Chapitre 117: Chapter 195 Stimulus
In London, as warships sank one by one in Scapa Flow, Winston Churchill, the Minister of the Royal Navy, along with other naval officers, were discussing plans to annihilate the German navy.
The German navy, once disdained and considered insignificant, was advancing toward the Royal Navy with battleships and aircraft carriers being commissioned one after another, causing even the mighty British Empire to become wary.
"I knew I shouldn't have given them any chances." Churchill, with a portly figure and a cigar in his mouth, grumbled discontentedly. Churchill had always been against compromising with Germany, repeatedly emphasizing the necessity of reaching an understanding with the Soviet Union to halt German expansion.
Back when Neville Chamberlain arrived in Munich on the second day, Churchill gathered prominent British politicians for a luncheon at the Savoy Hotel in London. Attendees included opposition leaders Attlee and Sinclair, as well as prominent Conservatives like Eden and Lloyd. Churchill urged them to jointly send a telegram to Chamberlain, demanding the preservation of Czechoslovakia's independence and security. However, one after another, his conversational partners expressed their inability to sign. According to the description of Asquith's daughter Bemcat, when the participants left without deciding anything, "tears filled Churchill's eyes."
Now, the powerful Germany was showing its fierce fangs again, invading Poland despite the declaration of war by Britain and France.
The results stunned everyone. The self-proclaimed "Eastern Europe's primary military power", Poland, collapsed effortlessly in just 20 days under Germany's onslaught. The President and Marshal became captives, along with their entire staff, all destined for post-war trials.
Even after the Polish campaign, most of the British high command clung to a glimmer of hope, expecting Germany to continue its eastward push to confront the Soviet Union. However, recent intelligence revealed that Germany had prepared for war on the Western Front. Only then did everyone wake up to the fact that Germany never had any intention of advancing eastward; they were determined to take on Britain and France. Consequently, Britain dispatched a massive transport fleet to ferry an expeditionary force to France, planning to deploy 300,000 British soldiers on the main front.
"Foolish!" Churchill had always believed that this war could have been easily stopped at the beginning. Still, due to the "unwise, complacent, and kind-hearted nature of the British people", the villains re-armed. "We need to find an opportunity to have a naval showdown with the Germans as soon as possible. Utilize our superior forces to crush the newly formed German High Seas Fleet."
Sir Dudley Pound, the Commander of the Mediterranean Fleet, smiled slightly. "Winston, don't worry too much. After all, the German navy has only recently begun to grow stronger. They can't compare to the British Royal Navy, which has dominated the seas for a century in all aspects. You've seen it; they don't even have the courage to fight us. In the last two encounters, they turned tail and fled. Even if we can't annihilate their fleet, as long as we blockade the German waters, we can trap Germany on the European continent, just like the last Great War." Then the British Empire could rely on its absolute resource advantage to wear down the formidable challenger, Germany.
Churchill nodded reluctantly. Although he knew that Sir Dudley Pound made sense, he had a lingering sense of unease, feeling that the German navy was a underestimated threat. "What if we deploy a fleet between the waters outside Denmark and the Baltic Sea? It might lure the German navy out. Then we deploy two more supporting fleets and encircle them."
Sir Dudley Pound nodded. "That can be considered. But we should send a few crates of vodka to the German navy first. Perhaps vodka can boost their courage, and they'll come out for a decisive battle against us."
The people in the room burst into hearty laughter.
"Ring! Ring!" Just then, the phone on Winston Churchill's desk suddenly rang, sounding somewhat piercing.
"I'm Winston Churchill..." A strange sense of unease flashed through Churchill's mind as he hastily picked up the phone.
"Your Excellency Churchill! Something terrible has happened! Churchill, it's all over!" A frantic, incoherent cry came from the other end of the line.
Churchill couldn't help but furrow his brow. "Who are you? What do you mean it's all over?!"
But the caller didn't pay any attention to his words, continuously and madly repeating the phrase "it's all over."
After listening for a moment, Churchill abruptly hung up the phone. "Who's this lunatic?"
Sir Dudley Pound curiously inquired, "What's happening? What do you mean by 'it's all over'?"
Churchill was equally bewildered. "I don't know; some madman must have dialed the wrong number." Yet, he couldn't shake off a lingering sense of concern; after all, it was uncommon for a lunatic to reach this phone and accurately shout his name.
Just as he was about to ask his secretary to check where the call had come from, the phone rang again.
Churchill answered the phone once more. This time, a different person was on the line, although the voice was equally panicked, at least they could articulate their words. "Your Excellency Churchill, this is Scapa Flow Naval Base. We've been attacked!"
"Attacked? Where is Admiral Hebrew Jones? Let him take the call!"
"!!" The people in the room couldn't help but exchange astonished looks. Hebrew Jones, the commander of Scapa Flow Naval Base, implying that Scapa Flow had been attacked?! The only possible enemy capable of attacking them was the German navy, but how was that possible? The German navy had returned to port just a few days ago and couldn't mobilize so quickly, not to mention the mismatch in timing.
The voice on the other end, tinged with crying, replied, "Commander Hebrew suffered a heart attack and has just passed away! I'm Colonel Joseph, his staff officer. The one who called you earlier was the commander's adjutant, but it seems his mental state isn't good."
"What?!" Churchill stood up abruptly. If a commander could die from a heart attack, the losses must be devastating. "Colonel Joseph, was it an enemy warship or aircraft attack?!"
Colonel Joseph hesitated for a moment before responding, "We haven't discovered any trace of the enemy until now. Commander Hebrew concluded it was a submarine attack, but we've blocked all entrances and exits, bombarded the entire harbor with depth charges, and still found no enemy vessel."
Churchill was left bewildered by this situation. How was it possible for German submarines to escape detection? "What about the losses?"
Colonel Joseph replied with a trembling voice, "All battleships and aircraft carriers have been hit. Royal Oak, Iron Duke, Nelson, and Argus have all sunk; Ark Royal, Renown, and Rodney are about to capsize; the others have also suffered heavy damage..."
"..." Churchill could no longer comprehend. His obese body slumped weakly into the chair, staring blankly at the people before him.
"Winston?" Seeing Churchill's reaction, everyone sensed that the situation was dire. Sir Dudley Pound picked up the fallen handset. "This is Dudley Pound; how are the losses over there?" After listening for a few sentences, he felt a rush of heat to his forehead, then lost consciousness, not even hearing the gasps from those behind him.
People hurriedly supported him, only to find that he had completely lost consciousness, with a pungent smell slowly permeating the air.
"Oh God! Doctor! Quickly, call a doctor!" The people in the room shouted anxiously. Two doctors rushed over, examined him, and regretfully informed everyone that Sir Dudley Pound couldn't be saved.
Lord Pound's health had never been good. In the original timeline, he also didn't witness the end of the war, resigning in September 1943 due to health reasons and passing away in October of the same year.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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