Chapter 397: So Frustrating

In the dilapidated British naval port, the air was filled with the smoke and fire of the aftermath of a bombing. But now, a neatly dressed m

In the dilapidated British naval port, the air was filled with the smoke and fire of the aftermath of a bombing. But now, a neatly dressed military band was standing here, beating gongs and drums, celebrating something. Many military and political dignitaries, including the First Lord of the Admiralty and the British Prime Minister, were standing on the pier, welcoming the heroes of the British Navy back to port amidst the majestic sound of music.

The naming of British Navy submarines was very complex. Some classes were named after rivers, while others were named after gods. Compared to the simple and neat German Navy’s U-plus-number system, it seemed much more humane. Of course, in terms of efficiency, it seemed not to be as simple and convenient as U-XX.

The submarine HMS Odin was not an advanced British submarine. In fact, the reason this submarine had been able to slip into the Baltic Sea was entirely due to a reconnaissance mission of the British Navy, not a planned assassination.

But the captain of the submarine Odin had recently taken the legendary German submarine captain, Prien, who had the nickname “the Battleship Terminator,” as his idol. He had been thinking all day of making a name for himself by launching a surprise attack on a German naval port. So this time, he had acted on his own authority and had gone to the vicinity of the Kiel naval port for an adventurous activity, which had scared the crew into a cold sweat.

But Lady Luck had still smiled on the Odin. This submarine had encountered the negligent German Navy’s sea trial fleet. Looking at the two huge German aircraft carriers not far away, the captain of the Odin had ordered the firing of torpedoes. In the end, with very reluctant sighs, the crew had risked their lives and had fired four torpedoes. As a result, due to the level of their training, two of the torpedoes had gone off target and had headed in a direction that was a hundred and eight thousand li away from the target. Only two torpedoes had charged toward the German carriers.

In a muddle-headed way, the British submarine Odin had sunk the German Navy’s newly launched carrier No. 5. The terrified carrier No. 6, with its escorting destroyers, had fled in disarray. The submarine Odin, on the other hand, had taken advantage of the chaos and had shaken off the pursuit of the German anti-submarine destroyers. After two days and two nights of fleeing, it had finally escaped back to a British port.

And so this scene in the British naval port had come to be. Churchill was in desperate need of a victory. The beleaguered British military was in desperate need of a victory. The British people, who were on the verge of collapse, were also in desperate need of a victory. Like a timely rain after a long drought, that bunch of German idiots had just sent the British a victory that was absolutely worth celebrating.

“Have all the reporters been found?” Churchill asked with great satisfaction of his confidant, the First Lord of the Admiralty, beside him. The First Lord, who had just received a commendation from the King for this victory, was naturally in a good mood and nodded. “They’ve all been found, Prime Minister… Some of the important newspaper reporters from the United States have also been invited. In a little while, there will be music, and then the medals will be awarded and the prize money distributed.”

“We can finally breathe a sigh of relief,” Churchill said with his hands behind his back, a long-lost smile on his face. “As long as Britain can hold on through the current crisis, in a few months, the Americans will see through the fact that a German domination of Europe is of no benefit to the Americans… At that time, we will be able to maintain a decent ending.”

“A few months’ time?” the First Lord asked in a low voice, bowing his head. “The Queen Elizabeth is heading north, and the Repulse has also completed its refit and has been re-launched. I think that as long as there are no problems, we should be able to hold on for a few months, right?”

“You still don’t understand,” Churchill said with a sigh. “These few months will not be easy to get through… What we have to withstand is not the German landing in the English Channel, which is doomed to suffer heavy losses, but to maintain the crucial supply lines in the North Atlantic!”

“The news from the intelligence department has corrected some of our erroneous data from before the war, for example, the number of German navy submarines,” the First Lord said after a moment’s thought. “A rough estimate is that Germany should now have at least 200 submarines, and the number maintained on the North Atlantic route is about 60.”

“It is these 60 submarines that are like a fishbone stuck in my throat when I am eating, making me feel pained, nauseous, and unable to swallow!” Churchill said helplessly. “Do you know that we are losing dozens of transport ships, civilian ships, and fishing boats every day… If you cannot ensure the safety of the shipping routes, then these few months will be enough to cause Britain to completely collapse.”

“I have already done my best. These past few days, we have sunk two German submarines. Someone has suggested installing high-power searchlights on airplanes to find the German submarines. Someone has suggested installing cannons on merchant ships to lure the German submarines into a trap… We are trying all of these,” the First Lord replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Churchill patted the First Lord’s shoulder and consoled him, “I know you are all working hard. We are also working hard. We are developing a new type of computing device, hoping to crack the Germans’ military codes. In addition, we are researching radar systems, and a new type of fighter is also being designed in full swing… Our foundation is no worse than the Germans’. Whatever that Akado can do, I, Churchill, can do as well!”

This Prime Minister of Britain now gritted his teeth whenever he mentioned the German Führer, Akado Rudolph. Since he had taken over the current mess in Britain, he had been suppressed by that opponent in far-off Berlin at every turn, which had made him very unhappy. But as he was gritting his teeth and preparing to curse Akado a few times, the First Lord of the Admiralty beside him had excitedly interrupted him.

He saw his confidant pointing at the sea surface and shouting with joy, “Look! Look! The submarine Odin is back!”

On the distant sea surface, a submarine was indeed slowly sailing into the port. Beside it was a British destroyer responsible for piloting it in. A cheer immediately broke out on the pier. It was the British sailors who had come to watch, as well as the British reporters who had finally gotten some good news.

The great stone in his heart finally fell to the ground. A smile also appeared on Churchill’s face. In the past month, God had played too many tricks on him, so until the last moment, he could not believe this victory that was already in his hands.

“This time, it should be foolproof!” Churchill said with a sigh, looking at the sea.

The submarine docked, and the gangway was put up. One by one, the submarine crew jumped onto the pier. The applause rang out and did not stop for a long time. The treatment that the German submarine U-47 had received last time was now being given to the British Odin. It was a different port, a different pier, but it was being staged once again.

“Captain, sir! Would you be willing to describe in detail every detail of your voyage this time?” a female reporter asked, squeezing to the very front of the crowd, her small notebook ready to take notes.

“May I ask what your thoughts are on sinking the German Navy’s largest and newest aircraft carrier?” another reporter asked, unable to wait and squeezing out of the crowd.

“Are aircraft carriers really invincible? Captain, sir, do you think submarines can become the nemesis of German submarines?” an American reporter also threw out his own question.

The pier was bustling with excitement. Churchill, under the constant flashing of the flashbulbs, awarded the captain of the submarine Odin with a beautifully crafted medal representing honor.

Then Churchill blocked all the reporters and said with a smile, “Ladies and gentlemen, as you can all see, our heroes are all exhausted now! What they need is rest. A little later, a reporter from The Times will conduct an exclusive interview with the heroes. The interview record that will be provided at that time will certainly not disappoint everyone!…”

He had not yet finished speaking when the piercing sound of the port’s air raid siren began to wail. All the reporters scrambled to pack up their cameras and prepare to run. The scene on the entire pier immediately became chaotic.

Churchill suddenly had the urge to curse his mother. He really wanted to know why the German counter-attack was always so perfectly timed, always so capable of making him want to cry but have no tears. By the time he had been helped to the entrance of the air-raid shelter, he had looked up at the sky and had seen a terrifying scene that had left him silent for a long time.

One hundred and thirty Butcher strategic bombers and ninety Do-217 medium bombers, escorted by 110 Fw-190D fighters, were flying over in a dense swarm in the distant sky, like a plague of locusts. It was clear that these terrifying bomber groups were not targeting this port, so the air raid siren did not continue to sound.

Judging by the direction, this massive bomber group was flying to London to carry out a bombing mission. Churchill stood there helplessly, as if he had something to say, but also as if he could not say a single word. Beside him, an American reporter, who had bravely poked his head out, had seen the massive, unprecedented aircraft formation in the sky and had raised the camera in his hand.

“Pop!” The flashbulb went off, startling Churchill, who was in a daze. The beautiful music of the military band had long since disappeared. The lively interview and award ceremony on the pier had been replaced by a scene of utter chaos. A perfectly good victory interview seemed to have changed its flavor. Now, there was only the buzzing of the engines coming from the distant sky, which oppressed everyone’s heart.

The interview and propaganda activities did not continue, because everyone knew that at this very moment, London was probably already a sea of fire. Several of the British reporters were in a hurry to get back to London to witness the birth of another piece of news. More of the other reporters were already scared out of their wits by the German bomber group that was passing overhead, and they no longer had the heart to continue the interview.

“Back to London!” Churchill said with a grim face to his secretary and the accompanying officials. “It seems we have our work cut out for us again this time.”

Since the Prime Minister was leaving, a group of reporters also left with him, leaving the captain of the Odin, as if he had experienced a great rise and fall that had ended abruptly without a beginning.

The next day, the front-page headline of London’s The Times was “A Crime Against Humanity—The German War Maniac’s Bloodbath in London.” The news of the sinking of the German aircraft carrier, which Churchill had placed high hopes on, was only briefly reported on the back page of the second edition.

And the report in the American New York Times almost made Churchill vomit three liters of blood, because the front-page headline of this newspaper was a photo, a photo taken looking up at the sky, in which was a sky densely packed with German bombers. The headline was very interesting: “How Long Can the British Hold On?”