THE LOSS OF THE HILL
While men were slaughtering each other in thousands on this hill the
civilized world watched the tape, wondering who would win, what the end
would be. How many protested or were even indignant at this legalized
butchery? It is said, of course, that war is necessary and inevitable,
that it freshens and invigorates national organism. This may be so, but
it also brings a step closer the realization of the socialistic dream.
Of this I am certain.
December 3 arrived and passed under similar conditions, except that
the fight on the hill was, if possible, more exasperated. In the
Fortress the feeling of alarm was intensified, and all unemployed men
had been got under arms (at the time of the surrender the number of
armed men had been increased by 9,000), and the other points denuded,
in order to feed the maw of 203 Metre Hill. Even the hospitals gave
their contribution. December 4--bright and frosty--ushered in a fresh
hell. It was now hardly a fight between men that was taking place on
this accursed spot: it was a struggle of human flesh against iron and
steel, against blazing petroleum, lyddite, pyroxyline, and mélinite,
and the stench of rotting corpses. It was the last day but one of the
long-drawn agony.
A shell to-day fell into one of the hospitals full of wounded men, but
perhaps the scene of horror inside was hardly increased. Were the
enemy getting ferocious in their exasperation, and beginning to ignore
humanity? It looked like it. By night our feelings had become deadened
by the continued strain; we were almost apathetic.
On the hill our men still held on under the gallant leadership of
Colonel Irman, but in spite of his bravery he did not really replace
Tretiakoff, and Butusoff, by now well known to the reader, had just
before this fight been given a week's leave to rest--a rest which he
sadly needed. Captain Veselovsky, of the 26th Regiment, was actually
commanding on the hill. The officers with him were Lieutenants
Obolensky and Rafalovitch, of the same regiment. While the first-named
was calmly doing his duty a splinter tore away his face right down
to the lower jaw. On his body there was left a chin fringed with
beard and some teeth. Rafalovitch, who was standing alongside, was
untouched, being merely covered with earth and blood; but he was quite
upset, and asked Semenoff to relieve him for a few hours. The latter
telephoned permission, but 'not for more than two or three hours,'
as the waste in officers was very great. Rafalovitch appeared at the
Staff Head-quarters. He was dirty; his clothes were torn and covered
with blood and spotted with whity-red bits of something. This handsome,
healthy young fellow was quite unstrung by what he had been through. He
was trembling as if in a fever; his eyes were bloodshot and wandering,
and he could scarcely speak.
'What's happened? Your face is covered with blood. Are you wounded?'
'No, sir, I am--I am not wounded. It's not my blood; it's Captain
Veselovsky's brains,' was the stammering reply jerked out.
'What! Veselovsky killed?'
'Yes, sir. His head was carried away--only not quite: the lower jaw
and beard were left--and I was covered with his brains, right in my
face. It almost blinded me. I thought I was wounded. Can I go and rest
a little?'
'Yes, go, and God be with you. Go and rest, but remember we are short
of officers.'
After a few hours a message was received that Obolensky had been
killed with a bullet in the head. There was now not a single officer
left in the 5th Company of the 26th Regiment; there was only the
sergeant-major. He was promoted by telephone to be acting ensign, and
Rafalovitch was sent for.
The telephone rang.
'Sir, General Kondratenko wants to speak to you.'
Semenoff took the receiver and listened.
'I think the position so serious that Colonel Butusoff should be sent
there.'
'Sir, Butusoff is exhausted, and asked a few days ago for leave to go
and rest. I gave it him on the condition that he would at once come if
wanted.'
'Tell him that I do not order him to go to 203 Metre Hill, but I would
ask him to. We want him there; he is irreplaceable. Say it is my
particular request.'
He was at once summoned, and went up to the hill. We knew we should
not see him again, and sure enough next day Butusoff, the pride of the
Frontier Guards, was mortally wounded in the stomach, and suffered
frightful agony till he became unconscious before death.
As the sun rose on December 5 it lit up the two-humped summit of 203
Metre Hill for the last time in the possession of Russian soldiers--a
handful of gunners, sappers, and infantry hiding among shapeless mounds
of rubbish. This was the last day. On it occurred an incident which
might be for ever quoted as an illustration of the 'fog of war.'
That morning Semenoff was watching through a telescope from Obelisk
Hill. At ten o'clock he saw that the fighting was at the very top of
the hill. At noon he saw our men retiring; the Japanese had gained the
top, and our men were dashing down the hill. The enemy did not follow;
they did not even open fire, but more and more of them were collecting
on top and working as hard as they could, throwing sand-bags together
and entrenching themselves. Their flag fluttered in the breeze. A
parapet grew up; our men were getting further and further away. It
was all quite clear and distinct. Every minute was precious. It was
essential to concentrate a heavy fire on the hill and prevent the
enemy establishing themselves, or all would be lost. He dashed to the
telephone.
'Put me on to the Officer Commanding the Artillery.'
An answer came from the exchange that the line was engaged.
'In General Stössel's name put me on to General Biely.'
He got through.
'Sir, the Japanese are entrenching on the top of 203 Metre Hill. We are
retiring; the artillery must shell the hill. Every minute is precious.'
Biely calmly answered that, according to the reports from Irman, the
hill was still ours.
'I assure you, sir, the Japanese have got the hill, and are throwing up
a parapet. I can see it through my telescope.'
Biely answered as before, and suggested that Semenoff should
communicate with the Fortress Staff. Meanwhile the Japanese were
feverishly, rapidly continuing to work, and time was going--precious
time that never would return.
Semenoff rang up the Fortress Staff. They replied that, according to a
report just received from Kondratenko, the hill was still in our hands.
Semenoff assured them that our men had abandoned it and the Japanese
had seized the summit.
The artillery remained silent: without an order through 'the proper
channel' they could not open fire. No one else either saw or knew what
was happening. It was only from Semenoff's observation point, and by
aid of an excellent telescope, that it could be seen that the Japanese
had taken the hill. Semenoff again rang up Biely:
'Sir, open fire on 203 Metre Hill, or it will be too late. There are
many Japanese there now. They are entrenching themselves on the top,
and we shall not be able to get it back.'
'Perhaps you are mistaken. Why doesn't Irman, who is commanding the
western front, send us any word? I----'
But Semenoff rang off. It was already 2 p.m. He rang up Irman's staff
and spoke to Kondratenko:
'Sir, the Japanese have occupied the top of 203 Metre Hill, and
are building a parapet. We have retreated. I can see it all in my
telescope. Fire must be opened on the hill.'
'How is it that I can still see our men in a bomb-proof? And Irman
tells me that the hill is ours. I will ask him now,' said Kondratenko.
'I assure you, sir, that the Japanese are on the top.'
'Well, I'll ask Irman at once. If it is so, we must open fire
immediately, although I myself clearly see our men, and have asked the
Commandant not to fire.'
[Illustration: GENERAL BIELY.]
This muddle can be very easily explained. It was all caused by the
'point of view.' The Commandant had received information that the
Japanese were on the hill, and that our men were retiring; he had
been told so often before. However, being convinced that 203 Metre
Hill was in possession of the enemy, he ordered Biely to open fire on
the top. The order was given, but it took at least an hour before it
reached the battery commanders by telephone. Meanwhile Kondratenko
telephoned to him and implored him not to open fire, as some of our
men were still concentrated on the hill! The Commandant, upon receipt
of this message from the Officer Commanding the Defences, at once
ordered Biely not to fire. Kondratenko was correct in reporting as he
did; he saw what was happening on the hill from his own point of view,
and there certainly were some men in the bomb-proof. Semenoff from his
position could see well that the Japanese had occupied the top, and
were entrenching. So it went on.
Later Kondratenko telephoned to Semenoff and asked him to go to him
to arrange a withdrawal of the troops. This was Irman's duty, not
Semenoff's. But the former was now useless: after all the strain
and confusion, he had quite lost his head. There was again some
misunderstanding about the withdrawal. In the evening an unsuccessful
attempt was made to regain 203 Metre Hill, and after its failure,
Smirnoff decided to abandon it altogether, but to cling on to Flat and
Divisional Hills. However, by an error of Kondratenko's, all three were
abandoned at the same time. It did not much matter, as with the fall of
203 Metre Hill the two others had no real value. The withdrawal began
at dusk, and was carried on without a hitch till 6 a.m. Notwithstanding
the fact that every one in Arthur well knew that it must fall sooner
or later, that it was not strong enough to resist siege-guns, or to
repulse for ever assaults which were constantly being reinforced by
fresh columns, the actual end created a deep impression. The lull
which now ensued, though, as usual, made the garrison believe in its
own strength, in spite of the fact that the last days of the Pacific
Ocean Fleet had come.
203 Metre Hill was lost, and with it more than 5,000 Russians.