Chapter 20: The Battle Cruiser Fleet Strikes Out!

Until today, Lelouch had not realized that many aerial reconnaissance spies in this era actually carried the passports of neutral countries.

Since airplanes had only been invented for about ten years, every nation was still experimenting with how to utilize them militarily.

Three months into the Great War, both sides at most maintained some air defense alert at the front lines, while rear border areas had virtually no air defense awareness.

Thus, the Britannians devised a plan to identify among the citizens of neutral countries like the Netherlands those who possessed flying skills and whose political sympathies leaned towards Britannia.

They paid these individuals handsomely to fly into Demania’s airspace and take photographs.

Strategic military locations like Wilhelmshaven naturally became frequent targets of their flights. Simply by capturing which warships remained in port and which had departed, they could fetch a good price.

However, today they were unlucky to encounter Enmaiman, who, having just been advised by Lelouch to carry weapons, gave no chance for the two enemy pilots to return.

Enmaiman cautiously trailed behind the enemy from a side-rear position, gradually closing the distance until the two planes flew almost side by side at nearly the same speed, less than thirty meters apart.

Only then did Enmaiman pull out a box cannon, first handing it to Lelouch, then drawing another for himself, and together they opened fire.

The sharp “pop pop” sounds echoed through the night sky, startling the enemy pilot and the photographer in the rear seat, who immediately took evasive maneuvers.

“Captain! Aim for the front seat pilot! If the pilot dies, the plane will inevitably crash! What good is shooting the photographer?” Lelouch urged anxiously as Enmaiman initially prioritized firing at the rear seat, allowing the enemy plane a chance to turn and escape.

Pilots of this era considered themselves “knights of the sky” and upheld a chivalrous spirit. Enmaiman’s first instinct in firing was to target the spy taking photographs.

Fortunately, Enmaiman realized his mistake and fiercely pressed the attack with a skill that seemed self-taught.

Lelouch fixed his gaze on the enemy pilot slightly ahead and to the side, gripping his Mauser 96 pistol with one hand, mimicking later centuries’ anti-Japanese guerrilla firing techniques by turning the gun sideways and firing rapidly.

The Mauser 96’s tremendous recoil made it difficult to hold steady with one hand, but firing sideways converted the vertical jump into horizontal sway, effectively creating a short-range sweeping fire.

With a rapid burst of a dozen shots, two bullets pierced through the aircraft’s skin and seat, entering the enemy cockpit.

The enemy pilot howled in agony as a bullet passed through the seat, entering his back and exiting his chest, spraying a large spatter of blood onto the plane’s rudder.

The spy in the rear seat panicked, but with no way to switch seats and take control midair, he helplessly watched as the plane lost control, maintaining its course toward the distant sea and plummeting down.

“Fantastic! So this is aerial combat! I’ve shot down the first airplane in human warfare history! When we get back, I’ll report this and give interviews!” Captain Enmaiman was ecstatic, almost dancing in his seat though he was piloting the plane.

Lelouch cautioned, “Don’t be hasty! Do you really want to immediately reveal that ‘our pilots have figured out aerial combat’? Wouldn’t it be better to fully prepare and equip our first batch of planes with machine guns before announcing our success? Announcing too early only gives the enemy time to react.”

Enmaiman felt a bit disappointed but acknowledged the truth in Lelouch’s words. While the empire’s interests were paramount, personal glory and honor mattered too.

Fortunately, Lelouch soon found the right angle to persuade him: “You didn’t shoot down the plane alone anyway. You only aimed at the rear spy, but I killed the pilot. I’m not rushing to claim credit, so why hurry? If you can wait, I’ll honestly report your merits to the Duke and ensure you get a big promotion!”

Enmaiman considered this. Though Lelouch was two years younger, he was highly regarded by the Baria royal family and their generals, so his words carried weight.

Grumbling, Enmaiman agreed, “Alright, but remember to testify for me. What if the navy recovers the wreckage or bodies? How do we explain that?”

Lelouch replied smoothly, “Easy. Just have General Hippel say it was a crashed neutral country plane. Whether the press wants to report it is up to them, and it’s unlikely they’ll find much anyway.”

Enmaiman still hesitated, “But I’m only temporarily seconded to the 6th Army and not from Baria. Does the Duke even have the authority to promote me?”

This question was like a gift to Lelouch, who happily reassured him: “That’s no problem. You can request to transfer officially to the 6th Army. You said you’re from Saxony, right?”

Enmaiman was born in Dresden, a major city in Saxony. Saxony lay between Baria and Prussia, its local customs and beliefs a transitional blend between the two.

Among Germany’s top airmen in World War I, Enmaiman’s background was the most southern Germanic compared to others like Borck and Richthofen, who were typical Prussians.

Moreover, they were all young—born in the 1890s—with Enmaiman born in 1890, Borck in 1891, and Richthofen and Lelouch both in 1892.

Seizing this opportunity, Lelouch successfully recruited another key air force figure into his circle of influence.

Enmaiman nodded in agreement, sealing their tacit understanding.

He understood that Lelouch’s request for patience was to better prepare and achieve a greater feat in the future.

Hence, Enmaiman chose to delay gratification.

Half an hour later, Lelouch, having landed safely, arrived at the Wilhelmshaven attack squadron’s operations room and met with Major General Hippel.

Holding Duke Ruprecht’s personal sealed letter and other credentials, Lelouch passed through without hindrance.

Major General Franz von Hippel, once the Duke’s adjutant in his youth, was always quick to meet anyone sent by the Duke.

Though Hippel was five years older than the Duke at fifty years old, he came from a modest background and, despite the noble “von” in his name, remained only a major general.

Lelouch wasted no time and, after a brief self-introduction, laid out once more the intelligence issues, operational plans, and enemy analyses he had repeatedly rehearsed.

They spoke privately, with Hippel dismissing his aides.

Hippel clearly empathized more deeply than the Duke or Karl.

Several times when Lelouch mentioned that the Britannians had infiltrated their communications department under the guise of the neutral Netherlands, intercepting wired telegrams at signal relay stations or cracking their radio codes, Hippel thumped his thigh in frustration.

“I knew something was wrong! After only three months of war, our Empire’s multiple surprise coastal raids had to be suddenly aborted because the enemy inexplicably bolstered their defenses! So this is the source of the problem!”

Lelouch was surprised by Hippel’s quick acceptance: “You… really believe my theory?”

Hippel replied, “I had my suspicions already. Your explanation just confirmed them, especially since you have the Duke’s sealed letter.”

Lelouch was delighted. “Then you agree with the Duke’s plan to set a trap for the Britannians to verify these suspicions? If the results are good, we can earn military honors, though you’ll have to temporarily bear the blame for insubordination…”

Hippel waved his hand generously, “No problem. I’m used to going against orders. Whenever the Navy Department lets me choose my targets for coastal bombardments and surprise raids, I never strictly follow their demands—I change the time or place. Looking back, it’s lucky I did; otherwise, my men would have been killed by those traitorous fools.”

Hippel’s straightforwardness left Lelouch, who had prepared many persuasive words, somewhat at a loss.

All his prepared speeches were wasted.

After a long pause, Lelouch sighed, “You should be commander of the High Seas Fleet! That foolish old cur Scherr is not worthy.”

Hippel, slightly nervous at the praise, instinctively retorted, “Don’t say that! Vice Admiral Scherr is a respected and thoughtful senior!”

Lelouch quickly backpedaled, feigning youthful impetuosity and offering a token apology.

Yet afterward, he persisted, “I believe rank alone does not determine merit. With years of war ahead, there will be plenty of chances to distinguish ourselves. Though he is a vice admiral and you a major general now, perhaps you will be promoted to admiral faster!”

Hippel laughed and scolded him to stop nonsense but inwardly was pleased—this young man understood him and recognized his abilities.

The two men, feeling an immediate bond, discussed many deployment details.

Lelouch told Hippel about the dawn incident where he and Enmaiman shot down a Britannian reconnaissance plane disguised as neutral.

Hippel immediately dispatched destroyers to search the area where the wooden enemy plane had gone down.

At this time, planes still had wooden frames and fabric coverings, making many lighter than water and capable of floating for some time after crashing into the sea.

While Hippel searched for the wreckage, Lelouch analyzed the symbolic meaning: the Britannians sending planes to scout Wilhelmshaven showed they cared deeply about the harbor’s status, indirectly confirming a major operation was imminent.

He believed there was a seventy to eighty percent chance they planned to bombard the ports of Nieuwpoort and Ostend with their Channel Fleet.

If Hippel dispatched a strong enough force on a long-range raid, he could score a major victory. Even if the enemy didn’t arrive, they could bombard the French forces attacking Nieuwpoort and then retreat swiftly using the battlecruisers’ speed, avoiding prolonged engagement. Either way, it was advantageous.

Hippel nodded with a proud smile. “No problem. I’ve already arranged for two deceptive telegrams you mentioned to be sent immediately. And I’m not afraid to tell you—it’s perfect timing. I was planning a bombardment of the Britannian port of Yarmouth on the east coast in early November, targeting docks, shipyards, and moored fleets.”

“My battlecruiser fleet is fully prepared and ready to sail. I won’t even need to create a special deception plan—I’ll just modify the existing Yarmouth bombardment plan slightly, add some fabricated difficulties, and radio a request for permission.”

“If the enemy intercepts and decrypts my message, even if their fast ships set an ambush from southern Scotland, they won’t venture as far as the Belgian coast and might even stop near Yarmouth.”

Hearing Hippel’s details, Lelouch was overjoyed.

What a fortunate coincidence!

Historically, on November 3, 1914, General Hippel was indeed to lead two battlecruisers and an armored cruiser to bombard Britannian Yarmouth. This would be his third such mission since the war began.

And now it was October 28—only five or six days before the historical bombardment.

Given that fleet departures often involved some deception and did not head straight to the real target, a five or six-day gap was short. Such fleet movements could not be hidden; enemy spies would inevitably notice.

Enemy vigilance was always tight in the first two or three days after a fleet sailed, then gradually relaxed—a phenomenon akin to the “boy who cried wolf,” requiring several repetitions to breed complacency.

Thus, Hippel could use a genuine operation plan to trick the enemy, making all details highly authentic and effective.

Moreover, the fleet’s departure preparations could be minimized. Normally, battlecruiser deployment required days of resupply and maintenance, but now they could sail immediately, as everything was already set for the Yarmouth bombardment. Boilers were even lightly preheated.

After swiftly handling the radio deception, Major General Hippel boarded his flagship, the battlecruiser Derfflinger, ready to set sail.

Before departure, he kindly invited Lelouch, “Will you fly back to the front, or accompany my battlecruiser? If you trust my capabilities, come aboard the Derfflinger. It is the Empire’s most advanced battlecruiser with tough armor and speed sufficient to evade any pursuer.”

After a few seconds’ thought, Lelouch chose the battlecruiser. Even entering battle, it was safer than the fragile planes of this era.

Crucially, the Britannians currently had no dreadnoughts or battlecruisers in the Channel theater.

Their Queen Elizabeth-class battleships had not yet been commissioned, so as long as they avoided the George V class (the 1911 generation, not the later 1940s class) and the Iron Duke class, there was no threat.

Even the Iron Duke was only capable of 21 knots, while the Derfflinger’s 27 knots guaranteed it could outrun any foe.

“Then I gratefully accept your invitation,” Lelouch said.

Lieutenant Lelouch boarded readily, was invited to the bridge command tower by Hippel, and soon the massive warship set sail, cutting through the waves westward with great speed.