Chapter 390: A Second Rinse

"Fifteen days is simply not enough!" Von Trotha couldn't help raising his voice, "The main drive shaft of the 'Friedrich the Great' is still being calibrated, the front Main Gun turret of the 'Seddelitz' has just been installed and needs at least two weeks of testing. The boiler compartment leak on the 'King' hasn't been fully resolved…"

"I know." Tirpitz interrupted him, walked to the desk and sat down, "I know all of that. But Berlin doesn't know, or they don't want to know."

He opened a drawer and took out a thick file folder. It contained detailed reports on each ship's damage assessments and repair progress, totaling over three hundred pages. Every page was cold technical data, every line a proof of the time required.

"Compile these data into a summary report." Tirpitz pushed the folder to Von Trotha, "Highlight the key points: which ships can be combat‑ready before July 10, which cannot; if we force an sortie, what risks each ship still carries; and, should we encounter the Yingguo main fleet, what are our odds of victory."

Von Trotha took the folder, his fingers tightening, the paper edges warping slightly: "Marshal, if we report truthfully… the Emperor will think we're making excuses."

"Then let him think so." Tirpitz stood up, walked to the North Sea chart on the wall, "Von Trotha, I ask you: if you were a doctor and a patient was gravely ill and needed convalescence, but the patient insisted on getting up immediately to run, would you tell him the truth or go along with his wish?"

"That's different…"

"It's exactly the same." Tirpitz turned, his gaze sharp, "My duty is not to please the Emperor, but to protect the German Navy, to protect the lives of these tens of thousands of sailors. If I am dismissed for speaking the truth, so be it. But before I'm dismissed, I must speak the truth."

Von Trotha fell silent. He lowered his head, looking at the folder in his hands, the dense data seeming to mock him—mocking everyone who tried to bend physical law with political will.

"Then how shall we reply to the Imperial Household Office?" he finally asked.

"Reply truthfully." Tirpitz walked back to the desk, picked up a fountain pen and a sheet of paper, "I'll draft the telegram. You prepare the technical data—detailed and persuasive. Also…"

He paused, his gaze deepening: "Notify all ship captains; meeting at two p. m. this afternoon. I will personally assess each ship's condition. If necessary, I will have them co‑sign a risk‑assessment report. Berlin may distrust me alone, but it cannot distrust the senior commanders of the entire fleet."

"Yes." Von Trotha stood at attention, saluted, and turned to leave.

The office fell quiet again. Tirpitz sat down and began drafting the telegram that was destined not to satisfy Berlin. The pen tip rustled on the paper, each character written slowly, heavily:

"To the Imperial Household Office, Your Majesty: We have received the order for fleet deployment. After urgent consultations with all ship captains and shipyard engineers, the current factual situation is as follows…"

He listed each capital ship's condition truthfully: the 'Friedrich the Great' had drive‑system problems; the 'Seddelitz' required time for turret testing; the 'King' had boiler hazards; the 'Grand Elector' had its fire‑control system calibration unfinished… He wrote over three pages in a flowing hand.

At the conclusion, he wrote:

"Based on the foregoing realities, the probability that the High Seas Fleet can be fully combat‑ready before July 10 is below thirty percent. If we force an sortie, not only will tactical objectives be hard to achieve, but significant losses may result from ship failures or insufficient performance. I recommend postponing the sortie to July 25, when most vessels will have completed necessary repairs and testing. Your loyal servant, Alfred von Tirpitz."

After finishing, he read it over carefully, then signed his name. The pen tip scratched the paper, emitting a faint tearing sound, as if the telegram itself were tearing something apart.

At 1:50 p. m., the conference room was already full.

Twelve capital‑ship captains, three battleship‑cruiser captains, the cruiser squadron commander, the destroyer force commander… almost all senior commanders of the Deguo High Seas Fleet were present. Smoke curled in the room, officers murmured in low voices, the atmosphere heavy.

When Tirpitz pushed the door open, everyone rose instantly. He walked to the head of the long table and signaled for them to sit.

"Gentlemen, time is short; let's get straight to the point." he said bluntly, "Berlin demands we be ready to sortie before July 10. Now, each of you report the actual condition of your ship. I want the truth, no diplomatic spin, no optimistic estimates."

He looked at the captain of the 'Friedrich the Great' seated at the left‑hand head, Von Trotha—who shares a surname with the Chief of Staff but is not related.

"Captain Von Trotha, you first."

Captain Von Trotha rose, the fifty‑year‑old veteran navy officer's face grim: "Your Marshal, the left‑side breach on the 'Friedrich the Great' has been repaired, but yesterday's sea trial revealed a slight vibration of the main drive shaft at high speed. The engineering department judges that impact during the German‑Dutch sea battle may have caused a minor deformation of the bearing housing. To resolve it fully, we need to enter dry dock for disassembly and inspection, which will take at least a week."

"What if we sortie with this problem?" Tirpitz asked.

"The risk is great," the captain replied bluntly, "During combat maneuvers, if the vibration intensifies, the drive shaft could break. The entire ship would lose power and become a live target on the battlefield."

Tirpitz nodded, gesturing for him to sit. Then he turned to the captain of the 'Seddelitz'.

"We're worse off," the Seddelitz captain said without standing, his voice hoarse, "The newly installed front Main Gun turret can rotate, but its hydraulic system leaks, about two liters per minute. Engineers say a full repair requires dismantling the entire rotating mechanism, which will take at least ten days. Moreover…"

He paused: "And the Shell hoist hasn't been fully calibrated. The German‑Dutch lessons teach us that ammunition‑store safety cannot be taken lightly. If we force its use, a mis‑fired shell or operational error could…"

He did not finish, but everyone understood the consequence—a warship would sink from a magazine explosion.

Next came the 'King', the 'Grand Elector', the 'Prince William'… each report was similar: problems minor yet fatal, repairs requiring time, forced sortie risk extremely high.

When the final captain finished his report, the conference room fell into dead silence. The clock on the wall ticked, each second feeling like a countdown to something.

Tirpitz surveyed the room: "So, based on these realities, if we must sortie on July 10, what do you think our chances of victory are?"

No one answered.

"I want the truth," Tirpitz repeated.