In November, at the beginning of the attack, the place, though covered with fire and communicating trenches, was, as regards fortification and armament, very weak. Everything possible had been done by Colonel Tretiakoff to protect the 6-inch guns mounted on its highest point by means of improvised protection of rails, beams, sheet-iron, stones, and earth. On the 27th the attack commenced and followed the usual course. For some hours the top of the hill was enveloped in the smoke of the shells bursting over it; then the Japanese quickly, and in lines, crept up the steep slopes, and the assault began. They fought and fought like fiends--fought till exhausted, till they lost consciousness, one of their battalions being literally swept from the face of the earth. It was dark before the last of them was driven off and the fighting ceased; but there was no rest, for all dug throughout the night--in many cases dug their own graves. At dawn a single shot echoed forth from the besieging lines, and in a few seconds the hill was again a smoking crater--the focus of the concentrated fire of many guns, whose shells were bursting in clusters. Then the assault commenced and continued the whole day. The Commandant, keenly observant of what was happening all along the front, was always ready with reserves to forestall the enemy in strength wherever the latter chose to deliver his blow. With a defensive line of eighteen miles the initiative was, of course, with the besiegers, but the Commandant was able to counter. The messages from the hill became more and more urgent. Kondratenko asked and begged for reinforcements, but the local reserves had already all been absorbed into the firing line: only one thing was left--to combine forces; and Smirnoff sent échelons from the main reserve to Tea Valley. And what were Stössel's staff doing all this time? Some were reading copies of telephone messages sent to the Commandant, and Stössel was breakfasting, writing orders, eating, sleeping, eating again, and again sleeping. What happened at the front he only heard at fourth-hand. He had no telephone to his house--he hated telephones--and having nothing to do, he now took an interest in the Town Guard, and decided to send them up to the trenches on the hill. General Smirnoff protested. He fully appreciated their worth, but he could not allow them to go into the advanced positions, for though very keen and brave, they were ill-disciplined and had little training, so that they could not be expected to take the place of regulars. The Commandant always regarded them as his last military reserve. Having, through the mediation of Kondratenko, persuaded Stössel of this, he insisted on their being appointed to the hospitals as attendants, to replace the regulars, who were sent to the front. Stössel hated these civilian soldiers: why, I do not know.