Holy Roman Empire

Chapter 1119 - 133, Air Strike



Chapter 1119: Chapter 133, Air Strike

Gentle sunlight showered the land, and the warm, enveloping air was indulgent. At the docks, the sound of ships’ boilers had stirred, heralding yet another busy day.

“Tom, did you know? We’ve gone to war with the Austrians.”

The dockworkers were used to the man in grey asking and answering his own questions. The drudgery and tedium of dock work required finding some kind of joy to unwind.

Small talk was undoubtedly the cheapest form of entertainment. The docks, teeming with people coming and going, provided a wealth of topics for idle banter.

Tom rolled his eyes and placed the cargo he was carrying on his legs, “John, isn’t that obvious?

I also know it’s not just with the Austrians we’re at war; we’re actually fighting against many countries across Europe. Since we started work today, the bigwigs have been discussing it, and my ears aren’t deaf.

...

But what does that have to do with us? We still have to work, regardless. Unless you are thinking of enlisting?”

In Britain, “enlisting” came with its own set of barriers; it wasn’t enough to be physically strong and have a clean background.

During peacetime, the Lobster Soldiers were few, not requiring mass recruitment; the Navy had even higher standards—illiteracy meant you could pretty much forget about it.

Now that war had broken out, the Lobster Soldiers indeed had started to expand their ranks, but joining now meant becoming cannon fodder.

Fighting against the whole European Continent, the Royal Navy was indubitably fearless at sea, but on land, it was akin to marching toward certain death.

Civilians might be limited in their knowledge, but they still possessed the most fundamental common sense.

“Pfft!” John said disdainfully, “Tom, that’s all you know. Do you think I’m an idiot to enlist at a time like this?”

After a few seconds’ pause, seeing that Tom offered no response, John continued, “Don’t think the war has nothing to do with us. Once it starts, prices are bound to rise.

Don’t forget, we import millions of tons of agricultural products from the Holy Roman Empire every year. Now that’s suddenly gone; how easily do you think such a gap can be filled?

And once the war fires start, our trade with the countries of Europe will be disrupted as well. I reckon the work on the docks will diminish soon.”

Everything else seemed unimportant, but the prospect of rising prices and less work on the docks profoundly impacted everyone’s mind.

They all began to calculate how much food they could stockpile for their households; and without work on the docks, what else they might do for a living.

The more they thought about it, the graver the issue seemed, and before long, their faces were clouded with concern, and the mood for casual chat had dissipated.

Suddenly, a shrill whistling sound rang out, and looking up, they saw an overwhelming swarm of planes.

Due to technical limitations, aviation fuel was extremely expensive in those days. The British Air Force would definitely not assemble so many fighters without a reason.

The dockworkers hadn’t yet processed what was happening, but the Royal Navy, stationed not far away, sensed trouble.

Someone shouted “Enemy attack!” and immediately, a barrage of explosions reverberated in their ears.

Bricks, soil, tiles, and even human limbs flew through the air, amid relentless cries, shouts, and pleas for help.

From above, the world was reduced to three colors: the blue sea, the splattering grey-black, and the striking crimson mingled within.

The scene unfolding before his eyes left Major General Winston on duty pale with shock. Regaining composure, he immediately ordered, “Quick, command all to board, set sail, depart from the harbor!”

Organize air defense?

Liverpool Port, located in the northwest of England, was hundreds of kilometers from the nearest point on the European Continent.

No one had anticipated an aerial attack here. Air defense preparations were being made in London, not here.

However, the winter haze had saved London, while Liverpool, believed to be safe, was hammered by the Shinra Air Force.

Helpless, for they were within the bombing range of the Shinra Air Force. If only they were a bit further, like Aberdeen in Scotland, they would have narrowly escaped disaster.

If it were only a matter of proximity, then Hastings and Margate, near the Dover Strait and less than one hundred kilometers from the European Continent, should have been the prime targets.

Unfortunately, Hastings and Margate were mere countryside locales, not cities; oversized towns that hardly warranted specific targeting.

Liverpool, in contrast, was different. Perhaps in later times, London would outshine it, rendering the port city inconspicuous; but at this moment, it was one of Britain’s core cities, second only to London in importance.

As the commercial heart of Britain, doubling as the nation’s second-largest port of trade, it handled a quarter of the total national trade. Leading in exports and second only to London in imports.

Beyond its prosperous commerce, it was also the center of Britain’s manufacturing industry, particularly ranking among the top three worldwide in shipbuilding.

This heavy industrial city, also a major base for the Royal Navy, brought together several factors that culminated in today’s tragedy.

Air defense was out of the question. Relying on a few anti-aircraft cannons and machine guns to fend off an overwhelming bombardment of planes was utterly unrealistic.

The naval vessels could move out, enhancing their chances of survival once mobile, but the docks and harbor couldn’t flee; they were left in place to serve as targets.

The plea for help had already been sent out. Now, all Major General Winston could do was pray to God: The enemy’s aim was imprecise, sparing the harbor and shipyards from serious damage.

Privately, Winston cursed all the military and bureaucrats in the cities along the enemy’s path.

Hundreds of enemy planes had passed without any advance warning—a blatant dereliction of duty.

In fact, Major General Winston had it wrong. The warning had been sent; it just went to London instead of Liverpool.

In the era without radar, air defense relied on the naked eye and ears.

When enemy planes were spotted, they were already overhead. Not everyone was a strategist, able to discern the enemy’s strategic targets by their direction.

After enemy planes were detected and confirmed, bureaucrats needed time to react.

Adding the time it took for reports to ascend through the ranks, the response from the London Government wouldn’t come quicker than the enemy aircraft.

If Major General Winston was willing to wait patiently, he might receive an enemy attack warning shortly.

Of course, that might not be possible this time, as London had become a battlefield concurrently with Liverpool’s aerial assault.

Despite the haze making aerial attacks less effective, bombing London had significant political implications, with actual military outcomes being secondary.

As the capital of the Great Britain Empire, London’s air defense forces were naturally incomparable to those of Liverpool.

The air raid alarms had been wailing early on, and with the explosion of bombs and the roar of artillery, the entire city was plunged into chaos.

The impact of the fog was double-edged; the Shinra Air Force couldn’t accurately pinpoint targets below, so they simply gambled with fate.

Bombs were dropped from extremely high altitudes, hitting whatever was beneath; the outcomes were entirely at the will of God.

The sky couldn’t see below, and likewise, those on the ground couldn’t see the sky. The British anti-aircraft guns and machine guns were firing blindly.

It was estimated that the results obtained were probably not as great as the damage caused by shrapnel falling from the bombs themselves.

But they had to shoot. Everyone needed the psychological comfort. Besides, only by firing shells could they prove that they were conducting air defense.

For the sake of their lives, the British Government had been forced to move their offices into air-raid shelters. Prime Minister Campbell had originally refused, but the enemy’s bombing was too fierce, and a shell had happened to fall on the government office building.

Fortunately, the building was of high quality and only suffered damage at the top without a complete collapse.

Perhaps the capitalists knew the importance of this place and did not cut corners in construction; otherwise, the British Government might have been wiped out.

Of course, the greatest credit was due to the fog. Because of the low visibility, it was impossible to aim precisely at targets below, and the ammunition equipped on the participating Shinra fighter planes was all designed for a wide killing radius, with limited damage to individual targets.

Having narrowly escaped one disaster, no one could guarantee they would avoid the next. Faced with harsh reality, they had to move.

It wasn’t because they were afraid, but to ensure the smooth command system of the Great Britain Empire, everyone had to sacrifice their personal…

With ash-faced grimness, they entered the safe zone. Campbell’s mood was naturally not great; he glanced at the Air Force Minister and demanded sharply, “Where is our Air Force, and why haven’t they taken off to intercept?”

In response to the Prime Minister’s question, Air Force Minister Attilio explained helplessly, “The fog is too thick in London, and the airports in the city have been closed early. Our Air Force had to be relocated to airports in nearby cities.

The combat orders were issued at the very moment the air raid began. Our fighter planes have started to take off and are on their way here.”

There was no choice; London’s winters were just too treacherous. Under the dense fog, planes had no problem taking off, but landing was a different story.

Even the most experienced pilots couldn’t find the airport to land accurately in a world where visibility was less than fifty meters.

Out of necessity, the Air Force had to move the airfields to surrounding cities. Normally this wasn’t an issue, but during wartime, it was troublesome.

Whether issuing orders or taking off to arrive, it all required time. Being able to reach the battlefield within an hour was already efficient.

Every minute on the battlefield was precious, let alone an hour. In such a long time, the enemy could complete a bombing run and escape.

The main problem was the lack of experience and a complete early warning system. But with London’s unpredictable weather, in an era without radar, attempting to predict an attack was truly difficult.

In the original timeline, German Zeppelins could raid over London, and now with airplanes in the picture, it went without saying.

Although the actual physical damage was limited, the psychological damage was significant! After such turmoil, it was estimated that the confidence of the London populace in the war had probably plummeted.

Prime Minister Campbell said gravely, “Order the Air Force to counterattack the enemy at all costs. We must let the Austrians know that London is not a place where they can come and go as they please!”

“`

Potential is forced out. Under the urgent orders from the military department, the British Air Force unleashed unparalleled potential, ascending to the skies in the shortest time possible and heading to London at maximum speed.

Colonel James led the Third Air Force Corps, standout performers amongst the British Air Force, and the first to arrive over London.

However, what greeted him were not flowers or applause, but enemy planes flying straight at them.

There was no choice; the military orders were too urgent, leaving no time for a proper assembly. Everyone rushed to London in a frenzy.

The Third Air Force Corps, which was closest and reacted fastest, met a tragic situation. Once they reached the battlefield, all they saw were enemy planes.

“Fuck!”

After cursing, Colonel James hurriedly ordered a retreat. It was common to face ten foes, but a fighter jet capable of taking on ten by itself had yet to exist.

At least the Third Air Force Corps led by James did not possess such strength. Running away without winning wasn’t shameful, especially since the London fog was thick enough to conceal from those below what was happening above.

Unfortunately, it was all too late. Turning a fighter jet around at high speed requires time. In just that short moment, the enemy planes had closed in.

Realizing the situation was hopeless, Colonel James immediately ordered, “The enemy’s planes are faster than ours; we can’t escape. Prepare to fight!”

The engagement began, and almost each British plane was assaulted by two to three Austrian aircraft—the scene was utterly brutal.

The whizzing bullets grazed past one’s ears, and Colonel James, who had narrowly escaped death, hadn’t even had the chance to catch his breath when he noticed two fewer fighter planes in the formation.

Then came two powerful explosions from below. The force of a plane crashing into a building dwarfed that of ordinary bombs.

It was suspected that these were the most powerful strikes since the air raid began. Whether any victories were achieved would be up to God’s will.

Unable for concern over his compatriots below, at this moment, Colonel James could only hope for his comrades to arrive sooner; otherwise, his Third Air Force Corps would be finished.

The second round of engagement had already begun. The enemy had added more planes to the assault, and his own reinforcements were still nowhere to be seen. Despair filled Colonel James’s heart.

At the critical moment, no miracle occurred. An absolute gap in strength couldn’t be bridged by luck, especially when Colonel James’s Third Air Force Corps was itself unfortunate.

Had God shown them the slightest favor, they wouldn’t have been the first to arrive and fall into the enemy’s ambush.

After struggling through three rounds, by the fourth round, only two fighter planes from Colonel James’s Third Air Force Corps were left.

If one observed carefully, they’d notice these two planes were covered in bullet marks. Their survival up to this point was entirely thanks to their exceptional professional skills, having avoided fatal hits.

At this instant, allies finally appeared on the horizon, but in Colonel James’s heart, there was only dejection.

“Here comes another ready to die!”

Despite knowing he shouldn’t think this way, one’s true inner thoughts aren’t something a person can control.

“`

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