Chapter 108
Chapter 108
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: World War II - Darkest Hour (1)
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June 12, 1940
Kiel Naval Base, Schleswig-Holstein, Northern Germany
The army, having swiftly quelled the chaos of the coup attempt, was now in the midst of preparing for the invasion of Italy.
The reason the offensive had yet to begin was to allow for the deployment of 88mm anti-aircraft guns, heavy field artillery, self-propelled guns, and the new Panzer IV tanks, all in an effort to apply the lessons learned from the previous battle.
The terrain was so wretched that maneuver warfare would be difficult anyway. Our conclusion, then, was to simply unleash overwhelming firepower and pulverize the enemy's defensive line itself.
Better to shower them with shells until they shattered than to push our precious soldiers and tanks into their defenses.
Unlike the Nazis, who had chaotically produced all sorts of equipment with their already disastrous economy, we were operating under the motto of mass-producing fewer types of equipment. With our better economic situation, we had significantly strengthened our artillery forces. Especially the 88mm anti-aircraft guns.
The deployment for the operation was nearing completion. This time, we planned to project the overwhelming firepower of our air force and artillery before commencing the operation, even if it meant delaying the start due to poor weather.
Amidst all this, I found myself at the Kiel naval base with Emperor Wilhelm III for the first time in a while.
Accompanied by the splendid performance of a military band, the sight of the newly commissioned battleship Bismarck elegantly cutting through the sea was certainly a spectacle to behold.
Unlike the Bismarck of the original history, there was no swastika painted on its deck. Seeing the tricolor flag fluttering instead, I felt a surge of battleship pride I never knew I had.
“Hmm, so I get to have a Bismarck this way.”
“....”
*What’s with this emperor’s obsession with Bismarck?* As I was thinking this, the emperor leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially.
“But, to be honest, I find the Scharnhorst more elegant. I prefer that one.”
“...Is, is that so, Your Majesty.”
Why is he being so creepy? Honestly, to my eyes, they were all just weapons of steel, one much like the other.
Since the military government’s coup, the emperor had consistently shown favor toward the Fourth Reich and me.
In fact, it was his support and signature that proved crucial in securing the pledge of civilian control from the three branches of the military after their recent coup attempt.
Of course, that alone wouldn't magically transform the German military into a model of civilian control under a fine democracy, but his help had undoubtedly been instrumental in taking that first step.
Yet, the fact that I still didn't like him at all made me wonder if our personalities were just fundamentally incompatible.
The emperor chuckled, amused by my repulsed expression, before turning his gaze to Admiral Raeder.
Well, Admiral Raeder, who was watching the Bismarck with eyes full of pride and satisfaction, would surely be heartbroken if he heard the emperor's true feelings.
Of course, the emperor was a thoroughly political man and would never say something to spoil the mood.
“Truly magnificent, Admiral Raeder. I have high expectations for the battleship that will be responsible for the future of the Reichsmarine.”
“It is an honor, Your Majesty! All the men of the Reichsmarine and the crew of the Bismarck will most certainly live up to your expectations!”
Wilhelm III offered a faint smile, sharing a heartwarming moment with Admiral Raeder, but frankly, I found it hard to place much hope in that Bismarck.
At least its situation was better than its original history counterpart, as the finishing touches were done with British engineers and the budget was larger than under Nazi Germany, allowing some of its design flaws to be corrected.
We had reinforced the turret protection and deck armor and installed a British-made radar, but the basic design was still outdated. I honestly didn't know how it would fare.
Still, there was no need to rain on Admiral Raeder's parade, his face beaming with a proud smile. To be fair, the German navy of the original history was a truly pitiful bunch.
“A confrontation with France is certain at some point. The Fourth Reich government has high hopes for the navy’s performance in such an event, Admiral.”
“I am well aware, Vice-Chancellor. As you requested, we have been conducting damage control training consistently, so you can expect good results in a real battle.”
“That is good to hear.”
Although the Reichsmarine's main fleet had been a considerable help in the defense of Königsberg, we still had to divert a not-insignificant portion of our already tight budget to the navy.
While we were at it, I had ordered damage control simulation drills to address, even if only slightly, the German navy's chronic problem of being incapacitated with every hit.
With our naval power already inferior, there was nothing more wasteful than losing those expensive ships every time they took a punch.
The Reichsmarine had put on a display that could only be described as a complete mess when I first observed, but a pride-wounded Admiral Raeder had drilled them relentlessly, and now their performance seemed reasonably competent.
“Production of the Type VIIC U-boats is proceeding smoothly, Vice-Chancellor.”
Next up was Dönitz. When we first met, the admiral wouldn't even speak to me, but now he regarded me with a relatively favorable gaze, which was a relief.
“Excellent news. It is unrealistic for us to catch up to other navies with our surface fleet right away, but the submarine fleet has been a strength of the German navy since the Great War, serving as an asymmetrical force.”
When the naval budget was increased, the construction plan Admiral Raeder submitted to us had completely omitted any expansion of the submarine fleet.
The naval high command was already dominated by big-gun battleship proponents, and Dönitz had been a Nazi sympathizer, but this seemed too much. Thanks to me pointing this out, the navy began construction of the new U-boats, for which designs already existed.
Well—however.
“Admiral Dönitz. You have already promised, but unrestricted submarine warfare must be kept off the table.”
“...I am aware, Vice-Chancellor.”
Dönitz affirmed with a subtle expression, but I still harbored great concerns about that U-boat fleet.
Of course, I knew full well that the international law requiring submarines to surface, give warning, and then confirm before sinking a vessel was absurd.
So I couldn't demand they follow it to the letter, but sinking every ship in sight was something only the Nazis would do.
“It may be frustrating from a tactical standpoint, but we are producing reconnaissance seaplanes for the navy’s use, so I ask for your understanding on that point.”
But to not use submarines at all was to discard one of the few assets the German navy could boast. Moreover, Dönitz was an exceptionally competent admiral, so this was the compromise I had found.
Unlike in the original history, where he had to practically beg Göring for a handful of seaplanes, we were allocating a significant number of specialized naval reconnaissance seaplanes.
The plan was to use British-provided radar technology and seaplanes to identify enemy convoys first, then attack using the wolf pack tactic devised by Dönitz—a coordinated attack by multiple submarines.
Of course, how effective it would be in actual combat remained to be seen, but we would have to try it and make improvements as we went.
“Understood, Vice-Chancellor.”
The problem was that in the original history, the submarine fleet had defied Hitler's orders to abide by international law and conducted unrestricted submarine warfare on their own...
At least Admiral Dönitz was being relatively cooperative, knowing that I had opposed the initial construction plan that completely excluded submarines, leading to their inclusion.
Of course, after the attempted coup by the three military branches, I couldn't just trust what I saw, but I could perhaps view this as a slightly positive development.
“It is now time for the first test firing.”
As we were talking, the Bismarck moved sufficiently far from the port, and a naval officer handed binoculars to the emperor and me.
I felt sorry for the joyous-looking Admiral Raeder, but I truly couldn't hide my worries about this navy.
The submarine fleet was one thing, but hadn't the Bismarck in the original history been sunk after disobeying orders to avoid engagement?
In any case, the sight of the magnificent battleship turning its massive turrets, seen through the binoculars, was certainly a grand spectacle.
And then, thunder struck.
As the massive main guns fired in unison, a sound like literal thunder erupted, the sea seemed to tear apart, and the great ship's hull shuddered. The sight made me feel as if I could understand the hearts of big-gun battleship advocates, if only for a moment.
“Ooh... truly majestic.”
To see the usually stoic Wilhelm III's eyes light up in admiration at a moment like this made me wonder if such things were passed down through blood.
Wilhelm II's obsession with big-gun battleships was quite famous. Speaking of which, I wondered if that mustachioed Kaiser was still railing against our new government and his own son's legitimacy.
“Whoa-!”
My thoughts were shattered by the disconcerted cries from the naval high command.
I raised my binoculars again and couldn't hide my shock at the sight. Smoke was rising from the Bismarck's radar.
“....”
What the hell? Did it just get damaged by the shockwave from a single salvo of its own main guns?
“M-my apologies, Your Majesty. We will investigate immediately to see if there is a design flaw.”
Seeing Admiral Raeder break out in a cold sweat, I couldn't help but feel a pang of pity.
“Well, let’s just chalk it up to warding off bad luck.”
Wilhelm III, who was particularly lenient when it came to the navy and battleships, let it slide, but I had to struggle to suppress a sigh that was about to burst forth. Damn it, that radar costs as much as several tanks!
Our navy... is it going to be okay?
-
June 18, 1940
London, Capital of the United Kingdom
“The pride of the Royal Navy is in a sorry state, Prime Minister. We are at the point where we may have to cut the sailors’ pay!”
The face of Admiral Dudley Pound, the First Sea Lord of the world's strongest navy, the Royal Navy, was filled with discontent and worry.
“I understand the navy’s situation, First Sea Lord. But in an era of peace, mustn't the navy also adapt? We still possess the most powerful fleet in the world.”
Dudley Pound couldn't hide his urge to scoff at Halifax’s remark.
Halifax was a competent diplomat and domestic statesman, but having served in the army, he had no interest in the navy.
“Prime Minister, I won’t deny that our navy is the strongest, but most of our capital ships are aging. The construction of the new KGV-class battleships is delayed due to budget shortages, while France has commissioned the Richelieu and Germany the Bismarck.”
Admiral Pound and the Royal Navy were burning with anxiety, but Halifax treated it as a trivial matter.
“Hasn't it been concluded that the Bismarck is not particularly threatening for its displacement due to its outdated design philosophy, Admiral? Besides, even if the Richelieu is new, the number of capital ships in the French navy is less than half that of the Royal Navy.”
If anything, Halifax inwardly disapproved of the navy, which, despite already possessing transcendent power, was not satisfied unless it was supreme in the performance of every single ship.
Germany itself made no secret of the fact that its navy was a tin can with bloated displacement, and France was, after all, an ally.
The enemies they were meant to fight had vanished after the Great War. For how long must the nation bear such enormous expenditures for the sake of their pride?
“I understand the navy’s sentiment, but the budget currently allocated to it is by no means small. While the Royal Navy is the pride of Britain, you must understand that it is also a great burden on our finances.”
“But Prime Minister, the current budget is woefully insufficient to maintain our existing forces, build new ships, and conduct training. Without constant maintenance and training, we cannot maintain our current strength!”
Admiral Pound was about to explode with anger, but Halifax remained calm.
“Then what needs to be cut must be cut. The British Navy is still the world's finest. Germany has become a pro-British nation, so much so that they voluntarily announce they are not a threat, and France has shown they have no intention of antagonizing us by withdrawing from Italy as we demanded.”
Looking at the thoroughly displeased Admiral Pound, Halifax smiled wryly, as if looking at a relic of a bygone era, and spoke.
“This is an era of peace, Admiral. Britain cannot carry such a heavy burden forever simply to protect its pride.”
-
After Admiral Dudley Pound departed with a furious expression, Halifax pressed his hand to his forehead, looking weary.
His conviction that they could not afford wasteful military spending in this era of peace was firm, but the warmongers of a bygone age constantly tormented him.
Wasn't it absurd to want to maintain a fleet of over fifteen battleships, each costing an astronomical sum to build, and to keep them all at the cutting edge of technology?
It had been possible when Britain was the empire on which the sun never set, and when there were rival nations to overwhelm.
But Britain was no longer such an empire, and the cost of maintaining its bloated navy and colonies was a significant burden.
If they had that kind of money, it would be better to invest it in the motherland or the Dominions still struggling in the aftermath of the Great Depression, thereby strengthening the unity of the Commonwealth.
Besides, with the fires of the independence movement spreading in India, how much money was needed to reinforce security there? How long could they keep feeding the pride of these men?
But contrary to Halifax’s expectations, the shadow of war was drawing steadily closer.
“The French army is on the move in large numbers, you say?”
“Yes, Prime Minister. It's a report from MI6.”
Halifax took the report and narrowed his eyes as he examined it.
The report pointed to one conclusion: large-scale French forces were being deployed to northern France, specifically near naval ports.
Halifax read the report, his look of bewilderment unwavering. What was the reason for this? A simple military exercise? Or perhaps—
Finally, Halifax’s eyes fell upon the end of the report, and he let out a short, humorless laugh at MI6’s assessment.
[Based on the movements above, the possibility of the French military conducting a large-scale joint army-navy-air force operation cannot be ruled out.]
“Honestly, these warmongers are so desperate to stir up paranoia and increase the military budget again.”
Halifax crumpled the report in his hand, then sighed and smoothed it out again.
He was thoroughly exhausted by the machinations of these warmongers, but he possessed enough flexibility as a national leader to seriously consider the possibility.
If this report were true, he couldn't completely rule out the chance, however slim, that it was a hostile action aimed at Britain.
But Britain and France were allies. Even if it was only nominal and their relations were strained, would they suddenly go mad and attack an ally?
Moreover, the power of the Royal Navy was overwhelming. As long as the seas were under British control, there were almost no nations that could truly threaten Britain.
“Perhaps they plan an amphibious landing against Germany while it’s focused on the Italian front.”
*Doesn't seem like a very wise idea. It’s not like it’s Churchill.* Halifax thought of Churchill’s angry face and smirked.
Britain, more than any other nation, knew the difficulties and potential for massive casualties in an amphibious assault, thanks to the lessons of Gallipoli.
Halifax tapped his fingers on the desk—*tok, tok*—lost in thought.
If this suspicious French movement was real, the proper course of action would be to consult with the cabinet, the military, and Parliament to prepare for any contingency.
The problem was that, whether it was true or not, the military, already disgruntled with the current disarmament, would immediately start demanding an increase in the military budget the moment he brought it up.
Then, all the disarmament he had painstakingly pursued throughout his term, struggling against hawkish warmongers, would lose all meaning.
Furthermore, France had just proven it had no intention of severing diplomatic ties with Britain by pulling back from Italy.
Would any politician choose to upend all the policies they had built, based on uncertain information, on the grounds that an ally might be about to do something crazy?
In the end, after much deliberation, Halifax gave his instructions.
“We need a more definitive assessment of this. Tell MI6 to investigate for more concrete evidence and a potential target.”
“Understood, Prime Minister.”
For him, it was the best decision, made cautiously and based on the situation and common sense.
But history has also shown that the best choice does not always yield the best result.