BEGINNING OF HOSTILITIES—ATTACKS ON TSING-TAU FORTS

Having reviewed the military and naval situation in the Far East at the outbreak of war, we come now to the beginning of actual belligerent operations.

Japan's declaration of war against Germany was dated August 23, 1914. The morning of the preceding day witnessed the departure from Japanese war ports of the greatest fleet of warships and transports the Empire had sent to sea since the Russian War. It comprised the Second Squadron, embracing battleships, cruisers, destroyers and hydro-aeroplanes, a dozen in all. The transports carried land forces numbering 22,980 officers and men and 142 guns to be put ashore as soon as the landing forces had ground for their advantageous location.

The Japanese troops included the Eighteenth Division, under Lieutenant General Mitsuomi Kamio, who was Commander in Chief of the expedition; the Twenty-third Brigade of Infantry (Major General B. Horiuchi); the Twenty-fourth Brigade of Infantry, commanded by Major General Hanzo Yamanashi, Chief of Staff, and other divisional troops. The Twenty-ninth Brigade of Infantry (Major General G. Joholi). Siege Artillery Corps (Major General Y. Watanebe), the Miyama Heavy Artillery Regiment, the Yokosuka Heavy Artillery Regiment, the Shimonosoki Heavy Artillery Battalion, and the Tadanoumi Heavy Artillery Battalion. Detachments of Engineers and Army Service Corps from the Sixth and Twelfth Divisions. Two Railway Battalions. Railway Guard Troops, the Eighth Infantry Regiment. Detachment of the Flying Corps. Marine Artillery Detachment. Being intended for siege work this army carried no cavalry, horse artillery or light field artillery.

In command of the fleet was Vice Admiral Hikonojo Kamimura, whose reputation as one of Japan's war idols was established when his squadron had defeated three Russian warships, the Rurik, Gromoboi and Rossia, off the east coast of Korea. Later his squadron had taken a commanding part in the great battle in the Japan Sea, which put an end to Russia's naval power in the East. Admiral Kamimura was sixty-five years old, and had spent the greater part of his life in naval service. After the final Russian defeat he was rewarded with the title of Baron and invested with the Grand Cordon of the Rising Sun and the first-class of the Golden Kite.

On September 23, 1914, the Japanese were joined by a British force of 1,369 men under command of Lieutenant Colonel Nathaniel Walter Barnardiston, commander of the British forces in North China, including Wei-hai-wei. Although the British did not arrive until a month after the forces sailed from Japan, the distance that separated Laoshan Bay, where the former made their landing on the original leased territory and thus avoided the breach of neutrality against China committed by the Japanese, was so much shorter and the landing place presented so much less difficulty than the Japanese encountered in their preliminary advance, that the British really arrived on the scene of actual operations just as the Japanese were finishing their first engagements in force, on September 28, 1914.

Colonel Barnardiston's command consisted of 910 noncommissioned officers and men of the Second Battalion South Wales Borderers, and 450 noncommissioned officers and men of the Thirty-sixth Sikhs, besides nine staff officers.

The bombardment of the Tsing-tau forts began on August 26, 1914, and on September 1, 1914, the Japanese bluejackets seized several small islands in Kiao-chau Bay, which the Germans were unable to defend except by long range fire from their shore batteries, and by mines with which the harbor had been thickly sown. Mine sweeping therefore occupied the first activities of the fleet. This operation was signalized by one of the many acts of patriotism and bravery that characterized the siege on both sides. One hundred Japanese women who made their living by diving for pearls in these waters offered to enter the water and release the mines from their moorings so that they would be carried away by the tides. Their courageous offer was declined, not because the Japanese admiral believed it could not be carried out, but because the Japanese law expressly prohibited the employment of women in warlike operations. When one of the small boats that acted as mine sweepers was blown up during the dragging that followed the women renewed their offer, but again it was declined.

The first landing on the Shantung Peninsula was made September 2, 1914. Ten thousand troops were put ashore; but it was not until September 25, 1914, that the invaders made their first capture of a German outpost, Weihsien. The check on the Japanese advance, however, was due less to the defenders of Tsing-tau than to the torrential rains, which swelled the streams and for a time effectively barred further movements. The Japanese artillery was compelled to return to Lung-chow, their original base on the mainland.

The Japanese leaders proceeded with deliberation and caution. They had the enemy penned up with no hope of reenforcement, and nothing was to be gained by haste or the unnecessary waste of men and equipment. On September 19, 1914, to facilitate the movement of their troops behind the beleaguered city, they seized the railway connecting Tsing-tau with the Chinese province of Shantung, and China, prompted by Berlin, protested against the act as a violation of neutrality. This was the second Chinese protest, the first having been sent to Tokyo after the Japanese made their first landing on Chinese territory at Lung-chow. To the former objection Japan had no answer except to set forth that the landing was a military necessity and made with no intention of permanent occupancy. To the second protest, however, she replied without hesitation that possession of the railway line was justified since it was owned by Germans. The wide area covered by the Japanese investment campaign is shown by the fact that by September 13, 1914, they had established guards at the railway station of Kiao-chau—a town having the same name as the whole German concession—twenty-two miles distant from Tsing-tau.

While the Japanese infantry and engineers waited for the floods the naval airmen were not idle. The first damage inside the city was inflicted by two seaplanes which dropped bombs upon the railway station and barracks. Although one of the planes was hit several times by the German guns, both made a safe return. This raid was the forerunner of a systematic air campaign, designed as much to strike terror and discouragement into the hearts of the garrison and the civil population as to gain any military end by the actual destruction of defense works. Bombs were dropped also upon ships in the harbor. Occasionally the Japanese flyers scattered circulars calling upon the defenders to surrender and pointing out the uselessness of further resistance.

The first serious losses on either side were naval. On August 28, 1914, two days after the first bombardment a typhoon swept the Japanese fleet, causing havoc among the little destroyers and sending one to the bottom. Five days later another destroyer ran aground in Kiao-chau Bay. A German merchant ship in the harbor was set afire by the Japanese aerial bombs and destroyed. The greatest naval losses suffered during the whole engagement were the destruction of the Austrian cruiser Kaiserin Elizabeth and of the Japanese cruiser Takachiho. The Kaiserin Elizabeth was sunk by the naval bombardment; but the loss of the Takachiho was due to the German torpedo boat S-90.

It was September 26, 1914, before the floods subsided sufficiently to permit the Japanese to resume their advance. On that day they drove the Germans from the high ground between the rivers Pai-sha and Li-tsun, and next day they pushed forward to a point seven miles northeast of Tsing-tau, between the Li-tsun and the Chang-tsun. The following morning found them established within five miles of the fortress. Their casualties were reported as three killed and twelve wounded.

These two days saw the heaviest fighting thus far during the siege. While the land forces were pushing up to the main German forts the fleet carried on a general bombardment, having by this time moved in close enough to make gun fire effective and having learned the range. The Japanese warships were assisted by the British battleship Triumph, which had joined them a short time before with the British destroyer Usk. These British boats remained throughout the investment, the Triumph was a favorite mark for the German gunners, but escaped with comparatively slight damage.

By September 30, 1914, the Germans were driven in from their outer fortifications and Tsing-tau itself was completely surrounded. On that day the defenders made a desperate attempt to regain some of their lost positions, but they were repulsed, and the Japanese settled back for a few days to await the bringing up of their heavy siege guns.

It is said that the failure of this assault, in which the Germans apparently concentrated all their resources, convinced General Kamio that the capture of the city would not prove the long, arduous task that had been expected, and he abandoned forthwith his plans for a long, slow siege and made preparations to take the place by assault. At the same time the Japanese commander showed no disposition to sacrifice his men unnecessarily, and while waiting for their big guns the Japanese worked like beavers with pick and shovel protecting their positions and digging saps and zigzag trenches up to the very face of the German defenses. They labored under a storm of shells but so little exposed that losses under the bombardment were small compared with the casualties of the actual assault operations.

For eight days the Germans poured projectiles into the enemy's works; but for the most part their shooting was a waste of ammunition. Just why the defenders of Tsing-tau were so prodigal of ammunition at this time never has been satisfactorily explained. Military correspondents estimated that during one period of twenty-four hours the forts on the three hills containing the main defensive positions fired more than 2,000 shells without inflicting any loss whatever.

But by October 8, 1914, the German fire slackened perceptibly. They had found that they were wasting their resources and that several positions were almost out of ammunition. The warfare of that period is described in a letter written by an officer with the British expeditionary force:

"That night," he said, "we were working in trenches along a river bed at the bottom of the slope, where the others had been wounded, and sans doute most darnation close to the enemy. A beginning had been made on this trench the night before, so there was a little cover. The two redoubts were about 800 yards on our right and left respectively, the enemy's trenches about 350 yards to our front.

"Well, for the first hour after getting down we were left severely alone. Then they started throwing star rockets and sort of Roman candle things which lit up the place like day, and at the same time they peppered us with Maxims, pompoms, and rifle fire from all three places. We had some men hit further back in the communication trench, but funnily enough none in the forward line.... We were entertained by a certain amount of shell fire during the rest of the night. Next night we were due to leave for the forward trenches at dusk to carry on, having had our usual entertainment in the afternoon from the Germans, when suddenly they began throwing shrapnel at our trench. For about half an hour it was all over us, and I'm blest if I know why nobody was hit. It was the overhead cover, I fancy, that saved us this time. We came out like a lot of rabbits when it was over and proceeded to get down below.

"The Japanese artillery was supporting us that night, as we were working on the enemy's side of the river, within 200 yards of their advance trenches. Never have I felt a more comforting sensation then when watching those Japanese shells bursting just over our heads, a little in advance, the shrapnel from them going slap into the Germans every time. I must say it was a magnificent sight when the Japanese guns were going, the German rockets, etc., and their machine guns and rifles joining in when they could get their heads up. One had to shout to make oneself heard, and those who saw it from the top of Heinrich Hill in rear said it was very fine."

During the early days of the siege life in the beleaguered city went on about as usual. A large part of the civil population had withdrawn while there was yet time, but enough shops remained open to supply the needs of those who remained. CafÉs continued business and meals were served without interruption at the German Club throughout the siege, although toward the end the number of those who gathered at the club's tables dwindled to a few administrative officers and civilians.

In a proclamation the day before the expiration of the Japanese ultimatum, Governor Meyer-Waldeck had expressed the spirit of the little garrison in the following words:

"Never shall we surrender the smallest bit of ground over which the war flag is flying. From this place, which we with love and success have endeavored during the last seventeen years to shape into a little Germany across the seas, we shall not retreat. If the enemy wants Tsing-tau, he must come and take it."

Few, if any, military men in Tsing-tau doubted the outcome of the siege; but every resource was prepared for a desperate resistance. The city did not lack food; and after the surrender it was found that enough still remained to provision the garrison for more than three months longer. The supply of running water ceased about the middle of October. News from the outside world came in until November 5, and invariably it told of German successes.

"I remember one evening," said the Tsing-tau correspondent of the Associated Press, and the only foreign press representative in the city during the siege, "the roar of laughter that went up in the German Club when the news was read that England had asked Portugal for assistance. For two or three days it looked, according to the news, that the British Empire was going to pieces. We heard of revolutions in India, riots in Alexandria, mutiny and martial law in South Africa and even disaffection in Sarawak and North Borneo."

When it became clear that the end was drawing near preparations were made that as few war munitions as possible should fall into the hands of the enemy. The warships in the harbor that had escaped the bombardment were blown up. When the big guns in the forts had fired their last shots the gunners under orders destroyed them. In many cases this was done because without ammunition the guns were useless.

October 31, 1914, the anniversary of the emperor's birthday, was selected by the Japanese and English for their final bombardment. From 142 guns now occupying commanding positions came a deluge of shells that continued for seven days. The gunners by this time had the exact ranges and wasted no ammunition. The staffs of the two expeditionary forces gathered on Prince Heinrich Hill to watch the final act of the passing of German rule in the Far East. The warships ranged in the harbor joined in, and after an hour or two it became evident that the German defenses would be swept away by mere weight of metal. Under cover of this terrific gunfire the Allies' troops drove their saps and trenches up the very edge of the defense works, where they waited orders to take the place by storm.

The Germans replied bravely. A great cloud of smoke and dust arose over the doomed city visible far out at sea. In the city the noncombatants took refuge in their cellars and helped care for the wounded. Almost every German position, except the bomb-proof casements where the guns stood, was hammered to pieces. The electric power station was destroyed, so that during the last few nights the city was in darkness.

The last handbills dropped into Tsing-tau by the Japanese aviators contained the following appeal: "To the honored officers and men in the fortress: It is against the will of God, as well as the principles of humanity, to destroy and render useless arms, ships of war, and merchantmen, and other works and constructions, not in obedience to the necessity of war, but merely out of spite, lest they fall into the hands of the enemy. Trusting, as we do, that, as you hold dear the honor of civilization, you will not be betrayed into such base conduct, we beg you, however, to announce to us your own view as mentioned above.

(Signed) "The Besieging Army."

It is needless to say that the enemy's plea was not heeded. By November 6, 1914, only spasmodic fire from widely scattered positions answered the Allies' bombardment. That night the Japanese and English charged across open ground and took the middle fort in the first line of defense with surprising ease, capturing 200 prisoners. The charge was led by General Yoshimi Yamada at the head of companies of infantry and engineers. At one point they surprised a squad of Germans in charge of a searchlight. To have fired upon them would have betrayed the advance to the defenders of the adjacent fort; so, the story says, the Germans were quietly and quickly dispatched by the engineers with picks and shovels.[Back to Contents]