THE LAST STRUGGLE.
The end was drawing near. Under cover of darkness attacks were made
on Bastion Hill and the heights to the South-east. They began at one
in the morning and were attended with some loss, the enemy using hand
grenades charged with tiny sharp-edged lozenges of steel that inflicted
cruel wounds. At five o’clock a general advance was ordered, and we
occupied the heights on the other side of the stream North of Bastion
Hill. Progress, however, was very slow, the Russians remaining in
strong position to the North whence they maintained a heavy cannonade.
The army on our left continued to harass the railway North of Yentai,
and strove to drive the enemy into the mountainous region on the East.
The operations of the 12th were not very effective, though preparations
had been made to envelope the Russians in three loops--one on the East,
another on the South, a third on the West.
The 13th witnessed events of supreme importance, and was made memorable
by one of the most desperate and daring encounters that history
records. North of Temple Hill rises a cluster of mountains united
by broad ridges, and from the centre of which springs a lofty peak.
Here the Russians were entrenched in force, and it was necessary to
expel them before any further advance could be made. These heights lay
directly in the path of the Okasaki brigade, which has distinguished
itself for reckless courage and stubborn tenacity. Covered by the fire
of six batteries at the foot of Bastion Hill and on the plain to the
North-east, this brigade advanced to the assault. As they crossed the
valley they came under heavy artillery fire from guns posted on the
Northern heights. The movement began at dawn, and the sun was still
low in the heavens when at the base of the mountains appeared lines
of khaki and blue. Here progress was arrested. Stormed at by shot
and shell the Japanese clung close to the side of the hill. Overhead
screamed the shrapnel of their batteries searching the crest and
reverse slope. From summit and ridge a brigade of the enemy swept their
front with a blizzard of lead. Over the heads of the Russians, too,
came the shells of their own batteries. It was a strange artillery
duel, and raged with unabated fury the live-long day, making that
cluster of brown hills a real inferno.
To advance looked impossible; to remain seemed certain death. Yet the
Japanese held fast with amazing courage. As the sun drew near to the
West we saw them creeping slowly up the hill. Russians came out of
the trenches over the crest and poured into the prostrate ranks volley
after volley. Guns drove them back to cover and the Japanese struggled
upward a few paces. Again the rifles appeared above and again they
vanished under the showers of shrapnel. So the conflict went on hour
after hour, and with every hour we saw that our thinned lines were
advancing.
It was nearly six o’clock in the evening when a company struggled
to the summit. Then was witnessed a terrible combat that held us
breathless. Every movement was distinctly visible from the plain.
Thirty or forty men of that gallant company had resolved to capture
the hill or die. Springing to their feet they dashed toward the enemy,
who rose to meet them. The onset was fierce, but the advantage was
altogether in favour of the defenders. Against that terrible fusilade
no man could stand however brave and reckless. The survivors of the
little band turned and fled. One man did not stop till he reached the
bottom of the hill. Undismayed, another section ran forward and was
rolled back, leaving several dark figures prone on the slope.
Out of this carnage rose a handful of desperate men. Without pause
or hesitation they charged right to the crest. Fronting them stood a
line of stalwart Russians, and again we saw as in a troubled dream
the bloody work of bayonet. In a minute or two the end came. Another
company ran forward to the edge of the slope, and over the summit
tumbled the fragments of the heroic defence.
When I passed over the hill it was strewn with dead--many of whom had
fallen under shrapnel fire. To the onlooker it is often a surprise that
any survive these fierce assaults, but experience has shown that rifles
at two hundred yards are less dangerous than at one thousand yards. The
aim is less steady; the firing is nearly always wild, and most of the
shots fly overhead. The slaughter begins a few moments after flight.
In this attack the Okasaki Brigade received indirect aid from a
brigade of Guards who engaged the enemy on the East. A battalion
advanced toward the high ground, two companies extended three paces
apart, a second company at a distance of six hundred yards, and a
third in column. They crossed the open, the leading company at the
double, the other companies at a walk. The second line suffered,
but the advance was not checked, and in time the troops came to the
village of Karikilon at the foot of the hill. Here the second line
took cover, while the first continued its rapid progress. The hill was
steep; the grass was slippery, and there was no room for an extended
front. The casualties were many, and two more companies were sent to
reinforce. Ammunition ran short, but the attack was pressed until many
of the Japanese came within twelve paces of the enemy’s first line of
trenches. Realising that the loss of this hill would bring disaster
upon their entire force, the Russians fought with stubborn courage.
Fresh troops poured into the trenches and prepared to deliver a counter
attack, but at the critical moment the artillery of the Guards opened
with so much vigour and accuracy that the counter attack had to be
abandoned.
Still the Japanese were unable to advance, and in order to retain their
ground were obliged to entrench. Two more companies, under Colonel
Ota, went forward to aid their sorely-pressed comrades, and throwing
aside everything except rifle and bayonet, rushed into the heart of the
battle.
“It is life or death!” shouted their commander as they swept into the
firing line, and carrying the other companies with them, charged the
trenches.
Nothing could withstand so fierce an onset. The first position was
won, but the enemy clung gallantly to the second line of trenches, and
their artillery devastated the front. Colonel Ota essayed an assault
from a valley to the right, but was slain with a hundred of his men.
Lieutenant Nakamura, sword in one hand and the flag of the Rising Sun
in the other, fell within a few paces from the Russian trench, and
the narrow valley was heaped up with dead and dying. The assault had
failed, but the enemy withdrew in the night.
The way was now open for further advance, and after sunset two brigades
marched North, and drove the enemy from the heights on which their
guns were posted. These guns inflicted severe losses on the infantry,
and delayed so long that they ought to have been captured. But the
advance was not quick enough, and only ammunition wagons fell into our
hands. Next day--the 14th--the enemy was retreating hurriedly on all
sides, and strenuous efforts were made to close in the three loops.
While the army of the West pressed hard upon the railway and fought
with the object of turning the enemy’s right flank, the army of the
Centre drove them back upon the Sandy river. Here the Russians did not
escape without enormous losses. Across a broad cultivated valley North
of the heights stormed on the previous day runs a low range of hills.
Upon two of these eminences the enemy were entrenched, and had a strong
rearguard of infantry to cover the retreat. Against this position the
Japanese advanced in the afternoon. I watched them from a neighbouring
hill as they approached from a flank and moved steadily forward in
extended order under heavy rifle fire. But it was soon manifest that
the _morale_ of the enemy had been shaken by the disasters of
the preceding days, for the resistance was not great. The hill on the
South-west was carried with a rush, while that toward the East was
still defended. Pressing slowly onward, the infantry drove the enemy
across the low saddle, over which two or three thousand Russians were
retiring. Then began the slaughter. The retreating force was caught
between two rapidly converging fires. From the summit of the Western
hill the Japanese swept the saddle and the plain beyond with rifle
fire, while from the East came advancing lines. Through this deadly
pass streamed the enemy. It was a spectacle terrible to behold. Over
a thousand dead bodies marked the path of the Russians, yet never a
white flag was raised. Even on the plain they did not escape. Shrapnel
pursued them beyond the banks of the river. On our right flank the
pursuit was not so vigorous though the enemy suffered very severely,
leaving many dead and wounded on the field. Our men were too exhausted
to continue the carnage. They had fought without rest for seven days
and the units had become mixed. On the night of the 14th hostilities
were practically suspended. We were in possession of the South bank of
the Sha-ho, and the Russians were entrenching on the North bank.
Thus ended General Kuropatkin’s offensive movement. Fifty guns fell
into our hands. We buried ten thousand dead Russians--funeral pyres
blazed in every direction; and everywhere we came upon new and ghastly
evidences of the disaster that had overtaken the enemy.