World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"yes!"

The turret started operating again. But this time, everyone's movements were heavier and more silent.

They knew what they were doing. They knew it was dishonorable, unfair, and even immoral.

But they also knew that it had to be done.

Because on that burning sea, the crew of the Fuxing were using their last strength to wait for their rescue.

At 6:48 a.m., the forward ammunition magazine of the Haruna was directly hit by a 380 mm armor-piercing round.

The fireball from the explosion reached a height of 200 meters, ripping the entire foredeck off the ship. More than 300 officers and men, including the captain, were instantly killed. The Haruna lost all power and began to drift helplessly on the sea.

At 6:50, the Hiei was hit by three missiles, its engine room was destroyed, and its speed dropped to 5 knots.

At 6:52, the bridge of the Kongo was swept away by shrapnel from a near-missed shell, killing Chief of Staff Kuroshima and seriously wounding Tomosaburo Kato.

Three of the four Kongo-class battleships were completely destroyed and one was rendered silent within just twelve minutes.

Even now, the surviving Japanese sailors haven't even seen a glimpse of the enemy.

At 6:52 a.m., on the bridge of the battleship Kongo.

Lieutenant General Tomosaburo Kato staggered to his feet, blood gushing from his forehead, soaking through the freshly bandaged wound. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, his palm immediately smeared with thick, warm blood. Through the shattered porthole, he saw that only a huge whirlpool remained on the surface of the sea where the Kirishima had been, oil slicks and debris slowly sinking.

"The Kirishima... confirmed sunk." The observer's voice trembled, almost inaudible.

"Where's Haruna?" Kato's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping.

"The forward ammunition magazine has exploded, power has been lost, and the ship is listing... The captain has ordered the ship abandoned."

"Hiei?"

"The engine room has been hit by gunfire, the speed has dropped to 5 knots, and the fire is out of control..."

Kato closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The smell of gunpowder and blood filled his nostrils, making him dizzy. Three Kongo-class battleships, the most elite force of the Imperial Navy, had been lost in less than fifteen minutes: two sunk and one on the verge of collapse.

As for the enemy... he hadn't even seen a glimpse of the enemy yet.

"Distance!" Kato's eyes snapped open, bloodshot. "How far away are the enemy ships? Why can't we see them yet?"

Lieutenant Miyamoto knelt before the smoking equipment, his fingers trembling as he adjusted the knobs. "Sir...Sir, the meals our lookouts were given, rich in Vitamin A, eel, and cod liver oil, seem to be counterfeit...so...we can only detect targets at a maximum of 20,000 yards. But based on the shell's flight time..." (This is a joke...if this were a post-war investigation, the editor could have written a few more chapters, hahaha)

He swallowed hard, his voice barely audible: "The enemy ships are at least 25,000 yards away, possibly even further."

"Twenty-five thousand yards..." Kato repeated the number, then suddenly laughed. The laughter started softly, then grew louder and louder, finally turning into a hysterical maniacal laugh, mixed with coughing up blood.

"Twenty-five thousand yards! Hahahaha! The Imperial Navy's longest hit record is eighteen thousand yards! That was a miracle achieved by Commander-in-Chief Togo in the Tsushima Strait! And now, someone is using us as targets from twenty-five thousand yards away with a hit rate of over ten percent!"

His laughter abruptly stopped, replaced by a furious roar: "This can't be! This fucking can't be! Something must be wrong! It must be..."

"Sir!" the lookout's scream interrupted him, "Shells! More are coming!"

Kato rushed to the porthole. In the southeastern sky, dozens of black dots were rapidly growing larger. This time it wasn't a salvo from four ships—but a salvo from thirty-two massive cannons, all aimed at the Kongo.

"Hard to starboard! Emergency evasive maneuver!" Kato roared hoarsely.

The massive Kongo began to turn with difficulty. However, its rudder had been damaged by the Fuxing in the previous battle, reducing its turning speed to only half of normal. Meanwhile, a shell only takes thirty seconds from firing to landing.

Thirty seconds.

The bridge was deathly silent. Everyone stared out the windows at the ever-growing black dots. Some began to pray, some closed their eyes, and some wet themselves without even realizing it.

Kato didn't flinch. He stood there, gripping the railing tightly, his fingernails digging into the wood. He thought of his father, an old sailor who had fought in the First Sino-Japanese War. His father often said, "At sea, you can't escape death when it's your turn, and you won't die when it's not."

So, is today the day to die?

The first shell landed eighty meters to port. The 380mm high-explosive shell exploded underwater, and the resulting giant waves crashed against the hull of the Kongo, causing the entire ship to tremble.

The second shot was even closer, fifty meters.

The third shot...

"boom--!!!"

A 380mm armor-piercing shell struck the Kongo's aft superstructure. The four-story-high navigation bridge was torn apart like paper, and steel fragments, equipment, and human remains flew into the sky like a shower of petals.

The shockwave traveled along the ship's hull, and Kato felt as if he had been struck in the chest by an invisible giant hammer. He was thrown backward and crashed heavily into the bulkhead. The excruciating pain from his broken ribs almost made him faint, but he gritted his teeth and held on.

"Report...report the damage..." He coughed up blood and struggled to get up.

No one answered. Less than half the men remained standing on the bridge, and all of them were wounded. The navigator's arm had been severed by shrapnel, but he pressed his other hand firmly against the wound, his face as pale as a corpse.

"Sir... the aft bridge... completely destroyed..." a young communications soldier cried. "The navigator, the communications officer, the observation officer... all gone..."

Kato staggered to the megaphone, but the equipment had malfunctioned. He turned to the few officers who were still able to move: "Go to the backup command room downstairs! Re-establish command!"

"But sir, your injury..."

"Execute the command!"

The officers helped each other away. Kato took one last look at the main bridge—it had become a steel tomb, with at least twenty officers and soldiers lying there, some still alive, groaning in pools of blood.

He turned and, supporting himself against the wall, walked towards the gangway leading to the lower deck. Each step was excruciating, but he could not fall. He was the Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet, the symbol of the Imperial Navy. If he fell, the ship would truly be finished.

The Kongo-class frigate's B turret is located amidships.

Gunner Yamada Ichiro used all his strength to turn the jammed turret traverse mechanism. His hands were covered in blisters, and sweat mixed with engine oil and dust left streaks on his face.

"Keep turning! Faster!" he yelled at the loader behind him.

"Gunner...it's no use..." the young loader, Morishita, cried. "The hydraulic system is completely broken, we can't turn it..."

"Then turn it by hand! With crowbars! With your fucking lives!" Yamada Ichiro's eyes were bloodshot. "If we can't fire the cannon, what are we waiting for in this iron coffin? To die?"