The headquarters of the Imperial German Navy stood within Berlin's Bendlerblock, where maps and reports carried almost as much weight as the men studying them.
By late August, the operations room had scarcely rested in a month. The North Sea and Atlantic were crowded with pins, chalk marks and shipping routes that changed almost daily as the naval war evolved.
Reports reaching Oskar had made one thing clear: Germany's raiders were still hurting Britain, but the freedom of the opening weeks was disappearing.
Hundreds of British vessels had been sunk, yet Britain was adapting. Destroyers, patrol ships and old cruisers had been pressed into escort duty, while merchantmen increasingly sailed in convoys rather than alone. German raiders could still challenge them, but every attack now carried greater risk, and capital ships lost at sea could not easily be replaced.
So the Imperial Navy had adapted as well.
At Oskar's suggestion, part of its effort shifted toward Britain's fishing fleets. What had first seemed a secondary measure was beginning to have noticeable effects, and by late August total British losses—merchantmen, fishing boats, auxiliaries and warships alike—were approaching eight hundred vessels.
Even that was not enough.
Britain's merchant marine remained vast, and every passing week made it better prepared for German methods.
Now the British were preparing another answer.
Late on 24 August, Oskar entered the Bendlerblock without ceremony, pushing open the doors with rather more force than intended.
Every head in the operations room turned toward him.
One glance at the Crown Prince was enough to understand that he was not particularly pleased to have been summoned away before enjoying even a proper evening with his family and friends. His immense figure seemed to fill the room as he stepped inside, and several of the assembled admirals instinctively straightened beneath the weight of his presence.
Tirpitz, however, showed no sign of intimidation. Instead, a flicker of genuine relief crossed the old admiral's face before years of discipline quickly brought his expression back under control.
Around him, officers and staff came to attention, fists rising to their hearts.
"Your Highness."
The salute passed through the room almost like a ripple, one man after another pressing a fist against his chest in silent acknowledgement.
Oskar returned the gesture with a small movement of his own hand and stepped fully inside. He had yet to say a word, but already his presence had settled over the room.
"Your Highness," Tirpitz began as he approached, "forgive me for summoning you so soon after your return. I know you have scarcely had time with your family, but the situation—"
Oskar raised a hand, stopping him gently.
"No apology is necessary, Admiral. If you judged the matter important enough to call me here, then I am here." His eyes shifted toward the maps. "Show me what has happened."
Something in Tirpitz eased immediately.
Oskar's gaze moved past him toward the great maps covering the walls—the North Sea, the Atlantic, the shipping routes, the clusters of pins marking patrols, engagements and losses.
Then he approached the central table.
"Now," Oskar said, placing both hands against its edge, "tell me what has changed at sea."
The admirals closed in instinctively around him, gathering over the map.
Tirpitz turned first, though his attention did not immediately settle upon the Atlantic.
"A great deal, Your Highness," he said. "Thus I believe it would be best to begin with the wider situation first."
Oskar inclined his head.
"Go on."
What followed was a brief survey of a war already spreading far beyond Europe.
Japan had entered the conflict, as Oskar had always suspected it might, honouring its alliance with Britain despite everything Germany had done to remove the obvious causes for confrontation in the Pacific. The German island possessions had already been sold to Japan, greatly expanding its reach across Oceania, while Qingdao itself had been returned voluntarily to China. Yet Japanese ambitions had hardly ended there. German commercial interests still remained in Qingdao, and Tokyo had begun pressing the Chinese Republic—together with Britain—to remove what remained of German influence upon the coast.
China had yielded.
Officially, Germany had merely been embargoed while Chinese authorities investigated supposed financial irregularities and the possible wartime misuse of German businesses. In practice, German ships, warehouses, property and commercial interests had been seized or placed beneath temporary state control. Communications had become unreliable, and the few German merchants still able to leave were already attempting to make their way westward through China toward Tibet and whatever safety might still be found beyond.
Oskar disliked the news, but said little. He had hoped China would show more independence after everything Germany had surrendered willingly to the new Republic. Apparently, he had expected too much.
Africa was hardly clearer.
The fall of Togoland had deprived Germany of one of its most important wireless links on the continent, and information now arrived slowly, unevenly and often days out of date. What reports had reached Berlin suggested that Greater German Cameroon remained secure for the moment. Enemy warships had tested its coast and been driven away from Southern Bauxi by the heavy batteries protecting the approaches, but French, British and Belgian forces were almost certainly preparing attacks from the surrounding colonies.
Elsewhere the position was weaker. Germany had invested far less heavily in South-West and East Africa, and no one in the room pretended their survival was guaranteed if significant reinforcements could not eventually reach them.
Tirpitz did not conceal his concern.
Oskar merely studied the map for a moment before shaking his head.
"Have faith, Admiral. We may lose some of them before this is finished, but we will not lose Greater German Cameroon. It was built to endure exactly this sort of war, and I trust the men there to hold until we can help them."
His gaze shifted westward.
"For now, Asia and Africa will have to endure without us."
He placed one hand upon the Atlantic map.
"Speaking of which—how goes the war against Britain? How fares the blockade?"
Tirpitz turned his attention fully to the Atlantic.
"At sea, our campaign continues to hurt them," he said. "Nearly eight hundred enemy vessels have been lost since the war began—merchantmen, fishing boats, auxiliaries and warships alike. But Britain is adapting."
That much had become increasingly obvious.
The two German battlecruiser squadrons roaming the Atlantic, together with the submarines operating ahead of them, had enjoyed enormous freedom during the opening weeks of the war. Isolated merchantmen had been easy prey, while Oskar's quieter campaign against the British fishing fleets had steadily reduced another important source of food without attracting anything like the public attention a formal blockade might have produced.
But easy targets were becoming harder to find.
Neutral shipping, particularly from the United States, carried an increasing share of Britain's needs and remained largely protected by Wilhelm's restrictions upon unrestricted naval warfare. British merchantmen themselves were beginning to move together beneath escort, first with destroyers and cruisers, and increasingly with battleships.
The German raiders had avoided challenging such formations unless circumstances overwhelmingly favoured them. A damaged battlecruiser thousands of kilometres from Germany had no friendly dock waiting nearby, and even victory could become disaster if a crippled ship could not make the long journey home.
For the moment, caution had preserved the fleet.
But caution could not continue forever.
"And now," Tirpitz said, moving his pointer toward Canada, "we believe the British intend to force the matter."
Intelligence suggested that approximately fifty merchant ships were assembling in Canadian waters, carrying grain, metals, ammunition, machinery and virtually everything else Britain needed to sustain the war. Rather than allowing those ships to cross individually, the British intended to send them together beneath a concentrated naval escort.
Four King George V-class battleships were already believed to have been assigned to the convoy, along with light cruisers and destroyers. Other British warships were moving through the Atlantic as well, their purpose less certain.
The Imperial Admiralty suspected an ambush.
If Germany ignored the convoy, Britain would prove that large-scale protected shipping could cross the Atlantic safely and would almost certainly repeat the method. If the German raiders attacked, they might find themselves drawn against not merely the visible escort, but another British force waiting beyond the horizon.
"That," Tirpitz concluded, "is why you were called here."
Oskar studied the map for several moments.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"So Britain wishes to bait us."
Tirpitz's expression remained serious.
"That is our belief."
"Good."
Several men looked at him.
Oskar rested one finger upon the convoy route.
"You see a trap. I see an opportunity."
He looked around the table.
"The attacks upon their merchants and fishing fleets were never merely about sinking ships. We attacked what Britain could not afford to leave undefended. Every vessel we destroyed increased the pressure upon their government, their economy and their people. The more painful this war becomes at home, the sooner Parliament must answer to those expected to endure it."
His hand opened above the map.
"And eventually the Royal Navy had to respond."
Destroyers had come first. Then cruisers. Now battleships were crossing the Atlantic simply to protect cargo.
Exactly as intended.
"When their fleet remains concentrated," Oskar continued, closing his hand into a fist, "it is dangerous. Perhaps our fist is stronger, perhaps theirs is. It does not matter. Striking one fist directly against another costs more than either side should willingly pay."
Then he opened his hand and spread his fingers.
"So we make them open theirs."
His finger moved across the scattered British commitments—the blockade, the Atlantic, Africa, colonial stations and merchant routes.
"They divide themselves because they must protect everything."
Oskar pressed one finger against the map.
"And a finger is easier to break than a fist."
A faint smile returned.
"Especially when our fingers are stronger than theirs."
Understanding spread around the table.
The convoy was not merely fifty merchant ships.
It was a piece of the Royal Navy deliberately separated from the rest.
Oskar reached toward the collection of naval markers and placed another group beside the Atlantic route.
The existing German raiding forces would meet the convoy. The submarines already operating in the Atlantic would support them wherever conditions allowed.
Then he reached for three other markers.
Tirpitz immediately recognised them.
His expression changed.
"The Derfflinger-class?"
For years the three heavy battlecruisers had remained hidden as carefully as Germany could manage, their true capabilities obscured from British intelligence. Their 380-millimetre guns, reinforced armour and powerful machinery represented one of the strongest cards Oskar had deliberately kept from the enemy.
Now he placed them upon the Atlantic.
"It is time."
Tirpitz stared at the markers.
"If we deploy them, Your Highness, the British will know what we have. Whatever advantage their secrecy gives us will be gone."
"Yes."
"And getting them through the blockade will be no small matter," Pohl added. "The North Sea remains mined and watched. Submarines can pass where capital ships cannot."
Oskar nodded, for both objections were perfectly reasonable. But secrecy existed to be spent.
"There will be other surprises," he said. "We do not lose the war merely because Britain learns one of the cards in our hand."
His gaze returned to the convoy.
"And if they truly intend to offer us four modern battleships, perhaps battlecruisers as well, then I can think of few better occasions upon which to reveal it."
The Imperial Admiralty had already compared the forces. Oskar had done the same long before entering the room. Ship for ship, he trusted what Germany had built. The British possessed powerful vessels, certainly, and no engagement at sea was without enormous danger, but the German battlecruisers had been designed with precisely such enemies in mind.
He had helped design and finance them, and had helped shape the doctrine under which they would fight. Now their usefulness had to be proved by the men who commanded them.
"The objective is simple," Oskar said. "The convoy cannot be permitted to establish a precedent. Meet it. Break the escort if the opportunity presents itself, then destroy the merchant fleet behind it."
He looked toward Tirpitz, Pohl and Scheer in turn.
"If the intelligence proves wrong and the British have concentrated something we cannot profitably fight, then withdraw. I will not sacrifice capital ships merely for pride."
Tirpitz nodded.
"But if they have truly divided themselves as we believe?"
Oskar's eyes returned to the British markers.
"Then break the finger."
Silence followed.
Pohl glanced once more toward the blockade.
"And how do you propose we bring the Derfflingers into the Atlantic?"
Oskar looked at him.
Then gave the smallest shrug.
"That, Admiral, is why Germany employs admirals."
For a moment nobody spoke.
Then Tirpitz laughed quietly.
Oskar gestured toward the charts surrounding them.
"You have the minefields, patrol reports, weather forecasts, submarine observations and wireless intelligence. Decide when they sail. Decide how they pass the blockade. Decide where the raiding squadrons meet them and how the engagement is conducted."
His expression became more serious.
"You asked whether I believe the operation worth attempting."
He tapped the Derfflinger markers.
"I do."
That was all the Imperial Admiralty truly required from him.
The details belonged to them.
There remained the question of unrestricted warfare and the neutral shipping that continued feeding Britain, but Oskar promised only to raise the matter with Wilhelm. Germany already had enemies enough without carelessly adding the United States to the list.
For now, this operation would have to suffice.
Tirpitz straightened.
"Then we will begin planning immediately."
"Good."
Oskar stepped away from the table.
"Do with it what you will, gentlemen. You have my approval."
Around him, the admirals were already looking back toward the maps, discussing patrol routes, minefields, fuel, weather and the disposition of the raiding squadrons, exactly as they should.
Oskar had spent years building the weapons now available to them. It was their responsibility to use them. His own responsibilities lay elsewhere.
Karl was waiting, and with him came matters no less important than battleships and convoys—the money, industry and production upon which every battle ultimately depended.
If the Imperial Admiralty was to fight the war at sea, Oskar intended to make certain Germany could continue paying for it.