“Take some grenades and throw them into the work,” I said, and I sent about a hundred grenades up to them.
In a few minutes the grenades burst in the work, and then all was silent again. This silence lasted a long time. I could stand the suspense no longer, so sent an officer to Soimonov to find out what was happening.
About two hours afterwards, the officer returned and reported that he had been all round the work along the lower line of trenches and had not met a soul. He had then crawled into an embrasure and looked into the work, where nothing was to be seen but a heap of smouldering planks and beams, with the charred head of a man amongst them. Our men had then immediately reoccupied the breastwork.
Apparently, the Japanese had been driven out by our hand grenades and the place was empty. I at once sent a report of what had occurred, and replaced the sailors by a company of rifles which had just arrived.
I unfortunately forgot the name of the plucky young officer who had climbed into the breastwork, but it is not too late for him to come forward now, and, if he does, he will certainly receive the St. George’s Cross.
My back began to ache a good deal with a kind of burning sensation. All the time I had not undressed to see if my wound from the bursting shell was serious or not, and, besides this, I was absolutely worn out. I felt I ought to try and regain my strength, and eagerly awaited a reply to my request for permission to leave the hill to have my wound examined and properly dressed. Sanction was at length given, and Second-Lieutenant Organov was sent to take my place; but he told me before I left, that, as he knew nothing whatever about the fortifications on the hill and their disposition, he could not, therefore, hope to be an efficient commandant, and begged me to come back as soon as possible. I promised to return the following morning, and then went off to the staff headquarters.
Dr. Theodore S. Troitski examined me, and found a small punctured wound from a splinter, which had been driven some distance into my back, and also a large blue bruise. When my servant, Peter Ravinski, shook out my grey wool-lined jacket, quite a quantity of small splinters fell out. The thick wadding and cloth had prevented them from penetrating, and they had lodged in the lining. Only one—probably larger than the others—had gone right through and caused the wound. After a short conversation with General Kondratenko, I lay down to sleep.
The following day (December 2) the senior doctor in the fortress came to the staff quarters in the morning and had me taken to Field Hospital No. 9, where Dr. Krjivetz operated, but failed to remove the splinter. He said that to look for it would involve tearing open the wound, and as the splinter was very small, judging by the puncture, he thought it better to leave it for the present.
After the operation I returned to the staff. General Kondratenko, who was already there, seemed to be in a very uneasy frame of mind.