assumption that the Russian gunners were so unnerved by our sudden and unexpected attack that, for the moment, they had completely lost the ability to shoot straight.
Through that frightful tempest of shot and shell we tore at top speed, the fragile hulls of the boats bucking and quivering to the impulse of their tremendously powerful engines, the water cleft by their sharp bows curling almost to the height of the navigating bridges and drenching the occupants with spray, while flames roared out of all four of their funnels as the stokers below toiled like fiends to feed the furnaces and maintain a full head of steam. To add to our difficulties, the glare of so many searchlights directed full upon us dazzled our sight to blinding point, so that it was only with the greatest difficulty we were able to find our way. The formation in which the Russian fleet was moored helped us, however, for we presently found ourselves rushing across the bows of their weathermost line, and we steered accordingly.
Then, quite unexpectedly, we came upon the three Russian destroyers again; and those of us who happened to be prepared—of which the Kasanumi was one—gave them a further peppering, to which, as before, they made no reply. And now, at last, we were reaching the end of the line, and the gauntlet was almost run, for as we drew out to seaward the inshore ships were compelled to cease fire for fear of hurting their friends instead of us. There was but one more ship to pass; and as we drew near to her I saw that she had a decided list to port, and was floating so deep aft that her “admirals’ walk,” or stern gallery, was very nearly submerged. Steam was roaring from her safety valves, and as we came up to her a small curl of water under her bows and a swirl at her stern showed that she was under way. It was the Tsarevich, heading for the harbour, evidently in a sinking condition, and we had the satisfaction of knowing that by that night’s work we had put at least one of the Russian battleships hors de combat. Her crew were much too busy to pay any attention to us; and a quarter of an hour later we were beyond the zone of that awful, merciless fire, and were heading south-east for Mokpo, where we had been ordered to rendezvous.
We did not, of course, at that time know the extent of the damage that we had succeeded in inflicting upon the Russian fleet; but trustworthy information reached us later, that the Tsarevich had been struck aft, the torpedo blowing a big hole in her hull and flooding her steering compartment to such an extent that her captain had been obliged to beach her to prevent her from sinking. The Retvisan had been struck amidships, and a large hole blown in her pump compartment, rendering it necessary that she also should be beached in order to save her. Those two battleships constituted the Kasanumi’s share of the bag; and very pleased we were with ourselves when the news became known, since those two ships were far and away the best in the Russian fleet, and the loss of them, even if it should prove to be only temporary, was a very serious matter for the Russians. But, in addition to these, the Pallada, cruiser, and the volunteer cruiser Angara were also hit, and were obliged to be beached to save them from foundering.
Thus we had done not at all badly; although some surprise was felt that, considering the favourable circumstances under which the attack was made—by which I mean our unsuspected approach, and the time which elapsed before the searchlights actually found us—we had not done a great deal more. For Divisions 1, 2, and 3, which had attacked the Russian fleet, consisted in all of ten destroyers, each of which had discharged two torpedoes—twenty in all. And of those twenty, only four, apparently, had got home. It was not a result to be proud of. But I had a suspicion that I could have put my finger upon the explanation, had I been asked to do so; and it would have been this: The night was bitterly cold; so cold, indeed, that the spray froze as it fell upon us, and the weather was simply atrocious; the result being that by the time the flotilla arrived in Port Arthur roadstead, the limit of even Japanese physical endurance had been almost, if not quite, reached. Most of our deck hands had been more or less severely frost-bitten, not only their bodies, but also their minds were benumbed by the arctic severity of the weather, and thus it came to pass (at least so I reasoned it out) that when the moment for action arrived their faculties, between physical suffering and mental excitement, became so confused that many of them made the mistake against which I had warned Ito, and failed to withdraw the safety pin before discharging their torpedoes, thus rendering the missiles ineffective. This was also Ito’s opinion, you will remember.
By the time that we reached Mokpo we were all in a most deplorable condition, nearly half of the deck hands of the expedition being compelled to go into hospital suffering from frost-bite, a few of the cases being of so severe a character that the patients lost either their hands or their feet, while one man lost all four members, and narrowly escaped dying outright. Ito and I were somehow lucky enough to escape without serious injury, but we both developed virulent attacks of inflammation of the lungs, which put us hors de combat for nearly three weeks. But there is no doubt that our recovery was greatly facilitated by the intimation, which reached us while we were still in hospital, that we had both been promoted to the rank of Commander.
Meanwhile, things had been happening at Port Arthur and elsewhere. On the morning following our attack, Togo sent three fast cruisers in toward the fortress to reconnoitre; and these ships having discovered pretty much how matters stood there, and reported to the Admiral, the whole fleet stood in and engaged the ships and batteries at long-range, firing only their 12-inch and 8-inch guns, the range being too long for the others. The weather had changed, and was now bright and comparatively warm, the atmosphere so clear that even comparatively small objects were clearly visible.
The Mikasa opened the ball by firing a sighting shot from one of the 12-inch guns in her fore barbette, and at the same moment the Russian ships were seen to be getting under way. At low speed the Japanese fleet steamed past the port in “line ahead,” firing as they went, and after an engagement lasting some forty minutes, drew off, hoping that the Russian fleet would follow them, but in this they were disappointed. Our ships were hit several times and sustained a certain amount of damage, but, luckily, not of a serious character. It was reported that we lost four killed and fifty-four wounded, none of the wounds being serious enough, however, to necessitate the men being sent ashore to the hospital. It was some time before reliable information reached us as to the extent of the damage sustained by the Russians, but when it came it was to the effect that several of our shells fell in the town, scattering the piles of coal on the wharves and creating general panic; the Poltava was so badly hit that she could not move, a shell blowing her bows open; the Petropavlosk and Pobieda were also hit, though not seriously; our old friend, the Askold, was hit on the waterline and set on fire, as was also the Diana; while the Novik, which had steamed out toward our fleet, was sent flying back with her rudder damaged, so that they had to steer her with her propellers. This affair caused Admiral Stark to be superseded; his successor being Admiral Makarov, said to be the finest seaman Russia then possessed. At the same time General Kuropatkin was appointed commander of the Russian land forces.
Two days later, the Russians lost the mine-layer Yenesei in Dalny Bay. This was a particularly hard bit of luck for them, inasmuch as that she had practically completed her work when the disaster happened. Her mission was to sow Dalny Bay with four hundred contact mines, in order to prevent the Japanese from using the bay as a landing-place for troops. She had successfully laid all but two of the four hundred mines; but when the three hundred and ninety-ninth mine was launched overboard, it floated, instead of sinking to its prescribed depth. The captain of the ship is said to have opened fire upon it with his light guns, to explode it; and in this he appears to have been only too successful, since it not only exploded but also blew up the ship, which sank almost immediately, most of her crew going down with her. And on the following day the small cruiser Boyarin went ashore in Dalny Bay, and became a total wreck. Thus in less than a week the Port Arthur fleet had become reduced in strength by no less than three battleships, five cruisers, and one mining ship, exclusive of the cruiser Variag and the gunboat Korietz, destroyed at Chemulpo.
Encouraged by the success of the first destroyer attack upon Port Arthur, Admiral Togo arranged for a repetition of the experiment on the night of 13th February, and the attempt duly came off, the 4th and 5th Divisions of the destroyer flotilla being this time told off to conduct the attack. These divisions, consisting of eight boats, had not participated in the previous attack, and Togo no doubt wished to give them an opportunity to acquire kudos, and, at the same time, by arousing their emulation, spur them on to outvie our performance.
Unfortunately, however, for the expedition, the weather was even worse than that with which we had had to contend: the cold was intense, a gale was blowing, a tremendously heavy sea was running, and, to cap it all, a terrific snow blizzard was raging. The result of this combination of adverse conditions was that the destroyers very soon lost touch with each other, and only two of them succeeded in entering the harbour, the Asigiri preceding the Hayatori by nearly two hours. The
