I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 273: The 28-Day Delay

The Ottoman Empire and Germany were woefully unprepared in the Dardanelles Strait. General Winter's telegram to Charles was filled with excitement:

"Your plan worked brilliantly, Colonel. Our intelligence reveals that of the hundred-plus cannons positioned along the Dardanelles, most are outdated guns from over a decade ago, with fewer than twenty capable of seriously threatening our battleships."

"Moreover, the Ottomans are lacking in supplies—insufficient ammunition, mines, even fuel. Many of their mines are actually Russian-made, floating into the Sea of Marmara after their mooring cables snapped in the Black Sea, only to be 'recycled' by the Ottomans."

"The Ottomans and Germans have clearly fallen for it, and the Dardanelles are wide open. Victory is in sight!"

However, the unfolding battle didn't go as Winter had anticipated. Admiral Carden's "drip-feed tactics" allowed the enemy ample time to rest, regroup, and refine their defensive strategies. Charles could only watch as the Royal Navy's dithering threw away a prime opportunity.

Finally, even the British Admiralty grew frustrated. They sent Carden two direct telegrams: "Any losses incurred in pursuit of victory will be borne by the Admiralty. Focus only on your task and the enemy before you!"

The message was clear: engage boldly. A loss would be on their shoulders, while victory would be his to claim.

Yet Admiral Carden remained unable to confront the battle head-on. The very next day, citing health concerns, he relinquished his post and retreated to the rear for "treatment." Before leaving, he recommended Rear Admiral de Robeck as his successor. However, since Rear Admiral Wemyss had seniority, three more days were wasted in deliberations before de Robeck was promoted to vice-admiral to avoid rank disputes.

By then, it had been 28 days since the fleet first opened fire on the Dardanelles.

…

Charles, his eyes shadowed from fatigue, sent a terse telegram to General Winter: "The battle is lost. The wise choice now is to withdraw."

Later that same afternoon, General Winter arrived at Charles's office, visibly exhausted from his constant involvement with the Dardanelles campaign.

Charles led him into the meeting room, where, without preamble, he declared, "No force feigns an attack for 28 days, General. Even the dullest mind in Berlin now knows our main objective is the Dardanelles."

Winter sighed deeply. "You're right, Colonel. At this point, no amount of feigned operations in the north will divert the Germans. They're sending torpedoes, heavy artillery, and munitions to reinforce the Dardanelles."

"And yet you still have hope for this campaign?" Charles inquired.

In principle, as long as the Ottomans had enough mines, the British fleet would never break through the Dardanelles.

Winter's gaze was hopeful. "Is there no alternative, Colonel? What if we genuinely launched a northern landing…"

Charles shook his head. "It's been nearly a month, General. We've been faking a northern assault so well that the Germans have undoubtedly reinforced the area by now."

The misdirection had its drawbacks. Meant to mislead the Germans, it now precluded any northern invasion.

Charles advised General Winter in a low, persuasive tone. "The only option now is to call off the attack. We've given the enemy a month to prepare and, worse, helped them train soldiers in real-time defense drills. The only way we could win now is if the Ottoman Empire surrendered voluntarily."

Winter frowned, sighing heavily. "You're likely correct, Colonel. But I can't persuade them to stop. The First Lord of the Admiralty believes our lack of success was due to Carden's cautiousness. With Admiral de Robeck at the helm…"

Charles interrupted, "The Dardanelles now hold more German mines than ever before—newer, deadlier mines—and de Robeck may not even know it. Besides, he lacks combat experience."

General Winter's face grew ashen, and he eventually nodded. "I'll give it a try. If the First Lord orders this attack, it could end in catastrophe!"

With that, General Winter hurried off. Normally, he would have taken the train back to his station in Ypres, but this time, he raced straight to the airfield, hoping to reach Britain swiftly to speak with the Admiralty in person.

Charles knew, however, that Winter would not sway the First Lord. The First Lord had once declared, "If we fail to conquer the Dardanelles, I'll take up arms myself as a common soldier!" He would not admit defeat, even knowing the likelihood of failure.

Sure enough, the day after Winter's departure, the Allied fleet launched an all-out assault on the Dardanelles.

When news reached the Defense Command, the staff erupted in cheers, speculating excitedly:

"Time to show them who's boss!"

"Eighteen battleships—about time we flattened the Ottomans."

"I'm betting they break through by today!"

…

Eighteen battleships, including the British Royal Navy's latest dreadnought, the HMS Queen Elizabeth. But the fleet's performance soon dashed any premature celebrations: the battleships missed targets while in motion, missed in bad weather, and missed again from longer distances.

Only in calm weather, at close range, could they hope to land a hit.

The dismal performance left many feeling crushed and frustrated.

Yet, they still hoped that the grand showdown would restore their morale. This time, the sweepers would operate openly, in tandem with the fleet, rather than sneaking in under cover of night.

Without firsthand accounts, the intelligence dispatches painted a vivid picture of the conflict:

Explosions lit the Dardanelles as the fleet's battleships hammered the Ottoman fortifications and artillery.

Armored battleships maneuvered across the water, deflecting enemy fire and delivering counter-barrages, unleashing an orchestra of thunderous cannon fire. Amid the thick smoke and shrapnel, the coastal forts vanished beneath towering fireballs.

Meanwhile, the Ottoman guns roared in response from the hills lining both shores. Mobile artillery, previously deployed only under cover of darkness, now had no choice but to face the fleet's guns in daylight.

The destroyers and minesweepers led the charge, forging a path through the minefields to clear the way for the battleships.

At that moment, a telegram arrived with encouraging news: "We've struck the enemy's ammunition depot!"

The command center erupted in cheers, and for the first time, it felt as if victory was within reach.

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