of Port Arthur, his remark is reported to have been: “It is like an
eagle’s nest that even a sky-scraping ladder cannot reach.” Yes, it
was even so. As far as the eye could reach, every hill and every
mountain was covered with forts and ramparts; the landward side was
encircled with iron walls of tenfold strength, and its defenders were
brave soldiers trained by the veteran General Dragomiloff,—courageous
men, the strongest and quickest,—the flower of the Russian Army. We
were now in front of this “impregnable” fortress to prove that it was
“pregnable” after all. The 19th of August was the first day of the
general attack, the starting-point of the historic incident of the
fall of Port Arthur. The struggle that was to be characterized in the
world’s history of warfare as the most difficult and most horrible
of all struggles began on this day and lasted for more than four
months. During this period our desperate attack was responded to by
as desperate a defense, and our army paid an immense price for its
victory, turning the mountains and valleys of Port Arthur into scorched
earth honeycombed by shells, butchering men and capturing the fortress
at last with bullets of human flesh shot out by the Yamato-Damashii
itself. The gazing world was astonished by the wonderful efficiency of
such a mode of warfare!
We, at the foot of Taku-shan, were hurrying on the various preparations
for attack. We were making a special investigation of the ways and
means of encountering the wire-entanglements, upon which the enemy
depended as the most efficient of their secondary defensive works, and
by the stakes and wires of which so many of our men had been killed in
previous battles. All the hills in our sight, large or small, high or
low, were wrapped about with these horrible things, that looked at a
distance like dark dots on the ground.
We had to break these entanglements, step on them, and proceed. The
cutting properly belonged to the engineers, but their number was
limited while that of the wire-entanglements was almost limitless. So
the infantry had to learn to cut them for themselves. An imitation
entanglement was made on the bank of the river Taiko and we were
taught by the engineers how to break it down. First of all, a group
of shears-men would march up and cut the iron wires, then the saw-men
would follow and knock down the stakes or else saw them through. When
a part of the entanglement was thus opened, a detachment of men would
rush through the opening.
This kind of work was of urgent necessity for us and we practiced it
with zeal and diligence. But in actual fighting the work cannot be done
so easily. The forlorn-hope engineers, who march up to destroy the
entanglements, are always annihilated without exception, because they
have to work before the very muzzles of the machine-guns. Moreover,
it was discovered that these wires were charged with electricity.
There were, however, two opinions about the electric current: one was
that the electricity was strong enough to kill whoever touched the
wires, and the other that it was only intended to inform the enemy’s
watchtowers, by a weak current of electricity, of the approach of the
destroyers. Whichever it might be, we could not cut the wires with
ordinary scissors so long as they were charged with electricity, so we
contrived to bind bamboo sticks to the handles of the shears to make
them non-conducting. In spite of all these precautions, we found in
actual fight that the wires were charged with a very strong current;
some of our men were killed instantly by the shock, others had their
limbs split like brushes of bamboo. We also practiced methods of
crossing the enemy’s trenches with ladders, but again in actual fight
we found that their trenches were too wide or too deep for these
ladders to be of much use.
The fortress was protected by earth-mines, which were buried
everywhere. They had to be destroyed by our engineers, by cutting
off the fuse. Until the very day of our attack we could see through
field-glasses groups of Russians at work here and there, burying
these explosives in the ground with picks. We marked those places on
our maps. We found out and remembered everything that we could; for
instance, that each of the stakes of the entanglements was beaten down
with twelve blows of a hammer, or how many earth-mines were being
buried in any particular valley. Our reconnoitring parties found that
every ravine up which our infantry was likely to march was set with
mines, and that the methods of disposing them were very clever. To
cite one example, where the ravine was narrowest there was buried a
mine that would explode when stepped on. When the first man was killed
in this way, the rest would of course divide themselves on either
side of the ravine, where a series of mines would burst and kill all
of the attacking party. It was extremely hard to go through these
places in safety. On the top of all this, all the guns and rifles of
all the forts and skirmish-trenches were so directed as to be able to
aim at every ravine and every rock, so that none of us could escape
the concentrated cross-fire from three directions. Their defense left
almost nothing to be desired.
At dawn on the 19th of August, the whole line of our artillery opened
fire simultaneously, with East Kikuan as our chief objective, but
bombarding other forts at the same time. This was the first step in our
general assault. Soon, our assaulting columns pushed on their way under
cover of the artillery fire, approaching the enemy inch by inch, ready
to rush upon them with one accord as soon as our fire began to take
effect upon the Russians. Therefore our batteries devoted their whole
energy to breaking the forts, shattering the bomb-proofs, and opening
breaches in the skirmish-trenches through which our storming parties
could enter.
No sooner had our firing begun than the enemy responded from all
their batteries and tried hard to silence our artillery and impede
the progress of our infantry. What a terrible scene presented itself
when huge shells were exchanged between the heavy guns of both sides!
Explosive shells as big as _saké_-casks[54] and spherical shells caused
great vibrations in the air, and their groaning reverberation set at
naught the fury of pealing thunders. The bursting of shells scattered
lightning everywhere, and the smoke covered the scene with thick
steamy clouds, in which it seemed impossible for any living thing to
breathe. We nicknamed the enemy’s shells “train shells,” because they
came moaning and shrieking just like a train leaving the station with
sharp whistling. When we heard such a sound near us the whole earth
shook, and in the tremendous roaring men, horses, rocks, and sand were
all hurled up together. Everything that came into collision with these
terrible trains was reduced to small fragments; these fragments would
fall to the ground and then go up again, as if they had wings to fly
with. One lieutenant’s neck was torn by a fragment of shell, and his
head hung by the skin only. Both arms of a private were cut off clean
from the shoulders by the same process.
This day was to come to an end with bombardment only. It had been
our plan to employ the first day or two in bombarding the enemy
and then to go on with an infantry attack. That evening I went on
business to the headquarters of our division, that is, the place where
our artillery was posted. It was a dark night, and through the sky
whitish-blue bars of fire were flying to and fro between the contending
parties; it looked to me like the highway leading to hell. The Russian
search-lights were being thrown over the position of our artillery from
Kikuan-shan and Hokuginzan. These terrible lights would turn every now
and then toward our infantry, who were approaching the enemy step
by step. We, too, used the search-lights captured from the enemy and
tried to counteract the power of theirs and also to expose the Russian
battery to view, but they were far inferior to those still in the
enemy’s possession. Star-shells were shot off from time to time by the
enemy, which illuminated the sky far better than the annual display of
fireworks at Ryogoku.[55] They were like great electric lamps hanging
in the air, making the whole place as light as day, so that even the
movement of an ant could easily be detected. They were powerful in
thwarting the progress of our assaulting column, because every movement
of the detachment was exposed by this light and could be accurately
seen by the enemy, and the usual machine-guns were sure to pour a rain
of horrible shot upon the invaders. Therefore, as soon as we saw the
star-rocket burst in the sky, we used to caution each other, saying,
“Don’t move! don’t move!”
When I reached headquarters, the division-commander and his staff were
standing at our artillery position and watching this scene of night
fighting without the cover of darkness. As soon as a search-light was
seen in a Russian fort, our chief-of-staff would order, “Hit that!
Smash that fellow!” He said, folding his arms in utter unconcern: “I
feel like a young bride! Exposed to such a full glare of light, I am
awfully shy and bashful!”
Our detachment marched as far as Yangchia-kou during this night. Soon
after we reached there, a shell came near us with a tremendous noise.
We said to each other: “Some must have been killed. Who are they?
Who?” When the smoke cleared, we found four or five men lying dead or
wounded, two of them recruits who had arrived only a few days before
from home. One of the two was killed in a horrible manner; the half of
his body below the waist was entirely gone. The legs of the other were
shattered and the blood was gushing out like water. His captain went to
him and encouraged him, saying: “Don’t be afraid! Be brave!”
“Captain, I am very sorry to be thus disabled without having fought at
all. I will come back healed as quickly as possible. Please let me be
in your company again.”
“Even without having fought, your wounds are honorable. Get well
quickly and come back!”
Why one is shot on the battle-field and the other not seems an
inscrutable mystery. Some there are who in one severe fight after
another do not sustain a single scratch; others seem to be followed by
shot or to draw shot to themselves. Some are killed very soon after
landing and before knowing how it feels to be shot at. When once you
become a target for shot, forty or fifty may come to you, as to
that man in the battle of Taipo-shan of whom I have already spoken.
Is this what is called fate, or is it mere chance? On the 19th, when
the headquarters of the division were removed to the northern slope
of Taku-shan, the division-commander was observing the enemy, with
a staff-officer on either side, when a projectile came and both the
staff-officers were killed on the spot, while the general in the
middle was not even slightly hurt. In an assault on a fortress those
in front have of course the highest probability of being hit, but
even those in the rear sustain more injury than in a field battle.
Napoleon said: “A shot may be aimed at you, but cannot pursue you. If
it could pursue you at all, it would overtake you even if you fled to
the uttermost parts of the earth.” Yes, a shot is an uncanny thing,
like an apparition. With our human power we cannot tell whether it
will hit us or not. It depends entirely upon one’s luck. There is
another incident that I recollect in this connection. After the battle
of Taipo-shan, five or six of the retreating Russians were walking
off in a leisurely way, without hurrying, and swinging their arms.
This behavior we thought very impudent, and each of us aimed at them
as carefully as in drill-ground practice and fired at them with our
rifles resting on something steady, but all in vain. One officer was
sure he could hit them, but he too failed, and the Russians continued
to walk off slowly and were eventually lost sight of. Several times
after this, we tried our skill in musketry on a Russian standing on a
fort and waving his handkerchief to challenge us, or on some audacious
fellow who would dare to come out of the breastwork and insult us. In
spite of our skill, indignation, and curiosity combined, these impudent
fellows often escaped in safety. Such being the case, those who have
been through several battles become naturally careless and fearless. At
first we involuntarily lower our heads a little at the sound of a small
bullet. Even the officer who scolds his men, saying, “Who is it that
salutes the enemy’s shot?” cannot help nodding to the enemy at first.
Of course this does not imply timidity at all; it seems to be the
result of some sort of reflex action of the nerves. But when the shot
begin to come like a shower of rain, we can no longer give each shot a
bow, but become bold at once. The boom and roar of big shells excite in
us no special sensation. When we know that by the time we hear these
horrible sounds the projectiles have gone far past us, our courage is
confirmed and, instead of bowing to an empty sound, we begin to think
of standing on the breastwork and munching rice-balls to show off to
the enemy! And the shot seems to shun those audacious ones as a rule,
to go round them and call upon others!
[Illustration: Japanese kanji Ch. XXV.]
A RAIN OF HUMAN BULLETS
THE bodies of the brave dead built hill upon hill, their blood made
streams in the valleys. The battle-field was turned into a cemetery
and hill and valley into burnt-out soil. As minutes and seconds went
on, life after life was sent off into eternity. When the attacking
party combines accurate firearms with ammunition powerful enough to
demoralize the enemy, what is the power with which to follow up this
advantage to its sure result, that is, final victory? That power is the
bayonet and the war-cry together! The glittering bayonet, the hideous
yelling, when combined, are what really put the enemy to flight. A
correspondent of the London “Standard” has said truly: “The war-cry of
the Japanese Army pierced the hearts of the Russians.” But, however
much our glittering bayonets and shouting voices intimidated the enemy,
I cannot help weeping at the recollection of that assault. Why? Because
the glittering of the bayonet and the yelling of the war-cry became
fainter and fainter in the first general assault! In spite of the
great number of projectiles and the large quantity of human bullets
that were spent, the storming of the forts which the Russians called
invincible ended in utter failure. Nay, several great assaults after
this one drained the blood of patriotic warriors and shattered their
bones in vain. After all, however, this apparently useless sacrifice
of a large number of lives was not without its effect. Strategically
we needed to reduce the great fortress as quickly as possible, however
great the damage to our army might be; so, therefore, the commanding
general resolved with tears to offer the necessary sacrifice, and his
subordinates willingly offered their lives and stormed the enemy with
bullets of their own flesh. And these first fruitless assaults proved
the necessary first step and a valuable preparation for our final
success.
We noticed that our continuous bombardment of the Russian forts since
the 19th, more especially of those on East Kikuan, which was our
objective, had dealt a severe blow on the enemy; so the Yoshinaga
battalion was ordered to march on the night of the 21st as the first
assaulting column. A forlorn hope of engineers were dispatched ahead to
break the wire-entanglements. Their desperate effort was fortunately
successful, and a little opening was made for the infantry. Thereupon
Captain Yoshinaga ordered his men not to fire a shot, not to utter
a whisper, but to press on under cover of the night; and a body of
dark shadows suddenly stood right against the enemy’s ramparts.
The surprised Russians were obliged to retreat without offering a
fight; but as soon as they had fallen back a little distance, a large
detachment of reinforcements appeared, accompanied by the horrible
sound of machine-guns in the rear. They forced the retreating Russians
forward, and together they offered a strong counter-attack, with their
shout of “Woola” shaking heaven and earth. Major Yoshinaga ordered his
men not to retreat a step, and a terrible hand-to-hand fight ensued.
Both parties fought fiercely with fists, bayonets, and rifles, but
alas! Major Yoshinaga, who was commanding his men from the breastwork,
was shot through the chest and fell. Captain Okubo took up the command
in his place; soon he too was killed. Substitute after substitute was
killed, and eventually not only the officers but also the men were,
nearly all of them, killed. No reinforcement came to their aid, the
enemy’s concentrated fire became more and more violent, and the few
surviving men were obliged to retreat for a while into the ravine below
the wire-entanglements and wait there for the arrival of reserves.
None came to help them, and they waited vainly until the dusk of the
following day, with the remains of their dead comrades before their
eyes. They were right below the enemy, only a dozen feet or so away
from them, and for thirteen hours they had to grasp their rifles hard
and stare at the Russians, unable to do anything.
On the night of the 22d the Taketomi battalion went through the
broken wire-entanglements and tried by a fierce attack to make
good our failure of the previous night. Captain Matsuoka was first
wounded; his thigh was cut away and he could stand no longer. First
Lieutenant Miyake was shot through the lungs. The scene went from bad
to worse. The Russians behaved as if trying to show that they had been
waiting for our coming, proud of their success of the night before.
Their search-lights went round so fast as to dazzle our assaulting
detachment; their star-lights burned over our heads and made us an
easy target for their shooting. “Charge! Forward! Woo-waa!” Thus
crying, Captain Yanagawa rushed in most gallantly, in the light of
the star-rockets. Half of his face was seen dyed with blood and he
was flourishing a glittering sword in his right hand. Again he cried,
“Charge!” but that was the last we heard of his brave voice. White
blades flashed in the dark, like reeds in the wind, but that flash
gradually ceased, the loud yell of a few moments before stopped. We
heard only the shouting of the enemy behind their ramparts. They came
up and danced for joy on the breastwork, while we had been killed to
create a hill of corpses and a stream of blood! What grief! What sorrow!
Captain Matsuoka, who was seriously wounded as I have said, soon
lost so much blood from his wounded thigh, that his breathing became
fainter and fainter, and he knew that his end was fast approaching.
He pulled out of his pocket the secret maps and destroyed them, and
died entangled in the enemy’s wire. All who went to fetch him were
also killed and went to their eternal sleep side by side with the
brave captain. This captain’s glorious death was later reported to
the Emperor through His Majesty’s military chamberlain. That Captain
Yanagawa who rushed toward the enemy shouting and yelling, in spite of
several wounds, was shot down just at the moment of leaping over the
Russian rampart. He leaned against the breastwork of the rampart to die
peacefully there after he had done his very best, but the cruel enemy
would not allow that. They cut him into pieces and subjected him to
wanton cruelties.
Nevertheless, we were determined to deal a heavy blow on some vital
part of the enemy, however often and however badly we might be repulsed
or routed. We were ready to sacrifice not only a brigade but even a
whole division for this important object. Accordingly another great
assault was planned for 3 A. M. of the 24th. For several days our
company had been bivouacking in the ravine of Yangchia-kou, but now
on the night of the 23d we were to leave this place and proceed to
the rendezvous of Wuchia-fang. So our captain gathered together his
lieutenants and said:—
“Farewell! I have no other words to say to you! I have decided to leave
my body on to-morrow’s battle-field. Please take this water cup of long
separation.”
Before these words from our captain we, too, had made up our minds to
die this time. We exchanged the farewell cup of water from our water
bottle, saying:—
“_This_ evening our water tastes like golden nectar!”
Our company quietly left its place of bivouac and fell in under dark
willows on the river bank. Thinking that it was the last time we should
be together, we could not force back the tears. Soon we began our march
and passed on under the dark avenue of trees, where we met a long
string of stretchers carrying the wounded who had fallen during the
last few days—such a long, almost endless train of stretchers!
“Where are you injured?” I asked one of them as I passed. The wounded
man answered, “My legs broken.” “Well done! Go quietly.”
Our detachment reached the river at the other side of a mountain that
looks like the back of an elephant. It was so dark that we could
not see anything at all. We groped our way toward Wuchia-fang, when
in front of us we heard a sound of human voices. I threw myself on
the ground and, looking up, saw through the dark that a long line of
our wounded were laid down on the river beach. We marched on, sick
at heart, over such a tremendous number of the wounded, it took us
some time to reach the end of this long line. Their groaning, hard
breathing, suffering, pain, their exposure to the night dew without
anything to cover them up, was pitiful. We could not help being deeply
affected by this scene of misery.
In the meantime we were losing our way, we could not find Wuchia-fang,
but suddenly came into the headquarters of the Ninth Division. General
Oshima, the commander, was seen clad in his dark winter uniform in
spite of the season, a silk crepe _obi_ tied tightly about his waist,
from which a long Japanese sword was hanging. At the sight of the
gallant general we felt as if we were in a region of romance. When his
division occupied Panlung, General Oshima is reported to have stood
at the head of his army in this dark uniform, making himself the only
dark target for the enemy’s shot, thus trying to inspire his men with
courage and confidence. I asked the way of a staff-officer, and our
company turned back in the proper direction. We could not, however,
find the right place; we asked again, and were told to go to the
right; when we went to the right, we were told to go back to where
we started; we were utterly at a loss where to go. The time for our
rendezvous was fixed at one o’clock—it was now only a little before
that time. If we should fail to appear on the spot in time, it would
disgrace us, and we had to think not only of our personal disgrace, but
that the prospective attack needed as many fighters as possible. The
delay in our arrival might become a cause of defeat. The captain and
all of us were extremely anxious and worried. Fortunately, however, at
this juncture we came across a man belonging to the engineer-corps,
who minutely explained to us how to find Wuchia-fang, telling us to
go through the opening a little further on, where our engineers were
then engaged in sapping. We went on as instructed and soon found our
siege-trenches; we went along these until we came to an opening, beyond
which we had to go through the fields exposed to the enemy’s view. We
ran on, but presently a flash of search-light came! “Lie down!” was
ordered, and we waited, holding our breath for that terrible light
to disappear. But the search-light would not disappear. Meanwhile
communication with our rear was cut off. At last we came to the place
which we imagined to be the rendezvous. We found none of our army
there, but dark corpses were strewn on the ground. Probably our army
had already gathered themselves at the foot of the East Panlung Fort,
which was supposed to be the centre of our attack. Looking at our
watches, we found that it was a few minutes past one o’clock. We tried
hard to find our main body, but in vain. Were we too late? The anxiety
of our captain was intense. Our disappointment was agonizing. Were we
to miss our opportunity to join in the general assault? The captain
said, “I cannot expiate my fault even with suicide!” Not only he, but
all of us, felt that if we failed to join this battle, the company
itself would be disgraced forever; and that compared with that disgrace
our unanimous suicide was a mere trifle.