Chapter 298 Operation Catapult (End)

It's amusing that the British learned about the annihilation of Fleet H through the German radio. According to the plan, Fleet H was supposed to arrive at the entrance of the Orléans harbor at 6:20 AM, give the French a final ultimatum, and wait for five to six hours. The results should not be heard until around three or four in the afternoon. However, at exactly 8 AM, the German radio broadcasted this horrifying news.

The radio initially used extremely sharp words to sarcastically mock the shameless actions of the British who ruthlessly attacked their ally the day before. It then vigorously praised how the German-French alliance had brilliantly thwarted the British conspiracy and achieved a glorious victory. It went on to criticize figures like de Gaulle as traitors colluding with invaders to harm their compatriots, and finally paid the highest respects to the unnamed heroes such as the "dukes," "marquises," "counts," and "viscounts" fighting in the heart of the enemy.

Following this, the Vichy French radio also aired similar content. The French first expressed gratitude for Germany's selfless assistance, saving them from calamity. Subsequently, they strongly protested against the British, condemning them for not only unjustly seizing the ally's ships but also daring to attack their fleet. They demanded the immediate return of seized ships and personnel, along with compensation for various losses. If not, France would not only sever diplomatic relations with the British government but would even consider declaring war. Finally, they harshly criticized de Gaulle, accusing him of leaking the secret of the French fleet's harbor to the British, inviting their attack.

10 Downing Street, UK.

The portly Winston Churchill was anxiously pacing back and forth in his office, frequently glancing at the door every few seconds.

In his impatient wait, the knocking sound finally came from outside. Taking a deep breath, Churchill forced himself to calm down before saying, "Come in!" although his voice still trembled slightly.

Charles Forbes, the First Lord of the Admiralty, walked in with a gloomy expression.

"How is it? Have you made contact with Fleet H?" Churchill didn't wait for the First Lord of the Admiralty to speak, hastily asking. Although his voice sounded calm, there was an ominous premonition surging in his heart. It felt as if a substantial brick were blocking his chest, causing him an indescribable sense of discomfort. He urgently wanted to know the answer.

In fact, Charles Forbes's unsightly expression was enough to reveal everything. Yet, Churchill was reluctant to believe in this dreadful outcome. He even hoped that the usually stern First Lord of the Admiralty would suddenly break into a smiling face, shouting "surprise!" and then tell him that the German broadcasts were all nonsense, Fleet H was safe and sound, returning on its way.

Charles, with his gaze lowered, stared at a corner of the office. His facial expression seemed as if a ferocious beast lurked there. When Churchill could no longer endure and was about to urge him loudly, Charles finally hoarsely spoke, "The Germans did not lie. Our Fleet H is gone."

"Fleet H, is it truly gone?" Finally confirming this dreadful news, Churchill's face turned deathly pale. He staggered back, hitting his desk, and even the cigar he held between his fingers dropped helplessly to the floor.

The might of the British Empire rested on its powerful navy. Now, with their main vessels sinking one after another, and not managing to sink a single enemy capital ship, it was enough to make the British navy collapse. Once the navy crumbled, the doomsday of the British Empire was imminent.

Seeing Churchill's terrifyingly pale face, Charles became nervous and shouted outside the door, "Someone!! Quickly call a doctor, the Prime Minister is unwell!"

"No, I'm fine." Churchill raised a hand with some difficulty, waving it. Now, the fate of the British Empire was in the countdown, and it wasn't the time for him to see a doctor. "I need to convene an emergency meeting to discuss countermeasures."

"But Prime Minister, I think you need to rest for a while." Watching Churchill, who was covered in cold sweat, Charles was genuinely worried that his body might not hold up. If this staunch war leader were to fall, who could take up the responsibility and lead Britain?

"!(England expects that every man will do his duty!)" Churchill gritted his teeth and uttered the famous words of Admiral Horatio Nelson, leaving for the door, leaving behind Charles's admiring gaze.

Soon, a group of high-ranking officials gathered in the conference room.

"Everyone is aware that the British Empire is now facing a real crisis. We can only overcome the Germans if we cooperate sincerely and unite. Feel free to speak your minds."

William Edmund Ironside, the Chief of the Imperial General Staff, said in a cold voice, "I want to know how the Germans learned about our 'Operation Catapult.' The timing and location of the plan were known to them in detail, as if someone delivered a copy of the plan to the German crown prince's desk. Is our intelligence department just eating for nothing? If they're useless, they might as well be on the front lines killing enemies. Even the most wasteful of them could waste some German ammunition!"

The words were already quite harsh, and the face of Lord Louis Mountbatten, the head of the British Military Intelligence Bureau, turned red and black, as if he wished to wipe off his face and hide it in his pocket.

Churchill, with a dark face, took a few puffs of his cigar. Suddenly, he remembered something and asked, "Lord Mountbatten, didn't you report that all the spies placed in Germany were exposed not long ago?"

"Yes." Overnight, regardless of whether they were infiltrated into the German army, government offices, schools, hospitals... even the spies selling vegetables in the market, without exception, were all exposed and thrown into German concentration camps. Their fates remained unknown.

Churchill exhaled a puff of smoke and continued, "I asked you to thoroughly investigate this matter. Many days have passed. Do you have any leads?"

Lord Mountbatten nervously pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and shook his head. "I apologize, Prime Minister. We have tried our best but haven't found a single clue. The Germans' intelligence and counterintelligence capabilities have improved by more than one level since the last war. Up to now, the British intelligence department has not been able to crack the German communication codes."

Churchill said coldly, "It seems that Lord Mountbatten is no longer suitable for intelligence work. From now on, Lord Adam will be in charge of Military Intelligence."

Lord Adam, the Deputy Director of Military Intelligence, looked at Lord Mountbatten, who was secretly relieved, feeling quite frustrated. If his abilities surpassed Lord Mountbatten, why should he stay in the deputy position? He was well aware that Lord Mountbatten wasn't lacking in capability; the problem lay in the complex network of relationships when investigating high-ranking figures, making it impossible to proceed.

He didn't want to get entangled in such a complicated web of personal connections. In times of crisis, extraordinary measures were needed. "Prime Minister, what if someone refuses to cooperate with the investigation?"

Churchill resolutely declared, "Arrest them! Such behavior is treason! Anyone who dares to resist the investigation at this time is the number one suspect. Investigate thoroughly, and I will bear any consequences!"

Lord Adam asked again, "But Prime Minister, what if some suspects involve the royal family?" In disrespectful words, even the royal family couldn't be excluded from suspicion. Some high-ranking officials, including Churchill, knew that until the outbreak of the war, the German Crown Prince and the British royal family had close correspondence.

As for the contents of the letters? Each time, they were personally delivered by the German Ambassador to Buckingham Palace, and few people knew the exact content of the letters.

"..." Churchill fell silent. Although the British royal family often seemed like a mascot, the country nominally belonged to the royal family. Now, when the fate of the country was in question, if His Majesty the King called for action, they might all have to resign.

After a long silence, Churchill spoke again, "If it involves the royal family, you make a list first. I will discuss it with His Majesty the King."

The meeting continued for more than three hours. As it was about to conclude, the Foreign Secretary asked, "Prime Minister, how should we respond to the protest from the Pétain government?"

"Let that puppet government protest. We only recognize the legitimate Free French government led by de Gaulle." Churchill waved his hand wearily, showing signs of giving up. Let them protest; what else could a government of traitors want? How much support could they get from the French people?

However, what Churchill didn't know was that the reports in the French media had caused an uproar in France. The most unacceptable thing for the French was that the Germans, who defeated them, only took away one battleship and a few unfinished warships, allowing the French to keep their navy. A few weeks ago, they fought side by side with their ally, the British, who now seemed ready to exterminate the French.

"The perfidy of the British" quickly became a catchphrase in every corner of France. The infuriated French soldiers even scraped off the word "Alliance" tattooed on their bodies with razor blades. Those who were preparing to go to Britain to join de Gaulle's camp were also cursing de Gaulle, almost making themselves shameful traitors.

Although the determination to resist remained unchanged, even Churchill felt that defeating the mighty Germany seemed hopeless with the power of the British Empire alone. He needed to seek external aid.