Chapter 187: Our Sea (3)
Chapter 187: Our Sea (3)
Anyone in Korea who has properly completed the compulsory elementary and middle school education and does not suffer from mental illness has likely heard the words “weathering” and “erosion” in science textbooks.
It is a very basic truth: no matter how solid and sturdy a rock may be, if gentle wind and water strike it for decades, it eventually breaks apart and crumbles.
But what if the thing being struck is not a rock but wood?
And what if the thing striking it is not soft wind and water but iron cannonballs fired from enormous cannons at tremendous speed?
Splash!!
“Bring wooden planks and hammers!! Block it up no matter what!!”
“If this ship sinks, you die, I die, everyone on this ship dies!”
“Nails! Where are the nails?!”
Seawater poured through cracks in the shattered wooden hull while the technical officers swarmed over it, repeatedly fastening fresh oak planks into place.
No matter how tough, strong, and high-quality Scandinavian timber might be, wood was still wood. After several minutes of bombardment from massive iron cannonballs, it was only natural for it to break apart—whether varnished or lacquered.
Now suddenly attacked from three directions, the decks of HMS Agamemnon were turning into utter chaos, both above and below.
“Allison! Raise the signal flag! Tell HMS Zealous to come alongside immediately!”
“Aye aye, sir!”
Of course, the captain commanding the Agamemnon was not foolish enough to merely watch that chaos and do nothing.
“Helmsman!! Hard to starboard! Hard to starboard! Zealous must save the Agamemnon!!”
“If we change course carelessly, the friendly ship behind us could ram us!”
“That’s right! And if you leave the line of battle, you could be summoned to a court-martial later!”
“Damn it, damn it! Change the signal flags for the rear ships quickly!”
The sluggish handling characteristic of sailing ships—and the limits of an era where every order had to be conveyed by signal flags because radios did not exist—
“Ships one and two will draw the enemy’s left wing and withdraw from the battlefield first! Whip them or bite them—whatever it takes, drag as many of their left wing with you as possible!
The rest of the fleet will launch a full assault on the enemy’s right wing! Do not allow the following ships to close with the enemy flagship under any circumstances! No matter how many casualties there are, it does not matter! Sink the flagship and withdraw immediately!”
“Ura!!”
Naturally, the commander of the Russian Imperial Navy was not foolish enough to ignore the situation either.
Even if only two sides existed—those trying to break through and those trying to block—the battlefield would already be chaotic. Now both sides had to attack in one direction while defending another.
The sea north of Corsica quickly descended into utter pandemonium.
But one thing both sides understood clearly.
—HMS Agamemnon was in danger.
“There are already twenty casualties in the sickbay! We have no anesthetic rum left!”
“Send all the French cognac in my cabin below deck!”
“Admiral! Only half of the repair timber remains! At this rate, damage control will be impossible in five minutes!”
“Strip any spare timber you can find—from the captain’s cabin, the officers’ quarters, anywhere! If the ship sinks it’ll be useless anyway!”
“Aye aye, sir!”
“Hold on! If we hold on, we win!!”
“Aye aye, sir!!!”
Nelson picked up the sword he had dropped earlier when the rigging struck him and raised it where everyone could see.
“Hold on! If we hold on, we win!!”
“Aye aye, sir!!!”
He could not die here.
Dying gloriously after defeating a massive enemy fleet for the sake of the nation would be one thing.
But dying to that petty Russian admiral who only fired from afar like a coward?
That was not a fitting end for Horatio Nelson.
At that moment—
“Admiral! A friendly ship of the line is approaching from the rear!”
“Of course it is! Do you think Horatio Nelson would die here?! Well then—HMS Captain? HMS Zealous? Which ship is it?!”
“It’s even larger! It’s the Guillaume Tell!”
“…What?! Our VIP?!”
This… this was unexpected.
If even a single hair on the head of a foreign prime minister were harmed—
—Nelson. Perhaps I have entrusted you with too great a responsibility. Was protecting a foreign prime minister truly such a difficult task?
—No, First Lord of the Admiralty! Absolutely not!
—Because of you, the trust between Britain and France has been shattered. I never wish to see your face again. Spend the rest of your life quietly in your house in Norfolk.
—No!!
Nelson’s eyes darted around wildly. For a moment he was speechless, then his face twisted as if the thought alone were unbearable.
“Damn it! If that man even gets injured, my head will roll!”
How hard had he worked to obtain this opportunity? He could not return to the reserves and spend the rest of his days sitting at home watching his children.
“God the Father. His Majesty the King, Your representative. King Arthur. Wizard King Merlin. Please, all of you, have mercy on this poor Nelson…”
Whether Nelson recited prayers he never normally used—mixing the Lord’s Prayer with every deity he could think of or not—the dependable Guillaume Tell was already cutting through the waves and racing toward the battlefield.
The moment my order was given, Major Lucas and the sailors aboard the Guillaume Tell grinned as they pushed cannons into the gunports and raised the anchor.
The Guillaume Tell carrying me was now passing through the middle ranks of the Royal Navy and approaching the line of battle.
The Royal Navy was resisting well with disciplined formations, but the crossfire from the enemy made advancing extremely difficult.
Once a line formation collapsed, it was extremely difficult to restore it—so the British were likely fighting desperately to maintain it.
Fortunately, the Guillaume Tell had been sitting far back in the rear.
Because of that, we could ignore the formation entirely, raise the sails, and rush straight toward the Agamemnon.
Formations? Lines of battle?
I’m infantry—I don’t know any of that. Just ram straight in. If you ram into them, you’ll probably win somehow.
Of course, that would be madness if I were aboard a third-rate ship of the line instead of a first-rate one.
But when you’re riding a hero battlecruiser with +3 attack and +3 defense, what is there to fear? I’m Jim Raynor, after all.
“Helmsman! Five degrees to port! Open the starboard gunports in advance!”
“The major says open the starboard gunports!”
The officers and sailors moved together with perfect coordination.
Just how furious were they to be working this smoothly?
“Battle preparations complete, first officer!”
“Good! We’ll circle around the starboard side of the Agamemnon and take the enemy fire in their place! Distribute repair timber in advance so we can fix damage immediately!”
“Yes, sir!”
After the deck officer descended, Major Lucas turned to me.
“Your Excellency. Cannonballs will be flying soon. Perhaps you should wait in the captain’s cabin.”
“If I go into the captain’s cabin, will I definitely survive?”
“Well… no. But usually important people stay inside.”
“If a stray cannonball hits you, you die anyway. If life and death depend on luck, I’ll stay here with you and the sailors. If Guillaume de Toulon stands beside them, won’t the sailors gain courage?”
“…We will win without fail, Your Excellency.”
Major Lucas nodded solemnly, clearly moved, then went below deck to handle some tasks.
Yes. Build morale, put on a bit of swagger. When some high-ranking official sits there declaring, ‘I share your fate. If we live, we live together. If we die, we die together!’ no soldier would fail to feel his fighting spirit ignite.
I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and, this time shielding it inside my coat so the wind would not blow the flame out, lit it and took a drag.
Inhale. Exhale.
As nicotine flowed through my veins, I drew a deep breath and smelled the acrid scent of gunpowder.
No.
It would be more accurate to call it the smell of death.
“What a thing war is.”
I took another long drag and flicked the cigarette into the sea.
One minute later, the Guillaume Tell entered the battlefield. I had thrown it away at exactly the right time.
“Fire!”
At the petty officer’s command, the sailors brought the slow match to the cannon.
Sssss!
Boom!!
With a thunderous roar, the cannons recoiled.
The fifty cannons on the starboard side of the Guillaume Tell hurled fifty iron cannonballs directly into the side of the Russian eighth ship, which had been bombarding the Agamemnon.
“Aaaaagh!!! Surgeon! Surgeooon!!”
“Flooding on the first deck! Flooding!”
“Casualties are inevitable! Stay calm and keep firing at the enemy flagship!”
“They’re firing again!!”
“What?!”
The Russian eighth ship, armed with seventy cannons, was struck in an instant by a broadside nearly equal to seventy percent of its own armament. Chaos erupted aboard.
“Allies!! The French have arrived!!”
“Look at the size of that thing! It must fire a hell of a lot of cannonballs!”
“Now is our chance while the allies buy us time! Cease engagement temporarily and focus on rescuing the wounded and repairing damage!”
“Yes, Admiral!”
The sailors of the Agamemnon and Nelson wasted no time. They quickly repaired the battered ship.
“Report from ship eight! Damage is too severe!”
“Admiral Ushakov! The enemy first-rate ship of the line has joined the battle!”
“Blyat! Just a little longer and we could have destroyed their flagship!”
In frustration, Ushakov slammed his fist onto the table with a loud bang.
The Russian fleet was already at a disadvantage. If a first-rate ship of the line had now joined the battle, there was no longer any chance of victory.
Even if they sank the flagship, the moment that monstrous ship caught a favorable wind, the entire Russian fleet could be sent to the bottom.
“Turn forty degrees southeast and disengage completely. Remove iron shot from the guns and prepare grapeshot. Target the enemy sails. Slow their pursuit.”
“Where shall we head?”
“The northern route to Genoa is already blocked by the enemy. We sail east—to the Ionian Sea.”
“Ura!!”
“…Sigh.”
Ushakov let out a long sigh, then called an officer.
“Send a courier vessel to Marshal Suvorov.”
“What message shall we send?”
There was a long silence.
Then a weak voice answered.
“…Tell him… the sea has been taken.”
Corsica.
“And? Go on.”
“…Admiral Ushakov will be unable to resupply ammunition and cannonballs for the time being—”
“Hmm. How long is ‘for the time being’?”
“Until all damaged hulls are repaired in the Ionian Sea, we can only operate frigates, Your Excellency.”
At that moment, a soldier ran into the Russian command headquarters.
“General! The French artillery batteries have begun bombarding our axis!”
“…Kutuzov.”
“Yes, Suvorov.”
“We abandon the axis. The enemy is not the sort to throw themselves against our defensive line.”
“…Understood, Suvorov.”
Suvorov set down the fork and knife he had been using to cut his steak and let out a groan.
He had lost his appetite.