In November, at the beginning of the attack, the place, though covered with fire and communicating trenches, was, as regards fortification and armament, very weak. Everything possible had been done by Colonel Tretiakoff to protect the 6-inch guns mounted on its highest point by means of improvised protection of rails, beams, sheet-iron, stones, and earth. On the 27th the attack commenced and followed the usual course. For some hours the top of the hill was enveloped in the smoke of the shells bursting over it; then the Japanese quickly, and in lines, crept up the steep slopes, and the assault began. They fought and fought like fiends—fought till exhausted, till they lost consciousness, one of their battalions being literally swept from the face of the earth. It was dark before the last of them was driven off and the fighting ceased; but there was no rest, for all dug throughout the night—in many cases dug their own graves. At dawn a single shot echoed forth from the besieging lines, and in a few seconds the hill was again a smoking crater—the focus of the concentrated fire of many guns, whose shells were bursting in clusters. Then the assault commenced and continued the whole day. The Commandant, keenly observant of what was happening all along the front, was always ready with reserves to forestall the enemy in strength wherever the latter chose to deliver his blow. With a defensive line of eighteen miles the initiative was, of course, with the besiegers, but the Commandant was able to counter. The messages from the hill became more and more urgent. Kondratenko asked and begged for reinforcements, but the local reserves had already all been absorbed into the firing line: only one thing was left—to combine forces; and Smirnoff sent échelons from the main reserve to Tea Valley.
And what were Stössel's staff doing all this time? Some were reading copies of telephone messages sent to the Commandant, and Stössel was breakfasting, writing orders, eating, sleeping, eating again, and again sleeping. What happened at the front he only heard at fourth-hand. He had no telephone to his house—he hated telephones—and having nothing to do, he now took an interest in the Town Guard, and decided to send them up to the trenches on the hill. General Smirnoff protested. He fully appreciated their worth, but he could not allow them to go into the advanced positions, for though very keen and brave, they were ill-disciplined and had little training, so that they could not be expected to take the place of regulars. The Commandant always regarded them as his last military reserve. Having, through the mediation of Kondratenko, persuaded Stössel of this, he insisted on their being appointed to the hospitals as attendants, to replace the regulars, who were sent to the front. Stössel hated these civilian soldiers: why, I do not know.
On the night of the 28th, 203 Metre Hill was still ours, and from dawn next morning it was again the object of the same artillery fire. The whole of the defensive line anxiously watched to see what would take place on its top. For two days now it had withstood the fiercest and most insistent attacks of our gallant foe. Its garrison, already reinforced from the reserve, in spite of bravery which equalled the enemy's, began to melt away. Assaults were delivered first from the left and then from the right. At last the enemy seized the left peak (it is a two-humped hill), and the flag of the Rising Sun fluttered in the smoky air—a few more efforts on their part and the hill must be lost. From the officer commanding the western flank—Colonel Irman—the Commandant received a message that the Japanese had captured the hill. Before taking action, Smirnoff wished to corroborate this, for Colonel Tretiakoff (who was actually on the hill and really conducting the operations there, as Irman, though a most gallant field artilleryman, was ignorant of fortress warfare, and moreover had not that precious gift of a military leader—the gift of quietly and sensibly weighing the surrounding circumstances) reported that a hot fight was being waged on the top, but that he hoped, with the assistance of the reserves, to keep possession of the right and disputed peak. He said the local reserves were exhausted, and asked earnestly for help from the main reserve. Smirnoff, after confirmation, at once sent up a fresh body of men. I must mention that a spectator got a different impression of the progress of the fight, according to his point of view. One onlooker reported that the enemy had seized the hill and our men were in full flight. Another, watching from a different place, reported at the same time that the enemy were falling back. A third said the fighting was over and the hill was ours. Anyone watching from the direction of Pigeon Bay would have said the Japanese had taken it, as the western slope hid the whole field from view. Moreover, the attackers and defenders themselves could not see everything going on—they were too busy in hand-to-hand fighting to observe more than a few yards around. Smirnoff had to sift out the various messages coming in in order to arrive at the truth, and it was not till he had done this, and was sure that we could still hold on to the hill if reinforced, that he threw more men into the fight.
Suddenly an officer arrived in a tremendous hurry, and said that he was instructed by General Stössel to summon General Smirnoff at once to the District Offices for an 'extraordinary' conference. The District Staff had also received Irman's message, and it had made a great impression on all those assembled at the office.
'Irman reports that the Japs have seized 203 Metre Hill,' commenced Stössel at once.
General Fock chimed in:
'It's absurd to try and hold out there longer: we must think of the men. It's all the same: sooner or later we shall have to abandon it. We must not waste men; we shall want them later.'
To Fock Smirnoff replied:
'It is premature to think of abandoning the hill at present. I am pouring in reinforcements, and it is still ours.'
