Excuse Me If I'm Typing A Little Slowly
You see, Conrad The Diligent And Conscientious took Edna for her morning stroll earlier on, and boy today's a stinker. Cold, dark, wet, windy and raining, BUT I PERSEVERED and am now looking at 2207 steps on the Fitbit. End result was also cold hands, so I am wearing the heated mittens that Wonder Wifey bought me, which make typing a little awkward. Art!
'Twas much worse than this
ANYWAY enough domestic guff, as promised in this Intro we will be looking at the Siege Of Tobruk and why it went on for nine months. Art!
This is most of North Africa that was contested in the Second Unpleasantness, with Tobruk situated about half-way along the coastline. For your information, this map is approximately six hundred miles across, because one thing North Africa was not short of was space. Art!
Without wanting to make this Intro the length of a Mills & Boon romance*, when the Axis sent the British (and Commonwealth) forces into headlong retreat in early 1941, a lot of them converged on Tobruk. This had originally been designed by the Italians as a fortress, and it had concrete bunkers, minefields, barbed wire and anti-tank ditches. Thus the headlong pursuit by the Axis (NOT just Rommel, thank you very much) came to a dead stop. An attempt to 'bounce' the defences by a hasty attack failed, as did larger and better-prepared attacks later in the year.
So, things settled down for a siege.
You can see airfields on the upper map; these were of little value and the Desert Air Force rapidly pulled out of the fortress, because they were heavily outnumbered. Thus there was no possibility of supplying the garrison by air. Art!
Here are two views of the reason why the Axis never properly constituted a siege of the fortress: it had a large harbour and was a major port. As long as Axis artillery could be kept out of range, the garrison could be supplied by sea, because the Teuton navy in the Mediterranean was non-existent, and the Regia Nautica (Italian navy) had been given several severe spankings by the Royal Navy and wanted nothing to do with pitched naval warfare.
The Teuton and Italian air forces thus tried to variously bomb the garrison into submission, destroy the port and sink any vessels trying to use it. The Royal Navy suffered serious losses in ships whilst running this aerial blockade, but the fortress was successfully supplied and sustained. Art!
Hale and not-so-hale hulls
The trick was for ships or convoys to arrive in harbour at dusk, for the Axis did not bomb much at night (accuracy issues), unload, take away rotating units or seriously wounded and be well clear of the area by dawn. In fact almost the entire Australian 9th Infantry Division was taken out of Tobruk in order to be shipped to Ockerland, thanks to a distinct threat from the Japanese. It was replaced by British and Polish (and some Czech) troops, which is a major feat for a fortress under siege.
I know one question is on you lips - what about water? For a garrison of tens of thousands, there would be an enormous demand for drinking water, which simply could not be met by any local wells. No, the RN did not bring in tankers of the stuff. There was a desalination plant in the harbour, turning seawater into potable stuff. Conrad cannot remember if this was installed by the Italians or the British and to find out would require much digging in books, which would take time. One for the back burner, I feel.
So, there's the outline of Fortress Tobruk, which lacked a roof, you might say, but which possessed a very handy back-door. Art!
Conrad: Conceptualised Differently
For those of you with any experience of BOOJUM! it will come as no great surprise that Your Humble Scribe - who has taken the heated mittens off and can now type much faster - can mis-interpret things in his own unique way. Art!
I read this as a cautionary epistle to Tony Hetherington about his son. Would you? Because, on reading the article, it transpires that Tony Hetherington is the one giving the advice about suing the son.
The whole story behind it smelled very very fishy indeed, with the plaintiff claiming that they'd been defrauded of £20,000 - or £24,000, it varied over time, apparently - after being stranded in Thailand for two years and NEVER ONCE CHECKING THEIR BANK ACCOUNT. Hence Ol' Tone's advice.
Anti-Monopoly
No, Conrad has not suddenly become an ardent social justice warrior, fighting the good fight against evil multi-nationals, because that would require getting up out of the Comfy Chair which I am loth to do (mainly because Edna will be right in there).
No, this is a consequence of playing Anti-Wordle, where you have to try and avoid getting the word right, which is a lot harder than you'd imagine. Art!
So, again with the skip-like mind, I pondered if there's a variant of 'Monopoly' where you win by losing or giving away all your money? 'Socially Sound Investor' might be the title. I know, I know, it's not very punchy but I'm on a schedule here. Art!
I had to ask. Hmmmm - 'Anti-Scrabble' anyone**?
The RSPCA Would Like A Word With You, Mister Smith
Let me spell that acronym out for you, gentle reader: the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Ha, take that, South Canadians! Not an organisation that Conrad could ever work for, given that his supposed fusion-powered pumping unit seems to have a soft spot for animals, and beating offenders with the nearest blunt instrument is probably against RSPCA policy. Art!
The thing is, a grown bear is not a beast to be taken lightly, as they possess the strength of any five men, have big sharp teeth and equally big sharp claws. If Mister Smith pushes that bear just a little too far one day - Art!
"I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it any more!"
He will, literally, be singing a different song.
"City In The Sky"
Ace and Terry have rather put their collective feet in it and are now on the wrong side of Arc One's Wardens. Ooops.
‘He can always pop back in the Tardis,’ half-lied Ace. Mentally she crossed her fingers.
Barclay frowned in puzzlement, looked at Christos, then back at
Ace. Not slow on the uptake, he
understood Abramovitch’s hinting to imply the girl had smuggled a radio transmitter
aboard Arc One.
He unslung a long wand-like instrument from his jacket, poked a button
and pointed it at Ace, who flinched, expecting a paralysing ray or a sonic
attack. Instead a high-pitched modulated
whine came from the wand, making Barclay nod in a fashion she imagined he felt
projected “steely resolve”.
‘Active EMF detector,’ carelessly explained Abramovitch. ‘Multi-purpose. Very useful.
Now - ’
‘Show us what you brought aboard!’ snapped Barclay. Ace decided he didn’t get enough chances to
show off how he was Warden Supreme and wanted to test his role.
Wordlessly, from beneath her jacket she produced a small metal cylinder,
studded with buttons, a dial and a telescoping aerial.
‘A radio. I see. So he can remain in touch. I think you need to render that device over
to us and allow us to contact him,’ commented Abramovitch, mildly.
‘He told me not to give it up!’ replied Ace, a touch of her trademark
asperity colouring her cheeks.
Finally -
Gotta post and dash. I have a laundry load to put on, especially my cardie, since Edna's roosting upon it has gifted it with Essence Of Sweaty Dog. Then I need to pop down to Lesser Sodom, and I shall cheat this week by going in the car.
* I think I have at least two books solely to do with the siege of Tobruk.
** "The game where dyslexia is a boon not a handicap!" Hmmmm the Advertising Standards Authority might look askance at that tagline.
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