on behalf of the United States that the case of the S 4 and the Nikko Maru was an exceptional one. Only a few hours previously a merchant vessel under the Japanese flag had been the means of inflicting serious damage on the Panama Canal, and while the Japanese Government might deny complicity in this outrage, the fact remained that a merchantman, owned and manned by its nationals, had committed a flagrant act of war. It was but natural, therefore, that all other Japanese vessels in the vicinity of the Canal should fall under grave suspicion and be regarded as active enemies until the contrary had been proved. For this reason the United States held itself justified in taking the measures that had been taken against the Nikko Maru , whose behaviour when requested to stop and submit to search had been highly suspicious. That the ship had been intercepted by a submarine instead of a surface patrol vessel was a fortuitous circumstance that did not affect the main issue. The United States Government concluded by maintaining that the Treaty in question was still valid, and would continue to be observed by its own submarines till further notice. The controversy thus initiated endured as long as the war itself, but Japan always insisted that the shots fired by S 4 had automatically cancelled the embargo on submarines as commerce destroyers, and from that time forward did not scruple to use her underwater boats for attacking enemy merchant ships.
For the moment, however, public interest was centred on a matter of more immediate concern — the fate of those gallant men who were called upon to defend America’s overseas possessions against crushing odds. From March 3 to March 7 not a word of news reached Washington from that quarter of the world. It was as though an impenetrable screen had been established round a great area of the Western Pacific to hide the tragedy being enacted in those distant waters. Late on March 8 the silence was broken by a press cable from Hong Kong to London, transmitted to New York. This stated that rumours were current in the Chinese ports of a great naval battle having been fought off the Philippines between the Japanese and American fleets, and ending in the total destruction of the latter. A few hours later came another cable from the same source, containing news of the direst import. A Dutch steamer from Batavia to Hong Kong had reported by radio that she had picked up, two hundred miles west of Manila, seven survivors of the American destroyer Crosby , who had been found clinging to wreckage from their lost ship. Being in the last stage of exhaustion they were unable to give coherent details of what had occurred, and could only say that their ship had been sunk, “along with all the rest,” in action with “the whole Japanese fleet.” Further particulars were promised in a later cable, but before this arrived the dread news of disaster was confirmed by a brief but pregnant official bulletin from Tokyo, which is here quoted in full:
In the forenoon of March 6 our South Sea naval forces, under the command of Vice-Admiral Hiraga, encountered the American Asiatic Squadron outside Manila Bay. By skilful manoeuvres it was brought to action under favourable conditions, the battle lasting three hours. The enemy force was totally destroyed, in spite of a brave defence. We sank five cruisers, one large auxiliary, nine destroyers and several submarines. Two store ships were sunk and one was captured. A number of prisoners have been taken. Our losses are small. Operations in the Southern Seas are continuing to our advantage.
Japanese war bulletins have never erred on the side of verbosity, but as a rule they are very much to the point. This one was no exception. It told in plain terms of the annihilation of the only American naval force in the Far East, and, consequently, the only force which had been available for the floating defence of the Philippines. The islands, being thus deprived of all means of
Carol Wallace, Bill Wallance