Chapter 387: Bombing of London
The "Camel" aircraft was indeed outdated equipment for Charles. At this point, his aircraft engines had already reached 180 horsepower, whereas the engines installed on the "Camel" only had 150 horsepower.
In this regard, it should be noted that the Germans were ahead; their engines also had 180 horsepower and achieved this figure even earlier than Charles.
The difference was that the Germans mounted their most advanced engines on Zeppelin airships to enhance speed and redeploy them to the battlefield.
(Note: The Germans stubbornly believed that airships could bring them victory, despite the advent of rockets and incendiary machine gun rounds capable of destroying them. However, the Germans persisted with airships until 1918, when the last one was destroyed, equipped with a 200-horsepower engine.)
…
Night fell over London, and the dim lights danced upon the surface of the Thames. A cool evening breeze brushed gently through the treetops, carrying a barely perceptible hint of moisture.
The First Lord of the Admiralty, clad in his pajamas, entered his study. Without turning on the lights, he hurriedly poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. He then poured another and held it in his hand before lighting a cigar with practiced ease. Only then did he turn on the light and settle into the rocking chair by the window, gazing out at the night.
The cigar in his fingers burned slowly, its swirling smoke seeming to manifest his unease, growing denser in the room until it filled the entire study.
The First Lord of the Admiralty was hesitating over the deal involving the "Camel" aircraft.
It wasn't that the deal was unprofitable; exchanging five artillery production lines for the safety of British airspace was imperative.
However, his nature was to want everything all at once.
What concerned him was that the British Army would be unable to equip new artillery for the next six months or even longer.
The crux of the matter lay in the fact that the development of the 6-inch, 26-cwt howitzer was not only aimed at Germany's 105mm howitzer but also targeted the French.
The French had 105mm howitzers as well, along with various tanks and Charles' infantry regiments—all of which would crumble before the new artillery.
Now, however, the artillery production lines were to be sold to France, leaving the British Army with neither advantage nor secrecy.
Thus, when the First Lord of the Admiralty received General Winter's telegram, he flew into a rage:
"This is outright extortion! It's just an airplane, yet he wants five artillery production lines."
"Does he even know what five artillery production lines mean? With them, we could win this war!"
"Besides, aren't we allies? Isn't technical sharing supposed to be standard practice between allies?"
After some thought, the First Lord of the Admiralty refrained from replying to Charles. Instead, he sent a telegram to Clemenceau, a member of the French Army Committee, vehemently denouncing Charles:
"Five production lines—this is not a trade; this is a deliberate attempt to cripple Britain's new artillery. It is clearly detrimental to the war effort."
"We are not without aircraft technology. We simply hope to exchange knowledge to improve both sides' aircraft capabilities, ultimately defeating the enemy."
"This would benefit both of us, yet Charles has become an unpredictable obstacle."
…
The First Lord of the Admiralty hoped to pressure Charles through the French government to either cancel or reduce the "price."
However, Clemenceau was no fool. He straightforwardly replied:
"Apologies, Your Excellency, but this is Charles' private property. He holds complete industrial rights, and we have no authority to intervene."
"Moreover, we see nothing inappropriate in Charles' actions."
"His demands regarding your production lines are also motivated by technological exchange, which would benefit both of us."
The First Lord of the Admiralty was left speechless, his unreasonable behavior exposed. Fixated on others' obligations, he had neglected his own responsibilities. It was only when faced with "a taste of his own medicine" that he realized his own shortcomings.
…
The First Lord of the Admiralty gently rocked his chair, its creaking sounds accompanying his thoughts.
Should they really exchange five artillery production lines?
Or perhaps urgently modify these five production lines to create a temporary "export version"? But that might not be appropriate—Charles wasn't a fool. If the artillery turned out to be an "export version," the aircraft he provided would also be an "export version."
The result of such a move would still leave Britain at a disadvantage, with France retaining control of air supremacy.
While the First Lord of the Admiralty hesitated, a distant muffled boom broke the silence. A ball of fire rose in the darkness, soon transforming into a faint plume of smoke.
Startled, the First Lord of the Admiralty sat bolt upright. He assumed an accident had occurred, perhaps an explosion at a flour mill or munitions factory.
But he quickly realized this was not the case. The explosions came in rapid succession, one after another, all from the same direction.
"What’s going on?" He stood, pushed open the window, and peered toward the source of the flames beyond the rows of houses.
It resembled an enemy bombardment, but London, far from the front lines, couldn’t possibly be struck by artillery.
While the First Lord of the Admiralty puzzled over this, a piercing and prolonged air raid siren sounded. Lights flickered on across the once-dark residential district as people leaned out of their windows or climbed onto rooftops, trying to discern what was happening.
Yet the dark sky revealed nothing. The explosions continued, echoing throughout the city.
Searchlight beams crisscrossed the air like sharp swords, probing the heavens but finding nothing.
The First Lord of the Admiralty hurriedly rummaged through his desk, pulling out a pair of binoculars. He rushed back to the window, scanning the sky with trembling hands.
Just then, the moon emerged from behind the clouds, illuminating a massive object in the sky.
The First Lord of the Admiralty was struck by a wave of dread as he beheld it—a giant structure straight out of a Wells or Verne novel. Its silver hull gleamed faintly in the moonlight, and objects seemed to be falling from it.
Moments later, explosions erupted below.
"Your Excellency!" The door to the study burst open as a belatedly arrived guard rushed to the First Lord's side.
"What is that?" the First Lord demanded, his voice tinged with fear.
"It’s an airship, Your Excellency," the guard replied. "A German Zeppelin."
The First Lord of the Admiralty grunted, glaring at the guard:
"How did they manage to reach here?"
"Don’t we have planes or rockets?"
"Why didn’t we destroy it en route and instead let it fly over London and drop bombs on our heads?"
The guard remained silent; it wasn’t his place to answer. The furious First Lord had clearly directed his questions at the wrong person.