Chapter 644: Air-Launched Torpedoes
Admiral von Kavis quickly raised his binoculars to follow the silhouette of the bomber circling overhead, but the aircraft had already slipped back into the fog like a graceful seabird, vanishing from sight.
Driven by a growing sense of unease, he issued an urgent command: "Watch the skies! Bring down those bombers with machine gun fire!"
"Yes, Admiral!" the staff replied immediately, relaying the order.
Yet some on the bridge remained puzzled. Reconnaissance planes were used to locate enemy fleets. Once the fleets had already found each other, didn't that render the recon plane's job irrelevant? Was it worth the distraction and the expenditure of ammunition to target them now?
"BOOM!"
A sudden explosion rocked the formation.
Von Kavis turned toward the noise and saw a towering column of water rise next to one of the fleet's cruisers. A second later, the ship began listing and circling helplessly, before drifting behind the formation—crippled.
"Admiral!" the staff called out. "It's the SMS Stettin—she's been hit by a torpedo!"
"A torpedo?" Von Kavis frowned, sweeping his binoculars across the French fleet in the distance. "They're at least three kilometers away. How could they have launched a torpedo from that far?"
At this time in history, most torpedoes had a maximum range of about two kilometers. Even those rated for three rarely hit at such distances due to their slow speed and the visible wake they created on the water's surface, which usually allowed warships enough time to evade.
A communications officer confirmed the shocking report:
"Admiral, Stettin reports that the torpedo was launched from a French warship. They attempted emergency evasive maneuvers, but the torpedo changed course and struck the hull."
"What?!" Von Kavis's face turned pale. "The torpedo changed course?"
Colonel Maximi tried to offer a rational explanation: "Perhaps it was a coincidence. A wave might've redirected the torpedo by chance."
Von Kavis nodded faintly. That was the only explanation that made sense. Anything else—like a guided torpedo—was too terrifying to consider.
But then a second report came in: another destroyer had been hit by a torpedo.
Even more bizarre—the circumstances were identical to the Stettin incident.
"Two torpedoes targeted the destroyer," the report read. "We dodged one, but the second adjusted course and struck the hull."
Von Kavis's expression turned ashen.
One lucky hit could be attributed to fate. But two? On a fast-moving vessel like the G101-class destroyer, which could reach 33.5 knots—nearly matching torpedo speeds?
This was no coincidence.
This was Charles's doing.
Some kind of torpedo capable of adjusting its course in the water—a wire-guided torpedo.
Now Von Kavis understood why the French dared to face three German battlecruisers with nothing more than cruisers and destroyers.
We should have been the ones running, he realized bitterly. Not them.
But the worst was yet to come.
Two bombers emerged from the mist, silhouetted against the sun. They circled briefly, then dove low, forming nearly perfect attack arcs before leveling off at 20 meters above sea level.
Their target was obvious: the SMS Seydlitz.
Von Kavis raised his binoculars and froze.
He saw them clearly now—beneath each bomber's fuselage hung not bombs, but torpedoes.
Torpedoes.
"Order the Seydlitz to take evasive action!" Von Kavis shouted at the top of his lungs.
But it was too late.
The bombers approached at low altitude, closing in to within a kilometer before releasing their torpedoes. Then they pulled up hard—so close that their underbellies nearly grazed the Seydlitz's masts. The blast of air from their engines caused the signal flags on the mast to whip backward violently.
Von Kavis turned his gaze to the sea.
Two distinct white wakes streaked toward the Seydlitz—like sharks zeroing in on their prey.
"Those are torpedoes!" the sailors cried in horror. "My God, are they dropping torpedoes from aircraft?!"
The Seydlitz made a desperate attempt to dodge, turning hard to starboard. Some sailors even tried shooting at the torpedoes with rifles in a last-ditch effort.
But there wasn't enough time.
One minute later—two thunderous explosions erupted.
In a flash of spray and smoke, Seydlitz went dead in the water. Her hull began to list. She was taking on water fast—sinking.
The crew never had time to lower lifeboats. Men simply leapt into the freezing sea, yelling and screaming as they hit the water.
The rest of the fleet looked on in stunned silence.
It was undeniable now—aircraft could sink battleships.
And worse, they had no defenses against it.
"Admiral!" a terrified staff officer turned to Von Kavis.
Von Kavis understood immediately.
This was the moment to retreat—or else the entire fleet might be annihilated.
He said nothing at first. Instead, he calmly walked to the edge of the bridge and scanned the sky. Then he turned and examined the sea again before speaking in a low voice:
"They have four bombers left. Each can carry one torpedo."
Meaning the French only had four torpedoes remaining.
There was still a chance.
But the officer next to him cautioned, "Admiral… that may only be one squadron. Another could be en route. Or hiding just outside our view."
Von Kavis clenched his jaw.
"Signal all units: be prepared to evade any torpedoes dropped by enemy aircraft!"
"Yes, Admiral."
Von Kavis knew full well how dangerous the situation had become. He knew retreat was the logical option.
But he was also thinking about a deeper issue.
If the French can launch torpedoes from aircraft... what about the British?
The Royal Navy had Caproni bombers too. Could they be retrofitted for torpedo attacks?
And what about those terrifying 3-kilometer-range guided torpedoes? Could the British be developing them too?
If so—where could the German High Seas Fleet hide?
Remain forever docked in harbor?
Rot behind the safety of a breakwater?
No.
Never.
Von Kavis clenched his fists. I'd rather go down fighting than decay in a port!
His thoughts were interrupted by another incoming wave—two more bombers descending to low altitude.
This time, their target was SMS Lützow itself.
"Hard to port!" Von Kavis ordered.
But the bombers came too fast.
They released their torpedoes nearly in unison. Twin trails of white water surged forward, this time with deadly accuracy—they had even adjusted for lead time based on the Lützow's speed and heading.
They were coming straight for her.
(End of Chapter 644)
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 30 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Franklin1