Chapter 7: The Horror of Dogger Bank (Three)

  The starting point doesn't allow posting pictures, so I had to post the map of Donggeer Shallow Beach on Tieba instead: tieba./p/1616261857. Everyone can take a look when they have time; tonight there's an internal water friend competition, and the writing rhythm is immediately chaotic, watching is more important!

  In the northeastern waters of Rostov-on-Don, three German warships formed a column formation and advanced towards Dogger Bank. The 21,390-ton Von der Tann led the way, followed closely by the Moltke as the flagship of the decoy fleet, while the slightly older Blücher brought up the rear.

  At 1311, the foretop of Von der Tann reported a submarine periscope gleam close on the port quarter of the fleet, at a distance of about three cables.

  The North Sea had already become a paradise for German submarines, but King Haakon was still cautious and issued combat orders. Accompanied by the piercing alarm sound, three giant ships made preparations for emergency evasion and damage control, and the quick-firing guns on the left side also turned their muzzles together, pointing at the desolate North Sea.

  Soon, an Imperial U-boat surfaced, and the Moltke battleship sailed over with its flag flying. Under the gaze of thousands of sailors on the Moltke, the hatch of the submarine's conning tower was pushed open, and "Otto Weddigen", the "North Sea raider" who made Entente cordiale sailors lose their minds and was viewed by the Royal Navy as a thorn in the flesh, emerged onto the deck with a swagger. Shortly afterwards, First Lieutenant Karl D?nitz also came out.

  "Asshole!" Major Lauren, who was guarding the left gun of the 88mm cannon on the battleship Mauritius, was furious and pointed at Lieutenant Wedigen, who was in high spirits, and scolded loudly.

  Captain Weidergut was nonchalant, tightening the flight-style leather jacket on his body, with a cigarette in his mouth, and lazily responded with something. Across the howling North Atlantic wind, the voice was intermittent, and Major Lauren couldn't hear it clearly.

  "Commander!" When Wang Haitie, with the rank of Major General, appeared on the port side of the Mauzi war cruiser, Lieutenant Weidigen, who had been lounging about, finally became flustered, like a child caught doing something wrong, and hastily dropped the cigarette from his mouth, adjusted his disheveled uniform, and stood at attention.

  Although the Heligoland Bight Defence Command had been disbanded, Wang Haitie's old subordinates still called him Commander. The world of junior and non-commissioned officers and ordinary sailors was simple, clean and unsophisticated; they did not understand Emperor William's inferiority complex and hesitation, nor were they aware of the game at the level of maritime strategy, let alone the intrigue between high-ranking naval officers and countless compromises and concessions. They only remembered one victory after another, the commander's nostalgia on Mainz No. light cruiser after Heligoland Bight Battle, and they just wanted to use the now somewhat undeserved title "Commander" to express their reverence.

  "Rostoft Harbour has been destroyed by us, haha, there is no longer anything in this sea area that can be called a floating target!" U-9 submarine approached closer, Major Lauren poked his head out and pointed to the distant Heligoland Island, jeering at Weddigen: "Go back to your submarine base!"

  Otto Weddigen waved his hand, pointing to the sea area below, gesturing and explaining something. The wind and waves of the North Sea were slightly larger, cutting off Weddigen's voice line, only a few scattered words floated over vaguely.

  "August 25th... Rostov-on-Don... U-15 sank... mourning the souls of comrades..."

  "U-15 in Rostov-on-Don? The Madgeburg in the Baltic?" Sensitive King Heide subconsciously linked these two unrelated things together, and his groundless conjecture made him feel a chill run down his spine, cold sweat instantly seeping out and flowing freely along the brim of his hat in the November North Sea.

  "Vice Commander, urgent telegram from Naval Intelligence!"

  The intelligence officer of the decoy fleet rushed over in a fluster and handed the top-secret intelligence from the naval intelligence department to the otaku.

  At 4 am, David Beatty's First Battlecruiser Squadron put to sea in haste. At about 5 o'clock the Third Battle Squadron sailed south from Rosyth. By 7:30 am Jellicoe led the whole Grand Fleet south at full speed.

  The belated intelligence from the Intelligence Division was passed around in the command tower of SMS Moltke, and the commanders of the three battleships, the commander of U-9 submarine, and the senior staff officers of the fleet looked at each other, a suffocating feeling spreading inside the dimly lit and enclosed command tower of SMS Moltke.

  "David Beatty's First Battle Cruiser Squadron had set sail at 4 am, why did the naval intelligence agency's information just arrive now?" The gunner of the SMS Moltke complained, clutching the telegram paper.

  "Gentlemen, instead of complaining about the Empire's intelligence mistakes, it would be more practical to figure out the British people's true intentions!" The long cannon's complaint brought a chorus of agreement. The captain of the Moltke-class battlecruiser furrowed his brow, tapped on the iron table with his hand and said gloomily: "Is Admiral Jellicoe's Grand Fleet coming for us, or is it just a normal combat cruise training? Or is it a repeat of the Grand Fleet's strategic transfer to Wilhelm Bay at the end of October?"

  The excited commander and senior staff suddenly fell silent, deeply pondering the British strategic intentions. Time ticked by second by second, the unbearable silence continued, no one dared or was willing to break this stillness, because it contained a huge paradox, every time they delved deeper into thinking about the problem, the meticulous German minds would fall into an inexplicable vicious circle.

  Judging from the trajectory of the Grand Fleet's southward movement, it was likely that the target of the Royal Navy was this powerful German fleet. However, the timing of David Beatty's 1st Battlecruiser Squadron's sortie made everyone doubt their own judgment. At 4:00 am, when the decoy fleet had just completed half of its work in replenishing coal, water and ammunition, the warship boilers were not yet fully fired up, except for the highest commanders of three warships and senior staff temporarily assigned to the fleet, all sailors and junior officers thought this was just a simple and relaxing routine combat patrol.

  "Intelligence leak? No, Germany's code complexity is the highest in the world, it's almost impenetrable! Although there may be contradictions within the Navy, no one would dare to betray national and ethnic interests!"

  The young naval staff's fists clenched and unclenched, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the psychological blow they had already suffered until Wang Haiting struck a decisive note.

  "How long will it take to get from the coast of Rostov to the southwest side of Dogger Bank?" Wang Haitian's dark face was hanging with a forced smile, and he said indifferently.

  "A 109-mile voyage, if sailed at full speed, would only take five and a half hours." The experienced old navigator introduced without even lifting his head.

  "How long will it take for the 3rd Battleship Division and the 1st Reconnaissance Squadron to arrive at Dogger Bank from Heligoland Bay?"

  "200 nautical miles in a straight line distance, the First Reconnaissance Fleet needs more than ten hours of voyage!"

  "Five hours? Five hours!"

  Plans can't keep up with changes, David Beatty's almost monstrous accurate prediction and timely pre-emptive strike hit the weak point of Wang Haitian's overall plan. The relief troops from the decoy fleet will arrive on the battlefield at least five hours later, which means that the decoy fleet must hold out for more than four hours in a battlecruiser duel, and Jellicoe's main fleet may join in at any time.

  Wang Haitie took a deep breath, smiled slightly and made the final decision: "The fleet maintains its course and continues to advance! Inform General Scher and General Hipper: The Dogger Bank ambush plan date is advanced!"

  The officers and staff present let out a collective sigh of relief, no one wanting to think about the possibility of intelligence leaks, whether it was a mole in the Navy Department or the cipher codes being cracked, both would be a terrible disaster for the Great Ocean Fleet.

  Wang Haitian, with a swift and decisive air, walked out of the eerie command tower, his slightly drunken smile gradually fading away. He leaned against the icy cold armor plating of the Moqi No. 1's bridge, gazing up at the overcast sky of the North Sea, attempting to untangle the chaotic threads in his mind.

  "Deputy Commander, aren't you afraid at all..." The captain of the Mau Chi war cruiser walked over, looking at Wang Haitian who was deep in thought, wanting to speak but hesitating.

  "Three capital ships, three thousand five hundred officers and men, and for the first time since the 1898 naval armament competition, a situation where the enemy is weak and we are strong. This fleeting opportunity is what I fear." Wang Haitian turned his head and sighed, jokingly saying: "As for the possibility of intelligence leaks, that's something to consider after the war, because my Dogger Bank ambush plan is a thorough and open scheme!"

  ****

  At 5:03 pm on November 14, 1914, after a grueling thirteen-hour voyage, Beatty's battlecruiser squadron finally arrived in the waters northeast of Dogger Bank.

  Due to the sudden attack on Harwich by the German High Seas Fleet, it was clear that the four light cruisers and 19 destroyers of the Harwich Force could not be relied upon. Without scouting vessels, Admiral David Beatty had to divide his forces, sending the four light cruisers of the Second Cruiser Squadron and seven dreadnoughts of the Third Battle Squadron to patrol the Dogger Bank while the battlecruisers and three dreadnoughts swept the southeastern part of the North Sea in search formation.

  "How long will it take to get from Lampad to Dogger Bank, Captain?" David Betty asked, scanning the unfamiliar waters with his binoculars.

  The wind and waves of the North Sea have subsided a bit, and the western sunset pierced through the clouds above the North Sea, sprinkling a faint layer of crystal color on the Lion-class cruiser. Lamport, who had just been promoted to Rear Admiral, unfolded a large sea chart, measured it with a scale ruler, furrowed his brow, and replied: "The distance from Rostov-on-Don port to the southwest side of Dogger Bank is 109 nautical miles, which will take five and a half hours."

  Handsome and elegant David-Betty, with his back to the slanting sunset of the North Sea, buried his gloomy face in the dark shadow, saying indifferently:

  "In other words, I still have half an hour to find my old friend and personally... destroy this friendship!"

  ****

  The British Admiralty, First Lord of the Admiralty Churchill stood silently in front of the window, staring out at the wide Thames River.

  "Jazz, David Beatty's First Battle Cruiser Squadron has arrived at Dogger Bank..." Secretary Eddie Marsh whispered as he walked over.

  "Marsh, to be frank I never worried about Betty, that impulsive child has an instinct beyond the ordinary. Churchill lit his cigar, puffing out a cloud of smoke, facing Eddie Marsh and muttering to himself: "What I worry about is John Jellicoe, cautious as he is, he's the only naval officer who could lose a war in an afternoon!"

  ****

  "Things seem to have gotten out of hand, Hertzendorf..." Admiral Friedrich von Ingenohl, Commander-in-Chief of the High Seas Fleet, who had been lingering in Berlin, knocked on the door and walked into the office of Admiral Henning von Holtzendorff, Chief of the Admiralty Staff, with a gloomy face.

  "Five hours ago, the Naval General Staff ordered the First and Second Squadron of Battleships to set sail." Heerzendorf stood up from the sofa, slowly putting his Admiral shoulder straps and sword on the office desk. "Although I don't like Tirpitz's strong personality, but I do admire his leisurely life after retirement."

  A bleak rain continued to fall on the streets of Berlin. Two old men, whose combined age exceeded 120 years, paused for a moment and burst out laughing simultaneously.