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Chapter 12: Naval Political Storm (4)

  Chapter 12: Naval Political Storm (4)

  Sorry, I went out for dinner today. Also, congratulations to gay skyrim, this guy passed the civil service exam, we should let the whole nation send condolences.

  In February, the northern part of Scotland was shrouded in thick fog and strong winds, with large and small icebergs drifting down through the 100-mile gap between the Orkney and Shetland Islands. Occasionally, they would flash past the lookouts' telescopes on the Edgar-class and Crescent-class protected cruisers patrolling this sea area. As the only presence of the Royal Navy in the Shetland Sea, Rear Admiral Dudley de Chair's Tenth Cruiser Squadron had only a few old ships, with ages over 20 years, including Crescents and Edgars, searching for German blockade runners carrying military supplies and strategic materials like looking for needles in the ocean.

  The Grand Fleet's anchorage at Scapa Flow in the Orkney Islands was somewhat deserted. The familiar bold, invincible, Queen Mary and Iron Duke were already entombed in the cold North Sea, the large pre-dreadnought fleet had gone to its doom in the Dardanelles at Churchill's call, and the two new Queen Elizabeths which had joined the Grand Fleet for a brief moment were sent back to the builders for repairs. Now only twenty-five capital ships and a few armoured cruiser squadrons remained at Scapa Flow.

  "With the High Seas Fleet protecting his divine right, the German Emperor tried to suppress their best naval strategist... Vice-Commander Lanz of the First Scouting Group clutched the railing of the Lion, tightening his woolen naval coat: "Is it a nervous emperor's eccentricity or a pre-war deception like Dogger Bank? The German Navy in February is truly shrouded in fog!"

  "Subdue Silema? Who has the power to do so?" David-Betty snorted, coldly saying: "Even if the German Emperor's brain is feverish, his generals and nobles will not agree. Lampard, rather than worrying about the Berlin commotion, it would be better to think of a maritime tactic that can utilize the firepower and defensive capabilities of both the Elizabeth and the Jellicoe, while avoiding the weaknesses of the Queen-class speed."

  In February's North Sea cruise, the 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron was embarrassed to discover that the Queen Elizabeth-class fast battleships, designed for a speed of over 25 knots, could not exceed 24 knots in practice. The 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron had a general speed of over 25 knots, and although the Queen Elizabeths were powerful ships, they would hold back the battle cruisers' vital speed.

  "Elizabeth and Warspite have gone into dock for examination and improvement by the technical people." Limpus has been shuttling between Portsmouth and Devonport Dockyards, urging on the completion of the Queen-class boiler design. He is optimistic about the progress of the refit: "By early March at the latest, these two capital ships will rejoin the 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron."

  "It seems that the two Queen-class ships will have to be delayed...” David-Betty turned his head, gazing at the Baltic Sea shrouded in sea fog, and said with a complex tone: “The Jutland coastal battle cruise plan will be postponed until the Queen-class retrofit is completed..."

  ****

  "Westheim was, after all, a soul of the Navy handpicked by you..." Former High Seas Fleet Commander Friedrich von Ingenohl stroked his cap as he strolled with Alfred von Tirpitz on Munich's Ibenhausen Street, their ears filled with the opinions of Bavarian civilians about the sinking of the Brunswick and General Heidekamp Westheim.

  On February 8, the naval political storm had spread, and the professional newspaper of the Imperial Navy Association, "Navy Yearbook", published a paper written by Wolfgang Wegener, which analyzed in detail the deep-seated reasons for the decade-long armament competition of the Imperial Navy and the series of naval victories won by Germany starting from August 4, 1914. The implicit meaning was to praise young people. The headline on the front page of the financially-oriented "Frankfurter Zeitung" was surprisingly an article titled "The Tired Naval God of War" written by a finance professor at Frankfurt University, pointing out that Admiral Wilhelm von Souchon should be held responsible. At the same time, the "Berliner Tageblatt" and "Berliner Lokal-Anzeiger" continued to pursue the sinking of the SMS Brennus, with Generals K?pelle and Müller's tone becoming increasingly tough.

  Forced to resign and idle at home, Marshal Yingnuo easily saw that the Great Ocean Fleet was undergoing a profound and uncertain transformation: "The Emperor is sharpening his knife, Marshal, you seem not to be worried at all..."

  "There's nothing to worry about! His Majesty Wilhelm can't stop the rising tide of young people, and he'll even lose a few pawns." The sheepdog jumped happily at the street corner, and old Tirpitz carefully held the reins, throwing back his head and laughing: "The naval political storm, His Majesty Wilhelm is not the winner, Capelle and Müller are not either, nor is the so-called 'Tirpitz faction', the only true winners are Germany!"

  ****

  "Your Majesty, Heidegger-Sylem is a genius and the most important person in the naval conquest of the ocean. Even the proud British Navy acknowledges that he is on par with David Beatty!"

  On February 8, in the twilight of Berlin, outside Charlottenburg Palace, the naval military songs were filled with enthusiasm for our expedition to England and the tragic hidden in the majestic music. Even the emperor's anger could not dispel it.

  The shouting and crashing in the study left Wilhelm's adjutant, Georg von Pritzelwitz, shaken. The Iron Cross First Class awarded by Tirpitz still hung on the door of Wilhelm's study, but he did not dare to enter and ask about the great man's politics. Since the outbreak of war, the Emperor's mental state had not been good, sometimes inexplicably excited and arrogant, sometimes unconsciously humble and depressed. The civilian prime minister Bethmann was not a hard-nosed person, otherwise Bethmann would not have kept his position as prime minister until now, but in the incomprehensible February, Mr. Bethmann seemed to have also lost his usual composure, angry and furious.

  The study was in disarray, with expensive Persian carpets littered with documents awaiting review, the emperor's treasured books, a pair of white gloves that never left his side, and a precious sword that had never been stained with blood. Chancellor Bethmann's face was flushed with anxiety as he spoke in a measured tone. The Emperor stood with his back turned, breathing heavily as he gazed at the half-length oil portrait of his Hohenzollern ancestors hanging on the wall.

  "The Imperial propaganda machine has made Heiti-Wiesel a central figure, not because of his connections in the Navy, nor because of the recognition of Tirpitz, Ingenohl and Hertendorf, but because this young man can lead the German Navy to victory. The naval armament competition over the past decade has proven his strategic vision, and the series of victories on the surface since the start of the war have fully demonstrated his accurate prediction, courage, wisdom, decisiveness and sense of responsibility. Now, the Empire regards Heiti-Wiesel as a key figure in the Navy, the Entente lists him on the black list, and politicians and media from neutral countries portray his war with David-Beatty as the last battle of medieval knights. At this point, transferring Heiti-Wiesel away from the front line is not only the greatest waste of talent for the Empire, but also the biggest blow to German morale, and most importantly, it is the most uninteresting desecration of a war that determines the fate of a nation and its people!"

  "Bethmann, the High Seas Fleet is my fleet of Wilhelm von Hohenzollern. Since I detest that odious young man, he should not remain in the High Seas Fleet!" The Emperor turned around, his eyes sharp as a knife, as if to tear apart Bethmann-Hollweg, who was of commoner origin and a Prussian bureaucrat and teacher, and far-off Heidebrandt-Silem.

  "Your Majesty! The army is opposed, the civilians are opposed, and the navy's opposition is even more intense!" The widely recognized incompetent Prime Minister Bethmann ignored the Emperor's stern expression and insisted: "Removing General von Südow from office would be enough, it should be time for the political storm to end!"

  The heated debate in the study room came to an abrupt end as Tylerman finally let out a sigh of relief, for he had heard the footsteps he had been waiting for.

  "Alright, Prime Minister, as you wish!"

  ****

  February 10th, Gulf of Finland.

  After a long and arduous journey, the Brunswick's mine-striking accident investigation team, composed of elite troops drawn from the Imperial Navy General Headquarters and General Staff, finally arrived at the Baltic Sea blockade fleet, stumbling up to the flagship Levsoff.

  When the aged transport vessel slowly approached the blockading fleet, there were no fluttering flowers, no sailors' applause, nor any flying colorful flags. The entire fleet seemed to be shrouded in a fearful silence, and within this oppressive stillness lay a power as mighty as a tidal wave crashing against the shore, which even a naval department's desk officer who had never faced death on the front lines could deeply sense.

  In fact, the officials on the transport ship had already deeply felt this naked and almost overt hostility from the moment they boarded. The captain of the transport ship was slow to arrange for these high-ranking naval officers who were holding their sabers, but instead put all his energy into allocating supplies. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity for the transport ship to set sail, the deputy captain coldly led a group of civilian officials into the cabin with the worst air quality and the most noise. It's worth noting that the majority of the investigation team were civilian officials, who had the ability to wield their pens, but when faced with the vast ocean, no amount of sharp words or clever arguments could do anything to help, so except for the investigation team leader, who had a brave and fierce military face, everyone else was leaning over the side of the ship, vomiting until they were dizzy.

  The officials were determined to write down everything they saw and experienced in the investigation report, and they couldn't wait to interrogate Heiti-Silem and demand a reasonable explanation. The investigation team boarded the ship, with an air of momentum and killing intent, but as soon as they stepped onto the giant vessel with a standard displacement of over 30,000 tons and bristling with guns, they were immediately intimidated by the almost solid air hovering above the entire fleet, the bleak and stern atmosphere, and the sailors' gloomy black faces. The imperial envoys couldn't help but shrink their heads, fearing that some hot-headed sailor would shoot them in the face at any moment.

  The head of the investigation team, who had not yet finished his self-introduction, was suddenly pushed away by Sergeant Harbe, who seemed to be avoiding a plague. With a sharp movement, he untied the transport ship's traffic boat rope and reluctantly returned a military salute, with all sorts of impatience and annoyance written on his face.

  "There's nothing much to introduce, you're a big shot from Berlin, and I'm just a damage control soldier under General Westphal!"

  "Hauptmann Haber, you've got it wrong, he's not some big shot..." Wang Haitian walked over, gave the leader of the investigation team a standard military salute, and hugged him. "Long time no see, Erich-Rüdiger!"

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