THE RUSSIAN SUBMARINE.
By dint of wheedling entreaty and the most lavish promises on my part that I would on no account attempt to do any actual work, I succeeded in inducing the doctor to discharge me from the hospital on the second day after the departure of the Admiral, with General Oku’s transports, to Pi-tse-wo.
I was discharged shortly after eleven o’clock in the morning, and was conveyed in a hand ambulance down to the landing-place, where my boat was waiting for me, having been semaphored for, the instant that I obtained my discharge. I was glad to find myself aboard my own little ship once more; and the crew seemed to be as glad to see me as I was to see them; for it appeared that during my absence the Kasanumi had been employed upon nothing but patrol work, which was not at all to the taste of my lads. Young Hiraoka, my lieutenant, seemed keenly disappointed when he learned that our most exciting work, for some time to come, was to be the construction of the long boom; but philosophically remarked that no doubt as soon as the Russians learned what we were about, we should have a few of their destroyers paying us a call, when we might hope for a little fun.
By the time that I got aboard, it was noon; and I at once signalled the transports, asking how soon they could be ready to start. The reply was that, not expecting to be called upon to go to sea so soon, their fires were all out—but boilers were full and fires laid, and they could have steam in three hours; whereupon I made the signal to light fires at once, and report when they were ready to move. Then I got into a reclining chair under the awning aft, and, having partaken of a hasty luncheon, treated myself to a snooze, since I expected to be up all night.
We all got under way shortly after three o’clock in the afternoon, and, having cleared the harbour, headed away north-west for the Elliot group. The weather was, for a wonder, beautifully fine, no fog, very few clouds, brilliant sunshine, very little wind, and the water as smooth as a mill pond; consequently we made very good progress, although the speed of the slowest transport was only ten knots, and of course the rest of us had to regulate our pace by hers. Had the weather been threatening I should of course have been anxious, but the barometer stood high, and as even at ten knots the passage would only occupy about thirteen hours, I felt quite easy in my mind.
The trip across the Yellow Sea was made without mishap or adventure until we arrived within about twelve miles of our destination. The night was still gloriously fine, the water smooth, the stars brilliant, and the moon, within about an hour of setting, hung in the western sky, spreading a broad path of silver on the surface of the gently heaving sea. It was a few minutes after four bells in the middle watch when, having been dozing for some time in my chair, which had been taken up to the bridge for my convenience, I scrambled to my feet and began to pace to and fro, for I was feeling somewhat chilly, although wrapped in a good warm ulster.
The beauty of the night fascinated me. It was so calm and peaceful, and the air, although a trifle cool, was yet bland, as though it were a breath of the coming summer; and, looking back upon what we had been called upon to endure of storm and darkness, and bitter, numbing cold and wet, I rejoiced that summer was at hand, hoping that, before winter came again, there would be peace, and that our nightly buffetings by arctic winds, hail, snow, and icy seas would be at an end.
As these thoughts passed through my mind, my gaze fixed itself contemplatively on the broad path of silver—now imperceptibly changing to liquid gold—cast upon the surface of the sea by the setting moon; and, as I gazed, I gradually became aware of a tiny black object, about a mile away, on our port bow, rising and falling with the lazy heave of the swell. In that mine-strewn sea the smallest and least conspicuous floating object demanded one’s instant and most careful attention, and whipping my binoculars out of the case, strapped to the bridge rail, I quickly focused them upon it. Through the glasses it looked very like the top of a ship’s galley funnel, though not quite so stout, and it was moving as though to cross our hawse, for with the help of the glasses I could see the little ripple of scintillating foam it piled up before it.
I knew in an instant what it was, for I had seen submarines before, and at once recognised the slender object forging through the water out yonder as the upper portion of a submarine’s periscope.
Of course she had seen us, probably a good half-hour before, or she would not be submerged; and the course she was steering indicated that she was bent upon mischief.
I congratulated myself upon having sighted her in good time before entering her danger zone, for the Kasanumi was about a mile ahead of the main body of our little fleet, and I felt that I should have time to deal with her before the others came up. The question was: would she attack the destroyer, or would she allow us to pass and reserve her energies for the transports, under the impression that they were carrying troops? It was impossible to guess, and it would never do to take any chance; I therefore pointed out the periscope to young Hiraoka, told him what it was, and then ordered him to go down quietly, have the hands called, and get all guns loaded. The thought of trying to get in a torpedo before the Russian discharged hers, occurred to me; but I decided against it, as some of our torpedoes had a trick of running erratically.
Meanwhile, we continued to potter along at ten knots, as though we had seen nothing and had not so much as the ghost of a suspicion that submarines were in our neighbourhood. There was but one, so far as I could see; and indeed until that moment we never suspected the Russians of having any in those seas, although vague rumours—which we had never been able to substantiate—had reached us of submarines having been brought overland to Port Arthur from Petersburg in sections.
With my eyes glued to my binoculars, and my binoculars focused steadily upon that small pole-like object protruding a bare two feet above that shimmering, silvery sheen of water, I directed the signalman near me to ring down the order to the engine-room to “Stand by”; and then to fetch our wireless operator to me. In a few words I explained the situation to this youngster, when he came, and gave him his orders, while the sounds of Hiraoka’s preparations came to my ears.
Suddenly, as I watched the periscope every moment becoming more distinct, I noticed that the ripple of foam about it was steadily lessening, and presently it disappeared altogether. The submarine had evidently stopped her engines, and was lying in wait, either to torpedo us as we passed, or to permit us to pass on unsuspecting, and then get in her work upon the transports. It was a bit of luck which I had not dared to hope for, and I instantly made my plans. Steadily the Kasanumi held on, as though utterly unsuspecting, steering a course which, if continued, would take us athwart the submarine’s hawse at a distance of about three hundred yards, or less than half the effective range of her torpedo.
Was she stealthily altering her position under water, turning her bows toward us, so as to torpedo us the moment we should arrive within range, or was she trusting that her presence was undetected, and waiting patiently for the moment when we should cross her bows as she lay? The latter, I believed, for she could not cant toward us without going either ahead or astern, and she could not do either without her periscope raising a ripple; and I was certain that nothing of that sort had happened. I determined to risk something, after all, to put that submarine out of action, and so held steadily on. At length we arrived so close that I could see the periscope almost as distinctly without the glasses as with them, and still intently watching it, I laid my hand on the engine-room telegraph, carefully estimating the steadily decreasing distance which separated us from moment to moment.
Six hundred yards. Five hundred. Four-fifty. Four hundred. I crashed the telegraph handles over to “Full speed ahead!” on both engines, and never moving my eyes for an instant from the periscope, directed the helmsman to steer straight for it. The submarine was lying motionless and inert there, some fifteen feet beneath the surface; and I calculated that it would take the Russians at least half a minute to realise that they were discovered, and to get way upon their craft; and by that time we should be so close to them that it would be impossible for them either to dive or to turn the submarine bows on to us, much less to escape. Then, as I felt the destroyer leap forward beneath me, like a spirited horse at the cut of a whip, I blew my whistle, as a signal to “Sparks,” who instantly wirelessed back to the main body to stop until further orders, and to keep a sharp lookout for submarines.
Like a greyhound slipped from the leash, the Kasanumi rushed at that luckless periscope, about which a few bubbles of foam were just beginning to gather at the moment when our stem, towering over it, hid it from my sight. The next instant our hull swept over it and of course snapped it clean off, although we felt no shock whatever, for our draught of water was too light for our keel to reach the submarine’s conning tower. But by the loss of her periscope the craft was effectually blinded, and now she was at our mercy, for she must come to the surface, sooner or later, while, so smooth was the water, the swirl or wake of her as she forged ahead was clearly perceptible, and all we now had to do was to follow her until she rose, and then take or sink her.
As I lost sight of the periscope, I rang down to stop and reverse both engines, at the same time ordering our helm hard a-port. Then, as we checked and lost way, we went ahead, first on our port engine and then on both, at the same time shifting our helm, so as to get into the wake of the submarine. We managed to do this before quite losing sight of the disturbance made by her passage through the water; and, this done, we regulated our pace by hers, maintaining a distance of about fifty fathoms between her and ourselves. She shifted her helm several times in an evident attempt to baffle pursuit; but, thanks to the tell-tale swirl she raised, we were able to follow her; and at length, after a chase of about three-quarters of an hour, she rose to the surface, the watertight door of her tower opened, and a man’s head appeared.
He looked greatly astonished to see us within a biscuit-toss of him, and instantly ducked out of sight, leaving the hatch open, however, and we heard him shouting something to some one in the boat’s interior. A few seconds later another head appeared, stared at us fixedly for a few seconds—during which young Hiraoka, who had a very fair knowledge of Russian, hailed him to surrender—and he, too, disappeared. Then, while we were patiently awaiting further developments, the submarine, which was still going ahead, suddenly inclined her bows and, before we could do anything, dived with her hatch open! The brave fellows who manned her, evidently taking a leaf out of their opponents’ book, had chosen death rather than surrender, and had deliberately plunged to the bottom rather than yield their vessel to us! For, of course, the craft was never seen again, nor did any of her crew come to the surface, although we hove-to for an hour or more, and got our boat out in readiness to pick up any one who might escape from that steel coffin.
I was quite prepared to hear a loud cheer of exultation burst from the lips of my crew when they realised what had happened. But no. There is nothing that the Japanese admire more than courage; and such a deliberate act of devoted self-sacrifice for the honour of one’s country and flag as they had just beheld, called forth merely a low-spoken murmur of intense, almost envious praise.
We arrived at our destination without further adventure, and dropped anchor in the roadstead just as the sun rose above the horizon, flooding the rocky shores of the Elliots with gold, and were heartily greeted by the few craft which we found lying at anchor there.
Looking back upon our adventure with the Russian submarine, I could not help regarding it as almost providential that we had encountered her; for I think there can be very little doubt that when we fell in with her she must have been on her way to the Elliot archipelago, where, had she arrived safely, she might have found more than one spot in which she could have lain perdu, to emerge at a favourable moment and destroy at least one, if not more, of our most precious battleships.
Giving orders for the immediate discharge of the materials for the boom, at a spot which I selected immediately after we had come to an anchor, I turned in and slept soundly until past midday, resting again all the afternoon; so that when evening came I had quite recovered from the fatigue of the previous night, and was pronounced by the doctor in charge of the hospital ashore to be progressing toward complete recovery quite as rapidly as could be reasonably expected, while my wound was healing in fine style. About four o’clock that afternoon, word was brought to me that the whole of the materials intended for the construction of the boom had been landed; and I went ashore to inspect them. They consisted for the most part of enormous balks of timber and massive cables; but there were also immense quantities of chain to serve as lashings, stout staples, iron bars, innumerable bundles of long, massive, pointed spikes, and thousands of empty casks, stoutly hooped, without bung-holes, and coated with pitch to ensure permanent watertight-ness. Commander Tsuchiya, whom I had placed in charge of the discharging operations, had done his work well, stacking the various items each by itself, and keeping a careful account of the quantities of each. He handed me a copy of his list, and after I had inspected the whole of the material, I returned to my ship and sat down to plan out the details of the construction of the boom, which, with the list of the quantities before me, was a comparatively easy task.
Dawn of the following day found us all ready to make a start, and with Tsuchiya again as my principal aide, we quickly got to work, pressing every available hand into the service. Many hands make light and quick work, especially where those hands are willing, but I was astonished at the ardour and zest which those handy little Japanese seamen manifested; they toiled untiringly all through that long, hot day, with the result that, when we knocked off at nightfall, we had considerably more than half a mile of that boom put together and secured in position by ponderous anchors and stout chain cables.
We were hard at work upon the boom again when, during the afternoon of the following day, our battle fleet returned from Pi-tse-wo, after covering the landing of General Oku’s army. The fleet steamed in between the islands and Cape Terminal on the mainland, toward which we were running the boom; and my friend Ijichi, the skipper of the Mikasa, told me, with a laugh, that when the little Admiral first saw the boom and made out what it was, he could hardly credit his eyes. He had been under the impression that I was still in hospital, and would probably not be able to get to work for a week or more. Yet there I was, as large as life, in a picket boat, with my head still swathed in a bandage, superintending operations, and clearly recognisable with the assistance of a pair of binoculars. And when at the close of the day I went aboard the flagship to report myself, Togo did not hesitate to let me understand how intensely gratified he was at the progress which we had made.
Meanwhile, I was fast progressing toward complete recovery; and on the day following the return of the fleet to the Elliots, the bandage was removed from my head, and I was pronounced to be practically all right once more. And, to add to my gratification, a destroyer arrived from Sasebo, bringing mails for the fleet, among which were no less than three delightful letters from my friends the Gordons, at home, and two, equally delightful, from my Sasebo friends, Mr Boyd and his wife. Those from the Gordons were full of congratulations; for I gathered from them that a long and circumstantial account of our second attempt to seal up Port Arthur harbour had appeared in the home newspapers, in which somewhat conspicuous mention was made of my doings, and my friends were delighted to learn that I was “so successfully maintaining the finest traditions of the British Navy,” as they were kindly pleased to put it. My chum, Ronald, was particularly chirpy about it, expressing in no measured terms the wish that he could have been with me, while he informed me that, notwithstanding the painful circumstances under which I had left the Terrible —and the British Navy—the officers of that ship, with only one or two exceptions, had expressed their gratification, while several of them, whom he named, had desired him to convey to me their congratulations and good wishes.
During the next day or two excellent progress was made with the construction of the long boom; and then came a spell of bad weather which, although it did not hinder the putting together of the sections of the boom, in the smooth water of the anchorage, rendered it impossible for us to tow them out and splice them to the portion already in position. But although the bad weather greatly delayed us in this way, we did not altogether regret it, for the heavy sea kicked up by the gales afforded a splendid test of that portion of the boom already in place, and we were greatly gratified, as we steamed out day after day to examine it, to find that it had not been damaged or displaced in the smallest degree.
It was toward the end of the third week of May that the Admiral signalled me to proceed on board the flagship. It was late in the afternoon of a thoroughly wretched day; the wind had been blowing hard from the south’ard for the past three or four days, with almost incessant rain, and there was a very heavy sea running between the islands and the main. I had just returned from my second inspection of the boom that day, and I naturally thought that the signal indicated a desire on the part of the Admiral to question me in relation to the stability of the structure. And when I entered his cabin, and he greeted me with the question:
“Well, Captain Swinburne, how is the boom standing the sea, out yonder?” I was confirmed in my opinion. But I presently found that I was mistaken; for when I had told him all that there was to tell about the boom, and he had expressed his satisfaction, he said:
“By the way, it is Commander Tsuchiya who has been your chief assistant in this work, is it not?”
I replied in the affirmative.
“And I suppose he understands the whole business pretty well by this time, eh?” the Admiral continued.
“Every bit as well as I do, sir,” I answered, seeming to scent other work for myself at no great distance.
“That is good,” commented Togo. “Do you think he would be capable of completing the work without further assistance from you?”
“Undoubtedly he would, sir,” I replied. “Indeed, I think it right to say that, after the first day, Commander Tsuchiya required no help or suggestion of any kind from me at all. He seemed to perfectly understand the principle of the boom’s construction, almost from the very beginning; and after the first day’s work upon it he took the entire supervision into his own hands, leaving me nothing whatever to do but merely to look on and satisfy myself by personal observation that the work was being properly done.”
“Which it was, I presume?” remarked the Admiral.
“Which it certainly was, sir,” I replied.
“Good!” said Togo. “That being the case, you are free for another service. How would you like the chance to get a little fighting ashore, by way of a change?”
“Jove!” I exclaimed, “that would be splendid, sir. Are you going to land a naval brigade anywhere?”
“Well—no,” answered the Admiral, “hardly that, I think; at least, that is not my present intention, although circumstances may possibly render it desirable, eventually. The matter stands thus,”—turning to the table where a map of the Liaotung peninsula lay unfolded upon it.
“This,”—pointing to a certain spot on the map—“is where General Oku landed, the other day, with his army. And this,”—pointing to another spot—“is where he is now. His object of course is to march south and lay siege to Port Arthur. But at this point, some two and a half miles south of Kinchau, which, as I suppose you know, is a Chinese walled city, the isthmus is only about two miles wide; and in and about the city the Russians have established themselves in force, prepared, apparently, to dispute Oku’s passage of the isthmus to the last man.
“This mountain, so prominently marked on the map, is Mount Sampson. It is more than two thousand feet in height and, as you will readily understand, dominates the entire district. Upon this mountain the Russians very strongly established themselves, scarping the heights and constructing formidable breastworks behind which to shelter themselves. Of course it was necessary for our troops to take this mountain, since, until that could be done, to pass the isthmus would be impossible. I am glad to learn that the mountain is now in our hands.
“But here, just to the south of Kinchau, is another range of hills, known as the Nanshan Heights. They form a sort of backbone to the isthmus, and occupy almost its entire width, their crests completely commanding the narrow strip of low ground on either side. On these heights, too, the Russians have very strongly established themselves; so that although Mount Sampson is in our hands, the isthmus remains impassable. The unfortunate fact, so far as we are concerned, is that General Oku has no heavy artillery with him, otherwise he would be able to shell the Nanshan Heights from Mount Sampson, and drive the Russians out. But he has only field and mountain guns, of a range insufficient for that purpose; therefore he has requisitioned help from me, and I propose to send some craft round to Kinchau Bay, to shell the Russian positions from the sea.”
“Kinchau Bay, sir?” I interrupted. “Pardon me, but the water in Kinchau Bay is so shallow, according to the chart, that I am afraid any of our craft capable of carrying guns heavy enough to be of service would have very great difficulty in approaching the land near enough to be of any real use. Why not Hand Bay, sir, on the eastern side of the isthmus?”
“For the very good reason, my dear fellow, that not only is Hand Bay mined, but it would also be impossible for us to clear it, the bay being completely commanded by works which our craft could not face for five minutes. No, it must be Kinchau Bay; there is nothing else for it,” answered the Admiral.
“That being the case,” he continued, “it is my intention to dispatch thither the Akagi, Chokai, Hei-yen, and Tsukushi to afford the assistance required by General Oku; and those ships will be accompanied by a torpedo flotilla, the duty of which will be to take soundings, lay down a line of buoys inside which the ships must not pass, and search for and clear the bay of mines, as well as to render such further assistance as may be possible to the land forces.
“I anticipate that the work required of the torpedo flotilla will be of an exceptionally arduous and hazardous character; and for that reason, Captain Swinburne, I am going to place it under your command, with the Kasanumi as your flagship. I have been keeping my eye upon you, sir, and I will take this opportunity to express my very high appreciation of your conduct. You have manifested all the dash, the fertility of resource, and the cool courage under exceedingly trying conditions which we have grown to look for as a matter of course from Englishmen; and to that you add an element of caution which I fear we Japanese have not as fully developed as we ought to have done; I therefore regard you as the fittest man I could possibly select for the service upon which I now propose to employ you. That also is the reason why I have so fully explained to you the situation at Kinchau, for it is very necessary that you should clearly understand all that may be required of you.
“We have, of course, any number of Japanese officers whose courage would be quite equal to the task I am assigning to you, but they unfortunately lack that element of caution which you possess, in proof of which it will be my painful duty to presently announce a series of terrible disasters, news of which has just reached me, and three of which, at least, I am afraid I must attribute to a lack of caution.”
“Indeed, sir,” I said; “I am exceeding sorry to hear that. Is it permissible to ask particulars?”
“Oh yes,” answered the Admiral, with a heavy sigh. “I should not have mentioned the matter to you at all, but for the fact that it must very soon have come to your ears in any case. Within three days, sir, we have lost six war vessels, while a seventh, the Kasuga, has been temporarily put out of action. And of the six lost ships, Captain, two are battleships, the Hatsuse and the Yashima!”
“The Hatsuse and the Yashima! Good heavens! sir. Is it possible?” I exclaimed.
“It is more than possible,” answered Togo, with another heavy sigh, “it is a disastrous fact. And in addition to those two ships, we have also lost the Yoshino, fortunately not one of our best fast cruisers. Oh! it is terrible, terrible! And all three disasters have occurred to-day, within a very short space of time. The news reached me by wireless in the interval between my sending for you and your arrival.
“It appears that while the Yoshino, Takasago, Chitose, Kasagi, and Kasuga were to the westward of Port Arthur this morning, just after dawn, they ran into a patch of dense fog, while steaming through which, the lookout aboard the Yoshino sighted a floating mine a short distance ahead. Thereupon the officer in charge seems to have temporarily lost his presence of mind, for instead of sheering out of the line, as it seems to me he might have done, and so avoided the mine, he instantly stopped and reversed his engines, without warning the Kasuga, which was his next astern. The inevitable result of course was that the Kasuga struck the Yoshino heavily, making such a terrible rent in her side that, in spite of collision mats, she speedily filled, capsized, and sank, drowning over two hundred of her crew. The Kasuga, badly damaged, is on her way hither, and may be expected to arrive some time to-night.
“That disaster, however, serious as it is, is nothing compared with the loss of the Hatsuse and Yashima, which occurred shortly after midday. Little did we dream, as they steamed away from here, this morning, that we should never see them again! It happened about ten miles south of Port Arthur, the two ships striking mines within a few minutes of each other. The Hatsuse appears to have struck two mines, the second of which completed her destruction, for she foundered in less than two minutes after the second explosion occurred. I understand that considerably more than half her crew have gone down with her.
“There were hopes at first that the Yashima might be saved, as collision mats were got over her damaged bows and the steam pumps were started, while she headed for here under her own steam, with the rest of the squadron in company; but the latest news is to the effect that she cannot possibly be kept afloat, and that her crew are being taken off. Well, it is the fortune of war, I suppose, and it is useless to murmur; we cannot hope to always have things go well with us, reverses will happen occasionally; and I am afraid that we have been growing just a little too careless and over-confident of late. We must take the lesson to heart and see that it does not again happen. But it is a paralysing blow for us.
“And now, to return to the matter which more immediately concerns you, Captain. I have given you the earliest possible warning of what I am going to ask you to do, in order that you may have an opportunity to think over the situation and make your plans. I want you to be ready to start at practically a moment’s notice; but I shall not dispatch the squadron until I have further news from Oku, which may arrive at any minute.”
As it happened, however, although a communication arrived from Oku the next day, it was a full week before we got our orders; for a careful reconnaissance revealed that very important preparations would be necessary before it would be possible to take Kinchau, or storm the Nanshan Heights.
Just about sunset the Shikishima, with her attendant cruisers, hove in sight, and before they were hull-up it was possible for us to distinguish that the Yashima was not among them. She had gone down off Dalny—in shallow water, fortunately—but not until every man had been safely taken out of her.
The other losses to which the Admiral had referred were torpedo-boat Number 48, and the dispatch boat Mikayo, both of which had come to grief, the one on 12th May, and the other two days later, through striking mines in Kerr Bay, some thirty miles to the north-east of Port Arthur. Torpedo-boats Numbers 46 and 48, it appeared, were engaged in sweeping for mines when the accident happened. They had already found and destroyed three mines, and had discovered a fourth, which they fired several rounds at without result. Then Number 48 imprudently approached the mine with the intention of securing it, when it exploded, blowing her in two, and killing or wounding fourteen of her crew of twenty-three.
It was two days later when the Mikayo, believing the bay to be clear, entered it to make sure. She was passing in through the channel supposed to have been cleared by our torpedo-boats, when she, too, struck a mine; there was a terrific explosion, and she went to the bottom, with eight casualties in her crew of two hundred. She was a useful little ship, having a speed of over sixteen knots when she was destroyed, although she had been known to achieve as much as twenty. She mounted two forty-sevens and ten 3-pounders, and was therefore not a very formidable fighting craft.
The story told by the Russians concerning her destruction was to the effect that she fell a victim to a mine, placed overnight, in the channel previously cleared by our boats, by a young Russian naval officer, who stole out from Port Arthur in a small steam launch, under the cover of night. Whether the story is true or not, I cannot tell, yet there is nothing very improbable about it, for it is indisputable that many of the Russians displayed as fine a courage as even the Japanese themselves.