Chapter 365: Blessing Come in Pairs

“Things have gotten troublesome,” Vice-Admiral Lawrence, the captain of the Ark Royal and also the deputy commander of this pursuit operation, said with a sigh, lowering the binoculars in his hand. He already knew the fact that the Renown had sunk, and he also knew that for the Hood, its sinking was now only a matter of time.

Although his fleet was already the only carrier fleet that Britain could muster to deal with the German Navy, it was still more than a little behind in the number and quality of its carrier-based aircraft, as well as in its electronic equipment.

Just a few minutes ago, he had received the news that the 55 carrier-based aircraft he had sent out had been almost completely wiped out. A loss like this was no different from a total annihilation for him. Now, he only had 25 Roc fighters left for air defense, and a pitiful five Swordfish.

The original plan was not for his fleet to be the main combat force. His combat mission was only to hold back the German High Seas Fleet. As long as he could hold back the Germans, he was also confident that the two warships in Vice-Admiral Holland’s hands were sufficient to send the Germans to the bottom of the sea in an instant. So after a brief communication, he had even scrambled his attack aircraft a step ahead, hoping to buy precious time for the main fleet.

It was a pity that his planes had still been a step too late. By the time these Swordfish and Roc fighters had flown into the German navy’s radar detection range, the German navy was already launching its fighters to beat the drowning dog that was Vice-Admiral Holland.

After learning the news of Vice-Admiral Holland’s complete annihilation, Lawrence had known that the 55 aircraft he had sent out were probably lambs to the slaughter. A thought had once crossed his mind, to call these planes back and then to flee with his own troops. But after careful consideration, he had rejected this plan of deserting in the face of the enemy.

If he had really abandoned the pursuit fleet and had run away on his own, then his career as a vice-admiral would have been over when he got back. That fool, Vice-Admiral Holland, was beyond it all now that he was dead, leaving such a terrible mess for him, and yet he had no choice but to take it on.

Originally, all along the way, they had been chasing with the mentality of sharing the credit and asking for rewards, with a rather grand air of “going down to Yangzhou in the third month of spring.” Now, there was no credit to be shared, and asking for rewards was also out of the question. They were also rushing, and their speed was even faster than when they had come—after all, this time it was a matter of life and death. They had to be fast.

Lawrence was now leading his fleet rapidly south. He knew that the aircraft units he had sent out did not need to return to land, so he might as well just start running. This time, he ran very thoroughly, and he also ran without any hesitation.

George stood on the deck, helplessly watching the British fleet flee in disarray. The German attack planes had not yet arrived, but there was already a faint air of pessimistic dejection here. On the entire deck, the fully prepared Roc fighters were waiting for the order to take off, but they all knew that once they took off, it would be a journey of no return.

Several pilots stood beside George. This was also probably the only place on the entire deck where smoking was allowed. They looked at the sky, holding their cigarettes between their fingers without saying a word, their mood seemingly a little heavy.

“Will our ship sink?” a young electric turret gunner asked, looking at the silent George.

This question took George aback. It was clear that he had not expected a half-grown child to ask such a question. He then had no choice but to open his mouth and answer seriously, “That depends on the commander and the sailors on the bridge, and also on your combat capability. If you are asking me, the damage control commander, whether it will sink or not, isn’t that a bit too sad?”

The pilot was clearly a bit older. He patted the head of the turret operator with an air of seniority and said with some dissatisfaction, “What sink or not sink! Don’t you know how to say something auspicious! Don’t worry, as long as we are here, this carrier HMS Ark Royal will not sink, sir.”

The topic ended here, because over there, the ground crew on the deck were waving their caps and letting out a cheer. “They’re back! They’re back!”

In the distance, a Roc fighter swayed as it entered the landing pattern of the carrier’s runway and then successfully landed on the flight deck. It was stopped by one after another of the arresting wires and lay across the middle of the deck.

The luck of this plane was really not bad, because when it was its turn to be shot at, the 30mm cannons on the German navy’s Fw-190s had all run out of ammunition, so they had to use the 13mm machine guns on their wings to attack. So although this Roc had been hit several times, it had still managed to limp back to the carrier.

The huge propeller on the plane was still turning when the ground crew rushed forward to help, pulling the two almost-exhausted pilots out of the cockpit. It could be said that the two were lucky. Several German 13mm machine gun rounds had pierced the fuselage nearby, but both of them had miraculously been unharmed.

The battle was so tragic that to be able to return alive was a great happiness. In the distance, George looked at the busy crowd on the deck, put the last stub of his cigarette in the corner of his mouth, took a deep drag, and then threw it into the sea.

Was it just tragic? Weren’t the things he had been through tragic enough? Of those friends and superiors from back then, how many were left now? He was a damage control commander on the aircraft carrier Ark Royal. With the Germans’ posture, how long could he do this job in peace? Perhaps in the next second, he would have to face the situation of seawater pouring in and the warship breaking apart again. George thought to himself as he threw away the cigarette butt.

“Boom! Boom!” Just as George was lost in thought, on the port side of the aircraft carrier Ark Royal, the main guns of a British destroyer opened fire fiercely. George saw the firing angle of the naval guns clearly, looked in that direction, and was so scared he broke out in a cold sweat.

He gave himself a hard slap in the face, which made him grimace in pain. But in his heart, he still cursed relentlessly: This crow’s mouth! Whatever I say comes true. What are we to do now?

Saying is one thing, cursing is another. This damage control commander’s actions were not at all ambiguous. He immediately ran toward the carrier’s bridge. At the very least, he had to get there to be able to command the hundred or so damage control personnel below. Just as he took a step to run back, he finally heard the heart-wrenching reminder: “German planes! German planes! Anti-aircraft fire, return fire!”

Soon, the British anti-aircraft fire began to roar, spitting a dense tongue of fire into the sky. The German planes weaved through the dense jungle of iron and fire, with a hint of elegance, not looking very pathetic at all.

This time, to find the British aircraft carrier fleet, Lütjens had sent out only the Fw-190s, which could climb above the clouds and were definitely fast enough. They were only carrying small bombs and torpedoes. The older, slower Stukas were still on their way, and it was still a question of whether they could even make it.

So this air raid was also an uncomfortable battle for the Germans. After all, without the Stukas to share the firepower from above, the pressure on the Fw-190s, which were diving to drop their torpedoes, would be much greater.

Vice-Admiral Lawrence was not completely helpless either. Most of the remaining destroyers and cruisers in his fleet were the ones that Vice-Admiral Holland had picked over. Most were anti-aircraft and anti-submarine warships. Because Vice-Admiral Holland’s pursuit fleet had no use for them, they had all been given to Lawrence, which had made Lawrence quite dissatisfied at the time.

But this one move had at this very moment saved the British carrier fleet. The overall fleet’s anti-aircraft firepower was countless times greater than that of Vice-Admiral Holland’s pursuit fleet, which had momentarily left the hastily-arrived German pilots not knowing how to start.

Based on the principle and purpose of “picking the softest persimmon,” the German torpedo plane formation began to fiercely attack the aircraft carrier HMS Hermes, which was slower and now had no planes. Although the surrounding ships were desperately escorting it, the Hermes was still quickly hit by a small bomb, which damaged the deck elevator, which did not affect its speed.

By the time George had rushed back to the Ark Royal‘s combat command room, he had heard Commander Lawrence give the order to scramble the fighters. George did not bother to wait for the specific outcome of the battle, but just returned to his own command position and had his little adjutant notify the subordinates at the various stations to prepare for emergency repairs.

Although he knew that the Roc fighter was far from being a match for the German Navy’s Fw-190, after seeing two Rocs take off, George’s heart still settled down a little. If they were to coordinate with the powerful fleet’s anti-aircraft fire, at least they would not be instantly sent to the bottom of the sea like the pursuit fleet.

It was just that Lawrence and George did not yet know that the German Navy, which had the momentum of a salted fish turning over, was fighting with increasing bravery and had even developed the air of a master who was getting into the groove. They had left the constantly sinking Hood and did not pay it any attention, and were now heading south at high speed with great momentum, with the wishful thinking of annihilating the entire British carrier fleet.

Because there were more and more Roc carrier-based fighters providing escort in the vicinity, the pressure around the Ark Royal was suddenly relieved. But the twenty Fw-190s were not idle either. They poured all their ammunition on the slower aircraft carrier Hermes, which was lagging behind.

Although they had bombed the Hermes until it was a blaze of fire and had also sunk an obstructing British cruiser in passing, this carrier Hermes still stubbornly sailed forward, as if it did not care about the little skirmishes of the German fighters.

But things soon took a turn for the better. A German torpedo plane finally hit the Hermes. The strong explosion from this hit torpedo caused the warship to list severely, and its speed also dropped from the original 22 knots to 15 knots in an instant. The overall escape speed of the British fleet also slowed down with it.

Just as the British’s good luck had run out, a German aircraft formation appeared in the sky. Twenty Stuka bombers with heavy bombs arrived late—for the British, everything seemed to have become irreversible.