An hour later the sailors were all collected, and I only forgave them their foolish action in consideration of their splendid previous attack, and the way they had driven the Japanese out of the breastwork. I ordered the naval officers to be always with their men and not to stay in the bomb-proofs, reminding them that this was the second time the sailors had been guilty of leaving their post.
Night had already fallen—for me always a trying time, as it is impossible to exercise effective control in the darkness—and the only thing I could do was to walk about the hill and encourage my men by talking to them. But my voice had almost entirely gone, from constantly shouting in the daytime.
When it had got quite dark, some sappers arrived, bringing sand-bags. Reinforcements—two companies—also came up. I decided to let those actually in the fighting line sleep, and to make those who had just arrived work; but what sleep and what work were possible under a hail of every kind of shell? We had available for night work, besides Lieutenant Fenster and Acting Ensign Yermakov, Lieutenant Reinbott of the Fortress Mining Company. Though I was really dog-tired those last two days, still I did not feel as if I wanted either to eat or sleep.
As soon as day broke on the 30th, the firing increased in volume, and we witnessed the utter destruction of the right face of the left breastwork by the agency of several well-aimed 11-inch projectiles. Luckily, the enemy failed to do much damage to the side which was open to his constant attacks, but the inner ditch was completely filled with dead bodies, both of our own men and the Japanese, which we were unable to remove. It was impossible to do so, as in the daytime this face of the work was swept by shrapnel from the flank and rear, and at night our men there were always on the “qui vive” for an attack, and could not leave the cover of the breastwork; besides which a great many men would be needed to carry away the dead, and we had no one to spare.
At 8 a.m. the Japanese suddenly attacked the left breastwork, captured the front portion, and raised their flag. The sight of this flag always filled our men with fury. I knew this, and, pointing to it, shouted to the reserve: “Go and take it down, my lads!” and, like one man, our sailors rushed into the work. I led them for some distance, and a moment after there was no sign of the Japanese or their flag to be seen. Twice more the hostile flag made its appearance on top of the hill, but each time it was torn down by my handful of reserves.
At about 11 a.m., or a little earlier, I was in the telephone bomb-proof with the commandant, Major Stempnevski, Acting Ensign Yermakov, and several naval officers. Suddenly we heard shouts and irregular rifle firing. I rushed out on to the road, and this is what I saw. Our men were in full flight from the centre of the hill and the left flank, and many of them were simply tumbling head over heels in their hurry to get away. Not far from the bomb-proof I had to jump over the body of a Japanese, apparently just killed. I began to shout “Stop, stop!” and in order to enforce my words I drew my sword and hit one after another (with the flat, of course), Lieutenant Podgourski and the other officers with me doing the same. The men heeded my voice, and, stopping where they were, opened a straggling fire on the top of the hill. I was then anxious to go to the reserve, as, owing to the firing, my voice could not carry so far, but fearing that my men might follow after me, I did not myself go back, but sent Yermakov.
By this time we could see Japanese soldiers springing up on to the top, and they began at once to fire along the road. At the same moment several dozen men scrambled up to me from below, and, standing round me, began to fire and shout hoarsely “Hurrah!” In the midst of all this noise and firing I felt that matters had passed beyond my control, while all the time the number of the Japanese on the hill was growing and growing. Luckily, the reserves were not more than 10 paces from me now, and I already saw Yermakov and Fenster ahead of me; they both had rifles. The only thing to be done now was to make a rush with the new-comers and the men I had round me, and this we did. Those who had retreated, finding they were reinforced, threw themselves on the Japanese with a deafening shout, and we were once again masters of the hill.
Had not the reserve come up at the critical moment, we should have been driven off the hill, and then, indeed, it would have been impossible to retake it, as the Japanese were being strongly reinforced. Once on the summit again it was quite easy for us to throw down hand grenades. They rolled down and caused fearful havoc among the retreating enemy. Our rifles and artillery, which both opened a heavy fire on the foot of the hill and the neighbouring ravines, were a helpful addition to the grenades. In less than ten minutes the Japanese had disappeared into their trenches, and once more we breathed freely.
Without waiting for the enemy’s guns to open fire, I took my men back into the reserve bomb-proofs; and it was fortunate I did so, as almost immediately shells began to burst over the top, covering it with a cloud of poisonous black smoke. Once again our slightly and badly wounded men began to hobble, or be carried, away from the summit.
It was a terrible sight; still it was wonderful to behold how these heroes died fearlessly or suffered without complaint.