#the royal netherlands navy

[postcard-from-the-past]

Aircraft ready to depart on the HNLMS Karel Doorman Colossus-class aircraft carrier of the Royal Netherlands Navy

Dutch vintage postcard, mailed in 1962 to the Netherlands

[illustratus]

The Battle of Texel 1673 by Jan de Quelery

[usafphantom2]

Sea Hawks on Netherlands carrier Karel Doorman. She was ex RN HMS Venerable, and subsequently became ARA Veinticinco de Maio.

@CcibChris via X

[royalchildreneurope]

Crown Princess Catharina-Amalia of The Netherlands met three parts of the Dutch military force this year on the occasion of her 18th birthday : The Royal Netherlands Air Force, the Royal Netherlands Army and the Royal Netherlands Navy -December 2nd 2022.

On August 31st 2022, Princess Catharina-Amalia visited the Royal Navy, the armed forces unit where her father started his training.

📷 : Koninklijk Huis.

[streetsofdublin]

DUTCH PATROL VESSEL P840 NAMED HOLLAND AT HOGAN QUAY IN CORK

The sensor systems are housed in an integrated mast, also provided by Thales, called the I-Mast 400. Thales also built the satellite communications system for the ships.

I USED A SIGMA QUATTRO DP1 I photographed this ship three times during my visit to cork and every time I used a different camera, For this session I used an old Sigma Quattro DP1. The Holland-class ocean-going patrol vessels are a class of four ocean-going patrol vessels constructed for the Royal Netherlands Navy. They are designed to fulfill patrol and intervention tasks against lightly armed…

[whencyclopedia]

D-Day was 80 years ago today!

D-Day was the first day of Operation Overlord, the Allied attack on German-occupied Western Europe, which began on the beaches of Normandy, France, on 6 June 1944. Primarily US, British, and Canadian troops, with naval and air support, attacked five beaches, landing some 135,000 men in a day widely considered to have changed history.

Where to Attack?

Operation Overlord, which sought to attack occupied Europe starting with an amphibious landing in northwest France, Belgium, or the Netherlands, had been in the planning since January 1943 when Allied leaders agreed to the build-up of British and US troops in Britain. The Allies were unsure where exactly to land, but the requirements were simple: as short a sea crossing as possible and within range of Allied fighter cover. A third requirement was to have a major port nearby, which could be captured and used to land further troops and equipment. The best fit seemed to be Normandy with its flat beaches and port of Cherbourg.

The Atlantic Wall

The leader of Nazi Germany, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945), called his western line of defences the Atlantic Wall. It had gaps but presented an impressive string of fortifications along the coast from Spain to the Netherlands. Construction of gun batteries, bunker networks, and observation posts began as early as 1942.

Many of the German divisions were not crack troops but inexperienced soldiers, who were spending more time building defences than in vital military training. There was a woeful lack of materials for Hitler's dream of the Atlantic Wall, really something of a Swiss cheese, with some strong areas, but many holes. The German army was not provided with sufficient mines, explosives, concrete, or labourers to better protect the coastline. At least one-third of gun positions still had no casement protection. Many installations were not bomb-proof. Another serious weakness was naval and air support. The navy had a mere 4 destroyers available and 39 E-boats while the Luftwaffe's (German Air Force's) contribution was equally paltry with only 319 planes operating in the skies when the invasion took place (rising to 1,000) in the second week.

Neptune to Normandy

Preparation for Overlord occurred right through April and May of 1940 when the Royal Air Force (RAF) and United States Air Force (USAAF) relentlessly bombed communications and transportation systems in France as well as coastal defences, airfields, industrial targets, and military installations. In total, over 200,000 missions were conducted to weaken as much as possible the Nazi defences ready for the infantry troops about to be involved in the largest troop movement in history. The French Resistance also played their part in preparing the way by blowing up train lines and communication systems that would ensure the defenders could not effectively respond to the invasion.

The Allied fleet of 7,000 vessels of all kinds departed from English south-coast ports such as Falmouth, Plymouth, Poole, Portsmouth, Newhaven, and Harwich. In an operation code-named Neptune, the ships gathered off Portsmouth in a zone called 'Piccadilly Circus' after the busy London road junction, and then made their way to Normandy and the assault areas. At the same time, gliders and planes flew to the Cherbourg peninsula in the west and Ouistreham on the eastern edge of the planned landing. Paratroopers of the 82nd and 101st US Airborne Division attacked in the west to try and cut off Cherbourg. At the eastern extremity of the operation, paratroopers of the 6th British Airborne Division aimed to secure Pegasus Bridge over the Caen Canal. Other tasks of the paratrooper and glider units were to destroy bridges to impede the enemy, hold others necessary for the invasion to progress, destroy gun emplacements, secure the beach exits, and protect the invasion's flanks.

The Beaches

The amphibious attack was set for dawn on 5 June, daylight being a requirement for the necessary air and naval support. Bad weather led to a postponement of 24 hours. Shortly after midnight, the first waves of 23,000 British and American paratroopers landed in France. US paratroopers who dropped near Ste-Mère-Église ensured this was the first French town to be liberated. From 3.00 a.m., air and naval bombardment of the Normandy coast began, letting up just 15 minutes before the first infantry troops landed on the beaches at 6.30 a.m.

The beaches selected for the landings were divided into zones, each given a code name. US troops attacked two, the British army another two, and the Canadian force the fifth. These beaches and the troops assigned to them were (west to east):

Utah Beach - 4th US Infantry Division, 7th US Corps (1st US Army commanded by Lieutenant General Omar N. Bradley)

Omaha Beach - 1st US Infantry Division, 5th US Corps (1st US Army)

Gold Beach - 50th British Infantry Division, 30th British Corps (2nd British Army commanded by Lieutenant-General Miles C. Dempsey)

Juno Beach - 3rd Canadian Infantry Division (2nd British Army)

Sword Beach - 3rd British Infantry Division, 1st British Corps (2nd British Army)

In addition, the 2nd US Rangers were to attack the well-defended Pointe du Hoc between Utah and Omaha (although it turned out the guns had never been installed there), while Royal Marine Commando units attacked targets on Gold, Juno, and Sword.

The RAF and USAAF continued to protect the invasion fleet and ensure any enemy ground-based counterattack faced air attack. As the Allies could put in the air 12,000 aircraft at this stage, the Luftwaffe's aerial fightback was pitifully inadequate. On D-Day alone, the Allied air forces flew 15,000 sorties compared to the Luftwaffe's 100. Not one single Allied aircraft was lost to enemy fire on D-Day.

Packing Normandy

By the end of D-Day, 135,000 men had been landed and relatively few casualties were sustained – some 5,000 men. There were some serious cock-ups, notably the hopeless dispersal of the paratroopers (only 4% of the US 101st Air Division were dropped at the intended target zone), but, if anything, this caused even more confusion amongst the German commanders on the ground as it seemed the Allies were attacking everywhere. The defenders, overcoming the initial handicap that many area commanders were at a strategy conference in Rennes, did eventually organise themselves into a counterattack, deploying their reserves and pulling in troops from other parts of France. This is when French resistance and aerial bombing became crucial, seriously hampering the German army's effort to reinforce the coastal areas of Normandy. The German field commanders wanted to withdraw, regroup and attack in force, but, on 11 June, Hitler ordered there be no retreat.

All of the original invasion beaches were linked as the Allies pushed inland. To aid thousands more troops following up the initial attack, two artificial floating harbours were built. Code-named Mulberries, these were located off Omaha and Gold beaches and were built from 200 prefabricated units. A storm hit on 20 June, destroying the Mulberry Harbour off Omaha, but the one at Gold was still serviceable, allowing some 11,000 tons of material to be landed every 24 hours. The other problem for the Allies was how to supply thousands of vehicles with the fuel they needed. The short-term solution, code-named Tombola, was to have tanker ships pump fuel to storage tanks on shore, using buoyed pipelines. The longer-term solution was code-named Pluto (Pipeline Under the Ocean), a pipeline under the Channel to Cherbourg through which fuel could be pumped. Cherbourg was taken on 27 June and was used to ship in more troops and supplies, although the defenders had sunk ships to block the harbour and these took some six weeks to fully clear.

Operation Neptune officially ended on 30 June. Around 850,000 men, 148,800 vehicles, and 570,000 tons of stores and equipment had been landed since D-Day. The next phase of Overlord was to push the occupiers out of Normandy. The defenders were not only having logistical problems but also command issues as Hitler replaced Rundstedt with Field Marshal Günther von Kluge (1882-1944) and formally warned Rommel not to be defeatist.

Aftermath: The Normandy Campaign

By early July, the Allies, having not got further south than around 20 miles (32 km) from the coast, were behind schedule. Poor weather was limiting the role of aircraft in the advance. The German forces were using the countryside well to slow the Allied advance – countless small fields enclosed with trees and hedgerows which limited visibility and made tanks vulnerable to ambush. Caen was staunchly defended and required Allied bombers to obliterate the city on 7 July. The German troops withdrew but still held one-half of the city. The Allies lost around 500 tanks trying to take Caen, vital to any push further south. The advance to Avranches was equally tortuous, and 40,000 men were lost in two weeks of heavy fighting. By the end of July, the Allies had taken Caen, Avranches, and the vital bridge at Pontaubault. From 1 August, Patton and the US Third Army were punching south at the western side of the offensive, and the Brittany ports of St. Malo, Brest, and Lorient were taken.

German forces counterattacked to try and retake Avranches, but Allied air power was decisive. Through August 1940, the Allies swept southwards to the Loire River from St. Nazaire to Orléans. On 15 August, a major landing took place on the southwest coast of France (French Riviera landings) and Marseille was captured on 28 August. In northern France, the Allies captured enough territory, ports, and airfields for a massive increase in material support. On 25 August, Paris was liberated. By mid-September, the Allied troops in the north and south of France had linked up and the campaign front expanded eastwards pushing on to the borders of Germany. There would be setbacks like Operation Market Garden of September and a brief fightback at the Battle of the Bulge in December 1944, but the direction of the war and ultimate Allied victory was now a question of not if but when.

[captain-price-unofficially]

The 224e Régiment d'Infanterie en route from Dunkirk to Vlissengen to join the defense of the Netherlands, 10 May 1940. Royal Navy destroyer also photographed as part of the convoy.

[blurredcolour]

You Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under | Part Two

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Dick Winters x Female SOE Agent!Reader

Dick's mandated dose of civilization puts him, quite literally, on a collision course with someone he had not expected to see again.

Warnings: Discussion of Injuries and Death, Hints of PTSD, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Language, Mature/Explicit Themes [handjob, fingering, vaginal sex, condoms] - 18+ ONLY.

Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal of Dick Winters by Damian Lewis. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within. Non-English is denoted in italics.

Word Count: 6723

--------------------------

Paris – December 10, 1944

Seeing your roommate off on her train to Arnhem was not exactly how you’d pictured spending your first day off in months. But Lucy had become a close friend to you over the past several weeks you’d shared the relatively luxurious accommodations, and she was all nerves as she headed even closer to the German border. Dressed in your Canadian Women’s Army Corp uniform with Lucy, or Luus in her native Dutch, in her Women’s Royal Navy Service uniform, you had helped her cart her belongings to Gare du Nord to catch her train.

Neither of you had technically trained in the respective uniforms you wore, instead coming to the service by way of the Strategic Operations Executive, due to your language abilities and other skills. Lucy’s family had only very recently moved to England from the Netherlands and her mastery of the Dutch language would be an asset to the Allied headquarters being established in Arnhem. Similarly, you were expecting to spend the rest of the war working in Paris. Exchanging knives and explosives for typewriter ribbon and file folders. Your feelings on the matter oscillated between relief and impotence on a daily basis, but you had little say in the matter.

Waiting until her train was pulling its way out of the station, you began making your way through the flood of passengers disembarking from another train that had pulled in across the platform. Several people bumped into you but only one apologized.

“Sorry –” Spoke a voice you’d probably recognize just about anywhere before he repeated. “Excusez-moi.”

You spun around quickly, eyes going wide as the Lieutenant from Normandy stood before you, sending your thoughts hurtling back to early June. You had been gasping for breath – the proximity of the detonation had driven the air from your lungs, compounded by the now dead weight of the German solider on top of you. An obnoxious ringing had taken up residence in your ears, obscuring any and all other sound as you had futilely pushed at the burden above you, shock weakening your muscles. The ground had begun to tremble then, an immediately recognizable sign that tanks were approaching, increasing the beat of your heart to a frantic rate as you lay essentially incapacitated in the road.

Suddenly the pressure above you had eased and you had frozen, holding your breath and closing your eyes, unable to determine just who exactly was intervening in your situation. When a pair of fingers found the pulse in your neck and two sets of hands lifted you from the road, you had risked cracking your eyelids only to be greeted by the sight of the Lieutenant carrying you by your knees. His face had been wreathed in sunlight, sea-glass green eyes striking in the shadow cast beneath his helmet, looking practically ethereal as he had moved you to safety.

Brought back to the present by the realization that you were gaping at him like a startled rabbit, lost in your memories, your eyes flicked to the cap on his head and confidently noted his promotion. “A captain now.”

“A Canadian now.” He replied as his own eyes settled on the patch embroidered on your shoulder. “Or were you always, Charlotte?” The hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his green eyes met yours.

Your throat clenched at the name, and you swallowed hard to clear it before smiling even wider than before. “I’m sorry you’ve got me confused with my good friend Charlotte Roussel. She’s told me all about you.” You offered your hand to shake as you introduced yourself properly, no pseudonym this time, only your real name.

Taking your gloved hand in his, he shook it firmly with a bemused expression playing on his face. “Dick Winters. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Captain. If you are in need of a place to stay, I happen to have a recently vacated room in my apartment I would be happy to loan to you, free of charge. The hotels in Paris would love nothing more than to liberate you of your American dollars.” You hazarded a guess that he was on a short leave based on the small bag he carried at his side.

“I wouldn’t want to impose…” His denial was half-hearted, leaving you with an opening to convince him.

“Not at all. Besides, Charlotte would not forgive me if I did not repay you for saving her life.” You insisted with a nod, not missing the way his eyes slid to your forehead. You flexed your fingers at your sides, willing them to remain there rather than nervously checking that your hair was covering the still-healing scar.

“If I remember it correctly, she saved mine first.”

“Please it’s just a short subway ride.” You gestured down the significantly emptier platform and he nodded his assent, turning to follow you.

You helped him purchase his fare, his unfamiliarity with the local currency somehow charming, before guiding him underground. Securing a pair of seats by the door, he had barely slid into place before someone was calling your name from further down the carriage.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back.” You apologized before hurrying over to greet one of your colleagues, a staff assistant to one of the officers at headquarters.

He asked you all about your plans for your days off while not-so-subtly trying to find out more about the American soldier you had boarded the subway with. It was an easy topic to skirt around by encouraging him to talk about his recent promotion and his new French girlfriend, but you found your eyes glancing at Captain Winters as his posture seemed to grow more and more rigid.

“Sorry to cut you off, First Sergeant Danvers, but I’ll see you in the office on Tuesday.” You excused yourself as politely but as firmly as possible before returning to stand beside the Captain, very carefully setting your hand on his shoulder.

“Captain?” You asked softly, swallowing as he looked to you sharply before slowly exhaling. “Next stop is ours.”

He nodded and gathered his things, following you off the train at the station and up the stairs back into the light of day. Your apartment lay in a building that had been requestioned by the British army, not two blocks from the station, on the second floor. The previous owners had fled in the face of German occupation and left some furnishings which you were using, though more beds were slated for delivery in January with the arrival of further CWACs. Unlocking the door, you led Captain Winters into the foyer, carefully removing your uniform cap to hang by the door.

“Kitchen is on the left, living room overlooks the street, bedrooms and the bathroom are this way.” You led him down a corridor to the room that Lucy had just vacated, retrieving her apartment key from the nightstand. “So you can come-and-go as you please.”

He took it carefully after tucking his garrison cap into his belt, setting his bag on the freshly made bed. “This is extremely kind of you, thank you again.”

Now that you were no longer in public, you licked your lips, feeling as though you owed him a proper explanation. “I considered our accounts balance, Captain, once you helped me retrieve my men. Therefore, I owe you for saving my life.”

Captain Winters eyed you intensely as he registered your use of ‘I’ and ‘my.’

“I’ve seen you wear many different costumes…how close to your real persona is this one?” He asked, looking over your CWAC uniform curiously.

“The closest, honestly, though I don’t feel like I’ve really earned the Sergeant’s stripes, they are necessary to explain my presence so far forward. The war is over for Charlotte, France all-but liberated, yet I still have skills to contribute. And my British accent is sh – shameful.” You corrected yourself with a smirk, recalling his distaste for coarse language, enjoying the twitch of his lips in response. “I’m assisting with translation in the Allied offices here. The delay in relaying them to England is no longer necessary.”

“So, really a Canadian.” He confirmed.

“Yes, and you know my real name, too.” You nodded reassuringly. “But I’m assuming you’d like to see more of Paris than just this apartment?” You laughed and he nodded quickly. “Would you like a guide or –”

The ‘yes’ was out of his mouth before you even had the chance to give him an out and you bowed your head lest he see the smile that pulled from you.

“That is, if you’re free and willing…” He amended, tone sheepish.

“It’s the least I can do for the man who saved me from being crushed by a tank.” You smirked and he chuckled before his eyes widened.

“I still have your knife, back at the base.” He frowned.

You grinned a little, shaking your head. “Good. That’s good.” Echoing his words to you when he realized your hearing had returned. “Keep it. It saw me through a lot of things. I hope it does the same for you.”

He eyed you a moment. “Thank you…for your honesty, and the knife.” He clarified.

“I apologize that I cannot always be honest with you, but I will endeavour to do so as circumstances permit. Now, I’m assuming you haven’t had lunch?”

“Not yet, no.”

“There’s an excellent café not far from here, shall we?” You led him back out through the foyer, snagging your cap on the way by, the pair of you taking a moment on the threshold to secure your uniform cover before you locked the door and headed back outside.

The streets were filled with soldiers on leave, but with his height and bright red hair, it was difficult to lose him in the crowd. Securing a table outside, you walked him through the menu before ordering on his behalf in French.

“Where did you learn to speak it so well?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Oxford.” You swallowed hesitantly as not many men appreciated the fact that you had studied at university, let alone a prestigious school in England. To your great relief he titled his head back and simply laughed.

“Nix would be so jealous to hear you say that…” He shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee as it was delivered.

“Lieutenant Nixon?” You clarified, taking the time to add the packet of Saccharin that you had requested to sweeten the bitter liquid.

“He’s a captain now, but yes. A Yale man, but not an Oxford man.”

You laughed in relief, sipping your own beverage once it was slightly more palatable.

“What took you there?”

“Scholarship, and my uncle, my mother’s brother, lived there. The opportunity to go to Europe was difficult to pass up. I began my undergraduate degree in 1938.”

He shook his head, presumably at the timing. “Did you manage to finish?”

You nodded quickly. “Graduated with a major in French, minor in German in the spring of 1942.”

He hummed thoughtfully, the strategic value of those two languages going unspoken in such a crowded space.

“How about yourself?” You prompted as your food arrived, laying your napkin across your lap.

“I went to Franklin & Marshall College in Pennsylvania – definitely not Oxford or Yale. Graduated with an Economics degree in ’41. Tried to get my military service out of the way early but then Pearl Harbor happened and well, here I am…” He shrugged, tucking into his food.

The pair of you spent a good hour, trading questions back and forth between bites of your food, learning about your families, where you had grown up, why you had joined the war effort.

“My uncle was killed during an air raid in London in May of 1941. He’d gone to visit a friend and stayed the night – apparently, they had tried to drink the pub dry.” You shook your head fondly in memory. “The Luftwaffe decided to bomb the neighborhood that night, neither of them even made it into the shelter. I almost quit my studies the next day to join FANY or become a Land Girl or just…do something useful.” You sighed leaning back in your chair as the waitstaff came to collect your empty plates, avoiding Captain Winters’ gaze, though you could feel his eyes on your cheek. “Friend of mine convinced me I could do more good if I finished what I started – that my language skills would be put to good use once I honed them.”

“Sounds like a wise friend.” He replied softly and you turned to him.

“They are. Helped me get where I am today.” You nodded meaningfully, a movement which he mirrored in unspoken understanding. “Anyway, I’m meant to be showing you around.” You forced a smile and summoned the bill, though Captain Winters beat you to punch by laying a large number of francs on the table, not allowing you to pay for your own meal. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He replied, pulling out your chair once he’d received his change.

Leading him along the historic streets you showed him some of the more famous sites, waiting patiently as he picked up a pack of postcards to send home as the sun began to set.

“There’s a popular restaurant just up the street, did you want to try and get a table for dinner?” You offered once he rejoined you, tucking his purchase into his pocket.

“That would be nice, yes.” He nodded, his hand hovering just above your lower back as you navigated your way along the crowded sidewalk to the restaurant.

Placing your name on the waitlist, the pair of you were idling patiently in the foyer when your direct report Major Wilkes stepped out of the dining room, making you stand up straighter. “Good evening, sir.”

He looked over to you and the American Captain standing tall at your side, greeting you in kind. “Enjoying your well-earned rest, Sergeant?” He asked warmly.

“Yes sir, thank you again.”

“You’ve earned it.” He reminded you with a laugh.

“Major Wilkes, may I present Captain Winters of the 101st Airborne.” You introduced the men to one another properly as you recalled your manners.

The two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries before Major Wilkes turned back to the maître d,’ murmuring something neither of you could hear. “See you on Tuesday, Sergeant. Enjoy your time in Paris, Captain.”

“Good night, sir.” You smiled, glancing at the Captain before the maître d’ was calling your name to seat you, ahead of several other groups who had been waiting longer.

“Your CO seems to like you.” Captain Winters murmured once you were settled at a table a few rows back from the dancefloor, not too close to the bandstand.

“Major Wilkes is a good man, easy to work for.” You nodded, setting your cap on the empty chair beside you.

“I’m glad. And grateful.” He lifted the menu, and you leaned in once more to walk him through the options, swallowing as he smelled of Brylcreem and aftershave.

Conversation didn’t flow as easily once the band started playing, couples crowding the dancefloor as you enjoyed some delicious yet overpriced food. The Captain seemed to be watching you closely, glancing between you and the dancefloor, until a slow song began to play, and he leaned in. “Would you like to dance?”

Dabbing at the corner of your mouth with your napkin you nodded quickly, heart leaping into your throat as he pulled out your chair to help you stand. You set your hand in his, following him onto the crowded dancefloor as he set one hand on your waist, the other held out to the side in his as he swayed with you to the music. Neither of you were particularly talented dancers, but you could not deny how lovely it felt to be held this close by him. You glanced at him with a shy smile, certain the tips of his ears were pink, though it may have been the dim lighting, before you looked to the side as you nibbled your lip, trying to even out your breathing.

Belatedly you realized that Captain Winters was speaking to you, into your right ear, which had never fully recovered from your roadside escapade in Normandy. It had a habit of being particularly uncooperative in crowded, noisy places such as this. Registering the vibrations of his voice you turned your head quickly to look up at him. “I’m so sorry could you repeat that please?” You asked before offering him your left ear.

After a moment or two of nothing but music you turned back to see him frowning deeply.

“Oh, Captain, please, it’s the only thing, and then only sometimes, not always.” You tried to reassure him, reaching out to smooth the furrow of his brow with your fingertips.

“Please call me Dick.” He replied, leaning towards your left ear as he spoke.

“Alright, Dick.” You exhaled, your heart fluttering erratically as you turned your head to press your lips against his softy.

His feet stopped moving altogether, hand clasping yours tighter as you felt the fingers of his other hand curling into the back of your uniform jacket. His lips pressed closer to yours, drawing a barely audible sigh through your nose, until another couple carelessly bumped into you, jolting you apart. Dick carefully steadied you and you squeezed his hand, leading him back to the table to grab you cap. He flagged down a waiter and, infuriatingly, paid yet again before leading you out in the dim streets out black-out Paris.

“I was trying to save you money, not make you spend it all.” You gently chastised him, almost stepping off the curb in front of a cyclist you did not hear approaching from the right.

His arm quickly slid around your shoulders, pulling you close into his chest just before they zoomed by spewing curses in their wake. “Careful. I already told you it’s my pleasure.” He assured you before offering his arm.

“Thanks, Dick.” You took it slowly, trying not to let your frustration show. You had previously excelled at navigating dark places and now you were forced to rely on the guidance of others. Taking a fortifying breath, you began leading him along the sidewalk. “I thought we’d walk home, the subway didn’t seem to agree with you?” You asked carefully.

“I’d appreciate that.” He replied, keeping an eye out for further obstacles hidden by the shadows of the black out as the pair of you made your way back to the apartment in companionable silence.

“I just need to close the curtains before we turn on the lights, one moment.” You left Dick in the foyer, setting your cap on the hook by the door before tugging the black out curtains closed in each room, turning the lights on as you made your way back to him. “Sorry about that I wasn’t thinking when we left.”

He shook his head softly, watching you quietly from right where you’d asked him to wait. “Do you think it would be all right if I were to take a hot bath tonight?"

You smiled warmly and nodded. “Absolutely alright, I’ll get you set up.”

Leading him to the bathroom you set out some towels and the bar of soap, turning to him. “There should be plenty of hot water at this time of night, the boiler will have had time to refill. Anything else you need before I leave you to it?”

His lips quirked into a tentative smile. “Yes, might I kiss you goodnight?”

Your pulse quickened as you tried not to smile like a buffoon. “Please.” Your voice waivered slightly, much to your annoyance, but mercifully it did not seem to deter Dick.

He stepped forward, hands cupping the sides of your face tenderly as he angled your lips to meet his. Gripping his forearms to steady yourself, you came to realize that Dick was a different man when he set his mind to something. You had simply taken him by surprise on the dancefloor. This kiss was altogether more assertive and left you breathless as he pulled back.

“Goodnight.” He smiled gently, nose brushing the hair from your forehead to press his lips to the scar there softly.

“Night.” You exhaled, eyes fluttering shut briefly at the surge of emotions that unleashed within you, taking a steady breath before you were able to smile dreamily and slip out.

Retiring to your room, you unpinned your hair carefully before sliding into your cotton nightgown, pulling your quilted housecoat overtop and settling onto the double bed left by the apartments previous owners to do some reading while you waited your turn to use the washroom. Fully absorbed in the novel that Lucy had left for you, you were surprised when you noted that over an hour had passed since you had opened your book. Frowning, you slid your bookmark into place before cracking the door open slightly and peering down the hall, startled to see the bathroom door still closed while the door to the other bedroom remained open.

Gnawing on your lower lip you walked to the end of hall, knocking gently on the door. “Dick?” You waited, frown deepening as there was no response. Your main concern that he had fallen asleep in the deep claw-footed tub, at great risk of drowning. Knocking more firmly, you called his name again. “I’m coming in if you don’t answer.” You warned, giving it a slow count to ten before stepping into the humid washroom, careful to keep your eyes well above the waterline.

True to your concern, the man was sound asleep, thankfully with his head bent back over the edge of the tub, a washcloth cushioning his neck. Impressed by the level of comfort he must be feeling to sleep through all the noise you were making, you took a step closer, calling his name yet again. Kneeling beside the tub with your back to his lower body, you focused on his peacefully sleeping face, shaking your head in awe before reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He jolted awake, sending now-tepid water sloshing over the side of the tub and down your housecoat onto the backs of your calves. You let out an involuntary gasp at the temperature shock.

“Aw heck, I’m so sorry I…” His hands quickly dove under the water to cover himself.

“It’s alright, I’m glad you’re ok.” You smiled, waving off his concern and leaned in to kiss his cheek before moving to stand.

“Before you leave uh, could you uh pass the soap?” He’d gone red to the tips of his ears.

You bit the inside of your cheek to smother your grin and fetched it from atop the towel behind you. As you turned back to him, your eyes accidentally fell on the length of his body beneath the water, hands still firmly cupping between his legs. Unable to look away, to think, to move, Dick’s voice brought you back to reality.

“You alright, honey?” He asked softly and your eyes snapped to his face as the term of endearment dripped from his lips.

“More than alright.” You breathed in reply, seized by the need to lay your hands on his pearly white skin smattered in a constellation of freckles. Shrugging out of your housecoat you were left in your ankle-length nightgown with frills of lace at the shoulders. “May I help?” You tilted your head, kneeling at the edge of the tub once more.

He watched you with wide eyes, seeming unable to avert his gaze this time before his adam’s apple bobbed violently at your question. You waited patiently until he gave you one sharp nod, dipping the bar of soap into the water before you began to drag it along his neck and chest, sliding it beneath his dog tags. Their metallic jangle was the loudest sound in the washroom. You took a moment to rinse his skin clean with your other hand before repeating the pattern with his upper arms and abdomen, shifting to the bottom of the tub to do the same with his calves and feet. You did not miss the way his breaths grew heavier, lips parting slightly, his eyes never once leaving your face.

“Can I wash your hands?” You ask, biting your lip as he only offered one as the other tried and failed to hide his erection.

Swallowing thickly, you focused on washing it thoroughly – between each finger and up to his elbow, rinsing the suds from his skin before holding your hand out for the other.  He set it in yours boldly, meeting your eyes, no longer feeling the need to hide from you as his clean hand gripped the edge of the tub. Once his second hand was clean you leaned in to press your lips to his, trailing the soap down his abdomen once more before dipping it to his left hip then sweeping it back up to before repeating the motion to his right. His breath shuddered against your lips, and you pulled back to look over his face.

“Ok?” You breathed, throat constricting at his blown pupils, and he nodded violently before sliding a hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer, kissing you hungrily. You traced your fingers along the length of him, reveling in the shiver that wracked his body. Abandoning the bar of soap, you wrapped your hand around him fully, running your tongue along his bottom lip as his mouth fell open with a soft gasp.

It was a noise you soon echoed as his tongue slid forward to meet yours, licking into your mouth teasingly at first before he was confidently dominating the kiss. Bracing your free hand against his shoulder, you began to move your first along his length in earnest, lips curling against his as his knees bent before falling open, sloshing still more water from the tub. You could feel the cotton of your nightgown wicking the water higher along the material, surely become more and more translucent with each bit of moisture, yet you remained undeterred.

Forced to part from his lips to suck in a greedy breath to soothe the ache in your lungs, you experimentally swiped your thumb across the tip of his cock, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as his head fell back with a moan, hips nudging towards your hand needily. Encouraged, you made a point of repeating that motion, paying special attention to the head as you reached the apex of each pull. You watched the way his eyebrows knit together, listened to the pants and breathy grunts, felt further onslaughts of water as his hips bucked to your touch. Your thighs pressed together as you felt your panties grow damp in response, desperate for some friction of your own, but nonetheless thoroughly enjoying the act of pleasuring him.

“Honey, I’m…” He lifted his head to look at you quickly, voice tense, jaw muscles ticking.

You nodded eagerly and his fingers, which had been clinging to the back of your neck this entire time, hauled you in to plant his lips against yours fiercely. You happily swallowed his hoarse shout as his hips surged up into your grip, cock twitching as you felt him release into the now-cold bathwater. Stroking him through his release, you placed gentle kisses across his cheeks before shifting your hand to stroke his side.

“That was…” He sighed, speechless before brushing his lips against yours gratefully, cheeks still flushed.

“I’m glad.” You smiled shyly, brushing your nose against his. “Now come on that water is cold.” You murmured, standing and holding open a towel for him.

He gave you a crooked grin before pulling the plug from the drain and leveraging himself to his feet, stepping onto the rather wet bathmat and taking the towel to wrap around his waist. It was only then he properly noticed how much of your skin he could see through the damp patches of your nightgown. “I splashed you quite a bit, didn’t I. Sorry about that.” He murmured.

“I have another nightgown I can change into, don’t worry about it.” You assured him, reaching for your housecoat, but his arms slid around your waist, pulling you against his still-wet torso, drawing a gasp from your chest.

“Don’t bother.” He muttered before kissing you deeply.

Fingers digging into his biceps you squeaked against his lips as he began to shuffle you backwards, shocked that he was confidently leading you through your own apartment nearly blind. Reaching your bedroom, he looked to you softly, gathering the fabric of your nightgown in his hands. “May I?”

You nodded, licking your kiss-swollen lips, before the flurry of sodden cotton obscured your view. He lay it over your desk chair, turning back to you and exhaling reverently.

“You are so beautiful, honey.”

“Dick…” You whispered shyly in protest, but he shook his head, long fingers cradling your face tenderly to force your eyes to meet his.

“So beautiful.” He repeated, guiding you to lay on the bed.

Sliding on the mattress next to you, his lips began to map the skin on your jaw, body braced on his left arm while his right slid along your collarbone. Delving your fingers into his short ginger locks, you sighed warmly, tilting your head to offer more skin to his exploring mouth. Touch featherlight, his fingertips traced down the swell of your breast, making you arch towards his hand in invitation as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. You rewarded him with a soft moan as he cupped your tender flesh fully, gently kneading the weight of it in his warm palm, your nails brushing against his scalp.

As he reached the hollow of your throat, he darted his tongue out to lap at the skin there, making you writhe sightly beneath him. The contrast of his warm skin and the rough metal of his dog tags pressing against you was making your head swim. The addition of his tongue as he lapped at the supple flesh of your breast had you mewling breathlessly, once again pressing your thighs together to try and assuage the sheer need you felt. His hand slid along your side, progress slowing as his fingertips encountered the long, jagged scar there. It was well-healed by now, but still raised to the touch. He swiped his thumb along it tenderly before his hand moved to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze before skirting down your thigh. Exhaling shakily, you parted your legs for him, the pair of you gasping as his fingers cupped between your thighs.

“Dick.” You whimpered.

“Ok?” He looked to your face quickly and you nodded rapidly, lifting your hips to help him slid your panties down and off your legs.

 Your eyes fluttered shut as his fingers returned to trace your folds before carefully parting them. His thumb came to circle your clit, the callous on the edge of his digit working wonders as his index finger dipped into the entrance to your warmth, teasing you.

“Oh my god..sh…” You belatedly caught your curse, not missing the way he chuckled against your shoulder before pressing his lips to your skin fondly. You forced your eyes open to look at him, if a bit blearily, but the smug bastard only replied by sinking his finger fully into you. “Christ!” You moaned richly, completely losing control of your manners, and your volume, as he stroked it along your silken walls before adding another.

Graciously, he pressed his lips to yours to smother any further curses his actions might have drawn from you, and you moaned richly against his tongue as you clung to his shoulders. You barely even noticed the way his dog tags were knocking into your chin, but he insisted on pulling back for a moment to swing them behind his neck before sliding a second finger into you. Your thighs began to tremble as you bucked wildly towards his hand, panting against his lips.

“P..please…” You pleaded, so very close, not wanting him to lose interest in your pleasure as your only other partner had seemed want to do.

“I’ve got you, honey, I’ve got you.” He reassured you, the pace of his fingers increasing until your thighs clamped down around his hand. Hastily, he covered your mouth with his as he felt your walls begin to flutter, smothering your wail as your nails dug into his skin slightly.

Chest heaving, you pulled back from his lips to try and catch your breath, body still trembling with small aftershocks of pleasure. Dick gently slid his fingers from your body, your breath hitching in your throat before you smiled at him fondly.

“Good?” He asked softly, smoothing the hair from your face tenderly.

“Very good.” You reassured him, pecking his lips warmly.

They curled against yours in a soft grin before he whispered your name as you tugged the very loose towel from his lips to find his cock fully erect once more.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking to you.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked and he paused a moment before nodding.

“I’ll be right back.” He quickly secured the towel around his waist again, making you chew your lip fondly as he dashed out of the room. He was not gone a full minute before he returned with several individually wrapped paper packets, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Optimistic man.”

He laughed under his breath. “It’s cold tonight, I didn’t want to have to leave this room again.” He explained, shutting the door behind him before shedding the towel and climbing into bed with you.

Working together, you secured the latex sheath over his length before Dick settled between your thighs. He rested his weight on his right forearm beside your head, fingertips stroking your hair as he took his cock in hand. “Ok, honey?”

He checked one last time and your hearth clenched warmly as you reached out to cup his cheek. “Yes.” You reassured him, running your thumb along his lower lip.

He pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb before rolling his hips forward, carefully sinking into your warmth, his fingers, now free of their burden, lacing with yours and pining your hand to the pillow. His jaw hung open as your body welcomed him inch by inch, stretching to envelope him completely until his pelvis nestled snuggly against yours.

“Mhmm!” You keened, rocking up against him eager for him to move as he brought a feeling of completion that you’d never felt before.

His fingers flexed in your grip before he began the push and pull to build another orgasm within you, his grunts and breathy moans blended with words of adoration, all directed into your left ear. The mixture of it all – the pleasure, the care, the emotions – brought tears to your eyes and praise tumbled from your own lips in return.

“So good, Dick.”

“Like an angel, honey.”

“Just like that, yes!”

“Only you can make me feel this good.”

“Oh, Dick I’m…I’m gonna…”

“Yes honey, let go.”

You pressed your face tightly to his neck, your knees hugging his hips tightly as your back bowed with the force your release, an anguished cry of pleasure wrenched from your throat as you clamped down tightly around him. His rich groan followed shortly after as he rocked tightly against you in the throes of his own climax. Pulling from you slowly, he carefully rolled to lay beside you, the pair of you grinning up at the ceiling stupidly for a moment before you rolled onto your side to kiss his cheek.

Collecting the used condom, despite his protests, you padded to the washroom to run through your night routine at last, gratefully sliding into the housecoat to turn out the lights before returning to find him waiting for you beneath the quilt. Dick immediately pulled you into his chest as you slid into the bed and kissed your forehead.

As his fingers pulled at the tie of your housecoat, however, you could not help but laugh. “Really?”

He chuckled in return, pressing a kiss to your jaw before his fingers darted beneath the warm fabric to find the scar on your side. “What happened?” He asked softly and your throat clenched at the concern in his voice.

“Bayonet.” You replied quietly, frowning as his eyes jerked up to meet yours in the low light of the bedside lamp you’d left on. “I was lucky, really.” You smiled fondly at his incredulous look. “He tried firing on me first, but his weapon jammed, and then he got so flustered he barely stuck me.” You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly as you spoke.

 “This looks like a little more than barely.” He countered flatly and you kissed him softly.

“I was furious. First mission and I made it all of four days before I got hurt.” You shook your head. “A sympathetic doctor stitched me up and then it was a long way back to England to heal.”

“So, I met you on your…” He prompted, thumb sweeping along your scarred flesh as though he might erase the mark with his touch.

“Second.” You nodded. “And last in a way. I’ll never be able to do those things again with my right ear the way it is…” You grimaced and it was his turn to kiss you reassuringly.

“You’ve done more than enough, honey, more than should have ever been asked of you. And yet you’re still here, in a uniform, helping all the same.”

Pressing your forehead to his you sighed fondly. “Thank you.”

“We should get some sleep.” He murmured, pulling you close into his chest so he could reach with a long arm to turn off the lamp behind you.

It proved difficult to leave his arms for the rest of his time in Paris, though you managed to see to it that you remained fed despite Dick’s efforts to tire you out completely. Not a single condom went to waste. As he lay sleeping in the late afternoon, you took the opportunity to write a letter for him to carry with him – not knowing where he would find himself next, nor when you’d have the chance to see him again. Seized by the radical idea to package it up with some small token, you pried the badge from your cap, hoping the three silver maple leaves would make him think of you. Folding the badge within the letter, you tucked it into the front pocket of his luggage, fully prepared to feign complete astonishment when its absence was noted by Major Wilkes, or whomever noticed first.

Early Tuesday morning, you delivered Dick to Gare du Nord to catch the first train back to Mourmelon-le-Grand, unable to ignore the way he crossed his arms against the chilly north wind that seemed to herald to arrival of winter. Glancing at the drab olive wool scarf dangling around your neck you bit your lip as you reached the platform before sliding it off. Grasping each end, as Dick turned to say goodbye, you carefully slung it over his shoulders.

“Keep warm, Dick.”

His eyes widened. “I can’t take this from you, you’ll freeze.”

“I can get a new one easily.” With your hands still on the ends of the scarf you pulled him in to kiss him softly. “Good luck out there.” You repeated your parting words from Normandy.

His hands rose to cup your cheeks one last time as his eyes traced over the features of your face as if to commit it to memory. “I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

You nodded quickly, all possible responses congealing into a lump in your throat that made it impossible to speak. The rumble of the approaching train shattered the intensity of the moment and he quickly pressed one final kiss to your forehead before reluctantly stepping back, turning only at the last moment to step into the carriage. You stood rooted to the spot, only able to inhale tiny sips of air lest you shatter into tears, until it disappeared out of sight.

-------------------------

Read Part Three

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Tag list: @allthingsimagines, @bcon24

[ginandoldlace]

The Royal Navy took part in a memorial event at Marazion in Cornwall yesterday evening to mark the 80th anniversary of Operation Market Garden and the Battle of Arnhem. Immortalised in the film A Bridge Too Far, Operation Market Garden was a major battle during the Second World War in occupied-Netherlands. It was an attempt to drive towards the Rhine and shorten the war. To remember the event and those who lost their lives, St Michael’s Mount was lit up in red as people gathered on the mainland opposite, on what proved to be a stunning evening. The event was organised by the Veterans Society and featured drummers from the HMS Seahawk Volunteer Band. Representing RNAS Culdrose, Commander Richie Turrell laid a wreath and observed a minute’s silence, alongside representatives from RAF St Mawgan, veterans and cadets from across Cornwall. Pictures kindly submitted by Ollie Turrell.

[viric-dreams]

Going to put a rough timeline together for Ockham:

1781:

Eduard Ackerman is born in Antwerp, in what was then the Austrian Netherlands, the second of what would be five children (and only one of two to survive to adulthood).

1792:

Antwerp falls under French control. Ackerman has since become the oldest living child.

1796:

Ackerman begins working on a merchant ship, involved in minor trade between nearby European ports, and sending money back to his family.

1804:

Whilst away, Ackerman receives a letter that the entire family is ill with cholera. Rather than try to gain passage back to Antwerp on another ship, he makes the decision to stay the course and return as planned, with pay for the full journey. By the time he returns, he learns his younger brother is the only one to have survived. This leads to a massive row between the two of them, in which his brother accused him of being callous and caring more about money than their own family. Ackerman argued that with the benefit of hindsight it would not have many any difference--even if he had taken the next boat back he wouldn't have arrived in time. And was it not his wages that was, in no insignificant part, supporting them all? His brother did not appreciate the logic of this argument, and it became the last time the two ever spoke.

1804-1812:

Ackerman continues work as a sailor, semi-consistently changing ships and never holding onto interpersonal relationships for long. In this time he has no fixed address, yet spent significant time in both Rotterdam and Hamburg.

Autumn 1812:

Whilst on shore leave in London, he's impressed into the Royal Navy.

1812-1814:

Ackerman serves against his will on a British warship, his desertion attempts unsuccessful. Shortly after conscription, the officers give him the nickname Ockham, seemingly unable or unwilling to pronounce his name correctly. He maintains sanity during this period with minor forms of rebellion.

Summer 1814:

His ship engages with a French vessel. Amidst the chaos and cannon fire he's thrown from the deck into the mirrored surface of the sea.

1814-1899:

Viric dreams under a cosmogone sun

1899 (Pt. 3):

Ockham wakes up in Fallen London during Whitsun of 1899.

Much has changed since hishertheir last memories of the place. Ockham tries hishertheir best to get back on hishertheir feet and adapt. Heshethey gets a job on the docks.

Things don't always seem to add up in the Neath. Acquaintances seem to struggle to understand Ockham, to remember details of their interactions, often yawning in boredom when Ockham's speaking. It only serves to worsen Ockham's already negative impression on Londoners, and the English specifically.

And then there are the dreams. Ockham dreams of a jungle, impossibly green. Heshethey lies on a cushioned bed of moss, soft as any cloud. Warm bodies surround himherthem, slithering and sliding across hishertheir limbs, like the sway of floating in a gentle sea. The mellow sounds of the jungle at rest are broken by the low drone of many conversations and it’s so easy to get lost in that hum. Sunlight trickles through the canopy of leaves, warming them all. The smell of saltwater hangs in the air, and the occasional call of gulls hint at a shore not far from here. This is peace. This is home.

Ockham learns of the existence of Parabola, the likely source of hishertheir recurring dreams (memories?) and vows to find it.

At some point in this saga, Ockham gets looped into killing the Vake. Sure, heshethey'll do it, if it enables hishertheir ultimate goal of crossing through the mirror.

Ockham becomes a silverer and begins exploring Parabola, searching for that clearing from hishertheir dreams. All the while, a familiar-looking figure seems to lurk just in the corners of hishertheir vision, never quite in catchable range.

1899 (Pt. 4)

Ockham continues the search for the location in hishertheir dreams. Heshethey decides to petition the Fingerkings for information. There's some sort of connection between them, Ockham can sense it. They seem, however, to be unusually elusive. Not a reptile in sight.

An unpleasant entanglement with The Thieving Stowaway (The Youthful Naturalist) results in Ockham zailing to Irem. There, heshethey finally corners a powerful Cacophony of serpents at the Market. Ockham tries to broker a deal with them, to take himherthem back to that place, or possibly back into their fold. That's why they have the connection, right? That's why some of Ockham's memories (dreams?) are so distinctly inhuman. The Fingerkings don't see it that way. They don't want Ockham. They have no use for himherthem. What would they do with a Parabolan reflection, especially when they already have the original. It's at this point that Ockham finally comes face to face with the familiar figure--the surface sailor whose face Ockham's mirrors. But appearances is where the resemblance ends. If there was once a person in there, any trace of life is long gone, an empty husk puppeted by the Cacophony. Whatever may have once been behind those eyes is gone now, leaving Ockham the sole steward of what used to be Ackerman, now woven together with a patchwork of Parabola.

Furious and frustrated, Ockham zails back to London, nearly drowning in the process during the harrowing voyage. Upon docking, heshethey sets hishertheir zub on fire, wrung out and thoroughly done with the Zee, and vowing never to step foot on a ship again.

Ockham spends the next several months coming to terms with the fact that heshethey're not human, but a creature of Parabola, imbued with the spirit and memories of what once was a person, and many of those of the Fingerkings.

Ockham bounces from job to job, untethered, slowly becoming involved in ventures in the Upper River.

Around this point, heshethey meets Tamara, and seeing someone so clearly lost and in need of a place to stay offers her a spare room in hishertheir flat.

This awkward but tentatively friendly relationship goes slightly pear-shaped upon Tamara discovering what Ockham is. They do manage to eventually mend it to an extent, and slowly begin to understand each other better, both figuratively and literally, as they both gain a common language.

Ockham is often away from London, busy in the Upper River and also Parabola. Heshethey begins a business selling Parabolan-grown ghost peppers to the Stags and rich Bohemians with more money than self-preservation skills.

All this draws to a violent end when the Cacophony makes their move, attempting to kill Ockham and break out of Parabola, something they couldn't do as long as Ockham was in the Is. They don't succeed, and Ockham manages to make it back to London, but it's no longer safe for himherthem to cross through the mirror.

Ockham needs to regroup and find a new profession.

[postcard-from-the-past]

HNLMS Holland protected cruiser of the Royal Netherlands Navy

Dutch vintage postcard

[mariacallous]

NATO will call for all 32 members to put in place civil defense plans in case of an Article 5-level attack at the alliance’s Washington summit, officials familiar with the plan told Foreign Policy.

“We’re going to push the idea in Washington that all allies should commit to having some kind of national planning process that brings together both the military planning and civilian planning for Article 5,” said one NATO official, speaking anonymously based on conditions set by the alliance.

The move is part of an ongoing effort within NATO to prepare for a possible future Russian attack on the alliance that members believe is likely to include long-range missile strikes, disinformation, disruption of ports, and assaults on the energy grid—similar to what the Ukrainians have faced during the country’s full-scale invasion.

The expectation is that countries may have to plan to fend for themselves while they wait for NATO’s political leaders to decide whether to invoke self-defense.

“You have to be capable of being defendable while waiting for Article 5 to come into play,” said Dalia Bankauskaite, a nonresident senior fellow at the Center for European Policy Analysis, a Washington-based think tank. “You have to be self-sufficient for self-defense within your territory with whatever resources you have.”

The notion that Europe has to prepare for war after NATO’s 75 mostly peaceful years of post-World War II life is slowly becoming the status quo in many allied governments as they grapple with a resurgent Russia that is picking itself up off the canvas from the initial beating it took in Ukraine far faster than anyone expected. But the alarm bells are coming as a shock to the global public square.

Swedish defense chief Gen. Micael Byden’s January statement that all Swedes should mentally prepare for conflict went viral on TikTok. Frightened children and teens flooded the telephone lines of Sweden’s largest child protection group. Then-British Army chief Gen. Patrick Sanders called on Britons to get ready for a level of mobilization not seen since World War II, forcing the press flacks at No. 10 Downing St. to clarify that they weren’t reinstating the draft. (Sanders also got a tongue-lashing from his boss.) German officials have even suggested that Russia could conduct missile attacks against NATO countries.

The reaction within NATO has been to call on member states to further link military planning and civil planning in the event of a regional war. “Deterrence is not only something for the minister of defense and the armed forces—it is a whole-of-society event,” said Royal Netherlands Navy Adm. Rob Bauer, the chair of NATO’s Military Committee. “Financial institutions have a role to play. Industry has a role to play. We need the right infrastructure in our nations to transport military equipment over roads, over bridges. A bridge has to be able to carry a tank.”

NATO countries need sufficient harbor facilities, airports, rail gauges, and energy infrastructure that are not dependent on a small handful of nations. The idea is for each country to have a plan for ensuring continuity of civil government, food, and fuel in the event of a crisis, NATO officials said.

NATO will also have to think about how to deconflict roads and transportation networks in a war if masses of people move west while tanks and logistics trains move east. Countries such as Estonia, Finland, Lithuania, Latvia, and Poland are coming up with plans to evacuate civilians at least 50 miles from the front lines of a conflict with Russia, Bankauskaite said.

The problem of preparedness for an alliance covering more than 10 million square miles and 970 million people—about 4 million of them in uniform—is sprawling. It doesn’t lend itself well to neatly drawn government organizational charts and jurisdictional boundaries; it’s somewhere between defense and homeland security.

But the idea that NATO members need to build up antibodies to resist an attack dates back to the alliance’s founding. Eight years ago, NATO leaders built on that foundation with seven planning requirements for resilience. And they added to that in the 2023 Vilnius summit communique, calling resilience a basis for credible deterrence and defense.

Still, there’s no 2 percent standard for resilience. Just as NATO nations have the ability to set their own defense budgets and structure their own militaries to fit their plans, officials said, member states are likely to be able to set their own requirements for civil defense. The standards will vary from country to country.

“It doesn’t have to be the same, because each country is different,” said one Nordic official involved in the planning. “But everybody should have a minimum level of resilience.”

NATO also has a pool of civil experts to build capacity for resilience in countries that are less prepared. The European Union also has pre-positioned medical stockpiles and supplies of equipment to protect civilians from chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear threats.

Some think that the urgency is still being driven by the United States putting more and more troops in Europe to reinforce NATO soil against Russia. “Since the beginning of this war, the U.S. presence in Europe has steadily gained,” said retired U.S. Air Force Gen. Philip Breedlove, a former NATO supreme allied commander and head of U.S. European Command. “What we see today are further refinements and continued efforts toward getting more ready.”

Historically, the Nordic countries have set the pace for NATO, and many of the new alliance members in the region are already out in front. Newly minted NATO member Sweden has a so-called “total defense” plan that calls on every citizen between the ages of 16 and 70 to help the nation prepare for war, whether through military conscription or assisting with emergency services. Stockholm is set to update the plans this year. They’ve been learning from the Ukrainians: Swedish Civil Defense Minister Carl-Oskar Bohlin has made multiple visits to Kyiv since the Russian invasion began.

Sweden, which already regularly issues a pamphlet to all 10 million citizens with checklists for how to prepare for a terrorist attack or war, plans to update it later this year. “It will reflect the more dire security situation that we are finding ourselves in now,” Bohlin said. There is even consideration about whether to invoke civil conscription for the rescue services.

Finland, which has universal male conscription, can mobilize 300,000 reservists to fight with a snap of its fingers. The Finns also have a rule of thumb to stockpile enough food, water, and medicine to last 72 hours. Helsinki has increased stockpiling requirements for petroleum by businesses and government entities to a five-month supply. Even the mindset in Finland is changing toward a more wartime economy, the Nordic official said.

Countries have also begun dusting off and tallying up their Cold War-era bomb shelters. Sweden has 65,000 shelters, enough for about 7 million people. Finland has 50,500 shelters, with space for about 90 percent of Finns. Norway has some 20,000, enough for about half the population.

The Baltic countries took up “total defense” plans after the Kremlin’s annexation of Crimea and invasion of the Donbas in 2014. Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania are building a 600-mile line of defense installations along their borders with Russia. Latvia has reinstated a military draft.

These are necessary measures, Baltic officials said, with Russia already conducting low-level hybrid warfare activities on NATO soil, from vandalism to beatings of dissidents in Eastern Europe.

“We know for a fact that there is an active kinetic activity happening in the Baltic states, in the wider region, today,” Gabrielius Landsbergis, Lithuania’s top diplomat, said at an event in March at the National Press Club in Washington. “Russia is able to have people for hire that would in some cases vandalize buildings, tear down the flags—such things that have happened in Lithuania—and attack people.”

The call for new civil defense requirements is a window into how European societies are changing—and how they will need to change—in light of Russia’s growing military threat. Russia has fired missiles at Ukraine’s electrical grid, kidnapped Ukrainian children, and attacked the transit corridors for much of the world’s grain. NATO is preparing for Russian President Vladimir Putin to use the same playbook in an Article 5-level assault on the allies.

“It’s not only about military effects,” said Bauer, the NATO military chief. “It’s also about hybrid warfare. It’s about energy. It’s about migration. It’s about food. All these things have been used by Putin [and] will be used again by Putin.”

A new reality of preparing for war could have expansive ripple effects on civilian life after seven decades of mostly peaceful times on the continent. But NATO nations will need a plan to deal with Russia’s efforts to target civilians—through attacks on critical infrastructure and buildings, neighborhoods, and schools as well as through disinformation that has been on display in two years of full-scale war in Ukraine.

NATO militaries have become adept at dealing with small numbers of wounded soldiers in the past two decades, as most of the alliance fought in Afghanistan. But in an Article 5-level war, there might be mass military and civilian casualties all at once, and hospitals may need to run around the clock.

The logic goes that the quicker NATO countries can prepare, the readier they will be for massive numbers of troops to flow in. Especially in NATO’s front-line states, where nations are on heightened alert about Russia’s hybrid threats, there’s a desire to start pushing back.

“They are pushing the line,” said Landsbergis, the Lithuanian foreign minister. “They are testing us. And I’m sure that somewhere down the line, we will have to start pushing back

[conradscrime]

The Disappearance of Amy Lynn Bradley

August 19, 2024

Amy Lynn Bradley was born on May 12, 1974 in Petersburg, Virginia. At the time of her disappearance, Amy was a 23 year old graduate of Longwood University, having completed a degree in Physical Education. Amy attended university with a scholarship in basketball, and was a strong swimmer, previously having worked as a lifeguard.

Amy was about to begin a job at a computer consulting firm. She decided to go on a cruise with her family on the Royal Caribbean International cruise ship, Rhapsody of the Seas, as a celebration for herself.

The cruise ship was going to Curaçao, an island under the Kingdom of the Netherlands. On March 21, 1998, Amy and her family boarded the cruise. Before disappearing, assumingly on March 23, Amy and her brother Brad had been drinking late and dancing at a Mardi Gras nightclub party on the ship. They had been drinking with the ship's band, Blue Orchid. One band member, a man named Alister Douglas, also known as Yellow, had been drinking with Amy.

Alister claimed that he had left the party around 1 am. There had been a videographer there as well, Chris Fenwick, who had gotten a moment on film of Amy and Alister dancing.

Brad decided to go back to their cabin around 3:35 am. The ship's lock system had recorded that Brad returned to the family's cabin at this time. Amy followed him 5 minutes later. Brad claimed that him and Amy had sat on the suite's balcony talking before going to bed. He said Amy stayed awake longer before she went to sleep.

On March 24, 1998, between 5:15-5:30 am, Amy's father Ron woke up and went to check on his children. He saw Amy sleeping on a lounge chair of the cabin balcony. Ron claimed that he could see Amy's legs from her hips down, but he had dozed back off to sleep. When he got up again at 6am, Amy was missing along with her cigarettes and lighter.

Ron said he went to find her but couldn't. He said it was unlike Amy to just leave and not tell anyone where she was going. Ron searched the common areas of the cruise, and woke up the rest of the family. Amy was considered missing at 6:30am.

Amy's family reported her missing to the crew onboard, and pleaded with them to keep the 2000 other passengers from leaving the cruise ship and to make an announcement to help find Amy. However, they were told it was too early to make ship-wide announcement. After a majority of passengers disembarked the ship, an announcement was made at 7:50am.

Between 12:15pm and 1pm, the cruise staff searched through the ship but there was no sign of Amy. There was a 4 day search conducted by the Dutch Caribbean Coast Guard that ended on March 27, 1998. The Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines chartered a boat to continue to look for Amy. Helicopters and a radar plane were used in the search.

Authorities originally believed that Amy had either fallen overboard or died by suicide. This speculation was soon discredited as Amy was considered a strong swimmer and her body has never been found. There is no evidence of foul play.

There have been many supposed sightings of Amy since she went missing.

On the morning of Amy's disappearance, two passengers told Ron that they saw a woman who looked like Amy taking an elevator to the ship's deck with cigarettes and a lighter. This information has never lead to anything however.

There was a cab driver who said he had seen a woman matching Amy's description. The driver said the woman approached him and said she urgently needed a phone. This sighting has never been truly confirmed.

In August 1998, 5 months after her disappearance, a Canadian computer engineer claimed to have seen Amy walking with two men on a beach in Curaçao. The witness said the woman was constantly trying to get his attention, but he lost sight of her at a nearby cafe. The woman's tattoos were supposedly identical to the one's Amy had. The man claimed he had been 2 feet away from her and was certain it was her.

In January 1999, a US Navy petty officer claimed to have seen a woman at a brothel in Curaçao who claimed to be Amy Bradley. He said the woman begged him for help, saying she was being held against her will and was not allowed to leave. The man did not report the incident initially because he was afraid of his career in the Navy knowing he had been in a brothel.

He only contacted Amy's family after he had retired and saw her photo in a magazine. There's no evidence supporting this claim.

In March 2005, a witness named Judy Maurer claimed to have seen Amy in a department store bathroom in Barbados. She saw the woman enter the bathroom accompanied by three men who threatened her if she did not follow through on a deal. Judy said after the men left she approached the woman, who told her her first name was Amy and that she was from Virginia. The men then came back in and took her away.

There was a composite sketch of the three men and the woman based on Judy's account.

In the fall of 1999, Amy's parents got an email from a self-proclaimed Navy Seal Solider named Frank Jones. Frank told them that he was a former special officer who might be able to rescue Amy. He said his team had seen Amy being held by Colombian personnel in a housing complex surrounded by barbed wire. They gave an accurate description of Amy's tattoos and sang the lullaby that Amy's mother used to sing for her.

Over months, Frank would give the Bradley family news and provide reports on sightings of Amy. Frank told them they would attempt a rescue, but he needed more money. The Bradley's sent him a total of $210,000, with the National Missing Children's Organization helping them. They never received a call from Frank again.

In February 2002, Frank was prosecuted and charged with defrauding the Bradley's. Frank pleaded guilty in April and was sentenced to 5 years in prison.

There was a jawbone found in Aruba in 2010 that had washed ashore. This was initially thought to be the jawbone of Natalee Holloway, a woman who had gone missing from Aruba on a class trip in 2005. Once it was determined to not be that of Natalee, authorities ceased any other testing, despite others who had gone missing in the Caribbean. It was said that the bone is human and was likely Caucasian.

Amy's parents appeared on an episode of Dr. Phil on November 17, 2005. There was an image of a young woman who looked like Amy that had been emailed to the Bradley's was shown on the show. It suggested that Amy could have been sold in sex trafficking. There were two photos sent to the Bradley's via email, the woman in the photos resembled Amy. These photos were observed by an organization that tries to track victims of sex trafficking on sites that feature sex workers. The woman in the photo looks "distraught and despondent". Her name was apparently Jas.

There are many theories about what happened to Amy Bradley. Some believe she was sold into human trafficking in the Caribbean. There was inconsistencies of the story that Alister, the band member told versus what the CCTV footage shows. Many people also think a waiter was involved.

Throughout the night, Amy's family was approached by the same waiter who asked them to pass a note to Amy from him asking her to go drinking with him once they got to shore. There was a professional photographer that had printed out photos of the cruise, but there was no photos of Amy, making people believe someone had purposely removed them.

Authorities also considered that Amy had been murdered on the ship and thrown overboard. There's no real evidence suggesting this besides the jawbone that washed ashore in Aruba.

Amy was legally declared dead on March 24, 2010, 12 years after she had gone missing.

The FBI currently is offering a reward of up to $25,000 for anyone who has information that could potentially lead to the recovery of Amy or leads to an arrest or conviction of the person(s) responsible for Amy's disappearance. Amy's family, on top of this, is awarding $250,000 for information leading to her safe return and $50,000 for information leading to her current location.

There was renewned attention given to Amy's disappearance after Natalee Holloway went missing in 2005.

[eaglesnick]

“A generation which ignores history has no past -- and no future.”  

The National Centre for Social Research Centre's Social Attitude survey, finding that there has been a sharp decline in British national pride in the last decade has driven the pundits and politicians on the right into displays of righteous indignation. 

Peoples pride in being British has fallen from 83% in 1995 to 64% in 2023. Only 53% think democracy works well in this country, down from 60% in 1995, and only 49% would rather be a British citizen than any other country, a decline of 20% since 1995. What has particularly agitated those on the right is the finding that pride in British history has dropped from 86% in 2013, to 64% in 2023.

Nigel Forage, never one to miss an opportunity for self-promotion, went on a “blistering rant" concerning the decline of national pride in British history, claiming he has been “railing against" an education establishment that is constantly  "talking down Britain’s past”.

What’s happened claims Forage is there has been a “Marxist take-over, of people that hate the country, hate what it stands for, and they have done their job” Primary school teachers, secondary school teachers and university lectures all “rejoice” in putting Britain down.

Who would have thought it? That seemingly lovely Mrs Jones, who does so much for the infants in her care, a revolutionary Marxist. The dusty secondary school history teacher Mr Smith, also a Marxist, just waiting to advance the communist revolution on the streets of Britain. Unbelievable! And as for all of those university academics…just don’t get me started.

What a load of utter piffle Mr Farage. But he knows that. What he is doing is dog whistling as usual.

Taking the teaching of slavery as an example , Forage condemns the educational establishment for teaching that Britain was “the only country in the history of mankind that had ever conducted slavery.” What’s more says Forage, Britain  "far from being the one nation, actually, that ended it,..lost a lot of money and a lot of lives driving it out."

Lets examine these claims.

First, no one has ever said that Britain was the only slave-trading nation. Portugal, France, Spain, Netherlands, USA and Denmark ALL profited from slaves.

Second, Forage was right in asserting that  Britain was one of the first major European powers to officially abolish slavery. The Abolition of Slavery Act was passed inn 1833 but not all British owned slaves were covered by this act as it specifically excluded many slave colonies owned by the East India Company and British slaves on the islands of Ceylon and St Helena.

Third, British sailors did die fighting the slave trade but nowhere near as many as has been claimed on social media. Fullfact.org, state that the figure of between 17,000 and 20,00 Royal Navy sailors dying fighting illegal slave traders is untrue, the figure being much nearer 2000.

Forth, did driving out slavery cost a lot of money? Yes it did, but none of the money went to the slaves themselves, only to the slave owners as compensation for their losses.

Despite the repugnant and morally corrupt practice of slave ownership that the 1833 Abolition of Slavery Act represented, a mere four years after this law came into being another piece of slavery legislation was enacted: the Slave Compensation Act 1887.

This is something Forage and those other millionaires and billionaires on the right of British politics often neglect to tell us. Despite the repugnant and utterly immoral practice of slave ownership implicit in the Abolition of Slavery Act 1833, this new act ordered the Commissioners for the Reduction of the National Debt to compensate slave owners in the British colonies to the tune of £20 million pound – around £17billion pounds today. This payout was a massive 40% of total government budget.

What else Forage neglects to say is that the last compensation payment for loss of slaves paid for by the British government was in 2015.

In short, we the British taxpayer, have been paying compensation to slave owners and their dependents for "loss of their property” for the past 182 years!

I only wish we did teach these things in our schools but we don’t. In fact, the Conservative government, in its Education Act of 1996 made the promoting of partisan views by teachers illegal.

So much for Marxist conspiracy theories!

[misterivy]

In MEMORY of RUTGER HAUER on his BIRTHDAY - (January 23, 1944 - July 19, 2019)

Career years: 1969 - his death

Born Rutger Oelsen Hauer, Dutch actor. In 1999, he was named by the Dutch public as the Best Dutch Actor of the Century.

Hauer's career began in 1969 with the title role in the Dutch television series Floris and surged with his leading role in Turkish Delight (1973), which in 1999 was named the Best Dutch Film of the Century. After gaining international recognition with Soldier of Orange (1977) and Spetters (1980), he moved into American films such as Nighthawks (1981) and Blade Runner (1982), starring in the latter as self-aware replicant Roy Batty. His performance in Blade Runner led to roles in The Osterman Weekend (1983), Ladyhawke (1985), The Hitcher (1986), The Legend of the Holy Drinker (1988), and Blind Fury (1989), among other films.

From the 1990s on, Hauer moved into low-budget films, and supporting roles in major films like Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992), Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (2002), Batman Begins (2005), Sin City (2005), and The Rite (2011). Hauer also became well known for his work in commercials. Towards the end of his career, he made a return to Dutch cinema, and won the 2012 Rembrandt Award for Best Actor in recognition of his lead role in The Heineken Kidnapping (2011).

Hauer supported environmentalist causes and was a member of the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society. He also founded the Rutger Hauer Starfish Association, an AIDS awareness organization. He was made a knight in the Order of the Netherlands Lion in 2013.

Early life -

Hauer was born in Breukelen, in the Province of Utrecht, while the Netherlands was under German occupation during World War II. He stated in a 1981 interview, "I was born in the middle of the war, and I think for that reason I have deep roots in pacifism. Violence frightens me." His parents were Teunke (née Mellema) and Arend Hauer, both actors who operated an acting school in nearby Amsterdam. He had three sisters. According to Hauer, his parents were more interested in their art than their children. He did not have a close relationship with his father, and writer Erik Hazelhoff Roelfzema later became a father figure to Hauer after they met during the filming of Soldier of Orange.

Hauer attended a Rudolf Steiner school, as his parents wanted him to develop his creativity. At the age of 15, he left school to join the Dutch merchant navy. He spent a year travelling the world aboard a freighter, but was unable to become a captain due to his colourblindness. Returning home, he worked odd jobs while finishing his high school diploma at night. He then entered the Academy for Theater and Dance in Amsterdam for acting classes, but soon dropped out to join the Royal Netherlands Army. He received training as a combat medic, but left the service after a few months as he opposed the use of deadly weapons. He subsequently returned to acting school and graduated in 1967.

Career:

Early works -

Hauer had his first acting role at the age of 11, as Eurysakes in the play Ajax. After graduating from the Academy for Theater and Dance, he became a stage actor with the Toneelgroep Noorder Compagnie. Hauer made his screen debut in 1969 when Paul Verhoeven cast him in the lead role of the television series Floris, a Dutch medieval action drama. The role made him famous in his native country, and Hauer reprised his role for the 1975 German remake Floris von Rosemund.

Hauer's career changed course when Verhoeven cast him in Turkish Delight (1973), which received an Oscar nomination for best foreign-language film. The film found box office favour abroad and at home, and Hauer looked to appear in more international films. Within two years, Hauer made his English-language debut in the British film The Wilby Conspiracy (1975). Set in South Africa, the film was an action-drama with a focus on apartheid. Hauer's supporting role, however, was barely noticed in Hollywood, and he returned to Dutch films for several years. During this period, he made Katie Tippel (1975) and worked again with Verhoeven on Soldier of Orange (1977), and Spetters (1980). These two films paired Hauer with fellow Dutch actor Jeroen Krabbé. At the 1981 Netherlands Film Festival, Hauer received the Golden Calf for Best Actor for his overall body of work.

American breakthrough -

Hauer made his American debut in the Sylvester Stallone film Nighthawks (1981) as a psychopathic and cold-blooded terrorist named Wulfgar. With his sights set on a long-term career in Hollywood, Hauer worked with an accent coach in the early 1980s to develop a convincing American accent. Unafraid of controversial roles, he portrayed Albert Speer in the 1982 American Broadcasting Company production Inside the Third Reich. The same year, Hauer appeared in arguably his most famous and acclaimed role as the eccentric and violent but sympathetic antihero Roy Batty in Ridley Scott's 1982 science fiction thriller Blade Runner, in which he delivered the famous tears in rain monologue. Hauer composed parts of the monologue the evening prior to filming, "cutting away swathes of the original script before adding the speech’s poignant final line". He went on to play the adventurer courting Theresa Russell in Eureka (1983), investigative reporter opposite John Hurt in The Osterman Weekend (1983), hardened mercenary Martin in Flesh & Blood (1985), and knight paired with Michelle Pfeiffer in Ladyhawke (1985).

He appeared in The Hitcher (1986), in which he played a mysterious hitchhiker tormenting a lone motorist and murdering anyone in his way. He received the 1987 Golden Globe Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role in the television film Escape from Sobibor. At the height of Hauer's fame, he was set to be cast as RoboCop (1987), but Verhoeven, the film's director, considered his frame as too large to move comfortably in the character's suit. Also in 1987, Hauer starred as Nick Randall in Wanted: Dead or Alive as the descendant of the character played by Steve McQueen in the television series of the same name.

In 1988, he played a homeless man in Ermanno Olmi's The Legend of the Holy Drinker. This performance won Hauer the Best Actor award at the 1989 Seattle International Film Festival. Hauer was chosen to portray a blind martial artist superhero in Phillip Noyce's action film Blind Fury (1989). He initially struggled with the implausibility of the character, but learned to "unfocus my eyes, to react to smells and sounds" after meeting with blind judo practitioner Lynn Manning during his research for the role. Hauer returned to science fiction in 1989 with The Blood of Heroes, in which he played a gladiator in a post-apocalyptic world.

Commercials and later roles -

By the 1990s, Hauer was well known for his humorous Guinness commercials as well as his screen roles, which had increasingly involved low-budget films, such as Split Second (1992); The Beans of Egypt, Maine (1994); Omega Doom (1996) and New World Disorder (1999). In 1992, he appeared in the horror-comedy film Buffy the Vampire Slayer as the main antagonist vampire Lothos. He also appeared in the Kylie Minogue music video "On a Night Like This" (2000). During this time, Hauer acted in several British, Canadian and American television productions, including Amelia Earhart: The Final Flight (1994) as Earhart's navigator Fred Noonan, Fatherland (1994), Hostile Waters (1997), The Call of the Wild: Dog of the Yukon (1997), Merlin (1998), The 10th Kingdom (2000), Smallville (2003), Alias (2003), and Salem's Lot (2004).

Hauer played an assassin in Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (2003), a villainous cardinal with influential power in Sin City (2005) and a devious corporate executive running Wayne Enterprises in Batman Begins (2005). Also in 2005, he played the title role in Patrick Lussier's film Dracula III: Legacy. Seven years later, he portrayed the vampire hunter Abraham Van Helsing in Dario Argento's Dracula 3D. Hauer hosted the British reality television documentary Shock Treatment in 2005, and featured in Goal II: Living the Dream (2007) as Real Madrid coach Rudi Van der Merwe. He also recorded voice-overs for the British advertising campaign for the Danish butter brand Lurpak.

In 2008, Hauer received the Golden Calf Culture Prize for his contributions to Dutch cinema. The award recognised his work as an actor as well as his efforts to aid the development of young filmmakers and actors, through initiatives such as the Rutger Hauer Film Factory. In 2009, his role in avant-garde filmmaker Cyrus Frisch's Dazzle received positive reviews; it was described in Dutch press as "the most relevant Dutch film of the year". The same year, Hauer starred in the title role of Barbarossa, an Italian film directed by Renzo Martinelli. In April 2010, he was cast in the live action adaptation of the short and fictitious Grindhouse trailer Hobo with a Shotgun (2011). Hauer played Freddie Heineken in The Heineken Kidnapping (2011), for which he received the 2012 Rembrandt Award for Best Actor. Also in 2011, Hauer appeared in the supernatural horror film The Rite as an undertaker named Istvan, the protagonist's father.

From 2013 to 2014, Hauer featured as Niall Brigant in HBO's True Blood. In 2015, he starred as Ravn in The Last Kingdom and as Kingsley in Galavant. In 2016, he joined the film jury for ShortCutz Amsterdam, an annual film festival promoting short films in Amsterdam. Hauer voiced the role of Daniel Lazarski in the 2017 video game Observer, set in post-apocalyptic Poland. Lazarski is a member of a special elite police unit that can hack into minds and interact with memories within. Hauer also provided the voice of Xehanort in the 2019 video game Kingdom Hearts III, replacing the late Leonard Nimoy and was himself replaced by Christopher Lloyd following his death.

Personal life -

Hauer was married twice:

Hauer and his first wife, Heidi Merz, produced Hauer’s only child, Aysha Hauer (born 1966). An actress, she gave birth to Hauer's grandson in 1987.

Hauer was with his second wife, Ineke ten Cate, from 1968, and they married in a private ceremony on 22 November 1985. Cate was the daughter of Laurens ten Cate, the editor-in-chief of the Friesland-based newspaper Leeuwarder Courant.

Although born in Utrecht, Hauer had strong links to Friesland. He once stated in an interview with the Algemeen Dagblad that he "needed to feel the Frisian clay under his feet".

Hauer was an environmentalist. He supported the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society and was a member of its board of advisors. He also established an AIDS awareness organization called the Rutger Hauer Starfish Association.

In April 2007, he published his autobiography, All Those Moments: Stories of Heroes, Villains, Replicants, and Blade Runners (co-written with Patrick Quinlan), in which he discussed many of his acting roles. Proceeds from the book go to the Rutger Hauer Starfish Association.

Death -

Hauer died at his home in Beetsterzwaag, following a short illness. He was 75 years old. A private funeral service was held on 24 July. On 23 January 2020, which would have been Hauer's 76th birthday, a ceremony was held in Beetsterzwaag in his honour. Attendees included Sharon Stone, Miranda Richardson, Diederik van Rooijen, and Prince Pieter-Christiaan of Orange-Nassau, van Vollenhoven.

[ltwilliammowett]

Two Midshipmen dirks with two gorgets, Royal Netherlands Navy, late 19th century

The first dirk belonged to Theodoor H.H. Bodele, commissioned as an ensign in 1895. The second belonged to Baron Elisa C.U. Calkoen, who never received a commission and left the naval college in 1888 as a naval cadet, 2nd class