Chapter 11

By noon all the armored domes of the Port Townsend batteries had been destroyed and one gun after another had ceased firing. The horizontal armor-plates, too, which protected the disappearing gun-carriages belonging to the huge guns of the other forts, had not been able to withstand the masses of steel which came down almost perpendicularly from above them. One single well-aimed shot had usually sufficed to cripple the complicated mechanism and once that was injured, it was impossible to bring the gun back into position for firing. The concrete roofs of the ammunition rooms and barracks were shot to pieces and the traverses were reduced to rubbish heaps by the bursting of the numerous shells of the enemy. And all that was finally left round the tattered Stars and Stripes was a little group of heavily wounded gunners, performing their duty to the bitter end, and these heroes were honored by the enemy by being permitted to keep their arms. They were sent by steamer from Seattle to the Canadian Naval Station at Esquimault on the seventh of May, and their arrival inspired the populace to stormy demonstrations against the Japanese, this being the first outward expression of Canadian sympathy for the United States. The Canadians felt that the time had come for all white men to join hands against the common danger, and the policy of the Court of St. James soon became intensely unpopular throughout Canada. What did Canada care about what was considered the proper policy in London, when here at their very door necessity pressed hard on their heels, and the noise of war from across the border sounded a shrill Mene Tekel in the white man's ear?

* * * * *

There were therefore no less than one hundred and seventy thousand Japanese soldiers on American soil on Tuesday morning, May ninth. In the north, the line of outposts ran along the eastern border of the States of Washington and Oregon and continued through the southern portion of Idaho, always keeping several miles to the east of the tracks of the Oregon Short Line, which thus formed an excellent line of communication behind the enemy's front. At Granger, the junction of the Oregon Short Line and the Union Pacific, the Japanese reached their easternmost bastion, and here they dug trenches, which were soon fortified by means of heavy artillery. From here their line ran southward along the Wasatch Mountains, crossed the great Colorado plateau and then continued along the high section of Arizona, reaching the Mexican boundary by way of Fort Bowie.

Only in the south and in the extreme north did railroads in any respectable number lead up to the Japanese front. In the center, however, the roads by way of which an American assault could be made, namely the Union Pacific at Granger, the Denver and Rio Grande at Grand Junction, and further south the Atcheson, Topeka & Santa Fé, approached the Japanese positions at right angles, and at these points captive balloons and several air-ships kept constant watch toward the east, so that there was no possibility of an American surprise. In the north strong field fortifications along the border-line of Washington and Idaho furnished sufficient protection, and in the south the sunbaked sandy deserts of New Mexico served the same purpose. Then, too, the almost unbroken railway connection between the north and the south allowed the enemy to transport his reserves at a moment's notice to any point of danger, and the Japs were clever enough not to leave their unique position to push further eastward. Any advance of large bodies of troops would have weakened all the manifold advantages of this position, and besides the Japanese numbers were not considerable enough to warrant an unnecessary division of forces.

And what had we in the way of troops to oppose this hostile invasion? Our regular army consisted, on paper, of sixty thousand men. Fifteen thousand of these had been stationed in the Pacific States, composed principally of the garrisons of the coast forts; all of these without exception were, by Monday morning, in the hands of the Japanese. This at once reduced the strength of our regular army to forty-five thousand men. Of this number eighteen thousand were in the Philippines and, although they were not aware of it, they had to all intents and purposes been placed _hors de combat_, both at Mindanao and in the fortifications of Manila. Besides these the two regiments on the way from San Francisco to Manila and the garrison of Pearl Harbor in the Hawaiian Islands, could be similarly deducted. It will be seen, therefore, that, only twenty-five thousand men of our regular army were available, and these were scattered over the entire country: some were in the numerous prairie-forts, others on the Atlantic coast, still others in Cuba and in Porto Rico. Thus twenty-five thousand men were pitted against a force not only seven times as large, but one that was augmented hourly by hundreds of newcomers. On Monday the President had called out the organized militia and on the following day he sent a special message to Congress recommending the formation of a volunteer army. The calls to arms were posted in the form of huge placards at all the street-corners and at the entrances to the speedily organized recruiting-offices. In this way it was possible, to be sure, within a few months to raise an army equal to that of the enemy so far as mere numbers were concerned, and the American citizen could be relied upon. But where were the leaders, where was the entire organization of the transport, of the commissariat, of the ambulance corps--we possessed no military train-corps at all--and most important of all, where were the arms to come from?

The arsenals and ammunition-depots in the Pacific States were in the hands of the enemy, the cannon of our far western field-artillery depots had aided in forming Japanese batteries, and the Japanese flag was waving above our heavy coast guns. The terrible truth that we were for the present absolutely helpless before the enemy had a thoroughly disheartening effect on all classes of the population as soon as it was clearly recognized. In impotent rage at this condition of utter helplessness and in their eagerness to be revenged on the all-powerful enemy, men hurried to the recruiting-offices in large numbers, and the lists for the volunteer regiments were soon covered with signatures. The citizens of the country dropped the plow, stood their tools in the corner and laid their pens away; the clattering typewriters became silent, and in the offices of the sky-scrapers business came to a stand-still. Only in the factories where war materials were manufactured did great activity reign.

For the present there was at least one dim hope left, namely the fleet. But where was the fleet? After our battle-fleet had crossed the Pacific to Australia and Eastern Asia, it returned to the Atlantic, while a squadron of twelve battleships and four armored cruisers was sent under Admiral Perry to the west coast and stationed there, with headquarters at San Francisco. To these ships must be added the regular Pacific squadron and Philippine squadron. The remaining ships of our fleet were in Atlantic waters.

That was the fatal mistake committed in the year of our Lord 1909. In vain, all in vain, had been the oft-repeated warning that in face of the menacing Japanese danger the United States navy should be kept together, either in the west or in the east. Only when concentrated, only in the condition in which it was taken through the Straits of Magellan by Admiral Evans, was our fleet absolutely superior to the Japanese. Every dispersal, every separation of single divisions was bound to prove fatal. Article upon article and pamphlet upon pamphlet were written anent the splitting-up of our navy! And yet what a multitude of entirely different and mutually exclusive tasks were set her at one and the same time! Manila was to be protected, Pearl Harbor was to have a naval station, the Pacific coast was to be protected, and there was to be a reserve fleet off the eastern coast.

And yet it was perfectly clear that any part of the fleet which happened to be stationed at Manila or Hawaii would be lost to the Americans immediately on the outbreak of hostilities. But we deluded ourselves with the idea that Japan would not dare send her ships across the Pacific in the face of our little Philippine squadron, whereas not even a large squadron stationed at Manila would have hindered the Japanese from attacking us. Even such a squadron they could easily have destroyed with a detachment of equal strength, without in any way hindering their advance against our western shores, while the idea of attempting to protect an isolated colony with a few ships against a great sea-power was perfectly ridiculous. The strong coast fortifications and a division of submarines--the two stationed there at the time, however, were really not fit for use--would have sufficed for the defense of Manila, and anything beyond that simply meant an unnecessary sacrifice of forces which might be far more useful elsewhere.

After our fleet had been divided between the east and the west, both the Pacific fleet and the reserve Atlantic fleet were individually far inferior to the Japanese fleet. The maintenance of a fleet in the Pacific as well as of one in the Atlantic was a fatal luxury. It was superfluous to keep on tap a whole division of ships in our Atlantic harbors merely posing as maritime ornaments before the eyes of Europe or at the most coming in handy for an imposing demonstration against a refractory South-American Republic. All this could have been done just as well with a few cruisers. English money and Japanese intrigues, it is true, succeeded in always keeping the Venezuelan wound open, so that we were constantly obliged to steal furtive glances at that corner of the world, one that had caused us so much political vexation. Matters had indeed reached a sorry pass if our political prestige was so shaky, that it was made to depend on Mr. Castro's valuation of the forces at the disposal of the United States!

In consideration of the many unforeseen delays that had occurred in the work of digging the Panama Canal, there was only one policy for us to adopt until its completion, and that was to keep our fleet together and either to concentrate it in the Pacific and thus deter the enemy from attacking our coasts, regardless of what might be thought of our action in Tokio, or to keep only a few cruisers in the Pacific, as formerly, and to concentrate the fleet in the Atlantic, so as to be able to attack the enemy from the rear with the full force of our naval power. But these amateur commissioners of the public safety who wished to have an imposing squadron on view wherever our flag floated--as if the Stars and Stripes were a signal of distress instead of a token of strength--condemned our fleet to utter helplessness. In 1908, when there was no mistaking the danger, we, the American people, one of the richest and most energetic nations of the world, nevertheless allowed ourselves in the course of the debate on the naval appropriations to be frightened by Senator Maine's threat of a deficit of a few dollars in our budget, should the sums that were absolutely needed in case our fleet was to fulfill the most immediate national tasks be voted. This was the short-sighted policy of a narrow-minded politician who, when a country's fate is hanging in the balance, complains only of the costs. It was most assuredly a short-sighted policy, and we were compelled to pay dearly for it.

The voyage of our fleet around South America had shown the world that the value of a navy is not impaired because a few drunken sailors occasionally forget to return to their ship when in port: on the contrary, foreign critics had been obliged to admit that our navy in point of equipment and of crews was second to none. And lo and behold, this remarkable exhibition of power--the only sensible idea evolved by our navy department in years--is followed by the insane dispersal of our ships to so many different stations.

How foolish had it been, furthermore, to boast as we did about having kept up communication with Washington by wireless during the whole of our journey around South America. Had not the experience at Trinidad, where a wireless message intercepted by an English steamer had warned the coal-boats that our fleet would arrive a day sooner, taught us a lesson? And had not the way in which the Japanese steamer, also provided with a wireless apparatus, stuck to us so persistently between Valparaiso and Callao shown us plainly that every new technical discovery has its shady side?

No, we had learned nothing. In Washington they insisted on sending all orders from the Navy Department to the different harbors and naval stations by wireless, yet each of the stations along the whole distance from east to west provided possibilities of indiscretion and treachery and of unofficial interception. Why had we not made wireless telegraphy a government monopoly, instead of giving each inhabitant of the United States the right to erect an apparatus of his own if he so wished? Did it never occur to anybody in Washington that long before the orders of the Navy Department had reached Mare Island, Puget Sound and San Diego they had been read with the greatest ease by hundreds of strangers? It required the success of the enemy to make all this clear to us, when we might just as well have listened to those who drew conclusions from obvious facts and recommended caution.

In spite of all this, the press on Tuesday morning still adhered to the hope that Admiral Perry would attack the enemy from the rear with his twelve battleships of the Pacific squadron, and that, meeting the Japanese at their base of operations, he would cut off all threads of communication between San Francisco and Tokio. It was no longer possible to warn Perry of his danger, since the wireless stations beyond the Rockies were already in the enemy's hands. The American people could therefore only trust to luck; but blind chance has never yet saved a country in its hour of direst need. It can only be saved by the energy, the steady eye and the strong hand of men. All hope centered in Admiral Perry, in his energy and his courage, but the people became uneasy when no answer was received to the oft-repeated question: "Where is the Pacific fleet?" Yes, where was Admiral Perry?

_Chapter X_

ADMIRAL PERRY'S FATE

The wireless apparatus on board Admiral Perry's flag-ship, the _Connecticut_, rattled and crackled and on the strip of white paper slowly ejected by the Morse machine appeared the words: "Magdalen Bay to Commander-in-chief of Squadron, May 7, 8h. 25. A cruiser and two torpedo-boats sighted four miles N.W. with course set towards Magdalen Bay; uncertain whether friend or foe. Captain Pancoast."

The man at the instrument tore off the duplicate of the strip and pasted it on the bulletin, touched the button of an electric bell and handed the message to the signalman who answered the ring. The telephone bell rang directly afterwards and from the bridge came the order: "Magdalen Bay to establish immediate connection by wireless with cruiser and torpedoes; ascertain whether they belong to blue or yellow party."

The officer ticked off the message at great speed.

"This looks like bad weather," he said to himself, while waiting for the answer. The increased rocking of the ship showed that the sea was getting rougher. A black pencil, which had been lying in the corner between the wall and the edge of the table, suddenly came to life and began rolling aimlessly about. The officer picked it up and drew a map of the location of Magdalen Bay as far as he could remember it. "Four miles," he murmured, "they ought to be able to identify the ships at that distance with the aid of a glass."

Suddenly the instrument began to buzz and rattle and amidst a discharge of little electric sparks the strip of white paper began to move out slowly from beneath the letter roller.

"Magdalen Bay to Commander-in-chief of Squadron, May 7, 8 h. 53: Approaching cruiser, probably yellow armored cruiser _New York_; does not answer call. Captain Pancoast."

The officer hadn't had time to get the message ready for the bridge, when the instrument again began to rattle madly:

"Take care of Kxj31mpTwB8d--951SR7--J," warned the strip in its mute language; then nothing further; complete silence reigned. "What does this mean?" said the officer, "this can't be all."

He knocked on the coherer, then put in a new one: not a sign. He took a third, a fourth, he knocked and shook the instrument, but it remained dumb. With his Morse-key he asked back:

"Magdalen Bay, repeat message!"

No answer.

Then he asked: "Did you understand question?"

No answer.

The signalman was standing beside him, and he handed him the message with the order to take it at once to the bridge; then he went to the telephone and took off the receiver. "This is Sergeant Medlow. I've just received from Magdalen Bay the message now on the way to the bridge: 'Take care of--' then the connection was cut off.... All right, sir."

Two minutes later an excited lieutenant rushed in crying: "What's the matter with the apparatus?"

"It won't work, sir; it stopped in the middle of a sentence."

"Take a new coherer!"

"I've tried four."

They both tapped the coherer, but nothing happened. All questions remained unanswered, and they seemed to be telegraphing into space.

"Probably a breakdown," said the lieutenant naïvely.

"Yes, sir, probably a breakdown," repeated Medlow; and then he was alone once more.

* * * * *

The officer on duty on the bridge of the _Connecticut_ had informed Captain Farlow, commander of the ship, of the latest messages from Magdalen Bay, and when he now appeared on the bridge in company with Admiral Perry, the officer held out the two bulletins. The admiral studied them thoughtfully and murmured: "_New York_, it's true she belongs to the yellow fleet, but what brings her to Magdalen Bay? Admiral Crane cannot possibly be so far to the southeast with his squadron, for the latest news from our outposts led us to believe that he intended to attack us from the west."

"But he may be going to surprise Magdalen Bay, Admiral," said Captain Farlow.

"Perhaps," replied the Admiral, rather sharply, "but will you tell me what for? There are only two torpedo-boats at Magdalen Bay, and to destroy a wireless station from which there are no messages to be sent would be a rather silly thing for an overzealous commander of the yellow fleet to do. And besides we have special orders from Washington to draw Magdalen Bay as little as possible into the maneuvers, so as to avoid all unpleasantness with Mexico and not to attract the attention of foreigners to the importance which the bay would assume in case of war."

A lieutenant stepped up to Captain Farlow and reported, saluting: "All attempts to establish connection with Magdalen Bay have failed."

"Well, let it go," grumbled Admiral Perry, "Crane seems to have deprived us of Magdalen Bay, but the commander of the _New York_ will reap a fine reprimand from Washington for this."

With these words Admiral Perry left the bridge, steadying himself by holding on to the railing on both sides of the steps, as the sea was becoming rougher every minute.

The increasing northeast wind tore through the rigging, whistled in the wires, howled through all the openings, screamed its bad temper down the companionways, pulled savagely at the gun-covers and caused the long copper-wires belonging to the wireless apparatus to snap like huge whips. The bluish-gray waves broke with a hollow sound against the sides of the six battleships of the _Connecticut_ class, which were running abreast in a northwesterly direction through the dreary watery wastes of the Pacific at the rate of ten knots an hour.

There was a high sea on. A barometric depression that was quite unusual in these sunny latitudes at that particular time of year had brought nasty weather in its train. During the night violent rain-storms had flooded the decks. Now the wind freshened and swept low-hanging clouds before it. The sharp white bow of the _Connecticut_ with the pressure of 16,000 tons of steel behind it plowed its way through the water, throwing up a hissing foaming wave on each side. The wind lashed the waves on the starboard-side so that they splashed over the forepart of the cruiser like a shower of rain, enveloping it in a gray mist. The thick, black smoke pouring out of the three long funnels was blown obliquely down to the edge of the water and hung there like a thick cloud which shut off the western horizon and made the passage of the squadron visible a long distance off. The small openings in the casemates of the armored guns had been closed up long before, because the waves had begun to wash over them, and even the turrets on the upper deck had received a few heavy showers which had flooded their interiors. It was indeed nasty weather.

Captain Farlow had taken up his stand on the upper conning-tower of the _Connecticut_ the better to examine the horizon with his glass, but a thick curtain of rain rendered it almost invisible.

"Nothing to be seen of our cruisers," he said to the navigating officer of the squadron, "this is disgusting weather for maneuvers."

Then he gave the command to telephone across to the two leading cruisers _California_ and _Colorado_ and ask if, on account of the thick weather, they required the assistance of two small cruisers in order to be sufficiently protected against the yellow fleet?

The commander of the _California_ answered in the affirmative and asked that the three destroyers in the van, which had all they could do to maintain their course in such a heavy sea, and were therefore of little use in their present position, be recalled and replaced by two cruisers.

The admiral recalled the three destroyers by a wireless signal and ordered them to take up their position in the rear beside the other three destroyers and to assist in protecting the rear of the squadron. At the same time he strengthened his front line by sending the cruisers _Galveston_ and _Chattanooga_, which had formed the port and starboard flank, respectively, to the van. His advance, consisting now of the two last-named cruisers and the two armored cruisers, proceeded in a flat wedge formation, while the cruiser _Denver_ to starboard and the _Cleveland_ to port, at a distance of three knots from the squadron, established the connection between the van and the rather dubious rear-guard of destroyers, which could scarcely do much in such weather.

The _Galveston_ and _Chattanooga_, both pouring forth clouds of smoke, quickly assumed their positions at the head of the line.

Captain Farlow paced restlessly up and down the bridge in his oilskins. "I suppose this is the last remnant of the spring storms," he said to his navigating officer, "but it's a good-sized one. If we didn't have a fairly good formation the yellow fleet could play us a nasty trick by taking us by surprise in such weather."

"A wireless message from the cruiser _California_," said a lieutenant, handing it to the captain, who read:

"_Chattanooga_ and _Galveston_ stationed on right and left flanks of advance guard; _Denver_ and _Cleveland_ establish connection between latter and squadron. No sign of yellow fleet."

Just then an orderly appeared and requested Captain Farlow to report to Admiral Perry.