Tsingtao, China

May 25, 1949

Not much remained in the American Consulate in Tsingtao, Shantung, China. The Consul General, William T. Turner, had been in almost daily contact with the Embassy in Nanjing and Ambassador John Leighton Stuart since 1949 began, but more importantly since the fall of Tsinan, the capital of Shantung, in late 1948. Since then, the situation in Tsingtao was judged to be precarious, but not outright dangerous. Since October of 1948, Admiral Oscar C. Badger had authorization to utilize the significant firepower of Task Force 71, based at Tsingtao, to defend American interests within city bounds. This was a source of comfort to the American diplomats at the Consulate, located in a sunny residential district about half a mile from the docks, as long as the ships were there.

Robert C. Strong, Consul, had observed as the Consulate was pared down in the intervening seven months. To the staff, it became increasingly evident that the United States was getting ready to leave Tsingtao, and for good. The 75 ships of TF71 dwindled, the flagship was kept at sea as often as possible. The Marine garrison of Tsingtao had been reduced to a company, which conducted limited shore patrols. Likewise, the Marine Fighter Wing deployed in Tsingtao had been drawn down to a mere sixteen planes. In April the aircraft carrier that had been such a source of comfort sailed south, through the mouth of the bay, and never returned. It was alleged to have made its new base in the Philippines. Soon, the only Navy vessels berthed in Tsingtao were a cruiser, destroyer, an LCI, a seaplane tender, an oiler, and a water tanker.

Strong looked out the second-story window of his office, which was itself scantly appointed-- most possessions had been packed up and shipped out, and any documents important enough to be in a Consulate had long since been evacuated to Nanjing or Japan. He saw a car pull up, a uniformed man step out. He wore the blue uniform of an officer of the National Revolutionary Army.

Strong emerged onto the landing in time to hear the officer delivering the objections of his superior officer, Liu An-Chi, to the few remaining staff members. They deflected: apologies, but the decision had come from Nanjing. ComNavWestPac, Admiral Badger, had ordered the Officers and Enlisted Clubs closed and the last remaining Navy properties turned over to the Consul General after news of the impending fall of Shanghai reached his headquarters. The Chinese knew what this meant, and were incensed that no notice had been given.

Liu An-Chi evidently had done the same calculus as the Consulate staff. Consul General Turner had left for Shanghai, and from there had evidently sailed to Nanjing. Strong had been left in charge of final preparations to leave, and he had little more work to do. The Americans were leaving, the last shield against the inevitable communist assault on Tsingtao was sailing away.

The Marines had that morning turned over the keys to their armory to the Nationalists under Liu, who had swiftly arrived to carry the American weapons off to the perimeter around Tsingtao. The atmosphere in the city was increasingly tense as the communist noose tightened around it. Strong had been informed by telegram that the Navy support ships that had withdrawn to the outer berths would be departing, and that only the USS St. Louis and her escort destroyer would remain-- and they would depart at 4pm that afternoon.

A platoon of Marines stood guard around the consulate, shore patrols having been called off in favor of fixed defense of the few remaining American properties in the city. As lunchtime neared on the 25th, Strong sent a telegram notifying the mayor Sun Jiding that the United States would be ceding all property in Tsingtao to his government. Sun had only just become mayor on the 18th after his predecessor, Qin Dechun, had been ordered to Guangzhou. Strong wasn't even sure there was anyone to receive the telegram.

The NRA had begun evacuations of its own, but the Chinese Navy had begun basing outside of Tsingtao itself and the ships only arrived and left to ferry soldiers to points south. Liu had refused to admit there was a withdrawal underway, though many in the Consulate joked darkly over the past few days that it was so he could continue collecting taxes meant for the Nationalist government before jumping aboard the last ship out. Nobody would pay their taxes if they knew the Nationalists would be gone in a few days.

After the Nationalist officer departed, a Marine NCO stepped into the lobby and called out. "There's a truck outside, all staff must be on it in ten minutes."

Strong returned to his office with his secretary and dictated a final communiqué to be sent to Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, detailing the status of Tsingtao as of his impending departure.

City still orderly but people nervous and many shops closed in anticipation trouble from thousands refugees entering from country districts around Tsingtao now or soon to be occupied by Commies...

... Appears previous plans for destruction of power, water, textile installations, etc., have been abandoned. Workers in these and other plants have been organized by managements for internal security. Power and water plants have arranged continuation water supply regardless whether coal ship arrives on schedule May 28.

The communiqué sent, Strong thanked his secretary and called for some men to disconnect and remove the communications equipment.

Strong, then joined by a Marine, went door to door to ensure nothing was left behind that could be of use to the communists. They closed each door as they finished searching a room, herding diplomatic staff out into the lobby and from there into the waiting truck, idling in the street as Chinese citizens looked on with concern. Room-by-room they went, and at last the two men came to Strong's office. He looked out his window over Kuangshi Street for a final time, pushed in his office chair, and checked his desk drawers one final time-- nothing. The space was orderly and desperately quiet, his Marine escort looked around the room disinterestedly. For Strong, the moment was emotional, though. He ran a hand across the desk that was formerly his own, behind which he had spent many, many hours, as he walked around it and toward the door.

They stepped into the hallway and Strong locked his office door absentmindedly, as if he'd be back in the morning. In the morning I'll be halfway to Manila, he thought. He didn't unlock it, ushered back to the stairs by the Marine.

He looked back through the door into the Consulate, and turned out the lights. Tsingtao was going to shortly have issues with electrical power if this developed into a siege, and he didn't want to contribute. He pulled the door closed, considering that he was perhaps the last American who would ever look through it. He locked this door too, and pocketed the keys. A small crew of Marines saluted as the American flag was lowered for the last time, the NCO received the banner at the foot of the flagpole before he and his comrades folded it respectfully. He climbed aboard the truck, which trundled up the street. From the back, he looked at the inquiring faces of the citizens of Tsingtao.

It was a short drive through Tsingtao to the berth of the USS St. Louis. It was true that many stores were closed, and there were isolated acts of looting-- some even within view of the road. Nationalist soldiers beat down doors to secure "war materials" from the locals, which were more often than not precious metals and food. Police still patrolled, but they could do little to stop Liu's soldiers. Order was dying a quiet death in the streets of Tsingtao. Strong knew that the NRA had planned to destroy the infrastructure of the city, but that workers in these places had been organized to defend them by management. This put the Chinese soldiers off, evidently, as they diverted to preparing to evacuate the city while holding their shrinking perimeter. The jarring banners of the Red Swastika Society, a philanthropic organization still flew from poorhouses and soup kitchens where they ran out their stocks feeding those without.

The cruiser St. Louis was the last vestige of American influence in Shantung, and it stood ready to depart. Tendrils of smoke rose from its smokestacks, the diesel engines were idling. Her destroyer escort stood at the next berth, taking on American refugees. Their truck came to a halt at the foot of the gangway. The Consulate staff disembarked, joining a crowd of Americans on the pier. The Marines kept procession onto the ship orderly, and Strong was unceremoniously conducted onto its wooden deck. Sailors showed them to bunks, makeshift accommodations fixed all over the ship.

On the pier the Marines waited until the last moment before an NCO assembled them near the St. Louis and they stacked their arms on the pier, removed all ammunition from their belts and left it with the guns, and awaited the arrival of a squad of Chinese soldiers to take possession. The Marines then filed aboard the cruiser in an orderly fashion.

Strong emerged onto the deck shortly after 4:00 in the afternoon, and found a place on the railing. Chinese citizens watched, perhaps forlorn, as the American cruiser pulled out into the channel and began making its way south. They passed an onrushing Chinese ship, ignoring the regulations governing the area as a no-wake zone, making its way to evacuate more Chinese soldiers.

Tsingtao disappeared into the fog by evening, though Strong remained on the deck until fatigue began to take its toll. He wondered, in the dusk, how much longer China could hold against the communists. Inside the American diplomatic community in China it was becoming accepted fact that the Nationalists had lost, the matter was moreso one of how long until the end. With the loss of Shantung coming just as Shanghai fell, it seemed the final weeks and months of the Republic of China were at hand. His stomach dropped to think about it.