A HARD-WON VICTORY.
Now was the moment to strike and to strike hard. Out of the South came
a double line of men. They stretched Westward across the brown sunlit
plain--a far-flung battle line. War is full to the lips with horrors,
yet it has its crown of glory. And this is the crown--a line of battle
advancing to the attack. The blood raced hot and fast through our veins
as we watched them moving over the plain. Two paces between each man;
forty paces between the lines; khaki tunics and dark blue trousers;
rifle in hand. Onward they marched in long steady unbroken lines.
No parade was ever finer. The brown furrows and yellow stubble were
crushed flat under their feet. In their path lay a deserted hamlet,
over whose grey walls hung the shadows of fir trees. Near the village
they halted, and knelt with rifle at the shoulder--ready for attack.
The supports came up at the double. Then the lines rose and passed into
the village.
A moment or two and they reappeared in the fields beyond, where
sheaves of millet caught the glow of the setting sun. On the right
rose a solitary grey rock crowned by a temple, whose hoary towers and
crennelated walls seemed to have been hewn out of the mountain. In the
shadow of a sheer cliff lay a cluster of peasant cottages, and on the
Western incline was a dark grove. This was their objective, for here in
trenches and among the escarpments was a rearguard of Russians ready
to shed their blood for the safety of the army. Away to the left stood
another grey rock, shaped like the segment of a basin upturned, and
isolated on the plain. One side fell sheer into a deep bed, through
which flowed a shallow stream. On the near bank behind a little grove
and a few houses were posted two Japanese batteries, the escort of
which covered the Western slope of the rock. The lines were advancing
upon Temple Hill when the enemy’s guns found them. From Bastion Hill
and from the heights to the North came the roar of artillery, and over
the unswerving lines burst clouds of shrapnel. The effect was hardly
perceptible, and not for a second did the guns check the advance.
Swinging toward the East the lines moved steadily forward. On our front
appeared another line advancing from the South-west, so that Temple
Hill lay within a triangle of rifles. Shrapnel continued to rain upon
the open ranks, but the forward movement went on, the lines converging
upon the Temple until they faced opposing rifles. North of Temple Hill
runs a road on which the Russian infantry were preparing to withstand
the onset. Their rifles were already making gaps in the rapidly
advancing ranks, but the progress was unchecked.
Shouting their battle cry the Japanese rushed upon the line of bayonets
fringing the road. It was thrust and thrust, and in a few moments all
was over. The scattered remnant of the enemy was in full flight along
the road to the North. Half a company posted in a field to the left
rear of the Japanese remained until the last. Few escaped. While we
watched this hand-to-hand contest, the troops on the Eastern side of
Temple Hill were hotly engaged. From the houses at the foot of the
cliff rifles rang out, and from the heights on the North flew shell
after shell. The advance over this front was difficult, for Temple Hill
was strongly held and the Russians fought with the courage of despair.
Flight was not less perilous than combat, and upon their efforts
depended the safety of the retreating army.
While the attack was being pressed from the West a large force of
the enemy came down from the hills and drew near to the Temple. They
appeared to be contemplating a counter attack. But with the Russians
nothing happens as you expect. Well out of rifle range they halted,
faced about and retired, leaving two companies on the rising ground
to check the advance on our right front. Two new batteries in the
hills to the North opened fire and the air swirled with the angry
snarl of shrapnel. From the trenches and walls of Temple Hill the
devoted rear guard emptied their magazines and strove like heroes to
stem the torrent that swept toward them. They might as well have tried
to withstand the long roll of the Pacific. The wave rushed on and
engulphed them. When I reached the hill it was a sorry sight. The walls
of the Temple were riddled with shot: the painted mud gods through
whose breasts the Russian soldiers had thrust their bayonets a few
days before looked placidly down upon the broken and bleeding bodies
of the scoffers. One shrine had caught fire and amid the charred ruins
stood the gods shorn of paint and ornament--pathetic idols of mud in
all their nakedness. Upon the slope, under the trees, lay rigid forms
holding fast to rifles, and on the road below men seemed asleep.
Temple Hill was ours, but Bastion Hill was still in Russian hands, and
further advance on our front was impracticable. The enemy’s troops
massed at the foot of the hill had greatly diminished in number,
column after column having marched North into the mountains. The two
batteries, however, maintained their activity, searching the empty
fields, bombarding the villages, and finally turning their attention to
the guns near the rocky height on our left. Their shells did little or
no damage, though they kept our batteries silent. Only towards sunset,
when the Russians appeared to be making preparations to withdraw their
guns, was there any display of energy on the part of the Japanese
artillery. Shrapnel being fused at too short a range, common
shell was used, and clouds of earth and smoke rose about the enemy’s
batteries, but not for a moment were they silenced or their position
endangered.
[Illustration: Temple Hill: Ruins of Temple and Gods.]
[Illustration: A Manchurian Scavenger.]
Meantime Bastion Hill began to give signs of life. Hitherto it had
been only a prominent feature in the landscape, though its tactical
importance could not escape recognition. At five o’clock dark figures
suddenly appeared on the sky line along the Northern slope. They grew
rapidly in multitude and began to descend. Pouring over the edge of the
height, they spread like a flood on the Southern slope. What a target
for guns! How the Japanese artillery-men must have fretted and fumed
to miss such an opportunity. Along the foot of Bastion Hill stretches
a deep gully into which the Russian infantrymen dropped. Presently a
few emerged and ran forward into another nullah within easy range of
a bluff held by the remnant of the gallant company that had stormed
the lower height and wrought such havoc earlier in the day. Again we
looked for an attack by the enemy and again we were disappointed. At
Ponchiho, on our extreme right, the struggle had continued all day
with increasing fury. The Russians had pushed forward reinforcements
and four divisions with eighty guns were engaged. Our comparatively
small force suffered heavy losses, but succeeded in holding back
the enemy who made no further progress on that flank. At night when
hostilities were suspended our position was this:--Our left flank had
moved some miles along the West of the railway; our centre threatened
the Russian line of retreat from the East; the pursuit of the left wing
of the Eastern army was checked by a crossfire from hills North of the
Temple, and from the foot of Bastion Hill, while at Ponchiho, on our
extreme right, the position was still critical. There were unmistakable
evidences, however, that the attack on the Russian centre had shaken
the confidence of the enemy, and that they were already making
preparations to retreat behind the Sha river.
Ponchiho continued to be a source of the greatest anxiety. Though the
brigade which formed the original garrison had been reinforced, the
enemy showed no disposition to relax their hold. On the 11th they
renewed the attack with great energy, and on the following day made a
supreme effort to capture the range of hills North of Ponchiho. This
position was held by a single company of reserves of the Guards. At
four o’clock in the morning, a large force of Russians attacked the
hill from three points. As they approached the Japanese sprang out of
the first trench and charged with the bayonet. But what were fourteen
men against so many? The first line of trenches was quickly in the
enemy’s possession, and the remnant of the Japanese company formed
up on the crest of the hill. In the darkness took place a terrible
scrimmage. Friend was indistinguishable from foe. Despite heroic
efforts the Japanese were driven back and the heights appeared to be
lost when another company came to the rescue. The officer who led these
reinforcements came to the crest of the hill shouting, “Slay! Slay!”
and fell instantly with a bullet through the heart. Colonel Ota and his
adjutant were wounded and the colour bearer fell. Lieutenant Kiritani
seized the flag and the gallant remnant of the company fought till
dawn. On the first streak of grey in the East, the Japanese guns opened
on the position and the Russians retired, leaving on the hill eight
officers and one hundred and forty men dead.
To add to the difficulties a new and unknown force came up from the
South on the morning of the 12th and Ponchiho was surrounded. But when
things looked most serious an unexpected change happened. The enemy
who had crossed the Tai-tsu began to return and the pressure from the
South was relieved. It was clear that the Russian infantry brigade and
cavalry regiment had met with some disaster and that the attempt to
strike from the rear had failed. The explanation was to be found in the
action of Prince Kun-in’s cavalry brigade. When news came of the danger
threatening Ponchiho, his Royal Highness marched from the neighbourhood
of the coal mine, crossed the Tai-tsu, and appeared in the rear and
on the flank of the enemy. Coming upon the Russian reserves, who had
posted no vedettes, the Prince took them by surprise and opened fire
with his machine guns from the cover of a wood. In a few seconds
three hundred dead lay on the field and the whole force of the enemy
retreated in confusion across the Tai-tsu. The Cossacks made no effort
to retrieve the disaster, but fled East, pursued for thirty miles by
the Japanese cavalry.
This is the first occasion that I have known cavalry to be of service
in Manchuria except for reconnaisance work and masking the advance
of large bodies of infantry. In the mountainous region, where the
movements of cavalry must be confined to bad and often impassable
roads, it was admitted that the Cossacks had no chance of displaying
their boasted dash and prowess. When we approached the plains and when
the harvests were reaped we looked for some activity on the part of
Russian horsemen: but the furrowed fields of friable loam, bristling
with millet stubble, hard as bamboo and sharp as razors, evidently
acted as a strong deterrent. Save when dismounted to cover the flank of
the army retiring from Liao-yang, the Cossacks have done nothing more
than demonstrate how great a reputation may be built on tradition. On
the other hand, further observation has tended to modify the opinion of
experts as to the quality of the Japanese cavalry and to acknowledge
that it has some merits.
On the South, then, Ponchiho was saved by the cavalry brigade, but
North of the Tai-tsu the situation was unchanged. The strength and
determination of the enemy were undiminished, and though the Japanese
fought with courage and skill they could do no more than hold their
positions.