Evening Star Newspaper, March 12, 1933, Page 55

'l"HT‘ SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, DB. €, MARCH T2, 033 W aits 35 Years for Congress To Call Him a Hero BY WILLIAM S. ODLIN After More Than a Third of a Century the Congressional Medal of Honor Is Bestowed Upon the Leader of the Little Band That Dared Almost Certain Death to Bottle Up the Spanish Fleet in Santiago ‘ Harbor. HATEVER may have been the shortcomings of the late lamented Seventy-second Con- gress, embracing as it did America’s last “lame duck” session, it finally succeeded in bringing about adequate official recognition of one of the most brilliant deeds of heroism in the entire military history of the Nation. Members of a generation whpse memory runs back to Spanish-American War days were more than mildly surprised not long since to learn that Richmond Pearson Hobson, who was the reigning popular hero of '98, had never received the Congressional Medal of Honor, America's supreme award for valor. More than a third of a century had passed since the whole world was thrilled by an exploit in which the young naval officer had led a handful of American sailors into the jaws of seemingly certain death. They all miraculously survived and all save their leader were awarded, in addition to the homage of their admiring countrymen, the Congressional Madal. The handsome Hobson was loaded with honors, quickly becoming the special idol of the Gibson girl beauties of the day. After his return to the States, when Spain had been properly humbled and Cuba libre was an accomplished fact instead of the pathetic slogan of ragged and starving patriots on the Pearl of the Antilles, he was the target of the lips of feminine young America. Wherever he went young women whose other preoccupations were chafing dishes, leg o' mutton sleeves, passe partout pictures, pyrographed leather pillows and perhaps a little gentle, longsskirted tennis, strove to kiss the dashing young hero. So alarming became their determination that all his public appearances were fraught with peril. HE reason for this apparent neglect is not entirely clear, although it has been explained by former Secretary of the Navy Adams that a defect in the law delayed the bestowal. The average American old enough to recall the glamour about Hobson's name at the turn of the century doubtless concluded he had been awarded every honor within the gift of a grate- ful Government, including maybe a solid gold guest card to the White House. Other objects of popular adulation came and went. The World War strode across its trémendous stage. A new generation grew up and with the epochal events that all but obscured occurences more remote than 1914, Hobson's exploit in the harbor of Santiago de Cuba 35 years ago next June became scmewhat legendary in the con- seiousness of present-cay America. Such is the evanescence of fame. Not long ago, however, friends of Capt. Hobson discovered that although the law re- stricting award of the Congressional Medal to enlisted men had been amended to include commissioned officers, the hero of the Merri- mac had never received it. They took the matter up with Representative William B. Oliver - of Hobson's native Alabama, and he promptly introduced a bill to correct the long oversight. It was passed quickly by the House and got on the calendar of the Senate, where for a time it appeared likely to become a victim of the legislative jam toward the close of the recent session, but it finally was reached and passed without, of course, opposition. The honor, curiously enough, carries with it a privilege already enjoyed by the hero, so in that respect it won't mean much to him. Holders of the Congressional Medal are by it allowed to sit on the floor of the Senate and House, and as a former member of the latter, Iiobson already enjoys this right. The heroism for which Hobson, at the age of 62, is now belatedly honored by his country was of the type of which every spirited school- boy dreams. It brought the whole world to its feet in applause, but it may be doubted whether the present generation is familiar with it in more than shadowy outlines. For sheer defiance of death, its equal is not often found. When the United States embarked upon the punishment of Spain for her oppression of Cuba, culminating in thz destruction of the battleship Maine in Havana Harbor, Lieut. Hobson, then 27 years old, was a Naval Con- struction Corps officer assigned to the flagship New York of the North Atlantic Fleet. His task was the comparatively prosaic one of studying the effect of expected gunfire upon the warships and their behavior in turn. During the early weeks of the war the where- sbouts of the Spanish fleet, under Admiral Pascual Cervera, became a matter of concern. It was before the days of wireless and the greatest doubt existed as to where the Spanish warships were and what were their intentions. It was rumored that they contemplated forays against coast cities of the Atlantic seeoard, possibly, even, a bombardment of New York. At length, however, it was ascertained they were still in the vicinity of Cuba and Com- modore William 8. Schley and his Flying Squadron were assigned the job of hunting them out. Toward the end of May, 1898, a‘ter patiently watching Cienfuegos, on the southern coast of Cuba, where the Spanish fleet was not, Schley discovered it had slipped into the long winding harbor of Santiago, farther east. A blockade was at once established by the Flying Squadron, which was rapidly being augmented. There was an inconclusive engagement when the old battleships Iowa and Massachusetts, Schley’s flagship, and the cruiser New Orleans were permitted to toss a few large shells at the hidden Spanish warships, to which they and Morro Castle, dominating the harbor entrance, responded without effect. HUS matters stood when at daylight, June 1, the blockaders sighted ships from the east. Rear Admiral William T. Sampson was . arriving on his flagship, the New York, accom- panied by the Oregon, fresh from her record “Hobson corking the bottle.” An artist’s idea of the exploit it in Santiago Harbor, period. reproduced from Harper's Weekly of the Spanish-American War would give the American men of war a chance to slip into the harbor and give battle to the Spaniards in their lair. Hobson found, however, that quite the re- verse of a non-sinkable vessel was in Sampson’s mind. What he was looking for .was a ship that could be sunk quickly and certainly. His idea was to have a picked crew take a com- paratively useless old ship into the harbor, sink it across the narrowest part of the channel— Richmond Pearson Hobson, who has just been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his exploit in attempting to bottle up the Spanish fleet in San- tiago Harbor. dash around Cape Horn from the Pacific Coast, and other elements, completing the North Atlantic Fleet. Sampson now took command and decided that the blockade should be an immobile one, keeping the Spanish fleet bottled and allowing American capture of Santiago by the Army from the land side. It was here that Lieut. Hobson came into the picture. He was with Sampson on the New York and, before the flagship left Key West to join the siege, had attempted to interest his superior in a scheme for an unsinkable boat which could run the fortifications and clear the channel of mines. This, it was argued, and take their chances of getting out alive. Hobson readily acquiesced in the feasibility of the scheme to more effectively confine the Spanish fleet and was selected to make the attempt and probably the supreme sacrifice. The collier Merrimac, whose balky engines had been giving no end of trouble to the fleet, was chosen to be the stopper in the Santiago bottle. On the way to the blockade Hobson method- jcally worked out his plans. Briefly they were to strip the Merrimac of all save the most vital gear, man her with a carefully chosen crew of six (later made seven), run her into the harbor under cover of darkness and sink her with & series of torpedoes attached to the outside of the hull. This accomplished, Hobson and his men, if they survived, were to try to get back to the fleet in a small boat. When the New York joined the blockade, Hobson's plans were complete on paper. All that remained was preparation of the collier and selection of the crew of volunteers willing to go on the hazardous enterprise. A signal was flown from the flagship that volunteers were wanted “for a desperate and, perhaps, fatal expedition.” The response, in accordance with the finest traditions of the American Navy, was immediate and enthusiastic. Virtually the whole fleet wanted to go. Names poured in by the hundred, many vehemently arguing special reasons why they should not be denied the joust with death. Capt. Miller of the Merrimac eloquently advanced his right to go, but as . there was to be only one officer and Miller was not familiar with the plan, his claim was re- jected. The sailors finally selected to go with Hobson were Daniel Montague of Brooklyn, N. Y.; George Charette of Massachusetts, J. E. Murphy and Randolph Clausen, all of the battleship New York; Osborn Warren Diegnan, George F. Phillips and Francis Kelly, members of the former Merrimac crew. It was expected that the collier would make her desperate dash into the harbor the might of June 1-2Z but preparations could not be completed in time and the attempt was post- poned until the following night. Then mental reactions of a man about to embark upon a death-defying adventure are described in Hob- son’s book, “The Sinking of the Merrimac.” “Those were hours of interesting experience before the start,” he wrote. “There was no diversion of the senses, and this fact and the feeling of loneliness seemed to deepen the im- pression of the closeness of God and nature. My business affairs had been disposed of at the beginning of the war, and I had no dis- quieting thoughts as to the past or the future. The mind and heart accepted the reality of things with deep, keen, exquisite delight. There were singular emotions, as the thoroughness of preparation and the sureness of execution be- came clearer and clearer, while the details and the processes were gone over again and again. Toward midnight, when there was no longer any chance of the moon failing, these emotions amounted to exultation, so much so that I could not help giving it expression.” T was 2:15 o'clock on the morning of June 3, when watchers of the fleet perceived the Merrimac was moving toward the harbor and George Edward Graham, an eyewitness, thus described the scene: “The coal steamer, without a light of any kind and not showing a particle of smoke, moved along like a huge ghost ship on the dark, gray sea. On her bridge, as she passed under the Brooklyn’s stern, could be seen three of her gallant crew, and one, whom we decided to be Hobson, removed his hat, while Com- modore Schley leaned forward and, waving his cap, said, ‘God bless you, my boy; good luck! “Slowly the Merrimac passed on toward the black opening beneath the Morro that, faced by two sharp hills, looked like a yawning cavern of death. From the bridge as we viewed it, the setting moon striking the yellowish stone of the castle and throwing the gorge at the entrance into a deep shadow, made the effect of a huge, gaping mouth with a single gleaming eye above it, waiting and watching for its prey. When about two miles from the Morro the Merrimac turned slightly to the west and ran into the dense shadow of the great hill at that side of the entrance. Then, running at full speed, she dashed for the entrance, and at 3:15 o'clock we, straining our eyes through the Continued on Ninth Page