Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Advance Without Fear (3)
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"What the hell is that thing hitting?!"
No one was more flustered than Admiral Montgomery at the sight of the Venezuelan cruiser, which seemed to have taken a direct hit to its magazine, blazing fiercely as it slowly sank into the sea.
The captain of SMS Friedrich der Große, Eugen Kalau von Hofe, who had given the firing order, and his executive officer, Maximilian von Spee, were equally shaken, their pupils dilating wildly.
"The order was for warning shots! Not to blow the enemy protected cruiser out of the water!"
"S-Sorry, Captain. It seems there was a miscalculation in plotting the firing coordinates."
"Do you think 'sorry' covers this?!"
Spee shouted at his subordinates like that, but inwardly, he blamed himself for not opposing the premature commissioning of Friedrich der Große to the bitter end.
His crew was still inexperienced in handling this massive state-of-the-art battleship.
"Come on now, regretting it won't change anything."
True to his veteran status, Captain Hofe quickly regained his composure, and Spee stopped berating his men.
The captain was right. What was done was done.
Now, Maximilian von Spee and the crew of Friedrich der Große had to focus on the future barreling toward them, not the unchangeable past.
'At least we're not the only ones in chaos.'
Neither the Venezuelan Navy nor the U.S. Navy had anticipated Friedrich der Große sinking a cruiser out of the blue; they showed no movement whatsoever.
Who could have predicted such a turn of events?
In any case, Spee was a capable naval officer, and he knew they couldn't squander this golden opportunity.
"Captain. With things as they are, we need to act now."
"Agreed. Leave the pesky Venezuelan fleet to the other ships. We'll keep the Americans in check."
"Aye! Signal SMS Vineta, Falke, Gazelle, Panther, and Stosch to attack the Venezuelan fleet immediately!"
"What about the British and Italian fleets?"
"The British and Italians won't even have time to check signals right now."
Spee muttered as he adjusted his cap's brim.
Soon, the attack flag rose on SMS Friedrich der Große, spotted by the other German ships.
"Attack signal from Friedrich der Große! Hit the Venezuelan fleet now!"
"Attack the Venezuelans? Ha! Not content with starting the fire themselves, they want to fan the flames too?"
"Captain, what are your orders?"
"What else? We're in it now, so let's join the party. Full steam ahead. This ship charges the Venezuelan fleet."
No objections.
Soon, the German cruisers Vineta, Falke, Gazelle, Panther, and the gunboat Stosch belched thick black coal smoke from their stacks and surged toward the Venezuelan Navy in unison.
"What the damn hell are those Kraut bastards doing?!"
Of course, Admiral Montgomery spat fury with bloodshot eyes at the German fleet charging ahead without consultation.
But Captain Hofe issued the next order regardless.
"Secure a favorable position against the U.S. fleet. Engines full ahead! Hard starboard!"
"Engines maximum! Hard starboard!"
Kiririk──Clunk!
As the helmsman spun the wheel halfway to starboard, the navigator yanked the engine telegraph lever to full ahead.
Friedrich der Große cleaved through the waves, surging forward while slowly turning right.
"Admiral! The German battleship is changing course toward the U.S. fleet!"
"I see it. Damn it, why is that X-shaped battleship so fast?!"
Until now, Friedrich der Große had been throttling back to match her allies' speed.
But as she unleashed her true speed, Admiral Montgomery felt like he'd been clubbed over the head again.
The reason was obvious: steam turbines—the latest British propulsion tech, of all things.
'Steam turbines useless on large ships?'
Montgomery suddenly wanted to shoot every so-called Naval Lords elite who'd dismissed Dreadnought.
'Admiral Fisher was right.'
He regretted not heeding Fisher properly.
But the admiral pulled himself together and stared ahead.
The situation was too dire to worry about the Royal Navy's future.
"The Italian fleet is following the Germans toward the Venezuelans!"
"Admiral, orders!"
"...The Venezuelans can handle themselves. From now on, the British fleet shadows Friedrich der Große."
True to his seasoned sailor instincts, Montgomery grasped Captain Hofe's intent immediately.
And that it was the best call right now.
Though he itched to punch Hofe for botching a warning shot into a sinking...
'Battle first.'
Public and private had to be separated in this mess.
"Uwaaaah! Uwaaaaaah!"
"The enemy fleet's coming!"
"Retreat! Retreat! Run if you want to live!"
Meanwhile, the Venezuelan Navy, having watched their flagship explode from a single salvo, lost all will to fight at the European fleet's sudden charge and began fleeing en masse.
Had their admiral survived, maybe not—but he'd perished with the cruiser.
Shooooom────Boom!
The German captains weren't ones to let enemy chaos go to waste.
Somehow at the van of the European fleet, the Germans tore into the Venezuelans like wolves. Ear-splitting thunder and geysers of water shattered Venezuelan morale in real time.
The U.S. fleet, finally snapping to, rushed to halt what could hardly be called a battle—a massacre.
Boom! Bang!
But as if the ex-USS Philadelphia sinking wasn't luck alone, Friedrich der Große's harassing fire from beyond U.S. range halted them again.
After that, it was a rout.
The European fleet easily hunted the fleeing Venezuelans.
In under 30 minutes, most Venezuelan ships were sunk. A handful limped toward Puerto Cabello, too damaged to continue.
Only the U.S. fleet remained.
"Form up around Friedrich der Große!"
Admiral Montgomery, peering through binoculars at the U.S. fleet—pinned idle by Friedrich der Große amid the Venezuelan annihilation—issued orders.
The Americans, wary of her, had brought their scant battleships, outnumbering the Europeans.
But Friedrich der Große—hate to admit it—overpowered every ship present.
Thus, Montgomery prioritized protecting the European fleet's joker, the Americans' biggest threat: SMS Friedrich der Große.
Soon, the European fleet formed up on his signal, facing off against the U.S. fleet in a tense, gunless standoff.
"...That bastard Roosevelt. When I get back, he won't hear the end of it."
Standing on the bridge of his flagship USS Massachusetts, Admiral George Dewey glared at the European fleet opposing the U.S. one and mentally shredded the president who'd sent him to Venezuela.
But no officer dared restrain the legendary U.S. Navy hero in his rage.
Too scared of repercussions—and secretly sharing his fury.
"But Admiral, we can't just sit here."
"I know. I get it."
When someone mustered courage to speak, Dewey grumbled in reply.
Dewey and the U.S. fleet were in a frustrating bind.
Roosevelt's original orders: Pressure the Europeans, disrupt their Venezuelan blockade.
Wear down Britain (eager to settle Venezuela quick) and Germany (leery of Anglo-American friction), curb European influence in the Americas, tilt the board U.S.-ward.
Until moments ago, the U.S. fleet had faithfully blocked the Europeans from the Venezuelans.
Then Friedrich der Große's salvo warped everything.
Hitting the ex-USS Philadelphia—gifted to Venezuela—dead on, events spiraled beyond Dewey's expectations.
"The British must be blind as well as foul-mouthed."
Dewey muttered sourly, recalling Royal Navy assessments of the German newbuild.
Harmless?
What had they been smoking?
U.S. intel was pathetic too, blindly following British leads without verification.
In any case, SMS Friedrich der Große was a monster no Massachusetts—nor any pre-existing battleship—could match.
Previous battleships maxed out at 6 miles (about 9 km) engagement range.
Beyond that, hits were near impossible.
But pre-firing, Friedrich der Große to Venezuelan flagship was roughly 10 miles (16 km).
And she'd sunk it in one salvo.
Luck played a part for greenhorns, but attempting long-range meant confidence in hitting.
No confidence, no shot.
'And that speed.'
Turning toward the U.S. fleet, she'd hit near 20 knots (37 km/h).
Massachusetts' design top speed: 15 knots (28 km/h). Lightning-fast for a battleship.
'If she'd kept charging the Europeans without stopping, we wouldn't have escaped unscathed.'
So Dewey unhesitatingly abandoned the Venezuelans.
The U.S. fleet wasn't here to aid them anyway.
No such loyalty.
Dewey and company came to remind Monroe Doctrine-ignorant Europe: Hands off the Americas. And the U.S. ain't what she used to be.
Abandoning the pressure now directly defied the president.
"Tch. No choice. Hoist the retreat flag."
But Dewey ordered withdrawal without hesitation.
"You sure? President Roosevelt won't like it."
"I know Roosevelt. If he were here, he'd make the same call."
With that behemoth, fighting meant U.S. fleet annihilation at minimum.
Even channeling his favorite novel's hero, "Admiral Yi"—fight to live or die trying.
To Dewey, the math didn't add up.
No invasion justified sacrificing U.S. Navy core for Venezuela.
"Head home, gentlemen. Our job's done."
On Dewey's command, the U.S. fleet weighed anchor and turned about in unison.
Thus ended Friedrich der Große's baptism of fire.
And Venezuela's fate was sealed.