Chapter Eighteen Alas! He Belongs Not to Britain (6)

  This is the northernmost part of the North Sea, more than eighty nautical miles from the Orkney Islands and fifty kilometers off the east coast of Scotland. The sky is bright with morning light and warmth, the Union Jack flies high, in short, this is the territory of the Royal Navy of Great Britain!

  However, a certain U-boat that was rampaging unscrupulously in this sea area made the name "Royal Navy territory" somewhat undeserved.

  "How lonely!"

  On U-29's foredeck, Oberleutnant Otto Weddigen, the ace commander of the Imperial Navy, was lounging in a most unmilitary leather aviator's jacket and goggles, half-sitting on the low outer wall of the conning tower.

  The words had barely fallen when the whole room was shocked. Vidyoot did not notice the astonished gaze of the water soldiers, and he even looked up at the sky at a 45-degree angle, shamelessly repeating the provocative words.

  "It's still so lonely!"

  The proud sea breeze disheveled Weidi's long golden hair and beard, the captain of the king's boat grasped a whip from the 10th Imperial Army Cuirassier Regiment in one hand, and flipped an American-made soap back and forth with the other hand, smirking and muttering to himself.

  "What a vast coastline of the British Empire and yet can't find a single merchant ship flying the Union Jack! How lonely!"

  The whip was tossed up casually, and then heavily slapped onto the pressure hull of this U-boat without a conning tower plaque, painted in a Victoria-style camouflage pattern, but with a strange golden "swallowtail" flag hanging from its top.

  The sunbathing submarine crew members all got a 'kick', everyone knew that their great captain and commander of the 8th Submarine Flotilla, personally called "King of the U-boats" by the Imperial newspapers, Otto Weddigen's time to show off had begun again.

  Wetti Ge, the ace captain who has been worshipped and cursed countless times by submarine soldiers, is as free-spirited and unconventional as his family. The Wetti Ge family in Ravensberg Blue Land has produced religious leaders, scientists, writers, and businessmen, and this new generation of outstanding individuals has clearly inherited this "excellent" tradition, such as their inability to focus for long periods of time, being approachable and optimistic, and being proud and fond of showing off.

  The sailors were as silent as cicadas in winter, their eyes had crossed countless times after, the "托" who was to take over the conversation was finally chosen.

  Matrose Oberstabsgefreiter Franz Lehmann, the new scope operator on U-29, was also a crazy admirer of the ace captain. A few disheveled old submarine soldiers whispered in the ear of Matrose Oberstabsgefreiter, who covered his mouth as if he had been shocked, and only opened his mouth after a long time with an expression of disillusionment and a perfunctory tone to satisfy the captain's bad taste.

  "Captain, didn't we just capture a British merchant ship?"

  Half an hour ago, the sky over the North Sea was still dimly lit. The U-29 submarine, which had just emerged from the fog bank, collided head-on with a merchant ship registered in the United States, flying the British flag, but whose captain was a thoroughbred Frenchman.

  The spoils were rich, for this three-thousand-tonner, sailing from the United States to Greater London in England, was loaded with a cargo of soap.

  Submarines are absolutely the most dreaded and respected platform for sailors, subject to the poor tonnage, the living and survival environment of submarines is extremely harsh. So when the submarine soldiers who have experienced long voyages and suffered from diesel fumes and body odor see that bar of soap, their excitement can be imagined.

  "Although the U-9, which I once commanded, sank three armoured cruisers of the Entente, three destroyers, four naval auxiliaries and sixteen merchant ships, it is worth noting that just now Count Luckner has captured three steamers with a single sailing vessel after breaking out into the North Sea; in Turkey, Lütjens sank the battleship Agincourt with only one armoured cruiser..."

  Otto Weddigen sprang up in a rage, waving his arms and spitting with fury, without even noticing that the military cap he had carelessly thrown on the deck was blown off by the wind.

  "Count Luckner achieved such great things with a dilapidated sailing ship, Lüttens did it with a Turkish collier and we U-29 have sunk only one armoured cruiser, one light cruiser, one scout cruiser, four destroyers, six naval auxiliaries, twenty-one steamers, with a total tonnage of barely nineteen million tons!"

  The King of Submarines spoke with an expression that was sincere and heartfelt, but his tone was full of the arrogance of a small-minded person who had achieved success.

  "But... but..."

  "Private, do you have an opinion?" Otto Weddigen stepped forward, his towering figure blocking the sunlight in front of Theodor von Levetzow.

  He pointed to the military cap that was blown by the wind and said: "In my opinion... do you still want your military cap?!"

  The sailors on the deck burst out laughing, and the proud major was so angry that he shouted loudly, his whip swung randomly and drew a "whip flower", and with a magical move, he picked up his military cap.

  "You little brats, dare to mock your ace boat captain? I'll brutally 'drill' you!"

  The boatman was just about to swing his whip and show off his authority when a short, sharp whistle sounded from behind him.

  "Captain, a large vessel has been spotted in the five o'clock direction..." Ensign Ernst-Busse, responsible for lookout duty on the command tower, pulled down the French flag bearing the emblem of the House of Bourbon and pointed towards the distant southeast.

  "Alright, get back inside quickly! We need to dive urgently and do something big!" Wedigen swiftly jumped onto the conning tower, scolding and standing at the hatch. After his soldiers all returned to the dimly lit and foul-smelling cabin, Wedigen then closed the heavy and sturdy hatch cover, and slid into the cabin with agility along the vertical ladder leading to the center of the conning tower.

  "Should we inform U-27 and U-30, which are foraging in the vicinity?" The eyes of Seaman First Class Fritz Lehse had not yet readjusted to the dim light inside the submarine when the voice of Communications Officer Paul Hausen echoed through the cramped space.

  "Take over from the deputy commander!" Otto-Wedingen shed his leather jacket and goggles, discarded his beloved riding whip, and the imperial soldier's mask-like calm composure seemed to take hold in an instant. With a bland expression, he stepped up to the central command cabin. "Paul-Hausen, sometimes... eating alone is a noble virtue!"

  The idle communications officer could only smile wryly and retreat back into his corner.

  "Dive, dive, depth ten meters!"

  "Dive emergency, depth ten meters!" The navigator read from the depth gauge on the control panel and turned his head to ask; "Captain, shall we raise the periscope?"

  "Not needed for now!"

  The submarine began to turn slightly to the right, at this time, Weddigen's expression was focused and confident, as if the naval major who had just hooked shoulders with his subordinates on the deck was not him. T- von - Leichtenu looked stupidly at the Imperial Navy Lieutenant Commander strolling leisurely on the deck, unable to distinguish which one was his true face.

  "Hard to port, stop starboard engine, go ahead one-third on port engine, maintain depth!"

  "Right car stops, left car moves forward one, depth maintained!"

  The air was thick, the cramped compartment hot and humid, the submarine crewmen in their shorts and T-shirts were silent, so that only the rumble of the engines and the sound of air exploding from the water outside could be heard.

  A century-old navy, the navy is an exceptionally particular military branch in terms of demeanor. This is because for any country in the world, warships are floating national territories on the ocean, so the navy symbolizes a nation's prestige and face. However, this principle does not include submarine troops.

  The sudden 'stealth' and 'concealment' of the submarine pursuit made these submariners live like mice in a dark, iron coffin-like tin can. Clothes were always wet and hot at any time, and the air was always turbid at any time. For submariners, ensuring good military appearance is an unimaginable and unattainable thing.

  Time passed minute by minute, and even after shedding his winter clothes, leaving only a thin sailor's trousers, the fine sweat still gathered recklessly on Teufel von Lechenu's face, gradually forming an endless waterfall that dripped onto the steel plate of the command cabin.

  "Right rudder, two ships in one, maintain course!" With a snap, the silence was broken as Wedigen's pocket watch was closed: "Raise the periscope, I need a battle report."

  The navigator was busy repeating the orders, while Graf von Liechtenstein was frantically raising the somewhat cumbersome periscope, carefully rotating its angle.

  "A large warship, and two smaller columns of smoke, heading northwest, forming a T with us!"

  "A large warship?" The deputy captain's face 'exposed' a joyful 'color', took over the periscope handle from Teufel von Lechenu, and brought his bloodshot eyes close to the lens tube. "It's not any of the British battleships or battle cruisers on file, nor is it French goods, damn..."

  The deputy captain realized something and frantically flipped through the ship's manual in his hand.

  "It's an Elizabeth-class!" Before the deputy captain could confirm his own guess, Wedigen calmly lifted the veil and gave new orders: "Paul-Hausen, I've changed my mind. Sometimes we have to be naughty too!"

  "Understood, Captain!" Paul Hausen rubbed his hands together and began fiddling with his beloved wireless radio, hastily sending out distress signals to U-26 and U-30.

  More and more subtle orders were given, the torpedo compartment at the bow of the ship was "stirring". The private looked on as Wedigen's fortunes rose and fell, continuing to ponder what seemed like an eternal question.

  "Young man, this is our captain." As if seeing through the young man's mental burden, the deputy captain walked over and pinched Teufelschreck in a sigh: "He is very straightforward, making you feel like spring breeze, but sometimes he is hateful, 'damn' it makes you want to punch him. This is our captain, the submarine king who can't be restrained by anyone except General Heide Sillim!"

  Water column on the deck 'fiercely' 'sways', black 'color' marks are heavily washed away, and then scrubbed hard with a mop. After repeated efforts, the HMS Indomitable finally reveals a glimpse of its Victorian-style naval paint job full of British flavor.

  "Roy, from the triumphant departure to now fleeing in disarray without any achievement, this feeling is terrible!" Michael Dawson said, standing up with a broom.

  Just like Dowson's resentment, the Elizabeth-class battleship, which was once regarded by the British as a powerful symbol, is now like an old 'woman' in her twilight years, sailing at 15 knots.

  The upper structure and sides of the Yamato were left with scars and devastation from the large fires, smoke, water columns and shrapnel. The crane was knocked askew, the lifeboats were reduced to a single piece, the flying bridge had vanished, and the steel plates on the funnel were pockmarked with holes and gashes of all sizes. Near the steering gear room, a large "hole" had been blown in the upper armor belt on the side, the horizontal armor deck was bulged upwards, the distorted slanting surface of the armored hatch, the deformed shipbuilding steel, and the completely destroyed steering machine, this scene left Yamato's crew despondent.

  "Fortunately, we're already on our way home!" Roy struggled to hold down the swaying high-pressure water dragon, adding with a mix of regret and relief. That deep night, the terrifying encounter battle, the Germans' sharp tactical maneuvering, and the fierce artillery had given Roy too many painful experiences, making this son of an English seaside town, who had heard stories of the Royal Navy's great victories since childhood and witnessed the Union Jack flying all over the world, realize that the unshakeable throne of the North Atlantic was already beginning to wobble, or... had changed hands.

  "Roy, unfortunately, maybe we can't go back..."

  A desperate cry from Dawson reached Roy's ears, but before he could seek the cause of his friend's distress a violent shock threw him off his balance. He fell heavily to the deck, and the hose slipped from his grasp, the pressure sending it writhing and twisting about the deck like a living thing.

  Dawson was hit, the iron water gun head shattered the handle of the mop and heavily smashed into Dawson's 'chest', smashing out a deep 'hole'. Dawson opened his mouth and spat out big mouthfuls of bloody foam, his pupils suddenly opening to their widest, with an expression of incredulity, he fell straight down.

  "Dawson, no!" Dawson's body was still convulsing on the deck. Roy went mad and stumbled to his feet, staggering as he tried to rush over. At that moment, another intense tremor shook the soles of his feet, and the warship shifted and tilted to the right. Roy lost his balance and fell to the ground, rolling several times before hitting his head against the steel plates on both sides of the sterncastle.

  His forehead split open with a gash several centimeters long, and fresh blood flowed into his eye sockets. Roy struggled to get up, opening his eyes to a world of crimson color.

  The destroyer on the starboard side and the 4-inch gun turret, 76mm rapid-fire gun and one-pounder gun in front fired desperately, creating a blood-red firepower net on the sea surface. Roy finally understood a fact:

  "Not a mine! It's a torpedo, it's a U-boat!"

  On 4 March 1915 at 7:57, the fast battleship HMS Tiger, which had withdrawn from the night action due to damage to her steering engine, was ambushed by a German U-boat while en route back to port. Otto Weddigen, later nicknamed "the Lord of the Sea" by Chinese naval enthusiasts, once again achieved unparalleled glory - thoroughly destroying a brand-new main battleship.

  The poor HMS Dreadnought never thought it would encounter a German submarine at its own 'doorstep'. After being hit by two torpedoes, the HMS Dreadnought barely survived thanks to the damage control team's desperate efforts. However, its keel had been damaged beyond repair, and even if repaired, the HMS Dreadnought could only exist as a basic training vessel. If the British were willing to let it go, it would be a ￡3 million naval basic training vessel!

  At 07:24 on July 19, 1915, the weather finally allowed the seaplanes of the High Seas Fleet to take off. Two wooden Friedrichshafen FF.33 seaplanes were lowered into the sea by derrick from the seaplane carrier Lübeck.

  By March 1915, Germany had only two seaplane carriers: the Zentrale für wissenschaftliche Luftschifffahrt (Central for Scientific Airship Flight) and the Otto Lilienthal. The former was named after Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin, who pioneered practical airships for the Empire; the latter was named after Otto Lilienthal, a pioneer of glider flight in Germany.

  These two seaplane carriers were converted from old merchant ships, although they carried the same Friedrichshafen FF.33 floatplanes, but from these two seaplane carriers' "nonsensical" island structures, some hints of a new era can be seen.

  It is clear that this is the credit of Wang Haitao's thesis. Although most naval personnel have reservations about the importance of aircraft with machine guns for future navies, any technologically advanced country will not easily relax its pursuit and attention to new technologies.

  The mainmast of the Li Lin Tal hung a flag with "Good Luck" written on it, and Lieutenant Hanna-Shaw sneered, throwing into the sea a photo of Felix von Luckner's sister, Countess Luckner, who was known for her fiery personality.

  "Alright, that's the real good luck!" The lieutenant pushed the pilot's goggles up onto his forehead, gave a big thumbs-up to Otto Desloch, the maintenance technician standing on the deck, nodded at Hans-Jürgen Stumpff, who was flying another Fw 33, and slowly advanced the throttle.

  The propellers began to rotate, the calm sea trembled, and the cumbersome seaplane slid a distance on the sea before shaking and climbing into the sky.

  "Oh no, I think I left some of the repair tools for the plane in the cockpit..." Maintenance technician Otto Deslo hummed "We're off to England", walking back and forth with a light step, when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, slapping himself on the back of the head in regret.

  ……