Great Pacific War: A History of the American-Japanese Campaign of 1931-33 (32 page)

Scarcely had the reverberations of that terrific blast died away ere the American guns were seeking a new victim. It was now the turn of the
Mutsu
to feel their concentrated fire. An amorphous shadow in the deepening night, she steamed doggedly ahead, jets of flame from her guns alternating with the golden-red splash of shell as they detonated against her armour or flimsier topworks. And then there happened a thing so strange, so inexplicable, that even the Japanese historians differ as to its meaning. Let us quote Commander Elmer, of the
Tennessee
, whose narrative of the battle,
[11]
distinguished as it is by a cool, objective appraisal of every incident, is of greater value for documentary purposes than the more dramatic versions penned by some of his colleagues.

At 8.25 p.m. the
Kaga
having previously blown up, our division was hotly engaged with the
Mutsu
and
Nagato
, while some of the van ships were already reaching out at Japanese battleships still further ahead, believed to be of the
Fuso
class. Suddenly our spotters reported the
Mutsu
to have turned eight points to the right, which of course
meant that she was coming straight at us. Ships sometimes yaw in this way when their steering-gear is hit, but they are always brought back to their proper course by manoeuvring the propellers. As the enemy battleship now presented her bows to us, we naturally raked her, our gunners firing more rapidly than I had believed possible. Through my periscope I saw her simply smothered with big-calibre shell, and expected every instant to see her turn again to resume her original line of direction. But to my astonishment she came steadily on, and though her head had pointed first to our van, the progressive advance of our line was such that if she held on her present course she would intersect our division just astern of the
Tennessee
. Could it be that her officers, believing themselves doomed, had decided to commit hara-kiri on the grand scale? As the range closed to 12,000, then to 11,000, and even to 10,000 yards, we fired and fired till the guns grew hot and the paint on their chases rose up in blisters. But though the target was now so conspicuous, and coming nearer every moment, I am afraid the unusual sight of a big battleship charging headlong at us upset the nerves of the gunners, not only in our ship, but in the whole fleet, for I
observed that many of the salvos were going wide. The
Mutsu
herself shot with wonderful accuracy from her six remaining guns. Since the
Colorado
had fallen out, our fleet had been led by the flagship,
West Virginia
, and I saw this vessel hit by salvo after salvo from the onrushing enemy, who seemed resolved to dash right through our line. Had anyone told me beforehand that even the largest battleship could endure the converging fire of more than a hundred big guns at a range of only five miles without being sunk outright, I should have laughed at him. Yet this was the very ordeal that the
Mutsu
was now enduring, and she was still above water.

But as she came nearer and yet nearer, I could see her, as it were, disintegrating under the rain of sledgehammer blows. Her massive heptapod foremast was a tangle of twisted steel. The first funnel had vanished, while the second stack, riddled like a colander, was tilting sideways at an acute angle. Almost every second some piece of
débris
flew into the air: now it was a great fragment of deck plating or casemate armour, then a boat derrick, and next a whirling mass of objects that may have been men. At this point-blank range our shells seemed to be tearing through the ship from end to end. And still the
Mutsu
came on. But now her bows were so deep in the water that shells began to smash through the forecastle deck and plunge into the machinery. At 8.40 p.m., the range being then down to 7,000 yards, the Japanese battleship had stopped and was drifting broadside on to us. Her people had no intention of surrendering, for two guns still kept up a slow fire, so there was nothing for it but to finish her off. We gave her two more salvos, and when last I saw her she was heeling over at 35 degrees, clearly on the point of sinking. Our airmen, who now came up, claim to have sunk her with their torpedoes, but it was really our guns that had done the work.

It was now close on 9 p.m. If in this running fight the Japanese had lost two of their finest battleships, they had succeeded in inflicting heavy damage on their pursuers. The flagship
West
Virginia
, hit a dozen times by 16-inch shell at close range, was making water rapidly. Two turrets were disabled, and there were more than 400 casualties, including the Commander-in-Chief, who had been knocked senseless by a splinter of steel. Only by getting all the pumps to work could the flow of water into the forward compartments be checked. The
Colorado
, also, had ceased to be effective and had fallen miles astern. The
Maryland
was intact so far as fighting equipment went, but many of her executives had been killed. Few of the remaining ships had escaped hits of a more or less serious character, and barely half-a-dozen were in a condition to maintain their full speed.

But Vice-Admiral McArthur, upon whom the command had devolved when Admiral Templeton was struck down, could not bring himself to abandon the chase without making one more effort. Straightening out his depleted line, he steamed on in his flagship, the
California
, at eighteen knots, firing at such enemy ships as were still visible in the growing darkness. At the same time he ordered half the available airplanes from the carriers to attack the head of the enemy columns with torpedo and bomb. But at this juncture the Japanese played their last card. Just as the leading American ships had reopened on the
Nagato
, a swarm of destroyers bore down upon them in two columns, to port and starboard respectively. They were immediately fired on by the battleships and cruisers, but the rush was not stopped until they had got within range. Admiral McArthur turned his line towards the approaching torpedoes, most of which passed harmlessly through; but the cruisers
Albany
and
Portland
were hit, and another torpedo got home on the battleship
Oklahoma
. Then the Japanese destroyers found themselves assailed by a squadron of American boats, and those that broke away from the deadly grapple had to steam back through waters that were lashed into foam by the tempest of shell. Forty boats began the attack, and eighteen returned. But their devoted valour saved the remnants of the Japanese fleet, for the American air attack, delivered a few minutes before, had been only partially successful.

The Japanese ships, when located, were so shrouded in smoke as to be all but invisible, and although magnesium flares were dropped to illumine the scene, torpedoes and bombs had to be launched more or less at random. The only vessel badly hit was the battle-cruiser
Kirishima
, which besides being twice torpedoed was deluged with phosphorus gas. This ship struggled gamely on for a time, but eventually had to be beached off the coast of Mindanao, where she became a total wreck.

It was now 9.30 p.m. The night was dark, and a falling glass presaged a storm. Touch with the enemy had been lost, and with so many ships disabled, Admiral McArthur judged it useless to continue the pursuit. While the full extent of the Japanese losses could not be determined, they were known to be severe. If the battle had been rather less decisive than had been hoped for, it had certainly eliminated the Japanese fleet as a commanding factor in the situation — at least for some months to come. When the chase was abandoned, the American force found itself, roughly, 450 miles to the north-west of the Pelews, the nearest friendly base. For Angaur, therefore, a course was set, the disabled ships being taken in tow by their more fortunate consorts. Heavy weather was encountered towards midnight. Before long the cruiser
Albany
became waterlogged and had to be scuttled, Rear-Admiral Appleton transferring his flag to the
Los
Angeles
. Five destroyers injured in the battle were also sunk when it became impossible to take them any further. Other vessels, including the
West
Virginia
and the
New
Mexico
, were only kept afloat by the indefatigable exertions of their
personnel
, and at more than one period during that trying voyage it seemed as if one or both of these great ships were doomed.

But if the bad weather was a misfortune in one way, it was an undoubted boon in another, for it saved the fleet from attack by enemy submarines. Twice in the night and once on the following day the submarine alarm was given, but if torpedoes were fired none took effect. At 5 a.m. on the 21st a tragic incident occurred. In the grey light of dawn a big submarine was observed by the American destroyers, which at once opened fire, and when the craft had disappeared dropped many depth charges, two of which took effect. The submarine then emerged again for a few moments, and was identified as an American boat, the
V
6
; but before anything could be done, her shattered hull plunged to the bottom. She had got out of her station during the night and was trying to regain it when mistaken for an enemy. Only one officer and three men were saved, out of a company of eighty.

The bulk of the fleet reached Angaur about noon on the 22d, having taken nearly forty hours to cover a distance of 450 miles, and some of the more badly damaged units did not arrive till much later. Thanks to the facilities now available at Angaur, it was possible to begin emergency repairs without delay. Within a fortnight all the battleships except the
West
Virginia
were able to sail for Hawaii. While the fleet had lain at Angaur, Japanese airplanes from Mindanao had attempted to raid it, but the American air patrol proved too strong, and no enemy machine reached the ships.

The result of a great naval battle is not to be measured solely by a comparison of respective losses. In the Jutland action, fought during the World War, the British were strategically the victors, though their casualties in ships and men far outweighed those of the German fleet. On the present occasion, however, there was no question as to which side had triumphed, both tactically and strategically. With a much smaller force at their disposal, the Japanese had sustained by far the heavier loss. Out of a total of twelve capital ships, no fewer than five had been accounted for —
Kaga
,
Mutsu
,
Kongo
,
Haruna
, and
Kirishima
. Moreover, all of the seven remaining vessels had been damaged to an extent that would keep them in dock for a considerable period. Losses among the cruisers and destroyers had also been severe. As an effective unit the Japanese battle fleet had ceased to exist. On the American side, only two big ships had gone —
Florida
and
Wyoming
, neither of the most powerful type. Fourteen battleships survived, with two in reserve in the United States. Consequently, when its wounds had been healed, the American fleet could take the sea with a strength of sixteen battleships. Three cruisers had been sunk, together with twenty-three destroyers, but these gaps would speedily be filled by new craft approaching completion. Thus from every point of view the victory had been overwhelming and decisive. It came as a fitting climax to the well-planned scheme of strategy mapped out by the Bureau of Operations, of which, as is now universally known, Rear-Admiral Harper was the guiding genius. The United States had at length gained command of the sea in the main theatre of war. It only remained to exploit this advantage by putting such pressure on Japan as would compel her to yield to the inevitable.

CHAPTER XXI

Hopeless position confronting Japanese Government — Chinese armies overrun Manchuria — Sakhalin surrendered to Russia — Guam becomes American again — American armies effect landings in Luzon — Defeat of Japanese Army of Occupation and fall of Manila — Bloodless air raid on Tokyo followed by an armistice — Terms of peace — A war which benefited neither combatant

UPON the Japanese Government and nation the tidings of this great naval disaster fell as a veritable thunderclap. The leaders of the Opposition now demanded the resignation of the Cabinet on the score of incompetence; the naval members of the War Council bitterly reproached their military
confrères
with having deliberately thrown away all chance of victory in defiance of the advice of those who had pointed out the danger; while the public, on the full implication of the defeat being explained to them in the newspapers, clamoured for the heads of those who had brought the country’s affairs to such an evil pass.

Other misfortunes came thick and fast. On the outbreak of war with China, Japan had endeavoured to maintain her ascendency by the occupation of certain points of strategical importance; but these garrisons were gradually isolated by General Wang Tsu’s forces and compelled to surrender or withdraw. Nor was this the end. Having freed China proper from the domination of the hated foreigner, the Celestial Government directed its energies to Inner Mongolia, from which territory Japanese interests also found themselves excluded. Following upon this, General Wang Tsu in person led his armies across the Manchurian frontier at Chinwangtao during the last days of October. On finding his sway challenged, Li Ping-hui, already uneasy, flew to arms, but again he proved himself no match for the redoubtable Wang. Though he brought his best troops into the field, regardless of a renewed insurrection which promptly burst into flame in Northern Manchuria, they only served to make his fall more striking. In a pitched battle north of Newchwang, Li’s soldiers were crushingly defeated, and those who did not seek safety in flight eagerly proffered their allegiance to the new power. Li himself, who had imprudently endeavoured to rally his flying forces, found himself made prisoner by his own men and led before Wang as a hostage. The Chinese Government, on the advice of their general (who could afford to be magnanimous), contented themselves with exiling Li to a distant province, where he might meditate on the futility of human ambition.

To make matters worse, a division of Japanese troops which had been hurrying to the support of their ally arrived too late to save the situation, and found itself in a hostile country, enveloped on all sides by superior Chinese forces, estimated at nearly 200,000 bayonets. After a gallant attempt to cut its way through to the coast, this force was swamped by sheer weight of numbers, and the remnant surrendered after exhausting its ammunition. Wang Tsu, quick as ever to follow up an advantage, moved with the bulk of his forces along the railroad into the Kwangtung Peninsula, bent on investing the Japanese base at Riojun (Port Arthur) before reinforcements could be thrown in. Dairen, the commercial port which the Chinese call Talien-wan and the Russians Dalnii, could offer no effective resistance, and became the headquarters of the Chinese army and siege train. For. the Japanese Government to assemble sufficient strength to relieve Riojun was impossible without stripping Korea of its army of occupation, a step which in the unsettled state of that country was clearly out of the question. In view of the increasing unrest in Japan itself, which had already led to some ugly rioting in the industrial centres, the Government hesitated to dispatch a relief expedition from home — more especially since, with the command of the sea wrested from them, the Naval Staff refused to take any responsibility for the safety of transports on the short voyage from Sasebo to the Yellow Sea.

Feeling itself tottering, the Cabinet over which Prince Kawamura still presided seems to have determined on a policy of inaction. The depleted Japanese battle fleet under Admiral Hiraga, after executing temporary repairs at Cavite, had been withdrawn to Yokosuka, where it remained completely idle for the rest of the war. To guard the Philippines a few small cruisers and other light forces remained in the vicinity of Manila, but Rear-Admiral Uyehara, the flag officer in command, was given strict orders to remain on the defensive — an attitude which does not encourage enterprise, and which on this occasion did nothing to hinder further loss of territory. Although for some weeks the Japanese Army of the Philippines — amounting to about 100,000 men, seventy-five per cent of whom were in the island of Luzon — was left unmolested except by blockade, this was only because the first concern of the Americans was to reduce Guam. The defenders of that base, with their battle fleet swept from the board, can have entertained no hope of relief; but like true Japanese, they put up a strenuous fight. Their resistance was gradually worn down by the American tactics, which combined a steady long-range bombardment with frequent gas-bomb attacks from the air; and on December 8 the Stars and Stripes again floated over the island. No American naval units sustained any important damage during this operation.

Manila Bay being closely blockaded by a squadron comprising a dozen cruisers and six divisions of destroyers, the problem of landing troops for the reconquest of the Philippines had to be faced. Taking a leaf from their opponents’ book in the operations of March, 1931, the American High Command sought to mislead the enemy. This was rendered easier by the superiority of the American air force, which subsequent to the attempted raid on Truk from Mindanao had gained a complete ascendency over the Japanese airplanes. Repeated feints were made at disembarkation, all on the east coast of Luzon, with the result that large Japanese forces were concentrated in the neighbourhood of Albay and around Dilasac Bay. This had an important influence on the result of the real landing, which was made near Lauag, in the north-west of the island, on December 28. The casualties were heavy, as a Japanese battalion which was rushed to the spot fought almost to the last man in its endeavours to prevent the Americans gaining a footing. But its sacrifice proved vain, for by the time Japanese reinforcements reached Lauag, the invaders had established too strong a hold to be driven out. More and more transports discharged their soldiers and munitions under cover of gunfire from the warships, until the offensive could be taken and an advance made to the southward, the right flank of the American army being protected by cruisers and destroyers.

The Japanese continued to fight a stubborn rearguard action during the next forty-eight hours, until they reached a strong line of carefully prepared entrenchments south of Lingayen, behind which the main Japanese army, nearly 50,000 strong, seems to have been massed. But in the meantime a second landing had been effected near Dilasac Bay, which the Japanese had neglected to observe so closely since the real menace had materialised at Lauag. The second army of invasion made a forced march across the island, brushing aside every obstacle which its surprised opponents sought to interpose, and arrived in the vicinity of Lingayen in time to take part in the battle which now developed. The Japanese Commander-in-Chief, General Kimura, finding this new enemy threatening to outflank him, swung round his right in an attempt to preserve his position, his plan apparently being to hold up one United States army with a comparatively weak detachment while he concentrated in superior numbers on the other invader. But the efficient American air scouts were quick to detect this manoeuvre, and General Kimura soon found himself committed to a fierce battle on both fronts, with no prospect of reinforcement should the tide turn against him. In numbers the combatants differed but slightly, but the American forces derived great assistance from their bombing airplanes, whereas every machine the Japanese sent up was instantly overwhelmed by a superior concentration.

Such a conflict could have but one end. Kimura himself managed to secure his retreat to Manila with some 15,000 men, but the bulk of his army was surrounded and forced to capitulate, though not until nearly half its fighting strength was
hors
de
combat
. The American casualties were also severe, exceeding 11,000, and would have been much heavier but for the assistance rendered by the air squadrons, the gas bombs from which proved particularly effective. It was, in fact, the most desperately fought land engagement of the whole war, and both nations have reason to feel proud of their share in it. Officially known as the Battle of Lingayen, a monument is now being erected at a spot some distance to the south of that town to mark where the carnage was heaviest. The funds for this cenotaph have been jointly contributed by American and Japanese members of a society which has been formed for the promotion of a better understanding between the two countries.

On the night following the battle, the Japanese cruisers and destroyers in Manila Bay made an attempt to break through the American cordon of blockade. The
Abukuma
,
Yubari
, and at least three destroyers made good their escape. The others were driven back, two destroyers being sunk in a sharp action, during which the U.S.S.
Kansas
City
was torpedoed and had to be abandoned.

A few days later, the remaining vessels were destroyed, by order of Rear-Admiral Uyehara, with methodical thoroughness, it being apparent that Manila could not long hold out against the superior forces that were being concentrated against it. The very complete way in which these warships were rendered unfit for further service affords an interesting comparison with the ineffective scuttling of the Russian Fleet at Port Arthur before the surrender in 1905.

Manila capitulated on January 8, 1933. General Kimura and his garrison were allowed to return to Japan on their parole not to take any further part in the war. This arrangement has been harshly criticised in some quarters, but it should be widely known by now that General Clay, who was in chief command of the American military forces in Luzon, had private orders to avoid useless bloodshed in view of the anticipated early cessation of hostilities. Moreover, the news of the Manila garrison’s surrender on these lenient terms undoubtedly hastened the reduction of isolated Japanese detachments in other parts of the group, since the majority of the soldiers were heartily sick of the struggle and only too anxious to get back to their homes.

By this time it was evident to all that the war was approaching its end. China, the country for whose control Japan had risked so much, was now a completely independent power, and Korea showed every promise of following this example if outside aid were forthcoming. Sakhalin had been surrendered in its entirety to Russia in order to avoid bringing a fresh adversary into the field; and a new Cabinet of pronounced democratic tendencies had replaced that of Prince Kawamura in Tokyo. Since the defeat of the Japanese fleet at Yap had given American cruisers a free hand to prey upon enemy commerce, the shortage of commodities had now become more marked, and this circumstance, coinciding with an acute financial crisis, was reducing the island Empire to desperate straits.

Credit must be given to the Officer Commanding the United States Flying Squadron (Rear-Admiral Symonds) for an adroit move which, made as it was just at the psychological moment, is known to have had a decisive moral effect. The Flying Squadron, consisting of the airplane carriers
Alaska
,
Curtiss
,
Lexington
,
Saratoga
, and
Montauk
, formed part of the United States fleet which was cruising off the Pacific coast of Japan during the last week of January, 1933, with the object of enticing the enemy out of Yokosuka. On the night of January 30, fifty airplanes were sent to make a demonstration flight above Tokyo, upon which city a number of bombs were dropped. These missiles were coated with luminous paint, and although attached to parachutes which arrested the violence of their descent, they created a panic in the thronged streets of the capital. But when it was seen that none of the bombs exploded, curiosity soon overcame alarm, and the strange projectiles were carefully examined. It was then discovered that each contained a bundle of leaflets printed in Japanese, explaining that rather than waste more lives in a futile quarrel, the American nation preferred to appeal to the good sense of the Japanese people, with whom they had no real grounds for dissension. Attention was drawn to the fact that China, the nominal cause of the war, was now managing her own affairs without external assistance. Stress was also laid on the argument that two nations living on opposite sides of the greatest ocean in the world would be far better employed in peaceful trading than in reciprocal homicide. Though many of these “bombs” were confiscated by the police, thousands of the leaflets fell into the hands of the people.

Broadcast in this novel way, such propaganda could not fail to make a strong appeal to the war-weary Japanese masses, whose demand for peace became so insistent that the Government was forthwith constrained to sue for an armistice. This request was acceded to by the United States on February 4, a complete truce being observed by both belligerents until the Treaty of Peace was signed at Shanghai on May 15,1933. The terms of this covenant are too well known to call for repetition at any length. Briefly, they included the surrender by Japan of her mandate over the ex-German Pacific islands north of the Equator, and the assumption by the United States of responsibility for their future administration. Both countries formally undertook to abstain from any endeavours to exercise political or economical control over China or her contiguous territories, and both agreed to consult together with a view to joint action against any third Power that might seek to acquire such control in the future. Territory which had changed hands during the war was to remain
in
statu
quo
. This clause applied, in reality, only to the United States, which had forcibly recovered all her original possessions in the Western Pacific, besides having seized the Caroline, Pelew, Mariana, and Marshall islands; but its insertion proved a salve to Japan’s dignity. While no indemnity was demanded by the United States, a separate protocol embodied provisions for commercial reciprocity which have already yielded beneficial results to both the signatory Powers.