Chapter 3: Naval Battle in the Fog (I)

  I revised the previous chapters last night, please go back and re-read them again to avoid not understanding the subsequent plot. Today, I unexpectedly completed the task, although 3,000 words are not very decent, it's within my ability, so please forgive me...

  August 1914, near the equator in the Micronesian Islands.

  The long-lost German East Asia Squadron is moored at the dock of Ponape, the largest island in Micronesia.

  There were not a few sailors kicking balls on the beach, or a group of sturdy young men wearing shorts and chasing after a ball-like object. Admiral Maximilian von Spee stood on the spacious bridge with a cup of coffee in his hand, staring blankly at those young people who were recklessly squandering their youth.

  Captain Bernhard von Oden of the armored cruiser Scharnhorst approached quietly, following the count's line of sight to find his sons Otto and Hans in the chaotic crowd on the beach.

  "Commander, the sailors on the Scharnhorst have been asking me for days when the fleet will set sail back to Qingdao." Oden smiled knowingly and said: "We've already been stuck on Ponape Island for a month..."

  "Auden, what do you want to say?" Baron von Speber regained his composure and looked at the lieutenant standing downwind, the renowned Auden, removing the pipe from his mouth to ask.

  "Before the fleet set sail at the end of June, I inadvertently overheard workers from the Qingdao Royal Shipyard complaining about how exhausting it was to convert merchant ships. At that time, I also found out that the Otter, Leopard, and Heimat, as well as the Tsingtau and Taku gunboats were undergoing repairs at the shipyard."

  Schwieger's interest seemed low, so Odendahl decided to speak quickly and lay out everything he had been thinking about day and night: "Commander, actually our purpose for this trip is not to inspect the British defenses in the South Pacific. Do you plan on giving up Jiaozhou Bay and the Caroline Islands?"

  "Captain, how was your trip home?" The coffee cup trembled slightly, and a drop of coffee spilled out, falling onto the deck. Graf Spee did not directly answer Oden's question, but instead asked Oden an unrelated one.

  Unfortunately, Auden didn't have the naval genius Heidi's nine-turns-and-eight-turns mind, and it took him half a day to figure out a clue.

  "Return home?" Auden hesitated.

  "Setting out from the Micronesian Islands, feinting northwards to deceive the British into thinking we are heading back to Qingdao, then reversing course and sailing west across the Pacific, avoiding the dangers of Cape Horn and the Falkland Islands, crossing the vast Atlantic once more, breaking through a gap of one hundred miles between the Orkney and Shetland Islands, and finally returning home." Admiral Spee ignored von Oden's increasingly pale face, explaining on his own: "Oden, this is my entire plan!"

  In June 1914, the sound of gunfire came from Sarajevo, and Count Spee's keen sense of awareness told him that war was about to break out. Under the threat of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, the main base of the East Asian Squadron, Tsingtao Bay and the Caroline Islands, were insufficient as a shield for the East Asian Squadron, and his fleet had become an isolated army. At the end of June, Count Maximilian von Spee took advantage of "going to the South Pacific to inspect the British defense forces" and led his East Asian Squadron out of Qingdao Port. In early July, he arrived at the desolate Micronesian Islands, and by the end of July, he even issued a summons to Leipzig and Emden cruisers.

  The fleet anchored in the small harbor of Ponape Island for nearly a month, and the officers and men on board Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were idle after training, with anxiety and rumors spreading, no one knew what this experienced old general, who joined the navy in 1878, had served as the port commander of Cameroon, Minister of Coastal Defense, and Chief of Staff of the North Sea Fleet, was planning.

  "That's a journey of tens of thousands of miles, with nine deaths and one life!" The boldness of Count Spee was so astonishing that even the great Oden of Kiel Marine Academy couldn't help but be tongue-tied.

  What to do about the British pursuit? Where to refuel and replenish water? How to solve mechanical damage problems? What stance will the South American countries, which are difficult to distinguish between friend and foe, take? Roger Stewin's "Mad Dog Fleet" crossed half of the globe, only to be ambushed by the Japanese in the Strait of Malacca just seven years ago!

  "What's wrong, are you afraid?" Count Shipei asked with a faint smile.

  "How could I, I'm not some sentimental weakling like Heidi Seiler!" Bernhard sneered, his confidence and adventurous spirit as a descendant of the Teutonic Knights evident. "Even if it's a nine-death-one-life situation in our homeland, staying in the Far East is certain death!"

  "Colonel, nine deaths and one life is too pessimistic. With the naval genius Admiral Scheer holding them back at Heligoland Bay, our chances of success are at least twenty percent." Graf Spee shook his head, half self-mockery and half confidence: "Hmph! Twenty percent, enough for us to fight for!"

  ****

  On August 2, 1914, at the mouth of the Tyne River in Newcastle upon Tyne, England, Rauf Bey, captain of the Ottoman battleship Sultan Osman I, stood on board the Turkish transport ship Re?id Pasha with some anxiety.

  On July 27, the transport ship Nissiden Pasha arrived at Newcastle with five hundred Turkish sailors who had just completed their training. Rauf wanted the sailors to board immediately so that they could familiarize themselves as soon as possible with this significant super-dreadnought, but Armstrong's company crudely and rudely rejected the reasonable request of the Turks.

  Raouf had a bad premonition at the time, and he expressed his concerns to the Admiralty and the Porte. Apparently, the Turkish Porte was more concerned about this dreadnought than Raouf was. The Turkish Foreign Ministry intervened, and the British were forced to make concessions, promising to deliver the battleship on August 2nd.

  Now Rauf is standing on the transport ship Nusret, with his Sultan Osman I battleship across the dock. In a few minutes, Turkish sailors will receive that super-dreadnought, and the Crescent Moon Navy, after more than 40 years of decline, finally ushered in a new dawn, and the rise of the navy must have Rauf's heavy brush!

  At this thought, Rauv was involuntarily excited.

  Just as Rauf was lost in thought, a team of guards stationed at the shipyard walked towards the dock, holding rifles and pulling up warning lines, silently sealing off the dock.

  That uneasy feeling was back, and Rauf felt irritable, his left eye twitching nonstop. Although Mr. Gunn, the liaison officer sent by the Amstrad board of directors, emphasized that it was just a necessary measure to ensure order at the reception site, Rauf was skeptical.

  The British arbitrarily modified the design drawings of the Ottoman Empire's Sultan Osman I, and the Turks tolerated it; during the construction process, they cut corners and delayed time, and the Turks protested in vain and also tolerated it; after the sea trial of the warship Sultan Osman I was completed, the shells and propellant were still nowhere to be found, and the Turks negotiated in vain and still tolerated it; on the day of delivery, a large number of shipyard soldiers blocked the dock, which is an open insult to any country or nation in the world. Rauf Efendi did not want to complain to Gün, he swallowed his anger and compromised, just hoping that Sultan Osman I could return home smoothly.

  "Stop gawking and board the ship!" Rauf clenched his fists and shouted at the bewildered Turkish sailors in an attempt to conceal his own nervousness.

  Turkish officers and men boarded the dreadnought with great fanfare, raising the Turkish flag at the first opportunity. They sang their national anthem, sprayed champagne, and proudly waved from the bridge, deck, turrets, and command tower.

  Unfortunately, August 2 was destined to be a day of sorrow for the Turks. At around ten o'clock in the morning, a battalion of British regular troops marched into the dockyard, carrying rifles with fixed bayonets and boarded the Sultan Osman I dreadnought, which had already become a floating territory of the Ottoman Empire.

  "Gu En, do you want to break the agreement?!"

  Rauf finally understood everything, the Armstrong company was deliberately delaying time, and the British Navy was preventing the Turks from boarding the ship. It wasn't that the Turks weren't doing enough or being humble enough, but rather the British had never intended to fulfill the contract! Poor Ottoman Empire spent all its pounds, scraped together by selling pots and pans, to add a super-dreadnought to the British fleet, and the eager and thirsty Turkish people became the biggest fools and laughing stock of this century!

  Rauf clenched his teeth, not even noticing the blood on his lips. He took a step forward and glared at the short Guen manager, saying angrily: "Has Turkey ever defaulted on the payment for the purchase of the Ottoman Sultan I ship?"

  "Never!" Little Guren replied with a serious expression.

  "Has Turkey ever offended Britain?"

  "Never!"

  "Has Turkey joined the Allies or is there such a tendency?"

  "Never!"

  "Why are you still holding our battleship!" Rauf could no longer hold back his anger, he jumped up and grabbed the sneering shipyard manager Goen, roaring: "For this battleship, the Turkish people have tightened their belts, even borrowing money; for this battleship, despite your difficulties with the Turkish people, they never complained; for this battleship, I would even betray my friends! Is this how the British repay their friends, repay the kindness and sincerity of the Turkish people?!"

  "That was an order from the First Lord of the Admiralty, Churchill." Guen smiled wryly and spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness: "Sorry, we... had no choice!"

  A British soldier raised the butt of his rifle and slammed it into Rauf's back, causing Rauf's raised fist to loosen and fall to the ground. The butt and feet rained down on Rauf's chest and back.

  "Send these Turks back to the Nisidieh Pasha and let them eat their lunch and get out!" Gune pointed at the Turkish sailors who were being held by the British Army, saying coldly.

  "Old England, I swear, shall pay a terrible price for this!"

  The Turkish ice-cold stilettos sent back the Nisidieh Pasha transport ship, almost under the intimidation of British gunboats. Rauf's anger could still be heard clearly across the sea, and Gunes was not angry, but simply laughed recklessly:

  "Revenge? Revenge of Turks?"

  ****

  August 10, 1914, Sea of Marmara, Turkey.

  After a disorderly cannonade, the German Mediterranean Division under Rear Admiral Wilhelm Souchon managed to shake off interference from four British cruisers commanded by Admiral Sir Archibald Berkeley Milne and made their way into the Dardanelles and then took refuge in the Ottoman capital of Constantinople.