Nixon already knows about Big Mike from his days as Governor of California and would be briefed about who's who in the families of the Midshipmen. He would know about what Mike did in LA, he would know his connection with Ritchie, he would know Little Mike was the star football player and Big Mike's son. If Nixon gets his extra term you could look at Little Mike possibly getting a shore duty assignment after his first sea duty assignment at some place like the Pentagon or White House as someone's aide, or going on staff as an assistant to the ASW staff officer. You might even see him getting to be an Admirals Aide if he does good on his sea duty tour if he does good.
Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
Part 155, Chapter 2825
Chapter Two Thousand Eight Hundred and twenty-Five
1st June 1980
Langeoog, East Frisian Islands
It was an unseasonably cold afternoon and it had started to rain. Meaning that Marie Alexandra had the perfect excuse to do nothing at all. So she was lying in bed listening to the rain hitting the roof. It rather suited the mood she was in.
The last several months had been awful for Marie. The public backlash against the lawsuit that Jack Kennedy had started right after New Year’s been fierce and most of the defendants had remembered that it had been Marie interviewing them as they had said all sorts of damning things that had been entered into the public record. Marie remembered how proud they had been of their actions, the greed, arrogance, and crass hypocrisy that had been on display. Now that they had been exposed nothing had changed, they were just saying that they had been tricked, or their words were getting taken out of context. They certainly changed their tune fast when Jack had released the transcripts and recordings in their entirety. Marie had spent her days going to lectures and hiding in her apartment. The problem was that her means of dodging the press coverage only worked when she had the means to disguise herself. Someone had figured out that she often swam laps in the pool at the Trinity Athletic Center. It was sort of hard to look like someone else when all you were wearing was a swimsuit and had reporters shouting questions at you while climbing out of the pool.
Then Cheshire died and Marie had learned that her grandfather had suffered a stroke. Sir Malcolm was in the hospital and was not considered likely to recover due to his age, Marie wasn’t in a position to just drop everything and go to Montreal. That was before she had even considered whether or not she would have the proper mindset to deal with Margot and not have it end with blood. So, for lack of anything better to do Marie had traveled to Langeoog and had been a bit surprised by the reaction she had gotten from the islanders. They had heard about much of what had happened and had proven to be protective of her, even running off the few journalists who had tracked her out to the East Frisian Islands.
That had surprised Marie at first. She had been born in Berlin, only spending a couple months a year on Langeoog at most. Then it had occurred to her that she had been doing that her whole life with playing on the beach among her earliest memories. There were still hundreds of seashells marking the boundaries of the front walk of the house that had been gathered by Marie, Tatiana, and Malcolm. How many times had the members of her family had joked that the islands were her actual home? That if she could, Marie would live out here year-round with a dozen cats? That silly part about having that many cats was the only part that was wrong. Her childhood memories had often revolved around the presence of Cheshire and Fleur, the terrier mix who had been the family dog. Marie would love nothing more than that. Thinking about her family was a reminder that Malcolm had left for India and wouldn’t be back for months and Tatiana was in Washington D.C. Marie remembered how much fun it had been with Tatiana when they had traveled across Northern Spain a few years ago. It sucked that she was kept too busy by the Foreign Office to do anything like that this year.
Richthofen Estate, Silesia
Henriette being appointed to be the Amanuensis of the Royal Household of Silesia certainly demonstrated that someone had been creative. It involved a mixture of things beyond merely being a typist though she was able to take dictation. While Ilse already had a Personal Secretary, which was expected of a Queen, Henriette had the authority to do business on Ilse’s behalf as needed.
It seemed that a key part of Henriette’s job was keeping people away from Ilse who would just waste her time but were too important to simply ignore because it was well known that Henriette was the future Markgräfin of Oppeln. The thing was that the number of people who Ilse felt wouldn’t waste her time was extremely small. Of the people who Ilse always had time for was Izabela Lis, one of the Maids was apparently Ilse’s confidante and was widely regarded as in the running to eventually become the Housekeeper of the Richthofen Estate. When Henriette had asked about that relationship, she had been told by Ilse that when you find someone who you can trust implicitly, you owed them a whole lot in return.
Henriette had also seen the sort of medical intervention that Ilse was subjected to. Ilse had said that she had suffered from maternal cardiac arrest when Nikolaus had been born and there had been further complications in the years since. She’d had no idea that Ilse’s health was that precarious. Then she remembered Ilse’s comments about trust. Ilse was watching Henriette, looking to see just how far she could trust her.
The funny part was that Marie Alexandra had warned her about this sort of thing. That the families old families like the Hohenzollerns or the Richthofens were cautious about their position within society and that she had best be prepared for having to deal with their machinations. Marie’s own family and Sabastian’s were of a different sort and they also happened to be the very people that the old families were so cautious of.
1st June 1980
Langeoog, East Frisian Islands
It was an unseasonably cold afternoon and it had started to rain. Meaning that Marie Alexandra had the perfect excuse to do nothing at all. So she was lying in bed listening to the rain hitting the roof. It rather suited the mood she was in.
The last several months had been awful for Marie. The public backlash against the lawsuit that Jack Kennedy had started right after New Year’s been fierce and most of the defendants had remembered that it had been Marie interviewing them as they had said all sorts of damning things that had been entered into the public record. Marie remembered how proud they had been of their actions, the greed, arrogance, and crass hypocrisy that had been on display. Now that they had been exposed nothing had changed, they were just saying that they had been tricked, or their words were getting taken out of context. They certainly changed their tune fast when Jack had released the transcripts and recordings in their entirety. Marie had spent her days going to lectures and hiding in her apartment. The problem was that her means of dodging the press coverage only worked when she had the means to disguise herself. Someone had figured out that she often swam laps in the pool at the Trinity Athletic Center. It was sort of hard to look like someone else when all you were wearing was a swimsuit and had reporters shouting questions at you while climbing out of the pool.
Then Cheshire died and Marie had learned that her grandfather had suffered a stroke. Sir Malcolm was in the hospital and was not considered likely to recover due to his age, Marie wasn’t in a position to just drop everything and go to Montreal. That was before she had even considered whether or not she would have the proper mindset to deal with Margot and not have it end with blood. So, for lack of anything better to do Marie had traveled to Langeoog and had been a bit surprised by the reaction she had gotten from the islanders. They had heard about much of what had happened and had proven to be protective of her, even running off the few journalists who had tracked her out to the East Frisian Islands.
That had surprised Marie at first. She had been born in Berlin, only spending a couple months a year on Langeoog at most. Then it had occurred to her that she had been doing that her whole life with playing on the beach among her earliest memories. There were still hundreds of seashells marking the boundaries of the front walk of the house that had been gathered by Marie, Tatiana, and Malcolm. How many times had the members of her family had joked that the islands were her actual home? That if she could, Marie would live out here year-round with a dozen cats? That silly part about having that many cats was the only part that was wrong. Her childhood memories had often revolved around the presence of Cheshire and Fleur, the terrier mix who had been the family dog. Marie would love nothing more than that. Thinking about her family was a reminder that Malcolm had left for India and wouldn’t be back for months and Tatiana was in Washington D.C. Marie remembered how much fun it had been with Tatiana when they had traveled across Northern Spain a few years ago. It sucked that she was kept too busy by the Foreign Office to do anything like that this year.
Richthofen Estate, Silesia
Henriette being appointed to be the Amanuensis of the Royal Household of Silesia certainly demonstrated that someone had been creative. It involved a mixture of things beyond merely being a typist though she was able to take dictation. While Ilse already had a Personal Secretary, which was expected of a Queen, Henriette had the authority to do business on Ilse’s behalf as needed.
It seemed that a key part of Henriette’s job was keeping people away from Ilse who would just waste her time but were too important to simply ignore because it was well known that Henriette was the future Markgräfin of Oppeln. The thing was that the number of people who Ilse felt wouldn’t waste her time was extremely small. Of the people who Ilse always had time for was Izabela Lis, one of the Maids was apparently Ilse’s confidante and was widely regarded as in the running to eventually become the Housekeeper of the Richthofen Estate. When Henriette had asked about that relationship, she had been told by Ilse that when you find someone who you can trust implicitly, you owed them a whole lot in return.
Henriette had also seen the sort of medical intervention that Ilse was subjected to. Ilse had said that she had suffered from maternal cardiac arrest when Nikolaus had been born and there had been further complications in the years since. She’d had no idea that Ilse’s health was that precarious. Then she remembered Ilse’s comments about trust. Ilse was watching Henriette, looking to see just how far she could trust her.
The funny part was that Marie Alexandra had warned her about this sort of thing. That the families old families like the Hohenzollerns or the Richthofens were cautious about their position within society and that she had best be prepared for having to deal with their machinations. Marie’s own family and Sabastian’s were of a different sort and they also happened to be the very people that the old families were so cautious of.
Last edited:
The idea that Margaret would outlive her husband, Sir Malcolm is somehow very blasphemous to me as I see Margaret having no problems with putting him in to a "good" long term care facility as she lives out her life without Sir Malcolm stopping her worst impulses, remember that Margaret is the one with family money and is not dependent on Sir Malcolm financially.
IOTL, Jack Kennedy was on the Harvard swim team and should know of some places around Dublin were Marie can swim in private without being bothered.
Henriette is finding out that she is in a very small circle of people that Ilse trusts, and Ilse is someone that you don't want to betray even accidentally.
IOTL, Jack Kennedy was on the Harvard swim team and should know of some places around Dublin were Marie can swim in private without being bothered.
Henriette is finding out that she is in a very small circle of people that Ilse trusts, and Ilse is someone that you don't want to betray even accidentally.
on the flip side, once Sir Malcolm passes away and his moderating influence on the broader family goes with him, Margot need only make a pain of herself to the ‘continental’ side of the family and Marie’s thesis about Margot’s ancestry (both poor French and white-passing Métis) would go public, with the consequences falling on Margot like a tonne of bricks.
Last edited:
Consequences? Six people will clutch at pearls and the rest of the city/province/country will shrug and say, "Okay, so what?"
Margot's vice-like grip as 'queen bee' of Montreal's social scene will be irrevocably shattered and she may well receive the same kind of ostracism and judgement she showed to others over the years (like the Lanes and their daughter Henrietta). I doubt she'll go quietly either. The fall of a tyrant rarely happens neatly and peacefully.
Part 155, Chapter 2826
Chapter Two Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty-Six
2nd June 1980
Richthofen Estate, Silesia
When Niko had received his Diplom in Military History, he understood that it was hardly the end of his education. He would be going back to school in September, the Field Command School in Lichterfelde as his Officer’s Commission would be active. That was following everything that was planned for the summer, Moscow next month and then he had his marriage to Monique to contend with. As was tradition, Piers Sjostedt, Monique’s grandfather had arranged to post the banns in Flensburg and Breslau with it seeming like every newspaper picking up the story as it had appeared in the weekly bulletin in the Lutheran Cathedrals of those respective cities.
Both Niko and Monique had complicated relationships with religion after what had happened to their respective mothers. The reaction had been different though. Niko had considered religion as a box to check if necessary, the whole bit about there being no Atheists in foxholes had been a bit too on the nose. Monique’s response had been to study Theology at University and in the process, completely rejecting the Catholic beliefs of the odd corner of France she had been born in. The result was that Monique had understood the implications while Niko had been a bit slower on the uptake. That had changed in a hurry when Monique had snuck out from the main house out to the guesthouse where Niko had lived since he had started attending the University of Breslau. What followed was the sort of thing that he was unlikely to forget with everyone, including his parents, very likely turning a blind eye because it was only a matter of weeks before they finished with the formal part. It was afterwards that they had a chance to talk. Of course, Monique had a question despite there being little about Niko that was out of the ordinary.
“Did the Heer do this to you?” Monique asked looking at the tattoo on Niko’s arm, stretching the skin of his arm out so she could see it better. He had the AB+ in letters that had once been black but had oxidized to blue, tattooed on the inside of his arm about twenty centimeters above his elbow.
“No, I was still going to Wahlstatt at the time, it is optional but strongly suggested” Niko replied, “It is considered a life saving measure because that is where the Medics know to look, but that wasn’t my consideration at the time though.”
“What was your consideration?” Monique asked.
“My entire class had been taken to Münsingen, mostly as free labor to clean up the place” Niko replied, “We were told that for administrative purposes we were considered Soldaten while we were there and one of the Feldwebels asked if anyone wanted to make it official like, prove we were men as it were and most of us stepped up.”
“Just how old were you?” Monique asked.
“Far too young” Niko said, “No one was asking how old I was though and I am quite certain that it was all incredibly illegal. I spent the next several months dreading that my mother might see it.”
“And that is your blood type?”
“Yes” Niko replied, “Me, along with a good portion of the Mischners. That makes us among the few universal recipients.”
Monique looked at him, a bit quizzically before asking. “You would have inherited that from your mother? Did Ingrid?”
Niko considered the unclothed state they were in and realized that there were no secrets between them anymore. It wasn’t just being physically naked here; it was being open where he might not have been inclined to be in the past.
“I don’t know” Niko replied, “My mother nearly died when I was born and the Doctors said that she should not attempt to have another, she still wanted another though and Ingrid needed a family. She is my little sister though; she always has been. Technically, she is my second cousin.”
Monique was clearly surprised by that answer. “She doesn’t know, does she?” She asked.
“My mother said that she will tell her when she is ready” Niko replied, “She is afraid that it will turn Ingrid’s world upside down.”
“Ingrid has no idea how lucky she is” Monique said, “Everyone in Fossoy knew my history and weren’t afraid to rub my face in it.”
Niko had heard Monique talk about that place before. He couldn’t imagine what that must have been like, having almost everyone in your community despise you because of a war had had ended long before you were even born. Niko remembered that Opa had always said that he ought to consider himself fortunate and to never forget that his success in life had more or less been guaranteed from the day he had been born. Most people, including his mother or Monique had that sort of guarantee by any stretch of the imagination. How did you succeed when every hand was against you? Niko had no idea.
“Well, this isn’t Fossoy” Niko said.
Apparently, that was not the right response.
Monique rolled away from Niko, wrapping the sheet from his bed around herself in the process. “No, this place is exactly the same as Fossoy, you’re just on the other end of it” She replied.
Niko had thought that he had understood. It seemed that he had been mistaken on that score and didn’t know correct thing to do in this situation. Even as he had that thought, he realized that Fossoy was a key part of the lens that Monique looked at the world through. It was always with her.
2nd June 1980
Richthofen Estate, Silesia
When Niko had received his Diplom in Military History, he understood that it was hardly the end of his education. He would be going back to school in September, the Field Command School in Lichterfelde as his Officer’s Commission would be active. That was following everything that was planned for the summer, Moscow next month and then he had his marriage to Monique to contend with. As was tradition, Piers Sjostedt, Monique’s grandfather had arranged to post the banns in Flensburg and Breslau with it seeming like every newspaper picking up the story as it had appeared in the weekly bulletin in the Lutheran Cathedrals of those respective cities.
Both Niko and Monique had complicated relationships with religion after what had happened to their respective mothers. The reaction had been different though. Niko had considered religion as a box to check if necessary, the whole bit about there being no Atheists in foxholes had been a bit too on the nose. Monique’s response had been to study Theology at University and in the process, completely rejecting the Catholic beliefs of the odd corner of France she had been born in. The result was that Monique had understood the implications while Niko had been a bit slower on the uptake. That had changed in a hurry when Monique had snuck out from the main house out to the guesthouse where Niko had lived since he had started attending the University of Breslau. What followed was the sort of thing that he was unlikely to forget with everyone, including his parents, very likely turning a blind eye because it was only a matter of weeks before they finished with the formal part. It was afterwards that they had a chance to talk. Of course, Monique had a question despite there being little about Niko that was out of the ordinary.
“Did the Heer do this to you?” Monique asked looking at the tattoo on Niko’s arm, stretching the skin of his arm out so she could see it better. He had the AB+ in letters that had once been black but had oxidized to blue, tattooed on the inside of his arm about twenty centimeters above his elbow.
“No, I was still going to Wahlstatt at the time, it is optional but strongly suggested” Niko replied, “It is considered a life saving measure because that is where the Medics know to look, but that wasn’t my consideration at the time though.”
“What was your consideration?” Monique asked.
“My entire class had been taken to Münsingen, mostly as free labor to clean up the place” Niko replied, “We were told that for administrative purposes we were considered Soldaten while we were there and one of the Feldwebels asked if anyone wanted to make it official like, prove we were men as it were and most of us stepped up.”
“Just how old were you?” Monique asked.
“Far too young” Niko said, “No one was asking how old I was though and I am quite certain that it was all incredibly illegal. I spent the next several months dreading that my mother might see it.”
“And that is your blood type?”
“Yes” Niko replied, “Me, along with a good portion of the Mischners. That makes us among the few universal recipients.”
Monique looked at him, a bit quizzically before asking. “You would have inherited that from your mother? Did Ingrid?”
Niko considered the unclothed state they were in and realized that there were no secrets between them anymore. It wasn’t just being physically naked here; it was being open where he might not have been inclined to be in the past.
“I don’t know” Niko replied, “My mother nearly died when I was born and the Doctors said that she should not attempt to have another, she still wanted another though and Ingrid needed a family. She is my little sister though; she always has been. Technically, she is my second cousin.”
Monique was clearly surprised by that answer. “She doesn’t know, does she?” She asked.
“My mother said that she will tell her when she is ready” Niko replied, “She is afraid that it will turn Ingrid’s world upside down.”
“Ingrid has no idea how lucky she is” Monique said, “Everyone in Fossoy knew my history and weren’t afraid to rub my face in it.”
Niko had heard Monique talk about that place before. He couldn’t imagine what that must have been like, having almost everyone in your community despise you because of a war had had ended long before you were even born. Niko remembered that Opa had always said that he ought to consider himself fortunate and to never forget that his success in life had more or less been guaranteed from the day he had been born. Most people, including his mother or Monique had that sort of guarantee by any stretch of the imagination. How did you succeed when every hand was against you? Niko had no idea.
“Well, this isn’t Fossoy” Niko said.
Apparently, that was not the right response.
Monique rolled away from Niko, wrapping the sheet from his bed around herself in the process. “No, this place is exactly the same as Fossoy, you’re just on the other end of it” She replied.
Niko had thought that he had understood. It seemed that he had been mistaken on that score and didn’t know correct thing to do in this situation. Even as he had that thought, he realized that Fossoy was a key part of the lens that Monique looked at the world through. It was always with her.
Last edited:
Part 155, Chapter 2827
New
Chapter Two Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty—Seven
3rd June 1980
Richthofen Estate, Silesia
The concern all along had been that when two young people just happened to be in proximity that life would happen to them. That was sort of inevitable, it took many different forms though. Ilse supposed it was a good thing that she had pulled Monique aside just before she had left for Argentina with Nikolaus to let the girl know that Ilse and Albrecht were not ready to be grandparents, that it was in her interest to learn how to avoid that eventuality. Ilse certainly remembered how badly she had messed things up before Nikolaus had been born and had not wanted history to repeat itself. Ilse also wasn’t so foolish as to assume that the two of them would remain chaste until they got married, so it had been a good thing that they had been attending different Universities for the last couple of years. Now, that time had passed and they had not exactly been discrete on Sunday night. Afterwards, Nikolaus had apparently said too much as he tended to do. He and Monique had been bickering ever since.
As much as Ilse wanted to defend her son, it was obvious that he had inherited a few of his grandfather’s worst traits. Ilse remembered Käte’s perspective about Manfred the Elder’s narrow world view. Unless he was in the cockpit of an airplane or looking through the sights of his rifle he often couldn’t see what was going on right in front of him. It seemed that what Nikolaus had said showed that lack of understanding and Monique was not happy about it.
Ilse wished that she could say that she was surprised about what had happened but she wasn’t. She had always liked Monique and had been pleased that she was the one who Nikolaus had fallen for. No one lived in a vacuum though and Monique had once told Ilse that Silesia reminded her of Picardy, the Region of France that she had lived in. It was clear from the way she had said that it was not exactly complementary. In Fossoy, Monique had been despised because she was considered to be an ethnic German because of who her grandfather was. She would eventually learn that her background was far different than that but that didn’t mean that she was ever planning on going back. In Silesia, Monique had seen that there was a similar dynamic at play with Poles and Germans often at odds while Nikolaus was too close to see it.
Seattle, Washington
“Did you see page five of Sunday’s Washington Post James?” Bill Stoughton asked, presumably from his home district in Massachusetts as soon as Hendrix got the phone to his ear.
“I am not in D.C. this week, so if you could give me a minute to find a copy” Hendrix replied as he motioned one of his aides over. Getting the latest edition of the Post was not an easy thing to do in Seattle, which was about as far from Washington D.C. as you could get in the United States without a ship or airplane involved. Stoughton had a hard time wrapping his mind around the vast distances involved once you got west of Chicago. That was hardly unique to the Speaker of the House, many of the people Hendrix had encountered who lived on the East Coast tended to have that perspective. He scratched out Sunday’s Washington Post now on a memo pad before handing it to the aide.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out” Stoughton said, “What’s the weather like there out west?”
“Rainy” Hendrix replied.
“Isn’t Seattle known for that?” Stoughton asked.
“We have sunny days” Hendrix replied. It rained almost as much in Boston as it did in Seattle, just for much of the year it snowed there. Not that he expected Stoughton to know or even acknowledge it if he did. Fortunately, that was when the aide returned with the copy of the Washington Post.
“Someone did the crossword already, Sir” The aide said, before Hendrix waved him off. He didn’t care about the crossword puzzle. Opening it to page five, he instantly saw the article that Stoughton had mentioned.
The first thing that Hendrix noticed was the largish photograph of President Nixon with two men who were half a head taller than he was at the Naval Academy Commissioning/Graduation Ceremony a few days earlier. That said something because the President was not a short man. Scanning the article, he saw that they were LAPD Detective 3 Michael Tarver Washington, Age 48 and newly commissioned USN Ensign Michael Tarver Washington Junior, age 22. There were additional photographs of the graduation and the President giving his speech.
“I got the article on page five of the Post here in front of me” Hendrix said into the phone.
“Are you seeing what I am?” Stoughton asked, “As if you needed more proof that he is planning on making another run at the Whitehouse. National Defense, Civil Rights, and being tough on crime, this story has it all. Plus, if you read the article, you’ll see that Junior turned down a chance to play pro-ball to join the Navy, so you have National Service thrown in. The public will eat this up.”
“Not everyone is thrilled about the prospect of Nixon being in for another four years” Hendrix replied. It was more like there was a large segment of the population that was outraged by the idea that Nixon was bucking tradition to the extent that they were talking Constitutional Amendment.
“Granted” Stoughton said, “But this is all about finding out where the parade is going and getting in front of it.”
3rd June 1980
Richthofen Estate, Silesia
The concern all along had been that when two young people just happened to be in proximity that life would happen to them. That was sort of inevitable, it took many different forms though. Ilse supposed it was a good thing that she had pulled Monique aside just before she had left for Argentina with Nikolaus to let the girl know that Ilse and Albrecht were not ready to be grandparents, that it was in her interest to learn how to avoid that eventuality. Ilse certainly remembered how badly she had messed things up before Nikolaus had been born and had not wanted history to repeat itself. Ilse also wasn’t so foolish as to assume that the two of them would remain chaste until they got married, so it had been a good thing that they had been attending different Universities for the last couple of years. Now, that time had passed and they had not exactly been discrete on Sunday night. Afterwards, Nikolaus had apparently said too much as he tended to do. He and Monique had been bickering ever since.
As much as Ilse wanted to defend her son, it was obvious that he had inherited a few of his grandfather’s worst traits. Ilse remembered Käte’s perspective about Manfred the Elder’s narrow world view. Unless he was in the cockpit of an airplane or looking through the sights of his rifle he often couldn’t see what was going on right in front of him. It seemed that what Nikolaus had said showed that lack of understanding and Monique was not happy about it.
Ilse wished that she could say that she was surprised about what had happened but she wasn’t. She had always liked Monique and had been pleased that she was the one who Nikolaus had fallen for. No one lived in a vacuum though and Monique had once told Ilse that Silesia reminded her of Picardy, the Region of France that she had lived in. It was clear from the way she had said that it was not exactly complementary. In Fossoy, Monique had been despised because she was considered to be an ethnic German because of who her grandfather was. She would eventually learn that her background was far different than that but that didn’t mean that she was ever planning on going back. In Silesia, Monique had seen that there was a similar dynamic at play with Poles and Germans often at odds while Nikolaus was too close to see it.
Seattle, Washington
“Did you see page five of Sunday’s Washington Post James?” Bill Stoughton asked, presumably from his home district in Massachusetts as soon as Hendrix got the phone to his ear.
“I am not in D.C. this week, so if you could give me a minute to find a copy” Hendrix replied as he motioned one of his aides over. Getting the latest edition of the Post was not an easy thing to do in Seattle, which was about as far from Washington D.C. as you could get in the United States without a ship or airplane involved. Stoughton had a hard time wrapping his mind around the vast distances involved once you got west of Chicago. That was hardly unique to the Speaker of the House, many of the people Hendrix had encountered who lived on the East Coast tended to have that perspective. He scratched out Sunday’s Washington Post now on a memo pad before handing it to the aide.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out” Stoughton said, “What’s the weather like there out west?”
“Rainy” Hendrix replied.
“Isn’t Seattle known for that?” Stoughton asked.
“We have sunny days” Hendrix replied. It rained almost as much in Boston as it did in Seattle, just for much of the year it snowed there. Not that he expected Stoughton to know or even acknowledge it if he did. Fortunately, that was when the aide returned with the copy of the Washington Post.
“Someone did the crossword already, Sir” The aide said, before Hendrix waved him off. He didn’t care about the crossword puzzle. Opening it to page five, he instantly saw the article that Stoughton had mentioned.
The first thing that Hendrix noticed was the largish photograph of President Nixon with two men who were half a head taller than he was at the Naval Academy Commissioning/Graduation Ceremony a few days earlier. That said something because the President was not a short man. Scanning the article, he saw that they were LAPD Detective 3 Michael Tarver Washington, Age 48 and newly commissioned USN Ensign Michael Tarver Washington Junior, age 22. There were additional photographs of the graduation and the President giving his speech.
“I got the article on page five of the Post here in front of me” Hendrix said into the phone.
“Are you seeing what I am?” Stoughton asked, “As if you needed more proof that he is planning on making another run at the Whitehouse. National Defense, Civil Rights, and being tough on crime, this story has it all. Plus, if you read the article, you’ll see that Junior turned down a chance to play pro-ball to join the Navy, so you have National Service thrown in. The public will eat this up.”
“Not everyone is thrilled about the prospect of Nixon being in for another four years” Hendrix replied. It was more like there was a large segment of the population that was outraged by the idea that Nixon was bucking tradition to the extent that they were talking Constitutional Amendment.
“Granted” Stoughton said, “But this is all about finding out where the parade is going and getting in front of it.”
Last edited:
With no clear frontrunner for the presidential nomination, that means the control of the convention is in the hand of the Democratic National Committee and that is in turn is controlled by President Nixon.
Speaker of the House is usually by tradition is the Chairman of the convention of whatever party he belongs to, and that means Speaker Stoughton should be wielding the gavel and controlling the convention agenda, and he is going to do what is in the best interest for himself, the party, and the nation in that order, and that could means Nixon being nominated from the floor in a "spontaneous" demonstrating that Stoughton allows to happen.
Rep. Hendrix, as a rising star in the Democratic Party could get the all in important Keynote Speech delivered in prime time and if he can give an electrifying speech, he gets a nice "Presidential buzz" about him for the future.
Speaker of the House is usually by tradition is the Chairman of the convention of whatever party he belongs to, and that means Speaker Stoughton should be wielding the gavel and controlling the convention agenda, and he is going to do what is in the best interest for himself, the party, and the nation in that order, and that could means Nixon being nominated from the floor in a "spontaneous" demonstrating that Stoughton allows to happen.
Rep. Hendrix, as a rising star in the Democratic Party could get the all in important Keynote Speech delivered in prime time and if he can give an electrifying speech, he gets a nice "Presidential buzz" about him for the future.
Tricky Dick is Tricky Dick....
Somehow I find it ironic that the rank and file - or the "popular will" endorse/nominate/support Nixon, and then the party has to fall in line behind them grudgingly.
Nixon winning again in 1980, means three Democratic terms from 1973-1985. So odd on a Republican on termer 1985-1989. Then Hendrix.
Then again, Hendrix doing Bill Clinton's 1993-2001 could be an interesting development.
He'd be 51 in 1993.
First African-American president as well...
I like the Stoughton and Hendrix chapters. @Peabody-Martini is Stoughton a stand in for Tip O’Neil?
That is a bit awkward, because Bill Stoughton occupies the seat held by JFK and Tip O'Neill in OTL.
I also enjoy the Stoughton-Hendrix chapters, I am very bemused by how Speaker Stoughton seems to genuinely like Hendrix and see him as a protege and has given him opportunities that otherwise that Hendrix wouldn’t get because his lack of seniority.
While James Hendrix is put off by Stoughton’s “Old Style “ politics, and doesn’t understand why Stoughton is invested in his career.
Hendrix has proven himself to be a team player and has done the things that Stoughton has wanted him to do, campaign for other candidates, raise money for the party, and probably gone to districts in the South and supporting white incumbents who were staunch segregationists but have discovered Civil Rights now that they need black voters to stay in office, much to Hendrix’s disgust, but is necessary in order to advance his goals and his career.
While James Hendrix is put off by Stoughton’s “Old Style “ politics, and doesn’t understand why Stoughton is invested in his career.
Hendrix has proven himself to be a team player and has done the things that Stoughton has wanted him to do, campaign for other candidates, raise money for the party, and probably gone to districts in the South and supporting white incumbents who were staunch segregationists but have discovered Civil Rights now that they need black voters to stay in office, much to Hendrix’s disgust, but is necessary in order to advance his goals and his career.
Part 155, Chapter 2828
New
Chapter Two Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty-Eight
20th June 1980
Oxhöft Naval Base, Gdingen, West Prussia
When Erich had returned from Italy, he had no idea where his small unit would be sent next. Taking what they had learned in Italy, adapting it for the cold waters of the Baltic Sea, and being the nucleus of a training program at Oxhöft was not what he had in mind. There he was though, spending nearly every day on the Bay of Puck or out further in the Gulf of Danzig. He had written at length about it to Gretchen, how he had explored some of the wrecks that were around. What Erich had not been able to mention was that the Naval High Command was very interest in the potential to conduct underwater sabotage and he was starting to wonder if Field Marshal von Schultz, Gretchen’s father, was trying to get him killed without getting his hands dirty.
Still, as Erich picked up this week’s stack of letters, there were a couple from Gretchen. Mostly she was lamenting how her dear friends, Mathilda and Edmée were not coming back to Tzschocha that autumn and were going to be starting University. She was faced with having a remaining academic year where she would be alone and wasn’t looking forward to it. At the same time, her sister was also going to be gone and that was going to be a profound a relief. Erich had never actually met Anna but after reading about the scene that she had caused at the Wahlstatt Institute’s Spring Formal, he was in no hurry to. Apparently Gretchen’s parents were able to smooth things out, but Erich had attended a different campus of the Prussian Institute so he understood that had probably not been an inexpensive fix. As it was the Tzschocha School had allowed Anna to finish her Upper Prima year, but then they wanted her gone for good the instant she completed her Abitur.
Gretchen was vague about what had happened, but she had said that seeing Anna finally having her comeuppance was an early birthday present. Erich remembered her mentioning having had a birthday a few weeks earlier. In the next letter he had apologized and promised to make it up to her. In her reply Gretchen had said that she understood what he was doing was important and that she would look forward to whatever he had in mind. So Erich figured that he had better think of something good but didn’t have the foggiest notion as to what.
The next letter was from his mother and it was the sort of thing that he had gotten used to. It seemed that his father had found out the hard way that any attempt to disown him would come with a substantial public backlash that he couldn’t afford and he had been forced to drop that, so it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t going to be there for the Regatta this year. Erich remembered the reception he had received at the Imperial Yacht Club last year, how the Komondor had praised Erich and humiliated his father. The last thing that he needed was for that to happen again. He remembered that he had received an invitation in the mail to attend the Gala that marked the end of Kiel Week at the Yacht Club, which he had totally forgotten about until that moment, and that was on the 29th, a week from Sunday. Perhaps it was because he was tired of his father’s nonsense, his mother’s more subtle condescension, or the whole Devil may care ethos of the Marine Infantry getting to him but Erich had a mad thought that could just be workable. Something that would kill two birds with one stone.
Pulling the portable typewriter off the shelf on the bookcase of his room in the Bachelor Officer’s Quarters that he had bought from a secondhand store in Danzig he opened the integral case, writing letters this way had just become habit at this point considering that Tilo von Schultz had not actually killed him yet rather than trying to keep them impersonal. Rolling a page of paper into the typewriter, Erich started to type a letter…
To Gretchen
Seeing that I managed to completely miss your birthday this year and had promised to make it up to you. I was wondering if you might be interested in accompanying me to the Annual Gala of the Imperial Yacht Club marking the end of the Kiel Week Regatta. This is a formal event and I understand that this is very short notice. I figure that we will probably be the youngest people in attendance, so despite this being a somewhat stodgy event you might enjoy being the Belle of the Ball for a few hours. I also do have to warn you that my parents being long-standing members of the Club and will probably be in attendance, so there will be some fireworks beyond the ones that they shoot over Kiel Fjord every year. So, if you are not interested or cannot reach me by telephone, you will not hurt my feelings by declining this invitation.
Sincerely,
Erich reread the letter, checking for the errors, and not seeing any he rolled the page out of the typewriter. He was certain that he would probably miss one or two and that Gretchen would inevitably point them out. After several minutes of looking through his desk, Erich found a pen that worked and signed his name on the bottom of the page. Filling out the envelope and putting a stamp on it, he figured that he had enough time to get it on the last mail pickup out of Oxhöft. Which meant Gretchen would be getting the letter on Monday or Tuesday.
20th June 1980
Oxhöft Naval Base, Gdingen, West Prussia
When Erich had returned from Italy, he had no idea where his small unit would be sent next. Taking what they had learned in Italy, adapting it for the cold waters of the Baltic Sea, and being the nucleus of a training program at Oxhöft was not what he had in mind. There he was though, spending nearly every day on the Bay of Puck or out further in the Gulf of Danzig. He had written at length about it to Gretchen, how he had explored some of the wrecks that were around. What Erich had not been able to mention was that the Naval High Command was very interest in the potential to conduct underwater sabotage and he was starting to wonder if Field Marshal von Schultz, Gretchen’s father, was trying to get him killed without getting his hands dirty.
Still, as Erich picked up this week’s stack of letters, there were a couple from Gretchen. Mostly she was lamenting how her dear friends, Mathilda and Edmée were not coming back to Tzschocha that autumn and were going to be starting University. She was faced with having a remaining academic year where she would be alone and wasn’t looking forward to it. At the same time, her sister was also going to be gone and that was going to be a profound a relief. Erich had never actually met Anna but after reading about the scene that she had caused at the Wahlstatt Institute’s Spring Formal, he was in no hurry to. Apparently Gretchen’s parents were able to smooth things out, but Erich had attended a different campus of the Prussian Institute so he understood that had probably not been an inexpensive fix. As it was the Tzschocha School had allowed Anna to finish her Upper Prima year, but then they wanted her gone for good the instant she completed her Abitur.
Gretchen was vague about what had happened, but she had said that seeing Anna finally having her comeuppance was an early birthday present. Erich remembered her mentioning having had a birthday a few weeks earlier. In the next letter he had apologized and promised to make it up to her. In her reply Gretchen had said that she understood what he was doing was important and that she would look forward to whatever he had in mind. So Erich figured that he had better think of something good but didn’t have the foggiest notion as to what.
The next letter was from his mother and it was the sort of thing that he had gotten used to. It seemed that his father had found out the hard way that any attempt to disown him would come with a substantial public backlash that he couldn’t afford and he had been forced to drop that, so it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t going to be there for the Regatta this year. Erich remembered the reception he had received at the Imperial Yacht Club last year, how the Komondor had praised Erich and humiliated his father. The last thing that he needed was for that to happen again. He remembered that he had received an invitation in the mail to attend the Gala that marked the end of Kiel Week at the Yacht Club, which he had totally forgotten about until that moment, and that was on the 29th, a week from Sunday. Perhaps it was because he was tired of his father’s nonsense, his mother’s more subtle condescension, or the whole Devil may care ethos of the Marine Infantry getting to him but Erich had a mad thought that could just be workable. Something that would kill two birds with one stone.
Pulling the portable typewriter off the shelf on the bookcase of his room in the Bachelor Officer’s Quarters that he had bought from a secondhand store in Danzig he opened the integral case, writing letters this way had just become habit at this point considering that Tilo von Schultz had not actually killed him yet rather than trying to keep them impersonal. Rolling a page of paper into the typewriter, Erich started to type a letter…
To Gretchen
Seeing that I managed to completely miss your birthday this year and had promised to make it up to you. I was wondering if you might be interested in accompanying me to the Annual Gala of the Imperial Yacht Club marking the end of the Kiel Week Regatta. This is a formal event and I understand that this is very short notice. I figure that we will probably be the youngest people in attendance, so despite this being a somewhat stodgy event you might enjoy being the Belle of the Ball for a few hours. I also do have to warn you that my parents being long-standing members of the Club and will probably be in attendance, so there will be some fireworks beyond the ones that they shoot over Kiel Fjord every year. So, if you are not interested or cannot reach me by telephone, you will not hurt my feelings by declining this invitation.
Sincerely,
Erich reread the letter, checking for the errors, and not seeing any he rolled the page out of the typewriter. He was certain that he would probably miss one or two and that Gretchen would inevitably point them out. After several minutes of looking through his desk, Erich found a pen that worked and signed his name on the bottom of the page. Filling out the envelope and putting a stamp on it, he figured that he had enough time to get it on the last mail pickup out of Oxhöft. Which meant Gretchen would be getting the letter on Monday or Tuesday.
Last edited:
Yeah, he's doomed alright. Poor bugger might as well have given her a kitten and/or puppy.
Edit:
The main reason Tilo has "guided" Erich into the Navy's Special Forces, aside from hoping that he dies conveniently in a training accident, is because Tilo is very much aware of his family's history and reputation re: the females of the clan. Tilo is very purposely keeping them as far apart as is possible until Gretchen has, at the very least, graduated from her school and is safely in university BEFORE she and Erich start making babies.
Last edited: