along the roads and paths and across the fields the remnant of the 5th regiment dribbled towards the tafashin heights. behind these hills confusion was worse confounded. the whole 4th division streamed away past this wonderful natural position, the strength of which can be seen at once, even from a map; but no one seemed to have noticed its tactical importance before, and nothing was now done to take advantage of it to resist the invaders further. back, back streamed all. when it was quite dark, when the men of the different units were thoroughly mixed up in the disorderly retreat, so that control was impossible, some one shouted that the japanese cavalry were coming. what then happened it is difficult to say, but the infantry opened fire on their own men, there was a lot of miscellaneous shooting, and a convoy of wounded from under tafashin was taken for the enemy and fired on. batteries hearing the firing and having no infantry escort hurried off to nangalin. colonel laperoff's battery, marching ahead in good order, was almost swept away by the other batteries galloping on top of it in the dark; all was blind panic till daylight. it was indeed lucky for us that the japanese did not pursue: the results of such a pursuit are painful to think of, and the enemy might have got into port arthur on the heels of the 4th division.
[pg 76]
nangalin railway-station presented a scene of dreadful chaos. trains loaded with wounded were leaving for arthur. owing to the suddenness of the retirement and the disorganization, no arrangements for food had been made, and men of all branches of the service, badly wounded and exhausted by the long battle, lay tortured with hunger, thirst, and cold. the dim forms of the gunners of kinchou could be seen prowling about the platform as they searched for food; others were lying huddled together, sleeping. the first and second class refreshment-rooms were filled with officers, whose numbers were being momentarily increased by fresh arrivals by train, on horseback, on bicycles, and on foot. nobody knew anything or what to do; every one waited for orders which did not come, for none of the commanders were there. the majority of the senior officers, having eaten, were lying on the floor.
a long train filled with wounded was standing at the platform ready to start; it had been there for some time. the medical officers were performing acrobatic feats in their efforts to pass along from one goods waggon to another, and were doing their best by the dim light of the lamps to alleviate the terrible suffering.
'tell them to get us some water; the men want something to drink, and we have only got distilled water required for doing the dressings,' said one of the doctors to a railway official.
'there isn't any. we never expected this rush, and what we had has been used. there is only dirty water.'
'but the men are dying of thirst, to say nothing of hunger. how much longer is the train going to stop here? it is torture to the wounded.'
'captain —— won't allow us to start.'
opposite the station buildings i saw a group of men[pg 77] gesticulating and heard angry voices. i went towards them, hoping to find out what the delay was.
'... i ask, i demand that the train be started at once. in the name of humanity all haste must be made to get the wounded into a hospital as soon as possible. every moment with some of them means life or death. it is utterly absurd to talk of issuing rifles to them, and it would take hours.' it was the senior doctor of the hospital train speaking.
taking advantage of his authority as a staff-officer of the district, captain —— insisted that the rifles piled up on the platform should be issued to the wounded men. both men got angry, and the staff-officer, annoyed that a doctor should attempt to question his arrangements, assumed a haughty and peremptory tone.
'don't torture the wounded. the train is a long one, full of awful cases, and they are lying all on top of one another. there's no room for rifles,' implored the doctor.
the captain was furious, and striding to the telephone, returned after a few minutes to insist on his orders being obeyed; but the medical officer, losing patience at what seemed to him pigheaded cruelty, flatly declined to allow the wounded to be disturbed, and insisted on the immediate despatch of the train.
'even the regulations of the peace conference lay down that wounded sent by hospital trains must be disarmed,' he shouted.
'i care nothing for the peace conference, or any other damned conference. i must send these rifles into port arthur, to prevent them falling into the enemy's hands,' was the reply.
boiling with indignation, i could remain no longer a spectator of this disgraceful scene, and walked off along the train. it was an unusually long one. wrapped in my thoughts, i strolled some way from the station.[pg 78] suddenly i heard a noise—neither groans nor screams, but more like lowing. where i was and what had happened suddenly came back to me. it was a very dark night, and close to me were standing some waggons, from which were proceeding these noises. have you ever, when travelling by rail, stopped in a station or at some siding at night alongside a cattle train, and heard the noise of the cattle? if you have, i need not attempt a further description of the sound of the hospital train at nangalin station that night. i walked slowly along it. in the unlighted goods-waggons crowds of men were lying about, some on straw and some on the bare floor. one heard choking sighs, groans, sobs, prayers, curses, and calls for help, combined with the howling of men in unbearable physical agony.
'drink, drink! something to drink—i'm burning!' was jerked out at me in a hoarse voice from an open door. with difficulty i clambered up, and then almost fainted at what i came upon. in the dimly-lighted waggon lay a shapeless heap of men, coats, boots, canteens, great-coats, heads, arms, and the place reeked of blood.
'sir, a drink—a drink, for god's sake!' the cry stabbed me. from the indistinguishable pile of flesh and—other things—i saw at my feet a blood-stained head, a sheet-white face lit up by two burning eyes, and an arm stretched towards me. i gave it—this thing—my water-bottle. the wounded man seized it with both hands, but after a second let them fall helplessly, his head lolling back on someone's enormous and blood-smeared boots.
'ach! cold. cover me.' he was in an ague.
it was sickening, revolting, horrible. i tried to slip out, but involuntarily my eyes were caught by the sight of a grinning face on which danced the expiring light of the flickering wall-lamp. a smile? and amid such surroundings? stepping carefully across the wounded men, i[pg 79] went up to it. no! it was not grinning: 'twas the play of light and shadow on the face of another cold corpse. the rows of teeth, the half-opened lips, and the fixed, glazed, staring eyes—a ghastly grin indeed.
along-side, with his face turned towards and almost touching this—this grin—lay another mangled man, groaning piteously and breathing fast. every now and then he opened his eyes, but apparently did not know where he was. what would have been his feelings, i wonder, if on the way to arthur he had come to himself? throwing my handkerchief across the dead face, i jumped out of the waggon and hurried to the station, to find the wrangle still continuing. i was boiling with fierce indignation. i kept hearing the animal noises and groans of hundreds of suffering men imprisoned in this train, which till a few hours before had been, as was amply evident, filled with cattle.
i left this inferno and went off and joined the artillery. we soon started, and marched through the moonlight night, along with troops, transport, and herds of cattle, all hurrying, scurrying towards port arthur, passing many chinese villages, seemingly quite deserted. once we heard a shout, 'the japanese cavalry are on us!' by dawn on the 27th, having again gone more than thirty miles, we arrived at the station of inchenzy. worn out and hungry, and finding no food at the station, we lay down on the platform. at six o'clock some hot food was provided for the men. the officers were asked to have some refreshment in a saloon carriage, the very one in which, three days ago—little expecting what was in front of us—i had gone to kinchou. at seven i left for port arthur in one of the trains of wounded coming from nangalin, and at nine o'clock i reached the fortress. the town was stupefied.
