. A staff officer's scrap-book during the Russo-Japanese war. ncreasedin violence, and as I went I got mixed up in thesunken road with a battalion and a number of ammu-nition mules pushing their way up to reinforce. Nota single preternaturally solemn face did I see amongstthe men. All were gay and smiling with joyful antici-pation, and it was evident that the only anxiety whichexisted was lest they should be too late to participatein whatever was happening on the far side of themountain. Such keenness was contagious, and I pressedon, running whenever I came to a bit of level the pas
. A staff officer's scrap-book during the Russo-Japanese war. ncreasedin violence, and as I went I got mixed up in thesunken road with a battalion and a number of ammu-nition mules pushing their way up to reinforce. Nota single preternaturally solemn face did I see amongstthe men. All were gay and smiling with joyful antici-pation, and it was evident that the only anxiety whichexisted was lest they should be too late to participatein whatever was happening on the far side of themountain. Such keenness was contagious, and I pressedon, running whenever I came to a bit of level the pass itself was steep, and by the time I gotover it and down to the old temple, the Russians haddefinitely begun to retire, whilst the Japanese had lefttheir trenches some time previously, and were now ad-vancing in pursuit. At the old temple two Japanesecompanies had piled arms on the reverse side of theridge, and were beginning to dig graves for the Russiandead, of whom there were a considerable number,scattered along the line of the main road, and on a rise. oz zS H o s H < P. S N H P ?JO w KH Battle of the Heaven-Re aching Pass 255 of the ground immediately behind the temple. Abouttwenty or thirty Japanese dead had been collected intoa heap close to the temple walls, where they lay await-ing cremation, with their faces covered with Russiangreatcoats. Were I writing this to please any one but myself,now would be the moment to introduce some suitablereflections on that well-worn theme, the horrors of the life of me I cannot see these horrors it horrible to see these young heroes, scarcely cold,laid by other heroes beneath the fresh green turf of theHeaven-reaching pass ? The death-chamber ; the as-sociations ; the callous professionals, fill me with aweand even with shrinking. Here all is natural, and ifsad is yet glorious in its sadness. A gigantic Russian, badly wounded in the leg, washobbling up the hill with the aid of his rifle, which heused as a suppor
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Keywords: ., bookauthorhamiltoniansir1853194, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900
