As an old established global hegemon, Britain’s arrogance had long been cultivated over the past century. After receiving the Holy Roman government’s final ultimatum, British members of Parliament, feeling that their national dignity had been challenged, showed rare efficiency. In the span of a single afternoon, they reached a decision. Following parliamentary consensus, on the evening of December 26, 1904, Edward VII issued a nationwide war mobilization order and formally declared war on the Holy Roman Empire. Seizing the initiative in declaring war may have contained an element of spite, but it was driven more by political necessity. The method may have been somewhat crude, but as long as it was effective, that was sufficient. The pride of the British people did not mean that the allies shouting alongside them were equally fearless. In fact, had it not been for the British government’s skillful mix of coaxing and deception to push various countries onto the war chariot, few would have been willing to get involved at all. Since the end of the European War, armies around the world that had once modeled themselves on the French army gradually shifted their focus to studying the Holy Roman Empire’s army. Whether they truly grasped its essence was another matter, but the empire’s influence undeniably spread outward. For immigrant nations in the Americas that were familiar with the Holy Roman Empire’s history, the ideological impact was even greater. Only the ignorant are truly fearless. Sometimes knowing too much is not necessarily a good thing. At least for Britain, it was certainly not beneficial for its allies to know too much. At the beginning, Britain had told everyone that they would be facing only the Holy Roman Empire alone, with no involvement from the rest of continental Europe. To bolster confidence, the British government repeatedly assured its partners that multiple European countries would join the anti–Holy Roman alliance, such as the Russian Empire, France, Portugal, and the Netherlands, and even German princes. From a logical standpoint, there was nothing wrong with this narrative. One mountain cannot contain two tigers, and the European continent could not accommodate two dominant land powers. When questions of strategic space and continental hegemony were involved, it was reasonable to believe that Russia and Austria would eventually fall out. France and the Holy Roman Empire were long standing enemies. For several centuries, European history had largely been a chronicle of rivalry between the two. In recent years, France had also suffered a heavy blow at the hands of the empire. With old grudges compounded by new ones, it would have been far stranger if the French did not seek revenge. Portugal, the Netherlands, and similar countries were all Britain’s staunch followers. Although they also maintained fairly good relations with the Holy Roman Empire, everyone trusted John Bull’s diplomatic skills. Unfortunately, plans never keep pace with reality. The allies that had been counted on became enemies, and the balance of power between the two sides shifted accordingly. The more everyone understood the situation, the less confident they felt. When the lesser allies grew uneasy, the leader had to find ways to stabilize morale. Otherwise, once people lost confidence, the team would inevitably fall apart. After mentally piecing everything together, Franz finally felt reassured. He was not afraid of an overreaction from the British, but rather of no reaction at all. At its peak, the British Empire had been extraordinarily powerful. This strength was not limited to overall national power, but also extended to diplomacy, culture, and a whole range of soft power. In terms of hard power, the Holy Roman Empire had already surpassed Britain. Otherwise, it would never have initiated this challenge. Soft power, however, was much harder to quantify. Although the Holy Roman government had performed well in this area, it did not dare claim that it had surpassed the British. The core problem lay in the sheer absurdity of reality. At times, reality was even more fantastical than fiction, and many things simply could not be judged by common sense. When facing an opponent skilled at manipulating politics and public sentiment, Franz had never dared to lower his guard. The facts soon proved that he might have been overthinking it. No matter how formidable Britain’s diplomatic skills were, they still had their limits. With a great weight lifted from his mind, Franz continued writing, drafting the “Proclamation to the People of the British Isles.” As for the declaration of war, the date agreed upon was the 27th, and it would remain the 27th. No matter what, he could not allow the British to dictate the tempo. … Late at night, the editorial office of the Southeast Asia Daily was still brightly lit. The editor-in-chief, Lauren Cromwell, yawned and casually stood up to make himself a cup of instant coffee. There was no helping it. Journalists had never distinguished between day and night, and for an editor-in-chief, night shifts were far more frequent than day shifts. News demanded timeliness. In order to ensure that newspapers could be delivered to every subscriber the next morning, printing could only take place in the middle of the night. “The war has begun! Quickly, Mr. Lauren, hurry up and reorganize the layout. We must be the first to publish it!” The excited, trembling voice drew everyone’s attention in the editorial room. “Mr. Steve, calm down,” Lauren said. “We all know the war has begun. This time the government will not back down, and the British will never accept our terms. War is inevitable. This is the newspaper proof we just printed. We already made our projections in advance, and I believe there will not be any major discrepancies.” Lauren had always thought highly of the young man in front of him, but Steve’s current behavior left him deeply disappointed. The fighting in the colonies had already started. Today, the government had issued a 24 hour ultimatum to the British. There was simply no possibility of reconciliation. Judging by the timing alone, it was obvious that war would break out tomorrow. Moreover, the Holy Roman government had released signals long ago, and the newspapers had even reported on them, albeit in different terms. After taking a breath, Steve hurriedly explained, “It’s different, Mr. Lauren. Just now, the British government declared war on us. The outbreak of full-scale war has been brought forward.” At this news, everyone’s expression changed instantly. Fortunately, the information arrived in time and the newspapers had not yet been distributed. Otherwise, it would have been a serious incident. For political news, accuracy was paramount. Once published information failed to match reality, it constituted a major error. Not only would it damage credibility, it might even prompt reader complaints and an investigation by the Information Bureau. Do not think that being in the colonies made any difference. The Holy Roman Empire’s press regulations applied uniformly across the entire empire. Of course, making a mistake about the exact timing of a war’s outbreak did not amount to a crime. At most, it could be considered a lack of rigor. Hearing this, before Steve could continue, Lauren stepped forward, took the telegram from him, and read it carefully. A moment later, Lauren asked solemnly, “Have you verified this with the homeland? Are we certain that on the 26th only the British declared war, and that we have not…” Steve said, “Rest assured, Mr. Lauren. When this telegram arrived, it was already past midnight. Even if there are further developments, they would fall on the 27th.” After a brief pause, Lauren finally let out a sigh of relief. Matters like this allowed no margin for error. Any small oversight could leave a permanent stain on one’s professional career. “Well done, Steve. Fortunately, you came in time. Otherwise, we would have been in serious trouble. Have the editorial team revise the text and redo the layout immediately. We need a new draft as soon as possible. This time, we must make a real splash. I have a strong feeling that newspaper sales are about to surge. I cannot promise promotions, but your bonuses will certainly rise along with circulation.” This was said in complete sincerity. If they had been even one hour later, printing would already have begun. To ensure that major news was not missed, there were only two options: halt production and redo the layout, or add a special insert. On the surface, adding an insert seemed simpler and could even bring in extra revenue, but in practice it was not so straightforward. As the times had changed, competition had intensified across all industries, and newspapers were no exception. On Sulawesi Island alone, there were more than thirty newspapers of varying sizes. Survival was anything but easy. The era of crude, one way news delivery had long since passed. Modern journalism requires not only providing information, but also delivering proper service to readers. Under such circumstances, special inserts demanded careful handling. They needed not only sufficient news content, but also fresh and insightful analysis that could truly engage readers. In just a few hours, the newspapers would have to go out. Once printing time was deducted, the window left to the editorial team was even narrower. Producing a special insert that readers would actually be willing to pay for, within such a short time frame, was virtually impossible. Similar situations had occurred before. To avoid missing major news, the usual choice was to scrap the already printed papers, redo the layout, and print again. Given the limitations of contemporary productivity, printing costs were far from low. Every time the process had to be restarted, the resulting losses placed real pressure on a newspaper. Under these circumstances, journalists had a love hate relationship with sudden, major breaking news. … At the headquarters of the Holy Roman Empire’s Southeast Asian Fleet, Fleet Commander Admiral Alister received the news even earlier than the newspapers did. Now that full-scale war had officially broken out, confrontation with the Royal Navy had likewise entered a new phase. Before the outbreak of total war, the objective had been to seek an opportunity for a surprise attack and annihilate the enemy’s main fleet in one decisive blow. That kind of selectivity was no longer possible. From now on, even small targets could not be ignored. As for surprise attacks, there was no longer any point in thinking about them for the time being. The advent of aircraft had already transformed the nature of warfare. When the enemy was on full alert, slipping past reconnaissance aircraft and patrol vessels was simply impossible. Unless one was reckless enough to risk disorientation and running aground by sailing through the night and charging straight to the enemy’s doorstep, launching a surprise attack was nothing more than a fantasy. It was fine to think about it in theory, but Alister had no intention of gambling the Southeast Asian Fleet on such a negligible chance of success. He raised his baton and indicated the map on the wall and said, “This is Cam Ranh Bay, one of the finest harbors in all of Asia and the main base of our opponent, the British Royal Navy’s Far Eastern Fleet. Thanks to the efforts of our intelligence personnel, we have obtained a general understanding of the situation at Cam Ranh Bay. Frankly speaking, it is far from encouraging. Perhaps because the reputation of the Imperial Air Force has frightened them, the British are now placing great emphasis on air defense. At Cam Ranh Bay, the British have deployed two air regiments and three air defense regiments. The exact equipment remains unclear, but there are roughly eighty aircraft, at least fifty anti-aircraft guns, and a number of anti-aircraft machine guns. These are only the assets that can be detected openly. Whether there are hidden deployments remains unknown. Although the performance of these weapons is not particularly impressive, they still pose a significant threat to aircraft conducting low-altitude bombing. Under normal circumstances, this would not be a serious problem. As long as the results were substantial enough, accepting a certain level of losses would be worthwhile. However, the current situation is different. The Suez Canal has been cut off, and for at least the next six months, obtaining reinforcements from the homeland will be extremely difficult. Our aircraft are now irreplaceable. Every loss permanently reduces our strength. The carrier battle group has barely over three hundred aircraft in total, including both operational and reserve units. At first glance, our numbers may seem superior, but most carrier-based aircraft are bombers. The number of true fighter aircraft is very limited. Once fighting begins, British air forces stationed in the surrounding regions will inevitably provide reinforcements. Whether it is worth trading our precious carrier aircraft for enemy planes is something we must now reassess carefully.” Reality was this cruel. No matter how advanced the performance of carrier-based aircraft might be, bombers were still bombers. When they encountered purpose-built fighters, they were at a clear disadvantage. Coupled with the enemy’s dense anti-aircraft fire, Cam Ranh Bay was unmistakably a death trap. If a surprise attack failed and turned into a frontal assault, whether the carrier battle group could withstand the losses was still an open question. If casualties were severe, then after a single major operation, the carrier battle group that the Holy Roman government had built at enormous expense would be effectively crippled. These assets were meant to fight enemy warships, not to engage in prolonged air combat. If it truly came down to aerial duels, that was the responsibility of the air force, not the navy. Chief of Staff Ebert Guepustra said, “Admiral, the task assigned to us by the homeland is sabotage, to reduce as much as possible the flow of supplies from the Far East to the British Isles. Compared with our vast empire, the British Isles are simply too small. Once cut off from external resources, their war potential will decline immediately. Under these circumstances, it is the British who should be eager to seek a decisive battle. If we block the Strait of Malacca, our mission will already be half accomplished. As for how to deal with the Royal Navy’s Far Eastern Fleet, that is not something that can be resolved in a day or two. As long as we stabilize the situation, opportunities will eventually present themselves.” Conservative and rigid? No. This was rational. War served politics. If the Holy Roman Empire wished to win this war, the first priority was to sever the supply lines to the British Isles. Once this strategic objective was achieved, the outcomes of other local battlefields would, on the whole, be of secondary importance. Everything served the larger war effort. There was no cowardice involved, only adherence to sound judgment. Rear Admiral Davidson added, “Chief of Staff, you are absolutely right. It is the British who are anxious for a decisive battle. If they hesitate to act, we will seize Singapore first and lock down the Strait of Malacca. At the same time, commerce raiding must be launched as quickly as possible. The colonies spread across Southeast Asia are our greatest advantage. Once we fully exploit this advantage, it will no longer be easy for the British to transport resources from the Far East to the British Isles. If the situation develops in that direction, the British Far Eastern Fleet will have no choice but to come out and fight us in order to keep their supply routes open.” The distinction between passivity and initiative was crucial. It did not only determine who held the strategic initiative, but also influenced the choice of the decisive battlefield. Fighting near one’s own doorstep was always preferable to mounting an expedition to fight at the enemy’s door. With a bit of luck, even the air force could join in the action.
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