Now was the moment to strike and to strike hard. Out of the South came a double line of men. They stretched Westward across the brown sunlit plain--a far-flung battle line. War is full to the lips with horrors, yet it has its crown of glory. And this is the crown--a line of battle advancing to the attack. The blood raced hot and fast through our veins as we watched them moving over the plain. Two paces between each man; forty paces between the lines; khaki tunics and dark blue trousers; rifle in hand. Onward they marched in long steady unbroken lines. No parade was ever finer. The brown furrows and yellow stubble were crushed flat under their feet. In their path lay a deserted hamlet, over whose grey walls hung the shadows of fir trees. Near the village they halted, and knelt with rifle at the shoulder--ready for attack. The supports came up at the double. Then the lines rose and passed into the village. A moment or two and they reappeared in the fields beyond, where sheaves of millet caught the glow of the setting sun. On the right rose a solitary grey rock crowned by a temple, whose hoary towers and crennelated walls seemed to have been hewn out of the mountain. In the shadow of a sheer cliff lay a cluster of peasant cottages, and on the Western incline was a dark grove. This was their objective, for here in trenches and among the escarpments was a rearguard of Russians ready to shed their blood for the safety of the army. Away to the left stood another grey rock, shaped like the segment of a basin upturned, and isolated on the plain. One side fell sheer into a deep bed, through which flowed a shallow stream. On the near bank behind a little grove and a few houses were posted two Japanese batteries, the escort of which covered the Western slope of the rock. The lines were advancing upon Temple Hill when the enemy’s guns found them. From Bastion Hill and from the heights to the North came the roar of artillery, and over the unswerving lines burst clouds of shrapnel. The effect was hardly perceptible, and not for a second did the guns check the advance. Swinging toward the East the lines moved steadily forward. On our front appeared another line advancing from the South-west, so that Temple Hill lay within a triangle of rifles. Shrapnel continued to rain upon the open ranks, but the forward movement went on, the lines converging upon the Temple until they faced opposing rifles. North of Temple Hill runs a road on which the Russian infantry were preparing to withstand the onset. Their rifles were already making gaps in the rapidly advancing ranks, but the progress was unchecked.