SEC Chapter 35 The Frenzied Blast of the 280mm Fortress Coastal Defense Gun
Chapter 35 The Frenzied Blast of the 280mm Fortress Coastal Defense Gun
Wusongkou. Battery No. 2. Underground command room.
The moment Chen Zijun uttered his order, the atmosphere in the entire fortress complex changed.
The system panel flashed silently deep within his mind.
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Current fund pool: £2,837,216
(4 x 280mm armor-piercing rounds loaded, each round costs £538)
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⚔Wusongkou Yonggu Fortress Complex - Combat Status
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
►4 x 280mm Krupp coastal defense cannons [Loaded and ready to fire]
►20 88mm anti-aircraft guns (camouflaged positions) [Concealed and ready for deployment]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
☠When the cannons roar, gold pours in.
Ammunition cost per salvo: £2,152
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Two thousand pounds in a single volley. In these days, that's enough to buy a whole street of mansions.
Chen Zijun didn't even lift his eyelids.
Expensive? You think fighting the Japanese is too expensive?
"Yang Yanzhao!"
"Here!" The voice of Yang Yanzhao, the artillery commander-in-chief, boomed from the microphone, hoarse like sandpaper grinding iron.
"Fire from all four cannons simultaneously. Target: Tianlong. Aim between its bridge and the waterline."
"Yes!"
"Fire."
boom!!!
The four concrete dome fortresses exploded with a roar at the same time.
That wasn't the sound of cannons.
That was the sound of the sky collapsing.
Four orange-red flames erupted from the fortress's firing ports, the muzzle flashes stretching over ten meters long illuminating the entire mudflat as bright as day. The immense recoil caused the sand around the fortress to tremble as if struck by an invisible giant hand.
The lights in the underground command room crackled, and fine dust fell from the concrete cracks overhead.
Shen Li instinctively grabbed the wall for support.
Four armor-piercing shells, each weighing 300 kilograms, detached from the muzzle with an initial velocity of 820 meters per second.
They streaked across the gray river, leaving scorching red trails, like four meteorites falling from the sky, roaring as they hurtled toward the Tianlong light cruiser anchored in the middle of the river.
From firing to hitting the target.
Less than four seconds.
On the Tianlong.
Colonel Kinjiro only reacted after hearing the cannon fire.
But it was too late.
The first armor-piercing shell accurately hit the Tianlong ship two meters above the waterline on its starboard side.
The 280mm caliber bullet, like a red-hot iron spike, pierced straight through the Tianlong's proud 63mm main armor belt. That high-strength steel plate, known as the "Shield of the Empire," was no different from toilet paper in front of the 280mm bullet.
The armor-piercing projectile did not stop after it tore through the armor.
It continued forward, breaking through the first deck, then the second, and finally reaching the ammunition depot next to the keel.
Then the delayed fuse is activated.
explosion.
That was no ordinary explosion.
The midsection of the Tianlong was as if it had been torn apart from the inside by a giant hand. The 3,500-ton steel hull was blasted nearly two meters off the water, and the armor plates in the midsection of the hull were rolled up like pieces of paper. A mushroom-shaped burst of flame shot into the sky from the blasted hole, mixed with twisted steel plate fragments, broken pipes, and black debris of unknown origin.
A second armor-piercing shell followed closely behind, hitting directly below the bridge.
Colonel Kinjiro didn't even have time to scream. The shockwave and temperatures of over a thousand degrees Celsius reduced everything inside the bridge to ashes in a fraction of a second. The brass megaphone, the command platform, the chart table, and even the voice that had been arrogantly shouting "surrender ceremony" just minutes before—all vanished.
gasification.
Not even a bone fragment was left.
The third armor-piercing shell struck the base of the smokestack, triggering a secondary explosion in the engine room boilers. High-pressure steam gushed from the ruptured pipes, scattering the surviving sailors on deck like scarecrows. Some were scalded alive by the steam, collapsing onto the deck curled up like shrimp.
The fourth armor-piercing shell entered from the stern and penetrated the entire aft ammunition magazine.
Psychotic explosion.
This secondary explosion was fatal.
The stern of the Tianlong broke off completely. The massive 3,500-ton vessel bent into a bizarre V-shape on the river, with both its bow and stern pointing upwards, like a wild beast whose spine had been broken by a hunter's shot, emitting a mournful, metallic creaking sound.
Then, it began to sink.
The scorching steel wreckage crashed into the river, sending up plumes of white steam. Black oil and red blood churned on the boiling surface. Surviving sailors struggled and screamed in the water, but were quickly sucked into the massive whirlpools created by the broken hull.
From the first shot fired to the complete sinking of the Tianlong.
Less than ninety seconds.
The two Minekaze-class destroyers were completely dumbfounded.
The captain of the Isokaze watched as his captain was blasted to pieces by four heavy shells right before his eyes, and his face instantly turned ashen.
"Full speed retreat! Full speed—"
He only gave half of his command.
On the mudflats on both sides of the Wusongkou, twenty camouflage nets were simultaneously lifted.
A total of twenty 88mm anti-aircraft guns.
The twin-mounted gun mounts, staggered in formation, created a crossfire network of guns firing from both the north and south banks, effectively blocking the less than 800-meter-wide waterway in the middle of the river.
Yang Yanzhao pressed the communication button in the artillery command post.
"Attention all 88mm gun crews! Horizontal fire! High-explosive shells! Free fire!"
Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!
Twenty 88mm anti-aircraft guns roared simultaneously.
Each cannon fires 15 to 20 rounds per minute. Twenty cannons would fire 300 to 400 88mm high-explosive shells per minute.
The Isokaze was the first to be affected.
Dozens of 88mm high-explosive shells struck its pitifully thin destroyer armor almost simultaneously. How could its small 1,200-ton hull withstand such a saturation attack? The first salvo blew off its bridge, the second salvo penetrated the engine room, and the third salvo directly detonated the torpedo tubes.
Four 533mm torpedoes were ignited and detonated on the deck by high-explosive shells.
The loud noise was felt even in the high-rise buildings of the concession area, ten miles away.
The Isokaze completely disintegrated in a pillar of fire that shot straight into the sky. Its bow flew to a shallow area two hundred meters to the east, while its stern sank to the bottom of the river. The middle section? It evaporated.
The captain of the Urakaze, in a frenzy, ordered the ship to reverse at full speed. The propellers churned the river water white, and the ship trembled as it tried to turn around and escape.
But it only ran less than 300 meters.
The eight 88mm guns on the south bank turned their muzzles and opened fire.
High-explosive shells rained down on the deck and sides of the Urakaze. One shell pierced its boiler room, and another overturned the forward main gun turret. The Urakaze, like a tin boat riddled with holes, was smoking and on fire, and its speed dwindled.
It eventually lost power 400 meters from the edge of the Wusongkou waterway and floated sideways on the burning oil slick.
The last Rising Sun Flag at the stern was engulfed by flames and turned into a twisted mass of ashes.
The cannon fire at Wusongkou stopped completely three minutes later.
All that remained on the river surface were burning remains, billowing black smoke, and the occasional bubbles rising from underwater.
The estuary of the Huangpu River was dyed a deep red.
In the underground command room of Battery No. 2, everyone was silent.
Moranzhi took off her headphones, her voice strained. "Young Marshal, all three ships are destroyed. The Tianlong is sunk, the Isokaze has broken apart, and the Urakaze is ablaze and adrift, showing no signs of life."
Shen Li let out a deep breath. He realized his hands were trembling.
It wasn't fear. It was excitement.
Twenty years have passed. From the First Sino-Japanese War to the Boxer Rebellion, from the Twenty-One Demands to the Fuzhou Massacre, when has the Chinese coastline ever seen such a thorough and satisfying war?
Chen Zijun didn't speak. He walked back to the periscope rangefinder and attached the eyepiece.
Within the circular field of vision, the high-rise buildings of the International Settlement in the distance are clearly visible.
The Bund. Top floor of the Sassoon House.
British Consul General in Shanghai, Barton, held a glass of whiskey and stared intently through the floor-to-ceiling window at the column of black smoke rising from the direction of Wusongkou.
The wine glass in his hand trembled slightly.
Standing next to him was the French Consul in Shanghai, Villeneuve, whose face was as gray as the sky outside the window.
"Three," Bardon murmured. "Three warships. Three minutes."
He put down his wine glass and picked up a pen from the table.
Then I squeezed it hard and broke it.
Ink splattered on the cuff of his £300 custom-made shirt, but he was completely unaware.
"Williams," his voice was extremely hoarse. "Can you imagine what would happen if that kind of artillery fire were used against our Far East Fleet?"
The French consul did not answer.
Because his coffee cup had already fallen to the floor.
In the corner, several compradors from foreign firms didn't dare to breathe. One of them was already kneeling.
Two days ago, he made outrageous remarks at a party, saying that "Chen Zijun is nothing more than a local warlord with a few broken guns."
Now all he wants is to find a place to bury himself.
Wusongkou. South bank fortress complex.
The cannon barrel was still slightly warm. The air was filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder and burning metal.
Chen Zijun walked out of the underground command room and stood on the observation platform at the top of the fortress.
The river breeze, carrying the smell of gunpowder and blood, rushed towards us.
The Huangpu River estuary before us is unrecognizable. Three Japanese warships have become scrap metal on the water and coffins at the bottom of the river. Thick black smoke obscures half the sky.
Shen Li caught up, his face brimming with barely suppressed excitement. "Young Marshal! Total annihilation! A six-thousand-ton formation, in three minutes—"
"knew."
Chen Zijun took out a cigarette from his pocket, struck a match, lit it, and took a deep drag.
There was no laughter.
There wasn't a trace of ecstatic expression on his face.
"Pass down the order." He exhaled a puff of smoke, his voice icy. "No celebrations allowed, no complacency. All units maintain Level One combat readiness."
Shen Li was taken aback. "Young Marshal?"
"What we sank today were just their scouts." Chen Zijun flicked his cigarette ash, his gaze passing over the billowing black smoke and looking towards the endless sea in the east.
"The Japanese have lost face, lost their ship, and lost a colonel. Guess what they'll do?"
Shen Li's expression turned serious.
"They'll send the really big ones."
Chen Zijun nodded.
"Tell all units not to rest. If we defeat the Japanese devils' son, their ruthless grandfather will be coming."
He threw the cigarette butt into the spent cartridge at his feet, then turned and walked back to the underground command room.
Thousands of nautical miles away.
Nagasaki. Naval Ministry Combined Fleet Headquarters.
A top-secret, urgent telegram, stained with tears and ink, was handed to the Supreme Commander's desk by a trembling hand.
The telegram contained only one line:
"The advance squadron has been completely wiped out. The Tenryu has sunk. Colonel Togashi has been killed in action. Requesting reinforcements from the main force."
The commander's face turned a deep purplish-red. He slowly stood up, his teeth grinding together.
"Izumo."
His voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth.
"Give the order immediately. Izumo, prepare to set sail!"
The 10,000-ton armored cruiser Izumo.
The face and pride of the Japanese Imperial Navy.
It is heading towards the estuary of the Huangpu River.