As the vast fleet of landing ships, comprising vessels from France, Portugal, Spain, and Germany, slowly sailed into the Bristol Bay, Cardiff Port, which had long been shrouded in the gloom of war, suddenly exhibited a distorted prosperity.
"General, welcome to Britain's most renowned port. How does it feel to set foot on British soil?" Logan extended his right hand with a beaming smile towards Army General Georg Lindemann. Not only was Lindemann two ranks higher than him, according to the deployment plan, the defense of the entire Cardiff was about to be handed over to this Wehrmacht officer along with his staff team!
"Colonel Logan, it's a pleasure to meet you here. The feeling of Britain... well, a bit swaying!" Lindemann grimaced as he held his head in pain, clearly indicating that this excellent Marine Corps commander was seasick.
"Heh heh, Britain is an island after all!" Logan chuckled good-naturedly. "Would you like to rest for a bit?"
"No, I'm fine!" Lindemann stubbornly took a seat. "Could I have a cup of hot coffee, please?"
Logan had his aide pour a cup of strong black coffee and handed it to Lindemann. "Before the landing fleet arrived, we airlifted over 9,500 soldiers. The outer defenses of Cardiff have been preliminarily established, but the problem is... this is an open port, connected to the mainland from the east to the southwest. Currently, we can only organize defense by occupying roads and key areas! Last night, there were skirmishes on three fronts, and the British deployed a significant number of second-line troops, but all attacks were easily repelled by us! It seems they are reluctant to draw their main forces from the Greater London Defense Circle!"
Ignoring the heat of the coffee, Lindemann took a gulp, then shook his head like a drunkard with blurry eyes. "The main British forces will come out sooner or later! But Colonel, this long-distance shipping is really painful. I think a considerable number of my soldiers are seasick like me. Before they regain their combat effectiveness, the outer defense of Cardiff will require more effort from you!"
"We will do our utmost!" Logan turned to look at the port. Although a considerable number of the more than two hundred ships were medium-sized yachts and speedboats, the scene was still impressive with masts towering and bustling. "General, when you departed, the 70 speedboats promised by the Spanish government hadn't arrived yet, right?"
Logan inquired.
"A batch has arrived, but we hadn't had time to load them when we set sail! Why?" Lindemann asked, somewhat puzzled.
Logan glanced at the harbor and said, "Based on our successful capture of over 70 British vessels last night, I intend to block the harbor early!"
"You mean... sink them outside the harbor?" Lindemann, being a ground warfare commander, was not familiar with naval operations. Logan was slightly better, as he had a comprehensive understanding of history. The Chinese military had once sunk ships in the Yangtze River to delay the Japanese invasion during World War II.
"Most likely, the British Gibraltar Fleet is already en route. We must be prepared early!" Logan's vision extended far beyond the visible range.
"But isn't the Air Force preparing for another massive aerial bombardment?"
Lindemann appeared somewhat worried. "Building the blockade so early, won't it hinder our incoming supplies?"
"Yes, originally we planned to complete the blockade before nightfall, but now it seems the sooner, the better! General, consider this: while ammunition supplies are crucial, the safety of our soldiers is paramount for the entire campaign! We can still airlift subsequent supplies, but once the British fleet enters the harbor, the situation could become extremely dire!" Logan explained, organizing his thoughts.
Lindemann, still feeling dizzy, furrowed his brow, pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, Colonel, you take charge of this matter!"
Logan sighed inwardly; taking charge meant assuming responsibility, but since the Dunkirk airborne assault, he had grown accustomed to being accountable for his actions.
Under the direct command of Colonel Hans Logan, acting commander of the 7th Paratrooper Division and military commandant of Operation Sea Wrath, German sailors began sinking cargo ships along with vessels seized by German airborne troops. These ships sailed towards the mouth of the Bristol Channel—previously surveyed by German submarines. The staff determined the northern end of the maritime blockade to be approximately 10 kilometers southwest of Cardiff Harbor, at Sully Island, and the southern end across the strait at Swan Island. The blockade ran in a northwest-southeast direction, with a total length of about 10.6 kilometers, using Flat Holm and Steep Holm Islands as intermediate points (one of the reasons for the preemptive occupation of these islands).
To most people, constructing an almost 11-kilometer-long blockade by sinking ships seemed unimaginable. However, after several nights of measurements by German submarines, it was determined that only about 8.8 kilometers of sea could accommodate large warships. Considering an average length of 40 meters per ship, it would require approximately 220 vessels. The German landing fleet comprised 227 non-combat ships, and with over 70 additional ships captured from the British, they had enough to construct the blockade.
In the sunlight, watching ships, both traditional and modern, sink into the water, Logan's feelings were difficult to describe. Before planning this landing operation, he had never realized how complex naval warfare could be, with numerous factors to consider. Moreover, the Bristol Channel was one of the areas in Britain with the highest tidal range, reaching an astonishing 8.3 meters. This meant that if the sunken ships weren't tall enough, British vessels could potentially pass over the blockade during high tide. To counter this, some smaller ships were equipped with anchor mines and magnetic mines. Before sinking, German naval personnel would secure their anchor chains to the deck and activate the fuses. Additionally, German torpedo bombers, flying over the Cornwall Peninsula, would continue to lurk near Cardiff Harbor. Whether day or night, once the British fleet attempted to break into the harbor, they would come under attack!
"Commander, headquarters has sent a coded message! Our long-range reconnaissance aircraft spotted the British fleet west of Cape Finisterre in Spain. They observed three large warships, one aircraft carrier, four cruisers, and nine destroyers! The fleet's speed is approximately 25 knots!" The communication officer's report indeed furrowed Lindemann's brow. The fleet was deploying in full force, and its formidable firepower was quite staggering!
"As expected! When it comes to the safety of the British mainland, their response is swift!" Logan glanced at his watch. "If they travel at full speed, they'll arrive in the Bristol Channel around dusk!"
"Will the blockade be completed in time?"
Lindemann asked cautiously, "Colonel, can my soldiers start building trenches now?"
Logan gave him a calm, confident smile. "Building ships is hard, but sinking them isn't. As long as we can speed up the unloading process, most of these ships in front of you will be at the bottom of the sea by teatime!"
"Good to hear!" Lindemann sighed in relief. "Colonel, can my soldiers begin constructing the trenches?"
Regarding this directional question, Logan smiled. "Of course! In my experience, for every 50 centimeters deeper we dig the trenches, the soldiers' survival chances increase by ten percent. And it's best to allocate plenty of secondary shelters!"
Lindemann seemed to finally realize that he had taken full control of the operational affairs here. After a pause, he said, "I understand this principle!"
Then, another communications officer hurried over, glanced at Lindemann, and turned to Logan. "Colonel, there's a coded message addressed to you!"
"Me?" Logan also glanced at Lindemann, then took the telegram folder and opened it. His heart skipped a beat as he read the message. It was from the operational headquarters in Amsterdam. It stated that Colonel Hans Logan, the commanding officer of this operation, was immediately ordered to return to headquarters. Without direct orders from the High Command, he was not to leave his post!
Was this meant to protect him or intentionally keep him in the rear? Logan couldn't quite figure it out. He also wondered if this directive came from the will of the little mustached leader or if the barely alive Goering was meddling behind the scenes. Why appoint him to a series of high-ranking logistical clerical positions but refuse to let him temporarily command a paratrooper division?
"General, I'm afraid I have to return to headquarters! Regarding the specific deployment of the battle, I strongly suggest you follow the adjusted steps. As long as we get through tonight safely, the British are as good as defeated!"
"Don't worry, Colonel. My officers and soldiers are all top-notch!" Lindemann still held his head in pain. Only those who had experienced seasickness knew how terrible it could be.
The early German defense forces were undoubtedly of high quality. Logan's concern wasn't about that. With orders piling up, he had no choice but to drive to Cardiff Airport. After a night of cleanup, the "one-time-use" giant gliders had been towed off the runway. There were about twenty to thirty damaged Junkers Ju 52 and DFS 230 gliders, but as the saying goes, ships come and go, thousands sail the ocean. After daybreak, "Auntie Junkers" continued to bring in troops and supplies. With the Royal Air Force losing air superiority over southern England, it was difficult for the British ground anti-aircraft guns to intercept the German air fleet flying over the Cornwall Peninsula.
On the airport runway, the propellers of two Ju 87 Stuka dive bombers that had just landed were still spinning rapidly. The straight-line distance from the Isle of Wight to Cardiff was exactly 100 kilometers, well within the operational radius of the German Air Force. The deployment of fighter squadrons to Cardiff was simply to emulate the initial strategy of the Battle of the Isle of Wight, maximizing the advantage of the German Air Force.
By the time Logan arrived at the airport, the officers there had arranged a Ju 52 for him and informed the now distinguished Imperial Air Force colonel that the operational headquarters had directly dispatched six Bf 109 fighter planes to escort him, and they would arrive within five minutes.
With conflicting emotions, Logan boarded the plane, waiting for it to take off and return him to the comfortable yet joyless rear command. Well, at least Richtofen was a predecessor worth learning from, and Freck's naval knowledge was something he lacked.
When the shrill air raid siren sounded, Logan suddenly awakened as if from a slumber. He rushed to the other side of the cabin and, through the porthole, vaguely saw black dots from the west. Those planes... were they from the British naval aviation?
They had finally appeared! Logan couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. With the loss of most battleships and battlecruisers in the homeland fleet, those aircraft carriers had become the final shackles preventing the German Navy from breaking out into the North Sea. At the same time, they were also the last force protecting Britain's maritime lifelines. Without these aircraft carriers, would the British high-ranking officials still think about fleeing to Canada? Sorry, but they'd have to ride in those dark and stuffy submarines!