Chapter 47
Chapter 47
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: The First Dreadnought (3)
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“Hmm. There are no mistakes in this report, are there?”
“Of course not, Minister Balfour.”
First Lord of the Treasury Arthur Balfour double-checked the reports from the naval attachés dispatched to Germany, while First Sea Lord Walter Kerr nodded confidently in affirmation.
“According to our officers, we understand the design philosophy behind the German Navy's new battleship, but it's so outdated compared to our current doctrine that it can't possibly perform as claimed. Contrary to what the Germans are boasting, it looks like nothing more than a flashy shell with no substance.”
Admiral Kerr said with a faint sneer.
The German Empire's new battleship, SMS Friedrich der Große—which the British simply called the Dreadnought after its provisional name due to its lengthy official title—was clearly developed with long-range gunnery in mind.
But long-range gunnery itself had almost no practical utility in actual combat.
That was why Admiral Kerr could only mock the Germans' folly, which was no different from France's Jeune École.
“They've even removed all the intermediate-caliber guns except for the main and secondary batteries.”
“What's the problem with that?”
“Well, it only lowers the ship's overall hit rate.”
Traditionally, battleships were fitted with intermediate guns—smaller than the mains but larger than the secondaries—to compensate for the main battery's poor accuracy, crammed on wherever possible.
Yet the German Dreadnoughts, for whatever reason, had none at all.
“The stepped turret layout is innovative enough, but what's the point if the guns can't hit anything?”
“Hmm.”
“And whether steam turbines will even work effectively on a large battleship is highly questionable.”
Steam turbines were just starting to be used in the Royal Navy on destroyers that were little more than oversized torpedo boats.
Admiral Kerr knew turbines were superior to reciprocating engines, but would they really work on something as massive as a battleship?
Honestly, I doubt it.
Even if turbines dramatically boosted a battleship's speed, it wouldn't be a game-changer.
Steam turbines were a British invention, after all.
If they proved effective on battleships, Britain could just slap them on its own.
“In any case, to sum up the Navy's conclusion: the Dreadnought is little more than the Kaiser's flashy toy boat. A more detailed assessment will have to wait until after its sea trials and commissioning.”
But the outcome wouldn't change.
That was what Admiral Kerr believed.
“Whew. With all the anxious voices from above, even I was starting to worry. But this is a relief.”
Only after Admiral Kerr's firm declaration could the future Prime Minister of the British Empire finally breathe a sigh of relief.
His decision to trust the Navy's judgment had been spot on, as always.
The German Navy wouldn't amount to much, just as I thought.
Britain had dominated the seas for decades, centuries even.
For the German Navy—which lacked any real naval tradition—to catch up now was the stuff of pipe dreams.
The real threat to Britain isn't the German Empire, but the Russian Empire.
Much like in original history, where he downplayed the German threat to focus on Britain's longtime foe, Russia, Balfour muttered inwardly and shook Admiral Kerr's hand with a satisfied smile.
“Then I'll head back to the Admiralty. I've got a meeting.”
“Ah, yes. I'm off to Buckingham myself to deliver this report to His Majesty.”
It should have been the Prime Minister, Marquess of Salisbury's job, but the marquess's condition had deteriorated to the point where he could barely move, and he'd finally announced his resignation.
Arthur Balfour had unanimous cabinet support as his official successor, so while his letterhead hadn't changed yet, he was effectively Britain's Prime Minister already.
The Boer War ended in victory, and His Majesty's coronation will happen on my watch. My approval ratings are rock-solid—no worries there.
Balfour smiled broadly at his stroke of luck, paving a smooth path ahead unimpeded.
He would become a great Prime Minister.
One who surpassed his uncle, Marquess of Salisbury, and Salisbury's mentor, Disraeli.
Even the nagging issue of Germany's new battleship was now resolved. Nothing left to fret over.
However, not everyone in Britain dismissed the Dreadnought like Balfour and Admiral Kerr.
“Are you kidding me? We're screwed. Screwed, I tell you! How can you not see that?!”
“Admiral Fisher. This is a gathering of admirals. Mind your language.”
Back at the Admiralty, Admiral Kerr's words drew a glare from John Arbuthnot Fisher, who had recently been promoted from Mediterranean Fleet commander to Second Sea Lord.
“Do I look like I'm in the mood to watch my language? The government and even our own Royal Navy admirals aren't batting an eye at the Leviathan the Germans have unleashed?!”
“Now, now, Admiral Fisher! Didn't you read the report saying the Dreadnought poses no threat to the British Empire?”
“That report is worthless. It's a superficial hack job slathered in bias—pure garbage!”
Bam!
Unable to contain his fury, Admiral Fisher slammed his fist on the conference table and raised his voice.
True to form as the man who birthed the Dreadnought class in original history, Fisher instantly grasped its value.
We can't let Germany monopolize the Dreadnought!
If they did, Britain's naval supremacy wouldn't just waver—it would collapse.
Britain needed to adopt it immediately!
But the Royal Navy and Admiral Kerr rejected Fisher's pleas.
The Dreadnought's core—all-big-gun armament and fire control for long-range gunnery—directly contradicted the prevailing short-to-medium-range doctrine.
Not only was long-range gunnery dismissed as impractical, but the Royal Navy, influenced by its greatest admiral Nelson and Trafalgar's close-quarters legacy, couldn't easily embrace the concept.
That was why, in proper history, Britain only adopted it after Fisher became First Sea Lord and Tsushima's lessons elevated long-range gunnery.
But now, without Tsushima, perceptions remained negative, and Fisher was only newly Second Sea Lord—lacking influence.
Undeterred by the cold stares, Fisher pressed on fervently.
“The Germans, unlike us, have already grasped the Dreadnought's value.”
He pulled a book from his pocket and waved it.
Immortal Admiral Yi.
This recent hit among Royal Navy officers had stunned Fisher.
The Japanese Navy—the villains—relied on close-quarters tactics with speedy maneuvers.
But Admiral Yi overwhelmed them throughout the war with long-range gunnery.
It matched Fisher's own concepts and the Dreadnought's design philosophy perfectly.
That the Korean Navy had used such tactics in the 16th century left Fisher astonished.
Admiral Yi already knew.
And so did the Germans.
The book was written by a German noble, after all.
“Reports say the Imperial Navy has already started building the next Dreadnought.”
If Germany kept pulling ahead, Britain's sea dominance was doomed.
He had to stop it.
“It's not too late. Please reconsider...”
“And if it backfires, will you take responsibility? Building new battleships isn't child's play. Enough with the nonsense!”
Already on bad terms with Fisher, Kerr cut him off with near-insulting words, unable to bear more.
Argh! These stubborn fools. Can't they see the tide of history?
Fisher clutched his neck, blood boiling at Kerr's intransigence.
The Navy's paradigm was shifting fast.
How could this man not see that falling behind meant the end?
Yet Kerr's stance remained rock-solid despite Fisher's outrage.
“Even if—and it's a big if—we adopt the Dreadnought. Do you think Parliament will approve an unproven, dubious ship so easily? I stake my neck on it: they won't.”
This highlighted the German-British divide.
Germany, ostensibly constitutional but practically absolutist, let the Kaiser force through Dreadnoughts despite parliamentary opposition.
Britain required Parliament's approval for new ships—no shortcuts.
“The reports say this Dreadnought costs several times a normal battleship.”
Just a few years prior,
When the Royal Navy begged Vickers not to sell the superior Mikasa to Japan, Vickers's cheeky “Buy it yourselves” left them speechless.
The Royal Navy was the world's largest by numbers, but maintaining it left no budget for new designs—they were always scraping by.
“With that money for one Dreadnought, we could build several battleships.”
“Damn it! Why won't you understand? We're running out of time. Too late already!”
Fisher, who knew the Dreadnought's worth, was desperate.
If Germany kept churning them out, there'd be no turning back.
The seas would no longer belong to Britain.
And a Britain without the seas wouldn't be the British Empire.
Bang!
“Emergency!”
As Fisher prepared to stake his rank on one last push for Dreadnoughts, a junior officer burst in without knocking.
It was grossly improper, and the admirals' faces hardened instantly.
“What is this insolence? Can't you see we're in a meeting?!”
“S-Sorry, sirs. But it's extremely urgent.”
“Hoo, what is it?”
Kerr grimaced at “urgent news” and gestured for the officer to speak.
The officer belatedly threw a sloppy salute and blurted it out.
“Cable from America: Venezuelan Navy has seized our ship, The Queen!”
“...What?”
Who seized whose ship?
Kerr echoed in disbelief at the absurdity.
Fisher and the others reacted the same.
“Is that what I think I heard? Venezuela seizing a British ship by force?”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
“Reason?”
Fisher, already at his rage limit from clashing with Kerr, asked in a voice dripping ice.
His mind had cooled amid the fury.
The officer shivered involuntarily at Fisher's aura but swallowed hard to steady himself.
“According to the Venezuelan government, aiding rebels. But we haven't confirmed yet.”
“Those Venezuelan bastards have lost their minds!”
“A puny South American backwater daring to touch the British Empire?!”
The admirals pounded the table, roaring in fury.
Whether the ship aided rebels didn't matter.
Venezuela—a nation already irking Britain by defaulting on debts—had seized a British vessel.
This was tantamount to a declaration of war.
“Admiral Kerr! Urgent summons from Downing Street.”
Another officer rushed in, confirming the crisis's gravity.
“Looks like no one's thinking about the Dreadnought for a while.”
Kerr whispered to Fisher as he exited.
Fisher could only groan, unable to retort.
The Dreadnought wasn't Britain's problem now.
Venezuelan Crisis.
A massive hurricane began swirling around a tiny South American nation flipping off Europe's great powers.
And the German Empire stood at its eye.