"Soon we were able to ascertain the number of the enemy. There were

about 300 men; we numbered fifty, with twenty-nine guns. In the night,

Lieutenant Schmidt died. We had to dig his grave with our hands and with

our bayonets, and to eliminate every trace above it, in order to protect

the body. Rademacher had been buried immediately after the skirmish,

both of them silently, with all honors.

[Sidenote: The men suffer from thirst.]

"The wounded had a hard time of it. We had lost our medicine chest in

the wreck; we had only little packages of bandages for skirmishes; but

no probing instrument, no scissors were at hand. On the next day our men

came up with thick tongues, feverish, and crying 'Water! water!' But

each one received only a little cupful three times a day. If our water

supply was exhausted, we would have to sally from our camp and fight our

way through. Then we should have gone to pot under superior numbers. The

Arab gendarmes simply cut the throats of those camels that had been

wounded by shots, and then drank the yellow water that was contained in

the stomachs. Those fellows can stand anything. At night we always

dragged out the dead camels that had served as cover, and had been

shot. The hyenas came, hunting for dead camels. I shot one of these,

taking it for an enemy in the darkness.

"That continued about three days. On the third day there were new

negotiations. Now the Bedouins demanded arms no longer, but only money.

This time the negotiations took place across the camp wall. When I

declined, the Bedouin said: 'Beaucoup de combat,' (lots of fight.) I

replied:

"'Please go to it!'

[Sidenote: Troops of the Emir of Mecca.]

"We had only a little ammunition left, and very little water. Now it

really looked as if we would soon be dispatched. The mood of the men was

pretty dismal. Suddenly, at about 10 o'clock in the morning, there

bobbed up in the north two riders on camels, waving white cloths. Soon

afterward there appeared, coming from the same direction, far back, a

long row of camel troops, about a hundred; they draw rapidly near by,

ride singing toward us, in a picturesque train. They were the messengers

and troops of the Emir of Mecca.

"Sami Bey's wife, it developed, had, in the course of the first

negotiations, dispatched an Arab boy to Jeddah. From that place the

Governor had telegraphed to the Emir. The latter at once sent camel

troops, with his two sons and his personal surgeon; the elder, Abdullah,

conducted the negotiations; the surgeon acted as interpreter, in French.

Now things proceeded in one-two-three order, and the whole Bedouin band

speedily disappeared. From what I learned later, I know definitely that

they had been corrupted with bribes by the English. They knew when and

where we would pass and they had made all preparations. Now our first

act was a rush for water; then we cleared up our camp, but had to

harness our camels ourselves, for the camel drivers had fled at the

very beginning of the skirmish. More than thirty camels were dead. The

saddles did not fit, and my men know how to rig up schooners, but not

camels. Much baggage remained lying in the sand for lack of pack

animals.

[Sidenote: The party reaches Mecca.]

"Then, under the safe protection of Turkish troops, we got to Jeddah.

There the authorities and the populace received us very well. From there

we proceeded in nineteen days, without mischance, by sailing boat to

Elwesh, and under abundant guard with Suleiman Pasha in a five-day

caravan journey toward this place, to El Ula, and now we are seated at

last in the train and are riding toward Germany--into the war at last!"

"Was not the war you had enough?" I asked.

"Not a bit of it," replied the youngest Lieutenant; "the _Emden_ simply

captured ships each time; only a single time, at Penang, was it engaged

in battle, and I wasn't present on that occasion. War? No, that is just

to begin for us now."

[Sidenote: Muecke's great task.]

"My task since November," said Muecke, "has been to bring my men as

quickly as possible to Germany against the enemy. Now, at last, I can do

so."

"And what do you desire for yourself?" I asked.

"For myself," he laughed, and the blue eyes sparkled, "a command in the

North Sea."

* * * * *

Japan was bound by alliance with Great Britain to join with her to

attack any aggressor, and to carry out her pledges she, at the outbreak

of the war, prepared to capture the German stronghold Tsing-tao, the

capital of the concession of Kiao-chau, which Germany had obtained from

China, and had converted into a German possession.

CAPTURE OF TSING-TAO

A. N. HILDITCH

Battle Sketches by A. N. Hilditch, Oxford University Press.

[Sidenote: Qualities of the Japanese.]

[Sidenote: Count Okuma Prime Minister.]

[Sidenote: Japanese ultimatum.]

Tokyo, capital of Japan, lies at the head of Tokyo Bay, in the

south-east of Nippon. Its two million inhabitants are distributed among

houses and streets which present curious intermixtures of Japanese and

European architecture, customs, or science. The jinrikisha notably has

been displaced largely by tramcars which, carrying all passengers at a

uniform rate of four sen, make it possible to travel ten miles for a

penny. It is an industrial city, but on account of occasional

earthquakes no very large buildings line the thoroughfares. The

traveller can here observe to advantage the strange characteristics of

the most stoical race upon earth, or can contrast, if he will, the

courteous, imperturbably serene disposition of the most martial nation

of the East with the present disposition of the most rabidly bellicose

nation of the West. When Japanese and German, indeed, met in conflict

before Tsing-tao in the autumn of 1914, there was seen, in the Japanese

soldier, during a campaign of peculiar hardship and difficulty, a

revival of the qualities of the old Samurai, with his quiet courage, his

burning patriotism, his patience, his habitual suppression of emotional

display singularly distinct from those of the modern Goth. Nor was the

statesmanship which brought about that conflict less admirable. Japan's

alliance with Great Britain was at once a solemn pledge and the guiding

principle of her foreign policy. August 1914 found British interests

and the vast trade that centred at Hong-kong in danger: German armed

vessels prowled the seas, and the German naval base of Tsing-tao was

busy with warlike preparations. Great Britain appealed to Japan to free

their joint commerce from the menace. The Japanese Prime Minister, Count

Okuma, might well hesitate, however, before recommending intervention.

Was he the right minister to direct a war? He was nearer eighty than

seventy years old, and recently had been for seven years in retirement:

his Government had a minority in the Diet, and to the Genro his name was

anathema: he claimed the allegiance of no party, and the powerful

military and naval clans, Choshiu and Satsuma, were openly hostile. He

had been raised to power a few months before by public demand for

progressive government. There were considerations other than domestic or

personal, indeed, which might have tempted some statesmen to hold their

hands. To temporize while events revealed themselves in Europe would be

safer than immediate action; while to remain neutral might lead to the

transference to the Japanese of much trade with China now in British

hands, inevitably hampered by the menace of German commerce-destroyers.

Nevertheless, Count Okuma's Cabinet came to a bold and loyal decision.

Baron Kato, the Foreign Minister, reassured Great Britain of active

Japanese aid, and on August 15 sent an ultimatum to Germany. The latter

was requested to withdraw at once all German armed vessels from Eastern

waters, and to deliver to Japan before September 15 the entire leased

territory of Kiao-chau, with a view to its eventual restoration to

China. The ultimatum was timed to expire at noon on August 23. That day

arrived without satisfaction having been given to Japan. Within a few

hours the 2nd Japanese squadron steamed off towards Tsing-tao.

[Sidenote: German Pacific squadron sails.]

[Sidenote: Tsing-tao's importance.]

[Sidenote: Germans prepare defense.]

[Sidenote: Japanese warships approach.]

Before the outbreak of hostilities with Great Britain, Vice-Admiral the

Graf von Spee, who commanded the German Pacific squadron, had steamed

away from Tsing-tao with most of his ships. To use Tsing-tao as a naval

base while engaging in commerce-raiding seemed a sound and a practicable

plan, since the British and Australian naval forces, though superior,

were hardly strong enough simultaneously to blockade the harbour and to

search the seas. The plan was, however, rendered impossible by the

Japanese ultimatum, and the Admiral, after having lingered for some

weeks in the Western Pacific, departed for other seas and other

adventures. Such was the result of Japan's action, and thus dangerous

were the tactics that Japan's action had frustrated. For Tsing-tao,

situated upon one of the two peninsulas, divided by two miles of

waterway, enclosing the bay of Kiao-chau, with its safe and spacious

anchorage for vessels of any size, constituted one of the most important

naval bases on the Chinese coast. It had, indeed, been described as the

key to Northern China. Dominating the eastern coast of the Shantung

peninsula, the port formed the centre of the semicircular area known as

Kiao-chau, extending on a radius of 32 miles around the shores of the

bay, with a population of 60,000. This area was, under the Chinese

German agreement as to Tsing-tao, influenced and controlled by Germany,

though not strictly subject to her, and regarded as neutral territory.

Its surface was mainly mountainous and bare, though the lowlands were

well cultivated, but in parts it was rich in mineral wealth, large but

undeveloped supplies of coal being present. In winter the port,

connected to the junction of Tsi-nan by a German-built railway, was the

natural outlet for the trade of Northern China. The heights which

surrounded the bay offered admirable sites for fortification, while the

land-approaches to Tsing-tao were guarded by formidable defences

stretched across its peninsula. In many quarters the stronghold was

regarded as a second Port Arthur. The Germans had paid particular

attention to defence, so much so, indeed, that over five-sixths of the

white inhabitants were engaged in military occupations. Five thousand

German marines constituted the normal garrison, though the outbreak of

war in August called about a thousand more men--volunteers, reservists,

and sailors--to the colours. The complement of the _Kaiserin Elizabeth_,

an Austrian cruiser sheltering in the harbour, left for Tientsin, having

received orders to disarm their ship, but returned in time to join the

defenders. The garrison was amply provisioned for five or six months,

and well provided with weapons, stores, and munitions. Most of the

German ships off the Chinese coast at the outbreak of war, indeed, had

made immediately for Tsing-tao, and discharged upon its wharves many

thousand tons of cargo. When war with Japan became inevitable,

therefore, the defenders could anticipate a successful resistance,

provided the expected instantaneous victories in Europe materialized.

Elaborate preparations were made for the defence. The harbour mouth was

blocked by three sunken vessels, enabling only small craft to enter.

Chinese villages within the leased territory, and the bridge where the

railway crossed the boundary, were destroyed, partial compensation being

paid to the inhabitants. Native labourers were engaged to throw up

earthworks to strengthen the town fortifications. Many foreigners,

women, children, and non-combatants, meanwhile, had left the town. On

Friday evening, August 21, at roll-call, the Governor, Captain

Meyer-Waldeck, read out a message from the German Emperor exhorting the

garrison to defend the town to their utmost, and to do their 'duty to

the last'. It was listened to stoically. The following day a diversion

occurred which opened hostilities propitiously for the Germans. The

British destroyer _Kennet_, encountering the German destroyer _S. 90_

off the coast, gave chase. The _S. 90_ immediately made for port, and

the _Kennet_, in the ardour of pursuit, closed in unawares within range

of the German land batteries. The latter opened fire, and before she

could draw off the _Kennet_ sustained ten casualties, though little

material damage. Next day the term of the Japanese ultimatum expired. It

was doubtful at what point the Japanese would begin operations, or what

tactics they would adopt. The fear was prevalent among Germans that the

enemy would enter Chinese territory to reach the town from the land:

newspapers under German influence, indeed, circulating in Chinese coast

towns, started a press campaign with the object of stirring the Chinese

Government to oppose by force any Japanese landing in her territory.

Outposts were placed by the Germans along the shores of the neutral zone

to watch for developments: they descried, on August 24, the approach of

Japanese warships.

Vice-Admiral Sadakichi Kato, who commanded the approaching squadron,

immediately upon arrival took measures to protect himself against danger

from mines. Seven islets clustering round the mouth of Kiao-chau Bay

were occupied, to form a convenient local naval base, while

mine-sweepers swept the surrounding seas. No less than a thousand mines

were taken from the water. A blockade of the whole Kiao-chau coast was

declared, as commencing from 9 a.m., August 27, and war vessels

patrolled the shores, some seventy miles long. Action soon began, and

continued during ensuing days, with shells that at intervals screamed

towards the town. The position was, however, reconnoitred carefully.

Japanese airmen went up frequently to scan the fortifications and to

drop bombs. All protruding structures, spires and factory-chimneys, had

been levelled to the ground by the Germans so as to afford no mark for

fire. Bombs were dropped on the railway station and on one of the

numerous barrack buildings. The operations continued spasmodically into

September, while Kato was awaiting the approach by land of a

co-operating army, which had now disembarked on the northern coast of

the Shantung peninsula, about 150 miles due north of Tsing-tao.

[Sidenote: Landing effected.]

[Sidenote: Floods hinder advance.]

The landing was effected on September 2, without hindrance or opposition

on the part of the Chinese. The Government, following the precedent of

the Russo-Japanese War, immediately published a declaration refusing to

hold itself responsible for the obligations of strict neutrality in

areas that formed, within Lung-kow, Lai-chau, and the neighbourhood of

Kiao-chau Bay, passage-ways essential to the belligerent troops. It was,

of course, incumbent upon the Powers involved to respect Chinese

property and administrative rights. Japan, therefore, was permitted to

make use of the main roads to transport an army to the rear of

Tsing-tao. The forces landed composed a division numbering 23,000, and

commanded by Lieutenant-General Mitsuomi Kamio. An advance-guard was

sent forward without delay, but soon found its way rendered impassable

by torrential floods which at this time swept down upon and devastated

the province of Shantung, bridges, roads, and even villages being

submerged and destroyed, with great loss of life, largely owing to

Chinese official incompetence. The Japanese, after covering 20

kilometres in two days, reached a stream so swollen that crossing was

impossible. The artillery had to return to Lung-kow. German diplomacy,

meanwhile, exasperated at its inability to prevent a Japanese landing,

had not been inactive.

[Sidenote: Chinese neutrality.]

[Sidenote: Rivalry of British and Japanese.]

[Sidenote: Japanese advance.]

The German and Austrian ministers at Peking, on hearing of the Japanese

landing, protested strongly. China, it was claimed, ought to have

forestalled and resisted the landing, but instead had deliberately

extended the war-zone in order to facilitate Japanese movements. She

would be held responsible for any injury to the German cause or

property. To this China replied that, if it was incumbent upon her to

prevent by force Japan operating in her territory, it was equally her

duty to prevent by force Germany fortifying and defending Tsing-tao.

China had endeavoured, indeed, but unsuccessfully, to preclude

belligerent operations in her territory: only after the Japanese

landing, when she was powerless to do otherwise, had she extended the

zone of war. As to the responsibility, she reiterated her previous

declaration. The baffled Germans fell back on threats: the right was

reserved to visit upon China dire consequences for her alleged breach of

neutrality. The incident, thrown into striking contrast with Germany's

offer to Belgium, marked the unscrupulousness of German diplomacy, but

stirred also many doubts among the foreign communities in China, in

which the British, allied as they were to the Japanese, formed a

predominating element. An anomaly of the situation was that British

local interests had long conflicted with Japanese national interests.

Japan's activities had, at every stage of her recent history, reduced

British opportunities. Japanese trader competed with British trader for

the markets of China, and Japan's share of the annual trade expansion

was increasing, that of Great Britain decreasing. High tariffs and

preferential rates had closed Corea and Manchuria to British enterprise.

It is easy to estimate in what commercial jealousy and rivalry such

circumstances had resulted. While the expediency of the British-Japanese

alliance was fully recognized, and its consequences admitted to be the

freedom of the China seas from menace of commerce-destroyers,

nevertheless the fact remained that the hostilities against Tsing-tao

would constitute a fresh impulse to Japanese expansion. The operations

in Shantung were watched with critical eyes by many British in the

foreign settlements of China. The floods had, meanwhile, subsided

considerably, and on September 12 Japanese cavalry reached Tsimo, ten

miles outside the Kiao-chau zone. No trace of the enemy north of the

Pai-sha River had been seen, beyond a German aeroplane that occasionally

passed overhead on reconnoitring flights. On the following day a number

of sharp skirmishes with outposts occurred, and one Japanese patrol

found its way to the small town of Kiao-chau, situated at the head of

the bay, some 22 miles from Tsing-tao itself. The brushes with the

Germans became of daily occurrence, and in one of them a high official

of the German Legation at Peking, who had volunteered for service, was

killed. On September 17 the Japanese attacked Wang-ko-huang, 13 miles

from Tsimo, the enemy being in a fortified position and provided with

machine-guns. At sunset, however, they abandoned the village and

withdrew under cover of darkness, leaving behind quantities of equipment

and supplies. A little later a development came about that brought the

dissatisfaction of British traders to a head. About September 18, after

hostile patrols had been driven away from the shore by the fire of

destroyers, Japanese artillery and troops were landed at Laoshan Bay,

north of Tsing-tao, just within the leased territory. Why was it

necessary that troops should have been landed on the northern shore of

the peninsula of Shantung, 150 miles from their objective, when guns

could be disembarked with perfect safety on the eastern shore, not 40

miles from the objective, and within the German zone?

[Sidenote: A British force co-operates.]

The British were not as critical of Japan's strategy as they were

suspicious of her policy. Dark suggestions got afoot that she had

ulterior designs upon the whole Chinese province of Shantung. Such views

could not but have reached the ears of the British authorities at

Wei-hei-wei and elsewhere, nor could they have been deaf to previous

murmurs. Diplomatic circles, however, could extend little sympathy to

the critics. Nevertheless, it was undeniable that the latter were

aggrieved, and that their attitude might produce unfortunate effects. If

Great Britain herself took some share in the Tsing-tao operations,

greater sympathy with their purpose might be induced, and a better state

of feeling in the Orient between the two peoples might possibly result.

It must have been some aim such as this that prompted the dispatch of a

British force to the Tsing-tao area to co-operate with General Kamio, a

step which the earlier symptoms of the British discontent cannot but

have influenced. On September 19, however, 1,000 of the 2nd South Wales

Borderers, a force so small as to be nominal, under Brigadier-General

Barnardiston, left Tientsin and proceeded to Wei-hei-wei. Transport

mules having here been taken on board, the expedition on September 22

coasted down the eastern shore of Shantung, and next day landed at

Laoshan Bay. A month later, as will be seen, they were joined by 500 of

the 36th Sikhs.

[Sidenote: Faint opposition.]

[Sidenote: Artillery battle.]

World's War Events, Vol. I · 第 14 / 28 段