Es Geloybte Aretz - a Germanwank

[wietze]

Originally Posted by The Sandman

For that matter, France doesn't actually have to go to war in order to help the Russians right now. Just taking actions that would make the Germans have reason to be afraid that France will jump them (lots of late-night meetings at the War Ministry, moving whatever standing army exists towards the border, making preparations for the fleets to sail, etc.) will tie down significant German assets. They can also help the Russians in other ways: pressuring the Ottomans to let war material flow through the Bosporus, letting the Russians use French flags on their merchantmen to avoid German attacks, providing the Russians with loans to buy goods, causing sudden and unfortunate difficulties with any shipments from or through France to Germany (IIRC, that would include a considerable amount of Germany's coal)...

There are many options open to a hostile neutral that don't require de jure violations of neutrality.

true, but more can play that game. The British could do the same with the french. And if the french pressure country A into doing something, the british can use pressure to the opposite, and in the end i think the british have more leverage than the french.

[carlton_bach]

19 June 1906 Heligoland

The grey, choppy waters of the North Sea were the perfect backdrop to a clash of grey steel monsters. The Russian cruiser squadron stood out from the south harbour, awaiting the arrival of the German fleet whose smoke would have betrayed their approach even if the observation balloon had not been raised. These waters were tight and cramped, with land and sandbanks encroaching from all sides. Very little could be done unobserved.

“Three battleships, five cruisers.”, the balloon observer reported.

Captain Kolchak nodded. This was the Wilhelmshaven squadron, out for blood, and late. Just as the plan said. For once, the enemy was cooperating. Identification was impossible at this range, of course, but it did not matter much. German battleships were fairly similar in terms of performance. Admiral Thomsen, the most likely person in command of the force, was a brave man, though not, as far as Kolchak knew, a reckless one. An expert in torpedo warfare. Not mines, then. That was something.

Slowly, almost majestically the battle unfolded. The German cruisers and torpedo boat screen peeled away from the battleship force to engage the foe. Medium guns flashed to keep the small craft at a distance. Circling and twisting, the Russian vessels tried to get into firing position, but it looked like German anti-torpedo boat drill was good. Then the cruisers engaged, columns of water rising around the vessels on both sides. Bayan in the lead, the Russian squadron steamed ahead for a notional place in front of the German ships. Crossing the T – it was every flag officer's nightmare. Now was the time to hope... no. The German fleet's discipline was too good. The cruisers fell back, letting the battleships come in closer. They knew that their mothers could protect them with mighty blows. No Russian could come close while they stuck together. No cruiser battle today. The torpedo boats melted back towards Heligoland.

Captain Hipper looked over the chart table, then out through the viewport of his battle bridge again. The Blücher, lead ship of the German cruiser line, was steaming a good ten knots below her capacity, and it felt like running with an iron ball tied to his ankle. Admiral Thomsen had advised them that there was an Ushakov-class coast defense ship around. So far, they had only seen cruisers and torpedo boats. Where was the damned thing?

“Report from lookout!”, the speaking tube whistled. An ensign took the message. “Lookout has spotten the Ushakov ship in the south harbour anchorage. It has no steam up.”

That was something. Hipper turned to look once more at the receding shapes of the Russian cruisers. “Signal the Barbarossa: Battleship spotted at anchor, not mobile. Request permission to pursue enemy cruisers.”

The radioman tapped out the message. To Hipper, the minute or so it took to code it seemed like an eternity. Things had been so much simpler in the days of flag and heliograph. Finally, the answer came. The ensign all but tore it out of the radioman's hands and rushed to the bridge. Hipper watched as the Friedrich Barbarossa increased speed, turning slightly to starboard. He knew already what it was going to say. “Permission granted: Blücher, Hardenberg and Roon supported by Lübeck and Rostock to engage cruisers. Good hunting!”

As the thud of the powerful engines speeded up, Hipper felt his pulse quicken. This was what he had trained for all this time. The Russians had turned, firing ineffectually, and were fleeing. Well, they could not hope to outrun his ships. To the east, Thomsen's battleships had moved into range and began dropping their ranging shots.

Captain Kolchak cursed his enforced idleness. All his weapons had already been laid,. his plans made, orders issued. There was nothing left for him to do. even Admiral Essen, his command post ashore from the Apraxin, was more active, signalling to the vessels at sea and directing the fire. The guns stayed silent. Now the German battleships had opened up, their main guns raising columns of water out in the anchorage. The captain was glad they had moved the civilians and their steamers to the northern end of the island. It was not safe – nowhere on Heligoland would be safe today – but at least it was away from where anyone would shoot deliberately.

The Apraxin's first shots went wide. Out at sea, the German line passed and would soon have to turn to keep up their fire. Kolchak hoped that the admiral's gunners had the point right. They had spennt hours sighting and tabulating, estimating ranges and elevations out to certain buoys and positions, so they would not have to spend too much time trying to get their bearings. To Kolchak's disappointment, though, they had miscalculated. Columns of greyish-white water rose almost four hundred meters short of the turning point. The second salvo struck home, but by that time the lead ship had turned and was heading back past the anchorage, closer this time. The front turret fired as the ship came out of the turn – were those German gunners automata? Their shells howled over the south harbour and struck, rocking the hull of the Apraxin and shatterings its bow deck. If the ship had been afloat, the hit would likely have crippled it.

Now a Russian salvo landed on the second ship in the German line. Orange-red flashes and black smoke engulfed its stern. Would this be the death blow? No, Kolchak concluded, training his telescope on the victim – the Sachsen, he thought. She still had steam, righting herself and following the leader in for a second pass. Her rear turret swivelled into firing position. Smoke poured from portholes, but it looked like contained damage. Christ, let the plan work! If not, these leviathans would pound them into submission before the cruisers could do anything. Concealing the shore battery until the enemy was closer sounded good on paper,m but it did not feel so right when those shells were coming down on you.

But now – now – the Germans were where he wanted them. Aside from the fact that where he really wanted them was far away, of course. This was it. His palms sweaty, Kolchak switched his view between the lead and second ship, still trainling smoke. The torpedo boats came around the dune now, attacking the flank of the battleships. In broad daylight, there was little they could do other than distract the officers, but that was the point. Torpedo wakes grew across the grey water as shell impacts blossomed around the small craft. One was hit, limping and burning. If things worked out, it would be a small price to pay. Against his better knowledge, Kolchak tried to spot the shadows of the mines he had laid in the path of the attacking squadron. He knew they were invisible, but right now – right now...

“They are turning tail, Sir!” The report from lookout sounded almost triumphant. Admiral Thomsen felt a momentary rush of elation. For all their vaunted sting, the Russian torpedo boats had proved a broken reed. Another attack driven off with their medium guns, and this time the enemy had lost one. The Russian battleship in the anchorage was getting a heavy pounding – another pass, perhaps, and she would be a wreck. Now not to get too close to the sandbanks.

“Captain”, he called out, “are we bearing too close inshore?”

There never was an answer. Without warning, the blow took him off his feet, tossing his and his bridge staff around like rag dolls. Smoke and water engulfed the ship and the groan of steel taxed beyond endurance mingled with the blast. Dazed and bleeding, his arm throbbing with pain, the admiral struggled to raise himself off the floor, now listing noticeably. A mine! Just like the Japanese had done it to Makarov, dammit! He was determined not to go out that way.

“Helmsman!”, he shouted out, “have we got steerageway?”

“Yes, Sir!” The engines were still thumping up their drumbeat. They had a chance yet!

“To port! Take us away from the shallows!”

“Yes, Sir!” The wheel spun, the ship's list now seeming to right itself as the rudder began to respond. The admiral tasted blood in his mouth and gingerly reached for his left arm. Bellowed orders and reports began to reassert the rule of its antlike crew over the ship. They were going to make it!

Darkness came quickly with the second blast.

“Good God, Sir! She's turned turtle!” Petty Officer Duboy stood by the controls of the electric mines, straing out fixedly over the water. Two had failed – enough had worked. Kolchak's heart raced. This was his victory! The German flagship had taken two hits and was sinking, turning on its side with a hiss and a groan they could hear on the island. The following vessels, number two still trailing wisps of smoke from its stern, pushed past her now, away from the island and on a course for home. The undamaged craft was slowing when, with a roar like the end of the world, the 30cm shore battery opened up. Kolchak said a brief prayer for the rails and rubble the engineers had laid under her. It had not been finished an hour too soon! Nobody had thought they could do it, but they had.

“My God!” The water around the shell impact seemed to be boiling. That was entirely too close! Captain Spee raced to the viewport and checked to see the timing. This shot could not possibly have come from the Apraxin. “Shore guns! They have us straddled!”

It was a complete disaster. Friedrich Barbarossa had sunk within minutes. Sachsen was still burning, and had taken damage from another one of the damned mines the Russians had lying around the island. The Apraxin was still firing, and now, shore guns were joining in. and out to the east, the torpedo boats were still circling, waiting. Admiral Thomsen had recalled the cruisers before his ship went down, and Spee had ordered Bayern to repeat the message by radio every two minutes. With no more thought for victory, extricating themselves from the trap was his main concern now. Slowly, too slowly his vessel was moving backwards, readying the tow that was to take Sachsen out of danger. Her rudder was damaged. Boat crews were aiding the transfer of the ropes while the ship's launches were picking survivors off Friedrich Barbarossa's hull. The sailors had thrown anything that would float over the side when they had passed the settling wreck, and the oil-stained water was still thronged with swimmers. The medium guns still roared, keeping the enemy's boats at a distance, but with the Russian shore guns now coming into action, they would not have the time to rescue everyone. Or even most.

“Cruisers heading our way, Sir!” the lookout reported. “It's Rostock and Lübeck, Hipper's squadron”.

Captain Spee shook his head angrily. ”Signal for them to keep their distance. We can take a few hits if it must be, but they can't. Have them come round south to our flank and keep the torpedo boats away.”

With a smart salute, a petty officer disappeared out of the door.

“Towline number one is secured, Sir. Only a few more minutes now.”

A few more minutes. That was how many shells? How many hits? His ship's armour was thick, and Sachsen had shrugged off a shell aft almost completely. But it just took one unlucky moment. When would the next blow fall?

“Why are we not firing!?” Captain Kolchak's face was flushed with anger and exertion. He had raced down from the plateau, along the beach to the Admiral's station expecting to find it blasted to red ruin by one of those terrifyingly accurate German shells. Instead, the busy calm of any command centre greeted him. A runner passed by headed to the north of the island as he passed through the low door.

“Captain?” Admiral Essen asked, his voice calm. It seemed louder than usual. Everyone down here must be slightly deafened by the gunfire and shell blasts. The anchorage had been turned into a vision of hell over the past 40 minutes. Shredded wood, twisted metal and conncrete chunks bore witness to the fury of the German fire. The Apraxin was holed, its bow torn apart and the fore turret a smoking ruin. But the fortune of war had spared the command post and the battery further doiwn the beach looked as new as it had this morning. Spotless. The gunners were lolling beside the heavy underpinnings they had so laboriously piled up through the night, watching the goings-on out at sea.

“Sir! I am glad to see you alive and well, but – why have we ceased fire?”

The Admiral looked at Kolchak coldly. “Captain, there are orders, and when an officer is ordered to do this, he must do as his suzerain demands. That is one thing, and we have heaped a great deal of crime upon our heads this day. But I will not murder helpless victims.”

Captain Kolchak stared out at sea for a moment. “Sir, these are two battleships! My mines are spent, but our guns can destroy them, or at least inflict serious damage. We cannot just let them escape! Sir, you must order...”

Essen raised his hand. “Captain Kolchak, I have given order for one of the confiscated tourist steamers to be sent down to pick up the survivors. We will not fire while we are not fired upon. That is all.”

Without the speed and power thrumming through its sleek body, a warship was a pitiful thing. Headed into a rising swell, Bayern was running quarter speed, Sachsen in helpless tow. On both flanks, Blücher and Hardenberg matched its crawl for protection. Captain Spee was close to tears. Not even two hours. Not even 45 minutes, if you only counted the battleship engagement, and his proud squadron had been destroyed. The Russian commander had studied the lessons of the Manchurian war well. And he? Spee had not been in command, but he was sure he would have made the same mistakes.

A radioman stepped onto the bridge and saluted.

“Yes?” The news of the defeat had, of course, preceded them and Spee expected the worst.

“Sir, a coded message was received while we were engaged. It's from the navy station in Cuxhaven.” The seaman's voice was bitter. “They say to expect mines and shore artillery.”

[My Username is Inigo Montoya]

You are a really talented writer, Carlton

[Monty Burns]

I wonder whether this defeat could help the Germans. The British are definitely unhappy with a Russian presence in the North sea. Now that presence will persist with the Germans unable to do something about it at least until the Kiel channel is reopened. How will Britain react?

[Arrix85]

That was a very costly delay, the info arriving in the moment was really taunting.

[Dathi THorfinnsson]

Originally Posted by Arrix85

That was a very costly delay, the info arriving in the moment was really taunting.

The people who delayed the message are going to have some explaining to do. .... So, how long have you worked for the Russians?....

[wietze]

Originally Posted by Monty Burns

I wonder whether this defeat could help the Germans. The British are definitely unhappy with a Russian presence in the North sea. Now that presence will persist with the Germans unable to do something about it at least until the Kiel channel is reopened. How will Britain react?

not only that, it will make the germans much more determined to get even (and more)

And admiral essen is not being nice, but he probably realises that their survival in the long term lies with acting civilised.
Being to brutal will only end with none of them taken prisoner.

[stubear1012]

I am really enjoying this timeline.

Regarding the smaller countries that may find themselves being pressured to take sides, I remember the old expression that "when the elephants fight, only the grass gets hurt".

Hopefully at the end of the day, the smaller countries can walk the fine line where they don't get dragged into the fight against their will.

However, if they decide that they want to jump in then that is their chose. I would just caution that with the new technologies, the human cost of war is greater than it was before.

Please keep updating this excellent timeline.

Stubear1012

Stubear1012

[Hoyahoo9]

Carlton, I've been so very much enjoying this TL and your excellent writing. Thank you, and keep up the great work.

I'm emerging from my usual lurkerdom because something just occurred to me - - Did I miss some key event in an early post that significantly changed things, or is the pre-POD Treaty of Dual Alliance between Germany and Austria-Hungary still in place? If so, there's a whole new can of worms that needs opening.

"Dual Alliance between Germany and Austria-Hungary from October 7, 1879
Secret Treaty, Partial Publication in the Reichs- und Staatsanzeiger on February 3, 1888

[ . . . ]

Article I. Should, contrary to their hope, and against the loyal desire of the two high contracting parties, one of the two empires be attacked by Russia, the high contracting parties are bound to come to the assistance one of the other with the whole war strength of their empires, and accordingly only to conclude peace together and upon mutual agreement.

[ . . . ] "

See http://germanhistorydocs.ghi-dc.org/...cument_id=1856

[carlton_bach]

Originally Posted by Hoyahoo9

Carlton, I've been so very much enjoying this TL and your excellent writing. Thank you, and keep up the great work.

I'm emerging from my usual lurkerdom because something just occurred to me - - Did I miss some key event in an early post that significantly changed things, or is the pre-POD Treaty of Dual Alliance between Germany and Austria-Hungary still in place? If so, there's a whole new can of worms that needs opening.

"Dual Alliance between Germany and Austria-Hungary from October 7, 1879
Secret Treaty, Partial Publication in the Reichs- und Staatsanzeiger on February 3, 1888

[ . . . ]

Article I. Should, contrary to their hope, and against the loyal desire of the two high contracting parties, one of the two empires be attacked by Russia, the high contracting parties are bound to come to the assistance one of the other with the whole war strength of their empires, and accordingly only to conclude peace together and upon mutual agreement.

[ . . . ] "

See http://germanhistorydocs.ghi-dc.org/...cument_id=1856

The Alliance is still in place. I haven't gotten around to writing that part yet - the Russians are trying to bribe Franz Joseph into breaking it, but he won't. The problem he is facing is unpreparedness, though, and the Russians have two armies on his borders, one of them unbled. It's going to get worse before it gets better.

[Faeelin]

I am shocked at the sudden expertise the Russians found, given its lack in the Russo-Japanese War.

[Vnix]

the western troops from russia were the creme de la creme

[carlton_bach]

Originally Posted by Faeelin

I am shocked at the sudden expertise the Russians found, given its lack in the Russo-Japanese War.

They aren't all that good. But their navy has just lost a lot of deadwood, and the enemy is badly wrongfooted. Kolchak, for all his flaws, was a very smart leader, and not the only one (Kolchak is really running the show at Heligoland, Ludendorff to Essen's Hindenburg). The army is just doing its job, nothing out of the ordinary there. It's not like they've met any real opposition yet.

[Caoster]

Minor nit. These are coal fired ships, not oil fired. The water around freidrich would be soot stained, not oil.

[Caoster]

Also, What class of ships are thse battleships supposed to represent?

[carlton_bach]

Originally Posted by Caoster

Minor nit. These are coal fired ships, not oil fired. The water around freidrich would be soot stained, not oil.

Does coal dust float up? I was assuming lubricant and debris. What does it look like when a coal-fired ship goes down?

And I'm going on the assumption that they are similar to, but not exactly like, the vessels the German navy had in 1906. The old ones (Aegir, Odin, Hagen, Heimdall, Beowulf and Siegfried) are as per OTL, the later ones fall into two classes (Bayern, Hessen, Sachsen, Mecklenburg, Baden are the newer ones finished between 1900 and 1903, Friedrich Barbarossa, Heinrich I, Wilhelm I and Otto der Große were the ones they worked out the kinks with in the late 1890s). I'm taking most relevant data from Weyrichs Flottenkalender of 1905.

[Syphon]

Originally Posted by carlton_bach

Does coal dust float up? I was assuming lubricant and debris. What does it look like when a coal-fired ship goes down?

CB,
Coal and coke float but the latter is much better at it as it contains far less water.
As a child I used to remember walking through the sea grass collecting coke dumped from ships for use in our BBQ.
Oh the bloody stuff can last a long time before breaking down.
The last coal fired ship must have stopped being used forty years before my childhood coke collecting expeditions.
Even now another thirty years on if you dig deep enough you can still find buried coke.

To answer your question it would probably resemble black and grey floatsom depending on the type of coal used.

More please.

I want to see the Empire Strike Back.

Sorry I just couldn't help myself I just had to use that phrase in the correct context.

[Paul MacQ]

Is holding breathe waiting for the Reactions of UK, Ottomans and AH now.

France looks like it will be a knife edge decision. If/when UK sides with Germany I think would be the deciding factor. What happens first the French finding that Britain would support Germany or the French making up there mind what to do.

I can see in the back of there minds " Oh Britain is going to declare war on Russia..... Czar we are friends but not that close sorry this round we are too busy "

[carlton_bach]

19 June 1906, Vienna

The Habsburgs knew how to do pomp and circumstance, Major-General Maximilan von Baden thought as he walked down the great corridor of the Hofburg. In Berlin, some assessor or officer with a dispatch case would have met him along the way. Here, it was silent, liveried servants opening doors with quiet, assiduous efficiency. In the year or so after he had replaced Carl von Wedel as ambassador, he had been to a few audiences and court functions, but today's summons was different. Emperor Franz Joseph wanted to impress. Everything about the occasion screamed importance. It was enough to leave a lasting mark even on the scion of a ruling house.

The situation was, of course, unpleasant. The imperial government still had not given its response to the Russian declaration of war on Germany. The emperor had returned from his hunting trip early, and had met the Russian ambassador the same evening. Von Baden had cabled Berlin for instructions and received – nothing. Two pages of nothing, to be sure, but nothing of substance. He would have to wing it.

The emperor waited for his visitor in the office, seated behind a rococo desk. That was something he had in common with Wilhelm, the ambassador thought: they drowned in paperwork. Franz joseph was famous for his regular working habits, though, a man who took regularity to extremes. Wilhelm was – had been? - famously unpredictable in his hours. Von Baden suspected that it was simply a matter of age. Approaching his fourties, he understood that younger men felt fewer physical limitations. But he appreciated the Austrian style. As he was ushered in, the emperor rose and came forward to meet him with a quick embrace and handshake. That was unusual. He had been selected partly because he was of a rank to interact freely with Europe's most senior nobility, but it was rarely this free. Symbolic gestures meant something in Vienna. The ambassador took heart.

“Your Excellency,” the emperor addressed him with quiet informality, “I have called you to discuss a matter of the greatest importance.”

“Your Majesty, I appreciate your directness.” the younger man answered.

“Yesterday, I was presented with a diplomatic note from the Russian government. Emperor Nicholas II requested the neutrality of Austria-Hungary in the war he was declaring on Germany. I will spare you the justifications laid out in tedious detail, but in it, he promises me his neutrality in our dispute with Serbia and his acquiescence in a future annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina. The prospect of good relations he holds out was painted in the most enticing colours.”

Ambassador von Baden felt his heart skip a beat. This was the real thing. Diplomacy of the kind you read about in history books. The thing that had made Talleyrand and Bismarck names to remember. His mouth temporarily dry, he frantically searched for the right words. What do you say in the face of such an admission? What could he reasonably offer that he had any authority to give? The rising panic must have been visible in his eyes. Franz Joseph made a small, soothing gesture with his right hand as he continued.

“I am sure you understand that I will categorically have to reject this offer. Even if I could believe it was made in honest intent, it would not be possible to embrace this stance with honour.”

Von Baden felt overwhelmed by the surge of emotions. History unfolded before his eyes. as a progressive and a German, he had often disagreed thoroughly wqith the way the Austrians did things, but he had always felt a degree of affection for the empire. Germany's firmest ally, he thought. A friend in need.

“You Majesty, Germany will not forget that she found you at her side in her hour of need!”, he said, looking for better than platitudes and coming up empty.

Franz Joseph waved his words aside. “There are some practical aspects that will have to be considered. The first is the most obvious: my armies are unprepared. The Russians are not. As of today, the mobilisation of the combined forces is at best rudimentary, that of the Landwehr and Honved nonexistent. A declaration of war on Russia, much as it would satisfy the demands of honour, would be unwise.”

It made sense, of course. The ambassador was a military man by training and understood the realities of the situation. Germany's own position was hardly enviable. He nodded. “Naturally, your Majesty. What do you propose?”

“We will begin to mobilise immediately.”, Franz Joseph explained. “The general staff has drawn up plans that should make it possible to deploy our forces as soon as possible. A few days of uncertainty on the part of Nicholas may help us.”

Quick calculations flew through the ambassador's head. As far as he was aware, the Russians had only one army on the border with Austria-hungary, but of course, one army against only unprepared troops was still going to cause considerable damage. And there was Serbia to consider. The Serbians were just not rational. If this worked...

“Your Majesty, I will immediately inform my government of this development by secure channels.”

“Thank you, ambassador.” The emperor nodded. “In order to coordinate our efforts, and because we may be able to provide mutually beneficial assistance, it is best for our militaries to begin communicating effectivelyas soon as possible. To that end, my general staff has seconded two men whom I would request you provide passports for and have travel with your courier to berlin. They are Colonel Sembarth of the general staff and Major Redl of military intelligence.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Their papers will be issued immediately.”

[kalamona]

Wahhahahahahhhh


Ohm the irony, kills me... arrrgh....