his sword raised high in the air. Who was this brave fellow who stormed
the enemy’s trenches single-handed? I was astonished at his audacity.
But alas! a shot came flying from somewhere, hit him, and he fell at my
right side, as if crumbling down. He faced death as if returning home.
He had jumped up there bravely all alone to seek death, and attracted
the enemy’s attention by his triumphant cry.
After a while the shells from the Japanese army began to burst briskly
above our heads. Percussion balls fell around us and hurled up smoke
and blood together. Legs, hands, and necks were cut into black
fragments, and scattered about. I shut my eyes in perfect resignation
and prayed that my agony might be put to a speedy end by my being
shattered to pieces all at once. Still no shell came to break my flesh
and bones, but only small fragments came and injured my already wounded
limbs. One wounded soldier who was near me received one of those
horrible fragments on the face. He writhed for a few minutes, then fell
on his face and expired. Every moment I expected to meet a similar
fate; or to be eaten by the hungry dogs and wolves of the field, half
dead, half alive, yet unable to resist my fate. I was being picked off
inch by inch by the fierce eagle of the north. I heard some one crying
“Nippon Banzai” at my head. I opened my eyes and dimly discovered that
is was a poor, wounded man. His reason was all gone, yet he did not
forget to shout Banzai for his Fatherland. He repeated Banzai over
and over again, and also shouted “Come, come, Japanese soldiers!” He
danced, jumped, and shouted in frenzy until he was exhausted, then he
closed his lips and his color began to fade. I shut my eyes and prayed
that he might go in peace.
The blood from my wounds had dyed my body red all over. My arms were
bandaged, but all the other wounds were left uncovered. Sometimes I
shut my eyes in quiet thought and again opened them to stare about me.
To my left I saw two Japanese soldiers lying dead under the flying
Rising Sun. Probably the flag had been planted there by these two
heroes, but if our men pushed forward to it, the enemy were sure to
shoot them down; while, if the Russians attempted to retake the spot,
they were equally sure of being killed by our artillery. This dauntless
pair had kept the spot unto death, and they must have died smiling
and contented at their success. Is this not a fine piece of poetry in
itself? What poet will sing these heroes to posterity!
As I was faintly smiling over this poetic sight of the battle-field, I
saw the most brutal act committed that I could have imagined. Ah, men
and women of a civilization of justice and mercy, please remember this
fact! I have already told you of a savage Russian who butchered Captain
Yanagawa wantonly. Here again, before my very eyes, I saw a Russian
commit a most deliberate act of cruelty and barbarism. I had noticed
a Russian officer repeatedly pointing to his wounded leg and making
signs with his hands for help. Later I saw a Japanese hospital orderly,
himself wounded, go up to the Russian. Without attending to his own
wound, he took out bandages from a bag at his waist and bandaged the
Russian. He did his duty of love and mercy faithfully, thinking that
the wounded foe was not a foe any more, only a hero who had toiled for
his own country. His kindness in dressing the wound of the Russian was
so beautiful and holy that tearful gratitude was due to him even from a
hard-hearted savage. But how did this Russian return the kindness of
this hospital orderly? Tears of gratitude? No! A hand-shake of thanks?
No! Indeed, no! Lo, this beastly Russian officer bestowed a pistol shot
upon his Japanese benefactor! Do not forget this, you people of justice
and humanity! As soon as the orderly had finished bandaging, the
Russian pulled out his revolver from his hip and took the life of the
good Samaritan with one shot! My heart was bursting with indignation at
the sight of this atrocious outrage!
But my indignation, my exasperation, could not be translated into
action. I simply shut my eyes and gnashed my teeth; soon my breathing
became difficult. I felt that my life was fast ebbing, when some one
caught hold of my coat and raised me; after a minute I was let alone.
I slightly opened my eyes and dimly saw two or three Russians going up
the hill. I had been on the point of being made a prisoner! That very
moment when I was raised and laid down was the boundary-line between my
life and death, between my honor and disgrace! The enemy caught hold
of me once, but soon let me go; probably they thought I was dead. No
wonder they thought so, for I was covered with blood.
Then some one came running stealthily to my side and fell down without
a word. Was he dead? No, he was simply feigning death. After a while he
whispered in my ear: “Let us go back. I will help you.”
In the midst of my panting, irregular breathing, I looked at the man.
He was a stranger to me, a private with his head bandaged. I replied to
his very kind offer and said that I could never get back alive under
the circumstances, and wished him to kill me and go himself if he
could. He said that he could not expect to get me back alive, but that
he would at least carry my body; he would not allow it to be left among
the enemy. As soon as he had said this, he caught my left arm and put
it on his shoulder. At this juncture, the brave fellow who was lying at
my right, and who had been groaning for some time, said in a faltering,
tearful voice:—
“Lieutenant, please give me the last cup of water.” My heart was
bursting with emotion, and I fell down by his side in spite of my
helper. This poor fellow was probably one of my men; he asked me to
send him out on his last journey. Poor, poor soul! Of course I could
not force myself to go and leave my poor comrade alone.
“Have you any water?” I asked my helper. Whereupon he took out his
water bottle, stepped over my chest, and poured water into the mouth of
the dying man, who put his shattered hands together as in supplication
and murmuring “Namu-Amida-Butsu![58] Namu-Amida-Butsu!” like a faint
echo, slowly drew his last breath.
I had no heart to leave behind other comrades, dead or wounded, and
seek my own safety. But my kind helper grasped my left arm once again,
raised me on his back, and in one bound leaped over the earthwork, when
both of us went down with a thud. Quickly he picked up an overcoat and
covered me with it, and again in silence lay down by my side. In this
way I was taken out of the trenches on the back of an unknown soldier.
It was while being thus carried that my legs touched a corner of the
earthwork, and I felt excruciating pain for the first time. After a
while he whispered to me again, “As the shot are coming fast now, we
must wait a little.” He unsheathed his bayonet and bound it as a splint
to my broken leg with a Japanese towel. I was very thirsty and wanted
to drink; he gave me all that was left in his bottle, saying, “Don’t
drink much.” And also he soothed me often, saying, “Please be patient
awhile.” I saw many comrades groaning and writhing about me, and my
kind helper would pick up water bottles scattered over the place and
give them drink. Often he would feign death to escape the enemy’s eyes,
and lie down quickly, covering me with his body. I did not yet know
even the name of this chivalrous man.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“My name is Takesaburo Kondo,” he answered, in a whisper.
“Which regiment?”
“I am in the Kochi regiment.”
I was being saved by a gallant soldier, who was neither my subordinate,
nor of the same regiment as myself, and whom I had never seen before.
What mysterious thread of fortune bound him and me together? I could
not explain the mystery, but I do know that it was the friendly,
brotherly spirit pervading all ranks of our army that produced such a
man as Kondo, whose name should be handed down to posterity as a model
soldier and a heroic character. A few hours after I had been rescued, I
fell into a state of complete unconsciousness. When at last I recovered
my senses, the first thing that came to my mind was the beloved name of
Kondo.
Brave Takesaburo! He not only rescued me from the encircling enemy of
Wantai, but also with great difficulty carried me to our main position.
It was daytime and the place was exposed to the Russian machine-guns.
He himself was wounded. If he had left me there, me whose life was more
than uncertain, and escaped to a safe place by himself, things would
have been much simpler for him. But he had sworn to help me, and that
promise was more important to him than his own life. He braved every
danger, bore every difficulty, and with wonderful tact and sagacity
made use of every possible device in my rescue, and he was under no
personal obligation to me. For a while he covered and protected me with
his body, then he said to me:—
“Although a great many shot are still falling about us, we must not
stay here till night, or the enemy are sure to come and kill us. We
must go now. Please consider yourself already dead.”
He wrapped me up with an overcoat and beckoned to another soldier near
by. The wounded man came crawling to my side and, when he saw me, said:—
“Are you not Lieutenant Sakurai?”
I did not know who he was, but he must have been of the same regiment
as myself, since he knew me. He said to me, “How badly you are
injured!” and whispered with Takesaburo. Then I was carried away
by these two men and left behind me Wantai, now the grave of the
unconsoled spirits of my dear comrades, thinking all the time that
it was a great shame to go back alone, leaving the dead and wounded
friends behind. My two helpers would lie down every five or ten steps
as if they were dead, and try to deceive the enemy’s vigilance. While
being thus carried I felt no pain, only a very unpleasant grating of
broken bones. We went past wire-entanglements and breastworks, and in
the burning, straight, noonday rays of the sun, I was finally brought
to a ravine a little below the wire-entanglement, and I thought the
place was the foot of Kikuan.
I was laid down here for some time, and at last began to feel faint and
dizzy, and everything went out of my consciousness as in sleep. This
was caused by the profuse bleeding. At this time I was counted among
the dead; the report of my death reached home. My teacher, Mr. Murai,
placed the postal card I had written to him in the family shrine[59]
and offered to my spirit incense and flowers, as I have since been told.
For some hours I was practically dead in this ravine, but the gate of
the other world was still closed against me and I began to breathe once
more. The first thing that I heard was a tremendous noise of a heavy
cannon-ball falling near me, throwing up sand and pebbles, and covering
me with dust.
I felt that it was this roar that called my spirit back into this
world. As soon as I recovered consciousness, my wounds began to hurt
terribly. I tried to move my comparatively sound right leg, but it
would not move; the blood gushed out of it and coagulated over it. I
noticed that a sun flag was spread over my face as an awning and that
Takesaburo Kondo was still by my side watching me. I thanked him for
his faithful service with tears of gratitude.
He fastened poles to the overcoat wrapping me and begged four or five
wounded men who happened to come along to help carry me to the first
aid. Lifting a corner of the flag that covered my face, he said:
“Lieutenant, it seems that my wound is not a serious one, as I am
not going to the rear. Your case is serious. Please take good care of
yourself and become well again,” and he left me at last. I never saw
him again.
Did I take his hand and thank him for his gallant service? No; I
could not. I only wept for his goodness with unbounded gratitude in
my heart and prayed that he might be spared. “To share the shadow of
the same tree, to drink from the same stream of water,” is said to
be the promise of meeting again in another world. But he voluntarily
threw himself into the boiling caldron of danger and rescued me out of
certain death; he was truly the giver of my renewed life. My present
life is not mine at all; I should have died in Bodai surely: that I now
live is due to Takesaburo Kondo alone. Kondo was killed within a month
after this! His spirit is now too far away to see me, whom he rescued
amid such great difficulties and dangers. When I think of this I cannot
cry out my sorrow or talk about my sentiments, because both the cry and
the words become choked in my throat.
During the night four or five wounded soldiers took advantage of the
darkness to carry me past the enemy’s front to the first aid, which
they found with difficulty. I was still faint and in a dreamy state and
could not take in much; the only thing I remember is that I was put on
a stretcher, without removing overcoat and poles on which I had been
borne thus far. At last I was laid down in a spot where people were
busy running to and fro. That was indeed the first aid station. As soon
as I realized this, I cried out:—
“Is Surgeon Yasui here? Surgeon Ando?”
“I am Ando! Yasui is also here!” was the immediate response. I did not
expect to find these friends here, but simply called their names as in
a dream, the names so dear to my heart. But the strange, mysterious
thread that tied us together in friendship drew me to their place
and put me under their care—a thing that could never be planned or
mapped out in the battle-field, where separation and dispersion is so
universal a rule. Heaven granted me a chance to meet them in my time of
need. At this unexpected hearing of their voices my heart beat high.
“Surgeon Yasui! Surgeon Ando!”
They took my hands and stroked my forehead and said: “Well done. You
have done well.”
I noticed that the body of my battalion commander, Major Kamimura, was
lying to my left. When attacking the first skirmish-trenches, he was
standing in the farthest front and cheering us on. And that same brave
officer was now a spiritless corpse sleeping an eternal sleep here, his
servant clinging to his body, crying at the top of his voice.
Soon I was bandaged and sent to the rear, and had to say an unwilling
farewell to the two surgeon friends whom I had come across to my
unexpected and unbounded joy!
When I met Surgeon Yasui later, he told me something of my condition at
the time I was taken to the first aid:—
“The position of that first aid station was such that none of us
expected to find any of the wounded of our detachment brought there;
yet I was enabled to take care of you; that is the strangest of strange
happenings. I had asked about you of the wounded men as they came in,
and all said that you must be dead. There was one even who affirmed
that you were killed below the wire-entanglements of Kikuan. So I
had concluded that I should never see you again in this world of the
living, but wishing to recover your body, I made careful inquiries
about where you were killed—all to no purpose. Later, a sergeant by the
name of Sadaoka came in, and I asked him about you and got the answer
that you had been killed in the ravine of Kikuan. At once I dispatched
some hospital orderlies to bring your body back on a stretcher, but it
was too dark, and the enemy’s fire was still violent, and they came
back without accomplishing anything. Still anxious to get you, I sent
out a second group of orderlies, who brought you back, still living,
to our great surprise and joy. At the first glance we thought that you
must die in a few hours, and Surgeon Ando and I looked at each other
in sorrow. Therefore, when we sent you on to the field hospital, of
course we thought it was an eternal good-by in disguise.
“About a month after that I saw Takesaburo Kondo, who had rescued you,
and a strange coincidence it was. I noticed a soldier passing our first
aid station, shouldering a shovel. Suddenly the man fell face upward.
I ran to the spot and saw that it was your Takesaburo Kondo. He was a
special object of my respect and love, because I knew that he had saved
you out of the enemy’s grip. He was still breathing faintly, so I gave
him a drink from my water bottle; then he smiled and expired in peace.”
Thus the giver of my second life, Takesaburo Kondo, lost his noble life
by a stray shot!
* * * * *
Our first general attack came to a close with these horrors. The second
and the third repeated similar scenes or even more horrible ones. But
our army was not discouraged; on the contrary, the repeated failures
only added to their keen determination and abundant resourcefulness.
Our army attacked again and again the desperately defending enemy, and
at last took the great fortress. I have no right to speak about the
investment of Port Arthur after this first assault. There are others
better fitted to relate that great chapter of the war. For about three
hundred days after this I was kept in bed, unable to move my hands or
to stand on my feet. But in the agony of physical pain I was running
to Liaotung in imagination, picturing to myself the brave and loyal
officers and men fighting gallantly in the field. And on the second
day of the Happy New Year of the 38th of Meiji I heard the news that
the great fortress of Port Arthur, considered the strongest east of
Suez, and the formidable base for the Russian policy of the aggression
on Eastern Asia, no longer able to resist the tremendous power of the
Imperial forces, had capitulated, and its commanding general had given
himself up to the mercy of General Nogi. When I heard this news, not
only I, but all the wounded who had taken part in the siege, wept while
we rejoiced. The bleached white bones of our brave dead that filled the
hills and valleys of Port Arthur must have risen and danced with joy!
The spirits of those loyal ones who died unconsoled, crying “Revenge!”
or “Port Arthur!” must have been lulled to eternal rest by this great
news.
When I heard of the capitulation of Port Arthur, I cried with an
overwhelming joy, and at the same time there came to me the thought of
the great number of my dead comrades. I who had had the misfortune of
sacrificing the lives of so many of my men on the battle-field, how
could I apologize to their loyal spirits? I who left many brethren on
the field and came back alone to save my life, how could I see without
shame the faces of their surviving relatives?
* * * * *
The war is now over, the storm has ceased! The blood of brave warriors
has bought this peace. The time may come when the hills of Port Arthur
are razed to the ground and the river of Liaotung is dried up, but the
time will never come when the names of the hundreds of thousands of
those loyal officers and patriotic soldiers who gave their lives to
the sovereign and to the country will be forgotten. Their names shall
be fragrant for a thousand years and lighten ten thousand ages; their
merits posterity shall gratefully remember for ever and ever!
APPENDICES
APPENDIX A
THE IMPERIAL RESCRIPT ON EDUCATION
KNOW ye, Our subjects:
Our Imperial Ancestors have founded Our Empire on a basis broad and
everlasting and have deeply and firmly implanted virtue; Our subjects
ever united in loyalty and filial piety have from generation to
generation illustrated the beauty thereof. This is the glory of the
fundamental character of Our Empire, and herein also lies the source of
Our education. Ye, Our subjects, be filial to your parents, affectionate
to your brothers and sisters; as husbands and wives be harmonious, as
friends true; bear yourselves in modesty and moderation; extend your
benevolence to all; pursue learning and cultivate arts, and thereby
develop intellectual faculties and perfect moral powers; furthermore
advance public good and promote common interests; always respect the
Constitution and observe the laws; should emergency arise, offer
yourselves courageously to the State; and thus guard and maintain the
prosperity of Our Imperial Throne coeval with heaven and earth. So shall
ye not only be Our good and faithful subjects, but render illustrious
the best traditions of your forefathers.
The way here set forth is indeed the teaching bequeathed by Our
Imperial Ancestors, to be observed alike by Their Descendants and
subjects, infallible for all ages and true in all places. It is Our wish
to lay it to heart in all reverence, in common with you, Our subjects,
that we may all thus attain to the same virtue.
The 30th day of the 10th month of the 23d year of Meiji.
[Imperial Sign Manual. Imperial Seal.]
APPENDIX B
IMPERIAL RESCRIPT TO THE ARMY AND NAVY
THE Army of this country, in ancient times, stood from generation
to generation under the supreme command of the Emperor. More than
two thousand five hundred years have passed since the time when the
Emperor Jimmu suppressed the barbarian tribes of the central provinces,
and established himself on his Imperial Throne. The expedition was
under the supreme command of the Emperor himself, and was composed of
warriors of Otomo and Mononobe, the most illustrious warrior-clans of
the day.
Military reorganization often was necessitated in subsequent ages by
the vicissitudes of the times and the needs of the country’s wars; but
throughout Our ancient history, the Emperor was always the regular
commander. His place in the field was sometimes taken by the queen
or the crown prince, but the supreme command of the Army was never
intrusted to a subject.
In the Middle Ages all administrative matters, whether military or
civil, were copied from China: six garrisons were organized, and two
depots for horses, and a system of frontier guards were likewise
established. The organization of the army was thus excellent on paper;
but the long continuance of peace ruined the efficiency of the army,
farmers and soldiers became two distinct classes.
The warriors imperceptibly changed into a professional caste, popularly
called _bushi_, the principal men of which became the permanent leaders
of the army; and the general chaos of the national life placed the
chief powers of the Government in their hands, and kept them there for
close upon seven hundred years.
No human power could probably have arrested this turn of Our national
life; and yet it was a thing much to be regretted as being entirely out
of harmony with Our national constitution and the rules laid down by
Our ancestors.
After the periods of Kokwa (A. D. 1844) and Ka-ei (A. D. 1848) the
Government of the Tokugawa House became too feeble to bear the
responsibilities of national government, and a critical period was made
more critical by the petitions for admission and intercourse which came
from foreign nations. These circumstances caused great anxiety to Our
Grandfather, the Emperor Ninko, and Our Father, the late Emperor Komei.
When, not long afterwards, We ascended the throne in Our youth, the
Shogun Tokugawa returned his authority into Our hands, and the lesser
Barons likewise restored to Us their territories. Thus, in less than
one year, the whole country came once more under Our direct control,
and We were thus enabled to restore again the old system of Government.
This great result was due in part to the meritorious services of Our
loyal subjects of all classes who aided Us in the accomplishment of
this great work, and partly to the mercy which every Emperor of this
country has felt for Our people; but the basis of the whole work now
successfully accomplished has been the fact that Our people themselves
have a just knowledge of right and wrong and rightly apprehend the
meaning of true loyalty.
During the fifteen years that have elapsed since then, We have
reorganized Our military and naval system, and formed Our present army
and navy in order to make Our country glorious. The army and navy is
now under Our direct command, and though partial commands may from time
to time be intrusted to some of Our subjects, the supreme command will
always remain with Us. We desire you to remember this fact, and to let
your descendants know that the Emperor is Commander-in-Chief of the
Army and Navy, so that the country may never again have to go through
the ignominy of the Middle Ages.