The sun slowly rose above the horizon, and the sea in the morning light was shrouded in a layer of mist. In the fog, a blue-gray submarine glided like a whale, silently moving through the haze.
Today was the third day of the submarine "Shark" patrolling the Yellow Sea on its mission. Three days earlier, when the "Shark" approached the waters off Fujian, Zou Tongjie had specially gathered all the officers and n to stand on deck and salute the mountains and rivers of their holand.
Eight years!
As a native of Fujian, this was the first ti in eight years that Zou Tongjie had seen Fujian, the first ti he had co so close to his holand. Eight years ago, the warship he served on had been ordered to scuttle itself. In the seven years that followed, he had carried out minelaying missions with his unit, until he was demobilized and dismissed last year.
Just when Zou Tongjie thought he would never have the chance to serve on a warship again, soone approached him. Like many of his forr comrades, he beca an employee of the Borneo Company. Then what? They flew to India, then transferred to Italy via India. At Taranto Port, he once again boarded a warship—this ti, even a submarine!
As captain, Zou Tongjie and the others trained under Italian instructors, learning how to operate and fight with submarines. A month ago, they sailed from Tunis, transited the Suez Canal with three other submarines, entered the Indian Ocean, and then the Pacific, where they conducted joint operations with Arican submarines.
But for these inexperienced n, combat felt more like training. Under the guidance of Italian advisors—veterans of the Atlantic submarine campaign—they learned how to conduct submarine operations and comrce raiding. It wasn't until a week ago that the "Sea Serpent" scored its first kill—sinking a 2,000-ton freighter in the Tsushima Strait.
After hearing this news, Zou Tongjie naturally set his sights on the Tsushima Strait. Compared to the vast Pacific, there were more Japanese rchant ships there, making it easier to achieve results.
However, up to now, he had not made any gains. Although he had seen many ships, most were just small fishing boats.
"Don't worry, Zou."
At that mont, Dicocato's voice ca from beside him. This forr Italian naval officer had commanded this submarine in the Atlantic, achieving seven kills and sinking over 30,000 tons. Now, he and several other Italian officers and sailors were company employees, serving as instructors to assist Zou Tongjie in commanding the submarine.
"Patience is the most important thing when conducting submarine attacks. Back in the Atlantic, sotis we waited a whole week or even longer. If you have patience, prey will always co to you..."
Nodding slightly, Zou Tongjie said,
"The Bungo Channel."
"What?"
"Whether rchant ships or warships, the Japanese all pass through there. Three days ago, the Aricans began their assault on Okinawa. The Japanese will surely send reinforcents there, and they can only go by ship. So, I think if we head there, we might have a chance for so results!"
One must admit, Zou Tongjie's intuition was sharp. Perhaps, after years of service, he was more like an army man than a navy man.
For the army, encirclent and reinforcent battles are the norm.
Since the Aricans were attacking Okinawa, he could intercept reinforcents at sea.
Thus, the "Shark" submarine once again headed east, sailing at full speed through the morning mist.
At this mont, Zou Tongjie had no idea what awaited him there.
Sotis, the course of events is just like this—so many coincidences push things forward.
At 3:00 p.m., the fleet weighed anchor. Sunlight pierced the clouds. Captain Harada's cruiser "Yahagi" led the way, followed by four destroyers, then "Yamato," with another four destroyers bringing up the rear.
As the ten warships slowly sailed out of the Seto Inland Sea, the first of ten large-scale air raids on the Arican ships assembled off Okinawa began. Three hundred forty-one bombers carried out nearly four hours of conventional bombing, and three hundred fifty-five "Kamikaze" planes crashed into Arican ships. By dusk, three Arican destroyers, one landing craft, and two ammunition ships had been sunk, with another ten ships heavily damaged.
On board the "Yamato," Vice Admiral Ito was delighted to hear reports of thirty enemy ships sunk and twenty on fire. In the sky above, Kusaka accompanied the fleet in a seaplane, waving farewell as he left when the fuel was just enough for the return trip.
That night, a thousand sailors on the "Yahagi"...
The crew assembled on deck, listening as Colonel Hara read aloud the final telegram from General Toyoda, urging them to fight to the death—declaring that the fate of the Empire "would be decided in this battle."
After several rounds of shouts—"Banzai for the Empire of Japan!"—Colonel Hara gave his own address, which left most of the crew feeling indignant. He said:
"Our mission may seem like a suicide mission, and indeed, it is. But let emphasize: suicide is not our objective. Our goal is victory. You are not sheep being led to the slaughter... If this ship is heavily damaged or sunk, you must not hesitate to escape, so that you may fight again in the future. The war is not over yet. You must not commit suicide—you must defeat the enemy!"
This ti, there were no cries of "Banzai" from the crew. Everyone knew that even if they managed to escape, the chances of survival were slim.
Around 8 p.m., the Second Fleet carefully navigated through the minefields of the Bungo Channel and entered the Pacific Ocean. Ito ordered the fleet to proceed southward along the coast of Kyushu at a speed of twenty knots.
At this mont, Ito was unaware that his fleet had already been spotted by two Arican submarines, which imdiately sent out coded ssages.
anwhile, the USS Shark, patrolling along the coast of Kyushu, also received the ssage.
"It must be a big one!" Zou Tongjie said excitedly. Although he didn't know exactly which enemy warship the Arican code referred to, he was completely swept up in the thrill of the mont.
After plotting the intersecting course on the chart, Zou Tongjie looked up at Di Cocato and said, "Well, shall we go for it?"
Seeing the feverish look in Zou Tongjie's eyes, Di Cocato's gaze turned predatory, like a lion spotting its prey. He slapped the chart and said, "Let's do it!"
Imdiately, the Shark set course at full speed toward the interception area. All through the night, the Shark ran at maximum speed, only diving at dawn. At the sa ti, the sonar operator picked up the fast-turning propellers of warships.
"Multiple warships detected!"
What?
Multiple ships!
The sonar operator's report instantly changed the feverish look in Zou Tongjie's eyes. He suddenly realized he had plunged straight into the middle of a fleet.
For a submarine, this was far from good news!
The roles of hunter and prey can sotis reverse so quickly that it's hard to adapt.
For the Shark at this mont, with several warships entering its ambush zone, it might not even get a chance to attack—instead, it could easily beco the hunted.
Now they were truly caught in a dilemma.
Listening to the sharp whine of high-speed propellers coming through the speakers, Zou Tongjie frowned deeply. Suddenly, as if making a decision, he ordered:
"Reduce speed, slow to three knots…"
As Zou Tongjie gave the order, Di Cocato nodded approvingly. In this situation, silent running was the best option. If that didn't work, there was always the choice to dive deep, even settle on the seabed—provided the depth was managed carefully.
Just then, the sonar operator reported:
"There's the sound of rain! It must be raining heavily on the surface—the water noise is very complex!"
"Thank heavens. Now he's ours!"
Who cares what kind of warship it is—this big fish is mine now!
Zou Tongjie was visibly excited.
By now, ten warships had entered the open sea south of Kyushu. They adjusted their formation into a ring, with the Yamato in the center, zigzagging south toward Okinawa at twenty-four knots. At the sa ti, the last escort planes returned to base.
With the Kyushu coastline fading from view, the fleet was alone at sea.
At 8 a.m., heavy clouds pressed down from the sky, and a driving rain battered the ships. The wind and waves were so fierce that the sonar operators on the escort ships heard nothing but static—they had no idea a submarine was lurking below.
"Ascend to thirty ters!"
"Thirty ters, aye, Captain."
The planesn turned their wheels. The depth gauge needle steadily rose. The noise outside grew louder: the pinging of sonar, the thrum of propellers. It was clear now—the sounds were coming from ahead.
"Thirty ters, Captain."
"Good. Now, listen carefully. I'm raising the periscope."
Zou Tongjie's voice was firm.
"Then I want you to rise exactly one ter, level off for a bit, then rise another ter, and level off again. Keep it steady, understand?"
"Yes, Captain."
The slender tube of the attack periscope rose quietly, then stopped.
"Now at twenty ters, Captain!"
"Excellent!"
Everything was perfect.
In the eyes of Di Cocato and the other Italian instructors, both Captain Zou's orders and the crew's execution were flawless.
Under the hands of these skilled sailors, the submarine maintained a steady horizontal course, then paused again.
"Eighteen ters, Captain."
The two planesn were probably the best sailors on the sub, carefully maintaining their depth.
"Good! Hold this depth! This is it!"
Zou Tongjie raised his voice, a note of fervor in his tone. It was a passion born eight years ago, when he watched warships sink into the Yangtze River, and from that mont, he had longed for this day...
The arrival of this mont.
Now, he finally had the chance for revenge!
At this mont, Zou Tongjie felt his blood boiling.
Inside the submarine, there was silence, broken only by a sudden "crack" from the loudspeaker.
The echo sounder was beeping louder and sharper, the propeller noise was intensifying, and the torpedo fire control computer was running its calculations.
The conning tower was dead silent. The entire submarine was enveloped in a solemn hush. Now, all sounds ca from outside the hull: the chanical clatter, the sonar pings from the Japanese fleet's escort ships as they probed the waters.
"Raise the periscope. Record! Distance, 1,500 ters. Record! Bearing, 335. Record, target angle starboard 30 degrees!"
He saw it!
The mont the periscope rose, Zou Tongjie lifted it and pressed his eyes to the eyepiece. The target appeared in his view.
A massive ship, as imposing as a mountain, ca into his sight. In that instant, he recognized the battleship—the very one they had once feared and longed for.
Now, it was right in the crosshairs of his periscope!
"My God, it's... it's the Yamato!"
Zou Tongjie stared in astonishnt at the target in the lens. The enormous hull of the Yamato had barged straight into his view, and sweat trickled down his forehead.
His heart pounded faster, his throat felt even drier.
That's it. No more hesitation. This is the one!
This is the big fish!
If they succeeded, it would be worth it even if the whole village threw a feast!
Sotis, people need a bit of daring, and for sailors, that spirit of adventure is even more essential. In essence, a qualified naval officer is first and foremost a gambler, because they often have to take risks.
If you win, you take all.
If you lose, you lose everything!
"Torpedoes ready!"
As he left the eyepiece, Zou Tongjie gave the order in Mandarin tinged with a Fujian accent. His voice, a little hoarse, was drawn out. But unlike before, today his tone was taut with tension.
There was only one chance. Would they win, or lose?
Mazu, bless us!
"Torpedoes ready!"
"Fire!"
The order burst from Zou Tongjie's throat—firm and decisive. As he gave the command, he felt sweat gathering in his palm.
"Fire!"
"Fire!"
The torpedo officer echoed the command twice, each ti as firm and decisive as ever. With the order, the torpedo operator pressed the firing button.
As always, there was a jolt and the sound of rushing water. Two German-made electric torpedoes shot out from the submarine, their dark gray bodies plunging into the sea, racing toward the target.
At that mont, the sea was rough with high winds and heavy rain. The roar of the waves and the patter of raindrops on the water made the underwater environnt extrely noisy.
Even so, feeling the tremor after the torpedoes were fired, Zou Tongjie frowned slightly.
There was no turning back. If they were discovered now, death would likely await them!
There was a brief pause.
"Raise the periscope!"
Through the periscope, he felt as if he could clearly see the two torpedo wakes! The torpedoes were heading straight for the target. Now, nothing could stop them from hitting—not even God!
"Lower the periscope!"
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