Night fell quickly over the valley.
After sunset a cold wind descended from the hills and slowly carried away the smoke of the day's battle. Far away, from the direction of the Shaho River, artillery still rumbled like distant thunder.
The battle had not ended.
It had only grown quieter.
On the slope of a low hill Skoropadskyi's Cossacks prepared for the raid.
Horses shifted impatiently. Leather creaked as men tightened saddles and checked their weapons. Some quietly stroked their horses' necks. Others sat in the grass, waiting.
The sergeant approached Skoropadskyi.
—"The scouts returned."
—"And?"
—"The camp is still there."
He pointed toward the southern hills.
—"Wagons along the road. Fires burning. Guards walking the perimeter… though not very carefully."
Skoropadskyi looked toward the distant glow.
—"How many?"
—"Several hundred, at least."
The sergeant lowered his voice.
—"Most of them are resting. After today's battle they feel safe."
Skoropadskyi gave a faint smile.
—"Tonight they will learn they are not."
He turned to the men.
—"Gather."
The Cossacks stepped closer.
For several seconds Skoropadskyi said nothing.
The wind moved through the dry grass.
Then he spoke.
—"Brothers… beyond those hills stands their supply camp."
He pointed into the darkness.
—"Food. Ammunition. Everything that keeps their army moving."
The men listened silently.
—"Tomorrow those wagons will feed the soldiers attacking our infantry."
He paused.
—"We are barely a hundred."
A few Cossacks exchanged glances.
—"They are many more."
The silence grew heavier.
—"Some of us will not ride back tonight."
No one moved.
—"But if those supplies burn…"
He gestured toward the distant battlefield.
—"Thousands of our soldiers will live tomorrow."
Another pause.
—"I will ride there."
He placed his hand on the saddle.
—"Those who ride with me — saddle your horses."
No one stepped back.
Within minutes the column moved through the hills.
Scouts rode ahead.
After some time one returned.
—"Less than a kilometer."
Skoropadskyi raised his hand.
—"Stop."
The glow of campfires flickered beyond the ridge.
—"Dismount."
Men slid from their saddles.
—"We go the rest of the way on foot."
He quickly issued orders.
—"Thirty men remove the sentries."
—"Twenty go to the supply wagons."
—"Kerosene and fire."
He pointed toward the dark tree line.
—"The rest stay with me."
The sergeant asked quietly:
—"And the signal?"
Skoropadskyi drew his saber.
—"When the fire begins."
The men vanished into the darkness.
The grass muffled their steps.
The first Japanese sentry stood beside the road.
He yawned.
A shadow moved behind him.
The Cossack's arm wrapped around his mouth.
The knife flashed.
The guard collapsed silently.
But the second sentry heard movement.
—"Who goes there?"
He raised his rifle.
The shot cracked through the night.
Everything changed.
—"Enemy!"
Japanese soldiers leapt from the fires.
Men rushed from tents.
But flames were already spreading.
Kerosene soaked the wooden crates.
Fire climbed along the wagons.
A Japanese officer burst from a tent.
—"To arms!"
At that moment hooves thundered from the darkness.
—"Forward!"
Skoropadskyi rode first.
The Cossacks burst from the tree line like a storm.
Sabers flashed in the firelight.
Horses leapt over wagons.
Japanese soldiers tried to form ranks.
—"Formation!"
But the formation collapsed before it began.
The Cossacks smashed into them.
Skoropadskyi struck the first soldier who raised a rifle.
Another fired from only a few meters away.
The bullet shattered a lantern behind him.
Nearby the sergeant cut down a Japanese corporal.
—"Burn the wagons!"
Cossacks overturned crates.
One ripped open a supply chest.
—"Ammunition!"
—"More oil!"
Flames spread rapidly.
Suddenly a Japanese officer on horseback appeared between the burning wagons.
—"Follow me!"
Several soldiers rallied around him.
The officer saw Skoropadskyi.
And charged.
Their sabers collided.
Steel rang in the firelight.
The Japanese officer struck quickly.
Skoropadskyi barely deflected the blow.
Their horses slammed together.
Around them the camp erupted into chaos.
Cossacks fought at arm's length.
Shots cracked through smoke.
The officer attacked again.
This time Skoropadskyi twisted in the saddle and struck upward.
The blade slipped beneath the officer's arm.
The man froze.
Then fell from the saddle.
But now more Japanese soldiers were arriving.
A bugle sounded somewhere in the camp.
Reinforcements.
A line of Japanese infantry formed between the burning wagons.
—"Fire!"
A volley erupted.
One of the Cossack sergeants fell from his saddle.
Another tried to lift him.
—"Leave me!" the wounded man shouted.
—"Ride!"
A moment later another volley struck.
He did not move again.
The Japanese began advancing.
The panic in the camp was turning into organized resistance.
—"They're forming again!" the sergeant shouted.
Skoropadskyi glanced toward the burning wagons.
One supply depot still stood untouched.
—"That one!"
Several Cossacks rode toward it.
They smashed the crates.
—"Powder!"
—"Pour the oil!"
Flames spread across the stack.
Seconds later the entire depot exploded.
A wave of fire rolled across the camp.
Japanese soldiers scattered again.
Skoropadskyi understood.
The objective was achieved.
—"Withdraw!"
—"Back to the hills!"
The Cossacks fought their way toward the northern edge of the camp.
Some rode through burning wagons.
Others fired from the saddle.
One Cossack turned and shouted:
—"Ride! We'll hold them!"
He and four others charged back toward the pursuing soldiers.
Their fate was sealed.
But they bought the others time.
The surviving riders burst out of the camp.
Behind them flames rose higher.
But soon another sound followed.
Hooves.
One Cossack looked back.
—"Japanese cavalry!"
Thirty riders were already chasing them.
—"They're gaining!"
Skoropadskyi scanned the terrain.
Ahead lay a narrow ravine.
—"Through the ravine!"
The Cossacks turned sharply.
Horses leapt down rocky slopes.
Shots rang behind them.
One rider cried out and fell.
But the rest crossed the ravine.
Skoropadskyi turned his horse.
—"Ten men!"
Several riders joined him.
—"Carbines ready!"
The Japanese cavalry entered the ravine.
—"Fire!"
The volley cracked through the night.
Two Japanese riders fell.
The others slowed.
That hesitation saved them.
—"Ride!"
The Cossacks disappeared into the hills.
Only after several kilometers did Skoropadskyi raise his hand.
—"Stop."
The horses trembled with exhaustion.
Men gathered slowly.
The sergeant walked along the line counting.
Finally he returned.
—"Twenty-six."
No one spoke.
Below them the Japanese camp burned like a torch.
One Cossack said quietly:
—"There were more than a hundred of us."
Another replied:
—"But the camp burns."
The sergeant removed his papakha.
—"Two sergeants killed."
He paused.
—"I am the only one left."
Skoropadskyi looked at him.
—"Your name?"
—"Fedor Litvin."
—"Where are you from, Litvin?"
—"Chernihiv province."
One of the Cossacks muttered:
—"Almost neighbors."
Several men stared at the fire.
One young Cossack spoke quietly.
—"Stepan stayed near the wagons."
Another nodded.
—"He told us to ride."
Litvin said quietly:
—"He knew he wouldn't make it."
Skoropadskyi removed his glove slowly.
—"Tonight many men did more than war could ask of them."
He looked toward the burning valley.
—"Men like that hold an army together."
One Cossack asked:
—"Do you think this will stop the Japanese?"
Skoropadskyi shook his head.
—"No."
He paused.
—"But tomorrow their advance will slow."
Another rider spoke quietly.
—"Then the dead did not fall for nothing."
Skoropadskyi answered calmly.
—"No."
He mounted his horse.
—"But this war is only beginning."
He looked across the men.
—"Rest while you can."
One Cossack asked:
—"Where do we ride next?"
Skoropadskyi looked toward the east.
Toward the distant thunder of guns.
—"To the Shaho."
Below them the camp still burned.
And beyond the dark hills two armies were already preparing for battle.