Chapter 17: The Peak Battle (4)

When the Seventh Team left the team and launched a death charge on the Grand Fleet, the Grand Fleet turned its guns without hesitation to concentrate on fire at the lonely German swordsman. Two opponents who were not at the same level fought for thirteen minutes, from 1,000 yards to 1,000 yards. The Grand Fleet had only one record of being shot by the Iron Duke, and the Seventh Team had already been hit by twenty-two large-caliber armor-piercing bombs from the British.

The King-class battleship's five 350mm main guns [1] adopt a front two and rear two layout, with a back-mounted structure, and two raised turrets. The ** turret is located in the middle. Since the Seventh Team was not in sufficient steering angle when they started the charge, the Dora, Caesar and Emile turrets at the stern were insufficient in the rear firing range, so there was no chance to fire. Five main guns were used to deal with the target ship 1,000 yards away. The hit probability can be imagined. The Seventh Team finally corrected the course of the sprint charge, and the five main turrets could be fully fired. However, the smoke wall brought by the continuous fire of Anton and Bruno turrets greatly interfered with the work of the rangefinder. The King-level trembling hull, which brought the ultimate speed potential, also affected the aim of the main gun, so the Seventh Team's hit record remained in a terrible shot.

In the era of the Dreadnought, the sinking of a main battleship cannot be separated from two situations: either the ammunition depot was destroyed or the hull was too much water. Hippel was confident that the 15-inch and 13.5-inch main guns equipped by the British super Dreadnought, and the 12-inch main gun equipped by the Dreadnought cannot penetrate the side waterline with a thickness of up to 350 mm with Knuber hardened carburized armor; the front armor of the turret with a thickness of up to 350 mm, the 350 mm gun seat and ammunition conveyor armor make the King-class within 9 kilometers.

There is no chance of ammunition depots dying within the outside range. However, in order to allow the King-class to float on the sea, the 350mm anti-aircraft thickness obviously cannot cover the entire warship. The King-class's relatively weak 80mm bow and aft armor, the 200mm upper armor belt and 180mm underwater armor are Achilles' ankles. Once it is continuously penetrated, the hull is too influx and the decreasing speed are superimposed, Hippel does not think that the King-class can still support it.

"The more cruel death charge than Dogel Shazhou's terror, can't hold on to it?"

Admiral Hippel stood on the King's bridge with his hands behind his back, unconsciously recalling the cruel Dogel Sandal Battle in November 1914. Obviously, the situation facing Hippel is worse than that of Dogel Sandal Battle. The opponents of the two battle patrols of the Silem Fleet and one quasi-war patrol were just eight British main battleships. Sippel also had the cover of night and strong support of the Ocean Fleet. In the North Sea decisive battle in March 1915, the Seventh Team faced the thirteen main battleships of the Royal Navy. At this time, the First Reconnaissance Fleet was too busy to take care of itself, and the Ocean Fleet was still ranking and formation, and there was still some time before the battle line was formed.

"Who can I still expect...?" Frustration flashed across Hippel's face, and when Hippel raised his head again, the admiral's eyes were full of fortitude.

Although there is no detailed data on the German King-class battleship at hand, the general can still see some clues from the excellent survival performance of the German battleship in the Dogersan naval battle. Regarding the unreasonable protective power of the German warships, Jelico, commander-in-chief of the Fleet, thought he had been fully prepared. However, after thirteen minutes of concentrated fire, the fact that the German Seventh Team was still standing stubbornly on the sea slapped him.

The commander-in-chief of the Fleet barely maintained his reserve as a British gentleman and a navy man in the world's largest naval power. He grabbed the telephone and microphone and said to the firepower command tower of the Iron Duke. Feng Qingyun was calm and arrogant.

"Heroic Royal Navy officers and soldiers, tell me why the Germans are still floating on the sea?"

Give up shelling the ocean fleet at a long distance and concentrate firepower on the Seventh Team that takes risks and suddenly attracts firepower, Jeliko's choice is quite pragmatic: no matter how the large fleet delays time, it is still only a matter of time before the Ocean Fleet launches battle lines. The only thing worth discussing is what kind of results the large fleet can achieve in aimless artillery attacks. If the large fleet is concentrated on the seventh Team with the strongest strength in the Ocean Fleet, and strive to annihilate or severely damage the prey that comes to the door in a short period of time, then the large fleet can undoubtedly gain more advantages in the upcoming battle line decisive battle.

Jelico's plan is reasonable, but he underestimated the survival ability of the German warships, underestimated the difficulty of fire control of one more shot, and overestimated the British Empire naval guns that fused. After thirteen minutes of concentrated fire, the British had the advantage, but the Seventh Team was still standing on the ocean.

As time goes by, the observation conditions of the large fleet become worse and the accuracy of the artillery has also decreased. Although the scene of the firepower on the side of the large fleet occupying the t-shaped horizontal head is quite shocking, the thick smoke generated by the high-speed operation of the coal-fired boiler and the smoke generated by the combustion of the muzzle fired medicine is enough to cover the sky and the sun, making the watchtower and rangefinder sailors jump and curse. Forcibly gathering a battleship with a whole squadron can certainly increase the probability of hitting, but when more than 30 artillery shells of three to four battleships splashed near the target ship, errors in fire control allocation are almost inevitable. How to judge the landing point of the ship's shells from the boiling ocean and the forest-like water column and correct the artillery angle is enough to make the rangefinder observer pull his hair away.

The combat distance is not proportional to the hit rate, which has annoyed General Jelico, who was a gunsmithed. When the Fifth and Sixth Teams used to disrupt and delay the formation of the Ocean Fleet and put into battle reported to him that they had hit the German Ocean Fleet in succession, Admiral Jelico's mood finally broke out.

"Everyone cheered me up, and while you can still see it, fired at all targets and knocked down the damn Seventh Team to me!"

The flames and smoke columns soaring into the sky at the King's headquarters gradually dimmed, and the miserable situation was exposed to the messy soldiers of the tragedy: the flying bridge connecting the chimney No. 1 and chimney No. 2 collapsed, and the remaining small part was twisted into a spiral at a strange angle. The crane and lifeboat were blown out of the sea, and only a small piece of crooked crane arm was left. The chart room disappeared directly, and tons of data were either transformed into ashes in the sea of ​​fire or turned into flying paper scraps. The telegraph room was cut off a corner, and a shrapnel broke the wireless antenna above the commander's tower. The Seventh Team temporarily lost contact with the main force of the large fleet. The soldiers and communication soldiers had to urgently repair the wireless antenna with the threat of British shells.

The bulky armor-piercing bullets bounced open by the armored wall of the Dora turret transmitter caused secondary damage to the King. The shell destroyed the contact door of the watertight compartment less than 40 mm, penetrated the thin contact passage floor, and exploded in the dry compartment with the Dora turret launch medicine storage room. Even if the electrical spray fire equipment was opened urgently, the air-like mist was densely spread on the fire, and the fire caused by picric acid and the light yellow poison gas were still circulating. It quickly broke through the chiseled hole and swept through the two watertight compartments and contact passages.

The sound of messy footsteps came from the end of the contact passage. Captain Hardy, the captain of the King's loss control team, hurriedly put on a gas mask, grabbed the fire water dragon, led a group of subordinates to the fire scene without hesitation. The electrical watertight door near the fire scene was locked, and the contact door of the contact passage was also closed heavily, the water pump was opened, and water was poured into the watertight compartment. The loss guards holding the watertight dragon slowly advanced towards the center of the fire scene. Ten minutes later, the fire was gradually suppressed. If there was no accident, the loss guard team could clear the source of the fire within ten minutes.

The exhausted captain of the trauma finally took a moment of rest and took off the clingy gas mask. The face that was blackened by thick smoke had just revealed its head, and then the printing was dyed with the color of fire. The middle-aged captain of the trauma took off his wet top, squeezed out a pool of water stains, and leaned against the contact door and gasped heavily. At this time, Colonel Morning, the deputy captain of the King, unbuttoned the lock of the contact door, and after a hasty military salute, a not-so-great news was spread.

"Captain, the second-level deck of the port side of the King's unit was shot, and at least ten well-trained trauma soldiers were needed!"

At 7:36, the King-class battleship was shot again. A 15-inch armor-piercing projectile that could not be judged by itself was tilted to the second-class deck of the King's unit. Since the King's main turret adopts a back-type structure and the lifting of the two turrets caused the hull to rise, the fourteen King-class single-mounted 150mm secondary guns and ten 88mm secondary guns were placed on the second-class deck that was very easy to shoot on the upper waves. The unstable British 15-inch armor-piercing projectile penetrated a 150mm secondary gun with limited defense from the diagonal, and exploded outside the armor wall connecting the first-class deck and the second-class deck.

The air waves generated by the explosion overturned the secondary cannon that had twisted into a ball, leaving only a lonely rotating platform. The bulky cannon rolled on the deck for several times, and countless sparks were rubbing against the deck and making a harsh creaking sound. It was not until it hit another 150mm secondary cannon that it barely stopped. At this time, the second-level deck on the port side of the King had become a hell on earth. Large pieces of armor-piercing shell fragments and iron stripped from the rolling secondary cannon were flying on the secondary deck at a speed invisible to the naked eye, bringing balls of blood after ball of blood on the unexpected sailor. The smell of blood was strong, and the black smoke and the fire did not stop. It soon occupied this corner and spread to both sides.

"Where can I find ten loss-managers?!" The powerless team leader Hardy could hardly raise his heavy arms to salute his boss Mo Ning. He smiled bitterly and barely stretched out five fingers.

The British fire was quite fierce. Although the hit rate was not high, there was a lot of missing bullets. The waterline on the stern side of the ship was blocked after being shot, the fire extinguishing of the flybridge and repairing the wireless telegraph antenna, and the fire extinguishing of the Dora turret involved most of the energy of the damaging team. Hardy's damaging team was like a high-speed rotating top, driven by the British shells, and the ship ran wildly. Hardy could not draw out ten damaging soldiers.

"Five people are enough!" Pipe damage is a compulsory course for naval officers and soldiers. Mo Ning drew the gunner of the 150-device gun on the starboard side into the temporary pipe damage team. He had just folded back from the watertight compartment that was shot in the stern waterline and did not have time to breathe a sigh of relief. He led his subordinates to the second-level deck splashing with water columns and whistling shrapnel like a whirlwind.

On the second-level deck, the medics were doing the simplest treatment for the sailors who were wailing in pain on the deck. The sailors and gunners who had room to save were carried onto stretchers. The dead sailors were covered with a plain white shroud, while the sailors who had lost their treatment were given a shot of morphine that meant death by the medics with red eyes.

The tragic situation on the deck made the temporary damaging team feel sad. The young man dragged heavy fire hose and water pump to bypass the busy medical soldiers to the fire. The British pico acid charge shells were not stable, and they were blown up in the near and early, but there was always another side of the coins. The fire burning dying hot fire was not easy to extinguish. The damaging soldiers had to endure flames and high temperatures and approached the fire with fire hose step by step. At this time, a 15-inch armor-piercing bomb exploded ten meters away from the port side of the second-level deck. The shells penetrated the surface of the seawater and exploded. The stormy white water column was almost flush with the watchtower of the King's main mast. When tons of sea water reached the peak and lost kinetic energy, the small second-level deck could no longer be spared.

After the deafening noise, the blood on the deck, the deputy captain Mo Ning, the temporary damaging team, the medical soldiers who had no time to carry back the rescue cabin and the deceased wrapped in the shroud disappeared. The dust, survival and death were washed away, but the fire caused by the picoric acid continued.

"Commander Tower, the British may have fired cross-fires, and the landing points of this round of shells almost covered us! I saw an armor-piercing shell concentrated on the Anton turret, but fortunately our Anton was strong enough!"

There is no need to remind the watchtower that through the observation port of the bridge, Hippel saw a scene that was even more thrilling than any novelist's most cruel pen tip. Hippel had no room for gratitude. Whether it was the British who used their own strength to exert the speed of fire and then formed the illusion of cross-fire, or a British ship who used its own strength to launch a real cross-fire, the number of shots instantly increased to six rounds of the King's next fate would not be too wonderful.

"Deputy Commander, the situation is very bad..." The commander of the 7th team, Bihanik, the commander of the 7th team, looked carefully at General Hippel, who was frowning, and hesitated to express his suggestions: "We are only 13 kilometers away from the Great Fleet, which is too close. Maybe we should turn around..."

"No, it's not time yet, at least we have to wait until the Ocean Fleet battle line takes shape!" Hippel shook his head and coldly rejected Major General Bihanik.

There was another tremor from the soles of his feet. There was no doubt that the number of shots of the King increased to eight. Little Bihanik's fair cheeks twitched, and blood-red gradually appeared in his eyes. "But before that, the Seventh Team will sink!"

"But Germany will win!" Little Bihanik's shout made Hippel's firm heart tremble inexplicably. The deputy commander turned his head and looked at Little Bihanik carefully. However, Little Bihanik's bright and clean eyes had no intention of being a timid person. All he had was heartbroken as the commander of the fleet. Xipper was silent for a moment, and his calloused hands unconsciously touched the cigarette in his pocket.

With a bang, the cigarette was lit. Hippel took a deep breath of smoke greedily and said lightly: "Some things must be done by someone!"

The bridge disappeared for a few seconds until the watchman's chattering and noise broke the strange silence. During the fierce battle, the watchman who was responsible for observing his shot was always an unpopular character. Hippel subconsciously frowned, because it was only ten seconds before the last shot.

"Oh, God, am I dazzled..."

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Chapter completed!