The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 996 No one except Europeans wants European unification
Winter 1886, Admiralty building on Whitehall Street, London.

A thick fog, thick with coal smoke, shrouded the entire city in a gray haze. The carriage of the newly appointed Commander of the Home Fleet, Admiral Fisher, rolled across the slippery cobblestones and stopped in front of the Admiralty building. He strode inside, his boots echoing dully on the oak floors.

In the conference room on the top floor, the Duke of Cambridge, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Lord George Hamilton, First Lord of the Admiralty, Arthur Hood, First Lord of the Sea, and Sir Richard Wellesley, Second Lord of the Admiralty, had been waiting for some time. A nautical chart of the North Sea and the Baltic Sea was spread out on the long table, cigar smoke swirled under the chandelier, and the steam in the coffee cups had long since dissipated.

"Gentlemen, I oppose forcing our way into the Baltic Sea." Admiral Fisher went straight to the point as soon as he entered, pointing heavily at the Skagerrak Strait. "It is only 60 nautical miles at its narrowest point. The Germans can easily inflict heavy losses on our fleet by laying mines and submarines."

“Actually, it’s even worse!” Lord Hamilton pushed over an intelligence file, tapping the data on it with his fingertips: “The latest specifications for the Nassau-class battleships: 18,800 tons standard displacement, 10 main guns of 280mm each, and Krupp armor that is 20mm thicker than we expected.”

Fisher glanced at it, his brow furrowing. The ammunition load of the five twin 280mm main guns was more than that of the six twin 12-inch main guns of the Dreadnought-class!
If the capital ships of the home fleet encounter several Nassau-class destroyers in the narrow Skagerrak Strait, the losses could be considerable.
“But the Russians won’t last until next autumn! The analysis report provided by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs says that if we can’t give the Tsar a boost next spring, then next summer…” The Duke of Cambridge, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, shook his head at this point and did not continue.

They all understood Russia's situation—if it wasn't dealt a severe blow, the country would either collapse under German offensive next summer or experience a revolution next autumn or winter. And if Russia fell, how long could Red France hold out? Once Red France fell, Germany would successfully dominate the entire European continent!

"Admiral Fisher, this is our plan!" First First Lord of the Navy Arthur Hood unfolded his meticulously designed plan—the fleet's deployment route, outlined in red pencil, resembled a pair of scissors, the tips pointing directly at Copenhagen.

“30艘载重万吨的货轮，装载25万吨物资——6万吨小麦、4万吨硝石、3万吨燃油、2万吨炮弹，其余是药品和冬装。”胡德的声音低沉而坚定，“护航编队由‘无敌’级战巡和‘台风’级装巡组成，主力舰队则藏在后方20海里处。如果德国人敢拦截，我们的4艘‘威严’、4艘‘无畏’、2艘‘猎户座’就能让他们有来无回！”

Fisher stared at the chart, remaining silent for a long time.

What if the Germans don't take the bait?

“Then the Russians have obtained life-saving supplies,” Third Admiral Monsen sneered, “enough to at least last until 1887!”

Fisher shrugged. "But what does it matter? By 1888..."

Lord Hamilton took a deep breath and glanced at the crowd: "By 1888, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom might be on our side! After all, no one except Europeans wants a unified Europe! So, let's take a gamble—the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom won't stand idly by and watch Europe unify."

Fisher finally nodded: "Okay, spring 1887, operation code name—'Royal Bets'."

In December 1886, the bronze chandelier illuminated the conference room inside the naval building on Wilhelmstrasse in Berlin. Quartermaster General Waldersee, Navy Minister Leo von Kaprivi, Chief of Naval Staff Tirpitz, and Commander-in-Chief of the North Fleet Eduard von Knorr sat around a huge sand table, each with a face so solemn it seemed to drip water.

“Latest intelligence from London.” Tirpitz slammed a telegram on the table. “The British are organizing the ‘Baltic Transport Plan,’ preparing to deliver 250,000 tons of supplies to Russia next spring.” He pointed to the location of the Skagerrak Strait on the sand table. “The escort fleet will consist of two battlecruisers and four armored cruisers, but I believe that the British’s true main force is hidden 20 nautical miles behind the escort group—composed of their Dreadnought-class and Orion-class ships, numbering six to eight!”

Knorr-Robbie analyzed, "We currently have four Nassau-class battleships and six armored cruisers deployed in the Baltic Sea. Theoretically, if we concentrate all our forces..."

"The odds of winning are no more than forty percent," Caprivi interrupted him directly. "Don't forget the level of British artillery training. You all saw their performance in the South Pacific last year. Although they were defeated, they were, after all, elite troops who had been tested by blood and fire!"

A brief silence fell over the meeting room. The sound of guards changing shifts came from outside the window, their neat leather boots crunching on the snow.

"Gentlemen," Waldersee suddenly stood up and walked to the huge map of Europe on the wall, "have we oversimplified the problem?" His finger slowly moved from the Baltic Sea to the Norwegian coast, "Why must we fight a decisive battle on the enemy's pre-arranged battlefield?"

Tirpitz's eyes lit up: "You mean..."

“Norway!” Waldersee slammed his fist heavily on Trondheim’s position. “Once the main force of the British Home Fleet enters the Baltic Sea, their defenses in the North Sea will be exposed.” He turned to face the crowd, his eyes gleaming with fanaticism. “His Majesty the Emperor told me last night that Germany’s true mission is not to force Russia to compromise, but to build a Europe dominated by us! And to achieve this goal…”

He picked up his pointer and drew a thick red line on the map: "We must completely sever all ties between Russia and the outside world! The White Sea is their last outlet to the sea in the north. If we take Norway, we can use the Scharnhorst-class battleships to blockade the entire Barents Sea!"

Kaprivi gasped. "This is tantamount to forcing the Russians to their deaths." "Exactly!" Waldersee's voice suddenly rose. "Have you all forgotten the lesson of Napoleon in 1812? Without completely crushing Russia, Europe will never have peace!" He took out a document bearing the Emperor's seal from his briefcase. "His Majesty has approved the 'Northern Hammer' operation plan."

Tirpitz immediately took the document and examined it closely, his eyes widening as he read: "16 troop transports carrying two Prussian Guards Divisions, escorted by Dreadnought-class battleships and Scharnhorst-class battlecruisers, will simultaneously raid Narvik, Trondheim, and Bergen." He looked up at Waldersee, "This requires the cooperation of at least two-thirds of the High Seas Fleet."

"That's why I said the British splitting their forces is our opportunity!" Waldersee exclaimed, patting the map excitedly. "While their main force is busy fighting in the Baltic Sea, our marines are already raising the German flag in Norway!"

Knorr suddenly raised a question: "But Norway has complex terrain, and it's suitable for winter operations."

“That’s why we need a swift victory!” Waldersee interrupted. “We’ve been secretly training our mountain warfare troops for three months. More importantly,” he lowered his voice, “we have people in the Norwegian parliament. Once we take the port, resupply won’t be a problem.”

Silence fell over the meeting room again, broken only by the occasional crackling of the firewood in the fireplace. Everyone was processing this audacious, almost insane plan.

"Gentlemen," Waldersee said, his voice low and firm as he surveyed the crowd, "this is not an ordinary military operation. This is a decisive step toward securing a thousand years of German dominance. Either we gain complete control of Northern Europe, or..." He paused, "we'll just have to wait for the British to continuously supply Russia with aid. Moreover, we cannot forget that the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's stance is shifting towards Britain! Once the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom turns against us, Europe will never, ever be unified!"

Tirpitz was the first to stand up, his Iron Cross gleaming under the lights: "For the Emperor and the Empire, I support this plan."

Knorr and Caprivi exchanged a glance and slowly stood up.

“Very good.” Waldersee nodded in satisfaction. “Begin preparations for war immediately. Remember, the key to this operation is surprise. Before the British can react, I want to see the German flag flying over every major port in Norway!”

Outside the window, the winter night in Berlin was gradually falling. Fine ice flowers began to condense on the glass windows of the Naval Building.

1887, spring.

Inside the Winter Palace's operations room, the Tsar's thick fingers moved slowly across the Baltic Sea chart, finally stopping at the Skagerrak Strait.

"The British want to force their way into Skagrak?" The Tsar's voice was so deep it seemed to come from underground. He looked up abruptly, a dangerous glint in his grey-blue eyes. "What did the Naval Staff say?"

Navy Minister Shestakov, his forehead beaded with sweat, trembled as he handed over a fleet status report: "Your Majesty, the Baltic Fleet currently has four battleships and six armored cruisers ready for immediate deployment, but the main gun turret hydraulic system of the 'Peter the Great' is still under repair."

"Enough!" the Tsar roared suddenly, slamming his jeweled scepter down on the map, making the kerosene lamp flame flicker violently. "The German 'Nassau'-class destroyers are already assembling in Danzig, the British are about to move, and we're still discussing hydraulic systems?"

A deathly silence fell over the operations room, broken only by the occasional crackling of firewood in the fireplace. Army Minister Vanovsky cautiously broke the silence: "Your Majesty, perhaps we should first strengthen the defenses of the Gulf of Finland."

"Defense?" The Tsar sneered, rising to walk to the window. Outside the heavy curtains lay St. Petersburg, blanketed in snow. "Do you know how many people die every day on the front lines? Warsaw has fallen, the Lithuanian army has been completely wiped out, and civilians starve to death every day in Palace Square!" He suddenly turned, his eyes flashing with a terrifying light. "Now the British are willing to risk opening a sea route for us. This is an opportunity God has given Russia!"

Admiral Makarov, Chief of Naval Staff, stepped forward: "Your Majesty, if we must proceed, I suggest concentrating all our main forces to ambush the British convoy near Gotland. The Germans will certainly divide their forces to intercept the British transport ships, which is exactly what we need."

"This is our chance for a decisive battle!" the Tsar exclaimed, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "Makarov, you've finally said something sensible!" He strode back to the map and planted his finger heavily on the location of Gotland. "Right here, we will fight a fair naval battle with the Germans, alongside the British!"

"Tell every sailor that this is no ordinary battle! This is the last chance to save Russia!" The Tsar surveyed the crowd, his voice like thunder. "While the navy still has morale, while the British are still willing to help, we must gamble this!"

(End of this chapter)