"It's hard to imagine, really hard to imagine!"
At midnight, inside the German command headquarters in Amsterdam, the voice of German naval officer Kurt Freck was particularly loud.
The overall commander, General von Richthofen, stood with his arms crossed, speaking matter-of-factly: "Four aerial torpedoes, seven submarine-launched torpedoes, can our Bismarck-class withstand such an attack?"
Freck glanced at him somewhat incredulously. "These two types of battleships were built for entirely different operational purposes. We've always believed that the Nelson-class is essentially a super shallow-water heavy gunboat, with armor thicker than any battleship we know!"
Though this response didn't directly compare the Bismarck-class to British vessels, Logan, standing nearby, caught Freck's implication: the Bismarck's defense wasn't as formidable!
"The Bismarck" held immense significance for the German Navy, something Logan was keenly aware of. He searched his memory for information about this German flagship. Fortunately, there was a documentary in later years detailing the life and times of the "Bismarck," which, even decades later, lay intact on the cold floor of the Atlantic. As for its sinking, scholars generally attributed it not only to the "luck" of the British naval aviation, and some flaws in the battleship itself, but also to the wrong decisions made by the German high command!
Now that the "Bismarck" had just been commissioned, Logan had plenty of time to change history—provided that the German Air Force was deployed effectively and existing aircraft were optimized. Even if the "Bismarck" found itself trapped in the Eastern Atlantic as in history, it wouldn't be in such an isolated position anymore, especially since the German military was striving to cross the formidable English Channel. Once the British mainland fell, the "Bismarck" would be liberated from the naval entrapment set by the British Navy! In the vast Atlantic, its astonishing speed of over 30 knots would have ample space to operate!
With these thoughts in mind, Logan envisioned a painting of unknown origin: a fleet flying the German naval flag bombarding the port of New York, with Bf-109s and He-111s roaring past the top of the Empire State Building. If such a day ever came, it would indeed be the pinnacle of dreams!
"Leaving such opponents alive will eventually become troublesome. I still think we should bring in the bombers stationed in France after daybreak—maybe just half of them as a precaution. We should concentrate our forces to eliminate them. What do you think?" Richthofen turned to Freck for his opinion.
Freck neither supported nor opposed the idea. "Given the current situation, I believe our submarines will exhaust all their torpedoes before dawn. If they still can't sink them... then it's up to the German Air Force!"
The final pressure fell on Logan. Though he was only a military orderly, the entire plan ultimately came from him and his staff. Coupled with the extra attention from the mustachioed leader, Richthofen couldn't easily change the established battle plan.
Logan calmly picked up the naval booklet from the table and flipped to the page introducing the Nelson-class battleships. Though some of the data inside were estimates, they generally reflected the technical capabilities of this formidable battleship.
"Horizontal deck armor ranging from 7 to 12 inches, command tower armor from 12 to 13 inches... My goodness, is it just an excessively thick iron box? To think such a thing can float and achieve speeds of over 20 knots..." Logan habitually scratched his chin and turned to Richthofen, head of the Air Force's dive bomber division. "Can a one-ton aerial armor-piercing bomb penetrate a 12-inch deck armor?"
A 1000-kilogram bomb is currently the largest aerial bomb in the German Air Force's arsenal. The Stuka can carry one under its fuselage for short-range bombing.
Richthofen hesitated. "In theory, no bomb can penetrate its deck armor in one go. But if two bombs hit the same spot..."
The air force general didn't need to say more; Logan understood the odds of such a scenario.
"Before dawn, our torpedo boats and fast torpedo boats can strike again!" Freck mused. "No warship is entirely invincible. The armor near its bottom should be the weakest point. With enough depth setting on our torpedoes, we might break through!"
"Do you think the captains will think of that?" Logan suddenly asked.
Freck turned to him. "They should!"
"Should we telegraph to remind them?" Logan suggested as an outsider.
Freck shook his head. "They're likely submerged and can't receive external radio signals! Perhaps... we should give the captains more confidence! Furthermore, aerial torpedoes can also be set for depth, albeit with limited power. The possibility of breaking through the Nelson-class defenses is relatively smaller!"
After deliberation, the three men decided to continue sending torpedo bombers and trained HE-111 squadrons to attack the slow-moving British fleet heading north. Since being intercepted by German submarines, they had only traveled 19 nautical miles in two hours, even slower than the viib-class submarines' diving speed!
At midnight, inside the German submarine U-100, which had resurfaced to periscope depth, the young, handsome, and charismatic super-submarine captain Joachim Skik was shocked by the sight before him. "God, I can't believe it, they're still afloat!"
"Can I take a look?" Falkenberg squeezed in. The dimness of the starlight was inconsequential now; the burning British cruiser indicated the direction for the Germans in the darkness, with two massive battleships not far off. Illuminated by the firelight, their icy bodies appeared resilient, yet thick black smoke billowed from their sides or sterns, polluting the air above the sea.
Skik sighed. "The one in the front was hit at least three times by us—three torpedoes and it's still afloat. It's truly the work of the British! The one in the back should have been hit twice, but it seems to be fine—at least on the surface!"
"Perhaps they're already in chaos and suffering heavy casualties inside?" Falkenberg consoled, inferring from the previous explosions. Both Nelson-class ships had endured no less than 20 torpedoes. Even if half of them were detonated near the hull, the fact that none had sunk was quite astonishing!
Skik took off his military cap and ran his hand through his golden hair. Somewhat provocatively, he said, "How many torpedoes do we have left?"
"Four, two aft, two bow!" Falkenberg responded without hesitation.
"Set depth to 9.5 meters!" Skik ordered casually. Twenty minutes ago, during the second round of torpedo shots, he had instructed the crew to set the depth at 8 meters, but it didn't seem to have the desired lethal effect.
"Seems a bit risky!" Falkenberg, being more cautious by nature, remarked.
Skik leisurely put his cap back on. "No risk, no gain, right? Worst case, we turn around and use our rear end against the British fleet!"
Falkenberg didn't insist further and ordered, "Torpedoes set at 9.5 meters, prepare the two bow torpedoes!"
During the wait for torpedo adjustments and reloading, Skik didn't cling to the periscope. The two British battleships appeared "healthy," but their slow speed indicated some issues.
"I heard... you've had combat experience alongside that crazy guy?" Falkenberg knew who he was referring to. "Well, it was quite thrilling on that British minesweeper. I thought I was either going to die or become a British prisoner. But as it turned out... I ended up under your command!"
Skik laughed. "Hey, he's one of the few who dared to challenge Hermann Göring!"
Whether it was flattery or mockery, Falkenberg couldn't discern from Skik's tone, but it certainly wasn't sharp sarcasm.
"Anyway, the operation at White Island was a very bold and successful one. Let's hope this time... we can achieve a huge victory too!"
Skik added, "Absolutely! Without his eccentric thinking, we wouldn't have been able to catch monsters like the Nelson-class! They're called the guardians of the North Sea exit by the British!"
"Do you think... we can occupy England?"
Falkenberg appeared somewhat less confident.
"Of course!" Skik responded without hesitation.
"And then?" Falkenberg inquired.
"And then? Well, the British government, like the French, either chooses surrender or relocates to Canada with the royal family to continue resisting German aggression on their federal territory. Our mission shifts from blockading the British mainland to attacking ships all around the British Commonwealth. Perhaps one day in the future, we'll venture into the Mediterranean, Indian Ocean, or even the Pacific! It's said... shuttling between today and yesterday is quite an interesting thing!" Skik said whimsically.
"You mean between today and yesterday?" Falkenberg chuckled.
"Hey, there are plenty of interesting things in this world anyway!"
The two conversed for a while until a report finally came from the bow torpedo compartment: "Torpedoes ready!"
"Let's put an end to this noisy night!" Skik smiled at his deputy, grasped the handles of the periscope, judged the position and distance of the target with his naked eye, and then launched the torpedoes...
Five hours later, dawn was breaking.
A squadron of dark-painted Stukas approached slowly from the southeast, each carrying exceptionally round black bombs under its fuselage. The pilots eagerly scanned the direction close to the British coastline and soon found the stranded behemoth.
The HMS Nelson, still flying the Union Jack, had run aground here after successive attacks by German torpedo bombers and submarines the previous night. The pockmarked holes on its hull testified to the intensity of the nocturnal battle. On the deck, along with the nine large main guns, all the smaller guns that could still operate were pointed skyward, ready to meet the onslaught of the German Luftwaffe. However, how could a disabled surface vessel withstand the successive attacks of enemy bombers?
At 11:49 a.m. on September 8th, the 19th heavy aerial bomb dropped by German dive bombers pierced through the large hole on the forward deck of the HMS Nelson, directly penetrating the armor of the ammunition magazine and into the main gun ammunition magazine. At 11:50 and 11 seconds, at the moment when the time-delay fuse was activated, the colossal sea beast with a displacement of 38,000 tons and the 1321 officers and men aboard were permanently frozen in the annals of history...
Seven days later, German submarine commander Joachim Skik was awarded the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross for his outstanding performance in the "Purple Eggplant" ambush operation. Historians widely believe that this handsome "underwater demon" began to enter the view of the Imperial high command from this battle onwards, eventually becoming one of the iconic figures of the German Navy submarine force.