When he left I accompanied him, while Semenoff, after conducting us to the Lunwantun Valley, went on to the outpost line. We finally arrived at the foot of Rocky Ridge, on which was the howitzer section. Kondratenko was evidently anxious, and was astounded on reaching this place to find that the howitzers had been run down below. 'Why is this? I sent orders that I would shell Kuen-san to-day. Who has altered them?' he asked angrily.
It seemed that Fock had had the howitzers run down. Kondratenko gave instructions for them to be brought back immediately; but while they were being dragged up the very steep ascent it began to get dark, and a cloud settled on the top of Kuen-san. By the time they had been got into position again half of the hill was in cloud, which concealed the enemy's works. It was now useless to attempt to fire. Kondratenko was furious, but did not show it in the presence of the various officers, and as it was now rapidly getting dark, we started to return. On the way back I for the first time saw him angry, and he used no measured language with regard to General Fock's interference. After giving his final instructions to Semenoff, he went back to Port Arthur. Semenoff then expressed his opinion that the idea of not holding on as long as possible to the advanced positions was absurd, though it was common.
He was quite right. For some time before the battle of July 26 I often heard the opinion expressed by officers that a dogged defence of the advanced positions would be detrimental to the ultimate defence of the Fortress. It seemed more and more as if the general inclination was to sit tight in the permanent works as being the easiest course. Having little knowledge as to the state of our bomb-proofs or of their durability, people drew a most rosy picture of the defence of the actual Fortress under a strict blockade. They thought that the bomb-proofs would save them. They compared the defence with that of Sevastopol, but unfortunately forgot that guns and shells are now somewhat different. They forgot that Sevastopol was in direct and unbroken communication with Russia, where the sick could be sent and whence reinforcements could come, and they forgot that, even under these favourable conditions, Sevastopol eventually fell into the enemy's hands. Port Arthur, completely isolated from the world, with a minimum reserve of provisions, ammunition, and men, and with incompleted works, was a trap for the army and fleet. People did not realize that the longer we held the enemy on the advanced positions, the longer time we should have to do in Arthur itself what we had left undone.
Next morning, just as a few men were moving about amongst the horse lines and the camp was beginning to wake up, a distant boom was heard in the direction of Oytse-laza Hill. I looked at my watch: it was past half-past six. After a few moments we heard a second report, somewhat nearer, then a third and a fourth, each louder and nearer, and shells hurtled through the air and burst quite close to our tents. In a very short time the bivouacs had disappeared, for the majority of us had lain down without undressing, and the cannonade started all along the line. The day and the fight of the 26th had begun. The fire of the enemy's bigger guns, the shells of which were loaded with mélinite, was chiefly concentrated on the batteries under Prince Chkheydsey and Skridloff, and covered the tops of our hills with smoke, while the field and mountain guns kept up a hot shrapnel fire on the infantry trenches, preparing the way for an attack. Our own batteries, which were well concealed, replied steadily. At eight o'clock dense columns of Japanese were seen opposite the right wing of Green Hills, and, supported by the fire of their ships, they advanced in the direction of Big Ridge, just as speedily and in as orderly a manner as if at manœuvres. In front, all along the line of Green Hills, crackled incessant and rapidly increasing musketry fire. The infantry attack began. Thinking that our reserves were massed in Lunwantun Valley the enemy endeavoured to shell it and the approaches to it with shrapnel. By nine o'clock the fight grew hotter, and it rained hard. The fire of rifles and guns was at times so mingled that nothing except the rhythmic rat-tat-tat of the machine-guns could be picked out. From all directions down into the valley came orderlies to Colonel Semenoff, who was now at the mouth of the Litangon Valley.
'Ah! They have begun; they all want support at the same time. Look! there are men coming from the right as well as from the left.'
An orderly galloped up with a note; a second, a third, and then a fourth.
'They all ask for reinforcements. Surely, things are not as bad as all this. Here, Zagorovsky, you go off to the left; and Senkevitch, you go to the right. Go off as quickly as you can and find out what has happened.'
Kondratenko now arrived on the scene, and riding up to Semenoff, was, after a short consultation, soon acquainted with the position. Having given general instructions, he went on to the hill in front, into the zone of fire, in order to see for himself the state of affairs. It was now 10 a.m. Suddenly, in the distance, we noticed men in disorder running down from the right peak of Green Hills.
'What are they up to? Surely they are not retiring? Naumenko, do you see them?'