I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 997: Crossbow Cannons Project

"I call it the 'Crossbow Cannons Plan.'" The Minister of Military Supplies pointed at the map, outlining the battle strategy:

"We have two aircraft carriers, each carrying 25 'S.E.5a' fighter planes."

"Their role is to cooperate with the anti-aircraft fire to take down the French Army's 'torpedo aircraft.'"

"As long as our warships approach Malta Island, our naval guns can blow the French Army's airfield sky-high."

"Then, victory will be ours."

The politicians stared at the map and fell into deep thought, then nodded in agreement in succession.

This seemed to be a feasible combat plan.

To achieve the element of surprise in the campaign, the Minister of Military Supplies suggested the fleet move into the war zone at night for a dawn attack.

"Only this way can we catch the French Army off guard." The Minister of the Navy explained a series of actions while pointing at the map:

"Our battleships should advance to about 150 kilometers from Malta."

"Because it's night, the French military aircraft cannot take off, and this distance is the threshold of their navy's alert area."

"As soon as dawn breaks, the battleships should immediately launch an attack on the enemy navy, tear open their defense circle, and bomb the airfield near Malta's shores."

...

That day, newspapers across England were published particularly early.

Even before the break of dawn, paperboys ran through the streets and alleys shouting:

"Extra, extra, England has decided to declare war on France!"

"The Minister of Military Supplies believes that to achieve peace, we will have to seize control of the Mediterranean."

"This is a 'heartbreaking but necessary decision'!"

The originally dark streets began to light up one by one, people rushed out of their doors to buy newspapers with money in hand, and more and more of them followed, many in only thin pajamas.

Then they exclaimed one after the other:

"God, this is true! What have we done? We've declared war on France!"

"Wasn't France our ally?"

"The British Army seems to be prepared, and this urgent announcement seems to be a prelude to a surprise attack!"

...

Clyron Hotel.

Clemenceau stayed in the room he had reserved as usual, finding it much more comfortable than his villa.

Although the room was smaller, lacked many attendants, and had limited food choices.

But he could constantly feel the eyes of admiration and worship, along with the endless applause.

Clemenceau thoroughly enjoyed this; he received more acclaim in these past few months than in all previous ones combined, by far.

This might just be the joy of following Shire, Clemenceau thought.

Because of this, Clemenceau slept soundly every night and woke up expecting good news each morning.

But this day, he was awakened by a rapid knocking at the door.

Clemenceau impatiently took off his sleep mask, turned over, and got out of bed to open the door, and hurled reprimands at the secretary standing in front of him: "I told you, Toularto, nothing can't wait until daylight..."

"But Prime Minister." The secretary's face was pale: "This matter can't wait, England has declared war on us!"

Clemenceau froze for a moment, thinking he was still dreaming.

Until he took the telegram, turned on the light, and read it several times, he exclaimed in shock: "God, this is true."

The next second, he turned to the secretary and ordered: "Rouse everyone, all the representatives!"

"Yes, Prime Minister."

Soon, the once extraordinarily quiet Clyron Hotel turned into chaos, and in succession, Paris streets saw people getting up once they heard the news.

... 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Meanwhile, 200 kilometers east of Malta Island in the Mediterranean Sea.

The sea was like a mirror, under the dim night sky.

The British aircraft carriers "Hundred-eyed Giant" and "Furious" prepared for battle, under the 'protection' of dozens of destroyers, closing in on Malta Island.

They gently swayed in the sea waves, seemingly waiting for something.

On the aircraft carrier's deck, rows of fighter planes lined up on both sides and one sat in the middle of the runway, with a pilot in place.

Ground crew performed the final checks on the aircraft.

The dim eastern horizon gradually brightened, the sun emerged from the sea with fiery radiance bit by bit.

Points of golden light sprinkled onto the aircraft cockpit, illuminating the pilots' faces, appearing pale from tension.

At the aircraft carrier command center, the captain glanced at the increasingly bright sky, pulled out a pocket watch, and expressionlessly gave the order: "Launch!"

The engines roared instantly, as fighter planes were launched into the sky under the direction of ground crew, then flew towards Malta Island.

Colonel Will was the leader of this flight squadron.

He received orders to protect the battleships.

He had protested to his superiors more than once:

"We can't protect the battleships, sir."

"Because our speed is too fast while the battleship is like a snail."

"To protect them, we would only circle around them, unable to leverage our fighter planes' speed advantage."

But his superiors unhesitatingly rejected his suggestion:

"This is your mission."

"Remember, you are to ensure the battleships' safety, and they will use their naval guns to destroy the enemy airfield."

"So, you should take down every approaching 'torpedo aircraft,' even if it means ramming them, understood?"

Colonel Will reluctantly responded: "Yes, sir!"

Upon reaching the fleet's airspace, the third squadron was already engaging with the French fleet.

The British fleet had dispatched a total of 7 battleships and over 30 cruisers and destroyers.

The French fleet was far weaker, with only two battleships fighting while retreating, most others were torpedo boats.

Cannon fire thundered, the sea surface peppered with skyward waves created by explosions, leaving white trails on the once calm surface.

Colonel Will knew those were the new French torpedoes capable of turning targets in water.

Thus, the French Navy was not at a disadvantage at all.

Two British cruisers and one destroyer were hit by torpedoes, billowing smoke as they slowly sank beneath the sea.

"What's going on?" Colonel Will gasped in surprise: "Our navy can't break through the enemy's defenses?"

Just then, small dark dots appeared in the distant sky.

A wingman nervously gestured to warn Colonel Will, who nodded before leading the squadron to climb higher.

"The target is 'torpedo aircraft.'" He mumbled to himself: "As long as we can strike it down, the battleships will be safe."

Suddenly, Colonel Will realized this was a trap set for the French military.

The British battleships weren't unable to breach the enemy's defenses, but were deliberately luring enemy aircraft.

Because...

This location is about 150 kilometers from Malta Island.

The French aircraft have a range of over 400 kilometers; if they engage in prolonged aerial combat, they won't have enough fuel to return.

"They've finally gotten smart for once." Colonel Will thought.

Thus, the French 'torpedo aircraft' will become our targets!