Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun: A Story of the Russo-Japanese WarCollingwood, Harry
General
Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War
Collingwood, Harry
Russo-Japanese War, 1904-1905 -- Juvenile fiction
Sasebo was a very hive of activity, to such an extent indeed that I had
the greatest difficulty in finding quarters. All the hotels were packed
to their utmost limit, and indeed I do not know how I should eventually
have fared had I not luckily encountered an unmistakable Briton, whom I
halted, and to whom I confided my plight, asking if he could direct me
to some place where I could find accommodation for the night. He turned
out to be a Scotsman named Boyd, in business at Sasebo, and no sooner
had I made my situation plain to him than he took me by the arm in the
most friendly manner and exclaimed:
"Come awa' hame wi' me, laddie. I'll pit ye up wi' the greatest of
pleasure, and the gude-wife 'll be gey an' pleased to meet a body fresh
frae the auld country."
It was easy to see that the fine fellow was absolutely sincere in his
invitation; I therefore gladly accepted it, and, half an hour later,
found myself comfortably housed in the bosom of a typically hospitable
Scottish family, whom I found most delightfully genial, and from whom I
subsequently received much kindness.
By my friend Boyd's advice I sallied forth early the next morning in
search of Admiral Togo, who was of course up to his eyes in business,
and who would be difficult to find unless I could catch him before he
left his hotel. I was fortunate enough to arrive while he was still at
breakfast, and, having sent in my card, was at once admitted.
I found him still seated at the table, in company with several other
officers, all of them dressed in a naval uniform almost identical in cut
and appearance with our own. Like every other Japanese I ever met, he
received me with the utmost politeness, and, having read Baron
Yamamoto's letter of introduction, again shook hands with me most
heartily, expressed the pleasure it afforded him to welcome another
Englishman into Japan's naval service, and forthwith proceeded to
introduce me to the other officers present, one of whom, I remember, was
Captain Ijichi, of the _Mikasa_, Togo's flagship. They all spoke
English, more or less, Togo perfectly, for he had served as a boy aboard
the British training ship _Worcester_, and later in our own navy. Also
he had taken a course of study at the Royal Naval College, Greenwich.
He was a typical Japanese, short and thick-set, with black eyes that
seemed to pierce one through and through and read one's innermost
thoughts. His hair, beard, and moustache were black, lightly touched
here and there with grey, and though it is a little difficult to
correctly estimate the age of a Japanese, I set him down at about fifty,
which I subsequently learned was not far out.
Like Baron Yamamoto, the Admiral asked me quite a number of questions;
and at length, when he found that I had qualified for gunnery, torpedo,
and navigating duties, and had seen service in a destroyer, he said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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