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Chapter 185: America Rules the Waves!

Onboard the USS Monitor, St. Lawrence River

August 3rd, 1834

Admiral Reynold John Jones watched the dark surface of the St. Lawrence in the pilothouse at the frontend turret of the USS Monitor. The ship was chugging forward at seven knots and the sixty crew members inside were working tirelessly to ensure that the Monitor's maiden voyage went off without a hitch. Though the admiral was unable to see the Monitor's sister ships (the USS Virginia and the USS Quebec), he knew that they were sailing behind his flagship as they slowly made their way towards the location of the small British fleet located off of Anticosti Island. Even after seeing the ironclads moving by themselves, Admiral Jones had a hard time believing that the metal ships were floating and moving forward. However, the smell of coal and the sound of the steam engine pumping power into the Monitor dispelled his thoughts. This was (one of) the final result of the Monitor Project: thick 4-inch rolled armor, four 40-cm smoothbore shell guns fitted into two gun turrets, two small steam engines to turn the turrets, two vertical boilers, and two powerful engines that pushed the 1400-ton ship forward. Despite it being named an "ironclad," the ship was covered in steel and gave off an intimidating gleam. He was certain that if his father was alive, then he would've lept out of his bed and jumped at the chance to command one of these ships. Unfortunately, his father had passed just as the war began and after his death, Reynold was inducted into the Society as an official member (before his father's death, he was an observer with his father maintaining a seat within the Society). Even with his "advanced" knowledge due to his inclusion in the secretive group, he had no idea how the ironclads worked.

However, he did know two things: it was invincible against anything the Alliance navies fielded, and he was to lead the ironclads on their first attack against their enemies. He planned to send every British ship he saw to the bottom of the sea.

Admiral Cochrane (his acquaintance and "rival") would quickly follow behind with his three Bunker Hill class armored frigates and the remainders of the United States Navy would band together to sweep the Alliance away from the East Coast and restore a connection between America and France. The ships also had to take back St. Johns from the British, as the port city had been captured shortly after the fall of Bermuda to supply the British ships that were tasked with monitoring the St. Lawrence River. He had also heard that Admiral Cochrane planned to lead a surprise attack against the British Isles themselves, but it was merely a rumor for now. If the rumors were true though, he hoped that he would be leading the attack. After all, it would be poetic to send a Jones to raid the British...

"How is she holding up, lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Jason Moore, a young African-American lad from Virginia, saluted enthusiastically, "She's running smoothly, sir. There haven't been any problems so far."

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"And the guns?"

"Armed and ready to fire whenever you give the command. The gyroscopes are working perfectly as well."

Admiral Jones smiled at the man's enthusiasm, and he knew that it was shared by many of the crew members. This was finally a chance for the disgraced United States Navy to give their opponents a black eye. And it was on an "invincible" ship to boot. He checked the time and glanced outside with his binoculars to see very dark, tall figures out in the distance, "Tell the engineers to increase our bearing speed from seven knots to eight knots. Signal the other ships as well, we will be upon them soon."

"Aye, Admiral," Lieutenant Moore replied as he hurried away to inform the engineering department.

Clearing his throat with a cough, the admiral stood in front of the "intercom" instrument that allowed him to make announcements to the crew. It was a large tube that transmitted his voice through other tubes that were placed throughout the ship. As he began to speak, he felt the ship slowly increase its speed and move faster towards the hostile ships, "In mere minutes, we will be upon our enemies. They will attack us, their attacks will all fail, and we will watch as our guns devastate all their ships as they are unable to respond in kind."

"Some of you may believe that this is cruel," Admiral Jones swore that he heard several snorts from the officers next to him and more across the ship, "But we were not the ones that started this war. However, we will be the ones to finish it. Every shell we fire will be in memory of the thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, that lost their lives in this brutal war started by Britain and her allies. Every ship we sink will be for the cities they burned in the name of their kings. And most importantly, since the British love the seas so much, we will send them to the bottom of the seas to enjoy the full view of the destruction of their Navy!"

Cheers broke out throughout the ship as the Monitor moved forward, slightly faster than before. The turrets began to slowly rotate and point towards their target as the sun began to rise in the distance. The ironclads were merely two kilometers away from their foe now, and it became clear that the fifteen British ships that were docked right off of Anticosti Island spotted them because there was a flurry of activity on all the wooden warships. However, with only a gentle breeze in the air and the Monitor-class ironclads moving forward with the power of the steam engine, the American ships were in a comfortable range for their guns to fire within seven minutes. From a distance of 500 meters, the twelve guns between the three ironclads fired explosive shells towards the enemy fleet, setting six ships instantly aflame (two shells for each ship). Their salvo was met with a scattered British counterattack, but all of them bounced harmlessly off the metal armor that coated the ironclads.

Every seven minutes, the ironclads fired their explosive shells at the enemy. And within a span of twenty minutes, all the British ships, including a large first rate, were on fire. Half of them were sinking and an attempt made by a frigate to ram the Monitor only resulted in the wooden ship being torn apart.

It was a flawless and one-sided victory. Admiral Jones almost pitied his enemies but authorized his gun crew to continue firing. Within an hour, every single British ship was at the bottom of the sea and over a thousand British sailors lost their lives in the short, but brutal battle.