In the early hours of the morning, the British Government's temporary headquarters inside the air-raid shelter was still brightly lit.
Another sleepless night. The smoke from the daytime bombing had only just cleared when another piece of terrible news arrived.
The Anglo-Japanese Allied Fleet had suffered a crushing defeat in the naval battle. Even its flagship had sunk, and Fleet Commander Admiral Michel's fate was currently unknown.
Upon receiving the news, everyone's first reaction was: "You've got to be kidding." The Far East Fleet alone should have been enough to suppress the South Seas Fleet—how could the Anglo-Japanese Allied Fleet possibly lose?
Regrettably, repeated verification proved that this was reality, not some prank.
Forced to accept that reality, Prime Minister Campbell felt his entire worldview overturned. So the Royal Navy was no longer invincible beneath heaven.
With that realization, Campbell felt utterly miserable. If the Royal Navy could no longer hold the field, then how was this war supposed to be fought?
The most dumbfounded of all was Naval Minister Swinding. The reports from the front had explained it clearly enough, attributing the defeat to one cause: the enemy's air force had joined the battle.
As for the aircraft carriers, they had remained hidden in the rear from beginning to end, never once showing themselves. In any case, it had all been aircraft conducting the bombing, and the British warships involved naturally could not tell the difference.
War was cruel. A loss was a loss. No matter how many reasons there were, none could change the fact of defeat.
How formidable the enemy air force was could be seen simply by looking at where the cabinet government was now working. If they had possessed even the slightest alternative, they would never have been reduced to this state.
After a brief