THE STORMING OF NANSHAN HEIGHTS.
By midnight a change of weather had occurred; the wind, which at ten o’clock in the evening had been blowing harder than ever, suddenly subsided, the air grew close, almost to suffocation, and an immense black cloud settled down upon the summit of Mount Sampson, where it rested broodingly, the sure precursor of a thunderstorm, if I was any judge of weather lore.
The first troops to move consisted of a detachment of the 4th Engineers’ Battalion, who were assigned the perilous duty of blowing down the gates of Kinchau, of which there were four, corresponding to the four cardinal points of the compass. I volunteered to accompany this party, for the task which devolved upon them was one that rather appealed to me; but Oku was most emphatic in his refusal, explaining that he would more than probably require my services at daylight, or shortly afterward, to communicate with the squadron in the offing. Accordingly, I had to stand aside, somewhat unwillingly, and see them march off without me; which was perhaps just as well, for the attempt resulted in failure, and every man who participated in it was killed.
Just as the Engineers marched out of camp on their way to Kinchau, the brooding cloud on the summit of Mount Sampson began to send forth flash after flash of vivid lightning, green, blue, and sun-bright, which lighted up not only the rugged slopes of the mountain itself, but also those other and more deadly slopes of the Nanshan Heights, while peal after peal of thunder crashed and rolled and reverberated among the ravines which scored the sides of the mountain. It was a weird enough scene of itself, but its weirdness was intensified by the Russian searchlights, which were turned on with the first crash of thunder, which the Russians appeared to mistake for the roar of Japanese guns. As a matter of fact they appeared to be a bit panicky that night, for not only did they turn on the searchlights at the first sound of thunder, but the occupants of the forts and trenches on the crest and side of Nanshan Heights at once opened a terrific fire from every piece, great or small, that could be brought to bear upon the foot of the slope, which was instantly swept by a very hurricane of shrapnel and rifle bullets, while the Japanese, safely under cover, looked on and smiled.
For two hours that storm raged with such fury that the volleying peals of thunder quite outroared the booming of the Russian artillery and rifle-fire, which gradually died down as the Muscovites began to realise that there was no attack; and about two o’clock in the morning the storm passed away, still rumbling and muttering, to the eastward. But during that two hours of elemental fury, a Chinese village in the neighbourhood was set on fire and practically destroyed, while several Japanese soldiers were struck by lightning, and either killed outright or more or less seriously injured.
With the passing of the storm a thick, white mist arose from the low ground, completely blotting out everything beyond a few yards distant; and under the cover of this mist the Japanese made their dispositions for the coming battle, entirely unseen by the enemy, and probably unheard also, for it was a revelation to me to see how quietly large bodies of men could be moved when the necessity for silence had been fully impressed upon them.
As the dawn gradually brightened the sky behind the ridge of Mount Sampson, the Russians again became uneasy, and their rifles once more began to speak from the trenches, a shot here, then another shot yonder, followed by quite a spluttering here and there all along their front; but their artillery remained silent, for the fog was still so dense that nothing could be seen at which to aim.
Protected by the cover of the fog, the Japanese soldiers went to breakfast, fortifying themselves with a good meal, in preparation for the arduous labours of the day that lay before them; and I did the same, for I knew not how long it might be before I should again have the opportunity to eat or drink; also, following the example of several of the officers and men, I filled my jacket pockets with biscuit, and provided myself with a good capacious flask of cold tea, having done which, I felt ready for anything.
We had barely finished breakfast when the sun showed over the ridge of Mount Sampson; and almost immediately the thick curtain of fog, which had thus far so effectually hidden the movements of the Japanese troops from the enemy, began to lift and thin. This was the signal for the final movement prior to the storming of the Nanshan Heights; and that movement was directed against the city of Kinchau, it being known by this time that the devoted band of engineers who had been dispatched at midnight to blow in the gates of the city must have failed in their mission, otherwise some of them at least would have been back to report.
To the 1st Division was assigned the task of taking the city; and they did it in brilliant style. Marching upon the southern gate, a party of four engineers was sent forward to blow in the massive barrier, which was protected by steel plates and bands, secured by heavy steel bolts, and loopholed for musketry. The devoted quartette succeeded in placing their blasting charges and igniting the fuses under a heavy fire, not only from the loopholed gate, but also from the walls, but in so doing they were so severely wounded that after they had lighted the fuses they were unable to effect their escape, and received further severe injuries when the explosion occurred and the gate was blown off its hinges. Then the waiting 1st Division, straining like eager hounds held in leash, rushed forward through the thick, acrid smoke, with levelled bayonets, yelling “Banzai Nippon!” as they ran; and as they charged impetuously in through the south gate, the enemy went streaming as impetuously out through the west gate, about half a mile away.
Kinchau was now in the hands of the Japanese; but this was not sufficient for them, they must needs pursue the flying Russians; and they did so with such furious impetuosity that they literally drove them into the sea—that is to say, into the waters of Kinchau Bay, where the luckless Russians, to the number of five hundred, were either shot down or drowned, almost to a man, only ten of them surviving and being taken prisoners. I had a distant view of the whole affair from a knoll on the northern spur of the Nanshan Heights, where I had taken up a position which commanded a view, not only of practically the whole of the ground over which the stormers would have to pass, but also of the bay and our fleet, to which I should probably be required to signal from time to time as the fight progressed.
Meanwhile, the mist had by this time lifted, revealing a flotilla of our torpedo-boats and destroyers feeling their way into the bay and keeping a bright lookout for possible mines. Well astern of them came the Akagi and Chokai; and still farther out were the old Hei-yen and the cruiser Tsukushi, cautiously creeping in, with leadsmen perpetually sounding on either beam. The bottom, about where they were required to be, was flat, and the tide was on the ebb, the great fear of the skippers of those two craft, therefore, was that they might touch the ground and hang there, left by the tide, exposed helplessly to the fire of the Russian guns. Thanks, however, to my labours of a few days earlier, they were all able to get close enough in to open upon the Russian works at extreme range, although, until the tide should rise, they could not bring a thoroughly effective fire upon the Russian batteries and so put them out of action.
But if we had ships, so, too, had the Russians, in the shape of the gunboat Bobr and five small steamers in Hand Bay, on the side of the isthmus opposite to Kinchau Bay, the Nanshan Heights being between them, so that each was hidden from the sight of the other. The Bobr was likely to prove a very awkward customer for us; for she mounted one 9-inch and one 6-inch gun, which, although they were a long way from being up-to-date, were still quite good enough to out-range the Japanese field-guns and severely pepper our left, which occupied the ground at the head of Hand Bay. The steamers which accompanied her were, our spies discovered, fitted up expressly for the purpose of quickly ferrying troops across from one side of Hand Bay to the other, according as they might be wanted, instead of being obliged to march round the head of the bay in the face of our troops. Thus the Russians were in a position to either harass our left flank and rear, or to rush reinforcements across the head of the bay—a distance of about a mile—as circumstances might require.
The Bohr began the day’s proceedings by opening fire with her 9-inch gun upon the artillery of our 3rd Division, which had taken up a position upon the lower slopes of Mount Sampson, from which it could reach the Russian batteries established upon the crest of the Nanshan Heights. The gunboat’s fire did very little mischief, but it seemed to be regarded by both sides as a signal to begin the fight, for at once our batteries got to work, their shells dropping with most beautiful precision upon the guns and trenches of the Russians. I was so stationed that I had a most excellent view of practically the entire scene of operations, and no sooner did our artillery open fire than the Russian batteries replied with a crash that seemed to make the very air quiver.
A land battle is a very different spectacle from a sea battle, in this respect: that, in the latter, a shell either hits or misses its mark, and if it misses there is a splash or two and that ends the matter, so far as that particular shell is concerned. But ashore, every shell, whether or not it finds its mark, hits something, though it be only the ground, and immediately there is a violent explosion, a flash of fire, a great cloud of smoke, and a violent scattering of dust, clods of earth, and stones—if nothing worse. Thus, I must confess that for a few seconds I was perfectly amazed to see the slopes of Mount Sampson, on the one hand, where our artillery was placed, and the Nanshan Heights, on the other, where were situated the Russian batteries, suddenly burst into great jets of flame, clouds of smoke, and flying débris, as the shells showered down upon them. The explosions of shrapnel were easily distinguished from those of common shell, for the former almost invariably burst in the air, the smoke from the explosions standing out against the background of sky or hill like tufts of cotton-wool that had suddenly sprung into existence from nowhere.
Very shortly after the artillery duel began, I saw the Japanese infantry moving out to storm the Nanshan Heights, and I smiled to myself at the acuteness of their leaders, for the men began their advance in such open formation that a shrapnel shell seldom succeeded in accounting for more than one man, and often enough it failed to do even that. Of course they were seen from the trenches, and a terrific rifle-fire was opened upon them, but for the same reason it was very ineffective—at the outset at least, for a rifleman had to be a crack shot to bowl over his man at a distance of close upon a mile. And if one wished to get his man, he had to aim at him, and correctly judge the distance too. This, of course, was at the beginning of the attack; later on, matters became a good deal more favourable for the defenders and correspondingly adverse to the attacking force.
I was interestedly watching the development of the attack upon the heights, when a galloper dashed up to me with a message from the General requesting me to signal our ships in the offing to concentrate their fire upon the Nanshan ridge; and so smart were our men, and so keen a lookout were they maintaining aboard our ships, that within three minutes of the receipt by me of the order, their 10-inch, 5-inch, and 6-inch shells were dropping all along the ridge, busily searching it for the Russian batteries, the positions of which, unfortunately, could not be seen from the western side.
For the next half-hour I was kept incessantly employed in signalling our fleet, directing their fire; but the shoal water of Kinchau Bay was all against us, and although our ships drew in so close that they touched the ground several times, they were still too far off to actually silence the Russian batteries, although they contrived to give them a very severe punishing and, to some extent, distract their attention from the stormers. Unfortunately, they could only muster six heavy guns between them, and these, at the extreme range at which they were obliged to fire, were not nearly enough, though they certainly helped.
When at length I was once more free to turn my attention to what was happening on the eastern side of the heights, I saw that our foremost line of skirmishers had reached a spot about a mile distant from the first Russian defences, consisting of a perfect maze of wire entanglements, and were signalling back to the main body. Almost immediately a detachment of Cossacks appeared, advancing at a gallop toward the signallers, from the direction of Linshiatun, a village on the shore of Sunk Bay, and as the horsemen appeared every Japanese soldier vanished, as if by magic, having flung himself down upon the ground and taken cover. On swept the Cossacks, yelling, lashing their horses with their whips, and brandishing their long lances. Suddenly, down went a horse and rider, the next instant a Cossack flung up his arms and collapsed inert upon his horse’s neck, then another reeled and fell, then two or three went down almost at the same instant, then half a dozen. And the curious thing about it was that there was nothing, no sudden spurt of flame, no smoke wreath, no crack of a rifle, to account for these casualties. That is to say, I could neither see nor hear anything; but the fact was that those Cossacks were going down before the calm, deliberate rifle-fire of the concealed Japanese infantry-men. Then a flash from one of the field-guns of our 3rd Division caught my eye, and before the sharp bark of it reached my ear, a white tuft of cotton-wool-like smoke suddenly appeared in the air above the galloping Cossacks, and more of them went down. Another flash, and another, and another, more tufts of cotton-wool leaping into view, tremendous disorder and confusion among the Cossacks, men and horses falling right and left, and then the survivors suddenly wheeled outward and galloped back at headlong speed, leaving behind them a mangled heap of men and horses, the greater number dead, but here and there a prostrate, kicking horse might be seen, or a wounded Cossack crawling slowly and painfully away from the scene of carnage.
The flight of the Cossacks was the signal for the resumption of the advance by the Japanese, whose skirmishers reappeared, still in very open formation, a man here and a man there showing for a few seconds as, in a crouching attitude, he rose to his feet, scurried forward a few yards, and then again took cover, while the fire of the Russian guns swept the ground over which he was passing. As yet, however, there appeared to be very few casualties among our men; here and there I noticed a prostrate form lying motionless, while others crept up and scuttled past him; he had been found by a shrapnel shell, and his share of the work was done; but even shrapnel cannot do much harm if the formation is kept sufficiently open. And as man after man pushed forward, others crept out, following, until the whole of the ground between our lines and the base of the heights was dotted with Japanese infantry-men creeping ever closer up to the first line of the Russian defence, the terrible maze of barbed wire entanglements.
Meanwhile, the whole of the Japanese field artillery, as well as that of our ships, was concentrating its fire upon the crest of the heights, covering the advance of the stormers; and now my attention was once more diverted from that advance by the necessity for me to signal directions to the fleet. And now it was that the full value of my previous labours began to be manifested; for I had but to signal the ships to direct their fire upon such and such a point—wherever, in fact, a Russian battery was proving especially troublesome—and all that the gun-layers had to do was to refer to the maps with which I had supplied them, and they were at once informed of the exact range of that point, with the result that a hail of shells instantly began to fall upon that particular battery with the most deadly precision. Thus, after a little while, every battery on the heights became in turn the focus of a terrific crossfire from the ships and the field batteries, the effect of which soon became manifest in the silencing of several of the Russian guns, either by dismounting, or, as we afterwards discovered, by the complete destruction of the men working them.
With the guns of our fleet playing such havoc among the ten forts which crowned the heights, it now became possible for our field artillery to turn its attention upon the trenches, tier after tier of which lined the eastern slope of the heights, up which our stormers would have to pass. Those trenches were quite formidable works, roofed over with timber and earth to protect the occupants from artillery fire, and loopholed for rifle-fire; yet, thanks again to my labours of the previous day in determining the exact range of them, our guns were able to search them from end to end, blowing the parapets to dust and matchwood, and hurling the wreckage among the gunners who were working the Russian quick-firers and machine-guns, many of whom were thus killed or wounded. The carnage must have been—indeed was, as we later saw for ourselves—frightful, yet the Russians maintained a most gallant defence, and clung to their trenches with unflinching determination. A lucky shell from one of our field-guns fell upon and exploded one of the many Russian mines which were scattered pretty thickly over the hillside, and the explosion blew a big gap in one of the lines of wire entanglements, a circumstance which without doubt resulted subsequently in the saving of many lives.
Hour after hour the artillery duel proceeded, our gunners doing their utmost to cover the slow advance of the stormers, while the Russian artillery systematically swept with a crossfire every inch of the ground which our men would have to traverse. The crash of the artillery was continuous and most distracting, and the effect was intensified by the incessant scream of the shells and the sharp thud as they burst, interspersed with the everlasting hammering of the machine-guns and quick-firers; Nanshan was ablaze with the fire of the Russian guns and the bursting of our shells, and the entire hill was enwrapped in fantastically whirling wreaths of smoke which were every moment rent violently asunder by the explosion of bursting shells.
Thus far I had occupied my position undisturbed, but about mid-morning certain Russian sharpshooters chanced to detect me and my assistant in the act of signalling to our ships, and they at once favoured me with their undivided attentions, to such purpose that I was compelled to beat a hasty retreat. The change of position which I was compelled to make was, however, advantageous rather than otherwise, for I found a perfectly safe spot behind two tall boulders standing close together, which, while effectually shielding me from the Russian bullets, still enabled me to see all that was happening.
Yet, that “all” might be summed up in a very few words—just incessant flashes of fire, great volumes of smoke, and, interspersed with the smoke, patches of flying débris. Very little else. No great masses of troops advancing in serried lines, column after column, with colours proudly flying, and burnished bayonets glistening in the sun; none of the old-fashioned pomp and circumstance of war when the opposing armies marched toward each other with bands playing, discharged their muskets when they were near enough to see the whites of their opponents’ eyes, and then charged with fixed bayonets, fighting it out hand to hand. That sort of battle went out of fashion with the introduction of the breech-loading rifle and the machine-gun; and now, with between fifty and sixty thousand men in action, there were periods when not a solitary human being could be seen. And when any did appear, which was only at intervals, they were but few in number—just a man here and a man there dotted about sparsely over a large area of ground, visible for perhaps half a dozen seconds, and then lost again, hidden behind cover of some sort.
It was getting well on toward noon when a message reached me from the General to the effect that two batteries of Russian quick-fire field-guns had been discovered on the summit of Nan-kwang-ling—a hill some eight hundred feet high, about a mile to the westward of the Nanshan Heights—and requesting me to signal our ships in the bay to give their whole attention to those two batteries. Unfortunately for us, the tide in the bay was now on the ebb, and the Hei-yen and Tsukushi were obliged to haul off to avoid grounding; but the Akagi and Chokai responded nobly to the call, creeping in until they actually felt the ground, and enveloping Nan-kwang-ling knoll in flame and smoke.
I had scarcely finished signalling to the ships when a stir on the plain immediately below me indicated that the General considered the artillery “preparation” complete, and that the actual storming of the Russian position was now to be attempted. A battalion of our 1st Division, situated in the Japanese centre, suddenly deployed into the open, and commenced its advance by making a series of short rushes through some fields of green barley, on the opposite side of the road from Kinchau to Linshiatun, dashing forward a few yards, and then, as the machine-guns and rifles in the Russian trenches were turned upon them, sinking from view into the barley, through which they crept on hands and knees until the whistle of the leader or the call of a bugle gave the signal for another dash. The heroism of those devoted Japanese infantry was something to send a thrill through the heart of a man; no sooner did they show than the whole of the ground which they occupied and that in front of them was swept by a devastating crossfire from the whole line of the Russian trenches, which beat down the young barley as a heavy shower of rain might level it. To me, unaccustomed to this style of fighting, it looked as though nothing might venture upon that shot-swept zone and live; yet time after time the intrepid Japanese rose to their feet and, crouching low, made yet another short rush forward, though with sadly diminished numbers. The uproar was deafening; the crash of the heavy guns upon the crest of the heights and from Fort Hoshangtao, near Linshiatun, which now joined in the fray, mingled with the hammer-like thudding of the machine-guns and the continuous rolling crackle of rifle-fire from the trenches, was frightful. And then, as though this were not enough, the Russian gunboat Bohr turned her 9-inch guns upon the advancing Japanese and, quickly getting the range, began to drop shells right among them. The slaughter, one understood, must be awful; yet, prepared as I was in a measure for what followed, I stood aghast when finally, out of that whole battalion, a mere handful of men, numbering perhaps some fifty or sixty, emerged from the growing barley and made a staggering rush toward the first line of wire entanglements, which they at once proceeded to attack with nippers, fully exposed all the while to the concentrated fire of the whole body of defenders. It was a forlorn hope of the most desperate description, and one after another the gallant fellows collapsed and died, pierced by innumerable bullets. The first assault had resulted in failure, and those who took part in it were wiped out!
And now it was that the Russians deemed the moment suitable for a counter-demonstration. The Bohr, doubtless in obedience to some signal from the shore, steamed up toward the head of Hand Bay as far as the shoaling water would permit, the five steamers loaded with troops closely following her and making as though it was their intention to land the troops upon a small promontory jutting out into the head of the bay. This was a distinct menace to the Japanese left, and although it might be merely a demonstration, it was imperative to meet it, or it might develop into a serious and most embarrassing attack; therefore, badly as it could be spared from the task of shelling the heights and the Russian trenches, a battery of our field-guns placed on the south-western slope of Mount Sampson was turned upon the gunboat and her accompanying flotilla of steamers, the latter being compelled to hastily retire, while several of our shells struck the Bohr, and temporarily silenced her fire. Judging from appearances generally, the gunboat appeared to have been rather severely punished; and about a quarter of an hour later she slowly retired to her former position, farther down the bay, and re-opened her fire, although with considerably less vigour than before.
The fire from Fort Hoshangtao, occupying the promontory which separates Sunk Bay from Hand Bay, was a most galling factor in the fight, for its guns had a range which enabled them to drop their heavy shells right upon our left and centre, while it was out of range of our own guns. Therefore our men had to stand motionless, hour after hour, and endure the pitiless shelling of the Russian gunners, with the bitter knowledge that to silence the fort was quite out of our power.
The utter annihilation of the first battalion of stormers warned General Oku that to advance comparatively small parties was but to sacrifice them uselessly, while it also indicated that the task of artillery “preparation” had been by no means as complete as he had judged it to be; he therefore sedulously continued the work of preparation all through the afternoon until five o’clock, when a message from the artillery commander warned him that the crisis was at hand. The message was to the effect that he had fired away practically his entire supply of ammunition, only his reserve rounds remaining. What was he to do?
Situated as I was at a distance of more than two miles from headquarters, upon an outlying spur of the Nanshan Heights, and quite alone, save for the companionship of a solitary assistant signaller, with only occasional curt orders from the General in reference to the signals which he wished me to transmit to our ships in the offing, I was naturally ignorant as to the critical pass at which we had arrived, and could only draw my conclusions from what I actually saw happening. What occurred at staff headquarters during this momentous day, and especially at this momentous hour, I did not learn until several hours later, but, so far as is possible, I propose to relate events in their chronological order, that the proper continuity of my narrative may be maintained; I will therefore briefly state here that when the General received the artillery commander’s message that his ammunition was practically exhausted, he summoned a few of his principal officers, and held a brief council of war. What was to be done, under the circumstances? It was now five o’clock in the afternoon, and the bringing up of further supplies of ammunition would involve a delay of at least two hours, and probably more, while to suspend all action meanwhile would practically be to defer the assault until the next day. Certain of the officers present strongly advocated this postponement, giving it as their opinion that to attempt to storm the heights unsupported by adequate gun-fire was merely to make a useless sacrifice of whole brigades of sorely needed men; one or two officers, indeed, ventured to express their conviction that the heights were impregnable.
The discussion lasted about a quarter of an hour, at the end of which time General Oku, who had been listening but saying nothing, abruptly broke up the council by announcing his determination to risk everything upon a single cast of the die; the gunners were to expend their reserve rounds of ammunition upon a slow, carefully considered, deadly bombardment of the heights, while the entire infantry force was to move forward simultaneously to the assault. The officers who had ventured to advise delay shook their heads doubtfully, but at once proceeded to their stations, fully prepared to loyally support the General to their last breath.
When the news of the General’s decision was communicated to the troops, it was only with the utmost difficulty that they could be restrained from cheering, and so putting the Russians on the qui vive, although they had been warned beforehand to maintain strict silence.
The first step in the proceedings was for the officers commanding the various regiments to call for volunteers prepared to undertake the task of preceding the main body of the stormers in order to cut a way through the lines of wire entanglements, and to sever the electric cables connecting the innumerable ground mines with the forts. Volunteers were invited to step six paces to the front, and in the majority of cases the entire regiment appealed to advanced six paces with the precision and promptitude of a parade evolution. Under such circumstances there was, of course, but one thing to be done, and that was for each captain to choose a certain number of men—those he considered best adapted for the work—and detail them for the duty.
These men, a veritable Forlorn Hope, discarding knapsacks, greatcoats, everything in the shape of impedimenta, even their weapons, and armed only with a stout pair of wire-cutting nippers, dashed out of the ranks like unleashed greyhounds at the word of command, and with a great shout of “Banzai Nippon!” went running and leaping through the fields of young barley, each eager to outdistance all the others. And as they went, the crash of their own and the enemy’s artillery, the fire of which had been languishing, burst forth afresh, mingled with the hammering of machine-guns and the rolling volleys of rifle-fire. In a moment the whole of the ground over which the pioneers would have to pass was being swept by a crossfire of lead in which it seemed impossible that anything could live. Man after man was seen to go down, yet still his comrades pressed on, in ever-diminishing numbers, until at length a mere handful staggered up to the first line of wire entanglements, and there fell, riddled with bullets, their task unaccomplished.
But not for a moment did their fate discourage those who were detailed to follow them. Like racers they dashed forward, in widely extended order, now leaping high in the air and anon crouching almost double in a vain effort to dodge that terrible inexorable hail of bullets, and again man after man went crashing to the ground while other panting, gasping, breathless men staggered and stumbled past the prostrate figures, intent upon one purpose only, to reach that line of wire and sever a few of the entanglements before yielding up their lives. And a few of them actually contrived to accomplish their purpose before they died, although the damage which they were able to do was quite incommensurate with the frightful sacrifice of life which it cost.
In accordance with Oku’s plan, the main body of the stormers followed closely upon the heels of the volunteer wire-cutters. The 1st Division led the way, dashing forward and losing heavily, until they arrived within a few yards of the foremost line of Russian trenches, and here they were brought to a standstill by the wire entanglements, while the Russian rifle and machine-gun-fire played upon them pitilessly, mowing them down in heaps. In desperation some of them seized the firmly rooted posts to which the wires were attached and strove to root them up by main force, while others placed the muzzles of their rifles against the wires and, pulling the trigger, severed them in that way. Some attempted to climb over the wire, others to creep through; but where one succeeded, twenty became entangled and were shot dead before they could clear themselves. Those, however, who contrived to get through at once gave their attention to the mines, the positions of which were clearly indicated by the settlement of the ground caused by the rain of the preceding night, and thus it became possible to sever several of the electric cables which connected them with the forts.
But those awful entanglements still held up the main body of the stormers, keeping them fully exposed to a murderous fire from the trenches as they desperately strove to break through, and things were beginning to look very bad indeed for our side when I chanced to notice that the Russian lines on their left were weak, the bulk of the men having been rushed toward the centre, where the attack was being most fiercely pressed. In an instant I recognised that here was our opportunity, our only opportunity perhaps, to retrieve the fortune of the day. Turning to my companion, I said:
“I dare not leave my post here, for at any moment I may receive a message to be signalled to our ships. But I can—I will —manage single-handed for the next quarter of an hour or so if you are game to sprint across the open to carry a message from me to General Ogawa. You will find him somewhere yonder, in command of the 4th Division; and if you run hard you can cover the distance in five minutes. Are you game to try it?”
“I am honourably game, illustrious captain,” replied the man, standing at the salute.
“Good!” I said. “Then make your way as quickly as possible to General Ogawa, and when you have found him, say you come from me, Captain Swinburne. Explain to him where I am posted, and tell him that from here I can see that the Russian left has been so greatly weakened that a surprise attack on his part would certainly turn it, and thus very materially help the frontal attack. Tell him it will be necessary for him to lead his troops along the shore of the bay in that direction,”—pointing; “say that it may even be necessary for his troops to enter the water and wade for some distance, since the tide is rising; but that if he will do that, I am certain he can retrieve the day. You understand? Then, go!”
With a salute, the man swung round upon his heels and sprang away down the hill, running like a startled hare, and in less than five minutes I saw him rush into the lines of the 4th Division. Then, feeling pretty confident that Ogawa would recognise the opportunity and seize it, I snatched up the signal flags that my assistant had dropped and proceeded to call up the fleet. After calling for about a minute, I dropped the flags and placed my glasses to my eyes. It was all right, they were keeping a bright lookout afloat, and the Tsukushi was waiting to receive my message. I therefore at once proceeded to signal them to be ready to support the anticipated movement with their gun-fire; and by the time that I had done, the men of the 19th Brigade were proceeding at something a bit faster than the “double” toward the shore, while every gun in the squadron opened in their support. As I had anticipated, the troops were obliged to actually enter the waters of the bay, which in some places rose breast-high; but they pushed through, losing rather heavily, and hurled themselves upon the Russian flank and rear, while the others, getting an inkling of what was happening from the sounds of heavy firing on the other side of the hill, pressed home the frontal attack, thus keeping the Russian main body busily engaged.
With yells of “Banzai! Banzai Nippon!” the men of the 19th Brigade fought their way forward, foot by foot, using rifle and bayonet with such furious energy that suddenly the Russians broke and fled before them, and with howls of exultation the victorious Japanese scrambled forward and upward until their figures became visible to their comrades below, still fighting desperately in the effort to break through the Russian lines. Thirty engineers of the victorious 4th Division were now detailed to cut a path through the wire entanglements that still protected the Russian trenches; and they did it, lying flat upon the ground without attempting to raise their heads. Twenty-two out of the thirty were killed in the accomplishment of the task, but a way was made, and through it poured Ogawa’s gallant brigade, the 8th Regiment taking the lead, and the next moment they were in the Russian trenches, fighting desperately, hand to hand, the Japanese determined to drive out the Russians, and the Russians equally determined to hold their ground at all costs.
And now the stormers of the 1st and 3rd Divisions, seeing the success of their comrades, were stung into the making of a further effort, and, hurling themselves bodily upon the entanglements, actually broke them down by sheer physical force, although hundreds were horribly mangled in the process, and despite the awful fire from rifles and machine-guns that mowed through them, up they swept irresistibly until, with deafening yells of “Banzai!” they joined their victorious comrades on the crest and planted the banner of Japan upon the topmost height of Nanshan. For a few brief, breathless minutes the members of the staff, watching from below, beheld the glint and ruddy flash of bayonets in the light of the setting sun as the Russians made a last desperate effort to hold their ground; but the Japanese infantry, intoxicated with their success in the face of stupendous difficulties, would take no denial: they had conquered wire entanglements, braved machine-gun-fire, and now mere flesh and blood was as powerless to stop them as a thread is to stop a battleship. The Russians simply had to fly or die; and they chose the former alternative, retreating in disorder upon Nankwang-ling, while the Japanese, whose turn it was now to take revenge for the losses so pitilessly inflicted upon them all through the hours of that terrible day, rained shot and shell without mercy upon the flying foe.
The weather had been improving ever since morning, and now, as the firing gradually died down, the sun sank into the waters of the Gulf of Liaotung in a blaze of purple and golden splendour. As the palpitant edge of his glowing upper rim vanished beneath the long level line of the western horizon, the firing on both sides suddenly ceased altogether, and a great, solemn hush fell upon the scene, that was positively awe-inspiring after the continuous, deafening roar all day of the cannonade, and the crash of bursting shells. And then, as the ear accustomed itself to that sudden silence, it became aware of a low but terrible sound breaking it, the moaning of hundreds of mangled, suffering, and dying men, the ghastly fruits of that ferocious struggle for the possession of a few barren acres of rough, hilly country.
Suddenly the fast-gathering dusk of evening became illuminated; the station buildings in the little village of To-fang-shan were ablaze, doubtless purposely set on fire by the Russians to hinder possible pursuit—and were soon a mass of flame, the flickering light from which luridly illuminated the scored and gashed sides of the neighbouring hills. Finally, with a terrific roar, a Russian magazine exploded, sending up a great column of flame and smoke; and as the reverberations of the explosion rumbled and echoed again and again until they finally died away among the gorges and ravines of the surrounding elevations, silence again sank upon the scene, the victorious Japanese being so utterly exhausted by their Herculean labours that pursuit of the flying Russians became impossible, the conquerors flinging themselves down on the positions which they had gained, and instantly sinking into a kind of lethargy, their fatigue being so great that they were unable to remain awake long enough to partake of the food that was quickly prepared for them.