Yangtze Showdown Read online

  On the next day soon after noon a junk went alongside Amethyst and delivered a letter asking Kerans to go ashore for a meeting with Kung. The captain still did not want to leave his ship at such a difficult time and Lieutenant Hett went in his place, with an interpreter. Once again the talks began with the question of who was responsible for opening fire first, and this went on for some time, ending in deadlock. Kerans pointed out:

  No amount of persuasion could convince him that Amethyst did not open fire first. In actual fact Amethyst did not open fire until the ship had been hit and was aground. It seemed evident to Lieutenant Hett that the battery commander had been present all the time at San Chiang Ying and that it was not hasty errors on the part of his subordinates. The meeting continued and Major Kung assured us of our personal safety in this area once again and at the same time subtly recommending us to remain where we were. He made the rather limp statement that Chinese [Nationalist] naval units were still in the upper Yangtze and might attempt to break out – if we moved down river the batteries would be liable to mistake us for one of these units.

  Kung reiterated that a promise of safe passage could only come from the authorities in Nanking, and he suggested the British ambassador should make an approach. There were eight Chinese on board the ship, and Kung said they were free to go ashore. He was willing to give assistance, which was understood to mean medical help. Hett passed on a request for a meeting with the army commander in Chingkiang. Kerans reported: ‘There is no shadow of doubt that Major Kung could have been under no misapprehension regarding the identity of Amethyst. The number of direct hits on the starboard side, including the bridge, indicated that there was adequate time to identify the ship. He could not have genuinely thought that Amethyst fired first, and I came to the conclusion that he was adopting a policy of vacillation for his own ends.’2

  12

  The Navy Sails Away

  THE FIRST SEA LORD CAREFULLY considered the questions that had been raised in Parliament. Although Prime Minister Attlee gave answers, Admiral Fraser wanted to make his own assessment. After consulting Admiral Brind he decided there were five key points. Why was a warship used to supply stores for the British embassy and community instead of transport aircraft? Why was Amethyst not given fighter cover? When it was decided to use London and Black Swan, why was air support not asked for? Should the Admiralty have kept a closer watch? Why were there no aircraft carriers available?

  Fraser considered the background, which echoed the reasons for the navy wanting to resume patrols in China after the Second World War: ‘For years the White Ensign has been well known and respected on the China coast and on the Yangtze. There are innumerable examples right up to recent times of the steadying effect on both Europeans and Chinese of the presence of a British warship. By going about their ordinary business calmly and with dignity the British navy has frequently contributed greatly to the maintenance of law and order. It is quite clear in China now that this reputation, established during the last century, still stands.’

  Fraser noted that Amethyst had been carrying some stores for the embassy, but the main reason for her presence at Nanking was to reassure the British community and to provide communications for the ambassador. Transport aircraft could have been used to take supplies but there may have been complications using the city’s airfield, which was in Nationalist hands. On the questions relating to air support, it was clear that the ships were taking part in peaceful missions and fighter escorts would have been seen as a provocation. In any case, the only suitable planes, Beaufighters, were in Singapore and would have needed to operate from a Nationalist air base ‘thus participating in the civil war’. After the attack on Amethyst Vice Admiral Madden, rightly, was not concerned with reprisals. Fraser pointed out: ‘The possibility of reprisals or other action to redress the insult to our flag was for later consideration.’ And the use of air support for London and Black Swan would have been a clear act of war.

  Perhaps the most important question – and one pressed by Churchill – concerned the Admiralty’s awareness of decisions taken by the Far East Station. On this point Fraser was clear. The general policy of supporting the British community at a time of crisis was ‘fully recognised in London’. The policy had been reviewed in the January, and it was decided that the advantages outweighed the dangers. The First Sea Lord was also clear that it was ‘quite impracticable’ to control from a distance the day-to-day movements of ships. ‘This must be left to the local senior naval officer who, in consultation with the ambassador, can alone possess the necessary local knowledge of a fluctuating situation.’ On the question of aircraft carriers, these were withdrawn from the station at the end of 1947 because of poor facilities for training and to save money. However, the same arguments applied to carrier aircraft as to RAF fighters. It was not Madden’s intention to inflame a growing crisis.1

  In Nanking, Ambassador Stevenson remained at his post. Nationalist leaders had abandoned the capital, along with their soldiers and police, before the Communist takeover. There was considerable gunfire over several nights but this came from naval craft on the Yangtze. Before the PLA marched into the city local Communists broke cover and made some attempt to keep order in the face of looting by civilians. The looters targeted empty government offices and homes of officials who had fled as well as British firms. They took everything from plumbing and electrical fittings to windows and doors. At the airport the wealthy piled into planes with as many possessions as they could take, only to discover that the pilots had defected or disappeared. Demolition charges left by the Nationalists caused some civilian casualties and explosives destroyed the entrance hall of the railway station, although the tracks were undamaged. All shipping on the south bank appeared to be out of action. On the evening of 24 April, a small group of Communist soldiers entered the British embassy compound intent on making a search. It was pointed out to them that they could not do this without the permission of the ambassador. Stevenson reported: ‘They were quiet and good tempered but looked slightly sheepish. On my instructions they were told that I could not permit a search and it was suggested that they should go and seek orders from higher authority.’ The soldiers left and did not return.2

  The US ambassador, John Stuart, had a more unpleasant experience at his residence. He woke early on 25 April to find Communist soldiers in his bedroom. ‘I shouted at them asking what they were doing, and they withdrew, one or two muttering angrily,’ Stuart recalled.

  I jumped out of bed to see what it was all about when the whole group, some ten or twelve, returned and the spokesman quite politely explained that they were only looking around for fun and meant no harm. The soldiers were nothing more than country boys impressed into service and carefully indoctrinated. They had come with an easy victory to the great capital and were out seeing the sights. When they arrived at my front gate the terrified gateman on night duty lost his head and instead of reporting to the house as was the rule yielded to the threats and admitted the intruders. Still less did these rustics know anything about diplomatic immunity.

  The State Department told Stuart to make a strong protest but there were no diplomatic relations with the Communists and, as Stevenson had found, it was impossible to make contact with their leaders. However, the leadership did learn about the incident and the soldiers were held in custody for ‘further education’.3 Mao, in fact, gave instructions on how soldiers should behave towards foreigners in Nanking. All foreign institutions were to be protected but there would be no recognition of embassies or their diplomatic personnel. Foreigners would not be arrested even if they broke martial law regulations.4

  In Shanghai, the dead from Consort and London, along with a sailor from Amethyst who succumbed to his wounds, had been buried at Hung Jao Cemetery on 23 April. With some irony, the firing party was provided by Shoalhaven, which had remained at Shanghai in a communications role. Early the following day, Lieutenant Commander Skinner and an able seaman from London, Geoffrey Warwick, were buried at se
a by Consort as she made her way to Hong Kong. That day, a Sunday, also saw a memorial service at Shanghai Cathedral, which was attended by a large number of foreign residents and officers and men from all the ships there. One man noticeably missing from both services was Madden, who decided he should remain ‘in absolutely continuous touch with operations at this time’. The Sunday marked Anzac Day – another irony – but because of the crisis no special arrangements had been made, although Australian and New Zealand citizens in Shanghai were invited on board Shoalhaven in return for the hospitality the ship’s company had received.

  It is not known how this goodwill gesture went down with Madden, who had lost dozens of British sailors, but on 26 April he ordered Shoalhaven to leave Shanghai and go to Kure, Japan. Madden said this move had been planned for some, but the frigate’s captain, Lieutenant Commander William Tapp, was taken by surprise. At the time of sailing, he had no idea of his mission: ‘It was thought the government’s policy had effected Shoalhaven’s movements, but this was only partly confirmed by Radio Australia, whilst the ship was on passage, and then definitely by the Commander-in-Chief BCOF [British Commonwealth Occupation Force] on arrival at Kure.’5 Madden may have decided that he could no longer count on Australian warships and the presence of Shoalhaven was an embarrassment. He almost certainly came under renewed pressure from the Australian government. A report in the Sydney Morning Herald on 28 April stated: ‘It was learned in the highest authority today that the Australian government would not send any warships or troops to reinforce British and American forces in China unless requested to do so by the British government. The authority said that the British government was in charge of all Far Eastern stations.’ The Canberra government had, however, asked Britain to protect all Australian nationals.

  Despite the attack on four British warships and the rapid advance of Communist forces, Tapp had other concerns. He lamented that very little sport had been possible in Shanghai because April was the month for switching from hockey and football to cricket. And there had been more cases of venereal disease.6 The crews of Amethyst, Consort, London and Black Swan would all qualify for the Naval General Service Medal with the clasp Yangtze 1949. Remarkably, some of the men who were in Shoalhaven and Warramunga, which had made a hasty departure from Nanking in the January, also applied for the medal. Their requests were turned down.7

  Madden received a number of messages of sympathy. They included condolences from the acting president of China, Li Tsung-jen, the commander of the US Navy’s western Pacific fleet, Vice Admiral Badger, Foreign Secretary Bevin, Ambassador Stevenson, the Board of Admiralty and even the mayor of Widnes, Cheshire, which had links with Black Swan. No messages apparently were sent by Australia’s Prime Minister Chifley, Minister for External Affairs Herbert Evatt or the Chief of Navy Staff, Rear Admiral (later Vice Admiral Sir) John Collins.8 Chifley’s attitude was probably summed up by an answer he gave in the House of Representatives when asked about the fate of Amethyst. He said: ‘It is not our problem to enquire what the Royal Navy does about its ships …’9

  The swift advance of Communist forces was another headache for Madden, who faced two important questions. Should there be a general evacuation of British nationals from Shanghai? How long could he keep his ships there? If the Communists seized the Woosung forts near the mouth of the Yangtze, his vessels could end up being trapped on the Whangpoo River at Shanghai. Madden consulted the British consul, Robert Urquhart, Admiral Badger and the senior French naval officer. It was decided not to order Operation Legionary, the general evacuation plan. Instead, women and children were advised to leave, and people doing essential jobs were urged to remain. Operation Legionary involved sending in British troops. Madden reported: ‘It was now clearly inadvisable – even if possible – to land British troops at Shanghai and, in view of the Amethyst incident, the presence of the Royal Navy was likely to be an irritant to the People’s Liberation Army.’

  It was announced that women and children could sail in a Dutch ship, the Boissevain, on 28 April. A Royal Fleet Auxiliary, Fort Charlotte, was also made available. In the event, only 160 of the 700 places in Boissevain were taken and just twelve people boarded Fort Charlotte. Most preferred to remain in Shanghai. Foreign business interests in the city were so great that there was a widespread reluctance to abandon them. There was also a feeling that the Communist leaders would not want them jeopardised either. Communist soldiers were well disciplined and reports of their behaviour in Nanking – with only a few excesses – would have filtered through to Shanghai. By that time London and Constance had left along with Badger’s flagship, the USS Eldorado, an amphibious force command vessel, the USS Chilton, an attack transport, and the French minesweeper Commandant de Pimodan. Black Swan was the last warship to leave, having waited for the arrival of Boissevain.

  London, with Madden on board, headed for Alacrity anchorage at the Side Saddle Islands, east of Shanghai, where she rendezvoused with the cruiser HMS Belfast on 28 April.10 The admiral transferred to Belfast and decided to form Force 68. Ships would be stationed in the vicinity of Woosung and at Alacrity anchorage in case of a full evacuation of Shanghai and to help Amethyst if she emerged from the Yangtze.

  The American hospital ship Repose, carrying most of the wounded British sailors, went to Hong Kong. According to the Daily Express, the sailors were ignored by British residents. Under the page one headline, Nobody meets the Amethyst men, Bernard Wicksteed wrote:

  If I were a resident of Hong Kong, I would not be feeling very proud of myself today. On this day 77 wounded British sailors from the warships Amethyst, London, Consort and Black Swan – 44 of them stretcher cases – were landed by the US hospital ship Repose. And so far as I can see not one civilian in the colony has taken the slightest interest. From mid-morning till early afternoon ambulances have been taking the sailors from the dockside up the hill to the naval hospital on The Peak, where the wealthy have their homes.

  Not a steamer in the harbour hooted a welcome to the boys returning to British territory from the Yangtze. Not one extra flag was run up. The only band was part of a Chinese funeral passing the dock gates. No bystanders, no cheering, no interest.

  Wicksteed took a taxi to the hospital to check the reception there but found ‘not a soul but the hospital staff’. He continued: ‘Not one basket of fruit had been sent, not one book, magazine or newspaper, not even one cigarette from Britons living in Hong Kong to greet the boys.’ The correspondent pointed out that the men’s arrival had been publicised but it was a Sunday, ‘apparently a day for bathing and tennis and not a day for thinking of wounded men thousands of miles from home’. But Wicksteed then revealed that the naval authorities had not wanted publicity and reporters were barred from the dockside because newspapers in Shanghai gave details of wounds suffered by the casualties. At the hospital he saw the senior surgeon who ‘said he was glad someone showed interest’. Wicksteed was taken to a ward where there were five men who had two books donated by US sailors. One man described the scene in Consort’s wardroom where the doctor had his instruments laid out ready for an operation when a shell burst scattered them. The petty officer he was attending to on the table remarked casually: ‘Hey doc, look at this – the shell has just blown my knee-cap off.’11

  On the day the story appeared the Commodore Hong Kong sent an explanation to Lord Hall and Admiral Fraser: ‘Article is not merely exaggerated but incorrect as residents have accommodated ratings from Consort while on leave and both individuals and firms have sent gifts to Royal Naval Hospital for wounded and big subscriptions have been received for dependants and relatives of those who have lost their lives.’ The commodore decided he would not issue a denial but instead release a statement thanking those who had provided accommodation or sent gifts.12

  The Daily Express was not the only publication to make uncomfortable reading for those in authority. The Economist magazine launched a broadside at the Foreign Office. It reminded its readers Attlee had told the Commons that Amet
hyst, Consort, London and Black Swan were not designed to operate in rivers against massed artillery. The Economist pointed out: ‘As this limitation of sea power was perfectly well known to the naval authorities it would have been madness for them to send a frigate to Nanking if they had been sufficiently warned that the Communists were likely to attack it. It is not the profession of a naval officer to estimate a political situation; he must rely on civilian officials for advice about risks of being attacked.’ The Foreign Office was accused of passing the buck to the Admiralty by stressing that the Nationalist government had warned months earlier it could not guarantee the safety of foreign ships on the Yangtze. Yet British officials had been spreading optimism about the Communists, refusing to ‘entertain the idea that they might pass from anti-imperialism in words to saying it with anti-tank guns’.

  The Economist was right in questioning the response of diplomats, especially Ambassador Stevenson. At that stage it was not common knowledge that the Australian ambassador, Officer, and a US admiral, Badger, had quickly recognised the dangers of sending warships up the Yangtze at such a critical time. Stevenson knew of their misgivings, so why did he not warn Madden? Or were Stevenson and Madden blinded to the past power of the British Empire and the White Ensign?

  The Economist also questioned the point of having an ambassador in Nanking when the Communists had no diplomatic relations with Britain and were committing acts of war against it – ‘the presence of His Majesty’s envoy in the deserted capital is merely ridiculous and humiliating, an unnecessary gift of face for the murderers of British sailors and an invitation to blackmail’. The US government had recalled its ambassador for ‘consultation’, and the British ambassador should not have been kept in Nanking ‘a day longer’.13