pappabearbooks Chapter 602 Plot Requirements
Chapter 602 Plot Requirements
Betty stood there, watching the two points of light gradually turn into two almost invisible flickers, and finally disappear completely at the edge of the screen.
The bridge was as quiet as a tomb.
"General..." the adjutant began to say.
Betty raised her hand to stop him.
He needs to think.
Why isn't Scheer following? What does he want? Is he avoiding them, or waiting? What is his target—this squadron, the transport convoy behind them, or…?
Betty suddenly understood.
Scheer wasn't running away. He was waiting for a better opportunity.
Waiting for him—Betty—to make his next choice.
"General," the adjutant spoke again, "what should we do? Continue northeast, or...?"
Betty did not answer immediately.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again.
"Turn," he said. "The entire fleet turns southwest at thirty knots. Send a message to Jellicoe: The enemy ships are not following to the northeast; we are now turning southwest in pursuit. This ship will attempt to entangle the enemy; please have the main fleet come at full speed."
The telegraph operator's fingers flew across the keyboard again.
When HMS Courageous and HMS Glorious received the signal, the captains of both ships frowned almost simultaneously.
Turn southwest? To pursue the Bismarck-class destroyers?
They only had four cannons. Their armor couldn't even withstand the secondary guns of a Bismarck-class battleship.
But an order is an order.
The two battlecruisers turned simultaneously, their bows cleaving through the waves, and chased after HMS Queen Elizabeth towards the southwest.
5:40.
The sun finally rose above the eastern horizon.
The fog had completely dissipated. The sky over the North Atlantic was light gray, and the sea was dark gray, except for the eastern part, which was tinged with golden-red by the sunlight. The silhouettes of the three British warships became clearer and clearer in the morning light—the slender and elegant silhouette of HMS Queen Elizabeth, and the slightly bulky shapes of HMS Courageous and HMS Glory.
On the Bismarck, the lookout spotted the enemy with the naked eye for the first time.
"Visual contact! Bearing 240, distance approximately 22,000 meters, three enemy ships, confirmed: one Queen Elizabeth-class and two Brave-class!"
Scheer raised his binoculars.
In the footage, the three British warships are in full-speed pursuit. HMS Queen Elizabeth is in the lead, with the two Daring-class ships lagging behind by about three kilometers, desperately trying to catch up. The waves are cleaved by their bows, leaving white trails on either side, like three straight scars etched on the sea surface.
Thirty sections.
They are running thirty laps.
Scheer put down his binoculars.
"Slow down to 28 knots," he said.
The naval commander looked at him, puzzled. "General?"
"Slow down," Scheer repeated, "let the British think they can catch up."
The order was given. The Bismarck's speed gradually decreased from thirty knots to twenty-eight knots. The Tirpitz received the signal and also slowed down.
The two German warships resembled two lions deliberately slowing their pace, luring the hunters behind them to approach step by step.
It was exactly six o'clock.
The distance is 20,000 meters.
6:20.
The distance is 18,000 meters.
6:40.
The distance is 16,000 meters.
Betty stood on the bridge of the Queen Elizabeth, her heart pounding faster and faster.
Sixteen thousand meters. This is the theoretical maximum effective range of the 381mm gun. Firing at this distance would have a hit rate of less than five percent, but it would at least let the Germans know they were chasing.
"Main guns ready," he ordered. "Target: Bismarck. Three salvos, with correction fire."
The Queen Elizabeth's forward main gun slowly rose. The gunner set the firing parameters based on the data provided by the optical rangefinder.
6:45.
First volley.
Eight 381mm guns simultaneously spewed fire, shells whistling as they flew toward the Bismarck, 16,000 meters away. Thirty seconds later, columns of water rose around the Bismarck—the closest being about 300 meters from the bow and the closest about 500 meters from the port side.
Missed.
Scheer stood on the bridge of the Bismarck, watching the water columns rise from the sea.
"The British are firing at the target," he said. "Keep on course. No need to return fire."
"Yes."
Second volley. Third volley. Still no hit.
Betty lowered the binoculars. Sixteen thousand meters was too far. He needed to get closer.
"Full speed ahead, target: Bismarck. Keep firing."
HMS Queen Elizabeth's engines were overloaded, and its speed climbed from thirty knots to thirty-two knots—its maximum achievable limit. The ship was shaking, and the crew had to hold onto the railings to stay upright. But the distance was closing. Fifteen thousand five hundred meters. Fifteen thousand meters. Fourteen thousand five hundred meters.
7:15.
The distance is 14,000 meters.
During the fourth salvo from HMS Queen Elizabeth, a near miss exploded 120 meters to the port side of the Bismarck, shrapnel grazed the deck, and two crew members were injured.
Scher looked at the scratches left on the deck by the shrapnel.
"Tirpitz," he said, "begin returning fire. Target Queen Elizabeth, free fire."
The Tirpitz had been holding back for three hours, finally hearing those words. The German warship turned around!
Its four twin-mounted 380mm main guns fired simultaneously, the muzzle flashes particularly dazzling in the morning light. The shells flew toward the Queen Elizabeth 14,000 meters away—less than thirty seconds later, columns of water rose around the Queen Elizabeth. The most dangerous shell landed eighty meters to starboard, the explosion sending waves of water soaking the sailors on the aft deck.
Betty's heart skipped a beat.
Fourteen thousand meters. At this distance, the German main guns had a sufficient hit rate.
He ordered, "Ten degrees to left, evasive course. Continue approaching!"
HMS Queen Elizabeth drew an arc across the sea, attempting to evade German fire with maneuvering. But the gunners of the Bismarck and Tirpitz were already in position. Fifth salvo, sixth salvo, seventh salvo—
7:33.
A 380mm shell hit the Queen Elizabeth's starboard aft secondary gun deck.
The explosion could be heard more than ten kilometers away. Flames spewed from the breach, and thick black smoke billowed upwards. The damage control team rushed to put out the fire, but the blaze was difficult to control for the time being.
Betty gritted her teeth: "Keep getting closer!"
The Queen did not slow down.
It has gone mad.
On the outskirts of the battle, the Brave and the Glorious are desperately chasing after them.
They were indeed very fast—thirty-two knots, faster than the Queen Elizabeth. But their armor was too thin. So thin that even the secondary guns of the Bismarck-class ships could inflict fatal damage.
Captain Hoffman, captain of the Tirpitz, had been keeping an eye on them for a long time.
From the moment the Queen Elizabeth was hit, he knew that the real prey was not the capital ship that was being attacked, but the two "thin-skinned but large" ships that were trying to flank him.
"Turn, 15 degrees to right," he ordered. "Target: Brave, full speed ahead."
The Tirpitz broke away from the Bismarck's flank, like a cheetah breaking free from a pride of lions to pounce on a smaller prey.
When Captain Johnson, the captain of the HMS Courageous, saw this scene, his blood ran cold.
"Enemy ships are approaching! Speed at least thirty knots!" The lookout's voice changed.
Jason looked at the German in the distance. He watched as the outline of the German battleship grew larger and larger, and the muzzles of its guns became clearer and clearer.
"Fire! All main guns, fire!" he ordered.
The four 381mm main guns of the Courageous began to fire. Shells flew toward the Tirpitz, kicking up plumes of water around it. But the sparse firepower posed no threat whatsoever. The difference between four guns and eight guns was starkly clear at that moment.