THE BATTLE OF TAIPO-SHAN
AFTER we repulsed the enemy at Kenzan in their desperate attempts at retaking the hill, our position increased daily in strength. On the one hand, every preparation was being made for an aggressive movement. Twelve guns captured at Nanshan were arranged on the heights near Lwanni-chiao, and six heavy naval guns were placed on the height to the west of Chuchin-antsu. On the other hand, powerful scouting parties were being frequently dispatched to ascertain the arrangement of the advance posts of the enemy. At this time, the enemy’s main position was on the steep hills between Eijoshi in the north with Shwangtai-kou and Antsu-ling in the middle, and Taipo-shan and Laotso-shan in the south. They had fortified these naturally strong places with everything that money and time could afford, fully determined not to allow us Japanese to advance even one step south of this line. So it was extremely difficult to take this position by storm. But we had been drawing our bow for a month, and were now quite ready and anxious to let the arrow go. The opportunity ripened, the men’s morale was at its best. On July 26, all the columns and corps started from our position with one accord to descend upon the Russian position in the south.
The sole objective of the regiment to which I belonged was the strongly fortified Taipo-shan, on which the enemy relied as the most important point in their advance position. On the night previous to the opening of hostilities the plan of campaign was minutely explained to us; the brigadier-general specially urged officers and men to do their uttermost and never to stop until the place was captured, saying that this battle was the first important step toward the real investment of Port Arthur, and that we were to attack the strongest of the enemy’s advance posts. Our colonel also addressed us, and said that this was the first time that our regiment was to fight as a whole; that the final victory of a battle is, in fact, won early in the struggle; that all our lives belonged to him as our commander and that he would not hesitate to sacrifice them, but would resort to whatever means he might think advisable, during the act of fighting. He also told us that this was the time for us to put to test the spirit of Bushidō,[46] in which we had been long and carefully trained; that we must remember his every-day instructions in general and the one given on the day of our departure from the garrison in particular, so that we might concentrate our thoughts and aspirations upon justifying His Majesty’s gracious trust in us, and be ready to fall, all of us, under the honored banner of our regiment. This was truly a solemn injunction! The commanders of the battalions and companies followed suit, and each of us was carefully put in mind of his duty and urged to do his very best to keep the honor of the regiment unsullied. Thus our already willing determination was made still firmer and stronger. We were in such an uplifted state of mind that we had taken the whole of Taipo-shan before beginning hostilities.
The scene in the camp presented an extraordinary sight during the night previous to our march. Comrade was whispering with comrade here and there. Some there were who grasped their rifles lightly and smiled a lonely smile by themselves. Others changed to their best and cleanest underwear, so that they might not disgrace themselves before the enemy, dead in dirty clothing. Still others were looking vacantly into the heavens and singing in an undertone. And what was I thinking at this moment? All, I hope, were equally anxious to be able to die happy and contented, saying, “I have done my duty, by the blessing of Heaven.”
Before daybreak of the 26th of July, when the fog was so thick that we could not see a foot ahead, and a cool breeze was sweeping through space after the shower of the previous evening, thousands of warriors began to move like a long serpent through the dark. At 3 A. M. we reached the foot of Iwayama, which was assigned to the reserve of our regiment. On the top of this hill was the position for the skirmishers; another hill to the right was assigned to the artillery. Until the signal for opening hostilities was given, even one man’s head was not allowed to be thrust out of the line. All loaded their guns and were breathlessly waiting for the colonel’s order, “Fire!” He was standing on the top of Iwayama with his field-glasses in his hand; his aide-de-camp stood before him with an open map, and occasionally fumbled about in his knapsack. Pack-horses loaded with ammunition were gathered together at the foot of the hill, and the soldiers detailed to distribute it were eagerly waiting to begin work. The signal was to be a cannon-shot; we studied the hands of our watches and our hearts jumped as the time went on minute after minute.
At forty-nine minutes past seven, the first roar was at last heard on the left wing. It was the signal for commencing attack on the enemy along Laotso-shan and Taipo-shan. For the last twenty days, we had not discharged a single shot, so this cannon report must have taken the enemy unawares, and their hurried response sounded dull and sleepy and went high above our heads. Our plan was that the left wing should first attack and defeat the enemy on Laotso-shan, and then our detachment was to reinforce it. So we had to remain idle for some time and watch the progress of their attack on Laotso-shan. After a while, our naval guns began to make such a tremendous noise, that we hoped the enemy would soon be scared to death and give up their advance posts as our easy prey. But they proved stronger than we thought and did not disperse themselves like baby-spiders before our assault.
The fight increased in severity as time went on; our whole artillery was concentrated upon the heavy artillery on the northern slope of Laotso-shan and endeavored with might and main to silence them. After some time, when the enemy’s fire had slackened a little, our infantry of the left wing began to march forward under the protecting fire of our artillery. At once they captured a crescent-shaped height, about two thousand metres ahead of us; immediately afterward they turned to the left and occupied the northern shoulder of Laotso-shan at ten o’clock. It seemed that the Russians had not fortified these places very strongly, for, after some resistance, they gave up the large fort on the important spot of Laotso-shan. Still their resistance was quite stubborn, and even when our infantry occupied the top of the hill, a portion of the enemy still stuck to the southern slope and stood fearlessly and desperately under our concentrated downward fire. This was the cause of the long duration of this attack. Eventually our left wing succeeded in routing and driving them away from this spot; but they had the inlet of Lungwang-tang at their back and could not retreat in that direction. Soon they were hard pressed and obliged to leave many dead and wounded behind; the remainder jumped into junks and concealed themselves on the opposite side of the inlet.
The work assigned to the left wing being thus finished, our regiment now had the great opportunity of attacking the enemy. Whereupon Colonel Aoki ordered all his captains, “Whole line begin firing from the right.” All at once the whole line thrust out its head, the first and second battalions on the right and the third on the left. Their firing sounded like popping corn. As soon as we began, the Russian bullets began to fall in large drops about us, stirring up sand, kicking stones, and felling men. Those that passed near our ears made a whistling sound, and those going high through the air, a trembling boom. Our skirmish-line, forming a long chain, lost its links here and there; the carriers of stretchers ran hither and thither conveying the dead and wounded to the first aids. There was not only the hail of rifle-shot, but large projectiles began to burst over our heads and emit white smoke. The fragments of shell fell on the ground with a thud and made holes, or pierced the skirmishers’ heads from above. Sometimes the empty case of a shell would go past the hill and fall in the midst of our reserve. While I was still with the reserve I actually saw a soldier, who was struck by such an empty shell, lose his right arm and die on the spot. When we examined an empty shell later on, we discovered inside it, first a piece of overcoat, then a piece of coat, then a piece of undershirt, then flesh and bone, then again underwear, coat, and overcoat, together with grass and pebbles stained with blood.
This struggle lasted for several hours; the enemy’s artillery was very strong and we could not find a chance to go forward. Our dead and wounded increased so fast that the stretchers prepared were not sufficient. The fire reached even the first aid stations far in the rear. Some wounded soldiers there were injured again or killed. It was a desperate fight. The reserves were brought about to the left of the artillery’s position, so that they could form an assaulting column at a moment’s notice and rush upon the enemy when the opportunity came. At this time I was with them, carrying the regimental flag. Because our position was with the artillery and because the flag was a great target for the enemy, the Russians in Wangchia-tun began at once a fierce fire on us. Their concentrated fire was well aimed, and their shells came like rain, falling sideways in the wind. When the smoke cleared away for a minute, we found a lieutenant who had, just a moment before, been bravely ordering his men, lying dead covered with blood. The chief of the gun detachment and also the gunners were torn to pieces, their brains gushing out and their bowels mixing with mud and blood. When the reserve gunners went to take their places, they also were killed. Such a bloody scene can never be realized without an actual sight; my pen is powerless to describe it.
Our reserve having suffered no small loss before the strong fire of the enemy, we had no resource left but to try a desperate assault upon them. Every moment longer that we remained in this position meant the loss of so many more men. Clouds had been gathering and lowering in the sky for some time; it was dark and dreary. Soon the swift wind ran side by side with powder and smoke, and muddy rain fell obliquely with the shot and shell. At this dismal stage of affairs we, the reserves, were ordered to join the colonel. We at once left the artillery and began to march to the left, clambering over the rocks. The sharp wind flapped the colors violently, and I feared that they might be torn to pieces any moment. At this juncture a shell burst over my head and its fragments rent the air; a part of the flag was blown away, a man was killed, and a piece of the shell fell into a valley far behind us.