Banzai! by Parabellum

by Ferdinand Heinrich Grautoff

  _Chapter XXII_

  REMEMBER HILGARD!

  Just as in the war between Russia and Japan, the paper strategists foundcomfort in the thought that the Japanese successes on American soil wereonly temporary and that their victorious career would soon come to anend. The supposition that Japan had no money to carry on the war wassoon seen to lack all real foundation. Thus far the war had cost Japannot even two hundred millions, for it was not Japan, but the PacificStates that had borne the brunt of the expense. Japan had already leviedin the States occupied by her troops a sum larger by far than the totalamount of the indemnity which they had hoped to collect at Portsmouthseveral years before.

  The overwhelming defeat of the Army of the North at Hilgard had takenthe wind out of a great many sails. The terrible catastrophe evensucceeded in stirring up the nations of the Old World, who had beenwatching developments at a safe distance, to a proper realization of theseriousness and proximity of the yellow peril.

  Even England began to edge quietly away from Japan, this change inBritish policy being at once recognized in Tokio when, at Canada'srequest, England refused to allow Japanese ships to continue to use thedocks and coal depots at Esquimault. Later, when after the victories ofthe American fleet off Port Stanley and near the Straits of Magellan,the governor of the Falkland Islands was made the scape-goat andbanished--he had at first intended exposing the cabinet of St. James bypublishing the instructions received from them in July, but finallythought better of it--and when the governors of all the British colonieswere ordered to observe strict neutrality, Japan interpreted this actioncorrectly. But she was prepared for this emergency, and now came theretribution for having fooled the Japanese nation with hopes of apermanent alliance. Japan pressed a button, and Great Britain was madeto realize the danger of playing with the destiny of a nation.

  Apparently without the slightest connection with the war in America, aninsurrection suddenly broke out in Bengal, at the foot of the Himalayasand on the plateaus of Deccan, which threatened to shake the veryfoundations of British sovereignty. It was as much as England could doto dispatch enough troops to India in time to stop the flood frombursting all the dams. At the same time an insurrection broke out inFrench Indo-China, and while England and France were sendingtransport-ships, escorted by cruisers, to the Far East, great upheavalstook place in all parts of Africa. The Europeans had their hands full indozens of different directions: garrisons and naval stations requiredreenforcements, and all had to be on guard constantly in order to avoida surprise.

  These were Japan's last resources for preventing the white races fromcoming to the aid of the United States.

  Remember Hilgard! This was the shibboleth with which Congress passed thebill providing for the creation of a standing militia-army and makingthe military training of every American citizen a national duty. And howwillingly they all responded to their country's call--every one realizedthat the final decision was approaching.

  Remember Hilgard! That was the war-cry, and that was the thought whichtrembled in every heart and proved to the world that when the Americannation once comes to its senses, it is utterly irresistible.

  What did we care for the theories of diplomats about international lawand neutrality; they were swept away like cobwebs. Just as Japan duringthe Russian war had been provided with arms and equipment from the East,because the crippling of the Russian fleet had left the road to theJapanese harbors open and complaints were consequently not to be feared,so German steamers especially now brought to our Atlantic portswar-materials and weapons that had been manufactured in Germany for thenew American armies, since the American factories could not possiblysupply the enormous demand within such a short period.

  Remember Hilgard! were the words which accompanied every command atdrill and in the encampments where our new army was being trained. Theregiments waited impatiently for the moment when they would be ledagainst the enemy, but we dared not again make the mistake of leading anunprepared army against such an experienced foe. Week after week, monthafter month passed, before we could begin our march in the winter snow.

  The Pacific Army, which advanced in January to attack the Japaneseposition on the high plateaus of the Rocky Mountains towards Granger,numbered more than a third of a million. After three days of severefighting, this important stronghold of the Japanese center was capturedand the enemy forced to retreat.

  Great rejoicing rang through the whole land. A complete victory at last!Fourteen Japanese guns were captured by the two Missouri regiments afterfour assaults and with the loss of half their men. The guns were draggedin triumph through the States, and the slightly wounded soldiers on theammunition-carts declared, after the triumphal entry into St. Louis,that the tumultuous embraces and thousands of handclasps from theenthusiastic crowds had used them up more than the three days' battle.

  The capture of Granger had interrupted the communication between theUnion Pacific Railroad and the Oregon Short Line branching off to thenorthwest; but this didn't bother the enemy much, for he simply sent histransports over the line from Pocatello to the South via Ogden, so thatwhen the commander-in-chief of the Pacific Army renewed the attack onthe Japanese positions, he found them stronger than he had anticipated.

  The attack on Fort Bridger began on the second of February, but theenemy's position on the mountain heights remained unshaken. Severalcaptive balloons and two motor air-ships (one of which was destroyed,shortly after its ascent, by hostile shots) brought the information thatthe Japanese artillery and entrenchments on the face of the mountainformed an almost impregnable position. Thus while the people were stillrejoicing over the latest victory, the Pacific Army was in a positionwhere each step forward was sure to be accompanied by a severe loss oflife.

  Six fresh divisions from different encampments arrived on the field ofbattle on the fourth and fifth of February. They received orders toattack the seemingly weak positions of the enemy near Bell's Pass, andthen to cross the snow-covered pass and fall upon the left flank of theJapanese center. All manner of obstacles interfered with the advance,which was at last begun. Whole companies had to be harnessed to theguns; but they pressed forward somehow. The small detachments ofJapanese cavalry defending the pass were compelled to retreat, and thepass itself was taken by a night assault. Frost now set in, and the gunsand baggage wagons were drawn up the mountain paths by means of ropes.The men suffered terribly from the cold, but the knowledge that theywere making progress prevented them from grumbling.

  On the seventh of February, just as Fisher's division, the first ofGeneral Elliott's army to pass Bell's Pass, had reached the valley ofthe Bear River preparatory to marching southward, via Almy and Evanston,in the rear of the Japanese positions, cavalry scouts, who had beenpatrolling downstream as far as Georgetown, reported that large bodiesof hostile troops were approaching from the North. General Elliottordered Fisher's division to continue its advance on Almy, and alsodispatched Hardy's and Livingstone's divisions to the South, whileWilson's division remained behind to guard the pass, and the divisionsof Milton and Stranger were sent to the North to stop the advance of theenemy's reenforcements. Milton's division was to advance along the leftbank of the Bear River and to occupy the passes in the Bear River Range,in order to prevent the enemy from making a diversion via Logan. Mountedengineers destroyed the tracks at several spots in front of and behindLogan.

  It will be seen, therefore, that General Elliott's six divisions wereall stationed in the narrow Bear River Valley between the two hostilearmies: Fisher's, Hardy's and Livingstone's divisions were headed Southto fall upon the left wing of the enemy's main army, commanded byMarshal Oyama; while Milton's and Stranger's divisions were marching tothe North, and came upon the enemy, who was on his way from Pocatello,at Georgetown. General Elliott therefore had to conduct a battle in twodirections: In the South he had to assume the offensive against Oyama'swing as quickly and energetically as possible, whereas at Georgetown hewould be on the defensive. Bell's Pass lay almost exactly between thetwo li
nes, and there General Elliott had posted only the reserves,consisting of the three weak brigades belonging to Wilson's division. Ifthe Japanese succeeded in gaining a decisive victory at Georgetown,General Elliott's whole army would be in a position of the utmostdanger.

  _Chapter XXIII_

  IN THE WHITE HOUSE

  On the streets of Washington there was a wild scramble for the extrascontaining the latest news from the front. The people stood for hours infront of the newspaper offices, but definite news was so long in coming,that despair once more seized their hearts and they again becamesceptical of ultimate victory.

  Seven long anxious days of waiting! Were we fighting againstsupernatural forces, which no human heroism could overcome?

  A telegraph instrument had been set up next to the President's study inthe White House so that all news from the front might reach him withoutdelay. On a table lay a large map of the battle-field where the fightingwas now going on, and his private secretary had marked the positions ofthe American troops with little wooden blocks and colored flags.

  Suddenly the instrument began to click, a fresh report from the generalstaff of the Pacific Army appeared on the tape:

  "Fort Bridger, Feb. 8, 6 p.m. Our captive balloon reports that the enemy seems to be shifting his troops on the left flank. Two Japanese battalions have abandoned their positions, which were at once occupied by a line of skirmishers from the 86th Regiment supported by two machine-guns. An assault of the second battalion of the 64th Regiment on the Japanese infantry position was repulsed, as the enemy quite unexpectedly brought several masked machine-guns into action. The firing continues, and General Elliott reports that the battle with the hostile forces advancing along the Bear River Valley began at 3 p.m. south of Georgetown. As the enemy has appeared in unexpectedly large numbers, two brigades of Wood's division have been sent from Bell's Pass to the North.

  MAJOR GENERAL ILLING."

  The private secretary changed the position of several blocks on the map,moving the flags at Bell's Pass and pushing two little blue flags in thedirection of Georgetown. Then he took the report to the President.

  At midnight the report came that the stubborn resistance of the enemy atGeorgetown had made it advisable to send Wilson's last brigade fromBell's Pass to the North.

  "Our last reserves," said the President, looking at the map; "we'replaying a venturesome game." Then he glanced at his secretary and sawthat the latter was utterly exhausted. And no wonder, for he hadn'tslept a wink in three nights. "Go and take a nap, Johnson," said thePresident; "I'll stay up, as I have some work to finish. Take a nap,Johnson, I don't need you just now."

  "What about the instrument, sir?" asked the secretary.

  "I can hear everything in the next room. I'll have no peace anyhow tillit is all over. Besides, the Secretary of War is coming over, so I'llget along all right."

  The President sat down at his desk and affixed his signature to a numberof documents. Half an hour later the Secretary of War was announced.

  "Sit down, Harry," said the President, pointing to a chair, "I'll beready in five minutes." And while the President was finishing his work,the Secretary of War settled down in his chair and took up a book. Butthe next moment he laid it down again and took up a paper instead; thenhe took up another one and read a few lines mechanically, stopping everynow and then to stare vacantly over the edge of the paper into space. Atlast he jumped up and began pacing slowly up and down. Then he went intothe telegraph-room, and glanced over the report, a copy of which he hadreceived half an hour ago. Then he examined the various positions on themap, placing some of the blocks more accurately.

  Then a bell rang and steps could be heard in the hall. The door of theadjacent room opened and shut, and he heard the President fold up thedocuments and say: "Take these with you, they are all signed. Tomorrowmorning--oh, I forgot, it's morning now--the ninth of February."

  Then some one went out and closed the door and the President was aloneagain. The next moment he joined the Secretary of War in thetelegraph-room.

  "Harry," he said in a low voice, "our destiny will be decided within thenext few hours. I sent Johnson off to bed; he needed some sleep.Besides, we want to be alone when the fate of our country is decided."

  The Secretary of War walked up and down the room with his hands in hispockets, puffing away at a cigar. Both men avoided looking at eachother; neither wished the other to see how nervous he was. Both werelistening intently for the sound of the telegraph-bell.

  "A message arrived from Fort Bridger about ten o'clock," said thePresident after a long pause, "to the effect that our captive balloonsreported a change in the positions of the enemy's left wing. This maymean----"

  "Yes, it may mean--" repeated the Secretary of War mechanically.

  Then they both became silent once more, puffing vigorously at theircigars.

  "Suppose it's all in vain again, suppose the enemy--" began theSecretary of War, when he was interrupted by the ringing of the bell inthe next room.

  The message ran:

  "Bell's Pass, Feb. 9, 12.15 a.m. Milton's division has succeeded in wresting several important positions from the enemy after a night of severe fighting. Unimportant reverses suffered by Stranger's division more than offset with the aid of reenforcements from Bell's Pass.

  COLONEL TARDITT."

  "If they can only hold Georgetown," said the Secretary of War, "our lastreserves have gone there now."

  "God grant they may."

  Then they both went back to the study. The President remained standingin front of the portrait of Lincoln hanging on the wall.

  "He went through just such hours as these," he said quietly, "just suchhours, and perhaps in this very room, when the battle between the_Monitor_ and the _Merrimac_ was being fought at Hampton Roads, and newswas being sent to him hour by hour. Oh, Abraham Lincoln, if you wereonly here to-day to deliver your message over the length and breadth ofour land."

  The Secretary of War looked hard at the President as he answered: "Yes,we have need of men, but we have men, too, some perhaps who are evengreater than Lincoln."

  The President shook his head sadly, saying: "I don't know, we've doneeverything we could, we've done our duty, yet perhaps we might have madeeven greater efforts. I'm so nervous over the outcome of this battle; itseems to me we are facing the enemy without weapons, or at best withvery blunt ones."

  Again the bell rang and the President moved towards the door, butstopped halfway and said: "You better go and see what it is, Harry."

  "Fort Bridger, Feb. 8, 11.50 p.m. From Fisher's division the report comes via Bell's Pass that two of his regiments have driven the enemy from their positions with the aid of searchlights, and that they are now in hot pursuit. MAJOR GENERAL ILLING."

  Without saying a word the Secretary of War moved the blocks representingFisher's division further South. Then he remarked quietly: "It doesn'tmake much difference what happens at Georgetown, the decision restsright here now and the next hour may decide it all," and he put hisfinger on the spot in the mountains occupied by the enemy's left wing."If an attack on the enemy's front should make a gap----"

  He didn't complete the sentence, for the President's hand rested heavilyon his shoulder. "Yes, Harry," he said, "if--that's what we've beensaying for nine months. If--and our If has always been followed by aBut--the enemy's But."

  He threw himself into a chair and shaded his tired eyes with his hand,while the Secretary of War walked incessantly up and down, puffing on afresh cigar.--

  The night was almost over.--The shrill little bell rang again, causingthe President to start violently. Slowly, inch by inch, the white stripof paper was rolled off, and stooping together over the tickinginstrument, the two men watched one letter, one word, one sentence afteranother appear, until at last it was all there:

  "Fort Bridger, Feb. 9, 1.15 a.m. A returning motor air-ship reports a furious artillery fight in the rear of the enemy's left wing. Have ju
st issued orders for a general attack on the hostile positions on the heights. Cannonade raging all along the line. Reports from Bell's Pass state that enemy is retreating from Georgetown. Twelve of the enemy's guns captured.

  "MAJOR GENERAL ILLING."

  "Harry!" cried the President, seizing his friend's hand, "suppose thismeans victory!"

  "It does, it must," was the answer. "Look here," he said, as herearranged the blocks on the map, "the whole pressure of GeneralElliott's three divisions is concentrated on the enemy's left wing. Allthat's necessary is a determined attack----"

  "On the entrenchments in the dark?" broke in the President, "when themen are so apt to lose touch with their leaders, when they're shootingat random, when a mere chance may wrest away the victory and give it tothe enemy?"

  The Secretary of War shook his head, saying: "The fate of battles restsin the hands of God; we must have faith in our troops."

  He walked around the table with long strides, while the Presidentcompared the positions of the armies on the map with the contents of thelast telegram.

  "Harry," he said, looking up, "do you remember the speech I made atHarvard years ago on the unity of nations? That was my first speech, andwho would have thought that we should now be sitting together in thisroom? It's strange how it all comes back to me now. Even then, as ayoung man, I was deeply interested in the development of the idea ofGerman national unity as expressed in German poetry; and much that Iread then has become full of meaning for us, too, especially in theselatter days. One of those German songs is ringing in my ears to-night.Oh, if it could only come true, if our brave men over there storming therocky heights could only make it come true--" At this moment thetelegraph-bell again rang sharply:

  "Fort Bridger, Feb. 9, 2.36 a.m. With enormous losses the brigades of Lennox and Malmberg have stormed the positions occupied by the artillery on the enemy's left wing, and have captured numerous guns. The thunder of cannon coming from the valley can be distinctly heard here on the heights. Fisher's division has signaled that they have successfully driven back the enemy. The Japanese are beginning to retreat all along the line. Our troops----"

  The President could read no further, for the words were dancing beforehis eyes. This stern man, whom nothing could bend or break, now hadtears in his eyes as he folded his hands over the telegraph instrument,from which the tape continued to come forth, and said in a deeply movedvoice: "Harry, this hour is greater than the Fourth of July. And now,Harry, I remember it, that song of the German poet; may it become ourprayer of thanksgiving:"

  "From tower to tower let the bells be rung, Throughout our land let our joy be sung! Light every beacon far and near, To show that God hath helped us here! Praise be to God on High!"

  Then the President stepped over to the window and pushing aside thecurtains, opened it and looked out into the cold winter morning for along time.

  "Harry," he called presently, "doesn't it seem as though the bells wereringing? Thus far no one knows the glad tidings but you and I; but verysoon they'll awake to paeans of victory and then our flag will waveproudly once more and we'll have no trouble in winning back the missingstars."

  It was a moment of the highest national exaltation, such as a nationexperiences only once in a hundred years.

  A solitary policeman was patrolling up and down before the White House,and he started violently as he heard a voice above him calling out:

  "Run as hard as you can and call out on all the streets: The enemy isdefeated, our troops have conquered, the Japanese army is in fullretreat! Knock at the doors and windows and shout into every home: wehave won, the enemy is retreating."

  The policeman hurried off, leaving big black footprints in the whitesnow, and he could be heard yelling out: "Victory, victory, we've beatenthe Japs!" as he ran.

  People began to collect in the streets and a coachman jumped down fromhis box and ran towards the White House, looking up at its lightedwindows.

  "Leave your carriage here," shouted the President, "and run as hard asyou can and tell everybody you meet that we have won and that theJapanese are in full retreat! Our country will be free once more!"

  Shouts were heard in the distance, and the noise of loud knocking. Andthen the President closed the window and came back into the room. Butwhen the Secretary of War wanted to read the balance of the message, hesaid: "Don't, Harry; I couldn't listen to another word now, but pleaserouse everybody in the house."

  Then bells rang in the halls and people were heard to stir in the rooms.There was a joyous awakening in the quiet capital that ninth day ofFebruary, the day that dispelled the darkness and the gloom.

  That day marked the beginning of the end. _The yellow peril had beenaverted!_