Chapter 133: Britannia’s Missing Technology Tree
“Ask the Franks or Italians to send troops for the Empire? Will they agree? What great conditions would that require? And how many troops do you need from them?”
Facing Minister Walton’s wild idea, Prime Minister Asquith instinctively fired off several questions in rapid succession.
These were all difficulties he immediately thought of that might arise in implementing the matter. If Walton hadn’t even thought of solutions to these problems, there was no need to discuss the proposal further.
Fortunately, Walton had clearly given it deep thought. He sorted through the Prime Minister’s questions a bit and began answering them one by one:
“I think convincing the Franks or Italians to send troops is still very possible. In terms of combat effectiveness, I prefer requesting troops from the Franks.
Although this year they also suffered over 100,000 casualties while trying to coordinate a rescue during the Battle of Ypres in early spring. Later, they lost 200,000 men to the Germanians’ attack on Calais and their own subsequent attempts to retake Calais. The new counterattack launched in Champagne and Artois has cost them 300,000 to 400,000 men so far. The French Army’s total losses this year are around 700,000.
However, with Italy joining our camp, the Franks can at least free up the troops they had defending the Southern Front against the Italians for other battlefields. If I am to convince the Franks, we must tell them: stop wasting lives in Champagne and Artois; they cannot counterattack the territory the Germanians have already occupied in the short term.
If we draw some of their surplus troops from Southern France directly to the Eastern Front via the Mediterranean Sea, I think they can at least squeeze out 20 divisions, 300,000 men.
However, if the Franks simply refuse to contribute, we can only choose the Italians as a backup option. Lord Belfort can negotiate with the Italians again; they should also be able to provide 20 divisions, 300,000 men.
Since entering the war, the Italians have been locked in fierce combat with Austria on the Slovenia front line for two months, advancing only just over 30 kilometers, with cumulative losses exceeding 100,000 men. So far, they have only taken the one territory of Malta Island that we ceded to them; other places have not been fulfilled due to their poor combat performance in our previous diplomatic wager.
However, Italy can mobilize over 1 million troops. Even after losing 100,000 men, they can still draw another 300,000 for elsewhere, since they only need to worry about the short Isonzo River front line.
Moreover, if Italy is willing to send these troops, we can promise: the portions of Egypt that were previously agreed to be ceded to them only after they capture Trieste and the Slovenia Region will still be given to them as long as they send the troops this time.”
The Franks have already lost 700,000 men in the first six months of this year, while Italy has only lost 100,000. In terms of willingness to sustain further losses, the Italians are definitely more resilient.
But the Italian Army’s combat effectiveness is far inferior to the French Army, which is a well-known indisputable fact. Pulling in the French Army would of course be best.
After hearing this, Prime Minister Asquith thought the plan was quite good, mainly because it did not require the Britannian Empire to pay with its existing colonies.
The Foreign Minister had already promised some land to the Italians, which they failed to take themselves. Now it was just extending the fulfillment conditions on promises already made once, which would be easy to explain to Parliament and the people.
“If you only need to borrow 300,000 troops, how many people will that total in all? How will the other departments source the manpower?” Seeing the Prime Minister wavering, Army Minister Lloyd George, fearing the Army would be shortchanged again, hurriedly raised this question.
Walton Spencer also gave his final offer quite straightforwardly: “The Army provides 200,000 men: 50,000 seasoned veterans with half a year of experience, 150,000 new recruits with two months of experience. Additionally, gather 300,000 men from all colonies somehow, plus 300,000 from the Franks or Italians, totaling 800,000 for all Eastern Mediterranean operations. Deploy the first 200,000 men; after they land and secure a foothold, commit the remaining 600,000 in batches.
I’ve already reconnoitered: after the Hungarian and Balkans campaigns, the Germanian 10th Army Group has been redeployed to the southern wing of the Polish salient, also guarding against the Lusha Army’s heavy troop concentrations south from Poland for a counterattack. The Austrian 3rd and 5th Army Groups have also been pulled to the Krakow-Galicia line to face off against the Lusha Army.
Currently on the front in Romania and the narrow strip along the western edge of the Kievan Rus’ Great Plain, it’s mainly the Germanian 6th Army Group—our old opponent; five months ago at Ypres, our expeditionary force died at their hands!
But fortunately, with Germanian 10th and Austrian 3rd/5th Army Groups redeployed, if we launch operations around the Dardanelles Strait, we’ll only face Ottoman troops directly. If we move fast, the Germanian 6th won’t even arrive in time to reinforce. Even if we’re slow, as long as our 800,000-strong army lands successfully, the Germanian 6th joining the Ottoman remnants won’t be our match!
After successive hard fights, the Germanian 6th has only about 200,000 men left, though I hear they’ve recently incorporated some Austrian troops rescued from the Przemysl Fortress. Even if their total strength breaks 300,000, 800,000 against 300,000 gives us the clear advantage!”
Hearing the Army only needed to directly commit 200,000 men, Lloyd George couldn’t bargain further; this issue was settled.
However, settling manpower didn’t mean settling equipment. Sending 300,000 Italians also required providing the Italian Army with a considerable number of cannons, machine guns, and other support. This was no small sum.
Light weapons like rifles the Italians have themselves, but the Italian Army has a very low proportion of heavy firepower. If we don’t give them machine guns and cannons, they definitely won’t fight diligently.
Lloyd George also held the position of Minister of Armament, so Walton trying to spend others’ resources naturally prompted Lloyd George to force Walton to make up some from his own pot:
“I have no objection to the Army providing manpower. But you say we need to fund the Italian Army with some equipment; this extra expenditure isn’t in the Armament Department’s budget. Since your Naval Ministry insists on pushing this proposal, I demand this portion of production be deducted from your Navy’s budget, materials, and capacity allocation! Providing machine guns and cannons for 300,000 men is no small sum!”
Prime Minister Asquith also thought this quite reasonable; the Navy spent money too lavishly. Now the Army’s reconstruction needed too many resources, plus pulling in allies and providing equipment, so some unnecessary Navy shipbuilding plans definitely had to be cut.
Walton Spencer seemed to have anticipated this; before the meeting, he had already sorted through his own pot, knowing what he could sacrifice to save the rest.
Walton sighed deeply and finally said reluctantly: “I’ve roughly calculated the production capacity and budget. The Navy is willing to abandon the first two ‘Hawkins-class’ heavy cruisers just about to start construction, and the latter three already approved for budgets and materials over the next three years, totaling five ships!”
At Walton’s words, even Prime Minister Asquith was slightly moved, clearly knowing the Navy was showing great sincerity by cutting lavish, unnecessary spending projects.
The Imperial Navy had not previously built “heavy cruisers.” Before the battlecruisers entered service in 1907, in the pre-dreadnought era, the Empire had built quite a few “armored cruisers.”
But after battlecruisers appeared, armored cruisers were phased out entirely and no longer developed. It wasn’t until the World War broke out that the Royal Navy found there were too few battlecruisers to widely counter enemy raiding squadrons. Using light cruisers or destroyers against enemy light cruisers or even armored cruisers offered no performance advantage.
Thus, the Britannians began reconsidering “whether old-style armored cruisers could be refitted with steam turbines for higher speed, while retaining 8-inch main gun firepower and armor that could withstand enemy 6-inch light cruiser main guns and battleship secondary guns.”
Following this line of thinking, the later “heavy cruiser” was about to be born. It could be said that from 1907 to 1915, the heavy cruiser tech tree had originally been abandoned.
But this heavy cruiser plan was originally a tentative scheme proposed when resources weren’t so tight. Later in the late World War I, five “Hawkins-class” heavy cruisers were built—actually, the class should have been called “Cavendish-class,” as the lead ship was initially named Cavendish.
However, after completion, these ships saw little use; in the Germanian war’s later stages, the High Seas Fleet was locked up, with no more large-scale raids. The Britannians then repurposed the lead ship “Cavendish” into an experimental aircraft carrier, renaming her “Furious.”
Precisely because the lead ship became a carrier, the remaining four of this heavy cruiser class were named after the original second ship, “Hawkins.”
To be fair, the heavy cruiser tech line was indeed somewhat redundant and wasteful, a product of trial and error. After World War I in later years, this failed product should have exited the historical stage.
But later things like the Purple Peanut Navy Treaty emerged, limiting countries’ concentrated resources on battleships, battlecruisers, and other capital ships. With design departments shackled, heavy cruisers were pulled out of the archives again, churned out with a “build if we can” mentality.
With Britannians’ resources stretched thin now, they obviously had to cut all those experimental projects to concentrate on sustaining the war.
Sacrificing five heavy cruiser projects to provide some cannons and machine guns for 300,000 Italians was reasonable, also scrapping the entire heavy cruiser tech tree in the process.
To be honest, if Lelouch heard this news, he would think Walton’s cuts wise; the latter four of this heavy cruiser class were indeed useless. But the Britannians’ loss was real, as this inadvertently delayed their carrier development by at least several years.
Historically, most early carriers were converted from failed heavy cruisers. It was precisely because heavy cruisers were built but proved useless that countries thought to repurpose them into carriers.
Sometimes, disruptive innovation hatches from trial-and-error useless waste. Refusing to build the useless, pursuing only high efficiency, leaves no room for blooming innovation.
This move didn’t cause Britannia to lose the carrier line forever, but this decision definitely delayed the Britannian carrier line by three to five years. Shells originally meant for future carriers starting in 1915 would now at earliest move after the war ended, probably 1919 or 1920, before Britannia had resources to consider it.
Yet, even at this moment, Minister Walton Spencer made such a great sacrifice, offering to completely cancel all five heavy cruiser construction plans and the heavy cruiser tech tree.
After calculation, Minister of Armament Lloyd George still felt the Navy’s sacrifice insufficient.
“Providing extra cannons and machine guns for 20 divisions means at least over 500 cannons, thousands of machine guns, plus other supporting ammunition and supplies. Simply cutting five heavy cruiser plans and follow-on development can’t muster that much resources and capacity! Plus, we have to equip the colonial troops too; the Navy must cut at least another portion equivalent to what was just offered!”
Lloyd George spoke coldly, all business.
Walton Spencer tried to argue his case again but got no support, so he gritted his teeth and threw out a condition he had considered before but really didn’t want to offer unless forced:
“The Navy is willing to cancel all planned 18 subsequent submarine construction plans, as well as follow-on special submarine R&D and prototype plans! And we commit to building no more submarines during this war!”
After Walton made this commitment, the Armament and Army Ministries calculated and finally made the accounts work.
Walton’s choice also fit the current situation.
Submarines were for weak navies against strong ones. The British Royal Navy didn’t need submarines to strike Germanian merchant ships, so submarines could only be used for ambushes and sneak attacks.
Battleships were for fleet decisive battles, battlecruisers for pursuit and counter-raiding, light cruisers for taking out enemy mass torpedo screens, destroyers for screening and torpedo attacks.
These four tech trees were the Navy’s minimum essentials, absolutely not to be cut. In the end, to avoid impacting decisive battle strength, heavy cruisers and submarines had to be axed permanently.
This Buckingham Palace blame-sharing negotiation concluded in this form.
Until the war’s end, Britannia would have no new heavy cruisers or submarines, and this butterfly effect meant no new purpose-built carriers either. Blue experimental carriers converted from merchant hulls were still possible, as Britannia had plenty of old scrapped large merchant tonnage inventory. But those carriers had terrible structural strength and speed, unfit for combat, only for carrier aircraft takeoff and landing trials.）
……
After divvying up the blame internally, the Britannians naturally had to immediately go stir trouble and beg from allies.
Foreign Minister Belfort first went to the Franks, talking himself hoarse, and initially quite swayed them.
Belfort also said that if the Franks sent 300,000 troops, Britannia would consider handing over parts of West African Mauritania to France, linking their Algeria in North Africa and Senegal in West Africa—but in fact, this territory had little value, as the inland connecting Mauritania was mostly part of the Sahara Desert.
If the Franks agreed, specifics on which parts of Mauritania to cede and how much could be negotiated in detail.
However, this urgent negotiation lasted only a few days before having to be abandoned due to an incident.
The reason was that in late July, a French counterattack against Germanian occupiers in the Artois region encountered an unexpected twist.
The “unexpected” certainly wasn’t the French Army suffering another heavy defeat and massive casualties—that was entirely expected; they’d been crushed for half a year, losing 400,000 men, and were used to it.
The truly unexpected detail was that during this French offensive, when engaging enemy line-filling troops, they surprisingly encountered enemies armed with Mosin-Nagants and M1910 Maxim heavy machine guns!
The sound of Mauser G98s and Mosin-Nagants had quite a big difference, especially when combat scaled up and hundreds or thousands of Mosin-Nagants fired across a battlefield sector—it was hard not to notice.
The French offensive in Artois lasted several days, costing thousands of casualties while killing over a thousand enemies, and by chance captured a few small groups of enemy line-filling prisoners.
Seeing at least over a hundred Mosin-Nagants and several M1910 heavy machine guns picked up from the battlefield, plus those dozens of prisoners speaking Lusha, the French generals were furious.
They harshly interrogated the prisoners on why they were here.
The final answer was: “The Tsar is tyrannical, recklessly expanding territory, warring on the Balkans, treating people like nothing! We have joined the army resisting the Tsar, to follow allies back to Petersburg and execute the tyrant!
You Franks, for your own interests, to avenge yourselves on the Germanians, egged the tyrant on to attack the Balkans!”
The French generals were so enraged they nearly exploded.
Only after severe torture did they confirm that at least battalion-scale Lusha prisoners had been refitted by the Germanians and urgently filled into the Artois and Champagne front lines.
The Franks lost several thousand men, a small half killed by the refitted Lusha prisoners; the Lusha prisoners also lost several hundred in line-filling, with even more wounded and sick.
This outcome temporarily severely damaged French-Lusha relations and caused small-scale unrest among the already weary French frontline troops. Though not as exaggerated in scale and intensity as Earth’s historical 1917 “Nivelle Offensive,” it demanded high-level attention.
In a freewheeling country like France, morale issues easily amplified; a bunch of politicians and Members of Parliament started bickering again. To avoid unrest, all direct cooperation with the Lusha people was temporarily frozen.
Thus, Foreign Minister Belfort’s hard-won “seek French aid for Lusha” plan had to be shelved.
Moreover, due to the time delay, Navy Minister Walton’s Dardanelles Strait landing plan had to be postponed by at least 20 days again.
With the Franks refusing to send troops, Belfort hurriedly approached the Italians again, offering heavy incentives, saying “as long as Italy sends 300,000 troops, regardless of results or Isonzo River front progress, Britannia will cede all coastal land west of Alexandria in Egypt by 120 kilometers further west to Italy.”
In the end, the land-hungry Italians bit, agreeing to dispatch 20 divisions, 300,000 men as soon as possible, escorted by some old Britannian warships, to join the Eastern Mediterranean landing.
But precisely because of Britannia’s delays in planning, this landing could not enter the history books as “the first large-scale landing of World War I.”
Because the Germanians had already launched, ahead of them on the Black Sea Coast, a multi-branch cooperative campaign against the Lusha people, aided by two supporting feints.
And the mastermind behind all this was the staff officer of the Germanian 6th Army Group, Colonel Lelouch von Ritter Hunt.
