Chapter 1: The Golden Scraggak (4)

  (Brothers, when typing, be sure to add a separator, just four asterisks, Xia Yu doesn't even use it to make up the word count...)

  The setting sun returned to the warship, and the huge military port suddenly lit up.

  More than 3,200 officers and men were killed in action, more than 1,300 officers and men were seriously injured. The news of General Heidekamp's death was temporarily blocked in the command room, while the great victory at Skagerrak was quickly transmitted by wireless telegraphy. Although the residents of Wilhelmshaven held a grand celebration spontaneously, they did not know that the German Navy still had some insufficient momentum.

  Dockworkers and civilian sailors were the first to witness this, anxious military personnel and Wilhelmshaven residents soon followed, counting on their fingers the familiar German battleships.

  "King... Caesar... Helgoland... Nassau... Derfflinger... Seydlitz... Moltke..."

  More accurate news came from the mouths of sailors and wounded soldiers who walked down from the warships: The undefeated Aris of the Imperial Navy did not disappoint everyone, sinking four British battlecruisers at the cost of one Germania-class battlecruiser sunk and one heavily damaged. General Scheer sank three British main battleships with two old-fashioned battleships, damaging at least five; the submarine king Weddigen's destruction of the British HMS Fearless was the most dramatic ending to this prolonged sea battle.

  The news spread like wildfire, some people were disheartened, some were frightened out of their wits, and some were overjoyed. Those who were disheartened were the families waiting for the return of the Deutschland, the spies of the Entente, and those socialists with a different view; those who were frightened out of their wits were the journalists from neutral countries and the sailors on merchant ships; while those who were overjoyed belonged to the North Sea.

  Everyone knows that the situation at sea will be completely different after the Battle of North Sea, but this is something for those big shots, staff officers and military academy students to worry about. What we need to do now is enjoy our victory!

  The sailors were greeted by the sound of coastal artillery and the frantic blowing of merchant ships' whistles. The champagne of victory was smashed, young people with hot blood raised colorful flags, girls in Wilhelm Harbour threw flowers, children chased after wounded soldiers being carried to hospital, putting blessings and some nameless small flowers into the hands of sailors.

  The German sailors, who returned from the battle, were exhausted but they liked the feeling of victory. They enjoyed the taste of glory and stood in a row on the deck, giving a German military salute to the crowd on the shore!

  The night was already deep, and Japanese designer Fujimoto Kikuo sent a hastily written report on the Battle of Jutland to Japan's naval attaché in London; Italy, Giolitti's assistant was still busy notifying members of parliament; US President Wilson, who had been cornered by Theodore Roosevelt-led Republicans, could finally breathe a sigh of relief and continue to adhere to the principle of neutrality; Austria-Hungary, which owned four Entente powers, finally shifted its gaze from the intense battle in Przemy?l southward, focusing on the weakly defended Suez Canal; In Wilhelmshaven, bonfires and all-night parades continued to celebrate, "We will hoist our flag high and not let the British swagger!" The powerful lyrics of "We're Marching to England" seemed to drift across the ocean, echoing in the air above the High Seas Fleet.

  Jade Bay, several destroyers are patrolling, powerful searchlights occasionally sweeping over the dead calm sea.

  The waves gently rocked the tired iron giant, in the cramped and harsh environment of the rest cabin, the returning sailors fell asleep on their hammocks due to the intense battle and continuous voyage. There were also sailors who couldn't sleep, most of the main fleet's sailors participated in a sea battle for the first time, won for the first time, they hadn't learned how to enjoy the feeling of victory yet.

  "Schrell, are you asleep?" Gustav Jeseritzki, the eighteen-year-old left gun layer on the Derfflinger's 150-centimeter turret from Kiel, pushed aside the thin blanket and reached out to nudge Junior Lieutenant Fritz Schrell, who was sleeping in the adjacent hammock, with an uncertain tone.

  "What's wrong?" Franz Scherlen, the gunner from Hamburg, opened one eye with difficulty and grumbled sleepily.

  "Sublieutenant, did we really defeat the invincible Royal Fleet? Are we truly the masters of the North Atlantic as General Sylem promised?" Gustav-Jeseritzki, who had been unable to sleep, finally found someone to talk to. He turned over, propped himself up on one elbow, his arm resting on a military jacket reeking of booze, and leaned against the gently swaying hammock, voicing the questions that had occupied him for the entire night.

  "The King of the North Atlantic is not yet in a position to be discussed, and this battle has indeed left the British severely wounded, but the foundation of Britain's century-long accumulation is still there. As long as the British can hold on through the most difficult passive 1915, their strong shipbuilding potential will allow the Royal Navy to recover to a level close to that of the High Seas Fleet." The current Gustav von Jesseritz is exactly like himself after the Battle of Dogger Bank. Franz Scheeren, who has been serving in the navy for five years, yawned and glanced at the over-excited young man with the corner of his mouth involuntarily rising: "However, we did defeat the invincible Royal Navy, leaving the proud British people helpless within a year. Moreover, after the North Sea battle, no matter how hard the British try, their strength cannot be restored to the pre-war level of about 1.5!"

  "So we will become heroes of Germany just like General Seydlitz, right?"

  "Of course!" Scheren's last bit of drowsiness was finally dispelled by the young man's naive idea, and he also turned over and leaned on the bed, raising an eyebrow and teasing: "Maybe tomorrow you'll receive countless letters from girls."

  "I don't even look up to them!" The young man's pale face quickly flushed with two red clouds, he dug out a photo from the deep pocket of his military uniform under his arm and said proudly: "Sarah-Kona, Tim Kregel's beautiful girl, my girl."

  "Are you a student at Tim Kr?ger Middle School? Then aren't you General Sylem's junior?" Scheren was all too familiar with Commander Heidy-Sylem's resume.

  “Of course…” Gustav Jesseritzki's youthful face flushed with pride and boastfulness: “Even before the outbreak of war, the General had rebuked the Navy Ministry for its seriously delayed preparations, accusations that were widely regarded as prophetic during the war; at the beginning of the war, the Commander-in-Chief tirelessly sought out opportunities for battle, using a series of small but brilliant victories to stabilize the wavering morale of the Navy; in the subsequent Battle of Heligoland Bight and the Battle of Dogger Bank, the General did not hesitate to put himself in harm's way, dealing a major blow to the Royal Navy. The Commander-in-Chief is our city hero of Kiel, even the ignorant Konstanze is his admirer, and the mayor plans to erect a bust of the General in front of St. Nicholas' Church!”

  In the dim yellow light of the sailors' rest quarters, Gustav Jeseritzky counted off on his fingers the achievements made by Silem in less than a year. The young man's list consisted entirely of phrases repeated ad nauseam in newspaper editorials, and Unteroffizier Schtjeren didn't contradict him, his mind involuntarily recalling the Berlin Daily News' evaluation of the general:

  "Heidemarie Steffen is just the person Germany needs, a perfect blend of an empire on the rise, naval tradition and personal charisma."

  The imperial masses have long worshipped Wehlem, although Scherl was not enthusiastic about the anti-naval stance of the Berliner Tageblatt, but he very much agreed with the Berliner Tageblatt's incisive analysis of this worship.

  The German nation appeared very early on this land, but the maturity of national consciousness was quite late. So when the German soldiers cleared the thorns and completed the national unity with three iron-blooded wars, Germany had already missed the favorable time to divide the world in the era of great navigation.

  Although this is the case, Germany was after all a young nation in its ascendant phase, and the iron and blood spirit of the old Chancellor had not yet dissipated. The young empire was full of pioneering spirit, and its people were not opposed to war. This characteristic made Tirpitz's insistence on an active naval offensive possible, and Tirpitz also interpreted this national character with an active offensive. Therefore, all naval personnel supported Admiral von Tirpitz under the pressure of conservatives in the Navy Department, willing to entrust their lives and careers to him.

  In any major maritime power with a strong oceanic tradition, the struggle between nobility and commoners is an unavoidable issue. However, the German Navy was young enough that reasonable competition and relatively fair promotion channels made the conflict between nobles and commoners less intense in Germany, so whether it was a naval officer from the nobility or a commoner who shared his views, they could view General von Seidel with a sense of inclusiveness.

  Finally, General Xilai has a unique charm. This charm is not based on deep family traditions or ancestral glory, but rather on his profound knowledge, breathtaking strategic vision, and exquisite naval skills. What's even more valuable is that the general is not aloof, but rather has a down-to-earth side, such as his embarrassing love of drinking, his stubborn and unreasonable favoritism, his eloquent speech, and his notorious fear of his wife in the navy.

  What moved the somewhat philosophically biased nation even more was the tragic color on General Silaem's body. General Silaem came from a poor family, had no prominent background, and had no support from nobles. Silaem relied solely on his own strength to stand out in the navy. The Germans have always revered knowledge, which can be seen from how easily Redel navigated the Imperial Navy. The general refused the admission letter from Berlin University, which was enough to drive young people in the empire crazy, and chose the then-unknown navy instead, solely based on this point, it is enough to make Germany adore him.

  In 1898, due to a fierce dispute with the Minister of the Navy over strategic direction, the general was exiled abroad for sixteen years, which undoubtedly added a lot of tragic elements to the general. Moreover, in the Battle of Dogger Bank, Seydlitz led three main battleships as bait and fought to the death, helping the High Seas Fleet achieve its final victory. This fact is even more heart-stirring for the Germans with a strong sense of tragedy.

  "Jesselitzky said that the Grand Fleet's action was not approved by the Staff, at least not in those few hours after we sailed..."

  At the dinner party celebrating the victory, Wilhelm brought barrels of champagne onto the warship, and the cooks were waving their knives preparing their signature dishes, while Captain Ludwig von Reuter was sighing in the corner.

  It's hard to imagine the Germans' persistence in discipline and obedience, the young man's complacent expression solidified for a moment, and it was a long time before he asked nervously: "At least we won, no one will hold the winner accountable, right?"

  "Have you forgotten the naval political storm before the Battle of the Summit?"

  On March 5, 1915, when the first light of dawn fell on the beautiful land of Germany, many lazy housewives were still snuggled up with their men in a deep sleep. Meanwhile, newsboys who worked part-time to supplement their family income were already carrying urgent extra editions of German newspapers through the streets.

  "Extra! Extra! The Rhine News: General Westheim leads the Grand Fleet to victory over the Royal Navy in the Skagerrak Strait!"

  "Extra, extra! Frankfurter Finanzzeitung: General Sylem anticipated the Royal Navy's plan in advance and urgently mobilized the fleet to intercept the British invasion fleet, foiling the British plot at one stroke!"

  "Laura, what's the newsboy saying?" The men rubbed their eyes sleepily, woke up their wives and perked up their ears to confirm the news.

  "It seems the navy won, defeating the British...". The housewives rubbed their eyes lazily and were immediately shocked to see men wearing pajamas rushing out into the chilly morning air.

  "Give me a newspaper, the one with the most news!" The man shouted while blowing his nose and using his hands and feet to squeeze into the crowd towards the newspaper boy, then awkwardly heard the newspaper boy's mournful voice.

  "I took two hundred copies of the newspaper, and in less than half a minute they were all gone, really all gone..."

  The same scene was repeated on the morning of March 5 in Ibenhausen, a small town outside Munich.

  The aged former Imperial Navy Minister Tirpitz unleashed the dog chain, letting the black sheepdog run wildly.

  "Haha, the game has begun!" Tirpitz carefully gathered up those newspapers and tucked them under his arm.

  "Has the game started?" Unconsciously, the newspaper had already been flipped to the last page. Wang Haitie subconsciously pulled out a small, exquisite bottle of rum from under her quilt, sipping it in small mouthfuls while leisurely commenting on the situation.

  "Nurse, I think my frostbite on the right leg hasn't fully recovered yet. You don't have to rush me into a recovery room where I won't be able to see you..." The door was pushed open and instead of the fierce Annie, it was a tall and stout man with a nearly bald head and some remaining hair, who had been chattering non-stop since he entered.

  "Colonel Hoffman, can you please keep it down?" The pretty nurse, annoyed at the colonel's chatter, hastily settled him in and walked away.

  The principal awkwardly touched his nearly bald head and only then noticed that he still had a patient.

  "Haha, young man, you really look like... just like the person advertised in the newspaper."