Persian Empire 1845

Chapter 664 Battle of the Black Sea (Part 2)

"General, the Swift has sent a signal confirming that our fleet has passed the pre-set warning line and has not detected any trace of the main Russian forces," a young naval lieutenant reported in a low voice, his excitement barely concealed.

Xerxes nodded slightly, his tense nerves relaxing a little. He knew that the most crucial first step in this high-stakes gamble—concealed maneuvering—had already been largely successful. While the dense fog posed a significant risk to their voyage, it also provided them with the best cover.

"Order all ships to maintain strict blackout and proceed in the predetermined formation northeastward, target...the coast of Yevpatoria, Crimea." Xerxes' voice was calm and unquestionable.

His choice of Yevpatoria over a direct attack on Sevastopol was a well-considered one. It was an important logistical hub and secondary naval port for the Russian army, relatively weakly defended but strategically significant. Attacking there would cause considerable panic while avoiding an unforeseen trap set by Sevastopol's formidable coastal artillery fire.

Almost simultaneously, about forty nautical miles to the northwest, the massive silhouette of the Russian Black Sea Fleet loomed in the thick fog. Fleet Commander Admiral Andrei Popov was equally anxious.

"Haven't we found any trace of the Turks yet?" Popov asked his staff officer impatiently.

"General, the fog is too thick; the lookouts can't see anything. Our lead cruiser hasn't found anything either," the staff officer replied cautiously.

Popov snorted and slammed his fist on the chart table: "These cowards must be hiding in the ports of Varna or Burgas, trembling with fear by the shore guns! Send the order to speed up the advance! I'm going to bombard their ports by sunrise tomorrow!"

He firmly believed in his judgment that the Combined Fleet would never dare to sail out to fight him, let alone have the audacity to cross the Black Sea and attack Crimea. This misjudgment, based on past experience and arrogance, led to a breathtaking "near miss" between the two main fleets that would determine the fate of the Black Sea, sailing almost parallel to each other in the thick fog.

May 15th, afternoon. The thick fog gradually dissipated, and the winding coastline of the Crimean Peninsula became clearly visible in the sunlight. The Combined Fleet appeared like a ghost off the coast of Yevpatoria.

"Targets: port facilities, storage areas, railway hubs! All ships, fire freely at the designated targets!" Xerxes, standing on the bridge, observed the gradually becoming clearer targets on the shore through his binoculars and issued the order.

boom! boom! Boom!
Deafening explosions rang out one after another. Cranes in the port were reduced to twisted scrap metal, and flames roared into the sky from the warehouse area, plumes of black smoke shooting straight into the heavens. A military train unloading cargo was directly hit, triggering a chain of explosions that sent debris flying hundreds of meters away. Several small Russian auxiliary vessels anchored in the port attempted to escape, but were quickly sunk or severely damaged by the precise fire of the Combined Fleet cruisers.

The Russian garrison and residents on the shore were completely stunned by this sudden attack. They never imagined that an enemy fleet would appear so brazenly on Crimea's doorstep. Sporadic coastal artillery began to return fire, but its power was limited and posed little threat to the agile Combined Fleet warships.

The bombardment lasted for about an hour, and the entire port of Yevpatoria was almost completely razed to the ground. Seeing that the main target had been destroyed, Xerxes decisively ordered: "Cease fire! The fleet turns and reconnoiters along the southern Crimean coast towards Sevastopol!"

Xerxes' aim was to create maximum panic and draw the main Russian forces back. The fleet cruised slowly along the coastline, occasionally bombarding minor targets along the way, such as lighthouses, signal stations, and small outposts, with its secondary guns. The flames of war spread along the Crimean coast, and panic reached Sevastopol even faster than the fleet itself. When news of the heavy bombardment of Yevpatoria reached Admiral Popov, who was pacing aimlessly off the coast of Varna, he was initially incredulous, then flew into a rage.

"What?! They went to Crimea?! That's impossible!" Popov's face flushed with anger. "Those cunning Persians and Turks! How dare they!"

He immediately realized the gravity of his mistake. The very foundation of the Black Sea Fleet was being attacked with impunity! Shame and panic overwhelmed him instantly.

"Turn around! Immediately! Return to Sevastopol at full speed!" Popov practically roared the order. The massive Russian fleet drew a huge, hasty arc across the sea and began to turn eastward at breakneck speed. All the battleships increased their boiler pressure to maximum, and thick black smoke obscured the sky.

In pursuit of speed, the fleet's formation began to loosen, the speed difference between new and old ships widened, and the previously rigorous reconnaissance and surveillance faltered. Popov had only one thought in his mind: get back as quickly as possible, capture those audacious attackers, and crush them!
On the morning of May 17th, the Combined Fleet, having completed its harassing bombardment of the southern coast of Crimea, was sailing back to the Bosphorus Strait, roughly in the waters between the southwestern tip of the Crimean Peninsula and the Bulgarian coast. Xerxes stood on the bridge, his mood not relaxed by the successful attack, but rather even more grave. He knew the most dangerous moment was about to arrive.

"Report! A large plume of smoke has been spotted to the southeast!" came the urgent shout from the lookout post.

Xerxes immediately raised his telescope and saw a thick, continuous wall of black smoke rapidly approaching from the horizon. It was the sight of a large number of steam-powered warships sailing at full speed.

"It's finally here..." Xerxes took a deep breath. "Full fleet, level one combat readiness! Seize the windward position!"

The piercing battle alarms blared on every ship, and sailors rushed to their battle stations. The turrets began to rotate, and the hoists lifted heavy shells and propellant charges from the magazines. A tense atmosphere, the grim silence that preceded a decisive battle, filled the air.

The Russian fleet also spotted the combined fleet ahead. Popov, aboard his warship, looked at the enemy fleet in the distance—significantly smaller than their own but fiercely prepared—and a sinister smile spread across his face.

"Found you! You damned rats!" He brandished his fist. "Full fleet, deploy into battle formation! Battleships in the center, cruisers on the flanks! Let's show them with our cannons who the masters of the Black Sea are!"

The two massive fleets began rapidly adjusting their formations on the sea. The Combined Fleet attempted to exploit the superior speed of some of its ships to seize a favorable T-shaped position, maximizing its broadside firepower. Meanwhile, the Russian fleet, relying on its numerical superiority and heavy armor, prepared to overwhelm the Russians with a steel line of battleships.

(End of this chapter)