Chapter Sixteen: The Trump Card (Part One)

  I only managed to write one chapter last night, and it's less than three thousand words. Well, I'll just owe that one chapter for now. I'm worried if this book will end up being a weekly, monthly or yearly publication...

  Like a flock of migratory birds, the returning troops stood at the crossroads. The undamaged Defflinger, the battered Zrínyi, the seasoned Moltke and the heavily damaged Tegetthoff followed Lützow as they drifted across the sea.

  The bodies of the dead had been wrapped in white sheets, while the survivors either had thick, blood-soaked bandages wrapped around their heads or were clutching wounds that had yet to be stitched up, looking lost and helpless in the medical bay. The captains hastily completed the task of tallying up the casualties and immediately reported back to the flagship Levski.

  The just-ended half-hour fierce battle was like a magnificent feast, but the fragrance and beauty that lingered around were ultimately unable to withstand the ravages of darkness and fog. The British and German navies, who had been blinded by bloodlust, abandoned ship in haste.

  Facing the British fast fleet with ten capital ships, the First Scouting Group under the command of their wise and astute commander made a timely difference, taking advantage of the fact that two newly commissioned Queen-class battlecruisers and three weary battlecruisers had not yet arrived on the scene to launch a surprise attack and cut off the First Battle Cruiser Squadron.

  This is a naval battle that concerns the fate of the nation. If we win, the British long-distance blockade and the Allies' war of attrition will no longer be a terrible nightmare. If we lose, the brief balance at sea will be broken, and the Grand Fleet will be unable to do anything, only miserably trapped in the North Sea. The most critical thing is that the opportunity... only comes once!

  With perseverance, the first to discover the opponent, textbook-like tactical movements, repeating the order to open fire like a drill, and sacrificing the lives of crew members. The First Reconnaissance Fleet's five main warships and thousands of officers and soldiers fought with all their might, but unfortunately, the outcome of the half-hour battle was only a laughable draw. A draw? No, how can it be a draw!

  Junior officers hid near the secondary gun turret, nibbling on canned beef, despite the annoying sea fog that made it impossible to see even nearby friendly ships. However, those piercing blue eyes kept flying towards the flagship. Sailors lined up to go to the dining hall for dinner. The winter night in the North Sea was cold and long, so the cook prepared hot steaming wheat buns, canned beef, and thick coffee to ensure the sailors' physical strength. Unfortunately, the cook's kindness was wasted, as the narrow ship's slightly spacious dining hall was filled with unbearable silence. Quietness, still quietness, the captains wrapped themselves tightly in thick winter clothes and walked up to the mist-shrouded bridge, gazing at the dark night sky with sighs that spoke volumes about their hardships!

  Where is David Beatty, the admiral's namesake? Perhaps he has already joined his Second Battle Cruiser Squadron, ten fast capital ships forming a line of battle several kilometers long on the vast ocean, or perhaps he is baring his sharp fangs in the darkness to deliver the most lethal blow to the former hunter.

  Unwilling! Countless times of hard training, countless days and nights of deliberation, carrying the mighty mission of the nation, but after the dust settles, it's a grand mess. No, the First Reconnaissance Fleet can still fight, the First Reconnaissance Fleet wants to fight again, but in front of them is the famous general David Beatty, with ten fast main battleships, and behind them are the conservative factions of the Admiralty and the Schloss Charlottenburg Palace, watching them like a tiger. Can a 37-year-old young man still withstand the pressure as before, put aside the "preserve the ship and avoid battle" shackle, overdraw his military career and the support of his superiors, and use iron and blood to fight for the last time?

  The captains turned their heads and asked the silent Ryurik in unison.

  "That's ten battleships! The German Navy can't withstand the devastation of defeat, and even if one battleship sinks, it would be enough to make the High Seas Fleet collapse!"

  The pale and red-eyed Vice Admiral Lewinter, deputy commander of the First Reconnaissance Fleet, struggled to maintain his composure in front of Wang Haitian, stammering words of comfort.

  "Commander, retreat! We still have a chance!"

  "As the commander predicted before the war, this naval battle is our only and last chance! Rather than being trapped on the coastline and becoming a mere existing fleet, it's better to fight with all one's might for a thread of life!" The younger and more impulsive Chief of Staff, Singler, jumped out, his face flushed with excitement.

  "It's still a fleet, no matter what!" Leutnant Z?berlein, who was usually in tune with Kapit?nleutnant Witte, rarely expressed his own opinion, but now he spoke out, his voice filled with regret, pain, anger and shame: "Admittedly, the British fast battleships are not in good condition, but they can still defeat us with their proud battle line! Maybe each of us can laugh at life and death, but if the First Scouting Group suffers an unprecedented defeat, who will protect the hundreds of miles of German coastline?!"

  Even when Wang Haitian unexpectedly rose to become the chief of staff of the First Reconnaissance Fleet, Leventritt was already a lieutenant colonel deputy chief of staff. A graduate of the Hamburg Naval Academy, he gave Wang Haitian the most intuitive impression of being a typical Prussian military officer, believing in iron and blood, speaking little but doing much, and being strict with himself. However, today, Leventritt showed another side of himself, which is also the most precious thing under the militaristic nationalism that the German people are proud of, perhaps it was what Wang Haitian had been thinking about but couldn't forget.

  A sudden quarrel between the fleet's deputy commander and chief of staff, who had a good personal relationship, made the atmosphere on the cruiser Lev Tolshtoy eerie. The temperature seemed to have dropped to freezing point, and even the seasoned veterans couldn't help but shiver; the air was so thin that the young military academy interns could hardly breathe, and the silence was such that the cipher clerks in the radio room could hear their own heartbeats.

  Even if the commander's face is calm, everyone knows that their most respected commander is under pressure. Although the commander hides and conceals it, everyone clearly sees the tranquilizer in the commander's pocket. The key to breaking the deadlock is obviously on Wang Haitie's body, but the staff found that saying one more word, urging one more sentence is so difficult!

  Inside the command tower, an endless sense of oppression and countless silences filled the air. At this moment, Wang Haitian finally withdrew his gaze from everyone's face and spoke calmly.

  "The Deutschland is heavily damaged, the boiler temporarily cannot be repaired, and the overloaded speed can only be maintained at 26.4 knots." Wang Haitian's blurred vision swept across everyone's face, as if distinguishing some clues, but also seemed to stubbornly choose to forget: "That is to say we still have four available ships: Lützow, Dvina, Seydlitz and Moltke!"

  Perhaps this cold joke was too shocking, so everyone is busy digesting it, or maybe they think the story is too dull and uninteresting, so they lost interest in speaking up. In short, the endless silence inside the command tower continues.

  "Look at the results of our battle... The Indomitable and Intrepid are lightly damaged, while the Lion and Royal Princess are heavily damaged, with the latter possibly losing its combat effectiveness." Queen Hattie turned over the telegram paper, her face still carrying a faint emotion: "The British have two newly completed Queen-class ships that have not yet formed their combat power; three Indefatigable-class ships have just completed an astonishing turnaround run in the Atlantic, and it's unclear how much of their combat power remains."

  The poor devil, once fearful of war and death, King Haide ultimately chose to stay. Under pressure and uncertainty, whether it was the otaku from his previous life or the German naval officer in this life, he would more or less habitually lean towards conservatism. But no one understood the direction of the war better than King Haide, and no one knew the outcome of the fleet's existence better than him. So, after much hesitation, King Haide finally took a step forward as a brave man, stubbornly choosing what he had avoided in his previous life.

  "The First Reconnaissance Fleet is turning, heading northeast by 20 degrees, speed 18 knots! The First Destroyer Squadron is moving forward, responsible for reconnaissance and vigilance. The Second Destroyer Squadron is sweeping the battlefield, paying attention to covering at any time. The Second Reconnaissance Fleet remains on the left wing of the fleet, I need news from the main fleet!" Wang Haitian took out his pocket watch and looked at the time, shaking off some of the depression in his mood. His gloomy tone finally rose: "I admit that I underestimated my opponent, underestimating the war. It is now 18:41, the Grand Fleet is behind us, about three hours' sailing distance from us. The main fleet is moving towards the northern tip of the Jutland Peninsula. The British Fast Squadron is lurking nearby, their mission is to find us and lure us out of the Heligoland Bay as much as possible, to decide the battle in the Skagerrak Strait!"

  Wang Haitie took out a pen and drew a heavy circle on the map at the location of Skagerrak Strait, then threw down the pen with a gesture of unfinished meaning.

  "If pride is the Royal Navy's habit, then being adventurous is Beatty's Achilles' heel! So as long as possible, he will never give up the goal of annihilating the First Scouting Fleet; and Jellicoe does not want to or dare to have a decisive battle with the High Seas Fleet in March 1915, so our task is to entangle the British fast fleet on the premise of preserving ourselves, making them a palatable bait, forcing the main fleet to stage an early main force decisive battle. So this is not over yet, we still have one more chance!"

  "Commander, perhaps in this world there will only be one time when the Multigrid shallows are shocked!" Leventz seemed to want to exhaust some people's fears, and stubbornly wanted to achieve the definition of Zhēng Chén.

  "Deputy Commander, I promise you we will definitely win, definitely!" Wang Haitian's face was full of sincere promises, and in her heart, she secretly added another sentence.

  "Great job, Lieutenant General! Your double reed performance was excellent!"