Faster Than Any Enemy!

The moment those words left Smith's mouth, even King William, who was typically solemn and reserved in public, couldn't help but catch the sarcastic undertone—

—A cargo ship sold to slaveowners in slave states, yet ironically named Freedom. Could there be anything more absurd in this world?

Perhaps because the irony was so palpable, both King William and Frederick savored the bitter taste of the statement for a moment. After a brief pause, King William, still lingering in thought, reopened the conversation:

"That's quite an interesting suggestion. I think I should call Schubert here…"

Smith knew of this man named Schubert. He was one of the Hohenzollern family's agents in the industrial sector, primarily overseeing engineering machinery and shipbuilding. Smith recalled seeing him once at a birthday banquet—an impeccably dressed middle-aged man with a full head of silver hair and a professional, almost insincere smile permanently fixed on his face. He wasn't someone you'd want to have a heartfelt conversation with, but when it came to managing family businesses, he was certainly a reliable choice.

King William's words were more of a decision than a suggestion. As he spoke, he rang a bell to summon a servant who had been waiting outside the door. Within seconds, the servant took his orders and departed.

"To save time, I think we can continue this discussion for now," King William said, turning back to Smith just as the door clicked shut. "Tell me about this Freedom Ship. What kind of vessel is it?"

With a wave of his hand, King William gestured to Frederick, who immediately understood. He moved swiftly to the table, grabbed a piece of notepaper and a pencil, and prepared to take notes. The scene was no different from that of a subordinate officer diligently recording orders from a superior; in fact, in terms of rank and command structure, Frederick was under King William's authority.

Watching this unfold, Smith couldn't help but silently complain to himself:

"This really is a militaristic nation. The king's family practically functions like an army. Growing up in an environment like this, it'd be a miracle if anyone turned out psychologically normal…"

With that sarcastic thought, Smith gave a moment of silent tribute to Kaiser Wilhelm II in his mind. At the same time, he gained a deeper understanding of militarism—

—It wasn't just an ideology or a philosophy; it was a way of life. Once someone was immersed in it, it was nearly impossible not to be influenced by it.

This realization made Smith a little wary, but now wasn't the time for introspection. He had other matters to attend to.

"I wouldn't dare claim to fully understand modern naval strategy and tactics, so what I'm about to share is just my current understanding," Smith began cautiously, using this statement as a preface to the new topic.

His humility wasn't feigned. Even before his time-travel, Smith had been, at best, a casual military enthusiast. His knowledge stopped at recognizing that not every tracked vehicle with a turret was a tank, and he knew the difference between self-propelled artillery and infantry fighting vehicles. He could distinguish a Colt 1911 from a Browning Hi-Power and wouldn't mistake every handgun for a Chinese Type 54. When it came to ships, he could roughly identify their era and classify them as frigates, destroyers, or the nearly extinct battleships. He certainly wouldn't make the amateur mistake of mistaking the Yamato for the Amethyst in a historical reenactment.

But that was the extent of his expertise. When it came to advanced strategies, tactics, or technical specifics, Smith was practically clueless—something he was honest enough to admit.

That said, Smith wasn't completely ignorant, thanks to the wealth of military materials left to him by "Smiling Willi." As a semi-professional naval enthusiast and a competent army officer, "Smiling Willi's" records were detailed, systematic, and meticulously curated, holding immense reference value. Since his arrival in this era, Smith had spent considerable time studying these materials, giving him at least a basic understanding of naval affairs in the 1860s. This was the foundation of his confidence in proposing the Freedom Ship plan.

"As far as I know, while the navies of the world's major powers have entered the steam age, their naval strategies and tactics don't seem to have fundamentally changed from the age of sail. Based on the materials I've studied, the U.S. Navy is no exception," Smith said calmly. The words, spoken in his still-youthful voice, created a strange contrast with their serious content.

"From what I can tell, the U.S. Navy cannot be considered a powerful naval force. Sail-only warships still make up the majority of their fleet. The few steam-powered ships they possess are limited in tonnage, suffer from underperforming engines, and are plagued by shortages of spare parts and coal. As a result, they are often forced to rely on sails for propulsion. Technically speaking, the U.S. Navy lacks the conditions to break free from the strategies and tactics of the sail era."

Smith wasn't making this up. It was a conclusion drawn from both "Smiling Willi's" records and contemporary news of the time.

Historically, the U.S. Congress had viewed not only a standing army but also its navy as a potential threat. For years, Congress had restricted naval funding for various reasons, making it just as difficult for the navy to modernize as it was for the army.

Despite Robert Fulton—the inventor of the steamship—being an American, the U.S. Navy lagged behind Europe, particularly Britain, in adopting and utilizing steam-powered warships. This was evident not only in the small number and poor performance of their steam vessels but also in their operational challenges.

By the 1860s, steam propulsion had been around for roughly half a century, but as an emerging technology, it remained imperfect. As a result, sails were still retained on most steam-powered warships, allowing them to operate even without steam engines.

Congress took full advantage of this fact. On more than one occasion, they used it as an excuse to slash funding for naval coal supplies. In the most desperate times, naval captains were forced to pay for their ships' coal out of their own pockets—

—With a navy like that, what difference did steam engines even make?

As a typical army officer, King William was unfamiliar with naval affairs. Much of what Smith described was new to him, and while he was surprised, it also made him view Smith with newfound respect.

But then Smith continued:

"At the moment, the civil war between the North and South has actually caused even the not-so-powerful United States Navy to split. Even though the fleet loyal to the Union is much stronger than the one loyal to the Confederacy, the absolute power of the Union fleet is still not what it used to be. This is an important situation.

The Navy is different from the Army. The Army can usually form a new division in just a few months. However, for a new warship, from the moment the order is given to the start of construction, then to its completion and sea trials, and finally joining the fleet to form combat power, it could take a year and a half or even two years. This means the Navy cannot expand as quickly as the Army. In other words, if the Northern fleet wants to significantly expand its power, the earliest it can do so is 1863, and before that, it will face a shortage of strength. Requisitioning merchant ships and converting them into warships can partially alleviate the problem, but it cannot fundamentally solve it.

On the other hand, if the Union fleet wants to blockade the Southern coastline, it will have to rely on the close blockade tactics most commonly used in the age of sailing warships. The Union fleet must be divided into small squads, scattered across the Southern ports. Given the circumstances we discussed earlier, these squads will inevitably be weaker, often consisting of just one or two regular warships and several armed merchant ships. The number of ships equipped with steam engines will be even smaller. According to the experience of the sailing warship era, such small forces will have great difficulty completing the blockade mission."

King William listened quietly to Smith's speech, instinctively feeling that Smith's points were reasonable, and nodded frequently in agreement:

"Mm... So, the 'Freedom Wheel' we are designing is meant to counter such blockades, right?"

"Yes," Smith replied, picking up the conversation:

"Of course, as the war progresses, the Northern fleet will be able to strengthen its blocking forces, with a significantly increased proportion of steam-powered warships. It's even possible that an entirely steam-powered blockade fleet could be formed. For this, we need to consider this in the design of the 'Freedom Wheel'!"

"That makes sense!" King William agreed:

"So, what technical features do you think this ship should have?"

"Speed should be the top priority," Smith said:

"Someone once read to me the United States Navy's ship yearbook. Their steam warships usually only reach speeds of 11 or 12 knots. This speed is not considered slow for steamships, but now, with the clipper-type sailing merchant ships reaching speeds of 17-18 knots, this speed might no longer be sufficient. However, if we set the 'Freedom Wheel's' speed at 17-18 knots, it still wouldn't be enough because the U.S. Navy might also equip clipper-type merchant ships with weapons for blockade missions. So, our 'Freedom Wheel' must be faster— I think 20-21 knots is an ideal target!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Frederick, who had been writing furiously beside him, suddenly stopped, looking at Smith with some surprise:

"20-21 knots—are you sure, Willy?"

Compared to his father, King William, Frederick was an army officer with more knowledge of naval affairs and a more modern outlook. He understood what 20-21 knots meant in this era. In 1861, this was an almost fantastical speed, and any fantastical performance also implied a very high level of technical difficulty!

"Yes, Father, it does require such speed," Smith answered:

"But this speed cannot be achieved solely by steam or sail power. This ship should be a hybrid-powered vessel, with the maximum speed of 20-21 knots achieved when both sails are fully deployed and the steam engine is running at full power. If only relying on the steam engine, the speed should be around 17-18 knots!"

"Mm, I'll record this as it is!" Frederick, knowing he was not a naval engineer, after a brief moment of surprise, decided to jot down the details for the ship designers to figure out.

"I think I understand your point now," King William said, somewhat enlightened:

"When breaking the blockade, if there is no wind or the wind is insufficient, only the steam-powered U.S. warships can catch up with the 'Freedom Wheel,' but their steam engines will only allow them to reach 11-12 knots, while the 'Freedom Wheel' can run at 17-18 knots. If the wind is strong, then with the sails fully deployed, the 'Freedom Wheel' can reach the fastest speed of 20-21 knots, which will also be unattainable for the U.S. warships, which can only reach 17-18 knots under full sail.

—In other words, the 'Freedom Wheel' must be faster than any enemy, right?"

"Exactly!" Smith agreed:

"So, having enough speed is the foundation for the existence of the 'Freedom Wheel'!"

Then Smith shifted the topic:

"But no matter how fast a ship is, it can't be faster than a cannonball. So, the 'Freedom Wheel' not only needs to be faster than anyone else, but also needs to be able to withstand some hits!"

After a pause, Smith continued:

"The range and power of naval cannons have made great progress compared to decades ago, but they still can't achieve a high enough hit rate at long distances. So, indeed, the 'Freedom Wheel' can rely on its higher speed to outrun the blockading ships and gain relative safety. However, a lower hit rate doesn't mean that it can't be hit at all. If a lucky shell hits a vulnerable spot, like the boiler room or the engine room, then the 'Freedom Wheel's' high speed will inevitably be compromised. This situation must be avoided!"

"So, survivability should be the second priority, right?" Frederick asked as he wrote.

Smith nodded:

"Yes, survivability is crucial. I think we can try to hide critical equipment like the boiler room and engine room below the waterline and add double hulls and coal bunkers near the waterline to improve the ship's resistance to damage. In this way, at long distances, even small caliber shells might not be able to penetrate the coal bunkers, and even if a heavy shell does penetrate, its power will be reduced. This way, the ship won't be stopped by one or two lucky hits!"

Before Smith could finish speaking, someone came in to report, and soon after, a servant entered, leading a silver-haired middle-aged man into the room—

—It was Schubert, who managed the Hohenzollern family's business!