A Battle History of the Modern Byzantine Navy

[director]

This AAR was originally posted over on the Paradox website; real-life complications like work kept me from posting it here. This game is completed (as is the AAR). It uses my Byzantium custom nation, which can be found here:
nws-online.proboards.com/thread/658/post-custom-nations?page=1


So with no further ado, let's get going.

The nation I’m going to play is, as you can see from the title, Byzantium, or the eastern part of the ancient Roman Empire. As to how it came to survive to the present day, I will point to no single pivotal point of difference, only an accumulation of events that went more in favor of the Empire than against it. After all, the Byzantines had shown incredible survival skills – give them a few lucky throws of the dice at the right time and who knows? But here are a few significant places where this timeline wandered off in a direction different from our own:

1) Justinian’s re-conquest of the West halted after the recovery of Africa and Sicily; there was no extended campaign in Italy but instead a thorough smack-down of the Persians in the East

2) The Plague of Justinian was milder and struck hardest to the south and east, in the Levant and Sassanid Persia, but Justinian died of it

3) Khusrau’s war, which wrecked both the Sassanid Persian and Byzantine Empires in our timeline, came to grief for Persia early here and the war was not prolonged as in our history. In its aftermath the Muslims attacked into a weakened Persia before invading the Levant and Egypt

4) The Bulgars were destroyed as a military rival in the Byzantine resurgence of the 10th Century, becoming an off-and-on client-state and buffer zone

5) Both the Turks and the Mongols went more south than south-west, finding India and a weaker Persia easier to invade than a vigilant and wary Empire



Of course there are still battles lost and won, catastrophic defeats and successes, and then the ‘final’ perils of the Turks and Mongols (and internal religious dissent) to overcome, but this Empire survives largely intact in its Anatolian, Balkan and (hotly contested) Syrian heartlands until the 19th century. A stronger Empire is not invaded by the Crusaders (the Crusades go to Syria, though Sicily and Africa are lost to Normans and Spaniards). Constantinople never falls. The Empire re-occupies Mameluke Egypt in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, becoming (as The Ottomans did) an Eastern ally of Britain and later Germany. Industrialization and modernization follow in the 1840s, a Meiji-like restoration and re-invigoration of a moribund Empire that bring it into the 20th century as a viable modern state. The ‘troubles’ of 1848 shake up the calcified bureaucracy and impel reforms, and along with the petty Russian Wars of the decades of the 1820s, 30s and 40s provide the means for Emperor Leo VII to reassert Imperial power over the state and begin its return to Great Power status.

I don’t ask that you agree with my points of divergence; feel free to put forward your own if you like or even deny it could have happened. But for the purposes of the story we must take it as given that the Byzantine Empire survives to 1900, controls Greece and the Greek islands, Anatolia, Crete, Cyprus, the Levant and Egypt, and is rapidly industrializing in line with other nations of the era. This is no ‘sick man of Europe’ but neither is it yet a global power on the order of Britain, France or Germany. Thinking of it as an Eastern European version of Japan, might perhaps be a decent place to start.

Historically the Byzantine Navy, like its Western Roman counterpart, was an extremely professional and competent force, so successful that for much of its existence it leaves little trace in the historical record. It is clear that Byzantium understood sea-power and used it for both military and commercial purposes, and that the Byzantine Navy was a chief prop of Imperial military campaigns and power-projection. In this alternate history, Emperor Leo VII sees the rebuilding of the Navy with modern ships as a means of jump-starting industrialization and educational reforms in the Empire. His successor, Isaac V, sees the value of using the Empire’s rising naval power to help legitimize his new Angelosid dynasty, as well as its usefulness for adding new territories to the Empire. Like Bismarck, he will wage war to enlarge his nation and to weld its people together, but unlike the German Chancellor he will do so on the waves and not on land.

The former eastern half of the Roman Empire does not call itself Byzantium in 1900, but most other people in this timeline do. Its insistence on being the proper government of the people and senate of Rome is a running joke even in Imperial circles, so it does not refer to itself as Rome except in a very formal sense. The preferred casual term is, “The Empire”, or “The Eastern Empire” and that convention is mostly adhered to in this work. The capitol city is Constantinople, one of the largest cities in the world in 1900, long-since overflowing its old walls and spreading across the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn. Other major cities are Athens and Thessalonika in Greece, Smyrna and Antioch in Asia Minor and Alexandria in Egypt.



The game is ‘Rule the Waves’ by NWS; their website is here: nws-online.proboards.com/

‘Rule the Waves’ is a three-part game of naval strategy and tactics in the time of the great naval races, 1900-1925. The first part allows the player to design and equip his own ships, and to set priorities for naval research, espionage and training; the second, once war comes, generates missions that pit the player’s ships against those of an enemy nation (or nations); the third permits the player to command his ships in battle at varying levels of control. It’s not graphically pretty but the game is factually solid and it has that ‘just one more turn’ kind of compelling game-play that will keep you hooked. Look it up on the internet for reviews and on Youtube for ‘Let’s Play’ videos, and/or visit the NWS website.

‘Rule the Waves’ is highly recommended; I think it is an incisive and fun look at naval technology and the building races of the day. My take is that anyone with even a passing interest in modern steam-and-steel navies will find this a worthwhile purchase. It is unexpectedly fast-paced, has some interesting random events, and very high replay value, too: one of the features is that you can design ‘custom nations’ like Scandinavia, Turkey, Byzantium, China and many others, and then play out the naval race as that country.

Anyway, I found the idea of a modern (20th century) Byzantine coal-and-steel navy just impossible to resist, and that’s why I set up Byzantium as a custom nation. I’m a self-confessed naval buff who finds the whys-and-wherefores of ship design, grand strategy and battle tactics to be deeply interesting, so there’s going to be a lot of discussion of those matters in this AAR. I hope you will find the following account interesting, too.



This AAR will be mostly text with some pics to help illustrate what’s going on. Please feel free to comment, ask questions and let me know what you like and don’t.

[director]

Setup: This is the start screen for Rule the Waves. I have already selected Byzantium from the drop-down list. Our ‘leader’ is the Strategos – the General in charge of the Imperial General Staff – but in practice I will be making all decisions for the Navy as I’m the Emperor’s favorite guy (;0). Our government is an autocracy, our ships are built in the Mediterranean, our ‘historical’ budget is 16,000,000 (pounds? dollars? solidi? something spendable, anyway). Our leaders tend to be Cautious (you bet I am). Our dock size of 12,000 tons limits us to building ships of that size or smaller and our shipbuilding industry is undeveloped so everything coats more and takes longer (sigh). The list of guns shows which calibers we can manufacture; there are a few others off the bottom of the list but basically we are a long way behind the European powers. We will be buying the ships we need from overseas shipbuilders, at least in the beginning.

The list of our potential opponents is at the bottom, in no particular order: Austria, Italy, Russia, Spain, France and Britain. That means we cannot war with the US, Japan or Germany. Events (and our choices) will cause our relations with these six to get better or, more often, worse. If tensions grow high enough, then war breaks out and we get to use our Navy to fight the dreaded enemy. Once peace come, relations return (mostly) to normal and the cycle starts over. The Black Sea is off limits to everyone in Rule the Waves, so we won’t have to worry about that.

The second screen shows that we have opted to have a Very Large fleet size using Historical Resources (we get less money relative to Great Britain at the start). I’ve checked the Manual Build box, which means I will design all of the ships I have at the start in 1900 rather than let the game do it automatically. In general my designs will be bigger, badder and faster (and more expensive) than the AI would give me: a few ships of high quality rather than larger numbers of less capable ones. I’m making that choice because Byzantium is at the eastern end of the Mediterranean ‘sack’; she can deploy all her strength in one place, so quality will – I think – matter more than quantity.

Major shipbuilding centers include the Golden Horn (the waterway north of Constantinople), Rhegium on the Propontis (Sea of Marmara), Chalcedon (across the Bosphorus), Thessalonika and Salamis (Greece), Smyrna (Anatolia) and Alexandria (Egypt). The Imperial naval ensign follows the Tetragrammaton-cross design of the Palaiologos dynasty with an ancient square anchor in the center, gold on purple; the naval ensign is always the flag shown here. Because Asia Minor is our home territory, all of our new-built ships appear in the Mediterranean. Owning the Suez Canal gives us easy access to the Indian Ocean and the East.

So the pieces are in place and our ships are swinging around their anchors as war clouds gather. It is January 1, 1900, in Constantinople… the City… the City… ancient seat of an Empire whose history stretches back more than two thousand years. This Empire is rejuvenated and ready – more or less – to join in the hunt for Great Power status by carving out a colonial empire.

Maps:

Europe in 1900

The Far East in 1900

North America in 1900

Dramatis personae:

• Emperor Leo VII: “The Great Reformer”, r. 1832-1888
• Emperor Isaac V: “The Admiral” or “The International”, r. 1888-1933
• Horace Wetherby: editor for MacLaughlin & Sons Publishers, of London
• The Author: himself
• Admiral Ion Velikos Theodoros: Navarch (civilian Minister of the Navy) and Admiral Commanding the Imperial Navy, promoted to flag rank in 1899, then Navarch and Admiral in 1900 at age 35

Nomenclature:

Most Imperial names are Greek, Semitic or Slavic, with a fair mix of Egyptian, Persian and Arabic thrown in – there have been a lot of conquests and re-conquests in the region in a thousand years.

Imperial titles have of course changed and sometimes even if the name remains the same the function differs. Names have been heavily influenced by the Empire’s Greco-Balkan roots but Imperial names and spellings do not always conform to those of our timeline. There are a lot of cross-overs between Imperial Hellenic and the neighboring Slavic, Persian, Arabic and Egyptian languages.

Below is a brief description of ship-types for readers who may not be well-versed in nautical arcana.

Battleship, or pre-dreadnought: a ship with (typically) four guns in the main battery and a large number of smaller guns; the backbone of the battle-fleet before the dreadnought revolution. Typically 13-15,000 tons.

Semi-dreadnought: a ship with four guns in the main battery and a secondary battery of nearly equal caliber carried in turrets along the sides. Example: 2x2-12” turrets and 6x2-10” turrets. Typically 15-20,000 tons.

Dreadnought: an all-big-gun ship, mounting more than 4 big guns of the same caliber in the main armament. HMS Dreadnought carried 5x2-12” guns. Often but not always powered by turbine engines. 20,000 tons plus; superdreadnoughts can range up to 50,000 tons.

Fast battleship: a dreadnought carrying heavy guns, armor and able to steam at high speed; a fusion between a traditional dreadnought (21 knots) and a battlecruiser (28 knots). Usually this is achieved through a significantly larger displacement.

Battlecruiser: an all-big-gun armored cruiser, later a faster dreadnought with more speed but either fewer guns or less armor than a dreadnought. Typically 20,000 tons plus (and sometimes plus a lot); SMS Lutzow massed 30,000 tons and HMS Hood almost 47,000.

Armored cruiser: initially as big as a battleship, mounting 6” to 10” guns and steaming at 21-24 knots. Armor limited to less than 6”. Displacement is typically 8,000-15,000 tons. Armored cruiser construction mostly stopped when battlecruisers came along.

Light cruiser: also called scouts. Armed with 4”, 5” or 6” guns, able to steam at 24-30 knots and protected by a domed armored deck with little armor elsewhere. Used as destroyer leaders, raiders, fleet scouts. Typically 3500-6000 tons.

Destroyer: intended first to protect the fleet from torpedo boats and then to replace torpedo boats, they are large enough to be ocean-going and often turbine-powered. Armed with a small number of light-caliber guns and torpedo launchers; able to steam at speeds up to 30 knots and displacement can range from 500-1500 tons.

Dromon, meaning ‘Runner’, was a common type of oar-propelled galley used by Byzantium; it is always used here as an Imperial term for a torpedo boat or destroyer.

Minesweeper: a small craft used for clearing minefields; also used for anti-submarine warfare; can weigh in at 200-500 tons.

Armed merchant cruiser: a merchant ship fitted with surplus medium-caliber guns, sometimes equipped to disguise itself with paint, false funnels and deck structures. Able to cruise long distances and intended for commerce-raiding.

Submarine: a submersible torpedo boat. In ‘Rule the Waves’, subs come in three types: coastal, medium and mine-laying. These may attack enemy merchant ships and warships.

[director]

Chapter headings:
The author and his book
A Battle History of the Modern Byzantine Navy: 1900-1932
The Untried Sword: the Navy Remakes Itself for the Modern Age
1904: War with Spain
1906: The Second Spanish War
The years of peace: 1907 to 1912
1912: The First Italian War
The Years of Peace: 1914 to 1918 or The Empire During the Great War
1918: The First Austrian War
The Years of Peace: 1920 – 1923
1923: The Second Italian War
The Years of Peace: 1925 - 1929
1929: The Second Austrian War
The Navarch Retires



The author and his book:

“You cannot call them ‘Byzantium’, you know; it is not merely inaccurate but, I am told, they find it insulting.” The speaker was a tall, spare man of later than middle age: my hoped-for editor, and my advisor as I searched for a way to turn up some income in my retirement years. His long fingers stroked a pile of papers on his desktop, a subtle hint, but I was not taken in. The year was 1938 and old King William V was still propped upon his throne; the month was January, and it was as cold and dismal a day as London had seen in many a year. The hour was well advanced toward dusk, the fire merry and a glass of the excellent Laphroaig had been poured for each of us. Despite the lateness of the hour my host would not be eager to conclude our business just yet, not if it meant venturing out into the slush and sleet. Neither, of course, was I willing to brave the storm; doubly reluctant to do so without some promise that my efforts would be published – and that I should be paid.

“Horace, I must name them something.” I let that hang for a moment and sipped meditatively at my whiskey. “Calling them the Roman Empire is… would be misunderstood, at the least, and likely would insult the Italian government. ‘Constantinopolitan’ is simply unmanageable and the title of Eastern Empire was claimed by Austria for centuries. These people may be able to trace their history down from Rome but their half of the Empire went Greek more than a thousand years ago. So ‘Byzantine’ I think it must be; the public will know the meaning of the term instantly, and that is the mark at which I must aim.”

Horace Wetherby nodded slowly. “As an American, you may not know that there is a great appetite these days among the English public for things of an Oriental character. What an impression the eastern nations made in the great exhibitions! The Japon and Chinee are a touch too distant to long engage the public mind, alas. But these… the Byzantines, as you say. They are nearer to hand, and can claim a common Roman heritage with Britons. And as you say, their splendid little navy was brought along by British teachers and some of their ships were built in British yards. The average Briton may not know a Byzantium from a chrysanthemum, but he admires pluck, and cheers for the little fellow.”

I nodded. “They are a colonial power like Britain as well – the latest and likely the last colonial empire of modern times. Co-operated with British interests in China during the Great War, too; the reading public may find that of interest.”

“So I propose to tell their story as a series of battles. Exciting enough to keep the casual reader engaged, yet I hope to provide something for a more serious mind as well. Not Brassey’s or Jane’s, of course, but with more substance than Claudesleys’s “Boys’ Big Book of Battleships.”

For Wetherby, his had been a speech of remarkable length; this editor knew well the value of words and by long habit expended as few as possible in the normal course of his day. He nodded once, sharply. “A history told as a story; well, there’s Caesar himself as precedent for that. You should rough up a few chapters and get at least one in presentable form. The idea has merit; we shall see if it has value.”

I shifted awkwardly in my seat and lifted up the leather folio case. “As to that, sir, I have three chapters here; done, or so I think.”

Wetherby nodded once again. “Capital! Leave them with me, and inquire again on Monday.”

As I rose to go he motioned me to sit down again. “Don’t be in such a hurry to depart, sir. It is a beastly night, and you have not more than touched your whiskey. Sit; do. We shall go round to the Press Club later. But for now, drink! And tell me your story.”

[axe99]

Great work Director, definitely well worth posting over here as well .

[Airy W]

Why the heck dont we just call it the Greek Empire? It is an empire that is full of Greeks. Like the Chinese or the Russian or the Persian empires it can be named after it's dominant culture.

[director]

Well, johnw, that's complicated. The Byzantines don't much care to be called Greek since Rome conquered the Greeks and the Byzantines still rule half of the old Roman Empire from Constantinople, The Greatest City on Earth. Greece is a fairly poor, somewhat rural outerland and the Imperials look down on it as New Yorkers look down on rural New Jersey. The Imperial citizens speak a dialect of Latin larded with Greek, Turkic, Slavic and Egyptian and very few of them speak Greek as a first language. The Imperial Government still considers itself to be the proper government of Rome, SPQR and all that, though even they have a hard time saying that with a straight face. Rather as the Kings and Queens of England claimed to be monarchs of France for a long time after the last of their continental possessions were gone, or Taiwan claimed to be the real government of China for decades after the Communists took over, the Empire knows it is never going to re-conquer the old Western Roman Empire but for domestic political reasons cannot just abandon the claim. So they decorate everything with SPQR and try not to roll their eyes (at least not in public).

Rather than try to sort all of that out I thought I'd just call them Byzantines, or Imperials, or the Empire, and let it go at that. I don't think there will be much confusion as to who I'm talking about. It's going to be a wild ride, and I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to comment about anything, good or bad, like or don't.


Hi Axe! Since I have all of this in the can, the plan is to release a post every day. Do you think one every two or three days would be better? I'm getting over my Distant Worlds obsession, so then MAYBE I'll move on to my British AAR.

[director]

A Battle History of the Modern Byzantine Navy: 1900-1932

A brief foreword may be of some assistance to the reader, who may be of need of some grounding before we plunge into the record of the turbulent first three decades of what Groschek called the ‘New Imperial Steel Navy’. This is not a scholarly work as such, though every effort has been made to ensure the material presented here is as factual and complete as possible. Instead it is the author’s wish to cover the recent naval wars involving the resurgent Empire of the East - popularly called the Byzantine Empire – in a manner suited to a reader whose interest in naval affairs may be keen but who is perhaps not a professional naval man or historian. It will be largely a chronicle of battles, with some information as to how and why they came about, what happened, and how the outcomes affected the other Great Powers.

The Western half of the Roman Empire was overrun by waves of invading barbarians, but the Eastern half – wealthy, and anchored by its great fortress capital of Constantinople – survived. From the Middle or Dark Ages, the Byzantines recoiled and rebounded from their own series of invasions, surviving due to their powerful and effective army and because of their sophisticated systems of diplomacy, taxation and government. Vast areas were lost: Northern Africa, including Egypt, Sicily and much of the Balkans. Western European states such as Britain, France, Austria and Prussia surged ahead in the arts and sciences while Byzantium remained calcified, victim of internal resistance to change that inhibited all attempts at modernization.

By the time of the Napoleonic Wars it seemed that this last remnant of the ancient Roman Empire must finally collapse, pressed as it was by an expansionist Russia and a sullen, hostile Caliphate whose Sultan in Baghdad still dreamed of conquest in Asia Minor and the Levant. In 1800 the French descent on Egypt and the abortive campaign in Syria which followed, revealed the weakness of the nominally-Muslim Mameluke state and opened the way for its re-conquest by Emperor Basil VI.

In 1840, the “Great Reformer” Emperor Leo VII realized he could only successfully continue to resist Russian and Arabian pressures by rebuilding the Imperial state on a modern, industrial and western model. The Byzantines had always had a relatively efficient and sophisticated system of taxation and management, and – calcified and corrupt as it had become – the state could still muster vast sums of money. If an Emperor was sufficiently determined and ruthless, as Leo VII was, the Empire could afford to pay for a great deal of Western assistance in modernizing its educational, industrial, governmental and financial systems. Recurrent low-level border skirmishes with Russia in the 1840s hardened Leo’s resolve and the great revolutionary year of 1848 convinced him that governmental and political reforms were urgently and immediately required. British assistance made transportation and industry flourish, British and French models were used for new public schools and the great old universities of Adrianople, Constantinople and Antioch were thoroughly modernized. Leo balked at the public demand for a written constitution, but permitted - at first, in a purely advisory capacity – an Assembly and Senate to be elected and to meet. The Revolt of the Strategoi in 1852 was broken by the first of the new Imperial infantry regiments armed and trained to German standards and the castles of the rebels were cast down by new Austrian steel rifled artillery.

And just in time, for in 1854 the Russians invaded Romania and Bulgaria and besieged the ancient Byzantine fortress city of Adrianople. After a desperate thirty days the Byzantine Army relieved the garrison by soundly defeating the Tsar’s forces. With diplomatic pressure from France and Britain, this forced Russia to abandon her conquests in the Balkans and perhaps saved Constantinople as well.

With his security assured against foreign and domestic foes, the Emperor was at liberty to refashion the institutions of the state after what were thought to be the best practices of the West. Of course modernization was resisted and generations would be required before the new institutions would deliver on their early promise, but from 1854 it was certain that Byzantium would continue to advance toward the future and not retreat from it.

In 1856, the French engineer Ferdinand de Lesseps proposed the construction of a canal across the Isthmus of Suez and by 1869 the vast engineering project had been carried to completion. The financial and governing matters of the canal were complex, but under the Convention of Constantinople the Imperial government agreed to retain de Lesseps’ firm as a managing partner for a share in fees and to guarantee equal passage to all vessels with the sole exception of declared enemies of the state in wartime. This venture proved immensely profitable to all concerned and gave the Empire control of the shortest trade route to the Far East, a strategic and financial asset around which the national strategy of the state would soon revolve.

The Canal utterly transformed the position of the Byzantine Empire from a quaint backwater in the dead-end of the eastern Mediterranean into a nexus of commerce, finance and industry. The canal – and its revenue - became an object of envy for every nation in Europe and the Middle East, many of whom were modern and powerful states and none of whom could be expected to scruple if presented with a chance to snatch it away. The Byzantine Navy was at that time an outmoded collection of sailing ships that was, in the words of one British admiral, “incapable of defending a bum-boat”. With characteristic force, Leo VII determined that the once-great Imperial Navy must be resurrected, and with great insight saw how the material and technical demands of a modern navy could help foster the Empire’s industrial, commercial and scientific growth. By 1865, five steam-powered cruisers had been ordered from British and French yards, naval schools established in Rhegium and Chalcedon, and the shipbuilding yards along the Golden Horn were both modernizing and bustling with activity. It would not be enough, but it was the beginning of a naval renaissance.

Given the modest means at their disposal, the new Imperial naval commanders determined to follow a commerce-raiding strategy, emulating the successes of Confederate cruisers in the American Civil War. Later they found merit in the theories of the French Jeune Ecole, focusing on the aggressive use of light warships to defend the Imperial coasts and ports while heavily fortifying the entrances to the Canal. Small in size and number, the Navy’s forces were used to good effect against Russia in the Black Sea wars of the 1880s and its performance was a key reason for the Tsar’s agreement to the Black Sea Demilitarization Treaty of 1889. But it was also recognized that while light forces were useful and necessary, in the wider waters of the Mediterranean they could not be sufficient. Cruisers would be required and capital ships also, but until it could develop its own native warship industries the Empire must look overseas for the design and construction of its first big ships. By 1900 the Navy could field six battleships (two of French and four of British design), four modern steel scout cruisers and sixteen 500-ton destroyers, called dromons (‘Runners’) after the standard warships of the ancient Byzantine navy. Soon to join the fleet were two very large armored cruisers, then among the best and most heavily-armed of their type in the world, Hellas and Boukellarion.

The plan for the first of the Navy’s new battleships

Dominus cruising in the Aegean Sea, 1905

The Imperial Navy’s first two battleships (Dominus and Strategos) were built in French yards (Penhoet et cie) to Imperial specifications by French designers. They showed the characteristic high sides and pronounced tumble-home of contemporary French design while following British practice in the layout of the armament. They were equipped with two twin turrets carrying 11” guns (2x2-11”) and a battery of 14-7” guns set in casemates in the hull and superstructure.

The plan for the four British-built battleships

A photo of Constantinople from 1904

The follow-on class of four battleships was an expanded version of the British Collingwood or Admiral class. Known in Imperial service as the Basileus class, they carried 2x2-12” for a main battery and 14-7” casemated guns in the secondary battery. All of these ships displaced 16,000 tons – larger than the battleships of other nations – and were capable of 19 knots. They would have active and lengthy service lives and constituted the backbone of Imperial naval power in its formative decades. Imperial officers always preferred the British-built Basileus class to the high-sided French design, and as the Army was rebuilt on German practice, so it was the Royal Navy that would become the Imperial Navy’s model.

The plan for the scout or light cruisers

The scout, or light, cruisers were likewise of the largest and most modern type and were built in Byzantine yards (the first, Basilisk, was assembled on the Golden Horn entirely from components purchased from Armstrong); all had major systems fabricated in Britain. Capable of an extremely-fast 23 knots, they carried 6x6” guns and 8x4” guns, all in shielded single mounts, a very heavy gun armament for the time. The Byzantine Dromon-1 (D-1) class of torpedo boats was designed with the experience of the Black Sea wars in mind; on a modest 500-tons displacement they carried 4x3” guns and 3 torpedo tubes on swivels, and being somewhat overloaded for their small size were capable of only a modest 27 knots.

The plan for the Navy’s first two armored cruisers

In mid-1900, the two armored cruisers of the Hellas-class entered fleet service. They were among the first large warships to be built in Imperial yards (though the original design was by Armstrong), and as such they had extended construction times. They were large, fast and powerful ships, displacing 13,500 tons, making 23 knots on trials and carrying 2x2-10” in turrets and 14-7” guns in casemates. This was firepower on almost a battleship-scale to be sure, but the big cruisers were protected by only 5” of armor at the belt and the same on the turrets.

In all of these ships we see common elements that underpinned Imperial warship design for decades: large size, heavy gun-power and high speed where that was possible, an emphasis on individual quality to offset the numbers of foreign ships the Imperial Navy could not afford to match one-for-one. With these ships completing or ready for service, and without the threat of Russian activity on a demilitarized Black Sea, the Navy could hope to acquit itself well against any but the greatest of naval powers. And as we shall see, the Navy would need to be ready, for its first test would soon be upon it.

[HolyDragoon]

Never managed to find your thread at the Paradox forums. You sig kept teasing me.


As someone who mainly plays Byzantium, I believe I'll have a lot of fun reading this thread. Carry on.

[director]

Hi HolyDragoon! I feel a little guilty posting this so long after it was written, but - I think it is new to most of the folks here.
I wrote it and put it on the Paradox forum because I wanted to reach an audience that might not know about RtW but who would enjoy it if they tried it. I know for a fact that several Paradoxians bought it, and I know that sales help determine whether or not we get a RtW2, so I'm trying to do my part.

Currently I'm thinking one post every two days (they are pretty long posts). You can let me know what you like, or don't.

I'm pleased that you like the Byzantium custom nation; I'm rather partial to it if I do say so myself.


The pics of the Dominus and Constantinople were photoshopped; all of the photos in this AAR will have been altered in some way.

[axe99]

I reckon every couple of days is probably a good pace. Great to hear Distant Worlds is doing it for you, but if you ever get a chance to do another RtW AAR, I'd deffo be interested in reading it .

[archelaos]

Great you post it here, director. AAR that, after suggestion from axe99, made me buy game (and forget HoI4...). Great writing!

[Airy W]

When I saw this AAR I downloaded the mod and am playing as Byzantium. I replicated your choice of having French built battleships. Although now I'm pondering if it might not have been better to save on the expense and build more armored cruisers instead.

[director]

Byzantium is consciously intended to play like Japan - it's relatively poor (better than Japan but it is closer to Europe) and has small docks and an undeveloped shipbuilding industry. But you can try to stay friendly with the 'big boys', catch up in shipbuilding capacity and make yourself a navy to be reckoned with.

Strategically, it is in a great position. You only have to concentrate on controlling the Mediterranean, but ownership of the Suez Canal gives you a path to the East. Building more CAs is a viable choice, I think - it worked for Japan - but I wanted to be competitive with Italy and Austria from the beginning. Plus, my play-style focuses more on having great light cruisers and DDs since CAs seem to get left out a lot by the mission generator. Perhaps that's just my luck.

[director]

The Untried Sword: the Navy Remakes Itself for the Modern Age

In March of 1900, with new ships sliding down the ways and classes of seamen and officers marching forth from the Naval Academies in Rhegium and Chalcedon, the Navy was reorganized. What had been two parallel services on the German model, one responsible for designing, building and equipping the ships and the other for fighting them, were merged under the civilian office of the Navarch. Other nations might have had a Ministry or Secretarial Department of the Navy in addition to a purely military Admiralty, but in the Empire of Isaac V the operational, logistical and technical military branches were fused into the civilian office, something unique to the Empire for that time. Though in theory the Navarchy remained subordinate to the Army (under the General Staff, or office of the Strategos), in fact the close personal attention of the Emperor gave it independence in all but law. The first officer appointed to oversee this new all-inclusive service, Admiral Ion Velikos Theodoros, would hold it for the next three decades - arguably the most active decades of any modern navy. Since the doctrine and precepts of this admiral shaped his service as much as any naval commander in history, it may be helpful for us to take a brief look at his biography.

Ion Velikos Theodoros was born in the great port of Thessalonika in or around the year of 1865 (birth records were not then exact and some were destroyed in the earthquake of 1888). He was the latest of a long line of fishermen and sailors and, the family said with more than a hint of braggadocio, pirates. His older brother being destined to inherit the family business, Theodoros entered the Imperial Naval service in 1877 as an ensign at the Rhegium Naval Academy, hoping to gain an engineering degree. Theodoros’ academic record was not outstanding but his leadership qualities – and his propensity for stunts and jokes – attracted early notice from his instructors. After graduation he rose quickly in the service through his natural talents and by virtue of the Navy’s rapid growth, for no matter how the schools were expanded the Navy remained desperately short of the officers and men it needed to man its new steel fleet.

Commanding a torpedo boat in the 1882 Black Sea War against Russia, Theodoros distinguished himself by energetic operations, was mentioned in dispatches three times for combat actions and ended the war two years later as a flotilla commander. Despite his success as a leader of light forces and notwithstanding the Navy’s interest in the theories of the Jeune Ecole, Theodoros became an enthusiastic and outspoken disciple of Alfred Thayer Mahan. His paper of 1888 entitled, “The Suez Canal: Fulcrum and Pivot of Sea Power” was widely circulated in the Navy and coincided with the Navy’s shift in concentration from light forces to a battle fleet. In 1891 he was appointed to command the naval base at Smyrna and helped supervise the construction of the Suez fortifications. He took command of the then-new battleship Strategos at St Nazaire in 1897; in 1899 he was promoted to Rear-Admiral and took command of the Navy’s first Battle Squadron. Come March of 1900, the new Emperor Isaac V named him to the just-created post of Navarch as head of the Navy in the entirety of its civilian and military forms. He was a very young man of 35 for such a lofty position, even in a Navy of young men, but Theodoros showed no hesitation and wasted no time in laying out the course his Navy should steer.

The Great Hall of the Old Palace as it appeared in 1918, after electrification

Author’s aside: There are no more than sketchy accounts of the actual ceremony, but with the aid of those and a brief interview granted by Admiral Theodoros after his retirement, we may perhaps pull back the curtain for a brief look at his official investiture.

The date is Thursday, March 15th of 1900; the time is 4:45 pm. The place is the Great Hall of the Old Palace on the southeastern tip of the Constantinople peninsula. Most of the Old Palace has been razed to make way for urgently needed new construction (the site of the old Hippodrome will soon be occupied by the massive new Armory, headquarters of the Army) or remodeled for new state functions. The Great Hall dates to the brief reign of Maurice II, last of the Varangians, and will be used for ceremonial functions even after the New Palace is completed in 1909. The entryway and the Hall itself are guarded by men in gaudy uniforms whose pistols are carefully concealed but fully functional. The grounds are packed with men and women in full court dress, either in traditional Byzantine bright golds, muted reds and purples, or in sober Western black evening wear, though even those are beribboned and sashed in a rainbow of heraldic colors.

The Chamberlain of the Imperial Household and his four-dozen minions are arranging the procession into the Hall in accordance with strict and arcane rules of precedence, taking exquisite care to keep certain members of various families well-separated. The Admiral, waiting by the doors, sees the small-statured Household functionaries obsequiously but determinedly chivvying matrons ‘of a certain age and size’ into position and is irresistibly reminded of tugboats straining at the hawsers of a battleship. There will be only one event in the Great Hall; the Emperor will announce, present and appoint the man chosen to head the Imperial Navy. Some members of the crowd will then be so favored as to be permitted to move from the Great Hall to the Banquet Chamber and sup from a European-style buffet. The rest of their evening will be devoted to the deadly serious task of being ‘merely’ social while drinking, dining and – if the Emperor’s wife permits – dancing.

The procession begins at last, the sound of kettledrums and muted horns subdued under a surf-rumble of shoe-heels on parquet and the rustle of hundreds of silk skirts. The honored guests advance in a column of fours, divide into two columns and parade one under the colonnade and the other along the tall windows to the far end of the hall. The small dais at the farthest end is protected by armed guards and purple velvet ropes. The way is lit by giant free-standing gas lamps arrayed on the outside of the colonnade and by small oil lamps in the vast crystal chandeliers; they ensure the faces of the guests are well-lit for the guards’ inspection. At last everyone has squeezed into place, the double doors boom shut against the damp Bosphorus air and the musicians on the balcony trill to a stop. The Hall is as silent as any group of people of that size can be.

This was intended to be an official but relatively informal gathering; had it been in honor of an ambassador from a rival state the recitation of Imperial rights and titles could have continued for a time precisely calculated to suit the annoyance the Emperor wished to inflict. Instead the Chamberlain makes his way down the long open center aisle, turns before the dais and intones, “His Imperial Majesty, Isaac Fifth of his name, Basileus, Sole Autokrator, Defender of the Faith, Pharoah in Egypt and of the East, Protector of the Dominions, Lord of the Sea and Defender of the Isles! All attend His Most August Majesty!”

The audience intones the required response, “God Save His Majesty!”

The musicians strike up a brief fanfare; the Emperor sweeps from the anteroom through the arch and mounts the dais, a tall man whose blond hair and clipped beard speak more of his Swedish mother than of his Greek surname. His own attire is Western but neither severe nor conventional: black evening wear over an unusual pearl-gray waistcoat brocaded in a paisley pattern, accented by a large blue sapphire lapel pin. But on his feet are the blood-red shoes of the ancient Empire, faultlessly executed in modern glossy patent leather but still an almost shocking anachronism.

Quiet applause fills the room along with some old-fashioned stamping of feet. The Chamberlain waits a careful moment and lifts his voice to proclaim, “Let all who have business before this August Court give notice and come forward!”

There is only one person, but the form must be followed. “Rear-Admiral Ion Velikos Theodoros, come forward.”

The functionaries have seen to it that his uniform is faultless and served him a small sherry but not even that could bring the blood back to his cheeks. It was, the Admiral later said, a long walk – the longest walk of his life. He has practiced the required slow and measured stride, taking care to keep his eyes carefully downcast, hoping desperately that the ceremonial black slippers do not pitch him headfirst in an undignified sprawl.

“This is my servant, in whom I am well pleased,” the Emperor says in the carefully modulated voice of one who is accustomed to public-speaking and well acquainted with the acoustics of the room. “Rear-Admiral you are no longer, but Admiral in full from this moment on, by my command.” A servant comes forward with the stars of office and efficiently replaces his current bar of two with four. “Navarch you shall be, from this moment and by my favor.” Another servitor loops the purple and gold sash over his shoulder and neck. “By my authority and in my name you shall command, and by these tokens my will be made known.” This is the tricky part; servants are tugging at his black slippers and it is awkward to stand on the cold marble in his sock feet. Two come forward with the Navarch’s ceremonial ring and seal, to be taken one in each hand; the last carries forward the cushion holding a pair of patent-leather shoes in a purple so dark they are nearly black. He accepts the ring and seal, bowing each time to the Imperial presence, and then one at a time raises his feet to accept the shoes. They fit perfectly.

“I charge you and challenge you to use these powers wisely, and to spare not in your exertions, and to faithfully and loyally execute my commands, to defend my Realm at all hazard and from all enemies, and to fail not in your duties, at your peril.”

Another, deeper bow, eyes fixed on the glittering, glistening red shoes before him, and then – unexpectedly – a Western handclasp.

It is done; the Emperor has his Navarch, the Navarch has his Navy, and the Navy, from this day, will be driven by a newfound urgent sense of purpose.


Immediate emphasis was put on thorough and realistic training, adding to formation-keeping and ship repair the practice of gunnery and maneuvering to make and avoid torpedo attacks. The fleet was kept regularly at sea, cruising from Egypt to Cyprus and Crete or from Constantinople around Greece and into the Adriatic, and the crews were drilled to a standard that even Britain’s Royal Navy found respectable. Reflecting its early roots in French-style Jeune Ecole doctrine, and possessed of a young and energetic officer corps unhampered by conservative seniors, the Navy aggressively pursued improvements in gunnery and fire control, torpedo development, the employment of light forces, and fleet signaling and tactics. Not all of these investigations bore fruit, certainly not at first, but the Navy had shown itself willing to consider new methods and intent on improving its practice with older ones. Navarch Theodoros had shown that he understood that merely having fine new ships was insufficient to the development of seapower. Precious funds must be spent on coal and munitions if the Navy was to wield its weapons with skill, and more money paid out to develop domestic sources for coal, explosives, steel, rivets, shells, armor and every piece of naval equipment from anchors to propellers. And he soon showed he grasped the further necessity of persuading the elected representatives to meet these vast new expenditures; rather than a Navy of Imperial fiat, Theodoros would head up a Navy supported by the people of the Empire. Some Assemblymen were natural allies, others could be cajoled, or educated to the benefits that would accrue to their own people, and more than a few had to be brought along by other means. Addressing the Assembly one day in 1903, the Navarch was asked why economies could not be made in the very large naval estimates for the upcoming year. “You would have a swordsman to protect you?” The Navarch smiled. “But you do not wish the swordsman to have a sword, or to practice with it, or to eat? Very well. If you would have economy, let the navy rust in port. And we shall see how long a time it is before someone takes our Canal from us… and then where is this ‘economy’?”

As a compromise candidate for the throne, Isaac V was continuously aware of the need to balance the conflicting interests of the powerful great families against those of the new financial, industrial and commercial elites. The Emperor nevertheless devoted himself to carrying forward the Leonine reforms and paid special attention to the task of settling his own men into positions of power and responsibility. His selection of the young Theodoros to head the Navy in 1900 was surprising but not especially controversial. The admiral was clearly one of the Navy’s most experienced and fastest-rising stars, and appointing a serving officer to what was essentially a civilian cabinet post could be excused by virtue of his technical expertise. What was surprising was that the new Emperor quickly developed an intense trust and confidence in his young Navarch, surprising - yet indisputably true. If the bond was tested early it also was cemented by the Admiral’s fierce loyalty to his benefactor in return. Theirs was to be the partnership that would forge the New Imperial Steel Navy, successful in no small part because Theodoros developed excellent administrative skills and because his Emperor gave him the power to exercise them almost without interference.

The first test of this loyalty occurred in July of 1900, four months after Theodoros took office as Navarch. A Spanish-American war over Cuba had lately been averted by the application of heavy diplomatic pressure from Great Britain, but the root cause – the ongoing rebellion in Spanish Cuba and the brutal methods used by the Spanish Army to put them down – remained untreated. At a diplomatic reception the Emperor Isaac V commented unfavorably on Britain’s prolongation of the Cuban situation to the British ambassador, and while it was a passing comment and intended to be private, the ambassador not only reported it to his government but let it be publicized. Protests from the Spanish and British governments followed, and when the Spanish cruiser Castilla cancelled a planned good-will visit the Admiral was asked by the Constantinople Times for a comment. It might have been best to issue a bland statement of regret or say nothing at all, but Theodoros instead contrasted the peace and security of Imperial Egypt with the situations in Cuba and India, and suggested that Spain and Britain both might profit from asking for the Emperor’s advice. It was immediately apparent to all that there would be no distance between the new head of the Navy and his Imperial patron: “Together we shall swim,” the Navarch said. “If we separate, the sharks must take us.”

Through the lead-up to its first major war the Navy made continuous if slow progress: docks and shipyard capabilities were steadily expanded, the armored cruisers Hellas and Boukellarion joined the fleet and embarked upon a goodwill tour of Mediterranean ports. A new and slightly larger 600-ton class of dromon (D-15) was laid down, as were the armored cruiser Chandax and four new scout cruisers of the Medusa class. Intended for commerce-raiding, the Medusas were soon regarded as compromised failures: their 21-knot top speed gave them decent range but was too slow to reliably evade an enemy, and armed with only short-ranged 4” guns they were too weak to fight if brought to battle. The Chandax design was an attempt to achieve a good fighting ship at a smaller size and cost than the Hellas class, but despite limiting the main armament to 8-7” guns (2 twin turrets fore and aft and four single turrets on the sides) it proved impossible to cut the weight below the 13,000-ton mark without compromising speed and protection. A class of escort vessels (Apostle) was also laid down; at only 200-tons they were easily constructed in small regional shipyards lately accustomed to building fishing trawlers and small freighters.

Boukellarion, ’The Old War-Horse’, off Alexandria in 1910.

Throughout the Empire’s history there had been Balkan crises; with so many small, unstable states and so many great powers willing to meddle, revolt, revolution, war and civil war were the norm. But in 1900 there was rather more ferment in the region than usual, and into these disputes the Empire was unavoidably if unwillingly drawn. Centuries before, Bulgaria, Romania and the rest of the Balkan states had been Imperial territories, rivals or client states. Now more-or-less independent they were the object of Great Power maneuvers, and if the Empire wished not to have a powerful Russia, Austria or Italy suddenly encamped upon her doorstep she must pay active attention to events. As a result of this, the relations between the Great Powers were tense, particularly now when insurrection and revolution wracked the region and made interference appear more profitable.

But the chief and persistent political issue for the Empire at this time became the unanticipated, unwelcome and ongoing war of words with Spain. Not realizing that Britain had acted solely to preserve her Caribbean trade and not from any feeling of solidarity with Spain, Madrid felt emboldened and responded to Byzantine slights with blistering condemnations. “It is untoward and unacceptable for a foreign power to criticize the internal affairs of another sovereign nation,” one diplomatic note ran. The Imperial government steadfastly declined to apologize, and whether in hopes of bringing pressure to bear or in search of an understanding with Italy, Spain began to offer arms and financial assistance to factions in Albania, Montenegro and Serbia. This development, needless to say, was not well received in Vienna, Moscow, Rome or Constantinople. This tension with Spain certainly concentrated the strategic thinking of the Navy, and it was clear that the Navy’s trend of thought now bent more toward Mahan than to the Jeune Ecole. “Should it be necessary,” one memorandum ran, “we can throw a powerful squadron into Balearic waters or to the Far East as it suits us. Spain cannot easily reinforce her eastern colonies while we hold the Canal.” This was no prescription for passive defense of the coasts but rather a full-throated declaration of intent to use Imperial naval strength to gain control of the seas, and to deny the use of its broad highway to the enemy.

The Navy began its first submarine construction in 1901 with a class of 8 boats intended for coastal defense, all based on American Holland designs and constructed in the United States. Dissatisfaction with its own heavy artillery designs led the Navy to purchase licenses for the excellent British Armstrong-Whitworth 12”/40 caliber gun. Though the cost was steep - reportedly more than four and a half million Imperial solidi – this excellent weapon would form the basis for subsequent Byzantine heavy artillery designs. The purchase also certainly helped to ease tensions with Britain.

By the end of 1902 there were serious concerns that a major war might erupt in and over the Balkans; there was a border incident between Romania and Bulgaria, a failed coup in Serbia and evidence of Austrian meddling in Bosnia-Herzegovina. This was dry tinder that needed only a spark, and once ablaze the Great Powers of Europe might find themselves compelled to choose sides. With an eye to improving its position in the region by taking up an ally, the Imperial diplomatic corps sponsored diplomatic talks with Austria. At that time still recovering from defeat in the Austro-Prussian War and equally concerned with Russian, Spanish and Italian adventurism in the Balkans, the Dual Monarchy was happy to agree. In December of 1902 a defensive pact was signed between the two Eastern Empires, and in the face of their united stance the other powers sharply restricted their activities in the region.

Also in 1902, driven in part by concerns over the possible on-set of a general war, the Navy celebrated its new industrial and design expertise by laying down its first entirely home-designed-and-built capital ship, and an impressive and influential design it was to be. On a displacement of 16,000-tons, no more than existing Imperial pre-dreadnought battleships, the Autokrator was to carry 4-12” guns in fore and aft twin turrets and in 4 twin wing turrets a further 8-10” guns. In spite of her low displacement and heavy armament, she was able to steam at 20 knots. The armor was modest, with only a 9” belt and a half-inch more on the turrets, but the ship’s promise of great speed and unparalleled gun-power drew the attention of every naval power.

Seni-dreadnought Autokrator

The Navarch had early-on said that rapid and accurate gunnery must be a first principle for his Navy. The expenditures on ammunition and on replacing gun barrels gave evidence of his financial dedication but the Autokrator was only the first physical manifestation of how the Navy meant to serve that ideal. Doctrinally, Navy officers were urged to study the methods of the Royal Navy’s Captain Percy Scott. Not just a gunner but a reformer and a teacher, Scott’s achievements were viewed with great suspicion at home (he was accused of cheating at gunnery trials and nearly dismissed from service) but gladly adopted by a young Byzantine officer corps eager to try anything that might give them an edge against more numerous enemies. For the enthusiastic but inexperienced officer corps it was often difficult to know not just what the right answers were but what were the right questions, and its uncritical acceptance of things that seemed promising but impractical would from time to time lead it astray. The Navy and its Navarch might and would make mistakes, but as shall be seen their devotion to gunnery would not be one of them. To help effect a technical solution to the problem, in 1903 all Imperial ships larger than a destroyer were taken in hand and fitted with crude centralized fire control stations (with the exception of the two French-built Dominus class battleships, which were too top-heavy for the first version). Autokrator would be the first capital ship in the world built from the keel up to have this system of fire control.

1903 saw the Empire first exploit its new sea-power in an active way with the dispatch of a powerful squadron built around the battleship Basileus to war-torn Morocco, outside the waters of the Mediterranean. This was done with French approval, but for Spain it was the last straw: an ultimatum was issued by Madrid and on September 12, 1904, a state of war was declared by the Empire.

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1904: War with Spain

The Armada Espanola, like its Imperial rival, had once been the greatest fleet in the world, had fallen upon hard times in the post-Renaissance era and was now attempting to re-invent and re-invigorate itself. Spanish efforts were hampered by the extreme corruption of the court, by inefficiencies caused by outmoded administration, and above all else by the financial drain of maintaining large armies in its rebellious colonial provinces. Compromises had been accepted; to get the required number of ships into service, Spain had ordered and built vessels that were smaller and weaker than those of her European counterparts. But at least on paper the Armada Espanola was capable of contesting the waters of the Western Mediterranean and keeping the sealanes open to its colonies. War would starkly show the difference between the Armada’s paper strength and its actual capabilities.

The Spanish Fernando VII class battleship

The first action of the war, and the first combat experience of the modern Byzantine Navy, occurred only a week after the war officially began. Destroyers of both nations collided in a patrol sweep in the Sicilian Channel around the island of Pantelleria, just west of British Malta. Byzantium had three new 600-ton ships of the D-15 class, heavily-armed with 6-3” guns and three swivel torpedo tubes, better sea-boats but at 27-knots a trifle slower than the Spanish 400 and 500-ton torpedo boats. The Spanish flotilla immediately turned north to disengage and the Imperial destroyers ran west in an attempt to get around their flank. Imperial gunnery was good; repeated hits on Almirante Valdes slowed her enough for the Byzantine ships to come up to close range for the finish. Rather than turn back for a general engagement the other Spanish destroyers kept on, leaving D-15 under Commander Anas Rhoton to pump 3” shells into Almirante Valdes at point-blank range. This was followed by a torpedo which sent the Spaniard down and left the Imperial destroyers in possession of the channel.

While celebrated in the Imperial newspapers and in the Navarchy, the victory at Pantelleria was of course only a small one. It did show that the Imperial Navy was eager to fight even at unequal odds, perhaps rashly so; the Spanish were less willing to engage if the odds were against them. While it is true that actions can become habits and beliefs can be self-reinforcing, there was not much to be learned from this battle as to which tactics might be successful. The Imperial Navy’s desire to grapple at point-blank range seemed to be vindicated and would become more than doctrine - it would become an article of faith that the path to victory in battle lay through close engagement. The limitations of this approach would become apparent in time but it was so deeply rooted in the Navy’s culture that it would be difficult to challenge, much less change.

With war now come, supplementary appropriations from the Imperial Assembly allowed an enlarged and improved Autokrator to be laid down under the name Thalassion. A modest increase in displacement to 18,000-tons permitted the secondary battery to be expanded to 12-10” guns in six wing turrets (three per side) and a tertiary battery of 12-6” guns to be mounted in casemates, with speed and armor remaining as in the previous design. The ships were deliberately built to resemble the Autokrator in profile, and the ships could only be told apart by counting the wing turrets.

Plan view of Thalassion showing the resemblance to Autokrator

As intended in pre-war naval planning, the four Medusa-class light cruisers and the two Hellas-class armored cruisers were dispatched on commerce-raiding cruises in Mediterranean and North Atlantic waters while Imperial and Austrian light forces prowled the Spanish coasts. Spain’s railroads were limited, her roads primitive and her geography peninsular, making her strategic situation more akin to an island than to a continental nation. Almost all of her trade and commerce were conducted by sea, making her more vulnerable to a blockading and raiding strategy than a continental nation with a good transportation infrastructure such as France or Germany would be.

Naval doctrine of the time required a close blockade of the type last seen in the Napoleonic Wars, with warships off the harbor mouth of the major ports. Technical advances in warship construction, however, made this not just infeasible but impossible. In firepower, armor and gun-power the steel battleship of 1900 was immeasurably superior to Nelsonian wooden ships-of-the-line; a single steel battleship could have swept a fleet of sailing ships from the sea. But Nelson’s Victory drew her propulsive power from the wind and could remain at sea for months if not years without returning to port. In contrast a steel battleship might consume more than 200 tons of coal a day at its most economical rate, and carry 2000 tons – no more than a week’s supply with a small reserve – in her bunkers. Re-coaling a ship at sea was complex, labor-intensive, time-consuming, and dependent on good weather. Thus in order to operate a battle-fleet was tied to a nearby, secure base, and that base must have a stock-pile of tens of thousands of tons of coal. Despite the historical precedent and the desire of naval officers to impose a close blockade, the physical constraints of coal-fired warships made it simply impossible to do so. The most that could be done was to post light forces off the enemy’s major ports and arrange for periodic sweeps by the battle-fleet if the enemy put to sea. This inability to carry out a close blockade was an unwelcome and surprisingly unforeseen strategic development, and how the Imperial Navy would cope with the new logistical and operational demands made the Spanish War of interest to every foreign naval power.

Newspaper photograph of Imperial Admirals of the Spanish Wars: Andreas Tsoukas, Ion Theodoros and Georgios Lykos


A tinted photograph of Admiral Pascual Cervera


The diminutive but fiery Admiral Luis De Rojas

Soon after the destroyer fight off Pantelleria, Maltese waters saw the first action involving capital ships. On a rainy afternoon in mid-October of 1904 a squadron built around four Byzantine battleships (two Basileus and two Dominus class) accompanied by a light cruiser and destroyer flotillas encountered five Spanish battleships and escorts in the lee of Tunisian Cape Bon. It was quickly apparent that Admiral Georgios Lykos was eager to engage while the Spanish Almirante Cervera was not. Cervera had attempted at the outbreak of war to avoid an appointment to command the Spanish battlefleet and was all-too-aware of the weaknesses of his force. Spain’s battleships of the Fernando VII class could make the same 19 knots as Imperial battleships but carried no gun larger than 9”, and their 6” armor belt was more suited to a cruiser than to a capital ship. They were, he had remarked, “slower than cruisers and weaker than battleships, able to contend with neither… useless.”

Despite the scouting forces spread out before each fleet like fingers of a searching hand, the bad weather meant that the ships were at close range when the first sightings were reported at 2:45pm. Flags being invisible in the murk and lights nearly ineffective, the fleets were almost deprived of the power of communication and were under fire before either admiral could react. As the Spanish battleships were sailing east, Admiral Lykos turned his ships north across the enemy’s wake to bar their line of retreat and signaled his destroyers to maneuver independently. The big guns opened fire at a range of less than 4000 yards; at 3:10 pm a desperate Cervera sent his own destroyers in to the attack and brought his battleships around in a hairpin-turn to the northwest. Cervera’s neat line disintegrated into a muddle; Lykos’ own battle squadron (Basileus and Justinian) stood steadily on but 2nd Division (Dominus and Strategos, under Rear-Admiral Miklos Varnatzin), turned sharply away from the expected torpedo attack.

As Admiral Lykos said at Varnatzin’s court-martial, “There was a want of aggressiveness in subordinate commanders.” Varnatzin would not be convicted of disobedience to orders or cowardice in the face of the enemy, but would never again hold a sea command. The Navy was not yet acquainted with the fearsome damage a torpedo striking below the waterline could inflict, and was not prepared to excuse a subordinate’s action that took half of its capital ships out of the battle.

At 4:10pm, after an hour’s fruitless cannonade in which the whitecaps and low visibility made it impossible to spot the fall of shot, Admiral Lykos broke off his pursuit and steamed southeast to reform his battle-line. Despite the early promising chance of trapping the enemy battleships in narrow waters and forcing them to fight, the Battle of the Maltese Channel ended with no more than light damage to any ship.

Clearly the Imperial Navy’s willingness to offer battle was frustrated by its inability to do so, and no area of performance came in for more detailed post-battle criticism than signals. Signal flags and mast-head lights were adequate to fair-weather steaming in the mild Mediterranean summer weather but maneuvering a battle-fleet at high speed in the storm and dark with nothing better was an invitation to disarray if not outright disaster. From its own resources the Navy was able to suggest only improvements to its codes, binding actions to short sequences of flags and lights. No manufacturer could provide a technical solution – most seemed unaware that there was even a problem to address – save for the American Walford signaler, which was said look “like an octopus in seizure”. Without a technical solution, Theodoros determined that the answer must lie in training; the battlefleet would maneuver in all weathers until its captains instinctively knew what to expect, with signals or without them. That was as much concession as he was willing to make; training in gunnery and torpedo tactics would continue to take precedence and the Navy relegated the Battle of the Maltese Channel to the category of an unhappy and avoidable accident. “Battleships in combat at night are like elephants on the ice,” Admiral Lykos averred. “Best not to place them there,” though how that was to be managed remained unanswered.