HINTS OF SURRENDER. MORE ASSAULTS
From Raschevsky's diary, November 18:
'We have to wait and wait, which makes things very difficult. It is
far easier to fight a fierce action which would be decisive than to
waste away by slow degrees. Sickness has already begun to break out.
The troops seem to be losing their energy, and there is a shortage of
supplies; in fact, the state of affairs is daily becoming unendurable,
and we are not in a condition to endure any ill-fortune.'
In reality the position of the Fortress, owing to the decrease in
energy, was getting alarming. Writing these lines, I can plainly
see before me Raschevsky's well-built figure, as he used to report
to the Commandant about the progress of work at the front. If the
energetic, indefatigable Raschevsky began to feel tired, what must the
faint-hearted have felt? Raschevsky did not live, he seemed to boil
over with energy, and his eventual loss to the army was irreparable.
Arthur was indeed being burned in a slow fire, but no one had been
heard to talk of a surrender except chez Stössel. We all longed for a
fierce, decisive battle and a quick end--better death than a shameful
surrender. Meanwhile the enemy were on the whole silent, occasionally
firing at us, gathering together their strength for the future. This
lull, this weary uncertainty, was hard to bear. To continue quoting
from the diary:
'News has been received from Chinese spies that the seven guns which
were lying on the shore of Louisa Bay have been mounted at Nangalin.
They also say that the Japanese, annoyed at their want of success in
the north, have decided to seize Arthur between November 21 and 26,
whatever it may cost, and that if this assault, for which they have
about 40,000 men and will use their fleet, is not successful they will
not attempt another.'
At this time there occurred one or two episodes which seemed to be
indicative that the idea of surrender was already held in certain
quarters.
General Smirnoff was now paying special attention to the third line of
defence, already armed with naval guns, and having excellently laid
out redoubts and deep trenches. On this it was intended to oppose the
enemy should we have to withdraw from the second line, and Admiral
Wiren was to be appointed to command it. In the middle of November the
Commandant unexpectedly received a definite order to cease work, not
only on the third but also on the second line (the Fortress works),
and at the same time to send men from the main reserve direct to the
first line of defences--the forts, and intermediate works--of the
north-east front. Though General Smirnoff thoroughly appreciated the
important rôle which the second and third lines must play in the future
defence, he obeyed the order and also sent the Chinese coolies to the
first line, but at the same time continued to carry on the works on
the second and third lines energetically, so that by the middle of
December they were almost finished. Stössel's definite order to cease
work on the second defence line, which was most important, could only
mean that he either did not understand the importance of this line, or
that, under the influence of General Fock, he had an ulterior motive.
The course of later events forced me to suppose that the order was
founded on a previously formed conclusion that the Fortress could no
longer be held, once the enemy should have established themselves on
the part of the first line between Tumulus and B Batteries, from the
highest point of which--Eagles' Nest--they could observe and direct the
fire of their guns on to any point up to the sea. Another incident,
which took place directly after the interruption of communications in
April or May, possessed in conjunction with the one just described a
curious significance. From the moment when the railway was cut, the
majority of the inhabitants had wisely withdrawn their deposits from
the Russo-Chinese Bank, and consequently scarcely any ready money
remained in hand. The Defence Fund deposit could not be drawn upon,
but in the treasure chest of the 3rd Corps there was £120,000. As the
Chinese labourers had to be paid almost daily, cash was a necessity,
and General Smirnoff asked the Officer Commanding the District, through
Colonel Grigorovitch, to advance him £5,000 in order to pay them; but
Stössel declined. Then the Commandant himself went to Stössel and
tactfully and politely explained to him the absolute necessity of
paying the labourers, and he said that if this was not done all the
work on the defensive lines would be stopped. The reply he received
was: 'The money belongs to the 3rd Corps, and should stay at its
credit.'
'But, sir! I have absolutely no money with which to pay the Chinese,
and shall have to stop work altogether in two or three days. And, if
they find they can't get work here, they'll all leave the place. At
present great progress is being made with the defences; the labour is
absolutely essential, and I must have money.'
He argued, and tried for a long time to convince the Officer Commanding
the District, but when he had done speaking Stössel bluntly refused his
request with the words:
'It is nothing to do with me.'
Realizing what menaced the Fortress if money for these labourers was
not forthcoming, the Commandant sent General Kondratenko to Stössel
to endeavour to get something out of him, if only a small sum.
Roman Isidorovitch[32] went and, after great difficulty, eventually
got Stössel to lend £1,500 to the Defence Fund. Later it was found
necessary to borrow several more thousands of pounds from the Corps
treasure chest, but to each request Stössel at first gave a refusal,
doing everything in his power to hinder and prevent the money being
lent, though the Corps did not require it, the men having nothing to
spend their savings on. It was due to this difficulty of getting money,
that right up to the strict investment, the works were not made on the
liberal scale on which they should have been, but were constructed from
hand to mouth according to the money available. It was due to this
action of Stössel's that much in the Fortress was found unfinished
and unready at the beginning of the blockade. Everything which was
incomplete had to be finished anyhow--by the superhuman efforts of men
who, since May, had begun to feel the effects of being on short rations.
Early in November, Field-Marshal Oyama joined the besieging army, with
orders to ascertain on the spot the reasons for the siege being so long
protracted. The enemy were alarmed at the vision of the approaching
Baltic Fleet, for, so long as Arthur held out and afforded protection
to what remained of the Pacific Ocean Fleet, this, after uniting with
Rojdestvensky's squadrons, would shake their position at sea. They were
accordingly most anxious to take the place, and at a council of war
it was decided that Nogi must seize it at any cost. Fresh troops were
pushed up to the front and the tired ones relieved; more guns were
mounted, and ammunition was replenished.
All along our front men lived just like every one else--they ate,
slept, hoped, and died. To the noise of bursting shells and firing
they had long got accustomed. A shell burst; a man--perhaps two or
three--were killed. Up came others to separate the wounded from
the dead; but there was no bustling, no excitement; it was nothing
unusual--merely routine! Habit is indeed wonderful! When a fairly long
lull took place we at first enjoyed it, but after a bit began to feel
the want of something. It was thus all along, except on the extreme
flanks and on the shore-line, where there was almost absolute safety,
especially on Tiger's Tail and on Liao-tieh-shan. Of course, in some
parts of the front, where the enemy were within 15 to 20 yards of our
parapets, life was a little _difficile_. Neither side dared show up
to the other; each was always waiting for a shot. It was particularly
so with Erh-lung-shan, Chi-kuan-shan, and Fortification No. 3. Here
the merciless, dogged struggle never relaxed for a moment. It was our
most vulnerable point, to which the enemy stuck like leeches, daily
establishing themselves more firmly. They dug, dug, dug, and burrowed
like moles, laid fougasses, exploded mines, pounded us with shells, and
showered bullets.
We now started the November 'assault season,' which began on the 20th.
It was begun by a bombardment, followed by an assault of several
companies, which dashed into the ditch of Fort Erh-lung-shan. After a
desperate struggle they were repulsed by 4 p.m., and by dusk all was
quiet. The men were so used by now to death and fighting that, except
for the conversation in the casemates being afterwards perhaps a little
more animated, no change was noticeable. Among the staff-officers
alone one saw unusual activity, and telephones were busy. An alarming
message was received, also, to the effect that the enemy had fired a
mine in the caponier of Fort Chi-kuan-shan, and we had been obliged to
withdraw some 8 yards behind the traverse. We had actually given them 8
yards! This was at once reported to the Commandant, who, as usual, when
not riding round the defences, was studying the chart on his table or
at the telephone: he never had a spare moment, for he was the slave of
the telephone. When in his house he could never leave the instrument
day or night. He used to doze beside it, always ready to make decisions
and give orders, for he was the nerve-centre, the brain of the Fortress.
On November 21 they built a new battery on the north side of
Ta-ku-shan. The importance of the hill and its command over the
north-east front was always being brought home to us. Had we only
fortified it well, and been able to retain it, what a difference
it would have made to the Fortress! On the 22nd the enemy hurled
themselves at dark against Kuropatkin's Lunette and B Battery, but,
being seen in time, were repulsed by reserves taken from the flanks. At
midnight they again attacked, and again were hurled back.
The following is an extract from Raschevsky's diary of November 23:
'As usual, we found it very hard to drive the Japs out of the trenches;
it took nearly half an hour. It is clear proof of the faulty way in
which our trenches are built. They are narrow and deep with revetted
banquettes, on which the men firing are like hens on a perch, and it
is impossible either to shoot well from them or to give support to any
place broken through. Men who want to move along have to squeeze past
those manning the trench; it is agony to a wounded man to pull him out
along behind the firing-line, and it is very difficult for an officer
to get past to control the fire. Generally speaking, our trenches are
beneath contempt, and yet new ones are being dug, on the same pattern,
and we are forbidden to let the men build them in any other way!'
On November 24 our guns were busy all day destroying the crowning of
the glacis of Fort Erh-lung-shan and Fortification No. 3. The enemy
continued to advance, and mounted a gun in the ditch of Fortification
No 3, with which they battered the caponier, and built a bridge across
the deep ditch of the Fort, which was only destroyed with great
difficulty. There was heavy firing all night on the 25th, and at dawn
on the 26th every gun on the north-east front was in action. The whole
line from Tumulus Hill to B Battery was enveloped in thick black smoke
from the shells of hundreds of guns concentrated on to a comparatively
small space.
The assault began. Living waves of infantry rolled forward against the
ruined front, and the moments of the Fortress seemed numbered. Bayonet
fighting was the order everywhere, as attack was met by counter-attack.
Time after time the enemy threw themselves with extraordinary gallantry
and persistence on Forts Erh-lung-shan, Chi-kuan-shan, and B Battery.
Thousands were mown down, but the living surged onwards. But it could
not go on for ever, and at 3.30 the infantry attack slackened and
ceased. We had lost nothing save Caponier No. 2, but the enemy kept
pounding us with their guns, and we awaited a fresh attack. At 8 p.m.
our searchlights showed up dense columns behind the railway near
Tumulus Hill. On they came, and hell was again let loose. Their effort
was to break through Cossack Square towards the central wall. They got
the hill and reached our guns--on, on they crept. It was the moment
for a counter-attack. Bayantseff's Company, commanded by Lieutenant
Misnikoff, doubled to the rescue and reached the foot of the hill.
'Company--halt!' shouted Misnikoff. 'Men--in front is glory or death.
Pray.' The men crossed themselves.
'Forward!'
It was the work of seconds. The men climbed upwards. 'Hurrah!'
'Hurrah!' was heard, and the Japanese were hurled backwards, bayoneted,
and swept from the battery; but again they crept up. A section of
quick-firers came to the rescue and saved the day, leaving the hills
in our hands. The Fortress had survived a critical moment, for the
firing-line had not only sucked up into it the whole of the naval
detachment, but the latter's reserve also. All next day and night an
incessant stream of wounded poured into Arthur, our losses being more
than 1,500 men. In many companies but sixteen men remained. A strange
sight could be seen that day, for the slopes below and beyond Tumulus
Hill were thickly spread with dead Japanese. A thick, unbroken mass of
corpses covered the cold earth like a coverlet.
On the day of the assault the following order had been issued by
Major-General Nakamura, who commanded the Japanese force told off for
that forlorn hope--a force composed of the bravest men of the whole of
the enemy's left flank.
'Our objective is to sever the Fortress in two parts. Not a man must
hope to return alive. If I fall, Colonel Watanabe will take over
the command; if he also falls, Colonel Okuno will take his place.
Every officer, whatever his rank, must consider himself his senior's
successor. The attack will be delivered mainly with the bayonet.
No matter how fierce the Russian fire, our men will not reply by a
single shot until we have established ourselves. Officers will shoot
any men who fall out or retire without orders.'
This order shows excellently how relentless our enemy could be in
his determination to gain his end. It was issued to a force of brave
men--all volunteers. It was read on the threshold of death, and each
of those who read it knew well that it was not a joke, but the end.
Each well understood that there, on the steep slopes of Tumulus Hill,
was his grave. They knew there was no return; that the only issue was
death--the death of a hero or the shameful fate of a coward. That is
the kind of foe we had to fight.
On the 26th the enemy unexpectedly began to force their way forward on
the western front, in front of 203 Metre Hill. On the morning of the
27th they attacked in superior force the hill at Little Pigeon Bay,
north of the village of Shan-yan-tau, capturing a small hill in front
of the big one. This led to the idea that an attack on the highest
point of the western front was intended, and Smirnoff accordingly began
to strengthen that flank by bringing up the reserves. On the 27th an
attack was delivered between Flat Hill and 203 Metre Hill. During the
day a magazine in Fort Erh-lung-shan was exploded. The noise was awful,
but the casualties were few.
About 4 p.m. on the 27th a group of Japanese carrying a white flag were
seen near Tumulus Battery. The 'Cease fire' sounded, and the parapets
of our works were dotted with those who had for long been hiding in the
trenches and other holes. Men seemed once again to become men and the
past was forgotten. Captain Spredoff went out from Fortification No. 3
to meet the flag party, whose leader handed over a letter written in
French asking permission to carry away their wounded. The staff was
telephoned to, and while waiting, those who had been deadly enemies
looked at each other with unconcealed curiosity and admiration. Around
on all sides the dead were lying--endless rows of them. The sight was
horrible. They lay, as if alive, with open but glazed, fixed eyes. On
their faces were expressed horror, entreaty, agony, anger, and even
laughter. They lay face downwards, doubled up, with nails dug into
the ground in a last convulsion. They lay with thoughtful, earnest
expressions on their faces, upturned to the heavens. They lay on
their sides naturally, as if asleep. They lay with clenched fists and
wide-open mouths, showing all their teeth. They lay in heaps together,
one on the top of another, some looking at others as if in amazement.
They lay side by side in several rows. Arms and legs were torn off,
heads split in half; some were headless, some were cut in half.... The
Japanese looked and looked again, but could find no wounded among the
dead, and they slowly and sorrowfully retraced their steps....
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 32: Kondratenko.]