Naval Adventures!

I was reading about some of the battleship programs that were cancelled because of WW1 and I had the idea to write up alternate naval battles. I've got a few ideas kicking around for more but I'll wait and see how this one goes first. I apologize in advance for the wall of text, I do have images but I'm having trouble getting them to show up. When I do I'll edit them into the post. So without further ado....





The battlecruiser SMS Mackensen rocked as a shell tore into her. The heavy round ripped through Mackensen’s side armor to detonate just behind sparking secondary explosions and igniting several tons of coal which had been stored in the compartment behind the ships 12 inch armor plating. This was a feature of which the damage control teams were most definitely not fans. Below decks men raced through a world of darkness and smoke, desperately trying to ascertain the extent of the damage done to their charge. A man, his face smeared with soot and running with sweat sprinted up to Lieutenant Schaer
“Sir, the coal’s burning on this side too! We aren’t sure how far it’s spread yet but the fire’s big.” As the man coughed out his report there was a boom and the ship rocked again. Less violently this time but still enough to knock men from their feet and send one mechanic crashing into the mass of pipes he was working on. His nearest comrade grabbed the man by the arm and hauled him to his feet, blood dripping from both nostrils. Without words the nameless mechanic resumed his task.
“Secondary explosion.” spat Schaer. He thought for a moment, weighing his options. “Flood all of the burning compartments and make sure the fire doesn’t spread to any of the other bunkers. Flood the whole fucking ship if you have to.”
“Aye, sir”
Schaer turned and started to climb up the stairway to his back only to be unceremoniously shoved out of the way by two sailors rushing a heavy toolbox down the stars. In normal circumstances that would have been worth a spell in the brig but there was a popular saying among the younger officers of the fleet. “Under fire, the mechanic outranks everyone.”
Mackensen was most certainly under fire. That much was obvious when Schaer stepped out of the top of the stairway and onto a walkway that led past the aft funnel towards the bridge. Schaer paused and gazed at the sea behind the battlecruiser. His gaze passed over the wreck of a 5.9 inch gun, the gun had been shorn from it’s mounting on one side and hung crazily from one side it’s base pointed into the remnants of it’s casemate. The remnants of it’s crew formed a puddle around the base.
Schaer lingered for a moment and turned away. As he took a step the world was replaced by a flash of light, and heat, and noise, and then all was darkness.
Schaer had chosen a poor moment to emerge on deck. At that same moment as 13.4 inch, 1300 lb, high explosive shell crashed into the funnel seven feet above the walkway Lieutenant Schaer had just started across. The lump of metal and explosive punched through the skin of the funnel, the thin sheet of gray steel barely provided enough resistance to trigger the detonator in the nose of the incoming shell. The resulting explosion completely wrecked Mackensen’s funnel, blowing a twelve foot hole in it’s side. This weakened the entire structure combined with the shock of the explosion toppled the remains of the funnel. Smoke billowed up around the wreckage of twisted metal.

12,000 meters distant from Mackensen was the French battlecruiser Aquitaine. Aquitaine was southwest of Mackensen but at 27 knots she was holding the range. A plume of water burst form the sea less that 10 meters from Aquitaine’s side, the jet a water rising up until it was of a height with the bridge. The spray mixed with cordite smoke to form a dense fog which temporarily shielded Mackensen from view. Captain Murand watched form Aquitaine’s armored conning tower as his ships forward turret belched forth a salvo. The four guns fired in quick succession first the far right, then the far left, then the inner right and lastly the inner left gun. The four 13.4 inch rifles hurled their deadly challenges at Mackensen. The shells following graceful ballistic arcs that took the shells hurtling through a wisp of cloud after which they nosed over and began the second half of their short flights. Three of the rounds landed in the sea. One did not. The fourth round hit Mackensen squarely on her stern. The armor piercing shell punched cleanly through the light 4 inches of armor over that section of hull and buried itself in the bowels of the ship where it detonated with sufficient force to rip a 10 foot hole in the stern deck and bulge the hull outwards in the surrounding area.
The aft most turret replied in kind to Aquitaine, the deep roar of its 13.8 inch guns a counterpoint to the higher bark of the secondary 5.9s. Just as the symphony of guns filled the air with ear splitting cracks and deep resonant booms so to did the fall of their shot fill the sea around the two ships. While the big main guns sought death blows the secondaries attempted to wreck their opponents topside. In this rate of fire was of greater importance than accuracy so while the main guns took what seemed a ponderously slow time between shots the light guns fired once every few seconds.

Captain Hetter was worried for his ship. Mackensen was the youngest ship in the Kaiser’s navy and from the look of things she would soon be its youngest casualty as well. She was holed beneath the waterline in at least one place and possibly two, there had been a very worrying fire in one of her outer coal bunkers that had only been put out when they flooded the compartment, her rear funnel had been downed and the same shell that had done that had taken several boilers off line. It was the boilers that most concerned him. His ship was one of the toughest battlecruisers afloat and could shake off most of the damage without cause for concern. At the moment though Hetter would gladly have traded his ships armor for more speed. As it was the damaged boilers meant Mackensen was only able to make 26 knots. The 1 knot advantage this handed to the French would enable them to close the distance between themselves and Mackensen. Under normal circumstances this would not have been and issue, Mackensen was much more heavily armored then her French counterpart. The two French ships in the distance were what made it an issue. Picardie and Champagne were Aquitaine’s younger and, if rumor was to be believed, improved sisters. If any of the French battlecruisers had been on their own Hetter would have turned to meet them. All three though, his ship had no chance against all three opponents. So he had run, and now it was looking like he could not run much longer. Night thought Hetter, Picardie and Champagne wouldn’t catch him before nightfall and if he could hold off Aquitaine they could lose the French under cover of darkness. Then they could double back around and make a run for the Channel at high speed. The Chief Engineer had told him that Mackensen could make 28 knots if she had to but eventually that would wreck the bodged engine repairs and after that Mackensen would be lucky to make 12 knots. Hetter was shaken from his contemplation by the deep thud of one of the main guns firing. The gun in question was in the left mounting of the aft superfiring turret and the shell it had just loosed flew at Aquitaine, hitting her forward turret just to the left of the central bulkhead. As it happened this particular spot had already been weakened by a previous impact earlier in the engagement. When the heavy armor piercing shell hit the metal gave way beneath it and allowing the shell to continue into the turret itself where it exploded, setting of the stock of ready-to-use ammunition and propellant bags. The resulting detonation ripped the entire turret from its mounting, in the process bursting the armored side like a balloon.
When the smoke cleared it was plain to all and sundry that Aquitaine was out of the fight. The turret had ended up on it’s side in the hole was the entire remains of the original mounting.
Hetter watched as Aquitaine turned away and retreated towards her advancing brethren. He sent up a silent prayer to any god who might be listening. He now had the reprieve Mackensen needed. Automatically, Hetter ordered subordinates to ensure the remaining daylight was used to repair the worst of the damage and, critically, douse any fires which might give away their position at night. There was a brief flurry of activity as the bridge emptied of officers hurrying to see to their tasks. Hetter closed his eyes and allowed himself a precious moment of rest. His ship and his crew were largely intact and they had escaped from the jaws of the enemy. For now.

I was reading about some of the battleship programs that were cancelled because of WW1 and I had the idea to write up alternate naval battles.

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I have a fascination for battleships and I think it would be nice to write naval battles just for the fun of it, somewhat handwaving away context and that pesky Washington naval treaty. That wouldn't be realistic, just fun...

I'm not sure coal burns to such a great degree as you suggest. Certainly coal dust can ignite, but you are making the lit coal sound as it is burning oil.

Archibald said:

I have a fascination for battleships and I think it would be nice to write naval battles just for the fun of it, somewhat handwaving away context and that pesky Washington naval treaty. That wouldn't be realistic, just fun...

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Exactly! That's what I was going for with this thread. I like to think that I'm giving these ships that were never built a chance at the life they never had. Sort of make the ship itself the protagonist.

I'm not sure coal burns to such a great degree as you suggest. Certainly coal dust can ignite, but you are making the lit coal sound as it is burning oil.

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I can easily fix that if you think I should. Mackensen was designed to have oil fueled boilers as well as coal so the shell could hit an oil bunker instead. Or I could just re-write it to be less severe.

Darn good start! I look forwards to seeing more!

Well I was inspired to write the second part to Mackensen's story today. I'm a lot less familiar with submarines than surface ships so if there's anything you think I've portrayed unrealistically please mention it. I'm also thinking about what to write next. I'm leaning towards something with the South American navies but suggestions are welcome.







The submarine Curie slid effortlessly below the smooth, black waters of the English Channel as she stalked her prey. Hull submerged, only the ship’s periscope breached the surface. The periscope turned slightly, following a hulking black shape that was charging through waters just off of the British coast. She loomed out of the darkness, visible only by the white froth of her breaking bow wave and wake and by the stars that vanished as she passed.
Curie had sighted the ship an hour previous. When the lookout had called below that he was seeing a shape approaching from the west he had been met with disbelief. Captain Jaune had gone up on deck to see for himself before he believed the lookout. Somehow, the Mackensen had dodged the Channel Fleet and passed virtually the entire length of the Channel without detection.
In the hull of Curie, watching Mackensen through the periscope’s view port, Jaune marveled once more at his incredible luck. His station at the eastern mouth of the Channel had been intended to keep him as far away from the action when Mackensen was found as possible. No one had admitted it but Jaune knew that you didn’t spill a glass of punch on an admiral’s wife and get away with it. At the time he had simply been grateful that he still had a command at all. If truth be told Jaune had been expecting a dead-end posting as the naval attache to Bolivia or some other equally grim place.
Jaune blinked and turned away from his thoughts.
“Bring us to the surface and load all of the tubes.” he said. Jaune wanted Curie to be ready to fire the instant she was in position. He turned back to the periscope as subordinates attended to the business of raising Curie from the inky depths. Soon Jaune felt the familiar surging sensation in his gut that heralded Curie’s having begun to rise. The ship was at a relatively shallow depth so the process was soon over and crewmen scrambled over the submarine’s slippery hull, thankful for the balmy July night. The ship hummed to the staccato rhythm of Curie’s 6-cylinder diesel engine. When submerged Curie relied on twin electric motors but surfaced her diesel engine could be engaged to propel her at 13 knots. Speed she was making good use of now as the submarine closed with Mackensen on a course that would put the great battle cruiser squarely in the line of Curie’s torpedoes.
For Jaune the battlecruiser’s speed seemed positively glacial despite his officer’s estimate of 28 knots. Eventually though the German battlecruiser entered within range of Curie’s torpedos.
“Are you sure?” Jaune had asked when the announcement came through.
“Oui.” replied the officer responsible for the calculations. His voice was calm and steely and it reassured Jaune even though its owner could not have been older than 20. Quickly, Jaune kissed the crucifix around his neck.
“Fire.” he said. At that command all seven 17.7 inch torpedoes that Curie was capable of firing were launched. One was a dud and travelled a mere 30 feet before its engine cut out and the weapon sank. Another’s gyroscope was damaged and the torpedo curved out in a gentle circle, away from both submarine and battlecruiser. The remaining five torpedoes streaked through the water, strings of bubbles marking their course.

Mackensen shuddered as two 2200 lb torpedoes hit almost simultaneously, impacting the hull a quarter of a length from bow. The explosion of 640 lb of TNT ripped through the ship’s hull, peeling back sections of metal and opening Mackensen’s bowels to thousands of gallons of seawater which poured in through the gash in the battlecruiser’s side. The third torpedo had been launched almost a second later by its crew and as a result almost missed Mackensen entirely. Unfortunately for the German warship the torpedo instead hit squarely on the propellers, ripping the farthest to starboard from its shaft and mangling the other three so badly as to be useless hunks of bronze alloy still spinning lopsidedly. The shockwave bent the unarmored stern in on itself, popping rivets, tearing plates and causing innumerable small leaks though fortunately few serious ones.
On the bridge Captain Hetter was already barking orders, telling people to close watertight doors, get the searchlights on to find their attacker, check the extent of the damage, and start counter flooding. He was about to send someone for the Chief Engineer when the man himself entered the bridge, oil and lubricant on his hands and face and one half of his mustache slumped in defeat.
“How bad? asked Hetter
“Bad. We’re dead in the water.” Hetter had expected it to be grim but not that grim.
“Is it beyond repair?”
“Completely. The engines we had to repair off A Coruna are wrecked. The blast shifted them out of alignment and they tore themselves apart. We might be able to fix the others but it wouldn’t matter. The propellers are gone. Useless. One’s been blown off entirely.” the Chief Engineer’s tone brooked no doubt. Hetter turned to the nearest Lieutenant and said
“Order the men to lay scuttling charges and prepare to abandon ship.”
“Yes, sir” when the man had gone Hetter took an embossed silver cigar tin out of a pocket in his uniform and opened it. Inside were two prime Cuban cigars. He offered it to the Chief Engineer. The two of them sat and smoked while below them damage control teams worked to control the water flooding into Mackensen. They were no longer trying to save the ship, just delay the inevitable long enough to evacuate the ship. Once it had been determined that the ship was out of immediate danger work changed to planting the scuttling charges that would send Mackensen to the bottom once her crew were safely away.

The reaction aboard Curie was nothing short of euphoric. After firing her compliment of torpedoes, the submarine had submerged herself once more to avoid Mackensen’s questing searchlights. Curie had remained to watch the battlecruiser ordered by Normandie to linger as long as fuel permitted or until the Channel Fleet arrived. Jaune had posted a man to the periscope and he was calling out what was happening to Mackensen. The crew of Curie rose in a cheer that turned into a recitation of the Marseillaise when they heard that Mackensen was launching her lifeboats.
As his boat rowed away Hetter thought back to the journey he’d had on Mackensen. To the pair of cruisers they had sunk off Recife and the merchantmen they had attacked across the South Atlantic. To the squadron of old French battleships they had outrun off of Portugal and to their detour into the Bay of Biscay to bombard French towns in Gascony before their flight from the French battlecruisers. Through a combination of cunning and extraordinary luck they had evaded the enemy from the coast of Brazil to the English Channel. No one was like to forget their story.

The plan had been to scuttle Mackensen so that she capsized first and sank with her hull up but in the end, Mackensen sank by her stern, bow pointed into the air and flag still flying. It was a remarkably obscene gesture reflected Hetter as his small flotilla of boats pulled away. But fitting all the same for a ship that had defied the odds for the duration of her short career. Defiant to the last thought Hetter.







*It’s amazing how hard it is to find information about French WW1 submarines and torpedoes. The 17.7 inch diameter is right but I’ve used the weights of torpedo and explosive from the French 1912 torpedo that was used only in destroyers and capital ships. I also don’t know if the torpedoes were powerful enough to cause the damage I’ve portrayed but I think that falls within the bounds of artistic license.

Nothing At All?

Thoughts? Anyone?

I'm going to assume that this is at least good for entertainment value and continue unless I hear otherwise.

Is this just World War I or are you also going to include some of the classes that were cancelled in the 1920s like the US South Dakota class?

Zheng He said:

Is this just World War I or are you also going to include some of the classes that were cancelled in the 1920s like the US South Dakota class?

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I'll definitely include some of the ships that were killed in the '20's but probably not until I have time to do more research. I don't know nearly enough about them to do it properly yet so for the moment it'll be World War 1.

David S Poepoe said:

I'm not sure coal burns to such a great degree as you suggest. Certainly coal dust can ignite, but you are making the lit coal sound as it is burning oil.

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Dave a few years back there was documentary about the sinking of the U.S.S Maine. The theory was that a coal fire got so hot it set off the ships main magazine . Regards Warlock

Captain Jack said:

Exactly! That's what I was going for with this thread. I like to think that I'm giving these ships that were never built a chance at the life they never had. Sort of make the ship itself the protagonist.

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I was considering doing that once with tanks. I'll watch this thread, keeping in mind your writing style seeing how I could adapt it to my own projects.

warlock said:

Dave a few years back there was documentary about the sinking of the U.S.S Maine. The theory was that a coal fire got so hot it set off the ships main magazine . Regards Warlock

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I'm familiar with that. I think the Rickover Committee suggested that it was combustion of coal dust, which may also have played a part in the loss of the RMS Britannic. HMS Glatton during the Great War was lost thru the same means that you are describing.

Captain Jack said:

I'll definitely include some of the ships that were killed in the '20's but probably not until I have time to do more research. I don't know nearly enough about them to do it properly yet so for the moment it'll be World War 1.

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This is a cool ATL you are running and I hope you have a chance to get into working with some of the classes that were cancelled due to post World War I naval disarmament treaties.

Captain Jack said:

I'm a lot less familiar with submarines than surface ships so if there's anything you think I've portrayed unrealistically please mention it.

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Not unrealistic, but lacking detail enough to judge IMO. What range did Jaune detect Mackensen? It appears she was spotted by periscope observation; if so, IMO, she'd have to be pretty close, which means closing range on the surface would be both difficult (due to the speed differential) & hazardous. If otherwise, why is Curie dived?

The detection range matters for how well, or if, Curie can close the range to engage. She'd have to be mighty close to engage, with WW1-era torpedoes.

You don't mention if Mackensen is zigzagging, which makes the firing solution harder; in WWI, maybe not an issue. (You actually describe almost nothing about actually attaining the firing solution, which makes judging the situation hard.) IMO, getting more than one hit, firing just by eye, is more than you can hope for, unless Curie is very close indeed.

A lucky hit "bang on the propellers" is very unlikely... Shots hitting under her stacks or turrets are more likely; a lucky shot in a magazine, maybe? If not, even a couple of hits in that era, with less torpedo protection, would be enough to sink Mackensen.

Its bloody good stuff! Well written, researched and a joy to read. I want to know whats going on in this world

A 13.8 inch shell fired by SMS Hunyadi plunged into Izmail’s B turret. The 1500 lb shell collided with the heavy 11.8 inch armor on the turrets face, the force of the collision was conducted up through the nose of the shell where it reached the detonator. Under normal circumstances that would have tripped the detonator and ignited the shell. In this particular shell though a mistake had been made in the manufacture of its detonator and so instead of detonating the shell, the device cracked and broke. Though reduced to a simple slug the shell was still able to tear through the armored face of Izmail’s turret. The slug passed through the wall and into the body of the turret where it hit the breach of the left 14 inch rifle, shattering both shell and breach. Chunks of hot metal flew about the interior of the turret, tearing through men and metal alike.
Inside the forward conning tower, Admiral Volkov ground his teeth in frustration. An aide had just informed him of the damage to the stern turret. Shrapnel had felled most of the gun crew and ignited a bag of propellant though fortunately the fire had not spread and the magazine was safe. None of that changed the fact that the turret was out of commission though. Volkov sighed. Losing three of his guns was the last thing he needed just now. The Austrians were fighting like men possessed and despite being outnumbered were getting the better of the battle. Ensconced in Izmail’s forward conning tower, Volkov was unable to see the line of battleships stretching behind him but his aides kept the admiral appraised of the battle. So far it seemed that the Austrians had saved a special fury for their turncoat brethren. The Szent Istvan especially was in a bad way. Mobbed by the 12 and 6 inch guns of her sisters Tegetthoff and Viribus Unitis, her superstructure was so much swiss cheese; the result of the quick-firing 6 inch guns. Smoke poured up through the twisted metal from rents in her funnels, the aft of which was kinked and bent over the ship’s deck; felled by a high explosive round from Tegetthoff’s rear turret. It made for an absurdly jaunty site. The tube of wreathed as it was by cordite and coal smoke. It was clear to Volkov from the reports coming in that Szent Istvan did not have long left to live. Several of her guns had been silenced and the smoke from the boilers was building up, choking the engines in their own vapors. It was a minor miracle she was still afloat at all really.


SMS Tegetthoff upon completion of her acceptance trials

The Hungarians are going to be furious thought Volkov. There was a certain black humor to that considering the inordinate amount of trouble Volkov had been forced to go to to secure use of the two ships. Ever since Szent Istvan and Graf Daun had fled Pola and renounced the emperor the Hungarians had refused to risk them in combat. Budapest it seemed, valued the ships more as a symbol than a weapon. It was only when the Austrians sortied and Volkov’s force found itself outnumbered that Szent Istvan and Graf Daun had been released for use with the fleet. The situation should never have been allowed to reach that point. The French had promised him three of the Courbets and the Lorraine to ensure superiority over the Austrians. Those ships had been delayed by the hunt for the Mackensen and had only just passed Gibraltar when Volkov set out to meet the Austrians so his force consisted of only Izmail, Navarin, Imperatritsa Mariya, and the two Hungarians.

Navarin’s bow turret fired, hurling three 14 inch shells up into the sky. The shells zoomed upwards toward the low cloud cover. On their way they passed through a patch of rain, leaving a brief puff of steam in their wake. The shell cut into the cloud, nosed over, and began their ballistic descent. Far beneath them lay SMS Monarch,her grey metal a stark contrast to the bright blue of the Adriatic. One shell landed in the crest of a wave. The force of the shell breaking through the surface tension of the water tripped the shell’s detonator. The shell exploded, blowing a column of water up into the sky where it hang for a second before falling harmlessly back down to soak the rear of Monarch’s superstructure. Navarin’s other two shells struck home, one hit alongside Monarch’s bridge where it exploded, blowing away the light unshielded 4 inch gun positions. The last shell hit the fire-director’s position on he mainmast, destroying the nest.


An artists conception of the SMS Hunyadi. The image was used to advertise the subscription sold by the government to finance the class.

Imperatritsa Mariya fired a salvo. Twelve 12 inch guns roared, spitting shells and smoke at the SMS Hunyadi. Most missed but two hit, punching through Hunyadi’s armor and tearing the ships hull but doing no significant damage. Hunyadi responded with a broadside of 10 guns that did only minor damage to the Mariya. The duel between the two battleships had quickly descended into a slugging match. So far Mariya’s more numerous broadside had proved more effective. Hunyadi was down a turret, her aft twin. The turret’s loading mechanism had been jammed by a shell that had penetrated the 2.8 inch armored deck. A similar hit had ignited fires and filled the 5.9 inch casemates with smoke asphyxiating some of the crews and forcing the rest to be evacuated.

Hunyadi’s forward triple turret fired. Three 13.8 inch rounds shot out of their barrels towards the Mariya. The middle and right shells hit the heavy waterline belt. One exploded immediately, tearing up the lighter bow armor. The other punched through and exploded internally, ripping a large hole in the Mariya’s side. The last shell, the one fired by the left gun, came in at a steeper angle than its companions. As a result it came down onto the thin deck armor. The shell penetrated the armor and exploded, blowing the tip of Mariya’s bow completely off and sending shrapnel through the unarmored internal bulkheads.


Imperatritsa Mariya leading the Black Sea Fleet before her redeployment to the Mediterranean.

As Mariya’s captain directed his men to check that the wound to her bow had not damaged the ship structurally, Tegetthoff fired a salvo at the battered Szent Istvan. One shell, fired from Tegetthoff’s rear super-firing turret found its way into one of Szent Istvan’s 12 inch magazines. The shell had hit a piece of deck armor that had been weakened and buckled by a previous hit. The armor had given way and permitted the hostile shell into Szent Istvan. Inside the magazine Tegetthoff’s shell exploded, triggering sympathetic detonations from the ammunition stored there. The resultant explosion gutted a portion of Szent Istvan’s hull and broke the her spine, pulling plates away from each other. and opening a series of leaks along the bottom of the hull. Flame and smoke streamed up out of rents in the deck. The sound of the explosion was such that every eye in the two fleets turned to look and damage control teams in the bowels of various ships began to search frantically for non-existent damage.
It was clear to all that Szent Istvan was doomed. Indeed she was already listing and her midsection was perceptibly lower in the water then her ends.

“Which ship was that?!” shouted Volkov.
“Szent Istvan!” someone replied.
“What is her condition?” Volkov hated not being able to see the rest of the fleet from his position in the conning tower.
“She’s sinking.” Volkov chewed his lip, thinking. With Szent Istvan gone his rear was vulnerable. Tegetthoff would be unengaged and able direct her fire onto Graf Daun. There was no sense in taking more damage now. He was reasonably confident that they’d done enough damage to keep the Austrians in port for awhile and he needed to preserve the fleet so it could meet up with the French. He didn’t like it but it needed to be done.
“Signal the fleet, all ships to disengage and retire to the southwest at 21 knots.” men scurried to execute the admiral’s orders. Izmail began its turn Volkov was relieved to see that the Austrians were not turning to match. As the two fleets parted Volkov turned to watch the Austrians until they disappeared behind Izmail’s superstructure and he could see them no longer.

Note: I've made up the names of the Ersatz Monarchs based on the suggestions at ViribusUnitis.com. I've also invented the name Admiral Volkov because it sounds stereotypically Russian. I don't think anyone will mind.

Great stuff mate, a really descriptive and intense naval punch up, you'll have to tell us how this world came to be and what the RN is up to if anything or are we watching from the sidelines.

Britain and the RN is on the sidelines of the war. Which is why the French have their main battle fleet in the Channel and why the Russians have ships in the Med. I plan to reveal what the world looks like and how it came to be in bits and pieces through various POVs. I will say it's significant that the Austrians and Hungarians are on opposite sides of the battle though.

Very interesting and quite dangerious as the Channel was seen by us as our private reserve so if there was fighting in it you'd see ships deployed to observe and watch.

I let this sit unattended for much longer than I ever intended but school got int he way of writing updates for it. Happily I took advantage of the Christmas break to write up a bit. As always all comments and criticism is welcome. Enjoy.




Richelieu’s bow cleaved through the waves, raising a bow wave ahead of her as her engines thrummed and drove the ship through the cold Atlantic waters. The day had started clear and fair but by early afternoon a squall had begun to move in, lashing the the lookouts and sentries in the fighting tops. The ship’s captain was thankful for the squall as it had doused the ship in a mild haze. The haze cut visibility which in turn cut the range at which action could begin. That favored the French ship as it would negate the Germans’ advantage in possessing a longer maximum range for their main armament.

Looking out the windows of the bridge Captain Durand stared at the smear of black coal smoke approaching from the north. He raised his binoculars to his face, steadying it against the bridge of his nose to combat the heavy vibrations the engines produced when operating at full speed. Even with his vision so aided, Durand was unable to make out much apart from the general outline of the German ships, though visibility was noticeably better for the spotters in the tops. Still, it that was enough for him to make a tentative identification of the Germans. Echelon turrets added to single bow turrets told Durand that his opponents could be Von der Tann, Seydlitz, or one of the two Moltke-class. Either way that was promising. The German ships were armed with 11-inch guns while Richelieu wielded 13.4-inch rifles. As he thought through the various statistics an officer called out
“Range, 12,000 meters.”
“Guns, you may fire.” The order was relayed to Richelieu’s forward quadruple gun turret via several officers and a brass speaking tube. Upon receiving their instructions the turret’s four guns elevated and, on the command of the turret commander, fired. The guns operated in pairs, port and starboard, taking it in turn to fire so as to maximize the firing solutions tried and thereby speed the process of finding the correct solution to hit the enemy.


One of the quad turrets for Richelieu's sister Picardie under construction

The third salvo of the starboard pair of guns hit the rightmost, and further forward, of the German warships. The blow was heralded by a burst of yellow smoke that pierced through the haze of fog and coal smoke hanging above the German. On Richelieu’s bridge a cheer went up at the sight. Simultaneously, the bow turret’s port guns rose to match the angle of their twins. Already loaded, the guns had been about to fire when their brethren had scored. Consequently the guns paused in the firing position, waiting as the starboard guns dipped their muzzles into the loading position, presenting their breeches for the turret crews to ram home the 1,224 lbs. shell and the four 338 lbs. propellant bags. When that job was done and the breech blocks swung back into position and sealed, the guns raised to match the position of the port guns. All four guns aligned, the firing klaxon rang, alerting any inattentive crew members to the guns’ imminent firing. After the klaxon came the deep, base roar of the guns. The four shells sped from barrels and into the sky, close on their heels was a wave of cordite smoke that spilled out into the crisp Atlantic air, filling it with the characteristically pungent stench and depositing a thin coating of filth on the foredeck and turret face.

The four 13.4-inch shells traced smooth ballistic arcs through the hazy sky. Rising up from Richelieu and falling back down toward SMS Seydlitz. One shell plunged into the waters abeam the vessel’s aft conning tower. Another impacted the side armor at an extremely oblique angle, punching through the thin side plating until it reached the 3.9-inch armor belt. Contact with the armor plating triggered the French shell’s bursting charge which in turn detonated the main warhead. The force of the explosion was such that it ripped through the side of the ship, shredding the thin metal plates and blowing an 8 foot hole in Seydlitz’s side. Luckily the obliquity of the shell’s angle of impact meant that the vast majority of the explosion was directed out away from the interior of the ship. The remaining energy was still sufficient to peel back several plates of 3.9-inch armor. The damage to Seydlitz, though impressive to behold, was entirely superficial and did not impair the combat operation of the ship. The last two shells fell on the afterdeck. One slammed into the deck abeam Seydlitz ’s aft superfiring turret but the detonator charge failed to activate the warhead and the 49-inch long shell bounced up and away, tumbling through the air and into the turbulent water aft of the ship. The other shell, complete with fully functional detonator, punched through the upper deck and into the 1.2-inch main armor deck. The shell detonated between the main armor deck and the secondary 2.0-inch sloping deck, blowing a twelve foot hole through the deck, showering the aft turrets with splinters.


A picture of the damage to the afterdeck of SMS Seydlitz
Moments after the hit on Seydlitz’s after deck the ship’s fore-turret fired. The shells crashed into the waves around Richelieu. One to bow and the other to stern. The firing solution was accordingly adjusted and relayed to the echelon turrets both of which fired in sequence. The blast from the 11-inch guns splintered the fine wooden decking applied to Seydlitz, splinters raining back down through the clouds of cordite smoke. The wind was to the ship’s back and it combined with her forward motion to hold the smoke in place. A sort of permanent cloud of cordite smoke enveloped both wing turrets and that from the forward turret built up in front of the bridge, wrecking much of what little visibility remained what with the steadily building squall and masses of dark coal smoke mixing in the air. The officers on Seydlitz’s bridge could only hope that the spotting top would remain clear of smoke.

Four of the six shells Seydlitz had lobbed toward Richelieu landed harmlessly in the sea, blowing huge columns of foam into the sky. Two came close enough to drench the decks of the French ship with the water from their blasts. The other two shells found their mark in the Frenchman, one punching through the thin armor on the ship’s bow, the force of detonation blowing a small hole in the ship’s hull. The last German 11-inch shell hit the casemate of the port 5.5-inch battery. The hardened steel shell ripped through the casemate face and detonated within, instantly destroying all three guns and their crews. The ammunition and propellant stored with the guns was ignited by the blast, filling the remnants of the casemate with smoke, and the conflagration was only prevented from spreading by prompt and heroic work by French crewmen to extinguish the fires and isolate the magazine.


SMS Seydlitz firing her port echelon turret during gunnery practice before the war. Believed to be from 1915.


By this time Richelieu’s forward turret had reloaded and was preparing to fire. Once again the firing klaxon rang and once again four 13.4-inch shells streaked toward the enemy. Richelieu was concentrating her fire against Seydlitz, the starboard ship in the German formation from the French perspective, as hers was the only effective fire. SMS Goeben, the other German battlecruiser, appeared to be having significant trouble with her gunnery. None of her salvos had yet found their mark; or even come close for that matter. As it happened she had been in need of maintenance work to her boilers which had gone undone when the German battlecruisers sortied. This was further compounded by the very poor quality coal Goeben was burning. Together the copious clouds of thick black smoke combined with the extreme engine vibration to make the German gunners’ task virtually impossible. This was just as well for Richelieu as, engaged head on as they were, She was able to bring only the four guns of her forward turret to bare compared to the six guns each of Seydlitz and Goeben. The disparity in numbers rather nullifying the French advantage in gun calibre.


A colorized postcard of SMS Goeben

The two warships continued to steam closer, neither side doing anything more than minor damage. Aboard Seydlitz’s bridge Captain Egidy starred out at the approaching enemy. The only crack in his mask of stoicism was a slight twitching in the corner of his left eye.
“Range?” he barked out
“8000 meters.” came the reply. Fast and certain. The commander liked that. He expected his crew to anticipate the information he would ask for and have an answer prepared. Egidy paused before replying, waiting for the roar of the main guns to subside before issuing his orders.
“Signal Goeben, hard turn to port, 75 degrees. Seydlitz will turn first, Goeben to follow at reduced speed.” Silently his Chief Signal Officer hurried to his task. After several minutes he returned.
“Goeben has acknowledged the signal, sir.We’re ready to execute on your command”
“Good... Execute!” At the order the signal flew up Seydlitz’s mast, the square of fabric pulled taught by the wind. Simultaneously, her helmsman spun the wheel over hard. The ship responded promptly, heeling over as she plowed and arc through the waves, spray lashing her deck. Behind Seydlitz, Goeben had just begun to execute her maneuver, having reduced speed to only 22 knots her turn was much more gradual. Aboard Seydlitz Egidy turned to watch as Goeben finished her turn. He was glad to see that the distance between the two German ships has increased quite significantly as a result of the staggered turn. The radical maneuver had destroyed the firing solution of his main guns so they had returned to ranging shots, alternating between port and starboard guns. Even as the guns sought the range Egidy could see the Frenchman reacting the Germans’ turn. She had turned, even more severely than the Germans had, perhaps 100 degrees to the Germans’ 75, and now presented her broadside to Seydlitz. Indeed Captain Egidy could see the rear turrets rotating to bring his ship under their guns. As he watched Richelieu’s forward turret fired. The four muzzles flashed and belched clouds of smoke that swirled around the gun barrels as it the wind swept it from the ship’s foredeck and into the gulf between the dueling warships. Three of the shells landed in the waves around Seydlitz, one of them severing the signal lines as it passed above the ship’s deck. The last French shell slammed into the face of the starboard echelon turret near the junction of the turret house with the barbette and armored deck. The heavy armor plate defeated the hardened tip of the French armor piercing shell. Though the shell failed to penetrate, the explosion did buckle the armor plate and the shock destroyed several critical bearings in the turret training mechanism, crippling the turret’s ability to train and effectively removing it from action.

The rear, superfiring turrets fired a salvo. Eight 1224 lbs. 13.4-inch shells were flung toward the German warship by a torrent of superheated gasses that spilled forth from the muzzles of the 13.4 -inch rifles. As the shells sped through the haze a phenomenal cloud of smoke drifted over the stern of Richelieu, sullying her paintwork and brass name plate with a film of thick, oily soot. The salvo from Richelieu‘s rear guns dealt the first significant damage of the engagement with one of the shells plunging through the sea to hit Seydlitz below the waterline, ripping a huge hole in the hull and allowing hundreds of gallons of water to flood into the ship. Another shell blew the top half of the aft funnel to ribbons, spraying shrapnel across the decks and rear of the superstructure and toppling both of the boat handling cranes. Four shells, fired by the lower and aft-most of Richelieu’s turrets landed in a line stretching from just in front the rear polemast to the middle of the barbette beneath the aft superfiring turret. The rearmost of these shots sliced through the armor plate protecting the barbette and detonated within. The explosion gutted the interior, setting off the propellant in the ammunition hoists. The resulting gout of flame tore into the turret killing much of it’s crew outright and incapacitating most of the others. Below, the explosion was shielded from extending past the barbette into the magazine by the built in flash protection doors. The damage from the other three shells fired alongside was less dramatic but no less damaging. The shells tore into the deck on either side of the aft polemast detonating against the main deck of 12-inches of Krupp cemented armor. The combined explosion grossly deformed the deck, pushing it down in to the depths of the ship and tearing gashes in it in places. The resulting damage weakened the supporting members for the polemast which began to lean over the hole that had been ripped in the deck by the French shells.


A small sample of the damage done to SMS Seydlitz by the four french shells

A cheer went up on the bridge of Richelieu at the tremendous explosion they saw rip through their adversary. The intitial flash and burst of yellow smoke was quickly subsumed by a flood of dense, inky smoke pouring from the wounded section of the German warship. Captain Durand grinned as widely as any of the junior officers
“Shift the guns to local fire control, rapid fire over accurate.” he said to his Chief Gunnery Officer.
“Smother them in shells.”