Chapter 1037: The Gibraltar Farce

Lütjens had overthought it… this was the tragic fact. After a brief thought, he concluded that the Allied fleet would retreat to the north, as that was their shortest way home. He felt that the enemy, in order to confuse him, would take the most unlikely escape route. This was the best answer he could come up with by thinking from the enemy’s perspective.

But who could have imagined that the cunning Dudley Pound would use the most childish escape route, avoiding his meticulously planned pursuit. After the fleet had advanced at full speed and sent out carrier aircraft to search, Lütjens found he had come up with nothing. As it happened, a German patrol plane at that moment reported on the situation ahead, which he was most anxious to know.

“We have not seen any enemy fleet pass by, not even a trace. British fleets rarely pass through here. If they had, we would have spotted them easily.” The returning “Butcher” reconnaissance plane reported what they had seen. And so Lütjens knew he had indeed been duped.

To find an enemy fleet in the vast ocean is an extremely difficult thing, especially since Lütjens did not dare to stray too far from the Strait of Gibraltar. His other mission was to blockade this strait and deal with any potential Italian fleet. So, having chosen the wrong direction at the beginning, he was doomed to lose this big Allied fish.

He slapped the chart table with his palm in frustration, and then reluctantly gave the order to return to Gibraltar: “Return to base! If you run into the Italian Navy, take all this frustration out on them for me! Damn it, who commanded that Allied fleet? It wasn’t that old fox Dudley Pound, was it?”

The U.S. military had really made a huge blunder this time. In order to get away from the slower transport convoy, the fleet carrying tens of thousands of American troops could only head south along the coastline, and now they couldn’t even go home. They would have to be resupplied in South Africa or South America and then take a long detour to return.

Meanwhile, the main, faster British fleet was racing to the southwest. Only after they had shaken off the German fleet did everyone finally let out a long sigh of relief. At least they had not been annihilated by the Germans at sea. The spark had been preserved.

The transport fleet had over 270 Sherman tanks on board, but unfortunately, the number of American troops was not as large as originally planned. The two American divisions numbered only about 40,000 men. Even with the necessary logistical support personnel and a Canadian light infantry division, the total was only a little over 60,000.

After careful consideration, these 60,000-plus Allied troops would ultimately be sent to India. Only then would a study be made as to whether these troops would go to the Middle East or attack the Japanese in Southeast Asia. In short, these poor bastards would be adrift at sea for a very, very long time, and could only rely on the unreliable logistical support from Africa.

But compared to Italy’s current situation, their luck was already quite good. If the Germans weren’t so busy incorporating as much of Italy’s inheritance as possible into their own pockets, they might really have given chase and made an example of this Allied ocean fleet.

Just as Admiral Dudley Pound was breaking out in a cold sweat, having escaped from the jaws of the German naval air arm, the Italian Mediterranean main fleet was on the verge of reaching the Strait of Gibraltar. This fleet was no motley crew, but the true main fleet of the Italian Navy!

The battleship Roma, due to various problems, was currently stationed in Alexandria and was not in this fleet. But Italy’s other battleships had all been brought out, including the Vittorio Veneto, which had once partnered with the Germans, and the Conte di Cavour.

Just in battleships alone, the Italians had sortied four. This was a far cry from the half-hearted effort they had shown when “supporting” the Germans. If you added in the heavy cruisers, it could be said that the Italians had put down a real stake this time. It was a true, all-in fight.

If you also counted the German batteries at Gibraltar, all the respectable heavy cannons were aimed at the strait. If the Italian Navy got close and opened up with a surprise bombardment, they could indeed cause a lot of trouble for the Germans. At the very least, after two salvos, it was a question whether the Germans could even traverse their guns to return fire.

Inside a turret of the Italian battleship Vittorio Veneto, several loaders were looking at their gun captain with strange expressions. They had just received the order to load, and immediately after, they were ordered to aim their guns at the Gibraltar fortress. This order was too bizarre for them, and the atmosphere in the entire turret instantly became heavy.

“What kind of joke is this? Shell the Gibraltar fortress? That’s a German-held position! If we open fire now, aren’t we attacking our own allies?” an Italian sailor, already wearing his life jacket, asked, looking at his officer, and then at the already-loaded cannon.

“Exactly! This whole trip was strange from the start, and now we’re at the Strait of Gibraltar… When we first set out, I thought we were going to the Suez Canal to shell the Allies… Now they’re telling us to shell Gibraltar. Has the fleet admiral gone mad?” another soldier complained unhappily. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to carry out the order, but that the order was simply too bizarre.

The officer in charge also looked helpless. He had had the same thought when he had received this order. And he had thought even further than his men—his own family was in northern Italy. If the Germans, in a rage, were to attack Italy, wouldn’t his hometown be turned into a warzone?

“Hey, something’s not right… Turret 1 hasn’t fired either…” a slightly sharper soldier realized. At this moment, everyone finally noticed that although the order had been given a long time ago, the turret right next to them on this very warship had also not opened fire…

“Order canceled! This is the executive officer! I am relieving the captain of command. He’s gone mad! If he wants to die, we don’t want to be buried with him!” The executive officer’s voice came over the communication channel. “Cancel the order to fire! My God! German planes!”

The order to fire was not carried out by the Italians. Some of the warships had not even loaded their guns. After seeing the German planes appear over the fleet, all these Italian naval vessels had hoisted white flags. Unfortunately, the German army did not cancel the bombing, but dropped a bomb on an Italian warship that had not even fired a shot.

The unlucky one was the battleship Giulio Cesare. The funnel of this old battleship was blown in half. Only then did the Germans see the white bedsheets and flags that were hanging all over the vessel. The Italians were not angered by the bombing. On the contrary, they sent out one clear-text message after another, requesting that the Germans board their ships.

“Quick! Send the message again! My God! I saw the Cesare get hit! Those idiots! Didn’t they see the white flags we put up? Damn it!” The current fleet commander, that is, the executive officer of the Vittorio Veneto, turned his head in a rage and looked at the captain, who had already been tied to a chair. “It’s all because of you, you bastard! You idiot raised by Mussolini!”

“It’s too late! It’s all over! The Germans will sink you! If you fight back, you still have a chance!” Mussolini’s confidant, who was tied to the chair, shouted. There was a hint of triumph in his eyes, because he felt his mission should have been completed. At least the Germans were now attacking this fleet. In just a little while, the Italian fleet would also return fire to protect itself. In that case, the entire situation would be out of control.

Unfortunately, at this very moment, a German voice came over the radio. They demanded that the entire fleet leave immediately, return to a port in southern Italy, and then surrender to Marshal Garibaldi, who was waiting for them there. This demand made the entire fleet breathe a sigh of relief—they did not have to suffer the humiliation of surrendering to the Germans, nor did they have to hand over their country’s warships to them. This was, in any case, a good deal. So this Italian fleet did not delay for a minute and began to turn.

Lütjens, in the end, had not been able to annihilate any fleet at Gibraltar. Because he had gone in the wrong direction, he had ultimately caused a world-shaking naval battle to turn into a multinational naval parade. The navies of Britain, America, Germany, and Italy had come close to engaging in the largest naval battle in human history here. The result was that only one bomb had been dropped, and it had all ended so hastily.

This Italian fleet, which in the end had not carried out Mussolini’s mad decision, had subsequently returned to a southern Italian port, where it had been incorporated into Garibaldi’s forces. The two newest battleships were directly allocated to the German Navy, to form a new, joint Axis Mediterranean fleet, responsible for all Axis naval operations in the Mediterranean theater.

Most of the remaining warships were also ultimately subordinated to this fleet. The difference was that about 10,000 German naval personnel were stationed on these warships, which meant that they had completely taken control of Italy’s maritime power. Mussolini’s influence over the Italian fleet had been completely eliminated, and a new Axis maritime force had been brought under German control.

If one were to add the few warships of the French Navy, the Axis’s naval strength seemed to have already surpassed the hostile Allied Atlantic Fleet. Without considering the difficulties of command, it was even possible that they could change the offensive and defensive situation in the Atlantic.

And there was a piece of good news that was enough to inspire the entire Axis—as long as Libya’s oil production began to ramp up, then the oil shortage that had always plagued the Axis would be greatly alleviated. Those terrifying “Butcher” bombers and those gas-guzzling warships could finally be sortied without any scruples.

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