THE LAST OF DALNY
When Dalny heard the heavy fire from the direction of Kinchou early in
the morning, little did the people think how that day would end for
them. Afraid of what would happen, they had some weeks before asked
permission to leave for Port Arthur; but Stössel had strictly refused,
and had even sent back one or two families which had started: he had
told the Mayor that there was nothing to be alarmed about, that he
would send word directly there was any need for them to move. The
sound of firing increased, but the town remained quiet--life moved
along the usual track. Even if some felt doubtful as to the result of
the battle, there was no idea that the 26th would be the last day for
them in Dalny. Midday came; the distant firing slackened off, then
increased, and the curious collected on the church tower to see what
was happening, for no information had been received from the staff of
the district. [Stössel was about that time celebrating his 'victory,'
not thinking of Dalny.] The sun sank in the west and evening came on;
still no news, and complete ignorance as to what was happening at
Kinchou. Evening changed to night; the electric lights blazed up in the
streets, and Dalny went to bed.
At ten o'clock the last train but one departed from the station. At
eleven the empty waggons returned from Nangalin, and brought news of
what had happened at Kinchou. Almost at the same time two telegrams
were received. One, to the Mayor from Colonel Yolshin, ran as follows:
'The Officer Commanding the District has sanctioned the departure of
the inhabitants from Dalny, but not by rail.'
The other telegram was from the District Staff to the same effect,
saying that as the trains were required for troops, they could not be
used to move civilians. The sleeping town woke up; the police began
to arouse the inhabitants, who, greatly alarmed, ran into the streets
half dressed, to know what had happened. The news soon spread that our
troops had hurriedly retired to Arthur, and that the Japanese cavalry
might at any moment enter the town.
Then began an awful and indescribable panic, for the seeds sown by
imagination on the soil of fear are prolific. A massacre by the
Japanese or Hunhuses was expected. Men, women, and children wandered
helplessly and aimlessly about the town, not knowing what to do. Many
rushed to the station, only to be told that the railway would not take
them. There were practically no horses in the place.
By midnight the majority of the residents had collected on the
Upravlensk Square, where the Mayor, having told them of the telegram
received from Stössel, proposed that they should abandon the town; he
said that he would not be responsible for any that remained. Then the
unfortunate inhabitants, leaving all their property to its fate, set
out along the shore front towards Shaopingtao. Some were able to hire
rickshaws, but the majority went on foot. Those who happened to see
the unfortunate women, half dressed, bareheaded and barefooted, with
crying children in their arms, will never forget the awful picture;
and it might have all been avoided if General Stössel had listened to
the constant representations made by the Mayor with regard to a timely
departure. All those 470 men, 92 women, and 57 children who hurriedly
left Dalny on the night of May 26 owe their misery to General Stössel.
As the flight commenced the Mayor received this last and most
noteworthy telegram:
'General Stössel desires you immediately to blow up all the waggons
and trucks remaining in Dalny.'
Staff-Captain Zedgenidsey was ordered to Dalny to demolish all the
buildings which might be valuable to the Japanese, as, for instance,
the breakwaters, docks, cranes, floating material, railway, etc.; but,
owing to want of time, nothing, except a few of the railway bridges,
was blown up, and all fell into the enemy's hands in complete order.
They also got more than 250 waggons and 300 trucks, all full. Besides
the numerous town, harbour, and railway buildings, there was an immense
amount of private house property, as well as large warehouses stocked
with food and stores of all sorts, both public and private. The enemy
got possession of them all undamaged, just as they were. After the
capture of Arthur the Japanese confessed that by not destroying Dalny
we had assisted them enormously in their difficult task of disembarking
their siege-train, and that the railway had enabled them easily to get
it into position in the investing lines. Russia had spent over £200,000
in breakwaters for the Japanese to land 11-inch howitzers!
The electric lights now shone down on empty streets, for Dalny was
deserted. At two o'clock in the morning the last train, a long one
of forty-seven waggons, left the station for Nangalin, and early on
the morning of the 28th, after more than twenty-four hours' march,
the tired and hungry refugees began to straggle into Arthur. Those
Arthurites who happened to see this sorrowful procession arrive opened
a subscription list to assist these wretched people, who in one night
had lost their homes and everything they possessed.
We have often talked over and discussed the result of Stössel's reign,
and what he did or did not do during February, March, April, and
May, and there is little doubt that he might, by taking reasonable
precautions and by wise and timely action as to the choice and
fortification of positions, have delayed the fall of the Fortress at
least till June 1, 1905.