carried us some distance before we could return to the spot, which was marked by large air-bubbles and a widening patch of oil. One survivor was seen and picked up unconscious, only to die soon afterwards in spite of all our surgeon could do. The others must have been drawn down by the suction, for we never saw them after the collision. Thus perished a gallant ship and her crew!
But seldom has an act of self-sacrifice in war borne richer fruit. These two submarines of medium size had inflicted terrible punishment on the Japanese convoy. Five transports had been sunk or reduced to sinking condition; two more were so badly damaged that they had to be taken in tow after the troops on board had been transferred to other ships. The Hanno Maru , torpedoed in the initial attack, would have remained afloat had it not been for the shells fired into her later on by the S 11 , whose gun had been served with deadly effect. How many troops were lost in this daring submarine raid is still a matter for conjecture. The Japanese admitted that 2,000 were drowned, but the actual number, it is believed, was considerably higher. In any case it unquestionably delayed the second landing, and this might have had important consequences had the American forces in Luzon been in greater strength; for the thunder of guns and torpedoes off Jomalig had attracted American air scouts, who judged from the southerly course of the Japanese convoy that it was making for Lamon Bay, and promptly radio-phoned a message to that effect.
As soon as this intelligence reached headquarters at Manila, a flying column of 4,000 troops, with two field-gun batteries, was sent by railroad to Pagbilao and Laguimanoc, while aircraft were held ready to fly out from Cavite when word came that the transports were approaching land. No mine fields had been laid in Lamon Bay, nor did time permit of this deficiency being remedied. All that could be done was to throw up trenches at certain points inland upon which the invaders might be expected to converge, and dispose the handful of troops to best advantage. There was obviously no chance of stemming the tide of invasion at the seashore, for not only were the Japanese transports estimated to have 50,000 troops on board, but the barrage fire of their escorting vessels would speedily overwhelm the feeble American artillery. In these circumstances, it seemed the soundest strategy to concentrate the defence at Calamba, where the Japanese, marching inland on their way to Manila, would have to pass through a narrow defile. Active opposition at the point of landing was accordingly left to the airmen.
It was 5 p.m. on March 12 before the first Japanese warships steamed into Lamon Bay between Calbalete and Alabat Islands. They were heralded by strong squadrons of combat and bombing planes, which penetrated inland with the evident purpose of engaging such American machines as might be up, and so distracting their attention from the transports. Finding no one to oppose them, some of the Japanese aircraft cruised above the landing places at Port Lampon, while others reconnoitred the American position at Pagbilao and dropped bombs.
Still unconvinced that the landing would not be resisted, the destroyers approached to within 2,000 yards of the shore and poured a hot fire into the wooded heights overlooking the port. Not until this cannonade had continued for half-an-hour without drawing a single shot in reply did the transports begin to move in. It was then that the single American air scout, who had maintained his position at an altitude of four miles without being observed, flashed the news to the twenty waiting planes at Pagsanjan. A few minutes later found all of them up and heading for the sea at their maximum speed. But on this occasion the Japanese must have anticipated just such an attack, for they were not caught napping. As the American flyers passed over the coast a strong formation of hostile planes met and engaged them with the utmost