THE LOSS OF TA-KU-SHAN HILL
And so the strict blockade of the Fortress, which we had dreaded,
had now commenced in grim reality. No sooner had we abandoned Wolf's
Hills than the civil population, who felt sure that the fall of the
Fortress itself could not now be long postponed, were seized with
fresh panic. They had lost confidence in our power of resistance, and
those who could afford it, at once took steps to charter Chinese junks
for their conveyance to Chifu. The District Staff, being incapable
of dealing with the situation, said, in reply to all inquiries, that
they had nothing to do with the civil population, who should go to
the Commandant. Every one, accordingly, hurried to the Fortress Staff
Office, where those who had the right to go away were at once given
permission to leave, and we, accordingly, soon saw a long line of
carriages stretching along the road to Pigeon Bay. The majority of
these, however, returned after a few days, as the Japanese would allow
no junks to leave. A few did succeed in evading the enemy's guard-ships
and got away to sea; the others were stopped and had to make for land.
Meanwhile there was no news from the north.
On August 4 we had the usual church parade and march past, and the
usual martial speech to the troops from General Stössel. The sun
was shining, and to see this collection of gaily-dressed ladies and
glittering uniforms, one would not have said that an enemy was
crouching below the hills within view of the heedless crowd. Its
indifference was curious. Was it submission to fate, trust in luck, or
stupidity?
The first bombardment from the land side began suddenly on August 7. It
was a glorious day, and the churches were filled with crowds attending
a service to pray for the safety of Port Arthur, when the booming of
guns and shriek of shells commenced. Alarm was at once visible among
the kneeling congregation, who got up, then again knelt down. The
priest in a trembling voice brought the service to an abrupt end, and
every one dispersed in search of safety. The bombardment continued all
day, though doing little material damage.
Next morning, from 2 to 5 a.m., we heard heavy musketry fire from the
direction of Ta-ku-shan: the enemy, leaving the town and the main
defences in peace, were turning their attention to it. This hill
corresponded in the east to 203 Metre Hill in the west, and was equally
important and equally unfortified. It and Sia-gu-shan, the natural
forts of Arthur on the eastern front, had a bad time. In the first
place, they had not been made the most of, for in the original plan
of defence of Port Arthur they had not been thought to be important
points, and so had been neither fortified nor armed as their position
with regard to the Fortress warranted, and Smirnoff had only recently
succeeded in arming them to a small extent. In the second place, they
became, after the abandonment of Wolf's Hills, open to flanking fire,
and therefore untenable. The companies of the 13th East Siberian Rifle
Regiment sent there went literally to their death, but, together with
the gunners, they held on as long as possible. As Ta-ku-shan was not
a fort or even a semi-permanent work, but only an artillery position,
without casemates or splinter-proofs in which the defenders could get
protection during the artillery preparation, it can be easily imagined
what the place was like when the enemy turned on to it the fire of both
big and small guns. At eight in the evening the last small force on the
right flank retired behind the main line of works after a desperate
fight. The Japanese attacked fiercely in dense masses, and also pounded
the whole of the eastern front, as well as some of the shore batteries.
When they at length did succeed in getting possession of Ta-ku-shan and
Sia-gu-shan, after heavy loss, we in our turn concentrated such a heavy
gun-fire on those hills that they were unable to effect their object of
building batteries.
Later in the evening I climbed up on to Golden Hill Battery to see
what was to be seen. During supper a telephone message was received
instructing us to open fire at once on Ta-ku-shan, firing at intervals
of five minutes. Captain Zeitz, who was in command, immediately set to
work at the chart and got out the range. Above, men began moving about
the guns, while we remained below, sitting in the concrete casemate,
which, in spite of its solidity, had been penetrated by a 12-inch shell
during the sea bombardment. When after five minutes the battery opened
fire with its 11-inch monsters the lamps in the casemate were at once
extinguished, and several of the table utensils were smashed by the
blast through the open hatch. Hatches and doors were then shut, but to
little purpose, for almost every discharge put out the lights and the
noise was deafening. I went up on to the battery, and found it quite
dark, though the howitzers, their muzzles cocked up, showed clearly
against the white masonry. The howitzer crews were moving about with
lanterns.
'Number 1!' A streak of flame, a stunning roar, and away sped the steel
messenger with its ever-lessening scream up into the air.
Down below in the casemate the telephone rang.
'Short, sir. Please shell the slopes _towards_ the enemy,' was the
message.
'Number 2!' Again the roar and shock.
One could scarcely distinguish the shots being fired from the
neighbouring sea batteries. Uncle Moshinsky had opened fire, and,
further off, Cape Flat and Cross Hill also; in fact, the whole front
was rumbling with noise.
'Sir, that shell fell on the saddle of Ta-ku-shan. You are requested
to shell the slopes _towards the enemy_,' again came on the telephone.
Captain Zeitz ran down below into the casemate. After consulting the
outspread map, he dashed up again and altered the sighting.
'Number 3!' Every five minutes a shot boomed out.
Going to the edge of the glacis, I looked over the steep precipice
dropping down to the water. On the sea everything was quiet; the
horizon was clear, and nothing was to be seen on the watery expanse
lit up by the searchlights. Turning round, I saw the smooth edge of
the hill; at an equal distance one from another, the four evil-looking
mouths of the howitzers. Two minutes had passed since the last shot;
everything in the battery was quiet and dark, and I was alone on the
glacis. Down below stretched the town, buried in darkness, with no sign
of light or life in street or house; it might have been a city of the
dead. Suddenly the battery was lighted up as if it were day: a pillar
of flame flashed from the mouth of one of the howitzers, and the blast
swept up the pebbles from the ground and hurled them over the cliff.
I went back into the casemate, and found it hot and stuffy. The
majority of officers were lying down, as was every one in the battery
above, with the exception of Zeitz; but it was impossible to sleep,
because of the deafening noise of each shot. I sat down to the table
close to a lamp and began to read over my daily 'News' for the _Novy
Kry_. The telephone rang, and orders came that we were to cease fire
for half an hour. In the distance shots became fewer and fewer, and in
the battery noise gave place to silence. For three hours incessantly
the whole of the shore front from Golden Hill had bellowed at
Ta-ku-shan.
Next day I was permitted to accompany General Smirnoff upon his
inspection, and had the good luck to witness our attempt to recapture
Ta-ku-shan. Before giving me permission to accompany him, however,
he warned me that by being with him I should probably earn Stössel's
ill-will. We first visited A Battery, where the garrison was taking
cover from the enemy's rifle fire, and whence we could see the Japs
moving about on the hill. Having given his instructions here, the
General rode on, and we descended along the road leading from the
Fortress into Dalny, where we found ourselves exposed to Ta-ku-shan,
and bullets whistled overhead one after another. Smirnoff began to go
slower, as if on purpose. Passing through the deep ravine towards B
Battery, we saw a group of officers in the distance, amongst whom was
General Gorbatovsky. On reaching the battery General Smirnoff gave
orders for all the guns on the eastern front to open fire immediately,
and for the companies which had been told off to advance and attack
Ta-ku-shan. On the hill itself nothing was now visible; the Japanese
had hidden. Our batteries were covering it with shrapnel and common
shell, which we could see bursting on the slopes.
'Colonel Tokhateloff, order the batteries to shell the top of the hill
and behind it: there is certain to be a number of the enemy there. What
is the good of firing on the near slope?' said Smirnoff.
The Colonel dashed down into the casemate. He tried to telephone to
the further batteries, but could not manage it, as the central exchange
would not answer.
'Put me on to A Battery! A Battery! I say, are you all mad? A Battery!
A! A! A!'
At last the exchange replied, but time was flying, and the shells,
instead of bursting on the top of the position, were still falling on
the near slopes. At last those from A Battery began to reach the saddle
of the hill.
'Ah! that's right; but only one battery has got the range. Pass the
word to the others at once. What are they looking at?' said Smirnoff,
getting angry.
Tokhateloff was beside himself; he shouted from the top to the nearest
battery, and gave orders to transmit by semaphore. At last they all
concentrated their fire on the top of the hill.
It was here and now that I for the first time realized practically
the splendid inefficiency of our Fortress telephone system. Owing to
its construction, the officer commanding a section of the Fortress
artillery not only was unable to issue simultaneous orders to all the
batteries under him, but could not even get through quickly to any one
of them. In the central exchange they well knew that the Commandant
himself was in B Battery on this occasion, and was personally directing
the fire. And if it was not even possible for him to issue urgent
orders in such a case, what must have happened when a mere section
commander wanted to transmit an important order to one of the batteries
under him? In some cases messengers actually went and returned before
the stations were connected through.
The sun was fairly high when our infantry firing-line got near to the
foot of the hill. Our artillery fire had intensified to prepare their
way, and the hill-top was hidden by bursting shell. The moment for
the assault was at hand, and we all nervously watched the attacking
columns. By midday they had begun to ascend the hill, and were with
difficulty climbing up the spurs under a burning sun.
'Colonel Tokhateloff, tell the guns to cease fire,' said Smirnoff.
Again the Colonel dashed down to carry out the order, a by no means
easy task for a corpulent person like himself, and after a long time at
the telephone, and much semaphoring, the fire gradually began to stop.
The interesting phase of the attack had begun, and in the battery
and far beyond, to left and to right, there was the silence of
expectation--the attention of the whole front was directed on the hill,
of which our infantry had now seized half. We could see them crawling
up higher and higher. Suddenly, from a ravine on the left slope of the
hill appeared a column of the enemy, which quickly moved against the
flank of our infantry, who, not seeing them, continued to press upwards.
'Sir, sir,' shouted every one, 'look! there are the Japanese!'
'Open fire with shrapnel,' commanded Smirnoff. We watched the Japanese
intently, and could clearly see them climbing up, with an officer in
front waving a sword.
'Open fire, open fire quickly; a good shot would mow them down,' said
Smirnoff angrily.
Captain Vakhneieff tried to get the range.
'No. 1!' It was short.
'No. 2!'
'No. 3!'
Still they dashed forward, though some were seen to fall.
'Why are the other batteries silent? Pass the word to the other
batteries,' shouted Gorbatovsky.
Behind us Zaliterny Battery, high up on the hill, opened fire, as did
one other battery on the left. But further to the left and on the right
there was silence; either these batteries did not see the enemy, or
they were asleep. Colonel Tokhateloff, despairing of transmitting the
necessary order by telephone, ran out to the gorge of the battery and
shouted as loudly as he could and semaphored to them:
'Fire on the column--on the C-O-L-U-M-N--F-I-R-E!'
The fire gradually increased, and shrapnel after shrapnel tore after
the Japanese, but it was late; they had got cover behind an outlying
spur. Our men were still climbing up--on and on--they would soon
be near the top! But they never reached it, for the enemy were too
cunning. The moment the attackers became exposed, a ring of musketry
fire burst out from the summit. Some of our men fell back, retreating
right away down the hill; others could be seen to halt, take cover
behind the rocks and folds of the ground, and to crawl along the
hollows. More men came up from behind, but it was no good; they stopped
gradually, and crawled downwards one by one. The attempt had failed.
The attack of this huge hill could never have succeeded by daylight,
nor should it have been undertaken with so few men. To take it, a
much larger force--at least one regiment--should have been sent; but
although advised of this, General Stössel would have his way. He
considered that he knew best, and he alone was responsible for the
failure.
Evening came on, and, according to the intelligence reports of the
Chinese, there seemed every reason to believe that the Japanese
would make a general attack that night. This information was common
knowledge, and no one looked forward to the coming of night; we
expected an assault, but knew not where the chief blow would fall.
However, Chinese information was always most inaccurate and confused,
and did not justify the reliance we placed in it.
The morning after this fight the Japanese did a thing which surprised
us: they fired on a small party of our stretcher-bearers which had
gone out to pick up a wounded man who had lain all night on the slope
of the hill, and succeeded in again wounding him and also one of the
bearers--an action as disgusting as it was incomprehensible.
The bombardment of Arthur by land was now systematic, lasting generally
from 7 a.m. till 11 or 12 noon, and then again from 2 or 3 p.m. to 6
or 7 p.m. The shooting was apparently carried out by 'squares,' as all
shells fired at the same time, fell into a comparatively small space.
They did their best to destroy the fleet, the port, and the harbour
workshops, and their shooting was so good that after two or three
'overs' and 'shorts' they were able to get on.
And now a word as to the press censorship in the Fortress. From August
9 right up to September 8 the _Novy Kry_ printed my notes, under the
heading 'News of the _Novy Kry_.' These notes were based entirely on
personal observations or on information received by me in the Fortress
Staff Office. By the direction of the Commandant and with the knowledge
of Stössel and Reuss, the following procedure was observed.[15] Every
day, after going round the line of defences, I went to the Fortress
Staff Office, where I was given all the telephone messages of the
preceding twenty-four hours up to twelve noon that day. I busied myself
with this budget in the office of the Chief of the Staff, in his
presence, and under the supervision of Lieutenants Kniazeff or Hammer.
When my account was ready I handed it to Colonel Khvostoff for him
to see, and everything that I said relating to the operations of the
fleet was given to Lieutenant Mackalinsky of the Navy, attached to the
Fortress Staff, to look through. These two then deleted such parts
of it as, in their opinion, ought not to be published, and at once
returned it to me with permission to send to press. I then despatched
it by my orderly to Colonel Artemieff in the Editor's Office, who
in his turn cut out such parts as seemed to him suspicious--_i.e._,
parts to which objection might be taken by the censors. After he
had done this--it always had to be done by him personally--the
manuscript was sent to be set up. Two corrected proofs were sent,
one to General Stössel's Office and one to the Naval Office, to be
censored. The proofs, when signed by the censors, were returned to the
printing-offices, where they were checked by the assistant editor, and
sent by him to the type-room to be amended. Thence a revised proof was
sent to the editor for checking with the censors' original remarks. It
was only after very careful checking of this revised proof with the
original that Colonel Artemieff permitted it to be printed.
See what an amount of correction and checking my 'News' was subjected
to before it reached the reader. However, notwithstanding all this
absurd severity--the almost impossible requirements of two censors,
naval and military--General Stössel deemed it so dangerous that he
stopped the publication of the _Novy Kry_ for one month!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 15: General Stössel was always very well informed of
everything that happened in the Fortress Staff Office.]