Place In the Sun: What If Italy Joined the Central Powers? (1.0)

[DrakonFin]

Might be prudent to sell the Konigs/Kaisers to Sweden or Finland, instead of scrapping them.

Finland can't really do much with ships that big. Not only would it take up to half of the navy's likely (unmobilized) manpower just to crew a single battleship, they also would be well nigh unusable in most of the Finnish coastal sea area because their draft is over 9 metres. The OTL Finnish 1930s coastal defence ships had a c. 5 metre draft for a reason.

 

[Thomas_Wellesley]

Might be prudent to sell the Konigs/Kaisers to Sweden or Finland, instead of scrapping them.

Finland can't really do much with ships that big. Not only would it take up to half of the navy's likely (unmobilized) manpower just to crew a single battleship, they also would be well nigh unusable in most of the Finnish coastal sea area because their draft is over 9 metres. The OTL Finnish 1930s coastal defence ships had a c. 5 metre draft for a reason.

There are probably counties in South America that would like to get their hands on them - or closer to home, the Ottoman Empire might be tempted.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

I get the feeling the Americans and the Japanese are going to push for a clause banning the transfer or sale of excess capital ships to other nations. That means the British would just 'donate' their excess ships to the Dominions, and given the bad blood between Washington and London right now, no one in the former (or Tokyo, for that matter) wants to see either the Canadians, the Australians, or even the Kiwis sailing around with Iron Dukes or whatnot.

 

[Sarthak]

I get the feeling the Americans and the Japanese are going to push for a clause banning the transfer or sale of excess capital ships to other nations. That means the British would just 'donate' their excess ships to the Dominions, and given the bad blood between Washington and London right now, no one in the former (or Tokyo, for that matter) wants to see either the Canadians, the Australians, or even the Kiwis sailing around with Iron Dukes or whatnot.

before the statue of westminster, the dominions were basically like scotland today, highly autonomous, but still part of the overall government, with a small representation. By all legal rights and legally they are a part of Britain. Such a clause would not affect the dominions.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

before the statue of westminster, the dominions were basically like scotland today, highly autonomous, but still part of the overall government, with a small representation. By all legal rights and legally they are a part of Britain. Such a clause would not affect the dominions.

Oh I see. Thanks for the clarification.

But wouldn't that also mean the British can't transfer excess ships to the Dominions, as they legally are still part of the United Kingdom? If so, then there's no reason for the USA or Japan to put forward such a clause. That said, the British might put it forward instead, to keep the Germans from selling or transferring ships to Turkey or Sweden.

 

[Sarthak]

Oh I see. Thanks for the clarification.

But wouldn't that also mean the British can't transfer excess ships to the Dominions, as they legally are still part of the United Kingdom? If so, then there's no reason for the USA or Japan to put forward such a clause. That said, the British might put it forward instead, to keep the Germans from selling or transferring ships to Turkey or Sweden.

Britain can actually just transfer ships to the dominions and their navies by informing the Dominion government before hand, and can transfer as much ships as the dominions could handle. It was a benefit of the Dominion system pre-ww1. Britain really has nothing to fear from either the Turkish or Swedish navy. The Swedish navy was very professional and could fight above it's weight, but it was too small, and the Turkish navy had horrible sailor standards, horrible admirals, and almost all of their ships were old and decrepit. Britain would be more worried about the French, German, American, Italian and Japanese Navies.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Britain can actually just transfer ships to the dominions and their navies by informing the Dominion government before hand, and can transfer as much ships as the dominions could handle. It was a benefit of the Dominion system pre-ww1. Britain really has nothing to fear from either the Turkish or Swedish navy. The Swedish navy was very professional and could fight above it's weight, but it was too small, and the Turkish navy had horrible sailor standards, horrible admirals, and almost all of their ships were old and decrepit. Britain would be more worried about the French, German, American, Italian and Japanese Navies.

Well, if they did, the Americans are going to be looking at all those Dominions sailing their own battleships with a hard eye. Then again, I don't really think any of the Dominions apart from Canada and Australia could support multiple battleships. Maybe two or three, but almost certainly not the full five battleships I'd expect the Dominions would be allotted.

And speaking of the Swedes, if not battleships, then the Germans could supply them with U-Boats. Or even jointly-develop them; while Sweden might have no use for large, ocean-going U-Boats, small, fast, coastal U-Boats would be something they'd be very interested in.

 

[Belka DNW]

Might be prudent to sell the Konigs/Kaisers to Sweden or Finland, instead of scrapping them.

Why? There is the nassau and helgoland class to sell/scrap first

 

[Belka DNW]

Assuming a 15-10-5 arrangement of fleets, I presume the Americans and the Japanese will keep the following lineups of battleships.

USN

Nevada Class: Nevada, Oklahoma
Pennsylvania Class: Pennsylvania, Arizona
New Mexico Class: New Mexico, Mississippi, Idaho
Tennessee Class: Tennessee, California
Colorado Class: Colorado, Maryland, Washington, West Virginia
South Dakota Class: South Dakota, Montana

They'll also keep two theoretically-decommissioned battleships as training ships, probably the two New York Class: New York and Texas.

IJN

Kongou Class: Kongou, Haruna, Kirishima
Fusou Class: Fusou, Yamashiro
Ise Class: Ise, Hyuuga
Nagato Class: Nagato, Mutsu
Amagi Class: Amagi

They'll have one theoretically-decommissioned battleship as a training ship, which probably will be the last Kongou Class: Hiei.

Not too sure about Britain and Germany's lineups, due to the butterflies of Germany's Doolittle-esque victory at Jutland ITTL, along with the loss of the Queen Elizabeth to a U-Boat in the Mediterranean at the end of the war. At the very least, I presume Germany will only keep the Bayern Class Battleships from their wartime and pre-war fleet, and build modern battleships to fill their allotment of 10 battleships.

the germans probably are going to push for 15 battleships since they want to be seen as equals to the british.

4 Konig class: Konig, Grosser Kurfurst, Markgraf and Kronprinz
4 Bayern class: Bayern, Baden, Sachsen and Wuttemberg
4 L21 a class (I call it the Elsass class): Elsass, Lothringen, Preussen and Brandenburg
3 L20 e alpha class (I call it the Hessen class): Hessen, Mecklenburg and Zahringen

Maybe keep some of the Kaiser class as decommissioned training ship

fun fact Hiei basically became the emperor's yacht after the washington naval treaty while it's armor and armament were storaged in some warehouse just waiting to be used again.

 

[Thomas_Wellesley]

the germans probably are going to push for 15 battleships since they want to be seen as equals to the british.

4 Konig class: Konig, Grosser Kurfurst, Markgraf and Kronprinz
4 Bayern class: Bayern, Baden, Sachsen and Wuttemberg
4 L21 a class (I call it the Elsass class): Elsass, Lothringen, Preussen and Brandenburg
3 L20 e alpha class (I call it the Hessen class): Hessen, Mecklenburg and Zahringen

Maybe keep some of the Kaiser class as decommissioned training ship

That is a very pretty looking fleet

 

[wietze]

about butterflies flapping their wings
this one occured to me, with germany staying the center of scientific research, this chap may never move to north-america https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julius_Edgar_Lilienfeld
he thought up the transistor in 1925, and maybe ittl his ideas will get more attention early, it would mean a massive butterfly for germany.

 

[wietze]

sadly Fritz Haber ittl will still be slightly scarred by being involved in the development of chemical weapons, but hopefully far less than otl, since far less experiences. He is still going to get that Nobelprize for the Haber-Bosch process.
It will very soon start changing the world with its production of artificial fertiliser, and be the oh crap moment for britain ..... we can't (expletive) blockade their saltpetre anymore

 

[Belka DNW]

Where is Gunther Burstyn? Is he going to propose his idea (the Motorgeschutz) to the danubians and germans again? If yes maybe he could get support from the officers who want to avoid another stalemate in case of war.

(the vehicle in question)

 

[wietze]

Where is Gunther Burstyn? Is he going to propose his idea (the Motorgeschutz) to the danubians and germans again? If yes maybe he could get support from the officers who want to avoid another stalemate in case of war.
View attachment 621534
(the vehicle in question)

for a little better pic:

(both pics from wiki)

Also see german wiki

Burstyn-Motorgeschütz – Wikipedia

de.wikipedia.org

 

[Belka DNW]

Motorgeschutz vs Skoda who's gonna become the biggest tank manufacturer in Danubia?

 

[Belka DNW]

for a little better pic:

(both pics from wiki)

Also see german wiki

Burstyn-Motorgeschütz – Wikipedia

de.wikipedia.org

also D U C C

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Dropping Anchor
​

"If the German fleet becomes superior to ours, the German army can conquer this country!"
-Sir Edward Grey

"The spirit of Trafalgar is broken!"
-Kaiser Wilhelm II commenting on the naval situation in the wake of Jutland

"The fact remains that while Germany may be growing, and that while England and Japan remain allies, this country has nothing to fear. We have oceans separating us from Europe and could take on London, Ottawa, and Tokyo all at once. And who is to say we may not have to one day? I tell you, sir, if we may credit Mr. Wilson's administration with any one thing it is his great expansion of the fleet..."
-Secretary of the Navy Edward Benn to Charles Evans Hughes, 1920

Kaiser Wilhelm II had always loved the Kaiserliche Marine (1). For the German Empire, four decades old compared to Britain and France’s centuries of history, a powerful fleet offered the same prestige London and Paris had found in colonisation. Much of Germany’s prewar budget had gone to an arms race which saw the gap between the KLM and Royal Navy narrow considerably. While the KLM had few opportunities to wield its might on the waves before the war, its very existence boosted Berlin’s Great Power credentials and Kaiser Wilhelm II’s ego; the monarch lost few opportunities to remind the world the North Sea was no longer a British lake. Sir Edward Grey’s comment that “if the German fleet becomes superior to ours, the German army can conquer this country!” sums up Britain’s feelings on the matter. For all its might, the Royal Navy wasn’t omnipotent and needed to prioritise the threat from Kiel; thus naval arrangements were arranged with America and Japan.

Both sides went into the Great War eager to prove themselves on the waves…

... and both sides were disappointed.

Britannia had ruled the waves since Trafalgar and expected to ride roughshod over the KLM. German warships based in the Pacific eluded Britain’s net before handing them a humiliating defeat at Coronel in the South Atlantic. More embarrassment came when HMS Audacious, one of Britain’s largest dreadnoughts, was sunk not in a heroic fleet action but by a floating mine. Britain bungled what in retrospect was its last chance to turn the tide of the naval war at Dogger Bank in January 1915; Sir David Beatty inflicted losses on the foe but let the enemy slip through his fingers mostly intact. The wake of Dogger Bank saw the Germans remain concentrated en masse at home as a “fleet in being”- Britain couldn’t steam in and crush the Germans without sending much of the Home Fleet to the bottom. Faced with a long war, both sides turned to economic warfare on the waves: Britain sealed off the North Sea and by extension Germany from the rest of the world by blockade while the KLM invested in U-boats. Neither project looked likely to turn the war one way or the other, and naval enthusiasts resigned themselves to a war of trenches and stalemate.

Then Italy joined the Central Powers.

Italy’s declaration of war reached London and Paris on 24 May 1915, tilting the strategic situation in the Mediterranean against the Entente. German U-boats could operate out of Naples and Palermo, placing the Gibraltar-to-Cairo shipping lane- the jugular vein for British troops in Egypt- under grave threat and forcing the Admiralty to divert large numbers of destroyers to the Mediterranean. This weakened their ability to fight U-boats in the Atlantic. (2) The Regia Marina wasn’t especially large, but it tipped the scales just enough to keep the naval war at a stalemate throughout 1915 and 1916.

The German Navy sought to end that stalemate on 31 May 1916, several hundred miles off the Danish coast.

Fitting the Battle of Jutland into the war’s wider history has always proven problematic, for it was fought in isolation from events on the Continent. (3) When the High Seas Fleet left port on 31 May, Germany had already won- France lay broken and Britain had pulled its troops from the Continent. Some have speculated that inter-service rivalry played a part in the battle: surely the navy needed a triumph to match the one taking place on the plains of northern France? If that was what they were looking for, they were to be disappointed: the High Seas Fleet limped home with its tail between its legs and many of its crew lost in the deep blue. German historians pushed the theory that, although their country suffered a tactical defeat, they won a strategic victory. The High Seas Fleet had shown Britain it couldn’t win the naval war and thus ought to sue for peace. Had Britain not sued for an armistice days afterwards, naval historians and strategists would likely view Jutland differently. While it’s true that the morale blow caused by letting the Germans escape yet again no doubt influenced Britain to move for peace, postwar German thinkers overstated the importance of the battle in convincing Britain to throw in the towel while minimising the fact that the High Seas Fleet was defeated on the waves that day, and they drew the wrong tactical conclusions altogether.

What could be more glorious, they asked, than a modernised High Seas Fleet capable of standing toe-to-toe with the Royal Navy in a pitched battle?

Germany’s naval circles spent close to a year before and after the armistice in a heated debate over battlecruisers. The KLM had always taken this class of ship extremely seriously, expecting them to do the work of battleships. An ambitious five-year construction programme had been drafted in 1912 for seven battleships and seven battlecruisers, to be dubbed the Mackensen-class after the field marshal. However, none of the seven were ready when war came: the flagship SMS Mackensen would not be laid down until the summer of 1915 and even then wouldn’t be finished for another three years. What this meant was that while Germany had a great deal of funds earmarked for the new battlecruiser class, they hadn’t fully committed themselves to the project when war came. Some lamented this, arguing that seven battlecruisers would go a long way in intimidating the British, but construction timetables couldn’t be rushed.

The future of the Mackensen-class would lead to an interesting debate in Germany’s naval circles…

When the elderly battlecruiser SMS Yorck fell victim to a floating mine in December 1914, the KLM drew up plans to replace it. Building such a vessel was a lengthy process and some- correctly, as it turned out- predicted that the war might end before the new cruiser could see service, but everyone agreed that putting more hulls in the water was necessary and so construction went ahead. Literally days after the vessel’s conception, the Royal Navy sent the battlecruisers SMS Gneisenau and SMS Scharnhorst to the bottom near the Falkland Islands. In response to this, two new Mackensen-class battlecruisers were ordered in January 1915, named after the Falklands casualties. To the surprise of many, there was considerable objection to this. Admiral Eduard von Capelle pointed out that the Mackensen-class had been designed before the war, and argued that Germany ought to abandon the design and create a new class of battlecruiser incorporating lessons learned from the conflict. However, von Capelle lacked the authority to make such changes and his objections were ignored. Thus, the German Admiralty planned for a new class of battlecruiser, the Ersatz Yorck, which would consist of the three replacement ships. These were essentially Mackensens with some minor upgrades in terms of weaponry, and their main attraction was that they’d be in the water as soon as possible.

The situation changed a year later in March 1916, when von Capelle became head of the German Admiralty. (4) Now that he sat in the big chair and had the Kaiser’s ear, he could make whatever changes he deemed necessary. After gaining Wilhelm’s approval, von Capelle proposed three designs for grossekruizers- literally, ‘big cruisers’. These, he argued, would be everything the German Navy had heretofore lacked, with stronger guns, more speed, and thicker armour. Jutland on 31 May, followed by Britain’s exit from the war a week later, confirmed his preference for grossekruizers (GKs); in his eyes these ships would surely have done better in naval combat than the Mackensen-class. Like most Germans, von Capelle drew the wrong conclusions from Jutland, imagining that the casualties from that battle had forced Britain out of the war and that if Germany could damage the Royal Navy in a decisive battle in the next war, they could win a similar triumph in that conflict. When Von Capelle proposed his design for a class of three battlecruisers- since it was the tenth revision, the design was known as the GK10- in October 1916- it won the support of Kaiser Wilhelm II and Admiral Reinhard Scheer of Jutland, who commented that “had I these ships in May, we would have crushed England then and there!”- a slight exaggeration to say the least. However, the GK10 design would face an enemy far greater than the British- the budget.

Winning the war had cost Germany well over eighty million marks, and winning the peace was proving equally expensive, with the occupations in both East and West, providing assistance to disabled veterans, and establishing a colonial apparatus in Mittelafrika all adding up. When Finance Minister Count Siegfried von Roedern was shown the proposed GK10 design in January 1917, he was aghast. Working in an office all day long had given him a very different perspective on things from von Capelle and Scheer. Like all Germans, he overstated how well his country had performed at Jutland and in his eyes, “the bloody ships we had were adequate for the task at hand; therefore I see no reason to burden this country with vessels which will do the same task for twice as much!” The old divide between civilians and soldiers reared its ugly head as one bureaucrat dug in his heels and refused to move. His main ally in this was none other than Erich von Falkenhayn. As Chief of Staff of the Army, Falkenhayn didn’t much care about naval warfare and saw the GK10 as a vanity project- to say nothing of his desire to grab the lion’s share of the budget with both hands. He and von Roedern co-signed a memorandum opposing the design and presented it to the Kaiser on 1 March 1917. Wilhelm was livid but his voice wasn’t the only one which mattered. Procedure dictated a construction programme codified in a Naval Law every five years, and it so happened that the Fourth Naval Law, having been created in 1912, was due to expire this year.

The matter would have to go before the Reichstag… thus shifting control from sailors to politicians.


Top: Admiral Eduard von Capelle; beneath him is his rival Finance Minister Count Siegfried von Roedern

The Reichstag convened on the eighth of May 1917 to craft the German Empire’s Fifth Naval Law. Kaiser Wilhelm wore a naval dress uniform, which violated regulations about when such things could be worn but got the point across; Eduard von Capelle and Reinhard Scheer wore their admiral’s garb and sat next to their sovereign. Count von Roedern, meanwhile, sat on the other end of the hall in a grey civilian suit, a briefcase brimming with notes resting on his lap, glaring at the naval delegates through his pince-nez glasses. The last time the Kaiser had visited the Reichstag was in August of 1914, when he’d declared that he “no longer saw parties but only Germans!” Such unity was now gone, and even though he didn’t directly address the assembly he left no doubt where his opinions lay.

As per the Treaty of Dresden, for every twelve capital ships possessed by Germany, Britain was entitled to twelve- thus, the Fifth Naval Law provided for only twelve capital ships over five years. Seven of those ships were already clear: four Mackensen-class battlecruisers and the other three which would end up being built as either Ersatz Yorcks or GK10s. Added to this were two Bayern-class battleships, SMS Saschen and SMS Württemberg. Two other Bayerns had already been built under the preceding Naval Law, and these two ships would round out Germany’s battleship fleet. Combined with the seven battlecruisers, this left three capital ships to construct before 1922. Satisfied with this, everyone moved on to more pressing matters.

The fundamental issue at hand was whether to build Ersatz Yorcks or GK10s. Von Capelle spoke first, claiming that “every true German will beam with pride as he sees these fine ships in port for the first time.” His original speech had explained how the danger from Britain was so great that powerful ships of the line were needed, but he’d been ordered to rewrite it; Berlin was doing its best to form a modus vivendi with London, and bellicose statements wouldn’t help that. Von Capelle won a smattering of polite applause and ceded the floor to Admiral Scheer. Scheer recounted his experience at Jutland in suitably heroic terms and explained in great detail how it had helped the Fatherland win the war, before explaining how the GK10 would enhance Germany’s tactical ability at sea. The Conservatives and the Kaiser cheered wildly; the scowling Social Democrats slammed their hands together three times. Finance Minister Count von Roedern then rose and strode to the centre of the floor to explain how tight Germany’s budget was. The Mackensen and Ersatz Yorckprojects were acceptable because they already had some money put aside for them, but not the GK10. Striding back and forth like a professor across a lecture hall, Count von Roedern asked the assembly if they “would rather live in an impoverished Germany where the veterans who have given us this victory are left without the means of sustenance, where our cities, colonies and military are allowed to atrophy, so that we may have three battleships of the premiere quality as opposed to three perfectly normal ones?” The apocalyptic language, the fact that von Roedern had his terminology wrong with regards to the word ‘battleship’, and the obvious pleasure he took in dragging out his point left the naval delegates gnashing their teeth and Kaiser Wilhelm II forcefully twirling his moustache. Supreme Warlord though he was, Wilhelm wasn’t an absolute monarch and without the Reichstag’s approval the proposal couldn’t be passed.

Kaiser Wilhelm II sat, impotent, through half an hour of voting while his dream was killed.

The Reichstag refused to grant funds for three GK10-class ships, citing budgetary issues. They were willing instead to go with the pre-Capelle plan of four Mackensen-class battlecruisers and three Ersatz Yorcks to replace those lost in the war. Capelle was livid at being ignored and nearly all the KLM felt that a tremendous opportunity was being thrown away, but there was nothing that could be done.

Thus, Germany gained its Fifth Naval Law.

The first three ships of the Mackensen-class- SMS Mackensen, SMS Graf Spee, and SMS Prinz Etiel Frederich- were laid down in spring 1915 and entered the water thirty months later. Various teething troubles held up the fourth, SMS Ersatz Friedrich Carl, until the spring of 1918. While the four vessels underwent construction in the summer of 1917, the flagship of the Ersatz Yorck class grew closer to completion one hammer-stroke at a time, and she formally entered service on 1 September 1918; all the survivors of the ship for which she was named were present at the ceremony. Von Capele wasn’t a petty man and had resolved to build the other three ships of the class to the highest specifications. Ironically considering all the amount of fuss made over it, SMS Ersatz Yorck was quite well-regarded by many German commanders once they’d gotten used to it- the ship underwent some naval testing in the Baltic Sea in December and performed quite well. People spoke highly of its armament, which represented a step up from the Mackensens. Although von Capele would complain about the insult to his post in his memoirs, he somehow found the courage to speak when the last Ersatz Yorck, SMS Ersatz Scharnhorst, was launched in April 1919, and later paid the class the very high compliment of ‘adequate’.

Drawing of SMS Ersatz Yorck, launched 1 September 1918. SMS Ersatz Yorck line color.png: aaa3-otherderivative work: Aaa3-other, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

His thoughts had moved onto bigger and better things in any case…

While rounding out its battlecruiser fleet, Germany finished the Bayern-class battleships SMS Sachsen and SMS Wurttemberg. The former had been laid down a few months before the war and the latter in January 1915, but the fighting had ended before they could see service. Sachsen joined the High Seas Fleet on the first of September 1917, with Wurttemberg following three months later. The two served alongside their sister ships SMS Bayern and SMS Baden, mooring side-by-side in Kiel harbour. The four Bayern-class ships were comparable to a British super-dreadnought and handed the High Seas Fleet considerable power-projecting ability, helping to repair the damage done at Jutland. Britain’s unease wasn’t helped by the Kaiser’s jingoistic speeches at the launchings, but worse was to come. Plans for an even greater class of ships had been in the works since 1914, and a team of naval experts had spent the war in back rooms toiling away. Within twelve months of Sachsen slipping into the water, plans for this new class of battleship were submitted to the Reichstag as per the provisions of the Fifth Naval Law.

The only thing about the proposed L20e battleships which didn’t inspire awe was their name. Everything from armament to armour promised to be superior to the Bayerns, themselves top-of-the-line ships. Jutland had shown that German warships had a small but significant qualitative superiority over their British foes and the proposed L20e would only widen that gap. Eighteen months had passed since the Fifth Naval Law’s passage and a new Conservative government had replaced the Social Democrat-led wartime coalition. (5) Chancellor Ernst von Heydebrand was more sympathetic to the military than his predecessor and consented to fund three L20es, with one to be built every year. Construction began on SMS Hesse, SMS Ostpreußen, and SMS Rheinland in January 1919 and stretched over three years- the only change made was renaming them the Hesse-class as opposed to the unwieldy L20e. With regards to armament and armour, the Hesse-class took its inspiration from the Bayerns; turret arrangement, gun calibre, and armour patterns were all similar but not identical to the preceding class.

Great Britain watched all this with horror. After sending Napoleon’s navy to the bottom, they’d spent the nineteenth century ruling the waves and considered that their divine right. The expectation of crushing the KLM in 1914 hadn’t just been rooted in jingoism (although that was certainly a prime factor); Britain had never faced a naval defeat big enough to destroy its grand strategy and if the Armada and Villeneuve hadn’t been enough, why would the Germans? Thus, the inability to wipe the foe out during the Great War had been not just a tactical and strategic blow but an emotional one too.

Was Britain losing her edge?

Herbert Asquith’s government had been a casualty of the war and by the start of 1917 David Lloyd George was in power. Lloyd George had no love for Berlin and was deeply concerned that if the Royal Navy fell too far behind, Britain would face invasion or starvation during a second war. When the Prime Minister conferred with First Sea Lord Sir John Jellicoe in February 1917, his questions were simple. How had Britain gone wrong and how could that be fixed? Jellicoe had commanded at Jutland and for obvious reasons wanted to downplay his own failings there. However, neither he nor Lloyd George believed that the battle had been instrumental in causing Britain to exit from the war. The German narrative that “defeat” at Jutland had caused Britain to quit wasn’t backed up by events- Winston Churchill’s failed evacuation had already wrapped up by 31 May, thus eliminating Britain’s ability to project power on the continent. (6) By shifting blame onto Churchill, Jellicoe successfully downplayed his failure at Jutland. Lloyd George replied that that was so, but the fact remained that Britain had failed in its mission to wipe out the KLM and accounts had to be made for that. Desperate to preserve his reputation and career, Jellicoe blamed inferior British armour and damage-control practises; several valuable ships had been lost at Jutland when German shells crashed through their thin defences into rooms filled with improperly stored gunpowder. He also highlighted Germany’s superior battlecruisers, which were far more capable than their British counterparts of fighting in the line. MI5 had kept both men well-informed of the Ersatz Yorck versus GK10 debate, and Jellicoe stressed that unless Britain took action, they would find themselves outmatched by a new generation of German battlecruisers. Fortunately, Jellicoe said, a solution was at hand. Much like with the German Ersatz Yorcks, Britain had commissioned a new class of ships in 1915 to replace losses. Space had been filled in the budget for four Admiral-class battlecruisers, but work had proceeded extremely slowly with only the first having been laid down. This, Jellicoe argued, was a blessing in disguise. Since the Admiral-class was essentially a blank slate, the design could be revised to incorporate lessons from Jutland. He wasn’t the only one to have made such proposals and many in the Admiralty would’ve been perfectly willing to back him up. The First Sea Lord presented the Prime Minister with a three-page memorandum of specific technical changes he wanted to see, and David Lloyd George consented. Jellicoe firmly believed that the Admiral-class would give Britain an appropriate tactical edge and enable them to win the next decisive battle at sea, which in turn would grant them sea control. (7) Thus, the Admiral-class arose like a phoenix from the failure of Jutland.

Britain was, however, hampered by the same issue as the Germans; namely, financial concerns. The Great War had been horribly expensive, with Britain having reached nearly the end of its gold reserves by the summer of 1916. London had borrowed some two billion from the United States and had had to default on that after its French and Russian creditors announced their inability to pay back their own loans. Attempts to sock away for the proposed ships were dashed once the Indian revolt began in June, four months after Jellicoe and Lloyd George spoke. That conflict distracted British finances for the rest of the year and it wasn’t until mid-1918 that the country could even think about tackling its debt- much less starting off on a new construction programme. The first of the four ships, HMS Hood, had been re-laid down in the autumn of 1916 (8), but the tight budget and Indian revolt kept work at a snail’s pace. Nevertheless, skeleton crews kept toiling away until January 1918, by which point the scale of Britain’s economic issues became apparent. The war in India had been funded largely through borrowing and paying off those loans had to take pre-eminence over battleship construction. Thus, it wasn’t until early 1920 that HMS Hood entered the water, close to four years after she’d first been ordered. Her sister ships followed suit with one being launched every year over the next three years.

HMS Hood at her launching, February 1920

All this was good but it wasn’t enough. Ten years before Hood slipped into the water, Britain had been the greatest power in the world, to whom building new and mighty fleets was a matter of course. Watching Germany put seven cruisers in the water with relative ease made the Admiral-class look pathetic. If this was all they could do, many sighed, then the country really was doomed. Perhaps the country’s days as a Great Power were over, and that the next war- for everyone assumed there would be a next war- would see the Royal Navy sunk all thanks to the American creditors, the Indian rebels, and the stingy Exchequer? Why couldn’t the country do more?

Such pessimists would’ve been amused to know that Germany was encountering similar troubles.

The German Empire’s great project of the early 1920s was one most definitely geared to the landlubbers- the Trans-Sahara Railway. (10) The project had strategic sense behind it but it was also bloody expensive and ill-executed, and after eight months the thing was laid to rest in autumn 1920. Germany was left thirty million marks poorer, and that was money which couldn’t be poured into naval construction. Admiral Eduard von Capelle was thus left shaking his fists, confident that the British were on the cusp of developing new designs which would cast Germany in the shade. Nonetheless, there was hope for the German Admiralty as in 1922 a new five-year plan had to be constructed. Unable to do anything but plan, von Capelle and his colleagues spent 1920 and 1921 in their offices and bedrooms, crafting plans for what they’d do when they had the chance. (11) With the national debt under control and the folly of the Trans-Sahara Railway exposed for all the world to see, von Capelle wasn’t about to let the financiers in grey suits get the better of him!

Ernst von Heydebrand’s government was out of power by 1922 but the successor administration was amiable to the Navy’s needs. With Germany’s financial situation under grips by 1922 (12), the country could afford to build high-quality battleships which would remain powerful and competitive for years to come. Plans for improved grossekruizers were submitted under the provisional name GK12s (these would eventually become known as the Roon-class after the Austro-Prussian War commander), and these were expected to fight in the line alongside battleships. As to the big ships, von Capelle had taken inspiration from a different proposal for the L20e (this one being codenamed the L24), and modernised the design. His proposed battleship design was codenamed the L25e and would later become known as the Kronprinz Wilhelm-class. Provision was made for three ships of this design and six Roons by 1927. Germany was thus assured of naval competitiveness throughout the 1920s…

Across the Atlantic, the United States watched with what could almost be described as amusement. The path which would lead to the United States becoming the world’s premiere naval power dated back to Theodore Roosevelt’s presidency and the writings of Alfred Thayer Mahan. Roosevelt adopted the Mahanian principle of a “fleet in being”, anchoring large, united fleets off of each shore to deter foreign foes while connecting the coasts with the Panama Canal. Construction was a slow business, and it was only under Roosevelt’s successor William Howard Taft the United States finished its first European-style dreadnought, 1910’s USS Michigan. By the time Taft’s term expired in 1912, America had six dreadnoughts under its belt and more on the way. Woodrow Wilson, as ardent an imperialist as Roosevelt even if he liked to cloak himself with pacifist rhetoric, expanded the Navy still further, with one of his advisers claiming that the United States would acquire a navy “second to none.” March 1915’s Naval Appropriations Act was followed a year later by the Naval Act of 1916. By 1919, twelve battleships, six battle cruisers, ten scout cruisers, fifty-six destroyers, and eighty-five submarines, as well as the rudiments of a naval aviation branch, would be added to the already substantial US Navy.

The message to Europe could not have been more clear: they trifled with the United States at their peril.

America’s industrial might had swollen since the Civil War. With a country untouched by conflict and a seemingly bottomless supply of immigrant labour to turn the crank, constructing such a fleet in less than four years was uniquely possible for America. November saw Woodrow Wilson replaced by Charles Evans Hughes, but one of the few things the Republican agreed with his predecessor on was the need for strong national defence. Few of the ships were available for the Second Mexican War but the war effort certainly sped up construction. Thus, America viewed Britain’s struggles to launch the Admiral-class as pathetic and their pride over getting the last one in the water in 1923 as near comical. Britain really did appear to be losing its teeth, and the question of who was the greatest Anglophone state appeared answered. By the middle of the decade, the United States was the world’s greatest naval power. An earthquake had ravaged Japan’s economy, leaving them unable to compete in terms of heavy ship construction while Germany, for all her bluster, was still growing and in any case preoccupied with Britain. Such was American confidence that Secretary of the Navy Edward Benn was able to comment to the President in early 1920 that the United States was capable of taking on the Anglo-Japanese alliance alone and winning.

When Charles Evans Hughes told the American voter he’d made his country “king of half the world” in the 1920 election, he was not lying.

The five years after the Great War showed that a new naval reality had emerged from that conflict. Germany’s star was rising, its capital ships bringing it the same prestige on the waves its empire brought it on land. Britain was still a Great Power and the Royal Navy was certainly not to be trifled with, but financial concerns had limited the fleet’s ability to grow and London’s best days were behind her. British weakness created a power vacuum in the Pacific; Japan had gotten away with puppetising Siam and stealing French Indochina and was at the very least an equal to Britain. London was too preoccupied with Germany and India to offer real resistance to Japan and so Tokyo was able to throw its weight around. The real winner of the naval war, though, was America: its two fleets left the Western Hemisphere equally closed to British and German influence and were the only thing Japan was forced to take seriously.

Time would tell what this all meant for the world…

Comments?

1. Referred to as the KLM.
2. Never really worked it in here until now, but TTL WWI’s Battle of the Atlantic was rather better for the Germans for this reason…
3. See chapter 7, but the battle went more or less as OTL.
4. Reichsmarineamt
5. See chapter 26.
6. See chapter ten
7. I, the author, am being a bit sarcastic here- of course that’s not all there is to sea control but it’s the erroneous lesson learned at Jutland and so Jellicoe treats it as Gospel. No way this will end poorly…
8. That’s actually OTL
9. The G3 and N3 (or analogues) aren’t butterflied, but they will be delayed beyond the scope of this update until the mid-1920s.
10. See chapter 38
11. Add 100 years to those dates and you can see where your quarantined author is coming from….
12. Wow, talk about alternate history

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

I would be deeply remiss if I did not thank @CV12Hornet and @SkywalkerT65 for their incredible help in producing this update. Thank you so much to the both of you; you've been more than generous sharing your wealth of knowledge with me and this update would've been poorer without you. All the mistakes are mine.

 

[Thomas_Wellesley]

Great update as usual. Minor nitpicks...

Literally days after the vessel’s conception, the Royal Navy sent the battlecruisers SMS Gniesau and SMS Scharnhorst to the bottom near the Falkland Islands.

Firstly, they weren't battlecruisers, they were armoured cruisers - you may have got confused with the WW2 ships of the same names.
Secondly, it's spelt Gneisenau, not Gniesau.

Otherwise, it was excellent

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

Great update as usual. Minor nitpicks...

Firstly, they weren't battlecruisers, they were armoured cruisers - you may have got confused with the WW2 ships of the same names.
Secondly, it's spelt Gneisenau, not Gniesau.

Otherwise, it was excellent

Thanks for that. My auto-correct likes "Gniesau" for some reason and that one must've slipped through...
Glad you like it.