On my asking him if he felt strong enough to continue in command, and what ship he wished to board, he turned towards me with an effort, and for a while seemed trying to remember something.
“No—where am I? You can see—command—Nebogatoff,” he muttered indistinctly, and then, with a sudden burst of energy, added, “Keep on Vladivostok—course N.23°E.,” and again relapsed into a stupor.
Having sent his reply to the flag Captain (I don’t remember by whom, but I think it was by Leontieff) I intended to remain in the ward-room, but there was no room. All the cabins and even the upper deck were full of men, as, before coming to the Suvoroff, the Buiny had picked up over 200 men at the spot where the Oslyabya sank. Amongst them were wounded sailors who had been swimming about in the salt water, and others who, when taken up, had been half drowned. The latter, contracted with cramp, and racked with tormenting coughs and pains in their chests, seemed with their bluish faces to be in a worse plight than the most badly wounded.
Passing on to the upper deck I seated myself on a box by the ladder to the officers’ quarters.
Signals were fluttering from our mast and orders were being given by semaphore to the torpedo-boats, Bezuprechny and Biedovy, which were now close up to us.[29] We had already caught up the fleet and were steaming, together with the transports, which were covered, ahead and to starboard, by our cruisers. Still further to starboard, and some 30 cables off, was our main force. The Borodino was leading, and after her came the Orel; but the Alexander was nowhere to be seen.[30] In the distance, still further off, could dimly be made out in the dusk, which was now rapidly creeping on, the silhouettes of the Japanese ships—steaming parallel to us. The flashes of their guns twinkled incessantly along the line, but the stubborn fight was not yet at an end!
Alongside of me I recognised an officer of the Oslyabya, and asked him what had actually caused his ship to sink?
Waving his arm in a helpless sort of way, and in a voice full of disgust, he jerked out: “How? it’s not very pleasant to remember. Absolutely no luck, that’s what sunk her. Nothing but bad luck! They shot straight enough—but it wasn’t shooting. It wasn’t skill either. It was luck—infernal luck! Three shells, one after the other, almost in the same identical spot—Imagine it! All of them in the same place! All on the water-line under the forward turret! Not a hole—but a regular gateway! Three of them penetrated her together. She almost heeled over at once—then settled under the water. A tremendous rush of water and the partitions were naturally useless. The devil himself couldn’t have done anything!” he hysterically exclaimed, and, covering his face with his hands, went on deck.
About 7 p.m. the enemy’s torpedo-boats appeared across the course on which our main force was steering, but rapidly drew off as our cruisers opened fire on them.
“Perhaps they’ve laid mines!” I thought to myself, and turned on my box, trying to make myself more easy.
“The Borodino! Look! the Borodino!” was shouted on all sides.