Yangtze Showdown Read online

  The Economist’s criticism of diplomats certainly stung the British consul in Shanghai, Robert Urquhart, who fired off a letter to the Foreign Office’s Far Eastern Department. Urquhart pointed out that in the February he had warned against warships using the Yangtze.

  I personally canvassed the desirability of establishing the principle that warships should be withdrawn on the near approach of the Reds … The main point I am now making is to establish how dangerously wrong even the best newspaper can be, and to invoke your help to correct the attempt to fix any responsibility for the tragedy on me as distinct from the general service responsibility, of which I take my share although my precautionary views were overruled both by the ambassador [Stevenson] and the admiral [it is not clear if Urquhart was referring to Brind or Madden].

  The consul also pointed out that no civilians on shore, ‘which includes me’, had known of Amethyst’s sailing from Shanghai on 19 April until late on the eve of the disaster.14

  A Foreign Office official, W B Hesmondhalgh, took up Urquhart’s protest and approached two members of The Economist’s staff dealing with the Far East and tried to point out to them ‘the error of their ways’. Hesmondhalgh admitted: ‘I have had little success. They appeared to hold strong views on the subject … they showed no sign of departing from views highly critical of His Majesty’s government’s policy in China.’ But the press generally had recognised the value of Urquhart’s work in Shanghai and in view of that, Hesmondhalgh recommended that no specific action be taken. The significant point that Urquhart had warned Stevenson and ‘the admiral’ against using warships was not pursued.15

  Mao and his generals could not believe how easy it had been to rout the sizeable Nationalist forces south of the Yangtze, especially those in Nanking. Nationalist positions over a wide area fell quickly. Deng Xiaoping, a political commissar of the Second Field Army and a future leader of China, noted: ‘We did not encounter fierce resistance anywhere. We made a wide, frontal crossing from scores of places, meeting with no substantial resistance in most places … Beginning on the night of April 20, nearly all the 300,000 men crossed the river in a twenty-four hour period, plunging the enemy troops into chaos. With just one thought on their minds – breaking out of the encirclement – they fled southward helter-skelter.’16

  The Nationalist general who had the task of defending Nanking, Tang Enbo, took his retreating force to Shanghai, where he set up defensive positions around the port. Tang, nicknamed Iron Man, had 200,000 defenders. The month of May would see some fighting for control of the city but before it was out the Communists would emerge the victors. However, the success of the Communist armies and the growing confidence of Mao and his generals were about to make it more difficult to get Amethyst’s release.

  13

  A Chinese Puzzle

  A NEW FACE APPEARED IN the late afternoon of 2 May. Captain Tai Kuo-liang, the local garrison commander, came alongside Amethyst in a sampan, accompanied by two soldiers. He was invited on board and Kerans spoke to him in his cabin. Also present were Hett and the Chinese steward acting as an interpreter. There appeared to be good news. Captain Tai had a message from General Liu Po-cheng in Nanking that agreement for the ship’s safe passage would be given in ‘a short time’. Tai declined to give more details, saying the general was very busy. Again, Kerans was told that Amethyst would be safe provided she made no attempt to move. He was asked to give an assurance in writing, stating the ship’s position, and he agreed. Kerans asked for news about two wounded ratings who had been taken to the mission hospital at Changchow. Stoker Mechanic Samuel Bannister and Keith Martin, a boy seaman, were ‘inadvertently’ left behind on stretchers near Changchow after the main group evacuated Amethyst on 20 April. Both had shrapnel wounds and were known to be in Communist hands, and Kerans was keen that they should return to the ship if their condition allowed. One positive point during the meeting was that Tai did not bring up the question of who had fired first. ‘I felt that at long last we were really getting somewhere,’ Kerans reported.

  The following day a junk with two traders offering eggs and potatoes arrived and the ship exchanged rice and flour for the produce. It added a touch of normality. Less normal was the fact that the Communists had set up another battery about half a mile away up river on the south bank. Any craft not flying a red flag was fired on – and so were some of the vessels displaying that symbol. With Madden’s approval, Kerans was trying to make contact with the area commander in Chingkiang, Yuan Chung-hsien, who seemed to be another ‘busy’ general.

  On 8 May Captain Tai made a second appearance, this time with an invitation for the Chinese on board to attend a party being held by General Yuan the following day. Kerans was surprised that the general could spare time for Amethyst’s stewards and laundrymen, and he was also aware that they could be interrogated and used for propaganda. He told Tai he could not spare them but the officer replied that a refusal to accept the invitation would result in the men being forced to leave Amethyst. Kerans did not wish to jeopardise an early agreement for safe passage and agreed that six of the eight Chinese could go. He then pressed the issue of when he would receive permission to leave. Tai was evasive but said he expected a messenger to return from Nanking shortly. The next day Tai turned up in a launch to take the six Chinese to the general’s party – ‘a dumber and more unenthusiastic collection it would be hard to find’. The group had lunch and then went to a Chinese temple on Chiaoshan Island, where there was a service for Amethyst’s dead Chinese. In the early evening the new battery on the south bank opened fire with machine guns at a steamer heading up river, even though the vessel was flying a red flag and carrying Communist troops. Most of the bullets came ‘unpleasantly close’ to Amethyst. A few minutes later Captain Tai returned with the Chinese and Kerans protested about the attack. Kerans wondered if flying a red flag might be one of the conditions of an agreement and he asked Madden for advice. The admiral decided that a red flag could be flown in addition to the White Ensign.

  On 13 May Hett went ashore to check with Tai if there was any news but ‘the usual replies of another telegram to Nanking and communication difficulties were made’. The day saw further bartering for eggs and potatoes. The delaying tactics of the Communists had become a major concern for Kerans, who feared that his ship might be trapped for a long time. As approaches to Nanking were proving fruitless, he wondered about asking the local command for permission to move down river to the limit of the Chingkiang operational area, perhaps to Kiangyin. Time would be saved and there was always the possibility of slipping away from Kiangyin under cover of darkness. Kerans suggested this possibility to Madden, who advised that it would be unwise to lose his local contacts as an agreement from Nanking was ‘still clearly a possibility’.1

  Captain Tai appeared alongside in a sampan on 17 May and suggested that an agreement might not come until the fall of Shanghai. Kerans wondered how much information Tai was passing on to his superiors. His letters were still not being answered. Getting ashore was a problem as it depended on the weather and ‘the whim of a small sampan’. There was another problem – he did not trust the man he was using as an interpreter, But Sai Tin. Hett, who had taken the steward ashore, formed the same opinion. Most of the time But appeared to be carrying on his own conversation with Tai, and ‘Chiang Kai-shek’ and ‘KMT’ (Kuomintang of China, Chiang’s political party) were frequently heard. Kerans was also suspicious because the steward said he wished to return to his native Wei-hai-wei, a port in north-east China, even though his family were in Hong Kong. Kerans noted: ‘He undoubtedly had the remaining Chinese on board firmly under his control. He mended his ideas later and by the end of our time in the Yangtze was firmly convinced that Communism was the wrong horse to back.’ There were also doubts about Captain Tai. Was he a committed Communist? Tai, a former student in Shanghai, was young for his rank and perhaps overconfident. Later on Kerans would come up with a plan to try to get him to defect ‘and help me with certain matters�
��. But the plan was dropped after Kerans discovered that security agents were watching Tai closely.2

  On 18 May Hett went ashore in an attempt to arrange an interview with the area commander. He was unsuccessful, but that afternoon saw a development. Two young army captains arrived aboard Amethyst with a written demand to enter into talks for a settlement. So, after nearly a month trapped on the Yangtze, only now were serious discussions on the table. Kerans had made no progress towards freedom. The interview took place in English and was ‘somewhat frigid’. The area commander, General Yuan Chung-hsein, had appointed Colonel Kang Mao-chao as his representative for negotiations. The Commander-in-Chief, Far East Station, was required to appoint a representative – Kerans or another officer. The talks would centre on responsibility for ‘invading’ territory of the PLA by British warships. Kerans expressed the commander-in-chief’s view that the ships were engaged in peaceful activity and that it was a matter for Nanking to settle at the highest diplomatic level. Back came the reply that the Communists did not have diplomatic relations and it would have to be settled at a local level. Kerans reported: ‘They went on to state that safe conduct could be given by their headquarters but that it would not be discussed until a meeting had been convened and my credentials as a representative to negotiate were acceptable. The meeting was closed after it was pointed out that any projected movement of Amethyst would draw fire from their batteries.’3

  It was clear that negotiations would be lengthy. Another concern was the ship’s dwindling stock of fuel. On 20 May there were 170 tons, and it was decided to save fuel by shutting down all power at night. Admiral Brind, the commander-in-chief, who had returned to the Far East from London, recognised the fuel problem and thought Amethyst might run out by the end of the month. He proposed a rather dramatic solution to break the deadlock. If the Admiralty had no objection, he would fly to Amethyst, hoist his flag and attend talks with the Communists. He told Ambassador Stevenson: ‘This offers far the best chance to release Amethyst and possibility of British warships being impounded is serious enough to justify risks involved.’

  If the negotiations failed he would warn that he planned to sail Amethyst down river. Brind was optimistic: ‘It is most unlikely that Communists would fire in the circumstances, particularly if we take every possible step by broadcasting and other means to tell Communist government.’ Not taking action risked losing the ship to the Communists and the remaining crew becoming prisoners. ‘I recognise it may be said we cannot afford another Amethyst incident in any circumstances and that to move her in face of every warning and without support is courting this. The best answer is, of course, success but apart from this the Communists have no right whatsoever to detain ship or to fire. Both sides of river are in their hands to Woosung and no battle area is involved.’ Brind estimated that the risk was small and the chances of success good, and it was time to call the bluff of the Communists.4

  Brind’s plan rang alarm bells at the Admiralty immediately. The First Sea Lord, Admiral Fraser, warned there was a real risk of failure. In view of what had happened already, there was little chance of rescuing Amethyst with a surprise gesture. Failure would have three serious drawbacks: relations with the Communists would be further embittered, with far-reaching effects, particularly in Shanghai and Hong Kong; the British government would be justifiably criticised at home; and there would be a further loss of prestige. Ministers favoured the current efforts to get negotiations going.5

  Brind dropped his plan to fly to Amethyst. On 20 May Ambassador Stevenson told the admiral he was concerned at the Communist demand for an admission of responsibility, which he saw as an attempt at blackmail. ‘The Communists are, of course, encouraged to adopt this intransigent attitude because they hold the ship and crew as virtual hostages,’ the ambassador noted.

  I feel that nevertheless we ought to resist as far as possible this unilateral attempt to force an admission of responsibility for the incident upon us. In doing so, we inevitably run the risk of the ship being held up indefinitely. I fear, however, that this risk cannot be avoided in the circumstances. It is useless to adopt logical argument in reply to the communication addressed to Lieutenant Commander Kerans, who is in my opinion carrying on with admirable spirit and persistence. Local Communist headquarters are not likely to listen to reason in their present state of mind as disclosed by these latest developments.

  Kerans needed to tell the Communists that he was not in a position to discuss controversial issues, which must be referred to his superiors. He could only deal with arrangements for the safe passage of Amethyst down river without the risk of further misunderstanding. In the meantime, the PLA should accept full responsibility for the safety of the ship and her crew.

  Stevenson was obviously worried about Brind’s proposal to force the issue and hoist his flag in Amethyst – and probably unaware that it had been vetoed by Admiral Fraser – because shortly afterwards he sent another message, stressing the need for patience: ‘I fear we have no practical choice but to reconcile ourselves to a long drawn out and frustrating wait. Nevertheless despite hardships and nervousness unavoidable to the gallant crew of the ship, there is unfortunately no safe alternative to peaceful methods. I am convinced that we cannot afford the risk of another clash with Communists.’ The Communists would have strong grounds for using force against any ships and aircraft that entered Chinese territory without permission as they now controlled key parts of the Yangtze. However, Stevenson was not opposed to Kerans suggesting that the commander-in-chief was willing ‘in the interests of reasonable relations’ to go to Nanking or Amethyst to discuss the issues with a PLA officer of similar rank.

  On 24 May Kerans went to General Yuan’s headquarters in Chingkiang, delivering the message that he was unable to discuss controversial issues. A meeting followed and Kerans, without an interpreter, felt ‘extremely lonely’ facing a ‘battery of Communism’, which included Colonel Kang and press and propaganda representatives. The general made it clear that negotiations were not taking place in Nanking, and he refused to discuss Amethyst’s safe passage until the Royal Navy accepted responsibility for the Yangtze Incident. A political officer handed over a translated memorandum for Brind, accusing Amethyst and the other ships of invading China’s inland waters and positions of the PLA. Amethyst was also accused of firing first, and it was claimed that the British ships were involved with Nationalist forces. As well as accepting responsibility, Britain would have to pay compensation for the loss of life and property.

  Kerans stressed that Amethyst’s passage to Nanking was given full clearance by the ‘competent authorities’ and that it had been impossible to contact the Communists. Kang pointed out that his party’s central executive committee decided in February 1947 that it would not recognise any diplomatic arrangements made by the Nationalists. Kerans replied that Britain had not recognised the Communists’ stand. He then brought up the fact that his ship’s fuel and provisions were running low and that ‘we could not remain here for ever’. With power shut down at night, the crew were suffering in rising temperatures. Kang said his army bore no ill will towards the sailors and as a gesture he would arrange for the wounded Bannister and Martin to return to Amethyst. Kerans reported: ‘This was the only success achieved out of this lengthy meeting and I wound up stating that detention of Amethyst, as a military necessity had long since ceased and we were neutral in the Chinese civil war, would only have embarrassing international consequences.’ Kang made no reply.

  Kerans came away from the talks with some hope although he sensed the issue might take time to resolve. It was the first serious meeting and he saw it as a face-saving exercise for the benefit of the local population. The next day Bannister and Martin were taken out to the ship. It was ‘a great morale uplift for everyone on board’. They had recovered from their shrapnel wounds and were in fair condition. The men had ended up at a PLA camp at Tachiang, where one or both of Kang’s interpreters interrogated them. Attempts were made to force them to adm
it that Amethyst opened fire first, and to their ‘everlasting credit’ they refused. Their return received a lot of local press publicity. Kerans spoke to Madden in a radio transmission, suggesting that similar publicity on ‘our side’ might be helpful for subsequent meetings.6

  By this time Admiral Brind was flying his flag in London at Alacrity anchorage and had taken command of Force 68, the ships keeping watch at the mouth of the Yangtze. Madden returned to Hong Kong in Belfast. Brind sent a lengthy signal to Kerans, a memorandum that he wanted to be given to General Yuan. It set out all the points made previously, stressing the need for Amethyst’s safe passage. In a letter to his wife Edie, the admiral wrote: ‘Now I am doing my utmost to put pressure on for getting Amethyst out. We have a particularly truculent opponent to deal with on the Yangtze and so far he has only beaten the big drum and has not attempted to talk sense! Whilst keeping him going I am now trying to get in touch with a higher general who, I believe, lives in Peking. So I am hoping to get an invitation to the great city!!’7 The general was Chu Teh.

  Kerans now had the bonus of an interpreter he could trust. The embassy in Nanking had been able to send one of its employees, Sam Leo, to help him. On 31 May Kerans was called unexpectedly to a meeting with Colonel Kang at a village opposite the ship. Kang expressed doubts about the sincerity of Brind’s messages and accused the British of evasive tactics to avoid discussion on the question of responsibility. He was told this was incorrect and that the commander-in-chief would welcome negotiations at the ‘correct level’. Kerans reported: ‘I tried hard to shift the venue to Nanking, Shanghai or Peking but without success. I then queried Kang’s authorisation through the area commander to discuss such high-level political matters. He quickly reiterated that the general was fully empowered by General Chu Teh in Peking to settle the incident, and that the PLA would not consider dealing with the incident other than in the area where it occurred. This would be in accordance with Communist doctrines where those at the top do not expose themselves.’