That night our sentries reported that great numbers of the enemy were working between Saddle Hill and Namako Yama, and when I came to look next morning I saw an unbroken line of trenches, revetted with sand-bags, stretching from Saddle Hill to Namako Yama. On a not far-distant hillock, lying to the west, I noticed a short length of trench, also revetted, and the enemy was apparently working at it from both sides. It was a sap!
From three points of the trench between Akasaka Yama and Saddle Hill the Japanese had begun to make passages for sapping operations. Hurrah! the enemy had had enough of direct attacks and was going to undertake regular siege works against our trenches.
I went from 203 Metre Hill to Akasaka Yama. Good progress had been made there, and now it was possible to live in the trenches, and a stubborn defence might be reckoned on. From Akasaka Yama I had to cross over to Division Hill. This had to be done as quickly as possible, as the Japanese always fired on men crossing in the open, and the need of a communication trench between those points was becoming very pressing. I was very tired after my tramp through the trenches, and by the time I reached the 7th Company on Division Hill I was panting for breath. All the enemy’s works against my section were to be clearly seen from here. Every hill and mound that were so familiar to me were crowned with Japanese trenches. They had closed in towards us considerably, and the approaches between the front and rear lines of trenches were plainly visible. Behind Extinct Volcano I saw a typical sap with traverses, leading straight up towards the left flank of Division Hill. Through my glasses I could actually see the men at work.
I explained the significance of these works to officers and men on all the hills, and ordered the former to call for volunteers and make sorties, to destroy the sap-heads and the men working in them; in this way I gave full scope to Russian enterprise, which I always encouraged in every way I could think of.
The capture of Namako Yama made intercommunication along the rear of our positions extremely difficult. Now we had to construct a regular network of communication trenches, entailing very heavy work. I was fortunate in having Major Gemmelmann, Ensign Yermakov, and Lieutenant Fetter with me to assist me with my field fortifications.
It was not necessary for me now to point out the position of each trench, for our officers fully understood the end and object of sappers’ work, and were themselves competent to undertake it.
The fearful effect of small hand grenades demonstrated to us the necessity of having a store or magazine of them, so Colonel Irman applied to General Kondratenko, who lost no time in giving the necessary orders.
Lieutenant Melik-Porsadanov was ordered to construct a melinite factory, and was given the necessary men for working it. In a few days we were able to test the efficiency of this factory. Before, however, we utilized its products, our gunners proposed that they should fire some of these small shell at the enemy from their mountain guns, using time fuzes. Some hundreds were immediately supplied to them, with instructions in their use. They were distributed among the gunners in the advanced positions.
From this time, in the evenings, we set to work to devise a means of replacing the slow-match in the grenades by some kind of firing mechanism. Our miners showed the highest inventive powers and thought out and tried several excellent designs. It is a pity that they took such a long time to make, as Bickford’s slow-match remained to the end of the siege practically the only method of ignition. The soldiers, as was natural, were all for having grenades that would burst on impact.
A grenade with a slow-match is a very imperfect weapon. One has only to put oneself in the place of a rifleman, almost face to face with the enemy, lighting the slow-match of the grenade in a wind. The match is blown out—he lights another; but the enemy is all the time climbing up closer and closer. At last the slow-match catches, the grenade is thrown amongst the enemy, in a second there is a fearful explosion, and the foe has disappeared. There is nothing left but a pall of black smoke, and over it, high into the air, fly scraps of clothing and portions of human bodies—arms, legs, and heads. That is roughly the effect of a 5-lb. pyroxylin bomb. Our men give a shout of “Hurrah!” and the survivors of the stupefied enemy fly headlong down the hill and hide in their trenches. But it sometimes happens that the slow-match goes out, or the bomb bursts after the enemy has passed it. For the future, before the outbreak of war, some kind of practical mechanism must be fitted to pyroxylin and melinite grenades.