The History of the World War I. Various Authors
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from an exhortation sent by the Japanese Crown Prince to 'press the enemy, braving all hardships'. Ashore, indeed, the pressure on the enemy developed steadily as the days passed. On November 2 the Austrian cruiser Kaiserin Elizabeth, which had, with the German gunboats still afloat, been engaging vigorously in the fighting, sank, having probably been blown up deliberately, and the floating dock also disappeared. Iltis Fort, moreover, was silenced, two guns being smashed and ammunition giving out, and Japanese infantry advanced and captured an eminence in German hands. On another ridge, however, hard by the silenced fort, some German naval gunners carried out a ruse which saved for the present both their position and their battery, composed of naval 9-cm. pieces, which were exposed dangerously to fire from sea and land. Lieutenant von Trendel, in command, during the night constructed wooden models of cannon, which he placed in position 200 yards from his real guns. Next morning he exploded powder near by, and drew the fire of the besiegers, attracted by the flashes, upon the dummies. That day the wireless and electric power stations were wrecked, and large attacking forces crept further forward, despite severe fire, and entrenched closer to the enemy's lines. In the evening and night the latter showed special activity, star rockets and other fireworks being used to illumine the opposing positions, which were heavily fusilladed. A German night-attack was delivered, but was repulsed. Next day, the 4th, and on the two following days, progress was maintained. The Allied trenches were pushed forward until they were right up to and almost half round the nearest German forts. Many casualties were suffered, but the German fire was kept down by the Japanese guns, whose accuracy was remarkable. The weather conditions were unfavourable, high winds and heavy rains prevailing, and the troops in the trenches had to endure hard privations. So effective was the bombardment, however, that during November 5 and 6 plans were prepared for the final assault. It was arranged that a general infantry attack should be made as soon as practicable. The garrisons in the forts, meanwhile, were beginning to exhaust their ammunition, of which they had been, during the preliminary operations, strangely prodigal. Guns lay silent for other reasons than structural injury, though the latter cause, indeed, was frequent, a single shot, in one case, from the Suwo, the Japanese flagship, having destroyed a 24-cm. gun and killed eight men on Fort Hui-tchien-huk. In the town itself the streets, not immune from falling projectiles, were deserted, and the only centre of social intercourse and conviviality was the German Club, where regularly officers or non-combatants slipped in for dinner, luncheon, or a glass of beer. But it was realized that the end was not far distant.
Central redoubt taken.
Mass attack on forts.
The white flag.
Early in the morning of November 6 the airman von Pluschow flew away across Kiao-chau Bay, and did not return. He escaped with the Governor's last dispatches into Chinese territory, where his machine was interned. That day and night saw no cessation of the firing, the guns of the defenders still roaring at intervals. About an hour after midnight the first impulse of the general attack took effect. While a particularly heavy artillery fire kept the Germans in their bomb-proof shelters, the central redoubt of the first line of defence, which had been badly shattered by the bombardment, was rushed by a storming party headed by General Yoshimi Yamada. Engineers had in the darkness sapped right up to the barbed-wire entanglements, which being cut provided way for the infantry, who, while part held the enemy in front, rushed the redoubt on both flanks. Two hundred prisoners were taken, and the Japanese flag was hoisted. The besiegers were through the German line, but the position had to be consolidated, or disaster would follow. Danger from the flank was, however, soon obviated by advances in other parts of the line. Just after five o'clock a battery on Shao-tan Hill was captured; half an hour later another battery in Tao-tung-chien redoubt was taken, and Fort Chung-shan-wa, the base of the German right wing, fell. The shadows were still dense, and the final phase of the siege, viewed from Prince Heinrich Hill, presented a sight brilliant with many flashes and flaming fireworks, and a sound dominated by the thunder of the batteries. But dawn, as the besiegers began in mass to close in upon the main line of forts Iltis, Moltke, and Bismarck, was breaking. It was decided to storm these positions forthwith, since the German fire, owing to exhaustion of the ammunition, was dying away. Governor Meyer-Waldeck, who had been wounded, realized now that further resistance was futile. Shortly before six o'clock he sent Major von Kayser, his adjutant, accompanied by another officer and a trumpeter, from the staff headquarters bearing the white flag: at the same time a signal of surrender was made from the Observatory. This was not, however, observed, while von Kayser's party, coming under fire, was dispersed by a shell which killed the trumpeter and the adjutant's horse. Meanwhile, Japanese and British were closing in, and were tensely awaiting the final assault. It was never made. Soon after seven o'clock a welcome sight relaxed the tension of the troops, torn, dirty, and weary, calling forth cheers from the British, and shouts of 'Banzai!' from the Japanese. The campaign was over: Tsing-tao had fallen. White flags were fluttering from the forts.
Terms of capitulation.
War material taken.
Cost of victory.
That evening delegates from the two armies met and signed the terms of capitulation, which were unconditional. Honours of war were accorded the defenders, the Governor and his officers being permitted to retain their swords. The Allies marched into the town, and on November 10 the garrison was formally transferred. Over 4,000 Germans were sent to Japan as prisoners, and large quantities of war material were confiscated. The captures included 30 field-guns, 100 machine-guns, 2,500 rifles, 40 motor-cars, £1,200 in bullion, and 15,000 tons of coal. All ships in harbour, and also the floating dock, had been destroyed, but it seemed probable that the Kaiserin Elizabeth could be successfully raised. Sufficient provisions were found to feed 5,000 persons for three months, and the victors were able to regale their appetites with luxuries such as butter, crab, or salmon, which were plentiful. Looting, however, was strictly forbidden. For fastidious persons the bath, after many weeks, was again available, and proved, indeed, in view of steady accumulations of mud, a salutary course. Measures, meanwhile, were at once taken to restore the town to its normal condition. The troops and sailors were employed in removing débris or undischarged land and sea mines. Another Japanese gunboat was sunk, and several officers and men lost their lives, while engaged in this dangerous work. The victory had to be paid for, indeed, with a heavy toll of life and limb. The Japanese casualties numbered 236 killed and 1,282 wounded; the British, 12 killed and 53 wounded. On November 16 the Allies formally took possession of Tsing-tao; and a memorial service was held for the dead.
Plan for Dardanelles campaign.
The plan of breaking through the Straits of the Dardanelles, and thus clearing the way to Constantinople, is believed to have been conceived by Winston Churchill, then First Lord of the British Admiralty. After careful consideration it was approved by the military and naval authorities, and plans were made to carry out the project. The initial steps are described in the following chapter.
GALLIPOLI
A. JOHN GALLISHAW
The Newfoundlanders in the War.
Husky, steel-muscled lumbermen; brawny, calloused-handed fishermen; loose-jointed, easy-swinging trappers; athletes from the city foot-ball and hockey teams; and gawky, long-armed farmers joined the First Newfoundland Regiment at the outbreak of war. A rigid medical examination sorted out the best of them, and ten months of bayonet fighting, physical drill, and twenty-mile route marches over Scottish hills had molded these into trim, erect, bronzed soldiers. They were garrisoning Edinburgh Castle when word came of the landing of the Australians and New-Zealanders at Gallipoli. At Ypres the Canadians had just then recaptured their guns and made for themselves a deathless name.
Not militaristic.
So the Newfoundlanders felt that as colonials they had been overlooked. They were not militaristic and hated the ordinary routine of army life, but they wanted to do their share. That was the spirit all through the regiment. It was the spirit that possessed them on the long-waited-for day at Aldershot when Kitchener himself pronounced them "just the men I want for the Dardanelles." That