Seref Games

With a population of about 45, the actual leadership of the Kerguelens is less actual national structure, but more a collection of people who tend to agree on things, and as such, there isn't even a formal military force. An invading force would not have to content with a serious resistance, perhaps thankfully.

February 11, 1956

“What a desolate shit hole,” Lieutenant Valerie Omondi said, staring at an island through a pair of binoculars. The Kerguelen islands had been designated a priority target for pacification, and so the Royal Army Maritime Service had been dispatched to transport a Company of the Pacification forces. The Pacification Marines, for their part, had spent the trip huddling together as the seas became colder and colder. The trip had taken the better part of five days, and at last, the Marines were treated to the sight of the land they’d come to pacify in the name of their Queen.

“Shit,” Valerie repeated and passed off the binoculars to another officer. The thick mittens she wore made the whole gesture clumsy and awkward. “We must’ve pissed in someone’s oatmeal to get assigned here.”

“Eh, yeah,” a Sergeant said, “hopefully this is a one and done and we can get back home.”

“Don’t bet on it,” one of the ship’s officers spoke up. “We brought enough materials to build a pretty permanent base for you poor bastards. But tell you what, tell me your boyfriend’s address and I’ll go give him your love when I get back to port.”

“Oi!” The Sergeant puffed up and took a step toward the naval officer, but stopped when Valerie laid a hand on his shoulder.

“No point to the anger, ship’s got most of the supplies. They’ll be stuck here just as long as us.”

“Oh,” the Sergeant turned back to the railing glumly, while the Naval officer stuck her tongue out at him and sauntered away.

Valerie went back to watching the island, quietly dreading having to dig in the frigid looking rocks. Crew and soldiers moved on about their duties around her, and eventually, her thoughts were interrupted by a voice booming in Swahili for the Pacification Marines to gear up and prepare to land.

July 11th, 1957

Valerie Omondi sat in a squashy arm chair, her feet kicked up on a table. The year and a half since her arrival on the largest of the Kerguelen Islands had been mostly cold, mostly boring, and mostly miserable. As time had gone on, the engineers assigned to her unit and the RAMS ship had built a small military outpost. Each month brought more comfort, but no more entertainment. That is, until the last month when a prefab aircraft hangar had been put up. The hangar, rather than hosting any real aircraft, instead played host to the base’s cinema.

The enlisted seating was folding fabric chairs, not the height of luxury or comfort. The officer’s seating, on the other hand, was a mish-mash of discarded furniture from the supply ship or the few resupply vessels that had steamed into the modest docks. Valerie enjoyed spending her time in the theater, watching whatever films the unit had managed to get its hands on. Coffee was always available, card games were always to be had, and sometimes someone managed to secure sweets from a supply ship.

The island was no less desolate, no less frigid, but the comforts of home were seeping into the base. Soldiers could warm themselves, could laugh and enjoy themselves, could feel like they were still part of civilization. For a rock in the middle of nowhere, Kerguelen Base was quickly starting to feel like just another part of the East African Kingdom.