After our regiment was ready to start, one sad affair took place. Togo Miyatake was one of those who were lodged in a Buddhist temple called Kwan-nonji to wait for a later summons. He was in good health and excellent spirits. When leaving home he had promised his parents, brothers, and friends that he would be among the first to help win battles. Now, instead of dying in the field, he had to wait, doing nothing. He did not know when he would be sent. This was too great a humiliation for him to bear. He thought it better to kill himself, so that his spirit, freed from the shackles of the body, might be at the front to work with his living comrades. Left in such a situation as he was, poor Togo’s narrow but strong sense of patriotism made him resolve on suicide as the most honorable way of escape. Late one night when his friends were fast asleep he scribbled a line of farewell to this effect:
“I am more sorry than I can possibly bear not to be at the front with the others. No one would take me in spite of my entreaties. I will prove my loyalty with death.”
Thus prepared, he drew a dagger from a whitewood sheath[12] and cut across the abdomen, whispering Banzai to the Emperor in a shower of tears. This took place on the 12th of May in a lonely corner of an old tottering temple, when the sound of rain dripping from the eaves made the sad scene still sadder. But good Heaven seemed to take compassion on such a faithful soldier. His friends awoke and came to the rescue. He was sent to a hospital. His wound healed in due time, he was discharged, and later he was allowed to go to the front. Cold reason may call this man a fool, or a fanatic, but his heart was pure and true. This incident testifies to the childlike simplicity of devotion that prevailed throughout the whole army.
Russia prided herself on her vast territory and immense soldiery, but her people did not believe in the Czar’s virtue. They were oppressed and trampled upon by his ministers and officials. They were therefore not at all anxious to support the government in this war. Cossacks had to drive the unwilling men to Manchuria at the point of the bayonet. Yes, Russian fighters were brave and strong, but lacking in morale, the first requisite of a successful war. We, on the contrary, had an invincible spirit called Yamato-damashii,[13] disciplined under the strict rules of military training.
All the manifold details of business connected with mobilization were prosecuted with mechanical exactness and promptitude, as had been previously planned out. Everything was now ready and we were all eagerly waiting for the day of departure.
What an exciting happy time we had, while thus waiting and watching! We stroked our arms, itching for action, sharpened our swords, pictured to ourselves what we would do on the actual battle-field. Many a soldier must have flourished his glittering sword, as I did, and smiled significantly in the midnight moonlight of the quiet garrison ground.
When all necessary preparations were finished, our colonel put us through an armed inspection. The large drill-ground from one end to the other was filled with thousands of men and officers, each provided with his outfit,—arms, food, clothing and so on. Soon they were to brave, shoulder to shoulder, flying shot and thundering noise, pestilential rain and poisonous fog, eating together and sleeping together as comrades and brothers in danger and privation.
To the stirring sound of trumpets, our famous regimental flag was brought to the centre and an imposing ceremony of welcome to the flag was conducted by Colonel Aoki. The lives of the brave three thousand gathered round him were all in his hands. He has since told me that he was overwhelmed with a sense of great responsibility and with a feeling of proud exhilaration when he saw on that occasion how eager and ready they all were. At the conclusion of this ceremony our commander gave us a speech of instruction, in such thrilling words as made us bite our lips and tremble with emotion.
At the conclusion of such an armed inspection a few days later, Brigadier-General Yamanaka, then in command of our brigade, gave us a written piece of advice, in which the following words were contained:—
“The flag of your regiment has already won a glorious name in the Japan-China War. Its fame is impressed upon the minds of all. You have the responsibility of keeping this honor unsullied. You are in duty bound to add to its splendor. And whether you will do so or not, solely depends upon your determination. Remember, that if you once bring a spot of disgrace upon the flag an opportunity of washing it away will not easily come. Do not destroy by a single failure the honor which your flag has retained since its first battle. I deem it my highest glory to share in ups and downs, to live and die with you officers and men beneath this historic flag.