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"The Heart of Germany"

Crossing into World War II-era Germany, yet only a lowly lieutenant paratrooper with no background, no connections. Am I to drift along with history, enduring setbacks in Britain, getting battered in Crete, freezing in Russia, crouching in Normandy to dodge bombs? No, my ambition still burns bright; why fear leaving a legacy of scorn behind? From military greenhorn to war veteran, Logan underwent a transformation in a few short months that defies imagination. From the astonishing events at Dunkirk to the globally watched Battle of Britain, the roaring Barbarossa in Russia, what's the next target? Logan says: "In...

sckyh · War
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248 Chs

Chapter 21: The Perfect Combination of Idol and Strength

The German Air Force used 756-kilogram 450-millimeter aerial torpedoes, with half the explosive content of a standard naval G7 torpedo of 533 millimeters. Theoretically, it would be difficult for it to pose a threat to the thickest 14-inch waterline armor of the British Nelson-class battleships, especially considering the design features of these battleships, which included sloping waterline armor belts and increased watertight bulkheads, making them exceptionally formidable in terms of defense among contemporary warships!

The disparity between theory and reality is something no one can truly ascertain. In the original historical timeline, the pride of the German Navy, the "Bismarck," was ultimately destroyed by aerial torpedoes dropped by the British using the outdated Swordfish aircraft, damaging its stern rudder. According to historical records, the British torpedoes that hit the "Bismarck" weighed 730 kilograms with a caliber of 460 millimeters, making their destructive power comparable to those used by the German naval aviation!

In the altered historical timeline by the time traveler Logan, the battleship that suffered the first blows from aerial torpedoes was the "Nelson" class. Its rudder design was conventional, unlike the abrupt design of the Bismarck class or the King George V class. Additionally, the explosion point of the torpedo was located aft of amidships, over thirty meters from the stern. However, the astonishing impact caused by the 160 kilograms of nitrocellulose in the torpedo's warhead instantly damaged the shaft coupling of the Nelson's No. 2 steam turbine. While the shutdown of one side's turbines wouldn't cripple this massive warship, its speed dropped rapidly from the original 16 knots to 9 knots!

British engineers and onboard technicians immediately commenced emergency repairs. However, the Germans soon seized the opportunity: they had deployed more than half of their aerial torpedo bombers on this side. Both the outdated biplane Arado Ar 95 and the cutting-edge Heinkel He 115 took turns striking. Within half an hour, they launched as many as 37 aerial torpedoes against the British fleet—under the intervention of the high command, even 12 pre-production models of the Focke-Wulf Fi 167 torpedo bombers were brought into action. Bereft of its speed protection, the cumbersome "Nelson" class fell victim to the second and third torpedoes successively. However, this time its heavy armor played its role. Instead of further decreasing, its speed remained steady under the escort of a companion ship, the "Defender" destroyer. Unfortunately, the "Defender" wasn't as fortunate; four Fi 167s evaded its gunfire and launched torpedoes from the flank and rear of the fleet, inadvertently sinking this old D-class destroyer!

"Captain, 'Purple Eggplant' received!"

When a submarine sailed on the surface at low speed, the captain and executive officer usually stood on the conning tower observing the surroundings through binoculars—due to the combat characteristics of submarines, the likelihood of being directly hit by gunfire was relatively low, and U-2 seemed to be one of the unlucky ones. However, learning from past experiences, Falkenberg tried to avoid staying with his captain when sailing on the surface. This time, he chose to smoke alone on the aft deck.

The young, handsome, and extremely affable blond captain immediately perked up at the mention of "Purple Eggplant," gesturing to Falkenberg, "Hey, buddy, come down! We've got work to do!"

"Oh, that's great!"

Falkenberg flicked his finger, and the glowing cigarette end traced a simple arc before landing on the distant sea away from German soil.

Receiving the same order, the nine submarines, separated by 2 to 3 nautical miles, accelerated and submerged, leaving only their periscopes on the surface—the British fleet would have to make a wide detour to avoid this interception line more than twenty nautical miles wide!

After waiting in silence for half an hour, the silhouette of the British fleet finally appeared on the sea surface ahead. Their guns continued firing at low-flying aircraft and the sea around them, attempting to drive away the pesky German torpedo bombers and elusive high-speed torpedo boats. However, would the German Navy let such a feast slip away?

Observing through the periscope, the young captain, with a stroke of luck, seemed destined to be lucky this time. The British fleet chose this route straight down the barrel, unaware that out of the nine submarines in the fan formation, only one-third were formidable Type VII B submarines, and the other six were Type II submarines, with only three torpedo tubes in the bow and scarce reserve torpedoes!

On a submarine, the responsibility and honor of commanding an attack ultimately fell to the captain. After completing his observation, Falkenberg reluctantly gave up his position.

"Torpedo tubes one through four ready for launch!"

With the captain's command, the crew quickly checked the four torpedo tubes at the bow, which, if in the North Atlantic, would be the best "gift" for paired merchant ships.

"Direction 009, set depth at 7 meters!"

The young captain reported a series of numbers steadily, his gestures and speech appropriately lowered.

"Distance 6000 yards... Engines stop!"

When a submarine was submerged, the electric motors used for propulsion were inherently quieter than diesel engines. When they stopped working, one could even hear their heartbeat.

"4000 yards! Direction 010, torpedo correction!"

The captain once again reported parameters, and the roar of the engines grew clearer, while he spoke in a slightly subdued voice.

"At 2500 yards! Direction 011, torpedo correction!"

The captain's clear command was followed by the rumbling of the large vessel's engines.

At 2500 yards, four torpedoes were fired simultaneously. Hitting a target like a battleship with at least one of them was almost a certainty. If a frontal attack could penetrate the ship's bow, it might even detonate the ammunition depot!

The young captain evidently had grander ambitions, as he stared unwaveringly through the periscope for a full 3 minutes. "1800 yards, bearing 012, torpedo correction! Prepare..."

The captain took a deep breath, and every crew member in the compartment held their breath as well.

"One fired, two fired!" There was a two-second interval before the young captain continued his orders: "Three fired, four fired!"

The orders were relayed accurately through the submarine's internal communication system to the forward torpedo room. Compared to gunfire, the launch of torpedoes was almost eerily quiet!

After one final glance, the blond captain decisively closed the periscope hatch and grasped the handle. "Retract the periscope! Dive to a depth of 40 meters!"

Following the straight torpedo launch, surface vessels' crews could easily determine its position by the white wake it left behind. Based on experience, they could fully deduce the submarine's firing direction. Though large caliber shells couldn't be used as depth charges, if the submarine surfaced in shallow waters, being hit by a shell wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Falkenberg checked his watch. While a shell only took one or two seconds to travel its distance, a torpedo would take over a minute.

At 44 seconds, the first explosion was heard. Falkenberg shook his head, "That couldn't be our torpedo! It could be U-62 or U-150, or even torpedo bombers!"

Indeed, unless something went wrong, a torpedo couldn't hit its target prematurely.

After two consecutive major explosions, the sounds on the surface suddenly increased rapidly, creating a chaotic environment that was somewhat irritating.

At 71 seconds, an exceptionally loud explosion came from the surface. This time, Falkenberg breathed a sigh of relief, "Hit one!"

At 73 seconds, the second explosion sounded.

"Hit two!"

Between 74 and 75 seconds, two explosions occurred almost simultaneously. Falkenberg looked up and locked eyes with the captain, who had been checking his watch. "All hits?"

"Hits confirmed on target!" The sonar operator had quietly put back on his headphones at some point.

The young blond captain, with a confident smile, remarked, "Hey, after this battle, let the entire Britain remember the name of Joachim Skik!"

The young captain's intention might have been merely to lighten the mood, but in the original historical timeline, his late-war achievements in 1940 indeed sent shivers down Britain's spine. Before being discovered and sunk by a British destroyer in 1941, he and his submarine had sunk a total of 37 Allied ships, with a total tonnage of 160,000 tons, ranking him 14th among Germany's ace submarine commanders in World War II. It was said that he was also Dönitz's favorite captain. With his refined demeanor, casual attitude in front of superiors, penchant for jokes, and most importantly - unwavering determination!

After a while, the young-looking, mature sonar operator said somewhat regretfully, "It seems no ships were destroyed or sunk!"

Having observed those two British battleships through the periscope earlier, Falkenberg sighed, "My God, their armor is really thick!"

Skik turned on a wall lamp, picked up a navy-issued manual, and casually flipped through a few pages. "Hmm, Nelson-class battleships, the Royal Navy's super turtles, with extremely thick armor! Guys, it looks like we need to reload a few more torpedoes - as long as we can sink them, it's worth using up all our torpedoes!"

Falkenberg nodded, "Let's do it!"

This blond captain, who had both the looks of an idol and the skills of a professional (as historical records show), tossed aside the manual and still effortlessly commanded, "Guys, reload torpedoes. Half an hour from now, we'll surface and deliver the final blow to the Brits!"