The country of Denmark had surrendered only four hours after the first German troops had crossed the border, seeking to protect their citizens from German hegemony.
The blitz attack shocked the world once more, which had only just begun to stir after Germany had lain dormant for nearly a year.
"Prime Minister… Denmark has capitulated," an adjutant whispered, his voice growing smaller and smaller beneath the sharpening gazes of Churchill and the officers around him.
"This is… they could not even wait until our aid arrived…" one of the generals muttered, balling his fist.
"What are you planning, Jaeger?" Churchill whispered, deep in contemplation while his generals continued to curse Denmark's cowardice.
"What did our intelligence report say about German troop movements?"
"Although it is limited since the purge, they reported massive troop movements converging on the northern western coastline of Denmark. Troops, planes, and even the Kriegsmarine have been active."
"We are still trying to track their destination..."
"It has to be the iron ore…" Churchill suddenly exclaimed. His generals paused.
"They want to target Norway?" General Montgomery asked, immediately understanding the situation.
"Since we have targeted Swedish iron ore shipments, they wish to secure their supply by taking Norway." Churchill hammered his fist on the table.
"Contact the Norwegian royal family immediately!" Churchill shouted, rising as quickly as he could before limping away.
"And prepare!" He suddenly stopped, turning. "This time we will make the first move. The Navy, Air Force, and Army shall be ready to depart at any moment."
Admiral Dudley Pound widened his eyes.
"This time we may redeem the shame of Scapa Flow. A surprise attack upon the German invasion."
Wilhelmshaven
The wind snapped sharply at the capes of the two giants standing at the edge of the pier, watching as the massive steel warships of the German Kriegsmarine left the harbor.
"Magnificent. The new destroyers even more so, I must say," Wilhelm exclaimed, his deep voice touched with melancholy.
Dozens of towers glided through the water, slowly sinking beneath the harsh waves of the North Sea.
"Indeed. And that is only what you see above the surface. Beneath it lies the true danger. Our wolf packs will devour the British fleet with a brutality unseen in naval warfare. This time, the Kriegsmarine will repay the shame of the Great War."
Wilhelm nodded, his eyes suddenly falling on the letter between Paul's leather clad fingers.
"That sigil… Luxembourg?" Wilhelm asked, obviously well versed in the royal families of Europe.
Paul nodded.
"The Duchess and I… well, we write letters to each other from time to time."
Wilhelm widened his eyes, studying Paul carefully, searching his expression for confirmation of his suspicion.
Paul merely nodded again, closing his eyes.
The last cruiser left the harbor, the fleet already assembling on the horizon.
"This is Admiral Raeder, aboard the Tirpitz. All units assume formation."
Raeder nodded resolutely toward Admiral Dönitz, who stood on the bridge of the Graf Spee, the ship sailing just off his starboard side. Even from the distance, he could make out the small figure of Dönitz returning the nod.
The massive North Sea fleet sent out that morning consisted of the battleship Tirpitz, leading the strike force, as well as the Scharnhorst.
The battlecruisers Deutschland and Graf Spee followed in formation, Dönitz aboard the latter. Alongside them sailed the new heavy cruiser Kaiser Willhelm, the first of the newly developed Kaiser class. Its construction had been pushed through by Raeder, who had never fully agreed with Paul's exclusive reliance on undersea warfare.
The Kaiser Willhelm carried the newest generation of radar, developed by the research team at Black Forest Lodge, functioning as the eyes and ears of the fleet. Her engines had been refined for greater range and efficiency, her deck armor reinforced especially against aerial attacks. Heavy anti-aircraft batteries lined her superstructure, bristling in layered defense against incoming bombers.
Accompanying the core were the heavy cruisers Admiral Hipper, Blücher, and the newly finished Prinz Eugen. Seven light cruisers followed in staggered formation, including the twin ships of the new Königsberg class, their slimmer silhouettes cutting sharply through the grey water.
The Königsberg and Danzig had only been completed in the last year and a half under the Strategic Renewal Program, designed specifically for rapid maneuvers, fast strikes, and enhanced anti-aircraft defense.
At the edge of the formation sailed ships of the new Wolfsburg-class destroyers, eight in total, their angular structures bristling with radar and flak.
Beneath the waves, silent and deadly, prowled twenty of the eighty U-boats of the new TypeVII C, five of the twenty Type IX, and two of the ten Type VII D.
The remaining U-boats had been dispatched for convoy raiding in the Atlantic and North Sea, forming an invisible net that could strike anywhere the enemy fleet might move.
Aboard them, thousands of newly trained sailors manned the ships. The crew composition was nearly balanced, about half seasoned personnel and half newly conscripted recruits, required to man the mass of new vessels. Over the past year, these new sailors had undergone extensive training.
"Operation Weserübung is to start. The Kriegsmarine is on course," Raeder ordered.
Somewhere above the North Sea
"Well, new guy, are you ready for your first real battle?" a voice asked, crackling through the earpiece of Erich Hartmann, who shook his head in annoyance.
"Oberleutnant Bakhorn, should you not be calming my nerves?" Erich asked, almost ironically.
Suddenly, Erich's plane shook lightly. He quickly twisted the controls, stabilizing it again before raising his eyes to the side. Another Messerschmitt fighter had appeared right next to his.
"Should that have calmed me?" Erich asked, his voice growing more distant as he marveled at the sight before him. Both planes had risen above the dark clouds, the sun now shining brightly upon the two fighters. The blue sky stretched far and wide, a sight to behold for the young Erich.
Behind the two, one plane after another broke through the thick cloud bed, lining up behind them.
After some time, Bakhorn's voice came through again, something that sent Erich's adrenaline rising once more, because he knew what it meant.
"We have arrived. Gentlemen, it's time," Bakhorn said over the radio to all the planes that had assembled.
Erich watched as Bakhorn's Messerschmitt fighter waggled its wings from side to side, as if saying goodbye, before the aircraft suddenly lunged downward. Within seconds, he had pierced the clouds, disappearing from sight.
Erich took a deep breath before he, too, pushed his controls downward. The G-force pulled harshly at him, yet he remained focused, his plane disappearing into the grey mist as everything around him suddenly turned dark.
Then he emerged from the clouds again, almost in a straight nosedive, and the battlefield unfolded beneath him. It was a massive, unforgettable sight.
A vast beach stretched along the coastline, now consumed by explosions that hurled sand and dirt high into the air. Smoke drifted over the shore in thick, rolling clouds. Countless dark figures could be seen across the open ground, running toward the defensive line further inland, seeking what little cover they could find.
They had all come from the transport ships anchored in the bay, their boats ferrying wave after wave of soldiers toward the harbor and beach. Smaller craft darted back and forth across the water, unloading men directly onto the docks and piers rather than an open beach.
But they were not alone.
From the sky above, scattered parachutes began to descend through the drifting smoke. One after another, Fallschirmjäger descended.
Further in the distance, dozens of warships dominated the horizon. Their massive turrets fired salvo after salvo, the thunder of their guns echoing even at this height. The sheer weight of their shells tore into the rocky coastline, blasting apart the very cliffs from which the defending gunfire seemed to originate.
Each impact sent fragments of stone and earth erupting skyward.
But Erich had little time left to marvel at the sight. Not far from him, dark silhouettes emerged through the haze, fast and closing in. They were not German.
"Norwegian and British?!" Erich exclaimed.
He yanked his fighter sharply to the right, barely dodging a burst of machine-gun fire that tore through the air where he had been a second before. A Norwegian fighter had locked onto him.
"So this is it…" Erich muttered under his breath.
The radio erupted with overlapping voices as more enemy aircraft joined the fray.
"Well then… let the battle of Stavanger begin," he said, a hint of nervous excitement in his voice.
He aligned his sights and pressed down on the firing button.
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