While our leaders were still playing, writing endless letters, long orders, reports, etc., the enemy made the most of the valuable time; while we were thinking about making reconnaissances, issuing orders for them, and then countermanding them, they came right up to Kinchou; while our General was delaying on the Kinchou position they occupied Mount Samson, whence they could see all we did distinctly; they had concentrated the previous night and were getting their guns into position right under our very noses. And we? The majority of the gunners told me that the fire suddenly opened on the position came as a complete surprise, for at 5 a.m., when it commenced, everyone was peacefully asleep.
After this morning's artillery duel silence again reigned. It was only at 3 p.m. that a few guns began to fire on separate bodies of the enemy, which showed up in the valley of Kinchou and near Mount Samson. Lieutenant Solomonoff opened from his battery, but he did not know what was happening, for he was not connected by telephone to the position. He sent off a mounted orderly for information, but the man had to go two miles. At last it was plain, for dense columns could be seen at the foot of Mount Samson, between the nearest peak and the old Chinese houses. The enemy, extended in thick lines and endless ribbons, commenced to advance against our right flank, under cover of the houses, without firing a single shot; but it was only a demonstration. They wanted to attract our attention to, and make us concentrate our reserve on, that flank.
The whole area was not more than two square miles, and everything could be seen distinctly. The history of warfare throughout the whole world cannot produce another instance where such a big fight, and one with such vital consequences to a war generally, has been waged in such a confined arena. We could not make a single move without the enemy seeing it, for from Mount Samson, which we had presented to them, the Japanese saw everything.
At sunset Solomonoff's battery ceased fire, and orders were received that when night came on the companies were to occupy the trenches on the right flank, and 'be particularly vigilant.' Solomonoff declared that if the position were stormed his battery must at once be destroyed. 'We have no bomb-proofs; instead we have tents, which, though pleasant in summer, are not effective in action. I have nowhere to give shelter to the wounded or to protect the ammunition.' By 9 p.m. every one was ready, and the companies fell in. Saying good-bye to Colonel Radetsky (when I next saw him he was lying naked in a cart, dead), we started for the trenches, and in an hour we were in them. Here thousands of men were waiting for the foe; thousands of eyes were trying to penetrate the darkness. In front of us were the enemy, who were close, and clearly about to attack very soon. We waited anxiously, wondering when and where the blow would be delivered. The narrow neck of land joining the Kwantun Peninsula with the mainland gradually became enveloped in a light fog. The movement of the machine-guns could alone be heard, as troops continued noiselessly to occupy the first and second lines of trenches. The men were very silent, peering ahead over the parapet. Towards the centre of the position were heard occasional shots, rockets flashed out, and the beam of a small searchlight swept the front: the large projector had come up too late to be mounted, and was lying in a ravine. Away down in the valley the advance on the town of Kinchou had commenced, and fighting was going on between the enemy and three sections of the 10th Company of the 5th Regiment.
The sky became more and more overcast, and a strong south-east wind blowing in fitful gusts brought up clouds of dust. It was midnight, and it grew darker. Having said good-bye to the Frontier Guards in the trenches, I went on towards the guns on Lime Hill. The Commanding Officer was lying down in his tent, fully dressed. We went on to the battery, and found everything quiet and the sentries by the guns. The air seemed oppressive and charged with electricity, and in the distance we heard the growl of thunder. There was a blinding flash of lightning, then another, and the rattle of thunder shook the earth: we ran to the tent. The rain poured down as if out of a bucket. By 3 a.m. it had stopped and all was silent; the darkness of night was giving place to the rosy light of the approaching day, and a blanket of haze lay over the valley towards Mount Samson.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] Also known as the battle of Nan-shan.