Great Pacific War: A History of the American-Japanese Campaign of 1931-33 (12 page)

The most valuable of the interned United States steamers had taken refuge in the British port of Hong Kong. In order that they might not thereby be deterred from attempting escape, the Japanese Navy Department issued strict orders that no cruisers were to venture too near the port. But the American Consul at Hong Kong, being a shrewd man with some knowledge of Eastern mentality, advised that the experiment be tried of sending out alone the slowest and oldest ship, instead of all American shipping in the port making a general dash to sea. The vessel chosen was the
Borneo
, of 2,000 tons gross, which had been employed in the local trade between Hong Kong, the Philippines, and North Borneo ports, and was then in ballast. The Consul pointed out with reason, that if she should succeed in getting through the South China Sea and out of the war zone without being intercepted, the remaining larger and faster steamers ought to stand an even better chance of eluding capture.

As was invariably found to be the case, the Japanese intelligence service, so far as Eastern affairs were concerned, proved efficient. Prompt information of the
Borneo's
movements must have been furnished, for she had not long quitted territorial waters when a Japanese submarine appeared, and ordered her by semaphore to heave-to, enforcing the command by a shot across the steamer’s bows when she pretended not to understand. Her radio apparatus, if any were fitted, does not seem to have been in working order, but the sound of gunfire brought a British destroyer on the scene. Her report of the
Borneo’s
capture caused the masters of the other American ships at Hong Kong to congratulate themselves on having taken the advice of the Consul in awaiting the success of their consort’s venture before quitting harbour themselves.

For some weeks after the outbreak of war Japanese cruisers were busily engaged in searching neutral bottoms for American owned goods which might be deemed contraband of war, but it was not long before means were found to evade this inquisition, neutral shippers and consignees being employed on an elaborate scale. Despite innocent looking bills of lading and manifests, these methods were sometimes revealed through espionage. The Japanese, however, very soon found it expedient to refrain from detaining goods in cases where the clearest proof of enemy ownership was not to be had, since it became abundantly clear as the war proceeded that they could not afford to take the risk of offending powerful neutrals.

As we saw in a previous chapter, Japan had not scrupled to make the affair of the
Nikko
Marti
an excuse for employing her submarines as commerce destroyers. Proof of their activities was soon forthcoming. In spite of orders having been sent out to all United States merchantmen when war became imminent, warning them to give the danger zone a wide berth, several suffered in the early days from the attentions of Japanese surface and submarine raiders. But if the Japanese had borrowed a leaf from the German war book by utilising submarines to harry enemy shipping, they did their work with a scrupulous regard for the law of nations that stood in refreshing contrast to the brutal methods of the German U-boat commanders.

What happened at the capture of the freight steamer
Orient
on April 28 may be recorded as a typical instance of Japanese procedure. The
Orient
, on passage from Sydney to San Francisco, was intercepted by the Japanese submarine
Ro
.
51
in mid-Pacific, some 150 miles north-west of Washington Island. When first sighted the submarine lay about two miles ahead. She fired a blank charge as a signal to heave-to, whereupon the American ship put on speed, altered course, and endeavoured to shroud herself in a pall of smoke. But the superior speed of the submarine foiled this manoeuvre. Two shots were fired across the bows of the
Orient
, and it was not until the chase had continued for some time that the submarine began shooting in earnest. Even then only unfused 12-pound shell were used. One of these hit the steamer’s funnel, upon which her master stopped his engines and ordered the boats to be cleared. The submarine now approached to within a few hundred yards, keeping her guns trained on the steamer, and sent off a boarding party. His papers having been impounded, Captain Sandstrom was informed that an armed guard would be placed on board, and that he must navigate his ship to Jaluit, in the Marshall Archipelago, which was serving at this time as one of the Japanese advanced bases. He was required to sign a document putting him on his honour to attempt no escape, the alternative being the destruction of his ship and the casting of himself and his crew adrift in open boats. After some hesitation he gave the required pledge, an action for which he was subsequently abused by many critics in America.

A few days later, in the same locality, another submarine held up the U.S.S.
Bath
, a fleet auxiliary carrying cargo, on her way from Honolulu to Tutuila. On this occasion the victim, though in no condition to offer effective resistance (she was only armed with two machine-guns), made a resolute effort to escape, and was only brought to a halt when her engines were wrecked by a shell. Five members of the crew were killed and several others wounded. The injured men were taken on board the submarine, and after receiving medical treatment were transferred with the rest of the crew to a British steamer which had put in an appearance during the chase. The
Bath
, her engines being found to be beyond repair, was scuttled.

Finally, on April 30, occurred the affair of the
Pershing
, in which the Japanese behaved with a remarkable degree of chivalry, the underlying motive for which was not immediately appreciated. The
Pershing
, a Government transport recently renamed on being taken over from the Shipping Board, had sailed from Honolulu on the previous day, bound for San Francisco. She had on board upwards of two hundred officers belonging to the Army and the Coast Artillery Corps, the majority of whom had been recalled for instructional duties in connection with the training of the new armies which were being enrolled in the States. There were besides a number of officers and men invalided home, and some score of officers’ wives, with their children. It had not been considered necessary to provide an escort for the voyage to San Francisco, since there had been no reason to suspect the presence of enemy vessels on this route, though as a matter of precaution all the approaches had been patrolled by flying boats since the outbreak of war. So the transport sailed alone with no premonition of danger.

Shortly after dawn on April 30 the radio station at Pearl Harbour, Hawaii, picked up a signal from the ship which read: “We are being chased by Japanese submarine; enemy gaining fast and firing on us.” No further message came through, and it is easy to imagine the consternation that prevailed at Honolulu when the alarming news became known. As a Government transport the
Pershing
would be legitimate prey for the enemy, and the gravest fears were entertained for the safety of those on board. Two large seaplanes were ordered to rush to the rescue, and destroyers were also dispatched, but; there was little hope of their arriving in time to avert disaster. An hour later suspense was ended by the receipt of a further message to this effect: “Ship released and proceeding on voyage.” Relief at this welcome intelligence was mingled with astonishment and incredulity that the Japanese should have permitted such a valuable prize to go free. But the transport duly reached San Francisco, with a remarkable story to tell, which is here reproduced in the captain’s own words:

Fourteen hours out of Honolulu the look-out sighted a submarine on the starboard bow. It was a very large craft, and at first everybody took it for one of our own, for it seemed impossible that an enemy ship should be cruising so far from Japanese waters. But we were quickly undeceived when the stranger sent a big shell screaming over our bridge. As our best speed was fifteen knots and the submarine was doing at least eighteen, escape seemed hopeless. However, I turned away, ordered full steam, and held on until a shell burst only a few feet away from our bows, throwing a deluge of water on to the forecastle. At this, knowing we must be hit by the next shot and being anxious for the safety of my passengers, I judged it best to stop. As the submarine came up rapidly we saw that she was at least three hundred feet long, with two heavy guns mounted on deck. An officer and four armed sailors boarded us and made me show my papers. I was then ordered to muster everybody, passengers and crew, on deck, and was told by the officer: ‘This ship is to be sunk. You have enough boats to take all these people, and I will let them go on condition that all the men sign an undertaking not to serve in any military capacity while the war lasts.’ I pointed out that bad weather was threatening, that in any case the boats would be dangerously overcrowded, and that we had upwards of forty women and children with us. He then said: ‘Very well, perhaps my captain may let the ship proceed if the men give their parole not to serve in the war.’ I communicated this to Colonel Warner, who said he would under no consideration give his parole, and he forbade the others to do so. Hearing this, the Japanese officer, who had so far been polite though visibly impatient, grew angry, and went back to the submarine for further orders. Returning in a few minutes, he said: ‘The colonel and five officers of highest rank will be taken prisoners of war, but we have decided to let your ship go.’ Knowing resistance to be out of the question, Colonel Warner, with Majors Henderson, Hoffmann, and Green, and Captains Longman and Seibold, stepped forward and said they were willing to go. They were given time to take a small amount of personal baggage, and were then rowed across to the enemy vessel in one oi our boats. When last seen they were standing on the deck of the submarine, waving farewell to us. Meanwhile the boarding party, having stripped our radio gear and confiscated all cameras on board, left the ship, and we continued our voyage.

It transpired later that the second message received at Honolulu, announcing the release of the transport, had been dispatched by the commander of the Japanese submarine - another act of courtesy rare in the annals of war, and one which was highly appreciated by those whose anxiety it relieved. The submarine, with her captives on board, returned to Japan a month later.

With regard to this incident, it has been suggested, probably with justice, that the humane methods practised by the Japanese in their war on commerce were calculated to yield better results in the long run than a policy of ruthlessness. A study of history is believed to have convinced the Japanese Naval Staff that belligerents employing such methods not only avoided giving any offence to neutrals, but encouraged a readiness on the part of pursued vessels to surrender at the first summons. That it would have been folly for Japan to have conducted her operations on any other lines is a proposition the truth of which is self-evident from an examination of the consequences attending the “sink at sight” methods favoured by the Germans in the World War of 1914-18.

But no amount of courtesy on the part of the Japanese could assuage American anger at the damage which they were indicting upon shipping and overseas trade. Though the tale of losses was, comparatively speaking, insignificant, the American papers loudly demanded to know what the Navy was doing. “Why,” inquired one San Francisco journal, “are enemy warships free to come and go as they list, sinking our shipping right and left, and making even the passage between Hawaii and the mainland unsafe for our transports? Apparently there is nothing to prevent them from sailing right into San Francisco harbour. Have the American people been spending vast sums each year on the upkeep of a Navy, only to be told when war comes that it cannot do its job?” And much more to the like effect.

The truth was, of course, that the Navy was singularly ill-equipped for the task that lay before it. For the protection of American sea-borne trade a large force of cruisers was required, and no such force was available. There were barely enough cruisers to form the scouting division of the battle fleet, whose claims were rightly given precedence over all others. No modern ships could be spared for commerce protection, but the Navy Department so far yielded to newspaper clamour as to furbish up the old armoured cruisers
Charlotte
and
Huntington
, which had been laid up since many years, and commission them for service on the Hawaii-Pacific Coast route. These ships had to be manned with “green” crews, for the mobilisation of the effective fleet had already strained
personnel
resources to breaking point, and at least a year would elapse before the men who had swarmed to the naval recruiting stations at the outbreak of war would be sufficiently trained for duty afloat. For the moment, therefore, American shipping had to be left pretty much to its own devices. Practically no help could be rendered by the Navy. Preparations were made for arming all ocean-going merchantmen out of the reserve of artillery which had been kept in store ever since the World War, but here again the shortage of trained gunners was severely felt. In the absence of suitable escort vessels it was useless to institute any system of convoy, even had the volume of American trade in the Pacific justified such procedure. The Panama Canal being closed, shipping was for the time being practically restricted to coastwise movements, except for the route to Hawaii and Samoa.

CHAPTER VIII

Events in China and Korea — Friction between Japan and Russia — Importance of Japanese trade with Europe not realised by United States Government — Mines laid by Japanese off Hawaii — Another mine-field discovered near San Diego — Distribution of American warships at end of May — Anxiety caused by shortage of trained personnel

HAVING surveyed the situation that developed in the United States during the opening stages of the war, it will be appropriate to bring under review the trend of events in the Far East in the same period. Thanks to the rigorous Japanese censorship — which extended far beyond the confines of Japan, being particularly efficacious in those provinces of China that were under Japanese control — news from the Asiatic side was meagre and unreliable. Judging from the bulletins emanating from Tokyo, the teeming millions of China had made Japan’s cause their own, hailing her as their champion against the white interlopers who had sought to bring the peoples of the East under their domination. So friendly was popular sentiment in China, the bulletins avowed, that the Japanese garrisons in Manchuria were being reduced, and large reinforcements had thus become available for the main army of operations. Neither in Korea nor Formosa, it was added, had any symptoms of unrest appeared. Both colonies were giving proofs of unswerving loyalty to Japan, who was thus left free to devote all her energies to the defeat of her arrogant foe. As for the Japanese people, “their martial fervour remains undiminished,” the world was assured. “‘Victory at all costs’ is the slogan heard on every hand.”

While there was for the moment no means of checking these statements as to the morale of the Japanese masses, it soon became known through other channels that the attitude of China had been grossly misrepresented by the Tokyo bulletins. So far from espousing the Japanese cause, the central Government at Peking was already adopting a policy that bade fair to cause serious embarrassment to Japan. One of its first actions was to place an embargo on the export not only of arms and munitions, but of raw materials susceptible of conversion into munitions of war. Within this category were placed coal, iron ore, and other minerals that were going to Japan in enormous quantities. Had the embargo been effective, it must speedily have crippled Japan’s war effort and compelled her to discontinue the struggle, but since the central Government’s writ did not run in the provinces under Japanese control — which were precisely those richest in mineral resources — the edict could not be enforced. Nevertheless, the fact that it had been issued afforded clear proof of China’s latent hostility to her powerful neighbour.

When the embargo was ignored, Peking addressed a Note to the Powers, charging Japan with violation of Chinese neutrality and reserving the right to take counter-measures. And so, even at this early stage, Japan had to reckon with the possibility of serious trouble in a quarter where she had interests of vital importance. As we have seen, so far from reducing her garrisons there, she had found it expedient to reinforce them. Nor was the ill-will of China limited to diplomatic protests, for it was well known that Chinese emissaries with ample funds at their disposal were behind the insurgents in Korea, where the whole country seemed to be ripe for revolt.

Tokyo had a further cause for anxiety in the attitude of Russia, whose Government was already displaying a tendency to fish in troubled water. Of the many controversial issues between Japan and Russia, that of Sakhalin had become most acute. For ten years the northern, or Russian, half of this island had been held by the Japanese, who had gone there in April, 1920, as a reprisal for the massacre of seven hundred of their nationals by Bolshevik partisans at Nikolaievsk. The subsequent discovery of rich oil-fields in the territory thus seized made Japan very loath to part with it, and all Russia’s efforts to recover her property had proved abortive. The agreement signed in January, 1925, which aimed at composing these differences, had but a brief duration, being denounced by Russia two years later on the ground of alleged Japanese violation.

Now, however, Japan’s preoccupation with the war gave the Soviet rulers the opportunity for which they had been waiting. Barely a month after the outbreak of hostilities a Note was addressed to Tokyo, demanding not only the immediate and complete evacuation of Northern Sakhalin, but a recognition of Russian rights over the Chinese Eastern Railway in Manchuria, to which Japan had hitherto refused so much as to listen. It will be recalled that in 1924, during one of the chronic civil wars which had been the curse of China ever since the revolution of 1912, the Russians had contrived to regain their former dominating influence in the management of the Chinese Eastern Railway as the price of their support of Chang Tsolin, the Manchurian Tu-chun, in his victorious campaign against his rival, Wu Pei-fu. Though this control remained effective locally, the retrocession of the railroad had never been recognised
de
jure
by any power other than China. Although not an ultimatum, the Note from Moscow was couched in somewhat peremptory terms, and arriving at a time when persistent reports of big military concentrations on the Manchurian frontier were current, it alarmed the Japanese Government more than they cared to admit. Their interest lay in keeping Russia neutral at almost any price, yet this, it appeared, would necessitate bitter sacrifices entailing more than a mere loss of prestige.

By restoring Northern Sakhalin to its former owners, Japan would lose what had become one of her principal reservoirs of oil. As it was, the stocks of this precious fuel were none too large, and the naval authorities were already making anxious search for new sources of supply, which, of course, were strictly limited. Research work had for some time been in progress at the Fushun colliery, in Southern Manchuria, in the hope of producing fresh reserves of crude oil by means of dry distillation from shale. High hopes had been founded on this source; but after lengthy experiments had been carried out at considerable expense, it was found that only meagre supplies of oil of inferior quality could be obtained, at a cost out of proportion to their value. Boring for oil in Formosa, though less disappointing, did not yield petroleum in quantities adequate to the needs of the country in war-time. The only other source which promised well was a new area which Japanese experts had located in the island of Mindanao, in the Southern Philippines. The chief objection to this oil-field was its distance from a convenient port, as it was situated very near the centre of the island, which has an area of close on 37,000 square miles.

As a natural consequence, the Chief of the Naval Staff entered a weighty protest against any hasty acceptance of the Russian demands, emphasising that Japan’s renunciation of the Sakhalin oil-fields would be likely to lose her the war. Yet it was only too clear that the ultimate retrocession of this otherwise unimportant territory was but one, and that not the greatest, of the sacrifices which Japan would be called upon to make if she wished to assure the neutrality of her formidable neighbour. To provoke Russian enmity at this juncture was clearly madness. None knew better than the statesmen of Japan that the Imperialist traditions of the Tsarist regime had survived the revolution of 1917, and that Russia still turned covetous eyes on the rich lands of Manchuria and Mongolia, which she was only too eager to bring under her sway should circumstances afford her the opportunity. Sooner or later, as most Japanese believed, another war would have to be fought with Russia for the control of China. Since 1904, when Japan had risked her very existence by challenging the mighty colossus of the North because she regarded the extirpation of Muscovite influence in Manchuria as vital to the future safety of the Empire, her own stake in China had become immeasurably greater — so great, indeed, that it was now one of the main sources of her national strength and prosperity. Ostensibly, at least, the present war was being waged to resist American encroachment on this preserve. But although Russia was recognised as a potential enemy, this was certainly not the time to provoke a clash with her. It was of the first importance that she should be placated until the present struggle had been brought to a conclusion.

The Naval Staff was accordingly informed by the Foreign Office that negotiations for the return of Northern Sakhalin were about to be set in train, but that every effort would be made to prolong them. As for the Russian claims in regard to the Chinese Eastern Railway — which involved nothing less than the control of this line from the western Manchurian frontier to the Ussuri railway at Nikolsk — these were at once accepted “in principle” by Japan, who suggested the holding of a conference at Chita to settle the details. Doubtless she hoped that before the proceedings had committed her to any definite pledge, a fortunate turn in the tide of war would enable her to drop the mask of conciliation and show a defiant front to Russia. Such, then, were the grave political embarrassments with which Japan had to contend almost at the beginning of her duel with the United States. Already she was finding it needful to walk warily in her dealings with China and Russia, and it was fairly obvious that nothing but a succession of brilliant strokes against her immediate antagonist would clear the political horizon of the ominous clouds that were gathering.

The effect upon Japanese trade of the cessation of intercourse with the United States was not long in making itself felt, and at the outset some important industries were threatened with semi-paralysis from this cause. Before the war Japan probably imported nearly half her supplies of raw cotton (an indispensable material for the manufacture of munitions) from the States, and this shortage had now to be made good from other sources, often at greatly enhanced prices. A similar situation existed to some extent with regard to iron and steel, to say nothing of petroleum. All these products were of inestimable value in war time. Two of Japan’s principal exports, silk and cotton goods, were also seriously threatened, since not only had the United States been one of her best customers for these, but the sudden shortage in the supply of raw cotton, accentuated by the commandeering of stocks for munition purposes, forced many industrial undertakings to work short time. Such a contingency had been foretold in pre-war days by certain Japanese publicists, despite the unpopularity of such predictions, but for some time it looked as though they had under-estimated the effect upon Japanese trade of a war with her trans-Pacific neighbour.

However, after the first few months the inexorable laws of demand and supply asserted themselves, and trade found its way by devious channels through the artificial obstacles imposed by a state of war. Neutrals largely benefited, as each of the warring nations had good reason to know by the high prices they were compelled to pay for many necessaries of life. It is to be doubted whether they realised that no small proportion of these necessaries came from the enemy in the first place, though purporting to be of neutral origin.

To repair the immediate deficiencies in raw materials, and at the same time build up a reserve of munitions equal to any conceivable demand, all available Japanese tonnage was quickly thrown into the trade with China, Australia, India, South Africa, and Europe, which for some considerable while was not interfered with by America’s armed forces at sea. But American superiority in the field of finance soon began to tell, and Japan found that not only had she to pay exorbitant and ever-rising prices for many of her most pressing needs, but in some markets supplies were practically unobtainable, having been cornered by her opponent. Matters would have been much worse for Japan had not her Government, apprehending some such
impasse
, promptly closed a number of huge forward contracts for such vital products as rice, cotton, wool, copper, iron, oil, etc. Even as it was, the Japanese public did not take kindly to intermittent scarcity combined with soaring prices; and though something was done to cheek profiteering by means of a system of Government control, it was soon apparent that more energetic steps would have to be adopted if the morale of the nation were to be preserved.

Neither combatant, it must be realised, was in an advantageous position to make any sustained attack upon the commerce of the other, owing to the immense distance separating them and the mutual lack of bases.

It is true that at the outbreak of war the United States maintained in the Mediterranean a squadron, comprising the modern cruiser
Trenton
and a number of destroyers; but on the outbreak of war this force was recalled to home waters, in accordance with prearranged plans for fleet mobilisation. Not until much later does it seem to have occurred to anyone in authority that it would have been a far sounder policy to have retained and reinforced this squadron with the object of interrupting the very important Japanese trade with Europe. The principal Japanese steamship line, the Nippon Yusen Kaisha, had the bulk of its large fleet of one hundred vessels engaged on regular voyages between Japan and European ports, a number that was greatly augmented when the cessation of trade with the United States released a vast supply of fresh tonnage. It is now plain that serious interference with her Occidental traffic would have forced Japan into taking such action as would inevitably have led to an earlier decision. But seaborne trade not being a matter of vital concern to the United States, American strategists were slow to perceive that to Japan (no longer a self-supporting country, especially in time of war) it constituted one of her main arteries, which it should have been her adversary’s first aim to sever. Only when disaster in other quarters had compelled a change in the naval strategy of the conflict, was a more correct appreciation of the needs of the situation brought home to those Americans who had hitherto failed to grasp it.