World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

The massive Fuxing-class destroyer spun a near-right-angle turn across the sea. The immense centrifugal force sent everything loosely anchored flying. On the bridge, a young operator was nearly thrown off, but Zhao Wenyuan caught him.

The moment the turn was completed, the four main gun turrets of the Fuxing completed their rotation. All eight 381mm guns were aimed at the Hiei, which was flanking it from the port side.

"Fire!"

Lin Haisheng's order was short and forceful.

"BOOM ...

The salvo from all eight main guns generated recoil that caused the 40,000-ton ship to violently shift sideways by several meters. The flames and shockwaves from the gun barrels forced a noticeable dent into the seawater at the bow.

On the gun deck, Gunner Li Dazhu plugged his ears with cotton balls, but he was still dizzy from the shockwaves. However, his hands didn't falter for a moment: "Clear the barrel! Load! Next armor-piercing shell!"

This Shandong man was among the first batch of artillerymen in the Lanfang Navy, and he fired thousands of training rounds in Dubai. But this was his first time doing live-fire exercises, especially one of this life-or-death significance.

"Squad leader, can we hit him?" an eighteen-year-old recruit asked, his face pale.

Li Dazhu slapped him on the helmet: "Nonsense! You've trained for so many years for this day! If you can't hit it, then you're a complete failure. Keep a close eye on the fire control commands. If you miss even one number, I'll shove you into the cannon and fire you!"

The new recruit gritted his teeth and nodded, his eyes fixed on the firing parameters being transmitted.

Meanwhile, the eight shells, each weighing 871 kilograms, had already traveled 15 kilometers and were hurtling toward the Hiei.

Bridge of the Hiei.

Captain Tomosuke Yamamoto was a seasoned veteran of the navy. During the Russo-Japanese War, he served as a torpedo officer on a destroyer and witnessed firsthand the sinking of Russian battleships under torpedo attacks. But he had never seen anything so spectacular—or rather, so terrifying—of artillery fire.

Eight columns of water, like eight giant spikes suddenly thrusting from the seabed, rose simultaneously around the hull of his ship. The closest one landed less than fifty meters to the port side, splashing seawater onto the deck like a torrential downpour.

"The entire ship has been hit!" the observer screamed, his voice trembling with tears. "Two hits on the starboard side! Turret number one has been hit!"

Yamamoto rushed to the starboard observation window. The sight before him made him gasp: a 381mm armor-piercing shell had struck the forward superstructure of the Hiei, blasting a hole more than three meters in diameter. Another shell had hit the frontal armor of the forward main gun turret; although it hadn't penetrated, the enormous impact had jammed the entire turret's rotating mechanism.

"Damage control team! Get to the foredeck!" Yamamoto yelled into the communicator. "Report on casualties!"

"Captain... Turret number one... completely destroyed..." A survivor inside the turret spoke intermittently through the internal phone, "The loader is dead... the gunner too..."

Yamamoto's heart sank. One volley, just one volley, had wiped out a quarter of his firepower.

"Fight back! Fight back immediately!" he ordered, his eyes red.

The Hiei's remaining six main guns began to return fire. However, the hasty firing lacked accuracy, and all the shells landed at least 300 meters behind the Fuxing.

Just then, even worse news came from the observation tower:

"Enemy ships... enemy ships are turning! They're coming for us!"

Yamamoto looked up and saw the massive, dark gray ship drawing a graceful arc across the sea. Eight dark cannons were once again aimed at him.

"Hard to left! Full speed! Create distance!" Yamamoto practically roared as he gave the order.

But it was too late.

The bridge of the Fuxing high-speed train.

"Two hits!" The observer's voice trembled with excitement. "The enemy ship is on fire in the bow! The turrets have stopped rotating!"

Lin Haisheng showed no joy. His gaze darted rapidly between the nautical chart and the radar screen.

"Very good. But now we're exposed to the guns of the Kongo and Kirishima," he said calmly. "Twenty degrees to port, heading back to 150. Engine room, can we go any faster?"

"That's the limit, Captain!" Liu Mingde's voice was hoarse. "Any faster and the boilers might fail!"

"Then maintain this speed." Lin Haisheng looked at the gunnery officer. "Gunnery Officer Wang, next target—the King Kong. Distance?"

"Fifteen thousand two!"

"All ships fire at once!"

The Fuxing bullet train opened fire again. This time, the shells were aimed at the Kongo bullet train, which was pursuing from the right flank.

But almost at the same time, the main guns of the Kongo and Kirishima roared. Twelve 356mm shells rained down on the Fuxing.

"All ships, prepare for impact!" Zhao Wenyuan shouted over the loudspeaker.

Lin Haisheng did not dodge. He just stood in the middle of the bridge with his hands behind his back, as if the incoming shells were just insignificant raindrops.

The first near miss landed 80 meters to port. The second was even closer, 50 meters. The third…

"boom!!!"

An armor-piercing shell struck the stern of the Fuxing. The massive explosion shook the entire ship violently. The lights in the bridge went out instantly, only to be restored by emergency power a second later.

"Report damage!" Lin Haisheng's voice remained calm.

"Sector C hit! Stern deck penetrated! No. 3 secondary gun turret destroyed!" came the urgent report from damage control center. "Casualties... casualties are being tallied!"

"Continue the fight," Lin Haisheng said, uttering only four words.

He walked to the starboard observation window and looked at the Kongo through his binoculars. Black smoke was also billowing from the foredeck of the Japanese flagship—the Fuxing's second salvo had at least one near miss.

"Captain, the Hiei and Haruna are flanking us from the left again!" Chen Qiming said anxiously. "We're surrounded on all sides!"

Lin Haisheng glanced at the radar screen. Indeed, the four dots were converging from four directions, like a tightening noose.

"Send a telegram," he suddenly said.

"What?" Chen Qiming didn't react.

"Send a telegram to the Yangtze River," Lin Haisheng said, enunciating each word clearly. "The telegram should say: 'I prepared a meal, and two tables of guests have arrived.'"

Communications officer Li Jing immediately sat down at the radio, her fingers rapidly tapping on the telegraph key. The ticking of the Morse code traveled through the smoke over the sea to a place forty nautical miles away.

After sending the telegram, Lin Haisheng turned to look at all the officers on the bridge. Their faces showed tension and fear, but even more so, determination.

"Gentlemen," his voice was soft but clear to everyone, "the most difficult phase has begun. We must hold out against four enemy ships for at least twenty minutes. Reinforcements will arrive in twenty minutes."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across each face: "In these twenty minutes, we may be hit by bullets, we may catch fire, and we may lose our lives. But I ask you to remember—the Fuxing is not an ordinary warship. It is the symbol of the Lanfang Navy, the hope that all the Chinese in Southeast Asia have waited for for decades."

"Today, we are here not just to fight a naval battle. We are telling the world, and all those who have bullied us, that the Chinese people have their own navy and their own country. And every inch of this country's territorial waters will be defended with blood and fire."

The bridge was silent. The only sounds were the vibrations from the engine room and the distant roar of shells hitting the water.

"Well then," he said softly, as if talking to himself, "let's begin this twenty-minute hellish journey."

Outside the window, the third salvo from the Kongo was already roaring in. Water columns rose like a forest around the Fuxing.

Further out at sea level, four even larger shadows were silently approaching at a speed of twenty-eight knots.