28th March 1942,

Somewhere in the Atlantic,

Onboard CVN-73 USS George Washington.

While getting situated, Prime Minister Winston Churchill was currently being led to the bridge. He was able to get a good view of the ship from their V-22 Osprey, it being the largest ship he had ever seen. His aides spoke in hushed whispers over the scale of the ship, managing to still launch and retrieve planes even as their own craft had touched down to land.

Being a veteran sailor himself, he had always prioritized naval funding before the various other departments. While an army and air force is important for the defense of the Empire, the Empire and the home islands survival is based on the control of the seas.

Just as in the last war, the Axis wolf-pack strategy has been working. The only reason the home islands have lasted this long has been the bravery and commitment of the Royal Navy. But even then, the shocking German technological advantage degraded the fleet with weapons that they had no counter to.

As he passed through the halls of the supercarrier, there was part of him that was glad to see the familiarity in ship designs. Even with all the advanced technology, it is pleasing to him that there are some similarities between both people and time. It made them feel less…. Alien.

Churchill was still getting over the shock of seeing women serving onboard the vessel. Such an idea would have been considered unthinkable as war has traditionally always been an affair between men.

First on the helicopter, then seeing another getting into a fighter jet, and finally, the one who had been escorting him around the ship, Lieutenant Junior Grade Ashley Coral.

The role of women had always been in the home. Either with the children or in the management of the home, only recently taking up jobs in arms factories to free up manpower for the front lines. The thought of women serving on the front line would have meant that either the men were unable to fight, or the enemy was quite literally right on their front doorstep. For women to be so prevalent in service would normally be a sign of utter desperation, such as the current state of the Soviet Union.

Forced to conscript every man, woman, and child to stop the Axis war machine, only recently finding some measure of success with the ongoing siege of Stalingrad. Judging by the state of affairs on the ship, having women serve in combat roles had become the norm.

Not that Churchill disliked women, he found Coral to be a charming, young, and beautiful woman. To his surprise, she had been very informative and quick to answer any questions, and has been very respectful to the etiquette due to his station.

“I have to admit, Lieutenant Coral, I am surprised to see a woman on a warship. I have been impressed by your skill set and professionalism.” he told her as they traverse down the gray, monotonous corridors of the titanic ship.

“My father was in the Navy, same with my grandfather,” Coral explained. “The sea always had a calling for me. It runs in the family.”

“Interesting,” he said. “Following the family tradition. That is something I can respect.” He said with a smile.

As the two conversed about the naval history of Coral family legacy, he entered the ship's bridge. Unlike current warships, this future behemoth featured dozens of screens, with dozens of sailors meaning their stations near each one.

He had no clue what most of them were used for, a navigation and plotting board he’d pegged easily enough, but the sheer amount of them was baffling. There are still windows to allow the officers to glimpse outside the ship and see the flat deck, but the advanced technology even on this small scale is impressive, clearly surpassing the Axis.

“This way, Prime Minister,” Coral said.

After thanking her for the tour and sharing her family story, Churchill entered the bridge. Around another screen that is shaped like a table, he saw Rear Admiral Tin Barker. With him, he saw a familiar face, Rear Admiral Griffin of the US Navy.

Griffin led the American Task Force 72, which assists in the defense of England against the Kriegsmarine. With the recent changes on the American side, many of the current joint operations have been in limbo as the new chain of command had yet to be fully established.

“Admiral Griffin, it is a pleasure to see you here,” Churchill said, shaking the man's hand. “Likewise, Prime Minister,” Griffin replies. “Barker here requested my presence to help coordinate both present and future fleets, as our tactics and communications are different.”

“Basically having to learn how to crawl again,” Barker adds, with a touch of humor. Seeing the future American admiral approaching, the two shook hands.

“Thank you for letting me come aboard Admiral. You have a fine vessel. Lieutenant Coral said it is a ship of the Nimitz-class. I bet that admiral will be pleased.” Churchill greets with a smile.

“Maybe,” Barker said. “Just means he has a legacy to live up to now.” He said with jest.

Enjoying the joke, Churchill approaches the digital table, displaying the world map. Coral followed him and began to explain how the map worked. While it might not be fully appropriate to demand answers of current events, he had no intention of wasting time.

“Now, tell me what has been going on. I know your people recently launched Operation Critical Strike, and I see that military naming conventions are still as uninspired as they are in the future.” He chuckles.

Barker moved to the other side of the digital table. “Some traditions are too dear, mister Prime Minister.” He then pointed to the screen, showing the east coast of the United States.

“As of right now, we have secured most of the east coast and the Gulf of Mexico” leaning over and highlighting locations where ships had engaged and sunk German vessels with attached after action reports.

“How many have you sunk?” Churchill questions.

“So far? Seventeen U-boats. We’re also actively tracking what we believe to be the German heavy cruiser Deustland,” Barker informs. “Once we secure our borders, the next stage will be securing the Mid-Atlantic.” Barker points.

“The main issue has been coordination,” Griffin looks at Churchill as he leans against the table. Face illuminated by the screen.

“Griffin’s fleet tactics are different from ours because of the technological discrepancy. In addition, we don’t have the numbers like you do,” Barker signs.

“We have been testing out a new strategy, deploying one of our destroyers or freigates into battle groups with three to four Pres-ships. Usually a pres-destroyer led by a pres-cruiser.”

“Pres-ships?” Churchill looks at Barker, confused.

Coral stepped forward and answered. “Pres-ships, meaning present-ships. Like the Rear Admiral Griffin era of warships. For our era of warships, we have been calling them Adav-ships, meaning advance-ships. The idea behind them is to help separate the two different fleets so we know what ship is what and what cabilibities they are.”

“It always fascinates me how war brings innovation,” Churchill said. “Thank you.” He nods.

“It was Coral's idea,” Barker praises. “Right now, we are putting all this into the test.”

Looking at the digital map, Churchill saw the fleet formations. The light-blue areas are in real time from satellites in orbit. The dark blue are gaps in the satellite grid, being last known information.

With another shock of the technology differences, the Americans and the assumed rebel Indians had achieved satellite technologies. MI-5 has created reports of the Germans developing such technology and predict that they will launch their first one in four to five years.

The fact that it is already normalized by these people only makes him wonder what other advances have been made. Either way, the new technology will turn the tide of the war, assuming it is not too late. “I assume this is why you prioritize your nation's coastline,” Churchill points at the east coast.

“If we cannot defend our borders, how are we supposed to defend your’s, Prime Minister?” Barker looks at him. “We must figure out how to deploy ourselves now, before we tackle the bigger battles.”

“Interesting,” Churchill rubs his chin. “I do expect that the Admiralty will be informed, but I refused to accept a secondary role.” He places his hands back on the table, face glowing blue from the display as he looks at them.

“I figured,” Barker said.

A sailor approached and whispered to Barker. Followed by the Rear Admiral nodding.

“What is it, Barker?” Churchill inquires.

“I am sorry, Prime Minister. But radar picked up thirty-two Luftwaffes. Ten bombers and rest fighter escorts”.

Churchill tilts his head, confused by Baker’s calm attitude. “You don’t seem worried?”. When he glanced around, no one seemed to be worried by the fact that the Luftwaffe areu approaching. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for battle?”

“No need to rush,” Barker yawns. “They are still 110 nautical miles away and our close air patrols are already moving to intercept.” Hearing what Barker said was displeasing. Glancing over to Rear Admiral Griffin, Churchill noticed the same reaction, which confuses him. Not to insult Barker’s naval intelligence, but he assumes that man has much experience of warfare in his time, but clearly does not yet fully understand the warfare of this time.

“With respect, Barker, the Germans have missiles like you do,” Griffin informs worryingly. “Both Air-to-surface and air-to-air.”

It took Barker a moment to react to what Griffen said, almost like he refused to believe it. “Our reports state your current era of technology is close to our tech level from the early 1950s. Missiles were barely off the drawing board.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that but this is our reality,” Churchill states.

“This is how the Germans have been able to wreak havoc against our shipping lanes and air forces. We are usually picked off before each engagement,” Griffin said.

Barker took a frustrated breath, realizing his mistake. “Admiral, tell the Pres-ship Chesapeake Bay to launch their alert fighters. I want them to provide rear guard for my Super Hornets. This time travel shit is a pain in the ass.”

Looking at the digital map, Churchill sees the Chesapeake Bay, a Pres-American Midway-class carrier. It looks like a few pres-ships were assisting in the escort of this carrier battle group.

---[-]---

In the Skies above the American Fleet.

Peter Fletcher, Wing commander of Tombstone, patrolled the skies over the USS George Washington, in his F/A-18 Super Hornet along with three other fighter jets providing CAP, combat air patrol, over the region.

“Tombstone 1-6 to Hawk 0-2, What’s the latest?”

Ten German Naval bombers, along with twenty two fighter escorts on a mission to attack the american fleet, and possible to eliminate the precious cargo onboard, Winston Churchill.

“Hawk 0-2 to Tombstone 1-6, we have a group of inbounds approaching on vector two-three-one at angel 5-4, speed three-two-five.” The AWACS commander guided the jets towards the German wave. The four hornets of Tombstone flight ignited their afterburners and turned towards the enemy.

The Germans were coming in loaded. Ten TSR naval jet bombers with Anti-ship missile to attack the capital ship, with the reminder Ho.229 V6 fighters, armed with two Infrared and two radar guided missiles, with its technology equivalent to the later 1960s.

“Alright boys, Master arm on. Range is 70 miles and closing, fire at will!”

Two AMRAAMs fell from the pylons of the four F/A-18s and lit their burners. Eight AIM-120C missiles arched towards the sky in guided trajectory while on track-while-scan mode, with nearly twenty eight nautical miles distancing the two sides.

The missiles streaked into the air towards their targets over the course of slightly under two minutes, turning their active radar on to lock on the enemy aircraft once they were in the terminal phase.

The Germans were taken by complete surprise and barely had six seconds to react as their Radar Warning System began to whine in the pilot's ear with almost no warning.

The German aircraft formation barely managed to begin immediate evasive maneuvers, as the American air-to-air missile claimed their victims. The payload of forty pounds, or eighten kilometers of High explosive blast-fragmentation ripped through the airframes of the victims.

Seven german bombers and three fighters were swatted out of the sky by the first salvo of missiles. The Germans start frantically diving for the deck, while the bombers disperse and try to evade the unseen attackers. Another Salvo of missiles followed shortly afterwards, this time contrails could be seen by the German fighters, who began to try to get a launch off at the Americans who for some reason were more stronger than they were.

Another eight missiles were guided by the Hornets who were now on active emissions. Seven of those missiles were guided at the bombers, while one went downwards to eliminate the lead Ho.229.

The german pilots onboard the bombers were pulling extremely high G-Forces to ensure the survival of themselves. Their RWRs were screeching at them, warning them about the incoming doom.

They understood that their RWRs were more or less useless, as they saw the missiles coming for them. Five of the remaining fourteen fighters attempted to fire their radar guided missiles.

It was unlikely they would be able to hit their targets from the distance they were at, yet they had to try to force a distraction at the enemy who were in discriminating taking them out.

Turning active, they fired 1 missile each at the four American fighters, having to keep their nose towards the Americans to ensure the missile is guided towards the intended target.

“Thats’ a radar spike, hehe they are trying to shoot us, those dumb krauts think they can hit us.” One of the other tombstone pilots chucked after seeing his RWR register a radar spike.

“Quiet down Tombstone 1-2, treat the Germans as peer adversaries, fire salvo at them.” The Flight-lead scolded the pilot as the german missiles struggled to climb to the altitude they were at.

A retaliatory salvo of AMRAAMs were fired at the germans. The Hornets turned cold and began evasive to ensure the German missiles did not get lucky.

For the Germans however, their luck was bad. They could see the launch pumes of the Americans missiles, and they began evasive. For the five who were busy directing their missiles towards the Americans, they were out of luck as fireballs from the missiles detonating in their face consumed their aircraft.

Nine German fighters remained, and they were able to notch enough to dodge the remaining three missiles.

The Germans quickly turned tail, they stood no chance at the invisible enemy who were picking them off one by one. Better to battle them when more information was available rather than go on a suicidal attack.

The American super hornets were also out of missiles, as they had fired nearly all over their long range missiles in the engagement they just had.

“Tombstone 1-6 to Hawk 0-2, we are requesting evac Winchester, hostile aircraft currently egressing from the area.”

“Negative Tombstone 1-6, pursue hostile aircraft, be advised Panthers are in the airspace right below you attempting to pursue hostiles.”

“Acknowledged Hawk 0-2.” The flight lead replied.

“Ooo! We are going guns! guns! guns! with our great grandpas, aren't we boss?” The pilot of Tombstone 1-2 giggled at what the AWACS ordered them to do.

“Shut up Dice! Tombstone unit, drop altitude to match the panthers, it is time we give them a show.” The flight-lead ordered as they began to maneuver their aircraft.

The American hornets descended towards the altitude of the pres-naval fighters.

The F9F Panther was the first successful carrier fighter for the US Navy, and it was like going to a museum to watch these warbirds fly.

The Tombstone pilots could see the surprise of the Panther fighters and the jealousy they emitted from looking at a more advanced jet which would out compete them all.

“All right boys, enough sight sighting.”

The four tombstone jets ignited their afterburners and sped ahead of the panther aircraft. The hornet pilots had enough fuel to catch up, engage in a short dogfight and RTB safely.

Quickly enough, they were able to catch up with the German Ho.229s. They were on their tails as the Germans did not realize it.

“Fox-2! Fox-2!”

Sidewinders launched from the hornets dropped from their pylons and ignited their burners and sped towards the germans. Only nine Germans remained, and they noticed it a bit too late.

They tried to dodge their incoming death as the German jets were pushed to their limits to dodge. However they stood no chance as they were all hit and exploded.

Only one German jet remained, and he had no plans to fight the americans.

“Daka! Daka! Daka!” Dice shouted as he fired one salvo of 20mm rounds at the German, who was lucky enough to move away in time to only have his tail get damaged.

“Dice! Time to egress, no buts.” The flight-lead ordered as the hornets began to return back to their carrier.

“Acknowledged.”

The German pilot was euphoric, he survived a battle with impossible odds and disregarded his ruined flight suit. It was time to return home and report what had just happened to their units.