Ship of Ghosts - James D. Hornfischer [100]
Japanese troops came ashore on March 1 and before long they seemed to be everywhere. They were too many and too swift. With Japanese aircraft controlling the skies—soldiers from the 131st were dismayed to find American fighter planes at Bandung still in crates stacked on flatcars—the Aussies and the Dutch were left fighting a piecemeal defense that never congealed into a force capable of a counteroffensive.
On March 4, near Buitenzorg, the 131st, two and a half miles behind the Australian front lines, went into action supporting friendly infantry, firing till dark. During the next couple of days the artillerymen played hide-and-seek as Japanese patrols sought to locate them. Maj. Winthrop H. (“Windy”) Rogers, the battery’s commander, told Sergeant Thompson, “There’s only a few hundred of them over there. We’ll have them wiped out by tomorrow noon, and within a week there won’t be a Jap left on Java.”
On March 5, scouts from D Battery came across a large, modern hotel, the Savoy, and parked their command car by the entry. Dozens of Dutch officers in dress uniform milled about, escorting women in fine formal wear. A good orchestra was playing, a seven-course dinner in progress. “We entered right off the road, dressed in our fatigues, dirty and bearded, and carrying our .45 pistols. We were utterly amazed to see this big party going on with bright lights blazing with a full-scale war going on just down the road,” said Jess Stanbrough. The Americans sat down and gorged themselves.
Two days later a courier arrived from the front with a message for Colonel Tharp: “The Australian Brigadier says it’s getting pretty hot up there. He advises an immediate withdrawal. The first line of Japs already have crossed the river. We can’t possibly stop them—we’re outnumbered at least 100 to 1.”
Tharp ordered his batteries to retreat and join him in Buitenzorg as Dutch engineers blew up bridges over Java’s western rivers. “The impact of this hit us like a ton of bricks,” wrote Kyle Thompson. “At last we fully realized that the war had caught up with us.” One moonless night, the Texans began pulling out. Because Thompson’s command car had radio equipment that needed to stay hooked up to the command post, he was the last one out. With Japanese forces advancing directly behind him, he raced through the night, headlights blazing in violation of blackout orders.
At his command post, Colonel Tharp gathered his men on the morning of March 8 and said, “Well, men, it’s quite obvious that we aren’t running the Japs off the island and we aren’t likely to. It looks like this whole thing will fall through. We are under the direct command of the Dutch, and what they say, we have to do. I think they will surrender by the tenth at the latest. We have one chance left. There may be a ship down on the south coast. We’ll try to make it through to it.”
With Japanese bombers controlling the skies, the Imperial Second Army took Batavia and Tjilatjap, overcame light resistance outside Surabaya, and was converging on the old ABDA headquarters at Bandung from two sides. At nine a.m. on March 8, as Tharp’s men were still aiming to escape, General ter Poorten announced that the Dutch fight for Java was at an end. Two hours later, a Dutch messenger reached the 131st’s headquarters on a motorcycle. He was carrying a message: “We are forced to surrender. It is useless to try to hold out any longer. You are ordered to surrender immediately with your men and equipment, unconditionally, to the Imperial Japanese Army. You are to wait with your men and equipment at Goerett.”
“On whose orders?” Colonel Tharp asked.
“The Governor General’s office, Batavia, sir. I am also instructed to tell you that it’s useless to attempt