Chapter 639: Admiral Scheer's Bombers
Berlin — The Forget-Your-Worries Palace.
In the warm comfort of the salon, Wilhelm II and Admiral Scheer sat chatting amicably. The emperor seemed particularly pleased with the navy's recent performance.
"So it seems our tactics are indeed working," Wilhelm II said with great interest as he flipped through a naval battle briefing.
"I believe so, Your Majesty," Admiral Scheer replied. "As long as we avoid forcing a breakthrough and instead focus on inflicting sustained losses on the British, over time we will close the gap."
"Excellent," Wilhelm II nodded, then leaned forward, eyes glowing. "This is the battle of the century, Admiral. Germany is facing an unprecedented crisis. If the navy can break the British blockade… do you know what that means?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Scheer said solemnly. "It means we will win this war."
"Not just this war," Wilhelm II's voice rose in excitement. "If the German navy succeeds, we will be able to reverse the blockade and isolate Britain. We'll dethrone them from their place as the world's foremost power!"
At that point, Britain's global prestige would collapse, and its empire could fracture under pressure. Germany would have the opportunity to absorb former British colonies and inherit their global reach.
Suddenly, Admiral Scheer shifted the tone of the conversation.
"Your Majesty, there is a small issue. I'll need the Chief of the General Staff's assistance."
Wilhelm II nodded thoughtfully. "He should be arriving soon. I'll make sure he fully cooperates."
Right on cue, two knocks came at the door. A guard entered and announced, "Your Majesty, the Chief of the General Staff has arrived."
"Let him in," Wilhelm II said, adjusting his posture and placing an extra cup on the table beside the seat to his left.
Falkenhayn entered the room, straight-backed and precise. Seeing Admiral Scheer seated beside the emperor, he instantly understood the nature of the meeting.
I should never have taught him how to counter the British Royal Navy, Falkenhayn thought bitterly. Now I'm probably going to pay for it.
Wilhelm II gestured warmly for him to sit and poured him a drink.
"You are the pillars of the Empire, gentlemen. We are proud of you both," the emperor declared. "Army and Navy may differ, but we share the same goal: victory for the German Empire!"
Raising his glass to Falkenhayn, Wilhelm asked, "Wouldn't you agree, Chief of Staff?"
"Of course, Your Majesty," Falkenhayn replied, lifting his glass. "Everything for victory. For Germany!"
"Very good!" Wilhelm said, now turning toward Admiral Scheer as if signaling that he could now raise the matter at hand.
Admiral Scheer reached out to shake Falkenhayn's hand first. "Let me begin by thanking you, Chief of Staff. Your prior suggestions have been incredibly useful. Based on your tactical advice, we've launched a series of operations that produced concrete results…"
"I've heard," Falkenhayn cut him off tersely. "Let's get to the point. What do you want?"
There was a slight edge in his voice, suggesting frustration at being placed in a position where refusal would be difficult.
"Alright then," Scheer remained composed, knowing he needed Falkenhayn's help. "I need aircraft."
Falkenhayn snorted silently. He'd already guessed this much. What else could the navy need from the army? Not infantry, surely. Not tanks.
Feigning surprise, Falkenhayn asked, "Oh? As far as I know, the navy has its own aircraft. And anyway, army planes aren't exactly designed for naval operations."
(A contemporary image appeared of the German Navy's Friedrichshafen FF33E floatplane—a slow, early seaplane.)
"You're absolutely right, Chief of Staff," Scheer replied. "But our seaplanes are outdated. Their maximum speed is just 100 km/h, and their range barely 400 km. They're hopelessly inferior to the British models."
Wilhelm II chimed in, "Indeed! British seaplanes can reach 120 km/h. That has cost Admiral Scheer dearly in terms of air superiority."
"Without control of the skies," he continued, "the British are using Caproni bombers to scout our waters at will. You understand the implications of this, don't you?"
"They know exactly where we are, while we know nothing about them."
Falkenhayn frowned. "Caproni bombers?"
"Yes," Wilhelm nodded. Then, noting Falkenhayn's change in expression, asked, "Is there a problem?"
But Falkenhayn quickly recalculated. Maybe this wasn't a disaster—it could be turned to Germany's advantage. Raising an eyebrow, he told Scheer:
"Sorry, Admiral, but I might not be able to help. That aircraft you're referring to—the Caproni—it's manufactured at Charles's aircraft plant."
"Right now, we don't have any fighters capable of catching it. The newest Fokker E.II is only marginally faster, and even that's barely noticeable."
The E.II had a top speed of 140 km/h. The Caproni bomber could do 137. That 3 km/h gap meant little in air combat—it wasn't enough to close the distance and engage successfully.
But Admiral Scheer didn't seem discouraged.
"I know, Chief of Staff. I looked into all of that before I came."
Falkenhayn was puzzled. "Then what exactly are you asking for?"
"I have an idea," Scheer explained. "Charles's approach gave me inspiration. Since they can use bombers as reconnaissance planes from shore bases, why can't we?"
"You mean, use bombers to scout enemy fleets?" Falkenhayn was beginning to understand—and to see where this was going.
"Yes," Scheer nodded. "If both sides have recon, we at least level the playing field. Then it comes down to real capability."
But Falkenhayn remained skeptical. "Even if we build bombers for that purpose, they'd be vulnerable. The British have Camel fighters that would hunt them down like hawks chasing sparrows."
The Sopwith Camel, with a top speed of 190 km/h, was currently the king of the skies. No existing German aircraft could match it.
"I know," Scheer said calmly. "But I also know this—Chief of Staff, the Camel's maximum range is only about 485 km."
Falkenhayn froze for a moment.
This one's done his homework. Scheer had clearly researched the numbers thoroughly. He probably even discussed this with pilots and intelligence staff before making the trip.
Falkenhayn realized grimly: This isn't going to be a cheap request.
(End of Chapter 639)
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