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The first modern steel battleship to be sunk by gunfire was an Imperial Russian flagship

The first modern steel battleship to be sunk by gunfire was an Imperial Russian flagship

Yahoo06-05-2025
The Russian battleship Oslyabya had a grand legacy. Named for a Russian hero, the vessel was little more than two years old when it went into battle against the Japanese in the Russian Far East. It would end up making history, but not for the reasons the Russian Empire would hope for. Its first naval engagement would be its last. Steaming into the 1905 Battle of Tsushima against the Imperial Japanese fleet, it would become famous as the first modern steel battleship to be sunk solely by enemy guns.
The Battle of Tsushima went about as well for Russia as the rest of its ill-fated war against Japan, which is to say: not at all. On paper, the war shouldn't have been such a complete drubbing for the Russians. Both sides utilized similar, modernized technology, had a roughly similar number of troops available to fight and as a result, inflicted a horrendously similar number of casualties. But in naval terms, the number of Russian ships in its various fleets should have outmatched the Japanese – but that did not happen.
In fact, the opposite happened. Twice.
Japan was a relative newcomer to the modern world, but its military modernized and grew at a rapid pace, and that includes its leadership. Japan rocked China's world in the First Sino-Japanese War that ended in 1895, acquiring control of Korea and the Liaodong Peninsula with its warm water port of Port Arthur. Russia, Germany and France forced the Japanese out of China, and that's when Japan got the idea that the Europeans weren't taking their empire seriously and had to be taught a lesson. When Japan offered to recognize Russian dominance in Manchuria in exchange for Russian recognition of Japan's dominance of Korea, the Russians not only rejected it but suggested that Japan cede Korea.
That's when Imperial Japan went for the sucker punch it would soon be famous for. It launched a surprise attack on Port Arthur in February 1904 and then laid siege to the city. In a war that would see upwards of 200,000 Japanese killed or wounded and 250,000 Russians killed or wounded, the Russian leadership would not win a single battle. Despite the Russian Empire's massive population, large military and nearly unlimited resources, all of that stuff was in Europe and the railroad to the Pacific wasn't finished yet. When the Japanese crippled the Russian Far East Fleet at Port Arthur, Tsar Nicholas II had to send his largely untested Baltic Sea Fleet to the Pacific.
Under the command of Adm. Zinovy Rozhestvensky, the Baltic Fleet almost immediately fired on ships it thought were Japanese torpedo boats… in the North Sea. Those enemy warships turned out to be British fishing boats. Two British sailors were killed along with two Russians (somehow). The Russians even managed to mistake their own ships for Japanese vessels and fired on each other. The British would decide not to go to war over it, but the new Russian battleships opted to go around Africa's Cape of Good Hope, rather than steam through the British-controlled Suez Canal.
The Baltic Sea Fleet's mission to relieve the Siege of Port Arthur would ultimately fail, mostly because it took seven months to get to the Sea of Japan. The city had fallen to the Japanese by then, and the battleships in port were sunk by Japanese land artillery. After steaming 18,000 nautical miles to the theater of war, the Russians weren't really in the best shape to do battle with Japan's veteran sailors and battleships. They were poorly maintained, many were old, and almost all of them were gathering microorganisms on their hulls, slowing them down and reducing their maneuverability. To be fair, they weren't looking to fight; they wanted to slip past and head to Vladivostok to regroup – but they tried the fastest, shortest, and most dangerous route past Japan: the Tsushima Strait.
So, of course, a Japanese cruiser caught them, then sent a telegram to Adm. Tōgō Heihachirō, who went to sea with his entire fleet. It took six hours to catch up to the Russian fleet and less than an hour for Japan to cross the Russians' T, which meant the Japanese could fire full broadsides while the Russians could reply only with their forward batteries. Just 90 minutes into the battle, the Oslyabya, flagship of Rear Adm. Baron Dmitry von Fölkersam, was sunk by Japan's guns, the first modern steel battleship to go down that way. Fölkersam went down with the ship, which is probably another historic first.
By the time the sun went down on May 27, 1905, Adm. Rozhestvensky was unconscious and the Russians had lost four battleships. Torpedo boats and destroyers harassed the Russians throughout the night (because the Russians decided to use their searchlights to try to find the enemy, giving away their positions in the dark). The next morning, what was left of the Russian ships tried to retreat but they were outclassed. They surrendered.
Along with the Oslyabya, the Russians lost five more battleships during the Battle of Tsushima, as well as a littoral battleship and 14 other vessels. Two battleships, two coastal battleships, and a destroyer were captured, and more than 11,000 Russian sailors were killed or captured. The Battle of Tsushima also featured the first time wireless telegraph was a decisive part of the battle, as it signaled the Japanese fleet the Russians were present. The defeat forced Russia to sue for peace, setting the stage for Japan's rise as a true imperial power.
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Number of International Adoptions in U.S. Plummets
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Newsweek

time7 hours ago

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Number of International Adoptions in U.S. Plummets

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Charles Lindbergh was a Nazi puppet—and his famous flight was overrated. Here's why.
Charles Lindbergh was a Nazi puppet—and his famous flight was overrated. Here's why.

National Geographic

time12 hours ago

  • National Geographic

Charles Lindbergh was a Nazi puppet—and his famous flight was overrated. Here's why.

Charles Lindbergh standing in front of his plane, the Spirit of St. Louis, which he used on his transatlantic flight. Photograph by Bridgeman Images The aviator was so impressed by German propaganda that he grossly overestimated Hitler's airpower. I have to declare a personal stake that shapes my opinion as I write this story. It has its origins in 1940, 85 years ago this month. I was seven years old, living near London. I watched the choreography of a great battle underway, etched in vapor trails high above in the crisp blue sky of summer, the combat that became known as the Battle of Britain. I wasn't scared. I watched with the detached excitement of a child unaware of how perilous those days were for us. That understanding would come later, from my work as a journalist, spending years discovering how closely fought that famous victory was. Had that battle been lost it is doubtful that Britain, then alone as most of Western Europe fell to Hitler, could have survived, as it did, until Pearl Harbor made American intervention inevitable. As things have turned out, one of my most unsettling discoveries has been that a man long hailed as an American legend, Charles Lindbergh, worked avidly with the Germans to undermine the chances of a British victory. Much has long been known about Lindbergh's alliance with American fascists between 1939 and 1941, and particularly his speech in Des Moines, Iowa in September 1941, in which he blamed three groups—the Roosevelt administration, the British and the Jews—for pressing the nation to confront Hitler. Much less known is the role Lindbergh played in England during the 1930s as Hitler's useful idiot, spreading the idea that Nazi Germany had become an invincible air power. The first Nazi to spot and exploit Lindbergh as an effective agent of German disinformation was Hermann Goering, Hitler's deputy and head of his air force, the Luftwaffe. Goering recognized that Lindbergh's celebrity gave him oracular authority on aviation—whether justified or not. Portrait of Charles Lindbergh Photograph by The Stapleton Collection, Bridgeman Images A decade after Lindbergh's epic solo flight across the Atlantic, on October 16, 1937, the Nazis made their master move, allowing him into their secret test field at Rechlin, near the Baltic coast. Virtually all the Luftwaffe's future aircraft were revealed to him. Credulous and convinced that no other European power rivaled Germany in the air, Lindbergh thereafter became a powerful influence on the 'peace at any price' factions in Britain and France. Lindbergh had no background in military aviation, but when he spoke on the subject of anything with wings, a lot of important people listened. There were numerous reports of Lindbergh pressing his views on leading European politicians, some of whom found them unnerving and demoralizing. For example, the British military attaché in Paris, seeing how rattled the French were by Lindbergh's assessments, reported to London, '…the Fuhrer found a most convenient ambassador in Colonel Lindbergh.' Limited Time: Bonus Issue Offer Subscribe now and gift up to 4 bonus issues—starting at $34/year. Lindbergh's impact in Britain was equally effective. In a single meeting he could turn a stern patriot into an abject appeaser. In 1938 a highly influential Tory, Thomas Jones, noted in his diary that before listening to Lindbergh he had been for standing up against Hitler but: 'Since my talk with Lindbergh I've sided with those working for peace at any cost in humiliation, because of the picture of our relative unpreparedness in the air…' (How the Battle of Britain changed the war—and the world—forever) Lindbergh also had a willing ear in the American ambassador in London, Joseph Kennedy. In 1938 he told Kennedy that Germany was then able to produce 20,000 military airplanes a year and gave a dark prediction of likely British defeat in the air. (In October 1938 Goering, on behalf of Hitler, awarded Lindbergh the Service Cross of the German Eagle.) In fact, Lindbergh's numbers were absurdly inflated. They were, literally, being used by the Nazis as a force multiplier. Moreover, Lindbergh's propaganda had masked a systemic weakness in the organization of German aircraft production. It was far from being a model of Teutonic efficiency. Production was dispersed among many manufacturers competing for resources and slowed by supply chain bottlenecks. In contrast, British aircraft production was far more rigorously directed and resourced from a central command. Charles Lindbergh receiving the Service Cross of the German Eagle from Hermann Goering on behalf of Adolf Hitler Photograph by SZ Photo/Scherl, Bridgeman Images More crucially, Lindbergh had no inkling of a game-changing technical leap in the deployment of air power that the British pioneered, the world's most advanced radar-based early warning system. Incoming waves of bombers could be pinpointed and tracked before they reached the British coast. Their size, direction and altitude were precisely plotted on a map in a central operations room, enabling the Royal Air Force (R.A.F) to deploy its precious hundreds of advanced fighters and pilots sparingly in the most efficient and deadly way. 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(Searching for the remains of two early transatlantic pilots) This is testament to Churchill's remarkable openness, at the age of 65, to technical transformation: As a young man he had served in the army, and had then twice served as First Lord of the Admiralty, in 1911 and 1939, running the Royal Navy. But, as much as he loved Britain's imperial-scale navy, he understood in 1940, ahead of many others, that the island nation's last line of defense was now in the air. On June 18, 1940, in one of his greatest speeches, Churchill warned, 'The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us…if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age.' Yet, if Britain prevailed, the world would say, 'This was their finest hour.' The battle engaged remarkably low numbers of men in combat, only a few hundred on each side, almost like medieval knights, each alone in a cockpit. When it was over, Churchill made the indelible tribute to his airmen: 'Never in the history of human conflict have so many owed so much to so few.' Victory in the air ended any chance of Hitler carrying out Operation Sea Lion, his planned invasion of Britain. And it finally laid bare the pernicious extent of the disinformation spread by Lindbergh—swallowed whole by many, including Ambassador Kennedy. Even then, Kennedy, a hardened isolationist, had learned nothing. Unmoved by the victory, he said, 'The British have had it. They can't stop the Germans and the best thing for them is to learn to live with them.' (Charles Lindbergh's wife was a record-breaking aviator in her own right) It's important to note that Lindbergh's crossing of the Atlantic in 1927 was an act of superb airmanship—particularly of navigation—but it did nothing to advance the science of aviation. 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It will fall to President Donald Trump to decide how the nation will mark the centennial of Lindbergh's 1927 flight from Long Island, New York, to Paris. This will confront America with a challenging moral judgment: Can a legendary human endeavor ever be celebrated if the 'hero' turns out to have been so deeply flawed?

Freed from Russian prisons, Ukrainian soldiers lean into counseling to rebuild their lives
Freed from Russian prisons, Ukrainian soldiers lean into counseling to rebuild their lives

San Francisco Chronicle​

time12 hours ago

  • San Francisco Chronicle​

Freed from Russian prisons, Ukrainian soldiers lean into counseling to rebuild their lives

KYIV, Ukraine (AP) — Since his release from a Russian prison in April, Stanislav Tarnavskyi has been in a hurry to build the life in Ukraine he dreamed about during three years of captivity. The 25-year-old has proposed to his girlfriend, bought an apartment and adopted a golden retriever. And that was just what he accomplished one week in July. But as busy as he is rekindling old relationships and creating new ones, Tarnavskyi cannot shake the trauma he and thousands of other Ukrainian soldiers experienced as prisoners of war. The U.N. says many endured beatings, starvation and humiliation at the hands of their captors — experiences that will leave lifelong scars. Tarnavskyi, who was captured during the battle for Mariupol in April of 2022, regularly has nightmares about the prisons where he was held. 'I see the officers who watched over us. I dream they want to harm me, catch me,' he said. When he wakes up, his heart pounds, anxiety surges — until he realizes he is in the outskirts of Kyiv, where he was forced to move because Russia occupied his hometown of Berdiansk. As the three-year war drags on, Tarnavskyi is one of more than 5,000 former POWs back in Ukraine rehabilitating with the help of regular counseling. Regardless of any physical injuries that may require attention, psychologists say it is vital to monitor former POWs for years after their release; the cost of war, they say, echoes for generations. A marriage proposal In a photography studio high above Kyiv, Ukraine's capital, sunlight floods the white walls. After a shoot that lasted several hours Tarnavskyi said the brightness was hurting his eyes, which are still sensitive from years spent in a dark cell. But his mood couldn't be dimmed. The girlfriend who waited for his return had just consented to his surprise proposal. 'I love you very much, I am very glad that you waited for me," Tarnavskyi said, holding a thick bouquet of pink roses and a ring. "You have always been my support, and I hope you will remain so for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?' Tarnavskyi said it was the thought of Tetiana Baieva — whom he met in 2021 — that helped stop him from taking his own life three times during captivity. Still, he finds it hard to talk with Baieva about his time in prison. He doesn't want to be pitied. Soon after he returned home, he was paranoid, feeling watched — a reaction to constant surveillance in prison. 'If you stepped out of line, they'd (Russians) come and beat you. I still get flashbacks when I see (surveillance) cameras. If I see one, I get nervous,' he said. Lifelong care is vital Any small stimulus — a smell, a breeze, a color — can trigger traumatic memories for POWs, says Kseniia Voznitsyna, the director of Ukraine's Lisova Polyana mental health center for veterans on the outskirts of Kyiv. Yet contrary to stereotypes, ex-POWs aren't more aggressive. 'They tend to isolate themselves, avoid large gatherings, and struggle with trust,' said Voznitsyna. 'They say time heals — five or 10 years, maybe — but it doesn't," she added. "It just feels less intense.' A 2014 study in the Journal of Behavioral Medicine found that Israeli ex-POWs and combat veterans tracked over 35 years had higher mortality rates, chronic illnesses and worse self-rated health — conditions partly tied to depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. The authors of the study said that is why it is crucial to monitor ex-POWs and give them specialized medical and psychological care as they age. That logic rings true to Denys Zalizko, a 21-year-old former POW who has been back in Ukraine for less than three months but is already sure his recovery will take a long time. 'You can't fool yourself. Even if you really want to, you will never forget. It will always haunt you,' he said. An artist to be Zalizko said he survived torture, suicide attempts and relentless beatings during roughly 15 months in Russian captivity. The first time his mother, Maria Zalizko, saw him after his release, she barely recognized him. He was thin and appeared 'broken,' she said, with torment in his eyes. Zalizko's physical appearance is now almost completely different. His skin looks healthy, his muscles are taut and he has lots of energy. But still there is sadness in his eyes. Two things keep him moving forward and help clear his mind: music and exercise. 'Pauses and stillness bring anxiety,' says Zalizko. 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'I'm not afraid of death, not afraid of losing an arm or a leg, not afraid of dying instantly. I fear nothing anymore.'

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