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
Hirose, now promoted to the rank of Commander for the gallantry which he
displayed upon the occasion of the first attempt, was given the command
of the largest ship, the _Fukui Maru_, while, to my intense surprise and
gratification, I was given the command of the _Chiyo Maru_, a craft of
1746 tons. The expedition was in charge of Commander Arima, who went
with Hirose. The ships were armed with a few old Hotchkiss
quick-firers, for use against torpedo craft, should any attack us.
Our preparations were completed late in the afternoon of 26th March; and
we immediately weighed and proceeded to sea, escorted by a flotilla of
destroyers and torpedo-boats, among which was the _Kasanumi_,
temporarily under the command of my subordinate, young Hiraoka, who had
already proved himself to be a very capable, discreet, and courageous
lad.
The weather on this occasion was everything that could be desired,
perfectly clear, with no wind and a sea so calm that the veriest
cock-boat could have safely ventured upon it. The only drawback was
that there was a moon, well advanced in her first quarter, floating high
in a sky dappled with light, fleecy cloud through which enough light
percolated to render even small craft distinctly visible on the horizon.
But, after all, this would not greatly matter, indeed it would be an
advantage to us, always provided, of course, that we were not
prematurely sighted by some keen-visioned, swift-steaming Russian scout;
for the moon would set about midnight, while two o'clock in the morning
was the time set for our attempt.
The run to the offing of Port Arthur was like a pleasure trip; our fleet
of old crocks pounded along steadily, with a soft, soothing sound of
purling water rising from under their bows, dominated from time to time
by the clank of our crazy engines, which our mechanics had doctored up
as thoroughly as time permitted, in order to ensure that they should
outlast the run across. There was nothing for us to do but follow our
leader, so I spent an hour of the time in making sure that our solitary
boat should reach the water with certainty and on a level keel when the
time should come to launch her, taking the turns out of the davit
tackles, well greasing the falls, oiling the block sheaves, and rigging
up a device of my own contriving whereby the necessity to unhook the
blocks could be avoided when the boat touched the water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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