them. The Americans had also suffered severely, both from the bombardment and the subsequent attack: of the 5,000 officers and men who had waited for the enemy that afternoon, only 2,000 were left unwounded.
Colonel Abney, the senior surviving officer, realising the futility of further resistance, now decided to disengage and retreat towards the south, where he could join up with General O’Neill’s force that was covering Manila. But the withdrawal did not proceed unmolested. All that night as the weary men tramped along the Tarlac road they were harassed by Japanese airplanes, which lighted up the scene with magnesium flares, dropped numerous bombs, and sometimes swooped down to use their machine-guns. With daybreak came the first Japanese tanks, five of which overtook the rearguard and had cut it to pieces before they were driven off by field guns. As the Americans retreated, they tore up the railroad behind them. It had been damaged at several places by enemy aircraft, and two trains which left Calasiao shortly before midnight were now lying wrecked between San Carlos and Malasiqui, having been bombed at close range.
While these events were happening in the north the second Japanese fleet of twenty-five transports had been steaming down the east coast of Luzon. At 9 a.m. on March 12th it was off Polillo Island, with its escort of cruisers, torpedo-boats, and aircraft. For more than fifty miles the armada had been shadowed by two United States submarines, S 11 and S 15 , but so far there had been no opportunity to attack. Leaving Polillo on the starboard hand, the fleet turned to the west and ran past Jomalig Island. As this movement was being executed, one of the leading transports appeared to develop engine-room trouble, for she suddenly sheered out of station and was all but rammed by her next astern, the whole line being thrown momentarily into confusion. This gave the watchful submarines their chance. Diving to periscope depth they came within a thousand yards before making their attack. Eight torpedoes were launched before the enemy had the least inkling of his danger. Set for a high-speed run at short range the deadly missiles travelled straight and true for the mark, and six muffled explosions showed that that number at least had got home. Four of the transports were hit at this first discharge. The Sendai Maru , with two torpedoes in her hull, listed heavily to port and was plainly doomed. Ahead of her, the Osaka Maru lay helpless with her propellers blown away and a second torpedo in the boiler-room. Further down the line the Hanno Maru and Aso Maru were both in difficulties, the first-named down by the head, the second with a gaping rent in her side amidships. The latter was eventually beached and repaired.
While two of the Japanese destroyers went alongside the sinking Sendai Maru to take off her troops, the others raced madly about in search of the hidden submarines, their depth charges throwing up vast geysers on every hand. But immediately after making their attack the submarines had dived to 150 feet, reloading their torpedo tubes as they went. The S 11 , although badly shaken by a depth charge which exploded near enough to throw everyone in the boat off his feet, was kept well under control, and ten minutes later was “browning” the rear transports with four more torpedoes. As she did so, S 15 came into action a mile ahead, and again the thunder of detonating torpedoes reverberated over the sea. This time three ships were hit. One sank in a few minutes, before anything could be done to save the troops on board; another showed signs of settling by the stern, while the third, though her engines were disabled, did not appear to be mortally injured. Just as S 15 fired her last torpedo a Japanese destroyer sped down the track of air bubbles at thirty-five knots and let go two depth charges. The concussion was so powerful that the submarine was lifted almost bodily out of the water, and as she broke