TO THE EVERLASTING MEMORY
OF THE HEROES WHO
PERISHED!
THE BATTLE OF TSU-SHIMA
In memory of the Suvoroff!
CHAPTER I
A fresh breeze mournfully droned through the wire rigging and angrily dispersed the ragged, low-lying clouds. The troubled waters of the Yellow Sea splashed against the side of the battleship, while a thin, cold, blinding rain fell, and the raw air penetrated to one’s very bones. But a group of officers still stood on the after-bridge, watching the silhouettes of the transports slowly disappearing in the rain haze.
On their masts and yard-arms signals were being flown, the last messages and final requests of those who had been our fellow-travellers on the long tedious voyage.
Why is it that at sea a friendly greeting of this kind, expressed merely by a combination of flags, touches one’s heart so deeply, and speaks to it even more than salutes, cheers, or music? Why is it that until the signal has been actually hauled down every one looks at it, silently and intently, as if real words, instead of motley-coloured pieces of cloth, were fluttering in the breeze, and becoming wet with rain? Why is it that on the signal being hauled down every one turns away, quietly moving off to his duty, as if the last quiet handshake had been given, and “good-bye” had been said for ever?
“Well!—how about the weather?” said some one—to break the silence.