Holy shit, this is one of the coolest things I've read in a while. Can't wait to see how negotiations turn out, even if I expect it all to fall apart.
The Boys In Blue: a New Zealand dictatorship TL
- Thread starter Maeglin
- Start date
I'd like to add my praise to this very promising TL; I'm really looking forward to seeing how things turn out. Well, I'm not, if you see what I mean, but I am pleasantly intrigued as to how and where you take this.
At the time, you would definitely take the South: the massive coal and timber reserves on the West Coast (hence mining, hence unions, hence the heartland of New Zealand socialism, both in OTL and TTL), plus electricity generation, plus the rich farmland of the Canterbury plains, plus the still-lingering effect on Dunedin of the nineteenth century gold-rush (many large New Zealand commercial operations kept their head-offices in Dunedin well into the 1950s).
Auckland was a main centre at the time, but it was not the monstrosity it is today.
Freyberg showed Algie to his private cabin. It was nothing fancy, of course, just an austere bed, a desk laden with papers, and a couple of plain wooden chairs. A small porthole window looked out over Cook Strait.
"So, Mr Algie," said Freyberg. "Please, take a seat. What is it you wish to see me about?"
Algie's eyes gleamed behind his glasses. "Several things, Lieutenant General. Care for a cigarette?"
"Which brand?"
"Holyoake's."
Freyberg frowned. "Never heard of them. Kiwi brand, are they?"
"Very Kiwi. Here, take the packet."
"Most kind, Mr Algie."
"Let me start with a question, Lieutenant General. How much do you know about Lee and his Reds?"
Freyberg shrugged. "Never met the man before. Heard a fair amount about him though, both good and bad, since the Civil Service types back in Britain will always talk. Churchill never had a bad word to say about him, up until he decided to launch this odd little revolution."
"And the Reds themselves?"
"Decent honest New Zealanders: hard-working, brave, and ingenious. I know the type well: I spent much of my early life here. Could have done with a few of them in Crete and North Africa, to tell you the truth."
"You are aware that Mr Lee's so-called Government has legalised the New Zealand Communist Party?"
"What of it? I hope you aren't wasting your time, Mr Algie, because I really can't see what you're getting at. So some people wish to be Communists - well, I say let them be Communists. We're not Germans, after all. We don't ban people from having odd political beliefs, because dare I say it, people ought to be free to be wrong."
"Under any other circumstances I would agree. Indeed before 1937, I was involved with our local Freedom Association. But New Zealand, you see, is in a special situation. We are in a State of Emergency, nay, dealing with a full-scale insurrection, and certain sacrifices must be made to keep the country safe. I have here in my pocket something that might interest you."
Algie handed Freyberg a piece of smoothly folded paper.
"Hmmm," said Freyberg. "Appears to be a letter. Who is this Cecil Holmes?"
"Excellent question, Lieutenant General. Cecil Holmes is a Communist. More specifically, he is a Communist who infiltrated the New Zealand National Film Unit several years ago, just before his Party was banned. He is currently among our most wanted men. But what is more interesting is who he associates with. That letter is to Jack Lewin. Does the name ring a bell?"
"Jack Lewin. Jack Lewin... that's right, the fellow who shot Mr Walsh back in July."
"And who nearly shot my colleague, Mr Holland," said Algie. "Correct. And now here is another, more recent letter."
He handed over another slip of paper.
Freyberg's eyes widened as he read it. "It's to this Jock Barnes chap!"
"It is indeed. Our operatives seized a satchel from the Red Office in Auckland during our recent advance. It contained some most interesting information about Cecil Holmes' activities within the Reds, and believe me, those letters are only the tip of the iceberg."
A 1950s newspaper advertisement seeks to cash in on the legendary "snatched satchel that won a war."
Freyberg handed back the letters. "It certainly is interesting, Mr Algie, but I still don't quite grasp what you're getting at. I accept that this Cecil Holmes was in communication with Lewin the murderer, and I accept that he was in communication with Barnes. That doesn't mean Barnes was working with Lewin, or that Barnes is also a secret Communist. Indeed, I wouldn't think Barnes would be a good little follower of Stalin. He strikes me as far too independent."
Algie laughed. "Ever the sceptic, eh, Lieutenant General? But let me put my cards on the table. I am a Tory, in the old tradition, as they say. You are a Liberal. We have our differences, but at heart we are constitutionalists. We respect order and the rule of law. Mr Lee and his Communist allies do not. I would therefore ask for your assistance. There might be a Governor General appointment further along the line, when Sir Cyril retires."
"Let me tell you now, Mr Algie, that any attempt to bribe me would be most improper. I am a British army officer, and cannot be bought."
"I do not attempt to bribe you," said Algie. "I only urge you to do the right thing."
Algie went over to the porthole window and stared out at the sea. "Look out there, Lieutenant General."
Freyberg looked to where the man pointed. "Hmmm. A four masted barque. Don't see one of those every day."
The Pamir was used to keep Blue New Zealand supplied with fuel.
"Yes, the Semple Government seized it from the Finns. In August 1941, I believe. Labour were thoughtful enough to leave it in Wellington before running off to the South Island. We currently use the Pamir to ferry coal, and whatever oil we can get our hands on, which, alas, is not much. Unlike the South Island, the North is not built on critical natural resources. This is where we need your help."
"My help?"
"Yes, we do not expect an honourable British officer to take sides in a tawdry little conflict such as this. However, in light of what I have told you, we would be incredibly grateful if you could communicate our needs to all appropriate international interests, in order to ensure that Wellington does not starve. We will also be approaching the American Envoy, Mr Patton, with a similar request. Believe me, Lieutenant General, New Zealand calls out to the Empire like never before."
Freyberg lit a cigarette, and puffed on it thoughtfully. "I shall think on this, Mr Algie. You may go."
"So, Mr Algie," said Freyberg. "Please, take a seat. What is it you wish to see me about?"
Algie's eyes gleamed behind his glasses. "Several things, Lieutenant General. Care for a cigarette?"
"Which brand?"
"Holyoake's."
Freyberg frowned. "Never heard of them. Kiwi brand, are they?"
"Very Kiwi. Here, take the packet."
"Most kind, Mr Algie."
"Let me start with a question, Lieutenant General. How much do you know about Lee and his Reds?"
Freyberg shrugged. "Never met the man before. Heard a fair amount about him though, both good and bad, since the Civil Service types back in Britain will always talk. Churchill never had a bad word to say about him, up until he decided to launch this odd little revolution."
"And the Reds themselves?"
"Decent honest New Zealanders: hard-working, brave, and ingenious. I know the type well: I spent much of my early life here. Could have done with a few of them in Crete and North Africa, to tell you the truth."
"You are aware that Mr Lee's so-called Government has legalised the New Zealand Communist Party?"
"What of it? I hope you aren't wasting your time, Mr Algie, because I really can't see what you're getting at. So some people wish to be Communists - well, I say let them be Communists. We're not Germans, after all. We don't ban people from having odd political beliefs, because dare I say it, people ought to be free to be wrong."
"Under any other circumstances I would agree. Indeed before 1937, I was involved with our local Freedom Association. But New Zealand, you see, is in a special situation. We are in a State of Emergency, nay, dealing with a full-scale insurrection, and certain sacrifices must be made to keep the country safe. I have here in my pocket something that might interest you."
Algie handed Freyberg a piece of smoothly folded paper.
"Hmmm," said Freyberg. "Appears to be a letter. Who is this Cecil Holmes?"
"Excellent question, Lieutenant General. Cecil Holmes is a Communist. More specifically, he is a Communist who infiltrated the New Zealand National Film Unit several years ago, just before his Party was banned. He is currently among our most wanted men. But what is more interesting is who he associates with. That letter is to Jack Lewin. Does the name ring a bell?"
"Jack Lewin. Jack Lewin... that's right, the fellow who shot Mr Walsh back in July."
"And who nearly shot my colleague, Mr Holland," said Algie. "Correct. And now here is another, more recent letter."
He handed over another slip of paper.
Freyberg's eyes widened as he read it. "It's to this Jock Barnes chap!"
"It is indeed. Our operatives seized a satchel from the Red Office in Auckland during our recent advance. It contained some most interesting information about Cecil Holmes' activities within the Reds, and believe me, those letters are only the tip of the iceberg."
A 1950s newspaper advertisement seeks to cash in on the legendary "snatched satchel that won a war."
Freyberg handed back the letters. "It certainly is interesting, Mr Algie, but I still don't quite grasp what you're getting at. I accept that this Cecil Holmes was in communication with Lewin the murderer, and I accept that he was in communication with Barnes. That doesn't mean Barnes was working with Lewin, or that Barnes is also a secret Communist. Indeed, I wouldn't think Barnes would be a good little follower of Stalin. He strikes me as far too independent."
Algie laughed. "Ever the sceptic, eh, Lieutenant General? But let me put my cards on the table. I am a Tory, in the old tradition, as they say. You are a Liberal. We have our differences, but at heart we are constitutionalists. We respect order and the rule of law. Mr Lee and his Communist allies do not. I would therefore ask for your assistance. There might be a Governor General appointment further along the line, when Sir Cyril retires."
"Let me tell you now, Mr Algie, that any attempt to bribe me would be most improper. I am a British army officer, and cannot be bought."
"I do not attempt to bribe you," said Algie. "I only urge you to do the right thing."
Algie went over to the porthole window and stared out at the sea. "Look out there, Lieutenant General."
Freyberg looked to where the man pointed. "Hmmm. A four masted barque. Don't see one of those every day."
The Pamir was used to keep Blue New Zealand supplied with fuel.
"Yes, the Semple Government seized it from the Finns. In August 1941, I believe. Labour were thoughtful enough to leave it in Wellington before running off to the South Island. We currently use the Pamir to ferry coal, and whatever oil we can get our hands on, which, alas, is not much. Unlike the South Island, the North is not built on critical natural resources. This is where we need your help."
"My help?"
"Yes, we do not expect an honourable British officer to take sides in a tawdry little conflict such as this. However, in light of what I have told you, we would be incredibly grateful if you could communicate our needs to all appropriate international interests, in order to ensure that Wellington does not starve. We will also be approaching the American Envoy, Mr Patton, with a similar request. Believe me, Lieutenant General, New Zealand calls out to the Empire like never before."
Freyberg lit a cigarette, and puffed on it thoughtfully. "I shall think on this, Mr Algie. You may go."
While I admit I'm still not entirely sold on the idea of an NZ dictatorship lasting until the 1980s/90s without forcible Australian intervention, this is an absolute gem of a timeline.
The idea of Robert Muldoon becoming one of NZ Labor's folk heroes is delicious.
The idea of Robert Muldoon becoming one of NZ Labor's folk heroes is delicious.
Agreed. I don't buy it either, but I think Maeglin has made as good a fist of it as possible and it is also a very entertaining read.
It isn't that the premise is outlandish, more the timing. I would think that a couple of years later would make all the difference to the Blue's success.
That being said, once we get past the current phase of the story, I shall be very interested in seeing how he sustains the situation long term.
Thanks. I have plans for Rob's Mob.
As for Australia: Menzies takes care of that one in the 1950s and 1960s, and by the time we get into the 1970s and 1980s, the regime is sufficiently well established that it is now considered normal (Cold War and no UN helps, though Gough Whitlam will have a few things to say, and do). One odd side-effect though will be the presence of a leftist New Zealand exile community swinging elections in Australia. Arthur Calwell is destined to win 1961, for instance.
Hmm. Perhaps on a future revision, I could have have McMillan win a 1945 election. Then move "Tangiwai" to 1948 (another election being scheduled), and hence the war in 1948-1949.
This would have the additional advantage of making the satchel incident occur in 1948, when it really did happen OTL (or at least the event it closely resembles).
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Well, there are endless permutations for this idea really. I say that you box on with your broad plan, finish the timeline. Then if you feel motivated to do a reboot later on, explore the other ideas then.
What took place over the summer of 1945-1946 might best be described as two independent and simultaneous sets of negotiations. The Lee vs. Holland talks remained deadlocked, with Lee unwilling to accept Holland as interim Prime Minister, and Holland (ostensibly) refusing to an amnesty for Red treason. Neither endorsed the Freyberg-Patton partition idea, which remains one of New Zealand history's great what-ifs. Away from the Cook Strait "peace conference", the actual war reached a curious stalemate, with neither side being willing or able to launch an attack on the other island. Instead, both Reds and Blues resorted to random, disorganised, and unplanned acts of local terror in the areas they did control. Tales of burning farmhouses and gratuitous violence often fall into this "middle" period of the war, where everyone felt like venting their frustration. This was also the period where the Blues set up their infamous Taupo prison camp for captured Reds, the prisoners being starved and beaten in the shadow of the still-erupting Mount Ruapehu.
Christmas 1945, however, saw a new development: the Blue RNZAF bombing Red cities, most famously Christchurch. The damage done to the Red Capital has been immortalised in photography and paintings alike, and has formed some of the most iconic images of twentieth century Australasia.
Christchurch Cathedral after the RNZAF attack
More damage from aerial bombardment
News of this only made Canberra, London, and Washington ever more eager for a solution to be reached. But they had already put forward their gambit in the form of Freyberg and Patton - as the neutral representatives close to the action, the expectations of three Governments fell increasingly on these two men. This is where the other, and more secret, set of Cook Strait negotiations came into play. Having gained at least the ear of the British and the Americans, Holland and Algie sought to achieve Allied intervention on behalf of the Blue regime.
Freyberg remained adamant that he (and the British) would do no more than allow fuel shipments to reach Wellington. Patton, despite his intense distaste for Barnes, initially felt much the same way. But, as the ugly stalemate dragged on, starvation began to afflict much of the country, and Christchurch came under ever more intense bombardment from the Blue RNZAF. The Americans began to buckle under the Blue diplomatic assault.
By the middle of March 1946, a secret preliminary deal was reached between Patton and Holland. Accounts differ as to Freyberg's knowledge of this, but it is known that he never made reference to it in any subsequent communication, and that he never shared any information with either Lee or Barnes. Broadly, the agreed plan was as follows:
- The US would provide assistance in getting Blue forces to the South Island.
- The US would loan military equipment to Blue forces.
- The US would not, under any circumstances, engage in combat with the Reds.
- The Holland Government would be permitted to put Lee and his followers on trial, but would not be permitted to execute them.
- The Holland Government would submit to occupation by American, British, and Australian troops for a period of three years. The Allies would take all responsibility for security operations during this time.
- A strict ban on political reprisals against defeated Reds.
Legend has it that the plan made it as far as Harry Truman himself, who is rumoured to have snapped "I don't care who wins, so long as it stops."
Regardless of the truth of the legend, the remainder of March and April saw intense air attacks on coastal defences throughout the upper South Island, damaging radar stations and putting the 6 inch Mark VII guns in Queen Charlotte Sound and Blumine Island temporarily out of action. Lee, realising the talks had become fruitless, returned to Christchurch, and ordered defences in Picton and Nelson strengthened, in the expectation that a Cook Strait attack was imminent.
"If the Tories come through Tory Channel, we'll give them a warm welcome," he remarked.
Nelson's coastal defence: a 6 inch Mark VII gun in the Port Hills
In the event, Lee was only partly right. On 25th April, 1946, Blue forces arrived in the South Island. But not in Nelson or Marlborough.
Christmas 1945, however, saw a new development: the Blue RNZAF bombing Red cities, most famously Christchurch. The damage done to the Red Capital has been immortalised in photography and paintings alike, and has formed some of the most iconic images of twentieth century Australasia.
Christchurch Cathedral after the RNZAF attack
More damage from aerial bombardment
News of this only made Canberra, London, and Washington ever more eager for a solution to be reached. But they had already put forward their gambit in the form of Freyberg and Patton - as the neutral representatives close to the action, the expectations of three Governments fell increasingly on these two men. This is where the other, and more secret, set of Cook Strait negotiations came into play. Having gained at least the ear of the British and the Americans, Holland and Algie sought to achieve Allied intervention on behalf of the Blue regime.
Freyberg remained adamant that he (and the British) would do no more than allow fuel shipments to reach Wellington. Patton, despite his intense distaste for Barnes, initially felt much the same way. But, as the ugly stalemate dragged on, starvation began to afflict much of the country, and Christchurch came under ever more intense bombardment from the Blue RNZAF. The Americans began to buckle under the Blue diplomatic assault.
By the middle of March 1946, a secret preliminary deal was reached between Patton and Holland. Accounts differ as to Freyberg's knowledge of this, but it is known that he never made reference to it in any subsequent communication, and that he never shared any information with either Lee or Barnes. Broadly, the agreed plan was as follows:
- The US would provide assistance in getting Blue forces to the South Island.
- The US would loan military equipment to Blue forces.
- The US would not, under any circumstances, engage in combat with the Reds.
- The Holland Government would be permitted to put Lee and his followers on trial, but would not be permitted to execute them.
- The Holland Government would submit to occupation by American, British, and Australian troops for a period of three years. The Allies would take all responsibility for security operations during this time.
- A strict ban on political reprisals against defeated Reds.
Legend has it that the plan made it as far as Harry Truman himself, who is rumoured to have snapped "I don't care who wins, so long as it stops."
Regardless of the truth of the legend, the remainder of March and April saw intense air attacks on coastal defences throughout the upper South Island, damaging radar stations and putting the 6 inch Mark VII guns in Queen Charlotte Sound and Blumine Island temporarily out of action. Lee, realising the talks had become fruitless, returned to Christchurch, and ordered defences in Picton and Nelson strengthened, in the expectation that a Cook Strait attack was imminent.
"If the Tories come through Tory Channel, we'll give them a warm welcome," he remarked.
Nelson's coastal defence: a 6 inch Mark VII gun in the Port Hills
In the event, Lee was only partly right. On 25th April, 1946, Blue forces arrived in the South Island. But not in Nelson or Marlborough.
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Interesting.
You may wish to rethink the actual attack plan though. I find it hard to believe anyone could sneak up on Picton during a civil war, given that it is at the end of a long set of sounds, in a protected bay.
I do know there were some defensive positions built during the war and so I'd imagine they would still be there and in good condition. There are also radar stations.
Assuming that is all manned and working, the Picton defence forces would at least be aware of the invasion force, possibly even able to deal some damage en route.
I'd also wonder if it is a good idea to land in Picton. It being surrounded by mountains and one narrow road going south. A small armed force could delay any advance for days.
I don't know much about the local geography, but I wonder if an amphibious assault below the mountain range, in Cloudy Bay might be better.
http://www.theprow.org.nz/yourstory/picton-and-world-war-ii/#.VGXuPPmsUeQ
You may wish to rethink the actual attack plan though. I find it hard to believe anyone could sneak up on Picton during a civil war, given that it is at the end of a long set of sounds, in a protected bay.
I do know there were some defensive positions built during the war and so I'd imagine they would still be there and in good condition. There are also radar stations.
Assuming that is all manned and working, the Picton defence forces would at least be aware of the invasion force, possibly even able to deal some damage en route.
I'd also wonder if it is a good idea to land in Picton. It being surrounded by mountains and one narrow road going south. A small armed force could delay any advance for days.
I don't know much about the local geography, but I wonder if an amphibious assault below the mountain range, in Cloudy Bay might be better.
http://www.theprow.org.nz/yourstory/picton-and-world-war-ii/#.VGXuPPmsUeQ
OK. While there is a certain delicious appropriateness in having the Blues invade via Tory Channel, I agree it'd be too well defended.
The difficulty is that they can't attack further around to the west, because Buller and Tasman are Red heartlands, and they can't do the east, because of the height of the cliffs. And Nelson had coastal defences too.
Perhaps the RNZAF puts the radar stations out of order, and in the Blues use the resulting disruption to full advantage?
The difficulty is that they can't attack further around to the west, because Buller and Tasman are Red heartlands, and they can't do the east, because of the height of the cliffs. And Nelson had coastal defences too.
Perhaps the RNZAF puts the radar stations out of order, and in the Blues use the resulting disruption to full advantage?
Hmm. Well, I guess there are two main options.
1. You deal with the coastal defences.
Incorporate into the earlier story, along the lines of removal of the weapons for use elsewhere before the Civil War. Then have the radar sabotaged by the staff, who had Blue sympathies.
Then, combine that with the fact that the Sounds are barely occupied, with the local farmers probably having been removed/left. It may be possible to sneak in. Plan some sort of covert attack, then swarm in.
It is probably just easier to do it this way and handwave the fine detail.
2. Alternative invasion points. Blenheim, Kaikoura, further south?
The problem with invading north of the Waiau River in Northern Canterbury is that it there are mountains everywhere, narrow passes, narrow coastal shelves. Even if you seize Picton and Blenheim quickly and secure that area, you are still stuck on the drive south if the defenders get wind of it and are able to move forces to block the routes out. Same is true for the advance to Nelson-Tasman.
It wouldn't take much for the defender to blow the Southern coastal road/rail so I assume any invasion from Picton / Blenheim needs to push down the Wairau River valley. That seems like a long hard slog unless the Reds collapse.
Further south and you are into Canterbury / Otago, there are not a lot of proper ports until Oamaru south.
I'm now wondering if the OTL NZ Army has ever contemplated (on a purely hypothetical basis) an invasion of one island by the other.
Maybe if the RNZAF employs a few men with parachutes? If so, the Blues could possibly launch a sneak aerial attack on Nelson, followed up by a naval attack and landing?
(Dear god, I've written myself into an antipodean Sealion, haven't I?).
Maybe if the RNZAF employs a few men with parachutes? If so, the Blues could possibly launch a sneak aerial attack on Nelson, followed up by a naval attack and landing?
(Dear god, I've written myself into an antipodean Sealion, haven't I?).
Hahaha, yes, yes you have. This is a good thing though, as everyone needs a new version of that old bugbear!
My suggestion here would be several landing points, perhaps timed with heavy fighting elsewhere and then inevitable panic causing a collapse and perhaps a revolt.
So, a series of sightings off the East, West and Tasman coasts, to cause panic and confuse the defenders as to where to go, then about the same time, land and claim a base.
Given the nature of the Sounds, I imagine you could infiltrate several small landing parties to seize small coves or positions, guarding Picton, then a bigger force to Picton. Maybe land several small parties in Cloudy Bay as well. Then try and infiltrate more to seize the road between Picton and Blenheim, maybe by parachute.
Once that area is seized, then all panic should break out with the Reds as they move forces around.
Personally, if you can find the ships, I would go straight for Oamaru. Aim for a contested landing in the port, whilst landing small parties at Waitaki Bridge to stop reinforcements and a larger party south of Oamaru and at Kakanui/Moeraki to slow reinforcements from Dunedin. You wouldn't need a huge amount of soldiers and the locals farmers would be sympathetic.
That would cut the island in half, as if Oamaru is controlled, then it can be easily defended from land and commands the Waitaki Valley up to the Southern Alps. Very hard for a blocking force there.
Oamaru also has, at this time, a perfectly serviceable local port, which received coastal shipping (till the 70s).
As a believer in thinking outside the box, I'm currently researching the career of Te Rauparaha: someone who really did launch naval invasions of the South from the North, with muskets. Unfortunately, from what I've read so far, he relied largely on the element of surprise.
Back to research it is...
(I'm not a military historian, but I do like details paid attention to).
Back to research it is...
(I'm not a military historian, but I do like details paid attention to).
Well it seems like your story needs the Blues to win reasonably quickly, so I suggest you go for a variation on your original. Just add a little detail to make the invasion more plausible, handwave the rest.
Then, I would imagine, like in the North Island for the Blues, the Reds are not so much in control in the South that they will be able to easily hold everything. People will likely defect or rise up in the Blues can induce panic.
Alternatively, change the story and go for Partition as earlier outlined.