Chapter 168
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 168
Chapter Title: Baltic Fleet VS Baltic Fleet (1)
“I didn’t want to be forced into launching like this.”
August 28, 1913.
Admiral Essen let out a heavy sigh from atop his flagship, Gangut.
He had no choice. The current state of the Russian Baltic Fleet was akin to marching straight into the enemy’s trap of their own accord.
Knowing this full well, Admiral Essen had dragged his feet as much as possible, insisting on more preparations despite Tsar Nicholas II’s fury-boiling order to sortie after the bombing of Petrograd. But as things stood, even that had reached its limit.
The pressure had mounted yesterday when the German 9th Army landed troopships at Memel, forcing Rennenkampf’s 1st Army—which had been barely holding on in East Prussia—to begin its retreat. Admiral Essen could no longer stall under the pretext of preparations.
‘And my own position isn’t what it used to be.’
The root of it lay in Admiral Essen’s origins.
As his name, Nikolai Ottovich von Essen, suggested, he was a Baltic German. With the war against Germany underway, the standing of Baltic Germans was deteriorating solely due to their German blood.
Even before, as nationalism surged in Estonia and Latvia, the Baltic Germans had faced unkind glares from the Slavic nobility who dominated the Russian Empire. The war was like insult added to injury, and Admiral Essen could not escape those looks.
His Essen family had guarded Russia’s seas for over two centuries, earning the Order of St. George for seven members alone—pouring their blood and soul into loyal service to the Empire. Yet here he was.
For Admiral Essen, it was utterly unjust.
But the Imperial Navy’s relentless provocations continued to shake his already precarious position, forcing Admiral Essen and the Baltic Fleet out of harbor.
To clash with Prince Heinrich and the German Baltic Fleet waiting at the Gulf of Finland’s entrance.
‘Our chances aren’t great.’
Not unless the goddess of fortune favored them.
Just looking at battleship strength: aside from the four Ganguts, the Russian Baltic Fleet was packed with obsolete vessels. In contrast, the German Baltic Fleet boasted six Friedrich-class battleships and six battlecruisers.
“We’ll do what we can.”
Admiral Essen adjusted his cap and steeled his resolve once more.
He too was an admiral of Great Russia’s navy.
No matter the circumstances, with battle as the only path, he would face the crashing waves silently, as befitted a man of the Essen line.
“Admiral Heinrich, seaplanes have spotted the Russian Baltic Fleet. Approaching from 3 o’clock relative to our fleet.”
“The Ganguts?”
“Yes, sir. Flagship Gangut, plus Petropavlovsk number two, Sevastopol number three, and Poltava number four—all four confirmed.”
“Hahaha! Look at that, Reuter. Operating planes at sea—how convenient and splendid!”
“Yes, yes, I get it, so hurry up and give the orders. Our pilots are waiting, aren’t they?”
“What’s with you lately? Treating me so harshly.”
Whose fault do you think that is?
Prince Heinrich cleared his throat and turned away from Reuter’s sharp gaze.
“Ahem, Captain Boelcke.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
Wilhelm Boelcke—brother to the famed Oswald Boelcke of the Western Front and commander of the SMS Otto Lilienthal air wing—saluted impassively, as if accustomed to such banter between Prince Heinrich and Admiral Reuter. He then turned his eyes to the deck.
“All hands, attention!”
At Boelcke’s shout, the twenty-odd pilots dispatched from the Imperial Air Service to the Otto Lilienthal snapped to attention, faces tense.
“Today is a historic day, gentlemen.”
Prince Heinrich addressed the pilots lined up on the deck with a proud expression.
“As you all know, after we played a little with fire at their capital, the Russian Baltic Fleet has finally heaved its heavy backside out of port. Had they held out longer, I could’ve treated you to a tour of Petrograd, but that’ll have to wait for next time.”
“Hahaha!”
The pilots burst into laughter, taking the prince’s words as a joke.
Though his slight lip-smack of regret betrayed his sincerity.
“In any case, today you gentlemen will earn the honor of being the world’s first to strike an enemy fleet from the world’s first aircraft carrier. Your target is singular: the enemy flagship Gangut!”
Neutralize the enemy flagship to sow chaos in their fleet, then sweep the Russian Baltic Fleet in one go.
That was Prince Heinrich’s plan. The Otto Lilienthal pilots, thrilled that their moment had arrived, wore uniformly fervent expressions.
Fear? None. If they had any, they wouldn’t have volunteered for an aircraft carrier where every takeoff and landing risked their lives.
Of course, the far higher pay than the Imperial Air Service helped too.
In any event, if the army’s Imperial Air Service were sky knights and gentlemen, these men were bloodthirsty pirates and barbarians who knew no fear for their lives.
“I’d love to fly with you myself. Though I suspect the Reuter standing beside me wouldn’t let me.”
“Hahahaha!”
“So, in my stead, give their admiral a taste of hellfire and show them exactly who rules the Baltic Sea.”
“Jawohl!”
No more words were needed.
After a brief mission briefing, the Otto Lilienthal pilots headed to the windward deck and boarded the waiting Seeadler fighters.
The carrier-borne version of the Adler fighter, requested by Prince Heinrich from Wright & Co.—named “Sea Eagle” for the navy, as the army had its “Eagle.”
“First attack wave, ready for launch!”
“Clear the deck!”
Thud-thud-thud—
Officers’ shouts mingled with the whir of propellers starting up.
“Launch!”
Vroooom—!
Soon, twelve Sea Eagles lifted off the deck one by one, soaring into the slate-gray sky.
Their target: Gangut.
The flagship of the Russian Baltic Fleet, Gangut.
The atmosphere aboard the Russian Baltic Fleet’s flagship Gangut held the unease and tension of impending battle, but remained calm for now.
Not a single sign of the enemy fleet had been spotted—not even a mast on the horizon.
Even in this age of steel behemoths replacing sail, battles began when fleets sighted each other.
True, submarines—those assassins lurking beneath the waves—had entered naval warfare. But with friendly destroyers on high alert, there was no worry there.
Thus, Gangut’s sailors awaited the coming fight with bated breath, savoring what might be their last moments of peace.
Vroooooom—
“Hm?”
But that peace shattered with an unfamiliar drone from the horizon.
“What’s that...”
“Planes?”
Russian sailors poured onto the deck, eyes fixed on the aircraft approaching the fleet.
Not one or two.
About a dozen formed up and headed their way.
“What’s going on?”
“Admiral Essen, sir. Objects resembling aircraft approaching head-on from the fleet’s front.”
“Aircraft?”
Admiral Essen, stepping out to the bridge amid the growing clamor, cocked his head at the spotting officer’s report.
He knew what airplanes were.
But their appearance in the middle of the ocean was baffling.
“Enemy seaplanes?”
“Doesn’t seem so, sir. Word is the German Navy built an ‘aircraft carrier’ that operates planes at sea before the war. These look like they came from one.”
Admiral Essen furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar term “aircraft carrier.”
Indeed, all the bizarre contraptions came from the British or Germans.
“Seaplanes or planes, those little flies can’t do much to our fleet.”
“Yes, likely just scouting.”
“Means the enemy fleet’s close. We need to whip our destroyers and cruisers harder.”
“What about those planes?”
“If they get too close, drive them off with rifles.”
That was all they could do.
This era’s Baltic Fleet had no anti-aircraft armament.
“Huh? Wh-what?”
As Admiral Essen turned to head back to the bridge after issuing orders, puzzled murmurs from the sailors reached his ears.
Turning again, he saw the enemy planes slowly nosing down toward the sea surface.
“What are they doing?”
A vague unease stirring, Admiral Essen raised his binoculars.
But before he could make sense of it, the German planes released something from beneath their fuselages into the sea.
Splash! Hiss—!
“Wh-what?”
Torpedoes.
“E-evasive maneuvers! Evasive—!!”
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
“Battle stations! Battle stations!”
“Torpedoes! Torpedo attack!”
Admiral Essen’s ashen-faced shout echoed as the shrill general quarters alarm blared through Gangut.
The massive ship began ponderously turning, but a behemoth like the Friedrich-class moved sluggishly.
The torpedoes were already nearly at her side.
“Damn it, jump!”
Some sailors, sensing Gangut’s doom, leaped into the sea without hesitation.
And one second later.
KABOOM—!!
A massive explosion erupted, sending towering columns of water skyward along Gangut’s flank.
“Haha, great! Direct hit!”
Hermann Göring—Otto Lilienthal pilot and future Meier—cheered at the sight of Gangut settling by the stern amid the blasts.
He’d joined the Imperial Air Service in 1912 and volunteered for Otto Lilienthal for the pay. At first, he regretted the harsh carrier life.
Considering his original-history antics of throwing tantrums over the unfinished Graf Zeppelin, claiming the skies belonged to the Luftwaffe, one might call it karma.
But the adrenaline-fueled thrill surging through him now more than made up for the hardships of carrier duty.
Bang! Boom!
“Gah—! This is war!”
As Gangut rocked from a torpedo amidships, Göring grinned savagely.
Below, tiny officers and sailors scrambled to abandon ship.
“The mightiest king in the realm of air is the storm’s mighty eagle (Der mächtigste König im Luftrevier ist des Sturmes gewaltiger Aar).”
Unable to contain his excitement, Göring sang while shrugging his shoulders.
A song he’d picked up from the sailors—popular among submariners, they said.
Göring found it absurd.
It suited the sky-soaring Sea Eagles far more than submersibles.
[Kzzt! The birds tremble at the rush of his thundering wings (Die Vöglein erzittern, vernehmen sie nur sein rauschendes Flügelpaar)!]
Göring’s song crackled over the radio to the equally exhilarated pilots.
“Heh, Göring’s really fired up.”
“Can’t let him have all the fun.”
The Sea Eagles banked as one, leaving the listing Gangut behind, and joined the chorus.
[Tirala-la! Tirala-la! Tirala-la! Tirala-la! Hoy! Hoy!]
The singing reached the second attack wave from Otto Lilienthal as it overtook the returning first wave.
They smirked and dropped torpedoes to finish Gangut off for good.
[Yes, we are lords of the world and kings of the sea!]
“Admiral Heinrich! Success! Enemy flagship sunk!”
“Kuhahaha! Excellent, gentlemen. Full speed ahead! Time to finish off the Russian Baltic Fleet!”
“Jawohl!”
But the Baltic Fleet’s calamity was only beginning.