Banzai! by Parabellum

by Ferdinand Heinrich Grautoff

We have seen what a paralyzing effect the opening of fire from the Japanese ships had had on the commander and officers of the Connecticut on the bridge, and the reader can imagine the effect it must have had on the crew—they were dumfounded with terror. The crashing of the heavy steel projectiles above deck, the explosion in the foreward gun-turret, and several shots which had passed through the unarmored starboard side of the forepart of the ship in rapid succession—they were explosive shells which created fearful havoc and filled all the rooms with the poisonous gases of the Shimose-powder—all this, added to the continual ring of the alarm-signals, had completely robbed the crew below deck of their senses and of all deliberation.

At first it was thought to be an accident, and without waiting for orders from above, the fire-extinguishing apparatus was got ready. But the bells continued to ring on all sides, and the crashing blows that shook the ship continually became worse and worse. On top of this came the perfectly incomprehensible news that, unprepared as they were, they were confronted by the enemy, by a Japanese fleet.

All this happened with lightning-like rapidity—so quickly, indeed, that it was more than human nerves could grasp and at the same time remain calm and collected. The reverberations of the bursting shells and the dull rumbling crashes against the armored sides of the casemates and turrets produced an infernal noise which completely drowned the human voice. Frightful horror was depicted on all faces. It took some time to rally from the oppressive, heartrending sensation caused by the knowledge that a peaceful maneuver voyage had suddenly been transformed into the bloody seriousness of war. It is easy enough to turn a machine from right to left in a few seconds with the aid of a lever, but not so a human being.

The men, to be sure, heard the commands and after a few moments' reflection, grasped the terrible truth, but their limbs failed them. It had all come about too quickly, and it was simply impossible to get control of the situation and translate commands into deeds as quickly as the hostile shots demolished things above deck. Many of the crew stood around as though they were rooted to the spot, staring straight in front of them. Some laughed or cried, others did absolutely senseless things, such as turning the valves of the hot-air pipes or carrying useless things from one place to another, until the energetic efforts of the officers brought them to their senses.

Someone called for the keys of the ammunition chambers, and then began a search for the ordnance officer in the passages filled with the poisonous fumes of the Shimose-powder. But it was all in vain, for he lay on the front bridge torn into an unrecognizable mass by the enemy's shells.

At last a young lieutenant with the blood pouring down his cheek in bright red streaks, rushed into the captain's cabin, broke open the closet beside the desk with a bayonet and seized the keys of the ammunition rooms. Now down the stairs and through the narrow openings in the bulkheads, where the thud of the hostile projectiles sounds more and more hollow, and here, at last, is the door of the shell-chamber containing the shells for the 8-inch guns in the forward starboard turret.

Inside the bells rang and rattled, calling in vain for ammunition; but the guns of the Connecticut still remained silent.

The petty officer, hurrying on before his three men, now stood at the telephone.

"Armor-piercing shells, quickly!" came the urgent order from above. And when the electric lever refused to work, the two sailors raised the shell weighing over two hundredweight in their brawny arms and shoved it into the frame of the lift, which began to move automatically.

"Thank God," said the lieutenant in command of the turret, as the first shell appeared at the mouth of the dark tube. Into the breech with it and the two cartridges after it. When the lieutenant had taken his position at the telescope sight in order to determine the direction and distance for firing, orders came down from the commander to fire at the enemy's leading ship, the Satsuma. The distance was only 2800 yards, so near had the enemy come. And at this ridiculously short distance, contrary to all the rules of naval warfare, the Americans opened fire.