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Japan Sinks US Ship Panay - History


On December 12th, Japanese planes bombed an American river gunboat, the Panay, in China. The Panay sunk, with two killed and thirty wounded. The State Department demanded an apology, which the Japanese provided.

On This Day: Japanese warplanes sink USS Panay

Dec. 12 (UPI) -- In this date in history:

In 1870, Joseph Hayne Rainey of South Carolina was sworn in as the first African American to serve in the U.S. House of Representatives.

In 1901, Italian physicist and radio pioneer Guglielmo Marconi sent the first radio transmission across the Atlantic Ocean.

In 1913, two years after it was stolen from the Louvre Museum in Paris, Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa was recovered in a Florence, Italy, hotel room.

In 1917, the Rev. Edward J. Flanagan, a 31-year-old Irish priest, opened the doors to Boys Town, a home for troubled and neglected children in Omaha. He lived by the adage, "There is no such thing as a bad boy." It graduated its first class of girls in 1983.

In 1937, Japanese warplanes sank the USS Panay, a U.S. gunboat, in China as part of the Sino-Japanese War. The incident killed three people.

In 1968, Arthur Ashe became the first African American to be ranked No. 1 in tennis in the United States.

In 1975, Sara Jane Moore said she willfully tried to kill U.S. President Gerald Ford. She was sentenced to life in prison but released Dec. 31, 2007.

In 1980, a U.S. oil tycoon spent $5 million at auction for a notebook written by Leonardo da Vinci. The 36 pages of notes featured "remarkably illegible right-to-left writing" and was "illustrated with marginal sketches of a technical nature."

In 1985, the crash of Arrow Air Flight 1285, a military charter, on takeoff from Gander, Newfoundland, killed all 256 people aboard, including 248 U.S. soldiers.

In 1988, three trains collided in London, killing 40 people, Britain's worst railway accident in 21 years.

In 2000, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 5-4 it was reversing the ruling of the Florida Supreme Court allowing hand recount of votes in Florida, in effect ensuring the Republican Texas Gov. George W. Bush would win the presidency over former Vice President Al Gore.

In 2006, a Baghdad suicide bomber, luring unemployed Iraqis to his truck with promises of work, killed at least 70 people and injured more than 220 others.

In 2015, Saudis elected women to municipal councils for the first time in Saudi Arabian history.

In 2018, Michael Cohen, President Donald Trump's onetime personal lawyer, was sentenced to three years in prison after pleading guilty to tax evasion, excessive campaign contribution, unlawful corporate contribution and false statements to a bank.


Japan Attacked America Four Years Before Pearl Harbor (Yes, Really)

Was the deadly 1937 Japanese attack on the USS Panay in China’s Yangtze River a case of mistaken identity or something more sinister?

Key Point: The 1937 incident did not spark war with Japan—at least not then.

For some Americans, World War II started early. In December 1937, four years before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor propelled the United States into the war, Japanese planes attacked an American gunboat, the USS Panay, on China’s Yangtze River, strafing and bombing the boat, sinking it, killing three American crew members, and the wounding 45 others.

Those same Japanese planes also attacked three Standard Oil tankers that were being escorted by the gunboat, killing the captain of one of the tankers as well as a number of Chinese passengers.

Two newsreel cameramen aboard the Panay were able to film the attack and subsequent sinking of the gunboat, the burning tankers, and the diving, firing Japanese planes. The attacks and the newsreels taken at the time helped to turn American public opinion against Japan and, for a time, there was talk of war.

In the end, war was avoided, and Japan paid an indemnity of over $2 million to the United States. But, at the time and for years afterward, questions raised by the incident remained unanswered.

What had really happened? And why?

As early as 1854, the United States had gunboats on the Yangtze River, a right granted by treaty. By the 1870s, American interests in the area had expanded and the U.S. Asiatic Fleet was created to protect those interests from feuding Chinese warlords and pirates along the river.

By the early 1900s, Standard Oil’s activity and use of tankers in the region had also picked up, and by 1914 the United States Navy had introduced specially built, shallow-draft gunboats to the river. By then the Navy was patrolling as far upriver as Chunghink, 1,300 miles from the coast.

Between 1926 and 1927, six new gunboats were commissioned and placed on the river. One of the was the Panay, a 191-foot gunboat armed with eight. 30-caliber Lewis machine guns and two three-inch guns.

A brass plaque in the Panay’s wardroom summed up her mission: “For the protection of American life and property in the Yangtze River Valley and its tributaries, and the furtherance of American good will in China.”

In July 1937, following decades of diplomatic and military incidents between the two countries, increasingly hostile Japan attacked China. By November, the Japanese had captured Shanghai at the mouth of the Yangtze and had begun moving up the river, leaving “a swath of destruction.” In early December, Imperial troops were approaching Nanking, then the Chinese capital.

The United States was officially neutral in the conflict. Ambassador Joseph Grew and the staff of the American embassy fled the city in November, leaving four men including Vice Consul J. Hall Paxton behind to monitor the situation and do what they could to protect American citizens still in the area.

In early December, the Panay was sent from Shanghai to Nanking to remove the remaining Americans from the city. To prevent his gunboat being mistaken for an enemy vessel, Panay’s captain, Lt. Cmdr. James J. Hughes, ordered that American flags be lashed across the boat’s upper deck and that a 6 by 11 foot United States flag be flown from the boat’s mast.

Two sampans that were powered by outboard motors were attached to the Panay to ferry those being evacuated to the gunboat. Hughes also ordered that the two sampans conspicuously fly American flags.

By December 9, the Panay was docked in the river at Nanking and 15 civilians had been taken on board—the four embassy staffers, four other U.S. nationals, and other foreign nationals including a number of journalists. Among the journalists were newsreel cameramen Norman Alley of Universal News and Eric Mayell of Fox Movietone.

At the time, the gunboat had a crew of five officers and 54 enlisted men. As the Japanese approached the city and shells began falling near the river, the Panay left the city and moved to an oil terminal a short distance upriver. Hughes sent a radio message to the Japanese alerting them to its new position.

“That night all of us stood and watched the burning and sacking of Nanking, until we rounded the bend [in the river] and saw nothing but a bright red sky silhouetted with clouds of smoke,” Alley later wrote.

On December 11, shells began falling near where the Panay and three Standard Oil tankers, the Meiping, Meian, and Meihsia, were anchored the tankers were there to help evacuate Standard Oil employees and agents from Nanking. The three tankers and the Panay quickly formed a convoy and moved seven miles farther upriver to avoid the shelling.

Witnesses to the action later claimed that the shells that had fallen appeared to be “aimed.”

On the morning of December 12, as the convoy was heading upriver, a Japanese naval officer approached the ships and demanded information from the Panay about the Chinese disposition of forces along the river.

Captain Hughes refused to comply. “This is an American naval vessel,” Alley reported Hughes as saying. “The United States is friendly to Japan and China alike. We do not give military information to either side.”

The convoy was then allowed to resume its passage upriver and eventually anchored 28 miles north of Nanking. Once there, Captain Hughes sent his new position to American authorities with a request that the information be relayed to the Japanese.

At about 1:40 pm that day, three Yokosuka B4Y Type-96 bombers were seen heading toward the convoy in V-formation. Japanese bombers overhead were a familiar sight to the men of the Panay. They had seen them frequently since the Chinese-Japanese fighting had begun, and the planes had never been anything to be concerned about.

“We had no reason to believe the Japanese would attack us,” Executive Officer Lieutenant Arthur Anders later said. “The United States was a neutral nation.”

This time was to be different.

To be safe, Captain Hughes summoned his men to battle stations and closed the gunboat’s water-tight doors and hatches. As the planes approached, however, they were joined by several Nakajima A4N Type-95 biplane fighters. The Yokosuka bombers seemed to be losing altitude or even going into power dives.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, they released their bombs.

One of the bombs almost immediately hit the Panay’s pilot house. There was a brilliant flash and the sound of crunching steel and shattering glass. Captain Hughes was quickly incapacitated with serious wounds, the Panay’s three-inch guns were knocked out, and its pilot house, radio room, and sick bay were destroyed. The ship’s propulsion gear was damaged. Electrical power was out.

Not realizing Captain Hughes had been wounded, Anders nonetheless gave the order to return fire.

Following the three Japanese bombers, the Yokosuka fighters strafed the gunboat while six single-engine dive bombers swept over the Panay, pounding it with more heavy explosives. The Panay began to settle at the bow and list to starboard.

The crew returned fire as best they could, but the gunboat’s three-inch guns were down and her machine guns had been installed to fight targets on shore. Forward fire was almost impossible, and they could not be elevated enough to fire at the Japanese planes as they passed overhead. In addition, with many of the crew wounded, not all the guns could be manned. An Italian correspondent also had been struck and was critically injured.

Anders manned one of the guns himself but, when he became aware that Captain Hughes had been injured, he moved to the bridge to assume command. He was almost immediately struck in the throat by a shard of metal. Unable to speak and bleeding badly, he nonetheless wrote out orders in his own blood.

Throughout the chaotic scene, as bombs were exploding and machine-gun fire from the Japanese fighters strafed the boat, Alley and Mayell raced around the deck filming the action. Across the water, fire could be seen breaking out on the tanker Meiping.

On the Panay, crewmembers were throwing gas cans over the side and moving the wounded to the engine room. Twenty minutes into the attack, Anders said later, “Part of the [Panay’s] main deck was awash, the ship was slowly sinking and there were many injured on board.”

He gave the order to abandon ship.

The Panay had no lifeboats and one of its two motor sampans had already left the ship and was heading away. A Japanese plane came down on the sampan “like a chicken hawk,” Anders recalled. The plane dropped a bomb that fell short, but another Japanese plane came by and strafed the sampan before it could return to the gunboat.

The wounded—including Captain Hughes—were evacuated in the sampans, code books were destroyed, and lifebelts were distributed. Some crewmembers leaned wooden tabletops against the rails in case a quick exit was required. The stiff current in the river, which was as much as seven miles per hour, made it dangerous for swimmers. Most of the crew was able to leave on the sampans, however.

“The sampan I was in had been strafed, Anders later said, “on one of its many previous trips ashore. The bullet holes in the bottom were leaking water.”


For some Americans, World War II started early. In December 1937, four years before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor propelled the United States into the war, Japanese planes attacked an American gunboat, the USS Panay, on China’s Yangtze River, strafing and bombing the boat, sinking it, killing three American crew members, and the wounding 45 others.

Those same Japanese planes also attacked three Standard Oil tankers that were being escorted by the gunboat, killing the captain of one of the tankers as well as a number of Chinese passengers.

Two newsreel cameramen aboard the Panay were able to film the attack and subsequent sinking of the gunboat, the burning tankers, and the diving, firing Japanese planes. The attacks and the newsreels taken at the time helped to turn American public opinion against Japan and, for a time, there was talk of war.

In the end, war was avoided, and Japan paid an indemnity of over $2 million to the United States. But, at the time and for years afterward, questions raised by the incident remained unanswered.

What had really happened? And why?

As early as 1854, the United States had gunboats on the Yangtze River, a right granted by treaty. By the 1870s, American interests in the area had expanded and the U.S. Asiatic Fleet was created to protect those interests from feuding Chinese warlords and pirates along the river.

By the early 1900s, Standard Oil’s activity and use of tankers in the region had also picked up, and by 1914 the United States Navy had introduced specially built, shallow-draft gunboats to the river. By then the Navy was patrolling as far upriver as Chunghink, 1,300 miles from the coast.

Between 1926 and 1927, six new gunboats were commissioned and placed on the river. One of the was the Panay, a 191-foot gunboat armed with eight. 30-caliber Lewis machine guns and two three-inch guns.

A brass plaque in the Panay’s wardroom summed up her mission: “For the protection of American life and property in the Yangtze River Valley and its tributaries, and the furtherance of American good will in China.”

In July 1937, following decades of diplomatic and military incidents between the two countries, increasingly hostile Japan attacked China. By November, the Japanese had captured Shanghai at the mouth of the Yangtze and had begun moving up the river, leaving “a swath of destruction.” In early December, Imperial troops were approaching Nanking, then the Chinese capital.

The United States was officially neutral in the conflict. Ambassador Joseph Grew and the staff of the American embassy fled the city in November, leaving four men including Vice Consul J. Hall Paxton behind to monitor the situation and do what they could to protect American citizens still in the area.

In early December, the Panay was sent from Shanghai to Nanking to remove the remaining Americans from the city. To prevent his gunboat being mistaken for an enemy vessel, Panay’s captain, Lt. Cmdr. James J. Hughes, ordered that American flags be lashed across the boat’s upper deck and that a 6 by 11 foot United States flag be flown from the boat’s mast.

Two sampans that were powered by outboard motors were attached to the Panay to ferry those being evacuated to the gunboat. Hughes also ordered that the two sampans conspicuously fly American flags.

By December 9, the Panay was docked in the river at Nanking and 15 civilians had been taken on board—the four embassy staffers, four other U.S. nationals, and other foreign nationals including a number of journalists. Among the journalists were newsreel cameramen Norman Alley of Universal News and Eric Mayell of Fox Movietone.

In a frame from a film made on the day of the attack, Lt. Cmdr. James J. Hughes (right), is shown in a launch near the Panay.

At the time, the gunboat had a crew of five officers and 54 enlisted men. As the Japanese approached the city and shells began falling near the river, the Panay left the city and moved to an oil terminal a short distance upriver. Hughes sent a radio message to the Japanese alerting them to its new position.

“That night all of us stood and watched the burning and sacking of Nanking, until we rounded the bend [in the river] and saw nothing but a bright red sky silhouetted with clouds of smoke,” Alley later wrote.

On December 11, shells began falling near where the Panay and three Standard Oil tankers, the Meiping, Meian, and Meihsia, were anchored the tankers were there to help evacuate Standard Oil employees and agents from Nanking. The three tankers and the Panay quickly formed a convoy and moved seven miles farther upriver to avoid the shelling.

Witnesses to the action later claimed that the shells that had fallen appeared to be “aimed.”

The American gunboat USS Panay on patrol on China’s Yangtze River. The boat had clear American markings, so the attack could not have been the result of mistaken identity.

On the morning of December 12, as the convoy was heading upriver, a Japanese naval officer approached the ships and demanded information from the Panay about the Chinese disposition of forces along the river.

Captain Hughes refused to comply. “This is an American naval vessel,” Alley reported Hughes as saying. “The United States is friendly to Japan and China alike. We do not give military information to either side.”

The convoy was then allowed to resume its passage upriver and eventually anchored 28 miles north of Nanking. Once there, Captain Hughes sent his new position to American authorities with a request that the information be relayed to the Japanese.

At about 1:40 pm that day, three Yokosuka B4Y Type-96 bombers were seen heading toward the convoy in V-formation. Japanese bombers overhead were a familiar sight to the men of the Panay. They had seen them frequently since the Chinese-Japanese fighting had begun, and the planes had never been anything to be concerned about.

“We had no reason to believe the Japanese would attack us,” Executive Officer Lieutenant Arthur Anders later said. “The United States was a neutral nation.”

This time was to be different.

To be safe, Captain Hughes summoned his men to battle stations and closed the gunboat’s water-tight doors and hatches. As the planes approached, however, they were joined by several Nakajima A4N Type-95 biplane fighters. The Yokosuka bombers seemed to be losing altitude or even going into power dives.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, they released their bombs.

One of the bombs almost immediately hit the Panay’s pilot house. There was a brilliant flash and the sound of crunching steel and shattering glass. Captain Hughes was quickly incapacitated with serious wounds, the Panay’s three-inch guns were knocked out, and its pilot house, radio room, and sick bay were destroyed. The ship’s propulsion gear was damaged. Electrical power was out.

Not realizing Captain Hughes had been wounded, Anders nonetheless gave the order to return fire.

Following the three Japanese bombers, the Yokosuka fighters strafed the gunboat while six single-engine dive bombers swept over the Panay, pounding it with more heavy explosives. The Panay began to settle at the bow and list to starboard.

The crew returned fire as best they could, but the gunboat’s three-inch guns were down and her machine guns had been installed to fight targets on shore. Forward fire was almost impossible, and they could not be elevated enough to fire at the Japanese planes as they passed overhead. In addition, with many of the crew wounded, not all the guns could be manned. An Italian correspondent also had been struck and was critically injured.

Anders manned one of the guns himself but, when he became aware that Captain Hughes had been injured, he moved to the bridge to assume command. He was almost immediately struck in the throat by a shard of metal. Unable to speak and bleeding badly, he nonetheless wrote out orders in his own blood.

A Japanese bomb explodes near the Panay. Two newsreel cameramen were aboard and filmed the entire incident.

Throughout the chaotic scene, as bombs were exploding and machine-gun fire from the Japanese fighters strafed the boat, Alley and Mayell raced around the deck filming the action. Across the water, fire could be seen breaking out on the tanker Meiping.

On the Panay, crewmembers were throwing gas cans over the side and moving the wounded to the engine room. Twenty minutes into the attack, Anders said later, “Part of the [Panay’s] main deck was awash, the ship was slowly sinking and there were many injured on board.”

He gave the order to abandon ship.

The Panay had no lifeboats and one of its two motor sampans had already left the ship and was heading away. A Japanese plane came down on the sampan “like a chicken hawk,” Anders recalled. The plane dropped a bomb that fell short, but another Japanese plane came by and strafed the sampan before it could return to the gunboat.

The wounded—including Captain Hughes—were evacuated in the sampans, code books were destroyed, and lifebelts were distributed. Some crewmembers leaned wooden tabletops against the rails in case a quick exit was required. The stiff current in the river, which was as much as seven miles per hour, made it dangerous for swimmers. Most of the crew was able to leave on the sampans, however.

“The sampan I was in had been strafed, Anders later said, “on one of its many previous trips ashore. The bullet holes in the bottom were leaking water.”

Meanwhile, the Japanese had focused their attack on the Standard Oil tankers. On board the Meian, Captain C.H. Carlson had been killed and two of the three tankers were burning. “We could hear the pitiful screams of the Chinese crew members,” Norman Alley wrote.

At about 3:55 pm, the Panay sank in 10 fathoms.

The gunboat survivors, meanwhile, had reached shore. Many of them were wound-ed, and they huddled in the reeds along the shore as Japanese planes “soared in vulturous circles above us,” as Alley put it.

The two Standard Oil tankers burned on the river. The third tanker had by then beached itself.

Fearing they would be discovered by the Japanese, Alley wrapped the film he had shot, along with Mayell’s film, in canvas and buried the package in the mud. By dark, the attack was over, and the group of survivors realized they were in Chinese-controlled territory and about eight miles from Hoshien, a small fishing village. They made litters from whatever was available and walked the eight miles to the village, carrying the wounded.

The Panay had suffered three crewmen killed and another 45 injured. Five of her civilian passengers were also wounded.

Once at Hoshien, the survivors were able to contact American embassy officials, and American and British Navy vessels were immediately dispatched to the area. The Japanese authorities, expressing confusion over what had happened, also took part in rescue efforts, launching search planes and ships.

Boatswain’s Mate Ernest Mahlmann, right, and another crewman fire antiaircraft weapons at attacking Japanese planes. Mahlmann gained fame as the “pants-less gunner of the Panay.”

The survivors were finally picked up at Hoshien by the American gunboat Oahu and by two British gunboats, HMS Bee and HMS Ladybird, which had been fired on earlier by Japanese artillery. The British had suffered one man killed and four injured.

The Japanese quickly issued an apology, claiming they had received information that some of the Chinese fleeing Nanking were on the river and, from the altitude at which their bombers were flying and “in the mist,” their pilots had mistaken the Panay and the tankers as the vessels carrying the Chinese.

Secretary of State Cordell Hull issued a formal complaint.

The Japanese continued to apologize, a Japanese admiral resigned in connection with the incident, and Japanese Emperor Hirohito announced that he would personally take charge of an investigation of the incident “no matter how humiliating [it] may be to the armed forces.”

On December 19, Alley’s and Mayell’s film of the incident, which had been recovered from its hiding place on the Yangtze river bank, was released. The film put lie to Japanese claims that the Panay was not well marked and that visibility was limited. It showed a clear and sunny day.

Public outrage followed—President Franklin D. Roosevelt said he was “shocked”—and the attitude of the American people began to turn against the Japanese.

A few days later, as the Panay survivors reached civilization, “filthy, cold, and wearing only blankets, Chinese quilts, and tatters of clothing,” their photos and stories began being published and public outrage mounted.

A newsreel frame shows an American flag on the Panay with a Type 96 dive bomber behind it attacking Standard Oil tankers.

Before Alley’s film was made public, however, Roosevelt had viewed it and had requested that the cameraman remove 30 of the 53 feet he had shot. Those 30 feet showed Japanese planes attacking the Panay at almost deck level and contradicted many of the Japanese government’s claims. In censoring the film, Roosevelt probably acted from fear that the explosive nature of the film would inflame the growing public sentiment in favor of war with Japan, something Roosevelt did not want at that time.

As the initial shock faded, things began to slowly return to normal.

Alley shifted his attention to the fighting in Europe. Lieutenant Anders amazingly coughed up a metal shard three days after the attack and regained the ability to speak he was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal for his actions. Captain Hughes had suffered a severely broken femur but would recover to serve in the coming war.

But why had the Japanese planes attacked the Panay and the Standard Oil tankers in the first place?

As late as 1953, Commander Masatake Okumiya, who had led the Japanese bombers that day, continued to maintain that the attack had been a case of mistaken identity. The pilots operating the bombers, he said, had only been flying in China for about eight days and had never been briefed on how to recognize neutral ships. The firing against the two British gunboats had been quickly ended, he said, when a British flag was spotted on one of the boats.

At the time and later, this explanation was questioned.

The Panay was known to be well marked and, despite Japanese claims, visibility was also known to be good that day. Alley’s film also showed that the Japanese planes had approached at a very low altitude, almost “deck high.” In addition, analysts asked, if the Japanese truly believed they were attacking troop transports, why did they clearly attack the Panay first—the only vessel capable of returning fire?

It was also reported after the war that U.S. Navy cryptographers had intercepted Japanese radio messages to the attacking planes indicating they were under orders during the attack and that the attack was in no way unintentional. Allegedly, some of the Japanese aviators involved had protested their orders before finally agreeing to execute them.

Although wounded, Hughes manages a smile for the cameraman after coming ashore.

The most probable explanation of what happened to the Panay that day is that the Japanese government did not sanction the attack. Analysts and American newspapers speculated at the time—and later historians have agreed—that the attack was most likely launched by radical elements within the Japanese military that were trying to provoke a war with the United States.

The Panay is shown partially submerged after the attack 28 miles from Nanking. Three crewmen were killed and 45 wounded.

Or it may have been an attempt by those same radical elements to measure the U.S. response to an attack, or was simply intended to force the United States to abandon its presence in China.

In any case, it was rogue Japanese officers who were behind the attack, not the Japanese government. The chaos spawned by the Japanese attack of Nanking may have provided what those elements considered an opportunity to further their own aims. They almost succeeded.

The prospect of war with Japan and the possibility of abandoning China both gained some public traction following the attack and its resulting publicity. A Los Angeles Times editorial at the time, for example, suggested, “A gradual withdrawal form China is no doubt wise.”

But the United States did not abandon China, and it did not go to war.

Roosevelt accepted an official Japanese apology for the incident. The Japanese government paid an indemnity of $2,214,007.36 to the United States in April 1938, and the United States declared the incident officially closed.

When it did so, one historian wrote, “A sigh of relief passed over the length and breadth of America.”


Robert Shivers arrives in Hawaii

Meanwhile, in Hawaii Robert Shivers arrived in Honolulu in August 1939 to head the Hawaii FBI, with a primary assignment of assessing whether the 160,000 Issei and Nisei would be loyal in the event of war with Japan.

Shivers ultimately would play a major role in preventing mass incarceration after Pearl Harbor, by lobbying against the forced removal of Hawaii’s Japanese-American community. He also helped mobilize the 442nd Regimental Combat Team and became a highly regarded leader in Hawaii.


Panay Incident

PANAY INCIDENT. Japanese aircraft, engaged in fighting Chinese forces, bombed and strafed the U.S. gunboat Panay and three Standard Oil supply ships in the Yangtze River near Nanking on 12 December 1937. Several crew members were killed in the attack, which sank the Panay, and a number of other Americans were wounded. Reaction in the United States was mixed. Several prominent naval officers called for war with Japan, and Secretary of State Cordell Hull demanded full re-dress. President Franklin D. Roosevelt considered economic sanctions against the Japanese, or even a blockade. Many in Congress and among the American public, however, were less interested in the attack itself than in knowing what U.S. ships were doing in China in the first place. The incident led to calls for stronger measures to maintain American neutrality, in particular a proposal to require a nationwide referendum before the country could declare war. Roosevelt could not afford to ignore public opinion, and soon backed away from any effort at retaliation. When after a few days the Japanese apologized, offered to pay all damages, and pledged to safeguard the rights of Americans in China in the future, the president let the matter drop.


“Two Japans”

By Trevor K. Plante

U.S.S. Panay on August 30, 1928, off Woosung, China. (NARA, 19-N-12681)

Four years before Pearl Harbor, the United States and Japan were involved in an incident that could have led to war between the two nations. On December 12, 1937, the American navy gunboat Panay was bombed and sunk by Japanese aircraft. A flat-bottomed craft built in Shanghai specifically for river duty, USS Panay served as part of the U.S. Navy's Yangtze Patrol in the Asiatic Fleet, which was responsible for patrolling the Yangtze River to protect American lives and property.1

After invading China in the summer of 1937, Japanese forces moved on the city of Nanking in December. Panay evacuated the remaining Americans from the city on December 11, bringing the number of people on board to five officers, fifty-four enlisted men, four U.S. embassy staff, and ten civilians. The following day, while upstream from Nanking, Panay and three Standard Oil tankers, Mei Ping, Mei An, and Mei Hsia, came under attack from Japanese naval aircraft. On the Panay, three men were killed, and forty-three sailors and five civilians were wounded. Survivors were later taken on board the American vessel USS Oahu and the British ships HMS Ladybird and HMS Bee.

It was a nervous time for the American ambassador to Japan, Joseph C. Grew, who feared the Panay incident might lead to a break in diplomatic ties between Japan and the United States. Grew, whose experience in the foreign service spanned over thirty years, "remembered the Maine," the U.S. Navy ship that blew up in Havana Harbor in 1898. The sinking of the Maine had propelled the United States into the Spanish-American War Grew hoped the sinking of the Panay would not be a similar catalyst.2

The Japanese government took full responsibility for sinking the Panay but continued to maintain that the attack had been unintentional. The formal apology reached Washington on Christmas Eve. Although Japanese officials maintained that their pilots never saw any American flags on the Panay, a U.S. Navy court of inquiry determined that several U.S. flags were clearly visible on the vessel during the attacks. Four days before the apology reached Washington, the Japanese government admitted that the Japanese army strafed the Panay and its survivors after the navy airplanes had bombed it. The Japanese government paid an indemnity of $2,214,007.36 to the United States on April 22, 1938, officially settling the Panay incident.3

Immediately after the Panay bombing, a lesser known aspect of the story started to unfold. In the days following the Panay incident, Japanese citizens began sending letters and cards of sympathy to the American embassy in Tokyo. Ambassador Grew wrote that "never before has the fact that there are 'two Japans' been more clearly emphasized. Ever since the first news of the Panay disaster came, we have been deluged by delegations, visitors, letters, and contributions of money— people from all walks of life, from high officials, doctors, professors, businessmen down to school children, trying to express their shame, apologies, and regrets for the action of their own Navy." In addition, "highly placed women, the wives of officials, have called on Alice [Grew's wife] without the knowledge of their husbands." The ambassador noted, "that side of the incident, at least, is profoundly touching and shows that at heart the Japanese are still a chivalrous people." These signs of sympathy were expressed as the ambassador was receiving word of possible atrocities being committed by Japanese forces in China.4

While most letters of sympathy were sent to the embassy in Tokyo, a few were sent to the Navy Department in Washington, D.C. One noteworthy group of letters received by the navy was from thirty-seven Japanese girls attending St. Margaret's School in Tokyo. The letters, each written in English and dated December 24, 1937, extended their apologies for the sinking of the Panay. By coincidence, the girls' letters are dated the same day the Japanese government's formal apology reached Washington. The letters are very similar in content. The typical letter reads, "Dear Friend! This is a short letter, but we want to tell you how sorry we are for the mistake our airplane[s] made. We want you to forgive us I am little and do not understand very well, but I know they did not mean it. I feel so sorry for those who were hurt and killed. I am studying here at St. Margarets school which was built by many American friends. I am studying English. But I am only thirteen and cannot write very well. All my school-mates are sorry like myself and wish you to forgive our country. To-morrow is X-Mas, May it be merry, I hope the time will come when everybody can be friends. I wish you a Happy New Year. Good-bye."5

Some of the girls enclosed postcards of beautiful Japanese places and scenes, while others sent Christmas cards and holiday wishes. One girl included a drawing of a Christmas candle burning bright with holly at the bottom. Several of the girls included their ages, which ranged from around eight to thirteen. Many of the letters are written on intricately decorated stationery. Each envelope bears the identical address: "To the Family of the 'Paney' [sic] C/O U.S.A. Navy Department, Washington, DC U.S.A." While each letter seems to be penned individually, the envelopes appear to have been addressed by the same person, possibly their teacher.

Three months later, a naval officer sent a reply to the principal of St. Margaret's School, thanking the girls for the cards and letters. The officer noted, "The kind thoughts of the little girls are appreciated, and it is requested that you inform them of this acknowledgement."6 Although the girls' letters were addressed to the families of the Panay victims, it does not appear that they made it any further than the Navy Department.

Other letters from Japanese individuals and organizations contained gifts of money along with expressions of regret. These donations caused a problem for the Navy Department. One letter from ten Japanese men expressed their sympathy over the Panay incident and included a check for $87.19. The men claimed to be retired U.S. Navy sailors living in Yokohama, and the letter, written by Kankichi Hashimoto, stated that "this little monetary gift is the instrument through which we hope to be able to further convey our sympathy with the bereaved families of the members of the Panay." The navy returned the check but informed the gentlemen that the U.S. ambassador in Tokyo had received a number of similar letters and gifts and that a committee was being formed in Japan to accept such donations.7 The donors were almost back to square one. They had originally approached the American consulate in Yokohama to donate three hundred yen. The consular staff said that they could not accept the contribution and suggested donating the money to the Japanese government. The former sailors turned down this suggestion and chose instead to send their donation to the Navy Department in Washington.

After being turned down by the navy, Mr. Hashimoto approached the U.S. naval attaché at the American embassy in Tokyo with a check for three hundred yen. The attaché, Capt. Harold Bemis, informed Ambassador Grew that a Mr. K. Hashimoto had brought in a contribution from the Ex-U.S. Navy Enlisted Men's Association of Yokohama. Bemis further told the ambassador that Hashimoto requested that the names of the former sailors be withheld from the Japanese authorities and public. The donor feared that his group's motives might be misconstrued because of their connection with the U.S. Navy but had no objection to their names being published in the United States.8

Letters and cards of sympathy and apology continued to pour into the American embassy in Tokyo. Meanwhile, the increasing number of donations from several sources had the State Department scrambling to come up with a policy on how to handle the monetary gifts. Four days after the sinking of the Panay, Grew sent a telegram to Secretary of State Cordell Hull, presenting the problem and requesting advice. With cash donations coming into the embassy by mail and in person, the contributions were creating what the ambassador described as "a delicate problem." As Grew explained to Hull, "Cash donations to Americans in the disaster are being brought in or sent to the embassy and we hear that the newspapers and various Government departments are receiving donations for transmission to us." While the ambassador attempted to turn away many of the donors, he explained to the secretary of state, "On the other hand the donations are all of trivial amounts so that sentiment is chiefly involved in the problem and to return the donations might give rise to a misunderstanding of our attitude."9

Grew was concerned that accepting any money from the Japanese people might interfere with the official indemnity the Japanese government had already agreed to pay. Expressing his concern to Hull, he wrote, "We realize that the acceptance of the donations for the purpose for which they are offered might prejudice the principle of indemnification for which the Japanese Government has assumed liability." The ambassador was in a difficult position: accepting the money posed one set of problems, while refusing the contributions posed another. Grew did not wish to offend the contributors, explaining that "logical grounds for refusal are difficult to explain to people who know of no other way to express their regrets over the disaster." One suggestion offered in Grew's telegram was to accept the donations and give the money to the American Red Cross for relieving Americans in China. The ambassador ended the telegram by requesting the State Department's guidance on the matter as soon as possible.10

The Navy Department also dispatched a telegram to the State Department to inform them that the Japanese junior aide navy minister had presented the naval attaché in Tokyo with ¥650.11 that had been donated by several organizations and individuals. The Navy Department also included part of a dispatch from the naval attaché in which he informed them that "as this is but one of many popular expressions of public sympathy and concern manifested during [the] past three days and furthermore [it] is a Japanese custom which if not accepted by our government might lead to misunderstanding, it is recommended that same be accepted in the spirit in which offered."11 Similarly Adm. Harry Yarnell, commander of the U.S. Navy's Asiatic Fleet, was also offered a large sum of money by personnel of the Japanese Third Fleet but declined the offer.12

In a telegram of December 18, Secretary of State Hull replied to Grew, "In view of the apparent sincerity of feeling in which the donations are being proffered and of the likelihood that a flat rejection of such offers would produce some misunderstanding of our general attitude and offend those Japanese who make such a gesture, the Department is of the opinion that some method should be found whereby Japanese who wish to give that type of expression to their feelings may do so."13

One of the problems posed by the contributions involved the difficulty of the U.S. government accepting money. Hull explained that "the Department feels, however, that neither the American Government nor any agency of it nor any of its nationals should receive sums of money thus offered or take direct benefit therefrom." Hull suggested that Grew approach Prince Iyesato Tokugawa or another Japanese gentleman, "inquiring whether he would be willing to constitute himself an authorized recipient for any gifts which any Japanese may wish voluntarily to offer in evidence of their feeling, public announcement to be made of such arrangement and an accompanying announcement that funds thus contributed will be devoted to something in Japan that will testify to good will between the two countries but not be conveyed to the American Government or American nationals."

Prince Tokugawa was president of the America-Japan Society, which had been formed in 1917 to promote a better relationship and understanding between the people of Japan and the United States. The society was formed in Tokyo and included prominent leaders from various fields Viscount Kentaro Kaneko was elected as the first president, and U.S. Ambassador R. S. Morris served as the first honorary president.14

From the beginning, the State Department's position was that none of the families of those killed or the sailors or civilians wounded would receive any of the contributions. Nor would any office or department of the federal government accept the money. The State Department also expressed the desire that any necessary arrangements be made promptly. Hull did not wish to keep the Japanese people waiting for a decision on what was to become of the money they donated. A prolonged delay could lead to misunderstanding, especially if a decision was reached months later to return the money to the donors.15

The State Department telegram of December 18 also set forth, at least for the time being, that only the American ambassador in Japan and the American ambassador in China could accept donations related to the Panay incident. Several American consulates were receiving money, including consulates at Nagoya, Kobe, Nagasaki, and Osaka, in Japan Taihoku, Taiwan Keijo (Seoul), Korea Dairen, Manchuria and São Paulo, Brazil.16 These contributions were eventually forwarded to the ambassador in Tokyo. Grew kept all money received related to the Panay incident in the embassy safe until the State Department could find a solution.

The American consulate in Nagasaki forwarded several contributions and translations of letters to the embassy in Tokyo, including fifty yen from a Mr. Ichiro Murakami, identified as a former U.S. Navy pensioner, and another individual who wished to remain anonymous.17

In a letter two days later, the consulate in Nagasaki also reported to Grew that on December 21 a small boy from the Shin Kozen Primary School brought in a letter and donation of two yen to the consulate and was accompanied by his older brother. The consul enclosed the contribution and both the original and translation of the boy's letter. The letter reads, "The cold has come. Having heard from my elder brother that the American warship has sunk the other day I feel very sorry. Having been committed without intention beyond doubt, I apologize on behalf of the soldiers. Please forgive. Here is the money I saved. Please hand it to the American sailors injured." The letter, addressed "To the American sailors," was signed only, "One of the pupils of the Shin Kozen." The boy did not provide his name in the letter, nor did he reveal it when visiting the consulate.18

A local newspaper, the Nagasaki Minyu Shimbun, published the story of Mr. Murakami's donation and that of the schoolboy and included an excerpt of the boy's letter. Arthur F. Tower, the American consul in Nagasaki, informed Ambassador Grew of the article, which had been published on January 7. Tower also informed Grew that a reporter of another newspaper, the Tokyo and Osaka Asahi Shimbun had called on him on December 23 to discuss the Panay contributions. Towers reassured Grew that "this consulate has not sought to give publicity to the donations received or offered and has furnished information concerning them on two occasions only, when requested."

Although the consul in Nagasaki was not trying to publicize the donations, the newspaper stories may have increased contributions at his consulate. On January 8 a Japanese pensioner of the U.S. Navy called in person to make a contribution of five yen for the relief of those involved in the Panay incident. When his contribution was accepted, the former sailor informed the consul that a group of other U.S. pensioners also wished to donate money. On January 10 he visited the consulate again, this time with two representatives of Japanese pensioners of the U.S. Navy who lived in the area. By this time, however, the Nagasaki consulate had received the consulate general's supervisory circular informing them that all Panay-related contributions were to be made either to the ambassador in China or the ambassador in Japan. The gentlemen attempted to donate money but were informed that the consul could no longer receive contributions, and the men were asked to communicate directly with the American embassy in Tokyo. Soon after the departure of the former U.S. sailors, two Japanese men arrived at the consulate. These gentlemen, representing the Buddhist Association of Nagasaki, also had come to donate money for victims of the Panay and were likewise turned away.19

The American consulate in Capetown, South Africa, forwarded a contribution for the "Panay disaster fund" from twenty Japanese schoolchildren traveling on the M.S. Buenos Aires Maru from Japan to Brazil. Mrs. H. MacSwiggen of Los Angeles, California, had presented an envelope addressed to the American consul on January 3, 1938. The envelope contained a letter and $7.50 in U.S. currency.20

On January 6, 1938, the consul in Harbin, Manchuria, forwarded five yen along with a translated letter "signed by an unidentifiable person called 'KIYOKO.'" Kiyoko's letter states,

Ambassador Grew also received the following poem translated into English:

Beguiled by the rough mischievous waves
And Amid the din and turmoil of the battle,
The heroes of the air, eager to chase the fleeing foe.
Bombed, alas! By mistake, a ship not of the enemy,
But of the friendly neighbor country, which sank
with a few sailors aboard.
The source of nation-wide grief, which knows no bounds,
That fatal missile was.22

In a letter to Admiral Yarnell, Ambassador Grew shed light on his feelings about the donations and the general situation.


USS Panay




Named after a Philippine island, the USS Panay (PR-5) was one of six American gunboats built by the Kiangnan Dockyard and Engineering Works in Shanghai, China. Commissioned on 10 September 1928, the Panay was part of the US Asiatic Fleet and was built specifically for patrolling China’s Yangtze River. American ships that were assigned to the Yangtze were part of the famous “Yangtze Patrol,” which existed for almost 90 years. The Panay was 191 feet long, had a beam of 29 feet, but only had a draft of 5 feet, 3 inches, making her ideal for steaming in some of the shallower waters of the Yangtze. She was armed with two 3-inch guns, eight .30-caliber machine guns and had a top speed of 15 knots. Panay also had a complement of five officers and 54 men.

As with most US gunboats, the Panay’s primary mission was to protect American lives and property during the turbulent 1920’s and 1930’s in China. During this time, China had been engaged in a massive civil war between Nationalist Chinese warlords and Communist Chinese. Then, in the 1930’s, Japan invaded China and the carnage in this troubled country reached extraordinary proportions. During all of this fighting, Western gunboats (from countries including Britain, the United States, France and Italy) had to protect their citizens and national interests from the devastation that was taking place around them. From 1928 to 1937, the Panay played an important role in protecting American lives, property and merchant ships from Chinese bandits and warlords that threatened the commerce on and along the Yangtze. The Panay was shot at on numerous occasions and she always fought back. Fortunately, the ship was not seriously damaged in any of these bloody skirmishes.

But in December 1937, the Panay’s luck ran out. The Japanese Army was sweeping through South China and was about to begin an assault on the city of Nanking. Most of the American Embassy staff had been evacuated in November, but a number of individuals remained behind to keep the embassy open until the last possible moment. The last group of 15 Americans left the Embassy and boarded the Panay on 11 December. The following day, 12 December, the Panay moved 15 miles upriver from Nanking so as to avoid the fighting that was consuming the city. She was also escorting three American oil tankers (the Mei Ping, the Mei Hsia and the Mei An) out of the area to protect them from Japanese artillery fire coming from shore.

Commander J.J. Hughes, the Panay’s skipper, was bringing the little convoy further upriver when, at 9:40 AM, Japanese soldiers on shore signaled the gunboat to stop. Commander Hughes hove to and a boatload of Japanese soldiers came towards the ship under the command of Lieutenant Sesyo Murakami. Murakami and his men boarded the ship and were immediately brought to Commander Hughes. The American officer informed Murakami that he was on board a neutral American warship transporting civilians and escorting three American merchant ships. Murakami was searching for Chinese soldiers and, after seeing that there weren’t any on board the ship, thanked Hughes and left. The American ships kept going up the river for five more miles and then anchored, hoping that they were well clear of the fighting that was going on in Nanking.

At 1:37 PM lookouts on board the Panay reported Japanese aircraft approaching the ship. A large number of Japanese naval fighters and bombers suddenly attacked the four ships. Unfortunately, these were aircraft from the Japanese Navy and, even though the Japanese Army had just boarded the American gunboat and released it, this information was not given to the Navy, which had orders to attack all ships next to Nanking. Even though it was a very clear day and the white American gunboat had two large US flags painted horizontally on her upper deck awnings (with another big American flag flying from its flagstaff), the Japanese planes came in for the kill. Bombs started falling all around the ships and two of them scored direct hits on the Panay. One of the bombs destroyed the gunboat’s forward 3-inch gun and the bridge while the other bomb caused severe damage to the midsection of the ship. Several near misses also sprang leaks in the ship’s hull and soon the small gunboat was beginning to sink. Crewmembers quickly manned the Panay’s eight .30-caliber machine guns, putting up some anti-aircraft fire that prevented the planes from scoring even more hits. Commander Hughes was injured with a broken thigh and 43 sailors and 5 civilian passengers were also wounded. Three crewmembers died in the attack. Fortunately, Lieutenant C.G. Grazier, the ship’s medical officer, was not injured and was able to keep many individuals alive until the entire incident was over.

Less than thirty minutes after the attack had begun, it was clear that the Panay could not be saved. Abandon ship was ordered and the Panay’s small motorboats and the captain’s gig transported the civilian passengers and crew to the nearby shore. Soon everyone was off the stricken gunboat. At 3:45 PM the Panay rolled over to starboard and sank bow first. She was the first American warship to be lost in action in the 83 years that the Yangtze Patrol had been in existence. The three oil tankers the Panay was escorting were also lost in the attack.

Unfortunately, communications in the area were almost nonexistent and it took a while for news of the attack to reach Asiatic Fleet Headquarters. Once it did, a small combined task force of two British gunboats (the HMS Ladybird and HMS Bee) and the US gunboat Oahu quickly headed for the area. After waiting for help for three days, the small Anglo-American “task force” finally made its way to the battle ravaged area and rescued all of the survivors.

American reaction to the attack was quick and sharp. Open conflict with Japan was avoided only after the Japanese apologized profusely for the attack and vowed to pay damages for the sinking of the gunboat and the oil tankers. The Japanese claimed that their Army troops had never informed the Navy that the Panay was in the area, even though the weather was good and the neutral American gunboat was clearly marked with American flags. On 22 April 1938, the Japanese government paid the United States $2,214,007.36 as compensation for the loss of the Panay, the three oil tankers, personal losses and personnel casualties. Japan didn’t want to fight the United States yet, so they believed this was a small price to pay to maintain America’s neutrality in the Pacific. Ironically, almost four years to the day after the attack on the Panay, the US Fleet was attacked at Pearl Harbor.

Despite the payment, the attack on the Panay swayed public opinion in the United States against Japan. It also encouraged Congress to start enlarging US armed forces, even though money was scarce because America was still in the midst of the Great Depression. America may not have been at war with Japan, but the Panay incident brought that war one step closer to each country.

Figure 1 (Top): USS Panay on patrol, date unknown. U.S. Navy photo from the July 1978 edition of All Hands magazine. Click on photograph for larger image.

Figure 2 (Middle, Top): Panay underway on 30 August 1928. National Archives photo. Click on photograph for lager image.

Figure 3 (Middle, Bottom): Panay’s Decks awash, following fatal bombing by Japanese aircraft. U.S. Navy photo from the July 1978 edition of All Hands magazine. Click on photograph for larger image.

Figure 4 (Bottom): Panay sinking on 12 December 1937. Click on photograph for larger image.


US declares war on Japan for sinking USS Panay

Post by RF » Fri May 18, 2012 5:26 pm

I thought that it might be an interesting proposition to pose the question of the USA declaring war on Japan when the USS Panay was sunk.

In particular how would the whole course of WW2 have run? How would it have affected the conflict in Europe, including for example the Spanish Civil War? And indeed what would the consequences be for China - would the Chinese communists have ultimately been denied coming to power as they did in 1949?

Re: US declares war on Japan for sinking USS Panay

Post by steffen19k » Fri Jun 15, 2012 12:20 am

That is a very difficult question to answer. But I'll take my best swing at it.

Its highly possible that China would have become a central battle field more like North Africa, rather than the forgotten front that it was. Its also highly probable that US & British Relations would have suffered, as the US/Japan in China would have led to the British worrying about their holdings in the area. The Phillipines and Formosa most likely would have become large US Military bases.

Past that, I have little or no clue.

Re: US declares war on Japan for sinking USS Panay

Post by RF » Fri Jun 15, 2012 6:06 pm

Re: US declares war on Japan for sinking USS Panay

Post by aurora » Mon Dec 01, 2014 12:12 pm

And Open Warfare was what we both got-due to intensified economical and political pressure on Japan by USA and GB that coupled with the Chungking regime receiving support from USA and GB and it's Empire- did the trick

IMPERIAL RESCRIPT

By the grace of Heaven, Emperor of Japan [Emperor Shōwa], seated on the throne occupied by the same dynasty from time immemorial, enjoin upon ye, Our loyal and brave subjects:

We hereby declare War on the United States of America and the British Empire. The men and officers of Our Army and Navy shall do their utmost in prosecuting the war. Our public servants of various departments shall perform faithfully and diligently their respective duties the entire nation with a united will shall mobilize their total strength so that nothing will miscarry in the attainment of Our war aims.

To ensure the stability of East Asia and to contribute to world peace is the far-sighted policy which was formulated by Our Great Illustrious Imperial Grandsire [Emperor Meiji] and Our Great Imperial Sire succeeding Him [Emperor Taishō], and which We lay constantly to heart. To cultivate friendship among nations and to enjoy prosperity in common with all nations, has always been the guiding principle of Our Empire's foreign policy. It has been truly unavoidable and far from Our wishes that Our Empire has been brought to cross swords with America and Britain. More than four years have passed since China, failing to comprehend the true intentions of Our Empire, and recklessly courting trouble, disturbed the peace of East Asia and compelled Our Empire to take up arms. Although there has been reestablished the National Government of China, with which Japan had effected neighborly intercourse and cooperation, the regime which has survived in Chungking, relying upon American and British protection, still continues its fratricidal opposition. Eager for the realization of their inordinate ambition to dominate the Orient, both America and Britain, giving support to the Chungking regime, have aggravated the disturbances in East Asia. Moreover these two Powers, inducing other countries to follow suit, increased military preparations on all sides of Our Empire to challenge Us. They have obstructed by every means Our peaceful commerce and finally resorted to a direct severance of economic relations, menacing gravely the existence of Our Empire. Patiently have We waited and long have We endured, in the hope that Our government might retrieve the situation in peace. But Our adversaries, showing not the least spirit of conciliation, have unduly delayed a settlement and in the meantime they have intensified the economic and political pressure to compel thereby Our Empire to submission. This trend of affairs, would, if left unchecked, not only nullify Our Empire's efforts of many years for the sake of the stabilization of East Asia, but also endanger the very existence of Our nation. The situation being such as it is, Our Empire, for its existence and self-defense has no other recourse but to appeal to arms and to crush every obstacle in its path.

The hallowed spirits of Our Imperial Ancestors guarding Us from above, We rely upon the loyalty and courage of Our subjects in Our confident expectation that the task bequeathed by Our forefathers will be carried forward and that the sources of evil will be speedily eradicated and an enduring peace immutably established in East Asia, preserving thereby the glory of Our Empire.

In witness whereof, we have hereunto set our hand and caused the Grand Seal of the Empire to be affixed at the Imperial Palace, Tokyo, this seventh day of the 12th month of the 15th year of Shōwa, corresponding to the 2,602nd year from the accession to the throne of Emperor Jimmu.

(Released by the Board of Information, December 8, 1941. Japan Times & Advertiser)


Today in History: Born on December 12

John Jay, first Chief Justice of the Supreme Court who negotiated treaties for the United States.

William Lloyd Garrison, American abolitionist who published The Liberator.

Gustave Flaubert, French novelist (Madame Bovary, A Simple Heart).

Edvard Munch, Norwegian artist (The Scream).

Edward G. Robinson, actor famous for gangster roles.

Lillian Smith, Southern writer and civil rights activist.

Henry Jackson Jr, boxer using the name Henry Armstrong, the only fighter to hold 3 professional boxing titles simultaneously.


Watch the video: Τα παιδιά μας είναι ζωντάνα, μέσα στο πλοίο λένε συγγενείς των αγνοουμένων (December 2021).