CHILE: Army v. Navy

Soldiers & sailors take an oath to defend the best interests of their country, come what may, but Chilean sailors, members of the second greatest fleet in South America, do not care. Early last week rumor ran through the battle fleet at Coquimbo that the Provisional Government of President Manuel Trucco (third since the flight of Dictator Ibanez), was preparing to cut the pay of all noncommissioned ratings as an economy move. Overnight mutiny flared.

One Rogelio Reyes, an electrician on the flagship Almirante, was the leader. Electrician Reyes had gone to Great Britain two years ago when his ship was being refitted in British dockyards and had listened earnestly to the Red talk of Clyde-side Laborites. Under his orders the crews of every ship at Coquimbo locked their officers in their cabins and forced them to sign an ultimatum to the Government that the navy would not permit any reduction in salaries. Then the navy, Chile’s pride, waited.

From Santiago the Trucco Government sent Admiral von Schroeder by airplane to treat with the rebels. Chile’s army & navy have had many an old German warrior on their rosters. The army still wears Prussian spiked helmets on dress parade. But Chilean Admiral Eduardo von Schroeder is not to be confused with Prussian Admiral August Ludwig von Schroeder, who was a German Wartime fleet commander. Admiral Eduardo is young, amiable, Chilean born. His father, despite his name, was a Russian and went to Chile many years ago as consul at Santiago for the Imperial Government. Last week Admiral Eduardo rode in a launch out to the flagship, the grey-sided Almirante Latorre* while mutineer sailors stared open-mouthed from the bridge. His terms were simple. The Government had given up all thought of cutting the sailors’ pay, but the navy must surrender within 24 hours; otherwise it would be blown from the harbor by the air force and coast defense forts.

Forty years ago the Chilean navy won a revolution. Last week’s mutineers did not give up. The naval base at Talcahuano joined the revolt. So did the sailors and cadets of the Naval Training School at Valparaiso. Fortunately for President Trucco the army stayed loyal. Within a couple of hours the Valparaiso cadets had surrendered and regiments were moving down the coast against Talcahuano.

Communists. Newspapers carried a new threat next morning: The mutineer sailors were really planning with the assistance of Communists on shore to set up a Chilean Soviet. For the first time in a Latin-American revolution, Communism was a real problem. The idea was disproved later in the week, but there was enough truth in the story to cause grave concern. Because of poverty, there is a sizeable body of Communists in Chile. Breadlines stretch through all the big cities. The country has had to default on its foreign debt. Of Chile’s 4,000,000 inhabitants, over 100,000 are unemployed. Copper and nitrates are the country’s two biggest industries; both are largely owned by U. S. capital, both are seriously depressed. In an effort to revive the Guggenheim-controlled nitrate industry, a great holding company known as the Compania Salitre de Chile (“Cosach”) was formed to fight German synthetic nitrates by modernizing, mechanizing the Chilean nitrate fields (TIME, July 28, 1930). It was a successful move from the stockholders’ point of view, but the new machinery has put thousands of Chileans out of work. Such people are ripe fodder for Communism. As soon as the Communist scare started the streets of Santiago and Valparaiso were filled with clattering Carabineros riding their horses over the sidewalks, poking their long lances into doorways and alleys. In the foreign residential section of Los Leones, U. S., German, British and French residents formed a Home Guard, elected their own officers, marched up & down the streets armed with shotguns.

Talcahuano, There was bitter fighting at Talcahuano. Naval mutineers held not only the ships in the harbor but the coast defense forts ashore. Three’ loyal regiments stormed the fort and finally captured it, but not before nearly a hundred men had been killed. Trying to help their comrades on the shore, rebels on the modern destroyer Almirante Riveras swung her close to the shore batteries under a white flag. Suddenly she dropped her flag and opened fire. Bombing planes took off. Shore batteries and the Almirante Riveros exchanged shot for shot. The Almirante Riveras was beaten out to take shelter behind Quinquina Island and surrender. In three hours Talcahuano was in Federal hands. Despite official denials, Santiago gossips insisted last week that every fifth man in the rebel garrison was taken out and shot.

Coquimbo. Eleven ships under the Almirante Latorre were waiting off Coquimbo for the rebels’ last stand. Their leader, Electrician Rogelio Reyes, seemed to have lost his head completely. Knowing that a squadron of some 40 planes, including at least a dozen Dornier-Wahl and Junkers bombers, were preparing to sink the fleet, the rebels steamed out to sea under cover of fog. Then, realizing that they had no food for an extended cruise, no place to go, steamed back again.

At 5 145 p. m. the planes took off, while Coquimbo’s citizenry with their wives and baby carriages lined the shore. U. S. observers, remembering the difficulties of U. S. Army pilots in hitting the unarmed Mt. Shasta (TIME, Aug. 24), wondered what success they would have. The Chilean aviators did not actually sink anything but they had an unanswerable alibi: It was their duty not to damage valuable government property more than was absolutely necessary. In the line of duty they hit the General O’Higgins right on the nose. Her prow burst into flames which were quickly put out. There was no score on the Almirante Latorre but her two blazing anti-aircraft guns perforated one of the planes’ wings. One bomb landed full on a ship’s launch, killed eight men.

As the battle waxed hotter the spectators on shore suddenly realized that this was not just a glorified spectacle for their amusement. Bullets whined in their direction. They stampeded, baby carriages and all. For just such an emergency the Government had two special trains waiting at the station, but it was not enough. Most of Coquimbo’s citizenry took to the mountains, on foot.

Many of the rebels tried to do the same. As the bombs whistled about their ears they dove gracefully overboard, swam ashore but were captured. After half an hour’s bombardment the planes returned to land. The aviators sent word that next time they would really try to hit the fleet. Coquimbo’s rebels believed them. They all surrendered.

* Not to be confused with most Latin-American navies is the Chilean. Their battle fleet is modernized, the Almirante Latorre is a first-class vessel. Laid down for Chile in England in 1911, she was bought by the British at the beginning of the War and served as the Canada. Chile finally received her in 1920. In 1929 she went back to Great Britain to be overhauled, modernized.