Chapter XXXIX

THE STORY OF A FAMOUS BRIGADE.

The record of the Okasaki Brigade covers almost every important action in which General Kuroki was engaged. It bore the brunt of fifteen great fights and won laurels that can never fade. To measure the capacity of a General by his casualty list, as was our unfortunate habit in South Africa, is folly, yet the test may be applied to a brigade that has been in the field seven months.

On March 26th, when General Okasaki landed at Chinampo, he had in his command six thousand men, of whom only four thousand were combatants. The casualties of the brigade from that date to October were 3,889; 675 men were killed and 3,214 wounded, including 32 officers killed and 93 wounded. Only three men out of the six thousand died from disease in seven months--an almost incredible record and convincing proof of the immunity of Japanese soldiers against the consequences of hardship, privation, exposure and insanitary conditions that devastate European armies.

Of the original number of combatants practically all were slain or wounded: not a single battalion was commanded by the officer who landed with it at Chinampo, and one battalion changed its leader no fewer than three times.

These figures prove not only the desperate character of the fighting but the unshaken _morale_ of the Japanese infantry, for, despite these enormous losses, the Okasaki Brigade was as eager as ever to be foremost in battle.

Success in war depends on the spirit of the soldiers and the character and skill of their leaders. Rarely has the combination of these qualities been as perfect as in this famous brigade which is raised in the Northern provinces of Japan. Their commander is a man who inspires unbounded confidence in his judgment, while his modesty and simplicity of manner have won the affection of his soldiers.

General Okasaki belongs to a race of Samurai or fighting clans and enlisted in the Imperial army. At the age of eighteen years he fought for the restoration of the temporal power of the Mikado and was severely wounded--twice by bullets and once by the sword. While pursuing an enemy on foot a man darted out of a bush and thrust his sword into the young soldier’s side. Stepping back one pace Okasaki struck off the head of his assailant. In the Civil War of 1879 was again wounded. A subaltern in the force sent to attack the enemy’s rear, he landed at Nagasaki and received two bullets that kept him in hospital for three weeks. In the advance on Kumamoto he commanded a battalion and was afterwards promoted to the rank of captain. He was a major in 1885 and five years later was appointed aide-de-camp to the Prince Imperial. At the outbreak of war with China, Okasaki was a lieutenant-colonel and acted as chief of the staff to the 4th Division in Osaka. In 1897 he was chief of the staff of the Japanese garrison at Wei-hai-wei and after the evacuation of that port became a member of the General Staff in Tokyo. From the chief staff office of the 2nd Division he passed in 1901 to the command of the brigade which has proved itself in every way worthy of so gallant and experienced a leader.

The brigade sailed from Ujina on March 20th and disembarked at Chinampo six days later. It was a regiment of this brigade--the 16th regiment--that hoisted the Imperial flag on the Conical Hill at Chiu-lien-cheng, and another regiment--the 30th--that pursued the fugitive enemy to Hamatan and captured the Russian batteries. These are the most brilliant episodes in the battle of the Yalu. After the occupation of Feng-hoang-cheng, General Okasaki was in the first fighting line and held the Pass of Mou-tien-ling, where he repulsed two counter attacks by greatly superior forces. On July 31st he led his brigade from Mou-tien-ling through the mountains east to assist the 12th Division in the fight at Yu-shu-ling. It was the hottest day of the year, and General Okasaki was suffering from dysentery. He was unable to ride, and marched the whole way in the blazing sun. On the battlefield his pain was so intense that he ordered the doctor to inject chloroform into his intestines, and continued to direct the operations.

“I never fought a more interesting fight,” observed the General. “It was like hunting hares.”

I need not tell again how the Okasaki Brigade struck the right flank of the enemy at Pinlei and rolled it back into the mountains; how it seized the precipitous height under which the Russians were retreating; and how it slew seven hundred with the loss of only seventeen men. In the advance on the Tang-ho--a movement that forced the enemy to retire from Anshantien and fall back upon the defences before Liao-yang--the brigade was assigned an important part. On the night of August 26th General Okasaki made an attack which the Japanese claim to be unprecedented in the history of war. The whole brigade stormed the position on Kyu-cho-lei and carried it with the bayonet. Not a shot was fired as the men moved silently forward through the millet fields, keeping in close touch so that when they reached the hill the brigade charged as one man. The moon shone with greater brilliance on that night than I have ever seen it shine in any land, yet not a sign nor a sound came from the valley. The men had wrapped their bayonets in millet straw.

The days that followed were crowded with stirring incident. On the 27th of August General Okasaki assaulted and took Tsuego, on the 28th Sonkasai, on the 29th and 30th Sekisoshi, and on the 31st Kantong, thereby opening the way to Am-ping and the passage of the Tai-tsu river--the flanking movement that sent General Kuropatkin in flight to Mukden.

In four previous chapters I have described the fierce struggle on the North bank of the Tai-tsu, where, with one and a half divisions, General Kuroki kept at bay and finally drove back upon the railway five Russian divisions led by General Kuropatkin himself. Without exaggeration it may be said that General Kuropatkin was defeated by one regiment of the Okasaki Brigade, for he made the hill known as Manjuyama the pivot of his attack, and on September 1st that position was won by General Okasaki and held after three days and nights of the bloodiest work in this or any war. Again and again did the Russians strive to recover the hill. Nor did they abandon the attempt until two thousand had been slain. The scene on the morning of September 4th was one of the most awful I had ever beheld. For two days the Japanese fought on a few handfuls of dry rice. It was during that three days fight that General Okasaki put the discipline of his men to the severest test that could ever be imposed. During a counter-attack in the dark, General Okasaki, leading some reserves into action, found friend and foe so mingled that he could not tell at which point help was most needed. He solved the difficulty by ordering the trumpeter to sound the cease fire. Despite the fact that the Japanese were scattered and were engaged in a hand to hand struggle in which a second’s hesitation meant certain death, they obeyed the signal as one man.

“When I saw that,” said the General with a proud look in his eyes, “I was sure that we could keep the position.”

Manjuyama has been named Okasaki-yama, or Okasaki Hill, in honour of that great victory.

These achievements might well suffice for the record of any brigade, yet they are only the preface to the chronicle of the deeds of Okasaki. In the seven days fighting that repulsed the Russian assault and swept General Kuropatkin across the Sha-ho with the loss of sixty or seventy thousand men and fifty guns, the Okasaki Brigade was the steel wedge that General Kuroki drove into the heart of the Russian centre, and that forced the enemy to act on the defensive once more. On the afternoon of October 11th General Okasaki took Temple Hill--the isolated rock crowned by a temple three or four miles North-west of the coal mine. It was at first intended that the Matsunaga Brigade should occupy Bastion Hill--the lofty height with a bastion-like summit--which was the centre of the Russian resistance on the morning of the 11th. Three battalions of the Matsunaga Brigade marched from camp at three o’clock in the morning and advanced against this formidable position. Forcing back the enemy from their front they came to the Western slope of the hill, where the guns began to play upon them. With one battalion on the right and two on the left, the brigade pressed on under showers of shrapnel. The Japanese batteries were to have supported the assault by engaging the Russian artillery, but our guns were outranged and could not reach the enemy’s batteries. Seeing the disadvantage under which their assailants laboured from want of this support, a considerable body of Russians attacked the flank of the battalion on the left. This was the opportunity for which our artillery in the shadow of a rocky hill had been anxiously watching. In a moment the shells began to fall thick and fast among the enemy who retired in great disorder pulling their wounded comrades into the pine grove in the ravine. Undaunted by this failure, the Russians held fast by the right and delivered another counter-attack which was repelled by a small company of Japanese.

Meanwhile, General Okasaki, whose brigade was posted on our left in front of the coal mine, waited the moment to advance on Temple Hill. Hours passed and Bastion Hill remained in the hands of the enemy. At last General Okasaki decided that it would be imprudent to wait longer. An attack on Temple Hill might relieve the pressure on the Matsunaga Brigade. Accordingly the order was given to advance. At eleven o’clock the 30th regiment on the right moved forward to the village of Kuchapuzu, about two miles to the South-west of Temple Hill, while the 16th regiment reached Palasantzu, a village about the same distance to the South-east. Happily, the Russians appeared not to notice this movement, although it was made across the open fields. Only after the regiments were under cover in the villages did the enemy’s guns pay them any attention. Little or no damage was done. At half past four in the afternoon the brigade left the villages and advanced in line of battle, forming a great crescent with Temple Hill between the two points. The left moved swiftly over the furrowed fields among sheaves of giant millet, while the right descended into the deep bed of a shallow stream and presently appeared on the plain. I need not tell again the story of that splendid advance. Forty guns opened on the lines, yet on they went, quietly and steadily, now kneeling to return the rifle fire from the road under Temple Hill: now at a double. At last they came to the foot of the hill, having driven North the remnant of the first line of Russian rifles. The 16th regiment on the left was a little in advance and fought its way up the hill, suffering heavily from shrapnel. A private was the first to reach the temple and had climbed several feet up the stone wall when a shell scattered his brains. His bayonet--bent, broken and bloody--stuck fast in the wall. In this assault the brigade had 937 casualties, most of them during the advance across the fields. Though every shell killed or wounded several, the men never paused to look back.

While this assault was in progress Colonel Shimada was ordered to seize a rocky, hog-backed height to the North. The force under his command was only two companies, one battalion and two companies having gone to the aid of the Matsunaga Brigade. A new battalion was therefore given to him, and the Colonel advanced toward the village of Sanchautsu, North-east of Bastion Hill. Behind him in a long, thin column marched his men. Arriving within rifle range of the village they deployed and went quickly forward.

Sanchautsu is a long, straggling collection of stone houses sheltered by pine trees, on the fringe of which appeared a strong force of the enemy. Breaking through the left flank of this line Colonel Shimada entered the village at the head of his men. Here the fight waxed more and more furious, for the Russians had taken cover in the native houses and had to be driven out with the bayonet. Near the middle of the village stands a wine shop--a large, stone building with an extensive compound surrounded by a high, stone wall, loop-holed for defence against bandits. In this compound were many Russians. Mounting to the roof of the next house the Japanese opened fire and drove them into the wine shop. Ladders were then brought, and while the Japanese scaled the wall the enemy fled. The sun was setting when this terrible fight ended, and left us in possession of Sanchautsu and the rising ground to the north.

Before dawn on the 12th, Bastion Hill was taken by the Matsunaga Brigade, and General Okasaki advanced from Temple Hill toward the hog-back of rock that runs North into a horse-shoe cluster of high hills. Only a few Russians remained in the trenches and Rocky Hill was easily captured, but when the sun rose and the morning mist cleared, the enemy’s guns concentrated their fire on the position and many were killed and wounded. The Japanese sought shelter in a pine grove on the left slope and remained there all day. On the right flank the situation was the same and the troops continued in their positions, awaiting the advance of other forces with which they had to co-operate. Thus ended the 12th day of October. That night the Matsunaga Brigade was ordered East to fill the gap between two columns on the right flank, where the position near Ponchiho was extremely critical.

A forced march was necessary lest the enemy should discover this weak point in our defence and break through. Making tripods with millet stalks the men lighted fires and cooked their rice. Fifteen minutes after receiving the order they were on the road. The night was intensely dark and cold; a storm of sleet and hail overtook them and they lost their way. Yet before dawn the brigade reached the foot of Chosen-lei, fifteen miles South-east of Bastion Hill, and the gap was covered. Overcome with fatigue of hard fighting and hard marching the weary soldiers lay down on the cold ground and slept. Their leader did not close his eyes that night.

Walking in the darkness among the prostrate ranks, General Matsunaga felt with pride that he need have no fear of the morrow. Men who slept so soundly holding their rifles in their hands at the foot of a hill occupied by an unknown force of the enemy might be depended upon in any emergency. At daybreak a few rifle shots sounded the alarm. Up sprang the brigade ready for action. A regiment of Russians appeared on the hill. They were evidently amazed to find Japanese soldiers where not a sign of them was visible at sunset. The enemy had no guns, whereas the brigade had two field-pieces, which opened fire and drove the Russians from Chosen-lei. A cause of great anxiety was thereby removed, and our line of defence was materially strengthened.

On October the 13th the Okasaki Brigade was ordered to take the enemy’s position on the horse-shoe cluster of hills to the north of Temple Hill. The foot hills were already in our possession, but the difficult task remained. In a former chapter I have described the attack as I saw it from a neighbouring height. At dawn the brigadier detected a few men on the nearest peak, and sent a young officer--Lieutenant Shima--with two sections to learn who they were. Ascending the slope, Lieutenant Shima found the enemy’s trenches empty, and was about to return when there suddenly came round the corner of the hill a large group of soldiers. In the dim light of early morning he was unable to discover whether they were Russians or Japanese.

“Who are you?” shouted the officer. Rifles replied and instantly the Japanese, dropping into the trench, prepared for the attack which they knew would not be delayed. The Russians approached in overwhelming numbers and a fierce fight ensued. Of these two gallant sections and their officer not a single man remained alive or unwounded. But help was at hand. First a company and then a battalion rushed to the rescue and the first position was won. Here the Japanese awaited the development of an attack on the Russian flank, but the plan miscarried and for hours they were exposed to heavy artillery fire from which they suffered severely. The situation grew desperate, yet the brigade clung to the slope.

Lieutenant-Colonel Nihira had foreseen the extreme difficulty of the task and realised that the chances of living through it were small. Before placing himself at the head of his battalion he took out of his pockets all confidential papers and the portraits of his children, which it was his custom to hang upon the wall of any house in which he might be quartered. Having burned these papers and photographs he led his men forward to the hill where he halted for a moment to impress upon them the importance of their mission and urged them never to turn their back upon the enemy. Colonel Nihira was greatly beloved by his men and they vowed to follow him to the death. At three o’clock the second height was stormed and then came the final struggle. For three long hours the men lay on the slope while shrapnel thinned their ranks and shells sweeping over them fell among the enemy’s rifles on the crest.

Seeing the terrible position of this battalion General Okasaki sent to its aid another battalion commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Taniyama who arrived only in time to learn that his gallant friend and comrade Colonel Nihira and most of his officers had fallen in the fight. Dashing out of the trench, Colonel Taniyama cried: “How can I alone remain alive!” and would have hurled himself into the fire swept zone had not his men dragged him back into the trench.

The death of Colonel Nihira and of so many comrades roused the men to frenzy. Two companies sprang from the trench and rushed forward up the hill. I have told how they were rolled back and how they returned like an ever diminishing wave until at sunset I saw against the grey sky line a struggling mass of men shooting, bayonetting, wrestling and stoning one another. At six o’clock the hill was taken and the slope was slippery with blood. It bears the name Nihirayama, or Nihira’s Hill, in memory of a brave soldier. One battalion lost all its officers save two, and of the other battalion only five officers survived.

Even now the day was not ended though the sun was sinking below a crimson horizon. The enemy was still entrenched in a strong position stretching due East from the plain under Nihirayama. Against this hill a regiment of the Okasaki Brigade was moving from a grove on the slope of Nihirayama, seventeen hundred metres from Lengesan--the name of the Russian position. To reach its destination the regiment had to descend the slope and cross the open fields under a heavy cannonade. Between the two positions is a grove of pines in which the Japanese found shelter after their first dash. In a few minutes they came out and ran to the foot of the hill. Many fell in the advance, but the survivors struck the enemy hard on the left flank, and there was another of those awful hand-to-hand fights which one recalls with a shudder.

In the end the Russians fled with their guns. Twice men and horses with the batteries were shot down, and twice they were replaced under fire. Had the right flank of the Japanese been as fortunate as the left, these guns would have been added to the trophies of the seven days’ fight.

This is the short record of the Okasaki Brigade. It is typical of the Japanese infantry, and will serve to show what the unhappy Russians had to contend against.