At the tail end of the European War, the British government seized the opportunity presented by the Holy Roman Empire being preoccupied elsewhere and captured the French-controlled central and southern peninsulas. Keelung Bay, the main base of the French Far East fleet, also changed hands, becoming a headquarters for the Royal Navy. With this foremost Asian naval port under their control, Singapore, another strategic stronghold, naturally became less critical—at least in theory. The real reason was more practical: Britain had reacted too slowly at the time. Sumatra had been occupied by the Dutch, while the Malay Peninsula had fallen under the control of the Hanover-led German Federation. Britain, embroiled in conflict with France and Austria, had tacitly accepted this reality, as Hanover and the Dutch were staunch allies. No one had anticipated the rapid shifts in the international situation. With a European War reshaping the continent, France fell from prominence while the Holy Roman Empire, reborn from the ashes, achieved unification once more. Naturally, the Malay Peninsula, as a colony of the German Federation, became part of the greater Holy Roman Empire. With the rise of a new continental hegemon and the Dutch pragmatically aligning with it, Singapore, Britain’s once-crucial Far Eastern port, lost much of its strategic value. Although the Strait of Malacca remained under Royal Navy control, both shores were now within enemy spheres of influence. Without loyal allies to support them, Singapore alone could no longer sustain British dominance in the region. Control over the Strait of Malacca suddenly became precarious. By this point, any British regret was too late. Once territory fell into the grasp of the Holy Roman Empire, it was never going to be returned. Seeking to seize Sumatra from Dutch control was likewise not a viable option. With the Holy Roman Empire close at hand, Britain simply had no room to act freely. Misfortune and fortune often go hand in hand. Although Britain’s control over the Strait of Malacca was challenged, it also succeeded in taking French Indochina. This not only eliminated the threat on India’s southeastern flank, but also expanded the colonial empire and increased British influence in Southeast Asia. Whether this amounted to a loss or a gain is difficult to judge in absolute terms. For the colonial administrations, however, it was certainly a gain. Control over Malacca was under pressure, but it remained in British hands, and the addition of the wealthy Indochinese territories provided new resources to exploit. Life for the colonial authorities was bound to become more comfortable. As always, there was a share for everyone. Since colonial officials could profit, the Far East Fleet naturally benefited as well. Admiral Michel, commander of the fleet, lived an exceptionally comfortable life and more than once remarked that choosing a posting in the Far East had been the wisest decision of his career. Unfortunately, good times never last forever. As tensions mounted in Europe, instability spread to Southeast Asia as well. At first, this was not a serious concern. The Far East Fleet was stronger than the Southeast Asian Fleet, and if war broke out, Michel was confident of victory. However, as the European situation continued to shift and Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands successively aligned themselves with the Holy Roman Empire, the balance changed. What had once been an advantage for the Far East Fleet was suddenly reversed. Facing four opponents alone, even the Royal Navy could not hope to prevail easily against such odds. The one consolation for Michel was that Britain still had allies. If the Japanese navy were included, he believed victory was still assured. That hope was shattered by a telegram from London. The government ordered him to look for an opportunity to launch a surprise attack on the Southeast Asian Fleet and annihilate its main forces. From a strategic standpoint, the order was entirely reasonable. Although attacking without a declaration of war ran contrary to the spirit of chivalry, Michel was no knight and had no moral qualms about it. Yet with the situation already so tense, the Southeast Asian Fleet could not possibly be completely unprepared. A surprise attack alone would be difficult enough, let alone achieving total destruction. Deep down, Admiral Michel could not help but complain more than once. If a surprise attack was required, the British government should have said so earlier. Waiting until the situation had already spiraled out of control before issuing the order was absurd. Did they really think the enemy were fools? Fortunately for Michel, he did not know that the British government’s original plan had been even more ambitious: to have the Far East Fleet and the Pacific Fleet strike simultaneously, wiping out both the Holy Roman Empire’s Southeast Asian Fleet and its Central American Fleet in one blow. Had he known that, he would not merely have complained. He would have concluded outright that the plan was impossible to execute. A surprise attack depends on timing and circumstances. It cannot be carried out at any time or in any place. A stroke of bad luck such as heavy fog, violent storms, or the enemy failing to appear in the expected waters at the appointed time would be enough to doom the operation. Thankfully, the Admiralty was not staffed solely by civilian officials. There were still professionals who understood naval realities, and they moved in time to put a stop to this farce. In the end, the orders sent to the Far East Fleet and the Pacific Fleet were revised. They were to look for opportunities to launch surprise attacks and destroy the enemy’s main forces. The task was still extremely difficult, but at least it was now achievable. As long as one side succeeded, or even failed, full-scale war would break out, and the other side would have no choice but to fight openly. Compared with engaging the enemy head-on from the outset, Michel preferred to try his luck. If the surprise attack succeeded, he would become Britain’s greatest hero. There was no alternative. Unless the two major overseas fleets of the Holy Roman Empire were eliminated, the Royal Navy could not concentrate its forces to blockade and engage the Holy Roman Empire’s main fleet. The Mediterranean, that vast inland sea, had two exits. To seal it off and force the Holy Roman fleet into a decisive battle, operations would have to be conducted along both routes at the same time. The Royal Navy was formidable, but once its strength was divided, suppressing the Holy Roman fleet would be far from easy. A misstep could even lead to disaster. The only viable solution was to first cut away the Holy Roman Navy’s wings, destroy its overseas fleets, and only then concentrate forces to contain its home fleet. That, at least, was Michel’s own assessment. In reality, there were other possible approaches, such as blocking the Suez Canal to prevent the Holy Roman fleet from entering the Indian Ocean. Staring at the map on the wall, Michel fell into deep thought. From time to time, he raised a finger to point at different locations, as if searching for the decisive point that could break the deadlock. … Since its opening, the Suez Canal had carried the economic fate of Asia, Europe, and Africa on its shoulders. Every year, tens of thousands of vessels passed through it. The toll revenues alone amounted to tens of millions, making it a true golden waterway. No matter how tense the situation in Europe became, the number of ships entering and leaving the Suez Canal did not decline. It gave off an air of being detached from worldly affairs. Unfortunately, this sense of detachment was nothing more than an illusion. Anyone who looked closely would notice that whether it was the merchants along the banks or the traders coming and going, their expressions were grave. Everyone knew that war was approaching. Once it broke out, the bustling Suez Canal would fall silent almost overnight. At the canal’s inspection checkpoint, a long queue had already formed. As tensions escalated, security procedures at the Suez Canal were tightened yet another notch. As a merchant, Owen naturally loathed the cumbersome inspections. But might makes right. If one wanted to pass through the Suez Canal, there was no choice but to submit. Watching the staff rummage through crates again and again, almost to the point of unloading the cargo and repacking the ship, Owen finally could not take it any longer. “These are just ballast stones,” he protested. “Is it really necessary to take them out one by one for inspection?” This shipment consisted of porcelain and silk from the East, relatively light goods. To keep the ship stable, ballast stones were indispensable. Now even stones had to be inspected. The degree of caution was truly astonishing. The staff member turned around and replied in a very serious tone, “Sorry, Mr. Owen. This is a special period, and we ask for your cooperation. This is not only for the safety of the canal, but also for the protection of your own life and property. You should understand that spies can exploit any gap. If there is even the slightest loophole, they might take advantage of it.” The moment he heard the word “spies,” Owen decisively closed his mouth and stood quietly to one side, waiting for the outcome. As a merchant, the thing Owen feared most was being entangled with spies. Once involved, even with a thousand mouths he would never be able to explain himself. After all, how was he supposed to ask a spy to come forward and prove that he was innocent? Even if a spy were willing to come forward and testify, it would have been useless. No one would have believed it. Even if the evidence were insufficient to secure a conviction, the network of relationships built up over most of a lifetime would still collapse in an instant. More than two hours later, the inspection of all suspicious points on the ship was finally completed. Just as Owen was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he heard someone shout, “Catch the spies. Don’t let them get away!” The orderly scene instantly descended into chaos. Just as the canal police sprang into action, two oil tankers suddenly started their engines and charged at full speed toward the entrance of the waterway. Everything happened too abruptly. Although the canal garrison reacted quickly and immediately brought the coastal guns into action, they only managed to stop one vessel. The other slammed straight into the lock gate. After a deafening crash, the tanker began to sink slowly. Crude oil spilled across the surface of the canal, and a choking stench rushed toward everyone. Staring at the scene before him, Owen’s mouth hung open, at a complete loss for words. In his mind, thoughts surfaced uncontrollably: “We’ve fallen into a trap,” “suicide attackers,” “this is going to be a disastrous loss”… Owen was not the only one shaken. The crew and the captain alike now wore ashen expressions. Although they had witnessed it with their own eyes, no one yet knew the extent of the damage to the canal. Even if it were only superficial damage, reopening the channel would take time. At the very least, the wreckage of the two tankers would have to be salvaged before navigation could possibly resume. If one was unwilling to wait, the only alternative was to detour around the Cape of Good Hope. Sailors in this era were all shrewd people, and they naturally knew which choice to make. With a war for hegemony on the brink of eruption, and fighting already breaking out in southern Africa, going that way now would bring nothing but trouble. The merchants were worried enough, but the expressions on the faces of the canal authority staff were even worse. One by one, they looked utterly stricken. Under such tight security, the enemy had still managed to pull off a successful attack. Someone would certainly have to be held responsible.
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