“Now the fun will begin,” thought I to myself, going up to the after-bridge, which seemed to be the most convenient place for carrying out my duty of seeing and noting down everything, as from there I could see both the enemy and our own fleet. Lieutenant Reydkin, commanding the after starboard 6-inch turret, was also there, having dashed up to see what was going on, as the fight was apparently to commence to port, and his turret would not be in action.
52 We stood side by side, exchanging now and again abrupt remarks, not understanding why the Japanese intended crossing to our port side, when our weak spot—the transports and cruisers covering them—was astern, and to starboard of us. Perhaps, having commenced the fight while steering on the opposite course, and having taken advantage of their superior speed, they calculated on rounding us from the stern, in order to fall at the same time on our transports and weak rear! If so, a raking fire would present no difficulties.
“Hullo! Look! What are they up to?” said Reydkin, and his voice betrayed both delight and amazement.
I looked and looked, and, not believing my eyes, could not put down my glasses.53 The Japanese ships had suddenly commenced to turn “in succession” to port, reversing their course!
If the reader recollects what has been said previously on the subject of turns, he will easily understand that this man?uvre made it necessary for all the enemy’s ships to pass in succession over the point on which the leading ship had turned; this point was, so to speak, stationary on the water, making it easy for us to range and aim. Besides—even with a speed of 15 knots, the man?uvre must take about fifteen minutes to complete, and all this time the vessels, which had already turned, would mask the fire of those which were still coming up.
“How rash!” said Reydkin, who could not keep quiet. “Why, in a54 minute we’ll be able to roll up the leading ships!”
“Please God, we may!” thought I.
It was plain to me that Togo, seeing something which he had not expected, had suddenly changed his mind. The man?uvre was undoubtedly risky, but, on the other hand, if he found it necessary to steer on the opposite course, there was no other way of doing it. He might have ordered the fleet to turn “together,” but this would have made the cruiser Iwate the leading ship in action, which he evidently did not wish. Togo accordingly decided to turn “in succession,” in order that he should lead the fleet in person, and not leave success at the commencement of the action to depend upon the presence of mind and enterprise of the junior flag-officer. (The55 Iwate flew Rear-Admiral Simamura’s flag.)
My heart beat furiously, as it had never done before during the six months at Port Arthur. If we succeeded! God grant it! Even though we didn’t sink one of them, if we could only put one out of action! The first success—was it possible?
Meanwhile Rozhdestvensky hastened to avail himself of this favourable opportunity.
At 1.49 p.m., when the man?uvre had been performed by the Mikasa and Shikishima (two only out of the twelve), the Suvoroff fired the first shot at a range of 6,400 yards, and the guns of the whole fleet thundered forth. I watched closely through my glasses. The shots which went over and those which fell56 short were all close, but the most interesting, i.e. the hits, as in the fight of 10th August, could not be seen. Our shells on bursting emitted scarcely any smoke, and the fuses were adjusted to burst inside after penetrating the target. A hit could only be detected when something fell—and nothing fell! In a couple of minutes, when the Fuji and Asahi had turned also and were following the first ships, the enemy began to reply.
The first shells flew over us. At this range some of the long ones turned a complete somersault, and could clearly be seen with the naked eye curving like so many sticks thrown in the air. They flew over us, making a sort of wail, different to the ordinary roar.
57 “Are those the portmanteaus?”13 I asked Reydkin, smiling.
“Yes. Those are they.”
But what struck me most was that these “portmanteaus,” curving awkwardly head over heels through the air and falling anyhow on the water, exploded the moment they touched its surface. This had never happened before.
After them came others short of us—nearer and nearer. Splinters whistled through the air, jingled against the side and superstructure. Then, quite close and abreast the foremost funnel, rose a gigantic pillar of smoke, water and flame. I saw stretchers being carried58 along the fore-bridge, and I leaned over the rail.
“Prince Tsereteli!”14 shouted Reydkin from below, in reply to my silent question, as he went towards his turret.
The next shell struck the side by the centre 6-inch turret, and there was a tremendous noise behind and below me on the port quarter. Smoke and tongues of fire leapt out of the officers’ gangway; a shell having fallen into the captain’s cabin, and having penetrated the deck, had burst in the officers’ quarters, setting them on fire.
And here I was able to observe, and not for the first time, the stupor which seems to come over men, who have never been in action before, when the first shells begin to fall. A stupor which59 turns easily and instantaneously, at the most insignificant external shock, into either uncontrollable panic which cannot be allayed, or into unusually high spirits, depending on the man’s character.
The men at the fire mains and hoses stood as if mesmerised, gazing at the smoke and flames, not understanding, apparently, what was happening. I went down to them from the bridge, and with the most commonplace words, such as “Wake up! Turn the water on!”—got them to pull themselves together and bravely to fight the fire.
I was taking out my watch and pocket-book to make a note of the first fire, when something suddenly struck me in the waist, and something large and soft, though heavy, hit me in the back, lifting60 me up and hurling me on to the deck. When I again got up, my note-book and watch were in my hands as before. My watch was going; but the second hand was slightly bent, and the glass had disappeared. Stupefied by the blow, and not myself, I began carefully to hunt for it on the deck, and found it unbroken. Picking it up, I fitted it in to my watch—and, only then realising that I had been occupied with something of no importance, I looked round.
I had probably been unconscious for some time, as the fire had been extinguished, and, save for two or three dead bodies on which water was pouring from the torn hoses, no one was to be seen. Whatever had struck me had come from the direction of the deck house61 aft, which was hidden from me by a mantlet of hammocks. I looked in the direction where the flag-officers, with a party of poop signalmen, should have been. The shell had passed through the deck house, bursting inside. Of the ten or twelve signalmen, some seemed to be standing by the starboard 6-inch turret, others seemed to be lying in a huddled group. Inside was a pile of something, and on the top lay an officer’s telescope.
“Is this all that is left?” I wondered, but I was wrong, as by some miracle Novosiltseff and Kozakevitch were only wounded and, helped by Maximoff, had gone to the dressing station, while I was lying on the deck occupied with mending my watch.
“Hullo! a scene that you are62 accustomed to? Like the 10th August?” said the irrepressible Reydkin, peeping out of his turret.
“Just the same!” I replied in a confident tone. But it was hardly so: indeed, it would have been more correct to say—“Not in the least like.”
On 10th August, in a fight lasting some hours, the Cesarevitch was struck by only nineteen large shells, and I, in all seriousness, had intended in the present engagement to note the times and the places where we were hit, as well as the damage done. But how could I make detailed notes when it seemed impossible even to count the number of projectiles striking us? I had not only never witnessed such a fire before, but I had never imagined anything like it. Shells seemed to be63 pouring upon us incessantly, one after another.15
After six months with the Port Arthur squadron I had grown indifferent to most things. Shimose and melinite were to a certain extent old acquaintances, but this was something new. It seemed as if these were mines, not shells, which were striking the ship’s side and falling on the deck. They burst as soon as they touched anything—the moment they encountered the least impediment in their flight. Handrails, funnel guys, topping lifts of the boats’ derricks, were quite sufficient to cause a thoroughly efficient burst. The steel64 plates and superstructure on the upper deck were torn to pieces, and the splinters caused many casualties. Iron ladders were crumpled up into rings, and guns were literally hurled from their mountings.
Such havoc would never be caused by the simple impact of a shell, still less by that of its splinters. It could only be caused by the force of the explosion. The Japanese had apparently succeeded in realising what the Americans had endeavoured to attain in inventing their “Vesuvium.”
In addition to this, there was the unusual high temperature and liquid flame of the explosion, which seemed to spread over everything. I actually watched a steel plate catch fire from a burst. Of course, the steel did not65 burn, but the paint on it did. Such almost non-combustible materials as hammocks, and rows of boxes, drenched with wat............