Podcasts about Czechoslovakia

Dr. Rainer Zitelmann — historian, author, and one of the world's leading experts on Hitler and National Socialism — joins Lou to discuss something that would be unthinkable in the United States: he's currently under criminal investigation in Germany for retweeting a meme comparing Putin to Hitler. Zitelmann, who wrote his doctoral dissertation on Hitler and has spent decades studying National Socialism, shared a post drawing a parallel between Hitler's promises before invading Czechoslovakia and Putin's promises before invading Ukraine. The result? A letter from the Berlin police and thousands of dollars in legal fees — with potentially more to come. They dig into Germany's Section 86a speech laws, how legislation designed to stop neo-Nazis is now being used against libertarians, historians, and center-right journalists, the government-funded neighbor-reporting hotlines that echo the Stasi, why cancel culture has escalated into legal repression across Europe, and what it means for free speech when even the people who know the history best can't reference it. They also get into Rainer's new book New Space Capitalism (Skyhorse Publishing) — the case for private property rights in space, how SpaceX has done what 50 years of government programs couldn't, and why capitalism is the only system that has ever actually worked, on Earth or anywhere else.  Pre-order New Space Capitalism: Search "New Space Capitalism" on Amazon  Follow Rainer: RainerZitelmann.com  Lou's book: That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore: On the Death and Rebirth of Comedy https://amzn.to/3VhFa1r  Watch Lou's sketch comedy on Red Coral Universe: https://redcoraluniverse.com/en/serie...  XX-XY Athletics — 20% off with code LOU20: https://www.xx-xyathletics.com/?sca_r...  Substack: www.substack.com/@louperez  Newsletter: www.TheLouPerez.com  Listen: Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/.../the-lo... Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2KAtC7e... Amazon: https://music.amazon.com/.../2b7d4d..... YouTube Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list... Lou Perez is a comedian, author, and producer. He's appeared on Gutfeld!, FOX News Primetime, and One Nation with Brian Kilmeade. He was Head Writer and Producer of the Webby Award-winning We the Internet TV, and his sketch "Wolverine's Claws Suck" has over 20 million views. He hosts The Lou Perez Podcast on the Lions of Liberty Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Last time we spoke about the Soviet-Japanese neutrality pact. In the summer of 1939, the Nomonhan Incident escalated into a major clash along the Halha River, where Soviet-Mongolian forces under Georgy Zhukov decisively defeated Japan's Kwantung Army. Zhukov's offensive, launched on August 20, involved intense artillery, bombers, and encirclement tactics, annihilating the Japanese 23rd Division and exposing weaknesses in Japanese mechanized warfare. The defeat, coinciding with the Hitler-Stalin Nonaggression Pact, forced Japan to negotiate a ceasefire on September 15-16, redrawing borders and deterring further northern expansion. Stalin navigated negotiations with Britain, France, and Germany to avoid a two-front war, ultimately signing the German-Soviet pact on August 23, which secured Soviet neutrality in Europe while addressing eastern threats. Post-Nomonhan, Soviet-Japanese relations warmed rapidly: fishing disputes were resolved, ambassadors exchanged, and the Chinese Eastern Railway sale finalized. By 1941, a neutrality pact was concluded, allowing Japan to pivot southward toward China and Southeast Asia.   #193 The Chiang-Wang Divide Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After that lengthy mini series covering the battle of Khalkin Gol, we need to venture back into the second sino-japanese war, however like many other colossal events….well a lot was going on simultaneously. I wanted to take an episode to talk about the beginning of something known as the Reorganized National Government of the Republic of China, or much shorter, the Wang Jingwei Regime. It's been quite some time since we spoke about this character and he is a large part of the second sino-japanese war.    After the fall of Tianjin and Beiping, the government offices in Nanjing entered their annual summer recess. All of GMD's senior leadership, from Chiang Kai-shek down to Wang Jingwei, gathered on Mount Lu, a picturesque resort in northern Jiangxi, south of the Yangtze, famed for cliffs, clouds, and summer villas. Although Chiang had visited Mount Lu every summer, this was the first occasion that nearly the entire central government assembled there. Analysts suspected the gathering was a deliberate move to relocate government functions inland in the event of total war. Dozens of the nation's leading intellectuals were invited to Mount Lu to discuss strategies for countering Japan's ambitions. The forum was scheduled to begin on July 15 and to last twenty-seven days in three phases. The bridge incident caught them off guard. Unlike Manchuria, Beiping had long been the nation's capital, and the shock added urgency to the proceedings. When the forum, chaired by Wang, finally opened on July 16, speculation ran as to whether this signaled another regional conflict or the onset of full-scale war. The media pressed for a resolute stance of resistance from the government. To dispel the mounting confusion and perhaps his own indecision, Chiang delivered a solemn speech on July 17, declaring that if the incident could not be resolved peacefully, China would face the "crucial juncture" of national survival and would consider military action; if war began, every Chinese person, from every corner of the country and from every walk of life, would have to sacrifice all to defend the nation.   Chiang's Mount Lu Speech was now commonly regarded as the moment when China publicly proclaimed its firm commitment to resistance. Contemporary observers, however, did not take Chiang's stance at face value. Tao Xisheng, a Peking University law professor who had been invited, recalled that after the speech, people gathered in Hu Shi's room to discuss whether a peace option remained. Chiang left the mountain on July 20, leaving Wang to chair the conference. The discussions continued upon their return to Nanjing, where a National Defense Conference was organized in mid-August. It was also Tao's first encounter with Wang Jingwei. A "peace faction," largely composed of civil officials and intellectuals, began to take shape around Wang, favoring diplomatic solutions over costly and potentially ineffective military action.   During this period, both Chiang and Wang publicly called for resistance, while both harbored hopes for a peaceful solution. Yet their emphases differed. On July 29, Wang Jingwei delivered a radio address from Nanjing titled "The Critical Juncture," echoing Chiang's slogan. He likewise asserted that after repeated concessions and retreats, the critical juncture had come for China to rise against Japan. It would be a harsh form of resistance, since a weak nation had no alternative but to sacrifice every citizen's life and scorch every inch of land. Yet toward the end, Wang's speech took on an ironic turn. He stated, "The so-called resistance demands sacrificing the whole land and the whole nation to resist the invader. If there is no weakness in the world, then there is also no strength. Once we have completed the sacrifice, we also realize the purpose of resistance. We hail 'the critical juncture'! We hail 'sacrifice'!" The sentiment sounded almost satirical, revealing his doubt about the meaning of total sacrifice.   The hope for containment was crushed by Japan's ongoing advances. On November 12, Shanghai fell. Chiang's gamble produced about 187,200 Chinese casualties, including roughly 30,000 officers trained to German standards. Japanese casualties were estimated at a third to a half of the Chinese losses, still making it their deadliest single battle to date. The battered Japanese Imperial Army and Navy, long convinced of their invincibility, were consumed by vengeful bloodlust. The army swept from Shanghai toward Nanjing, leaving a trail of murder, rape, arson, and plunder across China's heartland.   With the fall of Nanjing looming, the central government announced on November 20 that it would relocate to Chongqing, a city upriver on the Yangtze protected by sheer cliffs. Plans for Chongqing as a reserve capital had already begun in 1935, with Hankou as the midway station. To preserve elite troops for the future while saving face, Nanjing was entrusted to General Tang Shengzhi and his roughly one hundred thousand largely inexperienced soldiers. Nanjing fell on December 13. Despite this victory, Japan's hopes of ending the China Incident within three months were dashed. The carnage produced by the war, especially the Rape of Nanjing, left a profound moral stain on humanity. A mass exodus from the coastal provinces toward the hinterland began. People fled by boats, trains, buses, rickshaws, and wheelbarrows. Universities, factories, and ordinary households were moved halfway across China, step by step. The nation resolved to persevere, even in distant mountains and deserts if necessary. In Sichuan alone, government relief agencies officially registered about 9.2 million refugees during the war years.   Chiang Kai-shek, after paying respects at Sun Yat-sen's mausoleum, flew to Mount Lu with Song Meiling. The so-called Second Couple chose a more modest path: like most refugees, the Wang family traveled upriver along the Yangtze. On November 21, they left Nanjing, abandoning a recently renovated suburban home and thirty years of collected books. Coincidentally, the ship carrying Wang Jingwei from Nanjing to Wuhan was SS Yongsui, the former SS Zhongshan that had escorted Sun Yat-sen to safety and witnessed Wang's ascent and subsequent downfall from power. Ironically renamed "Yong-sui," the ship's new title meant "peace," while the compound term suijing denoted a policy of appeasement. This symbolism—Wang being carried away from Nanjing by a ship named "Eternal Peace"—foreshadowed his eventual return to the city as a champion of a "peace movement."   After the Mount Lu Forum, Hu Shi and Tao Xisheng could not return to Beiping, now under Japanese occupation. They joined the government in Nanjing. Beginning in mid-August, Japanese bombers began attacking Nanjing. Air power—an unprecedented weapon of mass destruction—humbled and awed a Chinese public largely unfamiliar with airborne warfare. By striking a target that did not serve its immediate interests, Japan demonstrated its world-class military might and employed psychological warfare against the Chinese government and people. Because Zhou Fohai's villa at Xiliuwan had a fortified cellar suitable as an air-raid shelter, a group of like-minded intellectuals and civil servants sought refuge there. They preferred a peaceful approach to the conflict, subscribing to the idea of trading space for time—building China's industrial and military capabilities before confronting Japan. Tao Xisheng and Mei Siping, old allies of Zhou Fohai, lived in his house. Another frequent guest was Luo Junqiang, an ex-communist. The former CCP leader Chen Duxiu, recently released from prison, joined their gatherings a few times. Gao Zongwu hosted another meeting site. Hu Shi, as a guest himself, jokingly called this circle the "Low-Key Club" (Didiao julebu), a label that underscored their pragmatic defiance of the government's high-flown rhetoric urging all-out resistance. Many members of this group would later become central figures in a conspiracy known as the "peace movement," with Wang Jingwei as its leader and emblem.   As Gerald Bunker noted, the peace scheme did not originate with Wang but with certain associates of Chiang, elements in Japanese military intelligence, and members of liberal-minded Japanese political circles who were linked to Konoe. Zhou Fohai belonged to the Chiang-loyalist CC faction, named for Chen Guofu and Chen Lifu. Zhou believed that resistance under current conditions was suicidal. He sought to influence Chiang through people around him, including Wang Jingwei, whom he found impressionable and began visiting at Wang's salon. Gao Zongwu, head of the Foreign Ministry's Asian Department, felt sidelined by Chiang's uncompromising stance. They shared the sense that Chiang might be willing to talk but feared the price, perhaps his own leadership. They were dismayed by the lack of a long-range war plan beyond capitulation. Their view was that China's battlefield losses would worsen the terms of any settlement, and that the war's outcome seemed to benefit Soviet Russia and undermine the GMD more than China itself. The rapid collapses of Shanghai and then Nanjing vindicated their pessimism. Chiang's autocratic decision-making only deepened their dissatisfaction. They feared China was again at risk of foreign conquest from which it might not recover.   Wang Jingwei became the focal point for these disaffected individuals, drawn by his pacifist leanings, intellectual temperament, and preference for consensus-building. After the government relocated to Hankou, he lent guidance to the Literature and Art Research Society (Yiwen yanjiu hui), a propagandist body led by Zhou Fohai and Tao Xisheng. Its purpose was to steer public opinion on issues like the war of resistance and anticommunism, and to advocate a stance that the government must preserve both peace and war as options. Many believed it to be Wang's private organization; in truth, Chiang supported its activities. For much of 1938, Chiang's belligerent anti-Japanese rhetoric and Wang's conciliatory push were two sides of the GMD's broader strategy.   Among the society's regional branches, the Hong Kong chapter flourished under Mei Siping and Lin Baisheng. In addition to editing South China Daily News, Lin established Azure Books and the International Compilation and Translation Society (Guoji bianyishe) as primary propaganda organs. Ironically, Mei Siping had himself been a radical during the 1919 student protests, when he helped set fire to the deputy foreign minister's house in protest of perceived capitulation to Japan.   Wang Jingwei also actively engaged in international efforts to broker peace between Japan and China, including Trautmann's mediation by the German ambassador. Since the outbreak of war, various Western powers had contemplated serving as mediators, but none succeeded. Nazi Germany, aligned with Japan in an anti-Soviet partnership, emerged as China's most likely ally because it did not want Japan to squander its strength in China or compel China to seek Soviet help. Conversely, Japan's interest lay in prolonging the war or achieving a swift settlement. Ambassador Trautmann met with Wang Jingwei multiple times from October 31 to early November 1937 to confirm China's preference for peace before negotiating with Japan. The proposal Trautmann carried to Chiang Kai-shek on November 5 proposed terms including autonomy for Inner Mongolia, a larger demilitarized zone in North China, an expanded cease-fire around Shanghai, a halt to anti-Japanese movements, an anti-communist alliance, reduced tariffs on Japanese goods, and protection of foreign interests in China. Although Japan did not specify territorial gains, these terms deviated significantly from Chiang's demand to restore pre–Marco Polo Bridge status. After Shanghai fell, Chiang's rigidity softened.   On December 5, at Hankou, the National Defense Conference agreed to begin peace negotiations based on Trautmann's terms, a decision Chiang approved. But it was too late: Nanjing fell on December 13, and a provisional Beiping government led by Wang Kemin was established, signaling Japan's growing support for regional separatism. On December 24, Japan issued an ultimatum for a harsher deal to be accepted by January 10. In response, Chiang resigned as chairman of the Executive Yuan on January 1, 1938, and was succeeded by his brother-in-law Kong Xiangxi. Chiang declared that death in defeat was preferable to death in disgrace and refused to yield under coercion. The Konoe Cabinet announced on January 16 that Japan would not negotiate with Chiang Kai-shek. Trautmann's mediation had failed.   After Konoe's announcement, mediation became even more precarious, as it placed the already deadly, no-win situation between the two nations in deeper jeopardy. Secret contacts between the two governments persisted through multiple channels—sometimes at the direction of their own leaders, other times at the initiative of a cadre of officials and quasi-official figures of dubious legitimacy. Many of these covert efforts were steered by Chiang himself. In late 1937, Wang Jingwei even sent Chen Gongbo to Rome to explore the possibility of Italian mediation between China and Japan. After meetings with Mussolini and Foreign Minister Ciano, Chen concluded that Italy had no genuine goodwill toward China and favored Japan. His conversations with other Western leaders (Belgium, France, Britain, and the United States) proved equally fruitless. In diaries, Zhou Fohai and Chen Kewen recorded a pervasive mood of pessimism among Hankou and Chongqing's national government factions. Although direct champions of negotiating with Japan were few, many voices insisted that China was on the brink of collapse while secretly hoping peace talks would begin soon. Gao Zongwu's mission emerged from this tense atmosphere.   With Konoe's cabinet refusing to negotiate with Chiang Kai-shek, many regarded Wang as the best candidate to carry forward a diplomatic solution. Yet Wang remained convinced of his loyalty to Chiang and to Chiang's policy. The Italian ambassador visited Wuhan to offer mediation between Wang and the Japanese government, an invitation Wang declined. Tang Shaoyi's daughter traveled to Wuhan to convey Tokyo's negotiation intent, but was similarly turned away. Even Chen Bijun, then in Hong Kong, urged Wang to join her and start peace negotiations; he again declined. Tao Xisheng remembered a quiet night when Wang confided in him: "This time I will cooperate with Mr. Chiang until the very end, regardless of how the war unfolds." His stance did not change when Gao Zongwu reported that the Imperial Japanese Army General Staff Office wanted him to head the peace talks.   Gao Zongwu's bid was brokered by Dong Daoning, head of the Japan Affairs Section in the Foreign Ministry. Shortly after Konoe's statement, Dong traveled to Shanghai to meet Nishi Yoshiaki, representative of Mantetsu, and Matsumoto Shigeharu, a Dōmei News Agency journalist. Nishi and Matsumoto then introduced Dong to Kagesa Sadaaki, head of the Strategy and Tactics Department in the General Staff Office. Kagesa introduced Dong to Deputy Director Tada Hayao and colleagues Ishiwara Kanji and Imai Takeo, who agreed that a peaceful resolution to the China crisis aligned with Japan's interests. It would be inaccurate to paint these figures as pacifists: Ishiwara, who helped build Manchukuo, also recognized that further incursions into China could jeopardize Japan's hard-won gains. They proposed a temporary resignation by Chiang to spare Konoe from having to retract his refusal to negotiate, thereby allowing Wang to lead the talks. In short, the scheme aimed to save face for Konoe.   Dong returned to Hong Kong and delivered the proposal to Gao Zongwu, who had been stationed there since February under Chiang's orders to oversee intelligence and liaison with Japan. Luo Junqiang, Gao's contact, testified that Gao was paid monthly from Chiang's secret military fund. Gao went back to Hankou twice, on April 2 and May 30. On the second trip, he personally conveyed Japan's terms to Chiang. Gao later admitted that Chiang never gave him explicit instructions, but rather cultivated an impression of tacit approval. At no point did Gao view the deal as Chiang's betrayal. As long as Chiang retained control of the military, Wang's leadership could only be nominal and temporary. Unbeknownst to Wang, Gao's personal ties to Chiang remained hidden from him; he learned of them only through Zhou Fohai. Startled, he handed the information to Chiang Kai-shek and told Tao Xisheng: "I cannot broker peace with Japan alone. I will not deceive Mr. Chiang." Given Tao's later departure from Wang's circle to rejoin Chiang, Tao's recollection could be trusted.   Two months later, Wang left Chongqing to pursue a peace settlement. A key factor may have been persistent lobbying by Zhou, Gao, Mei, Tao, and especially his wife Chen Bijun. Luo Junqiang recalled that Kong Xiangxi objected that Gao acted without him, prompting Chiang to order Gao to halt his covert efforts, an order Gao ignored. Gao and Mei Siping continued to press for a deal. Gao even spent three weeks in Japan in July, holding extensive talks with Kagesa Sadaaki and Imai Takeo. Their discussions produced the first substantive articulation of the Wang peace movement as a Sino-Japanese plot to end the "China incident." On November 26, Mei flew from Hong Kong to Chongqing with a draft of Japan's terms and Konoe's planned announcement. The proposal stated that the Japanese army would withdraw completely within two years once peace was reached, but it demanded that China formally recognize Manchukuo. Wang was to leave Chongqing for Kunming by December 5, then proceed to Hanoi. Upon Japan receiving news of his arrival in Hanoi, the telegram would reveal the peace terms. This pivotal moment threw Wang into intense inner turmoil. Zhou Fohai visited Wang daily, and Wang delayed decisively each time, much to Zhou's frustration. Ultimately, it seemed that Chen Bijun rendered the final judgment on Wang's behalf. As in earlier episodes, Wang found himself trapped by an idealized image of himself held by family, followers, and loyalists, seen by them as a larger-than-life figure who must undertake a mission too grand to fail.   Yet Wang's stance was not purely involuntary. As Imai Takeo noted, he fundamentally disagreed with Chiang's strategy of resistance. The so-called scorched-earth approach caused immense suffering. Three episodes stood out: the 1938 Yellow River flood, ordered by Chiang to impede Japan's advance, which destroyed dikes and displaced millions, yielding devastating agricultural and humanitarian consequences; the subsequent epidemics and famine that followed, producing about two million refugees and up to nine hundred thousand deaths, while failing to stop the Japanese advance toward Wuhan (which fell in October); and the Changsha fire, ignited in the early hours of November 13, which killed nearly thirty thousand people and devastated most of the city. These events sharpened Wang's doubts about Chiang's defense strategy, especially its reckless execution and cruelty. By late November, Wang began to openly challenge Chiang's approach, delivering a series of speeches advocating his own war-weariness and preference for limiting resistance to preserve national strength for future counterstrikes. He argued that guerrilla warfare burdened the people and wasted national resources that could be saved for a later, more effective defense. He urged soldiers to exercise judgment and listen to their consciences, and he attributed much of the civilian suffering to the Communists; nonetheless, with General von Falkenhausen, Chiang's German adviser, now urging a shift toward smaller-unit mobile warfare, Wang's critique of Chiang's strategy took on a more pointed, risksome tone. If resistance equaled total sacrifice, Wang was not prepared to endorse it. As Margherita Zanasi noted, Wang Jingwei and Chen Gongbo had long shared a vision of a self-consciously anti-imperial "national economy", the belief that China's economy had not yet achieved genuine nation-power and that compromising with the foe might be necessary to save the national economy.   Wang and Zhou also worried that continuing resistance would strengthen the Communists and that genuine international aid would not arrive, at least not soon. After Nazi Germany occupied Czechoslovakia, Wang briefly hoped for the formation of an antifascist democratic alliance. Yet the Munich Agreement disappointed him. Viewing Western democracies as culturally imperialist, he doubted they would jeopardize their relations with Japan, another imperial power, on China's behalf. This view was reinforced by Zhou Fohai and other China specialists who had recently joined Wang's circle; they argued that China would fall unless the international situation shifted dramatically. Their forecast would prove accurate only after Pearl Harbor.   In the end, Wang longed for decisive action. He had been sidelined since the government's move to Wuhan. At the GMD Provisional National Congress in Hankou (March 29–April 1), the party resolved to restore Chiang Kai-shek to near-total control by reasserting the authoritarian zongcai system. The Congress also established the People's Political Council as a nominal nod to democracy, but it remained largely consultative. Wang was elected deputy director and chairman of the council, yet he clearly resented the position. Jiang Tingfu described Wang's Hankou mood as "somewhat resentful," recognizing the role as largely ceremonial. More optimistic observers attributed his dismay to the return of dictatorship, and he likely felt increasingly useless. Since the Mukden Incident, Wang had prioritized party unity and been content to play a secondary role to Chiang, but inaction did not fit his sense of historical purpose. It was Zhou Fohai who urged Wang to risk his reputation for a greater cause, presenting a calculated nudge to someone susceptible to idealism. A longing to find meaning through action may have finally pushed him toward a fateful decision. As Chen Bijun bluntly told Long Yun, her husband "was merely an empty shell in Chongqing and could contribute nothing to the country; thus he wanted to change his surroundings."   Wang considered staying abroad as a serious option amid the Hanoi uncertainty. Gao Zongwu had previously told Japanese negotiators that if Konoe's stance did not satisfy Wang, he might head to France. Chongqing echoed this possibility. On December 29, Ambassador Guo Taiqi, acting on Chiang's orders, telegraphed Wang suggesting he go to Europe "to take a break." It would have offered a graceful exit. Kagesa recommended Hanoi as Wang Jingwei's midway station because, as a French colony, it offered a relatively safe environment. Only the French were armed there, and several members of the extended Wang family had grown up in France, enabling them to communicate with the colonial authorities.   After Wang departed for Hanoi, Long Yun hesitated for weeks. On December 20, he telegraphed Chiang, saying Wang had paused in Kunming on the way to Hanoi to seek medical treatment. Knowing this was untrue, Chiang replied on December 27 with a stern warning about Japan's unreliability, a message that appeared to have persuaded Long. A day later, Long urged leniency for Wang. Following Wang's publication of the "yan telegram," public anger likely pushed Long toward a final decision. On January 6, he informed Chiang of a letter from Wang delivered by Chen Changzu, and he noted that the Wangs were considering the French option, but recommended allowing Wang to return to Chongqing to show leniency and to enable surveillance.   Chiang replied two days later that Wang would be better off going to Europe. The extended Wang family resided in two Western-style mansions at 25 and 27 Rue Riz Marché, surrounded by high walls. On February 15, Chongqing's envoy Gu Zhengding brought their passports to Hanoi. Accounts differed on what happened next. One version had Wang offering to travel abroad if Chongqing accepted his proposal to start peace talks; if Chongqing remained indecisive, he would return to voice his dissent. Another version claimed Gu's primary task was to bring Wang back to Chongqing, which Wang declined, preferring France.   Although the French option was gaining favor, the Wang circle continued to explore other avenues. In early 1939, secret contacts with the Japanese government persisted, though not always in a coordinated way. Chiang's intelligence advised that the Wang group was forming networks in Shanghai and especially Hong Kong, with Gao Zongwu playing a central role. On February 1, Gao returned from Hong Kong and stayed for five days, finding Wang in a despondent mood. Wang asked Gao to pass along a few letters to Japanese leaders urging the creation of a unified Chinese government to earn the Chinese people's understanding and trust. Wang believed his actions would serve the best interests of both China and Japan. On March 18, the Japanese consulate in Hong Kong informed Gao that funding for the Wang group would come from China's customs revenues that Japan had seized.   Meanwhile, Chiang Kai-shek sensed a shift in the war's direction. On February 10, Japan seized Hainan, China's southernmost major island. The next day, Chiang held a press conference describing the development as "the Mukden Incident of the Pacific." He warned that Japan's ambitions could threaten British and French colonial interests and U.S. maritime supremacy. Gao Zongwu read the speech and concluded that Chiang's outlook had brightened.   For three months, the Wang circle met frequently to weigh options. The prominent writer and scholar Zhou Zuoren, who had already accepted a collaborationist post as head of the Beiping library, warned Tao Xisheng, saying "Don't do it," signaling his misgivings about collaborating with Japan based on his reading of Japanese politics. As Zhou observed, many young Japanese militarists did not even respect General Ugaki, let alone a foreign leader.   Then the assassination of Zeng Zhongming, Wang's secretary and protégé, abruptly altered the meaning of Wang's mission. The Wang group was deeply unsettled by Zeng Zhongming's assassination. The event came as a shock. On March 20, Gu Zhengding's second Hanoi visit concluded. Allegedly Gu delivered passports and funds for a European excursion. On a bright spring day, the entire Wang family enjoyed a lighthearted outing to Three Peaches Beach, only to be halted by a French officer who warned they were being followed. During their afternoon rest, a man posing as a painter, sent by the landlord to measure rooms for payment, appeared at the door and was turned away when he insisted on entering every room. More than twenty people in the household, none were armed.   Since January, Hanoi had been a hive of BIS activity. The ringleader was Chen Gongshu, a veteran operative under spymaster Dai Li, though Chen's recollections clashed with those of other witnesses, leaving the exact sequence unclear. Chen claimed their role was intelligence and surveillance until March 19, when an unsigned telegram from Dai Li ordered, "Severest punishment to the traitor Wang Jingwei, immediately!" The mission supposedly shifted. The Wang family was followed the next day but evaded capture in traffic, prompting a raid on the house. Reports varied: some said Wang resided on the second floor of No. 27; others suggested he lived in No. 25, with No. 27 used for day guests. The force entered the courtyard, forced open the door to Wang's room, and a getaway car waited outside. Chen, in the car, heard gunshots: initial shots toward a downstairs figure, then three shots through a bedroom door hacked open with an axe, aimed at a figure beneath the bed, believed to be Wang Jingwei. The team drove off after four to five minutes. Vietnamese police soon detained three killers who lingered in the courtyard and even listened in on a hospital call. Chen didn't realize the target had been misidentified until the next afternoon. Some BIS records suggested Wang and Zeng Zhongming had swapped bedrooms that night, a detail Chen doubted. Chen did not mention a painter's earlier visit.   There were competing accounts of the event with their numerous inconsistencies that fueled conspiracy theories. Jin Xiongbai outlined three possibilities: (1) the killers killed the "wrong person" as a warning to Wang Jingwei; (2) they killed Zeng to provoke Wang toward collaboration; or (3) the episode was always part of a broader Chiang-Wang collaboration plan.   In any case, Dai Li showed unusual leniency toward Chen Gongshu, who was never punished and later led the Shanghai station. After Dai Li's agent Li Shiqun was captured in 1941, Li not only spared Chen's life but recruited him on a double-agent basis for the remainder of the war, with Chen retiring to Taiwan. Chiang Kai-shek never discussed the case publicly or in his diary, and his silence was perhaps the strongest indication that he ordered the killing.   I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Wang Jingwei, once a key figure in China's resistance against Japan, grew disillusioned with Chiang Kai-shek's scorched-earth tactics during the Second Sino-Japanese War. Amid devastating events like the Yellow River flood and Changsha fire, which caused immense civilian suffering, Wang joined a peace faction advocating negotiation. Secret talks with Japanese officials led to his defection in 1938. He fled Chongqing to Hanoi, where an assassination attempt, likely ordered by Chiang, killed his secretary Zeng Zhongming instead.   

In this episode, I speak with artist, curator, and author Barbara Benish about her book ArtMill: A Story of Sustainable Creativity in Bohemia — a hopeful, timely memoir about artistic resistance, creative community, and rebuilding culture after totalitarianism.In This Episode:[0:12] Host Pam Uzzell introduces the episode, reflecting on fear of communist countries during the Cold War and how that connects to today's political climate in the US[2:34] Introduction to Barbara Benish's book ArtMill: A Story of Sustainable Creativity in Bohemia and why it feels especially relevant now[3:49] Barbara describes her memoir — from leaving California as a young artist to integrating into Cold War Czechoslovakia, working with underground artists, and eventually founding a rural arts center[6:14] Growing up in Southern California with Czech immigrant heritage, witnessing the Soviet invasion of Prague in 1968, and losing connection to the Czech language[7:42] Crossing the Iron Curtain as a young American backpacker — navigating fear, border crossings, and Cold War propaganda[10:41] Connecting with dissident artists in Prague — serendipity, secret networks, and the surveillance state[12:08] Life under the secret police — being followed, bugged venues, and how artists developed coded communication to resist oppression[13:53] Barbara's frustration with the commercialization of art in 1980s Los Angeles and what drew her to the underground art scene in Czechoslovakia[15:14] The Art Dialogue exchange — bringing together LA and Czech artists during the Cold War and the challenges of mounting a cross-cultural exhibition under an authoritarian regime[16:57] The Velvet Revolution of 1989 — why it's also called the Artist Revolution, the role of playwright-turned-president Václav Havel, and lessons from The Power of the Powerless for democracy today[21:47] Buying the Červený Mlýn (Red Mill) in rural Bohemia — a $17,000 ruin, a leap of faith, and the beginning of a new life[26:28] Renovating the mill, building a rural arts community, and the reality behind the romance[27:46] ArtMill today — artist residencies, children's programs, university study abroad, and regenerative creativity in rural Central Europe[29:12] Art as sustainability — how creative practice connects to environmental stewardship, indigenous ways of knowing, and regenerative living[34:42] What today's political resistance in the US has in common with Cold War Czechoslovakia — and what comes after resistance[38:45] Barbara reads a moving passage from ArtMill about climate, beauty, dignity, and hope for future generations[40:35] Where to find Barbara Benish, upcoming California readings, and how to get the bookResources & Links:Barbara Benish's website: barbarabenish.comArtMill: A Story of Sustainable Creativity in Bohemia — published by New Village Press, distributed by NYUArt Heals All Wounds Podcast: arthealsallwoundspodcast.com

This week saw the first screening in Prague of the independent movie Wooden Hearts, which stars Vít Hořejš, founder of the Czechoslovak-American Marionette Theatre. The fiction film also features many of the traditional puppets that Hořejš – who left Czechoslovakia in the late 1970s – uncovered in an old Czech church in Manhattan several decades ago. He and his life partner Bonnie Stein, who produced Wooden Hearts and also appears in the charming picture, stopped by at our studios just ahead of the screening.

“I don't even know how I survived the days.” After surviving childhood trauma, domestic violence, and rebuilding her life in America from nothing, Zee Wilcox believed the hardest chapters were behind her — until a Texas family court judge removed her 7-year-old daughter without evidence. In this episode of the Starter Girlz Podcast, Jennifer Loehding sits down with American citizen, small business owner, mother of three, stepmother of five, and Texas House District 98 candidate Zee Wilcox for one of the most powerful conversations to date. Born and raised under communism in Czechoslovakia, Zee grew up in poverty as the oldest of six children, becoming a caregiver at just nine years old. At 21, she immigrated to the United States alone, barely speaking English, determined to build a better life. Years later, after leaving an abusive marriage, she found herself facing what she describes as a broken family court system — temporarily losing custody of her daughter in a ruling that was later fully overturned. What followed was not only a fight for her child, but a deeper reckoning with power, accountability, and the responsibility to use her voice. This episode explores resilience, generational trauma, domestic violence, judicial authority, and why embracing the start sometimes begins in your most painful chapter. WHAT YOU'LL LEARN IN THIS EPISODE How early trauma can quietly shape identity, strength, and survival instincts The emotional cost of growing up in silence around abuse and instability What resilience looks like when starting over in a new country alone How unresolved wounds can influence the relationships we choose What it feels like to face a system that holds power over your family The emotional reality of losing custody — and fighting to regain it How financial strain compounds emotional trauma in prolonged court battles Why transparency and accountability matter in positions of authority What it takes to move from personal crisis into public advocacy How embracing the start sometimes begins in your hardest chapter ABOUT ZEE WILCOX Zee Wilcox is an American citizen, wife, mother of three, stepmother of five, small business owner, community advocate, and candidate for Texas House District 98. Born and raised in communist Czechoslovakia, she immigrated to the United States at age 21 with little English and no safety net. Through perseverance and grit, she built a business, a family, and a life rooted in resilience. After experiencing what she believes are systemic failures within the Texas family court system — including temporarily losing custody of her daughter in a ruling that was later overturned — Zee became a vocal advocate for judicial accountability and reform. She is now running for office with a mission to protect families, defend parental rights, and bring transparency to systems that directly impact children. CHAPTERS 00:00 – Teaser: “I Don't Even Know How I Survived”01:00 – Podcast Welcome and Sponsor04:00 – Growing Up Under Communism09:00 – Childhood Trauma and Caregiving at Nine15:00 – Coming to America Alone20:00 – Learning to Survive in a New Country26:00 – Domestic Violence and Narcissistic Abuse32:00 – Leaving the Marriage40:00 – The TRO and Losing Custody46:00 – The Courtroom Experience55:00 – Filing the De Novo Appeal01:02:00 – Overturning the Ruling01:10:00 – Financial and Emotional Costs01:18:00 – Judicial Accountability01:25:00 – Running for Texas House District 98 CONNECT WITH ZEE WILCOX Websites: zeeforhd98.com and theintentionalstore.com CONNECT WITH STARTER GIRLZWebsite: startergirlz.comTake the 2-Minute Success Block QuizJoin the Community NewsletterWant to be a guest on Starter Girlz? Apply HERE

In this episode of Crossing Faiths, John speaks with Ambassador Robert Rehak, the Czech Republic's Special Envoy for the Holocaust, Interfaith Dialogue, and Freedom of Religion and Belief, about his extensive global efforts to protect marginalized communities and promote tolerance. The conversation creatively opens by comparing his human rights work to the Czech legend of Houska Castle—a fortress built to seal the gates of hell—before delving into his real-world responsibilities as the Chair of the International Religious Freedom or Belief Alliance. Ambassador Rehak shares compelling examples of his advocacy, including his efforts to free a Nigerian prisoner of conscience, unique social experiments dressing as different religious figures at soccer matches to combat Islamophobia, and organizing interfaith sports tournaments for Jewish and Muslim youth. They also discuss urgent global crises, such as the destruction of religious sites and oppression of minorities in Russian-occupied Ukraine, the systemic persecution of Uyghur Muslims in China, and the ongoing struggles in Syria. Drawing on his own poignant experiences growing up behind the Iron Curtain in communist Czechoslovakia and participating in the Velvet Revolution, Ambassador Rehak underscores his deep personal dedication to democracy and concludes with a hopeful call to action for everyday people to champion religious freedom and global unity. Robert Řehák, Ph.D. is Special Envoy for Holocaust, Interfaith Dialogue and Freedom of Religion, Czech career diplomat, Head of the Czech Delegation to the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA), Chair of the International Religious Freedom or Belief Alliance (IRFBA) or the Article 18 Alliance, published scholar of biblical proper names and the Dead Sea Scrolls, and official Hebrew interpreter. He studied at Charles University in Prague, Ruprecht-Karls-Universität in Heidelberg and Hebrew University in Jerusalem. As a researcher, he participates in several international research projects in the field of interfaith dialogue and sociology of religion. He is the initiator of the new Czech National Strategy of Combating anti-Semitism and co-ordinated the recent conference on the Terezín Declaration and the 2023 FoRB Ministerial in Prague. He is proficient in Czech, English, Hebrew, German and Russian, and reads classical Latin, Greek and Arabic. He lives in Prague with his wife and four children.

Shadow Politics with Senator Michael D. Brown and Co-host Liberty Jones Petula Dvorak, Ex Reporter for the Washinton Post - Struggle for DC Identity and the Decline of Local Truth This episode of Shadow Politics, dives into a deep-dive conversation between Michael D. Brown, Liberty Jones, and veteran columnist Petula Dvorak regarding the precarious state of Washington D.C. It explores the intersection of "taxation without representation," the systemic dismantling of local journalism at The Washington Post, and the alarming militarization of the nation's capital. The discussion serves as both a critique of current political narcissism and a plea for renewed civic engagement through historical and cultural understanding. The Cultural Erasure and Political Limbo of District Residents The District of Columbia remains in a state of "taxation without representation," a situation exacerbated by the impending retirement of long-time advocate Eleanor Holmes Norton and a Senate filibuster that blocks the path to statehood. Beyond the legal hurdles, there is a profound cultural disconnect; much of the nation views DC either as a "bureaucratic laboratory" or a "criminal hellscape" rather than a vibrant city where 700,000 people live, work, and raise families. This disrespect is felt practically, from DC licenses being rejected as "fake" in other states to the city being omitted from address menus on national websites. Dvorak suggests that a mandatory civic visit to DC should be part of the national core curriculum to bridge this "civics gap" and humanize the city beyond its political caricatures. The Erosion of Local Journalism at The Washington Post Dvorak details a "chilling" shift in the mission of The Washington Post, noting that the local reporting staff has been systematically whittled away. Despite a legacy of Pulitzer-winning local journalism—from Watergate to investigations into police force—the local desk has shrunk from a peak of 200 reporters across various bureaus to a mere 10 people today. The termination of local columnists in 2023, under the claim that they were "unsustainable," has severed the intimate, "front porch" relationship the paper once held with its readers. This decline in local oversight allows for the quiet dismantling of checks and balances within federal commissions and local governance, as there are fewer "reporters on the ground" to witness small but significant administrative shifts. Militarization and the Immigrant Perspective The conversation highlights a disturbing trend of militarization in DC, with the presence of National Guard and ICE agents evoking traumatic memories for immigrant communities. For those who fled dictatorships in countries like Brazil or the former Czechoslovakia, the sight of troops on the streets and "forced patriotism" feels like a "dimming of the American promise." This atmosphere is compounded by "clickbait politics," where extremist rhetoric and celebrity-style spectacle often overshadow substantive issues like humanitarian crises or local economic struggles. Gen Z, represented by Liberty Jones, views this landscape as an "adversarial" environment where attention is the only currency, making it increasingly difficult for young people to find stable career paths in a "consolidated" media and political world. The District of Columbia stands at a crossroads where its legal rights are stalled and its local narrative is being erased by a shrinking press. As national politics shifts toward "theatrics and stagecraft," the speakers emphasize that the only antidote to this erosion of truth and community is a combination of rigorous independent journalism, historical perspective, and a commitment to "leading with love" to keep hope alive for the next generation.

Shadow Politics with Senator Michael D. Brown and Co-host Liberty Jones Petula Dvorak, Ex Reporter for the Washinton Post - Struggle for DC Identity and the Decline of Local Truth This episode of Shadow Politics, dives into a deep-dive conversation between Michael D. Brown, Liberty Jones, and veteran columnist Petula Dvorak regarding the precarious state of Washington D.C. It explores the intersection of "taxation without representation," the systemic dismantling of local journalism at The Washington Post, and the alarming militarization of the nation's capital. The discussion serves as both a critique of current political narcissism and a plea for renewed civic engagement through historical and cultural understanding. The Cultural Erasure and Political Limbo of District Residents The District of Columbia remains in a state of "taxation without representation," a situation exacerbated by the impending retirement of long-time advocate Eleanor Holmes Norton and a Senate filibuster that blocks the path to statehood. Beyond the legal hurdles, there is a profound cultural disconnect; much of the nation views DC either as a "bureaucratic laboratory" or a "criminal hellscape" rather than a vibrant city where 700,000 people live, work, and raise families. This disrespect is felt practically, from DC licenses being rejected as "fake" in other states to the city being omitted from address menus on national websites. Dvorak suggests that a mandatory civic visit to DC should be part of the national core curriculum to bridge this "civics gap" and humanize the city beyond its political caricatures. The Erosion of Local Journalism at The Washington Post Dvorak details a "chilling" shift in the mission of The Washington Post, noting that the local reporting staff has been systematically whittled away. Despite a legacy of Pulitzer-winning local journalism—from Watergate to investigations into police force—the local desk has shrunk from a peak of 200 reporters across various bureaus to a mere 10 people today. The termination of local columnists in 2023, under the claim that they were "unsustainable," has severed the intimate, "front porch" relationship the paper once held with its readers. This decline in local oversight allows for the quiet dismantling of checks and balances within federal commissions and local governance, as there are fewer "reporters on the ground" to witness small but significant administrative shifts. Militarization and the Immigrant Perspective The conversation highlights a disturbing trend of militarization in DC, with the presence of National Guard and ICE agents evoking traumatic memories for immigrant communities. For those who fled dictatorships in countries like Brazil or the former Czechoslovakia, the sight of troops on the streets and "forced patriotism" feels like a "dimming of the American promise." This atmosphere is compounded by "clickbait politics," where extremist rhetoric and celebrity-style spectacle often overshadow substantive issues like humanitarian crises or local economic struggles. Gen Z, represented by Liberty Jones, views this landscape as an "adversarial" environment where attention is the only currency, making it increasingly difficult for young people to find stable career paths in a "consolidated" media and political world. The District of Columbia stands at a crossroads where its legal rights are stalled and its local narrative is being erased by a shrinking press. As national politics shifts toward "theatrics and stagecraft," the speakers emphasize that the only antidote to this erosion of truth and community is a combination of rigorous independent journalism, historical perspective, and a commitment to "leading with love" to keep hope alive for the next generation.

In 1952, the Summer Olympics took place at the height of the Cold War in Helsinki, Finland.Czechoslovak army officer Emil Zatopek achieved a unique feat in athletics and won three distance-running gold medals.This programme was first broadcast in 2016 with help from archive recordings.Eye-witness accounts brought to life by archive and testimony. Sporting Witness is for those fascinated by sporting history. We take you to the events that have shaped the sports world through the eyes of the people who were there. For nine minutes, you become a fan in the stands as we take you back in time to examine memorable victories and agonising defeats from all over the world. You'll hear from people who have achieved sporting immortality, or those who were there as incredible sporting moments unfolded.Recent episodes explore the forgotten football Women's World Cup, the plasterer who fought a boxing legend, international football's biggest ever beating and the man who swam the Amazon river. We look at the lives of some of the most famous F1 drivers, tennis players and athletes as well as people who've had ground-breaking impact in their chosen sporting field, including: the most decorated Paralympian, the woman who was the number 1 squash player in the world for nine years, and the first figure skater to wear a hijab. You can learn all about fascinating and surprising stories, such as the tennis player who escaped the Nazis, how a man finally beat a horse in a race, and how the FIFA computer game was created.(Photo: Emil Zapotek (number 903), of Czechoslovakia. Credit: Bettmann)

The British-Iranian comic on revolutions, Kensington, 9/11 jokes, King Charles and Iran's future.Omid Djalili has become one of the loudest voices in the Iranian diaspora calling for the overthrow of the regime in Tehran, in favour of US military action.While the world waits for Trump's next steps, Djalili talks to Nick about growing up in a hub of London's Iranian community, chasing history from Berlin to Czechoslovakia, deciding to perform in Saudi Arabia and turning down Game of ThronesProducers: Daniel Kraemer and Flora Murray Sound: Jack Wilfan Editor: Giles Edwards

Doug Kemsley encourages us to live out our faith with wisdom and conviction - seeing, judging and acting - using the example of Tomislav Kolakovič a Croatian Jesuit priest, whose underground work in Czechoslovakia during World War II helped the church survive totalitarian regimes.

Tonight Justin and Cameron are in Czechoslovakia as nazis are taking over and watching as the resistance fighters and the rest of the community do their best to push back against the goose stepping losers in Fritz Lang's Hangmen Also Die! Will ummm...well it's usually a will the movie be good or not with colorful metaphor but this one feels hard. Either way find out tonight on Cinema Roulette!Art by: https://tellersplace.tumblr.com/ Cinema Roulette Intro Song: "Rain Keeps Falling (Part 2)" by J.J. Vicars. Check him out! https://jjvicars.com/Follow us on BlueSky: Cinema Roulette: https://bsky.app/profile/cinemaroulette.bsky.socialJustin's Bsky: https://bsky.app/profile/jkpancake.bsky.social Cameron's Bsky: https://bsky.app/profile/camcammackert.bsky.socialFind all the other places you can stream or follow us here: https://linktr.ee/CinemaRoulette

Jitka Exler has enjoyed great success in the US, designing and making puppet characters for TV hits The Muppet Show and Sesame Street and working for major toy manufacturers. Exler had been forced to leave her native Czechoslovakia after signing the Charter 77 human rights document at the age of 19. The artist currently has a joint exhibition at the Czech Center New York.

Michael Clair, Senior Manager, Storytelling and Special Projects at MLB and author of “We Sacrifice Everything to Baseball”, talks Cubans in Czechoslovakia, the World Baseball Classic, and Writing Songs for The Subway Ghosts. Michael's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/michaelsclair/?hl=en Michael's Twitter: https://x.com/michaelsclair Michael's Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/michaelclair.bsky.social Michael's International Beat: https://t.co/QTPhfxXsnH The Subway Ghosts: https://thesubwayghosts.bandcamp.com/ Michael's Book: https://www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/nebraska/9781496242662/we-sacrifice-everything-to-baseball/ Last Call Baseball T-Shirts: https://last-call-baseball-shop.fourthwall.com/collections/all Last Call Baseball Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lastcallbaseball/ Last Call Baseball Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/lastcallbaseball.bsky.social Intro and Outro Music: DeCarlo Podcast Logo Artist Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/regan_vasconcellos/

Prague entered the First World War as the third city of the Habsburg empire, but emerged in 1918 as the capital of a brand new nation-state, Czechoslovakia. In Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920 (Cambridge UP, 2024), Dr. Claire Morelon explores what this transition looked, sounded and felt like at street level. Through deep archival research, she has carefully reconstructed the sensorial texture of the city, from the posters plastered on walls, to the shop windows' displays, the badges worn by passers-by, and the crowds gathering for protest or celebration. The result is both an atmospheric account of life amid war and regime change, and a fresh interpretation of imperial collapse from below, in which the experience of life on the Habsburg home-front is essential to understanding the post-Versailles world order that followed. Prague is the perfect case study for examining the transition from empire to nation-statehood, hinging on revolutionary dreams of fairer distribution and new forms of political participation. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Prague entered the First World War as the third city of the Habsburg empire, but emerged in 1918 as the capital of a brand new nation-state, Czechoslovakia. In Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920 (Cambridge UP, 2024), Dr. Claire Morelon explores what this transition looked, sounded and felt like at street level. Through deep archival research, she has carefully reconstructed the sensorial texture of the city, from the posters plastered on walls, to the shop windows' displays, the badges worn by passers-by, and the crowds gathering for protest or celebration. The result is both an atmospheric account of life amid war and regime change, and a fresh interpretation of imperial collapse from below, in which the experience of life on the Habsburg home-front is essential to understanding the post-Versailles world order that followed. Prague is the perfect case study for examining the transition from empire to nation-statehood, hinging on revolutionary dreams of fairer distribution and new forms of political participation. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

Prague entered the First World War as the third city of the Habsburg empire, but emerged in 1918 as the capital of a brand new nation-state, Czechoslovakia. In Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920 (Cambridge UP, 2024), Dr. Claire Morelon explores what this transition looked, sounded and felt like at street level. Through deep archival research, she has carefully reconstructed the sensorial texture of the city, from the posters plastered on walls, to the shop windows' displays, the badges worn by passers-by, and the crowds gathering for protest or celebration. The result is both an atmospheric account of life amid war and regime change, and a fresh interpretation of imperial collapse from below, in which the experience of life on the Habsburg home-front is essential to understanding the post-Versailles world order that followed. Prague is the perfect case study for examining the transition from empire to nation-statehood, hinging on revolutionary dreams of fairer distribution and new forms of political participation. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/military-history

Prague entered the First World War as the third city of the Habsburg empire, but emerged in 1918 as the capital of a brand new nation-state, Czechoslovakia. In Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920 (Cambridge UP, 2024), Dr. Claire Morelon explores what this transition looked, sounded and felt like at street level. Through deep archival research, she has carefully reconstructed the sensorial texture of the city, from the posters plastered on walls, to the shop windows' displays, the badges worn by passers-by, and the crowds gathering for protest or celebration. The result is both an atmospheric account of life amid war and regime change, and a fresh interpretation of imperial collapse from below, in which the experience of life on the Habsburg home-front is essential to understanding the post-Versailles world order that followed. Prague is the perfect case study for examining the transition from empire to nation-statehood, hinging on revolutionary dreams of fairer distribution and new forms of political participation. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/anthropology

Prague entered the First World War as the third city of the Habsburg empire, but emerged in 1918 as the capital of a brand new nation-state, Czechoslovakia. In Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920 (Cambridge UP, 2024), Dr. Claire Morelon explores what this transition looked, sounded and felt like at street level. Through deep archival research, she has carefully reconstructed the sensorial texture of the city, from the posters plastered on walls, to the shop windows' displays, the badges worn by passers-by, and the crowds gathering for protest or celebration. The result is both an atmospheric account of life amid war and regime change, and a fresh interpretation of imperial collapse from below, in which the experience of life on the Habsburg home-front is essential to understanding the post-Versailles world order that followed. Prague is the perfect case study for examining the transition from empire to nation-statehood, hinging on revolutionary dreams of fairer distribution and new forms of political participation. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/eastern-european-studies

Prague entered the First World War as the third city of the Habsburg empire, but emerged in 1918 as the capital of a brand new nation-state, Czechoslovakia. In Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920 (Cambridge UP, 2024), Dr. Claire Morelon explores what this transition looked, sounded and felt like at street level. Through deep archival research, she has carefully reconstructed the sensorial texture of the city, from the posters plastered on walls, to the shop windows' displays, the badges worn by passers-by, and the crowds gathering for protest or celebration. The result is both an atmospheric account of life amid war and regime change, and a fresh interpretation of imperial collapse from below, in which the experience of life on the Habsburg home-front is essential to understanding the post-Versailles world order that followed. Prague is the perfect case study for examining the transition from empire to nation-statehood, hinging on revolutionary dreams of fairer distribution and new forms of political participation. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts.

Prague entered the First World War as the third city of the Habsburg empire, but emerged in 1918 as the capital of a brand new nation-state, Czechoslovakia. In Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920 (Cambridge UP, 2024), Dr. Claire Morelon explores what this transition looked, sounded and felt like at street level. Through deep archival research, she has carefully reconstructed the sensorial texture of the city, from the posters plastered on walls, to the shop windows' displays, the badges worn by passers-by, and the crowds gathering for protest or celebration. The result is both an atmospheric account of life amid war and regime change, and a fresh interpretation of imperial collapse from below, in which the experience of life on the Habsburg home-front is essential to understanding the post-Versailles world order that followed. Prague is the perfect case study for examining the transition from empire to nation-statehood, hinging on revolutionary dreams of fairer distribution and new forms of political participation. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Last time we spoke about The Battle of Suixian–Zaoyang-Shatow. Following the brutal 1938 capture of Wuhan, Japanese forces aimed to solidify their hold by launching an offensive against Chinese troops in the 5th War Zone, a rugged natural fortress in northern Hubei and southern Henan. Under General Yasuji Okamura, the 11th Army deployed three divisions and cavalry in a pincer assault starting May 1, 1939, targeting Suixian and Zaoyang to crush Nationalist resistance and secure flanks. Chinese commander Li Zongren, leveraging terrain like the Dabie and Tongbai Mountains, orchestrated defenses with over 200,000 troops, including Tang Enbo's 31st Army Group. By May 23, they recaptured Suixian and Zaoyang, forcing a Japanese withdrawal with heavy losses, over 13,000 Japanese casualties versus 25,000 Chinese, restoring pre-battle lines. Shifting south, Japan targeted Shantou in Guangdong to sever supply lines from Hong Kong. In a massive June 21 amphibious assault, the 21st Army overwhelmed thin Chinese defenses, capturing the port and Chao'an despite guerrilla resistance led by Zhang Fakui. Though losses mounted, Japan tightened its blockade, straining China's war effort amid ongoing attrition.   #188 From Changkufeng to Nomonhan Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Well hello again, and yes you all have probably guessed we are taking another detour. Do not worry I hope to shorten this one a bit more so than what became a sort of mini series on the battle of Changkufeng or Battle of Lake Khasan. What we are about to jump into is known in the west as the battle of khalkin Gol, by the Japanese the Nomohan incident. But first I need to sort of set the table up so to say. So back on August 10th, 1938 the Litvinov-Shigemitsu agreement established a joint border commission tasked with redemarcating the disputed boundary between the Soviet Union and Japanese-controlled Manchukuo. However, this commission never achieved a mutually agreeable definition of the border in the contested area. In reality, the outcome was decided well before the group's inaugural meeting. Mere hours after the cease-fire took effect on the afternoon of August 11, General Grigory Shtern convened with a regimental commander from Japan's 19th Division to coordinate the disengagement of forces. With the conflict deemed "honorably" concluded, Japan's Imperial General Headquarters mandated the swift withdrawal of all Japanese troops to the west bank of the Tumen River. By the night of August 13, as the final Japanese soldier crossed the river, it effectively became the de facto border. Soviet forces promptly reoccupied Changkufeng Hill and the adjacent heights—a move that would carry unexpected and profound repercussions. Authoritative Japanese military analyses suggest that if negotiations in Moscow had dragged on for just one more day, the 19th Division would likely have been dislodged from Changkufeng and its surrounding elevations. Undoubtedly, General Shtern's infantry breathed a sigh of relief as the bloodshed ceased. Yet, one can't help but question why Moscow opted for a cease-fire at a juncture when Soviet troops were on the cusp of total battlefield triumph. Perhaps Kremlin leaders deemed it wiser to settle for a substantial gain, roughly three-quarters of their objectives, rather than risk everything. After all, Japan had mobilized threatening forces in eastern Manchuria, and the Imperial Army had a history of impulsive, unpredictable aggression. Moreover, amid the escalating crisis over Czechoslovakia, Moscow may have been wary of provoking a broader Asian conflict. Another theory posits that Soviet high command was misinformed about the ground situation. Reports of capturing a small segment of Changkufeng's crest might have been misinterpreted as control over the entire ridge, or an imminent full takeover before midnight on August 10. The unexpected phone call from Foreign Minister Maxim Litvinov to the Japanese embassy that night—proposing a one-kilometer Japanese retreat in exchange for a cease-fire along existing lines—hints at communication breakdowns between Shtern's headquarters and the Kremlin. Ironically, such lapses may have preserved Japanese military honor, allowing the 19th Division's evacuation through diplomacy rather than defeat. Both sides endured severe losses. Initial Japanese press reports claimed 158 killed and 740 wounded. However, the 19th Division's medical logs reveal a grimmer toll: 526 dead and 914 injured, totaling 1,440 casualties. The true figure may have climbed higher, possibly to 1,500–2,000. Following the armistice, the Soviet news agency TASS reported 236 Red Army fatalities and 611 wounded. Given Shtern's uphill assaults across open terrain against entrenched positions, these numbers seem understated. Attackers in such scenarios typically suffered two to three times the defenders' losses, suggesting Soviet casualties ranged from 3,000 to 5,000. This aligns with a Soviet Military Council investigation on August 31, 1938, which documented 408 killed and 2,807 wounded. Japanese estimates placed Soviet losses even higher, at 4,500–7,000. Not all victims perished in combat. Marshal Vasily Blyukher, a decorated Soviet commander, former warlord of the Far East, and Central Committee candidate, was summoned to Moscow in August 1938. Relieved of duty in September and arrested with his family in October, he faced charges of inadequate preparation against Japanese aggression and harboring "enemies of the people" within his ranks. On November 9, 1938, Blyukher died during interrogation a euphemism for torture-induced death.Other innocents suffered as well. In the wake of the fighting, Soviet authorities deported hundreds of thousands of Korean rice farmers from the Ussuri region to Kazakhstan, aiming to eradicate Korean settlements that Japanese spies had allegedly exploited. The Changkufeng clash indirectly hampered Japan's Wuhan offensive, a massive push to subdue China. The influx of troops and supplies for this campaign was briefly disrupted by the border flare-up. Notably, Kwantung Army's 2nd Air Group, slated for Wuhan, was retained due to the Soviet threat. Chiang Kai-shek's drastic measure, breaching the Yellow River dikes to flood Japanese advance routes—further delayed the assault. By October 25, 1938, when Japanese forces captured Hankow, Chiang had relocated his capital to distant Chungking. Paradoxically, Wuhan's fall cut rail links from Canton inland, heightening Chiang's reliance on Soviet aid routed overland and by air from Central Asia. Japan secured a tactical win but missed the decisive blow; Chinese resistance persisted, pinning down a million Japanese troops in occupation duties. What was the true significance of Changkufeng? For General Koiso Suetaka and the 19th Division, it evoked a mix of bitterness and pride. Those eager for combat got their share, though not on their terms. To veterans mourning fallen comrades on those desolate slopes, it might have felt like senseless tragedy. Yet, they fought valiantly under dire conditions, holding firm until a retreat that blended humiliation with imperial praise, a bittersweet inheritance. For the Red Army, it marked a crucial trial of resolve amid Stalin's purges. While Shtern's forces didn't shine brilliantly, they acquitted themselves well in adversity. The U.S. military attaché in Moscow observed that any purge-related inefficiencies had been surmounted, praising the Red Army's valor, reliability, and equipment. His counterpart in China, Colonel Joseph Stilwell, put it bluntly: the Soviets "appeared to advantage," urging skeptics to rethink notions of a weakened Red Army. Yet, by World War II's eve, many British, French, German, and Japanese leaders still dismissed it as a "paper tiger." Soviet leaders appeared content, promoting Shtern to command the Transbaikal Military District and colonel general by 1940, while honoring "Heroes of Lake Khasan" with medals. In a fiery November 7, 1938, speech, Marshal Kliment Voroshilov warned that future incursions would prompt strikes deep into enemy territory. Tokyo's views diverged sharply. Many in the military and government saw it as a stain on Imperial Army prestige, especially Kwantung Army, humiliated on Manchukuo soil it swore to protect. Colonel Masanobu Tsuji Inada, however, framed it as a successful reconnaissance, confirming Soviet border defense without broader aggression, allowing the Wuhan push to proceed safely. Critics, including Major General Gun Hashimoto and historians, questioned this. They argued IGHQ lacked contingency plans for a massive Soviet response, especially with Wuhan preparations underway since June. One expert warned Japan had "played with fire," risking Manchuria and Korea if escalation occurred. Yet, Japanese commanders gleaned few lessons, downplaying Soviet materiel superiority and maintaining disdain for Red Army prowess. The 19th Division's stand against outnumbered odds reinforced this hubris, as did tolerance for local insubordination—attitudes that would prove costly. The Kremlin, conversely, learned Japan remained unpredictable despite its China quagmire. But for Emperor Hirohito's intervention, the conflict might have ballooned. Amid purges and the Czech crisis, Stalin likely viewed it as a reminder of eastern vulnerabilities, especially with Munich advancing German threats westward. Both sides toyed with peril. Moderation won in Tokyo, but Kwantung Army seethed. On August 11, Premier Fumimaro Konoye noted the need for caution. Kwantung, however, pushed for and secured control of the disputed salient from Chosen Army by October 8, 1938. Even winter's chill couldn't quench their vengeful fire, setting the stage for future confrontations. A quick look at the regional map reveals how Manchukuo and the Mongolian People's Republic each jut into the other's territory like protruding salients. These bulges could be seen as aggressive thrusts into enemy land, yet they also risked encirclement and absorption by the opposing empire. A northward push from western Manchuria through Mongolia could sever the MPR and Soviet Far East from the USSR's heartland. Conversely, a pincer movement from Mongolia and the Soviet Maritime Province might envelop and isolate Manchukuo. This dynamic highlights the frontier's strategic volatility in the 1930s. One particularly tense sector was the broad Mongolian salient extending about 150 miles eastward into west-central Manchukuo. There, in mid-1939, Soviet-Japanese tensions erupted into major combat. Known to the Japanese as the Nomonhan Incident and to the Soviets and Mongolians as the Battle of Khalkhin Gol, this clash dwarfed the earlier Changkufeng affair in scale, duration, and impact. Spanning four months and claiming 30,000 to 50,000 casualties, it amounted to a small undeclared war, the modern era's first limited conflict between great powers. The Mongolian salient features vast, semiarid plains of sandy grassland, gently rolling terrain dotted with sparse scrub pines and low shrubs. The climate is unforgivingly continental: May brings hot days and freezing nights, while July and August see daytime highs exceeding 38°C (100°F in American units), with cool evenings. Swarms of mosquitoes and massive horseflies necessitate netting in summer. Rainfall is scarce, but dense morning fogs are common in August. Come September, temperatures plummet, with heavy snows by October and midwinter lows dipping to –34°C. This blend of North African aridity and North Dakotan winters supports only sparse populations, mainly two related but distinct Mongol tribes. The Buriat (or Barga) Mongols migrated into the Nomonhan area from the northwest in the late 17th to early 18th centuries, likely fleeing Russian expansion after the 1689 Treaty of Nerchinsk. Organized by Manchu emperors between 1732 and 1735, they settled east of the river they called Khalkhin Gol (Mongolian for "river"), in lands that would later become Manchukuo. The Khalkha Mongols, named for the word meaning "barrier" or "shield," traditionally guarded the Mongol Empire's northern frontiers. Their territories lay west of the Buriats, in what would become the MPR. For centuries, these tribes herded livestock across sands, river crossings, and desert paths, largely oblivious to any formal borders. For hundreds of years, the line dividing the Mongolian salient from western Manchuria was a hazy administrative divide within the Qing Empire. In the 20th century, Russia's detachment of Outer Mongolia and Japan's seizure of Manchuria transformed this vague boundary into a frontline between rival powers. The Nomonhan Incident ignited over this contested border. Near the salient's northeastern edge, the river, called Khalkhin Gol by Mongols and Soviets, and Halha by Manchurians and Japanese, flows northwest into Lake Buir Nor. The core dispute: Was the river, as Japan asserted, the historic boundary between Manchukuo and the MPR? Soviet and MPR officials insisted the line ran parallel to and 10–12 miles east of the river, claiming the intervening strip. Japan cited no fewer than 18 maps, from Chinese and Japanese sources, to support the river as the border, a logical choice in such barren terrain, where it served as the sole natural divider. Yet, Soviets and Mongolians countered with evidence like a 1919 Chinese postal atlas and maps from Japanese and Manchukuoan agencies (1919–1934). Unbeknownst to combatants, in July 1939, China's military attaché in Moscow shared a 1934 General Staff map with his American counterpart, showing the border east of the river. Postwar Japanese studies of 18th-century Chinese records confirm that in 1734, the Qing emperor set a boundary between Buriat and Khalkha Mongols east of the river, passing through the hamlet of Nomonhan—as the Soviets claimed. However, Kwantung Army Headquarters dismissed this as non-binding, viewing it as an internal Qing affair without Russian involvement. Two former Kwantung Army officers offer a pragmatic explanation: From 1931 to 1935, when Soviet forces in the Far East were weak, Japanese and Manchukuoan authorities imposed the river as the de facto border, with MPR acquiescence. By the mid- to late 1930s, as Soviet strength grew, Japan refused to yield, while Mongolians and Soviets rejected the river line, sparking clashes. In 1935, Kwantung Army revised its maps to align with the river claim. From late that year, the Lake Buir Nor–Halha sector saw frequent skirmishes between Manchukuoan and MPR patrols. Until mid-1938, frontier defense in northwestern Manchukuo fell to the 8th Border Garrison Unit , based near Hailar. This 7,000-man force, spread thin, lacked mobility, training, and, in Kwantung Army's eyes, combat readiness. That summer, the newly formed 23rd Division, under Kwantung Army, took station at Hailar, absorbing the 8th BGU under its command, led by Lieutenant General Michitaro Komatsubara. At 52, Komatsubara was a premier Russian specialist in the Imperial Army, with stints as military attaché in the USSR and head of Kwantung's Special Services Agency in Harbin. Standing 5'7" with a sturdy build, glasses, and a small mustache, he was detail-oriented, keeping meticulous diaries, writing lengthy letters, and composing poetry, though he lacked combat experience. Before departing Tokyo in July 1938, Komatsubara received briefings from Colonel Masazumi Inada, AGS Operations Section chief. Amid planning for Changkufeng, Inada urged calm on the Manchukuo-MPR border given China's ongoing campaigns. Guidelines: Ignore minor incidents, prioritize intelligence on Soviet forces east of Lake Baikal, and study operations against the Soviet Far East's western sector. Familiar with the region from his Harbin days, Komatsubara adopted a low-key approach. Neither impulsive nor aggressive, he kept the green 23rd Division near Hailar, delegating patrols to the 8th BGU. An autumn incident underscores his restraint. On November 1, 1938, an 8th BGU patrol was ambushed by MPR forces. Per Japanese accounts, the three-man team, led by a lieutenant, strayed too close to the border and was attacked 50 meters inside Manchukuo. The lieutenant escaped, but his men died. Komatsubara sent an infantry company to secure the site but forbade retaliation. He pursued body recovery diplomatically, protested to MPR and Soviet officials, and disciplined his officers: garrison leaders got five days' confinement for poor troop training, the lieutenant thirty days. Despite this caution, pressures at AGS and KwAHQ were mounting, poised to thrust the 23rd Division into fierce battle. Modern militaries routinely develop contingency plans against potential adversaries, and the mere existence of such strategies doesn't inherently signal aggressive intentions. That said, shifts in Japan's operational planning vis-à-vis the Soviet Union may have inadvertently fueled the Nomonhan Incident. From 1934 to 1938, Japanese war scenarios emphasized a massive surprise assault in the Ussuri River region, paired with defensive holding actions in northwestern Manchuria. However, between mid-1938 and early 1939, a clandestine joint task force from the Army General Staff  and Kwantung Army's Operations Departments crafted a bold new blueprint. This revised strategy proposed containing Soviet forces in the east and north while unleashing a full-scale offensive from Hailar, advancing west-northwest toward Chita and ultimately Lake Baikal. The goal: sever the Transbaikal Soviet Far East from the USSR's core. Dubbed Plan Eight-B, it gained Kwantung Army's endorsement in March 1939. Key architects—Colonels Takushiro Hattori and Masao Terada, along with Major Takeharu Shimanuki—were reassigned from AGS to Kwantung Army Headquarters to oversee implementation. The plan anticipated a five-year buildup before execution, with Hattori assuming the role of chief operations staff officer.  A map review exposes a glaring vulnerability in Plan Eight-B: the Japanese advance would leave its southern flank exposed to Soviet counterstrikes from the Mongolian salient. By spring 1939, KwAHQ likely began perceiving this protrusion as a strategic liability. Notably, at the outbreak of Nomonhan hostilities, no detailed operational contingencies for the area had been formalized. Concurrently, Japan initiated plans for a vital railroad linking Harlun Arshan to Hailar. While its direct tie to Plan Eight-B remains unclear, the route skirted perilously close to the Halha River, potentially heightening KwAHQ's focus on the disputed Mongolian salient. In early 1939, the 23rd Division intensified reconnaissance patrols near the river. Around this time, General Grigory Shtern, freshly appointed commander of Soviet Far Eastern forces, issued a public warning that Japan was gearing up for an assault on the Mongolian People's Republic. As Plan Eight-B took shape and railroad proposals advanced, KwAHQ issued a strikingly confrontational set of guidelines for frontier troops. These directives are often cited as a catalyst for the Nomonhan clash, forging a chain linking the 1937 Amur River incident, the 1938 Changkufeng debacle, and the 1939 conflict.Resentment had festered at KwAHQ over perceived AGS meddling during the Amur affair, which curtailed their command autonomy. This frustration intensified at Changkufeng, where General Kamezo Suetaka's 19th Division endured heavy losses, only for the contested Manchukuoan territory to be effectively ceded. Kwantung Army lobbied successfully to wrest oversight of the Changkufeng salient from Chosen Army. In November 1938, Major Masanobu Tsuji of KwAHQ's Operations Section was sent to survey the site. The audacious officer was dismayed: Soviet forces dominated the land from the disputed ridge to the Tumen River. Tsuji undertook several winter reconnaissance missions. His final outing in March 1939 involved leading 40 men to Changkufeng's base. With rifles slung non-threateningly, they ascended to within 200 yards of Soviet lines, formed a line, and urinated in unison, eliciting amused reactions from the enemy. They then picnicked with obentos and sake, sang army tunes, and left gifts of canned meat, chocolates, and whiskey. This theatrical stunt concealed Tsuji's real aim: covert photography proving Soviet fortifications encroached on Manchukuoan soil. Tsuji was a singular figure. Born of modest means, he embodied a modern samurai ethos, channeling a sharp intellect into a frail, often ailing body through feats of extraordinary daring. A creative tactician, he thrived in intelligence ops, political scheming, aerial scouting, planning, and frontline command—excelling across a tumultuous career. Yet, flaws marred his brilliance: narrow bigotry, virulent racism, and capacity for cruelty. Ever the ambitious outsider, Tsuji wielded outsized influence via gekokujo—Japan's tradition of subordinates steering policy from below. In 1939, he was a major, but his pivotal role at Nomonhan stemmed from this dynamic. Back in Hsinking after his Changkufeng escapade, Tsuji drafted a response plan: negotiate border "rectification" with the Soviets; if talks failed, launch an attack to expel intruders. Kwantung Army adopted it. Deputy Chief of Staff Major General Otozaburo Yano flew to Tokyo with Tsuji's photos, seeking AGS approval. There, he was rebuffed—Changkufeng was deemed settled, and minor violations should be overlooked amid Tokyo's aversion to Soviet conflict. Yano's plea that leniency would invite aggression was countered by notes on Europe's tensions restraining Moscow. Yano's return sparked outrage at KwAHQ, seen as AGS thwarting their imperial duty to safeguard Manchukuo. Fury peaked in the Operations Section, setting the stage for Tsuji's drafting of stringent new frontier guidelines: "Principles for the Settlement of Soviet-Manchukuoan Border Disputes." The core tenet: "If Soviet troops transgress the Manchukuoan frontiers, Kwantung Army will nip their ambitions in the bud by completely destroying them." Specific directives for local commanders included: "If the enemy crosses the frontiers … annihilate him without delay, employing strength carefully built up beforehand. To accomplish our mission, it is permissible to enter Soviet territory, or to trap or lure Soviet troops into Manchukuoan territory and allow them to remain there for some time… . Where boundary lines are not clearly defined, area defense commanders will, upon their own initiative, establish boundaries and indicate them to the forward elements… . In the event of an armed clash, fight until victory is won, regardless of relative strengths or of the location of the boundaries. If the enemy violates the borders, friendly units must challenge him courageously and endeavor to triumph in their zone of action without concerning themselves about the consequences, which will be the responsibility of higher headquarters." Major Tsuji Masanobu later justified the new guidelines by pointing to the "contradictory orders" that had hamstrung frontier commanders under the old rules. They were tasked with upholding Manchukuo's territorial integrity yet forbidden from actions that might spark conflict. This, Tsuji argued, bred hesitation, as officers feared repercussions for decisive responses to incursions. The updated directives aimed to alleviate this "anxiety," empowering local leaders to act boldly without personal liability. In truth, Tsuji's "Principles for the Settlement of Soviet-Manchukuoan Border Disputes" were more incendiary than conciliatory. They introduced provocative measures: authorizing commanders to unilaterally define unclear boundaries, enforce them with immediate force "shoot first, ask questions later", permit pursuits into enemy territory, and even encourage luring adversaries across the line. Such tactics flouted both government policy and official army doctrine, prioritizing escalation over restraint. The proposals sparked intense debate within Kwantung Army's Operations Section. Section chief Colonel Takushiro Hattori and Colonel Masao Terada outranked Tsuji, as did Major Takeharu Shimanuki, all recent transfers from the Army General Staff. Tsuji, however, boasted longer tenure at Kwantung Army Headquarters since April 1936 and in Operations since November 1937, making him the de facto veteran. Hattori and Terada hesitated to challenge the assertive major, whose reputation for intellect, persuasion, and deep knowledge of Manchuria commanded respect. In a 1960 interview, Shimanuki recalled Tsuji's dominance in discussions, where his proactive ideas often swayed the group. Unified, the section forwarded Tsuji's plan to Kwantung Army Command. Commander Lieutenant General Kenkichi Ueda consulted Chief of Staff General Rensuke Isogai and Vice Chief General Otozaburo Yano, seasoned leaders who should have spotted the guidelines' volatility. Yet, lingering grudges from AGS "interference" in past incidents like the Amur River and Changkufeng clouded their judgment. Ueda, Isogai, and Tsuji shared history from the 1932 Shanghai Incident: Tsuji, then a captain, led a company in the 7th Regiment under Colonel Isogai, with Yano as staff officer and Ueda commanding the 9th Division. Tsuji was wounded there, forging bonds of camaraderie. This "clique," which grew to include Hattori, Terada, and Shimanuki, amplified Tsuji's influence. Despite Isogai's initial reservations as the group's moderate voice, the guidelines won approval. Ueda issued them as Kwantung Army Operations Order 1488 on April 25, 1939, during a division commanders' conference at KwAHQ. A routine copy reached AGS in Tokyo, but no formal reply came. Preoccupied with the China War and alliance talks with Germany, AGS may have overlooked border matters. Colonel Masazumi Inada, AGS Operations head, later noted basic acceptance of Order 1488, with an informal expectation—relayed to Hattori and Terada—of prior consultation on violations. KwAHQ dismissed this as another Tokyo intrusion on their autonomy. Some Japanese analysts contend a stern AGS rejection might have prevented Nomonhan's catastrophe, though quelling Kwantung's defiance could have required mass staff reassignments, a disruptive step AGS avoided. Tsuji countered that permitting forceful action at Changkufeng would have deterred Nomonhan altogether, underscoring the interconnectedness of these clashes while implicitly critiquing the 1939 battle's location. Undeniably, Order 1488's issuance on April 25 paved the way for conflict three weeks later. Japanese records confirm that Khalkha Mongols and MPR patrols routinely crossed the Halha River—viewed by them as internal territory, 10 miles from the true border. Such crossings passed uneventfully in March and April 1939. Post-Order 1488, however, 23rd Division commander General Michitaro Komatsubara responded aggressively, setting the stage for escalation. The Nomonhan Incident ignited with a border clash on May 11–12, 1939, that rapidly spiraled into a major conflict. Over a dozen "authoritative" accounts exist, varying in viewpoint, focus, and specifics. After cross-referencing these sources, a coherent timeline emerges. On the night of May 10–11, a 20-man Mongolian People's Republic border patrol crossed eastward over the Halha River (known as Khalkhin Gol to Mongols and Soviets). About 10 miles east, atop a 150-foot sandy hill, lay the tiny hamlet of Nomonhan, a cluster of crude huts housing a few Mongol families. Just south flowed the Holsten River, merging westward into the broader Halha. By morning on May 11, Manchukuoan forces spotted the MPR patrol north of the Holsten and west of Nomonhan. In the MPR/Soviet perspective, Nomonhan Hill marked the Mongolia-Manchuria border. To Manchukuoans and Japanese, it sat 10 miles inside Manchukuo, well east of the Halha. A 40-man Manchukuoan cavalry unit repelled the Mongolians back across the river, inflicting initial casualties on both sides—the Manchukuoans drawing first blood. The MPR patrol leader exaggerated the attackers as 200 strong. The next day, May 12, a 60-man MPR force under Major P. Chogdan evicted the Manchukuoans from the disputed zone, reestablishing positions between the Halha and Nomonhan. The Manchukuoans, in turn, reported facing 700 enemies. Sporadic skirmishes and maneuvering persisted through the week. On May 13, two days post-clash, the local Manchukuoan commander alerted General Michitaro Komatsubara's 23rd Division headquarters in Hailar. Simultaneously, Major Chogdan reported to Soviet military command in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia's capital. What began as a Mongolian-Manchukuoan spat was poised to draw in Soviet and Japanese patrons. Attributing the May 10–11 violation hinges on border interpretations: both sides claimed the Halha-Nomonhan strip. Yet, most accounts concur that Manchukuoan forces initiated the fighting. Post-May 13 notifications to Moscow and Tokyo clarify the record thereafter. Midday on May 13, Komatsubara was leading a staff conference on the newly issued Kwantung Army Operations Order 1488—Major Tsuji Masanobu's aggressive border guidelines. Ironically, the first Nomonhan combat report arrived mid-discussion. Officers present recall Komatsubara deciding instantly to "destroy the invading Outer Mongolian forces" per Order 1488. That afternoon, he informed Kwantung Army Headquarters of the incident and his intent to eradicate the intruders, requesting air support and trucks. General Kenkichi Ueda, Kwantung commander, approved Komatsubara's "positive attitude," dispatching six scout planes, 40 fighters, 10 light bombers, two anti-aircraft batteries, and two motorized transport companies. Ueda added a caveat: exercise "extreme caution" to prevent escalation—a paradoxical blend of destruction and restraint, reflective of KwAHQ's fervent mood. Ueda relayed the details to Tokyo's Army General Staff, which responded that Kwantung should handle it "appropriately." Despite Kwantung's impulsive reputation, Tokyo deferred, perhaps trusting the northern strategic imbalance, eight Japanese divisions versus 30 Soviet ones from Lake Baikal to Vladivostok, would enforce prudence. This faith proved misguided. On May 14, Major Tsuji flew from KwAHQ for aerial reconnaissance over Nomonhan, spotting 20 horses but no troops. Upon landing, a fresh bullet hole in his plane confirmed lingering MPR presence east of the Halha. Tsuji briefed 23rd Division staff and reported to Ueda that the incident seemed minor. Aligning with Order 1488's spirit, Komatsubara deployed a force under Lieutenant Colonel Yaozo Azuma: an armored car company, two infantry companies, and a cavalry troop. Arriving at Nomonhan on May 15, Azuma learned most MPR forces had retreated westward across the Halha the prior night, with only token elements remaining, and those withdrawing. Undeterred, he pursued. The advance met scant resistance, as foes had crossed the river. However, Japanese light bombers struck a small MPR concentration on the west bank, Outpost Number 7, killing two and wounding 15 per MPR reports; Japanese claimed 30–40 kills. All agree: the raid targeted undisputed MPR territory. Hearing of May 15's events, Komatsubara deemed the Mongolians sufficiently rebuked and recalled Azuma to Hailar on May 16. KwAHQ concurred, closing the matter. Soviet leaders, however, saw it differently. Mid-May prompted Soviet support for the MPR under their 1936 Mutual Defense Pact. The Red Army's 57th Corps, stationed in Mongolia, faced initial disarray: Commander Nikolai Feklenko was hunting, Chief of Staff A. M. Kushchev in Ulan Ude with his ill wife. Moscow learned of clashes via international press from Japanese sources, sparking Chief of Staff Boris Shaposhnikov's furious inquiry. Feklenko and Kushchev rushed back to Ulaanbaatar, dispatching a mixed force—a battalion from the 149th Infantry Regiment (36th Division), plus light armor and artillery from the 11th Tank Brigade—to Tamsag Bulak, 80 miles west of the Halha. Led by Major A. E. Bykov, it bolstered the MPR's 6th Cavalry Division. Bykov and Cavalry Commander Colonel Shoaaiibuu inspected the site on May 15, post-Azum's departure. The cavalry arrived two days later, backed by Bykov (ordered to remain west of the river and avoid combat if possible). Some MPR troops recrossed, occupying the disputed zone. Clashes with Manchukuoan cavalry resumed and intensified. Notified of renewed hostilities, Komatsubara viewed it as defiance, a personal affront. Emboldened by Order 1488, he aimed not just to repel but to encircle and annihilate. The incident was on the verge of major expansion. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The ghosts of the Changufeng incident have come back to haunt both the USSR and Japan. Those like Tsuji Masanobu instigated yet another border clash that would erupt into a full blown battle that would set a precedent for both nations until the very end of WW2. 

As you might remember from episode 124, which was about the Allied victory in Europe, Germany was basically cut in half by the invading Soviets in the East, and the Allies in the West.  The Soviets had captured Berlin, and they had also occupied the eastern part of Germany.  But they also had occupied all of eastern Europe, including Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Romania, Yugoslavia, Albania, Bulgaria, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia.  And they had no intention of giving those countries up.  

A sweeping history of the violence perpetrated by governments committed to extreme forms of secularism in the twentieth centuryA popular truism derived from the Enlightenment holds that violence is somehow inherent to religion, to which political secularism offers a liberating solution. But this assumption ignores a glaring modern reality: that putatively progressive regimes committed to secularism have possessed just as much and often a vastly greater capacity for violence as those tied to a religious identity. In Broken Altars, Thomas Albert Howard presents a powerful account of the misery, deaths, and destruction visited on religious communities by secularist regimes in the twentieth century.Presenting three principal forms of modern secularism that have arisen since the Enlightenment—passive secularism, combative secularism, and eliminationist secularism—Howard argues that the latter two have been especially violence-prone. Westerners do not fully grasp this, however, because they often mistake the first form, passive secularism, for secularism as a whole. But a disconcertingly more complicated picture emerges with the adoption of a broader global vision. Admitting different species of secularism, greater historical perspective, and case studies drawn from the former Soviet Union, Turkey, Mexico, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Albania, Mongolia, and China, among other countries, Howard calls into question the conventional tale of modernity as the pacifying triumph of secularism over a benighted religious past. Thomas Albert Howard is professor of humanities and history and holder of the Phyllis and Richard Duesenberg Chair in Christian Ethics at Valparaiso University. He is the author of many books, including The Faiths of Others: A History of Interreligious Dialogue. Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

A sweeping history of the violence perpetrated by governments committed to extreme forms of secularism in the twentieth centuryA popular truism derived from the Enlightenment holds that violence is somehow inherent to religion, to which political secularism offers a liberating solution. But this assumption ignores a glaring modern reality: that putatively progressive regimes committed to secularism have possessed just as much and often a vastly greater capacity for violence as those tied to a religious identity. In Broken Altars, Thomas Albert Howard presents a powerful account of the misery, deaths, and destruction visited on religious communities by secularist regimes in the twentieth century.Presenting three principal forms of modern secularism that have arisen since the Enlightenment—passive secularism, combative secularism, and eliminationist secularism—Howard argues that the latter two have been especially violence-prone. Westerners do not fully grasp this, however, because they often mistake the first form, passive secularism, for secularism as a whole. But a disconcertingly more complicated picture emerges with the adoption of a broader global vision. Admitting different species of secularism, greater historical perspective, and case studies drawn from the former Soviet Union, Turkey, Mexico, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Albania, Mongolia, and China, among other countries, Howard calls into question the conventional tale of modernity as the pacifying triumph of secularism over a benighted religious past. Thomas Albert Howard is professor of humanities and history and holder of the Phyllis and Richard Duesenberg Chair in Christian Ethics at Valparaiso University. He is the author of many books, including The Faiths of Others: A History of Interreligious Dialogue. Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/political-science

A sweeping history of the violence perpetrated by governments committed to extreme forms of secularism in the twentieth centuryA popular truism derived from the Enlightenment holds that violence is somehow inherent to religion, to which political secularism offers a liberating solution. But this assumption ignores a glaring modern reality: that putatively progressive regimes committed to secularism have possessed just as much and often a vastly greater capacity for violence as those tied to a religious identity. In Broken Altars, Thomas Albert Howard presents a powerful account of the misery, deaths, and destruction visited on religious communities by secularist regimes in the twentieth century.Presenting three principal forms of modern secularism that have arisen since the Enlightenment—passive secularism, combative secularism, and eliminationist secularism—Howard argues that the latter two have been especially violence-prone. Westerners do not fully grasp this, however, because they often mistake the first form, passive secularism, for secularism as a whole. But a disconcertingly more complicated picture emerges with the adoption of a broader global vision. Admitting different species of secularism, greater historical perspective, and case studies drawn from the former Soviet Union, Turkey, Mexico, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Albania, Mongolia, and China, among other countries, Howard calls into question the conventional tale of modernity as the pacifying triumph of secularism over a benighted religious past. Thomas Albert Howard is professor of humanities and history and holder of the Phyllis and Richard Duesenberg Chair in Christian Ethics at Valparaiso University. He is the author of many books, including The Faiths of Others: A History of Interreligious Dialogue. Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Czech ammunition initiative to go on: government shifts stance after taking office, Czech scientists study how salt destroys metal structures to protect bridges and spacecraft, From Prague to Australia: the lost photographs of Jiří Viktor Daneš, Czechoslovakia's first consul down under

A sweeping history of the violence perpetrated by governments committed to extreme forms of secularism in the twentieth centuryA popular truism derived from the Enlightenment holds that violence is somehow inherent to religion, to which political secularism offers a liberating solution. But this assumption ignores a glaring modern reality: that putatively progressive regimes committed to secularism have possessed just as much and often a vastly greater capacity for violence as those tied to a religious identity. In Broken Altars, Thomas Albert Howard presents a powerful account of the misery, deaths, and destruction visited on religious communities by secularist regimes in the twentieth century.Presenting three principal forms of modern secularism that have arisen since the Enlightenment—passive secularism, combative secularism, and eliminationist secularism—Howard argues that the latter two have been especially violence-prone. Westerners do not fully grasp this, however, because they often mistake the first form, passive secularism, for secularism as a whole. But a disconcertingly more complicated picture emerges with the adoption of a broader global vision. Admitting different species of secularism, greater historical perspective, and case studies drawn from the former Soviet Union, Turkey, Mexico, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Albania, Mongolia, and China, among other countries, Howard calls into question the conventional tale of modernity as the pacifying triumph of secularism over a benighted religious past. Thomas Albert Howard is professor of humanities and history and holder of the Phyllis and Richard Duesenberg Chair in Christian Ethics at Valparaiso University. He is the author of many books, including The Faiths of Others: A History of Interreligious Dialogue. Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/critical-theory

A sweeping history of the violence perpetrated by governments committed to extreme forms of secularism in the twentieth centuryA popular truism derived from the Enlightenment holds that violence is somehow inherent to religion, to which political secularism offers a liberating solution. But this assumption ignores a glaring modern reality: that putatively progressive regimes committed to secularism have possessed just as much and often a vastly greater capacity for violence as those tied to a religious identity. In Broken Altars, Thomas Albert Howard presents a powerful account of the misery, deaths, and destruction visited on religious communities by secularist regimes in the twentieth century.Presenting three principal forms of modern secularism that have arisen since the Enlightenment—passive secularism, combative secularism, and eliminationist secularism—Howard argues that the latter two have been especially violence-prone. Westerners do not fully grasp this, however, because they often mistake the first form, passive secularism, for secularism as a whole. But a disconcertingly more complicated picture emerges with the adoption of a broader global vision. Admitting different species of secularism, greater historical perspective, and case studies drawn from the former Soviet Union, Turkey, Mexico, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Albania, Mongolia, and China, among other countries, Howard calls into question the conventional tale of modernity as the pacifying triumph of secularism over a benighted religious past. Thomas Albert Howard is professor of humanities and history and holder of the Phyllis and Richard Duesenberg Chair in Christian Ethics at Valparaiso University. He is the author of many books, including The Faiths of Others: A History of Interreligious Dialogue. Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/religion

A sweeping history of the violence perpetrated by governments committed to extreme forms of secularism in the twentieth centuryA popular truism derived from the Enlightenment holds that violence is somehow inherent to religion, to which political secularism offers a liberating solution. But this assumption ignores a glaring modern reality: that putatively progressive regimes committed to secularism have possessed just as much and often a vastly greater capacity for violence as those tied to a religious identity. In Broken Altars, Thomas Albert Howard presents a powerful account of the misery, deaths, and destruction visited on religious communities by secularist regimes in the twentieth century.Presenting three principal forms of modern secularism that have arisen since the Enlightenment—passive secularism, combative secularism, and eliminationist secularism—Howard argues that the latter two have been especially violence-prone. Westerners do not fully grasp this, however, because they often mistake the first form, passive secularism, for secularism as a whole. But a disconcertingly more complicated picture emerges with the adoption of a broader global vision. Admitting different species of secularism, greater historical perspective, and case studies drawn from the former Soviet Union, Turkey, Mexico, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Albania, Mongolia, and China, among other countries, Howard calls into question the conventional tale of modernity as the pacifying triumph of secularism over a benighted religious past. Thomas Albert Howard is professor of humanities and history and holder of the Phyllis and Richard Duesenberg Chair in Christian Ethics at Valparaiso University. He is the author of many books, including The Faiths of Others: A History of Interreligious Dialogue. Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/secularism

January 5, 1968. January 5th, 1968. Slovak reformer Alexander Dubček rises to power in Czechoslovakia, sparking a brief but remarkable wave of freedom called the 'Prague Spring'. Support the show! Join Into History for ad-free listening and more. History Daily is a co-production of Airship and Noiser. Go to HistoryDaily.com for more history, daily.

THE MAP OF WAR AND THE KORDT CONNECTION Colleague Charles Spicer. In early 1938, as Sir Robert Vansittart was sidelined for the appeaser Horace Wilson, the amateur spies continued to provide highly accurate intelligence regarding Hitler's expansionist plans. Graham Christie obtained specific military details from his "friend" Hermann Göring, while Philip Conwell-Evans relied on the Kordt brothers—diplomats embedded in the Germanembassy who secretly opposed the Nazis. This network provided London with a clear map of Hitler's intentions for Austria and Czechoslovakia, and during the "May Crisis," their intelligence contributed to a rare moment of allied coordination that temporarily forced Hitler to back down, frustrating the dictator. NUMBER 9 194546 GORING IN HIS CELL AT NUREMBERG.

THE OSTER CONSPIRACY AND THE CRISIS OF 1938 Colleague Charles Spicer. During the crisis year of 1938, the protagonists provided robust intelligence regarding the "Oster Conspiracy," a credible plan by German military and police officials to remove Hitler from power if he invaded Czechoslovakia. However, Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain undermined this potential coup by pursuing "Plan Z," his personal initiative to fly to Germany and negotiate directly with Hitler, effectively removing the conspirators' casus belli. Following the Munich Agreement, the brutality of Kristallnacht shocked the world, yet the Anglo-German Fellowship was not vilified; instead, it remained a vital conduit for intelligence flowing to Lord Vansittart and the British cabinet. Despite the moral impossibility of forgiving the regime after November 1938, British officials and amateur spies continued to maintain relations in a desperate attempt to find a solution short of total war. NUMBER 10 1945-46. THE ACCUSED HANS FRANK IN HIS CELL.

PREVIEW FOR LATER TONIGHT THE FAILED OSTER CONSPIRACY OF 1938 Colleague Charles Spicer. Charles Spicer discusses the 1938 Oster Conspiracy, a plot by Hitler's opponents to utilize police and army units to arrest him. This coup depended on Hitler attacking Czechoslovakia, but Neville Chamberlain's arrival and appeasement policy destroyed the conspirators' necessary casus belli, ruining a vital chance to stop the coming war. 0CT0BER 16, 1946. NUREMBERG WAR CRIMES CONVICTION HANGED ALFRED JODL. LAST WORDS, "I GREET MY FUHRER."

Seventy-five years ago, Radio Free Europe started broadcasting news to audiences behind the Iron Curtain.It initially broadcast to Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Poland and Romania and programmes were produced in Munich, Germany. It now reaches nearly 50 million people a week, in 27 languages in 23 countries. Rachel Naylor speaks to former deputy director, Arch Puddington. Eye-witness accounts brought to life by archive. Witness History is for those fascinated by the past. We take you to the events that have shaped our world through the eyes of the people who were there. For nine minutes every day, we take you back in time and all over the world, to examine wars, coups, scientific discoveries, cultural moments and much more. Recent episodes explore everything from the death of Adolf Hitler, the first spacewalk and the making of the movie Jaws, to celebrity tortoise Lonesome George, the Kobe earthquake and the invention of superglue. We look at the lives of some of the most famous leaders, artists, scientists and personalities in history, including: Eva Peron – Argentina's Evita; President Ronald Reagan and his famous ‘tear down this wall' speech; Thomas Keneally on why he wrote Schindler's List; and Jacques Derrida, France's ‘rock star' philosopher. You can learn all about fascinating and surprising stories, such as the civil rights swimming protest; the disastrous D-Day rehearsal; and the death of one of the world's oldest languages.(Photo: An engineer at Radio Free Europe in 1960. Credit: Bettmann)

Donny is joined by one of the world's first supermodels, Paulina Porizkova. Porizkova takes us on a journey from her early years that saw her leave Czechoslovakia for Sweden, how meeting modeling scout John Casablancas changed her life, and how the end of her marriage to rock star Ric Ocasek impacted her. Paulina also gives her thoughts on the differences between men and women aging and discusses how aging impacts the careers of models.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This episode brings together two powerful storytelling platforms, blending the inspirational energy of the Get Obsessed Podcast with the mission-driven depth of the Care More Be Better podcast. Hosted by Corinna Bellizzi, Care More Be Better is a show dedicated to amplifying stories that move the world forward—stories of resilience, social change, sustainability, and the human spirit. In this special feature, Corinna sits down with George Drost, father of Julie Lokun, to explore a remarkable journey rooted in courage, identity, and the pursuit of freedom. Learn more about Corinna Bellizzi and The Care More Be Better Podcast: www.caremorebebetter.com Learn more about author Nicki Pascarella: www.nickipascarella.com Get The Quiet Hero Book: www.thequietherobook.com George Drost shares his first-hand experience growing up under Communist rule in Czechoslovakia, the challenges of a world shaped by fear and political control, and the life-altering decision his family made to seek freedom in the United States. His reflections on heritage, risk, and rebuilding a life in a new country offer timeless lessons for anyone interested in personal transformation, immigrant stories, or the strength of the human will. This episode provides listeners with a deeper understanding of the forces that shaped Julie Lokun—media strategist, podcast host, author, and co-founder of Cre8tive Con. Her father's journey has deeply influenced her passion for storytelling and her drive to elevate the voices of others. The conversation also complements the themes found in The Quiet Hero by bestselling author Nicki Pascarella, a poignant book based on the real events of George Drost's life and legacy. Together, this episode celebrates the importance of remembering where we come from, recognizing the sacrifices of previous generations, and honoring the stories that continue to guide us. Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ) What is the Care More Be Better podcast? Care More Be Better is a podcast hosted by Corinna Bellizzi that explores stories of impact, sustainability, social responsibility, and positive global change. Through thoughtful, in-depth interviews, the show highlights individuals who are working to make the world a better place. You can learn more and listen at www.caremorebebetter.com. Why is Care More Be Better a focus of this episode? This episode features Corinna Bellizzi's interview with George Drost, which aligns perfectly with the podcast's mission to shed light on powerful human experiences. George's story of life under Communist oppression and rebuilding his future in America embodies the resilience and transformation the podcast celebrates. What is The Quiet Hero and how does it relate to this story? The Quiet Hero is a moving novel written by Nicki Pascarella that is inspired by the true story of George Drost. The book brings the emotional layers of his journey to life, offering readers a deeper, more intimate look at the experiences that shaped him. More information is available at www.quietherobook.com. Who is Nicki Pascarella? Nicki Pascarella is a bestselling author known for writing heartfelt stories that honor courage, culture, and personal triumph. Her work includes The Quiet Hero, as well as other fiction that explores connection, heritage, and the human experience. You can explore her books and upcoming releases at www.nickipascarella.com. How is Julie Lokun connected to this conversation? Julie Lokun is the daughter of George Drost. Her father's experiences escaping Communist Czechoslovakia and building a new life in the United States deeply shaped her worldview and her passion for storytelling, empowerment, and elevating voices through media and podcasting. What is Cre8tive Con? Cre8tive Con is a dynamic, immersive conference co-founded by Julie Lokun. It brings together creators, authors, podcasters, speakers, and entrepreneurs for a weekend of education, collaboration, brand growth, and inspiration. Past and upcoming events feature world-class guests, including keynote speaker David Meltzer. Event details can be found at www.cre8tivecon.com. Why explore these platforms and creators? Care More Be Better, The Quiet Hero, Nicki Pascarella, and Julie Lokun's Cre8tive Con all share a focus on storytelling, transformation, and meaningful impact. Together, they offer listeners and readers a powerful pathway to understanding resilience, pursuing purpose, and amplifying the stories that matter most. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

1938: Accurate Warnings and the May Crisis: Colleague Charles Spicer explains that in early 1938, as Vansittart was sidelined, Christie continued to extract "spookily accurate" war plans from Göring, providing London with a clear map of Hitler's intentions; introducing the Kordt brothers, diplomats in the German embassy who served as vital conduits for resistance intelligence, the segment concludes with the "May Crisis," where intelligence provided by the protagonists regarding a potential attack on Czechoslovakia may have forced Hitler to temporarily back down, demonstrating the effectiveness of the amateur spies' network. 1933

Ukraine Negotiations: Territorial Disputes and Implacable Positions — Anatol Lieven — Lieven discusses the stalled trilateral negotiations between Washington, Moscow, and Kyiv, noting that while incremental diplomatic progress exists, the fundamental territorial dispute over Donbass remains structurally "implacable" and resistant to resolution. Lieven documents that Ukraine categorically rejects territorial concessions, invoking historical parallels to the 1938 Munich Agreement and its catastrophic consequences for Czechoslovakia. Lieven emphasizes that Putin views the capture and consolidation of Donbass as strategically essential to justify the war's immense human and economic costs to Russian domestic constituencieS 1938.

PREVIEW — Anatol Lieven — Ukraine Conflict: Political Settlement Rather Than Military Resolution. Lieven argues that the Ukrainian situation is fundamentally a political question requiring diplomatic resolution rather than military solution. Lieven dismisses comparisons to Munich 1938, contending that Ukraine's loss of the Donbas—approximately 5% of national territory—does not render the nation structurally indefensible analogous to Czechoslovakia's post-Munich vulnerability. Lieven emphasizes that while Ukraine's territorial integrity is negotiable within diplomatic frameworks, the political settlement necessary to achieve sustainable peace remains extraordinarily intractable given conflicting national interests, historical grievances, and competing security requirements between Moscow and Kyiv. VV

Ian Robert Maxwell (born Ján Ludvík Hyman Binyamin Hoch; 10 June 1923 – 5 November 1991) was a Czechoslovak-born British media proprietor and politician.[1][2] Of Jewish descent, he escaped the Nazi occupation of his native Czechoslovakia and joined the Czechoslovak Army in exile during World War II. He was decorated after active service in the British Army. In subsequent years he worked in publishing, building up Pergamon Press to a major academic publisher. After six years as a Labour Member of Parliament (MP) during the 1960s, Maxwell again put all his energy into business, successively buying the British Printing Corporation, Mirror Group Newspapers and Macmillan Inc., among other publishing companies.

Join us as Julius Jakob shares his account of what it was like to be a Czechoslovakian citizen who was forced to fight for the Wehrmacht after his country was annexed by Nazi Germany prior to WW2. Julius was a Sudaten German in Czechoslovakia who served, as a Czech citizen, in the Czech army prior to WW2. After Czechoslovakia was annexed by Germany in 1938/1939, he was conscripted into the German army and was later taken prisoner and served time as a POW for the Americans, Canadians and British.Julius shares experiences that are not as widely studied or discuss but were shared by millions of citizens occupied by the Nazis during WW2. Listen in!Support the show

From a midnight escape out of communist Czechoslovakia to building a grassroots wellness brand in Vancouver, Katerina of Mila Earth shares a wild, wisdom-packed journey.We get into refugee-camp resilience, how water carries frequency, why she believes magnesium chloride is the “missing link.”We also talk sound healing, intentional water, and yes… the infamous magnesium “penis soap.”Includes a listener promo: code KID15 at milaearth.com.Connect with Mila EarthWebsite → milaearth.comIG → @milaearthinc • @milaearthbodycareSponsorsPHMX – Progressive Health ManagementStem cell and quantum healing therapies for visionary wellness.

What was Adolf Hitler's next move, after occupying Czechoslovakia in March 1939, and brutally invading Poland that September? Why did the Allies fail to act, despite the Nazis shocking offensive? And, would an assassination plot from within Germany itself prove to be Hitler's undoing?   Join Dominic and Tom as they launch into the Second World War, as Hitler and the Nazis escalate their war on Europe.  Hive. Know your power. Visit https://hivehome.com to find out more. _______ Is your door in the draw? Sign up by midnight 30th November at https://postcodelottery.co.uk. People's Postcode Lottery manages lotteries on behalf of good causes, 18 plus, conditions apply, play responsibly, not available in Northern Ireland. _______ Get our exclusive NordVPN deal here ➼ https://nordvpn.com/restishistory It's risk-free with Nord's 30-day money-back guarantee ✅ _______ Join The Rest Is History Club: Unlock the full experience of the show – with exclusive bonus episodes, ad-free listening, early access to every series and live show tickets, a members-only newsletter, discounted books from the show, and access to our private Discord chatroom. Sign up directly at ⁠therestishistory.com⁠ For more Goalhanger Podcasts, head to ⁠www.goalhanger.com _______ Twitter: @TheRestHistory @holland_tom @dcsandbrook Video Editor: Jack Meek / Harry Swan  Social Producer: Harry Balden Assistant Producer: Aaliyah Akude  Producer: Tabby Syrett Senior Producer: Theo Young-Smith Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Join us as Julius Jakob shares his account of what it was like to be a Czechoslovakian citizen who was forced to fight for the Wehrmacht after his country was annexed by Nazi Germany prior to WW2. Julius was a Sudaten German in Czechoslovakia who served, as a Czech citizen, in the Czech army prior to WW2. After Czechoslovakia was annexed by Germany in 1938/1939, he was conscripted into the German army and was later taken prisoner and served time as a POW for the Americans, Canadians and British.Julius shares experiences that are not as widely studied or discuss but were shared by millions of citizens occupied by the Nazis during WW2. Listen in!Support the show

November 17, 1989. A student demonstration in Prague is violently shut down by the police, sparking the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia. This episode originally aired in 2023.Support the show! Join Into History for ad-free listening and more.History Daily is a co-production of Airship and Noiser.Go to HistoryDaily.com for more history, daily.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Join us as Julius Jakob shares his account of what it was like to be a Czechoslovakian citizen who was forced to fight for the Wehrmacht after his country was annexed by Nazi Germany prior to WW2. Julius was a Sudaten German in Czechoslovakia who served, as a Czech citizen, in the Czech army prior to WW2. After Czechoslovakia was annexed by Germany in 1938/1939, he was conscripted into the German army and was later taken prisoner and served time as a POW for the Americans, Canadians and British.Julius shares experiences that are not as widely studied or discuss but were shared by millions of citizens occupied by the Nazis during WW2. Listen in!Support the show

Last time we spoke about the Changsha fire. Chiang Kai-shek faced a brutal choice: defend Wuhan to the last man or flood the land to slow the invaders. He chose both, pushing rivers and rallying a fractured army as Japanese forces pressed along the Yangtze. Fortresses at Madang held long, but the cost was high—troops lost, civilians displaced, a city's heart burning in the night. Wuhan fell after months of brutal fighting, yet the battle did not break China's will. Mao Zedong urged strategy over martyrdom, preferring to drain the enemy and buy time for a broader struggle. The Japanese, though victorious tactically, found their strength ebbing, resource strains, supply gaps, and a war that felt endless. In the wake of Wuhan, Changsha stood next in the Japanese crosshairs, its evacuation and a devastating fire leaving ash and memory in its wake. Behind these prices, political currents swirled. Wang Jingwei defected again, seeking power beyond Chiang's grasp, while Chongqing rose as a western bastion of resistance. The war hardened into a protracted stalemate, turning Japan from an aggressive assailant into a wary occupier, and leaving China to endure, persist, and fight on.   #175  The Soviet-Japanese Border Conflicts Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. So based on the title of this one, you probably can see we are taking a bit of a detour. For quite some time we have focused on the Japanese campaigns into China proper 1937-1938. Now the way the second sino-japanese war is traditionally broken down is in phases. 1937-1938, 1939-1942 and 1942-1945. However there is actually even more going on in China aside from the war with Japan. In Xinjiang province a large full blown Islamic revolution breaks out in 1937. We will be covering that story at a later date, but another significant event is escalating border skirmishes in Manchukuo. Now these border skirmishes had been raging ever since the USSR consolidated its hold over the far east. We talked about some of those skirmishes prior to the Sino-Soviet war in 1929. However when Japan created the puppet government of Manchukuo, this was a significant escalation in tensions with the reds. Today we are going to talk about the escalating border conflicts between the Soviets and Japan. A tongue of poorly demarcated land extends southeast from Hunchun, hugging the east bank of the Tumen River between Lake Khasan to the east and Korea to the west. Within this tongue stands Changkufeng Hill, one of a long chain of highlands sweeping from upstream along the rivers and moors toward the sea. The twin-peaked hill sits at the confluence area several miles northwest of the point where Manchuria, Korea, and the Russian Far East meet. The hill's shape reminded Koreans of their changgo, which is a long snare drum constricted at the center and tapped with the hands at each end. When the Manchus came to the Tumen, they rendered the phonetic sounds into three ideographic characters meaning "taut drum peaks" or Chang-ku-feng. The Japanese admired the imagery and preserved the Chinese readings, which they pronounce Cho-ko-ho. From their eastern vantage, the Russians called it Zaozernaya, "hill behind the lake." Soviet troops referred to it as a sugar-loaf hill. For many years, natives and a handful of officials in the region cultivated a relaxed attitude toward borders and sovereignty. Even after the Japanese seized Manchuria in 1931, the issue did not immediately come to a head. With the expansion of Manchukuo and the Soviet Far East under Stalin's Five-Year plans, both sides began to attend more closely to frontier delimitation. Whenever either party acted aggressively, force majeure was invoked to justify the unexpected and disruptive events recognized in international law. Most often, these incidents erupted along the eastern Manchurian borders with the USSR or along the 350-mile frontier south of Lake Khanka, each skirmish carrying the seeds of all-out warfare. Now we need to talk a little bit about border history. The borders in question essentially dated to pacts concluded by the Qing dynasty and the Tsardom. Between the first Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689 and the Mukden Agreement of 1924, there were over a dozen accords governing the borders. Relevant to Changkufeng were the basic 15-article Convention of Peking, supplementing the Tientsin Treaties of November 1860, some maps made in 1861, and the eight-article Hunchun Border Protocol of 1886. By the 1860 treaty, the Qing ceded to Tsarist Russia the entire maritime province of Siberia, but the meaning of "lands south of Lake Khanka" remained rather vague. Consequently, a further border agreement was negotiated in June 1861 known as "the Lake Khanka Border Pact", by which demarcations were drawn on maps and eight wooden markers erected. The border was to run from Khanka along ridgelines between the Hunchun River and the sea, past Suifenho and Tungning, terminating about 6 miles from the mouth of the Tumen. Then a Russo-Chinese commission established in 1886 drew up the Hunchun Border Pact, proposing new or modified markers along the 1860–1861 lines and arranging a Russian resurvey. However, for the Japanese, in 1938, the Chinese or Manchu texts of the 1886 Hunchun agreement were considered controlling. The Soviets argued the border ran along every summit west of Khasan, thereby granting them jurisdiction over at least the eastern slopes of all elevations, including Changkufeng and Shachaofeng.  Since the Qing dynasty and the house of Romanov were already defunct, the new sovereignties publicly appealed to opposing texts, and the Soviet side would not concede that the Russian-language version had never been deemed binding by the Qing commissioners. Yet, even in 1938, the Japanese knew that only the Chinese text had survived or could be located.    Now both the Chinese and Russian military maps generally drew the frontier along the watershed east of Khasan; this aligned with the 1861 readings based on the Khanka agreement. The Chinese Republican Army conducted new surveys sometime between 1915 and 1920. The latest Chinese military map of the Changkufeng area drew the border considerably closer to the old "red line" of 1886, running west of Khasan but near the shore rather than traversing the highland crests. None of the military delimitations of the border was sanctified by an official agreement. Hence, the Hunchun Protocol, whether well known or not, invaluable or worthless, remained the only government-to-government pact dealing with the frontiers.  Before we jump into it, how about a little summary of what became known as the Soviet-Japanese border conflicts. The first major conflict would obviously be the Russo-Japanese war of 1904-1905. Following years of conflict between the Russian Empire and Japan culminating in the costly Battle of Tsushima, Tsar Nicholas II's government sought peace, recognizing Japan's claims to Korea and agreeing to evacuate Manchuria.  From 1918 to 1920, the Imperial Japanese Army, under Emperor Taishō after the death of Meiji, assisted the White Army and Alexander Kerensky against the Bolshevik Red Army. They also aided the Czechoslovak Legion in Siberia to facilitate its return to Europe after an Austrian-Hungarian armoured train purportedly went astray. By 1920, with Austria-Hungary dissolved and Czechoslovakia established two years earlier, the Czechoslovak Legion reached Europe. Japan withdrew from the Russian Revolution and the Civil War in 1922. Following Japan's 1919-1920 occupations and the Soviet intervention in Mongolia in 1921, the Republic of China also withdrew from Outer Mongolia in 1921. In 1922, after capturing Vladivostok in 1918 to halt Bolshevik advances, Japanese forces retreated to Japan as Bolshevik power grew and the postwar fatigue among combatants increased. After Hirohito's invasion of Manchuria in 1931–1932, following Taishō's death in 1926, border disputes between Manchukuo, the Mongolian People's Republic, and the Soviet Union increased. Many clashes stemmed from poorly defined borders, though some involved espionage. Between 1932 and 1934, the Imperial Japanese Army reported 152 border disputes, largely tied to Soviet intelligence activity in Manchuria, while the Soviets accused Japan of 15 border violations, six air intrusions, and 20 cases of "spy smuggling" in 1933 alone. Numerous additional violations followed in the ensuing years. By the mid-1930s, Soviet-Japanese diplomacy and trust had deteriorated further, with the Japanese being openly labeled "fascist enemies" at the Seventh Comintern Congress in July 1935. Beginning in 1935, conflicts significantly escalated. On 8 January 1935, the first armed clash, known as the Halhamiao incident, took place on the border between Mongolia and Manchukuo. Several dozen cavalrymen of the Mongolian People's Army crossed into Manchuria near disputed fishing grounds and engaged an 11‑man Manchukuo Imperial Army patrol near the Buddhist temple at Halhamiao, led by a Japanese military advisor. The Manchukuo Army sustained 6 wounded and 2 dead, including the Japanese officer; the Mongols suffered no casualties and withdrew after the Japanese sent a punitive expedition to reclaim the area. Two motorized cavalry companies, a machine‑gun company, and a tankette platoon occupied the position for three weeks without resistance. In June 1935, the first direct exchange of fire between the Japanese and Soviets occurred when an 11‑man Japanese patrol west of Lake Khanka was attacked by six Soviet horsemen, reportedly inside Manchukuo territory. In the firefight, one Soviet soldier was killed and two horses were captured. The Japanese requested a joint investigation, but the Soviets rejected the proposal. In October 1935, nine Japanese and 32 Manchukuoan border guards were establishing a post about 20 kilometers north of Suifenho when they were attacked by 50 Soviet soldiers. The Soviets opened fire with rifles and five heavy machine guns. Two Japanese and four Manchukuoan soldiers were killed, and another five were wounded. The Manchukuoan foreign affairs representative lodged a verbal protest with the Soviet consul at Suifenho. The Kwantung Army of Japan also sent an intelligence officer to investigate the clash. On 19 December 1935, a Manchukuoan unit reconnoitering southwest of Buir Lake clashed with a Mongolian party, reportedly capturing 10 soldiers. Five days later, 60 truck‑borne Mongolian troops assaulted the Manchukuoans and were repulsed, at the cost of three Manchukuoan dead. On the same day, at Brunders, Mongolian forces attempted three times to drive out Manchukuoan outposts, and again at night, but all attempts failed. Further small attempts occurred in January, with Mongolians using airplanes for reconnaissance. The arrival of a small Japanese force in three trucks helped foil these attempts; casualties occurred on both sides, though Mongolian casualties are unknown aside from 10 prisoners taken. In February 1936, Lieutenant-Colonel Sugimoto Yasuo was ordered to form a detachment from the 14th Cavalry Regiment to "drive the Outer Mongol intruders from the Olankhuduk region," a directive attributed to Lieutenant-General Kasai Heijuro. Sugimoto's detachment included cavalry guns, heavy machine guns, and tankettes. They faced a force of about 140 Mongolians equipped with heavy machine guns and light artillery. On February 12, Sugimoto's men drove the Mongolians south, at the cost of eight Japanese killed, four wounded, and one tankette destroyed. The Japanese began to withdraw, but were attacked by 5–6 Mongolian armored cars and two bombers, which briefly disrupted the column. The situation was stabilized when the Japanese unit received artillery support, allowing them to destroy or repel the armored cars. In March 1936, the Tauran incident occurred. In this clash, both the Japanese Army and the Mongolian Army deployed a small number of armored fighting vehicles and aircraft. The incident began when 100 Mongolian and six Soviet troops attacked and occupied the disputed village of Tauran, Mongolia, driving off the small Manchurian garrison. They were supported by light bombers and armored cars, though the bombing sorties failed to inflict damage on the Japanese, and three bombers were shot down by Japanese heavy machine guns. Local Japanese forces counter-attacked, conducting dozens of bombing sorties and finally assaulting Tauran with 400 men and 10 tankettes. The result was a Mongolian rout, with 56 Mongolian soldiers killed, including three Soviet advisors, and an unknown number wounded. Japanese losses were 27 killed and 9 wounded. Later in March 1936, another border clash occurred between Japanese and Soviet forces. Reports of border violations prompted the Japanese Korean Army to send ten men by truck to investigate, but the patrol was ambushed by 20 Soviet NKVD soldiers deployed about 300 meters inside territory claimed by Japan. After suffering several casualties, the Japanese patrol withdrew and was reinforced with 100 men, who then drove off the Soviets. Fighting resumed later that day when the NKVD brought reinforcements. By nightfall, the fighting had ceased and both sides had pulled back. The Soviets agreed to return the bodies of two Japanese soldiers who had died in the fighting, a development viewed by the Japanese government as encouraging. In early April 1936, three Japanese soldiers were killed near Suifenho in another minor affray. This incident was notable because the Soviets again returned the bodies of the fallen servicemen. In June 1937, the Kanchazu Island incident occurred on the Amur River along the Soviet–Manchukuo border. Three Soviet gunboats crossed the river's center line, disembarked troops, and occupied Kanchazu Island. Japanese forces from the IJA 1st Division, equipped with two horse-drawn 37 mm artillery pieces, quickly established improvised firing positions and loaded their guns with both high-explosive and armor-piercing shells. They shelled the Soviet vessels, sinking the lead gunboat, crippling the second, and driving off the third. Japanese troops subsequently fired on the swimming crewmen from the sunken ships using machine guns. Thirty-seven Soviet soldiers were killed, while Japanese casualties were zero. The Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs protested and demanded the Soviet forces withdraw from the island. The Soviet leadership, apparently shocked by the incident and reluctant to escalate, agreed to evacuate their troops. By 1938 the border situation had deteriorated. The tangled terrain features, mountain, bog, stream, forest, and valley, would have complicated even careful observers' discernment of the old red line drawn in 1886. Fifty years later, the markers themselves had undergone a metamorphosis. Japanese investigators could find, at most, only 14 to 17 markers standing fairly intact between the Tumen estuary and Khanka—roughly one every 25 miles at best. The remainder were missing or ruined; five were found in new locations. Marker "K," for example, was 40 meters deeper inside Manchuria, away from Khanka. Japanese military experts noted that of the 20 markers originally set along the boundaries of Hunchun Prefecture alone, only four could be found by the summer of 1938. The rest had either been wrecked or arbitrarily moved and discarded by Russian or Chinese officials and inhabitants. It is even said that one missing marker could be seen on display in Khabarovsk. The Chinese had generally interpreted the boundary as the road line just west of Khasan, at least in practice. Free road movement, however, had become a problem even 20 years before the Japanese overran Manchuria in 1931–1932 during the so-called Manchurian Incident. The Japanese adopted, or inherited, the Chinese interpretation, which was based on the 1886 agreement on border roads; the key clause held that the frontier west of Khasan would be the road along the lake. Japanese sources emphasize that local residents' anger toward gradual Soviet oppression and penetrations westward into Manchurian territory fueled the conflict. Many natives believed the original boundaries lay east of the lake, but the Soviets adjusted the situation to suit their own convenience. In practice, the Russians were restricting road use just west of Khasan by Manchurian and Korean residents. There was speculation that this was a prelude to taking over the ridgelines, depending on the reaction of the Manchukuoan–Japanese side. Villagers who went to streams or the lake to launder clothing found themselves subjected to sniper fire. Along a 25-mile stretch of road near Shachaofeng, farmers reported coming under fire from new Soviet positions as early as November 1935. Nevertheless, Japanese and Koreans familiar with the Tumen area noted agrarian, seasonal Korean religious rites atop Changkufeng Hill, including fattened pigs sacrificed and changgo drums beaten. Village elders told Japanese visitors in 1938 that, until early the preceding year, no Russians had come as far as Changkufeng Hill. Looking only at the border sector around Changkufeng, the easy days were clearly behind us. In the summer of 1938, Gaimusho "Foreign Ministry" observers described the explosive situation along the Korea–Manchuria–USSR borders as a matter of de facto frontiers. Both sides pressed against each other, and their trigger-happy posture was summed up in the colloquial refrain: "Take another step and we'll let you have it." Near dawn on 13 June 1938, a Manchurian patrol detected a suspicious figure in the fog swirling over Changlingtzu Hill on the Siberian–Manchurian frontier. Challenged at 15 feet, the suspect hurled two pistols to the ground and raised his hands in surrender. At headquarters, the police soon realized this was no routine border-trespassing case. The man was a defector and he was a Russian general, in fact he was the director of all NKVD forces in the Soviet Far East. Beneath a mufti of spring coat and hunting cap, he wore a full uniform with medals. His identification card No. 83 designated him as G. S. Lyushkov, Commissar 3rd Class, countersigned by Nikolai Yezhov, NKVD head in Moscow. Lyushkov was promptly turned over to the Japanese military authorities, who transferred him to Seoul and then to Tokyo under close escort. On 1 July, the Japanese press was permitted to disclose that Lyushkov had sought refuge in Japan. Ten days later, to capitalize on the commissar's notoriety and to confound skeptics, the Japanese produced Lyushkov at a press conference in Tokyo. For the Japanese and foreign correspondents, who met separately with him, Lyushkov described Soviet Far East strength and the turmoil wracking the USSR, because for those of you unfamiliar this was during the Stalinist purges. Clearly, the Japanese had gained a unique reservoir of high-level intelligence and a wealth of materials, including notes scratched in blood by suspects incarcerated at Khabarovsk. A general tightening of Russian frontier security had recently been reported. Natives of Fangchuanting asserted that a Soviet cavalry patrol appeared in June, seemingly for the first time. Contact with Yangkuanping, northwest of Khasan, was severed. More importantly, Japanese Army Signal Corps intelligence detected a surge of Soviet message traffic from the Posyet Bay district. After Lyushkov's defection, a drastic reshuffle in the local Russian command apparently occurred, and responsibility for border surveillance seems to have been reallocated. Japanese records indicate that the Novokievsk security force commander was relieved and the sector garrison replaced by troops from Vladivostok. Gaimusho intelligence also received reports that a border garrison unit had been transferred from Khabarovsk or Chita to the Tumen sector. The Kwantung Army signal monitors also intercepted two significant frontline messages on 6 July from the new Russian local commander in the Posyet region, addressed to Lieutenant General Sokolov in Khabarovsk. Decoded, the messages suggested (1) that ammunition for infantry mortars amounted to less than half the required supply; and  (2) a recommendation that higher headquarters authorize Russian elements to secure certain unoccupied high ground west of Khasan.  The commander noted terrain advantages and the contemplated construction of emplacements that would command Najin and the Korean railway. As a start, at least one Russian platoon should be authorized to dig in on the highest ground (presumably Changkufeng) and deploy four tons of entanglements to stake out the Soviet claim. Korea Army Headquarters received a telegram from the Kwantung Army on 7 July conveying the deciphered messages. On the same day, the 19th Division in North Korea telephoned Seoul that, on 6 July, three or four Soviet horsemen had been observed reconnoitering Manchurian territory from atop a hill called Changkufeng. The alarming intelligence from the Kwantung Army and the front warranted immediate attention by the Korea Army. Some Kwantung Army officers doubted the significance of the developments, with one intelligence official even suggesting the Russian messages might be a deliberate ploy designed to entrap the Japanese at Changkufeng. On 7–8 July, all staff officers in Seoul convened at army headquarters. The name of Changkufeng Hill was not well known, but maps and other data suggested that neither the Japanese nor the Russians had previously stationed border units in the ridge complex west of Khasan. As early as March 1936, Army Commander Koiso Kuniaki had distributed maps to subordinate units, indicating which sectors were in dispute. No patrol was to enter zones lacking definitive demarcation. Until then, the only Japanese element east of the Tumen was a Manchurian policeman at Fangchuanting. Ownership of the high ground emerged as an early issue. A number of other points were raised by  the Kwantung Army: At present, Soviet elements in the area were negligible. The intrusion must not be overlooked. The Russians could be expected to exploit any weakness, and half-measures would not suffice, especially regarding the Japanese defense mission along a 125-mile frontier. In Japanese hands, Changkufeng Hill would be useful, but two excellent observation posts already existed in the neighboring sector of the Manchurian tongue. With dissidence and purges underway, the Russians may have judged it necessary to seal border gaps, particularly after Lyushkov's defection. They may also have sought to control Changkufeng to offset Japanese dominance of the high ground to the north. Soviet seizure of Changkufeng would upset the delicate status quo and could provoke a contest for equivalent observation posts. In broader terms, it mattered little whether the Russians sought a permanent observation post on Changkufeng Hill, which was of relatively minor strategic value. Japan's primary concern lay in the China theater; Changkufeng was peripheral. The Japanese should not expend limited resources or become distracted. The matter required consultation with the high command in Tokyo. In the absence of more comprehensive intelligence, the assembled staff officers concluded that the Korea Army should, at a minimum, ignore or disregard Soviet actions for the time being, while maintaining vigilant observation of the area. The consensus was communicated to Major General Kitano Kenzo, the Korea Army chief of staff, who concurred, and to Koiso. Upon learning that the recommendation advocated a low posture, Koiso inquired only whether the opinion reflected the unanimous view of the staff. Having been assured that it did, he approved the policy. Koiso, then 58, was at the threshold of the routine personnel changes occurring around 15 July. He had just been informed that he would retire and that General Nakamura Kotaro would succeed him. Those acquainted with Koiso perceived him as treating the border difficulties as a minor anticlimax in the course of his command tour. He appeared unemphatic or relaxed as he prepared to depart from a post he had held for twenty-one years. Although neither Koiso nor his staff welcomed the Soviet activities that appeared under way, his reaction likely reflected a reluctance to make decisions that could constrain his soon-to-arrive successor. On 8 July Koiso authorized the dispatch of warnings to the 19th Division at Nanam, to the Hunchun garrison, and to the intelligence branch at Hunchun. These units were instructed to exercise maximum precautions and to tighten frontier security north of Shuiliufeng. In response to the initial appearance of Soviet horsemen at Changkufeng, the Kucheng Border Garrison Unit of the 76th Infantry Regiment maintained close surveillance across the Tumen. By about noon on 9 July, patrols detected approximately a dozen Russian troops commencing construction atop Changkufeng. Between 11 and 13 July, the number of soldiers on the slopes increased to forty; there were also thirty horses and eleven camouflaged tents. Operating in shifts on the western side, thirty meters from the crest, the Russians erected barbed wire and firing trenches; fifty meters forward, they excavated observation trenches. In addition to existing telephone lines between Changkufeng, Lake Khasan, and Kozando, the Russians installed a portable telephone net. Logistical support was provided by three boats on the lake. Approximately twenty kilometers to the east, well within Soviet territory, large forces were being mobilized, and steamship traffic into Posyet Bay intensified. Upon learning of the "intrusion" at Changkufeng on 9 July, Lt. General Suetaka Kamezo, the commander of the 19th Division, dispatched staff officers to the front and prepared to send elements to reinforce border units.  The special significance of Suetaka and his division stemmed from a series of unusual circumstances. Chientao Province, the same zone into which Lyushkov had fled and the sector where Soviet horsemen had appeared, fell within Manchukuo geographically and administratively. Yet, in terms of defense, the configuration of the frontier, the terrain, and the transportation network more closely connected the region with North Korea than with southeastern Manchuria. Approximately 80% of the population was of Korean origin, which implied Japanese rather than Manchukuoan allegiance. Consequently, the Korea Army had been made operationally responsible for the defense of Chientao and controlled not only the three-battalion garrison at Hunchun but also the intelligence detachment located there. In the event of war, the Korea Army's mission was defined as mobilization and execution of subsidiary operational tasks against the USSR, under the control and in support of the Kwantung Army.  The Korea Army ordinarily possessed two infantry divisions, the 19th in North Korea and the 20th stationed at Seoul, but the 20th Division had already departed for China, leaving only the 20th Depot Division in the capital. Beyond sparse ground units, devoid of armor and with weak heavy artillery, there were only two air regiments in Korea, the nearest being the unit at Hoeryong. The Korea Army was designed to maintain public security within Korea as well as fulfill minimal defensive responsibilities. Such an army did not require a full-time operations officer, and none was maintained. When needed, as in mid-1938, the task fell to the senior staff officer, in this case Colonel Iwasaki Tamio. In peacetime, training constituted the primary focus.  Thus, the 19th Division was entrusted with defending northeastern Korea. Its commander, Suetaka, a seasoned infantryman, resented the fact that his elite force had never engaged in combat in China. He intensified training with zeal, emphasizing strict discipline, bravery, aggressiveness, and thorough preparation. Japanese veterans characterized him as severe, bullish, short-tempered, hot-blooded, highly strung, unbending, and stubborn. Nonetheless, there was widespread respect for his realistic training program, maintained under firm, even violent, personal supervision. His men regarded Suetaka as a professional, a modern samurai who forged the division into superb condition. Privately, he was reputed for sensitivity and warmth; a Japanese phrase "yakamashii oyaji" captures the dual sense of stern father and martinet in his character. At the outset, however, Suetaka displayed little aggression. Although not widely known, he did not welcome the orders from army headquarters to deploy to the Tumen. Until late July, he remained somewhat opposed to the notion of dislodging the Soviets from the crest, a proposition arising from neither the division staff nor, initially, Suetaka himself. Colonel Sato noted that, for a week after reports of Soviet excavation at Changkufeng, the division's response was limited to preparations for a possible emergency, as they perceived the matter as a local issue best settled through diplomacy. Korea Army officers acknowledged that, around the time the Soviets consolidated their outpost strength at Changkufeng, an informal and personal telegram arrived in Seoul from a Kwantung Army Intelligence field-grade officer who specialized in Soviet affairs. If the Korea Army hesitated, the Kwantung Army would be obliged to eject the Russians; the matter could not be ignored. While the telegram did not demand a reply and struck several officers as presumptuous and implausible, the message was promptly shown to Koiso. Koiso was driven to immediate action, he wired Tokyo asserting that only the Korea Army could and would handle the incident. One staff officer recalled "We felt we had to act, out of a sense of responsibility. But we resented the Kwantung Army's interference." The Korea Army staff convened shortly after receipt of the unofficial telegram from Hsinking. Based on the latest intelligence from the division dated 13 July, the officers prepared an assessment for submission to the army commander. The hypotheses were distilled into three scenarios: The USSR, or the Far East authorities, desires hostilities. Conclusion: Slightly possible. The USSR seeks to restrain Japan on the eve of the pivotal operations in China: the major Japanese offensive to seize Hankow. Conclusion: Highly probable. The Posyet district commander is new in his post; by occupying the Changkufeng ridges, he would demonstrate loyalty, impress superiors, and seek glory. Conclusion: Possible. Late on 13 July or early on 14 July, Koiso approved the dispatch of a message to the vice minister of war, and the Kwantung Army chief of staff:  "Lake Khasan area lies in troublesome sector USSR has been claiming . . . in accordance with treaties [said Secret Message No. 913], but we interpret it to be Manchukuoan territory, evident even from maps published by Soviet side. Russian actions are patently illegal, but, considering that area does not exert major or immediate influence on operations [Japan] is intending and that China Incident is in full swing, we are not going to conduct counterattack measures immediately. This army is thinking of reasoning with Soviets and requesting pullback, directly on spot. . . . In case Russians do not accede in long run, we have intention to drive Soviet soldiers out of area east of Khasan firmly by use of force."  The message concluded with a request that the Tokyo authorities lodge a formal protest with the USSR, on behalf of Manchukuo and Japan, and guide matters so that the Russians would withdraw quickly. Dominant in Japanese high command thinking in 1938 was the China theater; the Changkufeng episode constituted a mere digression. A sequence of Japanese tactical victories had preceded the summer: Tsingtao fell in January; the Yellow River was reached in March; a "reformed government of the Republic of China" was installed at Nanking several weeks later; Amoy fell in early May; Suchow fell on the 20th. With these gains, northern and central fronts could be linked by the Japanese. Yet Chinese resistance persisted, and while public statements anticipated imminent Chinese dissension, private admissions acknowledged that the partial effects of Suchow's fall were ominous: control might pass from Chiang Kai-shek to the Communists, Chinese defiance might intensify, and Soviet involvement could ensue. A Hankow drive appeared desirable to symbolize the conclusion of the military phase of hostilities. The Japanese and their adversaries were in accord regarding the importance of the summer and autumn campaigns. Even after Suchow's fall, the government discouraged public insinuations that enemy resistance was collapsing; when Chiang addressed the nation on the first anniversary of hostilities, Premier Konoe prophetically proclaimed, "The war has just begun." Colonel Inada Masazum served as the Army General Staff's principal figure for the Changkufeng affair, occupying the position of chief of the 2nd Operations Section within the Operations Bureau in March 1938. A distinguished graduate of the Military Academy, Inada completed the War College program and held a combination of line, instructional, and staff assignments at the War College, the Army General Staff, and the War Ministry. He was recognized as a sharp, highly capable, and driveful personality, though some regarded him as enigmatic. Following the capture of Suchow, Imperial General Headquarters on 18 June ordered field forces to undertake operational preparations for a drive to seize the Wuhan complex. Inada favored a decisive move aimed at achieving a rapid political settlement. He acknowledged that Soviet intervention in 1938, during Japan's involvement in China, would have been critical. Although Japanese forces could still defeat the Chinese, an overextended Japanese Army might be fatally compromised against the Russians. Soviet assistance to China was already pronouncedly unwelcome. The Soviets were reported to possess roughly 20 rifle divisions, four to five cavalry divisions, 1,500 tanks, and 1,560 aircraft, including 300 bombers with a range of approximately 3,000 kilometers, enabling reach from Vladivostok to Tokyo. Soviet manpower in Siberia was likely near 370,000. In response, Japanese central authorities stressed a no-trouble policy toward the USSR while seeking to "wall off" the border and bolster the Kwantung Army as quickly as possible. Nevertheless, the envisaged correction of the strategic imbalance could not occur before 1943, given shortages in ammunition, manpower, and materiel across existing theaters in China. By the end of 1937 Japan had committed 16 of its 24 divisions to China, bringing the standing force to roughly 700,000. Army General Staff planners reallocated three ground divisions, intended for a northern contingency, from north to central China, even as the Kwantung Army operated from a less favorable posture. Attitudes toward the northern problem varied within senior military circles. While concern persisted, it was not universal. As campaigns in China widened, planning at the high command level deteriorated, propagating confusion and anxiety to field armies in China. The Japanese Navy suspected that the Army general staff was invoking the USSR as a pretext for broader strategic aims—namely, to provoke a more consequential confrontation with the USSR while the Navy contended with its own strategic rivalries with the Army, centered on the United States and Britain. Army leaders, however, denied aggressive intent against the USSR at that time. The Hankow plan encountered substantial internal opposition at high levels. Private assessments among army planners suggested that a two-front war would be premature given operational readiness and troop strength. Not only were new War Ministry officials cautious, but many high-ranking Army general staff officers and court circles shared doubts.  Aggressive tendencies, influenced by subordinates and the Kwantung Army, were evident in Inada, who repeatedly pressed Tada Shun, the deputy army chief of staff, to endorse the Wuhan drive as both necessary and feasible, arguing that the USSR would gain from Japan's weakening without incurring substantial losses. Inada contended that Stalin was rational and that time favored the USSR in the Far East, where industrial buildup and military modernization were ongoing. He argued that the Soviet purges impeded opportunistic ventures with Japan. He posited that Nazi Germany posed a growing threat on the western front, and thus the USSR should be avoided by both Japan, due to China and Russia, due to Germany. While most of the army remained engaged in China, Tada did not initially share Inada's views; only after inspecting the Manchurian borders in April 1938 did he finally align with Inada's broader vision, which encompassed both northern and Chinese considerations. During this period, Inada studied daily intelligence from the Kwantung Army, and after Lyushkov's defection in June, reports suggested the Soviets were following their sector commander's recommendations. Russian troops appeared at Changkufeng, seemingly prepared to dig in. Inada recollects his reaction: "That's nice, my chance has come." I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The simmering Soviet–Japanese border clashes centered on Changkufeng Hill near Lake Khanka, set within a broader history of contested frontiers dating to Qing and Tsarist treaties. Japan, prioritizing China, considered Changkufeng peripheral but ready to confront Soviet encroachment; Moscow aimed to consolidate border gains, with high-level war planning overlaying regional skirmishes. Conflict loomed over Manchuria.

Join us as Julius Jakob shares his account of what it was like to be a Czechoslovakian citizen who was forced to fight for the Wehrmacht after his country was annexed by Nazi Germany prior to WW2. Julius was a Sudaten German in Czechoslovakia who served, as a Czech citizen, in the Czech army prior to WW2. After Czechoslovakia was annexed by Germany in 1938/1939, he was conscripted into the German army and was later taken prisoner and served time as a POW for the Americans, Canadians and British.Julius shares experiences that are not as widely studied or discuss but were shared by millions of citizens occupied by the Nazis during WW2. Listen in!Support the show

PREVIEW:: America First: Roosevelt vs. Lindbergh in the Shadow of War Hardcover – September 24, 2024 by  H. W. Brands  (Author) This source focuses on Charles Lindbergh's perspective on Germany and his strong critiques of Great Britain's foreign policy leading up to the war during the critical years of 1939, 1940, and 1941. 1927 LINDBERGH Context and Key Figures: The conflict detailed in the book covers the critical years 1939, 1940, and 1941, culminating in the Japanese attack. Lindbergh was the "hero of the age," while Franklin D. Roosevelt, running for a third term, was a "genius at political success." Lindbergh's Perspective on Germany: Lindbergh held a "stubborn admiration for German culture," believing "the Germans knew how to do things right." He was "puzzled and dismayed" by the political changes in Germany, including the rise of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party. He did not know what to make of the "strange and alarming turn" German politics had taken, or the "apparent obvious embrace by the German people" of these new movements. Lindbergh's Critique of Britain: Lindbergh was "very discouraged" about Britain's approach to world affairs, believing Britain's "day was behind it" and its "great time was behind it." He felt Britain had allowed itself to fall into "complacency and apathy." He criticized Britain and France for establishing an "unrealistic postwar regime" at the Paris Peace Conferenceof 1919. They imposed unrealistic restrictions on Germany but then "refused to enforce them afterward." He suspected the British were attempting to "continue to cruise on the momentum" of their 19th-century empire. Lindbergh was puzzled by British policy, specifically that they made demands on Germany ("You must do this") while making promises (to Czechoslovakia and then Poland) that they could not fulfill. He was afraid that Hitler would "call their bluff" and Europe would be at war. Lindbergh strongly suspected that if war broke out, the British would look to the United States to "bail them out," repeating the pattern of World War I.