novelAbuy Chapter 413 God!
Chapter 413 God!
At 2 p.m., the two battleships passed the warning line in Heligoland Bay and entered the waters under the actual control of the German Navy. The fog had dissipated, and the summer sun shone on the dark gray hulls, giving the cold steel a warm golden hull.
On the deck of the "Yellow River," the sailors began the final cleaning work. They scrubbed the gun barrels, rinsed the deck, and straightened the ropes—although these ships would be handed over to the Germans in a few hours, the Lanfang Navy had its own pride: the equipment delivered had to be in the best condition.
Li Te changed into his formal military uniform in the captain's cabin. It was a dark blue Lanfang naval officer's uniform, with his shoulder boards re-attached, and the medals he had earned for participating in the East China Sea Naval Battle hanging on his chest.
He recalled Chen Feng's words at the Dubai dock when he saw him off: "General Li, this mission is not just about delivering two ships. You must show the Germans that Lanfang not only has advanced weaponry, but also professional, meticulous, and trustworthy soldiers. What we need to establish is not just trade relations, but long-term strategic mutual trust."
At that time, Liddell asked, "President, do you really believe Germany will win?"
Chen Feng did not answer directly, but said, "I believe that no matter who wins, the world will never return to what it was before 1914. What we need to do is to occupy a favorable position in the new world."
A knock on the door interrupted his reverie. Zhao Gang poked his head in: "General, the German lead ship is here. It's a light cruiser, and it's signaled for us to follow it into port."
Li Te straightened his collar one last time: "Notify the entire ship to prepare for handover. Tell the lads to maintain top military bearing. We represent Lanfang."
Port William, 9:7 AM, July 19.
The breakwaters, docks, and warehouse rooftops in the port area were packed with people. Naval officers and soldiers, shipyard workers, officers' families, and even civilians from nearby towns—more than 20,000 people gathered around the port just to catch a glimpse of the two legendary giant ships.
The piers have been cleared. The "Seydlitz" and "Mooch," which were undergoing repairs, were originally moored at deep-water piers one and two, but have now been temporarily towed to an anchorage outside the port area. Workers worked through the night to clean the pier floor and lay down brand-new crash barriers. The port authorities even deployed four fireboats, ready to spray water in salute as the warships entered the port—the highest level of welcoming ceremony.
On the observation deck on the third floor of the port authority building, Field Marshal Tirpitz stood alone. He was dressed in a full naval admiral's uniform, the dark blue wool fabric gleaming with a matte sheen in the morning light, and the medals hanging on his chest almost covered his entire left breast. But the sixty-seven-year-old admiral stood ramrod straight, his hands behind his back, his eyes fixed on the direction of the port entrance.
Behind him stood Chief of Staff Major General Trotta, the commander of the Wilhelmshaven base, and senior naval officials who had come from Berlin. Everyone held their breath in anticipation.
"They're here!" came the lookout's voice through the megaphone.
On the distant horizon, the first thing to appear was a column of smoke. Not one, but two, thick and straight, like the outstretched fingers of a giant reaching towards the sky. Then, the silhouette of the ship slowly rose from the horizon—first the mast, then the bridge, and finally the entire massive hull.
Even though they were mentally prepared, a suppressed gasp still erupted in the harbor when the two Bismarck-class battleships came into full view.
too big.
This was everyone's first impression. The "Frederick the Great" was the largest warship in the German Navy, with a standard displacement of 27000 tons. But the two ships in front of them looked to be a whole size larger than the "Frederick the Great." The long hull, the smooth lines, the compact superstructure, and those four twin-mounted main gun turrets—the gun barrels were so thick they were frightening.
"My God..." Major General Trota murmured.
Tirpitz remained silent. He picked up his binoculars and carefully observed every detail: the wave-breaking shape of the bow had clearly been optimized for hydrodynamics; the main gun turrets adopted a superfiring layout, allowing them to fire both forward and backward; the bridge was a tower structure integrating fire control, navigation, and communication functions; and a massive seaplane catapult was located aft of the funnel…
What alarmed him even more were the details: the armor belts on the sides of the hull were installed at an angle to increase the effective thickness; all the secondary guns adopted a casement design for better protection; the anti-aircraft gun positions were densely packed, with at least sixteen medium-caliber anti-aircraft guns...
"Marshal," the base commander said softly, "according to the data provided by Lan Fang in advance, the 'Yangtze River' and 'Yellow River' have a standard displacement of 41000 tons and a full load displacement of over 50000 tons. Their main guns are 380mm x 45 caliber, with armor-piercing shells weighing 800 kg and a maximum range exceeding 35000 meters. The thickest part of their armor is 360mm, and their speed is 30 knots..."
“I know the data,” Tirpitz interrupted him, putting down his binoculars, “but data on paper and seeing it with your own eyes are two different things.”
His feelings were extremely complicated. On the one hand, these two ships proved that the "ideal battleship" that the German Navy had pursued for twenty years was achievable—heavy firepower, heavy protection, and high speed, all in one. On the other hand, they weren't made in Germany, but in Lanfang. A country that didn't even exist twenty years ago, a place regarded by Europeans as "Far Eastern barbarians," had built warships more advanced than any other European country.
This is both a humiliation and an enlightenment.
The two giant ships began to turn, preparing to enter the harbor. Their movements were fluid and precise, completely lacking the clumsiness typical of large warships. The rudder was clearly excellent, and the propulsion system responded quickly.
"Their engine technology..." Trotta said in a low voice, "to achieve a speed of 30 knots, the output power must be at least 150,000 horsepower. Our 'Bavarian' class only has 48,000 horsepower."
Tirpitz nodded. That was his biggest concern. The Battle of Jutland proved that speed was life. The faster you could go, the more you could choose your battlefield, and the more you could decide whether to fight or not.
The "Yangtze River" was the first to enter the channel. The German light cruiser leading the way looked like a child's toy beside it. The port's fireboats began spraying water, dozens of jets of water forming arches in the air. The crowd on the dock erupted in cheers, hats were thrown into the air, and some people were even moved to tears.
This is Germany in July 1916. Verdun is bleeding, the Somme is about to burst, food rations are becoming increasingly strained, and death notices from the front are pouring in. People desperately need a glimmer of hope, desperately need to see something strong, beautiful, something that can prove Germany is still great.
These two steel behemoths perfectly satisfied this psychological need.