THE ADVANCE ON LIAO-YANG.
A GENERAL ACTION.
By the light of the moon we mounted our horses and took the road
once more to Mou-tien-ling. The valley lay before us folded in the
death-like slumber that precedes the dawn. Against the opalescent sky
the mountains were dark shadows, and in the pearly mist willow and
birch took the feathery shape of palm. There was a brooding expectancy
about the scene that worked strongly on the imagination. Our mood was
attuned to the mystery of the night and we rode on in silence. Twelve
hours before we were looking across the graves of wasted days. For a
whole month we had camped in the squalid hamlet of Lien-chen-kwan and
counted ourselves among its oldest habitants. When the Japanese army
halts it halts with an air of permanence. The place is swept, houses
are cleaned, bridges are built, roads made and repaired, store houses
erected, trenches dug and earthworks constructed. You feel that
you are settled for life, and are beginning to reconcile yourself to
irresistable fate when, presto! the order comes to march.
[Illustration: Captured Russian Guns.]
“Military _attachés_ and foreign correspondents will assemble at
Head-Quarters at three o’clock in the morning.” Nothing more was said,
but we knew that it meant another step in our deliberate progress to
Liao-yang. How changed was the scene from that of two weeks before.
Then the road swarmed with armed men hurrying to the front; horses and
guns swept onward in a roaring cataract and the glowing hills echoed
with the thunders of war. Now we were a solitary troop of horsemen
riding through a deserted valley, whither and with what purpose we knew
not. Yet the breathless quiet and the dimness of the enfolding mist
were filled with vague portents that touched deeper chords than those
vibrated by the tumult of battle. We were conscious of the brooding
presence of some mighty force which would appear and change earth and
sky like a tornado, leaving death and destruction in its path.
For many days the storm clouds had been gathering on the Northern and
Western horizons. Port Arthur was struggling in a deadly embrace; the
army of the Peninsula was tightening its grip upon the enemy, and we
were slowly drawing near to the door through which he must escape. In
spite of lyrical outbursts on the courage and patriotism of the Russian
soldier, despite plans devised by idle hands in distant countries,
in face of hypotheses about what must happen in this and that
circumstance, there was only one course open to General Kuropatkin.
He must get away as quickly as possible from a situation that seemed
without meaning and must end in disaster. If he could not make up his
mind to escape, then the Japanese must help him. In their own practical
and decisive manner they must show the Russian commander how imminent
was the danger menacing his front and flank and rear, on the road
between Hai-cheng and Liao-yang. With that object--and incidentally in
the hope of saving the Russians from the necessity of continuing an
apparently hopeless contest--the order was given for a general attack
on Sunday the 31st of July.
Military historians are agreed that of all operations the most
difficult and hazardous is that which demands simultaneous action by
isolated and widely separated bodies of troops. The Japanese, however,
are of opinion that the axioms of war are not axioms till they have
been proved upon their own persons. Accordingly, with the aid of the
telegraph and the telephone, and with confidence born of an unbroken
series of victories, they made this concerted attack at three points
on a front of sixty miles and added another triumph to their record.
The force moving from the South met with no opposition and entered
Hai-cheng, while the army landed at Takushan, and operating between
the armies of the Peninsula and the East struck the enemy’s retreating
flank and left its mark upon it.
General Kuroki’s part in these operations was more difficult. In front
of him was a force superior to his own, with guns of greater range
and calibre, strongly entrenched in mountainous country, directed by
General Kuropatkin himself, and animated by the knowledge that upon its
valour and determination rested the safe deliverance of the Russian
army in Manchuria. To those who judge the strength of armies by their
masses the task assigned to the First Army seemed hazardous. But,
as in mechanics, the Japanese calculate the strength or momentum of
their armies by their mass multiplied by their velocity--that is by
the spirit of the troops and their desire to fight. This factor is of
greater value than battalions, for men who are as eager to fight as the
Japanese, always put themselves in the most advantageous position for
fighting. It was therefore without any fear of the issue that General
Kuroki made his preparations for the attack.
The position of the enemy on the last day of July extended over a
distance of twenty-seven miles. Their left flank was at Yu-shu-ling,
East of Liao-yang, facing Chaotoa, which was wrested from them on
July 19th; their centre was at Tien-shu-tien, opposite Mou-tien-ling
and their right wing at Yan-shu-ling, five miles to the South-west
of the Pass. The whole region occupied by the Russians was like a
field over which a gigantic plough had passed, leaving mountainous
furrows with abrupt slopes and narrow valleys. The Japanese right was
at Chaotoa, twenty miles from Mou-tien-ling, and its orders were to
capture Yu-shu-ling; the left at Han-cha-put-su, seven miles South-west
of Mou-tien-ling, was to take Yan-shu-ling, while the centre at
Mou-tien-ling was to engage the enemy at Tien-shu-tien with a view to
assist the flanking movements. The general direction of these combined
attacks was toward Liao-yang, upon which the Russians were reported to
be retiring from Hai-cheng.
Nature must have some of the martial spirit in her, for she has erected
many ramparts in Manchuria. Yu-shu-ling is one of them. Situated on the
Sai, a broad deep river, with a tributary stream flowing in front, and
flanked by precipieces, Yu-shu-ling seemed an impregnable position.
Early on Sunday morning a detachment from our right was sent to meet
the enemy, who were reported to be advancing in force down the Mukden
road. The Russians had doubtless heard rumours of our movement, and
were preparing to deliver a counter attack on our flank, about which
two thousand of their cavalry and infantry were hovering. This attack
was speedily repulsed, and the main body of the Japanese, dividing
into two, moved Westward, driving in the outposts. At daybreak they
found themselves in front of the main body of the Russians posted on
the heights to the West of Yu-shu-ling. The enemy’s line faced East,
and two thousand mètres before it was a strong post. Recognising that
a frontal attack was impracticable, the Japanese contented themselves
with holding the Russian front. Meanwhile the second force, moving
from Chau-to-po-su, South of Chau-tow, made its way toward Penlin, a
Pass in the range between Chau-tow and Yu-shu-ling. At Penlin were two
Russian regiments whom the Japanese drove out after a sharp contest. So
far the fighting had been devoid of unusual incident, and neither side
appeared to have gained any material advantage. But a serious disaster
was threatening the enemy; one of those unexpected blows that shake the
nerves of men and leave them powerless against fate.
To the assistance of our right wing and to make some appearance of
contact with the centre, there had been despatched from Gebato,
North-east of Mou-tien-ling, a small force of infantry. Marching
North-west they came to the Pass of Cho-bai-rai which is South of
Penlin. At that moment three Russian battalions appeared, moving up the
slopes of the Pass. Each side saw at a glance that whoever gained the
Pass held the other in the hollow of his hand. The Japanese won the
race, and seizing the crest poured volley after volley into the broken
ranks of the enemy.
The attack on our left flank was not so successful. The enemy occupied
a range of heights West and South of Mou-tien-ling. Their right
flank was near Sui-cha-pu-zo facing South, their right near To-wan
fronting East, and their centre overlooked the cornfields South of
Mou-tien-ling. Upon these lofty and steep hills they had posted
forty-four field guns, eighteen on the left, sixteen in the centre and
ten on the right. Miles of roads had been made up the mountain sides
and along the summits; gun emplacements had been constructed to sweep
the valley, to search the Pass and to command the approach from the
South-east, and the hills were lined with tiers of trenches carefully
hidden under green branches.
Against this formidable array of quick firing guns which carry a shell
weighing fifteen pounds, our left flank had five batteries of field
guns and one battery of mountain guns firing eleven pound shells. But,
owing to the difficult character of the country, they were unable to
bring into action more than the mountain battery and thirteen field
guns. Scouting parties had been sent out on the previous night to
find positions for the artillery, and through the dark hours gunners
and sappers aided by three battalions of infantry were making and
repairing roads and constructing emplacements. Their labours, however,
could not overcome the natural obstacles, and the use of double teams
failed to get all the guns into position. Soon after midnight on July
30th, a detachment was sent to threaten the right rear of the enemy,
and succeeded in approaching the position despite a counter attack
which was repulsed with loss. At one o’clock in the morning began the
general advance of our left, and at seven both infantry and artillery
were engaged. The movement was mainly directed against the right flank
upon which our guns made no impression, although before noon nine guns
had fired a thousand shells at a range of 3,765 yards. Ammunition
ran short, for it was impossible to get the wagons up the slopes and
the shells had to be carried by hand. The Russian gunners displayed
unwonted skill and energy; their aim was often deadly in its accuracy
and drove our men to cover time after time; their guns were served with
wonderful rapidity and their superior weight and range were only too
apparent.
Nor did the infantry of the left fare much better. They were called
upon to carry by assault a position from which most troops would have
recoiled. For the first time the Russian trenches were invisible to
the naked eye. Evidently they had taken counsel from disaster and have
adopted that concealment which is the first principle of war with
repeating rifles and smokeless powder. Near Sui-cha-pu-zo, almost at
the centre of the enemy’s right flank, one regiment was checked before
eight o’clock, and the first and second officers in command were
wounded. Another regiment fought hard until eleven o’clock, and three
companies, having lost their commanders, succeeded in establishing
themselves within two thousand mètres of the enemy. Here they remained,
unable to advance in face of the heavy rifle and artillery fire. At
noon our left was held in check and the enemy remained secure in all
their positions about Yans-huling.
It was clear that if we were to escape from this _impasse_ our
centre must emerge from the passive _rôle_ assigned to it in the
plan of operations. Since dawn we had watched for signs of activity
in the Pass. Hitherto the only part we had taken in the advance was
to seize an eminence on the Western front. At eleven o’clock on the
night of the 30th, a company of infantry had dislodged the enemy from
this position. The hill was steep and the Russians defended themselves
with stones. An avalanche of rocks swept the assailants off their feet
and did serious damage. The commander of the company was wounded as he
led his men up the slope: several were killed and more were severely
disabled--in all the Japanese had twenty-one casualties before they
drove the enemy from the hill at one o’clock in the morning.
Hour after hour went by and from Mou-tien-ling came no sign of the
presence of an army. The sun stole slowly above the horizon, scattering
the morning mist and flooding the green slopes with intense light. Away
in the West, beyond the white tower that rose like a lighthouse from
a low spur on the Pekin road, were small parties of Russian horsemen.
Their white tunics were distinctly visible and distinguished them from
a few Chinese who flitted about the entrance to the Pass as though
uncertain on which side lay safety.
From Mou-tien-ling the Pekin road runs West past the white tower to the
village of To-wan and divided the Russian position. At right angles
to it, before you come to the tower, is another road, bounded on the
East by the steep slope of the Pass and on the West by a range of lofty
hills. Between these boundaries stretches a broad cultivated valley
watered by a shallow stream, on the West bank of which is situated the
village of Tien-shu-tien. In these hills lay the enemy strongly
entrenched and protected by two gun positions, one of which was between
two conical peaks on a razor-like ridge flanked by a small wood.
[Illustration: Japanese Funeral Service.]
[Illustration: The Tower at To-wan.]
Six batteries were on our front--four on the ridge overlooking the
valley and the village of Tien-shu-tien, and two on the slope to the
south of the Pass commanding the Pekin road and the hills on either
side. On the slopes behind the guns reclined soldiers waiting the order
to rise and advance. The artillery duel on our left began at seven
o’clock, and continued with varying degrees of intensity until noon.
For four hours the hills and valleys re-echoed with the long rolling
thunder of guns; ridge and slope gave forth clouds of white and brown
smoke as if they had suddenly become active volcanoes; and from the
blue sky descended tiny white clouds with hearts of flame from which
dated a hail of lead. Now and then you could hear the music of the
shrapnel like the swish of a mighty rod across the heavens, dying away
to the lazy humming of bees. It is fascinating music, though, like the
song of the Syren, deadly. To the mere observer, however experienced,
an artillery duel affords ample scope for speculation. When a hundred
guns are in action over a wide front no eye and no ear can judge either
the direction or the result with any approach to certainty. More than
one of the Russian gun positions remained undiscovered throughout the
day, and our own gun position South of the Pass never drew a shot from
the enemy.
Shortly after noon the centre burst into activity. The four batteries
on the ridge to our right opened with energy upon the enemy’s position
above Tien-shu-tien, while the two batteries on our left turned their
attention to the hills South of Tow-an. New life had come into the
fight, and through the burning air screamed a hundred shells. The
ridge in front of the Pass smoked and flamed, while the cone-like
peaks beyond the valley seemed to spring from a burning lake. Again
the Russian gunners displayed their skill, and the range of their
artillery. Into the batteries on our right burst shell upon shell,
scattering the gunners and sending the infantry to closer cover down
the slope. The colonel in command of our artillery was slightly
wounded, and several men were killed and disabled. In vain our gunners
strove to locate some of the hidden batteries that were most active,
and in vain they endeavoured to silence those which were unmasked.
The enemy’s guns were skilfully posted, and the gunners had taken the
precaution to peel some of the trees and to measure the ranges on our
front. Hence the accuracy with which they searched our positions,
though they did no damage to the guns and put none out of action.
I must now return to our left wing, where the result of this activity
in the centre was anxiously awaited. The infantry had been checked all
along the line, though the men stuck bravely to their positions in
front of the hidden trenches, and kept well under cover.
At noon the order was given for our left to advance, and after a heroic
effort one regiment reached the foot of a wooded hill on which the
enemy had three tiers of trenches. Beyond this point they could not go,
for the slope was swept with a sheet of lead. Here they lay panting
from their great exertions, and from the heat of the day. The sun beat
down upon them with pitiless intensity; the ground was like an oven;
the air vibrated with waves of heat like a mirage in the desert. Many
were already suffering from sun stroke and heat apoplexy. The men were
enduring all the torments of thirst, their lips were dry and cracked;
their tongues were hard and parched, and their eyes were scorched with
the glare. And to add to their agony there ran in front of them a
brook, clear and cold from the mountains.
I have seen men and horses stampede at sight of the Nile and throw
themselves into the yellow flood, and I have watched soldiers quench
their thirst amid a hail of bullets. The risk was great, but the need
was greater, and across the deadly space dashed the Japanese. Plunging
their heads into the brook they cooled their parched throats and
fevered skins, and came back to cover. Another regiment had worked its
way painfully and with loss to a position within six or seven hundred
yards from a ridge, the approach to which was like a glacis. On the
ridge were five hundred riflemen. They had no trench, yet they held a
whole regiment beyond that “long deadly zone of horizontal fire which
is the most powerful factor in battle.” This small body of Russians
was composed of determined men; they took steady and careful aim; the
ground was favourable, and the result was that which we so often saw
in South Africa. When a Japanese raised his head it was to receive a
bullet; when an officer showed himself it was to have a volley. Against
such a fire mere masses could not avail.
With European troops it is agreed that fifteen per cent. of casualties
will check an advance. A greater percentage would be needed to stop
Japanese infantry, but even to their reckless courage there is a limit
and that limit was reached on our left. The casualties were slowly
mounting up. Among the officers slain was Lieut. Shirasawa, who played
a brilliant part in the attack on Hamatan on May 1st, leading his
section up the hill to capture the Russians, and Sub-Lieut. Kiroke,
member of a noble house, who died crying: “Long live the Emperor!”
Through the long hot hours the fight went on and still no signs of
advance. From an eminence near the Temple in the Pass General Kuroki
and his Staff, with whom was General Sir Ian Hamilton, looked on and
received the reports of orderlies and gallopers. And always the sky was
flecked with tiny white clouds and the hills in front spurted brown
dust and clouds of smoke. Again the Russian gunners poured a quick fire
of shrapnel into the batteries and drove the Japanese artillery-men to
shelter.
It was manifest that our shrapnel could not affect the enemy’s
positions: the range of the fuse was too short. Shrapnel was
accordingly abandoned for common shell, which has a longer range, and
once more we witnessed the destructive effect of the high explosive
that Japan has invented for the field gun.
The moment had arrived for decisive action. The centre must push
forward and relieve the pressure on the left. At five o’clock the
order was given and from behind the guns rose the ranks of the
infantry. Descending the ridge they crossed the shallow stream before
Tien-shu-tien and moved up the green slopes toward the enemy’s
position. As they advanced they opened out into two lines of extended
order, so as to form two sides of a triangle. From a pyramid-shaped
hill to the South of the white tower sprang another battalion. All
day they had lain like brown stones on the brown slope--hidden from
the enemy’s view yet well within range of their guns. With a shout
they descended into the valley, crossed the road, and, scaling a hill,
threatened the right of the position at To-wan. The left was already
menaced by the advance from the Pass through Tien-shu-tien. The Russian
guns no longer spoke: they had begun to descend the hills in haste. The
position was at our mercy, and the left was free to move. But caution
was still necessary, for on a wooded hill commanding the advance stood
a resolute body of men who seemed to have charmed lives, neither rifles
nor plunging fire of shells could drive them from their trenches until
they saw that the situation was indeed hopeless. Then only did they
retire and join their comrades on the way to Liao-yang.
The battle was ended and once more victory was with the Japanese.
Yan-shu-ling, Tien-shu-tien and Yu-shu-ling--all the objectives were in
our hands. The enemy still held a Pass five miles North, and our left
flank bivouacked near in the hope of attacking next morning. But in the
night the Russians withdrew and we halted at To-wan and Tien-shu-tien.
Next day we heard that General Keller, who succeeded to this command
after the passage of the Yalu, had been mortally wounded by a fragment
of a shell while visiting one of the gun positions. Chinese reported
that in the retirement the Russians carried two rich Chinese coffins
from which it was inferred that two officers in high command had been
killed. We also learned that General Kuropatkin was at Am-ping whence
he had directed the operations. Two guns had been abandoned in the
flight, and in the gun emplacements were many live shells. One of the
guns lay on the Pekin road near To-wan. Its story was written on the
upturned limber and the muzzle jammed hard against a tree at the foot
of a steep hill. The gun was coming down the slope when the horses were
shot or scared by rifle fire, and it went crashing down the height
into the road. The breach block had been removed; otherwise the gun
was intact. Another gun had been hurled down a hill and had buried
its muzzle deep into the earth; the breach was open and in it was an
unexploded shell. Of the Russians 6 officers and 506 men were buried
on the field, and 150 prisoners were taken, including the colonel of
the 121st regiment. The Japanese casualties were 861--9 officers and
132 men killed; 33 officers and 687 men wounded.
[Illustration: After the Fight.]
[Illustration: The Red Cross at Work.]
From the presence of General Kuropatkin at Am-ping, and the despatch of
a force down the Mukden road, it may be reasonably concluded that the
Russians intended to deliver a counter attack on our right. No fewer
than twenty-four battalions were directed against that flank which they
hoped to crush by superior numbers. The attempt failed signally owing
to the skill of the Japanese in manœuvring among the mountains and to
the fortunate chance that placed the detachment from our centre in
possession of the cliff under which the enemy was compelled to retire.
On the right and centre the Russians fought well and showed greater
energy and determination. But they were sadly wanting in initiative and
enterprise.
A great soldier would have seized the opportunity when our left was
held in check to deliver a counter attack on our right centre where
there was a manifestly weak point. The distance between our centre
and our right wing was great, and the only defence was a regiment of
cavalry and one battalion in reserve. There appeared a clear opening
for breaking through and turning our whole position. The advantages
of situation, and of artillery were decidedly with the Russians. They
had had weeks in which to prepare roads and emplacements, and their
guns were, for the most part, skilfully placed, though, as usual,
they affected sky-lines, so that their fire was visible. The Japanese
gun positions were not well chosen. This defect was due partly to
the inferior range of their artillery, and partly to the extremely
difficult nature of the country in which they were suddenly called upon
to make selection. They, too, exposed their guns against the sky-line,
not having learned thoroughly the lesson of indirect fire.