There was plenty of flour and small-arm ammunition over there, he said. The troops were in good morale, but needed bucking up by the officers. What could be done for him?
“Nothing,” he replied. “My boy is dead, my wife, my children, where are they? And Russia, ah, Russia, where is she!”
To him Port Arthur had fallen.
[Chapter Seven]
A SON OF THE SOIL
Headquarters Third Imperial Army, Before Port Arthur, Oct. 9th: Often we dine with the Army’s leaders. To-day all the temporary occupants of the headquarters village, which include the human impedimenta of an army, such as the expert on international law, the official photographer and the correspondents, were called to the General’s house. My invitation read:
“Sir: I am desired by General Baron Nogi to write to you, and tell you, with his compliments, that he will be happy if you will favor him with your company at tiffin on Sunday, the 9th inst., at one o’clock. He wishes to become well acquainted with you by having chit-chats. I have the honor to be, sir,
“Your Obedient Servant,
“Y. Yoshioka, Major Aide-de-Camp:
“By Order.”