Chapter 1013 High Seas Fleet
"Wind bearing 230, force 4..."
Several staff officers around the field constantly reported wind direction and speed changes.
The navigation officer held a small flag representing the ship's position, judging current speed and sail-handling essentials based on wind force and speed.
The gunnery officer held a long bamboo pole. Its length roughly corresponded to the proportionally scaled ship gun direct-fire range. When indirect fire was needed, he would mark the fire zone nearby with the pole, then estimate hit probability.
The first officer held a "sea chart" and notebook, constantly recording.
Ming Qiu sometimes walked with the formation, sometimes stood at the sidelines watching and thinking. From the sidelines, "blue forces" playing pirates or government troops constantly rushed over—sometimes two or three, sometimes a large group, sometimes from different directions forming encirclements and interceptions...
These people were genuine pirates by origin, arranging various formations according to their old pirate habits. The "fleet" Ming Qiu led had to find the most effective responses under various battlefield conditions.
Li Di stretched his neck with interest to watch this tactical drill from the sidelines. Several other curious Senators stood nearby. One of them was Ming Qiu's son Ming Lang—watching his father's serious yet enthusiastic expression, his own expression was both happy and helpless.
His father wanting to make a name at sea was something he could well understand as a son—though he personally had no interest whatsoever. However, riding a thousand-ton black-smoke-belching "domestic ship" that also had to go to war—he was genuinely worried. Ming Lang as a Senator was somewhat half-hearted, not enthusiastic about the absolute confidence and absolute self-assurance that permeated the Senate above and below. In his view, the entire industrial system the Senate had built was a system that gathered counterfeit and inferior products—filled with copycat flavor. Including their current political system and organizational structure, even more so.
His father was going to command a counterfeit navy filled with inferior products to go to war. Of course, he was worried.
But this wasn't up to him, nor up to Li Mei.
Ming Lang had received the document about this appointment a week ago—with his years of experience in the organization department, he quickly discovered this appointment violated organizational procedures, or rather, didn't conform to "rule of law" principles.
The separation of the Naval People's Commissariat and Naval Command was originally from the Second Plenary Session, with the intent of separating military administration from military command—a measure for civilian government control of military forces. The person serving as People's Commissar didn't necessarily have to be a civilian non-military person; but this military-administrative department head should under no circumstances hold military command positions.
Since his father's position was Naval People's Commissar, concurrently holding the admiral position of the high seas fleet—a military command position—was clearly a violation. During Operation Engine, even if his professional skills were desperately needed, he should be given a fleet chief advisor or similar consulting position. Those actually holding military command had to be professional military personnel not involved in military administration.
Therefore, he immediately met with Wen Desi and raised this issue.
Wen Desi proposed a compromise: They could first remove Ming Qiu from Naval People's Commissar, then appoint him as fleet admiral. After Operation Engine, relieve him of fleet duties, then reappoint him as Naval People's Commissar. Ming Lang said this plan, while conforming to organizational procedures, seemed quite forced. Moreover, immediately reappointing right after Operation Engine ended made the position appointments seem too casual and frivolous.
"Furthermore, the procedures for first dismissing then appointing are too cumbersome—" Ming Lang said carefully. "Although Army and Navy People's Commissars aren't directly elected positions, dismissal and appointment still require Senate Standing Committee approval." He actually disapproved of the leader's plan, but had to be diplomatic since the leader had already said this much.
"We're in the pioneering stage now. Some things can be flexible—don't be too rigid." Chen Haiyang proposed another plan: "Why not appoint Old Ming as Chief Advisor, stipulating that he acts as commander when the admiral position is vacant..."
Specifically, Li Di would concurrently serve as fleet admiral. Li Di of course had no command capability, so Ming Qiu would actually command. Because it was only an appointment as Chief Advisor, it didn't need to be elevated to such a level, and procedures were much simpler.
However, the proposal to appoint as Chief Advisor drew Chen Haiyang's opposition—after all, going to war as Chief Advisor versus going as Commander-in-Chief were completely different concepts. Honor belonged to the commander, not the advisor. Just as the great victory at Dien Bien Phu was organized and commanded by Chinese advisors—Chen Geng played a decisive role—but the final glory belonged to Vo Nguyen Giap.
"With Old Ming's current status and position going to war, it's nothing more than seeking posthumous fame. Old Ming is already in his sixties, unlike us young people who have plenty of opportunities ahead." Chen Haiyang continued to insist.
"This probably can't be gotten around." Wen Desi said. "How about this: Just have the flagship fly Ming Qiu's admiral's flag."
Chen Haiyang felt this was the only option—especially since Ming Lang absolutely wouldn't agree to the dismiss-then-appoint plan.
"I also agree with this arrangement," Wen Desi said. "However, this still needs to be discussed at a meeting before deciding."
He continued: "I heard the Navy is naming the fleet the High Seas Fleet?"
Chen Haiyang nodded. "There's indeed such a plan, but it's not officially decided yet. Also, we're temporarily not planning to organize a fleet command—we lack sufficient officers. It's just a nominal title. Specific organization..."
"How it's organized doesn't matter," Wen Desi interrupted. "The name 'High Seas Fleet' is too unlucky—have you forgotten the rainbow at Scapa Flow? I think 'Ocean Fleet' would be better."
Chen Haiyang thought this trivial matter hardly warranted personal attention. But thinking carefully, the name "High Seas Fleet" was indeed unlucky. Operation Engine was the Navy's first large-scale naval operation; Director Wen wanting good luck was human nature.
September 26, 1631. Dawn had broken over St. Mary's Bay north of Hong Kong Island. Morning light slanted across the fleet concentrated to the maximum extent under the Senate's command since D-Day.
The Navy's anchorage was at Causeway Bay, located at Hong Kong Island's central bay area, very close to St. Mary's Bay's western exit channel.
Around Causeway Bay anchorage, many undulating hillock islets dotted the waters. Most were barren with scattered fishing villages. Now, these fishing villages had all been relocated. Key position islets had observation posts monitoring surrounding waters and land. From the sea, one could see the Morning Star flag flying on Victoria Peak—that was the recently completed fort.
From the bay, one could see Central Pier's enormous Hong Kong Fortress—though named a trading post, that huge square castle-shaped building and the cannons on corner bastions clearly declared military force.
Causeway Bay anchorage was large enough to accommodate the entire Senate Navy, and far from merchant ship lanes. This was the newly established Ocean Fleet's standby anchorage. Since Operation Engine began, the newly formed Ocean Fleet Command had migrated here from Lingao.
Moored to the anchorage's red buoys was the Ocean Fleet Chief Advisor and acting fleet admiral's flagship—Rear Admiral's 1,500-ton cruiser Lichun. Through the ship's wireless telegraph, it could communicate directly with Bopu's Naval Department. Around Lichun, sixty-eight various vessels and numerous small craft were assembled, comprising most of the Ocean Fleet's main surface forces.
The First Fleet directly commanded by Rear Admiral Ming Qiu included the cruiser Lichun. Together with the first-class gunboats Chedian, Yufeng, Chenglang, and Yangbo, they formed the fleet's main strength.
Lichun held the center, surrounded by four first-class gunboats. Other vessels moored on the perimeter protected the main warships from enemy surprise attack: the 3rd, 5th, 13th, and 14th Auxiliary Boat Squadrons. Each squadron had four auxiliary boats.
All auxiliary boat squadrons participating in Operation Engine had been reorganized. Any vessel with standard displacement below 200 tons was eliminated, replaced with larger-tonnage ships. Due to time constraints, shipboard cannons hadn't yet been refitted. But equipment standards and ship conditions surpassed the Pearl River Estuary Battle.
The Second Fleet's flagship, first-class gunboat Zhenyang, and its subordinate first-class gunboats Nongchao and Daishuang, plus second-class gunboat Fubo, were moored not far from the First Fleet. Besides these four main warships, another five auxiliary boat squadrons were under its command.
At their outermost perimeter were four fast colliers converted from H800s to sail-steam hybrid power: Haifeng, Haiyu, Haikang, Haifu. When necessary, they would accompany the fleet for at-sea coaling operations.
This was Operation Engine's naval main force. North of the main force were twenty-one single-mast and double-mast patrol boats under Coast Guard Command; the First Ocean-Going Spar Torpedo Boat Battalion's sixteen spar torpedo boats; the First Transport Squadron's EMS ship and its twenty-four H800 Hexie-class vessels; the Second Transport Squadron's thirty-three miscellaneous transport ships.
This dark-colored massive fleet lay silently at anchor. Every ship was preparing to sail. Having taken on full coal and supplies at the naval base, their waterlines were pressed very low. Across the entire anchorage, only the navy yellow launches with thick smoke pouring from tall smokestacks made putt-putt sounds, frequently coming and going. On those warships, except for communication signal flags occasionally fluttering, there were no signs of activity. Though the anchorage was quiet, everyone felt excitement pervading the entire fleet.
This day was D-Day Anniversary. From landing day, exactly three years had passed. The Senate, from nothing, had achieved what could be called earth-shaking accomplishments. Everyone's morale was high. Whether Senators or naturalized citizens, all realized they were embarking on another great undertaking. Everyone was confident it would add a new glorious page for the Senate.
(End of Chapter)