Bismarck

"Hey Hey……"

He paid no attention to the noise made by the clowns on the tactical radio, and even ignored the hundreds of carrier-based aircraft from the enemy's second echelon and the more than 30 anti-ship missiles that were following closely and seemed to be even more powerful. Zeppelin looked worriedly in the direction of French Morocco on the North African continent.

There, except for a few small places like Porto Ceuta which are Spanish colonies, most of the rest of Morocco’s land is a protectorate controlled by France!

And now, everything here is in the hands of the US military!

In the northwest corner of Morocco, bordering the Atlantic Ocean, within a range of 600 kilometers from Tangier to Agadir, it is estimated that there are at least a dozen or twenty airports!

Even though they are just some homemade airports, even the wealthy Americans don't have the energy to invest too much here.

After all, according to the provisions of international law, the real power here still belongs to the colonial motherland France. Even though the free world has appointed the Free French Organization to organize the new French government, the current focus is on building roads - rather than airports. However, a dozen airports are theoretically enough to accommodate a powerful air force of thousands of aircraft!

It was not only Zeppelin who was worried about this. Commander Lütjens also told her through her good sister who was always quarreling with her that if there was any remaining fuel, she should find one or two airports to do a "sampling reconnaissance".

However... Cricket's sampling investigation, in her opinion, is not enough!

Wars are fought with intelligence! Even if you rely on estimates, you have to "sample" as many times as possible to get a more accurate estimate.

The only problem is...

"Grislavsky, take everyone with you and come with me to seize the altitude... The air battle will follow the old rules: four-plane formation, altitude stratification, radar aiming, rocket salvo! First disrupt their deployment, and then use our speed to crush them!"

Zeppelin's words were full of murderous intent, wanting to end the battle quickly and decisively, and only get down to business after dealing with the miscellaneous cultivators.

The first batch of 24 fighters will be returning soon, but Buckhorn will definitely catch up with them. And there are Globe's 12 fighters on the Gneisenau!

Thirty-one jets are still not enough to kill you bunch of flying dragons and flamethrowers!

As for missing a few bombers...

Forget it, Eugen's missiles should be put into use soon. Just think of it as giving her a small toy as a token of apology.

At the same time, the fleet more than 100 kilometers behind Zeppelin had also turned to the north and into the wind - which was conducive to the rapid take-off and landing of fighter jets, and also gradually increased the distance from the anti-ship missiles.

More than thirty heavy anti-ship missiles can be considered a threat of moderate size.

but……

Bismarck even wanted to laugh: heavy anti-ship missiles cannot turn midway!

Moreover, as long as it is not the "KanColle-guided" version, it may not be able to keep up with the changes in your own position!

Unlike airborne anti-ship missiles that can carry out saturation strikes because they are in close range, these long-range ship-based anti-ship missiles, to put it bluntly, cannot be accurately positioned and have no command to change trajectory. They are like torpedoes and can only be thrown out in a fan-shaped pattern - and then it's all down to luck.

Not to mention there is something called electronic interference!

Thinking about it, they had used missiles to attack several times, and even if the sisters were operating them personally, they had to think carefully and try every possible means to estimate the enemy's position before launching heavy anti-ship missiles. Even so, they always had to come up with new things such as pilot bombs, passive reception of grapes, and fan-shaped combined attacks.

If our ship girls have to launch fan-shaped attacks when firing anti-ship missiles, then what about the anti-ship missiles of ordinary destroyers... ?

Even if I don't say anything and just ignore it, I'm afraid it's almost the same, right?

(The reason is really simple: if there were new shipgirls hidden in the Gibraltar garrison fleet, the air raid at 7 or 8 in the morning would have been blown up by the Zeppelin. So the answer is definitely no!)

Of course, Cunningham couldn't take the enemy so lightly...

After all, they have two ship girls, three aircraft carriers, five battleships, two missile heavy cruisers, and at least more than 300 anti-ship missiles!

................................................

"Old... ahem, Secretary Bailey, how is the battle between Lütjens and Mountbatten going? Can you give me a report?"

"Well, okay, Your Excellency, Admiral!" Secretary Bailey smiled as she flipped open the memo and spoke softly, enunciating each word - her whole body was filled with the aura of a smiling tigress, and the propulsion shaft below accidentally came into close contact with the upper of her commander's shoe.

Looking at the grinning old unkempt man, the charming girl gave her old man an equally charming roll of the eyes.

"...The second attack wave of the Gibraltar Fortress has been defeated by Zeppelin's fleet. Our submarines reported that as of 2:30 p.m., the Germans were still 70 kilometers east of Cape St. Vincent and did not continue to move eastward. However, the Gibraltar Fortress now has no more troops to organize a fleet attack, and the consumption of the Lütjens fleet is not enough... Should we go into battle...?"

"At this position... we are still not within the range of Gibraltar's missiles." Cunningham thought for a moment, then turned his head and asked, "How far are we from them now? What about the position difference?"

"According to the submarine's report, their position is estimated to be about 55 degrees northeast of us, and the distance is..." War-weary paused for a moment, calculated in his mind, and then continued: "The distance is kilometers. Their current position."

"This distance is still a bit dangerous... and Lütjens and his men can retreat north at any time. Once our attack fails, our propeller carrier battleships will definitely not be able to withstand the repeated bombing of more than a hundred jets from the Zeppelin and Gneisenau aircraft carriers!" Cunningham didn't even think about it, and collapsed directly into the seat behind him, emitting the smell of salted fish from his heart to his body.

"Let's stick to the established policy. We should continue to wait until Lütjens really starts a fight with Gibraltar."

882: Insight

Between 2:20 and 3:00 p.m., after releasing the carrier-based aircraft group, the German fleet turned back to the southeast with a downwind direction, waiting for the aircraft carrier's boilers to restore steam pressure while continuing to approach Cape St. Vincent.

However, after defeating the Gibraltar fortress aircraft group and the British carrier-based aircraft group, even the Zeppelin's fuel was not enough to conduct further reconnaissance of the Allied airfields near the Strait.

Fortunately, several reconnaissance planes that had landed on the Gneisenau aircraft carrier during the first air raid on the Gibraltar garrison fleet early in the morning were now able to attack again.

As the reconnaissance planes were released, and the interception fighters led by Zeppelin landed one after another, and in order to take off and land the planes, the entire fleet was sailing north against the wind. For a moment, the originally tense people seemed to suddenly relax, and they could chat and laugh with German beer while watching the Allied aircraft groups in the distance that were forced to retreat after suffering heavy losses through the radar screen. Even the captains of the ships and even the ship girls could take a rare breath.

However, anyone can be among the group of people who feel a little relieved - except the fleet commander and his secretary ship!

Especially now that they are in a dilemma between the Gibraltar Fortress and Cunningham...

In the water room next to the C4ISR command room, under the light and shadow coming through the window, a figure with pointed ears that could not be covered even with a wide-brimmed hat, threw a few ice cubes just taken out of the ice maker into the cup with a clink, then took the coffee pot that had just brewed substitute coffee with the other hand, and finally poured the steaming but strange-tasting substitute coffee slowly onto the ice in the cup, and then gently stirred it with a small spoon to cool the originally steaming coffee down sooner.

The girl sighed slightly while making coffee, and her mood was just like the slightly uneasy feeling under the military-style skirt that had been modified by the tailor with scissors, and the tip of her tail was shaking slightly from side to side.

It was wartime and supplies were rationed. There was no ice cream, chocolate or original coffee beans to carefully prepare the exquisite German iced coffee. Even a simple and refreshing cup of Japanese iced coffee tasted bad, weird and bitter because of the substitute coffee used.

Just like this terrible battle situation.

"It's almost four o'clock..."

Amid the mottled light and shadow, the cat-eared ship girl looked up at the wall clock, then turned her body to look in the direction of the C4ISR headquarters, while thinking of the man who was hunched over the table in the headquarters, racking her brains for a way out of the impasse. She stirred the still warm cup in her hand, lowered her head with drooping ears, picked up the coffee cup, and let out a long sigh - it was unclear whether she was blowing the coffee cool or sighing.

In terms of judging the overall situation of this battle and calculating the enemy's situation, there is still a limit to what I can do to help the captain...

After stirring it and blowing on it, she walked into the command center quietly with concern in her heart and handed the cool cup of coffee to the captain.

"Thank you."

Lütjens drew a few more strokes on the chart, then turned around, with bloodshot eyes, and drank the coffee cup. Then he continued to work on the chart and predict the battle situation. The secretary over there lowered his head and quietly made another cup of iced coffee, then came to Lütjens and took the navy ruler and two-color pencil.

"Captain, let me do the map work as well."

Lütjens glanced at the person next to him, raised his eyebrows and nodded, then began to work on his homework with his photo-editing cat.

"…The exact range of their missiles is unclear, but judging from the previous exchanges of fire, it is not farther than ours - that is, the threat range of their missiles is about 30 kilometers west of Cape St. Vincent. But we are now west of Cape St. Vincent, and the coastal terrain in this area is all cliffs hundreds of meters high. The terrain shielding is beneficial to us. The main thing is that if their missiles accidentally hit Portugal, it may cause a diplomatic incident. Even if their battleship fleet may still have more than a hundred missiles, we must pay attention to this."

Bismarck nodded obediently, as if it was written with "study hard and make progress every day".

Lütjens tilted his head to glance at the obedient secretary cat, then turned his head back to the direction of the chart table, pointed to an arc line on the chart that marked the range of the Gibraltar Fortress's anti-ship missiles, and continued, "It's four o'clock now, and we are almost within 200 nautical miles of Gibraltar. Their missiles haven't come yet because Cape St. Vincent has blocked us, but we will turn around Cape St. Vincent at 4:30 at the latest... and the wind direction in this area is very changeable: we are now in the north wind, and after passing Cape St. Vincent, it will be the east wind - although sailing against the wind is suitable for attack, it also means that we have no way to retreat!"

"So there is a high probability that Cunningham will join forces with Gibraltar to attack us at this time!" Bismarck slammed his palms and shouted directly.

"That's right." Lütjens nodded. "If we want to continue the attack here, we can only move eastwards - and then we will be sent straight into the missile fire net of the Gibraltar Fortress."

"And there's Cunningham in the southwest. They're downwind of us." The downwind position is suitable for launching carrier-based aircraft. Bismarck knew this well even without Lütjens saying it. So a smart Persian cat couldn't help but turn his pointed ears and pretend to think: "Then... we are now..."

"The range of American aircraft is generally too long. We cannot escape their combat radius even if we retreat. However, there are more than a dozen airports in Morocco. I don't know if they have mobilized reinforcements..." Before Lütjens finished speaking, an officer who was watching the radio station ran over with a microphone and headphones: "General, urgent report from the reconnaissance plane!"

The captain's heart skipped a beat and he quickly grabbed the microphone: "This is Lütjens, what's going on?"

"Report to the General. Four old battleships and eight destroyers were found at the exit of the Strait of Gibraltar. No enemy light carriers were found... Oh no! It's the P-38 Twin Demon! Coming from the direction of Tangier (across the Strait of Gibraltar)!"

"What?! Tangier?" Bismarck and Lütjens were both shocked - this is the largest port in Spanish Morocco, and it is an "internationally administered free city" ruled by the "United Nations". In theory, it is not a colony of Vichy France!

This kind of "free market" has come to an end. It turns out that both the League of Nations and the United Nations are unreliable!

The most important thing is that this place is right in front of the Gibraltar Fortress, but this is also an internationally trusted neutral zone. If the British and Americans shamelessly set up firing points here and use the neutral zone as a "human shield", then should we still fight?

Especially since this was a Spanish colony...

You know, Germany is already in a passive position in diplomacy now! We cannot afford to lose another diplomatic partner!

Lütjens' heart tightened, and he grabbed the microphone and shouted: "Reconnaissance plane, check if their plane is heading towards Tangier (dudududu...boom!...zizi...zizi...)...damn it!"

Before he could finish his verification, the only sound in his earphones was the noisy noise of the reconnaissance plane being shot down. Even though he was a veteran in many battles, Lütjens couldn't help but punch the table in frustration.

As luck would have it, another reconnaissance plane flying towards Casablanca in French Morocco also received an anxious response from the radio: "Emergency report! A large number of British and American aircraft have been discovered at the North African airport!... The Casablanca airport is full of four-engine heavy bombers and fighter jets... Not good! (clamor, clamor) We are being intercepted! The interceptor is... Mustang! That's the American Mustang! (clamor, clamor... boom!)... Zig... Zig... Zig..."

The intelligence that the reconnaissance plane transmitted back at great cost disappeared in the radio echo, and there was silence in the C4ISR command center.

It's not just mourning for the fallen pilots, but also worrying about the arrival of reinforcements from the Allied forces on the opposite side.

There are powerful enemies behind us, and reinforcements in front of us! And these reinforcements are coming unexpectedly in large numbers!

The secretary ship looked at her commander and said, "Captain, what should we do now?"

"There is no other way now. We have to hold on even if we have to, because we can't run away! American aircraft generally have a long range. Even with anti-aircraft missiles and jet fighters, they dare to carry out shuttle bombings on the mainland from time to time..." Lütjens raised his head, as if he could see the European continent under constant artillery fire through the thick armor plate of the headquarters, but his voice and tone did not stop: "Since running away is useless, the only way left is to fight to the death!"

"But...will Cunningham come out?"

"...I don't know. Besides, we only have a few reconnaissance planes left. Now we are being targeted by their submarines." Lütjens was silent for a while, then shook his head: "After thinking about our current problem, we have figured it out: anti-ship missiles are still very inflexible to use. If we want to launch a missile attack, we will first crash into their anti-ship missile firepower network. As for the aircraft, the TA-183 has a limited range, and the wind direction is not favorable now. If the aircraft carrier uses aircraft, it will have to go back, and basically it will not be able to move forward..." At this point, Lütjens shrugged helplessly at the Persian cat beside him: "Now you know why we have to turn around Cape St. Vincent, right?"

"But what about those American planes? And the anti-ship missiles of the Gibraltar fortress and the garrison fleet? Wouldn't it be better for us to wait until dark before going?" Bismarck was puzzled.

"Silly girl, have you never thought about it? Why their airport is obviously full of planes, and the range is sufficient, but they haven't launched a large-scale air strike until now? Even their planes were still parked at the airport until just now?" Looking at the secretary ship whose cat hair was almost bent into a question mark, Lütjens, with his hands on his hips, couldn't help but laugh.

"Why? Could it be..." Bismarck also reacted: "Could it be that they are not ready either?"

"Yes! If they came from Italy, the flight distance is about 2,000 kilometers - this is basically the distance of a shuttle bombing! Even if it is just a transfer, the aircraft must be inspected and maintained for such a long distance." Lütjens said, and sneered again, "Besides, maybe their ammunition is still on the way."

"Captain, what you mean is that although there are not many American planes, their logistical status...?"

Upon hearing this, the Persian cat's drooping ears and head stood up.

But think about it, after all, this is a distance of thousands of kilometers. Although there are more than a dozen airports in Morocco, and the US Army Air Force once stationed there, but when did that happen? Even if there are still a batch of ammunition and fuel left, the quantity is not too much - and if you calculate it this way, the previous North African campaign was mainly a land battle! And it was backstabbing Italy... So even if they still have a large number of ammunition and troops here, there won't be many anti-ship missiles?

In this case, the transport aircraft has limited load capacity, and it is not an easy task to transport a large number of ammunition from the aircraft.

"So, Captain, what you mean is that if we attack now, they may not be able to organize a coordinated attack?" The Persian cat, who thought he was very smart, turned his ears and understood his captain's thoughts. Then his face turned cloudy: "In that case, Captain, should we rush past Cape St. Vincent as fast as possible?"

"Yes! Before they are ready - otherwise, when they are ready, we can't withstand hundreds of planes from dozens of airports! But as long as we turn the Cape of St. Vincent, we can attack and take off the planes!" Lütjens stood up, looked at the battleships beside him, and nodded decisively. Then, as if he thought of something, a smile appeared on his pursed lips, and he added: "And in this way, Cunningham only has this one chance to organize a pincer attack on us - the sunset time here is nine o'clock in the evening. If we don't organize an attack now, with Zeppelin here, they won't get any advantage in a night battle! Not to mention, do you remember that it's not just us who are participating in the battle this time, there is also a submarine squadron sent by Dönitz! If it really drags on until night, the probability of them being attacked by submarines will be very high!"

Lütjens was very confident when he said this, and even had his hands on his hips and sounded righteous.

After all, as the admiral of the evil spirit fleet, he knew the anti-submarine detection range of the four warships around him very well - without towed sonar, the detection range was only about 20 kilometers. Moreover, as long as the submarines were submerged and used radio buoys to send telegrams or long-range torpedoes to snipe, as long as there were no depth charges, there would be no way to deal with these underwater wolves.

However... which battleship would be equipped with depth charges and towed sonar specifically for anti-submarine warfare? Not to mention that towed sonar can only be used at low speeds, and given the tonnage of a battleship, even a ship girl's acceleration is very slow compared to a torpedo!

Currently, in the Evil Spirit Fleet, only Prince Eugen is equipped with anti-submarine towed sonar and hedgehog bombs.

Not to mention that the two British ship girls are just battleships!

Moreover, although the British fleet is large and powerful, its large size also means that the fleet is dispersed over a wide area!

Especially now the modified XXI submarine is equipped with a towed sonar, and the range of oxygen torpedoes has reached about 20 kilometers! As long as Cunningham is not stupid enough to use the Vanguard and Warspite as anti-submarine ships, then the submarines lurking in this area will have a high chance of a successful sneak attack as long as night falls!

"Is that so? Then we can use the time difference to defeat them one by one!" The backbone in his heart had a direction, and the happy Persian cat immediately had an idea: "Then... Captain, what do you think, should we try a little trick?"

"What's that?" As soon as he mentioned the idea, Lütjens, who was well aware of the imagination of his own ship cat, also became interested.

"First of all, we can let the Zeppelin fly over the British heads, making them think we are going to launch a missile attack on them and force them to stay away." Bismarck, with a bright 100-watt LED high-power light shining on his head, said excitedly, "By the way, Captain, didn't you say that their base missile positions and garrison fleet are aiming at Cape St. Vincent? Then how about letting our helicopters drop a bunch of corner reflectors onto the cliffs of Cape St. Vincent?"

"The first idea is not bad, but the second idea..." After listening to Bismarck's brainwave, Lütjens, who was both angry and amused, slapped the cat's hat lightly, making a slapping sound: "Lost the reflector at Cape St. Vincent? Do you think the Portuguese can't find out that it was us who lost it? What if they really sided with Britain and the United States?"

"Hey! It will hurt!" Bismarck, covering his head and lowering his ears, looked at his captain with dissatisfaction, and showed his sharp fangs that seemed to want to bite people.

Then there was another soft smack under the slap, and her captain said: "Be serious on the battlefield. Besides, if it hurts, it should be my hand."

Looking at Bismarck, who had lost her playfulness and was only naughty, Lütjens, who had to keep a serious face in the command center, took off the cat's wide-brimmed hat helplessly, and gently rubbed her golden hair with his sore palms.

Amid the noisy fighting in the headquarters as if they did not take the serious environment of the battlefield seriously, and under the watchful eyes of the British submarines lurking in the deep sea, the Evil Spirit Fleet reorganized into a right-echelon formation suitable for turning and deploying at the first possible moment, while slowly releasing several duty fighters and heading towards the end of the European continent and the direction of the Gibraltar Fortress.

In the gradually setting sunlight, in the distance, the blue-gray outline hundreds of meters high is still faintly visible after refraction by the atmosphere.

Chapter 883: The Rhythm is Disrupted

"Submarine report: As of 3:50, the evil spirit fleet has left the sonar monitoring range... Before disappearing, the other party was about 50 kilometers northwest of Cape St. Vincent, with a speed of about 30 knots, heading towards Cape St. Vincent... above!"

Wearing the "Sword specially awarded by Marshal Tovey, Commander of the Home Fleet" on his waist, and dressed in a neat military uniform with a straight posture, Captain Vanguard, who had put away his memo, stood at attention swiftly, aggressively and meticulously. In the dim light of the incandescent lamp in the command room, he quietly waited for the salted fish named Andrew Cunningham, who was hunched over the chair in the command post, staring at the nautical chart with a pencil in his mouth, and not saying a word, to speak.

It’s just… Cunningham thought about Lütjens’s intention for a long time, and even though he was in pain, he still couldn’t figure it out.

"Bellie, Vanguard, you said that the reconnaissance plane that Lütjens sent to Morocco was still sending messages when it was shot down. In this case, he should have known that the reinforcements from the US Army Air Force were coming, so why is he still attacking there now? This desperate style does not seem like his shrewdness..."

"I don't know, but isn't this good? He's putting himself right under our noses and asking for his death?" The vanguard thought about it, but didn't find any problem - after all, as long as the Gibraltar Fortress, the Moroccan Air Force Base, and the Allied Atlantic Fleet could launch a pincer attack, then even if Lütjens had three heads and six arms, he would never be able to take care of all directions.

However, when the Vanguard said this, she was glared at by War-weary - as an old rival, how could she not know how cunning the evil fleet on the other side was. However, seeing the puzzled and somewhat aggrieved look of the Vanguard, she sighed silently in her heart. As a senior, she still grabbed the teaching stick and pointed to the sea chart on the table to explain to the Vanguard.

"We can't just see our advantages, we also have to be on guard against Lütjens' counterattack. Think about it, how cunning is Lütjens? We have been fighting him for so many years and still can't do anything to him. Could this old fox be so impulsive and put himself in the middle of our attack? Unless... unless he thinks we can't launch a pincer attack..." Halfway through his speech, War-weary suddenly thought of something, and his voice suddenly rose several decibels: "Wait! Didn't there a report before that the U.S. Army Aviation's vanguard fleet would not be dispatched until at least five o'clock due to maintenance of the U.S. reinforcements in Gibraltar and Morocco...?!"

With the words of war-weariness, Cunningham and even the vanguard's faces changed. Even Cunningham couldn't be a salted fish anymore, and jumped up from his chair like a ball: "Yes! That's true!"

“If the American vanguard aircraft group cannot be dispatched until five o’clock, the main aircraft group will be dispatched at least at six or even seven o’clock...but they have Zeppelin and anti-aircraft missiles. If the aircraft groups attack separately, they will be defeated one by one by the Zeppelin ships and crews flying in the sky all day long...but if they don’t attack and are preemptively bombed by Zeppelin, they will be doomed!” The vanguard’s mind also came into focus at this time, and he was so shocked that he almost jumped three feet high.