After steering on their new course for a quarter of an hour, the enemy had again forged a considerable distance ahead, and now the Mikasa, at the head of the column, gradually inclined to starboard to cross our T. I waited for us to incline to starboard also, but the Admiral held on to the old course for some time longer. I guessed that by doing this he hoped to lessen the distance as much as possible, which would naturally have assisted us, since, with our wrecked range-finders and gun-directing positions, our guns were only82 serviceable at close quarters. However, to allow the enemy to cross our T and to subject ourselves to a raking fire was not to be thought of. Counting the moments anxiously I watched and waited. The Mikasa came closer and closer to our course. Our 6-inch starboard turret was already preparing to fire, when—we sharply inclined to starboard. Breathing freely again, I looked around.
Demchinsky had not yet gone below with his men but was hard at work, apparently moving the cartridge boxes of the 47-millimetre guns off the deck into the turret, so that there should be less risk of their exploding in the fire and causing greater damage. I went to ask him what he was doing, but before I was able to say anything the Captain appeared at the top of the ladder just83 behind me. His head was covered with blood and, staggering convulsively, he clutched at the hand-rail. At that moment a shell burst quite close to us and, losing his balance from the sudden explosion, he fell, head foremost, down the ladder. Luckily we saw it and were able to catch him.
“It’s nothing—only a trifle,” he said in his ordinary quick way of speaking. He tried to force a smile and, jumping up, endeavoured to go on. But as to go on to the hospital meant another three ladders, we put him, in spite of his protests, on a stretcher.
A man reported that the after turret had been blown up20 and almost simultaneously84 there resounded above us a rumbling noise accompanied by the sharp clank of falling iron. Something large and heavy fell with a crash; the ship’s boats on the spar-deck were smashed to bits; burning débris fell all round us and we were enveloped in an impenetrable smoke. At the time we did not know what had happened, but afterwards we learned that it was the foremost funnel which had fallen.
The terrified signalmen, losing their presence of mind, huddled together right under the falling spar-deck, and carried us with them in their rush. It took some time before we could compel them to stop and listen to reason.
It was now 2.30 p.m.
85 When the smoke had somewhat cleared I tried to go to the poop to see what had happened to the after turret, but along the upper deck no communication between bow and stern was possible.
I attempted to pass through the upper battery, whence to the poop the nearest way was through the Admiral’s cabin, but here the staff officers’ quarters were burning furiously. Turning back, I met Flag Lieutenant Kruijanoffsky on the ladder hurrying downwards.
“Where are you going to?”
“Into the steering compartment; the rudder is disabled,” he shouted to me in passing.
“That is all that is wanting,” thought I to myself, rushing up on deck.
Quickly going on to the fore-bridge86 I could not at first get my bearings, because, not far to starboard, our fleet was steaming past, bearing on an opposite course. The Navarin,—which ought to have been astern—was now coming up to us, going at full speed and cutting through a big breaker. She especially impressed herself on my memory. It was evident that, owing to our steering gear being out of order, we had turned nearly 16 points.
The line of our fleet was very irregular and the intervals varied, especially in the 3rd squadron. I could not see the leading ships; they were to windward of us and hidden by the smoke of the fires. The enemy was also in the same direction. Taking my bearings by the sun and wind, I should say that our fleet was steering approximately S.E.,87 and the enemy stood to the N.E. of us.
In the event of the flag-ship falling out of the line during the battle, the torpedo-boats Biedovy and Buistry were immediately to come to her assistance in order to take off the Admiral and staff and put them on board an uninjured ship. But, however much I looked on either side, no torpedo-boats were to be seen. Could we signal? But with what? All means of signalling had long since been destroyed.
Meanwhile, though we were unable to see the enemy on account of the smoke, they had a good view of us, and concentrated their fire on the battered battleship in the hope of sinking us. Shells simply poured upon us—a veritable whirlwind of fire and iron.88 Lying almost stationary in the water, and slowly working her engines so as to get on the proper course and follow the fleet, the Suvoroff offered her battered sides in turn to the enemy, firing wildly from those of her guns which were still serviceable, and, alas! they were few in number. The following is what Japanese eye-witnesses wrote about us:21
89
“On leaving the line the flag-ship, though burning badly, still steamed after the fleet, but under the fire we brought to bear upon her, she rapidly lost her foremast and both funnels, besides being completely enveloped in flames and smoke. She was so battered that scarcely any one would have taken her for a ship, and yet, even in this pitiful condition, like the flag-ship which she was, she never ceased to fire as much as possible with such of her guns as were serviceable.”
I will quote another extract from a report on the operations of Admiral Kamimura’s squadron:
“The Suvoroff, subjected to the fire of both our squadrons, left the line. Her upper part was riddled with holes, and she was entirely enveloped in smoke.90 Her masts had fallen and her funnels came down one after the other. She was unable to steer, and her fires increased in density every moment. But, even outside the fighting line, she still continued firing, so that our bravest sailors credited her with making a plucky resistance.”
And now to return to my personal observations and impressions.
Amidst the rumbling fire of our own guns, the bursting of the enemy’s shells, and the roaring of the flames, I was, of course, unable to think about the direction to which we were turning—whether to or from the wind, but I soon found out. When the battleship, turning on her course, lay stern on to the wind, the smoke from the flames of the burning spar-deck leapt right up to the fore-bridge where I was standing.91 While occupied in looking for the torpedo-boats, I had probably not noticed the danger creeping towards me, and only realised it on finding myself enveloped in an impenetrable smoke. Burning air parched my face and hands, while a caustic smell of burning almost blinded me. Breathing was impossible. I felt I must save myself, but to do so I had to go through the flames, for there was no other way on to the poop. For a moment the thought flashed across me to jump from the bridge on to the forward 12-inch turret, but to remember where I was, to choose places to which and whence to jump, was impossible. How did I get out of this hell? Perhaps some of the crew who had seen me on the bridge dragged me out! How I arrived on the upper92 battery on a well-known spot near the ship’s ikon, I can’t remember, and I can’t imagine!
Having recovered my breath, drunk some water and rubbed my eyes, I looked about. It seemed quite pleasant here. The large ikon case was still unbroken, and with the exception of the first shell which had destroyed the temporary dressing station, the quiet of this little corner had apparently been undisturbed. Among some of the crew who were standing by I recognised a few of Demchinsky’s signalmen, and, in reply to my enquiries as to his whereabouts, they told me that having been wounded he had made his way to the hospital.
They were standing silently and outwardly were calm, but from the way93 in which they looked at me I noticed that they were all possessed by some undefined feeling of fear, as well as of expectation and hope. They appeared to believe, or to wish to believe that I was still able to issue the necessary order which would save them, and so they waited. But what order could I give? I might advise them to go below—to take cover under the armoured deck and await their fate, but this they could have done of their own accord. They wanted a different order, for they still felt themselves indispensable to the fight, if it were to be continued. These “tempered” men were just the men we wanted.
And to me, indeed, it seemed useless as well as cruel to shatter their belief—to94 stamp out the last spark of hope—to tell them the hard truth—to say, in fact, that it was of no use our fighting, and that all was over. No! I couldn’t! On the contrary, I was filled with a desire to mislead them—to feed that flame of hope. Rather let them die in the happy consciousness of victory, life, and glory, coming perhaps in a few moments.
As already said, the place where the church was usually rigged22—and which the doctor had (so unluckily) selected for his temporary dressing station—had been fairly fortunate, but now, abaft the centre 6-inch turrets, the fire had commenced to make its way. Proceeding thither, we set to work95 dragging away the burning débris, extinguishing it, or throwing it overboard through the huge holes in the ship’s side. Finding an undamaged water-main and a piece of a hose (without a nozzle), we worked quietly and in earnest. We extinguished some burning furniture, but alongside it, behind the thin, red-hot, steel partition separating us from the officers’ quarters, another fire burst forth, whose roar could at times be heard even amidst the noise of the battle. Occasionally a man fell wounded, and either lay where he was, or got up and walked or crawled to the ladder leading below. No attention was paid to him—What mattered it? one more, one less!
How long we were thus employed—five, ten, or fifteen minutes—I do not96 know, but suddenly the thought occurred to me, “The conning tower—what is happening there?”
I went up quickly, fatigue and depression at once vanishing. My mind was as clear as possible, and I saw at once that, as the smoke was pouring through the great rents on the port side, the starboard mus............