This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

"Our interceptor fleet," the officer paused, as if trying to find some positive news, "although we failed to effectively intercept the enemy's first wave of bombing, it's not too late to make amends. The heretics' first round of bombing mission had not yet been fully completed when our interceptor fleet arrived and disrupted their formation, forcing them to end part of their attack prematurely. Based on the current battle situation, the heretics' primary target seems to be our battleships, followed by oil and ammunition depots, and then the anti-submarine facilities outside the port—"

Neos waved his hand, interrupting the officer's report. Rage boiled within him, but he knew now was not the time to vent his anger; he had to cut his losses immediately. He asked, "The heretic submarine has entered the harbor, hasn't it?"

"Yes, Saint. A breach was blown in the harbor's anti-submarine network," the officer replied. "One of our destroyers has temporarily blocked the breach by running aground. But before that, at least two heretical submarines successfully infiltrated the harbor and sank two of our cruisers that were about to embark on an emergency voyage.

However, one of the submarines was trapped in a corner of the harbor by our swift-reacting escort ships and was confirmed sunk. The other submarine, in its hasty escape to the open sea, happened to be stuck on the main route of the battleship HMS Warspite's emergency exit from the harbor. As a result—

The Warspite ran over it from head to toe, turning it into a pile of metal."

"Is the Warspite okay?" Neos asked immediately. This meritorious warship was now one of the few trump cards in their hands.

"Please rest assured, Saint." A look of relief finally appeared on the officer's face. "The Warspite's fully loaded displacement is a staggering 35,000 tons, while that heretic submarine only displaces 2,700 tons. If it weren't for the slight jolt the ship caused when it passed over the submarine, the crew wouldn't have noticed they had just crushed a heretic submarine."

Tribute to the legendary 10,000-ton king, War-weariness.jpg

"Huh..." Neos breathed a sigh of relief. This was a rare piece of good news amidst all the bad news.

"Once the battle is over, immediately organize a salvage operation for the wreckage of the crushed submarine. In that state, the submarine definitely wouldn't have had enough time to destroy the codebook and encrypted communications equipment inside. Perhaps—we could put them to good use."

He rubbed his aching forehead and sighed, "Now that the first round of bombing is basically over, the most important thing now is to quickly organize a rescue operation and search for the sailors who fell into the water and were injured. Every experienced sailor is invaluable."

"Saints," the official's expression grew serious again. "I'm afraid it's not over yet. According to the latest battle reports, a naval formation consisting of at least five heretic battleships is currently off the coast of Portsmouth, continuously bombarding our port facilities.

Currently, the battlecruisers HMS Renown and HMS Repulse, as well as the recently departed HMS Warspite, and several brave destroyers and cruisers are engaged in a fierce battle with the enemy fleet in the open sea."

"what?!"

Neos suddenly raised his head and rushed to the huge European nautical chart hanging on the wall, his eyes scanning the English Channel area.

"You mean," Neos' voice was filled with a hint of disbelief, but more of the excitement of a hunter finding his prey.

"The heretics have a large surface fleet, and now we're trapped in the narrow English Channel? Moreover, according to previous intelligence, their fleet lacks effective long-range fighters to provide air protection.

If we can close in on them from both ends of the strait, they'll be trapped, can't they?"

"That's right, Saint! This is our last chance to recover our losses—" The European Association official also quickly walked to the map and used a red marker to point out the specific fleet deployment and planned attack route for Neos on the map.

"According to the Supreme Command's emergency operational plan, the French main fleet is urgently dispatching from the port of Brest, forming the first encirclement of the heretic fleet from the southwest of the Channel. Simultaneously, the English mobile fortress and the main fleet of the Holy Roman Empire Navy have received orders to strategically encircle the heretic fleet from the north and east of the Channel, completely blocking their retreat—"

The official's tone was filled with a hint of urgency and worry. "But all of this has a prerequisite: we must hold off this heretic fleet long enough, and our reinforcement fleet will also need to break through the numerous blockades formed by heretic submarines along the way. According to the most optimistic estimate, it will take at least a day and a half for our main fleet to reach the intended encirclement position."

Unless we can find a way to stop the enemy fleet—no, Saint, even if it's just to slow them down for a few hours, it's crucial!"

Neos reached out and pulled the string above the map, adjusting the display area on the strategic map. His eyes focused on all the marked friendly airfields along the English Channel. He picked up the rangefinder on the table and quickly measured the straight-line distance from each airport to the key sea area on the map.

"How many tactical bombers and torpedo planes do we have available along the French and British coasts? What about them?" Neos asked gravely. "We can't pin all our hopes on the Warspite and those cruisers and destroyers. They can't hold off five heretic battleships head-on for a full day and a half."

A trace of helplessness appeared on the official's face: "Saint, most of our tactical bomber units deployed in Western Europe have been urgently transferred to the front line of the Papal States to prevent the heretic armored forces from attacking Rome.

As for the torpedo planes—most of the torpedo planes we currently have available in the Channel are deployed aboard the aircraft carrier Argus, which is currently operating with the French Navy's support fleet, rushing in from the Atlantic. Additionally, we have three escort carriers urgently entering the English Channel from the St. George's Channel west of the mainland, but their speed is quite slow, and I'm afraid they won't be able to reach the battlefield anytime soon.

Neos stared at the map and tapped his finger on the locations of several airports near the strait and the aircraft carriers.

"Then, take off the fighter plane."

----------

Off Portsmouth Harbour

The lead-gray waves rolled endlessly, and the sky was dyed an unsettling dark red by the thick smoke rising from the harbor.

The battleship HMS Warspite, the battlecruisers HMS Renown and HMS Repulse, and several assembled destroyers and light cruisers formed a tragic and resolute line of defense. Ahead of them, a massive fleet of at least five Heretic battleships and their escorts approached with an ominous aura.

"Attention everyone! The enemy's main fleet has been spotted to the right of the fleet! Distance: 28,000 yards, heading directly towards us!"

The lookout on the flagship Warspite shouted loudly, the sound distorted by the sea breeze.

Inside the bridge of the Warspite, the fleet commander, Vice Admiral Sir Phillips, had a gloomy expression.

"Order all ships! Prepare for battle!" His voice was transmitted to every corner through the ship's communication system. "Hoist the battle flag! Prepare for the impact!"

Commodore John Cunningham, the captain of the Renown, gripped his telescope tightly. "Right rudder fifteen! Course zero-nine-zero! We must seize a favorable position!" He ordered, "Gunnery officer, target the enemy flagship, half-salvo!"

Captain William Tennant, captain of the Repulse, also commanded calmly: "Attention, all turrets! Target the second battleship in the enemy fleet! Follow my command, concentrate fire! Engine room, maximum speed! We must use speed to pull their line!"

Thicker black smoke spewed out of the chimneys of the three battleships, and their huge steel bodies drew three clear tracks on the sea. The destroyers and cruisers following behind them spread out to protect the flanks and launch attacks.

The Royal Navy's white battle flag with a red cross fluttered at the top of the flagship's mainmast, silently demonstrating its will to fight to the death.

"Twenty-six thousand yards!"

"Gunnery Chief! Aim 0-8-5, distance 26,000! Target the enemy's leading battleship! Test fire!" Lieutenant General Phillips ordered.

"Main turrets No. 1 and No. 2, target the enemy ship right in front! Ready - fire!" the artillery officer roared, and then the two twin-mounted 15-inch guns let out a deafening roar, and four armor-piercing shells weighing nearly one ton whizzed towards the heretic fleet in the distance.

"boom!"

Almost simultaneously, the heretic fleet began to retaliate. The main guns of the five battleships opened fire one after another, and a dense hail of bullets covered the thin formation of the Royal Navy!

"BOOM! BOOM!" Columns of water exploded on the sea, reaching tens of meters high. The seawater stirred up by the near miss bombs slammed into the deck of the Warspite. The shockwave of one of the near miss bombs shook the entire battleship.

"Three hundred yards to the right! Distance correction!" The artillery observer struggled to identify the impact point in the smoke and steam.

"All main turrets, target unchanged! Salvo fire!"

Commodore Charles Morgan, the captain of the HMS Warspite, roared. He knew the value of his meritorious ship. As the core of the fleet, it must withstand the most violent attacks and also launch the most accurate counterattacks!

"boom--!"

The eight 15-inch main guns roared again, their shells tearing through the air and striking their targets. A massive fireball rose from the bow of the leading heretic battleship, and thick smoke billowed.

"Hit! Hit! The bow of the enemy ship was hit!" the lookout shouted excitedly.

"Keep shooting! Don't give them a chance to breathe!" ordered Brigadier General Morgan.

Leveraging their battlecruisers' superior speed, Renown and Repulse carved two arcs across the sea, attempting to flank the heretic fleet. Their 15-inch main guns unleashed a furious barrage on their chosen targets. However, the heretic fleet's numerical superiority was immediately apparent. They dispatched two battleships to counter the harassment of the two battlecruisers, while the remaining three focused their firepower on suppressing the Warspite.

The fleet commander wanted to bring the heretic fleet into range of the shore artillery.

"Damn it! They won't fall for it. They know the range of our shore artillery!"

Shells rained down on the Warspite like hail, and the thick armor groaned in pain under each violent impact. A 16-inch shell hit the No. 2 turret, sparks flying, and the turret's rotating mechanism made a sharp grinding sound, but the sailors inside the turret, under the command of the officer, quickly inspected the damage and shouted to continue reloading.

The Warspite's machine spirit was also protecting this battle-hardened ship, and its key systems were still operating tenaciously despite the attack.

"Ohm Messiah! Keep fighting!"

"Damage control team! The exterior of the No. 2 turret is damaged, check the hydraulic system!" On the bridge, the damage control officer shouted orders, and the well-trained damage control team members wore gas masks and rushed to the damaged area, braving the possibility of another artillery attack at any time.

At the same time, the destroyer and cruiser formations of both sides had already come into close combat, and even more brutal and chaotic close-range fighting unfolded in the gaps between the battleships.

The Royal Navy's destroyer HMS Cossack took the lead, its captain, Lieutenant Commander Philip Vian, waving his arms: "Attention, all guns! Target the enemy destroyer lead ship! Open fire! Torpedo crews, take note, prepare for a close-range salvo!"

The Cossack's 4.7-inch guns spewed flames at full speed, their shells tearing at the heretic destroyer's superstructure at extremely close range. The heretic destroyer, undeterred, responded with a barrage of fire. Shells from both sides clashed, explosions echoed, and balls of fire mixed with steel fragments rose from the sea.

"The enemy ship was hit on the starboard side! Near the waterline!"

"Our port torpedo tube has been destroyed!"

"Fire brigade! Put out that damn fire!"

Led by the Cossack, several British destroyers, like a pack of angry hounds, viciously pounced on the heretic fleet's escort formation. Their goal was clear: to sacrifice themselves, to use torpedoes to disrupt the heretic fleet's formation—or perhaps to create an opportunity for the friendly forces to achieve a miracle with a small force.

The heretics' destroyers were equally outnumbered, and they quickly formed a crossfire, attempting to tear these daring English destroyers into shreds. In the melee, the C-class destroyer Comet was hit by multiple shells simultaneously, its bridge collapsed and a raging fire ignited. It quickly lost speed, right? Hissing chess, Siwu R, Lu Yueyi lost speed.

"The Comet has sent a signal! They will fight to the last moment!" the signalman reported.

"Tell them that England appreciates their bravery!" Lieutenant Colonel Vian's eyes also turned red, but he had no time to be sad.

"Full left rudder! Avoid torpedo!" A heretic destroyer cunningly released a torpedo.

"Open fire! Use all weapons that can fire! Suppress them!" The captain of another English destroyer, the Ardent, roared on the radio.

〦镹【０熘司VuII?粜尔０吧“Bang bang bang!!!”

Due to the extremely close proximity, the artillery battle between the two sides reached a fever pitch. The English gunners displayed an astonishing tenacity and a fearless spirit. While their main guns continued to fire, they manned the ship's Oerlikon 20mm anti-aircraft guns and Vickers heavy machine guns, frantically strafing the deck and bridge of the opposing heretic destroyer!

“Da da da——” “Die, heretic!!”

Orange-red tracer bullets flew between the two ships. A young English anti-aircraft gunner, half torn open by shrapnel and his gun mount stained red with blood, still held down the firing pedal firmly until the last bullet was fired, then he lowered his head helplessly.

"Heretic, fuck your mother! Aaaaaah!!!"

Next to him, a sailor pushed him off his seat and sat on the anti-aircraft gun mount stained with the blood and flesh of his predecessors, roaring and firing at the heretic soldiers who rushed onto the deck of the heretic destroyer and tried to operate the torpedo tubes.

"Torpedo! Torpedo track detected on the starboard side!" screamed the lookout on the Renown.

Several deadly torpedoes were heading straight for the Renown. Captain Commodore Cunningham decisively ordered: "Full starboard rudder! Evade!"

The massive battlecruiser twisted its body with all its might on the sea, and two torpedoes narrowly missed the stern. But the third torpedo accurately hit the middle of the Renown!

"boom--!"

A dull roar echoed from underwater, followed by a violent tremor. The Renown's hull suddenly stopped, a massive gash opened below the waterline on the port side, and surging seawater rushed in frantically.

"Water is entering the No. 3 and No. 4 boiler rooms on the port side! The power loss is 30%!" The chief engineer reported through the emergency communication channel, his voice full of anxiety.

"Damage Control Team! Seal the breach immediately! Start the backup water pump!" Brigadier General Cunningham forced himself to remain calm, but the cold sweat on his forehead revealed his inner tension. "Keep firing, turret! We're not done yet!"

The Repulse fared better, having successfully avoided the torpedo attack, but was also hit several times by the Heretic battleship's main guns, causing fires in several parts of its superstructure. Braving the thick smoke and the danger of explosions, the sailors on board dragged fire hoses across the tilted deck, trying to put out the fire.

"The word 'surrender' does not exist in the Royal Navy's dictionary!!"

Brigadier General Tennant looked at the Warspite, which was still fighting tenaciously in the distance, the scarred Renown, and the destroyers on his side that were constantly sinking in the enemy formation, leaving long trails of black smoke, and roared,

"All gun positions! Target enemy cruiser number 3! Destroy them! Avenge our battle brothers!"

The naval battle had entered its most brutal phase. Though outnumbered, the English fleet, from battleships to destroyers, shed its blood and lives to fulfill the ancient oath that "England expects all men to do their duty." The roar of cannons, the clatter of explosions, the piercing sound of twisting and snapping metal, and the shouts and commands of the sailors all blended together.

The Warspite remained the heretic fleet's primary target. Heavy shell after heavy shell rained down upon her, some even scoring direct hits. Her funnel was ripped in half, her foredeck a shambles, and her No. 2 turret destroyed, but the remaining three main turrets continued to spin, aim, and fire. The barrels grew scorching from the constant firing, and each shot was accompanied by a teeth-grinding metallic grinding sound, yet the shells continued to roar towards the enemy.

Vice Admiral Phillips stood in the bridge command tower with shattered glass. The sea breeze mixed with smoke and the smell of blood rushed in, choking him and making him cough uncontrollably.

He knew the fleet was under incredible pressure, with casualties mounting. But he knew even more clearly that they couldn't retreat. Behind them lay the precarious English mainland. They had to shed their last drop of blood here to buy even a minute more time for subsequent strategic deployments.

"Signalman!" The Vice Admiral's voice was hoarse but firm, "Signal all ships and raise the battle flag:

'England expects everyone to do his duty!'

Battle signal flags rose in the smoke, conveying unyielding orders and beliefs to every Royal Navy ship still fighting on the sea.

The remaining English warships responded to the flagship's call with even fiercer fire. Even though their hulls were battered and their shells were almost gone, their will to fight burned even more vigorously in the desperate situation.

On the sea, debris and flames were intertwined, but the Royal Navy's battle flag was still flying unyieldingly.

Finally, the sound of bomber engines could be heard from the horizon.

PS: 260 votes, next update 4.5k...

Crimson Tide: 1921: Chapter 87: Charge! Charge!

French support fleet aircraft carrier Argus

At this moment, a rage strong enough to burn hell gathered on this deck.

All officers and men, except those required to maintain the ship's navigation, were lined up neatly on the flight deck. Captain Harold Balfour stood on a platform modified outside the port side of the hull—the only way to facilitate deck operations since there was no island. His voice was carried across the deck via a loudspeaker.

"Warriors of the European Union!" Captain Balfour's voice was loud and powerful, "Just a few hours ago, we received bad news from England!

"Those heretical bastards, those traitors who have forsaken God and humanity, bombed Plymouth and Portsmouth in the most despicable sneak attack! Our compatriots are weeping in the burning harbor, and our fighting brothers, along with their proud warships, have sunk to the cold seabed!"

"Kill those damn heretics!!"

A subdued commotion and a low growl of anger rose from the crowd. Captain Balfour paused to let the emotion ferment.

"The heretics thought they could force us to surrender with such cowardly acts! They were wrong!" His voice suddenly rose. "They have ignited the holy fire of revenge in our hearts! We may not have the advanced weapons of our enemies, but we have the blessing of Christ, the guidance of Saint Neos, and the pride and courage of mankind! We are the European Union Navy!"

"The European Alliance Navy!" A thunderous response erupted from the Ren Mio Liu Private 锍废插II bar group.

"Look at these fighters around you!" Captain Balfour pointed to the fleet of planes ready at the rear of the deck. "They may not be the fastest, but their machine spirits are as loyal as ours! They will carry our rage and seek out those damned targets!"

He took a deep breath and scanned the young and resolute faces.

"England expects everyone to do their duty! Now, I command—revenge for our sunken comrades! Revenge for our burned homes! For Christ, for the saints, for humanity! Deploy to battle positions! Pilots, prepare for takeoff!"

"For Christ! For the saints! For humanity!" Thunderous slogans resounded through the sky, the sailors waved their fists, and their morale was ignited to the extreme at this moment.

The crowd dispersed, and the pilots rushed to their respective fighter preparation rooms. Among them was Captain Alistair Finch, commander of the Holy Flame Torpedo Squadron. He donned his equipment in silence.

First put on a heavy wool-lined flight suit, then a life jacket filled with capoque cotton, and finally put on a leather flight helmet and fasten the goggles.

After getting dressed, all the pilots did not go to the hangar immediately, but turned and walked into a narrow passage inside the ship, at the end of which was the cathedral of the Hundred-Eyed Giant.