World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Missing fire!" the lookout screamed, "All fleet ahead!"

But the moment the words left his mouth, the real hit began.

The German battleship HMS Emperor—one of the newer dreadnoughts in the fleet—became one of the first victims. A 343mm shell from HMS Iron Duke struck her foredeck. The explosion ripped the entire forward secondary gun emplacement off the deck, and flames and shrapnel swept across the deck, instantly killing more than twenty sailors.

Inside the forward main gun turret of the HMS Emperor, Sergeant Horst felt the entire ship shake violently. Explosions came from above, and the lights in the turret flickered.

"Hit!" Hans shouted in terror, "We've been hit!"

"Calm down!" Horst roared. "Check the damage! Communications, report the situation!"

But all that could be heard from the communicator was a piercing static. Communication between the turret and the bridge had been severed.

Horst knew what this meant—the cables might have been severed, or worse, the bridge itself might have been hit. He forced himself to remain calm and followed training procedures.

"Manual control!" he ordered. "Rotate the turret, aim at starboard! Load armor-piercing rounds! We're returning fire!"

But at that moment, a second shell struck the Emperor.

This time, the impact was lower and more lethal. The shell penetrated the midships armor belt and exploded near the boiler room. High-pressure steam erupted, instantly scalding the crew and officers in the boiler room. With the propulsion system damaged, the "Emperor's" speed began to decrease.

Ahead of the "Emperor," the "Lützow"—Germany's most advanced battlecruiser and Hipper's flagship—suffered an even more devastating blow.

Two British shells hit her almost simultaneously. One struck the frontal armor of the forward main turret, tearing through the 305mm armor with a 343mm armor-piercing shell. The shell exploded inside the turret, detonating some of the ready-to-fire ammunition.

Miraculously, however, a secondary explosion did not occur—the German warship's ammunition magazine safety procedures kicked in, and the fire doors closed in time, preventing the flames from spreading to the magazine. (The Germans' defenses always seemed to be quite effective.)

However, the turret itself was destroyed. All the officers and men inside were killed, including Horst's colleague, the unnamed German artillery officer.

Another shell struck the "Lützow" amidships, tearing a large gash near the waterline. Seawater rushed in, and the warship began to list.

On the bridge of the Lütsov, Hipper was knocked to the ground by the shockwave of the explosion. He got up and wiped the blood from his face—a shard of debris had cut his forehead.

"Report damage!" he roared.

"Forward main gun turret destroyed! Midships taking on water! Speed ​​reduced to 18 knots!" The adjutant's voice was barely audible amidst the alarms and explosions.

Hipper looked out the window. The scene before him was one he would never forget.

In the thick fog, the outlines of the British warships were faintly visible, lined up in neat rows, their broadside guns spewing flames. On the German side, the warships were erratically maneuvering and evading, their formation in complete disarray. Some ships were returning fire, but their firepower was sparse and chaotic. Most were simply charging blindly forward, trying to break through this deadly line of fire.

"We've fallen into their trap..." Hipper murmured.

A perfect trap. Betty wasn't running away; he was the bait. Jericho wasn't unprepared; he was fully prepared, waiting silently in the fog, like a spider waiting for a fly to fly into its web.

"Commander!" the signalman shouted, "Flagship order: All personnel turn 180 degrees! Disengage!"

Hipper looked toward the flagship, the Frederick the Great. Through the thick fog and smoke, he could barely make out the massive silhouette of the warship; it was also turning and being bombarded.

"Execute the order!" Hipper commanded. "Hard to port! Heading 180! Release smoke! Full speed away!"

But just then, the third round of British shots came down.

This time, the shells were much more accurate. The British fire control officers had already adjusted their firing parameters based on the impact points of the first two volleys, and now their shells were truly finding their targets.

6:35 PM. Just five minutes into the battle, the tactical advantage of crossing the T-shaped formation was already fully demonstrated.

On the British side, all the main guns along the entire battle line were able to fire at the German fleet. The firepower density reached an astonishing three hundred large-caliber shells per minute. Moreover, since the German fleet was approaching almost vertically, the British gunners did not need to perform complex calculations of lateral movement, making aiming relatively simple.

On the German side, only the main guns of a few ships at the front of the column were able to be pointed at the British. Moreover, due to the chaotic formation and hasty turns, many ships could not even obtain a stable firing platform. Their return fire was sparse and ineffective, with most shells missing their mark.

In the fire control room of the Iron Duke, Major Smith stared at the rangefinder readings with an incredulous expression on his face.

"Hit rate... Good heavens, hit rate over 15%!"

In battleship engagements, a 5% hit rate is already considered good. 15% is on a massacre level of efficiency.

"The German formation is too dense," one calculator exclaimed excitedly. "They're huddled together, turning in disarray—they're sitting ducks!"

Smith glanced at the intercom, hesitated for a moment, then connected to the bridge: "Sir, fire control room reports: the enemy fleet's formation is chaotic and turning slowly. We recommend concentrating fire on its lead ship; taking down the leader will only make things worse for the rest."

A few seconds later, Jellicoe's reply came: "Approved. Inform the entire fleet: Concentrate fire on the first three to four ships of the enemy column."

The order was relayed via light signals. Soon, the British battle lines began to concentrate their firepower.

The "Emperor," "Lützow," "Frederick the Great," and other warships at the forefront of the German column endured unprecedented firepower.

On the HMS Emperor, the situation was on the verge of spiraling out of control.

The third, fourth, and fifth shells hit in quick succession. A secondary gun turret was blown off, the bridge was damaged, and multiple fires broke out. The flooding worsened, and the warship's list angle exceeded ten degrees.

At the damage control center, officers frantically directed efforts to plug leaks and extinguish fires. But every report brought bad news.

"Boiler compartment A is completely destroyed! Boiler compartment B is flooded!"

"The front ammunition depot has been filled with water, but the rear ammunition depot's water filling system has malfunctioned!"

"The breach amidships is too large to be plugged!"

The captain knew his ship wouldn't last much longer. He made the painful decision: "Prepare to abandon ship. But before that..." He looked at the communications officer, "Tell the flagship that the 'Emperor' is still fighting. We will hold out until the very end."

Inside the forward main gun turret of the HMS Emperor, Sergeant Horst was unaware of the ship's dire condition. All he knew was that the turrets could still rotate and the guns could still fire.

"Loading complete!" Hans shouted, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and fear.

"Fire!" Horst ordered.