THE BATTLE CONTINUES
At six o'clock on the 27th, as soon as the morning haze began to lift,
the battle was renewed, and the artillery duel commenced. The enemy's
fire was concentrated, as on the day before, principally on Prince
Chkheydsey's and Skridloff's batteries, which suffered heavily. The
morning was bright and sunny, and the light-green hill-slopes, tinted
golden by the rays of the early sun, looked anything but a suitable
background for the bloody events to come. Our infantry, sitting in
their trenches, which, having no head-cover of any sort, were scarcely
worthy of the name, awaited the commencement of the assault under a
heavy shell-fire. After being directed on to the valley behind us,
evidently to search out our reserves, the enemy's gun-fire slackened
and rifle-fire commenced; their infantry advanced. But the nearer they
came the more they suffered from our two batteries above-mentioned, and
they were forced to lie down and entrench. Meanwhile, some of our ships
had come out to assist us, but no sooner had they commenced to shell
the enemy's lines than, as on the day before, a superior force of the
enemy, appearing from behind Kepp Island, compelled them to withdraw to
Port Arthur. One result was that the _Bayan_ struck a mine, and was so
seriously damaged that she had to be towed into the eastern basin for
considerable repairs. At four in the afternoon the enemy's guns again
got to work, and at 5 p.m. the fourth attack began. When the sun sank
down below the hills, Green Hills still remained in our possession,
High Hill and Semaphore Hill were lost; but the Japanese were nearer,
and entrenched, ready for further efforts on the following day. So
close were they in some places that we could hear their conversation.
The day was ours, for we still held Green Hills; but how about the
morrow? It was impossible to hold the seven miles length of the right
flank with so few guns and men. Our reserves were reduced to one
company of sailors and half a company of infantry, and Port Arthur sent
no help.
A little later on the Japanese dashed forward and broke through
the line--through the very place where Kondratenko had stopped the
retirement yesterday. The last of the reserve was immediately sent
up, and after some desperate fighting drove the enemy back. But now
the reserve was used up, and what were we to do? Naumenko telephoned
to Seven-mile Station to say that, to enable us to hold our position
to-morrow, more troops must be sent to us; but the reply was vague and
unsatisfactory. Through the night the enemy continued to seize and
entrench advantageous points, while our men, utterly exhausted from the
two days' battle and weakened by heavy losses, were in a bad way.
It seemed, under the circumstances, as if it would be impossible to
hold on next day, and therefore best that the rear-guard action we
should have to fight should be planned out at once and the successive
positions selected. Kondratenko, who with Semenoff was moving about
all night from one point to another, recognized this; but no definite
reply could be got through the telephone, and he did not like to give
orders for a retirement on his own account. At last, within a couple
of hours of dawn, Kondratenko had to decide, and he decided that a
withdrawal was the only thing to be done. Accordingly, orders were
sent to Butusoff to retire, and the route to be followed was told him.
These he received only just in time. I had gone to the staff to find
out how soon the withdrawal would commence, and found Naumenko still at
the telephone, cursing at the impossibility of getting either orders or
anything definite. Having other things to see after, he handed me the
receiver, saying: 'Tell them we have begun to retire.' I rang and rang,
and at last, after about ten minutes, got through:
'General Kondratenko directs me to ask you to tell General Fock that
the withdrawal of the right flank has commenced.'
At four o'clock Kondratenko looked at his watch, and calculating that
by now ordering the general retirement from Green Hills, Butusoff
would have been given time to withdraw from High Hill and occupy a
fresh position in rear, he decided to proceed. Just as he was giving
the actual order to retire, a note was received from Fock: 'I am
withdrawing; you can do as you like.' This masterpiece of military
co-operation has been carefully preserved, and is now in Colonel
Semenoff's possession.
Under cover of the morning haze, the first and the most difficult
part of the retirement was carried out in perfect order and with
inconsiderable loss, and our troops took up the new line from the
village of Khodziatun to the seashore, along the heights running down
into the Lunwantun Valley. The sun then came out and dissipated the
mist. Instead of the panic on our part which the enemy expected, they
ran up against our infantry holding new positions, and knew that our
guns also would open on them from fresh points. During our abandonment
of Green Hills they had got into difficulties on our left, for they had
tumbled on to our mines. One caused immense loss, blowing a whole crowd
of them to pieces, and this, with one or two smaller explosions, put
such fear into them that we were able to get our machine-guns away at
leisure.
The moment it was light the enemy shelled the positions which yesterday
had been occupied by our batteries, but which were now empty. To
discover our new gun positions was not so easy; for experience had
now taught us how to take advantage of the ground and how to mask our
artillery. At 7 a.m. the fresh companies, so urgently asked for during
the night, began to arrive from Arthur to cover the further retirement.
Bands were playing, and the enemy could not make out whether we were
still retiring or were moving to the attack. With us everything was in
perfect order; camp kitchens were smoking, and backwards and forwards
along the road carts, rickshaws, and stretchers were moving. This
was not what the enemy expected after a two-day battle; they thought
Kinchou would be repeated.
The further retirement towards Arthur began punctually at 11 a.m.,
when, covered by a heavy gun and rifle fire, the companies gradually
withdrew in perfect order. The enemy pressed our rear-guard hard, but
could effect nothing, and by noon we were in sight of the forts. Some
of the troops marched direct towards the fortress; others took up the
last advanced position on the right flank on the hills of Ta-ku-shan to
Sia-gu-shan. Behind Ta-ku-shan commenced the fortress rayon, and the
position on it was the last advanced defensive point, and, in connexion
with the positions on Wolf's Hills, was of great importance for the
further defence of Arthur. Thus did the right flank, under Kondratenko,
fight on the 26th and 27th, and retire on July 28. Let us see how
General Fock's command--the left flank--fared during these days.
It was noticed on the evening of the 25th that the enemy, in
considerable force, was moving across out of Dalny towards this flank.
Night passed quietly. Early next morning the Japanese began to press
our outposts, which were forced in from the villages of Khumuchino and
Khukhaia. The hills all round were enveloped in mist, and from the main
position nothing was visible. By 5 a.m. it began to clear, and from
Hill 113 it could be seen that the enemy was massing at the village of
Sakaiza. Tents were struck and the trenches quickly manned, the cold
morning air refreshing the men, tired out with continued outpost work.
The mist lifted, and above the horizon of the Pacific Ocean appeared
the copper-red segment of the rising sun. The enemy's artillery fire
began to develop about 5.30 a.m., and the day's fighting commenced upon
Hills 94 and 125, the former being seized by the enemy. We allowed them
to mass there, and then swept them off again by our fire from Hill 125.
At seven o'clock fifteen companies could be seen advancing in columns
in the valley near the village of Khukhaia, close to Upilazy. They
were moving towards Hill 125, and as soon as they came under fire they
could be seen to extend in successive lines, one battalion remaining
in reserve. Having extended, they steadily and quickly advanced to the
attack in eleven lines. The distance between their firing-line and Hill
125 quickly decreased. Our men calmly watched them advancing.
'Don't fire without the order,' said the officer in command.
'Wait for the word of command,' repeated the section commanders.
'Twelve hundred!'
'Twelve hundred!' again echoed the section leaders.
The men were dying to fire, but waited quietly, though the shrapnel was
screaming over them.
'Section, present--fire!'
'Section, present--fire!'
Volley followed volley, and the machine-guns vomited bullets. The
enemy's firing-line could be seen to falter; then the second line
melted into it. On they came. Our volleys rang out more frequently,
but did not stop the advance; the third line melted into the remnants
of the first two. Over our heads shots were screaming and on all sides
wounded men were groaning; but the others paid no attention: they heard
nothing but
'Section, present--fire!'
The Japanese were now close. As a line began to waver, it was
reinforced and carried forward by the next in rear, and so it went on,
fresh lines after lines appearing as if there was no end to them. Their
firing-line now began to crawl up the hill from all sides. Volleys gave
way to 'independent'--crack, crack, crack all round, and the deafening
rat-tat-tat of the machine-gun. Now the range was point-blank, the crew
of our machine-gun were all down--but--the enemy were repulsed. While
they gathered down below for a fresh effort, their guns poured a hail
of high-explosive shell on to our trenches, and did their work so well
that our trenches were thick with wounded. Their infantry rallied, and
again came on in swarms. At noon, though we had only 40 men left out
of 150, our men gallantly held their ground. The foe crawled up on all
sides; they showed up on the ridge, and dashed in with the bayonet. One
of them, mad with fanaticism, got on to the top, shouting: 'How are
you, Russkys?'
'Good-bye, Japanese,' was the answer given, as a bayonet was driven
through his body, and he was hurled--a flabby mass--over the edge.
But now the hill was surrounded on all sides, and it was impossible
to hold out much longer. Burnevitch sent for reinforcements, and the
men, expecting that they would come every moment, held out for another
hour. Notwithstanding their numbers, the enemy could not gain the hill.
At last an order was received from Colonel Savitsky 'to retire' on
to Height 113. The withdrawal was effected, and then the men worked
right through the night to make cover, having during the day learnt
the value of good bomb-proofs--if they would not give protection from
high-explosive shells, they would at least save them from the splinters.
As soon as it began to get light the outpost line, which had been
thrown out the evening before round Hill 113, was called in, and, in
expectation of a repetition of the previous day's artillery slaughter,
the men were told to take cover in the bomb-proofs. Those destroyed
by yesterday's fire had been repaired during the night, for it was
recognised that this Hill 113 was the key to the Suantsegan position.
At 5 a.m. on the 27th the first shot was fired by a Japanese battery
in action behind Inchenzy Station, and the second day's battle had
begun. Thinking that we had abandoned the hill, the enemy's infantry
advanced to take it, but being hurled back by volleys at close range,
they retired to a distance and their guns got to work, and so the
bombardment continued till 1 p.m., their gunboats assisting.
The battle for possession of these hills was severe, and the coolness
of our men was remarkable. If any of them ran away or if any panic set
in, it was the fault of the officers, for any officer whom the men
respect and love in peace-time can rely on their steadiness in war.
How many Russian officers know and care for their men? For some reason
or other they rarely mix among them and know nothing of them or their
habits, and bitter are the fruits they reap in war.
In two hours not a vestige of trench remained. The bomb-proofs had kept
out the field-gun shells, but were useless against the high explosive.
At last an order was received that the little force on Hill 113 was to
retire, and taking their dead and wounded, they made their way back
under a heavy shrapnel fire. So it went on--the enemy pressing--gradual
retirements by us from hill to hill. At night, when the fighting
ceased, we were holding the line of Hills 139, 127 and Upilazy. Star
after star came out and twinkled in the darkening sky, looking down
on the awful shambles, while General Stössel, intoxicated with the
'success' of the two-day battle, congratulated everyone, ordered the
bands to play and the troops to cheer, and himself left Seven-mile
Station for Arthur to rest.
At a council of war in the evening it was decided to accept battle on
the third day. But not a _single unit_ was sent up to the front, the
condition of the line on the right on which the real weight of the
fighting had fallen was not ascertained. There was no co-ordination as
regards command. Each acted independently--Fock on his own account,
Kondratenko on his. The only cohesion was expressed in Stössel's
categorical order 'to hold on.' That all the 'big wigs' expected us to
hold on next day is clear from the fact that when Stössel left after
supper that night for Arthur, he made his favourite Savitsky promise
to come into Arthur next day to celebrate his 'name's day.' With the
departure of the Officer Commanding the District, the staff rested on
its laurels and did not worry about arranging for a retirement. The
officers commanding independent units and sections of the line had no
idea what to do in the event of the unexpected happening, and as our
line was spread out for twelve miles in hill country, the unexpected
was, to be paradoxical, to be expected. The troops themselves never
dreamed that the morning would see a retirement: they were full of
confidence and, forgiving him his mistake at Kinchou, still believed in
Fock.
Their confidence was entirely misplaced, however, for though the
General had agreed at the Council of War to continue fighting on the
third day, he did not do so. He suddenly retired.
Kondratenko had been ordered to hold on to the right flank, which, had
he been reinforced, he would have done. This sudden retreat of the left
therefore might have left him entirely unsupported, and have resulted
in the annihilation of his force which would have been taken in flank.
Daybreak came; the telephone rang, and orderlies rode up with the
order to retire! This order and the suddenness with which it was
delivered stunned the force on the left flank, who so little expected
it. Confidence turned to fear, fear to disorder--so much so that the
withdrawal turned into a panic-stricken rush to the rear, similar to
the retreat to Nangalin.
How different from Kondratenko's orderly retirement!
All round for many miles was now a scene of complete disorder. Units,
not having received any orders, retreated as each of their commanding
officers thought best. It was a case of every one for himself; and to
do full justice to the younger commanders and to the men, I should say
that the fact that this retirement did not in all cases turn into a
shameful and panic-stricken flight was largely due to them: that things
were not worse was also greatly due to the indecision shown by the
enemy. Had they energetically pursued, as they did on the right flank,
individual commanding officers could not in the surrounding chaos have
prevented a panic, and the troops, with Fock at their head, would
have passed by Wolf's Hills and have appeared in Arthur that evening.
Despite his extreme dislike for the Wolf's Hills position, the enemy's
indecision compelled Fock to occupy it, but only temporarily.
When the force reached these hills and saw the trenches, they found a
fresh surprise in store for them. They had been previously dug without
any care, not on the slopes of the hills which it was necessary to
hold, but at their foot: there was no communication between them,
and the flat ground in front was densely covered with kiaoling the
height of a man. As none of the crop had been cut, large numbers
would be able to creep through it unseen, right up to our trenches,
and hurling themselves upon us, might drive us out of them. Any
retirement, also, would have to be made up the slopes and would be
quite exposed. However, there was no time to dig elsewhere when the
enemy's attack was expected at any moment. The men were more tired from
the disorganization than from fighting or from privations, and on this
particular evening the General's depressing influence on his division
was more than ever noticeable. Officers and men looked with confidence
only towards the Fortress and its forts; they felt that this chaos
would end there. The Division knew that it was commanded by a man who
was not equal to the task, and who would spoil everything.
By evening all the positions were occupied, and if the divisional staff
had happened to mix amongst the bivouacs, and to hear what was being
said in the trenches, they would have learned much to their advantage.
The orders of the Officer Commanding the District for the night of July
28 were interesting, as showing his absolute ignorance of the situation.
Our troops, now occupying these trenches, such as they were, expected
every moment to be attacked, and passed an anxious night. From the
Japanese lines we heard nothing, for, true to their usual tactics,
the enemy, having thrown out outposts, were resting in calmness and
confidence. Their victory on our left flank had been quickly and
easily obtained: their leaders were competent and trusted. Indeed, from
the time of their landing in the peninsula things had gone without a
hitch. At dawn on the 29th they commenced a forward movement. In front
of us, taller than a man's height, grew the dense kiaoling: it was
so high that it was only by the wavy movement of its surface that it
was possible to tell if the enemy were there. All we could do was to
fire volleys into it; but whenever we thought we must have done much
damage--there was the movement again. In one place they got up so close
that it was only by the great gallantry of our infantry that our guns
escaped capture.
On July 29 we had the following order:
'Colonel Grigorenko and the officers under him will be good enough
to arrange for the immediate construction of durable bomb-proofs on
Wolf's Hills. Even though they work twenty-four hours in the day,
this must be done, as it is vitally important.
'(Signed by order).
'Reuss, Colonel,
'Chief of the Staff.'
No head cover had been provided along the line of improvised
trenches, and but few paths had been made on the slopes. The enemy
were concentrating steadily, at any minute the artillery preparation
might commence, and then the assault would follow. Everything pointed
to an immediate attack, and yet here was our staff, in their usual
short-sighted manner, writing of bomb-proofs--bomb-proofs whose
construction required much labour and time. This order made many
think that the authorities had decided to hold the positions for good
[especially as a long line of two-wheeled carts left Arthur with wood,
rails, and iron-sheeting], and the men set to work to carry it out, but
they had no time. At 2 a.m. on the 30th the Japanese, taking advantage
of the natural cover afforded by the crops, attacked in force, and
before it was properly light the assault was in full swing. The
assaulting columns hid in the kiaoling, and our men in the trenches at
the foot of the hills could see nothing but the sea of grain in front
of them until the waving stalks parted and the enemy suddenly dashed
out.
Blinded and shut in as they were, subject to heavy shrapnel and
high-explosive shell-fire, and with an unseen enemy at close quarters,
would it have been surprising if our men had fled in panic? Talking
afterwards to prisoners, the Japanese officers said openly that if they
themselves had been entrusted with the organization of the defence of
these hills, and told to make it as easy as possible for the attackers,
they could not have done it better than we Russians had done it for
them. As soon as the assault began Colonel Laperoff poured a hot fire
into the assaulting columns from his guns above, which caused the
Japanese heavy losses, in spite of their invisibility. But they came
on irresistibly, and by midday our retirement had begun. They forced
in particular that portion of the line held by the 13th East Siberian
Rifle Regiment. In the afternoon, when the assault was pressed with
greater fury, our troops began to quit the position so hurriedly that
the guns were left without infantry escort, and nearly fell into the
enemy's hands. This all happened in sight of the permanent forts
of Port Arthur. As Wolf's Hills were so close to the rayon of the
Fortress, we might have been protected by its heavy guns, which could
have shelled the enemy in front of this position and more or less have
paralysed his advance by enfilade fire from the north-east front.
But, thanks to the plan of retirement not having been communicated to
Smirnoff, the batteries and forts of Port Arthur did not co-operate in
the action.
Having seized Wolf's Hills, the enemy did not pursue further. This
caution was quite comprehensible, as directly in rear of these were a
number of exposed depressions, where they would have come under the
fire of the Fortress guns.
With the loss of this position began the close investment of Port
Arthur.