The Ruler of the Oceans
"Is it... over?"
"It is over, sir."
"Did we lose?"
"No, sir. We survived."
War was the compression of all the world's suffering, disaster, death, and screams into a single point. Yet, sometimes, war unexpectedly presented a spectacle that could only be described as magnificent. Despite standing at the polar opposite of a hymn to humanity, it possessed a majestic grandeur, like gazing upon the Tower of Babel. It was a profound irony that such civilization had advanced solely for the purpose of slaughtering the opposing side.
"It is truly... beautiful."
Admiral Hupper, who had barely escaped with his life, stared out at the distant horizon. A squadron of torpedo bombers glided serenely across the vast plains of the sky.
"Now... warfare will change once again," Erich Raeder murmured.
"Indeed. Those machines are the true rulers of the sea."
Stahl had brought many innovations to the military sphere, starting with his armored tractors. Yet none of those innovations could compare to this one. Even those who dismissed the importance of navies would have to acknowledge the sheer economic revolution of this development. From this day forward, battleships were nothing but floating tin cans. Naval artillery duels were relics of a bygone era. Just as the status of the infantryman had steadily declined since the advent of cavalry—to the point where a lone foot soldier stood no chance against advanced war machines—so too would it go for warships. Infantry would never truly vanish no matter how advanced warfare became, and neither would ships. However, it was now blindingly obvious that the true protagonist of the naval theater, once dominated by grand human endeavors, would be the airplane.
Erich Raeder envisioned a scene in his mind. Torpedo bombers soaring through that other ocean, the sky. Fighter planes scrambling to shoot them down. Warships providing support from the waters below. The primary battlefield of the navy was no longer the sea. This was even truer for them than it was for the army. The navy's true domain would henceforth be the vast, blue expanse of the heavens.
"That being said, the Kaisermarine has been completely decimated," Raeder noted.
"What does that matter? Is it not enough that we have witnessed the dawn of a new era?"
"I suppose you are right, Admiral. Ah, the Austro-Hungarian fleet is approaching!"
"Let us prepare to receive our guests with the utmost courtesy and respect."
Aboard the approaching Austro-Hungarian fleet was none other than the famous Vice Chairman Stahl. Naturally, Hupper and Raeder intended to pay their deepest respects to this prophet of future warfare... but they froze in sheer bewilderment at the rather pathetic sight Stahl presented.
"I-it is a pleasure to... *Bleeegh!* M-my apologies. Do you... do you have any aspirin...?"
"..."
Stahl had never set foot on a ship in either his past life or his current one! No matter how massive a battleship was, it was fundamentally not designed for passenger comfort. It wasn't the Titanic, after all. The minute, constant swaying of the vessel had robbed Stahl of sleep, leaving him battling severe vertigo all day. No matter how much of a hypochondriac he usually was, Stahl had never let his weakness show in front of strangers. But this time was an absolute exception.
"Um... Vice Chairman Stahl, we survived solely thanks to your brilliant foresight. You are the true ruler of the seas," Hupper managed to say.
"Ah, is that so? *Ugh...* I-I am not quite accustomed to the ocean. Excuse me, just... just a moment!"
Stahl clamped a hand over his mouth and bolted out of the captain's cabin. Could the title 'Ruler of the Seas' truly belong to someone who couldn't even withstand basic seasickness? Erich Raeder and Admiral Hupper exchanged deeply bewildered glances.
Tactical victories coupled with strategic defeats, or vice versa, were common occurrences on the battlefield. There were times when a hard-won victory yielded absolutely nothing, and times when a defeat still managed to achieve the desired objective. Of course, there were also fools who could not distinguish between the two at all—people who, no matter how great the strategic triumph, would never be satisfied unless they won a tactical victory. For some reason, such idiots seemed to cluster in Germany, and the king of those idiots was none other than Kaiser Wilhelm II.
"W-what did you say?"
"Your Majesty! Our Empire has only four battleships remaining. Meanwhile, the Allied fleet managed to escape with five of their battleships intact."
"Y-you... How dare they...!"
"Please calm yourself, Your Majesty! Even if we have lost control of the seas, the enemy is in no position to claim it either!"
"We still have our U-boats. In the meantime, General Ludendorff..."
They had successfully paralyzed the French Navy and temporarily halted their supply lines. Now, Erich Ludendorff would crush the French forces outside Frankfurt, then push through Belgium toward Paris. The scales of war had tipped back in Germany's favor. Furthermore, this was a decisive 'strategic victory' on the Western Front, which had long been stagnant and uneventful. The Kaiser's ministers tried to soothe him by emphasizing this, but the Kaiser, incapable of distinguishing tactical success from strategic triumph, was consumed by an unquenchable rage.
"B-bring Admiral Hupper to me at once! Arrest the Chief of the Naval Staff as well! I shall sever their heads with a single stroke to appease the souls of my battleships that sank so uselessly into the abyss!"
"Y-Your Majesty!"
"We beg of you, calm yourself!"
"Who is the master of this nation? It is I! Me! My battleships! If they cannot return my battleships to me, they must bring me their heads instead!"
Of course, it was understandable to grieve over a fleet worth billions of marks sinking to the bottom of the ocean. The Kaiser's ministers knew all too well that this was an incredibly cost-ineffective victory. However...
Seriously, that crippled fool has gone too far.
To think the future of our Empire rests in the hands of such a man... Can we truly go on like this?
The ministers' discontent had already reached its boiling point. After all, was it not the Kaiser himself who had brought about this disaster? It was a provocation that even a three-year-old wouldn't fall for—a French challenge to a duel that the Kaiser himself knew was a trap. Yet, driven by nothing but petty pride, Kaiser Wilhelm II had thrown billions of marks directly into the French Navy's den. Considering those circumstances, Admiral Hupper was a brilliant commander for managing to secure a strategic victory under such terrible conditions.
Indeed. Honestly, this entire situation... is entirely the Kaiser's fault.
Hindenburg practically risked his life to advise the Kaiser against this, didn't he?
Yet the Kaiser insisted on his stubbornness. That is why Frankfurt was besieged in the first place!
No more. We cannot tolerate this idiot's incompetence any longer...
The ministers could no longer endure the Kaiser's tantrums. Franz Joseph of the neighboring empire, though incompetent in military matters and prone to repeated blunders, had at least made the correct decision to place his trust in Stahl. As a result, Austria-Hungary had risen so high that it was no exaggeration to call them the rulers of Europe. Even their next crown prince was rumored to be exceptionally capable. Yet, what of Germany...?
We must take action as soon as possible.
The faces of the ministers flushed red with shared, silent resolve.
"You do not need to worry about the German mainland... *ugh*. We have already established communication with them, so the U-boat fleet will begin its maneuvers," Stahl said, still feeling his stomach churn.
My stomach is still doing flips. When I was in the airplane, I was too terrified to even think about throwing up. This is a completely different kind of shock compared to riding in a rattling carriage.
Hupper did not hide his astonishment.
"To be frank, I find it hard to believe. Do you truly have no naval experience?"
"None at all. I know next to nothing about naval matters."
"Then how... how did you devise such a revolutionary tactic?"
"Let's just say that because I lacked naval experience, I was able to think outside the box, haha. But... are you returning to Germany now?"
"I must."
"Most of the Kaisermarine has sunk to the bottom of the sea. Of course, they can be salvaged and restored once the war is over, but... will you truly be alright?"
Wilhelm II's obsession with his navy was famous even in the twenty-first century. A continental power that insisted on building a massive navy, only to end up provoking a declaration of war. Yet Admiral Hupper and his chief of staff, Erich Raeder, had just sent that beloved Kaisermarine straight to the underworld. It was a crude comparison, but how would an uncle feel if his nephew smashed a display cabinet filled with his prized model kits? Especially if those models cost thousands of dollars each? Of course, the blame for sinking this pretty collection of toys lay squarely on the Kaiser himself. The problem was that Wilhelm II's memory did not stretch that far.
"...I know what you are worried about," Hupper said quietly.
"Indeed. So, if you use my name and make your way to Vienna, I can offer you protection..."
"I cannot do that. No matter what kind of man the Kaiser is, I am an officer of the German Empire. Even if I am not a Junker."
"..."
"Regardless of my personal feelings toward the Kaiser or the grand strategy, I bear the responsibility for the deaths of countless sailors."
In other words, he was willing to let the Kaiser execute him. It was his own life, so it wasn't my place to interfere, but... even I was starting to find Wilhelm II's character utterly detestable. How many German officers—who would likely become my assets in the future—was he going to get killed? Honestly, if not for Wilhelm II, this war might have ended long ago. The entire conflict had snowballed from the siege of Frankfurt. That initial mistake had rolled on and on, culminating in the precious tax money of the German people being buried deep in the Mediterranean.
"Hmm... Can you still continue operations for now?"
"Yes. Though fuel is starting to become a concern."
"Then make a brief port call in Athens to refuel. And since you are on your way to face your doom anyway, may I ask a favor of you?"
The struggles of the Imperial German Navy had not been in vain. Or rather, whether they were in vain or not depended entirely on Ludendorff and me.
"What is your assessment of this battle's outcome?"
"Regrettably... we failed to deal a decisive blow to the Allied fleet. A significant number of their battleships escaped."
"Yes, that is true. But do you know what else is true?"
"What is it?"
"The French Navy may still be afloat, but the Italian Navy has been decisively crushed."
When I dispatched the torpedo bomber squadrons, I had given them strict instructions: if possible, prioritize destroying the warships flying the Italian flag. France was entirely Germany's problem. Our navy's greatest rival was none other than our immediate neighbor, Italy. We even shared the Adriatic Sea. If the French Navy survived, it would simply prolong the battle at Frankfurt. But the Italian Navy had to be dismantled at all costs. Why?
"We are planning a landing operation in Italy."
"Is that true?"
"Yes. We have no intention of completely toppling the Italian government, but we do plan to construct airfields there."
"Then..."
"Indeed. Control of the sea is now ours."
The Italian forces were currently dying in droves in the Alps, where our imperial army was concentrated. Therefore, to ensure the success of a landing operation, we had to strike the point furthest from the mountains. And that was...
"Sicily. We will occupy it and build our airfields there."
"So you are asking for our navy's assistance in this landing operation."
"Yes."
"But we are a military under the command of His Majesty the Kaiser. Without his approval..."
"You are going to your death once you return to Germany anyway, so what does it matter what you do?"
"..."
"Since you are going to die regardless, why not do us a favor on your way out?"
In any case, Admiral Hupper and Erich Raeder were bound to die. Hupper was even volunteering for it. Still, since the war was nearing its end thanks to them, my conscience pricked slightly at the thought of letting them perish like this. There was only one way to save them.
"Ah, as a token of gratitude for your help, may I offer a piece of advice?"
"By all means."
"If possible, cooperate with Ludendorff."
"Pardon? What do you mean by that...?"
"You are both non-Junker officers, are you not? I believe you could be of great assistance to one another."
In the original history, Wilhelm II had made such a fool of himself that by the end of the war, he had become a mere puppet of Ludendorff and Hindenburg. Once the French forces were driven out of Frankfurt, it seemed highly likely that Ludendorff would make his move.