World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"One shot landed five meters below the bridge, blowing off the external antenna of the radio room. The main radio equipment is intact, but the backup antenna is damaged. The communications team is working to repair it."

"The most important shot—" Captain Meyer paused, "near the ammunition feeding mechanism of turret A. Shrapnel severed part of the hydraulic lines, and now turret number one's loading speed is only half normal. The turret itself is intact, the gun barrel is undamaged, but manual assistance is required for ammunition feeding."

Scher frowned.

Turret A. That was the most important of the Bismarck's four main gun turrets—the primary forward-firing turret. If its ammunition rate were halved…

"How long will it take to fix?"

"General, it will take at least six hours. And we'll need to stop sailing—hydraulic lines cannot be replaced while at sea."

Flights suspended.

At this critical juncture, suspending flights is tantamount to suicide.

"Continue the repairs," Scheer said. "Repair as much as you can while the ship is at sea. We'll talk about it in six hours... six hours from now."

"Yes."

Scheer put down the receiver and turned to the navigator: "What about the damage control report for the Tirpitz?"

The navigator handed over a newly received signal note: "Tirpitz, General. They have been hit by two shells. One landed near boiler room number two, causing minor flooding, which has been stopped; the other landed on the aft deck, destroying a seaplane. No casualties. Speed ​​can be maintained at 29 knots."

Section 29.

It was one stop slower than the Bismarck.

Scheer walked to the chart table and traced the evacuation route he had just marked. From their current position, heading southwest, there were no British naval bases, no German supply depots, only the boundless Atlantic Ocean.

"Signal the Tirpitz," he said. "Just maintain a speed of 29 knots; there's no need to force yourself to keep up. We'll adjust according to their speed."

The signalman raised the signal light, which flashed in the morning light.

Thirty seconds later, a response came from the direction of the Tirpitz: "Received. The Tirpitz thanks the Bismarck for its understanding."

Scher's lips twitched slightly. It wasn't a smile; it was some more complex expression.

Understanding.

With pursuers close behind and the future uncertain, the word "understanding" seems like a luxury. But he must be understanding.

If it is forced to keep up with Bismarck's speed, the flooding in the boiler room may worsen, and the speed may decrease further. When Jellicoe catches up, it will become a drag on the entire fleet.

Rather than that, it would be better to slow down now and allow both ships to remain stable.

This is the mathematics of a fleet. It's not about which ship is the fastest; it's about the slowest ship determining the speed of the entire fleet.

Scher straightened up and looked at the boundless, dark gray sea in front of him.

The sun had fully risen. The morning light over the North Atlantic was so clear it was almost transparent, with visibility of at least twenty nautical miles. At this distance, a lookout could see any ship's silhouette on the horizon with the naked eye.

Not yet.

But what about three hours later?

"What has the radar detected?" he asked.

The radar officer's voice came from the corner: "General, there are no large ships within the current scan range. There are several small targets, all more than twenty nautical miles away, possibly fishing boats or merchant ships."

Scher nodded.

Radar. This was the Bismarck-class's most powerful weapon. The two Hood-class ships the British acquired from Lanfang had radar, but they both went to the bottom of the sea. During this time, intelligence revealed that the British had not developed their own radar; on the contrary, German warships could detect targets twenty nautical miles away in any weather. If Jellicoe had caught up, they would have been the first to spot him.

However, radar also has limitations.

It can only detect targets, not destroy them. What truly determines victory or defeat is still those eight 380mm main guns—and the number of shells.

"Ammunition report," Scheer said, turning to the quartermaster.

The quartermaster opened his notebook: "General, the Bismarck carried a total of 840 armor-piercing shells and 160 high-explosive shells. After engaging the Queen Elizabeth, 203 armor-piercing shells and 31 high-explosive shells were used. 637 armor-piercing shells and 129 high-explosive shells remain."

Six hundred and thirty-seven shots.

Based on a salvo of eight rounds per round, it can fire seventy-nine rounds. At the maximum rate of fire of 1.5 rounds per minute, it can fire continuously for approximately fifty-three minutes.

If another naval battle of the same intensity as the Queen Elizabeth were to occur, these shells would be just enough.

If there were two more games...

Scher didn't think any further.

"What about the Tirpitz's ammunition report?"

"They used up relatively few rounds, with about 680 armor-piercing rounds remaining."

Scheer nodded. The two ships together had about 1,300 armor-piercing shells remaining. Enough for a large-scale naval battle, and then for a medium-sized one.

The question is, after fighting two naval battles, where can they go?

He temporarily suppressed this question and turned to the navigator:

"Fuel status."

The navigator handed over another form: "The Bismarck has 62% fuel remaining. The Tirpitz has 58% remaining. At the current speed of 28 knots, they can continue sailing for approximately..."

He paused for a moment, his fingers sliding rapidly across the slide rule:

"Approximately fourteen hours."

Fourteen hours.

At a speed of 28 knots, a ship can travel approximately 390 nautical miles in 14 hours. 390 nautical miles is enough to reach south of Iceland, west of Ireland, and anywhere the British fleet cannot reach for the time being. (This is the result of full-speed travel, not under economic conditions.)

But what about fourteen hours later?

Scher didn't ask.

He knew the answer. Fourteen hours later, if they hadn't found supplies or shaken off their pursuers, they would have to drift slowly at an economical speed of fifteen knots. That would allow them to cover twice the distance, but it would also make it easier for their pursuers to catch up.

This is another math problem. Finding a balance between speed and range, finding a way between escape and survival.

"Maintain 28 knots," he said. "We'll make adjustments in four hours, based on the pursuers' positions."

At the chart table, the staff officers began to record the order in the nautical logbook.

8:41 AM.

The Bismarck and Tirpitz sped southwest at a speed of twenty-eight knots.

8:50.

Scheerjan temporarily took over command and went to a relatively quiet corner at the rear of the bridge.

There was a small porthole, less than thirty centimeters in diameter, offering only a glimpse of the sky and a small patch of sea. Several cracks ran through the glass—the result of the earlier shelling. The cracks refracted the sunlight, creating iridescent patterns, like a spiderweb or some strange totem.

Scher stood in front of the window and took a cigarette out of his pocket.

He's not a heavy smoker. He usually smokes a maximum of three cigarettes a day. But today, from four in the morning until now, he's already smoked seven.

The match struck, and the smell of sulfur filled his nostrils. He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, let the smoke linger in his lungs for a few seconds, and then slowly exhaled.

The smoke hit the cracked glass, scattered, and was swept away by the airflow from the vents.

He looked at that small patch of sky and thought of many things.