Chapter 1143: Chapter 157: Strategy vs Tactics
Off the coast of London, the cruel bloodbath continued. To intercept the landing of the Allied Forces, the British Army unleashed its full potential.
Behind them was London, with no route of retreat left, the Great Britain Empire was on the brink of collapse.
The British, having dominated for a century, had reached the pinnacle of arrogance, unable to tolerate defeat. Even faced with the entirety of the European Continent, the British were unwilling to concede.
The British Army fought fiercely, and the Allied Forces had their reasons to fight just as hard. Over the years, the British had garnered much hatred, and now it was a ti of settling scores, with their morale matching their adversaries.
Air combat was intensively unfolding, as aircraft intermittently plumted from the sky. On board the flagship, Grand Emperor, Admiral Aldo von Donati gazed coldly at the sea.
The Royal Navy was still en route; the naval battle had yet to comnce. For now, their tasks were limited to mine clearing and engaging submarines, lacking any real challenge.
As for the air battle, the Navy couldn’t really get involved. Despite being equipped with the era’s most advanced anti-aircraft firepower, it remained the case.
Low hit rates were a minor issue, the key problem was the rapid movent of aircraft. The Air Force was locked in combat, and recklessly firing could just as likely bring down their own planes as the enemy’s.
By now, the air superiority clearly belonged to the Allied Forces, who didn’t need such desperate tactics.
In the distance, another British Air Force squadron appeared on the horizon. As the battle persisted, it was normal for the British to reinforce given their disadvantaged position.
A squadron from the Allied Forces moved to intercept. The clash was imminent, but suddenly half of the British squadron broke away and charged towards the Allied fleet.
Involved in the battle were high-speed fighters; slow bombers entering the fray were akin to a death sentence. Even if they managed to drop bombs, the suicide mission was a losing deal.
Fighters approaching the Navy did not make sense to the enemy, yet the Allied Air Force chose to intercept imdiately.
Unfortunately, it was too late; the British Air Force had already engaged. Then, the detached British squadron dived towards the Navy below.
A destroyer was tragically hit by three fighter jets and, amidst intense explosions, the vessel was ripped apart, sending n and ship alike to et their maker.
This was just the beginning. Accompanied by the onset of the British suicidal attacks, continuous colossal blasts ca from the Allied fleet below.
Even with full anti-aircraft firepower, facing opponents who fought with no regard for their lives still seed futile.
Unless they could hit critical areas and shatter the enemy planes mid-air, even damaged aircraft would still crash dive.
Witnessing a battleship sink under such a suicidal onslaught, Admiral Aldo’s heart bled.
One could never have dread the British would fight with such ferocity; this was hardly characteristic of the Great Britain Empire.
In fact, facing such suicidal attacks, even being prepared in advance wouldn’t have been much of an advantage.
The only consolation was the enemy’s low accuracy rate, often resulting in multiple planes crashing into the sa target. Out of hundreds of planes attacking, only three warships and two troop carriers were lost.
After all, these were suicide attacks that ca and went quickly. From the launch of the assault till its end, it was only a matter of minutes.
Looking over the devastated battlefield, Admiral Aldo, holding back his grief, ordered, “Promptly rescue any personnel overboard, then prepare to retreat.”
It was a feint from the start, there was no need to engage the enemy to the death. A look at the accompanying troop transports made it clear, there weren’t many people aboard.
Forcing a landing in London without thoroughly defeating the enemy’s naval and air forces first would be an utterly foolhardy act.
As soon as he finished speaking, a military staff officer hurried in.
“Commander, an enemy fleet was spotted to the west, approaching us at full speed, currently about 20 nautical miles away.”
After hesitating for several seconds, Admiral Aldo ordered, “Transmit the order, let the damaged warships, troop transports, and supply ships retreat first; the remaining ships will stay to rescue the officers and soldiers who fell overboard.
Send a ssage to headquarters explaining our plight and request air support from the Air Force. All main ships, prepare for battle…”
It wasn’t that the fleet lacked vigilance; it was re 180 nautical miles from the continent. Detecting the enemy and escaping was feasible in terms of ti.
Since the performance of everyone’s warships was more or less the sa, with still 20 nautical miles away, it normally wouldn’t be possible for the enemy to catch up across 180 nautical miles.
Alas, plans never keep up with changes; no one could have foreseen the enemy’s use of suicidal attacks, nor the horrific extent of destruction caused.
Now, rescuing officers and soldiers who had fallen overboard required ti, and during this delay, the enemy’s faster ships were already catching up.
Had the fleet not been damaged, Admiral Aldo would never hesitate; fight a battle, and if both sides suffered, they would all go back and lick their wounds.
But having just lost three warships, with several more damaged, especially including a Super Battleship among the sunk, the fleet’s strength was significantly diminished.
Of course, being in a weaker position didn’t entirely eliminate their fighting capacity; had their power disparity been severe, Admiral Aldo would have already ordered to abandon the fallen officers and flee.
Great achievents require great sacrifices; the battlefield always demands its toll, and anyone could be sacrificed if necessary.
But it clearly hadn’t co to that point yet; the era had changed, and the era of great cannons and massive ships had shone during the battle in the English Channel.
It was a transitional period, and the future belonged to the Air Force. Whoever controlled the skies would hold sway over the next era.
…
London, barely having ti to celebrate the success of a stealth attack, received the dire news of Gleyer’s fall.
“Reclaim Gleyer at all costs and with utmost speed!” Pri Minister Campbell bellowed.
Logically speaking, a small town with no military or economic value, if lost, is just that—lost.
For the defense of The British Isles, it really had no effect. Even if the enemy occupied the area, they couldn’t land a large army without a suitable port.
But politics is never reasonable. With his rich experience in political struggles, Campbell was certain that once the Austrians captured the town of Gleyer, they’d imdiately announce a successful landing to the world.
Ordinary people wouldn’t care whether Gleyer had military value; having established a foothold in The British Isles was enough for them to consider it a successful landing.
Then, everyone would conclude, using their own logic, that the Great Britain Empire was about to collapse.
Once public opinion boiled over, Britannia would indeed face internal and external troubles from all sides.
Foreign Minister Adam added, “The enemy planned this in advance, and the news must have spread by now.
Next, the governnts of various nations will verify the news, and we need to reclaim Gleyer before everyone confirms it.
Otherwise…”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence; everyone knew the gravity of the consequences.
Once it was confird that the Allied Forces had successfully landed, the allies of the Great Britain Empire would desert them one after another. Everyone was wise enough to cut their losses, and the sooner, the lesser the damage.
Sharing both good tis and bad, life and death together—that’s for dramas, never popular in real politics.
Verify the news?
That’s overestimating everyone’s consciousness. Even in the information-rich 21st century, a rumor could deceive many; it goes without saying these days.
Moreover, this wasn’t even a rumor; the Allied Forces had genuinely completed a landing.
It’s hard to undo what’s done; even if the British Army managed to repel the enemy into the sea, the political damage was done. Politicians would assu:
“Since the Allied Forces landed once, they can land a second ti. As the defenders who cannot launch an effective counterattack, it’s only a matter of ti before collapse.”
The Oceanic Alliance was already on the brink of disintegration. With this stimulus, it would take divine intervention to calm everyone.
The pressure was all on them; the Army Minister and the Minister of Military Affairs exchanged a look and bitterly accepted this overwhelming task.
…
The atmosphere in the British Governnt was gloomy, and it wasn’t much better in the Vienna Palace. The landing was complete, but the fleet had suffered heavy losses in a feint operation.
Losing a Super Battleship was painful, Franz felt it, and so did everyone else.
However, in Franz’s view, the losses were worth it. Trading the sinking of a Super Battleship for a successful landing was a valuable exchange.
Tactics and strategy were never equal. A successful landing ant the chance to dissolve the Oceanic Alliance had appeared.
The Great Britain Empire, without the wings of its allies, was like a tiger that had lost its claws. Although its teeth were intact, it lacked the ability to hunt, and would eventually starve or be trapped to death.
After brief contemplation, Franz decisively gave up on assigning bla. Who knew the British would play an unexpected hand, which was simply unfair…
“There’s no need to worry too much, Death Squads are easy to find, but pilots are hard to train, and those willing to be Death Squad pilots are even fewer.
Such suicidal plane attacks as pilots, are not sustainable. I expect this to be just one wave; even if there are more, they won’t scale.
How is the situation in Gleyer town? How long can our landing troops hold out there?”
Franz didn’t underestimate the British; Britannia simply had no cultural tradition of ‘dying for the cause.’ Gathering a squad of Death Squad pilots had already been a record-breaking feat, and expecting more was frankly unrealistic.
If it were easy, the planes involved in the day’s attacks would have been nurous.
If the British suddenly managed to gather three to five thousand Death Squad pilots, a single wave could cripple the Allied fleet.
That was obviously impossible; perhaps the Japanese could do it, given so ti to do ideological work, as only a minority possessed such fearless spirit.
Army Minister Feslav, “The terrain in Gleyer is complex, inherently unsuitable for large troop engagents, which is very advantageous for our upcoming defensive operations.
Currently, we’ve deployed a paratrooper brigade and an infantry brigade to Gleyer, and we will decide whether to send more troops based on the situation.
Unless the enemy can block both sea and air routes, they can’t dream of taking Gleyer from us!”
The strength of an army lies exactly here. Once a nail is driven in, as long as reinforcents can flow, it’s difficult to pull out.
Moreover, Gleyer was deliberately chosen by the military as a landing point, considering a potential enemy counterattack, specifically picking a town unsuitable for large troop movents.
Without the ability to leverage troop strength, the conflict becos a raw battle of combat power. If they can’t even hold that, the Sacred Shinra Army would hardly justify its standing in the world.
…
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