Chapter VII: Part 7

Yes, we were all ready for death when leaving Japan. Men going to battle of course cannot expect to come back alive. But in this particular battle to be ready for death was not enough; what was required of us was a determination not to fail to die. Indeed, we were “sure-death” men, and this new appellation gave us a great stimulus. Also a telegram that had come from the Minister of War in Tokyo, was read by the aide-de-camp, which said, “I pray for your success.” This increased the exaltation of our spirits.

Let me now recount the sublimity and horror of this general assault. I was a mere lieutenant and everything passed through my mind as in a dream, so my story must be something like picking out things from the dark. I can’t give you any systematic account, but must limit myself to fragmentary recollections. If this story sounds like a vainglorious account of my own achievements, it is not because I am conscious of my merit when I have so little to boast of, but because the things concerning me and near me are what I can tell you with authority. If this partial account prove a clue from which the whole story of this terrible assault may be inferred, my work will not have been in vain.

The men of the “sure-death” detachment rose to their part. Fearlessly they stepped forward to the place of death. They went over Panlung-shan and made their way through the piled-up bodies of the dead, groups of five or six soldiers reaching the barricaded slope one after another.

I said to the colonel, “Good-by, then!”

With this farewell I started, and my first step was on the head of a corpse. Our objective points were the Northern Fortress and Wang-tai Hill.

There was a fight with bombs at the enemy’s skirmish-trenches. The bombs sent from our side exploded finely, and the place became at once a conflagration, boards were flung about, sand bags burst, heads flew around, legs were torn off. The flames mingled with the smoke, lighted up our faces weirdly, with a red glare, and all at once the battle-line became confused. Then the enemy, thinking it hopeless, left the place and began to flee. “Forward! forward! Now is the time to go forward! Forward! Pursue! Capture it with one bound!” and, proud of our victory, we went forward courageously.

Captain Kawakami, raising his sword, cried, “Forward!” and then I, standing close by him, cried, “Sakurai’s company, forward!”

Thus shouting I left the captain’s side, and, in order to see the road we were to follow, went behind the rampart. What is that black object which obstructs our view? It is the ramparts of the Northern Fortress. Looking back, I did not see a soldier. Alack, had the line been cut? In trepidation, keeping my body to the left for safety, I called the Twelfth Company.

“Lieutenant Sakurai!” a voice called out repeatedly in answer. Returning in the direction of the sound, I found Corporal Ito weeping loudly.

“What are you crying for? What has happened?”

The corporal, weeping bitterly, gripped my arm tightly.

“Lieutenant Sakurai, you have become an important person.”

“What is there to weep about? I say, what is the matter?”

He whispered in my ear, “Our captain is dead.”

Hearing this, I too wept. Was it not only a moment ago that he had given the order “Forward”? Was it not even now that I had separated from him? And yet our captain was one of the dead. In one moment our tender, pitying Captain Kawakami and I had become beings of two separate worlds. Was it a dream or a reality, I wondered?

Corporal Ito pointed out the captain’s body, which had fallen inside the rampart only a few rods away. I hastened thither and raised him in my arms.

“Captain!” I could not say a word more.

But as matters could not remain thus, I took the secret map which the captain had, and, rising up boldly, called out, “From henceforward I command the Twelfth Company.” And I ordered that some one of the wounded should carry back the captain’s corpse. A wounded soldier was just about to raise it up when he was struck on a vital spot and died leaning on the captain. One after another of the soldiers who took his place was struck and fell.

I called Sub-Lieutenant Ninomiya and asked him if the sections were together.

He answered in the affirmative. I ordered Corporal Ito not to let the line be cut, and told him that I would be in the centre of the skirmishers. In the darkness of the night we could not distinguish the features of the country, nor in which direction we were to march. Standing up abruptly against the dark sky were the Northern Fortress and Wang-tai Hill. In front of us lay a natural stronghold, and we were in a caldron-shaped hollow. But still we marched on side by side.

“The Twelfth Company forward!”

I turned to the right and went forward as in a dream. I remember nothing clearly of the time.

“Keep the line together!”

This was my one command. Presently I ceased to hear the voice of Corporal Ito, who had been at my right hand. The bayonets gleaming in the darkness became fewer. The black masses of soldiers who had pushed their way on now became a handful. All at once, as if struck by a club, I fell down sprawling on the ground. I was wounded, struck in my right hand. The splendid magnesium light of the enemy flashed out, showing the piled-up bodies of the dead, and I raised my wounded hand and looked at it. It was broken at the wrist; the hand hung down and was bleeding profusely. I took out the already loosened bundle of bandages,[57] tied up my wound with the triangular piece, and then wrapping a handkerchief over it, I slung it from my neck with the sunrise flag, which I had sworn to plant on the enemy’s fortress.

Looking up, I saw that only a valley lay between me and Wang-tai Hill, which almost touched the sky. I wished to drink and sought at my waist, but the canteen was gone; its leather strap alone was entangled in my feet. The voices of the soldiers were lessening one by one. In contrast, the glare of the rockets of the hated enemy and the frightful noise of the cannonading increased. I slowly rubbed my legs, and, seeing that they were unhurt, I again rose. Throwing aside the sheath of my sword, I carried the bare blade in my left hand as a staff, went down the slope as in a dream, and climbed Wang-tai Hill.

The long and enormously heavy guns were towering before me, and how few of my men were left alive now! I shouted and told the survivors to follow me, but few answered my call. When I thought that the other detachments must also have been reduced to a similar condition, my heart began to fail me. No reinforcement was to be hoped for, so I ordered a soldier to climb the rampart and plant the sun flag overhead, but alas! he was shot and killed, without even a sound or cry.

All of a sudden a stupendous sound as from another world rose around about me.

“Counter-assault!”

A detachment of the enemy appeared on the rampart, looking like a dark wooden barricade. They surrounded us in the twinkling of an eye and raised a cry of triumph. Our disadvantageous position would not allow us to offer any resistance, and our party was too small to fight them. We had to fall back down the steep hill. Looking back, I saw the Russians shooting at us as they pursued. When we reached the earthworks before mentioned, we made a stand and faced the enemy. Great confusion and infernal butchery followed. Bayonets clashed against bayonets; the enemy brought out machine-guns and poured shot upon us pell-mell; the men on both sides fell like grass. But I cannot give you a detailed account of the scene, because I was then in a dazed condition. I only remember that I was brandishing my sword in fury. I also felt myself occasionally cutting down the enemy. I remember a confused fight of white blade against white blade, the rain and hail of shell, a desperate fight here and a confused scuffle there. At last I grew so hoarse that I could not shout any more. Suddenly my sword broke with a clash, my left arm was pierced. I fell, and before I could rise a shell came and shattered my right leg. I gathered all my strength and tried to stand up, but I felt as if I were crumbling and fell to the ground perfectly powerless. A soldier who saw me fall cried, “Lieutenant Sakurai, let us die together.”

I embraced him with my left arm and, gnashing my teeth with regret and sorrow, I could only watch the hand-to-hand fight going on about me. My mind worked like that of a madman, but my body would not move an inch.

LIFE OUT OF DEATH

THE day of the 24th of August dawned upon a battle-ground covered with the dead and wounded of both sides. I discovered that the man in my arms was Kensuke Ono, a soldier whom I had trained. He was wounded in the right eye and pierced through the side. Thinking that he could not live, he had called my name and offered to die with me. Poor, dear fellow! My left arm that embraced him was covered with dark red clots of blood, which was running over Ono’s neck. Ono removed my arm, quietly pulled out his bandages, and bound up my left arm. Thus I lay surrounded by the enemy and seriously wounded; there seemed no slightest hope of my escape. If I did not expire then, it was certain that I should soon be in the enemy’s hands, which meant a misfortune far more intolerable than death. My heart yearned to commit suicide before such a disgrace should befall me, but I had no weapon with me, no hand that could help me in the act. Tears of regret choked me.

“Ono, please kill me and go back and report the conditions,” I urged him. I begged him to kill me, but he would not consent. He was almost blind, for both his eyes were covered with blood, but he grasped his rifle and said, “I resist your orders.”

I expostulated with him and explained our position, saying that the enemy had changed their attitude to a counter-attack and we were already surrounded by them; beside that, we had gone far into the enemy’s ground since the previous night, so that if we remained in that helpless state we were sure of being made prisoners. Then I asked him how he felt about becoming a captive of the Russians, and told him that it was a far greater mercy to me who could not move a limb for him to kill me at once and make good his escape. But Ono was already losing his reason and simply continued saying, “I resist your orders.” There was no other help, and I resigned myself to dying where I was. At the same time I was extremely anxious to send Ono and let him report the condition of affairs at the present moment. So as a means to make him go I said, “Bring me a stretcher and I will go,” and urged him to hurry up. Of course I knew full well that, since that incarnation of love in the shape of a stretcher company could not reach the ravine, much less could it come to this spot encircled by the enemy, my only hope was that he might thus have a chance of returning alive to our main body and also of reporting my death. Ono, in a state of frenzy, jumped up at my words, and saying, “Please wait here,” ran over to the earthworks and disappeared. Would he successfully go through the enemy’s investment, back to our main position? Later, when I found him in a hospital, I was astonished at his good fortune.

I was thus left lying alone surrounded by dead and dying. This moment was the most hallowed, the most painfully sad, and the most exasperating in my life. I repeated to myself Nelson’s words, “Thank heaven, I have done my duty!” and comforted myself with the idea that, though doomed to failure, I had done my whole life’s work. I thought of nothing else. I was only conscious that the life-blood of a man twenty-five years of age was fast flowing to its speedy exhaustion, but did not feel the pain of the wounds at all. A number of the Russians were going to and fro in the trenches only a few _ken_ from me and firing at our surviving men, each Russian using five or six rifles in turn. While I was watching their action with wide-open eyes, one of them turned back and noticed my being still alive. He signaled to the others, and three or four shots visited me at once. They fixed their bayonets and came jumping toward me. I shut my eyes. I was about to be butchered. My body was not of iron and stone to begin with, and its limbs were shattered and had no power to resist or chase the enemy. I could not escape from the poisonous teeth of the wolves. But Providence had not forsaken me yet. At this critical moment I only heard the din of a close fight near me, but was spared the point of an unknown savage’s bayonet. As they rushed toward me, five or six of our survivors encountered them, fought them, and all fell. And I who had had nothing but sure death to wait for was saved at the cost of my poor comrades’ lives. By this sacrifice was my faint breathing continued.

At this juncture a man jumped up the earthworks with a loud yell, and his sword raised high in the air. Who was this brave fellow who stormed the enemy’s trenches single-handed? I was astonished at his audacity. But alas! a shot came flying from somewhere, hit him, and he fell at my right side, as if crumbling down. He faced death as if returning home. He had jumped up there bravely all alone to seek death, and attracted the enemy’s attention by his triumphant cry.

After a while the shells from the Japanese army began to burst briskly above our heads. Percussion balls fell around us and hurled up smoke and blood together. Legs, hands, and necks were cut into black fragments, and scattered about. I shut my eyes in perfect resignation and prayed that my agony might be put to a speedy end by my being shattered to pieces all at once. Still no shell came to break my flesh and bones, but only small fragments came and injured my already wounded limbs. One wounded soldier who was near me received one of those horrible fragments on the face. He writhed for a few minutes, then fell on his face and expired. Every moment I expected to meet a similar fate; or to be eaten by the hungry dogs and wolves of the field, half dead, half alive, yet unable to resist my fate. I was being picked off inch by inch by the fierce eagle of the north. I heard some one crying “Nippon Banzai” at my head. I opened my eyes and dimly discovered that is was a poor, wounded man. His reason was all gone, yet he did not forget to shout Banzai for his Fatherland. He repeated Banzai over and over again, and also shouted “Come, come, Japanese soldiers!” He danced, jumped, and shouted in frenzy until he was exhausted, then he closed his lips and his color began to fade. I shut my eyes and prayed that he might go in peace.

The blood from my wounds had dyed my body red all over. My arms were bandaged, but all the other wounds were left uncovered. Sometimes I shut my eyes in quiet thought and again opened them to stare about me. To my left I saw two Japanese soldiers lying dead under the flying Rising Sun. Probably the flag had been planted there by these two heroes, but if our men pushed forward to it, the enemy were sure to shoot them down; while, if the Russians attempted to retake the spot, they were equally sure of being killed by our artillery. This dauntless pair had kept the spot unto death, and they must have died smiling and contented at their success. Is this not a fine piece of poetry in itself? What poet will sing these heroes to posterity!

As I was faintly smiling over this poetic sight of the battle-field, I saw the most brutal act committed that I could have imagined. Ah, men and women of a civilization of justice and mercy, please remember this fact! I have already told you of a savage Russian who butchered Captain Yanagawa wantonly. Here again, before my very eyes, I saw a Russian commit a most deliberate act of cruelty and barbarism. I had noticed a Russian officer repeatedly pointing to his wounded leg and making signs with his hands for help. Later I saw a Japanese hospital orderly, himself wounded, go up to the Russian. Without attending to his own wound, he took out bandages from a bag at his waist and bandaged the Russian. He did his duty of love and mercy faithfully, thinking that the wounded foe was not a foe any more, only a hero who had toiled for his own country. His kindness in dressing the wound of the Russian was so beautiful and holy that tearful gratitude was due to him even from a hard-hearted savage. But how did this Russian return the kindness of this hospital orderly? Tears of gratitude? No! A hand-shake of thanks? No! Indeed, no! Lo, this beastly Russian officer bestowed a pistol shot upon his Japanese benefactor! Do not forget this, you people of justice and humanity! As soon as the orderly had finished bandaging, the Russian pulled out his revolver from his hip and took the life of the good Samaritan with one shot! My heart was bursting with indignation at the sight of this atrocious outrage!

But my indignation, my exasperation, could not be translated into action. I simply shut my eyes and gnashed my teeth; soon my breathing became difficult. I felt that my life was fast ebbing, when some one caught hold of my coat and raised me; after a minute I was let alone. I slightly opened my eyes and dimly saw two or three Russians going up the hill. I had been on the point of being made a prisoner! That very moment when I was raised and laid down was the boundary-line between my life and death, between my honor and disgrace! The enemy caught hold of me once, but soon let me go; probably they thought I was dead. No wonder they thought so, for I was covered with blood.

Then some one came running stealthily to my side and fell down without a word. Was he dead? No, he was simply feigning death. After a while he whispered in my ear: “Let us go back. I will help you.”

In the midst of my panting, irregular breathing, I looked at the man. He was a stranger to me, a private with his head bandaged. I replied to his very kind offer and said that I could never get back alive under the circumstances, and wished him to kill me and go himself if he could. He said that he could not expect to get me back alive, but that he would at least carry my body; he would not allow it to be left among the enemy. As soon as he had said this, he caught my left arm and put it on his shoulder. At this juncture, the brave fellow who was lying at my right, and who had been groaning for some time, said in a faltering, tearful voice:—

“Lieutenant, please give me the last cup of water.” My heart was bursting with emotion, and I fell down by his side in spite of my helper. This poor fellow was probably one of my men; he asked me to send him out on his last journey. Poor, poor soul! Of course I could not force myself to go and leave my poor comrade alone.

“Have you any water?” I asked my helper. Whereupon he took out his water bottle, stepped over my chest, and poured water into the mouth of the dying man, who put his shattered hands together as in supplication and murmuring “Namu-Amida-Butsu![58] Namu-Amida-Butsu!” like a faint echo, slowly drew his last breath.

I had no heart to leave behind other comrades, dead or wounded, and seek my own safety. But my kind helper grasped my left arm once again, raised me on his back, and in one bound leaped over the earthwork, when both of us went down with a thud. Quickly he picked up an overcoat and covered me with it, and again in silence lay down by my side. In this way I was taken out of the trenches on the back of an unknown soldier. It was while being thus carried that my legs touched a corner of the earthwork, and I felt excruciating pain for the first time. After a while he whispered to me again, “As the shot are coming fast now, we must wait a little.” He unsheathed his bayonet and bound it as a splint to my broken leg with a Japanese towel. I was very thirsty and wanted to drink; he gave me all that was left in his bottle, saying, “Don’t drink much.” And also he soothed me often, saying, “Please be patient awhile.” I saw many comrades groaning and writhing about me, and my kind helper would pick up water bottles scattered over the place and give them drink. Often he would feign death to escape the enemy’s eyes, and lie down quickly, covering me with his body. I did not yet know even the name of this chivalrous man.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“My name is Takesaburo Kondo,” he answered, in a whisper.

“Which regiment?”

“I am in the Kochi regiment.”

I was being saved by a gallant soldier, who was neither my subordinate, nor of the same regiment as myself, and whom I had never seen before. What mysterious thread of fortune bound him and me together? I could not explain the mystery, but I do know that it was the friendly, brotherly spirit pervading all ranks of our army that produced such a man as Kondo, whose name should be handed down to posterity as a model soldier and a heroic character. A few hours after I had been rescued, I fell into a state of complete unconsciousness. When at last I recovered my senses, the first thing that came to my mind was the beloved name of Kondo.

Brave Takesaburo! He not only rescued me from the encircling enemy of Wantai, but also with great difficulty carried me to our main position. It was daytime and the place was exposed to the Russian machine-guns. He himself was wounded. If he had left me there, me whose life was more than uncertain, and escaped to a safe place by himself, things would have been much simpler for him. But he had sworn to help me, and that promise was more important to him than his own life. He braved every danger, bore every difficulty, and with wonderful tact and sagacity made use of every possible device in my rescue, and he was under no personal obligation to me. For a while he covered and protected me with his body, then he said to me:—

“Although a great many shot are still falling about us, we must not stay here till night, or the enemy are sure to come and kill us. We must go now. Please consider yourself already dead.”

He wrapped me up with an overcoat and beckoned to another soldier near by. The wounded man came crawling to my side and, when he saw me, said:—

“Are you not Lieutenant Sakurai?”

I did not know who he was, but he must have been of the same regiment as myself, since he knew me. He said to me, “How badly you are injured!” and whispered with Takesaburo. Then I was carried away by these two men and left behind me Wantai, now the grave of the unconsoled spirits of my dear comrades, thinking all the time that it was a great shame to go back alone, leaving the dead and wounded friends behind. My two helpers would lie down every five or ten steps as if they were dead, and try to deceive the enemy’s vigilance. While being thus carried I felt no pain, only a very unpleasant grating of broken bones. We went past wire-entanglements and breastworks, and in the burning, straight, noonday rays of the sun, I was finally brought to a ravine a little below the wire-entanglement, and I thought the place was the foot of Kikuan.

I was laid down here for some time, and at last began to feel faint and dizzy, and everything went out of my consciousness as in sleep. This was caused by the profuse bleeding. At this time I was counted among the dead; the report of my death reached home. My teacher, Mr. Murai, placed the postal card I had written to him in the family shrine[59] and offered to my spirit incense and flowers, as I have since been told.

For some hours I was practically dead in this ravine, but the gate of the other world was still closed against me and I began to breathe once more. The first thing that I heard was a tremendous noise of a heavy cannon-ball falling near me, throwing up sand and pebbles, and covering me with dust.

I felt that it was this roar that called my spirit back into this world. As soon as I recovered consciousness, my wounds began to hurt terribly. I tried to move my comparatively sound right leg, but it would not move; the blood gushed out of it and coagulated over it. I noticed that a sun flag was spread over my face as an awning and that Takesaburo Kondo was still by my side watching me. I thanked him for his faithful service with tears of gratitude.

He fastened poles to the overcoat wrapping me and begged four or five wounded men who happened to come along to help carry me to the first aid. Lifting a corner of the flag that covered my face, he said: “Lieutenant, it seems that my wound is not a serious one, as I am not going to the rear. Your case is serious. Please take good care of yourself and become well again,” and he left me at last. I never saw him again.

Did I take his hand and thank him for his gallant service? No; I could not. I only wept for his goodness with unbounded gratitude in my heart and prayed that he might be spared. “To share the shadow of the same tree, to drink from the same stream of water,” is said to be the promise of meeting again in another world. But he voluntarily threw himself into the boiling caldron of danger and rescued me out of certain death; he was truly the giver of my renewed life. My present life is not mine at all; I should have died in Bodai surely: that I now live is due to Takesaburo Kondo alone. Kondo was killed within a month after this! His spirit is now too far away to see me, whom he rescued amid such great difficulties and dangers. When I think of this I cannot cry out my sorrow or talk about my sentiments, because both the cry and the words become choked in my throat.

During the night four or five wounded soldiers took advantage of the darkness to carry me past the enemy’s front to the first aid, which they found with difficulty. I was still faint and in a dreamy state and could not take in much; the only thing I remember is that I was put on a stretcher, without removing overcoat and poles on which I had been borne thus far. At last I was laid down in a spot where people were busy running to and fro. That was indeed the first aid station. As soon as I realized this, I cried out:—

“Is Surgeon Yasui here? Surgeon Ando?”

“I am Ando! Yasui is also here!” was the immediate response. I did not expect to find these friends here, but simply called their names as in a dream, the names so dear to my heart. But the strange, mysterious thread that tied us together in friendship drew me to their place and put me under their care—a thing that could never be planned or mapped out in the battle-field, where separation and dispersion is so universal a rule. Heaven granted me a chance to meet them in my time of need. At this unexpected hearing of their voices my heart beat high.

“Surgeon Yasui! Surgeon Ando!”

They took my hands and stroked my forehead and said: “Well done. You have done well.”

I noticed that the body of my battalion commander, Major Kamimura, was lying to my left. When attacking the first skirmish-trenches, he was standing in the farthest front and cheering us on. And that same brave officer was now a spiritless corpse sleeping an eternal sleep here, his servant clinging to his body, crying at the top of his voice.

Soon I was bandaged and sent to the rear, and had to say an unwilling farewell to the two surgeon friends whom I had come across to my unexpected and unbounded joy!

When I met Surgeon Yasui later, he told me something of my condition at the time I was taken to the first aid:—

“The position of that first aid station was such that none of us expected to find any of the wounded of our detachment brought there; yet I was enabled to take care of you; that is the strangest of strange happenings. I had asked about you of the wounded men as they came in, and all said that you must be dead. There was one even who affirmed that you were killed below the wire-entanglements of Kikuan. So I had concluded that I should never see you again in this world of the living, but wishing to recover your body, I made careful inquiries about where you were killed—all to no purpose. Later, a sergeant by the name of Sadaoka came in, and I asked him about you and got the answer that you had been killed in the ravine of Kikuan. At once I dispatched some hospital orderlies to bring your body back on a stretcher, but it was too dark, and the enemy’s fire was still violent, and they came back without accomplishing anything. Still anxious to get you, I sent out a second group of orderlies, who brought you back, still living, to our great surprise and joy. At the first glance we thought that you must die in a few hours, and Surgeon Ando and I looked at each other in sorrow. Therefore, when we sent you on to the field hospital, of course we thought it was an eternal good-by in disguise.

“About a month after that I saw Takesaburo Kondo, who had rescued you, and a strange coincidence it was. I noticed a soldier passing our first aid station, shouldering a shovel. Suddenly the man fell face upward. I ran to the spot and saw that it was your Takesaburo Kondo. He was a special object of my respect and love, because I knew that he had saved you out of the enemy’s grip. He was still breathing faintly, so I gave him a drink from my water bottle; then he smiled and expired in peace.”

Thus the giver of my second life, Takesaburo Kondo, lost his noble life by a stray shot!

* * * * *

Our first general attack came to a close with these horrors. The second and the third repeated similar scenes or even more horrible ones. But our army was not discouraged; on the contrary, the repeated failures only added to their keen determination and abundant resourcefulness. Our army attacked again and again the desperately defending enemy, and at last took the great fortress. I have no right to speak about the investment of Port Arthur after this first assault. There are others better fitted to relate that great chapter of the war. For about three hundred days after this I was kept in bed, unable to move my hands or to stand on my feet. But in the agony of physical pain I was running to Liaotung in imagination, picturing to myself the brave and loyal officers and men fighting gallantly in the field. And on the second day of the Happy New Year of the 38th of Meiji I heard the news that the great fortress of Port Arthur, considered the strongest east of Suez, and the formidable base for the Russian policy of the aggression on Eastern Asia, no longer able to resist the tremendous power of the Imperial forces, had capitulated, and its commanding general had given himself up to the mercy of General Nogi. When I heard this news, not only I, but all the wounded who had taken part in the siege, wept while we rejoiced. The bleached white bones of our brave dead that filled the hills and valleys of Port Arthur must have risen and danced with joy! The spirits of those loyal ones who died unconsoled, crying “Revenge!” or “Port Arthur!” must have been lulled to eternal rest by this great news.

When I heard of the capitulation of Port Arthur, I cried with an overwhelming joy, and at the same time there came to me the thought of the great number of my dead comrades. I who had had the misfortune of sacrificing the lives of so many of my men on the battle-field, how could I apologize to their loyal spirits? I who left many brethren on the field and came back alone to save my life, how could I see without shame the faces of their surviving relatives?

* * * * *

The war is now over, the storm has ceased! The blood of brave warriors has bought this peace. The time may come when the hills of Port Arthur are razed to the ground and the river of Liaotung is dried up, but the time will never come when the names of the hundreds of thousands of those loyal officers and patriotic soldiers who gave their lives to the sovereign and to the country will be forgotten. Their names shall be fragrant for a thousand years and lighten ten thousand ages; their merits posterity shall gratefully remember for ever and ever!

APPENDICES

APPENDIX A

THE IMPERIAL RESCRIPT ON EDUCATION

KNOW ye, Our subjects:

Our Imperial Ancestors have founded Our Empire on a basis broad and everlasting and have deeply and firmly implanted virtue; Our subjects ever united in loyalty and filial piety have from generation to generation illustrated the beauty thereof. This is the glory of the fundamental character of Our Empire, and herein also lies the source of Our education. Ye, Our subjects, be filial to your parents, affectionate to your brothers and sisters; as husbands and wives be harmonious, as friends true; bear yourselves in modesty and moderation; extend your benevolence to all; pursue learning and cultivate arts, and thereby develop intellectual faculties and perfect moral powers; furthermore advance public good and promote common interests; always respect the Constitution and observe the laws; should emergency arise, offer yourselves courageously to the State; and thus guard and maintain the prosperity of Our Imperial Throne coeval with heaven and earth. So shall ye not only be Our good and faithful subjects, but render illustrious the best traditions of your forefathers.

The way here set forth is indeed the teaching bequeathed by Our Imperial Ancestors, to be observed alike by Their Descendants and subjects, infallible for all ages and true in all places. It is Our wish to lay it to heart in all reverence, in common with you, Our subjects, that we may all thus attain to the same virtue.

The 30th day of the 10th month of the 23d year of Meiji.

[Imperial Sign Manual. Imperial Seal.]

APPENDIX B

IMPERIAL RESCRIPT TO THE ARMY AND NAVY

THE Army of this country, in ancient times, stood from generation to generation under the supreme command of the Emperor. More than two thousand five hundred years have passed since the time when the Emperor Jimmu suppressed the barbarian tribes of the central provinces, and established himself on his Imperial Throne. The expedition was under the supreme command of the Emperor himself, and was composed of warriors of Otomo and Mononobe, the most illustrious warrior-clans of the day.

Military reorganization often was necessitated in subsequent ages by the vicissitudes of the times and the needs of the country’s wars; but throughout Our ancient history, the Emperor was always the regular commander. His place in the field was sometimes taken by the queen or the crown prince, but the supreme command of the Army was never intrusted to a subject.

In the Middle Ages all administrative matters, whether military or civil, were copied from China: six garrisons were organized, and two depots for horses, and a system of frontier guards were likewise established. The organization of the army was thus excellent on paper; but the long continuance of peace ruined the efficiency of the army, farmers and soldiers became two distinct classes.

The warriors imperceptibly changed into a professional caste, popularly called _bushi_, the principal men of which became the permanent leaders of the army; and the general chaos of the national life placed the chief powers of the Government in their hands, and kept them there for close upon seven hundred years.

No human power could probably have arrested this turn of Our national life; and yet it was a thing much to be regretted as being entirely out of harmony with Our national constitution and the rules laid down by Our ancestors.

After the periods of Kokwa (A. D. 1844) and Ka-ei (A. D. 1848) the Government of the Tokugawa House became too feeble to bear the responsibilities of national government, and a critical period was made more critical by the petitions for admission and intercourse which came from foreign nations. These circumstances caused great anxiety to Our Grandfather, the Emperor Ninko, and Our Father, the late Emperor Komei. When, not long afterwards, We ascended the throne in Our youth, the Shogun Tokugawa returned his authority into Our hands, and the lesser Barons likewise restored to Us their territories. Thus, in less than one year, the whole country came once more under Our direct control, and We were thus enabled to restore again the old system of Government. This great result was due in part to the meritorious services of Our loyal subjects of all classes who aided Us in the accomplishment of this great work, and partly to the mercy which every Emperor of this country has felt for Our people; but the basis of the whole work now successfully accomplished has been the fact that Our people themselves have a just knowledge of right and wrong and rightly apprehend the meaning of true loyalty.

During the fifteen years that have elapsed since then, We have reorganized Our military and naval system, and formed Our present army and navy in order to make Our country glorious. The army and navy is now under Our direct command, and though partial commands may from time to time be intrusted to some of Our subjects, the supreme command will always remain with Us. We desire you to remember this fact, and to let your descendants know that the Emperor is Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, so that the country may never again have to go through the ignominy of the Middle Ages.

We are your Commander-in-Chief and as such We rely upon you, as upon Our own hands, and We desire you to look upon Us as your Head, so that the relation between Us may be one of absolute and sincere confidence and trust. Whether We perform Our duty or not, depends entirely on the manner in which you perform yours. If Our country fails to stand high in the opinion of other nations, We desire you to share in Our sorrow. If it rises with honor, We will enjoy the fruits of it with you. Stand firm in your duty: assist Us in protecting the country; and the result must be the prosperity of the nation, and the enhancement of Our country’s reputation.

This is not all We wish to say to you. We have more advice for you, as follows:—

1. The principal duty of soldiers is loyalty to Sovereign and Country. It is not probable that any one born in this country will be wanting in patriotism; but for soldiers this virtue is so essential that unless a man be strong in patriotism he will be unfitted for this service. Disloyal men are like dolls, however expert and skillful they may be in their military art and science; and a troop which is well trained and led, but lacks patriotism, is like a band without a chief. The protection of the country and the maintenance of its prestige must rest upon Our military and naval forces: their efficiency or deterioration must affect, for good or for ill, the fate of Our nation; and it is therefore your duty not to entangle yourselves with social matters or political questions, but strictly to confine yourselves to the observance of your principal duty, which is loyalty, remembering always that duty is heavier than a mountain (and so to be much regarded), while death is lighter than a feather (and therefore to be despised). Never spoil your good name by a violation of good faith.

2. Soldiers must be polite in their behavior and ways. In the army and navy, there are hierarchical ranks from the Marshal to the private or bluejacket which bind together the whole for purposes of command, and there are also the gradations of seniority within the same rank. The junior must obey the senior, the inferior must take orders from the superior, who transmits to them Our direct command, and inferior and junior officers and men must pay respect to their superiors and seniors, even though they be not their direct superiors and seniors. Superiors must never be haughty or proud towards those of a lower rank, and severity of discipline must be reserved for exceptional cases. In all other cases superiors must treat those beneath them with kindness and especial clemency, so that all men may unite as one man in the service of the country. If you do not observe courtesy of behavior, if inferiors treat their superiors with disrespect, or superiors their inferiors with harshness, if, in a word, the harmonious relations between superiors and inferiors be lost, you will be not only playing havoc with the army, but committing serious crimes against the country.

3. It is incumbent on soldiers to be brave and courageous. These two virtues have in this country been always held in very high esteem, and are indeed indispensable to Our nation: soldiers, whose profession it is to fight against the foe, should never for one instant forget that they must be brave. But there is a true bravery and a false one, which is totally different, and the rough behavior of youth cannot be called true bravery. A man of arms must always act with reason and make his plans with _sang-froid_ and care. You must never despise even a small body of the enemy; on the other hand, you must never be afraid of large numbers; it is in the accomplishment of duty that true bravery lies. Those who thus appreciate true bravery will always behave with moderation towards others and will earn the respect of all men. If you act with violence you are not truly brave, and will be hated by others like a tiger or a wolf.

4. Soldiers are required to be faithful and righteous. Faithfulness and righteousness are among the ordinary duties of men: the man of arms can scarcely exist in the army without them. By the former is meant the keeping of one’s word, by the latter, the accomplishment of duty. Hence, if you wish to be faithful and righteous, you must first consider whether a thing may be done or not. If you promise to do something the nature of which is uncertain, and so entangle yourself with others, you will be in an embarrassing situation which may drive you to become unfaithful or unrighteous; and in such a case you will have no remedy, but only vain regrets.

Before embarking on any action, you must first consider whether it is right or wrong to do such a thing, and then take a firm stand upon reason. If you have reason to think that you cannot keep your word, or that the duty is too heavy, it will be wise if you refrain from action. The history of all ages gives us examples of the truth of this: many great men and heroes have perished or dishonored themselves by trying to be faithful and righteous in small things and mistaking fundamental reason, or by observing individual faithfulness at the expense of justice. You must take heed not to fall in this way.

5. It is incumbent upon soldiers to be simple and frugal. If you do not observe simplicity and frugality, you will become weak and false-hearted, and accustom yourself to luxurious habits which lead to cupidity. In that case your mind will become ignoble, and neither your loyalty nor your bravery will avail to save you from the contempt and hatred of your fellow men. This is one of the greatest sources of human misery, and if this evil be once allowed to seize hold of the army and navy, it will promptly spread like an epidemic, and all _esprit de corps_ and discipline will be broken through.

We have been very much concerned about this, and have issued disciplinary regulations designed for the prevention of luxury; and now Our constant concern leads Us to tender you this advice which We desire you to keep in mind.

The above Five Articles must never for a moment be neglected by you, and you will require a true heart to put them into practice. The Five Articles are the spirit of the man of arms, and the true heart is the spirit of the Five Articles. If the heart be not true, good words and good conduct are nothing but useless external ornaments. If the heart be true, you can accomplish everything.

The Five Articles form indeed the ordinary path of human society, and there is nothing in them that cannot be easily practiced and observed.

If you serve Our country in accordance with this Our Advice you will give satisfaction not only to the Nation but to Ourselves.

APPENDIX C

IMPERIAL PROCLAMATION OF WAR

WE, by the Grace of Heaven, Emperor of Japan, seated on the Throne occupied by the same Dynasty from time immemorial, do hereby make proclamation to all Our loyal and brave subjects as follows:—

We hereby declare war against Russia and We command our army and navy to carry on hostilities against that Empire with all their strength, and We also command all Our competent authorities to make every effort in pursuance of their duties, and in accordance with their powers, to attain the national aim with all the means within the limits of the law of nations.

We have always deemed it essential to international relations and made it our constant aim to promote the pacific progress of Our Empire in civilization, to strengthen Our friendly ties with other states, and to establish a state of things which would maintain enduring peace in the Extreme East and assure the future security of Our Dominion without injury to the rights and interests of other Powers. Our competent authorities have also performed their duties in obedience to Our will, so that our relations with the Powers have been steadily growing in cordiality. It was thus entirely against Our expectation that we have unhappily come to open hostilities against Russia.

The integrity of Korea is a matter of constant concern to this Empire, not only because of Our traditional relations with that country, but because the separate existence of Korea is essential to the safety of Our Realm. Nevertheless, Russia, in disregard of her solemn treaty pledges to China, her repeated assurances to other Powers, is still in occupation of Manchuria and has consolidated and strengthened her hold upon three provinces, and is bent upon their final annexation. And since the absorption of Manchuria by Russia would render it impossible to maintain the integrity of Korea and would in addition compel the abandonment of all hope for peace in the Extreme East, We determined in those circumstances to settle the question by negotiation, and to secure thereby permanent peace. With that object in view, Our competent authorities, by Our order, made proposals to Russia, and frequent conferences were held during the course of six months. Russia, however, never met such proposals in a spirit of conciliation, but by her wanton delays put off the settlement of the question and by ostensibly advocating peace on the one hand while she was on the other extending her naval and military preparations, sought to accomplish her own selfish designs.

We cannot in the least admit that Russia had from the first any serious or genuine desire for peace. She has rejected the proposals of Our Government; the safety of Korea is in danger, the vital interests of Our Empire are menaced. The guarantees for the future which We have failed to secure by peaceful negotiations We can only now seek by an appeal to arms.

It is Our earnest wish that by the loyalty and valor of Our faithful subjects, peace may soon be permanently restored and the glory of Our Empire preserved.

[Imperial Sign Manual.]

[Privy Seal.]

_February 10, 1904._

[Signed by the Minister of State.]

The Riverside Press

CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS

U · S · A

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Dogs and monkeys are proverbially unfriendly in Japan, as dogs and cats are with us.

[2] “Death is returning home.” Quotation from the Chinese classics.

[3] _Meiji_ (Enlightenment). The era beginning with the reign of the present emperor.

[4] Quoted from a war-song.

[5] The cherry-blossom is the flower of the warrior, because of its beauty, its short life, and its glorious death.

[6] Quoted from the Imperial Rescript on Education. This may be called the Japanese Gospel on Education, and is read with all possible tokens of reverence in all Japanese schools on all ceremonial occasions. For full text, see Appendix A.

[7] _Go_, a measure of capacity equal to a little more than a gill.

[8] _Sen_, equal to half a cent.

[9] Rice is a banquet to people so poor that they live ordinarily on millet.

[10] “Banzai!” “Hurrah!” (Literally, “Ten thousand years!”)

[11] This refers, not as it may seem, to the thought of coming back disabled, but to the idea of returning without the body after death.

[12] The sheath and hilt of whitewood indicates the ceremonial dagger used in committing hara-kiri.

[13] _Yamato-damashii_, the spirit of Yamato, an expression that contains in itself the idea of all that is heroic in Japanese history and character. Yamato was the province first conquered by Jimmu Tenno, and where he established his empire. The name is still used for that province, and poetically, to mean all Japan.

[14] _Koto_, the Japanese word used here, means, literally, “arms and legs.”

[15] Quoted from the Imperial Rescript to the Army and Navy upon which the moral education of the military and naval men of Japan is founded. For the full text, and the five articles, see Appendix B.

[16] Quoted from the Imperial Declaration of War against Russia. For full text see Appendix C.

[17] _Oni_, a goblin or devil.