Club’s First Dinner 1904

Written by General Charles West

An Anglo-American tradition started at Manila Bay in 1898 as the result of a rather obscure naval and military action prior to securing the city. The American forces were under the command of Commodore George W. Dewey, USN.

Before Dewey’s fleet proceeded to the Philippines, it put in at Hong Kong to fuel up and provision. Whilst there, he and Royal Navy Captain Edward Chichester (later Admiral Sir Edward), became very good friends. As the U.S. armada later steamed out of Hong Kong Harbor bound for the Philippines, the Royal Navy lined up to bid farewell to their American colleagues as their bands played “The Star Spangled Banner.” Commodore Dewey’s American fleet of steel and coal-fired steamships left their “neutral” friends accompanied by two British merchant ships carrying coal which were manned by British volunteers. Chichester’s Royal Navy squadron followed the American forces to Manila and was nearby during the decisive naval engagement that followed at Manila Bay. The operations at Manila Bay were becoming big theatre, with an international group of participants and observers, consisting of naval vessels from the US, Great Britain, France, Japan, Germany, and even an unfortunate stray Spanish vessel.

After decisively smashing the Spanish fleet, Dewey had to await the arrival of U.S. Army troops from the west coast of America in order to take the city. In 1898, Manila was indeed at the ends of the earth, mercifully cut off from interference from politicians in either Foggy Bottom or Whitehall (if only that were the case today!). The Army’s mobilization back on the U.S. mainland was hastily – but surprisingly well – mounted and 5,000 troops were dispatched in two echelons. Whilst waiting at sea, Dewey’s naval force was joined by Captain Chichester’s British squadron.

There then arrived upon the scene a substantial and menacing German flotilla, a force larger even than Dewey’s, under command of a not-so-friendly Vice Admiral Otto von Diederichs. Germany was then only just beginning to embark on her quest for power and influence in the Pacific. The friendship between Dewey and Chichester grew stronger by the day, and they regularly exchanged dinner visits to each other’s flagships. Since the British ships’ messes served spirits and the U.S. ships were, alas, then as now, as dry as dust, one can reasonably assume that Dewey did most of the visiting.

In an already tense situation von Diederichs exacerbated matters by ordering some of his vessels to knife through the American flotilla without rendering the proper salutes, thereby, violating naval protocol. It was an act of sheer provocation. His patience worn thin, Dewey demanded of a German staff officer, “Do you want war with us?” “Certainly not.” “Well, it certainly looks like it, and you are very near it …. If you desire war you can have it right here.” The German backed down and beat a hasty retreat. The violations of naval protocol ceased forthwith.

When the U.S. soldiers arrived from California, Dewey made ready to move his force in to take the city of Manila. As his ships steamed up and got underway, the Germans moved in such a manner as to suggest that they intended to cut across his bow (in polo terms to “ride him off’). The Brits quickly realized what was happening and, in turn, interposed themselves between the Americans and Germans, thereby enabling Dewey to sail on uninterrupted. As the U.S. ships sailed past the Royal Navy squadron, once again all of the British ships were fully dressed, all ships’ flags flying, with their seamen in whites lining the rails wildly cheering. Chichester this time ordered his ships’ bands to play “Under The Double Eagle”, Dewey’s favorite march.

The U.S. soldiers took the city with negligible casualties. In fact, the land “battle” was actually a bit of a charade, as prior to contact, details for it had been arranged between Dewey’s staff officers and the Spanish commander as a means of permitting the latter to surrender with dignity and to save both the city and the Spanish troops from destruction.

From the United States and Royal Navy ships, the operations at sea and on land were viewed firsthand by news correspondents from both the U.S. and Britain, who then went ashore to observe the actual taking of Manila. After the actions, the members of the press hosted a splendid dinner at the Manila Hotel to honor the officers of both nations. (Oh to have served in those halcyon days when our armed services could count on the press for support and praise!).

Commodore Dewey was subsequently promoted to Admiral of the Navy, a rank that no one has held, before or since, in the US Navy. The Union League Club held a celebratory reception for him upon his return and his photograph can be seen in the 2nd floor lobby outside the library.

The camaraderie, the fellowship, the “touch of elbows,” enjoyed at the first dinner were such that it was decided, on the spot, by both the British and American officers to perpetuate the event on both sides of the Atlantic. The British Section held their first dinner shortly thereafter in London, and the American Section followed with its first dinner in New York in 1903.

Today, more than a century after the Manila dinner, Americans and Britons continue to meet to touch elbows, to celebrate, not only the Anglo-American cooperation and fellowship of 1898 at the “ends of the earth”, which is considered to be the beginning of the “Special Relationship”, but also very many events over the years in which Brits and Yanks have worked together, fought together, played together and prayed together. The continuing theme of the Dinners carries forward that heritage of friendship and cooperation. Members of both the British and the American Sections have been drawn from the ranks of distinguished naval and military figures, statesmen, officers of government, diplomats, philanthropists, lawyers, businessmen, bankers, divines, scientists, writers, artists, educators, scholars, explorers, professional men, social leaders, all just plain “good fellows.” Rudyard Kipling was at one time a member of the British Section, and Samuel Clemens (a.k.a. Mark Twain) the American.

The evening’s program consists of a “social” hour (or so), a splendid dinner, and an address by a distinguished speaker, most often a member. There is no publicity, no press cover, no honorarium. A speaker’s remarks are entirely off the record. There is no rank at the Dinners; every person is there by virtue of his own accomplishments or, if you will, through his own “deeds – great and small – of derring-do at the ends of the earth,” as Lord Cromer, British Ambassador to the United States, once said. There is, however, one exception to our “all equal” rule; it concerns our Medal of Honor recipients. We accord them very special honor indeed!

Based on over a century of experience, everything at the Dinner moves along in a casual manner, much like a well-ordered British Army or Royal Naval mess, all very proper, all delightfully informal. There are only three toasts: The Queen, The President of the United States, and Absent Friends.

This is how we celebrate the “Special Relationship” amongst friends.