World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Torpedo! Take evasive action!" The sentries on the harbor breakwater frantically waved their flags.

However, all three light cruisers were tethered and their engines were not running, so they couldn't move in time.

The first torpedo hit the bow of the Tatsuta. With a violent explosion, the bow of the 5,000-ton cruiser was blown open, and seawater rushed in.

The second and third shots hit the Tenryu and Yubari almost simultaneously. Huge gaps were blown open amidships of both ships, and flames and thick smoke instantly engulfed the hulls.

"Fire! Fire!" Chaos erupted on the dock. Fire trucks roared in, spraying water onto the burning ship.

But something even more terrible happened—the ammunition loaded on the Yubari was detonated.

The continuous explosions, like a string of firecrackers, blasted from bow to stern. Within minutes, the entire ship broke in two and slowly sank into the shallow waters of the harbor. The spray rose more than ten meters high, washing sailors and equipment on the dock into the sea.

Matsuji Ijuin stared blankly at everything. Three light cruisers, right before his eyes, in his own harbor, had been sunk by enemy submarines.

They didn't even find where the submarine was.

"Sound alarm! Locate enemy submarines!" he shouted into the communicator.

"We're...we're already detecting, Captain. But the echoes in the harbor are too complex, and..." the sonar officer's voice was filled with despair, "and the enemy may have already escaped."

They escaped. After sinking three warships, they calmly departed.

Ijuin Matsuji felt all the strength drain from his body. He held onto the railing to keep from falling.

In the harbor, the Ryuta and Tenryu were still burning and listing. Surviving sailors jumped into the sea like dumplings being dropped into a pot and swam to the dock. Many more sank with the ships.

In the distance, the sea beyond the breakwater remained calm as always. No one knew when that submarine (or those submarines) arrived or when it left.

It was like a ghost, a grim reaper from the deep sea, calmly reaping the lives of three warships in the empire's most important naval port.

Then, it disappeared into the vast ocean.

"Captain..." the first officer's voice trembled, "Are we... are we not even safe in the port anymore?"

Ijuin Matsuji did not answer. He turned around and slowly walked back to the captain's cabin.

He closed the door, shutting out the chaos and screams outside. He walked to his desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and inside was a Nambu-type pistol. (Not the Nambu Type 14)

He picked up the pistol, feeling the cold metallic touch. The bullet was already chambered; all he had to do was pull the trigger, and all the pain and humiliation would be over.

But his hands were trembling.

It's not that I'm afraid of death. It's that I'm... unwilling to accept it.

What does it mean to die like this? A deserter? A coward? Or... a sacrificial offering?

There was a knock at the door, and the first mate's voice called out: "Captain! Urgent telegram from Yokosuka! Navy Minister Yamamoto wishes to address the entire navy in person!"

Ijuin Matsuji lowered his pistol. He took a deep breath, straightened his uniform, and opened the door.

Where can I listen to it?

"Communications room, the broadcast system is now connected."

The two hurried toward the communications room. Along the way, they saw sailors whose faces were pale, their eyes filled with fear and confusion.

Inside the communications room, the loudspeakers were already on, emitting a static-like sound. Several officers stood there, waiting silently.

A few minutes later, the static stopped, and a steady, aged but powerful voice rang out:

"To all officers and men of the Imperial Navy, I am Navy Minister Yamamoto Gonnohyōe."

The sound was broadcast through the broadcasting system to every naval base, including Kure, Yokosuka, Sasebo, and Maizuru, and to every warship still at sea.

"I know that at this moment, everyone is filled with pain, anger, and confusion. I know that you have lost your comrades, your warships, and even... your honor."

"But I want to tell you: the Navy is not dead. As long as there is one sailor alive, as long as there is one warship afloat, the Navy is not dead."

A deep gasp came over the loudspeaker.

"Yes, we lost. We lost badly. But we didn't lose because of a lack of courage, or because of a lack of training. We lost because of... the times. The enemy possessed technology we couldn't understand, tactics we couldn't counter. This isn't anyone's fault; it's a gap in the entire era."

"But this is not the time to assign blame, nor is it the time to despair. Now is the time for us to unite and to survive."

"I order: All ships to withdraw into the inland sea according to the pre-arranged plan. All bases to enter a state of high alert. All officers and soldiers to remain at their posts and perform their duties."

"I know this order is humiliating. I know you want revenge, you want to avenge your defeat. But now is not the time. What we need now is time, patience, and... the will to live."

"Remember: Today's retreat is for tomorrow's rise. Today's patience is for future counterattack. As long as we live, as long as the navy exists, there is still hope."

"Gentlemen, I know this is difficult. But please believe in me, believe in yourselves. The Imperial Navy has weathered countless storms, and this time... we will get through it too."

"Long live His Majesty the Heavenly Locust! Long live the Imperial Navy!"

The broadcast ended. Silence fell over the communications room.

Ijuin Matsuji stood there, motionless for a long time. Yamamoto's words brought no miracle, no hope, but rather a kind of... peace.

A calm acceptance of reality.

"Lieutenant Commander," he began, his voice hoarse, "order the entire ship to prepare for departure. Destination... the Seto Inland Sea."

"But Captain, what about those three sunken light cruisers..."

"Hand it over to the port authorities," Ijuin interrupted him. "Our mission is to survive. This is the minister's order, and... it's the only thing we can do."

The first mate looked at him, then finally stood at attention and saluted: "Yes, sir!"

Ijuin Matsuji walked back to the bridge. Outside the window, the Tatsuta had sunk more than halfway, with only its mast visible above the water. The Tenryu was still burning, but the fire had subsided considerably.

Three warships and several hundred sailors were gone just like that.

In their own port.

He clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm. It hurt, but compared to the pain in his heart, it was nothing.

"Record it," he told the navigator, "On September 3rd, 1924, at 3:20 PM, Kure Harbor was attacked by an enemy submarine. The ships Tatsuta, Tenryu, and Yubari sank. Casualties... to be tallied."

The navigator silently took notes. The pen tip scratched across the paper, making a soft, rustling sound, like weeping.

Ijuin Matsuji took one last look at the burning sea, then turned away:

"Weigh anchor and leave port."

The massive Katori began to move, slowly leaving the dock. Behind it, other ships also set sail one after another.

A fleet is heading not to the battlefield, but to a refuge.

Is it shameful? Yes.

But living is more important than shame.

At least for now, they have to believe that.