Absent Queen, Runaway Battleship

Plump and pink Queen Wilhelmina, whose nose grew red as she went sleigh-riding in Switzerland last week, pronounced a solemn Speech from the Throne before she left The Hague. Mindful of her Dutch East Indies, in which live 60,000,000 of Her Majesty's 69,000,000 subjects, she gave them a new and more dignified name: Netherlands India.

Names mean less than pay cuts. When Dutch and native sailors in Her Majesty's Navy had their wages docked last month, respectively 14% and 17% an ugly mutiny followed at the principal naval base of the huge Island of Java. Promptly 400 mutineers were thrown into jail, where they still were last week.

Meanwhile, 1.500 miles away on the northern tip of the even huger Island of Sumatra, Her Majesty's biggest battleship, the 16-knot De Zeven Provincien, mounting two 11-in. and four 5.9-in. Krupp guns, cast anchor in Oleleh Harbor. Smacking their lips at the prospect of lavish Dutch planter hospitality. Commander Eikenboom and his ranking officers went amiably ashore.

When they tried shortly after 2 a. m. to return to the De Zeven Provincien she had vanished. In an open boat one of her junior officers rowed ashore, told how the native crew had mutinied, put all junior officers except himself in irons and steamed full speed out into the Indian Ocean.

Knowing well that the De Zeven Provincien could blow him out of water. Commander Eikenboom started chasing her in a small steamer. Sounding a general radio alarm, he roused Vice Admiral Osten and Netherlands India's entire fleet to pursue the De Zeven Provincien. Twenty-four hours later she was located, making a misguided dash for Java's Navy Yard, apparently in an effort to rescue the 400 imprisoned mutineers.

Speeding at 25 knots, two Dutch destroyers and the modern cruiser Java strained to overtake the De Zeven Provincien, though her 12-inch guns could easily pierce their light armor. "We do not intend violence." plaintively radioed the native mutineers in a message addressed to the World Press. "Our object is protest. No one on board has been harmed."

Later the mutineers proposed "conditional surrender." Their terms were relayed to land stations in Netherlands India, thence to Her Majesty's Government 9,000 miles distant at The Hague. Evidently scared, the mutineers asked no more than amnesty, with the implied threat that if this were not granted they might do mischief to the eight Dutch junior officers in their power. Bold as a lion at The Hague, fiery Dutch Defense Minister Deckers held out for unconditional surrender.

"Are you prepared," shouted an Opposition Deputy, "to sacrifice the lives of the junior officers on board the De Zeven Provincien?"

"Any man who is not prepared to die for his country," witheringly retorted Defense Minister Deckers, "is not fit to live!"

Obeying Defense Minister Deckers' orders, Vice Admiral Osten instructed the pursuing Java & destroyers which had been joined by two Dutch submarines to seize the De Zeven Provincien at any cost. Just at dawn seaplanes with bombs in their bellies were hoisted off the Java's decks.

"Heave to!" radioed the Java to the mutineers. "Show a white tarpaulin on the awning deck. Surrender and abandon ship!"

"Don't hinder us!" curtly radioed back the mutineers. For hours the bombing planes wheeled like vultures around the De Zeven Provincien, but the nerves of her brown-skinned mutineers did not crack. They ignored a bomb dropped ahead of their prow, another dropped alongside. Finally bombing began in earnest. At 9:15 a. m. the De Zeven Provincien, which had fired neither shot nor shell, was caught amidships by a direct bomb hit. Her deck blazed up. Panic stricken at last, some mutineers took to the ship's boats, others leaped overboard with wild, defiant yells. At the moment they abandoned ship, Dutch Naval censorship clamped down tight.

"The fire was not serious," declared a terse communique. "The former officers of the De Zeven Provincien have taken command and will head for Java with a naval escort."

Not a word about the fate of the mutineers. At The Hague stiff-necked Premier Ruys de Beerenbrouck faced and overawed protests in the Lower House against his Government's method of recovering the De Zeven Provincien. Voted down 51 to 38 on a measure having to do with judicial & penal economies, the Premier tartly stated that he refused to recognize this setback as a vote of "no confidence." He would, he promised, inform Queen Wilhelmina by telegraph of what the Lower House had done. Abashed, the Lower House hastily adjourned over the week end.

Perturbed by her Premier's wire, Queen Wilhelmina Helena Pauline Maria stopped sleighriding in Switzerland and hurried back to the problems of state at The Hague. Thousands of her pink-cheeked, well-scrubbed subjects swarmed to the railway station to greet her. Refusing to let the royal automobile whisk her away until they had demonstrated their loyalty, the throng sang patriotic songs, roared time & again the old, old Dutch cheer, not "Long live the Queen!" but "Hold the Sea! Hold the Sea! Hold the Sea!"

As the De Zeven Provincien approached Batavia, Java, it became impossible to keep secret that the bomb had killed 22 of Her Majesty's subjects, including three Dutch seamen, wounded 25, ripped a great hole in the ship's deck armour, wrecked her signal station, blown her funnels to bits and mortally wounded the chief mutineer, one Bosschart, who died in agony two hours later.

Slightly wounded was Baron de Vos Van Steenwijk, one of the officers aboard the De Zeven Provincien when she was seized. For Hearstpapers the Baron described his adventure, which turned out to have been fairly cozy: "While I and some other officers and non-commissioned officers were in our quarters aboard the De Zeven Provincien, we suddenly became aware the engines had started and the ship was leaving Oleleh Harbor. We were informed by telephone in our quarters that mutineers had taken over the ship. . . . On Sunday, life was normal aboard ship, except that we officers were prisoners and the De Zeven Provincien was directed by her native crew. . . .

"Just as the bomb hit, four Dutch sailors jumped overboard. They were rescued by tugs. . . . The cries of the wounded were horrible. ... All the dead will be buried on the Island of Onrust."

In Amsterdam solemn Social Democrats filed protests against the Government's "murder" of Dutch sailors. More frivolous, the Independent Socialists staged an aquatic pageant of ridicule, sent through Amsterdam's canals a small boat placarded DE ZEVEN PROVINCIEN on which stood a wag disguised as the Premier, another holding a Bible & oil can and a third tricked out as a Royal Dutch Co. (petroleum) official. Shocked by such sights, dignified Dutch policemen promptly arrested the fun-making crew as soon as they could persuade them to come ashore. Firmly at Helder, Dutch Naval Base in Northern Holland, officers mounted guard with drawn revolvers, ready to shoot at the first sign of mutiny.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.