c7: The Dazzling Rainbow

Time flew by, and a year passed in the blink of an eye. Akado seemed to have been forgotten, left by Germany in an office on the outskirts of Hamburg, his only companions two chairs and a brand-new typewriter.

This typewriter was purchased with Akado’s own salary, making it his private property. The depressed German industry and the nearly non-existent army budget would never have equipped a second lieutenant with such a non-combat-related typing device.

During this time, Akado had received letters from Hitler. The letters said that he had already achieved some success in Munich. His speeches were admired by many dignitaries, and the group of capitalists secretly supporting him had grown to a considerable size. And yet, at this moment, Akado was still just a second lieutenant stationed in the suburbs of Hamburg. His position had not changed for a full year.

However, far away on the seas of Scotland, a knight drew his first sword in defiance of the Treaty of Versailles.

About seventy German warships had been escorted to Great Britain, where they awaited division among the world’s great powers. These were the same warships that had given the British a bitter taste of defeat at the Battle of Jutland, but now they were about to become weapons for the enemy.

Fierce-looking British soldiers boarded the German warships, prodding groups of German sailors from their posts at riflepoint. These sailors were to be repatriated; they had lost their chance to challenge British sea power. Dejected and helpless, they formed a line and walked down from their beloved ships.

“What are you pushing for! You think you won? No! We were betrayed! You idiots! I will be back! I’ll let you feel what I’m feeling now! Bastards!” a German naval captain shouted from within the crowd. He was pulled from the line and began to scuffle with two British soldiers, the scene descending into chaos.

On the flagship of the German High Seas Fleet, an aged hand picked up the telephone. A weary but firm voice came through: “This is Admiral von Reuter. I will not water the enemy’s flowers with German blood. I now order all officers to stand by at the seacocks and await my next instruction.”

After giving the order, Admiral Ludwig von Reuter hung up the phone. He looked powerlessly at the three officers standing before him and said in a low voice, “It’s over, gentlemen. Fifty years of our hard work… with a single command from me, it will all sink to the bottom of the sea.”

“Sir, we have followed you into battle across the seas and obeyed countless orders from you. Only this order brings us humiliation, yet we have no choice but to carry it out,” one officer said gravely, giving a standard Prussian military salute.

Another officer also stood straight, his voice booming, “We will never hand our warships over to the British! I would rather sink with my ship!”

Admiral von Reuter waved his hand, signaling them to stop. “Rear Admiral Wells, have most of the sailors been sent home?”

The middle-aged man among the three officers who had not yet spoken stepped forward and replied, “Admiral, more than half of the men have been repatriated by the British. In a few more days, our numbers will be even smaller. We can execute the plan then.”

“I am grateful that you are all willing to stay behind and accompany this old bag of bones.” Admiral von Reuter gave a self-deprecating smile and stood up, steadying himself on the arm of his chair. “If we destroy everything here, it’s hard to say if the British will let us leave. I truly wish you would return home with the other sailors. You are all rare talents for the German Navy.”

“We have dedicated our entire lives to serving the High Seas Fleet, Admiral! If heaven has arranged for the High Seas Fleet to be destroyed, I hope I can accompany it on its final journey,” the first officer who had spoken said, his eyes filled with tears.

“Thank you, Captain Gruber,” von Reuter said, managing a faint smile.

On June 21, 1919, a peaceful day, Admiral von Reuter picked up the telephone with a trembling hand and gave the most important order of his life: “Operation Rainbow, begin! All warships, scuttle!”

Seagulls cried in the distance. Everything was as natural as ever. The sea breeze caressed everyone’s faces. Two British soldiers were smoking on the deck of a German destroyer. Not far away, three officers in British naval uniforms approached. The two soldiers quickly snapped to attention and saluted.

“Is everything normal?” the British officer in the middle asked with a smile, returning the salute. Every Englishman was all smiles these days. They had won the First World War, and everything here was their spoils.

“Reporting, Colonel Meredith! Everything is normal here! The Germans can’t pull any tricks!” a soldier answered loudly.

Suddenly, the warship beneath their feet gave a slight lurch. Colonel Meredith frowned. He looked up at the distant German battleship SMS Friedrich der Grosse and his eyes suddenly widened, as if he had seen a ghost.

“Good God! The battleship Kaiser! Why is the Kaiser listing? Quick! Notify everyone! Keep an eye on the Germans! Now!” After a silence of about ten seconds, he came to his senses and shouted his orders.

He waved his hand at the two soldiers before him. “Get to the engine room immediately! Open fire on any suspicious German soldiers you see! We are taking over this ship now! Move!”

Before Colonel Meredith could finish speaking, the destroyer under his feet, hull number G102, shuddered again, and the entire ship began to tilt slightly to the starboard side.

The two soldiers immediately raised their rifles and ran towards the engine room. The two other British officers, who had been silent, drew their pistols and hurriedly followed. Colonel Meredith, however, stood on the deck without a word, gripping the trembling railing and watching the nearby battleship SMS Kaiserin slowly begin to sink.

“Who are you? The British are not allowed here! We have not yet handed over the warship to you!” A hurried sentence in German came from behind him.

“Get out of the way! Or we’ll open fire!” one of the British officers shouted.

“Bang!” A gunshot rang out.

In the distance, more gunshots began to sound. The entire German High Seas Fleet, once as silent as death, seemed to have come alive again. The Germans used the terrain to their advantage, fighting back with the pistols only officers were allowed to carry, using their few precious bullets to stop the British from entering the ships’ interiors.

Soon, the flagship of the German High Seas Fleet, the battleship Friedrich der Grosse, sank. A massive vortex formed on the surface of the sea, swallowing the steel behemoth. The command flag of the German High Seas Fleet flew defiantly until the very end.

Afterward, the Kaiserin also disappeared beneath the waves. The entire sea was in chaos. The German warships sank one after another. The British, caught completely off guard, scrambled to seize the remaining vessels.

Approximately 47 German warships, including almost all the battleships, sank to the seabed. Of the more than seventy ships of the German High Seas Fleet, the British only managed to salvage 23.

Colonel Meredith leaned against the railing of the destroyer G102, smoking and looking at the remaining German warships scattered haphazardly across the water. Thanks to a timely rescue, this destroyer did not sink. His soldiers had killed four German officers and managed to close the seacocks in time, but the ship was already listing at a forty-five-degree angle, looking as if it was on the verge of sinking.

On a British barge, the remaining German naval officers were imprisoned together. Their ceremonial sidearms and sabers, symbols of their status, had been confiscated. Half of them were even in handcuffs. Yet, victorious smiles graced all their faces. They had succeeded. The German High Seas Fleet had not fallen into the hands of the British and the French.

The news flew back to Germany as if on wings. The nation rejoiced. German diplomats immediately went to work, trying every means possible to bring these German heroes, who had committed such an astonishing act, back home.

Just as this scuttling plan, codenamed “Operation Rainbow,” was shocking the world, Akado was typing a report on his brand-new typewriter. He had completed his mission brilliantly. Every soldier in the 103rd and 105th Regiments could now face a gas attack with composure.

With the High Seas Fleet turned to dust, the German Army had been reduced to 920,000 men. Most soldiers had already lost their heavy weapons. Countless cannons and machine guns were being destroyed en masse, and the German high command was on the brink of collapse. In comparison, the newly formed 103rd and 105th Regiments stationed in Hamburg still maintained their combat effectiveness and continued with daily training.

As the situation spiraled further out of control, the 105th Regiment was ordered to the Ruhr region to quell the increasing unrest there.

Before leaving, Colonel Kluge, the commander of the 105th Regiment, came to Akado’s office. He sat down opposite Akado’s desk, crossed his legs, and casually tossed his white gloves onto the coffee table. He glanced at Akado’s new typewriter before speaking. “We’re heading out this afternoon for the Ruhr region. President Friedrich Ebert has discovered that the fragmented old army units are incapable of maintaining order, so he’s ordered the command to dispatch the newly formed Reichswehr. The troubles are getting worse.”

“People will soon discover that all this chaotic rabble-rousing will only hold our own people back. Only good order can allow Germany to rise again,” Akado said while typing.

He didn’t even raise his head, and Colonel Kluge opposite him didn’t mind. He knew that the second lieutenant sitting at the desk possessed profound knowledge and was well-versed in German politics and military affairs. He had benefited greatly from his conversations with this young officer, so he did not look down on him because of his low rank.

“Sometimes I even suspect you used to be a general, Akado,” Kluge said with a laugh. “I wrote a letter of recommendation for you. It should probably reach Berlin in a few days. Good luck.”

Akado stopped typing and looked up at Kluge, a look of surprise on his face. “I was just promoted to second lieutenant a year ago. Even if you recommend me, it will be shelved due to my lack of seniority.”

“Just as you said, for the future of Germany, I have to at least try,” Kluge laughed heartily.

Colonel Kluge of the 105th Regiment left with his men. He really did write a letter to the new army command in Berlin, praising Akado’s work. And before he left, he gifted Akado one of his old Prussian ceremonial swords.