At six o'clock on the 27th, as soon as the morning haze began to lift, the battle was renewed, and the artillery duel commenced. The enemy's fire was concentrated, as on the day before, principally on Prince Chkheydsey's and Skridloff's batteries, which suffered heavily. The morning was bright and sunny, and the light-green hill-slopes, tinted golden by the rays of the early sun, looked anything but a suitable background for the bloody events to come. Our infantry, sitting in their trenches, which, having no head-cover of any sort, were scarcely worthy of the name, awaited the commencement of the assault under a heavy shell-fire. After being directed on to the valley behind us, evidently to search out our reserves, the enemy's gun-fire slackened and rifle-fire commenced; their infantry advanced. But the nearer they came the more they suffered from our two batteries above-mentioned, and they were forced to lie down and entrench. Meanwhile, some of our ships had come out to assist us, but no sooner had they commenced to shell the enemy's lines than, as on the day before, a superior force of the enemy, appearing from behind Kepp Island, compelled them to withdraw to Port Arthur. One result was that the Bayan struck a mine, and was so seriously damaged that she had to be towed into the eastern basin for considerable repairs. At four in the afternoon the enemy's guns again[Pg 121] got to work, and at 5 p.m. the fourth attack began. When the sun sank down below the hills, Green Hills still remained in our possession, High Hill and Semaphore Hill were lost; but the Japanese were nearer, and entrenched, ready for further efforts on the following day. So close were they in some places that we could hear their conversation. The day was ours, for we still held Green Hills; but how about the morrow? It was impossible to hold the seven miles length of the right flank with so few guns and men. Our reserves were reduced to one company of sailors and half a company of infantry, and Port Arthur sent no help. A little later on the Japanese dashed forward and broke through the line—through the very place where Kondratenko had stopped the retirement yesterday. The last of the reserve was immediately sent up, and after some desperate fighting drove the enemy back. But now the reserve was used up, and what were we to do? Naumenko telephoned to Seven-mile Station to say that, to enable us to hold our position to-morrow, more troops must be sent to us; but the reply was vague and unsatisfactory. Through the night the enemy continued to seize and entrench advantageous points, while our men, utterly exhausted from the two days' battle and weakened by heavy losses, were in a bad way.
It seemed, under the circumstances, as if it would be impossible to hold on next day, and therefore best that the rear-guard action we should have to fight should be planned out at once and the successive positions selected. Kondratenko, who with Semenoff was moving about all night from one point to another, recognized this; but no definite reply could be got through the telephone, and he did not like to give orders for a retirement on his own account. At last, within a couple of hours of dawn, Kondratenko had to decide, and he decided that a withdrawal was the only thing to be done. Accordingly, orders[Pg 122] were sent to Butusoff to retire, and the route to be followed was told him. These he received only just in time. I had gone to the staff to find out how soon the withdrawal would commence, and found Naumenko still at the telephone, cursing at the impossibility of getting either orders or anything definite. Having other things to see after, he handed me the receiver, saying: 'Tell them we have begun to retire.' I rang and rang, and at last, after about ten minutes, got through:
'General Kondratenko directs me to ask you to tell General Fock that the withdrawal of the right flank has commenced.'
At four o'clock Kondratenko looked at his watch, and calculating that by now ordering the general retirement from Green Hills, Butusoff would have been given time to withdraw from High Hill and occupy a fresh position in rear, he decided to proceed. Just as he was giving the actual order to retire, a note was received from Fock: 'I am withdrawing; you can do as you like.' This masterpiece of military co-operation has been carefully preserved, and is now in Colonel Semenoff's possession.
Under cover of the morning haze, the first and the most difficult part of the retirement was carried out in perfect order and with inconsiderable loss, and our troops took up the new line from the village of Khodziatun to the seashore, along the heights running down into the Lunwantun Valley. The sun then came out and dissipated the mist. Instead of the panic on our part which the enemy expected, they ran up against our infantry holding new positions, and knew that our guns also would open on them from fresh points. During our abandonment of Green Hills they had got into difficulties on our left, for they had tumbled on to our mines. One caused immense loss, blowing a whole crowd of them to pieces, and this, with one or two smaller explosions, put such fear into them[Pg 123] that we were able to get our machine-guns away at leisure.
The moment it was light the enemy shelled the positions which yesterday had been occupied by our batteries, but which were now empty. To discover our new gun positions was not so easy; for experience had now taught us how to take advantage of the ground and how to mask our artillery. At 7 a.m. the fresh companies, so urgently asked for during the night, began to arrive from Arthur to cover the further retirement. Bands were playing, and the enemy could not make out whether we were still retiring or were moving to the attack. With us everything was in perfect order; camp kitchens were smoking, and backwards and forwards along the road carts, rickshaws, and stretchers were moving. This was not what the enemy expected after a two-day battle; they thought Kinchou would be repeated.
The further retirement towards Arthur began punctually at 11 a.m., when, covered by a heavy gun and rifle fire, the companies gradually withdrew in perfect order. The enemy pressed our rear-guard hard, but could effect nothing, and by noon we were in sight of the forts. Some of the troops marched direct towards the fortress; others took up the last advanced position on the right flank on the hills of Ta-ku-shan to Sia-gu-shan. Behind Ta-ku-shan commenced the fortress rayon, and the position on it was the last advanced defensive point, and, in connexion with the positions on Wolf's Hills, was of great importance for the further defence of Arthur. Thus did the right flank, under Kondratenko, fight on the 26th and 27th, and retire on July 28. Let us see how General Fock's command—the left flank—fared during these days.
It was noticed on the evening of the 25th that the enemy, in considerable force, was moving across out of[Pg 124] Dalny towards this flank. Night passed quietly. Early next morning the Japanese began to press our outposts, which were forced in from the villages of Khumuchino and Khukhaia. The hills all round were enveloped in mist, and from the main position nothing was visible. By 5 a.m. it began to clear, and from Hill 113 it could be seen that the enemy was massing at the village of Sakaiza. Tents were struck and the trenches quickly manned, the cold morning air refreshing the men, tired out with continued outpost work. The mist lifted, and above the horizon of the Pacific Ocean appeared the copper-red segment of the rising sun. The enemy's artillery fire began to develop about 5.30 a.m., and the day's fighting commenced upon Hills 94 and 125, the former being seized by the enemy. We allowed them to mass there, and then swept them off again by our fire from Hill 125. At seven o'clock fifteen companies could be seen advancing in columns in the valley near the village of Khukhaia, close to Upilazy. They were moving towards Hill 125, and as soon as they came under fire they could be seen to extend in successive lines, one battalion remaining in reserve. Having extended, they steadily and quickly advanced to the attack in eleven lines. The distance between their firing-line and Hill 125 quickly decreased. Our men calmly watched them advancing.
'Don't fire without the order,' said the officer in command.
'Wait for the word of command,' repeated the section commanders.
'Twelve hundred!'
'Twelve hundred!' again echoed the section leaders.
The men were dying to fire, but waited quietly, though the shrapnel was screaming over them.
'Section, present—fire!'
'Section, present—fire!'
[Pg 125]
Volley followed volley, and the machine-guns vomited bullets. The enemy's firing-line could be seen to falter; then the second line melted into it. On they came. Our volleys rang out more frequently, but did not stop the advance; the third line melted into the remnants of the first two. Over our heads shots were screaming and on all sides wounded men were groaning; but the others paid no attention: they heard nothing but
'Section, present—fire!'
The Japanese were now close. As a line began to waver, it was reinforced and carried forward by the next in rear, and so it went on, fresh lines after lines appearing as if there was no end to them. Their firing-line now began to crawl up the hill from all sides. Volleys gave way to 'independent'—crack, crack, crack all round, and the deafening rat-tat-tat of the machine-gun. Now the range was point-blank, the crew of our machine-gun were all down—but—the enemy were repulsed. While they gathered down below for a fresh effort, their guns poured a hail of high-explosive shell on to our trenches, and did their work so well that our trenches were thick with wounded. Their infantry rallied, and again came on in swarms. At noon, though we had only 40 men left out of 150, our men gallantly held their ground. The foe crawled up on all sides; they showed up on the ridge, and dashed in with the bayonet. One of them, mad with fanaticism, got on to the top, shouting: 'How are you, Russkys?'
'Good-bye, Japanese,' was the answer given, as a bayonet was driven through his body, and he was hurled—a flabby mass—over the edge. But now the hill was surrounded on all sides, and it was impossible to hold out much longer. Burnevitch sent for reinforcements, and the men, expecting that they would come every moment, held out for another hour. Notwithstanding their numbers, the enemy could not gain the hill. At last an order[Pg 126] was received from Colonel Savitsky 'to retire' on to Height 113. The withdrawal was effected, and then the men worked right through the night to make cover, having during the day learnt the value of good bomb-proofs—if they would not give protection from high-explosive shells, they would at least save them from the splinters............