“I think negotiations over these two areas of concern are important and can be implemented immediately, Mr. Ambassador,” Secretary Danahall said. “Of course, other affected nations will have to participate — and an immediate cessation of all hostilities must be declared…”
“If that can include Samar and his Moslem rebel militia, I agree wholeheartedly, Mr. Secretary,” Tang replied.
“I think we can be helpful in securing Vice President Samar’s cooperation,” Frank Kellogg said, “but it would be a waste of time to try to begin negotiations without first calling for an immediate cease-fire and a pullback of all forces…”
“If we can receive assurances that your naval and air forces will not try to fortify or assist the Samar rebels, and promise not to attack any Chinese forces at any time, a cease-fire might be possible. But it would be supercilious for us to abandon our agreement with President Teguina and simply leave him alone and unprotected without first guaranteeing that his government will remain intact during our negotiations. Now, if Samar’s rebel forces would give up their hold on the city of Davao and the Samar International Airport, perhaps my government would be more amenable to encouraging a dialogue with the Philippine government.”
This time all the Americans paused. They were afraid this might happen. Promising not to attack Chinese forces was no problem — the President didn’t want to do it in any case — but they knew that Davao was the last pin keeping the Philippines from falling apart. If Samar’s people abandoned the city, the Philippines would fall forever — if not to the Chinese, then to Teguina’s Communists. Samar might be a Moslem, but he also believed in a unified Philippines. It was obvious that Teguina believed in nothing but himself and his power. Tang was asking assistance from the U.S. government to destroy the last obstruction to total domination by the Communists.
“I think that discussion can wait for more detailed negotiations between our representatives,” Danahall said — he didn’t want to encourage him with even a veiled “maybe,” but he didn’t want to indicate that it was out of the question, either. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. Let’s get our respective governments to agree on an immediate cease-fire first…”
But Tang recognized Danahall’s hesitation and had obviously concluded that the Americans would agree to nothing here. “Why do you support this Moslem Samar?” Tang asked. “He is nothing but a rabble-rouser. He is a definite hindrance to peace, Mr. Secretary. He is not deserving of your country’s support.”
“We support a peaceful solution to this crisis, Mr. Ambassador…
“I truly hope so, Mr. Secretary,” Tang said. “It appears to my government, however, that the United States wishes to regain its lost military dominance in the Philippines. You are aligning yourself with a traitor and criminal, blinding your citizens to Samar’s violent and revolutionary past, in an obvious attempt to gain some sort of legitimacy for a military invasion of your own. That is not the way to solve this crisis, sir.”
“There are those who feel that China is trying to exert its influence in the region by the use of force,” Kellogg said, “and that you will stop at nothing to achieve it. They fear China may use another nuclear weapon to obliterate Samar’s militia…
Tang bristled at the mention of the word “nuclear,” and the Americans knew that the meeting was at an end. He rose to his feet, his hands still folded before him; his face was just as impassive and expressionless as ever. “I believe we have discussed all pertinent topics. With your permission, we will deliver your messages to my government with all speed.”
“Include this message, Mr. Ambassador,” Danahall said coldly. “If the United States detects any further activity in the Davao Gulf or on Mindanao to suggest that Chinese troops are moving to take the city of Davao, its airport, or the towns around the northern part of the Davao Gulf or delta, the United States will consider that a hostile act against an ally and will respond appropriately.” Danahall and the others rose. “Good day, Mr. Ambassador.” Danahall kept his fingertips on the table, without extending a hand. Tang gave a short bow, as did his interpreter and assistant, and they departed.
“God, I must be getting old,” Danahall said. He dropped into a chair, letting Kellogg take his desk back. “I can’t sell it like I used to.”
Kellogg’s outer office phone buzzed. “Yes?”
“Staff meeting in five minutes, sir,” his secretary said. Kellogg acknowledged the call and hung up. The message was a simple code to let them all know that the Secret Service wanted to come in to sweep the office, hallways, and anterooms for newly planted listening devices before the men began talking about anything of substance.
“I wanted to avoid giving the man a damned ultimatum, and that’s exactly what I ended up giving him,” Danahall said. “Dumb…”
“I’m sorry I mentioned the ‘N’ word,” Kellogg said. “I guess I’ll never make much of a diplomat.”
“We’re all thinking about it, and he knew it. It had to come out sooner or later.” Danahall paused, then said, “But I think he did leave us a few cracks we can explore — not very big cracks, but at least it’s something to work on.”
“I hope something happens in the next twenty-four hours,” Kellogg said grimly as they stood to allow the Secret Service to begin their work, “because otherwise I think the diplomatic side has just run its course.”
11
Duty aboard the Chinese Liberation Army Navy destroyer Hong Lung for the day watch and flag staff began at five A.M. with reveille shortly before sunrise, prayers for those who were so inclined (Admiral Yin Po L’un, and therefore most of his flag staff, were not), a thirty-minute exercise period, cleanup, and breakfast, which usually consisted of chicken or fish soup, rice, tea, and hard candy or caramel squares for the enlisted men. Morning inspection began at six-fifteen, and the reports from each section aboard ship were received by the captain by ten minutes to seven. By seven A.M. the executive officers of each ship of the fleet escorting the Hong Lung reported to the Admiral’s chief of operations, as did the group commanders from the three other naval battle groups in the southern Philippines; Yin’s chief of operations then compiled the morning report for the Admiral for presentation precisely at seven-fifteen.
The Admiral first received a synopsis of incoming-message-traffic from Beijing or South China Sea fleet headquarters in Zhanjiang (important messages would of course have received his immediate attention), then a theater situation briefing and intelligence briefing. Yin’s chief of operations, Captain Sun Ji Guoming, bowed deeply as he began: “Sir, I am pleased to provide you with the following theater briefing summary at this time, updated as of five A.M. local time:
“The primary threat to People’s Liberation Army Navy’s forces involved in the Philippines conflict currently is the United States Navy’s aircraft carrier Independence battle group from Japan operating in the Luzon Strait, the U.S. Army Twenty-fifth Infantry Division deployed to Guam, elements of the U.S. Marine Corps Third Marine Amphibious Force mobilized on Okinawa and deployed with the Independence carrier battle group, and the deployment of the Air Force First Air Battle Wing to Andersen Air Force Base on Guam. It is important to point out that these all represent partial deployments of each unit, with approximately thirty to forty percent held in reserve at their home bases.