'One hundred lashes, to-day and to-morrow.'
And so on to the end. And then these God's creatures, some of them future heroes who died for the honour and glory of Russia, were removed and flogged. Later, owing to the protests of the Chief of the Fire Brigade, the flogging was carried out in the prison-house, where it was still more cruel. I know that men are flogged in Russia, but there it is only after trial. With us in Arthur things were more simple, more patriarchal.
During that time laws did not exist in Arthur. Once when Colonel Vershinin, the Civil Commissary, remarked with regard to an order that it was illegal, a staff-officer replied: 'How can you have laws on service? General Stössel's orders are law for us.' And this was the state of affairs right up to the capitulation, more especially after Stössel's appointment as aide-de-camp to the Tsar.
After he had left the garrison and the sick and wounded to their fate and departed to Russia, Japanese military law came into force. It was strict, but it did not prevent freedom.
On February 22 we perused the following order by the Commandant with fear and trembling:
'Colonel Petrusha will ride round the Old and New Towns and the New Chinese Town, and will make prisoners of all men who are drunk or disorderly, and anyone else whom he may consider it necessary to arrest.'
This was alarming. Colonel Petrusha authorized to arrest 'anyone'? Several people went to the military Procurator to find out what it meant. It would be dangerous to go out in the streets, for if Colonel Petrusha thought it 'necessary' he would arrest you. The following day you would be up under the cold grey eye of the Chief of the Police. He would ask, 'What have you to say?' and you would be flogged. The only advice that the Procurator could give us was to be careful and retiring.
As February passed guards were placed along the whole of the railway-line from Tashihchiao to Arthur, and guns were mounted near the longer bridges, for bands of Hunhuses were now on the prowl. Train-loads of soldiers from the reserve battalions arrived every day, and the confusion and lack of system shown in their distribution were hopeless. Though all concerned strove to appear busy, it was mainly in the direction of writing orders that their energy was expended.
The general mental attitude towards the enemy was at this time remarkable, for from Stössel down to the last-joined recruit all professed the greatest contempt for the Japanese. The whole nation was judged by the specimens seen in Port Arthur. 'A Japanese? Pooh! he's a mosquito. Why, I'll stick a pin through him and send him home in a letter,' was a favourite remark of the moment. The General commanding the 4th Rifle Division, who led Stössel by the nose, absolutely, assured all and sundry that the Japanese were 'fools.' 'The Japanese are fools, because in their field regulations it is laid down, that in the attack, the firing-line should extend at wide intervals.' Sitting on his horse in front of the regiments under his command, he would explain this, and then say: 'Front rank, tell me why the Japanese are fools.' The soldiers would shout in chorus: 'Because, when attacking, their firing-line extends widely.' Is it to be wondered that our men thought the Japanese fools—till their first engagement, and that after systematically retiring before the 'fools' and suffering heavy losses they lost confidence in their General?
Having spent more than a year in Japan, I knew of the enemy's energetic preparations for war. But our people would neither pay attention to the serious articles in the newspapers nor to the warnings of their own keen officers who had been through the Chinese campaign. The majority, especially those who had recently come from European Russia, preferred to accept Fock's estimate, for, thanks to the inferiority of our professional military literature, the army had no idea of what modern Japan was like, and in particular of her military strength. This stupidity and ignorance was shameful and sad. Whose fault was it?