Chapter 67 of 87 · 3120 words · ~16 min read

Chapter XXVI

THE BATTLE OF LIAO-YANG.

PREPARING THE WAY.

During the last days of August every soldier felt that he was nearing the end of the first phase of the war, and that a decisive battle was impending. Three armies were concentrating upon Liao-yang, which General Kuropatkin had fortified and provisioned to withstand prolonged assault.

After the fight at Mou-tien-ling General Kuroki halted to complete his preparations for the advance on Liao-yang. The rainy season, though unusually short, gave some trouble, and for a time the position of the First Army was by no means secure. Each division was widely separated and extended over a broad front. Half the Guards Division was still at Siou-yen, miles to the left rear, while the Twelfth Division on the right flank was several miles from the centre and not in touch. This distribution of the force could not be avoided, for the main road to Liao-yang is too narrow to permit the simultaneous movement of two divisions.

General Keller seized this critical moment to deliver his attack on Mou-tien-ling, but failed owing to the want of energy and determination. As the month of August drew near Russian activity increased, and on the 25th of July the Twelfth Division was menaced by the advance of two infantry divisions and six thousand cavalry, who were riding from the neighbourhood of Ponchiho.

Deeming it imprudent to await attack in so divided a position, General Kuroki resolved to become the assailant and to strike the enemy while their preparations were incomplete. The Guards at Siou-yen were hurried to Head-quarters, and the lines of communication were swept for men to strengthen the Twelfth Division on the right. In five days General Kuroki was ready to make his counter stroke, and To-wan, or the valley of the White Tower, was captured.

The occupation of this important military position removed the peril that had long threatened the First Army. The Second Division in the centre was now free to move to the support of either flank, and to hold its front with a comparatively small force. At the same time the right flank near Ponchiho was strengthened by men drawn from the second reserves, and the road was opened to Liao-yang.

Unfortunately, General Kuroki was not able to take full and immediate advantage of this improvement in his position. He was only a pawn in the game. The Central or Fourth Army was not ready to move. It awaited reinforcements of infantry and artillery to extend the line toward Hai-cheng, and two weeks were necessary to complete its preparations.

Field Marshal Oyama’s intention was to begin the assault on Liao-yang on August 18th, but again the rains descended and the movement was delayed until the 25th. The instructions issued from Grand Head Quarters were that General Kuroki should attack the enemy on the left bank of the Tan-ho which flows in front of Am-ping, while the combined armies of the West assailed the position at Anshantien. The date fixed for the movement against Anshantien was August 28th, and in order that the flanking attack might be developed in time, General Kuroki proceeded on the 26th to sweep the enemy from his front. This was a most difficult operation. The main force of the Russians was on the line Am-ping, Shanleishi, Tohi and Shankaen, with its left flank near Housalien--not an easy position to assail. Its centre near Daitenshi was naturally strong and had been fortified with earthworks upon which the enemy had been engaged since the month of May.

The weakness of the Russian position was its extended front and the comparative smallness of the force with which it was held. Of this defect General Kuroki was quick to take advantage. Accordingly he gave orders that both flanks were to be threatened, while a desperate night assault was delivered against the centre.

The orders issued from the Head Quarters of the First Army are interesting and instructive:

“Kinchapoatsa, 5 p.m. August 22nd.

(1) “The enemy in front of the First Army is composed of the IX and XXXI Divisions and the greater part of the III and VI Divisions. Its line extends from Kosalin through Kampalei and Kynchorei to Daitenshi and Daisoton. At Ponchiho are a regiment of infantry, six squadrons of cavalry, and a few guns. At Liao-yang and on the right bank of the Tai-tsu is a superior force of the enemy.

(2) “The Second and Fourth Armies expect to deliver their attack on the position from Anshantien to West Togyoho--eight kilometres West--and Kami-sekyo on the 28th inst.

(3) “The First Army will attack with its main force in the direction of Am-ping, and with parts of its force on the Liao-yang road.

(4) “The Twelfth Division, plus the mixed brigade of the Second Reserve and minus the mountain battery, will attack in the direction of Hichihanlei at dawn on the 26th.

(5) “The Second Division, minus one field battery and one regiment of cavalry and plus the mountain battery of the Twelfth Division, will attack South-west of Tsuego and Chorei before dawn on the 26th.

(6) “The Imperial Guards Division, plus one regiment of cavalry and one battery of field guns, will attack Daitenshi on the Liao-yang main road at dawn on the 26th.

(7) “The G.O.C. will be found at Santolei after 6 p.m. on the 25th.”

The strength of the Twelfth Division was equal to one and a half divisions; that of the Second Division was about normal, though half its artillery and the greater part of its cavalry had been transferred to the Guards Division. A battery of mountain guns had however been added to the Second Division, and proved so effective that the Japanese resolved in future to carry a mountain battery behind the fighting line. The Guards Division, in addition to the cavalry and guns of the Second Division, was strengthened by a battery of Russian guns captured at the Yalu, and had in all ten batteries of field guns. Besides these forces was the Reserve--whose position was kept secret--under the direct command of Head Quarters. This reserve--the 29th regiment of the Second Reserves--was doing garrison duty at Feng-hoang-cheng on the 22nd when orders came that it must hurry to the front. After a forced march of forty-eight hours the regiment arrived at Tien-sui-tien at midnight on the 25th and was thrown into the fighting line. No one who saw them marching to the sound of the guns next morning would have dreamed that they had just performed so remarkable a feat of endurance.

Such was the force with which General Kuroki succeeded in driving in the Russian left flank and compelling General Kuropatkin to evacuate Aushantien and fall back on his last defences about Liao-yang. Let me attempt to describe as clearly and as concisely as the multiplicity of details allow, the manner in which this great victory was won.

In the last days of August, the army under General Kuropatkin, estimated at two hundred thousand fighting men, held three defensive lines stretching like bows over the hilly country to the South and East of Liao-yang. The longest bow was drawn to the South of Am-ping across the Pekin road; the shorter was North of the River Tang, while the smallest and strongest bow masked Liao-yang from the low hills of Shou-shan. The defensive works in front of the Pekin road had been constructed months before, those in the neighbourhood of Am-ping were begun after our advance from Mou-tien-ling on the 31st of July. The nature and extent of the defences beyond the Tang-ho were not known until a few days before the attack on Liao-yang; nor were we sure that the enemy had entrenched the heights of Sou-shan. Divided into two main bodies, with strong reserves on the inner lines of defence, the Russians awaited our advance with the confidence inspired by numbers and by the presence of General Kuropatkin. Our plan was simple. While the Armies of the West and South attacked from Anshantien on the road from Hai-cheng, the Army of the East, under General Kuroki, was to force the defensive line on the Pekin road and at Am-ping.

Late in the afternoon of August 25th we left Tien-sui-tien--the village near the foot of Mou-tien-ling Parr, where we had camped for nearly one month. Our orders were to march with three days’ rations in our saddle bags and to halt for the night in a glen four miles to the North-west. We bivouacked among the mealies near a mountain torrent, and rose at dawn with the consciousness that important events had happened in the night. Before starting from Tien-sui-tien we were told that no match was to be struck, no pipe or fire was to be lighted, and that restive and noisy horses were to be kept in the rear. These precautions could only portend some desperate enterprise under cover of darkness.

Forcing a path through the tangle of bush that dripped with heavy dew, we reached the summit of a ridge and looked across the boundless ocean of bare hills. Away to the right loomed a bold spur in the shadow of which flowed the Tang-ho. Here the column, which formed our right flank, was operating, though of its progress we saw no sign and heard no sound. The heights on our left echoed the thunders of artillery, telling us that our left flank had forced the Pass of Yang-shu-ling and was hotly engaged. General Kuroki and his Staff watched from the ridge to which we had ascended. Across a deep valley on the North ran another steep ridge upon which stood General Nichi and his Staff. Here was the centre of our advance.

The Russian line of defence, in front of which we found ourselves, was strong by nature, and had been improved by art. It stretched across hills, offering an extensive field of fire, and must be approached by deep and exposed valleys. One weakness, however, it had, and the Japanese were not slow to discover it. The line was too long to be strongly defended, even by the force at General Kuropatkin’s command. On an extended front the point for attack is the centre, and here General Kuroki determined to drive in a wedge that would leave the enemy no choice but to fall back on his second line beyond the river.

Artillery positions not being available owing to the precipitous character of the country, he resolved upon the hazardous expedient of a night attack with the bayonet. To ensure the success of such an enterprise two conditions are essential. The ground over which the troops are to advance in the darkness must be carefully studied. With that object many reconnaisances were made, company after company being sent out to learn the topographical features of the two mountains over which the assault must pass. In the second place, it is necessary to provide the enemy’s flanks with work that will prevent them from giving effectual aid to the centre. This duty was assigned to the forces on our flanks. Taking with them half the field guns of the Central Column, our left wing marched from To-wan on August 22nd through the Pass of Yang-shu-ling, drove in the enemy’s outposts on the Pekin road, and on the morning of the 25th began their attack on the strong position of Al-tan-ho, or Two River roads. Our right wing was ordered to assault the Pass at Han-pa-ling on the Am-ping road and to seize the position held by the Russian left, while a brigade was detached to contain the force of seven or eight thousand left by the enemy at Pon-chi-ho to guard the road to Mukden and, if practicable, to create a diversion on our right rear.

These were the dispositions of General Kuroki’s army on the night of August 25th, when the assault was made against the Russian centre at Kuchorai, or Bowstring Pass. In front of this position were two ridges held by the Russian outposts. The movement for the night attack began at nine o’clock and at midnight the first position was taken. But the really difficult task remained. At half-past two the stillness of the night was unbroken save by the wolf-like bark of pariahs. Hill and valley were wrapped in deep slumber that precedes the dawn and the moon had veiled herself in darkness.

Suddenly the fields of giant maize and millet were stirred as by a breeze. Yet no wind blew from any point on the black horizon. Ghostly forms flitted across the valley. At first a score, the number swelled into legions, until it seemed as if all the graves of all the townships had given up their dead and an army of shades was marching through space. Not a sound was heard--no footfall, not a breath. Yet fifteen thousand men were advancing with rifle in hand and desperate purpose in their hearts. Swiftly and in silence they moved until they gained the foot of the heights. Then they glided upward, still swiftly and in silence. A shot rang out, piercing the night with a shrill note of alarm, and a tidal wave of humanity, rising from earth, swept onward and upward with irresistible fury. Nothing could withstand that steel-crested wave. Not a shot was fired. The position was won. It was a magnificent feat of arms, which the Japanese declare is without parallel--a whole division of infantry charging in the night with the bayonet. Swept off their feet by this stupendous assault, the Russians rallied at a point not far distant and appeared to be preparing a counter attack. The mountain battery borrowed from our right wing had followed hard on the heels of the division, and, coming into action at close range, quickly dislodged the enemy and put an end to all fear of counter-assault.

The success of this onslaught in the darkness may be ascribed to the vigour and secrecy with which it was delivered. Not a single foreign _attaché_ or correspondent who slept upon the wet ground that night with only a blanket round him dreamed that a stupendous struggle was raging on the other side of the mountain. Some credit also is due to the divisions co-operating on the flanks.

In order to reach their position on the 26th the Guards Division began their advance three days before. The roads were quagmires, and had to be made good for the passage of field guns. Reaching Karoko on the morning of the 23rd the fighting force repaired the road, and on the following day came to the high ground North-west of Henkowan, and South of Sanuipu where it encountered three battalions of Russian infantry from Daisotung and a smart skirmish took place. On the 25th, after another contact with the enemy, the division advanced to the appointed line of Heilintzu. The Guards having begun their march a little earlier than the rest of the army, General Kuropatkin withdrew part of his force from Am-ping and Liao-yang, and strengthened his army to meet the attack on the main road. This movement, while endangering the position of the Guards, proved to be of benefit to the general plan of the Japanese, for it relieved the pressure on the Twelfth Division. Four battalions of this division--the Unizawa Brigade--had been ordered to Kiao-tao to protect the right flank against a force of the enemy coming from Ponchiho, while the main body of the division advanced from Yu-shu-ling, and assumed the offensive at dawn on the 26th, after the attack made by the Second Division. The reason for this was obvious. The country in front of the Twelfth Division was especially difficult, and they were in close contact with the main force of the Russians, who occupied a very strong position. Any advance of the Second Division would, therefore, be useful to the Twelfth Division, whose mountain guns meanwhile were able to harass the enemy.

The situation on the left flank did not improve, and threatened to become critical, for the enemy continued to strengthen his front. General Kuroki accordingly despatched his reserves to reinforce the Guards. This decision was arrived at after the most careful deliberation, and was fraught with immediate consequences that menaced the advance of the Second Division. Scarcely had the reserves moved away to the assistance of the Guards than the enemy delivered a vigorous counter attack against the left flank of the Second Division. This movement was unexpected. It was too late, however, to recall the reserves, and General Kuroki had no choice but to order the Guards Division instantly to press their attack on the left, in the hope that this would lighten the unforeseen strain on his centre.

Though successful in the night attack, the Second Division had not been able to make the immediate advance anticipated. On the other side of a narrow valley, fronting the ridge which had been carried at the point of the bayonet, ran another ridge with a razor like summit flanked by conical peaks and traversed by a buttress of rock descending almost at right angles from the enemy’s trenches. There the Russians, reinforced from Am-ping and covered by guns that kept up a heavy bombardment, made an obstinate defence.

From the hill in front I watched the Japanese infantry as they moved slowly and cautiously up the slope toward the buttress of rock, while another body of riflemen advanced from the left and four mountain guns were visible on the sky line to the right. The day was hot and many of the soldiers had laid aside their tunics so that the slope was dotted with white sleeves that made every step and every figure clear against the greens and browns. Steadily the infantry advanced, taking cover and extending until they gained the shelter of the buttress of rock from behind which they opened a fusilade against the trenches between the conical peaks. Their fire was hotly returned, and the shells of field guns in the valley beyond began to search the slope near the mountain guns. For two hours the situation was unchanged, each side holding its own and maintaining its fire. After a time the Russian guns compelled the mountain battery to retire a little down the slope where two guns were directed to keep down the fire from the trenches and two guns among the mealies in the valley covered the advance of the rifles. The effect was magical. In a few minutes the fusilade slackened; the Japanese seized the opportunity to press forward, and before noon the flag of the Rising Sun shone blood red on the summit. The wedge of steel had been driven hard and fast into the heart of the enemy.