Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 147: Ch.146 Island

Chapter 147: Ch.146 Island

Sinking due to a mine during World War I was indeed an awkward situation because it was unclear whether the mine was placed by the enemy or by one's own forces.

At that time, there was no sonar, and the technology for charting seas and making mines was relatively primitive. Britain and Germany deployed 310,000 mines during World War I, and no one really knew where they all ended up.

If the chain holding a mine in place broke, it would drift with the currents; if there was an issue with the detonator, it might explode as soon as it hit the water. Before early magnetic mines were developed, even sea turtles could trigger a mine and be killed.

There were many problems.

Defensive ports would deploy mine-laying ships to cover large areas outside the harbor, leaving only one passageway open, making defense easier and preventing enemy landings. The attacking side would use submarines to lay mines in port channels to block supply routes or delay enemy actions.

So, whether Baird's ship was sunk by the enemy or by his own side remains a mystery.

World War I wasn't as bad in this respect, but during World War II, Britain and Germany laid a total of 1.1 million mines. The British records for mine-laying were summed up in one sentence: "Deployed in the English Channel, the Mediterranean, and the North Atlantic."

What's the difference between that and not recording anything?

In this era, British sailors were very superstitious about a certain theory: "A ship lives, the man lives; a ship dies, the man dies." If the ship sank, then as a gentleman, the captain needed to go down with the ship.

The captain of the Titanic did just that, and countless warship captains followed suit.

After defeating the Spanish Armada, Britain ruled the seas for hundreds of years. Countries that wanted to develop their navies would learn from Britain. Naturally, this mindset gradually influenced the world, and going down with the ship became a trend in the naval world.

It wasn't until the U.S. Navy during World War II that this rule was broken.

The American approach was to build another ship if one sank; as long as the crew survived, it was fine. The same went for the army and air force—if they could surrender, they absolutely would not fight to the death.

Why? Because experienced military personnel were more valuable than weapons.

From 1941, when the U.S. entered World War II, to Japan's surrender in 1945, the U.S. launched more than 140 aircraft carriers, produced 40 billion rounds of various ammunition, 300,000 aircraft, and 200,000 tanks in just four years.

In the 1942 Battle of El Alamein, the British lost 500 tanks, but before the troops could withdraw for repairs, the Americans had already prepared 600 brand-new Sherman tanks for them.

Of course, the Sherman tank had some design flaws; soldiers called it a "mobile oven" or "lighter" because it tended to catch fire when hit, and sometimes even when it wasn't hit. But having a tank was still better than having none, right?

American Navy captains knew that sinking a ship didn't matter; as long as they made it back alive, they'd get a new one. This was the caprice of a superpower with vast manufacturing capabilities—this was the victory of production capacity.

So later, no country continued to follow the idea that the captain must go down with the ship.

But now it was 1925, and the events Su Ming remembered hadn't happened yet.

This time period was a bit awkward—World War I was over, and World War II hadn't started yet. What should Su Ming do now? Speaking of which, at this time, Captain America was just five years old; maybe he could go find him.

Baird noticed that Su Ming seemed lost in thought, assuming he was looking at his prosthetic leg. Baird casually rolled up his pant leg, exposing the darkened wood to the sunlight.

"I originally planned to go down with the ship, but an explosion took my leg, and blood loss made me pass out. When I woke up, I had already been retired and was lying in a military hospital in Liverpool."

So he couldn't die gloriously as a Navy captain. Even if he committed suicide now, it would only be as an ordinary person; the war was no longer his concern.

He took his severance pay and crossed the ocean to Hawaii. A sailor friend had once told him this was a good place, so he planned to spend the rest of his life here.

Hawaii was annexed by the United States in 1898, so English could be used here. This isolated island in the ocean seemed like a paradise, perfect for someone as disillusioned as him.

Su Ming could roughly guess what he was thinking, but as a traveler from the future, he knew that this fantasy of a secluded utopia wouldn't last.

How far was Pearl Harbor from here? 50 nautical miles? 70 nautical miles?

It wouldn't even take that long—once World War II broke out, the British Navy would recall retired officers back to service. With his previous rank as a destroyer captain, he'd at least be a major. At that time, he'd likely have a new ship.

Missing a leg wouldn't affect his combat effectiveness in the Navy. He could even be missing an eye or a hand, and it wouldn't matter.

Put on a hook hand and raise a parrot or a monkey, and his combat effectiveness might even increase.

Especially the parrot—it had to be one with red feathers, and whenever it opened its beak, it would speak in a perfect Caribbean accent, making him look even more impressive.

Su Ming smiled as he pulled down Baird's pant leg. This British man was simply down on his luck; he actually wanted to return to the sea, but the fact that he didn't die when he intended to had indeed caused him to lose his direction.

"Right, let's not talk about the past. What's the name of this island again? Hawaiian names are hard to remember."

"Heh, I couldn't remember it either when I first arrived. This island is called Kahoolawe, the eighth largest of the volcanic islands in the Hawaiian archipelago."

Baird laughed as he brushed his mustache, which was a thick, white, handlebar style, clearly well-maintained.

Great, now Su Ming knew his exact location.

But Kahoolawe wasn't destined to be a future tourist spot; it was where the U.S. tested bombs after 1950.

Though they didn't test atomic bombs here, they tested hundreds of thousands of other types of conventional bombs until President Bush stopped the tests in 1995.

This island, though large, had no fresh water, so it lost its value.

So, that means...

"Is it just you and these people on this island?" Su Ming asked out of curiosity. In Deathstroke's memories, Kahoolawe was an empty island. Although historical records showed people had lived there, he hadn't expected them to be British.

"Yes, I bought it from your governor for 2,000 pounds," Baird said with a smile, nodding. He liked the island, so he bought it.

An island without fresh water wasn't worth much; there were tens of thousands of such islands in the Pacific. Although this island was larger, 2,000 pounds was still a large sum of money for that era.

The British pound was on the gold standard, and even after World War I, the pound was still strong, with one pound equivalent to 7.3 grams of gold.

Baird now looked about fifty, but he must have been only in his thirties or forties when he became a captain. No matter how you calculated it, he was too young. This likely had something to do with his background or family; otherwise, a retired officer's pension wouldn't have been enough to buy an island.

"And these people?"

Su Ming pointed to the people working at the dock. Their skin was darker, and he had originally thought they were native inhabitants.

Baird nodded, "They're my attendants, gardeners, and hired workers. We need to buy enough food and water from Honolulu every week; otherwise, we wouldn't survive on this island."

He wanted to live in seclusion but brought attendants and gardeners along.

Quite the lifestyle.