Great Pacific War: A History of the American-Japanese Campaign of 1931-33 (3 page)

At dawn on March 3 a large Japanese cargo steamer, the
Akashi
Maru
, owned by the Osaka Shosen Kaisha, arrived off Colon, where she was boarded by an American guard boat. She proved to be from Hamburg to Kobe, with a consignment of heavy machinery and railroad material. Her papers were quite in order, nothing of a suspicious nature was discovered by the inspecting party, and as no instructions had been received to hold up Japanese ships, it was decided to let the vessel pass through. The captain was told, however, that an armed guard would remain on board his ship while it was in the Canal zone, and as he raised no objection to this a party of four marines, under a corporal, were detailed to accompany the
Akashi
Maru
as far as Panama.

The huge freighter, of nearly 12,000 tons dead weight, was worked through the first locks and entered Gatun Lake eight miles astern of the American cruiser
Huron
, which had preceded her through the Gatun locks. Once out in the lake she steamed at her full speed of thirteen knots, making such good headway that at Bas Obispo, where the channel enters the famous Culebra Cut, she had reduced the distance between herself and the cruiser to five miles. It has always been thought that she wished to involve the
Huron
in the catastrophe about to occur; but in this she failed, for the American warship escaped injury of any kind. The
Akashi
Maru
was approximately midway in the Cut when a thunderous explosion was heard, and a gigantic column of water, smoke, and dust shot up to the sky. Blending with the echoes of this terrific detonation was heard a roaring sound, of which the sinister import was but too well known to those familiar with the Canal. The shock of the explosion had dislodged millions of tons of earth from the steep sides of the Culebra ravine, causing a landslide of infinitely greater dimensions than any that had been previously experienced.

When a party of Canal officials reached the scene of the disaster, an extraordinary spectacle met their gaze. A thick pall of dust still hung over the Cut, both sides of which had collapsed for a distance of nearly a thousand yards. Where a broad channel of water had existed half an hour before was now a solid rampart of earth twenty-five feet high. This, of course, was the bed of the Canal, which had been forced up by the overwhelming pressure of the adjoining hills. Of the Japanese steamer that had caused the havoc, not a vestige remained. It seemed impossible that a great ship could be utterly blotted out in the space of a few seconds, yet so it was. Fragments of her structure were eventually picked up miles from the scene of the explosion, but the ship herself and all on board had vanished completely.

It needed only a cursory glance to perceive the appalling extent of the damage. Landslides were of not infrequent occurrence in the Cut, and special machinery was held ready to cope with them. But no such cataclysm as this had ever happened before. Months must elapse ere a channel could be cut through the mountainous
debris
, and meanwhile the Canal would remain blocked at the very period when its use promised to be of vital importance to the United States. The mystery of the explosion which produced this fateful result has never been fully cleared up. The Japanese Government disclaimed all knowledge of the cause, contenting itself with the suggestion that the oil fuel of the
Akashi
Maru
might have caught fire and destroyed the ship — a theory dismissed by experts as too childish to be worth a moment’s notice. In their opinion nothing less than an immense quantity of high-explosives could have caused so tremendous a detonation. One of their number attributed it to at least a thousand tons of dynamite or blasting powder, and other estimates of the quantity of explosives were considerably higher.

Inquiry into the movements of the
Akashi
Maru
showed her to have arrived at Hamburg on January 15, 1931, from Kobe, with a mixed cargo, all of which was thought to have been discharged at the German port. She had then taken on board a full consignment of locomotives and heavy machinery, but there was no record of any explosives having been delivered to the ship at Hamburg. She sailed for Japan on February 5, and had thus taken twenty-six days to cover the run of five thousand miles to Colon — an unusually long time for a ship with an economical speed of ten knots. According to reports by other vessels on the route at approximately the same time, very little bad weather had been met with. The long duration of the
Akashi
Maru’s
voyage lent colour to the theory that she had been met at sea by some ship which had transferred a large quantity of explosives to the big freighter. This view was generally accepted, though no plausible explanation was forthcoming as to how a thousand tons of dynamite could have been stowed away without displacing cargo already in the hold, and in such a way as to remain hidden from the officials who had inspected the ship at Colon. The only other theory which in any way squared with the facts was that the explosives had been deposited on the bed of Culebra Cut by a Japanese steamer which had passed through several days, or even several weeks, previously, and that the
Akashi
Maru
had detonated the charge by some pre-arranged method. But whether those on board had deliberately sacrificed themselves and their ship, or whether, owing to some miscalculation, the explosion had been premature, remains to this day an open question.

Not only the Japanese Government, but the owners of the ship and their agents both in Japan and Europe, have consistently denied all knowledge of the facts or collusion in what was palpably a deep-laid plot for the blocking of the canal on the very eve of war. It is certain, at all events, that the United States Government would have made this outrage a
casus
belli
, even if Japan had refrained from committing other acts of hostility. From the American point of view, the disabling of the Canal was a calamity of the first magnitude, which threatened to ruin all the plans on which the strategical employment of the Navy had been based. While the greater part of the fleet was already in the Pacific, a number of important ships were still in the other ocean, and would now have to make a journey of thirteen thousand miles before reaching their war bases on the West coast.

This, however, was by no means the most serious consequence of the disaster. For several months, at least, it ruled out all the Atlantic coast navy yards as a factor of immediate value in the prosecution of the war. The entire Fleet in the Pacific would have to depend on the resources of local yards for its maintenance, and these were notoriously ill-equipped to supply the needs of a great naval force. Until the Canal was repaired, vast quantities of fuel, stores, and other war material required by the fleet must be shipped to the West Coast
via
Cape Horn, a voyage of nearly two months for the average cargo steamer, since the railroads would be able to undertake but a relatively small part of this traffic. It was therefore of supreme importance to get the Canal in working order again as quickly as possible. To excavate a passage sufficiently deep and wide for the largest ships would be a task of at least four months, according to the original forecast; actually, owing to further landslides which seemed to mock at the superhuman efforts put forth by all concerned, the work was not finished for six and a half months.

Meanwhile grave loss and disaster were to be suffered in consequence of the initial blow which Japan had delivered at her antagonist, as will appear in due course. An incident now occurred which, though trivial in itself, was destined to have far-reaching consequences on the naval campaign about to open. Following the news of the Culebra Cut explosion, all merchant ships in the Canal, or awaiting admission at Balboa and Colon, were ordered to anchor under the guns of the coast batteries, pending a thorough search of each vessel, regardless of the flag it flew. There was a not unnatural suspicion that some further outrage might be contemplated, for the purpose of intensifying the damage already caused to the Canal. A rigid censorship was placed on all communications from the Canal Zone, and no message was allowed to be sent which made any reference to the disaster. The idea was to keep the news secret for a few days, not only for military reasons, but to enable all incoming ships to be held up and searched, on the chance of finding another hidden cargo of explosives. It was, of course, probable that Japan had already taken measures to notify her shipping of the outbreak of war, in which case they would give the Canal Zone a wide berth; but, on the other hand, there was a bare possibility that some vessel, bent upon mischief, would enter the trap which had been set. As a further precaution, destroyers, submarines, and aircraft attached to the Canal Zone defences were ordered to patrol the Atlantic and Pacific within a radius of two hundred miles from Colon and Panama respectively. Their mission was to keep a vigilant watch over the approaches to the Canal, and if any vessel, finding itself under observation, sought to escape, to bring the suspect into port for examination.

At 8 a.m. on March 5 the United States submarine
S
4
, being then 150 miles north of Colon, sighted a large merchant steamer which displayed no colours. The vessel was steering due east, and therefore heading away from the Canal, but the fact that it altered course and appeared to increase speed on observing the submarine impressed Lieutenant Bradlow, commanding
S
4
, as a suspicious circumstance. He therefore raised speed to fifteen knots, and finding the steamer took no notice of his signal to heave-to, fired a blank shot from the 4-inch gun mounted on the deck of the submarine. Neither this nor a second blank charge had any effect, while the thick smoke pouring from the funnels of the mysterious vessel showed that her captain did not mean to be caught if he could help it.

What with the thick weather that limited visibility to a couple of miles, and the high speed at which the unknown ship was now steaming, Lieutenant Bradlow saw nothing for it but to take sterner measures if the chase were not to get clear away, and to permit that would have been contrary to his orders. So he caused a shell to be fired across the steamer’s bows. It pitched into the water less than a hundred yards ahead, but not the slightest attention was paid even to this peremptory summons. The mist was now so thick that the profile of the steamer could scarcely be made out; the submarine, though running at her best speed, could not overhaul the swift quarry, and the only way of compelling her to obey orders was to open fire in real earnest. This was done, but to avoid needless damage the first two shells were unfused. The first round fell short, though near enough to send a shower of water over the steamer's forecastle; the second, flying high, tore away a boat and demolished part of the deckhouse.

This proved to be enough, for the stranger promptly hove-to, at the same time hoisting the Japanese flag. In response to a megaphone hail from the submarine, which had now come within speaking distance, the captain announced his ship to be the
Nikko
Maru
, of the Nippon Yusen Kaisha, with passengers and cargo from New York to Valparaiso and Yokohama. His ordinary route, he added, would have taken him through the Canal, but having some hours previously intercepted a radio message which announced war between Japan and the United States to be imminent, he had decided to make for a Brazilian port to obtain instructions from his owners. He ended by protesting vehemently against the action of the submarine in firing into him, claiming to be well within his rights in trying to escape, as submarine attacks on merchant shipping were forbidden by international law.

At this point Lieutenant Bradlow broke off the parley by ordering the steamer to shape a course for Colon, and this was done under protest, the
S
4
following astern with her gun trained on the prize, the short voyage being accomplished without further incident. As soon as the
Nikko
Maru
reached Colon she was boarded and thoroughly searched, but nothing of a suspicious nature was found. Nevertheless, having been captured after war had broken out, she was held as lawful prize, and eventually put into service as a United States fleet auxiliary.

On receiving a detailed report of the circumstances from Lieutenant Bradlow, through the officer commanding the Canal Zone, the Navy Department officially approved his action. It was realised, however, that a dangerous precedent had been set, of which the enemy would not be slow to take advantage. Evidence of this was soon forthcoming in the shape of an official message from Tokyo, which announced to the world that since a United States submarine, in direct contravention of the Five-Power Treaty signed at Washington in 1922, had molested and fired on an unarmed Japanese merchant steamer, and since this illegal act on the part of the commander of the submarine had not been disavowed by the United States authorities, the Japanese Government had no option but to regard the said Treaty as null and void, and would, accordingly, reserve to itself the right to employ its own submarines in any way it saw fit. This led to much controversy among international jurists as to whether the action of
S
4
did, in fact, constitute a breach of the Treaty regulating the procedure of submarines with regard to merchant vessels. The pertinent clauses of the Treaty were as follows:

(1) A merchant vessel must be ordered to submit to visit and search to determine its character before it can be seized.