The English Channel in April became a boiling sea of ​​1. Three hundred kilograms of shells whistled over and splashed on both sides of the lonely hull of the Ocean. The poor old ship and tenacious British sailors rushed left and right in the barrage, trying to preserve the miracle.

Almost at the same time when the white flag was raised on the main mast of the Evil Revenge, the coquettish Ocean was hit for the first time. Everything was like a tragic epic of fate, and the dust settled like a mess after a grand and gorgeous look...

The USS Ocean battleship, which served in 1900, still retains the eye-catching Victorian Navy paint. In order to demonstrate the momentum and majesty of the world's number one navy, the Royal Navy painted each of their warships with black hulls, the upper edges of the ship were painted with white ribbons, and the superstructure was light yellow.

In 1915, the Victorian paint was still there, but the British Empire was no longer majestic. The Orion, which had just escaped from the shipyard to repair the dock, rarely changed from a light gray with a more concealed appearance to a gorgeous Victorian paint, but was beaten by three submarines with torpedoes. From the majestic 203mm Harvey armor to the 152mm Krupp armor steel plate laid outside the wooden hull by the old man star, it became protective, not the strength of the Royal Navy. However, facing the 305mm capped armor-piercing bullet that could penetrate 9-inch Harvey hardened carburized armor at a distance of 15 kilometers, the proud history of the Ocean in the old era became a complete joke.

The cap of the armor-piercing bomb was attached to the Marine battleship with a standard displacement of 12,950 tons, located on the upper armor belt below the starboard side of the chimney No. 1. The iron armor-piercing part was connected, and the Marine was painted with beautiful white strips and painted with strong inertia.

The battleship's hull shook violently. Through the observation hole of the gun, Adelman Roy, the gunner who was responsible for manipulating the 6-inch secondary gun below the port side of the two chimneys on the port side, clearly saw the armor-piercing bomb hit the side of the Ocean. After the heart-wrenching explosion, thick black smoke twisted into a ball of iron and wood chips sprayed into the sky.

Adelman Roy knew that the Ocean was chiseled through. Next, the young man felt that some huge force made him fly up. He smashed him hard on the 6-inch secondary cannon. Roy only remembered that he fell softly next to the already sunken cannon, struggling to reach out to touch his head, which was vaguely painful, but was surprised to find that his hands were blood red.

When Roy woke up, the young man was shocked to find himself lying on the deck of a small warship, surrounded by German naval military coats, familiar or unfamiliar companions.

Roy's heart began to sink suddenly, and he vaguely guessed something. His fingernails were tightly clamped against the hard deck, trying to find the answer from his companions. * The companions who lost their souls and broke their backbone tightly wrapped the military uniforms distributed by the Germans. They smoked smoked and remained silent, and their turbid eyes tried to dodge Roy's inquiries.

Could it be...

Roy struggled to sit up, covering his head wrapped in a thick layer of bandage, and with a hint of humbleness, Xiyi tried to find some possibility.

This light warship looks less than a thousand tons, without a complete command tower, the command center is located on a bridge that lacks protection, and the deck lacks the choking smell of coal smoke. Tears of humiliation overflow the eyes of the young man. Because Roy clearly saw the iron cross and the black hawk flag fluttering on the main mast at the rear end of the bridge of the light warship! This is clearly a German oil-fired boiler ocean destroyer!

"The Royal Navy cannot fail! The return fleet cannot be destroyed by the entire army so easily!" Roy stood up and shouted at his companion who was sitting on the deck.

“einfi”

en!” In the darkness, the cigarette butts that flickered were thrown down from the sea, and then the sound of pulling the bolts and the sound of German drinking that the British sailors could not understand.

The commotion on the stern deck attracted the searchlight. The powerful searchlight shone, and the dazzling light hit the British sailor's face. Roy's anger, his companion's frustration and shame, was not enough.

"I'm sorry, the young man couldn't accept this fact. He didn't mean it..." The British naval lieutenant hidden among the crowd stood up and stopped the German sailors with nervous expressions. Regardless of whether the German sailors holding the committee's rifle could understand English, he tried his best to explain to the German sailors to avoid any incidents of accidental fire.

The Mediterranean Rescue Fleet is gone, and its belated self-esteem is just a pretentious person. Roy is a little desperate, walking back to his small corner alone, sitting cross-legged on the cold deck, staring at the sky in disgust.

The anger retreated like a tide, and Roy was in a daze and thoughts.

Failure. Complete failure and then captured, deviated from his parents and wives, stayed in the prisoner-of-war camp as missing persons in the Admiralty. Waiting for the end of the European War.

Which day was that day? From the Battle of Helgolan Bay, the Battle of Conerol to the Battle of Dogel Sands, the Battle of Scarglak Strait, the British Empire almost lost its shameless pants. With Heidi Sileme's Ocean Fleet. What should the Royal Navy, which lost another battleship, do you want to deal with it?

On the night of the 29th, the English Channel seemed to be crying for the Mediterranean Rescue Fleet and shed tears for the defeated and captured sailors. At 9 p.m., the sky was invisible, the moonlight could not be seen, and the surroundings were filled with dark ink.*

"The second minute after the starboard side of the Ocean was first shot, we encountered a round of cross-fires. Yes, in just one round of cross-fires, the Ocean sank. Nearly 13,000 tons of warships, 680 officers and soldiers exploded in the underwater ammunition depot... "

Perhaps the rank of the Navy lieutenant played a role, or the Navy lieutenant did not apply for special treatment of prisoners of war officers who inherited the rules of medieval knights. The demeanor of staying with his sailors won the respect of the German sailors, and the matter was calmed down. The Navy lieutenant declined the treatment of prisoners of war officers given by the German destroyer captain, sat down with Roy on his back, took out a little tobacco leaf soaked in his pocket, and put it in his mouth to chew it carefully.

The smell of salty tobacco leaves was really not a compliment. The Navy Lieutenant frowned and sighed heavily.

"The Ocean was the last battleship sunk in the Battle of Portsmouth. The watchtower told me that I was shot on the starboard side, and the location was probably the 6-inch gun well. So I left the command tower and searched the bullet point along the second-level deck on the right. In the end, I found that it was just a false alarm. The armor-piercing bomb that blew the boiler bay was not enough to pose a fatal threat to the Ocean, so I stayed on the deck for the command and rescue. I will take you from

The sunken cannon was dragged out from the sank and sent you to the medical cabin. At this time, the damn cross-fire came. The 12-inch cannon on the bow was lit up. The fire spread along the artillery well and the underwater ammunition depot, so the bow of the Ocean was torn apart by the tension of the explosion. You and I were thrown out of the sea, and we were lucky to not be involved in the whirlpool of the Ocean. I grabbed you with one hand and held a wooden board that might have collapsed from the lifeboat in the other hand, waiting for rescue."

"Lieutenant, stop talking..." Roy, who was walking on the brink of collapse, didn't have the patience to listen to the memories of the Navy's lieutenant. He turned his bandaged head and asked politely. "I just want to know if there is still hope for the Royal Navy?"

Joined the Navy at the age of ten. In 1897, he received training on the Great Britain and then participated in the Boer War. After the outbreak of the European War, he became the captain of the destroyer. After the Battle of Jutland, he was transferred to the Mediterranean. The lieutenant of the British-French joint landing fleet had a heavy loss. His cleft lips trembled. He wanted to say something that was enough to soothe people, but he could not convince himself to lie anyway, so he had to stammer. A few bytes of ambiguity were sent out in the Adam's apple.

It was the Germans who rescued the Navy Lieutenant. Under the night, the German destroyer collided with a powerful main fleet. In the ink-like night, the fleet strictly implemented light control, but the Navy Lieutenant could vaguely distinguish the model of the nearest large battleship - the Nassau-class battleship.

It's the Ocean Fleet!

The prisoners of war became even more silent. The destroyer continued to advance and slowly leaned on a transport ship with a displacement of more than 8,000 tons.

"John Bulls, please line up and transfer to that transport ship..." A naval colonel carrying a G98 Mauser rifle and wearing a navy cap walked towards the transport ship, tightening his armed belt and gracefully.

In the early 18th century, a Scottish writer named John Abathnot published a political satirical novel to satirize the war policy of the Whigs, the predecessor of the Liberal Party, and the book was called "The History of John Abathnot". Because the image of John Abathnot's writings was so deeply rooted in people's hearts that John Abathnot became synonymous with the British.

The John Bull originated from political satire. Now in the mouth of German Navy Lieutenant Colonel, the John Bull is still a satire.

The British sailors with low fighting spirit lined up and climbed the spiral ladder of the transport ship under the muzzle of the German sailor who was part-time Marine. When the navy lieutenant was about to board the first gangway of the transport ship, he heard a conversation.

"Ltd. Colonel Lauren, in November 1914, I thought landing in Britain would be the last madness of the Ocean Fleet. But I didn't think that was just the beginning of the legend!" The captain of the German destroyer who rushed over to serve the handover saluted the lieutenant colonel who was dressed in a naval style, but from appearance to temperament, it was more like an army's lieutenant colonel.

The British Navy Lieutenant does not understand German, but the name Lauren does not misunderstand it. It is obvious that this is Major Lauren who led a small team to land in the port of Lostoft, the British Empire, causing casualties in the British Empire. Half a year has passed. German naval talents have emerged like a blowout. In addition to the gradually withering German strategic masters and the three musketeers of the Kiel Sea School, the king of submarines, Vedigen, the purple baron Hanna Shaw, the tragic Gunther Lütjens who became famous in the Mediterranean, and Lauren, who had been promoted to become a naval lieutenant colonel, are all new generation leaders. It is said that a submarine commander named Karl Denitz did a good job in the Mediterranean. The veterans did not die, and the newcomers have also grown up. Due to continuous failures and high-level changes, talent loss and faults inevitably occurred in Britain.

Shaking his head, the Navy Lieutenant who was walking forward with a heavy heart accidentally knocked Roy's heel on his forehead. Roy, who had lost his sea soul, seemed not aware of all this, and climbed the gangway barely. The Navy Lieutenant spitted out the tobacco leaves in his mouth and smiled a little desperately and dismal.

The young man Roy's fragile psychology finally collapsed. Despite his grief and anger and unwillingness, his chest of seventeen or eighteen years old could not bear the blow of two consecutive failures. The young man who had just loudly encouraged his companion had no perseverance to become a lonely fighter, a desperate sober, and closed his thoughts in a self-hypnotic way.

"Mr. Belfort, the broken fleet can be rebuilt, but can the self-esteem and morale lost due to successive losses be easily rebuilt?"

In the darkness, the sober is the most cruel, and the hypnotic self is lost in the mind, just like sweet wine. In the face of Satan's temptation, even the naval lieutenant who looks peaceful and tenacious on the outside is shaken.

The navy lieutenant walked onto the deck, and at this time, many captured British sailors were already surrounded by the deck of the transport ship.

"Andrew Cunningham!"

Someone seemed to be calling his name behind him. Navy Lieutenant Andrew Cunningham turned around in confusion, and then was surprised to find that he was his lifelong best friend, Lieutenant John Tovey, Deputy Navigator of the Prince of Wales, and Lieutenant James Somerville, the Majestic Radio Officer.

"Towei, Somerville, hey, you're still alive!" Lieutenant Andrew Cunningham quickly met and sent trembling fists to his lifelong friends who met the USS Britain training ship in 1898.

"Maybe until the day when Mr. Churchill, who commanded the ridiculous Scottish rifle battalion, was killed in the rear of the French battlefield, was unfortunately killed, and I, John Tovey, still could not die." Lieutenant John Tovey, who served as deputy navigator on the battleship of Prince of Wales, recalled the defeated Battle of Portsmouth, and was somewhat desolate.

"The Battle of Scarglake Strait, the 11th Destroyer Detachment blocked the entire seventeen main battleships of the Ocean Fleet at the cost of death, and you and Tovey survived; the Battle of Mudros Bay, the United Kingdom-French Landing Fleet suffered heavy losses, and I can survive..." James Somerville still retained a little bit of the youthfulness of a big boy in the military academy, with a little shyness, and continued the British-Torvey British-style cold humor. "The Battle of Portsmouth, the Mediterranean Rescue Fleet was destroyed, and we still survive. Haha, it seems that even God is reluctant to end our friendship!"

Although John Tovey and James Somerville were laughing, the pain came to his face. Andrew Cunningham tried to change the subject and asked casually:

"What, the Germans, whose winner is king, are not even willing to give alms to the special treatment that prisoners of war officers should have?"

"Alms?!" John Tovey glanced at the transport bridge and snorted coldly: "If that matter is true, maybe we all have to die in this sea of ​​death!"
Chapter completed!