"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The surface of the North Sea reverberated with the thunderous sound of cannon fire. The battlecruisers of the German Navy and the British Navy were unleashing a frenzied barrage, aiming to strike their adversaries' ships and send them to the depths.
"Boom!"
A shell struck the sea, sending up a towering plume of water. This was a 380mm round; despite being an armor-piercing projectile, its explosive power was astonishing.
"Damn those Germans! How could they equip so many ships with 380mm main guns? Why didn't we anticipate this?" lamented Admiral David Beatty inwardly.
Historically, the Royal Navy had been at the forefront of naval warfare, pioneering advancements in maritime power. Yet, this time, they found themselves trailing behind the German fleet, with potentially catastrophic consequences. Should the Royal Navy lose this engagement, the British Empire would pay an exorbitant price, risking its very existence and relegating it to the status of a third-rate power.
The 380mm shells fired by the German fleet were formidable. Not only were the British battlecruisers vulnerable, but even their battleships would struggle to withstand such firepower.
The only recourse left for the British was to pray to God that the shells would not find their mark. Otherwise, the repercussions would be dire.
Yet, often, God remains deaf to the prayers of His supplicants. Merely five minutes into the conflict, the German battlecruiser *Prinz Friedrich Karl* achieved a crossfire. A shell exploded in the waters beside the *Queen Mary*, a mere two hundred meters away, casting a pall of fear over the British sailors aboard.
"Nice shot!" Admiral Hipper couldn't help but exclaim with delight.
Following the successful crossfire, *Prinz Friedrich Karl* transitioned from test shots to a full barrage. The three triple-mounted 380mm guns unleashed their full fury, with each volley capable of hurling ten-ton shells toward the *Queen Mary*. The destructive potential of the 380mm armor-piercing shells was alarming; if they hit, they could easily tear through the *Queen Mary*'s feeble armor.
"Curse it! The Germans are still so fortunate!" Beatty swore. A sense of foreboding began to creep into his thoughts. If the Germans continued to enjoy such luck, even the assistance of three *Queen Elizabeth*-class battleships might not ensure victory. In Beatty's estimation, the combat effectiveness of the *Queen Elizabeth* battleships would be comparable only to the *Mackensen*-class battlecruisers of the German fleet.
"General, the distance is too great; our gunners are struggling to hit their targets," a staff officer reported.
Beatty hesitated for a moment before issuing an order: "Close the distance! Let our gunners make the most of their abilities. Our success in destroying the German ships hinges on this."
"Understood, General."
To improve their hit rate, the British fleet began to maneuver closer, a tactic that would inadvertently enhance the German fleet's accuracy as well.
Standing on the bridge of the *Mackensen*, Hipper lowered his telescope, a smile playing on his lips.
"Clearly, the British have not changed at all! Do they not realize that closing the distance benefits us as well? Our battlecruisers possess armor capable of withstanding their main guns, while their vessels' armor is as fragile as paper before ours," Hipper remarked with amusement.
"General, they must think they can achieve a greater hit rate!" an officer laughed.
The other officers joined in hearty laughter.
As the distance between the two fleets continued to close, it soon diminished to just thirteen thousand meters. With this reduction in distance, both sides experienced improved accuracy, yet the advantage seemed to tilt increasingly in favor of the German Navy.
In less than twenty minutes since the battle commenced, all six German battlecruisers had successfully completed their crossfire, while four of the British battlecruisers, apart from two, had done the same. The ensuing concentrated fire intensified the ferocity of the engagement.
"Boom!"
A tremendous explosion erupted as the bow of the German battlecruiser *Friedrich Karl* was engulfed in a massive fireball. The British *Royal Princess* scored the first hit, marking the initial success of the battle.
A 343mm shell detonated on the bow deck of the *Friedrich Karl*, creating a gaping hole and igniting a fierce blaze.
"Ha! Well done! God save the British Empire!" Beatty exclaimed, a broad smile breaking across his face at the sight of his ship achieving the first hit. His earlier anxieties seemed to dissipate.
"It appears our fortunes are turning. Perhaps, we can claim victory in this battle," Beatty thought, a flicker of hope igniting within him.
However, Beatty had celebrated too soon. The *Royal Princess* had not inflicted significant damage on the *Friedrich Karl*, whose combat capability remained largely intact.
Although the British Navy had secured the first hit, the Germans swiftly retaliated.
"Boom!"
Two minutes later, the *Prinz Friedrich* struck the *Queen Mary*, landing the first hit for the Germans as a 380mm shell tore into the *Queen Mary*'s flank, carving away a substantial portion of her hull. Had the impact occurred below the waterline, the consequences could have been disastrous.
Five minutes later, the German *Blücher* scored a hit on the British *New Zealand*.
In a mere minute, the *Friedrich Karl* avenged the *Royal Princess*, landing a 380mm shell that demolished the rear turret of the *Royal Princess*. While it did not cause further damage, it rendered the *Royal Princess* significantly less formidable, reducing her firepower by a quarter.
Witnessing this turn of events, Beatty could no longer find a trace of joy.