Human Bullets: A Soldier's Story of Port ArthurSakurai, Tadayoshi
History
Human Bullets: A Soldier's Story of Port Arthur
Sakurai, Tadayoshi
Lüshun (China) -- History -- Siege, 1904-1905
Our—that is, the middle—division of the left column was assigned to
attack Waitu-shan. We marched quietly, binding the horses’ tongues,
furling our flag, and trailing our arms. When we came close to the
place, the enemy poured a fierce volley on us from the top of the hill
and offered stubborn resistance. Brave, worthy foe! We responded with
a brisk fire and sent showers of bullets and shells. They were on an
eminence and we at the foot of the hill; their shots fell like rain
on our heads and raised dust at our feet. At last the curtain of our
first act was raised. This was our first chance to compare our strength
with theirs. The coming and going of bullets and shells became fiercer
and fiercer as time went on. The exploding gas of the smokeless powder
filled the whole field with a vile smell. The sound of the opening
and shutting of the breech-blocks of the guns, the sound of empty
cartridges jumping out, the moaning of the bullets, the groaning of
the shells, wounding as they fell, how stirring, how sublime! The cry
“Forward! Forward!” rises on every side. Steep hills and sword-like
rocks are braved and climbed at a quick, eager pace; the cartridges
rattle in their cases; the sword jumps; the heart dances. March and
shoot, shoot and march! The enemy’s shot rain hard; our bullets fly
windward. The battle has become fierce.
Until we have pierced the body of the foe with our shot, we must
continue to harass them with our fire. The bayonet is the finishing
touch; the guns must play a large part in a battle. So, therefore, we
must be very careful in shooting. When the fighting once begins, we
begin to dance from the top of the head to the tip of the toe, we lose
ourselves in excitement, but that does not do. It is very difficult to
act coolly, but the aiming and the pulling of the trigger must be done
deliberately, however noisy the place may be, however bloody the scene.
This is the secret determining who shall be the victor.
“Pull the trigger as carefully and gently
As the frost falls in the cold night,”
is the poem teaching the secret. Such a cool, deliberate shot is sure
to hit the mark. The enemy fall one after another. Then follows the
final assault (tokkwan), then the triumphal tune is sung, the Kimi ga
yo[38] is played, and Banzai to the Emperor is shouted. This is the
natural order of events.
The spirit of the men on the firing line improved steadily; the
battle-field became more and more active. The number of the wounded
increased moment after moment. Cries of “A-a!” sounded from every side,
as the bullets found their mark and men fell to earth unconscious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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