Amelia Reyner, Sarawak in the Great War, (Pagalan: 2011)
The bombardment of Bandar Charles struck like a thunderbolt to the Sarawak establishment, but the event was equally shocking to the Sandakan naval command, whom never figured the event to go spectacularly in their favour. The destruction of the port town’s docks and the sinking of three Sarawakian gunships revealed two things to Italian Borneo: That Sarawak was weak against surprise raids and attacks, and that the kingdom’s naval forces were vastly outclassed to the
Regia Marina.
Within the next few days, a new strategy was born, based on the
Jeune École tactics formulated by the French. The Italian navy would conduct lightning attacks on British and Sarawakian shipping, disrupting their naval power and hampering the kingdom’s merchant marine. This would be followed by surprise invasions of Sarawakian ports and villages, bringing them under control with such rapidity that the Brookes could not formulate a counter-attack strategy in time. Any riverine vessels would be captured and commandeered to deal with the interior, and the rainforest tribes enticed with offers of security and autonomy to switch sides. With this, the entirety of Sabah and even chunks of Sarawak could fall under Italian hands, forcing Kuching to sign an early peace.
And with this, the officials of Sandakan took the initiative. The Sarawakian island of Balambangan was quickly seized, and the neighbouring island of Banggi – which harboured a Royal Navy refuelling station – was bombarded continuously until the garrison there surrendered. With the mouth of Marudu Bay secured, the
Regia Marina landed and took the strategic village of Kudat, bringing northern Sabah into their influence. Meanwhile, French and Italian cruisers on the high seas raided any ships that bore the Sarawak Cross or the Union Jack flags, disrupting the supply of goods to the kingdom’s northern territories. By the 14th of August, a swath of Sarawak’s coast stretching all the way to Tempasok was in enemy hands.
But it was the Natuna and Anambas archipelagos that faced the brunt of the offensive. Straddling the southern entryway of the South China Sea, the islands were too strategic to escape any attack. The administrative centre of Ranai was quickly taken, and the Italian navy – whom were quickly joined by their French allies – quickly turned the region's scattered geography to their advantage. Their gunboats would hide behind the cover of inlets and bays, ambushing any Sarawakian and Royal Navy ships that dared to pass by. Such was the prize of the island chains that the coat-of-arms of Savoy quickly replaced that of the Brooke family in the region, mirroring the claims at the nearby Spratlys that dragged the world into war. In August 15, a carefully orchestrated ceremony was held at Ranai, celebrating the inclusion of the Natuna, Anambas, and Spratly archipelagos into the Italian colonial empire.
A photograph showing Italian and French naval cadets parading in Ranai, Natuna Besar. Circa 1905
It would be the last celebration of Rome’s might in Sundaland.
Whatever the faults of her outdated navy, Sarawak was far from an ordinary nation. The attack on Bandar Charles and the sinking of Sarawak’s navy – no less crewed by Malays and Dayaks from various peoples – drove home the reality of war to many Sarawakians, and a fair number were eager to reply Sandakan back in kind. The call to war was met with a riotous cry, with chieftains from Bau to Panampang assembling their warriors to trek north. The jerry-rigged, Maxim gunned
Prahus that were used in Seria sailed onward, and the joint Anglo-Sarawakian fleet at Brunei began to operate in convoy, guarding the local merchant marine against any preying ironclads.
But even before the kingdom’s auxiliary forces assembled, the Sabahan locals began to fight back. The lands surrounding Marudu Bay used to produce exceptional warriors during the glory days of the Bruneian Empire, and the rule of the Sulu Sultanate preserved the wary nature of the local Malay, Dusun, and Rungus peoples
[1]. Ambush attacks dramatically rose, as did wildcat strikes to coastal vessels piloted by Italian captains. Forts that were occupied by colonial forces suddenly attracted all manner of poisonous and venomous creatures, panicking local commanders while the locals snickered as they hid their wicker cages.
Unsurprisingly, the reprisals were harsh. The fear of the locals besting them forced the new authorities to issue public punishments which, ironically, burned the bridges Sandakan intended to make with the tribes. Matters were not helped with the persistent rumours that the Italians will force Catholicism on Sarawakian Sabah, disturbing the already agitated Animist, Protestant, and Muslim populace. Additionally, the chieftains of western Sabah have enjoyed a measure of freedom under the Sarawakian system; many tribal leaders were members of the kingdom’s greatest assembly, and while the
Council Negri was only an advisory body during the era, it was still a body of influence. In a land where native peoples can influence local policy, offering total independence was a poison pill Sandakan wasn’t willing to swallow.
In any case, the tide of war was turning. The Franco-Italian
Jeune École strategy was perfect for surprising enemies, but hit-and-run tactics could only work so well against an armed convoy, which became the new policy of the Sarawakian and British Singaporean naval commands. Furthermore, Sandakan’s flashy claims over the region belie a daunting fact that they never consolidated their new island holdings in time. The arrival of further battleships from Australia and India added numerical leverage and the end of the Phuket theatre in late August allowed for a number of Ottoman war boats to enter the fray. Headed nationally by the Rajah Muda Clayton Brooke, the allied offensive saw parts of the Natuna and Anambas archipelago reclaimed by the month’s end, with Ranai back in Sarawakian control by the 31st.
An old postcard showcasing the aftermath of an Anglo-Sarawakian naval attack on a French light cruiser off the coast of Jemaja Island, on the Anambas Archipelago. Circa 1906
The situation on land was equally disastrous. Despite controlling the river mouths and coastal towns, the interior proved impossible to subdue. Whatever expeditions that tried to exert inland control faced the wrath of guerrilla attacks and tropical disease, all cloaked under the hostile mountainous terrain and the seemingly unending curtain of the rainforest. Befitting the geography, the rivers of northern Sabah possessed many cascades and falls, making riverine gunboats useless. Scouting parties would be ambushed with the attackers using the same hit-and-run tactics Sandakan had formulated, or sniped from afar with arrows, darts, and rifle bullets, with the shooters seemingly melding into the undergrowth. Despite some success in expansion in some places, the end of August saw Italian forces only commanding the lowland river forts, surrounded by hostile territories.
As the
Regia Marina began to buckle at sea, control of northern Sabah became tenuous and fragile, especially once Rajah Charles and his heir Clark Brooke launched a grand offensive to take back the region in that very month. Deprived of reinforcements and with their navy on the retreat, the Sandakan command started to ponder on more radical solutions…
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Near the village of Timbang Batu, Northern Sabah, 2nd September 1905
Si Gunting
[2] steadied his rifle, and the sentry heard no sound.
The Rungus leader cautioned himself. The weapon on his hands felt a lot different than the usual spear he carried, and learning how to operate it was an experience in of itself. With the local fort now within sight, it would be the pinnacle of folly to reveal his position through a simple handling mistake.
Especially with the invaders using local scum to serve their needs.
With the sentry now gone, Si Gunting peered out from the heavy undergrowth and across the field. Sure enough, the guards inhabiting the fort were a mixed crew of foreigners and local men, the result of courting the region’s criminals and louts from the surrounding villages, gaols, and workfields. The sight was one for any wandering eye – the
Orang Itali with their white skin and strange clothing, followed by the local folk lagging behind with their rifles in tow.
Then again, Si Gunting’s own work as a spy for the Sarawak Rangers speaks to just how much things have changed.
No doubt enticed with the promise of wealth and power, he thought. Still, their presence also added a complication, for who better to know how to build defensive works than the locals? Indeed, the fort before him was notably unusual in design: A squat center building surrounded by high palisades; an assortment of watchtowers alongside the main entrance, fitted with Maxim guns; a series of ditches and pits surrounding the structure, filled with spikes to slow down movement; and an open field all around to deter any attackers of the element of surprise.
Impressive. Very impressive.
“This is bad. What do we do, now?”
Si Gunting turned around. For a moment, he had forgotten his partner standing alongside the bushes, hauling his blowpipe.
The Rungus man turned back. “Not here. Follow me.” The local involvement at the fort meant that the usual attack strategy must be altered. With careful steps, the duo turned back and trekked the paths and trails that weaved through the foothills of the Kinabalu range, being careful not to trip over the buttress roots and small gullies laying their way.
“We must change our tactics. They are now ready for our attacks.” But for all that, Si Gunting could already see one flaw in the fort’s design. At close quarters, he and his men would be decimated by the Italians’ arsenal.
But from afar…
“And we might need to send word for more arms.”
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Footnotes:
The war for Sabah and Sarawak has now begun in earnest, with Italy – and to a lesser extent, France – taking the initiative on the open seas. However, their tactics are not foolproof and their rapid attacks mask a brittle consolidation over Sarawakian Borneo and the oceanic archipelagos. The whole update is a tad breezy, if only because I’m less familiar with naval warfare and that the meat of the fighting shall occur on land (and on the next update).
And don’t worry about Brunei. We shall return there soon.
1) For quite some time, northern Sabah served as the borderlands between the Bruneian Empire and the Sulu Sultanate, making it a rather wild place to sail (as the crew of
Betsy in 1805
learned first-hand). The region also gave rise to such figures like
Syarif Osman, a local notable who even managed to carve his own state there in the mid-19th century before falling to James Brooke. If there is one regret about this timeline, it’s not knowing about him till it was too late.
2)
Si Gunting is a real-life figure from the Rungus subgroup who led a rebellion against British North Borneo, lasting from 1894 to 1901. Ostensibly, his displease came from an official’s reluctance to perform the ceremonial dowry to a local girl, though other sources indicate that he had some bad blood beforehand between himself, the local police, and the North Bornean clerks.
In any case, he went on a warpath until 1901 and was granted amnesty after spilling some secrets on another rebellious leader to the authorities. He even became the community leader for the Rungus subgroup of northern Sabah until his death in 1905. ITTL, the ripple effect of a different Sarawak and the lighter hand of the administration wouldn’t compel him to rebel, and his knowledge of the region would make him an invaluable ally.