'There you are. There is the man who knows,' replied Yolshin, pointing to Captain O.
'Yes, I can tell you. I have been made Chief of the Staff of the Rear-Guard, of which your regiment is to form part,' said the newly fledged staff-officer in a smug tone. He then relapsed into the mysterious silence beloved of the staff-officer. He evidently wanted to see what impression he had made on those present, and especially on those junior to himself, and looked at me none too kindly, for it behoved him to be careful of what he said in the presence of a mere civilian, even though an official war correspondent.
I detrained at Tafashin, the head-quarters of the 4th Division, near the Kinchou position, where I attached myself to some Frontier Guards, and with them made a night reconnaissance towards Mount Samson, in front of the position. This was to me exciting and novel, but the main feature of general interest was that, though one of our objects was to investigate Mount Samson if possible, we were suddenly recalled before we reached our objective, as the reconnaissance had been countermanded. We thus nearly lost the advance patrols we had sent on ahead of us, and returned without finding out if there were many enemy on Mount Samson or none at all. I got back to our starting-point at dawn and slept soundly, tired out by the varied and unusual impressions of the night. In my dreams I seemed to hear noises, which got louder and louder, till suddenly I woke. Every one was throwing on his clothes and the alarm was sounding.
'What's up?' I asked, half dazed, for the whole building was trembling from the noise of firing.
'It's nothing; the enemy are bombarding us with the Lord knows how many guns!'
Shrapnel were bursting over the position, and the hills seemed to be smoking from the bursting shells.
Our patrols of the Frontier Guards only returned in the middle of the day, and they reported that the enemy had occupied Mount Samson in considerable force. They had seen their bivouac, guns, and horses, and had heard the noise of work and the ringing of telephones.
At 5 a.m. horses were brought us, and Lieutenant Sirotko suggested that we should go on to the position together. The fire increased, the heaviest falling on the guns under the command of Egoroff. All the batteries on the position kept up a hot fire; but the enemy rained shell after shell on Egoroff's unit, literally plastering it with lead. At times as many as ten shells appeared to be bursting above the battery at once, and it seemed as if it must be swept away. The Japanese field-batteries were a long way off, firing at their longest range. At 6 a.m. the enemy opened fire from some concealed howitzers on the left; we judged them to be of large calibre by the noise of the bursts and the powerful effect of the explosions.
It was difficult to range on the enemy's guns, thanks to the use they made of the ground; we were shooting by guess-work at unseen targets. In addition to this, their fire was extraordinarily accurate and concentrated by turns on each battery. At 6.45 a.m. the fire slacked off, and at 7.45 there was a lull all along the position.
I was struck by the calmness and endurance of the gunners during the whole time of this, their first artillery battle; whence did they get it? No exhibition of fear for their lives was at all visible. It was not that they did not realize the danger, and had not yet seen any wounded, because up to the end of the siege they behaved in the same way—like men. If we bow before the heroes of the late war, we must first bow before the gallant defenders of Port Arthur.