Conquer Europe from the West

Chapter 160 Prologue: The Neptune Battleship

When the Neptune-class dreadnought, with its massive fleet of over thirty armored cruisers and destroyers of various types, entered the Suez Canal, resupplyed via the Kingdom of EGY, and finally entered the Mediterranean Sea, the entire Farland finally received its largest resupply since the start of the war.

But I don't know how it happened.

When the captain of Neptune finally returned to the Mediterranean Sea, which had been his home for almost all of his military service, after a long two-year voyage, a rare heavy snowfall began to fall near the border with Farland.

The cold wind howled past the ship's exterior, then was torn apart by the protruding rivets, iron plates, railings, and steps, turning into an unpleasant low hum.

In the blink of an eye, the heavy snow covered the entire fleet with a white coat. The scattered officers and sailors, lacking thick enough coats, could only hug their arms, shivering as they tied safety ropes around their waists and lowered rope ladders to the leeward side of the ship to help the pilots ashore.

Apart from the observers who should be present, there was only one middle-aged man in a field officer's uniform on the open navigation bridge—Somerville.

Somerville is a relatively young naval captain, perhaps a bit young for the captain of this dreadnought, but he has served in the Royal Navy for over thirty years and is a veteran naval officer with extensive sailing experience.

He served as captain of the battleship HMS Conqueror four years ago, and after gaining experience in fleet command, he began serving as captain of the HMS Neptune two years ago.

It can be said that, apart from the issue of rank, this colonel perfectly met all the requirements that a battleship captain should have.

And now, he was standing on the bridge of the Neptune, looking at the Farland coastline in the distance, which was shrouded in a blanket of snow.

In Somerville's memory, the French Riviera along the Mediterranean coast should be mild. Although there is considerable rainfall in December, it is mostly showers or long periods of light rain, far from snowfall.

In contrast, the weather in the nearby Republic of Thalia is much more normal.

Although their temperatures have also started to drop considerably due to the blizzard in Farland, they are at least not as high as in Farland.

Just then, trembling footsteps came from the starboard side, accompanied by heavy, short breaths. A group of junior officers, dressed in thin uniforms and only wearing thick raincoats or overcoats for wind protection, accompanied a male and female pilot to the bridge.

"captain!"

As soon as they entered the bridge, they were startled by Somerville standing in the middle. The leading officers immediately saluted, while the rest were blocked on the gangway, not knowing what was happening ahead.

Somerville nodded briefly, then stepped aside and let a pilot take over the helm, saying in a slightly accented Farlandic language, "This year's weather is truly awful."

The pilot who took charge of the ship's helm was a girl who looked to be in her early twenties. Her freckled face gave her a strange sense of friendliness, but her skin, which was noticeably dry and shriveled due to the lack of makeup, reminded Somerville of how his daughter looked when she was sick.

She did not immediately answer Somerville's question, but waited until her colleague, who was standing on the port side of the bridge and looking at the sea through binoculars, gave the instruction that it was safe to sail before pushing the steam throttle valve forward.

The scenery outside the bridge began to change, and swirling snowflakes drifted into the bridge, making it difficult for Somerville to clearly see the girl's face.

He instinctively raised his hand to block the swirling snowflakes, but then he heard the girl's voice: "It's been quite a few years."

Although the girl's tone was somewhat forceful, anyone could tell that speaking in such a low voice on a warship was completely inadequate.

No one dared to offend the pilot, so neither Somerville nor the other officers dared to speak; they simply listened quietly.

"Colonel, you've been in the Gulf of Asia for several years now, so it's normal that you wouldn't know about the situation here."

She whispered, "Before the revolution, everyone was doing alright, but since the new republican government came to power, things have been getting worse and worse."

The man in front, the pilot who was acting as an observer, chimed in: "The current situation is that everyone is just barely making ends meet. Colonel, you picked a good day today. We all happen to be here, and the sea ice isn't too bad. If you had come a month later, you would have had to dock at the neighboring Republic of Thalia."

Somerville was startled by the pilot's words. This was the first time in his life he had ever heard of a country other than the Empire experiencing port ice formation: "Is it that serious?"

"Who knows."

The girl shook her head: "However, now that the fleet has arrived, we can rest easy for a while."

Somerville didn't speak, but his somber expression said it all.

Even before he set off from the Gulf of Asia, he had learned of the food crisis in Farland by telegram.

The kingdom's cabinet even sent a telegram to the fleets around the world regarding this matter, requesting that they carry as much rice, wheat, and other storable supplies as possible on their return voyage and hand them over to the local government when they docked in Farland.

These relief supplies and the trade that occurred during port calls could alleviate the economic pressure in Farland to some extent, and could be considered part of the agreement's aid program.

Moreover, because of the speech given by the Imperial officer named Renn Frege, most of the Farlans now have a very complicated attitude towards the United Kingdom. Therefore, even after most sailors disembark, the services they receive are worse than those for sailors from surrounding countries, such as Talia and the Kingdom of Spenia.

However, these things are ultimately just superficial.

The deeper reasons remain unclear and inexplicable.

Just then, the male pilot at the front suddenly spoke up: "Speaking of which, Colonel, how long will your fleet need to anchor?"

Somerville instinctively said, "Half a month. There was a problem with the boiler when we were in Apegi, and it needs to be repaired. We should be able to replenish the fuel supply, right?"

His words caused the male pilot's brow to furrow deeply, and his icy blue eyes made the sailors and officers around him feel uneasy.

After a while, the pilot sighed and said, "There's no problem with fuel, but you'd better be prepared not to be able to leave the port."

"How to say?"

Somerville looked at the other person in confusion, his face red from the snowflakes and the biting wind.

The pilot said, "Nobody knows if the sea will freeze over in half a month."

Then he changed the subject, saying, "However, as long as it's not a month, it's still possible to catch the last wave of departures."

“The ice will remain frozen from January until mid-February,” the female pilot said calmly, slightly turning the rudder and shifting the power to the off position, allowing the Neptune to glide forward using its remaining momentum. “If we miss the last chance to leave port, we’ll have to wait until early March to leave safely.”

After saying that, with a slight rocking of the bow, two small motorboats moved from the port and starboard sides to the underside of the bow, pressing their bows, covered with heavy cloth and rubber, against the Neptune and attempting to push the bow from its north-facing position to its west-facing position.

Battleships, being such large vessels, cannot be moored in their berths; the crew must reach the shore by small boat—this is standard procedure. As the bow changed direction, the strong winds and snowflakes that had been blowing in lessened considerably, causing everyone on the bridge to breathe a sigh of relief.

After the ship came to a complete stop, Somerville took out ten twenty-yen gold coins and two five-pound notes from his pocket and handed them equally to the two pilots, saying, "We will try our best not to miss the departure date."

A fleeting smile crossed the faces of the two young water pilots, but they quickly regained their previous expressions.

Somerville noticed this change in them, and as a father, he couldn't stand it: "Brad."

“Here, Captain.” A young lieutenant walked up to him.

Somerville said, "Please have the two pilots warm up in the officers' club. It would be unbecoming of the Royal Navy to send them away in this cold weather."

"Yes, Captain."

The officers and sailors around him made way for him, and Brad gestured for them to leave the bridge first.

Somerville only breathed a sigh of relief when the footsteps finally disappeared.

On both sides, the small boats used for docking were already moored on the water, and the sailors and officers who had been granted permission to go ashore were lining up to disembark and rest.

Somerville instinctively looked towards the distant shore.

As warships entered the port, the previously deserted streets were suddenly illuminated with electric and kerosene lamps, and bars, brothels, hotels, and gambling dens opened their doors.

Lights of various colors shone brightly in the wind and snow, as if they had always been like this, never changing.

The only thing that made it different was the streets, which were almost devoid of pedestrians, carriages, and trams, and covered in thick snow, leaving only a white expanse.

"Colonel, everything has been arranged."

A major appeared behind Somerville, and together they looked at the city shrouded in white in the distance, with the major remarking, "It's just like the port of the Empire."

Somerville didn't speak until a while later, when he said, "This piece of crap is worse than the Empire."

The major immediately realized he had said something he shouldn't have, so he quickly changed the subject: "I heard that the Empire and Farland signed a truce that will not be lifted until next spring. How long do you think the Empire can hold out?"

"empire?"

Somerville reached into his inner shirt pocket and pulled out only an empty cigarette case. "Got any cigarettes?"

"besides."

The major hurriedly pulled out two crumpled cigarettes and a brand-new Dunhill brass lighter, rubbing them several times before finally lighting them: "I wonder if Farland can still restock cigarettes and alcohol now. The lads were really hungry when they crossed Apegi. I remember that alcohol and tobacco are prohibited there. I should have restocked back in the Empire."

"Fallan can't replenish those things now, can it?"

Somerville shook his head helplessly: "Information from our country says that Ireland hasn't had a good harvest for several years. With such heavy snow this year, even the autumn planting is in jeopardy."

His words immediately silenced the young major. As a fellow naval officer who had served in the Mediterranean, the major knew very well that the coast of Farland shouldn't have this kind of weather, and in comparison, it was even more unpredictable inland.

Having figured this out, he instinctively murmured, "I wonder how things are in the north and inland."

Somerville's expression was complicated: "It seems that the main fleet has been preparing to supply Farland since September. After the agreement is signed in October, the Farlanders can even buy grain from the Empire. It can be considered an expedient measure, right?"

"The Empire also sells grain to Farland?"

The young major was taken aback by Somerville's words: "But aren't they still at war? How come they're selling grain at this time? Can the Farrans afford it?"

"They said the price was even lower than our aid food," Somerville said softly, thick smoke billowing from his mouth.

"Are they really that kind?" the major asked, looking puzzled.

Somerville's response was quite intriguing: "It seems that it's because they really don't want to fight this war."

As someone who had never experienced a major war, the young major clearly did not understand the meaning of Somerville's words, which made him subconsciously ask in return: "Even if Farland is definitely in no position to win this war, do they still not want to fight?"

"More or less, but it seems to be different from the ideas of the current emperor of the empire and their chief of staff, Falkenhayn. However, the actions of the troops and the domestic operations are indeed developing in this direction."

As he spoke, Somerville recalled the newspapers from various countries for August, September, and October that he had obtained from an acquaintance in the Empire a month earlier.

Even though it occurs very infrequently, it only happens about ten times in total.

But the Imperial officer named Renn Frege still became the focus of attention for newspapers in all countries, especially some newspapers in Farland.

What's even more interesting is that their reports weren't about the so-called butchers or executioners of the empire.

In the newspapers, they referred to Renn Vlieg as "the hero of the empire" and "a friend of Farland."

For two countries at war to use such terms to refer to each other's officers is clearly problematic.

“Rain Frieger…” he said the name unconsciously.

"What did you say?" the major asked, looking at him curiously.

"No, it's nothing."

Somerville waved his hand: "Just an Imperial officer I'll never meet in my lifetime."

(End of this chapter)