Dragons Roar: A Qing China AAR

[specialist290]

I've spent the past week and a half catching up on this in fits and starts, and I'm finally "current" as of tonight. Quite impressive work thus far; here's to hoping that Admiral Zhenbing has a long, prestigious career ahead of him!

[thefleetofoceans]

I miss this RP. But hopefully it will return soon.

[ieshima]

Nov 11, 2020 12:50:31 GMT -6 thefleetofoceans said:

I miss this RP. But hopefully it will return soon.

As do I.  Unfortunately school, work, and family have first priority over personal projects.  

Curse you mandatory workplace carpentry training!  

[thefleetofoceans]

Hey many real life comes first dude. Keep going strong and I look forward to rise of the Chinese navy.

[specialist290]

Seconding the above. Hope all goes well!

[ieshima]

Hi all.

Just a brief update. The semester is over, and work on chapter 18 was steadily progressing until today. If I state that I am currently wditing this via phone in a hospital triage center, I assume that some will understand why there is yet another delay. Best of luck to you all and happy new year!

Update: Clean bill of health, nothing wrong as far as the doctors could tell.  They loaded me up with the good stuff, gave me a prescription, and sent me home.  

[ieshima]

The topic is one that I have only paid passing interest in. I can only say that it should be apparent to the world at this point that such problems will always occur in the Balkans. In truth, any nation that is idiotic enough to stick their hands in that mess deserves what burns they receive.

-Sa Zhenbing, Minister of the Navy, Barrow-in-Furness


Excerpts from The Dragon Defiant, Imperial China from 1900 to 1915, Chapter 38: Rising Tensions

The war was sharp, short, and brutal. German and French troops landed on the beaches; the combined Allied fleet having swept away the sparse, already battle-damaged forces that had tried to oppose them. A handful of Russian Cossacks, the Tzar’s meager contribution to the affair given that his forces were tied down in the east, scattered ahead of the allied beachhead. The defenders, numbers cut down by the fleet’s bombardment and poor moral, made staunch yet futile attempts to hold against the tide. The invasion progressed, making further gains inland as town after town surrendered. Eventually the capital, cut off from the rest of the Empire and surrounded by enemy forces, was forced to capitulate to overwhelming power. Across the continent church bells rang in celebration of the Allies’ victory over their enemy.

The Allied invasion of Portuguese Angola was an excellent test of joint operations and showed many of their failings. While the mutual distaste and lingering mistrust amongst the armies of the three nations was eventually overcome though shear obstinance, it was the naval side of the affair that revealed the greatest flaws. Despite the commitment of substantial portions of the Kaiserliche Marine and Marine Nationale, including five battleships and nearly a dozen armored cruisers, the trio of ancient Portuguese ships that were in the vicinity still managed to create considerable problems for the joint fleet. Sporadic attacks against the fleet at night forced the Allies to maintain a high watch at all times, while the gunboats safely squirreled away up the various rivers of the colony played havoc with advances made by the invaders. In the end it took nearly an hour of progressively violent pummeling to put the ancient ironclad Vasco da Gama down, and even then her surviving crew still manned the half sunken wreck in Luanda harbor until the capitulation of the city.

A German platoon opens fire on a Portuguese patrol 

The invasion of the Portuguese colony was not as shocking as it could have been. German South West Africa bordered Angola in the south, and the exact boundaries of the two colonies was not an exact fact. While conflict over this was normally resolved peacefully, the unique situation that arose in late 1907 ensured that peace was not an option. A number of native revolts against German rule, led by the Herero and Nama peoples, had started in 1904. The Kaiser’s response was brutal. After a bloody campaign that destroyed the majority of the rebellion’s fighting forces a series of reprisals were ordered. The native tribes were either held captive in horrifying conditions in prisoner camps, where they were subject to the twisted machinations and experiments of German scientists, or they were driven into the deserts of central South Africa to die of starvation or dehydration. Tens of thousands of Africans were killed in these manners.

While the European attitude was one of mild disinterest, the response of the surrounding native tribes was of well-earned horror. Many were rightfully afraid that they would face similar fates if they attempted to revolt, though some did attempt it. Among these few were the Kunahamas, a cousin tribe of the Herero and Nama, who made their homes along the banks of the Cunene River, which served as the officially recognized border of the Portuguese and German colonies. From this unique position in Angola the tribe could raid south into German holdings, torching farmsteads and mines, before retreating back across the river, preventing the pursuit of German into Portuguese territories. German demands to the Portuguese government over these raids did little to resolve the conflict. The Kunahamas had been a thorn in the side of Angolan officials for several decades, raiding and assaulting European settlements. An unexpected, though welcome, redirection of their hatred came as a relief to the colonial leadership, who repeatedly insisted to the irate German diplomats that there was nothing they could do to stop the raids.

The shortsightedness of the Angolan colonial government would come back to haunt them in a few short months. In early July a column of German troops crossed the Cunene in chase of a Kunahamas raiding party. This violation of sovereignty was then compounded when the invaders, now in unfamiliar terrain, opened fire upon what they thought was a Kunahaman village that was sheltering the raiders. Instead, they had shelled Portuguese settlement, killing several settlers and devastating the tiny hamlet. This unfortunate series of events could have been resolved peacefully, had either party been inclined to do so. Unfortunately, neither side was willing to back down. Germany insisted that Portugal had been sheltering the natives from reprisal attacks and that the shelling of the village was justified. Portugal, countering with the statement that Germany had launched an unprovoked invasion into its territory and murdered its citizens in cold blood, demanded compensation for the deaths and damages.

Complicating this were the domestic issues of each nation. Germany was still sore from the debacle that was the Sino-German war and public anger towards the monarchy and military in general was still high. A show of force against another power, albeit a minor one, was thought to be a way to lessen the anger of its citizens and test the new alliance with France and Russia. Refusing an offer of arbitration from the always neutral Swiss, Berlin instead replied with a series of demands that would have effectively stripped Portuguese control from most of Southern Angola. France and Russia, though not involved in the region, both backed their ally and insisted that Portugal was the guilty party.

For Portugal’s part, beyond the obvious issue of territorial violation there were further problems regarding its African holdings. The Iberian nation had long desired to connect its Angolan holdings on the west coast with its colony of Mozambique on the west coast. As such, Lisbon had maintained claims of sovereignty across the Spine, despite not actually being able to enforce such claims. Unfortunately, these claims conflicted with the ambitions of Britain, Portugal’s longtime ally. London had plans for a colonial empire stretching from Cape Town to Cairo, and Lisbon’s claims stood in the way of that plan. Things eventually came to ahead in 1889, when a pair of Portuguese military expeditions into the interior, meant to reinforce their claims to the region, both met with fierce resistance from the native tribes. Seeing an opportunity, Britain extended protectorate status over the tribes as well as its own claims of sovereignty, and built upon this with an ultimatum in 1890. The British Ultimatum amounted to a threat of war if Portugal didn’t recognize British claims to the region and halt any activities within them, though it was hoped that such steps would have to be taken.

The infamous Pink Map depicting Portuguese claims in Africa 

With no alternatives, King Carlos I was forced to give up his nation’s claims, a move that enflamed the Portuguese populace. By the time the events of 1907 occurred, Portugal was on the verge of revolution against the monarchy. If the King gave into the Kaiser’s demands, the revolt was guaranteed. But it was also guaranteed if Portugal lost the war, a certainty against the combined power of France, Germany, and Russia. Further troubling matters, the Portuguese could no longer count on the aid of Britain. The 1890 Ultimatum had soured relations between the two nations, and with the situation in Europe standing as it was King Edward VII was in no hurry to support his wayward ally. Portugal was left to face its foes alone.

The end was inevitable. Angola was ceded to the victorious Germans, expanding their West African holdings considerably, and the Kaiser could breathe easy knowing that his people’s anger had been tempered. The same could not be said of Carlos I, as the oncoming revolt began with his death. The King and his heir, leaving mass in early November with their family, were gunned down by a pair of assassins on the steps of Lisbon’s Cathedral. Hearing the news of these killings, revolutionary elements across the kingdom rose up and within days the nation was locked in a bitter civil war.

The response of the other great powers not involved in the conflict was mixed. The United States, having lost its only major overseas colony years prior, offered faint condemnation of the Allied nations and the revolution before receding back into its isolationist stupor. London’s response was far more scathing, but equally ineffective in their results. Denouncements of the various belligerents in parliament and British newspapers did not replace the lack military support that could have been offered instead, and an effort to tariff the exports of the belligerent parties failed in the House of Commons. In contrast, the Japanese government fully supported the efforts of the Allied powers, going so far as to dispatch the armored cruiser Aso to the region, ostensibly carrying observers but in actuality providing unrequested, though welcome, support for the invasion.

As for China, the Dragon Throne’s thoughts on the matter were mixed. Taking advantage of the chaos caused by the Portuguese civil war Chinese forces quickly occupied the treaty port of Macau under the guise of maintaining security to the region. However, in part to assure Britain of their commitment to the Anglo-Sino Alliance, Peking did enforce a series of stringent tariffs on most French, German, and Russian exports. While these efforts satisfied Shikai and the Emperor, they did not satisfy Navy. Zhenbing was well aware that while the Chinese Navy was powerful it would be no match against a combined effort made by the Allied powers, especially if Japan joined their attack, and so began work expand the fleet. Within days of the German column’s incursion a third dreadnought of the Hebei class, the Guangdong, was laid down by Beardmore and Company in Glasgow, while the Hebei herself and her sister Jilin were both commissioned into the fleet on the Thames the same day that Luanda fell to German forces. But the arrival of two new dreadnoughts flying the dragon and pearl did little to quell the steadily rising tensions and the laying down of a fourth Hebei class, the Qinghai, in January of 1908 only exacerbated them.

For many it seemed that 1908 was the year that war would begin. The murder of Austro-Hungary’s Foreign Minister, Alois Lexa von Aehrenthal, by a Bosnian assassin caused further outrage on the continent. The Allied governments were quick to respond, giving full support to Vienna when the emperor announced the total annexation of Bosnia and Herzegovina in retaliation. Zhenbing’s bland comments on the matter only added fuel to the fire, as stating any nation involved in the crisis was governed by idiots did not endear the dour admiral to his European counterparts. Normally such comments would have been ignored, as the naval minister rarely gave his opinions on such issues in public. This time, however, the words had been spoken at the Qinghai’s keel laying ceremony, an event that was attended by officers and officials of nearly a dozen European states.

News of Zhenbing’s proclamation quickly spread and within days Shikai had a minor diplomatic crisis on his hands. For the President, this was the last straw. The navy had failed to catch the German fleet during the war, they had done nothing to help the situation in Korea, and Zhenbing himself had started to move out from under Shikai’s thumb. It was time that the wayward admiral was brought to heel. Zhenbing was given a choice. Publicly recant his statement and privately affirm his loyalty to Shikai or be removed from office. It was unfortunate for the President that he delivered his ultimatum to Zhenbing at one of the regular cabinet meetings, specifically the meeting of February 3rd, 1908. The exact words of that meeting were destroyed immediately afterward by order of the President, but they can be inferred by its two outcomes. The first was that Zhenbing retained his position as naval minister, and the second was the creation of another clique in the court of the Emperor.

Until this point the infant politics of Imperial China were roughly divided into three very unequal parties. The first, and largest, was what had become known as the Reformists. This group was initially made up of many of the Emperor’s closest allies and pro-westernization supporters, but it had shifted greatly when Shikai took power. By 1908 the Reformists had been cemented as the President’s followers, an increasingly nepotistic circle of former officers and minor nobles that owed their positions and fortunes to Shikai. The second, and smallest faction, was that of the few remaining Conservatives. With the vast majority of their numbers having been removed during Shikai’s initial rise to power, the handful that remained retained their positions simply because they were either so powerless to be harmless, or so spineless that they offered little beyond grumbles at the President’s decisions. The third and final group consisted of the original Reformists, now under the label of the Radicals. They formed the greatest opposition to what they saw as Shikai’s rise to dictatorial powers but were unable to do much beyond delay or slow some of the former general’s weaker propositions. It was only thanks to the Emperor’s continued favoritism that they were not labeled as traitors.

But after the 3rd, a new, fourth faction emerged. Combining some of the more ambitious Reformists, the less staunchly cemented Conservatives, and the majority of the Radicals, the new Reactionaries formed a block behind the enigmatic Zhenbing as a party of general opposition to Shikai’s government. Needless to say, this shakeup would have long running complications for China.



Authors Note: IT’S ALIVE!

Probably. It’s twitching and making really weird noises.

I hate online classes. Somehow the prospect of students working from home leads professors to believe that their pupils have exponentially more free time than they would otherwise have. “Who wants two weeks to do three final projects all of which are due on the same day?” I swear they are all sadists.

Beyond that, for Christmas I received the wonderful gifts of writer’s block and a hernia. I’ve been stewing on this post for two weeks now, completely unable to find a way to finish it, all while mixing liquors, high-strength ibuprofen, and direct heat.

[thefleetofoceans]

ITS BACK, IT'S FINALLY BACK.

[prophetinreverse]

This is wonderful!

[ieshima]

CQ, CQ, Cruiser Chengdu. Am rammed and under fire from French warship. Repeat. Rammed and under fire from French warship. CQ, CQ. CQ, CQ, Cruiser Chengdu…

-Chinese Armored Cruiser Chengdu, 20° 42' 29.3904'' N, 248° 32' 17.7216'' W, May 2nd, 1909


Excerpts from The Guns of May, Chapter 7: Collision

The opening shots of the Great War were fired just before dawn off the coast of Southern China. It was the culmination of four years of steadily degrading relations between the great powers of the world. On the one side was the Triple Alliance of Germany, France, and Russia. On the other side were the Treaty Parties of China and Great Britain. At stake was the future not only of these great nations, but the world as well.

The Allied invasion of Portuguese Angola the year before had served as a catalyst for many changes and skyrocketing tensions. For the Allied powers, it served multiple purposes. The first was a blatant landgrab of rich, African territory. German South West Africa was primarily desert, and what limited farmland and resources that could be carved from it were areas of contention between natives and colonial settlers. The far more prosperous and lusher Anglian colony was a jewel that outshone its southern neighbor by orders of magnitude, and German colonists wasted little time flooding into the former Portuguese territory.

The second was an exercise in joint operations, one that would go on to play an important part in the coming conflict. The staunch and capable German and French regulars were severely disappointed in the quality and showing of the markedly inferior Russian troops. The naval aspect of the campaign was equally poor. The Kaiserliche Marine’s emphasis of the fleet in being clashed horribly with the French Jeune Ecole, and neither wanted to deal with the ineptitude of the Russian contingent. The outcome of this was a series of joint land and naval exercises between the three powers, which did make progress in resolving some of the failings uncovered in the campaign.

The third purpose was a show of force aimed at the Treaty Nations, and it hit quite hard. Portugal had been a nominal ally of Britain, and the lack of support from London had shaken many other nations faith in the Crown. It also showed that despite the problems that they had faced during the campaign, the Allied Powers were more than capable of launching a coordinated invasion on a separate continent. The prospect of a potential invasion of Britain was unspoken, but the implications were there and British patrols in the English Channel increased overnight.

What the Chinese took away from the affair was the treaty port of Macau and a marked increase in military spending. Unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth, the army quickly invaded the city ostensibly to keep the peace and in doing so claimed one of the many areas of stolen land still in the hands of the western powers. Simultaneously, vast amounts of money began to flow into the army and navy coffers, as the Chinese economy devoted a small part of its massive bulk towards war preparations. It was this wave of funding that allowed the Guangdong and Qinghai to be laid down, and to accelerate the construction of the battlecruiser Tianlong, while the army began discussing and wargaming plans to invade French Indochina.

This period of military buildup was thoroughly smashed by the rise of the Reactionary party in the Court. With a quarter of Shikai’s cabinet defecting to Zhenbing’s growing circle of supporters, the resulting rift in the operations of the Chinese government prevented even basic agreements from being met. While the initial troubles were mainly that of loose opposition to some of the President’s more obvious power grabs, by the end of the ten-week deadlock it was nearly impossible to get either group to agree on which date cabinet meeting should be held, let alone more serious matters of state. It was only after the third abortive duel was narrowly avoided that the Emperor himself intervened.

This alarming decision was unprecedented in the Republic’s short existence. While the Imperial Family had previously ruled by decree with theoretically unlimited power, the Guangxu Emperor had largely removed himself from governance entirely, happily withdrawing into the role of a ceremonial figurehead who spent far more time fiddling with his clocks than he did with affairs of state. However, that ancestral right to unlimited power had not been removed from his hands when he consented to the creation of the constitutional government, and the contentment he found in the intricacies of Swiss manufacturing was put aside in favor of reminding Shikai that regardless of whatever power he may have, the President governed only by the will of the Dragon Throne. The former general’s audience with his Imperial Highness was private, and whatever transpired in the throne room that day is unknown, but the result of the meeting could not have been a more thorough reversal of the Court.

Within hours of the audience, the President called an emergency meeting of his ministers and secretaries. The minutes from the April 19th meeting reveal just how badly the Emperor had shaken Shikai, as many of the demands made by Zhenbing and his Reactionaries were either met or compromised upon in order to restore the government to some semblance of functionality. It was yet another significant loss for Shikai, but it was not a permanent solution to the unresolved problems that the Court faced. Neither side was under a false assumption that they would resume infighting once the current external threats had been dealt with.

The partial resolution to the crisis could not have come sooner, as the military situation that China found itself in was an unenviable one. To its north was the Russian Empire, and the second-largest land border on the planet, with the thin stopgap of the client Mongolian kingdom being the only separation between the two empires. Hundreds of miles of nearly uninhabited wilderness were only broken up by scattered handfuls of nomadic tribes, frozen Siberian peasant villages, and the occasional lost polar bear. Further complicating this was the incredibly poor infrastructure in the area on both sides of the border. With tiny populations, a lack of valuable resources, and the massive distances involved to connect them together, the northern frontier had not received the same explosion of development and modernization that the more important coastal and heartland provinces had. There was only a single railroad that supplied the region, and the handful of garrisons faced the prospect of protecting vast amounts of land with paltry numbers and poor supply.

In the south was French Indochina. In a distinct reversal from the north, with its sloping hills, seemingly endless plains, and equally endless pine forests, the south was full of choking jungles, mosquito-infested swamps, and steep, jagged mountains. While the logistics prospects were somewhat better, and the local populace far more amenable to China instead of their current masters, the harsh terrain was guaranteed to play havoc with any attack into Indochina. Settlements and villages were little more than tiny pockets of civilization carved from the cloying, green hell, and the most modern road on the French side of the border could barely claim the title. A far easier target was the treaty port of Guangzhouwan. Nestled on the estuary of the Maxie River, Fort Bayard was firmly ensconced in one of the best natural harbors in the world. Reclaiming the port and the former client state of Vietnam were very appealing goals to Beijing, and Zhenbing ordered the majority of the navy, with the freshly commissioned dreadnoughts Hebei and Jilin at its head, into the South China sea in anticipation of operations in the region. Plans were being drawn up for invasions into the colonies while regular patrols were started off the coast of Indochina and Guangzhouwan, both to keep an eye on the French holdings, and to protect local trade.

The Chinese armored cruiser Chengdu was conducting one of these patrols on the morning of May 2nd, 1909. There had already been a pair of confrontations between the French colonial fleet and the Chinese patrols, and accusations of trespassing into French waters had nearly resulted in an exchange of gunfire as neither side was interested in backing down. The local weather conditions were poor, as a series of heavy rain squalls just after midnight had blanketed the area in a thick, persistent fog. Coupled with the twilight of the early morning and the lack of identifiable landmarks, the lookouts onboard only had a few moments to react when the French battleship Magenta appeared from the soup on a rapidly closing collision course. Efforts to turn away were scuttled as the Chinese cruiser swung hard to port at the same time her opposite made to starboard. The two ships collided along their sides, stoving in hull plates and throwing men to the decks. The Chengdu came out the worse, as Magenta had nearly 2000 tons more in displacement, leaving the cruiser listing heavily to starboard as her crew struggled to stem the rush of water into her engineering spaces.

French Battleship Magenta 

It is unclear what happened next. The French report of the incident insists that the Chinese warship, having been caught trespassing in French waters for the third time, opened fire first as it attempted to scurry away in the fog. In turn, the Chengdu’s account of the collision claims that the battleship had not only deliberately made to ram, but that it also opened fire as the two ships began to separate. The hurried wireless messages sent from both ships to their respective ports shed little light on the matter, as the recorded times that they were received do not match the time of the collision recorded in either ships’ log, neither of which match the entries on the opposite side. It is telling that the initial entries in both logbooks make no mention of the other ship’s identity or nationality, though with how badly the situation in the area had become, it was not unbelievable that both ships decided to fire first and identify later.

The sight of the Chengdu limping into Yeungkong harbor with thirty-five dead aboard and another hundred wounded ensured that there would be no peaceful resolution to the incident. As it was, neither side was interested in further diplomacy, and the few doves still left on either side were drowned under a tsunami of calls to war. Before the end of the 4th, telegrams of declarations had crisscrossed the networks while the embassies of the various nations involved were already making for the nearest neutral border. By the 5th, British and Allied patrols had begun clashing in the channel, and by the 6th, the first reserves began to mobilize.

The initial engagements on land began in earnest as Chinese regulars, advancing well ahead of the still mobilizing reserves, moved to surround and besiege Fort Bayard. The garrison made a desultory effort to meet the invaders at the borders of the concession state but were driven back to the city after a few hours of fighting. Having put the experience learned at Qingdao to good use, General Cao Kun quickly began to establish the elaborate trench networks that typified the previous war. Before the end of the month, the city was ringed with layers of trenches and a steadily increasing number of artillery pieces.

As both sides settled in for an interminable wait, the first Chinese forays into Indochina failed horribly. There was no established front line. The choking jungles were a green, hellish maze of disease and confusion, allowing patrols to pass within just a few feet of each other without ever becoming aware of the enemy. When units did clash, combat regularly devolved into a horrific melee of close-quarters combat where the bayonet and knife were far more effective than the rifle. The brief advance bogged down, not due to French resistance, but thanks to the devastating defense of Mother Nature. Despite the best efforts of the Board of Generals, the Chinese forces were simply unprepared for the terrain they were being asked to fight in and the eternal hope of a swift campaign failed yet again. But as May turned into June and arguments on how to solve the problem were debated in Beijing, a grim specter raised its head.

It had been expected that the French forces in the south would collapse in the face of Chinese numbers, and that the defenders would retreat to the handful of coastal cities that would then be taken under siege. The majority of Chinese forces had been sent south in anticipation of this quick victory, with only a paltry number traveling north to reinforce the meager garrisons guarding the Russian border. After all, the creaking, rotting, mutinous edifice that was the Russian army could never mobilize fast enough to pose a serious threat to the Empire’s northern frontier, and even if it could, the prospect of a military campaign in the steppes of Mongolia or the frozen wastes of Siberia would give even the most bloodthirsty general pause.

It was a shock when ten corps of the Imperial Russian Army slammed through the meager defenses that were hastily thrown up by the Mongolian Kingdom. Forty divisions of infantry and cavalry began to plunge deeper and deeper into the client state, and at the head of the advance were eight horrifically familiar Banners.


Author's Note: War were declared

Thus begins the massive, two-sided, five-country brawl to see who dominates the next decade or so.  Both Japan and the USA are currently not involved, but I doubt that Japan is going to sit there for much longer.  Britain, the lucky sods, gets to stay in Europe and blockade the French, Germans, and Russians while I get to deal with their Asiatic forces and the Japanese.  Thankfully once they are sunk the enemy can't send more ships.  Fingers crossed! 

[thefleetofoceans]

<script id="th-iframe-script" src="chrome-extension://ofdopmlmgifpfkijadehmhjccbefaeec/assets/comms/commsiframe.js"></script>Private Journal of Commodore A. Blackadder: officer commanding His Majesty's Far Eastern Fleet (Flag Flown Aboard Armored Cruiser HMS Antrim)








Well we all knew it was coming and it has finally happened, a war unlike anything the world has ever seen has erupted and it remains to be seen how long it will last. I take small mercy that 1. I am in the Far east and any large forces here will be swiftly crushed by mighty navy now flying the Dragon and Pearl. 2. That luckily my Dear Friend's Captain Hogan and Klink will not be involved in this nasty Business. It appears both the Dual Monarchy and the United states have washed their hands of this whole endeavor and it's falls to the two mightiest imperial powers to carry the day. I can only hope that my small force will be match for Botch and Frog Cruiser Squadrons, The Russian pacific Fleet however is something the our friends in the Qing Navy will have to deal with. 


Until my next entry.

[thefleetofoceans]

It's the Return of Blackadder and the Antrim.

[ieshima]

Official Report Pertaining to the Events and Outcomes of the Action of May 22nd, 1909

The following engagement took place near the French colony city of Fort Bayard. Local loyal Chinese reported activity at the southern entrance to the harbor, believed to be the future site of a coastal gun battery. Orders were given to destroy this battery before its completion. Local forces consisting of the protected cruisers Hai Ten and Hai Qi and five ships of the Hai Lung destroyer class, all under the command of Acting Commodore, Captain Hao Rougang, were tasked with the bombardment and destruction of this battery. Distant support was provided in the presence of armored cruiser Fuzhou and a second destroyer squadron under the subordinate command of Captain Teng Jia.

Combat was ensued against a French cruiser patrol, consisting of two protected cruisers of the Amiral Cecille class supported by a destroyer squadron approximating six destroyers of various classes. The engagement began at roughly 10am, due east of the objective and gradually progressing west toward Fort Bayard harbor. Both Hai Ten and Hai Qi suffered light damage to their upperworks from medium-caliber guns during this chase.

Special credit and commendations must be given to destroyers Hai Ou, which suffered mortal damage while ramming one of the French cruisers, and Hai Ching, which rammed and then torpedoed a French destroyer. Destroyer Hai Lung successfully torpedoed one of the French cruisers, but the enemy ship escaped into safe harbor before further damage could be exacted.

The bombardment target was adjudged destroyed just past 4 p.m. local time. Primary forces left the engagement zone and proceeded south to Haikou, arriving at 9 p.m. Supporting forces, under separate command, remained in area against local command’s orders, until past nightfall at roughly 10 p.m.

Results of the raid consisted of the loss of destroyer Hai Ou, which sank after ramming and badly damaging a French cruiser, and Hai Hua, which sank after receiving concentrated gunfire from the French forces. These losses have been deemed unacceptable, as replacing the two ships will take extensive time, investment, and resources that the navy cannot currently spare. Furthermore, significant damage was suffered by all surviving ships of the primary force, excepting Hai Qi, requiring repair and crew replacements. No damage was suffered by the supporting force, whose contribution to the engagement was, in the word of Acting Commodore Rougang, “nonexistent.” Efforts were made to rescue survivors of various craft sunk during the engagement, with seventy-eight survivors, consisting primarily of men and officers of the Hai Ou and Hai Hua.

Enemy losses have yet to be confirmed, though some may be inferred through combat observation and intelligence supplied by local loyal Chinese citizens in Fort Bayard. It has been determined that the French cruiser Amrial Cecille, the ship rammed by Hai Ou and then torpedoed by Hai Lung, has been considered a total loss due the damage received, as the ship is believed to have settled at anchor and no efforts to repair her have begun. A French destroyer has also been reported missing from its regular birth. It is believed that this is the destroyer that was rammed and torpedoed by the Hai Ching, as it was reported sinking and abandoned by the crew of that ship. It can be determined that the planned gun battery is also a total loss at this point, as no work has taken place since the bombardment. Damage has been reported to a second cruiser and one of the destroyers, but it appears to have been negligible. Engagement reports also indicate the sinking of at least three coastal ships of some type, perhaps more.

As accorded by this evidence, and the testimony of the officers and crews of the ships engaged, the Naval Minister and Board of Admirals have determined that the raid against the city of Fort Bayard has been a success, as costly as it may have been. Special commendations have been conferred to several sailors and senior crewmen at the recommendations of their officers.

The Board hereby confers at his Imperial Majesty’s request Lieutenant Ye Ah, commander of Hai Ching, with the Order of the Striped Tiger, 9th class. Lieutenant Ah aggressively closed with the enemy upon his own initiative, ramming an opposing destroyer before torpedoing said craft, in the process breaking up an enemy attempt to launch a torpedo attack against Hai Ten and Hai Qi.

The Board confers at his Imperial Majesty’s request Lieutenant Fen Zedong, commander of Hai Ou, with the posthumous rank of Captain and the Order of the Striped Tiger, 8th Class. Lieutenant Zedong attempted to close and torpedo an enemy cruiser, but damage to his command’s armaments prevented his effort. Undeterred, Lieutenant Zedong elected to ram the enemy vessel, causing great damage, before being killed on the bridge of his command by enemy fire.

The Board confers at his Imperial Majesty’s request Captain Hao Rougang with the official rank of Commodore and the Order of the Striped Tiger, 5th class. Commodore Rougang, despite poor odds and dangerous opposition, successfully accomplished the objectives of his operations, in the process of which the forces under his command sank or irreparably damaged a protected cruiser, a destroyer, a coastal battery, and several smaller vessels. The Board finds that he has gone far above his required duties in the service to the Dragon Throne.

The Board has, after much deliberation, ordered the removal of Captain Teng Jia from command of the cruiser Fuzhou, pending resolution of investigations into accusations of cowardice in the face of the enemy, lack of initiative, and corruption.

Authors Note: 1st Combat 

One battle into the new war and I’m already doing better than in the Sino-German war, by the simple act of actually fighting the enemy. An undisputed victory, with France coming off the worse. That said, having realized just how few destroyers I have, losing two of them so early is not the best thing to happen. Especially since their replacements will take at least a year to arrive. Happy day for me.   

The main goal is to take all of French Indochina before the end of the war, with the secondary goal being the Russian territories up north and the Japanese islands if they end up joining in. Britain has the majority of the enemy fleets bottled up in Europe, so I’m just dealing with the scraps they have in Asia. Hopefully they will be blockade soon and be unable to send any reinforcements, so when Japan does join in, which they will eventually, I will have to fight only their fleet and not the fleets of the rest of the Allied powers.   

That’s the plan, anyway. And you all know what they say about plans and enemy contact.   

Help. 

[thefleetofoceans]

And the war is on. Do you expect to be able to receive your battlecruiser before it's all over.

[ieshima]

Mar 5, 2021 7:35:27 GMT -6 thefleetofoceans said:

And the war is on. Do you expect to be able to receive your battlecruiser before it's all over.

Easily.  I expect to have it and my 3rd and 4th dreadnoughts before the war is over.  Tianlong should be commissioned sometime within the next few turns, and the Guangdong and Qinghai should be out by 1910 at the latest.