The Old Navy

by Daniel P. Mannix

  Viceroy of China’s Chili Province; Lieutenant Mannix in left-hand window, second from right.

  One of them, a splendid-looking fellow, sat quietly, his yellow, slant-eyed face utterly impassive; apparently he didn’t understand a word of what was being said. Just then one of our officers entered and the Manchu jumped up and exclaimed in perfect American-English, “Why, hullo Bill! Do you ever get back to Cleveland? What ever became of Susie Smith? That was a girl for you!” We discovered that he had gone to school in Cleveland with our shipmate. His English was so fluent and colloquial that he seemed more like a disguised American than what he actually was.

  From Woosung we got underway for Chin Wang Tao in North China, one of the ports of Pekin and Tientsin, arriving after a four-days’ cruise. A group of us went on to Pekin. This was not too long after the Boxer Rebellion and we saw East Indian, Japanese soldiers, Cameron Highlanders, and various other foreign troops. I remembered the city vaguely.

  Pekin.

  The Boxer Rebellion broke out in 1900. For a long time before the Chinese had grown increasingly restless with the constant demands of the great powers for more land, more mining privileges, the right to collect taxes in their “spheres of influence” and the right to build railroads and run telegraph lines across rice paddies. Also, the steamers on the rivers took work away from the coolies who had previously hauled the barges by hand as I remembered as a child. In addition to these genuine grievances, there were many superstitions which may well have bulked larger with the people than their real problems. It was believed that the missionaries took in children in order to kill them and make magic potions from their bodies, that the railroads prevented the crops from growing and the telegraph lines poisoned the air. The Boxers (their real name was the Righteous Harmony Fists) claimed that they could expel all foreigners from China through magical powers. To prove it, they allowed themselves to be shot and then rose from the dead (they used blank cartridges). The old Empress Dowager, Tzu Hsi, who was still alive, supported them. She believed in their powers and used to sit in her palace repeating a magical charm they had guaranteed would kill foreigners. Every time she repeated it, her old eunuch Li Lien-ying would shout excitedly, “Another foreign devil has just dropped dead!”

  In June 1900, the Boxers occupied Pekin with the empress’s consent. The foreign legations barricaded their doors and sent for help. A relief force from the coast under the British admiral Seymour was turned back while the Boxers burned churches and looted stores that had dealt with the hated foreigners.

  The German minister Baron von Ketteler was killed and a Professor Jones beheaded after being tortured and his head exhibited in a cage. Scores of Chinese converts to Christianity were murdered and the Boxers opened fire on the legations with a light cannon. The excited Tzu Hsi declared war against the world.

  An international force seized the Taku forts that guarded the approaches to Pekin and advanced inland. They met a Chinese army and easily defeated it. Tzu Hsi put the elderly Li Hung-chang (who was known for his sympathy with foreigners) in charge of the city and then fled northward, disguised as a peasant woman, cutting off her six-inch nails, the mark of a lady of quality. The allies took Pekin, looting and burning great sections of it. The Russian took Manchuria and the other powers seized whatever they wished.

  I talked to a number of soldiers who had been in at the loot of Pekin. Having no idea of the value of jade, carvings, embroidery, precious stones, and paintings, most of them had taken virtually worthless junk while ignoring a king’s ransom in priceless artifacts. I have always felt that it is a great mistake not to give the military at least a basic course in how to distinguish fine workmanship. I have tried to learn something about objects d’art so as not to make this error.

  The allies were determined to dispose of Tzu Hsi for good, rightly considering her the sources of the trouble. This old woman who thought she could kill by magic and back in father’s day had refused to believe that guns could kill people, returned to Pekin and met the raging leaders of her combined enemies. She presented them with hand-carved ivory back-scratchers or some such thing, charmed them completely, and they ended by restoring her to power and sending their friend Li Hung-chang into exile. As Li himself had told father many years before, the empress didn’t know many things but she certainly knew how to handle men.

  Lt. Hung Chang. Painting presented to Capt. Daniel P Mannix, USMC.

  We went on to Port Arthur and anchored off Golden Hill. The shores of the harbor were literally lined with the wrecks of both men of war and merchant vessels, the results of the Russo-Japanese War of 1905. In a drydock was a big Russian cruiser lying on her side and riddled with shell holes; evidently the Japs had caught her while she was undergoing repairs. The hills surrounding the harbor were covered with human bones. No attempt had been made to bury the bodies; at least, not the Russians.

  Sunken Russian ships, Port Arthur.

  The Russo-Japanese War is nearly forgotten now, which is a pity as we could have learned some interesting lessons from it. We would have been prepared for the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor. On the night of February 8, 1904, the Japs attacked the Russian Fleet in the outer harbor of Port Arthur before any declaration of war. The only difference was that against the Russians they used destroyers; against us they used planes.

  Port Arthur.

  The Russo-Japanese War was a curious mixture of tactics out of the eighteenth century combined with modern technology. One was the case of the Russian destroyer Ryshitelni. She ran into Chefoo Harbor where she was followed by a Japanese destroyer whose officers and men boarded her as in the days of Nelson and during a rough-and-tumble fight on her decks, the two captains rolled overboard clasped in each other’s arms and continued fighting in the water. The Russians were defeated and the Ryshitelni was towed out of the harbor by the victorious Japanese in absolute defiance of the fact that China was a neutral country.

  I talked to some officers on the USS Wisconsin who told me of a sight none of them would ever forget. They were lying at anchor off Shanghai one summer’s day in 1905 when a great armored cruiser came dashing in at full speed from seaward. Four of her five stacks were standing; where the fifth had been was a gaping hole in her decks from which smoke and flames rose masthead high, a veritable floating volcano. Close at her heels, like hounds after a stag, sped two Japanese destroyers. She was the Askold escaping from the Battle of Tsushima. The Chinese authorities, whose duty it was to protect the ships in their harbor, hovered on the outskirts wringing their hands. They did not dare take any action in the face of a Japanese squadron that was just outside the harbor entrance. And yet many people think a nation can protect its sovereignty without a powerful navy!

  We received orders to proceed to Vladivostok in Manchuria, Russia’s principal port in the Pacific. There were rumors that affairs there were in a turbulent state owing to mutinies in the Russian Army and Navy. We had heard some talk of “Bloody Sunday” in Moscow back in 1905 when the Cossacks sabered some thousands of demonstrators in front of the Winter Palace for asking for a constitution, but most of us attributed these current reports to that famous disseminator of news the paper the Shanghai Liar. As we were soon to learn, events were taking place in that city which sounded more like the Dark Ages than the happenings of the twentieth century.

  On the morning of November 17th, the Rainbow entered Vladivostok Harbor. We passed the wreck of a destroyer partially submerged and riddled with shot holes which we innocently supposed dated back to the 1905 war. We anchored off the fortress and exchanged salutes with the shore batteries.

  The weather was bitterly cold, a long residence in the tropics having thinned our blood to such an extent that the mere sight of the bleak snow-covered hills was sufficient to chill us to the bone. Already there was a film of ice on the harbor water which the Rainbow cracked as she swung at her anchor. The temperature was about
five degrees Fahrenheit during the warmest part of the day.

  As soon as our gangway ladder was lowered the high officials came on board to pay their respects. The first was General Irman, commanding the forces. When he arrived the Marine Guard and the band were paraded in his honor. The band tried to play the Russian National Anthem but their valve instruments had frozen solid. A Russian band on shore had better luck playing “The Star Spangled Banner”. I couldn’t imagine how they did it and then noticed that even when not playing, the men kept the valves of their instruments constantly moving up and down.

  There was a pleasant-looking young officer, part of the general’s staff. He was wearing a very handsome Astrakhan hat and the jovial Clarence Edwards advised him, “Take that old muff off your head.” One of the other Russian officers told Edwards quietly, “You are addressing Prince Bariatinsky.” Fortunately the prince’s English was so limited that Edward’s suggestion made no impression.

  Having been at sea for nearly a week we were all anxious to dine ashore and left the ship as soon as we were off duty, accompanied by several of the Russian officers. It was shortly after seven o’clock and the night was clear as a bell and so cold that as soon as we landed we ran at full speed in the direction of a café, swinging our arms to keep the blood circulating.

  Inside all was gaiety, the large dining room being crowded to the doors. It was very like the restaurants in Vienna with transoms or sofas extending along the walls on which the guests sat with small tables in front of them. The music was furnished by a ladies’ orchestra and, in a moment of ill-advised generosity, I asked the orchestra what it would have, instead of ordering the wine and sending it to them myself. Needless to say the “artistes” took the most expensive beverage on the menu.

  The Russian officers looked particularly well in their tight-fitting overcoats of Confederate gray. They all carried heavy swords, which were more like cutlasses than swords proper, suspended from highly ornamental shoulder belts. I discovered later that these swords were ground to a razor edge unlike ours which are intended only for show.

  After dinner we went to a circus, and although it was excellent the audience interested me more than the performance. The frigid temperature in the tent can be imagined; the place was crowded and every spectator wore a fur cap and his coat collar rolled up until only the tip of his nose was visible. From the aperture between collar and cap clouds of frosty breath arose. The little Russian children, bundled up in their furs, looked like animated teddy bears. The performers, on the other hand, were clad as scantily as is customary in circuses but didn’t seem to mind the arctic temperature in the slightest. I have never seen finer physiques, particularly among the women.

  The next afternoon the admiral and his staff went ashore to return the official calls. We were given an escort of eight Cossacks, their carbines strapped to their backs. Perfect horsemen they were with faces flint in their severity.

  The town had the appearance of a besieged camp, soldiers everywhere. I was told later that there were a hundred thousand troops in and about Vladivostok. The place was certainly swarming with them; every block had about four sentry posts and each of these posts was occupied, not by a single sentry, but by a squad of infantry. The men themselves were splendid athletic fellows, but unless their faces belied them, the standard of intelligence was very low. Everywhere bayonets were fixed; one of the peculiarities of the Russian soldier is that he never unfixes his bayonet. I could not imagine why all these elaborate precautions were necessary, but I was soon to learn the reason.

  We made a tour of the town in troikas, or three-horse droshkies, the third horse being hitched to an outrigger which enabled it to pull at right angles to the others in rounding sharp corners suddenly. The vehicles traveled at a dead-run up hill and down and the seats had no backs. We kept passing men and girls in other troikas and invariably the man had his arm around the girl not, apparently from affection but to keep her from turning a back somersault in case the troika stopped suddenly.

  Crowds of people were on the streets pursuing the regular round of shopping and visiting, but everywhere there seemed to be a latent anticipation and uncertainty in the atmosphere. The reason for this universal uneasiness we did not learn until the last evening of our stay as the Russian officers were singularly uncommunicative about it.

  Prince Bariatinsky took us to the officers’ club and proved to be an interesting raconteur (of course through a translator). He had won the St. Andrew’s Cross for bravery at Liao Yan in the Russo-Japanese War and said the Japanese were good soldiers but whenever his men resorted to the bayonet, the Japs would invariably fall back and commence shooting. Considering the size of his men and the excellent targets they must have presented we could hardly blame the Japs. He also said that the Russians were always outnumbered at least four to one.

  An armistice between the two combatants was arranged largely by President Theodore Roosevelt and the peace treaty signed in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. It was highly favorable to Japan and started Japan on her rise to being a world power. It makes one cynical to remember how warmly Americans sympathized with the Japanese at the time. Our people actually thought that Japan was a “little fellow” being jumped on by a big bully. I remember a joke very popular at the time which went, “We have learned that ‘Banzai’ is the Japanese for ‘Hurrah’. We haven’t yet learned what the Russian for ‘Hurrah’ is.”

  None of the Russian officers we met showed any resentment of the attitude of our country although Prince Bariatinsky did say that without the American interference the war would have had a very different outcome. Reinforcements were pouring into Manchuria from Russia daily, and the Japanese were getting further and further from their bases and finding it more and more difficult to get supplies and men to the front. He said the armistice was so unpopular with the officers of the Russian Army that a “round robin” was circulated protesting the cessation of hostilities. I don’t know about the Russian Army but the Russian Navy certainly didn’t show up well in that war. One of the amazing examples of their inefficiency was their permitting the Japanese scout destroyers that were trailing them to report their movements to Togo and the fleet at will without mixing up their messages by using their own wireless, a basic precaution. As a result, Admiral Togo was able to trap and destroy the Russian Fleet in the Sea of Japan.

  I believe our interference in the war was a mistake. We did it with the idea that we were protecting a weak nation from a strong one, but we didn’t know the circumstances. Neither our government nor our people really understand international politics, so we permitted Japan to start her upward climb. In 1941 at Pearl Harbor we were to pay a terrible price for that error.

  I met only one person who did show resentment. A very lovely Russian girl (many of the Russian women were really stunners) said to me, “Why were you against us and for those creatures? Are we not white, are we not Christians?” I had no answer.

  At our reception in the Military Club, we were decidedly puzzled by the number of dishes that greeted us on a table in the first room we entered. Several of us thought that this was the dinner itself but, fortunately before we had indulged too heartily we discovered that these dishes were merely appetizers. The Russians are as good trenchermen as they are hosts. I must admit that I was disappointed in their national drink, vodka. I had heard a great deal of its potency and how even a small glass would make you drunk. It turned out to be a clear liquid not unlike gin and certainly no stronger. It was completely tasteless.

  There were a number of ladies at the party, many of whom showed Tartar or other Oriental blood by the very pronounced slant of their eyes, which, combined with perfect pink and white complexions, proved as attractive as it was unusual. We had such a good time that we had to be told to go home when the party was over.

  The vodka loosened the tongues of our hosts so before we left, we at last heard the story that accounted for the sunken de
stroyer in the harbor and the general uneasiness in Vladivostok.

  There had indeed been a mutinous outbreak instigated by professional agitators or anarchists. They had come from Petersburg for the purpose. Their chief was a young girl. She met the captain of one of the Russian destroyers and by her beauty and charm completely fascinated him. He invited her to his cabin on board ship.

  As soon as they had descended the ladder leading to the officers’ quarters she drew a revolver and killed her host who was in the act of assisting her down the narrow companionway. Then she found her way to the room of the only other officer on board, who was lying ill in his bunk, and shot him also. Her mission successfully accomplished she went on deck and hoisted the red flag of the revolutionists.

  This was to have been the signal for a general uprising both on the ships and among the garrisons of the harbor fort but, at the critical moment, the majority of the mutineers lost their nerve. The crew of the destroyer on which the girl had raised the flag joined her as did one other vessel, the crew killing their officers. The two mutinous ships then began to bombard the town but the loyal destroyers fired on them, sinking one and forcing the other to escape to sea. This vessel was still at large in the Pacific, a veritable pirate under irresponsible command.

  The girl chief of the revolutionists was on the ship that sank. She managed to reach shore in a dinghy with several members of the crew but, as the officer who told me the story related, “The soldiers in the fort were very angry; I have never seen them so angry. They came running down to the water and fired volley after volley into her and her companions.”

  The incipient revolt in the Fleet and Army was quelled with an iron hand. The day before we entered the harbor, the authorities executed one hundred and twenty of the mutineers. A great military funeral with many hundred-rubles-worth of flowers was given the murdered officers.