Chapter 3: Iron and Blood
"Achtung!"
Erich Falke strode past the Matrosenfeldwebel into the briefing room. "You may be seated," he said automatically, before realizing that most of the occupants still were.
His eyes flicked over them, putting the names he had read in his briefing packet to faces.
The two women standing at attention at the front of the room were clearly Bismarck and Tirpitz- they wore similar clothing, though Tirpitz's white contrasted with her sister's black. A smaller girl with an Iron Cross hairpin was trying to urge other destroyers into something resembling attention. That would be Z23, of course.
Then there were the cruisers.
Prinz Eugen reclined in her seat, studying him closely, her finger on her lips. Deutschland openly glared at him. Hipper ignored him. The light cruisers, at least, seemed attentive if a bit more relaxed than he would have liked.
Falke met eyes with Leipzig, who promptly fainted.
He sighed.
"Bismarck."
"Ich bien hier, Herr Kommandant."
"I am walking outside for five minutes," said Falke. "When I return, I expect this room to be in some sort of order."
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." The battleship glared at the destroyers, who settled down immediately. She transferred her glare to Deutschland, who returned it with a supercilious air.
"Feldwebel," he said as he walked outside. "Come with me."
The two sailors waited outside the hallway. Muffled shouting could be heard through the door to the briefing room. "What is your name, Feldwebel?"
"Scherer, Herr Kommodore. Karl Scherer."
"Are they always like this? I expected more obedience to authority from German ships." They both started as they heard a sound remarkably like a small cannon from the briefing room. The shouting got louder.
Scherer coughed. "Should we go in? I mean, that sounded like a cannon shot." There was another boom.
"A good reason not to go in, I suspect."
The feldwebel looked dubious. "Well, to answer your question, they seem to have very different personalities. Bismarck seems to be the leader, and she and Tirpitz are both congenial to orders if issued respectfully." He shrugged. "The rest...well, they are young girls."
"No, they're not," said Falke sharply.
"Aren't they, sir?"
"No." He glanced at his watch. "We can't afford for them to be."
"Let's try this again, shall we? Feldwebel?"
The petty officer nodded. "Achtung!"
The response was better. The destroyers and light cruisers lined up in an orderly row. Hipper and Eugen were at least standing, though the smug look on the latter's face was a new kind of insubordination all on its own. Deutschland, scowling at him through a black eye, reluctantly stood up.
"All present and accounted for, sir!" said Bismarck.
"Thank you, Bismarck. Please be seated."
The ship-girls all sat. Falke walked to the front of the room and studied them.
"Since when did Germans show such lack of discipline?" he asked quietly.
"Since when did you command us?" demanded Hipper furiously. "Do they let just any Tom, Dick, or Harry become commanders? Who are you to command us?"
"I am Deutschland," said Deutschland. "Lowly animals such as yourself should listen to my commands, not the other way around."
"You should show respect!" shouted Z23 angrily.
"Be quiet, little destroyer, before I put you in your place."
The room descended into a half-dozen separate arguments. Falke glanced at Scherer, who looked horrified. He walked to the podium at the front of the room.
By now no one was paying any attention to him. Bismarck was staring down Deutschland, both of them appearing on the verge of manifesting their rigging. Tirpitz was physically restraining Z23 as she tried to get at Deutschland. Leipzig, he noted, had fainted.
"At seven o'clock in the morning, Koenigsberg was attacked by the Sirens," he said, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the hubbub.
The noise level subsided, with at least the majority of the ship-girls looking at him.
"At least seven hundred civilians were killed," he continued, his voice still calm and measured.
That got all their attention. A sudden silence filled the room. He swept his gaze over them, meeting their eyes one by one. Leipzig stood up, albeit shakily.
"This was the sixteenth attack of similar size in the past three months. I have sworn an oath to the Kaiser and the Reich to defend our people." He paused. "And you were created for that specific purpose."
Even Deutschland looked ashamed, though she tried to hide it with a glare. "I can defend the Reich myself, Kommandant," she sneered. Getting to her feet, she stalked out of the room, pushing past Scherer.
Falke didn't even bother to watch her go, keeping his eyes on the others. "And the rest of you?"
They exchanged looks, but in the end their eyes fell on Bismarck. She stepped forward. "I am willing to follow where you lead, Herr Kommandant." Her eyes hardened. "As long as you hold to that oath."
He walked around the podium to stand in front of her. "We- all of us- are weapons," he said, his voice soft. "The swords and shields of Germany. It is not by speeches and majority votes that the great questions of the day are decided..."
She finished the quotation. "But by iron and blood."
He nodded. "Eisen und Blut, Bismarck." He touched her rigging. "You are iron." He tapped his chest over his heart. "And I am blood.
"And together we will save Germany."
There was a sudden thump as Leipzig fainted.