To: Commandant Gaston Dulet, École d’Aérien

From: Capitaine Jean DeGual, Officer Commanding, Cruiser Olympus

Subject: Cadet Citations for Actions on and after 10 September 1908

My dear old friend,

I extend to you my heartfelt greetings and salutations. This letter is to apprise you of the performance of three of your cadets during their fall cadet cruise aboard my vessel. I believe you will find that these young men behaved in a manner that reflects only the best of the École d’Eérien and our branch of the service.

On 10 September we were moving parallel with a hurricane storm front from the south to north Atlantic. This hurricane was of moderate strength with winds of 175 kph. Under the best of circumstances, navigation and control of the ship was difficult in such a storm.

My duty-helmsman was on duty and I would have preferred his skilled hand at the wheel, but unfortunately it was not to be. The battering we took had incapacitated him at his post with violent airsickness. I had summoned an experienced officer, but in the meantime I turned to Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien Justin Vernin, who was already on the bridge as an auxiliary. It was a constant struggle to maintain course and to tack the erratic wind currents. The Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien performed admirably.

At 1055 hours we received a distress signal via wireless from the American ship USS Richmond. She was only a few minutes from our position. We had been tracking her progress in the storm for some time and were maintaining a discreet distance. Sky Captain Hart contacted us and informed us that a leak in his electroid tanks had flooded his boiler rooms and forced the shutdown and evacuation of these engineering compartments. The subsequent loss of power meant that his ship was losing altitude and would be lost to the storm. In keeping with the finest traditions of our service, I offered immediate assistance.

Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien Justin Vernin performed the maneuver to lay us alongside of the American ship. Even in calm conditions, as you know, this maneuver is difficult. Our replacement helmsman relief arrived on the bridge and assisted the Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien in making the last segment of the maneuver. The crosswinds we were experiencing made it dangerous to all parties involved. I informed him of how to approach the maneuver and he performed it flawlessly; perhaps better than the experienced officer he had relieved.

Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien Paul Patel was placed in charge of lashing the ships together. He commanded the firing of the steam grapples, and it took several attempts to get our lines across. In the process, the two ships collided and Patel was tossed overboard. He was injured in the fall but was recovered by his crew. He is in my sickbay at this time with a separated shoulder. While he expects a full recovery, such a fall in a hurricane is not something to be taken lightly.

We sent a boarding party aboard the Richmond. In that party was Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien Alexander Ducrocq. He was instrumental in leading a team that assisted with restoring power to the damaged American vessel: our French ingenuity combined with American improvisation in welding together a solution. During that time, the ship continued its descent and Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien Vernin, along with our replacement helmsman, managed to keep us close enough so that if the Richmond had to evacuate her crew, we could do so. The Mount Olympus was battered from the constant bumping of the American ship, but that is to be expected in such a risky maneuver.

Not only did Cadet Sous-Lieutenant aérien Ducrocq help restore power to the American vessel, but on suggestion of his superior officer, he prepared a detailed report on her engineering capabilities. This team’s findings, confirmed by my own chief engineer, indicate that the Americans may have some unknown capabilities aboard their vessels. It is rare that we get hands-on experience in foreign engine rooms, which adds greatly to our understanding of our allies and enemies alike. This report has been forwarded to the highest levels of our intelligence services for their review and immediate reaction.

This rescue of the American vessel has proven a political boon for us. The American and French newspapers have reported it extensively and we have received letters of thanks from the Americans. This is due, in no small part, to the actions of the cadets aboard the Mount Olympus during this cadet cruise. I am hereby officially noting them in this citation and ask that copies be provided for their personnel files. Should these brave young men find themselves in need of a posting after their graduation, I want them to know that I would look forward to having them back under my command on the Mount Olympus.

Their contribution, my old friend, is no doubt due to the level of training you and your instructors are providing them. Please keep up the sterling work you are performing in the name of the Republic.

Submitted for Record,

Capitaine Jean DeGual, Officer Commanding, Cruiser Olympus

Port of [redacted by ship’s censors]

23 October 1908

Ma Mère:

I want to you to know that I am well. The events of the last few weeks I am sure have reached you via the newspapers. I hope some of my earlier posts arrived, but if they have not, this letter will attempt to get you up to date. Suffice it to say this is not how I expected to complete my cadet cruise. Do not worry about me. I am well, a little shaken and battered, but doing fine.

The cadet cruise is supposed to be the pinnacle of schooling at the École d’Aviation. We all hope for postings to one of the larger battleships. Cadets with lower grades get assigned to destroyers or even tenders. Those with the highest grades and merit are given duty aboard a battleship. I was assigned to a light cruiser, the Mount Olympus, which gives you an indication of my grades this last year. Once more, advanced mathematics has proven elusive to me.

I was made an officer of the deck on our Atlantic cruise. Justin, my roommate, has been posted to the Mount Olympus as well, as her auxiliary bridge officer. We set off to patrol the warm waters of the southern Atlantic. Many ships have made the passage to South America of late. This is all part of our [redacted by ship’s censors]

On 7 September our meteorologists noticed the barometer dropping sharply and the winds picking up. Wireless traffic with merchant ships at sea told us there was a large tropical storm front extending on our patrol path. We swung northward and cut speed in hopes of eventually shifting west in the wake of the front. The storm picked up the next day to hurricane strength and we struggled to keep our distance. Riding out a storm at sea is one thing, in the air another altogether. I was bruised on my hips and thighs from slamming into the railing while at my post. It was the same for every man on my duty shift. Even going to the facilities was a nightmare. Men were sick constantly. As Justin said, we may be airmen of blue, but we were all green during a hurricane.

As you have no doubt heard, the Mount Olympus picked up a signal from an American Gany, the Richmond. She is one of their newest battle cruisers; she had been caught by the hurricane and was trying to break through toward us in the east. Her course, from what we could tell, was taking her right into the storm. The Richmond was having difficulties just as we were.

Storms play havoc on Ganys. The static discharge of lightning forces the crew to make a number of complicated compensatory efforts to keep us even-keel. The winds also make maneuvering difficult. Our Capitaine, Jean DeGual, maintained contact with the Richmond. Having another ship nearby can sometimes prove useful during such weather conditions, as it was in this case. The Richmond was struck several times by lightning and had been battered badly by the storm. She was having issues with maintaining altitude. On 10 September, on the morning duty shift, we got the word they were issuing a general distress signal.

Our Capitaine was a brave man to respond, the epitome of the Air Service. A lesser man would have left the Amis to their own fate. He did not. He ordered us deeper into the storm front to rendezvous with them before they went down. As deck officer, it was my job to tie us alongside the Richmond once we found her so our engineers could board and assist the Americans.

It took four hours to locate the American vessel. She was badly damaged by the storm. Two of her boilers were out and she was losing altitude slowly but steadily. In the 170 kph winds, it was a deadly maneuver for us to swing in to attempt to assist her, but Capitaine DeGual has ice in his veins. He took us in a low swinging arc, diving us down alongside the ship.

I took my crew out on the deck to effect our boarding. As you know, we wear safety harnesses on-deck and it was this that saved my life. It took three efforts to successfully fire our grapples across to the Amis’ ship. When we began to tie off, the winds buffeted us. The Richmond bumped us alongside, hard. I went right over the edge, head over heels. I am all right, Mother. I hit hard on the hull between the ships as they drifted apart. My shoulder was thrown out of its socket, which was painful, but not as painful as falling to the waters during the storm!

I hung there between the ships for what seemed like forever as my team pulled me up and worked the cranks on the ropes to pull the ships back together. I feared that the Richmond would once more bump us, as I would have been crushed. Fortunately, my crew got me up before the Richmond nudged us again. They propped me by the rail and I directed them to extend the gangway.

I was carried off to sickbay as our crew boarded the Richmond. As you have no doubt read in the papers, we succeeded in getting their boilers fired up, saving their ship and crew. While I am sore from the events that unfolded, the Capitaine has spoken of my bravery during the boarding action, earning me a citation. Such an honor will no doubt assist me in my first duty assignment.

The doctors say I am healing well, though I itch constantly under the plaster cast. I am sending you a copy of the citation I received in a separate letter. Please keep it for me and show it to Papa and Julianne. I have made our family name a revered one, at least aboard the Olympus. Even the American newspapers have spoken of the bravery and daring of our crew in helping them save their newest ship. I enclose copies of some of the articles about us, just in case you have not heard about the incident.

My love to you all.

Paul Patel

Cadet Sous-Lieutenant de aérien

To Be Continued…

École d’Avion, the Aviation School, Le Bourget, Paris

12 February 1902

Reversing the Curse of Trafalgar

by Sous Lieutenant de Volée Vincent Dreymon

There can be no doubt as to who was the victor of the Battle of Trafalgar in October of 1805. Clearly, the Royal Navy was victorious over our own combined fleet. What can be questioned are the long-term ramifications of Trafalgar, and what the development of the Ganymedes may represent for the French people.

The British have lorded their victory at Trafalgar over the French, rubbing our noses in it, for nearly a century. Nelson’s victory secured the position of the Royal Navy as the dominant force on the high seas in that age. The launch of the Ganymede, however, has changed the balance of power in a new and exciting way. For the first time, a technological innovation tips the scales of strategic power.

Historically, it was necessary to control the seas in order to protect the British Isles. With the advent of the air fleet, controlling the seas only allows the dominant nation to restrict commerce or large-scale shipping. While an invasion via air is not currently possible or practical, the time will come when that too is realistic. Until then, armies still must be moved via the traditional navy; but control of the skies makes control of the seas much more challenging.

While strategies have yet to be tested, it is conceivable that this innovation of technology has made obsolete the role of the wet navy. An air fleet, if concentrated and trained properly, can bombard a conventional naval force into submission or utter defeat. In doing so, the aviators control the skies and so control the seas.

What is lacking in our own country is the courage to believe that Trafalgar is behind us, and the willingness for our military leaders to fully embrace this new technology. In whatever conflict may be coming, it is necessary for us to use our air fleet to secure a stunning victory early in the conflict. This will help to dispel the myth of Trafalgar, it will demonstrate the value of this new technology to our military leaders, and at the same time convince the people of France that British superiority is a thing of the past.

The British believe that they possess air dominance and indeed, in some areas, they may (for the time being). That time is short. In the next conflict, our aviation fleet must stun the enemy; they must not only cripple the leviathans of our enemy, but also their traditional navy. This double punch, as it were, will shatter the confidence of the whole British people. Images of their leviathans crashing to earth and their naval vessels floundering will demoralize them. Panic and fear in the civilian government will force our enemies to early capitulation.

While some of our military planners can envision our aviation fleet in a support role, it is clear that, if deployed boldly, it should and will dominate both the ground battlefield and the high seas. When our leviathans dominate the air and sea, we will break our enemies morally and mentally. We will, once and for all, put Trafalgar into the history books not as a chapter-but a mere footnote.

The fact that the German crew survived has led those in some quarters to accuse the Germans of causing the crash, and the fact that the German Kaiserliche Marine had vessels nearby and assisted with the “rescue” has deepened suspicions. According the German captain, Doktor Ernst Schmidt, the electroid tanks onboard the Flugboot began behaving erratically as they neared the Pole, forcing him to issue the order to abandon ship.

This explanation has been met with skepticism by the officers of the Royal Sky Fleet assigned to investigate the incident. According to those officials, the Germans secured and recovered the Flugboot before any investigation could be made regarding the electroid tanks. In fact, one officer has gone so far as to state that the Germans caused the electroid activity with a “new secret weapon,” though he can offer no evidence to back his claim.

At any rate, the Race has proven a costly endeavor for all involved. We offer our heartfelt condolences to the families of the men lost, and will strive to make sure that the truth of this horrific incident becomes fully known.

Noted French Leviathan Variations

Submitted by: Lieutenant Commander Francis Marion Barker

8 May 1907

Recently increased activity within the Foreign Service has provided a wealth of new data regarding French leviathan designs and, more importantly, their variations. The French have always demonstrated significant creativity in adapting leviathan technology to new applications, and this recent trend reinforces that impression.

The following are noted changes or variants of French designs and our office’s analysis of these innovations.

Mistral
The French cruiser Mistral has a different appearance than the other ships of the Pothuau class. While all share the same keel and hull, several changes to the Mistral make her appear to be a faster variant. According to a dockyard worker in our employ, her armour belt is nearly two inches thinner. Her turrets appear to be smaller than those of her sister ships, perhaps an indication of lighter armouring there as well.

A review of her engine manifests shows that she is mounted with engines larger than those of the Pothuau. It is our belief that the French have equipped the Mistral in such a manner in an effort to increase her speed by upwards of fifteen to twenty percent. This is a departure from typical French leviathan designs and may be an indication that a new class of fast cruisers is under development-with the Mistral being a practical test applied to an existing ship.

Topaze
The Topaze is a destroyer, but is markedly different than other ships of her class. Her rear turret has been removed entirely. Our operatives working near the dockyards have confirmed that her lower hull has two large hatches installed in the aft under the area where the rear turret is normally mounted, each ten meters wide and eight meters high. There are also lower rolling mounts, indicating the possible installation of retractable gangways inside the hull.

Our experts believe that the Topaze has been re-equipped as a troop carrier and a destroyer. These large hatches could allow rapid debarkation of cavalry forces or infantry troops in significant numbers. It is conceivable that this could be used to insert ground artillery, as well. This is a disturbing modification; if our speculations are correct, the Topaze’s posting to the Mediterranean would allow her to fulfill a critical role in conjunction with any ground-based assault.

While the use of leviathans as troop transports is not unheard of, the use of a destroyer-class vessel specially modified for such an operation is new. It indicates that the French will have the capability to use such a vessel to disgorge a large force and support it with significant firepower during an operation.

Ardent
The battleship Ardent was launched four months ago and immediately caught the attention of our intelligence services, mostly due to the security measures enforced during her construction. The Foreign Service was unable to penetrate those measures veil around the dockyard facilities, and only during her launch did we get a good look at her. Even then, her forward turret was covered with a tarp which prevented us from fully accessing her armament.

The Ardent has since taken up patrol duties along the German border, further limiting how much we have been able to ascertain about her true nature. A few well-paid informants have told us that her guns are several centimeters in diameter larger than any other battleship in the French air service. This increase in size, even if just in her forward turret, is startling. While uninformed pundits may scoff at the importance of such a small increase, the true impact is that a tiny increase produces guns which potentially have the capability to far more easily penetrate standard armour belts.

We have intensified our operations in order to validate this report. Until verification can be obtained, the Ardent is one of our primary targets for closer surveillance.

Jester
The cruiser Jester has been seen in port with an unidentified device mounted on its superstructure. This appears to be series of vertical tubes, each two meters long, with the control mechanisms that are assumed to turn and apparently aim them.

Our initial analysis indicated this might be a new smoke-generation system, but such a system would not require the capability to aim the device. Another suggestion is that it is a tube-launching mechanism for a rocket of some sort, perhaps part of an advanced signaling system or potentially an offensive weapon. Since the science of rocketry has yet to produce a weapon of a power level significant enough to damage a lev, details of this array on the Jester are highly interesting.

I trust that this report is sufficient in its clarity and substance. Should you have additional questions, please feel free to reach out to me.

Your humble and obedient servant,

Francis Marion Barker

Since leaving Longyearbyen on Svalbard, the status of the Race has been nothing but speculation. Whilst the British entrant was undoubtedly the favorite after the withdrawal of the French Clarion, it is popularly believed that the American competitor’s extensive experience in polar climes may give his team the edge. The final competitor, the German Flugboot, is also largely an unknown quantity, though several “race watchers” have noted that the German has maintained its position regardless of the speed its competitors adopt, and that its true potential has yet to be seen.

In any case, the coffers of Lord Northcliffe have increased dramatically, with whole nations being caught up in the excitement of the Race. One financial expert has stated that sales of the Daily Mail have increased thrice fold, easily recouping the £50,000 that Lord Northcliffe put up as the overall prize. Realistically, given the near-total control the military exerts over leviathans, the sum of £50,000 pales into insignificance when compared to the prestige the winning service will gain over its rivals. But for Lord Northcliffe, the increased sales will go far in compensating for the shipping trade he has lost at the hands of the Australian rebels as they continue their harassment of shipping in the East Indies.

But now we wait with bated breath to find out which of the competitors will reign supreme. And Lord Northcliffe waits to see the final tally on his sales ledger.

From: HML Rapier
Mailed from Portsmouth

To: Master Jeremy Farmer
201 Benton Lane
Buckinghamshire

Dear Jeremy,

I received your letter of 10 February and greatly appreciate you thinking of your uncle. Despite what you may have read in the papers regarding the recent action, we won that engagement. Please assure your mother that I am recovering well, as I know she worries about her younger brother.

I do not know how much of the action made the newspapers because I have been absorbed by matters aboard ship, though I do know the accounts published are often written with more fiction than fact. While I cannot able to provide you with information considered sensitive, you always ask what it is like in battle; I can tell you what this fight was like, though my perspective was limited.

As you know, the HML Rapier is a destroyer, and we were in a small squadron of ships of the same class when the French approached. I am a gunnery control officer for the A and B turrets and was posted to forward fire control when we spotted their smoke trails in the sky. Our range markers identified them as a squadron out of Brest—at least it wasn’t that accursed Cigogne squadron. Their stacks were painted with red CENSORED which is how we could tell where they were from.

We were out over the North Sea and the French were no fools, they came in high and used the clouds to mask their approach so we did not spot them until they were already within range. The Reindeer , our squadron flagship, fired a warning shot. It really was just a warning shot, but the treacherous French used it as a pretense that we had fired on them. They opened up on both us and the Reindeer.

Ranging shots in the air is hard. Our shells have smoke tracers that give us a trail we use to gauge where the shots land. Our first volley was short and low. The captain poured on the speed and we started to climb along with the rest of the squadron. I heard a hit on the Reindeer , clearly audible despite the range. That sound of that shot punching into the metal and the sound of the explosion was something no aviation officer ever wants to hear. I am not proud of saying I am glad it was the Reindeer and not us. I hear that the shell I could hear hit the ship killed CENSORED.

The men under me calculated the speed of the French ships, our speed and the rate of climb, and fed me a new set of numbers for the gunners. We have a computation device, nasty brass set of wheels set in gears that allows you to feed in the coordinates and come back with an approximate setting. Still, I consider there’s nothing better in my business than a keen set of eyes and a crisp mind to make some last-minute adjustments.

We adjusted range, and I keyed in the message down to the two turrets I was responsible for to adjust their elevation. Timing is important, Jeremy. The turrets were loaded, but those coordinates were only good for a few heartbeats. You could hear the turbines grind those turrets around and I saw the guns go up. Thank God I had stuffed cotton in my ears before they went off. The entire ship rocked back under the recoil. You’ll find it interesting to know that we correct the balance of the ship through the use of CENSORED.

One turret had their range and hit a Frenchie amidships. Through my binoculars I could see that their mid-stack had been hit and was laying smoke down on their aft, obscuring the vision of their own turret crews. I am willing to bet it was the boys in Turret B—they always seem to have the skill and the luck.

Our computations were dead-on and we kept tracking when the French bracketed us with a volley. I have never been aboard a ship that was hi, but we definitely felt it. I never heard it coming, that was the odd thing. The shot passed just below us, a bloody damn plunging shot into the bowels of the ship. The floor went one way and I went another. I was knocked off my feet with a gunner’s mate laying on top of me when I finally heard a rumble; like thunder, only under me. For a minute everything went dark, then my nostrils stung with smoke.

You can tell the family that I should have been scared but I wasn’t—I was mad! How those Frenchies got our range so fast, I don’t know. When I finally got to my feet I saw that the room behind me was on fire. The deck was ripped open, and I never heard it happen. I gave the order for us to transfer to Gunnery control aft and coordinate fire from there. I remember yelling the orders but I couldn’t even hear my own voice. I found out afterwards that the shell had burst my left eardrum. I guess I was lucky I didn’t hear it.

The next thing I knew the damage control party was all around me. They pulled that gunner’s mate off me and he was badly hurt, his arms and face were burned. Cordite smoke filled the room, and the ship seemed to sway, though it may have been me being off balance. My right ear hummed loudly and my left was bleeding.

My duty was to get to the aft fire control. You know, they train us and drill us like crazy so that we can do our duty in our sleep if necessary, and all that training pays off at times like this. We went out on the deck to move aft and I got my first glimpse of the hole. That French shell had torn a hole three meters across right down into the guts of our ship. Smoke came out, smoke and fire.

As we moved along the rail I found two leather straps blocking us on the walkway. The deck crew wears leather harnesses and straps to keep from being blown off the ship, and those blokes had tied off on the far rail, so their straps blocked us when they had been blown off the rail. Good thing they had those straps or they would have fallen into the icy waters below. We pulled them up. One was dead, limp in his harness. His head was CENSORED. The other chap was knocked about in the head and wasn’t quite right. He asked if he could have some ice cream. Can you believe that? I saw him the other day and he still wasn’t quite right in the head.

I didn’t have time to deal with him. Another volley went off from the aft turrets and nearly knocked us on our arses. We got into the aft gunnery control just in time, because another shell clipped us. If we had been on the deck when that happened—well, thank God I was not there.

The French broke off. I think we gave them as good as we got, but maybe we got them better. The captain was going to order us to pursue but the Reindeer was losing altitude as her electroid tanks had been torn apart on the port side. I could see the arcing of the electrical discharge from the tank as the ship sank toward the sea. A ship that loses its electroid tanks may lose her entire crew, especially out in the middle of the North Sea. We air-service boys don’t leave fellow blokes behind, that’s part of our spirit. We moved alongside and tied off the Reindeer long enough for our damage control parties to shore up their leaks and keep her airborne.

Tell the family that I am well. My hearing is starting to come back and I am already back on duty. The Rapier has already been repaired and we are going out on patrol again in another CENSORED. Please write me since I hear so little about what is going on at home. I promise I will pay back the French for their little foray into the North Sea.

Keep up your studies and do what your mother says. When this tour of duty is over I promise to come back and bring to you some souvenirs of our battle, fragments of the Frenchy’s shell that hit us.

Respectfully,

Justin Farmer

Even though it arrived in Vadsø second, tomorrow the Royal Sky Fleet Indefatigable will leave the Norwegian town first, striking a serious blow against the French hubris that has dominated commentary of the Race for the past few days. In fact, should you see a Frenchman, show him exactly what you think of the Clarion by giving him a bugle call he’ll not soon forget!

The withdrawal of the two vessels means that the Indefatigable’s only remaining competitors are the damnably persistent German Flugboot, and the famed American explorer. One of the boys at Whale Island gave us an inside look at the Indefatigable, and I have to say, I think Old Blighty has this one in the bag.

The three remaining entrants will leave tomorrow for the Norwegian settlement at Svalbard, a segment that is expected to take considerably longer to travel than any previous leg. Svalbard will be the last stop before the competitors make the final dash for the Pole, with the hope of gaining the glory that goes with achieving that goal!

Will it be the German? The American explorer? Or will the Royal Sky Fleet once again prove why Britannia once ruled the waves and now rules the skies?

Le Bourget field

Paris

10 January 1909

Transcript of Guest Lecturer Senior Vice-Admiral de Volée Jean Paul Martel

Good day to you all. Please be seated.

It is a distinct pleasure to be here at the École d’Avion. My goal today is to provide you with my perspective on where we might use our Gany forces in conflicts around the world. Since our illustrious government invented the Ganymede and ushered in this new era of technology upon the world, we have sought to leverage this technology to position France where she belongs—as the most enlightened of the industrialized countries.

But our world is not always a safe place. Our old enemies seek to control this same technology to advance their own, darker causes around the globe. Today more than ever, an understanding of the larger world will help you as officers when you face the Germans, the British or any other foe across the bows of your ships. Knowing your enemy and grasping the nuances of how conflict begins are critical to comprehending the nature of the next war.

Professor Merede has asked me to summarize for you the current global situation and the potential hot spots where wars might begin. This is no small task, and I caution you that the information I provide to you today must needs be superficial—an educated guess, at best, though one based on historical analysis and current political maneuverings. Plainly, said, our fleet patrols the globe, and war could break out anywhere at any time. My comments today can cover only those areas in which I see the greatest potential for conflict.

The English Channel remains a brewing cauldron. Attempts by the British Prime Minister to declare the air above the channel the property of England has accomplished nothing except to escalate the tensions there. The daring men and boys of the Cigognes Squadron stand on the front line of this English aggression.

Likewise the German border represents an area to be watched. Our Prussian neighbors have demonstrated their willingness to challenge our borders there in the past; based on that history, our planners already are prepared to use a Gany fleet to assist in supporting a ground-based offensive.

Despite these potential aggressions, I do not see Europe as where the flames of our next war will ignite. I believe our mettle will be tested in the south, in Africa. The Suez, for example, is a strategic thorn in our side. Though we rule the skies, most goods are moved by water and the canal is an asset that we cannot allow to remain under control of the British crown.

As taught by the Fashoda Incident, our strategists believe that early control of the heart of Africa will be crucial in the next conflict. Unfortunately, no one understands this better than our British neighbors, and they seek to upset the stalemate that currently exists in Africa. Mark my words, whoever controls central Africa will control all of Africa.

The air over the Mediterranean is going to be dark with the storm of war when the fighting starts. There are many wet-navy assets there that will rely on Ganys to protect them when war begins. The Italians have their eyes on northern Africa, and the Austro-Hungarian forces have their eyes on us and the Italians. The École d’Avion will bear the brunt of the fighting, be assured of that. Success in Africa will rely heavily on our determination and prowess in the Mediterranean.

The German toehold in the Far East is disturbing. Any war in the Pacific will be a war for control of the vital coaling stations, for control of the coal will support a fleet, and lack of control will constrict it. The port in China, Tsingtao, will be critical for German operations, and as such is also important to us.

This leads me to discuss Japan and Russia. Both have their eyes on the Pacific, but that pond is a large and deep one. The Japanese have never forgiven the sting of their losses to the Russian Ganys and will seek a decisive strike against their old foes. The Japanese are meticulous planners and show remarkable ingenuity; given the ability of Gany forces to penetrate across traditionally impassable borders, Russia needs to pay close attention to this old enemy.

Likewise, the British rely heavily on relations with Australia for their fleet operations out of India. The change of political climate there forces the British to depend more on the use of neutral ports such as those in South America at Valparaiso—but I say that neutrality is a warm blanket to delude the masses on cold nights.

Indochina’s facilities are strategically important to us in the Pacific, because our control of those ports puts the British Ganys operating out of India at risk. Indochina holds them in check, gives them pause to wonder. They certainly will seek to neutralize that threat if war breaks out. Should they be foolish enough to try, they will find we have a few surprises in store for them.

I encourage you all to spend time studying fleet ranges, Gany fuel consumption, and all other aspects of fleet operations and supply lines. This knowledge, combined with an accurate map of the world, will quickly tell you what facilities may suddenly become strategically important in the time of war.

The Americans—well, they remain something of a joker in the deck. They have a powerful air fleet, but who will they side with? Us? The British? Perhaps the Japanese? For now, they seem content to play with their Ganys and conduct scientific experiments in search of new weapons. But the Americans may very well tip the scales in an upcoming conflict, so we must watch them carefully. While they brandish their neutrality like a shiny shield, they also have proven to be opportunistic, an often deadly combination.

Thank you for your time and attention. I will now open the floor to your questions.

The hated British were overtaken by the Germans after one of the Indefatigable’s electroid tanks ruptured as the Race moved past the German border, severely hampering the English leviathan’s speed. By contrast, the German Flugboot has maintained a constant velocity for nearly the entire race and at the moment looks to be the Clarion’s main rival, even as the fleet moves into the arctic skies.

Perhaps the most surprising story of the Race so far is the lack of progress by the Americans. Possibly relying too much on its captain’s previous experience to gain an advantage, the American vessel has not yet produced a show of speed to threaten the frontrunners. However, Admiral Peary’s experience should not be discounted, and the Camp Teller may surge ahead as the fleet moves northward.

Not surprisingly, the Russian entry has failed to impress, barely matching speed with the American competitor. As it limped into Berlin, the assembled crowd was audibly disparaging the battered vessel’s appearance. As the Race moves toward St Petersburg, however, the Krimskaya Borzaya is sure to pick up speed as its captain takes it through familiar skies.

Of significant interest is the large deployment of Kaiserliche Luftmarine leviathans north of Berlin, emphatically enforcing the exclusion zone that the German kaiser insisted upon prior to allowing the Race to fly over his country. As a show of force it is impressive—even if the competitors have no military ability whatsoever.

Tomorrow the Race gets underway again, this time heading for St. Petersburg. For the moment, the tricolor flows gaily from the mast of the Clarion, and the French nation follows with glad hearts!