GUN IN KUROPATKIN’S LUNETTE.
p. 294]
We all rushed up on to the hill, but nothing was visible save the smoke from our own batteries and from bursting shrapnel. All our forts were smothered with shell, though we could not see the enemy’s infantry. I tried to get some news through the telephone, but it was already overtaxed and continuously in use.
Only in the evening did we learn that the Japanese had made a fierce attack on the Chinese Wall and Naval Ridge beyond. This attack had been repulsed with enormous loss to the enemy, who had, however, succeeded in fortifying themselves at the foot of Naval Ridge, and thus enfiladed the Chinese Wall. Still, even that was not of supreme importance, since the Chinese Wall had a number of traverses and splinter-proofs along it.
In my section all was quiet. We had not a single man in reserve, but even so we believed we could beat back every attack. This was not the case, however, on Lao-tieh Shan, where Major Romanovski had practically only our mounted Scout Detachments. The enemy constantly attacked them, and captured another hill near Pigeon Bay. This was decidedly serious, as now the Japanese had nothing but these scouts between them and the other half of the western front, where there was but a remnant of the 27th Regiment, the main portion of it being required on the front attacked, which was held by only a few men.
Fortunately, the Japanese seemed content with the success already gained, and settled down for their usual long rest, or, possibly, their men were also required on the front of attack.
On December 31, after tea, we received news of a further disaster. Yet once again in this disastrous war had fortune favoured the Japanese. Fort Sung-shu had been blown up, and, what was worse, in one stroke the whole garrison had been annihilated. This is what had happened: About a thousand hand grenades had been stored in an excavation which the garrison also used as a shelter. A Japanese shell burst, detonating these grenades, and the whole place collapsed on the garrison. This was a fearful blow to us, and we deeply lamented the death of our gallant comrades and their commandant.[126]
Fate had indeed played us a sorry trick!
We were all dispirited, and few cared to partake of dinner that night.