Chapter 268: The Royal Navy Home Fleet with Only 20 Battleships Left |
With the dust settling on the Taranto-Sicily-Malta series of naval battles, the balance of maritime power in the Mediterranean underwent an earth-shattering change.
The Britannia Mediterranean Fleet had been nearly wiped out, leaving behind only a handful of destroyers, minesweepers, and auxiliary supply ships.
The Franks' dreadnoughts had also been wiped out. Only six Danton-class ships survived, forced to hole up in Malta's Port of Valletta, not daring to move for the time being.
The Demanians' Black Sea Fleet was also almost entirely destroyed. Only the heavily crippled Goeben remained, requiring over a year of repairs, making it virtually impossible for it to participate in the foreseeable future. Their high-speed light cruisers had also been entirely lost.
Only two Wittelsbach-class pre-dreadnoughts, a few armored cruisers, some outdated protected cruisers, fewer than ten high-speed destroyers, and twenty-odd submarines were still capable of fighting.
Austria's dreadnoughts had also suffered one sunk, two heavily damaged, and one moderately damaged. Currently, they had no dreadnoughts fit for combat. The Prinz Eugen could recover its combat capability within six months, while the Viribus Unitis and Tegetthoff would need up to a year.
However, Austria still possessed three Radetzky-class pre-dreadnoughts—which bordered on semi-dreadnought capabilities—along with three relatively decent Maria Theresia-class armored cruisers.
Thus, the Allied Forces still had a cumulative total of five pre-dreadnoughts (three strong, two weak) and five armored cruisers ready for battle.
On the Entente side, the six Danton-class ships could suppress the Alliance's five pre-dreadnoughts, and their remaining light vessels could still barely hold the line.
If the Entente did not dispatch more dreadnoughts or battlecruisers, those three former Italian battleships would be the only battleships left in the Mediterranean.
To preserve order in the Mediterranean and slowly clear the temporarily blocked Suez Canal, Britannia had no choice but to hold another emergency meeting at the Admiralty in Downing Street on the night of June 21, drawing off yet more warships for the Mediterranean theater.
"How did the Battle of Malta turn out like this! Robeck's command abilities have massive flaws! Just like that, the Barham was taken out by submarines for nothing, all because he neglected his screening lines and couldn't bear to risk his escort ships!
"If our ace combat asset, the Barham, hadn't been ambushed, the entire outcome of the battle could have been reversed!"
"The Franks too! To think the Courbet-class had such a massive design flaw! The worst part is they completely failed to keep it a secret. The Demanians figured out its exact performance limits and devised specific tactics against it! Otherwise, if those four Courbet-class ships could have fully unleashed their potential, they might have turned the tide!"
At the start of the meeting, before deciding which warships to dispatch, the attendees first broke into a heated argument, eager to analyze the causes of the defeat and assign blame.
They called it analysis, but their main effort was spent passing the buck. The ultimate conclusion was that Robeck's command had major issues, and their allies' battleship designs and performance also had major issues.
If they had simply avoided even one of these two blunders, they might have clawed back the disadvantage. If they had avoided both, it would have been a decisive victory. But they just had to commit both errors!
With this established, the scapegoats were identified, and everyone felt a little better. At the very least, the burden of responsibility on the living had lightened, and they had more confidence in continuing to send reinforcements. After all, next time, they just needed to learn their lesson and not repeat those mistakes.
If they couldn't even pinpoint the problem, that would be true despair. The officers and men would worry that sending more reinforcements was just sending them to die in vain.
Moreover, although they had suffered a defeat with a total battleship loss ratio of 4 to 7—a net deficit of three ships—the Royal Navy generally believed that this loss was primarily caused by the Franks.
Before the Franks entered the fray, the exchange ratio had been 3 to 3. The Royal Navy and the Demania-Italy allied forces had fought to a draw. The catastrophic collapse later on was entirely due to the sickening design flaws of the Courbet-class!
With this report submitted upward, the Admiralty temporarily didn't need anyone to resign in disgrace. Everyone could continue serving the country and redeeming themselves.
"Italy has three battleships that will definitely be transferred to the Demanians. Currently in the Mediterranean, our pre-dreadnoughts and vessels below armored cruiser status can barely hold the enemy down. The critical issue is that our battleships are wiped out. Tell me, what ships should we dispatch to lock down the situation? Do we still need to send high-speed battlecruisers?"
After steadying everyone's morale, Minister Edward Carson posed this crucial question to the admirals of the Home Fleet.
Admiral John Jellicoe, commander of the Home Fleet, Vice Admiral David Beatty, commander of the Battlecruiser Squadron, and Vice Admiral Horace Hood of the Channel Fleet exchanged glances, hesitant to answer immediately.
In the end, it was Horace Hood of the Channel Fleet, feeling his rank carried the least weight, who offered some preliminary thoughts to get the discussion going: "Why not have the Franks send all three of their Bretagne-class battleships? The Italians have three battleships, and the Franks also have three. Besides, battleship superiority isn't about numbers; as long as the main guns hold a generational advantage, victory is assured.
"The Franks use 340mm main guns, while those three Italian ships still use older 305mm main guns. They should be able to suppress them. Furthermore, dispatching Frankish warships won't affect the strategic deployment of our Home Fleet and Channel Fleet.
"Previously, the Frankish Navy placed the Courbet-class in the Mediterranean Fleet and the Bretagne-class in the Atlantic Fleet specifically because the Courbet-class had flaws. Its seaworthiness was too poor, making it only suitable for the calm Mediterranean.
"If they had just trusted the Royal Navy to handle the entire Atlantic Ocean from the start and piled all seven of their battleships into the Mediterranean, we wouldn't be facing this situation right now!"
Admiral Horace Hood's suggestion deeply moved Minister Edward Carson.
Not having to mobilize any more Royal Navy warships and relying entirely on their allies would obviously be best.
However, did the Frankish Navy truly have that capability?
Recalling the disastrous performance of the Courbet-class, even Minister Carson couldn't help but waver.
Frankish equipment often looked fine on paper, but the moment it was integrated into a unified combat system, all sorts of bizarre coordination issues would crop up, ultimately preventing those paper stats from being fully realized.
In contrast, only the navies of the Brit Nation and Demania were solid military forces capable of fully unleashing their theoretical strength in practice.
Of course, the Frankish forces would be facing Italian-made battleships this time, and the Italian Navy was equally notorious for its unreliability.
"Do any of you know the maximum elevation angle of the main guns on the Bretagne-class battleships? Does its range still have a fatal flaw the enemy could exploit to batter us?" Minister Carson asked, needing to confirm this detail.
No one could answer. From Jellicoe to Beatty to Hood, they all indicated that the issue required investigation.
Left with no other choice, Carson spent half the night communicating with the Franks through diplomatic channels to ascertain the situation.
In truth, the Franks had already corrected the issues of the Courbet-class on the Bretagne-class, as all three Bretagne-class ships were only launched in 1915 and completed later. During their construction, the Battle of Dunkirk had erupted, and the limitations of Dunkirk's coastal defense guns had already begun to show.
After the Franks evaluated the data, they fine-tuned the design, ensuring the Bretagne-class main guns could reach a maximum elevation of 18 degrees, pushing their extreme range from the 15,000 meters of the Courbet-class up to 21,000 meters.
Historically, after World War I, considering the advancements in fire control and the likelihood of battleship engagement distances pushing even further, the Franks refurbished the Bretagne-class main turrets in 1924. The M1924 main turrets increased their elevation to 24 degrees, extending the extreme range to 26,000 meters.
But this time, the Franks were clearly terrified by the catastrophic destruction of the Courbet-class, plunging into a state of overcorrection. Having just suffered such heavy losses, they desperately wanted to prevent their newest capital ships from being wiped out, hoping to preserve some seeds of their battleship fleet.
Thus, out of self-interest, the Frankish Minister of the Navy lied to the Britannians.
He claimed: "The Bretagne-class also suffers from insufficient main gun elevation. We have already urgently scheduled them for drydock refitting, so they won't be deploying in the short term.
"But we guarantee that within six months, these ships will have their maximum range increased to 25,000 meters, matching the reach of your Lion-class battlecruisers and Orion-class battleships with their 13.5-inch guns. Once modified, they will immediately coordinate with Royal Navy operations."
This hasty, emergency refit by the Franks was actually a classic case of a band-aid fix—plugging one glaring, fatal loophole only to introduce a slew of new problems.
After all, the original pitch and roll stability of the Bretagne-class was already quite good, and its center of gravity was well-balanced. Hastily elevating the turrets would inevitably degrade the hull's navigational stability and raise the center of gravity.
Worse still, forcing an upgrade to a 24-degree elevation using 1916 technology naturally fell short of the engineering standards of the Earth timeline's 1924 refit.
Turrets 1, 3, and 5 were fine, as they sat directly on the main deck. But Turrets 2 and 4 were superfiring, positioned behind and above 1 and 5. With 1 and 5 raised, the barbettes and ammunition hoists for 2 and 4 had to be raised as well. Since the Franks couldn't completely replace the hoists and barbettes, their stopgap measure was to weld or rivet an extra extension onto the original barbettes for Turrets 2 and 4.
Welding techniques in 1916 were immature, offering less structural strength than riveting an extension. Warships subjected to such rushed modifications were doomed to harbor a hidden peril: this "extra neck" bolted onto the barbettes of Turrets 2 and 4 would be incredibly fragile.
Originally, the armor on the upper superfiring barbettes was designed to withstand armor-piercing shells of the same caliber, capable of resisting 340mm or even 350mm AP rounds. Now, this newly attached seam was so weak it couldn't even withstand a 280mm AP shell.
If luck ran out and the "neck" of Turret 2 or 4 took a direct hit, the shell would punch straight through to the ammunition hoist.
The Franks had evaluated this risk but ultimately concluded: "Future naval engagement distances will inevitably grow longer. As long as the shells fall at an angle greater than 20 degrees, long-range plunging fire will be caught by the turret roof above the barbette and won't strike the 'neck' of the barbette itself. Therefore, it is not a major issue. Unless they encounter a close-range naval battle under 15 kilometers where enemy AP shells fly on a flat trajectory, it is impossible for the 'neck' to be hit. Thus, this risk is small enough to be ignored."
This lesson didn't just push the Franks into overcorrection; the Britannians also drew massive conclusions regarding their own battleship designs.
Although they wouldn't go so far as to modify their existing battleships directly, they universally adopted new ideas for the battleships they planned to build.
The upper echelons of the Brit Nation's naval design department unanimously agreed: the advancement of fire control and optical targeting technology was an unstoppable historical tide. The distance between engaging battleships in the future would undoubtedly continue to stretch.
The Franks had lost four battleships precisely because they failed to see this trend!
Therefore, even if the current maximum range for precision fire was only 20 kilometers, they had to prepare for it to become 25 kilometers, 30 kilometers, or even further!
From now on, the gun barrel elevation of all main turrets must guarantee at least thirty-odd degrees! Ideally, they should reach 40 or even 45 degrees!
As a result, the Britannians fell into the same pitfall as the Fuso Navy of the Earth timeline. On Earth, the Fuso obsession was: "Future artillery duels might happen at a distance of 40 kilometers, so the bridge must be built as high as the unregulated superstructures of the Fuso or Yamato, and the main guns must be able to reach 45 degrees."
Later on, Chouguo, which lacked real naval combat experience, was inevitably influenced by its closely entangled counterpart, wandering into the same Britannian fallacy.
But these practices of raising the bridge and maximizing gun elevation came with heavy costs.
The higher the bridge, the more tonnage was wasted, and concentrating equipment excessively reduced system reliability. If the bridge took a hit, the equipment lost would be devastating due to that high concentration.
A towering bridge also exacerbated the hull's pitch and roll, degrading navigational performance and rendering it ill-suited for harsh sea conditions like strong winds and rough waves.
Increasing the main gun elevation also made the turrets thicker and taller, adding weight, slightly slowing the reload speed, and forcing the front of the turret to occupy more protective armor.
In reality, if a transmigrator like Lelouch had been present, he would have stood as a pillar of certainty and seen right through this overcorrection: any battleship main gun elevation exceeding 30 degrees was pure redundancy and waste.
The longest-range moving-to-moving battleship hit in the Earth timeline was a mere 24 kilometers (the 1940 hit by HMS Warspite on Giulio Cesare, and the Scharnhorst/Gneisenau hit on the aircraft carrier HMS Glory that same year, both tied at 24 kilometers for the longest moving-to-moving record). The longest moving-to-stationary hit record managed to stretch to 31 kilometers (hitting a fixed target).
So if Lelouch were designing a battleship, or at least designing one for the immediate next war, he would only balance the specs around a maximum range of just over 30 kilometers and build all supporting systems around that metric, refusing to waste tonnage on unnecessary performance.
Because enemy ships move. No matter how perfectly you aim, a shell flying 25 kilometers takes over a minute to arrive. That minute is plenty of time for the enemy ship to turn and evade.
Even if you aimed perfectly at the start, the shot would miss by the time it landed.
That buffer between 30 and 40 kilometers was pure waste. If they were really waiting for 40-kilometer artillery duels to happen, they'd be better off waiting for the invention of guided missiles.
With the Franks dead set on modifying their own battleships first, the Brit Nation was left helpless, forced to abandon their attempt to squeeze their allies once again.
Fortunately, the Royal Navy still had warships available; with a little squeezing, they could manage to scrounge up three ships.
After confirming the situation, Minister Edward Carson could only ask Jellicoe and the others to figure out how to scrape them together.
After a round of discussion, the three admirals produced the most sustainable plan: "Why not send out the Canada and the Erin? Both of these were primarily export ships seized right when the war broke out the year before last, similar to the situation with the Agincourt. Transferring them to the Mediterranean will simplify the logistical maintenance of the Home Fleet without adding too much operational cost.
"We'll add an Orion-class, which also uses 13.5-inch main guns, ensuring we don't face any numerical disadvantage."
Minister Carson thought it over and accepted the proposal.
The previously mentioned export ship Agincourt was highly famous. On one hand, it was the prized creation of the "seven-turret cult," and on the other, the ship carried immense diplomatic significance, ultimately pushing Osman over to the enemy side.
But the Britannians' dirty habit of "seizing warships that other countries had already paid for the moment war broke out" extended far beyond just that one incident.
The Erin and the Canada were both products of this exact behavior. The Erin had also been ordered by Osman before the war, meaning Osman had effectively been robbed of two ships. The Canada had been ordered by the Chilean Navy and renamed after being seized.
With a stroke of Minister Carson's pen, three battleships armed with 13.5-inch main guns were reassigned to the Mediterranean Fleet.
Since their main guns were universally a full size larger than the Italians' 12-inch guns, coupled with the fact that Brit sailors were far more elite than the Italians, a 3-on-3 matchup would guarantee an absolute crushing victory.
If Austria's Viribus Unitis-class showed signs of being repaired in the future, they could allocate another one or two ships to the Mediterranean in six months, or by then, they could force the Franks to drag their Bretagne-class down to guard the turf.
Having pulled away three more battleships, Minister Carson also began to worry about the defensive posture of the Home Fleet. Taking advantage of tonight's meeting, he asked Jellicoe and the others to audit their ledgers once more.
The Royal Navy currently possessed a total of 22 battleships, all dreadnoughts and super-dreadnoughts.
Their pre-dreadnoughts had been completely liquidated—not a single one remained in stock; all had been destroyed by the Demanians.
Now that three battleships were being pulled to the Mediterranean, the homeland was left with exactly 19 ships, composed of the following:
Dreadnought: 1, St. Vincent: 3, Colossus-class: 2, Orion-class: 3, King George V: 3, Iron Duke: 5, Queen Elizabeth: 2.
They had 6 battlecruisers left:
Invincible: 2, Indefatigable: 1, Lion-class: 3.
Opposing them, the Demania High Seas Fleet currently held 17 battleships:
Nassau: 2, Sevastopol: 2, Helgoland: 4, Kaiser: 5, König: 4.
Rumor had it that two Bayern-class ships had also been completed, which would have bumped their total to 19. However, according to Royal Navy intelligence probes, because the naval gun designs of those two Bayern-class ships were too aggressive, the SMS Baden had suffered a catastrophic barrel explosion. This forced the SMS Bayern to be hauled back for a gun swap. They were currently at the Riga shipyard in the east, undergoing major overhauls without occupying drydocks.
Naturally, the Royal Navy didn't count those two new ships, putting the total at 17 rather than 19.
In terms of battlecruisers, the main Demania homeland fleet had the SMS Von der Tann and four Derfflinger-class ships, totaling 5.
The gap in battleship strength between the two homeland fleets had astonishingly narrowed to 19 to 17, and the battlecruiser gap had shrunk to 6 to 5.
The Royal Navy still held a slight edge, but there was absolutely no room left for error. They had to be exceptionally cautious in the days to come.
Thinking back to the Royal Navy's golden days, their main fleet had been at least 1.5 times the size of Demania's, pushing close to double.
Now they had been battered down to being a mere 15% to 20% larger than the enemy.
The situation was incredibly grim.
