World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Fifteen days is simply not enough!" Trotta couldn't help but raise his voice. "The main drive shaft of the 'Frederick the Great' is still being calibrated, the forward main gun turret of the 'Seydlitz' has only just been installed and needs at least two weeks of testing. The boiler room leak problem on the 'King' hasn't been completely resolved yet..."

“I know,” Tirpitz interrupted him, walking to his desk and sitting down. “I know all of this. But Berlin doesn’t know, or rather, they don’t want to know.”

He opened the drawer and took out a thick folder. It contained detailed reports on the damage assessments and repair progress of each ship, totaling over three hundred pages. Every page was filled with cold technical data, and every line was proof that time had been needed.

"Compile this data into a summary report." Tirpitz pushed the folder to Trotta. "Highlight the key points: which ships can be back to combat readiness by July 10th, and which cannot; what risks each ship faces if we force an attack; and what our chances of victory are if we encounter the main British fleet."

Trota took the folder, his fingers tightening, the edges of the papers slightly warped: "Marshal, if we report the truth... the Emperor will think we're making excuses."

"Then let him believe it." Tirpitz stood up and walked to the North Sea chart on the wall. "Trotta, I ask you: If you were a doctor, and a patient was seriously ill and needed rest, but the patient insisted on getting out of bed and running immediately, should you tell him the truth, or go along with his wishes?"

"This is different..."

“It’s exactly the same.” Tirpitz turned, his eyes sharp. “My duty is not to please the Emperor, but to protect the German Navy and the lives of tens of thousands of sailors. If I’m to be dismissed for telling the truth, so be it. But before I’m dismissed, I must tell the truth.”

Trotta fell silent. He looked down at the folder in his hands, the dense data seeming to mock him—mocking all those who try to use political will to change the laws of physics.

"Then how should we reply to the sergeant's office?" he finally asked.

"Reply truthfully." Tirpitz walked back to his desk, picked up a pen and paper, and said, "I'll draft the reply. You prepare the technical data; make it detailed and convincing. Also…"

He paused, his gaze deepening. "Notify all ship captains that there will be a meeting at 2 PM. I need to personally understand the situation of each ship. If necessary, I will have them jointly sign a risk assessment report. Berlin may not trust me alone, but it cannot distrust the senior commanders of the entire fleet."

"Yes." Trota stood at attention, saluted, and turned to leave.

The office fell silent again. Tirpitz sat down and began drafting the reply that was destined to displease Berlin. The pen nib scratched on the paper, each word written slowly and heavily:

"To His Majesty's Attendant Chamberlain: We have received orders for the fleet to launch an attack. After urgent consultations with the captains of the ships and the shipyard engineers, the current situation is as follows..."

He meticulously listed the condition of each capital ship: the transmission system problem of the "Frederick the Great", the turret testing of the "Seydlitz" required time, the boiler of the "King" had a hidden danger, the fire control system calibration of the "Great Elector" was not completed... He wrote three pages in detail.

At the end, he wrote:

"Given the aforementioned realities, there is less than a 30% chance that the High Seas Fleet will be fully operational by July 10th. Forcing a sortie would not only make it difficult to achieve tactical objectives but could also result in significant losses due to ship malfunctions or performance deficiencies. It is recommended that the sortie be postponed to July 25th, by which time most ships will have completed the necessary repairs and testing. Your loyal servant, Alfred von Tirpitz."

After finishing writing, he read it carefully and then signed his name. The pen tip made a slight tearing sound as it glided across the paper, as if the telegram itself was tearing something apart.

By 1:50 p.m., the conference room was already full of people.

The twelve capital ship captains, three battlecruiser captains, cruiser squadron commanders, destroyer force commanders… almost all the senior commanders of the German High Seas Fleet were present. The conference room was filled with smoke, and the officers spoke in hushed tones; the atmosphere was heavy.

When Tirpitz entered, everyone immediately stood up. He walked to the head of the long table and gestured for everyone to sit down.

"Gentlemen, time is of the essence, let's get straight to the point." He cut to the chase. "Berlin demands that we be ready to launch by July 10th. Now, please report on the actual status of your respective ships. I want the truth, not diplomatic rhetoric or optimistic estimates."

He looked at Captain von Trotta of the "Frederick the Great," who was sitting in the first seat on the left—the same surname as the Chief of Staff but not related by blood.

"Captain Trota, you go first."

Captain von Trotta stood up, his face grim. "Your Excellency," he said, "the port side breach of the 'Frederick the Great' has been repaired, but during yesterday's sea trials, a slight vibration was observed in the main drive shaft at high speed. The engineering department believes it may be due to slight deformation of the bearing housing caused by the impact during the Battle of Jutland. To completely resolve this, it needs to be disassembled and inspected in dry dock, which will take at least a week."

"What if we launch an attack with this question in mind?" Tirpitz asked.

"The risk is very high." The captain stated bluntly, "During combat maneuvers, if the vibrations intensify, it could cause the drive shaft to break. Then the entire ship would lose power and become an easy target on the battlefield."

Tirpitz nodded, gesturing for him to sit down. Then he looked at the captain of the Seydlitz.

"We're in a worse situation," the captain of the Seydlitz said hoarsely, without rising. "The newly installed forward main gun turret can rotate, but the hydraulic system is leaking, about two liters of oil per minute. The engineers say that a complete repair would require disassembling the entire rotating mechanism, which will take at least ten days. And..."

He paused, then continued, "Furthermore, the ammunition hoisting system isn't fully operational yet. The lessons from Jutland have taught us that ammunition depot security cannot be taken lightly. If we force its use, what if there's a jam or an operational error..."

He didn't finish speaking, but everyone understood the consequences—another warship sank due to a depot explosion.

Next came HMS King, HMS Elector, HMS Crown Prince William… Each report was similar: the problem was minor but fatal, repairs would take time, and a forced sortie was extremely risky.

When the last captain finished reporting, the conference room fell into a deathly silence. The clock on the wall ticked away, each second seeming to count down something.

Tirpitz looked around at everyone: "So, based on these realities, if we must launch our attack on July 10th, what do you all think our chances of success are?"

No one answered.

"I want to hear the truth," Tirpitz repeated.