Chapter 50: My Own Way

At the insistence of Feng Chengqian and Schlieffen, the German Emperor finally agreed to establish a national strategic reserves mechanism.

However, Caprivi remained adamantly opposed, arguing that it was unnecessary to spend vast sums during peacetime on supplies that would not even be used, not to mention the ongoing costs of their storage. The ultimate result was that, in June, Caprivi submitted his resignation to the Emperor, who accepted it without hesitation, subsequently appointing Bernhard von Bülow as Imperial Chancellor.

Caprivi’s opposition to the creation of the strategic reserves was merely the immediate cause of his resignation.

During the handling of the Moroccan Crisis, Caprivi's stance had been rather weak, and he had failed to fully implement the Emperor's directives in diplomatic negotiations. The Emperor had long entertained the idea of dismissing him, but lacked an appropriate pretext. Now, with the help of the military, Caprivi was finally compelled to step down.

The problem, however, was that Bülow was not the best choice at the time.

In terms of seniority and ability, Hohenlohe would have been more suitable for the position of Chancellor. The Emperor did not choose him mainly because Bülow was more amenable to carrying out his will.

Even so, the Emperor had his own reservations regarding the establishment of the strategic reserves mechanism.

It was not that the Emperor distrusted Feng Chengqian, but rather that the empire’s resources were severely limited and its economic situation far from ideal; it was simply impossible to immediately raise enough funds to procure strategic supplies. According to the Emperor’s directive, the Imperial Navy and Army were to each establish their own strategic reserve systems according to their respective needs. The Navy would receive a special allocation of 800 million Marks in 1905, and the Army would be granted 3.2 billion Marks.

Since these were military strategic reserves, all decisions would be made independently by the military.

For Feng Chengqian, this was already sufficient.

At the end of 1904, Feng Chengqian submitted his strategic reserves plan to the Emperor, placing petroleum at the top of the list, followed by rubber, non-ferrous metals, cotton textiles, nitric acid, and other chemical products. According to his plan, over the next ten years, the Imperial Navy would systematically and in batches procure these supplies, establishing storage bases near naval ports such as Wilhelmshaven and Kiel. If the plan was carried out, the Navy’s reserves of petroleum in ten years would be enough for forty capital ships to make ten fully loaded sorties each, and for 280 support warships to make twenty sorties each—enough, counting wartime production, to sustain five years of operations.

At last, Feng Chengqian could, with a clear conscience, employ oil-fired boilers on the capital ships.

At the beginning of 1905, Feng Chengqian approved the construction plans for the Heligoland-class battleships and canceled the order for a second ship of the Posen class.

Thus, of the eight battleships planned in Feng Chengqian’s five-year shipbuilding program submitted in 1902, only four were actually built: Nassau, Westfalen, Rheinland, and Posen. Although these four ships belonged to three different classes, their differences were slight; often, all four were grouped together as one class, with the latter two seen as improved versions of the Nassau class.

The planned Heligoland class would be an entirely new type of warship.

Compared with the Nassau class, the most significant change in the Heligoland class lay in its power plant: oil-fired boilers and steam turbines were adopted, saving about 1,000 tons in displacement. The main engines delivered 32,000 shaft horsepower, enabling a top speed of 20 knots at a full-load displacement of 27,000 tons, and 21.5 knots at standard displacement—nearly two knots faster than the Nassau class.

Visually, the greatest change was in turret arrangement. During the design phase, it was decided that the Heligoland class would be equipped with 350mm main guns, mounted fore and aft in two twin turrets along the centerline. However, at the start of construction, the 45-caliber 350mm naval gun had not been successfully developed, and intelligence suggested that Britain was working on a 15-inch gun. Thus, even if the 350mm gun were completed, it risked becoming obsolete. As a result, the first two Heligoland-class ships were redesigned during construction to use 50-caliber 300mm naval guns. Due to funding and production constraints, both ships carried four twin turrets instead of the planned triple turrets. It was only with the latter two ships, Thuringia and Oldenburg, that triple turrets were mounted. Fortunately, the Heligoland class had been designed with margin for improvement, and in later upgrades, all ships replaced their 300mm guns with twin 380mm naval guns, boosting main battery firepower by 50 to 100 percent.

The Heligoland class was also the first battleship class in the Imperial Navy to be planned as a four-ship series from the outset.

Moreover, the Heligoland class boasted many other firsts.

Although its construction and service entry came later than the Royal Navy’s Dreadnought and even slightly after the lead ship of the Bellerophon class—thus failing to be the first turbine-powered battleship—it was pioneering in its use of oil-fired boilers, making it the first battleship to adopt the new power system.

It can be said that the Heligoland class was the first to surpass contemporary British warships in terms of propulsion.

Curiously, after the design was finalized, many naval officers continued to voice objections, and many of their arguments appeared reasonable.

For instance, oil-fired boilers were said to reduce a battleship’s defensive capability.

On coal-fired ships, the coal bunkers were generally placed behind the main armored belt, providing extra protection for critical areas—especially boiler and engine rooms. On oil-fired ships, however, the fuel tanks could not be placed behind the main armor, nor could fuel oil offer additional protection. Therefore, some admirals believed that oil-fired boilers would lower a battleship’s overall survivability.

To this, Feng Chengqian rarely bothered to argue.

Experience would show that the slight extra protection provided by coal bunkers was no match for the benefits of the new, lighter power systems, as the weight savings could be allocated to enhance armor protection, thereby increasing a battleship’s overall survivability.

Of course, the Heligoland class was not without its flaws.

Aside from having failed to employ the 350mm guns during construction, and the first two ships using twin turrets instead of triples, the most prominent drawback was the severe deficiency in horizontal protection: key areas had less than 50mm of deck armor—sufficient only against shell fragments—while secondary areas had no horizontal protection at all. Although Feng Chengqian was aware of the importance of strengthening deck armor—since future naval battles would be fought at longer ranges, with steeper shell trajectories, making thick horizontal armor critical to resisting plunging fire—in the early twentieth century, fire control systems were still inadequate, limiting engagement ranges. Strict budget controls further capped displacement, and after ensuring a thick belt, it was hard to bolster deck protection, leaving that hope to later improvements.

The greatest impact of the Heligoland class was felt by the Royal Navy.

Because of the economic downturn, after approving the construction of HMS Dreadnought, the British Parliament had only sanctioned the building of a single Bellerophon-class battleship, saving some £150 million in government spending. When news arrived that the German Empire had approved construction of four Heligoland-class battleships at once, and intended to build ten battleships by 1908, Britain’s famously frugal parliamentarians finally woke up. In early 1904, they added two more Bellerophon-class ships, and authorized the Royal Navy to design four capital ships in 1905, to be laid down by 1907. These four ships would become the three St. Vincent-class battleships and the famed battlecruiser Invincible.

The principle was simple: the Royal Navy’s capital ship strength must be twice that of the German Empire.

The question was, could such a policy be sustained?

With funding for the second pair of Heligoland-class ships secured in 1905, Feng Chengqian set about planning the next generation of battleships, as well as the Imperial Navy’s first true battlecruiser, methodically implementing the five-year shipbuilding plan.

Fundamentally, Feng Chengqian had little intention of building battlecruisers.

Strictly speaking, the battlecruiser was a product of the Royal Navy’s need to maintain global sea power; its main value was defeating hostile heavy cruisers on distant trade routes and protecting strategic lines of communication. Clearly, the German Empire had no such need, lacking significant overseas trade routes to defend. Even if it had them, without first winning command of the sea, the navy’s cruisers could do little. Thus, from a strategic standpoint, the Imperial Navy had no reason to build battlecruisers that were even more expensive than battleships.

The trouble was, battlecruisers could be used not only for fighting armored cruisers on the high seas, but also for forward reconnaissance.

At the time, the main proponent of building battlecruisers was Crown Prince Wilhelm, who oversaw the naval budget.

Ironically, the Crown Prince did not truly understand the value of battlecruisers; he merely reasoned that if the Royal Navy was building these heavily armed, fast ships, why shouldn’t the Imperial Navy do the same?

With the Crown Prince insistent, Feng Chengqian could hardly object.

Consequently, of the two capital ships planned for construction in 1906, only one would be a battleship, and the 1907 shipbuilding program would also have to be altered.

Of course, this was not the most important event of 1905.

In April, while Feng Chengqian was still pondering how to report to the Crown Prince, a telegram arrived from Vice Admiral Tirpitz in the Far East, shattering his peace.

Long-standing tensions between Japan and Russia had finally erupted into open conflict.