Holy Roman Empire

Chapter 548: Landing Operation



Chapter 548: Landing Operation

The city of Ağva was unrecognizable after the battle. Austria’s bombing was targeted, primarily hitting military facilities and prominent landmarks.

Whatever stood out visually was bombed. In contrast, the less conspicuous civilian areas suffered relatively less damage—most of the buildings were only partially affected rather than completely destroyed.

The fires caused by the bombing were quickly extinguished, but the sound of crying still echoed throughout the city. Order within the city had collapsed, and looters were taking full advantage of the chaos.

Many Ottoman soldiers, who were supposed to maintain order, had joined the looting, revealing the darkest sides of human nature. Tonight, Ağva wept.

If anyone were to keep count, they would have found that more people died in the ensuing chaos than in the actual bombing.

Faced with the chaotic situation, Akyol and his apprentice didn’t dare to leave. Not long ago, a few looters had tried to take advantage of the situation, but Akyol and his apprentice drove them away with a hunting rifle.

The rifle was a prized possession of the blacksmith shop owner, said to be a family heirloom. Whether due to the rush or panic, the rifle had been left behind.

bin İsmailağa asked, “Master, will they come back?”

Knowing the situation well, the hunting rifle, an antique, was more of a scare tactic than a real weapon. In reality, the odds of accidentally injuring themselves with it were as high as injuring an enemy.

Akyol replied uncertainly, “They probably won’t. This is a blacksmith shop, and the officials have already requisitioned it. Besides some iron materials and swords, there’s not much else of value to loot. We still have the gun, and as long as those looters aren’t complete fools, they’ll figure that out soon.”

At a different time, iron and swords would be valuable. But not now—the officials would simply confiscate them. The cold weapons being forged were intended to be handed out to civilians for a last stand when the city fell.

The great Sultan had issued a death order: “If the city stands, we stand. If the city falls, we fall.” How could it be called a “holy war” if they didn’t fight to the bitter end?

Whether the people would fight the enemy to the death was not something the officials were concerned about. If Ağva were lost, the officers of the defending army would be in trouble too.

Everyone was too busy trying to save themselves—who would care whether the people would fight to the end? They would mobilize whoever they could, lure the enemy into the city, and launch attacks. Even if they couldn’t defeat the enemy, they aimed to instill fear.

...

In the Ağva military command, Major General Özgür was troubled by the looming threat above. If they didn’t resolve this issue, with the enemy dropping bombs from the sky, everything below would fall into chaos.

Perhaps some armies could remain unfazed under enemy bombardment, but the Ottoman army wasn’t one of them. During the bombing, there were plenty of ignorant souls crying out “divine punishment” while kneeling and praying to Allah for forgiveness.

“The enemy’s airships are too powerful. Does anyone have any countermeasures?”

After speaking, Özgür turned his expectant gaze toward Saltuş. Airships were first invented by the French nearly 90 years ago, and the technology has evolved several times since.

While rarely seen in the Ottoman Empire, airships were already in use in more developed European nations, with even airship transport companies. Of course, such forward-thinking enterprises often struggled to thrive.

Expecting a group of simpletons who barely knew what an airship was to come up with a solution was unrealistic. Özgür, however, pinned his hopes on Saltuş, the well-educated one.

In this era, there weren’t many students sent abroad from the Ottoman Empire, and many of them, influenced by Western ideas, returned to join revolutionary movements. Honest men like Saltuş were increasingly rare.

“Honest man” was a label Özgür had given Saltuş. If Saltuş had learned even a bit of flattery, he wouldn’t have been assigned to Ağva.

Anyone with some military sense knew that Ağva, near the Bosphorus Strait, could become a frontline at any moment.

This time, the enemies were Russia and Austria, and the Ottoman Empire’s chances of victory were very slim. Even the Ottoman government only hoped to end the war with some dignity.

In what seemed to be a doomed war, officers stationed at the front lines faced not only danger but also the fear of becoming scapegoats after the war.

Otherwise, such a crucial military position as Ağva wouldn’t have had a major general like Özgür in charge. With two divisions under his command, a lieutenant general should have been in charge.

Most of those present were either unsuccessful in the Ottoman military or lacked strong enough connections, which is why they were stationed on the front lines.

After fiddling with his bandaged arm, Saltuş slowly said, “General, this is the first time in military history that airships have been used for actual bombing. No country has effective countermeasures.

However, while studying in France, some classmates considered the potential of airship bombings. It’s very difficult to bring down an airship.

Bullets don’t pack enough power. Unless they hit a critical part, even hitting the airship wouldn’t pose a deadly threat. The best option would be artillery, but unfortunately, artillery doesn’t have a high enough elevation angle for anti-air attacks.

Given the current situation, we cannot effectively retaliate against the enemy. The only thing we can do is harass them with rifle fire, forcing them to fly higher, which would reduce their accuracy.”

This didn’t solve the problem, and Major General Özgür was somewhat disappointed. Rifles had limited range, and most were only lethal within a few hundred meters, meaning that if the enemy bombed from a kilometer up, they would be powerless.

Major General Özgür continued to ask, “Does anyone else have any other ideas?”

A middle-aged officer stood up and said, “General, we can’t attack the enemy airships, but we can at least avoid the bombing, right?

If the enemy is bombing from a thousand meters up, we could build some cover—disguising ourselves as grass or bushes to interfere with their vision. This might reduce casualties.”

Placing grass or a clump of bushes on their heads, this kind of low-tech camouflage had already been used in the military, though primarily for ambushes in field battles rather than for air defense.

Lieutenant Colonel Saltuş disagreed, “That won’t work. In a jungle, it might be effective, but in the port of Ağva, adding strange objects would only provide the enemy with targets!”

The middle-aged officer’s face darkened as he retorted sarcastically, “We won’t know if it works until we try. We can expose some fake targets to lure the enemy’s airships into bombing them. These minor changes aren’t so easy to detect.”

Major General Özgür rubbed his forehead. He was usually happy to see infighting among his subordinates, as it strengthened his authority—but that was in peacetime.

Now, with the enemy potentially attacking at any moment, internal conflicts are terrifying and could lead to disaster if not handled properly.

...

Speed is of the essence in war, and since the decision was made to land in Ağva, there was no time to give the enemy any chance to prepare. On the third day after the bombing, the allied forces were ready for the landing.

On April 18, 1874, under the cover of Austrian airships and warships, 50,000 Russian troops launched a landing operation in Ağva.

The thunderous sound of artillery erupted, and the airships roared overhead. Once again, smoke filled the air over Ağva. The cries of blood and fire seemed to echo the sorrow of the earth.

From the sky, Colonel Jules looked down at the ground through his favorite tool—his binoculars. To him, the thunder of artillery and the explosions were the most beautiful symphony.

The Austrian Airship Bombing Squadron had been established for over ten years, with no shortage of resources, but it lacked any impressive battle record. Every airship soldier carried the heavy burden of proving themselves.

As the only unit directly under the General Staff, the squadron was outside both the army and navy’s command structures. Every year during the military budget fights, they were brought up for discussion.

Over time, calls to disband the airship squadron grew louder within the Austrian military. If not for the support of the emperor, this unit would have already been dissolved.

The lack of achievements and failure to prove their value was the airship squadron’s biggest weakness. The military is a world for the strong, and nothing speaks louder than battle achievements.

With the outbreak of the Second Near East War, the airship unit finally had the opportunity to prove its worth. After the great bombing of Ağva, the Austrian military was left in awe.

For the first time, they realized the threat from above, and the calls to disband the airship squadron vanished overnight. Especially the navy, having witnessed the bombing firsthand, immediately reported to the homeland, requesting anti-aircraft weapons.

Whether or not such weapons existed was irrelevant as weapons development is driven by demand. Once the navy realized the threat from the sky, the weapons factories would naturally begin their development.

As commander of this Airship Bombing Squadron, Colonel Jules had always had a dream—to transform the airship unit into a full-fledged air force, standing alongside both the army and the navy.

It was extremely difficult. Without notable battle achievements, achieving this dream was almost impossible. Both the army and the navy would strongly oppose it, as neither wanted another competitor vying for military funding.

Future wars would require air support, but if the airship unit didn’t make its case, the army and navy would develop their own aviation branches. It was only a matter of time before they realized this. The airship unit’s position in the military would become even more precarious.

This sense of crisis made Colonel Jules pay extra attention to this operation. To gain the support of high-ranking government officials, having a solid track record was more convincing than any argument.

Suddenly, the sound of dense gunfire erupted, and even at several hundred meters in the air, Colonel Jules could hear it. Through his binoculars, he saw a small figure flashing by just a few meters away.

Instantly realizing what was happening, Colonel Jules hurriedly ordered, “Order the fleet to ascend. Raise our altitude to 1,200 meters and begin high-altitude bombing.”

By this point, two airships had already been hit, but luckily the rifles used by the enemy lacked sufficient power. As long as no critical components were hit, the damage wouldn’t be fatal.

As the airship bombing squad ascended, the Ottoman troops below breathed a sigh of relief. In the brief gunfire exchange against the airships, several accidents had already occurred.

There was no way around it—most rifles weren’t designed to fire directly upward. The weapon designers simply hadn’t considered the possibility of threats from the sky.

At an altitude of 1,200 meters, the airships were now beyond the effective range of most breech-loading rifles. From that height, accuracy drastically dropped, and the bullets lost much of their lethality—or simply couldn’t reach the target at all.

The trade-off, however, was that the accuracy of the bombing would also be significantly reduced. Often, it became a matter of luck. For guaranteed accuracy, low-altitude bombing was best.

But with the enemy prepared and firing en masse at the airships, Colonel Jules wasn’t willing to take the risk of a low-altitude attack.

If their luck ran out and a critical hit was made, a single airship could be lost. Such luxury assets were rare, with the entire Austrian army possessing only a few dozen, and Jules couldn’t afford to lose any of them.

Even at high altitudes, their harassment was enough. In the previous bombardment, most of the coastal defense installations had already been destroyed, and they couldn’t be repaired in just 2-3 days.

Now, with airship bombings and naval artillery shelling, how could the Ottoman army, which was being passively pounded, have an easy time?

The extent of casualties was still unknown, but the Russian forces had already begun their beach landings. From his airship, Colonel Jules could see through his binoculars that Russian soldiers, upon landing, were being ambushed by Ottoman troops hidden in bunkers.

Gatling guns emerged from the corners and swept the battlefield, inflicting heavy casualties on the Russians. But this was no problem for the Russians as they quickly set up artillery and launched a counterattack.

From the moment the Russians successfully landed, the outcome of the landing battle was no longer in doubt. It was just a question of how many casualties there would be.

Seeing that the situation was under control, Colonel Jules smiled with satisfaction, “Order the fleet to bomb freely but stay away from the port area. Avoid friendly fire.”

For the overall landing operation, the allied forces had already gained the upper hand, and the outcome seemed certain. But for the Russian soldiers still fighting bitterly below, their troubles were only beginning.

The Ottomans weren’t so easy to defeat. Many hidden fortifications were only now being revealed, causing heavy casualties to the Russians.

The bugle for the assault had sounded, and countless Russian soldiers...


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