The Truth About Port Arthur

by E. K. Nozhin

The faults in the choice of position and ground were largely due to the fact that the scheme was originally a paper scheme, worked out on the map instead of on the ground. When the local engineers saw things on the ground, it was too late for any alteration—the scheme had been approved and confirmed. The paucity of works, their half-finished condition, and the absolute lack of many essentials, however, were all due to a cheese-paring, misplaced economy. Money was scarce for the vital defences of Arthur, while millions were being poured out on the palaces and wharves of Dalny, on a well-equipped harbour, which was eventually to help the Japanese.

Let us now turn to the medical organization of the Fortress. Did that correspond to the needs of the besieged Fortress? What influence had that on its fate?

At the beginning of the war, in spite of the growth of the garrison, there were the following hospitals: (1) A mixed hospital of 400 beds; (2) the Reserve Hospital No. 1, 200 beds; (3) the Port Hospital, 40 beds; (4) two small civil hospitals. Of course, this quantity of hammocks could not possibly suffice to meet the needs of a garrison 50,000 strong. If to the garrison be added the fleet, the civilian and native population, the number of beds appears yet more absurd. According to the field service regulations, the proportion of beds to strength of troops should be 1 to 8; the proportion existing at the commencement of the war was 1 to 100! In March was opened the Naval Hospital, 200 beds, increased in July to 500; in April Reserve Hospital No. 6, 210 beds; in May three reserve hospitals, 630 beds; in June three reserve hospitals and a mobile hospital, 630 beds. After the fortnight's assaults in August, when all the hospitals were filled with wounded and were threatened with dysentery, Reserve Hospital No. 11 was opened, with 1,200 beds, in the naval barracks.

Although, when once the war had started, it was daily to be expected that the enemy might land and Port Arthur be thus completely cut off, from the moment the first shot was fired the equipping of the hospitals with medical and other appliances was carried out at snail's pace. During the three months when the Fortress was in direct communication with the capital, no single additional bed was added—that is, omitting the Naval Hospital and the Mongolia, opened within two months of the beginning of the war for a special purpose. The former was arranged for during peace-time and the building had already been finished. It was only with the arrival of the new Commandant and the Sanitary Inspector of the Fortress, Civil Councillor Subotin, that the organization of the medical service was gradually placed on some sort of footing. Their efforts were not particularly fruitful, because, instead of immediately giving effect to the urgent representations and applications of the Commandant, the authorities in the north spilt seas of ink, and continued thus to spend their time till we were cut off. At the beginning of the strict investment (after the fights on the advanced positions) there were only 2,500 beds in the hospitals under the Military and Naval Departments, and in the three hospital buildings taken over by the Red Cross there were only 500 beds, or a total of 3,000—one-third of the proper number. During the period of the strict blockade the number of beds increased. According to official statistics, another 1,500 were added; but this addition can only be taken as nominal, as there were practically no reserves in the medical store depôts at the beginning of the war, and it was impossible to procure any locally. But still, accepting these official figures, during the worst period in Arthur 4,500 sick and wounded could be tended. The minimum figure of sick at the end of the siege, which cannot be disputed, was 15,000; the actual number was more like 18,000. To show how these 'extra' 10,000 to 12,000 suffering soldiers found shelter or relief means the unveiling of the most revolting picture of the siege. About half of these 'extra' cases were distributed somewhere in the hospitals above mentioned, and the remainder were put in hastily-run-up sheds—little cemeteries of living beings. In these during the last month of the siege there were sometimes as many as a thousand sick men crowded together, under the charge of one medical man, often a surgeon, who could only be a helpless spectator of their sufferings.

Just glance at one of these 'infernos' in the month of December. Outside it is freezing; inside, in spite of the musty and sickening stench, the cold is intense. On all sides is filth, nothing but filth, and on it and amongst it crawl millions of greasy grey lice. The silence is only broken by the sighs and groans of the sick and the hungry—for all in here are both sick and hungry. Death, the Liberator, is also here. He is in every corner, at the doors, at the windows, crawling along the floors and on to the bed-boards; he envelops everything—and waits. At the front a man dies suddenly, and all is over. In the hospitals Death is fought. But here, here, everything is in his power—he only has to wait. Second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour, men pass into eternity, into oblivion. There are hundreds of cases of scurvy. They lie side by side on the floor, on the bed-boards, underneath them, just as they were placed when they came in—some in great-coats, some in tunics, some in miserable boots, some barefooted. The faces are shapeless, swollen, and distorted, and upon the yellow skin are large dark blue bruises. The swollen gums, covered with hideous sores, project out of many grinning mouths, and show the lack of teeth, which are continuously falling out.... Here, far away from their friends and relations, forgotten by all, in horrible, complete consciousness, they are silently waiting the end.

And to think that much of this suffering might have been spared these men had the Medical Service been properly organized, had the highest authorities done their duty, instead of busying themselves with writing orders. Things would not have been so bad even if Stössel had confirmed the resolution of the Council of War about the killing of horses on December 8. Feeding the garrison on horses' flesh and white bread would at once have checked the growth of disease; and there were more than 3,000 horses and 3,000,000 pounds of flour in the Fortress.

The hospitals which existed in peace-time and the hospitals which expanded before the strict blockade answered their purpose fairly well. Those which were opened after the commencement of the strict blockade were far from doing so. They had no linen, nor beds, nor medical supplies, to say nothing of a sufficient quantity of trained nurses or doctors. The most disgraceful in this respect were Reserve Field Hospital No. 2, of 1,200 beds, opened for infectious cases and Mobile Field Hospital No. 5 (4th Division, General Fock), situated on Tiger's Peninsula. What could be expected from hospitals opened after the August assaults, when there was nothing left in the place with which to equip them? For the 1,200 beds of No. 2 only four doctors were told off. This hospital was renowned throughout the Fortress for its horrors: there is no need to describe them. A commission was appointed, which found the internal organization and arrangements of the hospital so revolting that the Hospital Inspector was immediately removed, and in his place was appointed M. Menshoff, who had recently been Chief of the Police in Dalny. Of 3,500 patients received into it, 1,500 died. Mobile Hospital No. 5 was little better.

The system of opening a hospital extension on the day of a big attack was hopeless. It led to the sudden concentration of the sick and wounded in the hospitals nearest to where the attack was taking place, and where there was most congestion and appalling confusion. The wounded sometimes received no medical assistance for days together, as the personnel, working as it did for twenty-four hours in the twenty-four, could not cope with such a big influx, and they were carried from one hospital to another, often dying on the road. Meanwhile, the other hospitals, situated some way off from the locality attacked, did not take their share, owing to this inefficient organization.