Chapter 8: The Otaku's Fleet (5)

  Add more, for yesterday's title mistake, and also humbly ask for a recommendation vote, it's been a long time since I last spoke...

  November 15th, early morning, North Sea Dogger Bank.

  Light gray morning fog, choking nitrous smoke and bloody smell still in the overcast sky, on the calm sea surface everywhere are burning oil, small blocks of wreckage of warships, floating clothes, waste paper and corpses of sailors from both sides.

  On the 14th at 22:00, as night fell, two large fleets completed their rendezvous and withdrew from the battlefield. The sporadic exchange of fire between supporting ships ceased around 23:00, bringing an end to the carnage on Dogger Bank. On the morning of the second day, several old British torpedo boats and German patrol boats searched the surface of the shallow waters off Dogger Bank, surveying the aftermath of the grand and elegant battle that had left behind a scene of utter devastation. The grey bows of hundreds of tons of destroyers crushed lifeboats, sailors leaned over to retrieve bodies belonging to their respective countries, which were then hastily wrapped in grey shrouds after a brief prayer by the ship's chaplain. As the darkness before dawn gave way to a cruel sunrise and a blood-red sky, the number of corpses continued to grow, until the narrow decks of the destroyers had no room left for the living.

  At dawn, greedy seagulls followed the scent of death to this sea area, with an unbecoming grief and solemnity, perched on the mast of a torpedo boat, taking advantage of the sailors' inattention to snatch food.

  The warships of the two countries accelerated their salvage operations, and occasionally when they met, insults like "Arschloch" and "shit" flew back and forth.

  Just as the two nations' sailors were shouting at each other in languages the other couldn't understand, a terrible storm was brewing globally and was about to erupt!

  ****

  At noon on November 15, the morning fog had dissipated, and the weather in Heligoland Bay was fine. A blue-gray painted L-type Zeppelin airship was on patrol duty.

  In 1898, Ferdinand von Zeppelin designed and manufactured the first rigid airship. Because it used a structural skeleton to maintain the shape of the envelope and piston engines for power, the airship had good flight performance and a large payload capacity, so the Zeppelin finally entered the vision of the Imperial Navy and Army, while as early as a year ago, Heidemann had proposed the concept of a combat airship.

  Under the guidance of the Zeppelin concept, German airship development was smooth sailing and stood out from the rest. Before World War I, the Zeppelin company launched the Navy L-type airship, Army Z-type airship, and LZ general-purpose airship. These airships could be equipped with machine guns and small bombs to perform low-intensity support actions, and could also be used as reconnaissance forces. The 4-ton payload also allowed the airship to transform into a transport force.

  Since the outbreak of World War I, the Navy has been equipped with more than 30 Zeppelin airships. It was under the support and guarantee of these airships that even if the High Seas Fleet was banned, German light warships were still rampant in the North Sea.

  At noon, with a strip of bacon and a white roll in his mouth, and the water-bottle in his hand, the flying soldier clustered together, discussing in low tones the uncertain outcome of last night's Dogger Bank battle, and wishing good luck to the Sylt fleet. Of course, the topic of conversation among the flying soldiers was being discussed by old men, housewives, minor officials, and business magnates in every corner of Germany, the whole empire pricked up its ears and held its breath, listening for any rumor or... bad news from the depths of the North Sea.

  Klopp, the duty flight soldier who had eaten lunch early, interjected a few words at first, but his attention was soon drawn to the endless Heligoland Bay outside the observation hole, his black pupils shrinking rapidly, and his lips began to tremble.

  "It's the Grand Fleet! They've come back!" Klopp shouted, tearing off his binoculars and pointing towards the observation port.

  The starving flying soldier was startled, bread crumbs entered the airway, and he immediately bent down and coughed violently, not daring to raise his head for a long time. The flying soldiers looked at each other, their expressions somewhat solemn.

  On the evening of November 14, rumors spread throughout Germany's streets that David Beatty led the First Battle Cruiser Squadron south to intercept the returning Scheer fleet, with John Jellicoe's main force following closely behind, attempting to annihilate the German genius. Although no one wanted Admiral Heidekamp Scheer to become a second Nelson, the overwhelming odds made it impossible for these honest German Hanses to fabricate reasonable lies to comfort themselves.

  "Has the Western Fleet returned?" The flying soldiers asked in a low voice, not daring to look at the casualties of the Oceanic Fleet.

  "Perhaps the light is too dazzling..." Nineteen-year-old Klopp rubbed his eyes, biting his lip and bleeding: "I can't see Brügge, I can't see von der Tann..."

  The roar of the piston engine seemed to be isolated, like a sound from another world, and the flying soldiers were dazed, almost biting their silver teeth.

  The Blücher sank, what a good old ship it was, it had been affectionately called the "Blücher the Great" by sailors. It had made the British Invincible-class battlecruiser feel ashamed! The Von der Tann sank, it was Germany's first battlecruiser, its performance was not inferior to that of the Lion-class battlecruisers equipped with 343 main guns. The old captain Marx-Hahn was also highly respected in the navy. In just one night, a mere 10 or so hours, they fell into a deep sleep on the shallow seabed of the North Sea, never again to see the lighthouse of Wilhelmshaven, nor the locks of the Kiel Canal.

  "What about Musashi?!" After a long silence, the flying soldier suddenly remembered that there was still one battleship and one Heidemarie Seiler.

  The sea in front of the airship, the ocean fleet's smoke billowed and the military flags fluttered, while the stumbling Moltke was clearly an exception. Due to flooding in the engine room, the Moltke had almost completely lost power, four of its five 305mm main gun turrets were thoroughly destroyed, becoming a defenseless warship, with hardly any intact areas on its upper structure except for the narrow command tower. The sea surface was less than half a meter away from the Moltke's main deck, and waves crashed across the badly damaged main deck. After the brutal Dogger Bank Sea Battle, the heavily damaged Moltke looked like it was being towed by the Lützow to the Wilhelmshaven shipyard, as if it were in a half-submerged dry dock.

  "The Moltke is still afloat, although badly damaged, but she has not sunk!" Klopp turned his head and waved his arm excitedly: "Long live the unsinkable ship! Long live the undefeated Aris! Long live Germany!"

  ****

  Scapa Bay in the remote and chilly Orkney Islands of northern Scotland.

  To avoid surprise attacks by German U-boats and disguised minelayers, the British constructed an iron curtain at Scapa Flow consisting of light cruisers, destroyers, trawlers, seaplanes and anti-submarine nets.

  In the southern part of the defense line, a trawler registered with the British Admiralty as a support and supply ship was on patrol. The volunteer sailors and naval personnel on board lined up to go down to the lower deck for meals, while the sailors who came over to change shifts took over their posts, either holding onto the helm that had not a hint of grease or oil, or sitting in front of the telegraph machine with some languor after lunch, or nimbly climbing up the mast to gaze out towards Dogger Bank.

  At 2:23 pm, numerous smoke columns rose in the southeast direction. Those smoke columns did not seem to be as thick as those of ordinary merchant ships, and they looked somewhat faint.

  "The Great Fleet! The Great Fleet has returned!"

  David Beatty led five battlecruisers and three dreadnoughts south at dawn, with John Jellicoe's main fleet following close behind. The news had spread throughout the Orkney Islands overnight and was still spreading towards the heart of the British Empire. As Britain cheered David Beatty's daring action, as the English gentlemen showed their clear love and hate to the young people without any delay, the trawlers in the south of the Orkney Islands were also breathing with their compatriots, sharing the same fate.

  The sailors and volunteers were excited, wearing their military caps and eagerly jumping onto the mast or the highest point on the deck, waiting for the hero's triumphant return, as for the possibility of defeat, they didn't even consider it.

  Heidekamp, although personally outstanding, had only two battlecruisers and one large armored cruiser at his disposal, while the first Scouting Group of the British Grand Fleet had five battlecruisers and three dreadnoughts, not to mention the command abilities of the "sea riders" of the great empire were in no way inferior to those of the Germans!

  The vanguard fleet, consisting of four dreadnoughts from the First Battle Squadron, six armoured cruisers from the First Cruiser Squadron, six light cruisers from the Third Light Cruiser Squadron and thirty-two destroyers from the First and Second Destroyer Flotillas, emerged from the North Sea in a cloud of smoke. The trawlers, unable to contain their excitement, hoisted the Z flag and the signal "Welcome Home".

  The vanguard fleet had no time to bother with the insignificant trawler, and it steamed across this stretch of sea, cutting through the waves towards Scapa Bay.

  "...We've been defeated..." Amidst the lingering resentment, a ridiculous, irrational and absurd idea like an evil tumor was spreading in the minds of these sailors. The sailors teased each other, nervously telling the long-standing yellow joke among the sailor group, waiting for the main force of the fleet.

  At 14:42, the main force of the Grand Fleet came over, and the three dreadnoughts Marlborough, Benbow, and Emperor of India led the way. Immediately afterwards, supported by the six armoured cruisers of the Second Cruiser Squadron and the six light cruisers of the Second Light Cruiser Squadron, Admiral Beatty's First Battlecruiser Squadron finally emerged.

  Gaping holes and gashes in the waterline armor, gaping holes in the thin plating of the bows, the upper works a mass of wreckage, the bridge and mainmast tottering, with signs of fire and smoke, Lion, badly damaged, limped along under tow of Tiger, making for Scapa Bay, followed by Princess Royal, slightly damaged, King George V and Conqueror, badly mauled on their upper decks.

  "What about the Invincible? What about the Queen Mary? What about the Iron Duke?" The sailors on the trawler refused to believe their eyes, and a bad premonition was gradually confirmed, weighing like a thousand-pound weight on everyone's heart, making it hard for them to breathe. Even so, no one dared to speak first, using an eerie silence as a desperate resistance!

  The battleship fleet continued to advance, the British King George V-class battleship was still majestic, but unfortunately, the sailors on the trawler had no interest in watching. A sleepless night, a scorching morning, and the joy that had been buried for so long was suddenly awakened by a harsh reality. The sailors had imagined countless endings, but even the worst ending would be better than having two battlecruisers and one dreadnought sunk, considering that the Silem fleet only had two battlecruisers and one large armored cruiser!

  "Are we overestimating David Beatty or is Heidegger's Seylem really unstoppable? Is the Grand Fleet too powerful or has it already begun its inevitable decline? Who will save England?"

  A destroyer detached from the fleet of cruisers, approached the trawler and several officers jumped aboard. Looking at a group of dejected sailors with their heads hung low, the officer's pale face revealed an evil smile.

  "Brave and loyal Royal Navy officers, I have to tell you that the Sleem fleet's raid on British soil is a thorough conspiracy! Unfortunately, we were ambushed by the main force of the Ocean Fleet and suffered heavy losses!" The officer waved his arms, sometimes sorrowful and sometimes excited: "However, David Beatty used the Queen Mary and the Indomitable to annihilate the Sleem fleet, which had two battlecruisers and one pseudo-battlecruiser, and repelled the aggressive Ocean Fleet!"