Very soon now a new ribbon will take its place alongside the time-honored decorations and campaign medals of the past. That medal is known as the “Yangtze campaign medal” and will be awarded to those officers and men serving on designated vessels in the Yangtze River Valley between September 3, 1926, and October 21, 1927. The exact method of arriving at the above date is not known to the writer, but as both dates coincide with the service of the U.S.S. Stewart on the Yangtze, it may be interesting to know just how and under what conditions the “campaign” opened, as far as one vessel was concerned.
On September 1, 1926, two days before the opening of the campaign, the fifteenth destroyer squadron was assembled at the summer base, Chefoo, Shantung Province, North China, completing a concentrated period of training for battle practice. The last bore sighting and director checks were completed, and, of necessity, thoughts turned towards leaving Chefoo for the cruise through the Straits Settlements and East Indies. Families were ready with tickets bought and were standing by to leave for Shanghai or Manila.
As the Stewart was scheduled to visit Shanghai, I had made all arrangements to send my family to that city. I left them on the morning of the first, all ready to sail at 6:00 p.m., feeling confident that I would see them within two or three days. They sailed as planned and passed close aboard us where we were anchored making our last minute preparations for the next day’s practice. Little did I think that it would be over a month before I heard from them again.
Early in the morning of the second, Stewart was first on the range, being observed by officers and men from Noa. On completion of our firing our officers and party of men went aboard Noa, the next to fire. Noa took her position, steamed down the range and fired her practice, receiving at the finish a startling surprise in the form of a priority dispatch worded something like this:
Stewart and Noa return to Chefoo, fuel and provision to capacity and proceed Hankow China report to Commander Yangtze Patrol period speed of twenty-five knots authorized.
As Stewart was also addressed our observing party’s one thought was of getting back on board as soon as possible. However, we yet had to pick up the Noa’s torpedoes and assemble data before returning to port. It was understood that we would return to Chefoo in Noa and then transfer our party, but shortly another complication arose. Another priority dispatch canceled Noa’s orders and ordered Pope to take her place on the Hankow expedition. Just at that time we saw Stewart going full speed toward Chefoo, her officer personnel depleted to skipper and chief engineer, and her crew lacking about twenty men. Since Noa’s sailing orders were canceled, she would have to remain outside and perform her regular duties as target vessel, chase torpedoes, etc.
Finally in the afternoon, Noa received permission to proceed to port to transfer Stewart’s observing party. Most of us had left port the day before expecting to have several more opportunities to “pay our way out of Chefoo.” Everyone had club chits and other business to attend to ashore as well as a celebration of the completion of battle practice. We steamed into Chefoo at about 5:30 p.m. to find Stewart alongside the tanker Pecos. As we came up over the sea ladder, the captain met us with the news: “We are sailing immediately!” And sail we did, divesting ourselves of the last of our Chefoo Chinese into sampans after we were under way.
Standard speed 25 knots, 600 miles to Woosung, the nearest port on the Yangtze River to Shanghai, 600 miles from Woosung to Hankow, and conditions awaiting us uncertain! In the meantime we had received word that we would pick up two native river pilots at Woosung, one day pilot and one night pilot. The fact that we were to steam up river night and day made our venture seem even more exciting and uncertain. Our presence must be urgently needed if night steaming on the river was required. Most vessels anchor at nightfall, due to uncertain navigational lights and changing channels.
All day of the third we tried to make preparations for many kinds of imaginary emergencies, although the ship was rolling heavily in the China Sea. Machine guns, rifles, and main battery were all checked over and placed in readiness for use, and by 5:00 p.m. we were ready for anything and everything, or so we thought.
We arrived at Woosung just at dark and; while waiting for the pilots, the ship carrying my wife and two children steamed past us. I tried frantically to send a signal, even to hail and inform them of our destination, but to no avail. It afterwards developed that no one on board that merchant ship knew that we were in the harbor. As a result, my family waited in Shanghai without knowledge of our whereabouts until newspaper accounts of later happenings informed them.
Our pilots did not come aboard until midnight, owing to some error in their instructions. At that time we got under way and stood up river as far as the first crossing. Here our pilot demurred on going ahead before daylight, so we dropped anchor and waited until dawn. From that time on we went ahead making the best speed possible, considering the width of the river, until we reached Hankow.
At this point it might be well to sketch the military situation in the Yangtze valley, in order to give some idea of the fertile field in which we could sow the seeds of our imaginations. I attempt no accurate estimate of the situation.
The armies of Southern China, under the Canton government, had made rapid strides in their drive to the northward. They termed themselves the Nationalist or Kuomintang (People’s Party) and their objective was the overthrow of the Peking government. On September 4, they had reached the Yangtze River in the vicinity of Hankow. Here there are really three cities, Hankow and Hanyang on the north bank, and Wuchang on the south side of the river. General Wu Pei Fu was there in command of the armies of the North, or Peking government, and was stubbornly resisting the Nationalists’ attempts to gain territory beyond the Yangtze. One unit of his command was still in the walled city of Wuchang across the river, and had been under siege for some time. Reports of unbelievable conditions within that city’s walls were leaking out. Systematic bombardments of Wuchang and daily exchanges of shells between the Southern forces and the naval vessels under Wu Pei Fu directly in front of Hankow were reported. Foreign shipping was being fired upon, mostly from the south side of the river. The American steamer Iling was heavily fired upon about fifty miles below Hankow on September 4. The British had their go at Wanhsien, losing many lives, among them the executive officer of H.M.S. Despatch. The captain, as well as a number of men, of the British gunboat Cockchafer had been severely wounded. Foreigners of all nationalities had been evacuated from all ports from Hankow to Chungking, foreign goods were subject to boycott, and all treaty ports were being patrolled by landing parties from foreign men-of-war in an attempt to protect lives and property.
At three o’clock in the morning of September 5, Stewart, followed by Pope, was fifty miles below Hankow, steaming at 20 knots. The night was very dark. Without warning a heavy rifle and machine gun fire was opened on us from the south bank of the river, and it came so unexpectedly that it was impossible to estimate its exact direction or volume. Needless to say, it threw the ship into a mild panic for a few minutes. The ship was struck many times and two men received flesh wounds. No attempt was made to return this fire because of inability to locate its source. At daybreak we were able to examine the damage closely and found, among other things, holes in our number three and four stacks, several of them as big as an egg. We afterwards heard rumors of 45-caliber machine guns firing explosive projectiles. We must have stopped a few of them that night.
We arrived in Hankow early in the morning and anchored in the river just below the American consulate. There we found men-of-war of the United States, Great Britain, France, Italy, and Japan. Rear Admiral H. H. Hough, U. S. Navy, Commander of Yangtze Patrol, was senior naval officer present flying his flag in U.S.S. Elcano. To him we reported for duty.
The river was quite high, hence most of the ships were anchored fairly close to the Hankow Bund, filling practically all berths. It was necessary for us to anchor well out in the stream and a peculiar condition resulted later from this arrangement.
Our occupation for the next few days was one of watchful waiting and gaining information of local conditions. Every morning we were treated to the sight of Wuchang under bombardment. The city was on fire at several points. Equally systematic was the daily parade up stream of General Wu’s gunboats. They would come slowly up stream, always keeping inside of us, that is, between us and the Hankow Bund. It seemed that when they reached a point abreast of us, the troops on the south bank of the river would open fire at them. Possibly the southerners figured they could kill two birds with one stone. Fortunately none of our personnel was struck, but it kept us busy keeping our port side cleared during these daily visits. One day General Wu’s yacht stood upstream and anchored just ahead of us and a little on our starboard bow. During the morning excitement, some southern gunner got overly ambitious and decided to do away with the general’s yacht. He opened fire with some of his heavy artillery, one shell striking just off our bow. We had the unique distinction of being daily under fire without being under way or able to retaliate in any manner. While anchored here hundreds of bodies of Chinese soldiers were constantly floating past us, indicating the severe fighting going on above.
Things were to be different, however. On the evening of the ninth, orders were issued for Stewart to proceed up river with a convoy consisting of Palos, Pigeon, and several merchant vessels. Palos was on her way to Ichang and Pigeon, with a deck cargo of coal, was to accompany Palos until necessary to transfer the coal to the latter vessel. Our orders were to accompany the convoy to a point of safety then return to Hankow. The interesting part of our orders, however, was contained in the last paragraph, which read: “If fired upon and source of fire can be determined, you are authorized to silence such fire with suitable battery.” What a relief! What a feeling after days of passive submission to indiscriminate firing. Needless to say we were busy that night. Every firearm on board was gone over and issued out. Every available man was assigned to a station and when we got under way the next morning we had the pleasure of running the Stars and Stripes to the fore truck for the first time.
Our captain, Lieutenant Commander Frank Slingluff, U. S. Navy, was in command of the convoy and he elected to send the merchant vessels ahead followed by Pigeon, Palos, and Stewart. We had much the superior speed and could change our position at will. Just above Hanyang the fun began. Heavy firing came from the Hanyang side and, for the next fifteen minutes or more, all ships were under constant fire. Pigeon and Palos opened up with machine guns as did Stewart. Most of the firing was coming from troops hidden along the water front, and our point of aim consisted of spurts of smoke indicating a machine gun emplacement. Our machine gunners were sweeping such points and thirty riflemen were emptying thirty Springfields as rapidly as a gun location could be spotted. One member of the crew was found standing on top of number three torpedo tube with a Colt .45 automatic in each hand. He said he was a “two-gun man” from Texas and going strong. Even so our fire was, as yet, ineffective, for the shells continued to sing. It is said that when you hear a bullet sing you are safe. It’s an unpleasant sensation, however, regardless of the safety implied by that peculiar buzz followed by the crack of the delayed report.
From all appearances we were in for a good long peppering unless something could be done to end it quickly. The captain ordered our three inch anti-aircraft to open fire with its shrapnel. Sad to say this gun jammed after firing three rounds. At this moment we located a nest of machine guns mounted in an old pagoda, near, but a little back, of the fore shore. It was simply spitting fire. At that same moment the captain ordered fire opened with number three 4-inch gun. The 4-inch guns were prepared to fire service ammunition, pointer fire at point-blank range. Number three was given a point of aim as the base of this pagoda and ordered to commence firing. Taking a careful aim the pointer laid his very first shot squarely in the base of the pagoda; an explosion followed, a cloud of dust and the war was over for the day. Firing by the Chinese ceased immediately and we proceeded up river as peacefully as can be imagined.
Just above Hanyang we came upon the Jardine river steamer Kiangwo, anchored near the right bank of the river. She hailed us and signified that she was in need of medical supplies. The medical officer of the Palos immediately put off to board her. When he returned, our captain ordered Palos and Pigeon to proceed on duty assigned and we hove to within hailing distance of the Kiangwo. She, of course, was flying the British flag and her captain called over that he had the wounded British officers and men from the Wanshien affair on board and that it was urgently necessary to have them reach Hankow. Captain Slingluff offered to convoy the Kiangwo down river but this offer was refused. We then offered to take off the wounded and transport them to Hankow. This latter plan was finally agreed upon and our motor launch with stretchers aboard put off. I happened to be sent in this boat and on boarding the merchant ship I was met by the British naval medical officer attending the wounded. He told me that Lieutenant Commander Atcheson, R.N., Commanding Officer of H.M.S. Cockchafer, would receive me in his stateroom. I had heard that this officer was seriously wounded and expected to find him in bed. Much to my surprise he was sitting in his chair to receive me! I could not help but admire such a show of military courtesy even in the face of intense pain. We made arrangements to transfer all of his men to Stewart. This was accomplished by taking the bed patients one at a time, then the men able to walk in one trip. As soon as they were all made comfortable we proceeded down river.
Needless to say we were flying our battle colors and all guns were loaded. Our salute of the upward journey had proved more than effective, however, for not a single shot was fired at us on our way down. On arrival in Hankow we moored near H.M.S. Hawkins, flagship of Vice Admiral E. S. Sinclair, Commander in Chief, British Asiatic Squadron, who had recently arrived in the port. There we gave over our passengers to their anxious brother-officers and shipmates.
The next morning, September 11, H.M .S. Bee went up river and convoyed the Kiangwo to Hankow, having a good scrap at or near the scene of our battle of the day before.
The remainder of our stay in the Yangtze Valley during that month was practically uneventful. Our journey down river on completion of this particular duty was marred only by scattered firing with rifles from time to time. On arrival at Woosung we were ordered to proceed direct to Cavite for overhaul, closing the first episode of U.S.S. Stewart’s participation in the Yangtze River valley campaign.
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“War is an act of violence to compel our opponents to do our will.” Consequently, the first desideratum of a war plan is that the means adopted must conflict as little as possible with the political conditions from which the war springs. In practice, of course, as in all human relations, there will be a compromise between the means and the end, between the political and the military exigencies. But Clausewitz held that policy must always be the master. The officer charged with the conduct of the war may, of course, demand that the tendencies and views of policy shall not be imcompatible with the military means which are placed at his disposal; but however strongly this demand may react on policy, in particular cases, military action must still be regarded only as a manifestation of policy. It must never supercede policy. The policy is always the object; war is only the means by which we obtain the object, and the means must always keep the end in view.—Corbett.