Chapter 361: A Fight to the Death

What kind of wait is the longest? When someone else is in the toilet and you are outside? Alright, that’s not what we’re talking about now. The feeling that the German Vice-Admiral Lütjens and the British Vice-Admiral Holland were having now was probably that of waiting outside a toilet, where every day feels like a year.

There are many coincidences in history that make one smile. For example, now, although both countries had admirals of the fleet, in such an important naval showdown, the ones leading the troops were coincidentally not the supreme commanders of their respective navies—and coincidentally, the ranks of the two men were the same, both vice-admirals.

On the bridge of the German High Seas Fleet’s flagship, the carrier Imperator, it was a scene of bustling activity. Some were confirming the fleet’s position and security perimeter, while others were asking the rearguard ships if they had spotted the position of the British Navy.

Lütjens looked up at the clock hanging in the command room and anxiously tapped the tabletop, his face tense and expressionless. Only he himself knew how anxious he was in his heart. The pressure of making this decision was driving him crazy.

The vice-admiral lowered his head and stared at his own fingers. He saw that the hands that had once been incomparably firm were now trembling slightly. He knew that if he were to speak now, even his lips would tremble, and his voice would go off-key. He was not afraid of the responsibility on his shoulders, but of ruining the dream of an empire.

He had an impulse to slam the table, to turn his ship around and fight a life-and-death battle with the British opponent with his big guns. But it was a pity that he knew he could not do that, because he did not even have the qualifications to fight a battle of mutual destruction. He could only flee, flee for his life.

He didn’t know how many times it had been. He once again looked up at the clock on the wall, staring blankly at the minute and hour hands. He prayed for dawn to come quickly, but he also feared its approach. A contradictory mood lingered in his heart, one that could not be dispelled and that made him suffer every minute and every second.

Because dawn was the moment he would begin his attack. The carrier-based aircraft in the hangars had long been loaded with bombs and torpedoes, eagerly awaiting the moment of dawn. Yet he did not dare to look forward to the arrival of dawn, because the moment of darkness before dawn could very well be the moment when the British warships opened fire with all their guns, and he would be annihilated.

And on the British fleet’s flagship, the Hood, Vice-Admiral Holland was also constantly taking out his pocket watch and looking at the time with a frown. If there was one person in the world at this moment who could understand the feelings of the German fleet commander, Vice-Admiral Lütjens, then that person was undoubtedly Holland.

The same anxious waiting, the same nervous hesitation, the same urgent expectation, and the same fear and confusion. At this moment, they were truly two unfortunate brothers, each experiencing their own suffocation and fear. As the flagship of the fleet, as the core of the entire fleet, Vice-Admiral Holland’s battlecruiser Hood was now at the very front of the entire fleet. Following closely behind him was another giant of the sea—the battlecruiser Renown.

Vice-Admiral Holland put down the pocket watch in his hand, because he found that his own hand was trembling. If this detail, which was due to excessive nervousness, were to be seen by the others on the bridge, it would affect morale to a certain extent. Every single detail, Vice-Admiral Holland wanted to do his best.

He had an obsession in his heart, the obsession of the British Royal Navy for a hundred years. Before his eyes was a figure, a figure that was in the heart of every sailor of the British Royal Navy. He wanted to stand shoulder to shoulder with that hero, Nelson. He wanted to create his own Holland legend!

The sea was still pitch black. Nothing could be seen in the distance, but Holland knew that the German fleet was there, not far away. The hands of the clock had already pointed to the number that he had been infinitely looking forward to in his heart. It seemed that God was on the side of the British this time.

“Order the fleet, advance at full speed!” Vice-Admiral Holland stood in front of a window at the front of the bridge. By a faint light, he could vaguely see the two majestic turrets on the bow of the battleship Hood and the four 381mm main guns that gave him a great boost of confidence. This was his capital for winning a decisive victory at dawn, and also the guarantee of the future of the British Empire’s sea power.

News had just come in. A British submarine hiding near the port of the Netherlands had sent a telegram, confirming that no German navy had been found. This intelligence had greatly increased Vice-Admiral Holland’s confidence and had also let him know that the German fleet was definitely in front of him.

And so at this fateful moment, at 2:41 AM, Holland gave his attack order. “Engage the boiler afterburners! The entire fleet is to sprint at maximum speed! Close the distance with the German Navy!”

And just at 2:41, the German Navy had received a piece of bad news that made Lütjens’s head spin. A destroyer at the very rear of the formation, responsible for security, had sent back a message by signal lamp. At 2:37, the rearguard ship’s radar had detected the trailing British naval formation. It seemed that the distance was becoming more and more unfavorable for the German Navy.

Lütjens took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead twice. He then propped himself up and once again walked to the side of the chart table. With the range ruler that he had been using for many years, he measured the distance between the two sides again.

“It looks like the other side is charging over at full speed. Even if our escort ships were to turn around and release their torpedoes, it might not be of any use,” Lütjens said, tossing the measuring ruler aside and staring at the sea chart. “Can we only give up? Give up a few escort ships to cause trouble for the British Navy?”

He knew that the destroyers were definitely not up to it. Even if there were more destroyers, it would be impossible to make a behemoth like the Hood slow down. Firing torpedoes? If they got into the 10-kilometer range, they would probably be sunk, and might not even last until they were at the maximum range for releasing their torpedoes. Even if they were lucky enough to get into range, they would be taken out by the charging destroyers and cruisers. It was estimated that they would not even see the true form of the Hood.

“Report!” an officer came in, his face not looking very good. He handed a telegram to Lütjens and then reported with a heavy heart, “The rearguard armored ship Admiral Graf Spee is turning.”

“A message from the Admiral Graf Spee: ‘I am going to cover the rear! Please continue north with the army, General. Heil Führer! Long live Great Germany!'” Lütjens took the telegram and looked at the words on it in silence. He suddenly felt something rush out of his eyes.

These naval officers and men did not lack courage. It was just that they did not dare to let the future of the Reich’s sea power become a bubble because of their own courage. When disaster struck, the soldiers of the Imperial Navy had never lacked courage. It was so for the predecessors who had carried out Operation Rainbow back then, and it was also so for the soldiers who were now preparing for the Battle of the English Channel.

Following the Admiral Graf Spee as it turned were also the two rearguard destroyers and one cruiser. These warships, which were only equipped with small-caliber anti-aircraft guns, did not hesitate in the slightest when they turned. They silently turned their bows and, with their weak bodies, stood in front of the behemoth warships of the British Navy.

“Fleet, accelerate! Increase speed to 24 knots! We must do everything we can to postpone the start of the battle until dawn!” Lütjens did not use his handkerchief but just wiped his face with his hand and gave his combat order in a trembling voice.

All the warships began to accelerate. A tragic atmosphere permeated the air. There were even naval fighter pilots who requested to take off early, willing to risk crashing into the sea to launch a wave of air strikes against the British warships. But Lütjens had rejected this request. He had to preserve every bit of his combat strength to welcome the dawn that belonged to him.

Soon, the sound of the naval battle in the rear came over. The German Navy, relying on its radar technology, had opened fire first, but it seemed these shells had no effect on the British Navy’s battlecruisers. However, being the first to fire did indeed cause trouble for the British Navy. The entire British fleet had to reduce its speed to 24 knots.

At close range, the British Navy’s battleship Hood subsequently returned fire. The first salvo, due to the difficulty of aiming at night, had landed in the sea near the German warships. But in the second shelling, the British naval gunners had shown their superb aiming skills, directly hitting the German cruiser that was charging over to release its torpedoes, directly breaking this German cruiser in two.

The German armored ship Admiral Graf Spee, knowing that it was doomed, did not retreat. It ignored the British giant and bit at the British fleet’s left-wing cruisers and destroyers, firing fiercely and sinking a British light cruiser in one go. But it itself was also crippled on the sea at the same time and had lost its ability to continue fighting.

The main guns of the Repulse had hit the rear main turret of the Admiral Graf Spee, directly blowing the stern of this warship in two. And the German ship’s forward main turret was also hit by a British cruiser. In just less than ten minutes of fighting, this 10,000-ton warship had been set on fire, and its entire hull had begun to list violently.

The German naval officers and men, who were making a desperate gamble, were still fighting back desperately. The 150mm guns on the ship were still firing until they were blown to pieces. But the British Navy had no time to waste on such a small fish. It only left one cruiser behind to continue to shell the German ship and to clean up the mess.

Hearing the sound of the artillery fire getting farther and farther away, and looking at the still pitch-black sky, Lütjens began to feel a sense of despair. Could it be that dominating the ocean was just an unattainable dream for the German Navy? Could it be that the invincibility of these past few days was just a spring dream? Could it be that he would eventually be recorded in the annals of history with the name of a criminal of the German Navy?

Why? Lütjens couldn’t help but clench his fists. He gritted his teeth and questioned loudly and sorrowfully in his heart: Why? Why don’t I have a single battleship?