The Japanese fleet consisted of:
| Sea-going battleships | 6 |
| Coast-defence battleships | 2 |
| Armoured cruisers | 11 |
| Unarmoured cruisers | 14 |
| Destroyers | 50 |
| Gunboats | 17 |
At the commencement of war our Pacific Ocean Squadron consisted of:
| Sea-going battleships | 7 |
| Large cruisers (of which only four were armoured) | 9 |
| Small cruisers and minor ships | 4 |
| Destroyers | 42 |
Our fleet was neither ready nor concentrated. Four cruisers were at Vladivostok, one at Chemulpo, and the greater part of the Port Arthur Squadron lay in the inner roads. A few days before the attack of February 9 it moved out into the outer roads to carry out steam trials, but proper precautions were not observed, even though diplomatic relations had already been broken off.
As far back as 1901 our Headquarter Staff had estimated that in the event of war our Pacific Ocean Fleet would be weaker than Japan’s, but within two years of that date Admiral Alexeieff, the Viceroy, stated in the scheme for the strategical distribution of our troops in the Far East[78] that the defeat of our fleet was impossible under existing conditions.
In their night attack of February 9 the Japanese put several of our best ships out of action; but, serious as the damage was, it could have been speedily repaired had we possessed proper facilities in Port Arthur. Though we had expended many millions in constructing docks and quays at Dalny, Port Arthur was without a dock, and repairs could only be executed slowly. Still, our Pacific Ocean Squadron revived when Admiral Makharoff arrived, and for a short time its chances of success were much increased. After Makharoff’s death the command passed to Admiral Witgeft, who, upon receiving instructions to force his way through to Vladivostok, put to sea and engaged Togo’s squadron. Witgeft was killed, and the fleet inflicted some damage on Togo’s squadron, and returned to Port Arthur without the loss of a single ship. The battle of August 10 was indecisive, though our blue-jackets fought gallantly the whole day against a numerically superior enemy, and beat off numerous attacks by destroyers. After returning to Port Arthur the fleet finally assumed its passive rôle, and was gradually disarmed—as in the Siege of Sevastopol—in order to strengthen the land defence of the fortress, where our sailors did most excellent work. What it might have accomplished on its own element can be gauged from the performances of the gallant little cruiser squadron under Admiral Essen, which made a daring sally from Vladivostok to the coasts of Japan. Not only did Essen’s success cause considerable consternation in Japan, but it resulted in action of practical value to the army, for one vessel sunk by the squadron was conveying siege material for use against Port Arthur. On October 14, 1904, Admiral Rozhdestvenski’s fleet, consisting of 7 battleships, 5 first-class cruisers, 3 second-class cruisers, and 12 destroyers, with a complement of 519 officers and 7,900 men, left Libau for the Pacific Ocean, and Admiral Nebogatoff’s squadron left to join it on February 16, 1905. The latter consisted of 1 sea-going battleship, 3 coast-defence battleships, and 1 first-class cruiser, with a complement of 120 officers and more than 2,100 men. Rozhdestvenski’s squadron had to steam 16,400 miles to reach Vladivostok. In spite of the lack of coaling stations en route, and in the face of extraordinary difficulties, it eventually succeeded in reaching the Sea of Japan, where it was utterly destroyed on May 27 and 28, 1905, off Tsushima. In twenty-four hours we lost 30 pennants sunk or captured out of 47, and 137,000 from a total tonnage of 157,000. The light cruiser Almaz and 2 destroyers—the Grozni and Bravi—alone reached Vladivostok. According to Admiral Togo’s reports, he lost only 3 destroyers, while his casualties amounted to 7 officers and 108 men killed, 40 officers and 620 men wounded. Many gallant exploits were performed by our sailors in the fight: the battleship Suvaroff continued firing until she sank, and of the Navarin’s complement only two men were saved; while the small ironclad Ushakoff replied to the Japanese summons to surrender with a broadside, and foundered with the whole of her crew. M. Burun closes his remarkable article in the following words:
“Undoubtedly many tactical mistakes were among the contributory causes of the Tsushima catastrophe: our initial error in allowing transports to be with the fleet, the unseaworthiness and the conspicuous colour of our ships, and many such details; but the real cause was the unreadiness of our fleet for war, and the criminal short-sightedness of our Administration. Such a contingency as war was never contemplated, and the fleet was kept up entirely for show.
“Our crews were of the best material in the world; they were brave and capable of learning, but besides being unversed in the use of modern implements of war (such as automatic gun-sights, etc.), they were not accustomed to life at sea. Our officers were possessed of a strong sense of duty, and thoroughly appreciated the immense importance of the task before them; but they were new to the crews and to the ships, which they had suddenly to command against a fleet trained in the stern school of war. Born sailors, the Japanese seamen never left their ships, while our vessels had neither permanent nor full crews. Even in the last eight months of the cruise of our fleet our captains were unable, owing to the shortage of ammunition, to put their crews through a course of gunnery, or to test their training. The ships only carried enough ammunition for one battle. Yes, we lost our fleet because the most important element—the personnel—was unprepared. We lost the war, and lost our predominance on the Pacific Ocean, because, even while preparing to celebrate the anniversary of the gallant defence of Sevastopol, we quite forgot that the strength of a navy is only created by the spirit of every individual member belonging to it.