The Abalone Ukulele by Roger Crossland

The Abalone Ukulele by Roger Crossland

Author:Roger Crossland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New Academia Publishing
Published: 2020-04-02T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER NINETEEN

Shanghai, Hongkou District, August 1913

The US General Consulate building was an impressive ornament to the US concession. It was a brownstone, multi-arched building, albeit hardly as majestic as the British or French consulates.

Consul Jameson Hadbury gave Rear Admiral Simeon “Blue Flame” Bulkley a cigar after some small talk about the relative merits of the Perkins and Cody observation kites. Hadbury, Admiral Bulkley knew, was no scientist, no engineer, nonetheless he appreciated that if American naval power was to ever pull even with the preeminent European powers, that equity would be due to technology: kites, steel, boilers, muzzle velocity, dreadnoughts, and so on.

He held it, but did not light it.

Admiral Bulkley knew he needed to handle Hadbury with due care.

Consul Hadbury turned the conversation toward regional politics and his mood grew grave: “The Japanese have been rough in their occupation of Korea since 1910, some say brutal. They argue the Koreans are a backward people, unfit for self-government and in need of guidance and protection. I guess the Koreans are fit for forced labor since reports indicate they’re burying a high number of Koreans for every mile of railroad track the Japanese lay. No telling how many are dying in the mines. Large-scale executions have taken place throughout Korea, and our missionaries are included among the dead. The Japanese are stripping the country of anything that grows or is buried in the ground.”

Hadbury hadn’t stopped to take a breath. Then again, he was on home ground.

Admiral Bulkley gathered his thoughts. He knew the slow climb to his present position had made him, of necessity, increas-ingly formal and often embarrassingly pretentious.

First, formality allowed him to move incrementally. It gave him time to think. Nothing upset the international delegations and the Navy’s bureaucracy like sudden moves.

Bulkley swirled his drink in its glass.

Second, a leader in his position had to underscore his fitness for his position. In wartime, a leader’s acts were easy to measure objectively. In an uneasy peace, a leader had to remind his enemies, and his subordinates, that he was knowledgeable, thoughtful, and wise.

The stern face in the painting behind Hadbury scowled Bulkley into a response.

“Without question, they’ve been clever in their adaptation of Western technology and tactics — whipping the Russians and Chinese — but you’re right, they’re getting out of hand. I wish the British, their former allies, could get them to act, well, more gentlemanly. Of course, the Navy Department is watching the Nipponese closely. The trouble is how far away they are from us. Our Asiatic Fleet can handle smaller problems, unfortunately the logistics of coal make bringing real Western force to play in the Far East nearly impossible.”

Hadbury nodded and drew a small circle in the air with the unlit tip of his cigar, continuing to listen.

“And then, Washington’s attention is centered on the Atlantic. We don’t have a single battleship this side of the Pacific. As you know, the time is coming when we’ll stand toe to toe with the Japanese. Their victories have only made them more ambitious.



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