Podcasts about Pacific War

While the first half of 1942 was characterized by small-scale raids and minor skirmishes between Allied forces and the Empire of Japan in the Pacific, the summer of 1942 witnessed one of the largest and most significant naval battles in world history as the Imperial Japanese Navy tried to lure US aircraft carriers into a trap only to find themselves trapped as a result.Support the show My latest novel, "Califia's Crusade," is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Bookshop.org, and many other online platforms!

Last time we spoke about the Soviet-Japanese Border Conflict. The border between Soviet Manchuria and Japanese-occupied territories emerges not as a single line but as a mosaic of contested spaces, marks, and memories. A sequence of incidents, skirmishes along the Chaun and Tumen rivers, reconnaissance sorties, and the complex diplomacy of Moscow, Tokyo, and peripheral actors to trace how risk escalated from routine patrols to calibrated leverage. On the ground, terrain functioned as both obstacle and argument: ridges like Changkufeng Hill shaping sightlines, river valleys shaping decisions, and markers weathered by snow, wind, and drift. In command tents, officers translated terrain into doctrine: contingency plans, supply routes, and the precarious calculus of restraint versus escalation. Both nations sought to establish firmer defensive barriers against the other. Inevitably they were destined to clash, but how large that clash would become, nobody knew.   #176 The Changkufeng Incident 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. In the last episode we broke down a general history of the Soviet-Japanese Border Conflict and how it escalated significantly by 1938. Colonel Inada Masazum serving as chief of the 2nd Operations Section within the Operations Bureau in March of 1938 would play a significant role in this story. When the Japanese command's attention was drawn to the area of Changkufeng, consideration was given to the ownership and importance of the disputed high ground. Inada and his operations section turned to an appraisal of the geography. The officers had been impressed by the strategic importance of the Tumen, which served to cut off the hill country from North Korea. In the Changkufeng area, the river was a muddy 600 to 800 meters wide and three to five meters deep. Japanese engineers had described rowing across the stream as "rather difficult."  Russian roads on the left bank were very good, according to Japanese intelligence. Heavy vehicles moved easily; the Maanshan section comprised the Russians' main line of communications in the rear. To haul up troops and materiel, the Russians were obliged to use trucks and ships, for there were no railways apart from a four-kilometer line between the harbor and town of Novokievsk. Near Changkufeng, hardly any roadways were suitable for vehicular traffic. On the right, or Korean, bank of the Tumen, there were only three roads suitable for vehicular traffic, but even these routes became impassable after a day or two of rain. In the sector between Hill 52 to the south and Shachaofeng to the north, the most pronounced eminences were Chiangchunfeng and the humps of Changkufeng. Rocky peaks were characteristically shaped like inverted T's, which meant many dead angles against the crests. The gentle slopes would allow tanks to move but would restrict their speed, as would the ponds and marshes. In general, the terrain was treeless and afforded little cover against aircraft. Against ground observation or fire, corn fields and tall miscanthus grass could provide some shielding. Between Chiangchunfeng and the Tumen, which would have to serve as the main route of Japanese supply, the terrain was particularly sandy and hilly. This rendered foot movement difficult but would reduce the effectiveness of enemy bombs and shells. The high ground east of Khasan afforded bases for fire support directed against the Changkufeng region. Plains characterized the rest of the area on the Soviet side, but occasional streams and swamps could interfere with movement of tanks and trucks. The only towns or villages were Novokievsk, Posyet, Yangomudy, and Khansi. At Kozando there were a dozen houses; at Paksikori, a few. The right bank was farmed mainly by Koreans, whose scattered cottages might have some value for billeting but offered none for cover. On the left bank, the largest hamlets were Fangchuanting, with a population of 480 dwelling in 73 huts, and Yangkuanping, where there were 39 cottages. Shachaofeng was uninhabited. Japanese occupation of Changkufeng would enable observation of the plain stretching east from Posyet Bay, although intelligence made no mention of Soviet naval bases, submarine pens, or airstrips in the immediate area of Posyet, either in existence or being built in 1938. As Inada knew, the Japanese Navy judged that Posyet Bay might have another use, as a site for Japanese landing operations in the event of war. In Russian hands, the high ground would endanger the Korean railway. This line, which started from Najin in northeastern Korea, linked up with the vital system in Manchuria at the town of Tumen and provided a short cut, if not a lifeline, between Japan and the Kwantung Army and Manchuria from across the Sea of Japan. Even from relatively low Changkufeng, six or seven miles of track were exposed to Soviet observation between Hongui and Shikai stations. The port of Najin, with its fortress zone, lay 11 miles southwest; Unggi lay even nearer. It was not the danger of Japanese shelling of Vladivostok, at an incredible range of 80 miles that was at stake but the more realistic hypothesis of Russian shelling of the rail line, and Russian screening of the Soviet side of the border. Hills and questions were thought to have two sides. It was the consensus of Japanese that Changkufeng Hill's potential value to the Russians far outweighed its possible benefits to them, or at least that the Japanese had more to lose if the Russians took the high ground by the Tumen. Inada nurtured few illusions concerning the intrinsic value of the heights. Despite the fact that the high command always had good reasons for quiescence in the north, Inada believed that the latest border difficulty could not be overlooked. By mid-July 1938 Inada's thoughts crystallized. The Japanese would conduct a limited reconnaissance in force known as iryoku teisatsu in the strategic sense. Whereas, at the tactical schoolbook level, this might mean the dispatch of small forces into enemy territory to seek local combat intelligence, at the Imperial General Headquarters level the concept was far more sweeping. There would also be useful evidence of mobilization and other buildup procedures. The affair at Changkufeng was merely a welcome coincidence, something started by the Russians but liable to Japanese exploration. Inada had no intention of seizing territory, of becoming involved in a war of attrition at a remote and minor spot, or of provoking hostilities against the USSR. The Russians would comprehend the nature of the problem, too. If they were interested in interfering seriously with the Japanese, there were numberless better locations to cause trouble along the Manchurian front; those were the places to watch. The cramped Changkufeng sector, described as "narrow like a cat's brow," could too readily be pinched off from Hunchun to render it of strategic value to either side. The bog land to the north interfered with the use of armored forces, while artillery sited on the heights along the Tumen in Korea could as easily control the area as batteries emplaced east of the lake. It was Inada's professional opinion that the Russians could commit three or four infantry divisions there at most, with no mechanized corps—no heavy tanks, in particular. No decisive battle could be waged, although, once the Russians became involved, they might have to cling to the hill out of a sense of honor. The military action would be meaningless even if the Japanese let the Russians have the heights. For their part, the Japanese would ostensibly be fighting to secure the boundary and to hold Changkufeng peak, beyond which they would not move a step onto Soviet soil. There would be no pursuit operations. Troop commitment would be limited to about one division without tank support. Japanese Air Force intervention would be forbidden. Matters would be directed entirely by Imperial General Headquarters working through the Korea Army chain of command and carried out by the local forces. Calm, clear, and dispassionate overall estimates and instructions would be based on materials available only in Tokyo. The command would not allow the Kwantung Army to touch the affair. Inada foresaw that the Japanese government might also seek a settlement through diplomacy. Although border demarcation was desirable and should be sought, the command would not insist on it, nor would it demand permanent occupation of Changkufeng summit. As soon as reconnaissance objectives had been achieved, the local forces would be withdrawn. As Inada described it "In the process, we would have taught the Russians some respect and given them a lesson concerning their repeated, high-handed provocations and intrusions. If a show of force sufficed to facilitate the negotiations and cause the Russians to back down, so much the better; the affair would be over and my point proved." The instrument for carrying out Inada's strategic design appeared to be ideal, the 19th Division, strenuously trained and high-spirited. It could be expected to perform very well if unleashed within defined limits. Colonel Suetaka was just the commander to direct local operations. Since he had been pleading to fight in China, an operation at Changkufeng might prove to be an excellent "safety valve." His staff was full of experienced, fierce warriors eager for battle. Until recently, the Korea Army commanding general had wisely kept the aggressive division away from Changkufeng Hill, but now Imperial general headquarters had its own overriding ideas and needs. How could the Japanese ensure that any military action would remain limited if the Russians chose to respond with vigor? Naturally, one infantry division, without armor or air support, could not withstand all of the Soviet forces in the maritime province. Inada answered that the mission to be assigned the 19th Division was merely the recapture of Changkufeng crest. If the Japanese side had to break off the operation, evacuation would be effected voluntarily and resolutely on Imperial general headquarters responsibility, without considerations of "face." At worst, the Japanese might lose one division, but the affair would be terminated at the Tumen River without fail. "Even so, we ought to be able to prove our theory as well as demonstrate our true strength to the Russians." In case the Soviets opted for more than limited war, the Japanese were still not so overextended in China that they could not alter their strategic disposition of troops. Although the Kwantung Army's six divisions were outnumbered four to one and the Japanese were not desirous of a war at that moment, the first-class forces in Manchuria could make an excellent showing. In addition, the high command possessed armor, heavy artillery, fighters, and bombers, held in check in Manchuria and Korea, as well as reserves in the homeland. There was also the 104th Division, under tight Imperial general headquarters control, in strategic reserve in southern Manchuria. Inada recalled "How would the Russians react? That was the answer I sought. Victory in China depended on it." By mid-July, the high command, at Inada's urging, had worked out a plan titled, "Imperial General headqaurters Essentials for Dealing with the Changkufeng Incident." Tada's telegram of 14 July to Koiso described succinctly the just-decided policy: the central authorities concurred with the Korea Army's opinion regarding the Changkufeng affair, then in embryo. Considering that Changkufeng Hill posed a direct threat to the frontier of Korea, Imperial General headqaurters would immediately urge the foreign ministry to lodge a stern protest. Next day, Tojo sent a telegram stating the Japanese policy of employing diplomacy; whether the Russians should be evicted by force required cautious deliberation in case the USSR did not withdraw voluntarily. On the basis of the guidance received from Imperial General headqaurters, the Korea Army drew up its own plan, "Essentials for Local Direction of the Changkufeng Incident," on 15 July. Intelligence officer Tsuchiya Sakae was sent promptly to the front from Seoul. At the same time, military authorities allowed the press to release news that Soviet troops were constructing positions inside Manchurian territory in an "obvious provocation." The government of Manchukuo was demanding an immediate withdrawal. Even then, those Japanese most closely connected with the handling of the Changkufeng Incident were not in agreement that everybody at command level was as ardent a proponent of reconnaissance in force as Inada claimed to be. Some thought that most, if not all, of his subordinates, youthful and vigorous, were in favor of the notion; others denied the existence of such an idea. Inada remained clear-cut in his own assertions. Everything done by the local Soviet forces, he insisted, must have been effected with the permission of Moscow; it was customary for the USSR not to abandon what it had once started. The Japanese Army never really thought that the Soviet Union would withdraw just as the result of diplomatic approaches. Therefore, from the outset, preparations were made to deal the Russians one decisive blow. Inada had recommended his plan, with its clear restrictions, to his colleagues and superiors; the scheme, he says, was approved 14 July "all the way up the chain of command, through the Army general staff and the ministry of war, with unexpected ease." The only real opposition, Inada recalled, came from the navy, whose staff advised the army operations staff, in all sincerity, to give up the idea of strategic reconnaissance. Inada adhered to his opinion stubbornly. He never forgot the grave look on the face of Captain Kusaka, the UN operations section chief, as the latter gave in reluctantly. The navy view was that the Changkufeng affair typified the army's aggressive policies as opposed to relative passivity on the part of the navy. Like Kusaka, Japanese Navy interviewees shared the fear that Changkufeng might prove to be the most dangerous military confrontation ever to occur between the USSR and Japan. In view of navy objections, one wonders where Inada could have drawn support for his concept of reconnaissance in force. If one accepts the comments contained in a letter from a navy ministry captain, Takagi Sokichi, to Baron Harada Kumao at the beginning of August, in the army and in a portion of the navy there existed "shallow-minded fellows who are apt to take a firm stand in the blind belief that the USSR would not really rise against us, neglecting the fact that the Russians had foreseen our weak points." Takagi also had violent things to say about "white-livered" Gaimusho elements that were playing up to the army. Although Takagi's remarks, expressed in confidence, were sharp, cautious injunctions were being delivered by the high command to the new Korea Army commander, General Nakamura Kotaro, who was about to leave for Seoul to replace Koiso. Nakamura's attitude was crucial for the course and outcome of the Changkufeng Incident. More of a desk soldier than a warrior, he characteristic ally displayed a wariness that was reinforced by the guidance provided him. This personal quality assumes even greater significance if one believes that the Russians may have initiated the Changkufeng Incident by exploiting the special opportunities afforded them by the routine replacement of the Korea Army commander, the temporary absence from Moscow of Ambassador Shigemitsu Mamoru, and the geographical as well as subjective gap between the Kwantung and Korea armies that was exposed during the Lyushkov affair. At 10:00 on 15 July Nakamura was designated army commander by the Emperor at the palace. Soon afterward, he was briefed by Imperial General headquarters officers. Hashimoto, the operations bureau chief, recalled that when he saw Nakamura off on 17 July, Hashimoto stressed prudence, limitation of any military action, and diplomatic solution of the problem. The new commanding general, Inada asserted, promised full cooperation. There was no mention, at this level, of Inada's concept of reconnaissance in force. When Nakamura reached Seoul, he found an Imperial order from Tokyo dated 16 July awaiting him. This important document stipulated that he could concentrate units under his command in Korea near the border against the trespassing Soviet forces in the Changkufeng area. Resort to force, however, was dependent upon further orders. This message was followed by a wire from Kan'in, the Army general staff chief. The Imperial order, it was explained, had been designed to support diplomatic negotiations. Simultaneous approval was granted for concentrating forces to respond swiftly in case the situation deteriorated. As for implementation of the Imperial order, discretion should be exercised in line with the opinion expressed earlier by Korea Army Headquarters. Negotiations were to be conducted in Moscow and Harbin, the location of a Soviet consulate in Manchukuo. Meanwhile, the command was dispatching two officers for purposes of liaison: Lt. Colonel Arisue Yadoru in Operations and Major Kotani Etsuo a specialist in Soviet intelligence. Inada advised Arisue that, apart from liaison flights inside the frontiers, particular care should be exercised with regard to actions that might lead to air combat. Nevertheless, although Inada stated that the Imperial order called for "a sort of military demonstration," he admitted that it meant preparatory action for an attack. The Korea Army senior staff officer, Iwasaki, recalled hearing nothing about secret intentions. Nakamura briefed his staff about the need for restraint, especially during this key period of the Wuhan operation. Koiso had disposed of speculation that he had issued an order to concentrate the 19th Division before Nakamura arrived, although he and Nakamura did have the opportunity to confer in Seoul before he departed for Japan. The Imperial order of 16 July, in response to Koiso's inquiry received in Tokyo on 14 July, had arrived in Seoul addressed to Nakamura; thereupon, the Korea Army chief of staff, Kitano, had the message conveyed to the division. By 21 July Koiso was back in Tokyo where, the day afterward, he advised the war minister, Itagaki, "to act prudently with respect to the Changkufeng problem." Why did the high command dispatch two field-grade liaison officers to Korea from the outset of the Changkufeng Incident? The Korea Army lacked operations staff. Its commander had been allotted prime responsibility, within the chain of command, for defense of northeastern Korea. At the beginning, the highest-ranking staff officer at the front was a major. Since there were no fundamental differences of opinion between the command and the forces in Korea, it was proper to send experts from Tokyo to assist. Imperial General headqaurters would observe the situation carefully, devise measures on the basis of the overall view, and issue orders which the Korea Army would implement through ordinary channels. It had not been the type of incident which required the army commander to go to the front to direct. This was the Korea Army's first test, and political as well as diplomatic problems were involved that the army in the field should not or could not handle. If Tokyo had left decisions to the division and its regiments, the latter would have been held to account, which was not proper. Imperial General headquarters had to assume responsibility and reassure local commanders of its full support. Imaoka Yutaka explained that operational guidance by Imperial General headquarters and line operations conducted by the 19th Division formed the core of the affair; the Korea Army, placed between, was "shadowy." Koiso had not been enthusiastic; this set the mood among the staff. Nakamura, who arrived with a thorough comprehension of AGS thinking, was basically passive. The Korea Army staff, in general, included no "wild boars."    There was an urgent need to monitor developments. Not only was the Korea Army unfamiliar with handling this type of incident, but many hitches occurred. There had been no practice in emergency transmission of coded wires between the Korea Army and Tokyo. Now telegram after telegram had to be sent; most were deciphered incorrectly and many were not decoded at all. Another problem centered on the lack of knowledge in Tokyo about the situation on the spot, which only visual observation could rectify. As a result, the two Army general staff experts, Arisue and Kotani, arrived in Korea on 16 July. Kotani recalled that he was to collect intelligence and assist the local authorities. One of the first duties that he and Arisue performed was to disseminate the principle that use of force required a prior Imperial order. Also on 16 July, Japanese newspapers reported that the USSR was still concentrating troops, that the Manchukuoan government was watching intently, "decisive punitive measures" were being contemplated by the Japanese-Manchukuoan authorities, and there were signs of a worsening of the crisis. Despite good reasons for this gloomy appraisal, the Japanese press had not yet given the incident page-one treatment. More alarming news was being disseminated abroad. Domei, the official Japanese news agency, reported that the situation would probably become worse unless Soviet troops were withdrawn. The position of the Japanese government impressed foreign correspondents as unusually firm. Informants characterized the Changkufeng Incident as the most serious affair since the clash on the Amur River in 1937. Irked by the Korea Army's timidity and eager for first-hand information, the Kwantung Army dispatched two observers to the front: from Intelligence, Ogoshi Kenji, and from Operations, Tsuji Masanobu. If you listen to my pacific war week by week podcast or echoes of war, you know I highlight Tsuji Masanobu as one of the most evil Japanese officers of WW2. No other way to describe this guy, he was a shithead. In his memoirs, Tsuji asserted that he and Ogoshi climbed Changkufeng Hill, discerned Soviet soldiers digging across the peak in Manchurian territory, and concluded that "probably even Tokyo could not overlook such a clear-cut case of invasion." Although his account aligned with the general thrust, Ogoshi contended that Tsuji could not have accompanied him. According to sources with the 19th Division, when Koiso learned that Tsuji and Ogoshi were disparaging the Korea Army's ability to defend Changkufeng, he ordered "those spies" ousted. Ogoshi replied that the army staff was not angry, but Koiso did become furious and ordered Ogoshi "arrested for trespassing." Ogoshi surmised that Koiso's concern was that emotional outsiders such as Tsuji could provoke trouble, perhaps even war, if they visited Changkufeng. This view was widely shared. Inada stated that he made a practice of keeping away to maintain the degree of detachment and impartiality required of high command authorities. One sidelight to the "fraternal" visit to the Changkufeng area by observers from Hsinking was provided by Lt. Colonel Katakura Tadashi, chief of the Kwantung Army's 4th Section, which handled Manchukuo affairs, primarily political direction. When Katakura visited the Operations Section, Tsuji and Ogoshi told him that an intrusion had been confirmed and that the Kwantung Army staff was studying ways to evict the Soviets. Katakura consulted Maj. General Ishiwara Kanji, acting chief of staff, who was already in possession of the draft of an operations order calling for offensive preparations by the Kwantung Army against the Russians at Changkufeng. Katakura asked for reconsideration of the order. This was not a matter to be handled solely by the operations staff. Borders and international affairs were involved; hence the 4th Section, along with the Manchukuoan government, the Gaimusho, and other agencies, were concerned. Field observers were expressing exaggerated personal opinions based on having seen Soviet sentries on a hilltop. If the matter fell within the Korea Army's defensive prerogative, that army ought to handle it. Apparently the Kwantung Army commander and Ishiwara agreed with Katakura, for the draft order was not approved. The so-called private message dispatched by a Kwantung Army staff officer just before Koiso's departure may have been provoked by this rejection of direct participation by forces under Kwantung Army command. Staff officers in Tokyo believed that Hsinking could not see the forest for the trees. In the high command's view, the Kwantung Army's deliberate escalation of a negligible frontier incident undoubtedly stemmed from a failure to grasp the strategic requirements of national defense—pursuit of the campaign in China, the nurturance of Manchukuo, and the buildup of operational readiness for the ultimate solution of the Soviet problem. The high command felt obliged to remind the Kwantung Army that, in dealing with the Changkufeng Incident, the central authorities pressed for a Russian pullback through diplomacy. Consequently, the Korea Army had been instructed to be ready to concentrate troops near Changkufeng as a "background." Meanwhile, it remained the Imperial will that utmost prudence be exercised. The Kwantung Army commander accordingly issued cautious instructions to subordinate units, especially those on the eastern border. The high command's injunctions did not end the discontent and recrimination at the lower levels of Kwantung Army Headquarters, nor did they quiet the concern felt in Tokyo. A former war minister told Baron Harada repeatedly in late July that the Kwantung Army was "no good," while the superintendent of police added that the Kwantung Army was embarrassing Foreign Minister Ugaki. Nevertheless, the Kwantung Army did exert self-restraint. For its part, the Korea Army naïvely sought to achieve entente with an antagonist who considered the case nonnegotiable. First, the government of Manchukuo was asked to lodge a formal protest with the USSR. The commissioner for foreign affairs at Harbin phoned V. V. Kuznetzov, the acting consul, on the night of 14 July and saw him on the 18th. Basing its contentions on maps, the Haensing regime demanded Soviet withdrawal from Changkufeng. The Japanese government was lodging similar protests within the framework of Japanese-Manchukuoan joint defense agreements. On the spot, the situation inflamed. During the afternoon of 15 July, a Japanese military police patrol from Korea reconnoitered at the foot of Hill 52, southeast of Changkufeng. The party came under Soviet gunfire and was driven back, abandoning the body of Corp. Matsushima Shakuni. Japanese sources claimed that a Russian ambush had been set inside Manchuria. The Russian side insisted that it was the Soviet frontier that had been violated by thirty meters. Kuzma Grebennik, the colonel commanding the 59th BGU, which covered the Posyet sector, asserted that Matsushima's effects included a notebook containing reconnaissance results and a camera with film of Soviet-claimed terrain, particularly Changkufeng Hill. According to Maj. Gilfan Batarshin, a subordinate of Grebennik, two Russian border guards from Podgornaya opened fire when the Japanese fled after being challenged. Japanese protests to the USSR about the death of Matsushima and the taking of his body were added to the negotiations concerning the disputed border and the alleged trespassing. Charge Nishi Haruhiko lodged a vigorous complaint in Moscow on 15 July but was answered by a counterprotest. Ambassador Shigemitsu underwent an identical experience during a conversation with Foreign Commissar Maxim Litvinov on 20 July. Shigemitsu retorted that the murder tended to exacerbate the negotiations. In his memoirs, he stated that the killing of Matsushima provoked the local Japanese border garrison unit. The shooting occurred as the Soviet military buildup continued, according to Japanese sources. Mechanized units were reported moving in the direction of Kyonghun from Barabash and Posyet Bay. Biplanes were reconnoitering the Hunchun Valley, within Manchurian territory, from the afternoon of 16 July. To the local Japanese authorities, it seemed that the Russians were adopting a challenging attitude. Although the Japanese-Manchukuoan side remained willing to negotiate—that is, to take no forceful actions if the Russians would withdraw, the latter appeared not to share such an intention. The Soviets were not only misinterpreting the Hunchun treaty to their advantage but were encroaching beyond what they claimed to be the line; they "lacked sincerity." Decisive use of force might have been imperative to secure the Manchurian border, which was Japan's legal responsibility. As far north as Tungning on the eastern Manchurian frontier, two Soviet ground divisions and considerable numbers of tanks and aircraft were reported massed in full view. At Changkufeng, Russian soldiers fortified the crest. Mountain guns were now seen with muzzles pointed toward Manchuria, and Japanese intelligence estimated that Soviet troop strength near Changkufeng had grown to 120 or 130 by the evening of 18 July. As Sawamoto Rikichiro, an Imperial aide, noted in his diary, "It would seem that settlement of the affair had become increasingly difficult." Korea Army staff officer Tsuchiya sent two emissaries bearing the notice to the Soviet border. The pair, "blazing with patriotic ardor,"set out on 18 July, carrying a message in one hand and a white flag in the other. From Kyonghun came the report the next day that there had been an urgent, well-attended Soviet staff meeting at BGU Headquarters in Novokievsk all night, and that the Russian side had been discomfited by the Japanese request, which had been transmitted to higher authorities. Still, the emissaries did not return, while a stream of reports indicated a Soviet buildup along a dozen frontier sectors. Russian authorities had reportedly forced the natives to evacuate an area twenty miles behind their borders. From Japanese observation posts, Soviet convoys of men, guns, and horses could be sighted moving toward Novokievsk after being unloaded from transports originating at Vladivostok. Japanese Army Intelligence reported that on 18 July a regimental-size force had arrived at Novokievsk; artillery displacements forward were particularly visible by night east of Khasan. A confidential Gaimusho message indicated that Soviet truck movements between Posyet, Novokievsk, and the front had increased since the 20th. Russian intrusions, kidnappings, and sniping incidents were reported along the Manchurian borders, from Manchouli on the west to Suifenho on the east, between 18 and 25 July. Aircraft on daytime reconnaissance were detected as far as three miles inside Manchurian territory in the Hunchun area. Although the Japanese asserted that their forbearance was being tested, Izvestiya charged "Japanese militarists" with manufacturing an affair at Ussuri as well as at Changkufeng. The Japanese themselves received reports from the Changkufeng front that by 20 July the Soviets had 250 soldiers, armed with field pieces, trench mortars, howitzers, and light and heavy machine guns, on the southern slopes. The Russians were putting up tents capable of holding 40 men each; officers could be observed for the first time. On the evening of the 20th, the Soviets lobbed illuminating shells toward Manchurian territory. 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. Inada Masazum, studying maps and mud, saw Changkufeng Hill as a prize with peril, a test of nerve rather than a conquest. Tokyo's orders pulsed through Seoul and Harbin: guard, probe, and deter, but avoid full-scale war. Across the border, Soviet units pressed closer, lights and tents flickering on the hillside. The sea within sight whispered of strategy, diplomacy, and a warning: a single misstep could redraw Asia. And so the standoff waited, patient as winter.

With Imperial Japan's military panicking over the oil embargo from the United States, the leaders of the Empire of Japan decided to respond by launching one of the most famous and deadliest surprise attacks in history.Support the show My latest novel, "Califia's Crusade," is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Bookshop.org, and many other online platforms!

The unrelenting ferocity of the Pacific War was without a doubt the bloodiest and most savage of the two theaters of World War II. The memories of brutal battles like Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Midway and Iwo Jima are forever seared into minds of the courageous men who fought there. The island of Guadalcanal represented one of the last chances for the Allies to turn back the Japanese advance in the Pacific. Marine veteran Victor Croizat experienced the "hell of earth" of the battle for Guadalcanal. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hey guys before you listen to this one, do realize this is part 4 on a series about General Kanji Ishiwara, so if you have not already done so I would recommend listening to Part 1-2-3.    This episode is General Kanji Ishiwara part 4: Ishiwara vs Hideki Tojo So I promised this would be the last one and it is, rest assured. Sheesh what started as a suggested episode turned into an entire series, but then again Ishiwara Kanji was quite a figure. I recently did a podcast with Cody from AlternateHistoryHub, and at the end of the podcast he poked at me for some alternate history ideas related to the Pacific War. My first thought was what if the Triple Intervention after the Russo-Japanese War never occurred, but then I thought….hell what if Ishiwara Kanji never existed or I dunno got hit by a car. Imagine how different things would have been if not for this one, I am just gonna say it, instigator haha. Now I think when one looks at this mans life, we attribute much of the story towards the Mukden Incident and the eventual full scale China war, but thats not where it ends of course. Ishiwara did a lot during the war and after, so to close it all up lets jump back into it.   Ishiwara is now a Major General , chief of the most powerful office on the general staff. He was fighting tooth and nail to limit operations in what was the new China War. A month before everything hit the fan he declared in front of the General staff “I shall never send a single soldier to China as long as I live”. But in mid-June of 1937 rumors emerged that the China garrison was planning another incident in the Beijing area, similar to Ishiwara's famous Mukden incident of September 1931. Two weeks later the Marco Polo Bridge incident occurred on July 7th. The Japanese army were divided on the issue. There was the expansionists who sought to smash China in a single blow and the non-expansionists who sought to settle everything between their nations before the conflict became too large. Ishiwara was on the side of the non-expansionists and from the earliest hours of the war he directed a losing fight to try and localize the conflict. Fight as he must to stop mobilization of further forces, he was forced to relent multiple times and to his horror the conflict grew and grew. Ishiwara's efforts or some would say meddling, ironically made things worse for the non-expansionists. Some of the expansionists would go on the record to state Ishiwara bungled the situation, years after the China incident, Colonel Shibayama would say with bitterness “The idea that Ishiawara Kanji opposed the expansion of the China incident is nonsense. If he really had opposed it he wouldn't have agreed to the mobilization. There were certainly other ways of solving the problem” Ishiwara was stuck between a rock and a hard place. While he wanted to stop the mobilization of more forces to China, the men at the front kept sending reports that Japanese citizens were underthreat in areas like Beijing, his wrists were turned as they say. Ishiwara did not cave in without a fight however, as I said in the last episode he turned to Prime Minister Konoe to strike a deal with Chiang Kai-shek, and Konoe nearly did, but at the last minute he canceled his flight to Nanking.   When the North China incident saw action spring up in Shanghai, it then became officially the China incident and Ishiwara attempted once more to push for a peace settlement in September. However by that point Ishiwara's influence had dropped considerably, few in the Operations division were still following his lead. Many of the expansionists began to bemoan Ishiwara as nothing more than a nuisance. Prince Sainji would go on the record telling Konoe “Ishiwara is like a candly in the wind ready to be snuffed out at any moment”. By late september Ishiwara was removed from the General staff by General Tada. The expansionists had won the day. There were other non-expansionists like Horiba Kazuo and Imai Takeo who carried on fighting the non-expansionist cause, but in january of 1938 Konoe decalred the Japanese government would not treat with Chiang Kai-shek. It was the nail in the coffin.   The war escalted, by 1938 24 divisions were tossed into China, in 1939 it would be 34 bogged down. The IJA was without mobilization divisions and less than half the ammunition necessary for the 15 divisions assigned to the borders with the USSR and that critical weakness became only to apparent with two border clashes in 1938 and 1939. To Ishiwara it was all too predicatable, he had continuously argued the folly of a China War. He lectured about how it was impossible to conquer China “China is like an earthworm. Cut it in two and it will still keep on wriggling”. Ishiwara believed China's territory and self-sufficiency built upon its masses would always make up for Japanese military might. Ishiwara unlike his colleagues believed Japan was not capable of dealing a knock out blow against China. He would criticize many for promoting the idea stating “those who excite the public by claims of victory, just because the army has captured some out of the way little area, do so only to coneal their own incompetence as they squander the nation's power in an unjustified war”.   In the fall of 1937 Ishiwara found himself back in mainland Asia with an appointed as the vice chief of staff of the Kwantung army. But he came back with a scarred reputation now, for his non-expansionist fight earned him a lot of scorn. All of his ideas of a political independent and racially equal Manchukuo in 1932 had all but disappeared. The Japanese military and civilians occupied all important positions in the puppet state. The Kwantung army authorities, particularly that of Hideki Tojo wgo was at the time a provost marshal in Manchuria had taken a stern line against any efforts to revive East Asian League or their ideals. So when Ishiwara arrived, he quickly realized his influence had deminished significantly. None the less he took up his old cause trying to work with the barely relavent Concordia association, but they were fighting against Tojo who received a promotion to chief of staff in Manchuria in March. Tojo was now Ishiwara's superior, it was a hopeless cause, but Ishiwara persisted.    Ishiwara began insisting the Kwantung army must step asie to allow for self-government to reing over Manchuria. He argued Japan's special holdings in Manchuria should be turned over to the Manchukuo government and that the Concordia association should act as a guiding source. He also pointed out how dangerous the USSR was too Manchuria and that Japan must increase its forces in the border areas of Manchuria. For all of this he recommended a solution would be a Asian union, that if Manchukuo flourished under racial equality and harmony, perhaps it would show the rest of China Sino-Japanese cooperation was possible and maybe China would join an East Asian league. Ishiwara would continously hammer the idea, that the solution to the China war was to create an effective east asian league. With China in the fold, they would have unrivaled airpower, a prime element in his preparation for the Final War. Not a single one of his arguments were given any consideration.   Ontop of his radical ideas, Ishiwara also advised reducing salaries for Japanese officials in Manchuria and was as you can imagine denounced quickly by his colleagues for this. Then Ishiwara found out Tojo was embezzling Kwantung army funds to the officers wives club, a pet project of Mrs Tojo. So Ishiwara went ahead by pointing out Tojo's corruption and added a large insult by suggesting Tojo had the mentality of a mere sergeant. In a public speech at the Concordia association infront of a mixed Japanese/manchurian audience he tore into many of his colleagues like General Hashimoto Toranosuke who was an honorary president of said association and Ishiwara said “he did nothing but sit around and draw a high salary, setting a disgraceful example to junior officers”. So yeah Ishiwara soon found himself very very isolated in the Kwantung army staff. Tojo received a promotion to vice minister of war in May of 1938, with the support of notable expansionist types. As for Ishiwara he had became quite a headache to his colleagues. Depressed and disgusted with the situation, Ishiwara decided to quit the army before he was tossed out. He first tried to apply at the war ministry to be placed on the reserve list but was told the matter required approval of the minister of war. At that time, it was actually his old buddy Itagaki Seishiro as minister of war. While the decision was being made, Ishiwara was authorized to return to Japan, but when he did the Kwantung army inisted he had departed without authorization to do so, basically arguing he just walked away from his desk one day.   Itagaki made no move to summon Ishiwara once he was back in Tokyo, but Tojo as vice minister got wind of the situation and was all too eager to pounce. It turned out Tojo had Kenpeitai waching Ishiwara and some of his closest colleagues for awhile and he chose this moment to haul Ishiwara up for military indiscipline. The case against Ishiwara was quite a controversy and in the end all Itagaki could do for his old friend was get him an command over the Maizuru fortress area on Japan's seacost of Kyoto prefecture. The day before the orders were posted, Tojo managed to toss one last punch at Ishiwara. He order his Kenpeitai friend, special service commander Colonel Otani Keijiro to carry out a lightning raid on the Tokyo offices of the Concordia Association which saw the arrests of some of Ishiwara's close colleagues.   1939-1941 marked a terrible time for Ishiwara's military career, but he did take the time to build more so upon his Final War theory, the national defense state, the Showa restoration and the East Asian league. Ishiwara's lackluster Maizuru assignment was a quite backwater, not demanding much attention. During his leisure time he came to the conclussion based on his analysis of military history with some fresh readings of Buddhist texts that the Final War was destined to break out within the next 40 years or so. On March 10th of 1939 he made an address to the Concordia association in Toyko “a concept of world war “sekai sensokan”. He stated based on his analysis that Japan had to prepare for the final war because “world conflict is now in the semifinal round and it is for this reason that the necessity has arrived for an east asian league”. In August of 1939 Itagaki resigned as war minister to take up a position on on the chief of staff in the China expeditionary army which was then grinding to a halt. But before he did so, he made one of his final acts as war minister to give Ishiwara command of the 16th reserve division in Kyoto.   It was not a frontline position, but it was an important one, as the Kyoto command was notable for developing infantry tactics. Japan had just received some major defeats to the USSR at the battle of Lake Khasan and Khalkhin Gol so Ishiwara went to work developing some anti soviet tactics. This led to some infiltration techniques that would see application with the IJA during the early battles of the Pacific War. But despite his work on tactics, what really consumed his mind was pressing for the East Asian League. He argued a Showa restoration needed to happen, like the Meiji restoration, but this new one would be pan-asian, to face the west. In May of 1940 he put all of his arguments together in a public address that gained fame under the title “on the final war”. It was here he unleashed two decades of his thoughts into the Japanese public. He added some new features to his theories such as a “the world had entered a second industrial revolution”. He pointed out German had pioneered in the field of electrochemistry, producing energy for both industrial production and weapons of war. Such discoveries he argued would permit Asian nations to catch up and eventually overtake the west in productive and destructive power. But above all else he kept hammering the necessity for an east asian league, which required a Showa restoration to finally bring pan-asianism.   In November of 1939, as a successor to the Concordia Association, the association for an east asian league was established with its HQ in tokyo. Ishiwara was unable to officially become a member because he was part of the military, but he was an unofficial advisor and more importantly in the eyes of the public it was his association. By 1941 the association blew up to 100,000 members, mostly ex-soldiers, businessmen, journalists, farmers and such. They had a monthly magazine, training courses, meetings, lectures, the works. They extensively studied Ishiwara's writings on the history of war, the Showa restoration and his Final War theory. They spent extensive resources securing bases on the asian mainland trying to recruit supporters amongst other asian peoples to create a federation. Within Japanese controlled portions of China, they propagated the concept of the East Asian league. For the small group of collaborationists in China, many were attracted to it. In February of 1941 the General China assembly for the east asian league, was established in Nanjing with Wang Jingwei as chairman. Oh Wang Jingwei…having spent so much time learning about the Warlord Era and Northern Expedition, it never surprises me this guy would cling to anything for power. The influence of the league even found its way to Chongqing, and Chiang Kai-shek allegedly declared that peace negotiations could be pursued based on some aspects of the movement. But come spring of 1941, all of the leagues efforts would be dashed by Tojo. In early 1941, Tojo as war minister began plotting against the league and its architect Ishiwara. Tojo believed the east asian league was very defeatists and antithetical to his own hard line stance on Sino-Japanese relations. It also provided his nemesis Ishiwara with a political base to generate public opposition to his government's policies. Tojo obviously thought Ishiwara would use such a thing to overthrow him, so he went to war. His first move was to put Ishiwara on the retired list in december of 1940. However Ishiwara was still a influential figure and held some considerably powerful friends like Prince Higashikuni, so he was unable to safely pull this off. Instead he chose to harass the league.    Initially Premier Konoe was backing the league, but Tojo began to pressure Konoe to take a position against it. On January 14th, the konoe cabinet stated “as it appears that they violate respect for the nation and cast a shadow on the imperial authority, theories advocating leagues of states are hereby not permitted”. Thus the east asian league became illegal. Taking the cue on the cabinets decision, the Japanese media began a running hit pieces on the league, kind of like how America works today, ompf. By february of 1941 the criticism towards the league was smashing them. All of Ishiwara's allies within the league were hit hard, some even tortured, it was a purge. For Ishiwara nothing really happened, except for the continual surveillance by the Kenpeitai. Ishiwara proceeded to vent his wrath in public speeches, pretty bold ass move if you ask me and he delivered one fiery one at Kyoto university on east asia problems where he told his audience “the enemy is not the chinese people, but rather certain Japanese. It is particularly Tojo Hideki and Umezu Yoshijiro, who, armed and pursuing their own ambition, are the enemy of Japan. As disturbers of the peace they are the enemies of the world. They should be arrested and executed”. Excuse my french, but the fucking balls on this guy haha. Ishiwara made this statement in public and at the time he was still in military service, its simply incredible he did not suffer horrible punishment after slandering the minister of war and commander of the kwantung army. Why was he not punished, well again it was awkward as he still had a cult following and going after him might see violence. Ishiwara would later state the reason he was not persecuted was because “Tojo was a coward who never had the courage to arrest me. The fact that a man like Tojo and his henchmen came to power was one reason for Japan's downfall”.    Regardless Ishiwara's public statements finally led to him being placed on the retirement list on March 1st of 1941 and yes it was 100% Tojo who pushed this. Tojo ordered the Kenpeitai to watch Ishiwara closely for weeks after his forced retirement. Ishiwara enthusiastically went into retirement as he now was fully dedicated to his four great concerns: the east asian league, the showa restoration, the national defense state and of course the final war theory.   In the meantime another league had opened up, the Greater East Asia Co-prosperity sphere and you would be forgiven to believe it was the same as the east asian league if not its successor. Both perpetuated common ideology, like racial harmony, stemming from the Concordia association. Ishiwara's concepts of national defense also found their way in the Greater east asia co-prosperity sphere. It advocated for most of the basic principals of the league, common defense, political independence and integration of economic systems. How did they differ you might ask? Well Ishiwara's east asian league did not share the formers racial superiority of the Japanese as its cornerstone. The east asian league was not built upon the premise that China was incompetent as a modern state and needed to be led. For you american listeners, its actually pretty easy to summarize the co-prosperity sphere idea, its was Japan's monroe doctrine. The east asian league had been undone by the China War and then Pacific War, leaving the co-prosperity sphere to monopolize the asian continent and it did so through brute force and undermined any chance of pan-asianism. Ishiwara sought the east asian league solely because he truly believed pan-asianism would be required to build up enough forces to fight the final war.    During his retirement Ishiwara went on lecturing in major universities, but Tojo unleashed the Kenpeitai upon him, whom often demanded he cancel a lecture or not talk about certain subjects. I guess its like Youtube today, haha. Though ever the more isolated, when the Pacific War kicked off, Ishiwara could not be fully muzzled. He did not opposed the surprise attack on pearl harbor publically, but privately he predicted Japan had begun a war it would lose, based solely on material terms. A famous thing he once said to Satomi Kishio which appears in an cooky anime called Zipang where some member of the SDF accidentally go back in time to june 4th of 1942 if you were curious, really funny premise, but anyways, Ishiwara said this “inevitably, we shall lose this war. It will be a struggle in which Japan, even though it has only a thousand yen in its pocket, plans to spend ten thousand, while the United States has a hundred thousand yen, but only needs to spend ten thousand…we simply cannot last. Japan started this war without considering its resources beforehand”. I love this passage. It's an excellent way to speak to a general public, very effective I find.   Ishiwara criticized the military for spreading themselves out too thinly in the early months of the war, dispersing countless men on small islands in the pacific. But above all else, he kept hammering the fact the China war needed to end. China was sucking up the vast majority of Japan's military resources and men, how could Japan hope to wage a war against a nation like the US when it was stuck in China? When Saipan fell in 1944, Ishiwara said all hope was lost. He believed the only possible way Japan could avoid disaster was if the USSR broke its pact with its allies and offered a settlement to Japan, but he knew that was a long shot given how anti-communist Japan was. I have to make a point here to say a LOT of Ishiwara's talk, comes postwar and feels like a “i told you so”. Ishiwara gave testimony at the Tokyo war crime trials and declared “despite its material inferiority, Japan did not need to suffer a defeat, if its strategy had been well planned and carried out”. He even made a remark to an American correspondent named Mark Gayn in 1946 stating if he held command of the forces he would have ended the war with China, consolidated Japanese defensive lines and made a proper stand.   Throughout the war, Ishiwara battled Tojo, often referring to him as a simpleton. In fact in late 1942 he arranged an audience with Tojo and told him to his face that he was too incompetent to run the nation or wage a war and that he should step down. There was a rumor Ishiwara was part of a plot to assassinate Tojo in the summer of 1944. This was a scheme hatched by some junior officers in the central HQ, and one of their members was a east asian league associate. Ishiwara was called upon to Tokyo during an investigation of the plot and as much as Tojo and his team tried to find evidence of his involvement, they were unable to nail him. The Kenpeitai chased after Ishiwara until Tojo's regime collapsed.    By the end of the war, Ishiwara was asked by Prince Higashikuni if he could join the “surrender cabinet' as an advisor. Ishiwara declined on the grounds he wanted to be unsullied by Japans defeat.    It should be noted again, Ishiwara was a man of countless contradictions. While he was one of the first to be outspoken against the Pacific War and predicted Japan's defeat, during the end half of the way he got really caught up in the war fever. For example in 1944 he began stating Japan needed to prepare to “shed the blood of a million lives in the south seas in a do or die battle”. He also had this blind faith that a German victory in Europe would turn the tide of the war in the east. He said of Hitler in 1944 “he is the greatest hero in Europe since Napoleon”. Some argue his later public stances were the result of him not being in the military and thus he had to conform to the wartime propaganda to get his message across to the general public. He also began linking concepts of the east asian league to the greater east asian co-prosperity sphere, which is quite the contradiction. Again personally I see him as a fence sitter, he loved to always have a backdoor in his arguments.   One major thing that he faced during the Pacific War, was trying to explain to his followers, the current war was not the Final War. As he stated publicly in February of 1942 “Many people think that the greater east asian war is the final war. Nothing could be further from the truth… the greater east asian war is the grand rehearsal for the final war. In other words, it will lead to the liberation of east asia and the establishment of an east asian league and will provide to the league the necessary material and strategic base for the final war”. Well the failure of the China War, Pacific War, the complete military collapse of Japan, the take over of communism in mainland asia, the emerging cold war….I guess that all kind of ruined his final war theory.    With Japan's defeat looming in 1944, Ishiwara began to shift his focus towards a reconstruction effort. He began as early as 1944 to talk about what would happen to Japan. He predicted she would lose much overseas territory, her cities would be in ruins, her people would be starving. He turned his attention to agriculture, how could food production be increased, he became particularly interested in fertilizers. By the end of the war he gathered a farming community to discuss how things could be improved. When the surrender proclamation was made, he began to ponder the meaning of his life's work. After the emperor made his speech, Ishiwara gathered his followers to speak to them about how Japan could regain world power and thus keep his theory intact. Ishiwara had many ideas going forward about how Japan could take a positive footing. He advocated Japan dismantle the remnants of its bureaucratic despotism, abolition the special police force, apologize to the global community for war crimes, but he also argued America needed to answer for her war crimes as well. He especially pointed fingers at President Truman for two atomic bombs and that efforts needed to be made to use bombings to lessen Japan's punishment. Ishiwara also argued Japan should gain sympathy from asia so their former enemies could come together to form an east asian league.   Emperor Hirohito proclaimed the surrender and abolition of all stocks of war materials, and Ishiwara said that was fine because he believed the final war would require new armaments that would be completely different from what existed. He predicted the future wars would be more scientific, fought with decisive weapons developed in laboratories that did not require large organized military forces. He thought perhaps a small body of underground scientists could create terrible new weapons to prepare for the Final War, thats a terrifying idea. In autumn of 1945, Ishiwara found himself in the limelight again. His lectures had made him a viable alternative to the Tojo regime during the last year of the war and his reputation as an opponent and victim of said regime made him special. Many journalists, both Japanese and American came flooding to him followed by a legion of followers who were unable to publicly come forward during the Tojo years.   Ishiwara took advantage of this new situation to make some very large speeches. He spoke about how the Tojo clique was the reason for Japan's defeat, how they all needed to establish a new Japan. He brought out the usual theories he had spoke about for years, and argued the necessity for national reconstruction to prepare for the final war. However he changed his argument a bit, stating while Japan had military been crushed, it now must prepare for the final war by building the highest culture. In this new age, Japan needed to obtain supremacy in fields of science, because he now believed that was the new power. “A single laboratory, a single factory, or perhaps a single man working alone will make the most fantastic discovery that will make war decisive”. He would continue to make speeches throughout 1945, but come 1946 the high authority, one Emperor Douglas MacArthur, haha sorry I had to say it, General MacArthur stamped down on any Japanese leader, especially former military leaders. So Ishiwara had a few months of fame, but then he found himself yet again purged, though not arrested. Alongside this came a ban on the East Asian League association.    Ishiwara was then incapacitated by illness, something that plagued his life. His condition became so bad he required surgery in Tokyo. In April of 1946 he was interviewed by American correspondent Mark Gayn who left with a very memorable impression of the man, he had this to say “ Ishiwara received us in his small room, whose window frames were still buckled from bomb explosions. He is a lean man with a deeply tanned face, close shaven head and hard, unblinking eyes. He was sitting Japanese style on his cot, his hands in his lap. Even in a shapeless gown of yellow silk, his body looked straight as a steel rod… We asked Ishiwara just two questions: what of Japan in defeat and what of himself? He answered readily and at length, in a sharp firm voice. He talked like a man who believed every word he said”. Ishiwara told his life story, the Mukden incident, the China war escalation, his feud with Tojo all of his failed attempts with the East Asian League.    In 1947 Ishiwara was put on a list of those Japanese who were purged from public life. He was extremely bitter about this and at the same time he was called as a defense witness in the Tokyo War Crimes Trials. Ishiwara was too sick to travel to Tokyo, so a special military court was convened in Sakata city. He made his deposition in front of 50 people, talking about his role in the Mukden incident and China War. He stated President Truman should be indicted for the atomic bombs and firebombing campaigns and turned upon his American audience about the denunciation for Japanese expansionism. “Havent you ever heard of Perry? Don't you know anything about your country's history? Tokugawa Japan believed in isolation; it didnt want to have anything to do with other countries, and had its doors locked tightly. Then along came Perry from your country in his black ships to open those doors; he aimed his big guns at Japan and warned that ‘if you don't deal with us, look out for these; open your doors, and negotiate with other countries too'. And then when Japan did open its doors and tried dealing with other countries, it learned that all those countries were a fearfully aggressive lot. And so for its own defense it took your country as its teacher and set about learning how to be aggressive. You might saw we became your disciples. Why dont you subpoena Perry from the other world and try him as a war criminal?”    In November of 1948 Ishiwara declared on a home recorded video “we must utterly cast war aside. We must firmly avoid questions of interest and advantage and judge our national policy purely on a spirit of righteousness…Japan may be devastated, but we must live by a complete rejection of war. The nation must compose itself like Nichiren at Takenoguchi or Christ on his war to the crucifixion”. It seems Ishiwara at the very end gave up on his theories, and supported Japan attaining a permanent peace. That last years of his life were spent in constant pain due to his illness. In 1949 he contracted a fatal case of pneumonia and realizing he was going to die, dictated a message that summed up all his speculation in the recent years on Japan and its future. The document was originally done in English and directed at General Douglas MacArthur. A month after Ishiwara's death, a Japanese version came out titled “the course for a new Japan / Shin Nihon no Shinro”. The primary purpose of the document was to get MacArthur to lift the ban on the east asia league, but it was also a last apologia. He talked about how Germany, the USSR, Italy and Japan had started on the path of state control, and they all fell prey to group despotism, because all decisions were being made by a few men in the center. He argued Britain's socialist government, the United States New Deal and Marshall plan were great example of a good control system. He argued pure liberalism no longer existed anywhere, not even in the US, yet the US was trying to make Japan a liberal nation. He argued all nations should be allowed to move ahead freely. To end it all of he said this as well “I realize now in my predictions concerning a final war between the east and west I was supremely overconfident and that the facts have proven my wrong. I fear that the real final conflict may be the United States and USSR”   At the age of 61 Ishiwara died in August of 1949, in a small house with some of his followers gathered around him. He said to them before dying he was glad to die at the same age as Nichiren

In this episode I spoke with author Stephen L. Moore about his book "Fighting Fifteen: The Navy's Top Ace and the Deadliest Hellcat Squadron of the Pacific War". The inspiring, action-packed tale of VF-15, the elite group of U.S. Navy “top gun” pilots that destroyed more enemy planes than any other Pacific War squadron. Out on Tuesday, November 18, 2025. Doug Hess is the hos and producer. 

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.

The National Museum of the Pacific War invites the public to its annual Veterans Day Commemoration on Tuesday, Nov. 11, beginning at 11 a.m. This special event — free and open to the public — will be held in the Memorial Courtyard of the museum, located at 311 E. Austin St. in Fredericksburg. The commemoration honors the men and women who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces and recognizes their courage, sacrifice, and enduring commitment to freedom. This year's keynote address will be delivered by Brig. Gen. Kevin Jarrard, commanding general of the 4th Marine Division. A 1995 graduate...Article Link

Last time we spoke about the fall of Wuhan. In a country frayed by war, the Yangtze became a pulsing artery, carrying both hunger and hope. Chiang Kai-shek faced a brutal choice: defend Wuhan to the last man, or flood the rivers to buy time. He chose both, setting sullen floodwaters loose along the Yellow River to slow the invaders, a temporary mercy that spared some lives while ripping many from their homes. On the river's banks, a plethora of Chinese forces struggled to unite. The NRA, fractured into rival zones, clung to lines with stubborn grit as Japanese forces poured through Anqing, Jiujiang, and beyond, turning the Yangtze into a deadly corridor. Madang's fortifications withstood bombardment and gas, yet the price was paid in troops and civilians drowned or displaced. Commanders like Xue Yue wrestled stubbornly for every foothold, every bend in the river. The Battle of Wanjialing became a symbol: a desperate, months-long pincer where Chinese divisions finally tightened their cordon and halted the enemy's flow. By autumn, the Japanese pressed onward to seize Tianjiazhen and cut supply lines, while Guangzhou fell to a ruthless blockade. The Fall of Wuhan loomed inevitable, yet the story remained one of fierce endurance against overwhelming odds.   #174 The Changsha Fire 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. In the summer of 1938, amid the upheaval surrounding Chiang Kai-shek, one of his most important alliances came to an end. On June 22, all German advisers to the Nationalist government were summoned back; any who refused would be deemed guilty of high treason. Since World War I, a peculiar bond had tied the German Weimar Republic and China: two fledgling states, both weak and only partially sovereign. Under the Versailles Treaty of 1919, Germany had lost extraterritorial rights on Chinese soil, which paradoxically allowed Berlin to engage with China as an equal partner rather than a traditional colonizer. This made German interests more welcome in business and politics than those of other Western powers. Chiang's military reorganization depended on German officers such as von Seeckt and von Falkenhausen, and Hitler's rise in 1933 had not immediately severed the connection between the two countries. Chiang did not share Nazi ideology with Germany, but he viewed Berlin as a potential ally and pressed to persuade it to side with China rather than Japan as China's principal East Asian, anti-Communist partner. In June 1937, H. H. Kung led a delegation to Berlin, met Hitler, and argued for an alliance with China. Yet the outbreak of war and the Nationalists' retreat to Wuhan convinced Hitler's government to align with Japan, resulting in the recall of all German advisers. Chiang responded with a speech praising von Falkenhausen, insisting that "our friend's enemy is our enemy too," and lauding the German Army's loyalty and ethics as a model for the Chinese forces. He added, "After we have won the War of Resistance, I believe you'll want to come back to the Far East and advise our country again." Von Falkenhausen would later become the governor of Nazi-occupied Belgium, then be lauded after the war for secretly saving many Jewish lives. As the Germans departed, the roof of the train transporting them bore a prominent German flag with a swastika, a prudent precaution given Wuhan's vulnerability to air bombardment. The Japanese were tightening their grip on the city, even as Chinese forces, numbering around 800,000, made a stubborn stand. The Yellow River floods blocked northern access, so the Japanese chose to advance via the Yangtze, aided by roughly nine divisions and the might of the Imperial Navy. The Chinese fought bravely, but their defenses could not withstand the superior technology of the Japanese fleet. The only substantial external aid came from Soviet pilots flying aircraft bought from the USSR as part of Stalin's effort to keep China in the war; between 1938 and 1940, some 2,000 pilots offered their services. From June 24 to 27, Japanese bombers relentlessly pounded the Madang fortress along the Yangtze until it fell. A month later, on July 26, Chinese defenders abandoned Jiujiang, southeast of Wuhan, and its civilian population endured a wave of atrocities at the hands of the invaders. News of Jiujiang's fate stiffened resolve. Chiang delivered a pointed address to his troops on July 31, arguing that Wuhan's defense was essential and that losing the city would split the country into hostile halves, complicating logistics and movement. He warned that Wuhan's defense would also be a spiritual test: "the place has deep revolutionary ties," and public sympathy for China's plight was growing as Japanese atrocities became known. Yet Chiang worried about the behavior of Chinese soldiers. He condemned looting as a suicidal act that would destroy the citizens' trust in the military. Commanders, he warned, must stay at their posts; the memory of the Madang debacle underscored the consequences of cowardice. Unlike Shanghai, Wuhan had shelters, but he cautioned against retreating into them and leaving soldiers exposed. Officers who failed in loyalty could expect no support in return. This pep talk, combined with the belief that the army was making a last stand, may have slowed the Japanese advance along the Yangtze in August. Under General Xue Yue, about 100,000 Chinese troops pushed back the invaders at Huangmei. At Tianjiazhen, thousands fought until the end of September, with poison gas finally forcing Japanese victory. Yet even then, Chinese generals struggled to coordinate. In Xinyang, Li Zongren's Guangxi troops were exhausted; they expected relief from Hu Zongnan's forces, but Hu instead withdrew, allowing Japan to capture the city without a fight. The fall of Xinyang enabled Japanese control of the Ping-Han railway, signaling Wuhan's doom. Chiang again spoke to Wuhan's defenders, balancing encouragement with a grim realism about possible loss. Although Wuhan's international connections were substantial, foreign aid would be unlikely. If evacuation became necessary, the army should have a clear plan, including designated routes. He recalled the disastrous December retreat from Nanjing, where "foreigners and Chinese alike turned it into an empty city." Troops had been tired and outnumbered; Chiang defended the decision to defend Nanjing, insisting the army had sacrificed itself for the capital and Sun Yat-sen's tomb. Were the army to retreat again, he warned, it would be the greatest shame in five thousand years of Chinese history. The loss of Madang was another humiliation. By defending Wuhan, he argued, China could avenge its fallen comrades and cleanse its conscience; otherwise, it could not honor its martyrs. Mao Zedong, observing the situation from his far-off base at Yan'an, agreed strongly that Chiang should not defend Wuhan to the death. He warned in mid-October that if Wuhan could not be defended, the war's trajectory would shift, potentially strengthening the Nationalists–Communists cooperation, deepening popular mobilization, and expanding guerrilla warfare. The defense of Wuhan, Mao argued, should drain the enemy and buy time to advance the broader struggle, not become a doomed stalemate. In a protracted war, some strongholds might be abandoned temporarily to sustain the longer fight. The Japanese Army captured Wuchang and Hankou on 26 October and captured Hanyang on the 27th, which concluded the campaign in Wuhan. The battle had lasted four and a half months and ended with the Nationalist army's voluntary withdrawal. In the battle itself, the Japanese army captured Wuhan's three towns and held the heartland of China, achieving a tactical victory. Yet strategically, Japan failed to meet its objectives. Imperial Headquarters believed that "capturing Hankou and Guangzhou would allow them to dominate China." Consequently, the Imperial Conference planned the Battle of Wuhan to seize Wuhan quickly and compel the Chinese government to surrender. It also decreed that "national forces should be concentrated to achieve the war objectives within a year and end the war against China." According to Yoshiaki Yoshimi and Seiya Matsuno, Hirohito authorized the use of chemical weapons against China by specific orders known as rinsanmei. During the Battle of Wuhan, Prince Kan'in Kotohito transmitted the emperor's orders to deploy toxic gas 375 times between August and October 1938. Another memorandum uncovered by Yoshimi indicates that Prince Naruhiko Higashikuni authorized the use of poison gas against the Chinese on 16 August 1938. A League of Nations resolution adopted on 14 May condemned the Imperial Japanese Army's use of toxic gas. Japan's heavy use of chemical weapons against China was driven by manpower shortages and China's lack of poison gas stockpiles to retaliate. Poison gas was employed at Hankou in the Battle of Wuhan to break Chinese resistance after conventional assaults had failed. Rana Mitter notes that, under General Xue Yue, approximately 100,000 Chinese troops halted Japanese advances at Huangmei, and at the fortress of Tianjiazhen, thousands fought until the end of September, with Japanese victory secured only through the use of poison gas. Chinese generals also struggled with coordination at Xinyang; Li Zongren's Guangxi troops were exhausted, and Hu Zongnan's forces, believed to be coming to relieve them, instead withdrew. Japan subsequently used poison gas against Chinese Muslim forces at the Battle of Wuyuan and the Battle of West Suiyuan. However, the Chinese government did not surrender with the loss of Wuhan and Guangzhou, nor did Japan's invasion end with Wuhan and Guangzhou's capture. After Wuhan fell, the government issued a reaffirmation: "Temporary changes of advance and retreat will not shake our resolve to resist the Japanese invasion," and "the gain or loss of any city will not affect the overall situation of the war." It pledged to "fight with even greater sorrow, greater perseverance, greater steadfastness, greater diligence, and greater courage," dedicating itself to a long, comprehensive war of resistance. In the Japanese-occupied rear areas, large armed anti-Japanese forces grew, and substantial tracts of territory were recovered. As the Japanese army themselves acknowledged, "the restoration of public security in the occupied areas was actually limited to a few kilometers on both sides of the main transportation lines." Thus, the Battle of Wuhan did not merely inflict a further strategic defeat on Japan; it also marked a turning point in Japan's strategic posture, from offense to defense. Due to the Nationalist Army's resolute resistance, Japan mobilized its largest force to date for the attack, about 250,000 personnel, who were replenished four to five times over the battle, for a total of roughly 300,000. The invaders held clear advantages in land, sea, and air power and fought for four and a half months. Yet they failed to annihilate the Nationalist main force, nor did they break the will to resist or the army's combat effectiveness. Instead, the campaign dealt a severe blow to the Japanese Army's vitality. Japanese-cited casualties totaled 4,506 dead and 17,380 wounded for the 11th Army; the 2nd Army suffered 2,300 killed in action, 7,600 wounded, and 900 died of disease. Including casualties across the navy and the air force, the overall toll was about 35,500. By contrast, the Nationalist Government Military Commission's General Staff Department, drawing on unit-level reports, calculated Japanese casualties at 256,000. The discrepancy between Japanese and Nationalist tallies illustrates the inflationary tendencies of each side's reporting. Following Wuhan, a weakened Japanese force confronted an extended front. Unable to mount large-scale strategic offensives, unlike Shanghai, Xuzhou, or Wuhan itself, the Japanese to a greater extent adopted a defensive posture. This transition shifted China's War of Resistance from a strategic defensive phase into a strategic stalemate, while the invaders found themselves caught in a protracted war—a development they most disliked. Consequently, Japan's invasion strategy pivoted: away from primary frontal offensives toward a greater reliance on political inducements with secondary military action, and toward diverting forces to "security" operations behind enemy lines rather than pushing decisive frontal campaigns. Japan, an island nation with limited strategic resources, depended heavily on imports. By the time of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, Japan's gold reserves,including reserves for issuing banknotes, amounted to only about 1.35 billion yen. In effect, Japan's currency reserves constrained the scale of the war from the outset. The country launched its aggression while seeking an early solution to the conflict. To sustain its war of aggression against China, the total value of military supplies imported from overseas in 1937 reached approximately 960 million yen. By June of the following year, for the Battle of Wuhan, even rifles used in training were recalled to outfit the expanding army. The sustained increase in troops also strained domestic labor, food, and energy supplies. By 1939, after Wuhan, Japan's military expenditure had climbed to about 6.156 billion yen, far exceeding national reserves. This stark reality exposed Japan's economic fragility and its inability to guarantee a steady supply of military materiel, increasing pressure on the leadership at the Central Command. The Chief of Staff and the Minister of War lamented the mismatch between outward strength and underlying weakness: "Outwardly strong but weak is a reflection of our country today, and this will not last long." In sum, the Wuhan campaign coincided with a decline in the organization, equipment, and combat effectiveness of the Japanese army compared with before the battle. This erosion of capability helped drive Japan to alter its political and military strategy, shifting toward a method of inflicting pressure on China and attempting to "use China to control China", that is, fighting in ways designed to sustain the broader war effort. Tragically a major element of Chiang Kai-shek's retreat strategy was the age-old "scorched earth" policy. In fact, China originated the phrase and the practice. Shanghai escaped the last-minute torching because of foreigners whose property rights were protected. But in Nanjing, the burning and destruction began with increasing zeal. What could not be moved inland, such as remaining rice stocks, oil in tanks, and other facilities, was to be blown up or devastated. Civilians were told to follow the army inland, to rebuild later behind the natural barrier of Sichuan terrain. Many urban residents complied, but the peasantry did not embrace the plan. The scorched-earth policy served as powerful propaganda for the occupying Japanese army and, even more so, for the Reds. Yet they could hardly have foreseen the propaganda that Changsha would soon supply them. In June, the Changsha Evacuation Guidance Office was established to coordinate land and water evacuation routes. By the end of October, Wuhan's three towns had fallen, and on November 10 the Japanese army captured Yueyang, turning Changsha into the next primary invasion target. Beginning on October 9, Japanese aircraft intensified from sporadic raids on Changsha to large-scale bombing. On October 27, the Changsha Municipal Government urgently evacuated all residents, exempting only able-bodied men, the elderly, the weak, women, and children. The baojia system was mobilized to go door-to-door, enforcing compliance. On November 7, Chiang Kai-shek convened a military meeting at Rongyuan Garden to review the war plan and finalize a "scorched earth war of resistance." Xu Quan, Chief of Staff of the Security Command, drafted the detailed implementation plan. On November 10, Shi Guoji, Chief of Staff of the Security Command, presided over a joint meeting of Changsha's party, government, military, police, and civilian organizations to devise a strategy. The Changsha Destruction Command was immediately established, bringing together district commanders and several arson squads. The command actively prepared arson equipment and stacked flammable materials along major traffic arteries. Chiang decided that the city of Changsha was vulnerable and either gave the impression or the direct order, honestly really depends on the source your reading, to burn the city to the ground to prevent it falling to the enemy. At 9:00 AM on November 12, Chiang Kai-shek telegraphed Zhang Zhizhong: "One hour to arrive, Chairman Zhang, Changsha, confidential. If Changsha falls, the entire city must be burned. Please make thorough preparations in advance and do not delay." And here it seems a game of broken telephone sort of resulted in one of the worst fire disasters of all time. If your asking pro Chiang sources, the message was clearly, put up a defense, once thats fallen, burn the city down before the Japanese enter. Obviously this was to account for getting civilians out safely and so forth. If you read lets call it more modern CPP aligned sources, its the opposite. Chiang intentionally ordering the city to burn down as fast as possible, but in through my research, I think it was a colossal miscommunication. Regardless Zhongzheng Wen, Minister of the Interior, echoed the message. Simultaneously, Lin Wei, Deputy Director of Chiang Kai-shek's Secretariat, instructed Zhang Zhizhong by long-distance telephone: "If Changsha falls, the entire city must be burned." Zhang summoned Feng Ti, Commander of the Provincial Capital Garrison, and Xu Quan, Director of the Provincial Security Bureau, to outline arson procedures. He designated the Garrison Command to shoulder the preparations, with the Security Bureau assisting. At 4:00 PM, Zhang appointed Xu Kun, Commander of the Second Garrison Regiment, as chief commander of the arson operation, with Wang Weining, Captain of the Social Training Corps, and Xu Quan, Chief of Staff of the Garrison Command, as deputies. At 6:00 PM, the Garrison Command held an emergency meeting ordering all government agencies and organizations in the city to be ready for evacuation at any moment. By around 10:15 PM, all urban police posts had withdrawn. Around 2:00 AM (November 13), a false report circulated that "Japanese troops have reached Xinhe" . Firefighters stationed at various locations rushed out with kerosene-fueled devices, burning everything in sight, shops and houses alike. In an instant, Changsha became a sea of flames. The blaze raged for 72 hours. The Hunan Province Anti-Japanese War Loss Statistics, compiled by the Hunan Provincial Government Statistics Office of the Kuomintang, report that the fire inflicted economic losses of more than 1 billion yuan, a sum equivalent to about 1.7 trillion yuan after the victory in the war. This figure represented roughly 43% of Changsha's total economic value at the time. Regarding casualties, contemporary sources provide varying figures. A Xinhua Daily report from November 20, 1938 noted that authorities mobilized manpower to bury more than 600 bodies, though the total number of burned remains could not be precisely counted. A Central News Agency reporter on November 19 stated that in the Xiangyuan fire, more than 2,000 residents could not escape, and most of the bodies had already been buried. There are further claims that in the Changsha Fire, more than 20,000 residents were burned to death. In terms of displacement, Changsha's population before the fire was about 300,000, and by November 12, 90% had been evacuated. After the fire, authorities registered 124,000 victims, including 815 orphans sheltered in Lito and Maosgang.  Building damage constituted the other major dimension of the catastrophe, with the greatest losses occurring to residential houses, shops, schools, factories, government offices, banks, hospitals, newspaper offices, warehouses, and cultural and entertainment venues, as well as numerous historic buildings such as palaces, temples, private gardens, and the former residences of notable figures; among these, residential and commercial structures suffered the most, followed by factories and schools. Inspector Gao Yihan, who conducted a post-fire investigation, observed that the prosperous areas within Changsha's ring road, including Nanzheng Street and Bajiaoting, were almost completely destroyed, and in other major markets only a handful of shops remained, leading to an overall estimate that surviving or stalemated houses were likely less than 20%. Housing and street data from the early post-liberation period reveal that Changsha had more than 1,100 streets and alleys; of these, more than 690 were completely burned and more than 330 had fewer than five surviving houses, accounting for about 29%, with nearly 90% of the city's streets severely damaged. More than 440 streets were not completely destroyed, but among these, over 190 had only one or two houses remaining and over 130 had only three or four houses remaining; about 60 streets, roughly 6% had 30 to 40 surviving houses, around 30 streets, 3% had 11 to 20 houses, 10 streets, 1% had 21 to 30 houses, and three streets ) had more than 30 houses remaining. Housing statistics from 1952 show that 2,538 houses survived the fire, about 6.57% of the city's total housing stock, with private houses totaling 305,800 square meters and public houses 537,900 square meters. By 1956, the surviving area of both private and public housing totaled 843,700 square meters, roughly 12.3% of the city's total housing area at that time. Alongside these losses, all equipment, materials, funds, goods, books, archives, antiques, and cultural relics that had not been moved were also destroyed.  At the time of the Changsha Fire, Zhou Enlai, then Deputy Minister of the Political Department of the Nationalist Government's Military Commission, was in Changsha alongside Ye Jianying, Guo Moruo, and others. On November 12, 1938, Zhou Enlai attended a meeting held by Changsha cultural groups at Changsha Normal School to commemorate Sun Yat-sen's 72nd birthday. Guo Moruo later recalled that Zhou Enlai and Ye Jianying were awakened by the blaze that night; they each carried a suitcase and evacuated to Xiangtan, with Zhou reportedly displaying considerable indignation at the sudden, unprovoked fire. On the 16th, Zhou Enlai rushed back to Changsha and, together with Chen Cheng, Zhang Zhizhong, and others, inspected the disaster. He mobilized personnel from three departments, with Tian Han and Guo Moruo at the forefront, to form the Changsha Fire Aftermath Task Force, which began debris clearance, care for the injured, and the establishment of soup kitchens. A few days later, on the 22nd, the Hunan Provincial Government established the Changsha Fire Temporary Relief Committee to coordinate relief efforts.  On the night of November 16, 1938, Chiang Kai-shek arrived in Changsha and, the next day, ascended Tianxin Pavilion. Sha Wei, head of the Cultural Relics Section of the Changsha Tianxin Pavilion Park Management Office, and a long-time researcher of the pavilion, explained that documentation indicates Chiang Kai-shek, upon seeing the city largely reduced to scorched earth with little left intact, grew visibly angry. After descending from Tianxin Pavilion, Chiang immediately ordered the arrest of Changsha Garrison Commander Feng Ti, Changsha Police Chief Wen Chongfu, and Commander of the Second Garrison Regiment Xu Kun, and arranged a military trial with a two-day deadline. The interrogation began at 7:00 a.m. on November 18. Liang Xiaojin records that Xu Kun and Wen Chongfu insisted their actions followed orders from the Security Command, while Feng Ti admitted negligence and violations of procedure, calling his acts unforgivable. The trial found Feng Ti to be the principal offender, with Wen Chongfu and Xu Kun as accomplices, and sentenced all three to prison terms of varying lengths. The verdict was sent to Chiang Kai-shek for approval, who was deeply dissatisfied and personally annotated the drafts: he asserted that Feng Ti, as the city's security head, was negligent and must be shot immediately; Wen Chongfu, as police chief, disobeyed orders and fled, and must be shot immediately; Xu Kun, for neglect of duty, must be shot immediately. The court then altered the arson charge in the verdict to "insulting his duty and harming the people" in line with Chiang's instructions. Chiang Kai-shek, citing "failure to supervise personnel and precautions," dismissed Zhang from his post, though he remained in office to oversee aftermath operations. Zhang Zhizhong later recalled Chiang Kai-shek's response after addressing the Changsha fire: a pointed admission that the fundamental cause lay not with a single individual but with the collective leadership's mistakes, and that the error must be acknowledged as a collective failure. All eyes now shifted to the new center of resistance, Chongqing, the temporary capital. Chiang's "Free China" no longer meant the whole country; it now encompassed Sichuan, Hunan, and Henan, but not Jiangsu or Zhejiang. The eastern provinces were effectively lost, along with China's major customs revenues, the country's most fertile regions, and its most advanced infrastructure. The center of political gravity moved far to the west, into a country the Nationalists had never controlled, where everything was unfamiliar and unpredictable, from topography and dialects to diets. On the map, it might have seemed that Chiang still ruled much of China, but vast swaths of the north and northwest were sparsely populated; most of China's population lay in the east and south, where Nationalist control was either gone or held only precariously. The combined pressures of events and returning travelers were gradually shifting American attitudes toward the Japanese incident. Europe remained largely indifferent, with Hitler absorbing most attention, but the United States began to worry about developments in the Pacific. Roosevelt initiated a January 1939 appeal to raise a million dollars for Chinese civilians in distress, and the response quickly materialized. While the Chinese did not expect direct intervention, they hoped to deter further American economic cooperation with Japan and to halt Japan's purchases of scrap iron, oil, gasoline, shipping, and, above all, weapons from the United States. Public opinion in America was sufficiently stirred to sustain a campaign against silk stockings, a symbolic gesture of boycott that achieved limited effect; Japan nonetheless continued to procure strategic materials. Within this chorus, the left remained a persistent but often discordant ally to the Nationalists. The Institute of Pacific Relations, sympathetic to communist aims, urged America to act, pressuring policymakers and sounding alarms about China. Yet the party line remained firmly pro-Chiang Kai-shek: the Japanese advance seemed too rapid and threatening to the Reds' interests. Most oil and iron debates stalled; American businessmen resented British trade ties with Japan, and Britain refused to join any mutual cutoff, arguing that the Western powers were not at war with Japan. What occurred in China was still commonly referred to in Western diplomatic circles as "the Incident." Wang Jingwei's would make his final defection, yes in a long ass history of defections. Mr Wang Jingwei had been very busy traveling to Guangzhou, then Northwest to speak with Feng Yuxiang, many telegrams went back and forth. He returned to the Nationalist government showing his face to foreign presses and so forth. While other prominent rivals of Chiang, Li Zongren, Bai Chongxi, and others, rallied when they perceived Japan as a real threat; all did so except Wang Jingwei. Wang, who had long believed himself the natural heir to Sun Yat-sen and who had repeatedly sought to ascend to power, seemed willing to cooperate with Japan if it served his own aims. I will just say it, Wang Jingwei was a rat. He had always been a rat, never changed. Opinions on Chiang Kai-Shek vary, but I think almost everyone can agree Wang Jingwei was one of the worst characters of this time period. Now Wang Jingwei could not distinguish between allies and enemies and was prepared to accept help from whomever offered it, believing he could outmaneuver Tokyo when necessary. Friends in Shanghai and abroad whispered that it was not too late to influence events, arguing that the broader struggle was not merely China versus Japan but a clash between principled leaders and a tyrannical, self-serving clique, Western imperialism's apologists who needed Chiang removed. For a time Wang drifted within the Kuomintang, moving between Nanjing, Wuhan, Changsha, and Chongqing, maintaining discreet lines of communication with his confidants. The Japanese faced a governance problem typical of conquerors who possess conquered territory: how to rule effectively while continuing the war. They imagined Asia under Japanese-led leadership, an East Asia united by a shared Co-Prosperity Sphere but divided by traditional borders. To sustain this vision, they sought local leaders who could cooperate. The search yielded few viable options; would-be collaborators were soon assassinated, proved incompetent, or proved corrupt. The Japanese concluded it would require more time and education. In the end, Wang Jingwei emerged as a preferred figure. Chongqing, meanwhile, seemed surprised by Wang's ascent. He had moved west to Chengde, then to Kunming, attempted, and failed to win over Yunnan's warlords, and eventually proceeded to Hanoi in Indochina, arriving in Hong Kong by year's end. He sent Chiang Kai-shek a telegram suggesting acceptance of Konoe's terms for peace, which Chungking rejected. In time, Wang would establish his own Kuomintang faction in Shanghai, combining rigorous administration with pervasive secret-police activity characteristic of occupied regimes. By 1940, he would be formally installed as "Chairman of China." But that is a story for another episode.  In the north, the Japanese and the CCP were locked in an uneasy stalemate. Mao's army could make it impossible for the Japanese to hold deep countryside far from the railway lines that enabled mass troop movement into China's interior. Yet the Communists could not defeat the occupiers. In the dark days of October 1938—fifteen months after the war began—one constant remained. Observers (Chinese businessmen, British diplomats, Japanese generals) repeatedly predicted that each new disaster would signal the end of Chinese resistance and force a swift surrender, or at least a negotiated settlement in which the government would accept harsher terms from Tokyo. But even after defenders were expelled from Shanghai, Nanjing, and Wuhan, despite the terrifying might Japan had brought to bear on Chinese resistance, and despite the invader's manpower, technology, and resources, China continued to fight. Yet it fought alone. 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. In a land shredded by war, Wuhan burned under brutal sieges, then Changsha followed, a cruel blaze born of orders and miscommunications. Leaders wrestled with retreat, scorched-earth vows, and moral debts as Japanese force and Chinese resilience clashed for months. Mao urged strategy over martyrdom, Wang Jingwei's scheming shadow loomed, and Chongqing rose as the westward beacon. Yet China endured, a stubborn flame refusing to surrender to the coming storm. The war stretched on, unfinished and unyielding.

The last time we spoke, Ishiwara had been spending considerable amounts of time with the Kwantung Army staff trying to figure out a way to push the envelope on seizing Manchuria. Ishiwara and his like minded colleagues had tried everything to persuade the Imperial Japanese army high command to initiate a course of action, but everytime the message was the same “wait, wait until next year, we can't do this at this time”. In 1931 Ishiwara and Itagaki organized the last major expedition into Northern Manchuria to get the newest recruited Kwantung officers up to speed and ready for plans they had been cooking up. Captain Nakamura Shintaro disappeared on the way back to Port Arthur. The Kwantung officers took the initiative, one could call it “Gekokujo / ruling from below” because without approval, in fact basically against the orders of high command they mobilized their forces outside their designated railway zone and headed for Mukden to quote “get the Chinese military to help investigate the Nakamura disappearance”. When Tokyo HQ got a whiff of this they dispatched a telegram immediately demanding the Kwantung officers get their men back and not use the Nakamura incident as a way of “solving the Manchurian problem”   For Ishiwara this was the last straw. He doubled down and pushed for a plot to provoke military conflict outside of Mukden. As he wrote in almost a messianic Nichiren conviction ‘I will be the pillar of Japan; I will be the eyes of Japan; I will be the great vessel of Japan” . During the last hectic weeks, General Honjo Shigeru arrived to take command of the Kwantung Army and there is no solid evidence Ishiwara and his radical group had disclosed their plans to him. However when everything began to move into motion, Honjo agreed to Ishiwara's military solution for the Manchurian problem.   On september 18th of 1931, a bomb was planted by the Kwantung army upon the south manchurian railway tracks at Liutiaokou. There was an explosion and the Kwantung army immediately claimed it to be a Chinese plot and moved with skill and precision to overrun the Peitaying Barracks. General Honjo's first reaction was hesitation, but then he committed additional units to aid the radicals and upon seeing the chaos unfold, ordered the seizure of all of Mukden in the process. Investigators would find the actions of Honjo over the course of the next few days to be quite indecisive. At first he seemed to be attempting to localize the incident, but then, likely as a result of Ishiwara and Itagaki pressuring him, relented to ordering a general assault on all Chinese positions in the area. Thus what was a isolated incident, transformed into a major offensive, and that major offensive was largely directed by two of Honjo's subordinates, as you may guess Ishiwara and Itagaki.   Now after the bomb explosion, the next 10 days saw southern and central Manchuria suddenly under the control of the Kwantung army. Itagaki as a senior staff officer and full colonel, was technically Ishiwara's superior, but for the next 4 months it appears Ishiwara was the main driver behind the military actions. Itagaki was quote to say to a friend during the offensive “Never mind Honjo, it's Ishiwara's War”. And indeed, being so far from Tokyo HQ's control, it really was Ishiwara's war. Tokyo dispatched official orders on September the 19th opposing the offensive, despite a lot of sympathy for the cause amongst the high commanders. Ishiwara and Inagaki had been planning this for months, they were willing to risk it all, so they disobeyed and carried on. Ishiwara began by first coercing Honjo for reinforcements and freedom to take initiative, as he was quoted asking ‘to pursue actively the security and order of all of Manchuria”.   Now obviously Ishiwara and Itagaki wanted to expand the offensive through the officials means firstmost, but they definitely went around the officials channels as well. One devious method they employed was to create chaos for civilians in Manchurian cities, thus increasing the need for better security for Japanese residents. This would allow the Kwantung army troops to deploy past their set perimeters. Immediately after what is now called “the Mukden incident”, military agents were dispatched to Kirin to create some chaos within the city. Reports of incidents from Kirin began to poor into the Kwantung Army HQ alongside Ishiwara demanding Honjo dispatch forces to Kirin to protect Japanese residents there. He also advocated for demanding reinforcements from the Korea Army, but Honjo was unwilling to go that far. It seems Ishiwara feared missing a golden opportunity and chose another course of action. On the night of the 20th, he gathered together a bunch of younger Kwantung officers such as Itagaki's assistant, Captain Katakura Tadashi and told them “I can't do anything more to budge the commander and so i'm giving up my responsibilities for the direction of operations. Katakura, you take over”. Well it seems this little ploy had the intended effect as all the young officers immediately began pressuring Honjo to support Ishiwara's demands to advance to Kirin, many of them threatening to resign. After several hours of the officers nagging, Honjo related and authorized the despatch of troops.    The operation against Kirin was carried out in lightning fast speed. Ishiwara directed the bulk of the 2nd division led by General Tamon Jiro to rush over to Kirin by rail. They entered the city without firing a single shot and forced the local Chinese commander to proclaim the independence of the province from Zhang Xueliang's regime. Within hours after this, the Korea army responded to a aid request sent out by the Kwantung Army staff on september 21st and began moving into Manchuria. Within only 48 hours the Japanese military had seized Kirin which lay outside the Kwantung operational zone and the Korea army was invading Manchuria without any approval from Tokyo, military discipline thus had been shattered.    Chief of staff Kanaya Hanzo had issued specific orders to limit the scope of the Kwantung army's operations and entrusted discretionary authority to the field commanders for certain emergency situations, usually of a local nature. The Kirin expedition did not exactly fall within any of these boundaries. Bolstered by their success, Ishiwara and Itagaki followed up the Kirin operation by pressing for an advance upon Harbin. As you might recall from the previous episode, the entire idea of taking Manchuria was built upon speed and precision. The Kwantung army had tiny forces compared to the immediate Chinese forces in Manchuria. However here they were blocked by directives sent from Tokyo HQ which forbade the movement of Kwantung troops beyond the south manchuria railway, up to this point they had limited their actions along those margins. Ishiwara attempted arguing something on more political lines. He argued Japan should aid Manchurian independence and sent the idea straight to Tokyo central HQ. In a sharp rebuff on October 3rd, Tokyo HQ affirmed its opposition to expanding the hostilities and rejected the political idea.   With the hard no from Tokyo HQ, the Kwantung radicals thought the only course of action was to cause even more chaos to force the issue. Ishiwara took the lead again, trying to toss Tokyo HQ off balance. Ishiwara personally went out on October the 8th, dressed in military pilot gear and slipped into one of five Chinese aircraft that had been seized at Mukdens airfield. He then personally led a raid, though later in life, such as at the Tokyo War crimes trials he would argue the flight was supposed to be just a reconnaissance of enemy activities at Chinchou. As he asserted, it was only at the last minute, some intelligence sprang up that anti-aircraft guns had been installed at Chinchou and thus the Kwantung army Commander had given permission to neutralize them if fired upon. Ishiwara stated that he and the 4 other aircraft accompanying him were fired upon and thus they dropped around 75 bombs on Chinchou, yes quite the course of events. As you might guess, more contemporary accounts would indicate this was a premeditated effort designed to freak out Tokyo.    The raid against Chinchou did indeed freak out Tokyo, the staff there began to fear the west would begin tossing condemnation upon them. Tokyo high command was in a bad spot. They felt obliged to back up the Kwantung army publically, by issuing post-facto approval of the many chaotic attacks, but internally they were livid. Major Endo Saburo of the intelligence division was sent to Manchuria to investigate the Chinchou situation. Saburo said upon asking Ishiwara what occurred, he responded that he had acted under the principle of field initiative and that was the reason why he never informed Tokyo in advance. Saburo also noted the manner in which he spoke to him indicated that Saburo alongside the intelligence division should mind their own business. Saburo also found out there were murmurs in Manchuria that if Tokyo high command did not get onboard, the Kwantung army was prepared to go it alone. It seemed the radical Kwantung officers would even go against the imperial japanese army command to get what they wanted. Ishiwara went as far as to send this telegram to Tokyo “For the sake of the nation we are doing our very best in Manchuria, but if the Japanese government constantly interferes we cannot complete our great work. Then the Kwantung army will have to come to the point where we will have to break the glorious history of the imperial army and separate ourselves from the empire”.If you thought this was pretty nuts, a rumor also emerged that Ishiwara and Itagaki were going to use an independent Manchuria as a base to perform a coup d'etat against the Japanese government, to overthrow the capitalists strangling the people and to establish a national socialist regime built around the emperor. For those of you who know your 1930's Japanese government by assassination history, you know exactly what this rumor is about, a little something that will occur in 1936. Whether Ishiwara and Itagaki actually intended to do this is unknown, but they certainly put out the word.   On october 18th, war minister Minami Jiro sent a telegram over to the Kwantung army ordering them to cease any and all talk of making Manchuria independent or trying to take control of it. Alongside that, they sent operations section, Colonel Imamura Hitoshi to Manchuria to talk some sense into Ishiwara and Itagaki. They all met at a restaurant in Mukden where Imamura began by explaining the purpose of his mission, but before he could even really begin, Ishiwara blurted out “whats the matter? Doesn't central headquarters have any backbone?” A great way to start a meeting to be sure. Imamura tried to explain the situation, but Ishiwara said “if we follow the spineless Tokyo approach we'll never settle the Manchurian problem”. Imamura replied “we can't accomplish anything by following the arbitrary decision of field elements, which may create a crisis that will shake the whole army. In such a problem it is essential for the whole nation to be unified”. To this Ishiwara apparently said really loudly in the restaurant that he was sleepy, rolled over on the tatami and closed his eyes. Imamura furious haha, get up quickly after denouncing his so called hosts for conducting official IJA business at a restaurant and left. The next day they all met again, where Ishiwara and Itagaki kept speaking about the necessity to create an independent state, since there was no hope of the Chinese reforming Manchuria. After Imamura left that meeting, Ishiwara said to Itagaki “Imamura is a fine fellow, but he doesn't understand China”.   And so despite the chaos and mania, the Kwantung Army had been restrained from pursuing any sustained military action through october. Ishiwara as you would imagine kept arguing they had to advance into northern manchuria. In early november Ishiwara got lucky again, finding a pretext in more destroyed railways. The rail bridges over the Nonni river south of Tsitsihar had allegedly been blown up by hostile Chinese forces. When Japanese engineer units showed up to repair the damaged tracks they were fired upon by Chinese forces. To the high officials in Tokyo it looked like a justifiable reason to take defensive measures. This was also being meet with Kwantung intelligence information being sent to Tokyo that Chinese forces in northern Manchuria were planning a southward offensive. Ishiwara had provided some rather exaggerated reports to the Japanese public to manipulate their opinion through the press which in turn put pressure on Tokyo into supporting an advance into northern manchuria.   Tokyo authorized a defensive operation, limited to time and distance aimed at defending the Japanese positions at the Nonni River bridges. Kwantung army forces began moving north and soon were engaged in heavy fighting around the railway area of Tahsing. Ishiwara personally led men during this, it would actually be the only time in his military career to do so. General Honjo, rightfully feared the Kwantung forces were getting out of hand sent a cabled on November 5th announcing under the “rinsan inmei / provisional mandate”, the general staff was assuming direct command authority in Manchuria. As you can imagine Ishiwara and his like minded Kwantung officer colleagues were livid. Honjo followed this up by stating he would resign if they did not comply, but Ishiwara brushed off the provisional mandate stating “that the directive from the chief of staff is just a personal, not an imperial order. No matter how many we get of those we shouldn't' care. We'll just go ahead with our plans”. On november 17, the Kwantung army began advancing upon the city of Tsitsihar seizing it 2 days later.    Facing yet another terrible situation publicly, the IJA high command allowed the Kwantung to advance upon Tsitsihar, but then uproar started abroad, forcing them to order the city evacuated. Ishiwara then began a huge argument amongst the staff stating the evacuation was unacceptable because of the sacrifices the forces had already made. But Honjo was standing firm. Then a few days later, Chinese forces began to assemble at Chinchou  and there had been some conflicts emerging between Japanese and chinese forces at Tientsin. Well Ishiwara immediately went to work demanding Honjo launch an offensive on Chinchou as a first step of linking their forces closer to Tientsin incase they were overwhelmed. To secure the advance, they also asked the Korea army to help out. Yet again Tokyo was tossed the hot potato. Tokyo high command ordered an immediate cease to the offensive and a withdrawal east of the Liao river. The Kwantung army paused, not so much before of the order, but because the Korea army refused to participate in the offensive against Chinchou, and they were most definitely needed.    Ishiwara faced a dilemma, without the reinforcements the entire offensive might be doomed. And then fatefully, Premier Wakatsuki was outed on December 11th.War Minister Minami and Chief of staff Kanaya, both who tried to moderate the Kwantung army's offensives were replaced by Araki Sadao an aggressive leader of the Kodoha Faction, known in english as “the imperial way faction”. To explain a bit, within the Japanese military there were cliques, kind of like the warlords cliques in many ways. They fought to direct the future operations of the IJA and even IJN to an extent. There were two main ones that influenced the 1930's heavily, the Kodoha and Toseiha (control faction). The Kodoha were not an organized political party, nor did they have an official standing within the IJA, but they were certainly influential. Kodoha members tended to be younger officers in the IJA, particularly those in the Kwantung army. General Sadao Araki was a founder of the faction and they were heavily influenced by Bushido, Fascism and the Kokutai. They sought a return to “the good old days” as one says. They say liberal democracy as a poison hurting Japan. They viewed the capitalists, industrialists and elites of Japan, ie the politicians, bureaucrats and Zaibatsu leaders to be responsible for ruining the once great nation. They wanted to see the Emperor take back full power, in what they would call a “showa restoration”. Their number one enemy, as was viewed by most of the Japanese military at this time, was the USSR and communism as a whole. Thus they were also by proxy in favor of the Hokushin-ron “northern strike policy” which was the Japanese theoretical war plan to invade the USSR. Now I don't want to go to far down the rabbit whole, but due note they were counter balanced by another faction known as the Toseiha faction, who were I guess to put it lightly, more moderate. The Toseiha were headed by Hideki Tojo famously and they opposed the Kodoha faction on a few grounds, one important one being, they did not want to cause a violent revolution to usher in the Emperor dominance. The Toseiha shared a lot of principles with the Kodoha, but they did not favor the Hokushin-ron strategy and instead adopted the Nanshin-ron strategy “southern strike” into southeast asia and the resource rich dutch east indies. It goes without saying the Toseiha faction enjoyed better relations with the IJN. So just to place this story within the political realm we are speaking, these two factions began to compete heavily for dominance 1931 onwards.   With Araki Sadao and some help from Prince Kan'in who was a Kodoha sympathizer things dramatically changed in Tokyo command. All of a sudden, offensive operations against Chinese forces in Manchuria became “bandit suppression” campaigns. The Kwantung army with Tokyo's full backing soon pursued all their military objectives, set out by Ishiwara and Itagaki since September. Chinchou and Shanhaikwan were seized in early January of 1932; Tsitsihar by February and by spring of 1932 Ishiwara argued to the staff they should complete the full seizure of Manchuria both north and south. In April that year he laid out “Manshu haiti heiryaku / the program for pacification of manchuria”. This new plan called for the seizure of Hailar in the north because “it was pivotal to the defense against the USSR”. It also called for seizing Jehol province because “it was an important condition to the independence of Manchuria”. By the end of the year Hailar was taken and in 1933 the Kwantung army was marching upon Jehol.   It goes without saying Ishiwara was central to the conquest of Manchuria. The Kwantung Army and IJA overall had numerous options laid bare to them to solve the Manchurian problem, but Ishiwara's primary concern was total control over Manchuria for its resources, strategic position and to obtain a continental base for a war against America. To Ishiwara, taking all of Manchuria was necessary to prepare for the Final War. Without Ishiwara it is certain there would have been conflict in Manchuria between Japan and China, but would Japan have outright seized the province? Ishiwara spent years planning and pushing the envelope. When the plan was unleashed, it would turn out Ishiwara and his colleagues did not have a concrete timetable for conquest and lacked quite a few contingency plans. Despite the chaotic nature of it all, the conquest of Manchuria was a stunning success. So much so, Ishiwara said to a friend of his, Satomi Kishio in 1932 “Even if Japan has to face the entire world, she can't be beaten”.   Ironically as many of you know, Japan's actions in Manchuria cost her greatly. Japan was now hated by the Chinese, well much more so. The west condemned Japan's actions, alongside the USSR. As my professor first taught me in a class about the Pacific War when I was a wee lad in his early 20's “It all was about Manchuria, everything started with Manchuria, and it ended with Manchuria in 1945”. The Manchuria affair started Japan on an inevitable course to fight the China War, which inturn led her to fight the west. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. The entire affair also brings into question the subject of military discipline. Many look at the Gekokujo variable as an explanation as to how people like Ishiwara and Itagaki got away with all they did. You know, these militarist hardtype junior officers just ran amok, performed some rebellious acts defying their superiors, forcing their hands to become accomplices. Now don't get me wrong Gekokujo definitely played a hand, particularly when you look at Ishiwara. But it does not take away from the fact there simply was a high level of indiscipline within the Japanese army.   Ishiwara would have been 100% fully aware what his actions might result in, hell the guy before him, Colonel Komoto Daisaku is a great example. Ishiwara spent a long time with Komoto and saw the man's career broken as he was exiled for the Huanggutun incident. But Ishiwara was not only focus on Manchuria, he had a close eye on the political situation in Tokyo. Ishiwara knew the 1931 cabinet was crumbling, he knew certain high officials like Araki Sadao were in fast track position for promotions and their sympathies were with his cause. Ishiwara was betting, certain sympathizers such as Kodoha faction aligned ones would take seats of power necessary to help push his cause. His gamble more than paid off. All the main actors in the Manchurian affair were rewarded for their accomplishments. Ishiwara received the Order of the Golden Kite 3rd class. More importantly he returned to Japan as a rockstar hero, the younger IJA officers were enthralled by him. Ironically Ishiwara had fostered indiscipline within the army more so, that when he went up the ladder becoming a member of the Tokyo staff it would bite him in the ass.   Manchukuo and racial harmony   Now Ishiwara's dream of taking control over Manchuria was almost purely a means to end end: ie to obtain resources and a strategic position to face America. Once Manchuria was under their control, Ishiwara directed his attention towards another goal aside from this, that of racial cooperation among the asian peoples. Manchukuo or rather Ishiwara's view of what it could be was a springboard of his vision for a East-Asian league, something that had a firm basis in his Final War theory. During Ishiwara's tour of duty in Manchuria in 1932, this Pan-Asian idea of what Manchukuo could be is what set him apart from many of his Kwantung Army colleagues, it also marked him to be very unorthodox within the IJA.    Manchukuo as many of you probably know, was a sham puppet state created to legitimize Japan's seizure of Manchuria. The Japanese high command simply sought to use the guise of an indigenous movement for independence to hide the fact the simply invaded a part of China and stole it. To do this they went as far as grabbing the last Qing emperor, Puyi and tossing him upon the throne of the new state of Manchukuo while they tossed up principles of racial harmony. For obvious reasons this was all done. You can't control a region full of a population that rightfully hates you without trying to win them over. Now what the Japanese did have going for them, was there did exist elements in Manchuria who sought independence. This was Manchuria, the heart of Nurhaci's Manchu people, don't get me started on what a Manchu exactly is by the way, listen to the fall and rise of China podcast for that. The Japanese had a lot to work with, it could be seen as a righteous Qing revival, or simply giving power back to the Manchu. There was also a large presence of Mongolians, and yes Inner Mongolia would come into all of this. Manchuria came into the nationalist fold late and not exactly willingly. Also the fear of the USSR was not something Japan had alone, Manchuria had struggled against the USSR for a very long time. There was also of course a large Japanese settler population in Manchuria who obviously welcomed the seizure. The Zhang Xueliang regime was not exactly too too friendly to the Japanese within the borders and a lot of discriminatory measure had been exacted upon them. When Zhang Xueliang had joined the Nationalists this had basically spelt doom upon them, at some point they knew they would be kicked out.   While the offensives were in full swing, Ishiwara and Itagaki met with other influential Kwantung Officers to figure out how they could exert control over Manchuria. Officer Katakura, chief of staff Miyake, Dohihara Kenji of the Mukden special service organ all met, looking over a previous plan created by Colonel Dohihara, for a multi racial autonomous nation of Manchuria. It was to be headed by the last Qing emperor, Puyi and needed to possess complete autonomy in internal matters, but its defense and foreign relations would be entrusted to Japan. Ishiwara drafted the plans by September 22nd and they were telegrammed to Tokyo on October 2nd. Tokyo high command disproved of the objectives, but nonetheless worked with the Kwantung army for 5 months on the creation of a new state based on two major principles: the so-called indigenous movement for Manchurian independence and the administrative planning for the Kwantung army to control it.    The Kwantung army went to work using the traditional structure of Manchuria, local self governing bodies. They bribed, persuaded and threatened as many as they could throughout 1931 carefully cultivating a local autonomy movement against the Kuomintang hardliners. One of the first things they created was “Jichi Shidobu self-government guidance board”, whose organ was responsible for coordinating various regional movements for independence to work with the Kwantung army to, in the words of Miyake “guide Manchuria to self-government”. The head of this board was appointed to the Mukden elder statesmen Yu Ch'ung-han, a man educated in Japan and previous advisor to Zhang Zuolin. His board would consist of 20 Japanese and 10 Manchurian members. Such organs were opened Japanese civilians in Manchuria and they flocked to them to support the so called multiracial political structure, because they could bend it to their own benefit.   The Kwantung army began tossing the slogans “racial harmony, racial equality and the righteous way” around heavily. The Kwantung army control over Manchuria was hashed out easily by establishing Japanese advisors over all organs who held ultimate veto authority, they would be appointed at all levels of government, thus everything was in reality Japanese controlled. Everything was going according to Ishiwara's vision….or was it? You would think so, and Ishiwara was definitely pushing all of this forward, but by 1933 he suddenly became a ferocious critic of the very beast he had helped create. 

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the Wuhan Campaign. As Japanese forces pressed toward central China, Chiang Kai-shek faced a brutal choice: defend Wuhan with costly sieges or unleash a dangerous flood to buy time. The Yellow River breached its banks at Huayuankou, sending a wall of water racing toward villages, railways, and fields. The flood did not erase the enemy; it bought months of breathing room for a battered China, but at a terrible toll to civilians who lost homes, farms, and lives. Within Wuhan's orbit, a mosaic of Chinese forces struggled to unite. The NRA, split into competing war zones and factions, numbered about 1.3 million but fought with uneven equipment and training. The Japanese, deploying hundreds of thousands, ships, and air power, pressed from multiple angles: Anqing, Madang, Jiujiang, and beyond, using riverine forts and amphibious landings to turn the Yangtze into a deadly artery. Yet courage endured as troops held lines, pilots challenged the skies, and civilians, like Wang Guozhen, who refused to betray his country, chose defiance over surrender. The war for Wuhan was not a single battle but a testament to endurance in the face of overwhelming odds.   #173 The Fall of Wuhan 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. In the last episode we began the Battle of Wuhan. Japan captured Anqing and gained air access to Jiujiang, Chinese defenses around the Yangtze River were strained. The southern Yangtze's Ninth War Zone held two key garrisons: one west of Poyang Lake and another in Jiujiang. To deter Japanese assault on Jiujiang, China fortified Madang with artillery, mines, and bamboo booms. On June 24, Japan conducted a surprise Madang landing while pressing south along the Yangtze. Madang's fortress withstood four assaults but suffered heavy bombardment and poison gas. Chinese leadership failures contributed to the fall: Li Yunheng, overseeing Madang, was away at a ceremony, leaving only partial contingents, primarily three battalions from marine corps units and the 313th regiment of the 53rd division, participating, totaling under five battalions. Reinforcements from Pengze were misrouted by Li's orders, arriving too late. Madang fell after three days. Chiang Kai-shek retaliated with a counterattack and rewarded units that recaptured Xiangshan, but further progress was blocked. Li Yunheng was court-martialed, and Xue Weiying executed.   Madang's loss opened a corridor toward Jiujiang. The Japanese needed weeks to clear minefields, sacrificing several ships in the process. With roughly 200,000 Chinese troops in the Jiujiang–Ruichang zone under Xue Yue and Zhang Fukui, the Japanese captured Pengze and then Hukou, using poison gas again during the fighting. The Hukou evacuation cut off many non-combat troops, with over 1,800 of 3,100 soldiers successfully evacuated and more than 1,300 missing drowned in the lake. Two weeks after Hukou's fall, the Japanese reached Jiujiang and overtook it after a five-day battle. The retreat left civilians stranded, and the Jiujiang Massacre followed: about 90,000 civilians were killed, with mass executions of POWs, rapes, and widespread destruction of districts, factories, and transport. Subsequently, the Southern Riverline Campaign saw Japanese detachments along the river advance westward, capturing Ruichang, Ruoxi, and other areas through October, stretching Chinese defenses thin as Japan pressed toward Wuchang and beyond. On July 26, 1938, the Japanese occupied Jiujiang and immediately divided their forces into three routes: advancing toward De'an and Nanchang, then striking Changsha, severing the Yue-Han Railway, and surrounding Wuhan in an effort to annihilate the Chinese field army. The advance of the 101st and 106th Infantry Divisions slowed south of the Yangtze River, yet the Central China Expeditionary Army remained intent on seizing Ruichang and De'an to cut off Chinese forces around Mount Lu. To this end, the 9th and 27th Infantry Divisions were deployed to the sector, with the 9th regarded as an experienced unit that had fought in earlier campaigns, while the 27th was newly formed in the summer of 1938; this contrast underscored the rapidly expanding scope of the war in China as the Japanese Army General Staff continued mobilizing reservists and creating new formations. According to the operational plan, the 101st and 106th Divisions would push south toward De'an to pin Chinese defenders, while the 9th and 27th Divisions would envelop Chinese forces south of the river. Okamura Yasuji ordered five battalions from the 9th to move toward De'an via Ruichang, and the Hata Detachment was tasked with securing the area northwest of Ruichang to protect the 9th's flank. North of the Yangtze, the 6th Infantry Division was to move from Huangmei to Guangji, with Tianjiazhen as the ultimate objective; capturing Tianjiazhen would allow the 11th Army to converge on Wuhan from both north and south of the river.  The operation began when the 9th Division landed at Jiujiang, threatening the left flank of the Jinguanqiao line. The Chinese responded by deploying the 1st Corps to counter the 9th Division's left flank, which threatened the Maruyama Detachment's lines of communication. The Maruyama Detachment counterattacked successfully, enabling the rest of the 9th Division to seize Ruichang on August 24; on the same day, the 9th attacked the 30th Army defending Mount Min. The Chinese defense deteriorated on the mountain, and multiple counterattacks by Chinese divisions failed, forcing the 1st Corps to retreat to Mahuiling. The seizure of Ruichang and the surrounding area was followed by a wave of atrocities, with Japanese forces inflicting substantial casualties, destroying houses, and damaging property, and crimes including murder, rape, arson, torture, and looting devastating many villages and livelihoods in the Ruichang area. After Ruichang and Mount Min fell, the Maruyama Detachment and the 106th Infantry Division advanced on Mahuiling, seeking to encircle Chinese forces from the northwest, with the 106th forming the inner ring and the Maruyama Detachment the outer ring; this coordination led to Mahuiling's fall on September 3. The 27th Infantry Division, arriving in late August, landed east of Xiaochikou, providing the manpower to extend Japanese offensives beyond the Yangtze's banks and outflank Chinese defenders along the river. Its main objective was to seize the Rui-wu highway, a vital route for the continued advance toward Wuhan. After the fall of Mahuiling, Japanese command altered its strategy. The 11th Army ordered the Maruyama Detachment to rejoin the 9th Infantry Division and press westward, while the 101st Infantry Division was to remain at Mahuiling and push south toward De'an along with the 106th Infantry Division. This divergent or “eccentric” offensive aimed to advance on Wuhan while protecting the southern flank. The renewed offensive began on September 11, 1938, with the 9th Infantry Division and Hata Detachment advancing west along the Rui-yang and Rui-wu highways toward Wuhan, followed days later by the 27th Infantry Division. Initially, the Japanese made solid progress from Ruichang toward a line centered on Laowuge, but soon faced formidable Chinese defenses. The 9th and 27th Divisions confronted the Chinese 2nd Army Corps, which had prepared in-depth positions in the mountains west of Sanchikou and Xintanpu. The 27th Division encountered stiff resistance from the 18th and 30th Corps, and although it captured Xiaoao by September 24, its vanguard advancing west of Shujie came under heavy attack from the 91st, 142nd, 60th, and 6th Reserve Infantry Divisions, threatening to encircle it. Only the southward advance of the 101st and 106th Divisions relieved the pressure, forcing the Chinese to redeploy the 91st and 6th Reserve Divisions to the south and thereby loosening the 27th's grip. After the redeployment, the 9th and 27th Divisions resumed their push. The 9th crossed the Fu Shui on October 9 and took Sanjikou on October 16, while the 27th seized Xintanpu on October 18. The Hata Detachment followed, capturing Yangxin on October 18 and Ocheng on October 23, further tightening Japanese control over the highways toward Wuhan. By mid-October, 11th Army commander Okamura Yasuji resolved to sever the Guangzhou-Hankou railway to disrupt Chinese lines. On October 22, the 9th and 27th Divisions attacked toward Jinniu and Xianning. By October 27, the 9th had captured Jinniu and cut the railway; the 27th Division extended the disruption further south. These actions effectively isolated Wuchang from the south, giving the Imperial Japanese Army greater leverage over the southern approaches to Wuhan. The push south by the 101st and 106th Infantry Divisions pressed toward De'an, where they encountered the entrenched Chinese 1st Army Corps. The offensive began on September 16 and by the 24th, elements of the 27th Division penetrated deep into the area west of Baishui Street and De'an's environs. Recognizing the growing crisis, Xue Yue mobilized the nearby 91st and 142nd Divisions, who seized Nanping Mountain along the Ruiwu Line overnight, effectively cutting off the 27th Division's retreat. Fierce combat on the 25th and 26th saw Yang Jialiu, commander of the 360th Regiment of the 60th Division, die a heroic death. Zhang Zhihe, chief of staff of the 30th Group Army and an underground CCP member, commanded the newly formed 13th Division and the 6th Division to annihilate the Suzuki Regiment and recapture Qilin Peak. Learning of the 27th Division's trap, Okamura Yasuji panicked and, on the 25th, urgently ordered the 123rd, 145th, and 147th Infantry Regiments and mountain artillery of the 106th Division on the Nanxun Line, along with the 149th Regiment of the 101st Division on the Dexing Line, to rush to Mahuiling and Xingzi. To adapt to mountain warfare, some units were temporarily converted to packhorse formations. On the 27th, the 106th Division broke through the Wutailing position with force, splitting into two groups and pushing toward Erfangzheng and Lishan. By the 28th, the three regiments and mountain artillery of the 106th Division advanced into the mountain villages of Wanjialing, Leimingguliu, Shibaoshan, Nantianpu, Beixijie, and Dunshangguo, about 50 li west of De'an. On the same day, the 149th Regiment of the 101st Division entered the Wanjialing area and joined the 106th Division. Commanded by Lieutenant General Junrokuro Matsuura, the 106th Division sought to break out of Baicha and disrupt the Nanwu Highway to disrupt the Chinese retreat from De'an. At this juncture, Xue Yue's corps perceived the Japanese advance as a predatory, wolf-like maneuver and deemed it a strategic opportunity to counterattack. He resolved to pull forces from Dexing, Nanxun, and Ruiwu to envelop the enemy near Wanjialing, with the aim of annihilating them. Thus began a desperate, pivotal battle between China and Japan in northern Jiangxi, centered on the Wanjialing area. The Japanese 106th Division found its rear communications cut off around September 28, 1938, as the Chinese blockade tightened. Despite the 27th Division's severed rear and its earlier defeat at Qilin Peak, Okamura Yasuji ordered a renewed push to relieve the besieged 106th by directing the 27th Division to attack Qilin Peak and advance east of Baishui Street. In this phase, the 27th Division dispatched the remnants of its 3rd Regiment to press the assault on Qilin Peak, employing poison gas and briefly reaching the summit. On September 29, the 142nd Division of the 32nd Army, under Shang Zhen, coordinated with the 752nd Regiment of the same division to launch a fierce counterattack on Qilin Peak at Zenggai Mountain west of Xiaoao. After intense fighting, they reclaimed the peak, thwarting the 27th Division's bid to move eastward to aid the 106th. Concurrently, a portion of the 123rd Regiment of the 106th Division attempted a breakout west of Baishui Street. Our 6th and 91st Divisions responded with a determined assault from the east of Xiaoao, blocking the 123rd Regiment east of Baishui Street. The victories at Qilin Peak and Baishui Street halted any merger between the eastern and western Japanese forces, enabling the Chinese army to seal the pocket and create decisive conditions for encircling the 106th Division and securing victory in the Battle of Wanjialing. After the setback at Qilin Peak, Division Commander Masaharu Homma, defying Okamura Yasuji's orders to secure Baishui Street, redirected his focus to Tianhe Bridge under a pretext of broader operations. He neglected the heavily encircled 106th Division and pivoted toward Xintanpu. By September 30, Chinese forces attacked from both the east and west, with the 90th and 91st Divisions joining the assault on the Japanese positions. On October 1, the Japanese, disoriented and unable to pinpoint their own unit locations, telegrammed Okamura Yasuji for air support. On October 2, the First Corps received orders to tighten the encirclement and annihilate the enemy forces. Deployments were made to exploit a numerical advantage and bolster morale, placing the Japanese in a desperate position. On October 3, 1938, the 90th and 91st Divisions launched a concerted attack on Nantianpu, delivering heavy damage to the Japanese force and showering Leimingguliu with artillery fire that endangered the 106th Division headquarters. By October 5, Chinese forces reorganized: the 58th Division of the 74th Army advanced from the south, the 90th Division of the 4th Army from the east, portions of the 6th and 91st Divisions from the west, and the 159th and 160th Divisions of the 65th Army from the north, tightening the surrounding cordon from four directions. On October 6, Xue Yue ordered a counterattack, and by October 7 the Chinese army had effectively cut off all retreat routes. That evening, after fierce hand-to-hand combat, the 4th Army regained the hilltop, standing at a 100-meter-high position, and thwarted any Japanese plan to break through Baicha and sever Chinese retreat toward De'an. By October 8, Lieutenant Colonel Sakurada Ryozo, the 106th Division's staff officer, reported the division's deteriorating situation to headquarters. The telegram signaled the impending collapse of the 106th Division. On October 9, Kuomintang forces recaptured strategic positions such as Lishan, tightening encirclement to a small pocket of about three to four square kilometers in Nantianpu, Leimingguliu, and Panjia. That night, the vanguard attacked the Japanese 106th Division's headquarters at Leimingguliu, engaging in close combat with the Japanese. Matsuura and the division's staff then took up arms in defense. In the early hours of October 10, Japanese forces launched flares that illuminated only a narrow arc of movement, and a limited number of troops fled northwest toward Yangfang Street. The two and a half month battle inflicted tremendous casualties on the Japanese, particularly on the 101st and 106th divisions. These two formations began with a combined strength of over 47,000 troops and ultimately lost around 30,000 men in the fighting. The high casualty rate hit the Japanese officer corps especially hard, forcing General Shunroku Hata to frequently airdrop replacement officers onto the besieged units' bases throughout the engagement. For the Chinese, the successful defense of Wanjialing was pivotal to the Wuhan campaign.  Zooming out at a macro level a lot of action was occurring all over the place. Over in Shandong, 1,000 soldiers under Shi Yousan, who had defected multiple times between rival warlord cliques and operated as an independent faction, occupied Jinan and held it for a few days. Guerrillas briefly controlled Yantai. East of Changzhou extending to Shanghai, another non-government Chinese force, led by Dai Li, employed guerrilla tactics in the Shanghai suburbs and across the Huangpu River. This force included secret society members from the Green Gang and the Tiandihui, who conducted executions of spies and perceived traitors, losing more than 100 men in the course of operations. On August 13, members of this force clandestinely entered the Japanese air base at Hongqiao and raised a Chinese flag. Meanwhile, the Japanese Sixth Division breached the defensive lines of Chinese 31st and 68th Armies on July 24 and captured Taihu, Susong, and Huangmei Counties by August 3. As Japanese forces advanced westward, the Chinese Fourth Army of the Fifth War Zone deployed its main strength in Guangji, Hubei, and Tianjia Town to intercept the offensive. The 11th Army Group and the 68th Army were ordered to form a defensive line in Huangmei County, while the 21st and 29th Army Groups, along with the 26th Army, moved south to outflank the Japanese. The Chinese recaptured Taihu on August 27 and Susong on August 28. However, with Japanese reinforcements arriving on August 30, the Chinese 11th Army Group and the 68th Army were unable to sustain counteroffensives and retreated to Guangji County to continue resisting alongside the 26th, 55th, and 86th Armies. The Chinese Fourth Army Group directed the 21st and 29th Army Groups to flank the Japanese from the northeast of Huangmei, but they failed to halt the Japanese advance. Guangji fell on September 6, and while Guangji was recovered by the Chinese Fourth Corps on September 8, Wuxue was lost on the same day. Zooming back in on the Wuhan Front, the Japanese focus shifted to Tianjiazhen. The fortress of Tianjiazhen represented the 6th Infantry Division's most important objective. Its geographic position, where the Yangtze's two banks narrow to roughly 600 meters, with cliffs and high ground overlooking the river, allowed Chinese forces to deploy gun batteries that could control the river and surrounding terrain. Chinese control of Tianjiazhen thus posed a serious obstacle to Japan's amphibious and logistical operations on the Yangtze, and its seizure was deemed essential for Japan to advance toward Wuhan. Taking Tianjiazhen would not be easy: overland approaches were impeded by mountainous terrain on both sides of the fortress, while an amphibious assault faced fortified positions and minefields in the narrow river. Recognizing its strategic importance, Chinese forces reinforced Tianjiazhen with three divisions from central government troops, aiming to deter an overland assault. Chinese preparations included breaching several dykes and dams along the Yangtze to flood expanses of land and slow the Japanese advance; however, the resulting higher water levels widened the river and created a more accessible supply route for the Japanese. Instead of relying on a long overland route from Anqing to Susong, the Japanese could now move supplies directly up the Yangtze from Jiujiang to Huangmei, a distance of only about 40 kilometers, which boosted the 6th Division's logistics and manpower. In August 1938 the 6th Infantry Division resumed its northward push, facing determined resistance from the 4th Army Corps entrenched in a narrow defile south of the Dabie Mountains, with counterattacks from the 21st and 27th Army Groups affecting the 6th's flank. The Dabie Mountains are a major mountain range located in central China. Running northwest to southeast, they form the main watershed between the Huai and Yangtze rivers. The range also marks the boundary between Hubei Province and its neighboring provinces of Henan to the north and Anhui to the east. By early September the 6th had captured Guangji, providing a staging ground for the thrust toward Tianjiazhen, though this extended the division's long flank: after Guangji fell, it now faced a 30-kilometer front between Huangmei and Guangji, exposing it to renewed Chinese pressure from the 21st and 27th Army Groups. This constrained the number of troops available for the main objective at Tianjiazhen. Consequently, the Japanese dispatched only a small force, three battalions from the Imamura Detachment, to assault Tianjiazhen, betting that the fortress could be taken within a week. The KMT, learning from previous defeats, reinforced Tianjiazhen with a stronger infantry garrison and built obstacles, barbed wire, pillboxes, and trench networks, to slow the assault. These defenses, combined with limited Japanese logistics, six days of rations per soldier, made the operation costly and precarious. The final Japanese assault was postponed by poor weather, allowing Chinese forces to press counterattacks: three Chinese corps, the 26th, 48th, and 86th, attacked the Imamura Detachment's flank and rear, and by September 18 these attacks had begun to bite, though the floods of the Yangtze prevented a complete encirclement of the eastern flank. Despite these setbacks, Japanese riverine and ground operations continued, aided by naval support that moved up the Yangtze as Matouzhen's batteries were overtaken. After Matouzhen fell and enabled a secure riverine supply line from Shanghai to Guangji, 11th Army commander Okamura Yasuji quickly sent relief supplies upriver on September 23. These replenishments restored the besieged troops near Tianjiazhen and allowed the Japanese to resume the offensive, employing night assaults and poison gas to seize Tianjiazhen on September 29, 1938, thereby removing a major barrier to their advance toward Wuhan along the Yangtze. The 11th Army pressed north along the Yangtze while the 2nd Army, commanded by Prince Naruhiko Higashikuni, concentrated the 3rd, 10th, 13th, and 16th Infantry Divisions around Hefei with initial aims at Lu'an and Heshan and the broader objective of moving toward the northern foothills of the Dabie Mountains. When Chinese forces began destroying roads west of Lu'an, Naruhiko shifted the 2nd Army's plan. Rather than pushing along a line from Lu'an to Heshan, he redirected toward the Huangchuan–Shangcheng corridor, where more intact roads remained accessible, and Chinese withdrawals in the Huangchuan–Shangceng area to counter the 11th Army's Yangtze advance allowed the 2nd Army to gain speed in the early stage of its offensive. The 10th and 13th Infantry Divisions were ordered to begin their advance on August 27, facing roughly 25,000 Chinese troops from the Fifth War Zone's 51st and 77th Corps, and achieving notable early gains. The 10th captured Lu'an on August 28, followed by the 13th taking Heshan on August 29. The 10th then seized Kushi on September 7. Meanwhile, the 13th crossed the Shi River at night in an attempt to seize Changbailing, but encountered stiff resistance from multiple Chinese divisions that slowed its progress. To bolster the effort, Naruhiko ordered the Seiya Detachment from the 10th Division—three infantry battalions—to reinforce the 13th. Despite these reinforcements, momentum remained insufficient, so he deployed the 16th Infantry Division, which had arrived at Yenchiachi, to assault Shangcheng from the north. After crossing the Shi River at Yanjiachi, the 16th outflanked Shangcheng from the north, coordinating with the 13th from the south; the Chinese withdrew and Shangcheng fell. Following this success, Naruhiko ordered the 13th and 16th Divisions to push deeper into the Dabie Mountains toward Baikou and Songfu, while the 10th and 3rd Divisions moved toward Leshan and Xinyang, with Xinyang, a crucial Beijing–Wuhan Railway node, representing a particularly important objective. The Japanese advance progressed steadily through the Dabie Mountains, with the 10th executing bold maneuvers to outflank Leshan from the south and the 3rd penetrating toward the Beijing–Wuhan railway north of Xinyang, collectively disrupting and cutting the railway near Xinyang in October. An independent unit, the Okada Detachment, operated between these forces, advancing through Loshan before sealing Xinyang on October 12. The seizure of Xinyang effectively severed Wuhan's northern artery from external reinforcement and resupply, signaling a decisive turn against Wuhan as a Chinese stronghold. While the 2nd Army advanced in the Dabie Mountains, another critical development was taking place far to the south. By the end of 1937, southern China became more crucial to the Republic of China as a lifeline to the outside world. Guangzhou and Hong Kong served as some of the last vital transportation hubs and sources of international aid for Chiang Kai-Shek, with approximately 80 percent of supplies from abroad reaching Chinese forces in the interior through Guangzhou. Imperial General Headquarters believed that a blockade of Guangdong province would deprive China of essential war materiel and the ability to prolong the war. As I always liked to term it, the Japanese were trying to plug up the leaks of supplies coming into China, and Guangzhou was the largest one. In 1936 the Hankow-Canton railway was completed, and together with the Kowloon-Canton railway formed a rapid all-rail link from south China to central and northern China. For the first sixteen months of the war, about 60,000 tons of goods transited per month through the port of Hong Kong. The central government also reported the import of 1.5 million gallons of gasoline through Hong Kong in 1938, and more than 700,000 tons of goods would eventually reach Hankou using the new railway. In comparison, the Soviet Union in 1937 was sending war materiel through Xinjiang to Lanzhou using camels, with Chinese raw materials traveling back either the same route or via Hong Kong to Vladivostok. By 1940, 50,000 camels and hundreds of trucks were transporting 2,000–3,000 tons of Soviet war material per month into China. Japanese planning for operations began in early November 1937, with the blockade's objectives centered on seizing a portion of Daya Bay and conducting air operations from there. In December 1937, the 5th Army, including the 11th Division, the Formosa Mixed Brigade, and the 4th Air Brigade, were activated in Formosa under Lt. Gen. Motoo Furusho to achieve this objective. Due to the proximity of Daya Bay to Hong Kong, the Japanese government feared potential trouble with Britain, and the operation was subsequently suspended, leading to the deactivation of the 5th Army. By June 1938, the Battle of Wuhan convinced Imperial General Headquarters that the fighting could not be localized. The headquarters reversed policy and began preparations to capture Guangzhou and to expedite the settlement of the war. During the peak of the battles of Shanghai and Nanjing, urgent demands for aerial support at the Battle of Taiyuan in the north and at Canton in the south forced the Nationalist Air Force of China to split the 28th Pursuit Squadron and the 5th Pursuit Group , based at Jurong Airbase in the Nanking defense sector. The squadron was divided into two smaller units: Lt. Arthur Chin led one half toward Canton, while Capt. Chan Kee-Wong led the other half to Taiyuan. On September 27, 1937, the 28th PS under Lt. Arthur Chin dispatched four Hawk IIs from Shaoguan Airbase, and the 29th PS under Lt. Chen Shun-Nan deployed three Hawk IIIs from Tianhe Airbase. Their mission was to intercept Japanese IJNAF G3M bombers attempting to strike the Canton–Hankow railway infrastructure. The two flights engaged the Japanese bombers over Canton, claiming at least two kills; one G3M dumped fuel and ditching off the coast of Swatow, with its crew rescued by a British freighter, though one of the gunners died of battle injuries. In October 1937, amid mounting demands and combat losses, the Chinese government ordered 36 Gloster Gladiator Mk.I fighters, whose performance and firepower surpassed that of the Hawk IIs and IIIs, and most of these would become frontline fighters for the Canton defense sector as the war extended into 1938. On February 23, 1938, Capt. John Huang Xinrui, another Chinese-American volunteer pilot, took command of the renewed 29th PS, now equipped with the Gladiators. He led nine Gladiators from Nanxiong Airbase on their first active combat over Canton, supporting three Gladiators from the 28th PS as they intercepted thirteen Nakajima E8N fighter-attack seaplanes launched from the seaplane tenders Notoro Maru and Kinugasa Maru. The battle proved challenging: most of the Gladiators' machine guns jammed, severely reducing their firepower. Despite this, five of the E8Ns were shot down, confirmed by Capt. Huang and his fellow pilots who managed to strike the Japanese aircraft with only one, two, or three functioning guns per Gladiator. Chin later revealed that the gun jams were caused by defective Belgian-made ammunition. The combat nevertheless proved tragic and costly: Lt. Xie Chuanhe (Hsieh Chuan-ho) and his wingman Lt. Yang Rutong pursued the E8Ns but were stymied by inoperable weapons, with Lt. Yang killed in the counterattack, and Lt. Chen Qiwei lost under similar circumstances. The 4th War Area Army, commanded by He Yingqin, was assigned to the defense of south China in 1938. General Yu Hanmou led the 12th Army Group defending Guangdong province. The region's defense included about eight divisions and two brigades of regular army troops stationed around Guangzhou, with an additional five divisions of regular troops deployed in Fujian. The 4th War Area Army totaled roughly 110,000 regular army troops. By this time, most regular army units in Guangxi and four Guangdong divisions had been redirected north to participate in the Battle of Wuhan. Beyond the regular army, two militia divisions were deployed near Guangzhou, and the Guangxi militia comprised five divisions. Militia units were typically raised from local civilians and disbanded as the army moved through new areas. Their roles centered on security, supply transportation, and reconnaissance. Guangdong's main defensive strength was concentrated in Guangzhou and the immediate environs to the city's east. Other Chinese forces defended Chaozhou and western Guangdong. Defensive fortifications included the Humen fortress guarding the Pearl River mouth and three defensive lines near Daya Bay. Guangzhou housed three batteries of four three-inch guns, a battery of three 120mm guns, and Soviet-supplied 37mm anti-aircraft guns. The Imperial Japanese Navy conducted an aerial and naval interdiction campaign aimed at China's communication lines to neighboring regions. Japan believed that the blockade would hasten the end of the war, and disruption of the Chinese logistics network was the primary objective in Guangdong province from August 1937 until October 1938. The 5th Fleet's blockading actions extended along the coast from Haimenchen, Zhejiang to Shantou, with the 5th Destroyer Squadron patrolling the coast south of Shantou. At times, units from the Marianas were deployed to support coastal blockade operations in south China, usually consisting of cruisers accompanied by destroyer flotillas. One or two aircraft carriers and fleet auxiliaries would also be on station. Naval interdictions focused on stopping junks ferrying military supplies from Hong Kong to coastal China. The first recorded attack occurred in September 1937 when eleven junks were sunk by a Japanese submarine. Although Japan successfully blockaded Chinese shipping and ports, foreign shipping could still enter and depart from Hong Kong. The central government had established Hong Kong as a warehouse for munitions and supplies to pass through. Aerial interdictions targeted Chinese railway bridges and trains in Guangdong. Starting in October 1937, the Japanese launched air raids against the Sunning railway, focusing on government facilities and bridges in Jiangmen and towns along the railway. By 1938, airstrikes against the Kowloon–C Canton railway became common, with damaged trains periodically found along the line. An air-defense early warning system was created to divert trains during raids into forested areas that offered overhead concealment. In May 1938, the Colonial Office and the Foreign Office approved a Chinese request to construct and operate a locomotive repair yard within the New Territories to keep the railway operational. Airstrikes against rail facilities in Guangzhou were designed to interrupt rail supplies from Hong Kong so Japan would not need to commit to land operations in south China. However, the air raids did not severely impede railway operations or stop supplies moving through Hunan or Guangxi. The blockade in south China also targeted aircraft flying out of Hong Kong. In November 1937, a Royal Navy aircraft from HMS Eagle encountered Japanese naval anti-aircraft fire off the coast of Hong Kong. In December 1937, fifteen Japanese bombers overflew Lantau Island and the Taikoo docks. In August 1938, Japanese naval aircraft shot down a China National Aviation Corporation passenger plane, and two Eurasia Aviation Corporation passenger planes were shot down the following month. Beyond military targets, the Japanese conducted politically motivated terror bombing in Guangzhou. Bombing intensified from May to June 1938 with incendiary munitions and low-level strafing attacks against ships. The Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service, operating from Formosa and the carrier Kaga, conducted about 400 airstrikes during this period and continued into July. By the end of the summer, Guangzhou's population had dwindled to approximately 600,000 from an original 1.3 million. From August 1937 to October 1938, casualties in Guangzhou were estimated at 6,000 killed and 8,000 injured. On October 12, 1938, Japanese forces from the 21st Army, including the 5th, 18th, and 104th Infantry Divisions, landed in Guangzhou, launching the operation at 4:00 am with elements of the 5th and 18th Divisions hitting Aotou and elements of the 104th Division landing at Hachung in Bias Bay. Initially totaling about 30,000 men, they were soon reinforced by a further 20,000, and resistance was minimal because most of Yu Hanmou's 12th Army Group had been redeployed to central China to defend approaches to Wuhan, leaving only two regular Chinese divisions, the 151st and 153rd, to defend the region. By the night of October 12, the Japanese had established a 10-kilometer-deep beachhead and advanced inland; on October 13 they seized the towns of Pingshan and Tamshui with little opposition, and on October 15 they converged on Waichow and captured it. The fall of Pingshan, located on the Sai Kong River with a deep, broad river and only a flimsy crossing, and Waichow, where Chinese defenses included trenches and concrete pillboxes, surprised observers since these positions had been prepared to resist invasion; nonetheless, Chinese forces fled, opening the road to Guangzhou for the Japanese. Between October 16 and 19, three Japanese columns pushed inland, with the easternmost column crossing the East River on the 16th and the 5th Infantry Division capturing Sheklung on the 19th as Chinese forces retreated. By the night of October 20, Guangzhou's defenders withdrew and adopted a scorched-earth policy to deny resources to the invaders. On October 21, Japanese tanks entered Guangzhou without infantry support, and a regiment from the 5th Infantry Division captured the Bocca Tigris forts with no resistance. With Guangzhou secured, the Guangzhou–Wuhan railway and the Hong Kong–Guangzhou railway were severed, supplies to Wuhan were cut, Chiang Kai-Shek faced a daunting and depressing task, he had to abandon Wuhan. 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 Yangtze became a bloodied artery as Chinese and Japanese forces clashed from Anqing to Jiujiang, Madang to Tianjiazhen. A mosaic of Chinese troops, filled with grit and missteps, held lines while civilians like Wang Guozhen refused to surrender. The siege of Wanjialing crowned Chinese resilience, even as Guangzhou buckled under a relentless blockade. The Fall of Wuhan was all but inevitable.

I would like to thank Patreon member Xizer for suggesting this one, as Xizer put it    “An in depth look at General Kanji Ishiwara would be interesting. The man was the architect for the Mukden Incident that led to the Second Sino Japanese War, but he was vehemently opposed to the abuse and exploitation Japan's colonialism indulged in. His vocal condemnation of the brutality and excesses of the Imperial Japanese military foreign policy and Tojo in particular led to his removal, but he couldn't be executed for popularity in the rank and file. Even at the trials after the war he remained defiant, declaring that President Truman should be tried alongside the Axis War criminals for firebombing Japanese cities. He was truly a fascinating figure.   Indeed Kanji Ishiwara is a fascinating character and his story has a startling impact on the Pacific War and global history as a whole. Now by the time I am reading this the script got out of hand, its a long one haha, so it might have to be a multi parter, but I want to limit the first part to Ishiwara and how the Mukden Incident occurred first. It might come further down the road but I will finish the story of this fascinating man later on after hitting up more Patrons desired subjects, without further adieu enjoy part one of Kanji Ishiwara.    Kanji Ishiwara was born in Tsuruoka, Yamagata prefecture on January 18th of 1889. He was the second son of a policeman who was a descendent of a samurai family serving the Shonai Domain. His clan supported the Tokugawa Shogunate during the Boshin War and as a result of their defeat, alongside other Shogunal allied clans would see themselves shut off from larger governmental positions in Meiji Era Japan. Not to go too deep down that rabbit hole, but domains like Choshu and Satsuma would see the lionshare of higher positions, while domains who served on the opposite side would be cast out more.   Ishiware began his army career at the military preparatory school in Sendai at the age of 13, followed up by 2 years at the Central military preparatory school in tokyo. In 1907 he entered the military academy as a member of its 21st class. He left the academy in july of 1909 with the commission of Lieutenant and an assignment as platoon commander of an infantry regiment in Tohoku. After the annexation of Korea in 1910 his regiment was shipped over to the peninsula and he served at Ch'unch'on in a small garrison. After two years of occupation duty, Ishiwara returned to Tohoku and in 1915 passed the examinations necessary to enter the Army Staff college. He held an outstanding record, graduating top of his class in november of 1918 and would be amongst the elite ranks of the Gunto Gumi, receiving the imperial sword.   Now in 1920 he had a frustrating assignment with the department of military training he applied for service in China and received an assignment to the Central china garrison in Hankow. He spent a year traveling through central china before returning back to Tokyo in 1921 where he worked as a lecturer at the army staff college. He sought another China assignment, but his superiors sent him instead to Europe, as they did with all their promising young officers. He went to Germany for 3 years, studying languages and military history. In 1925, he was now a Major, 36 years of age and he received an assignment to the faculty of the army staff college to lecture about the history of war. Now from the very beginning of his character, Ishiwara proved himself a very unconventional officer. He was on the eccentric side, quite argumentative and burdened with a lot of health problems. He had multiple kidney infections, gastro-intestinal problems, tympanitis and other ailments that clawed at him. You also cant forget his ancestry which was important to the Japanese military even in the 1930s. Many of those that came from a disgraced clan had the habit of going above and beyond in terms of imperial loyalty, sort of like a way to rid themselves of the stigma of distrust that was seen in the early Meiji years.   Ishiwara was a bit bizarre, he was nonconforming, quite an independent spirit you would say. Many biographers of his point out, while he held an outstanding record in his education, this went alongside things like his disregard for military punctilio, such as his dress and appearance. In his early career he spoke out against inequalities he saw within the military such as what he saw as favoritism for staff college graduates. Such talk was quite reckless. He read a lot about politics, religion, history and philosophy, he seemed to have quite the restless mind. His behavior drew attention from his colleagues, many deeming him brilliant.   Now everyone in any military has to learn about military history, but not all seek to learn it outside the required readings and such. Ishiwara is one of those rare individuals who was obsessed with learning more about military history. He read about the Russo Japanese war and took quite a critical look at it. He believed the Japanese victory was due to a large part because of luck. He thought Japan had taken the von Moltke strategy of annihilation, but Russia was simply to large to be dislodged from Asia with a swift stroke. If Russia had preserved herself better, he believed Japan would have lost and it was only by a peculiar set of circumstances that Japan had avoided a war of endurance. Ishiwara believed if such a set of circumstance occurred again, Japan defense planning would need to change dramatically to base itself on the realities of modern warfare. This led him to read thoroughly about WW1 in europe and he looked critically at the differences between a short duration vs long duration war. How prolonged conflicts eventually became total wars where politics, economics and social order played larger roles, than just that of the military. This led him to think of categories for different types of war such as “kessenteki senso / decisive war” and “jizokuteki senso / continuous war”. He viewed these two types as flowing back and forth throughout history, in a cyclical rhythm.    While in Germany he studied Clausewitz, von Moltke and the works of Hans Delbruck. He was particularly taken by Delbrucks niederwerfungstragie “strategy of annihilation, the decisive battle” and ermattungsstrategie “the strategy of exhaustion”. He could see his own theorizes more fleshed out in such works and took quite a liking to them. This brought him to analyze the Napoleonic war as the archetype of the war of annihilation and the wars of Frederick the Great as that of a war of exhaustion.    Now further on in his studies, Ishiwara became convinced like many of his colleagues, that Japan and the United States for reasons of power and ideology were on a set course for war. He also concluded such a war would be a protracted one, that of a strategy of exhaustion. But how could Japan prepare for such a protracted war when her natural resources were so clearly inadequate. This led him to think more so about Asia. Ishiwara believed Asia was an entity distinctly different from the west. He held beliefs that Asia should be liberated and unite. During the Xinhai revolution of 1911, as a young cadet in Korea, Ishiwara was quite excited by the idea China might revitalize itself, but he became disillusioned during his time in China later. In the 1920's he dealt with bandits, warlord era conflicts, chaos and disorder, seeing poverty everywhere, all of this shattered his image of China progressing and reforming herself. He wrote this during that time “Looking at the situation in China, I came to harbor grave doubts as to the political capacities of the chinese race and came to feel that, though they were a people of high cultural attainment, it was impossible for them to construct a modern state”. Despite how disappointed he was with the political problems of China, he was likewise disgusted with how his Japanese colleagues treated the Chinese. He recalled feelings of shame when he saw fellow colleagues in Hankow descending from rickshaws and tossing coins to the ground at the rickshaw mens feet. He would constantly write of how the Japanese needed to shed their racial superiority feelings, but funny enough he would write this alongside his beliefs it was necessary for Japan to help guide nations like China to their destiny. While he may have held beliefs in racial equality between Japan and China, he certainly did not think the same of China's politics. Like the majority of his colleagues he believed China required reform and modernization that Japan should usher in. To Ishiwara the issue at hand was if Japan did not help China, the west would aggressively do so and thus subjugate her further. To Ishiwara China needed liberation. Ishiwara also linked the incoming war between Japan and the United States to play a large role for what would occur between China and Japan.   Ishiwara like many Japanese officers held beliefs concerning the Kokutai. I will try to summarize exactly what the Kokutai is, but honestly its a unbelievably complex cultural phenomenon. The Kokutai was a spiritual motive force that influenced the Japanese military. It can be viewed as the national character of Japan. Japan was a constitutional monarchy that held the Kokutai (national body or character)  and Seitai (government body/structure). Thus there was in reality two ideologies, one held the traditional belief focusing on that of the emperor and that of the official government. If I were to give you a overly confusing summary, I would tell you “Japan is run by the emperor and the government simultaneously” this of course if confusing as hell, and it should be. Article 4 of the former Japanese constitution held “the emperor is the head of the empire, combining in himself the right of sovereignty, uniting the executive, legislative and judicial branches of government, although subject to the consent of the imperial diet”. Its like saying you have an absolute monarch, but he will be listening and following the democratically elected people. This contradiction would lead to the Pacific War. A large issue that would emerge is that the constitution literally said the navy and army were controlled by the Emperor and not the political diet. Thus many in the military viewed themselves subject to the Kokutai, which as an ideology would evolve dramatically from the Meiji era to the Showa Era. For example, what if you are a military high ranking officer who views the political elites as nothing more than criminals, taking the emperor hostage against his will and thus against the will of the Japanese people. Well this might lead you to try and overthrow the government to make sure the Emperor was really in charge as you think he should be. A real rabbit hole I could go down.   Ishiwara had a unique view of the Kokutai. In his early education he wrote this about his doubt on understanding it as a principal. “Even though I, myself, because of my training…had come to have an unshakeable faith in the kokutai I began to lack confidence that I could imparts this belief to others –to the common soldier, to the civilian, to non-Japanese”. His issue was how did the Kokutai apply outside Japan? How could its value transcend the national boundaries and interests of Japan? If a Japanese soldier was to sacrifice his life for the Kokutai, how did this take on any meaning for men of all races? How could the kokutai's supra-national value by linked to other outside ideologies?   Ishiwara found some answers to these questions in Nichiren Buddhism. It seems here he was able to combine his conceptions about war, history and national purpose. Now Ishiwara did not come from a religious family. He dabbled in christianity for a bit, but did not pursue it. Shinto likewise did not sufficiently fulfill Shiwara' beliefs. Nichiren Buddhism is strongly patriotic, has a apocalyptic character to it and represents a holy mission to be the religion for all mankind with the center of propagation as Japan. There was this kind of quasi idea of world regeneration behind it with Japan as the moral righteous leader. Thus as you can imagine the Kokutai and Nichiren buddhism sort of fit like a glove in many ways.    Utilizing Nichiren Buddhism, the kokutai could be raised from its purely national dogma and be amplified to the entire world. Ishiwara was introduced to all of this by Tanaka Chigaku who was part of the Kokuchukai “national pillar society” a nichiren nationalist organization with an HQ in tokyo. After attending a public meeting held by Tanaka, he quickly converted to Kokuchukai and he would write down in his journal “I was attracted to the Nichiren faith's view of the kokutai”. Nichiren buddhism.    One aspect of Kokuchukai's nichirenism that greatly appealed to Ishiwara was its combative passages. Ishiwara would justify and attribute much of the military force Japan used on the asian continent drawing parallels to Nicherns idea of drawing the sword to defend righteousness. He often quoted nichirens statement “that the significance of the art of war appears in the wonderful law”. Ishiwara become engulfed by the nichiren doctrine and came to believe in its prediction that there would be a “Zendai mimon no dai toso / titanic world conflict, unprecedented in human history”, something like a global armageddon. After this would come a reign of universal and eternal peace under the harmony of “the wonderful law”.   While in Germany Ishiwara became convinced that if Japan and the United States were destined for war and the US won that war, the kokutai would be destroyed. He took the trans-siberian railway enroute back to Japan and stopped in Harbin. There he met with Nichiren believers and he spoke to them about his idea of “a final war”. He stated he believed it would come through religious prediction and his military analysis. He warned everyone Japan must hasten herself for it and that “the final war is fast approaching”. Ishiwara came back to Japan in 1925 fired up with conviction to lecture at the army staff college about his final war. His audience was the army's bright and youthful officers. He taught them Frederican and Napoleonic campaigns, Moltke and WW1 and of course his thoughts on the future conflict before them all. The Army staff college continuously called for him to expand his lectures because they were so popular. Then in 1927 he drafted an essay titled “Genzai oyobi shorai Nihon no kokubo / Japan's present and future national defense”. Here he spoke about the inevitable war between the US and Japan. These were quite provocative and took a hell of a lot of attention from colleagues. Later on in april of 1931, he would brief his fellow Kwantung officers using the essay, arguing the need for decisive action on the asian mainland.   In 1928 he would have given another course on European war, but he came down with influenza and was forced to take leave. As he was getting better he was hit with a case of tympanitis in his ear and had to be hospitalized for 6 months. It was to be one of many ailments that would grind at his health. He eventually was drawn into an elite study circle to talk about war theories led by Major Suzuki. The group consisted of young reformist type officers who talked about political and military issues. He carried on his work on the final war and eventually wrote “Sensoshi taikan / general outline of the history of war” which was delivered as a lecture before Kwantung officers at Changch'un in Manchuria on July 4th of 1929. It would receive revisions in 1931, 1938 and became a book of the same title after 1941. As he began lecturing using Sensoshi taiken he also circulated amongst an inner circle within the Kwantung army “kokuun tenkai no konpon kokusakutaru man-mo mondai kaiketsuan / Plan for the solution of the Manchuria and Mongolia problem as a basic national policy to revolutionize our country's destiny”, what a title. As you might guess the plan called for occupying Manchuria in preparation for the upcoming war with America. By the way, all of his lectures and works would gain so much fame, he was asked in 1936 to adapt the materials for a text on military history for Emperor Hirohito.    Now the 1930's were quite a tense time for Japan. The Japanese leadership saw Marxism everywhere, and believed it was withering away their nation. Japanese liberal types were arguing the military budget was out of hand, many were calling for reduction. To Ishiwara it was insanity, how could Japan not arm itself? Marxists preached communism would save Japan; Liberals preached true democracy would save Japan; Ishiwara and many in the army preached the Kokutai would save Japan. Ishiwara preached his final war theories and that the coming apocalypse would not see an American synthesis, but a supreme victory for the Japanese kokutai that would unify the world. “Japan must be victorious not for the sake of her own national interest, but for the salvation of the world. The last war in human history is approaching, Nichiren's titanic world conflict, unprecedented in human history”.   From the offset of his initial theories, Ishiwara believed the final war would be a strategy of exhaustion. But WW1 and the 1920's brought technological advances such as tanks, poison gas and the airplane. The airplane in particular made Ishiwara believe the defensive stalemate seen in WW1 was coming to an end. Airpower could deliver bomb loads past all known defenses such as naval surface units, fortresses, armies with automatic weapons. He believed the final war would see absolute horrors brought upon the greatest cities of the world. London, Shanghai, Paris even Tokyo would be wiped out within a day of the commencement of hostilities. Air bombardment would deliver victory and he would be quite right about that in regards to what would happen to Japan. He believed such a war would be waged only once and “we will enter an age where war will become impossible because of the ultimate development of war technology”.   Ishiwara argued Japan must directly or indirectly control Manchuria and to a lesser degree over parts of China. He asserted Japan had a moral obligation to the asian continent and a special relationship to Manchuria and China. China must be stabilized, for her people were threatened by turmoil, corruption and conflict. He argued Japan would be eventually obliged for the sake of peace and the welfare of the Chinese people to take a more active effort to stabilize her, particularly in Manchuria. He wrote in 1930 “To save China, which has known no peace, is the mission of Japan, a mission, which, at the same time, is the only means for the salvation of Japan itself. To accomplish this task it is an urgent matter that the interference of the United States be eliminated”. Ironically, he was advocating that in order to prepare for a conflict with the US, Japan must take a stronger hand in Manchuria and China…which would probably force the United States to confront her. He advocated against the strategy of a decisive battle at sea, instead emphasizing a continental strategy. “If the worst comes about and the war at sea turns against us, if proper measures have been taken, Japanese forces on the Asian mainland can be made self-sufficient and the war continued.” Above all else, Manchuria was the key, alongside parts of Mongolia and China.    In 1931 he began writing about how China needed to reform and it would be in her best interest to accept Japanese guidance. He saw China as the most valuable ally to be beside Japan in the event of war with the United States. If anything he argued Japan must try to not become involved in a war with China, every effort should be made to avoid provoking such an event. Yet as he continued his writing he began to see the diplomatic issues play out between China and Japan and came to the conclusion, “every attempt should be made to avoid provoking China, but in the event that it is impossible to bring about China's understanding, then Nanking should be swiftly attacked and north and central China occupied” way to go 0-60. His attitudes to Britain and Russia were quite similar, every effort should be made to remain friendly, but in the case of war Hong Kong and Malaya should be quickly occupied or in the case of the USSR, predetermined objectives inside Siberia should be seized quickly.    Now lets talk about Manchuria, specifically Manchuria in the late 1920's. Manchuria was in a huge tug of war between Russia, China and Japan. Her ties to China proper were severed by years of warlordism allowing Japan to grow her position. For Japan, the quote “manchurian problem” as it would be known centered on a single question “how to consolidate and expand it under Japanese influence in the face of an expanding China”. Japan saw 3 viable methods, taking control over the south manchuria railway, using the kwantung army and Japanese colonists, the good old filibuster approach. Each of these 3 methods offered different approaches to the same problem which of course would have very different outcomes.    Controlling the railway allowed quite a lot of control over southern Manchuria. The issue with this of course being Japan having to constantly fight off Chinese political efforts against such control. Zhang Zuolin, the Tiger of Manchuria and arguably greatest of the warlords of China held control over Manchuria and was firmly acting in Japanese interests, but for how long would he play ball? To the Kwantung Army members operating in and around Manchuria, the northern expedition of Chiang Kai-shek was getting out of hand and threatening Zhang Zuolin and thus their interests as well. Anti-Japanese sentiment was only getting worse as the northern expedition climbed north. The Kwangtung army sought more than anything to assert and retain their control over Manchuria, because it offered a buffer against the USSR. Anything that threatened that control had to be dealt with. Ultimately it was believed by many in the Kwantung Army that Manchuria would have to be separated officially from China and in order for this to occur, Japan would most likely need to use force.    Senior officers of the Kwantung army were invited in June of 1927 for a meeting called upon by Premier Tanaka Giichi. The purpose of the meeting was to formulate Japan's policy toward China and Manchuria. A more radical Kwantung army group headed by Colonel Komoto Daisaku sought to eliminate Zhang Zuolin, as he was increasingly being seen as a major obstacle to Japanese ambitions in Manchuria. Well they would do just that in 1928 when Zhang Zuolin was assassinated via a bomb placed on train tracks known as the Huanggutun incident. The assassination did not work out as the Kwantung Army officers thought it would. Instead of their groomed puppet General Yang Yuting taking up the role as leader of Manchuria, it went instead to Zhang Zuolin's son, Zhang Xueliang, who lets just say was not too happy the Japanese had obviously killed his father. Thus the Kwantung Army did not assert the forceful policy they wanted in Manchuria, they had actually made it worse for them.   The half-hearted investigation into those responsible for killing Zhang Zuolin, led to the removal of Colonel Komoto from his post. Tanaka's cabinet was toppled. The Kwantung army were now embarrassed and angry that their stance in Manchuria was weakened. The Japanese colonists within Manchuria felt more threatened and called more so upon the Kwantung army for protection against Chinese nationalists wishing to kick them out. The Kwantung army was grasping at straws trying to think of a way to sever Manchuria from China. In 1928, Ishiwara was a lt colonel and he was consulted in length by Kwantung officers about his views on the Manchurian problem. While he had not fully hashed out his Final War theory by this point, he nonetheless spoke about the fundamentals of it, arguing the necessity of taking action to control Manchuria. For the next few years, all efforts were made by Kwantung officers to influence policy towards Manchuria. Ishiwara's ideas were being stimulated and influencing the debate over Manchuria amongst his high ranking colleagues. In October of 1928, Ishiwara sought and received an appointment to the Kwantung army staff. The assignment was to be as an operations officer and his number one backer was Colonel Komoto Daisaku. It seemed Komoto saw Ishiwara as the firebrand necessary to push the Manchurian policies they wanted.   When Ishiwara arrived at Port Arthur, he found the Kwantung Army HQ in a state of confusion and demoralization. This of course was a large part due to the cluster fuck of a failure from the bombing of Zhang Zuolin. The investigation into the assassination led to many shifts within the Kwantung army staff, many quite restrictive. Even though Komoto's career was shattered by the Zhang Zuolin failure, he kept arguing to his colleagues that the Manchurian crisis hamukdend to be resolved by force. Ishiwara it seems agreed with this and during the early months of 1929 worked alongside Komoto, planning operations against Chinese forces in the Mukden area. By spring of 1929, Komoto was officially being kicked out. By May he was relegated to a divisional backwater in Japan and by June he was out of the army. This did not mean however that he lost influence on Manchurian affairs. Komoto's replacement was Lt Colonel Itagaki Seishiro and old comrade of Ishiwara since Sendai military preparatory school.    For the next two and a half years, Ishiwara and Itagaki worked alongside other Kwantung Army staff to solve the Manchurian problem as they saw it. By the mid 1931's the idea Manchuria needed to be seized via force was now the mainstream viewpoint for the Kwantung army in general. Ishiwara believed firmly that Japan could no longer stand idle in Manchuria, because every day that went by saw little by little, Japan relinquishing rights and interests in Manchuria to China, and at some point they would simply be kicked out. To “quit manchuria” would be a national disaster, they would lose their buffer state, the resources and the land for their booming population to emigrate to. Simply put Manchuria was the steroid keeping Japan alive, she needed it to continue to grow. Ishiwara would often say “manchuria provides Japan with breathing space” where have we heard that type of talk before?. To the military heads in Tokyo Ishikawa would often assert Manchuria had to be seized via force, because of the soviethreat of the USSR and communism as a whole “In view of the traditional russian policy in that area, once the soviets advanced into manchuria, it would become a base for the communization of asia. Not only would the internal stability of manchuria become impossible to maintain, but Japan would be unable to maintain its own national defense, and China's defenses, too, would become imperialized". The Army HQ in Tokyo likewise agreed Manchuria was the vital defensive line against the USSR. But unlike the Kwantung army who sought all of Manchuria, the heads in Tokyo sought to absorb southern Manchuria via the south manchurian railway and did not seek anything north of it. Ishiwara however assumed the only way Japan could prevent the USSR from placing pressure on southern Manchuria was no less that Japan having to occupy northern Manchuria and even further north towards the Amur River so Japan could control the mountain ranges flanking western and eastern frontiers of northern manchuria.  Once Japan controlled northern Manchuria, Ishiwara stated in 1931 “With the solution of our defense problems in the north, we would then be free to plan an advance in any direction: to China proper, for example, or even to Southeast Asia”.   Ishiwara took all of this a step further, after Manchuria was conquered, Japan would have to somehow administer and pacify the peoples of it. Ishiwara argued the stability of Manchuria would be developed through the special talents of various races living there. The Chinese would develop the small businesses in the region, the Koreans would use their paddy farming knowledge, etc. These racial ideas would contribute to the development of Manchukuo and the greater east asia co-prosperity sphere. But above all else, Manchuria would serve the interests of Japan, many of which would be exploitative and economic in nature.    By early 1930 Ishiwara and Itagaki worked out a plan using the same strategy used during the Russo-Japanese war, a surprise night attack. The Kwantung army would assault the Liaoning area hitting important Chinese garrisons. The plans had to be meticulous as the Kwantung army was severely smaller than most of the Manchurian forces led by Zhang Xueliang. Around Mukden alone Zhang held 20,000 men well equipped with aircraft and tanks. Throughout all of Manchuria, if a war arose, Zhang could assemble roughly 250,000 troops to bear down on an enemy. The Kwantung army meanwhile could muster 10,000 men which were basically garrison units around the railway. They did not have significant aircraft nor mechanized forces at hand, and were pretty poorly equipped to boot. Ishiwara's answer to the disparity in forces called for the use of intelligence and rigorous training. He sought to perfect specific assault techniques so that when the conflict broke out, the Japanese would use lightning speed and effective concentration of force to overwhelm the Chinese. The plan overall was remarkably simplistic, wagering everything on dealing a crushing blow at the center of Zhang Xueliangs military powerbase at the Peitaying barracks at Mukden. If this fell, he predicted the enemy's morale would break, giving the Kwantung the necessary military and psychological momentum to subdue the surrounding areas. If the USSR got involved, the plan would have gone to utter shit.   One important variable Ishiwara highlighted was the necessity to pull off the operation before any attempt to restructure the domestic order in Japan occurred. Ishiwara knew his arguments and those of his colleagues would influence the heads in Tokyo, and they had to act before they did. However the heads at Tokyo and the Kwantung army held very different perspectives on when to act. In June of 1931 the Central army HQ stated in its General Outline of a solution to the Manchurian problem “we must defer the question of military action for a whole year. During this time the foreign ministry would attempt to dampen anti japanese activities in manchuria through negotiations with the government of Nanking. In the meantime the government would launch an information campaign to try and drive acquiescence at home and aboard for military action ”. Ishiwara as you can imagine was very bitter about the idea of prolonging for a year and argued the international environment meant they must strike immediately. The Soviet 5 year plan was still in mid course; the US, Britain and France had yet to overcome their financial crisis and could offer limited resistance in the far east and most obviously the Nationalist regime in China was still busy in its unification efforts south of the Great wall, but that would change soon. If they waited a year all of this would change for the worse, the time was now or never to Ishiwara.   In july of 1931 Ishiwara and Itagki organized a final major staff reconnaissance designed to get the newest Kwantung officers up to date with northern Manchuria. To cover for what they were doing they told high command it was a survey against the USSR, but it was of course to investigate the Chinese power in northern manchuria. On their return trip, the party heard of the disappearance of one Kwantung staff officer, captain Nakamura Shintaro. Ishiwara and the others found out when they reached Port Arthur and the rumor spread that Captain Nakamura had been killed by Chinese soldiers under “mysterious circumstances”. Now over the past few months there had been violent riots, murders, work strikes and other incidents occurring in Manchuria. The Nakamura affair flared all of these tensions up. Seeing the paint on the wall, Chinese and Japanese foreign ministries tried to negotiate the issue, but those at the central army HQ like Nagata Tetsuzan who were sympathetic to the impatience of their Kwantung colleagues felt compelled to aid them. For Ishiwara the issue was clear as he wrote “the Nakamura incident adds just one more issue to the others. What the army should do now is to ignore the foreign ministry and solve the problem by taking matters into its own hands”. And that is just what he did. The Kwantung officers took their forces outside the railway zone, which they had been restricted to and without waiting for approval from Itagaki who was in Japan at the time, initiated the steps to despatch an armored train and a mixed regiment of infantry and artillery forces to go to Mukden to get the Chinese military to help investigate the Nakamura disappearance. Tokyo got word of this and dispatched a telegram to stop their departure from the railway and to not use the Nakamura incident as a way to use force to solve the manchurian problem.   For Ishiwara this was the last straw. On August 20th he sent a message to Nagata condemning the current diplomatic situation and that negotiations were an utter waste of time. “There is no way to settle the matter except by placing it in the hands of the army. If central hq finds it so difficult to trust its field personnel then it had better replace them with representatives more suitable to the conditions it imagines to exist in Manchuria”. Ishiwara doubled down and pushed for a plot to provoke military conflict outside of Mukden. As he wrote in almost a messianic Nichiren conviction ‘I will be the pillar of Japan; I will be the eyes of Japan; I will be the great vessel of Japan” .   “Gekokujo / ruling from below” is a Japanese historical term referring to when subordinates defy or manipulate their superiors. Ishiwara and his like minded close colleagues were about to perform Gekokujo. On september 18th, 1931 a bomb was planted by the Kwantung army on the tracks of the south manchuria railway at Liutiaokou and it exploded. Japanese troops under the guise the bomb was a “chinese terrorist attack” moved to swiftly overrun the Peitaying barracks. Ishiwara's plot had finally unfolded. 

Last time we spoke about the flooding of the Yellow River. As Japanese forces pressed toward central China, Chiang Kai-shek weighed a desperate gamble: defend majestic Wuhan with costly sieges, or unleash a radical plan that would flood its heart. Across/Xuzhou, Taierzhuang, and the Yellow River's bend near Zhengzhou, commanders fought a brutal, grinding war. Chinese units, battered yet stubborn, executed strategic retreats and furious counteroffensives. But even as brave soldiers stalled the enemy, the longer fight threatened to drain a nation's will and leave millions unprotected. Then a striking idea surfaced: breach the dikes of the Yellow River at Huayuankou and flood central China to halt the Japanese advance. The plan was terrifying in its moral cost, yet it offered a temporary shield for Wuhan and time to regroup. Workers, farmers, soldiers, laborers—pushed aside fear and toiled through the night, water rising like a raging tide. The flood bought months, not victory. It punished civilians as much as it protected soldiers, leaving a nation to confront its own hard choices and the haunting question: was survival worth the price?   #172 The Road to Wuhan 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. Following the Battle of Xuzhou and the breaching of the Yangtze dykes, Wuhan emerged as Japan's next military objective for political, economic, and strategic reasons. Wuhan served as the interim capital of the Kuomintang government, making it a crucial center of political authority. Its fall would deprive China of a vital rail and river hub, thereby further crippling the Chinese war effort. From a strategic perspective, Japanese control of a major rail and river junction on the Yangtze would enable westward expansion and provide a base for further advances into central and southern China. For these reasons, the Intelligence Division of the Army General Staff assessed that the capture of Wuhan would likely deliver the decisive blow needed to conclude the Second Sino-Japanese War.  Recognizing Wuhan's strategic importance, both the National Revolutionary Army and the Imperial Japanese Army committed substantial forces to the city and its approaches. The IJA deployed roughly 400,000 troops, while the NRA fielded at least 800,000. China began the war with an estimated regular force of 1.7 to 2.2 million men, organized into six broad loyalty-based categories around Chiang Kai-shek's command. Directly loyal troops formed the first group, followed by a second tier of soldiers who had previously supported Chiang but were less tightly controlled. The next category consisted of provincial troops that Chiang could ordinarily influence, while a fourth group included provincial units over which his sway was weaker. The fifth category comprised Communist forces, the Eighth Route Army in the northwest and the New Fourth Army forming in the central Yangtze region. The final category consisted of Northeastern or Manchurian units loyal to Zhang Xueliang, known as the “Young Marshal.” The first two categories together accounted for roughly 900,000 men, with about a million more in independent provincial armies, and roughly 300,000 in Communist and Manchurian forces. As commander-in-chief, Chiang could effectively command only about half of the mobilizable units at the outbreak of war in July 1937, which meant that military decisions were often slow, fraught with negotiation, and administratively cumbersome. Division-level coordination and communication proved particularly challenging, a stark contrast to the Japanese command structure, which remained clean and disciplined. Geographically, most of Chiang's loyal troops were located in the corridor between the Yangtze and the Yellow rivers at the start of 1938. Having participated heavily in the defense of Shanghai and Nanjing, they retreated to Wuhan at about half strength, with an already decimated officer corps. They then numbered around 400,000 and were commanded by generals Chen Cheng and Hu Zongnan. The northern regional armies, especially Han Fuju's forces in Shandong, had suffered severe losses; some units defected to the Japanese and later served as puppet troops. After six months of Japanese onslaught that cost the coastal and central regions—Peiping-Tianjin to Shanghai and inland toward Nanjing—much of the relatively autonomous, sizable armies remained from the southwest or northwest, under leaders such as Li Zongren, Bai Chongxi (Guangxi), Long Yun (Yunnan), and Yan Xishan (Shanxi and Suiyuan). Roughly 700,000 of these troops—predominantly from Guangxi under Li and Bai—were committed to the defense of Wuhan. The Communist forces, by contrast, numbered about 100,000 and remained relatively unscathed in bases north and east of Xi'an. In total, approximately 1.3 million men were under arms in defense of Wuhan. In December 1937, the Military Affairs Commission was established to determine Wuhan's defense strategy. Following the loss of Xuzhou, the National Revolutionary Army redeployed approximately 1.1 million troops across about 120 divisions. The commission organized the defense around three main fronts: the Dabie Mountains, Poyang Lake, and the Yangtze River, in response to an estimated 200,000 Japanese troops spread over 20 divisions of the Imperial Japanese Army. Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi, commanding the Fifth War Zone, were assigned to defend the north of the Yangtze, while Chen Cheng, commanding the Ninth War Zone, was tasked with defending the south. The First War Zone, situated to the west of the Zhengzhou–Xinyang segment of the Pinghan Railway, was responsible for halting Japanese forces advancing from the North China Plain, and the Third War Zone, located between Wuhu, Anqing, and Nanchang, was charged with protecting the Yuehan Railway. Following the Japanese occupation of Xuzhou in May 1938, they sought to expand the invasion. The IJA decided to dispatch a vanguard to occupy Anqing as a forward base for an assault on Wuhan. The main force would then advance north of the Dabie Mountains along the Huai River, with the objective of eventually capturing Wuhan via the Wusheng Pass. A second detachment would move west along the Yangtze. However, a flood from the Yellow River forced the IJA to abandon plans to advance along the Huai and instead to attack along both banks of the Yangtze. Despite Chinese numerical superiority on the Wuhan front, roughly a 2:1 advantage, the offensive faced several complicating factors. The NRA was a heterogeneous, fragmented force with a variety of tables of organization and equipment, and it lacked the unified command structure that characterized the IJA. Historian Richard Frank notes the broad diversity of Chinese forces at the outbreak of the war, which hindered cohesive mobile and strategic operations: “Chiang commanded armies of 2,029,000 troops of highly variegated capability and loyalty. His personal forces included an elite cadre of three hundred-thousand German-trained and eighty-thousand German armed men. A second stratum of the Chinese armies, numbering roughly 600,000 included various regional commands loyal to Chiang in the past that generally conformed to his directives. These troops were better armed and trained than the rest. The third category encompassed a million men who were neither loyal nor obedient to Chiang”. The NRA faced a significant disadvantage in both quantity and quality of equipment compared to the Japanese. The disparity was stark in artillery allocations. An IJA infantry division possessed 48 field and mountain guns, whereas a German-equipped Chinese division had only 16. In terms of regiment and battalion guns, a Japanese division had 56, while a German-equipped Chinese division possessed just 30. Of roughly 200 Chinese infantry divisions in 1937, only 20 were German-equipped, and merely eight of those met their paper-strength standards. Many Chinese divisions had no artillery at all, and those that did often lacked radios or forward-observation capabilities to ensure accurate fire. These deficiencies placed the NRA at a clear disadvantage in firepower when facing the Japanese. These equipment gaps were compounded by poor training and tactical doctrine. The NRA lacked adequate training facilities and did not incorporate sufficient field maneuvers, gun handling, or marksmanship into its program. Although the 1935 drill manual introduced small-group “open order” tactics, many formations continued to fight in close-order formations. In an era when increased firepower rendered close-order tactics obsolete, such formations became a liability. The NRA's failure to adapt dispersed assault formations limited its tactical effectiveness. Defensively, the NRA also faced serious shortcomings. Units were often ordered to create deep positions near key lines of communication, but Chinese forces became overly dependent on fixed fortifications, which immobilized their defense. Poor intelligence on Japanese movements and a lack of mobile reserves, there were only about 3,000 military vehicles in China in 1937, meant that Japanese infantry could easily outflank fixed NRA positions. Moreover, the Japanese enjoyed superiority in artillery, enabling them to suppress these fixed positions more effectively. These realities left Chinese defenses vulnerable, especially in the war's first year. The leadership deficit within the NRA, reflected in limited officer training, further constrained operational effectiveness. Chiang Kai-shek reportedly warned that Chinese commanders often equaled their counterparts in rank but did not outmatch them in competence. Only 2,000 commanders and staff officers had received training by 1937, and many staff officers had no military training at all. Overall, about 29.1 percent of NRA officers had no military education, severely limiting professional development and command capability. With the exception of the Guangxi divisions, Chinese units were hampered by an unnecessarily complex command structure. Orders from Chiang Kai-shek needed to pass through six tiers before action could be taken, slowing decision-making and responsiveness. In addition, Chiang favored central army units under direct control with loyal commanders from the Whampoa clique when distributing equipment, a pattern that bred discord and insubordination across levels of the Chinese field forces. Beyond structural issues, the Chinese force organization suffered from a lack of coherence due to competing influences. The forces had been reorganized along German-inspired lines, creating large field armies arranged as “war zones,” while Russian influence shaped strategic positioning through a division into “front” and “route” armies and separate rear-area service units. This mix yielded an incoherent force facing the Japanese. Troop placement and support procedures lacked rationalization: Chiang and his generals often sought to avoid decisive confrontation with Japan to minimize the risk of irreversible defeat, yet they also rejected a broad adoption of guerrilla warfare as a systematic tactic. The tendency to emphasize holding railway lines and other communications tied down the main fighting forces, around which the Japanese could maneuver more easily, reducing overall operational flexibility. Despite these deficiencies, NRA officers led roughly 800,000 Chinese troops deployed for the Battle of Wuhan. On the Wuhan approaches, four war zones were organized under capable if overextended leadership: 1st, 3rd, 5th, and 9th. The 5th War Zone, commanded by Li Zongren, defended north of the Yangtze to protect the Beijing–Wuhan railway. Chen Cheng's Ninth War Zone defended south of the Yangtze, aiming to prevent seizure of Jiujiang and other key cities on approaches to Wuhan. The 1st War Zone focused on stopping Japanese forces from the northern plains, while Gu Zhutong's 3rdWar Zone, deployed between Wuhu, Anqing, and Nanchang, defended the Yuehan railway and fortified the Yangtze River. Japan's Central China Expeditionary Army, commanded by Hata Shunroku, spearheaded the Wuhan advance. The CCEA consisted of two armies: the 2nd Army, which included several infantry divisions under Prince Naruhiko Higashikuni, and the 11th Army, advancing along the Yangtze's northern and southern banks under Okamura Yasuji. The 2nd Army aimed to push through the Dabie Mountains and sever Wuhan from the north, while the 11th Army would converge on Wuhan in a concentric operation to envelop the city. The Japanese forces were augmented by 120 ships from the 3rd Fleet of the Imperial Japanese Navy under Koshirō Oikawa, more than 500 aircraft from the Imperial Japanese Army Air Service, and five divisions from the Central China Area Army tasked with guarding Shanghai, Beijing, Hangzhou, and other key cities. These forces were intended to protect the back of the main Japanese thrust and complete the preparations for a major battle. The Kuomintang, led by Chiang Kai-shek, was acutely aware that Japan aimed to strike at Wuhan. Facing Japan's firepower and bold offensives, Chiang and his commanders pursued a strategy of attrition at the Wuchang conference in January 1938. Central China would be the primary theater of China's protracted struggle, distant from Japan's existing center of gravity in Manchuria. Chiang hoped Japan's manpower and resources would be exhausted as the empire pushed deeper into Central China. Eventually, Japan would be forced either to negotiate a settlement with China or to seek foreign assistance to obtain raw materials. The mountainous terrain to the north and south of the Yangtze presented natural obstacles that the Chinese believed would hinder large-scale concentration of Japanese forces. North of the Yangtze, the Dabie Mountains provided crucial flank protection; to the south, rugged, roadless terrain made expansive maneuvering difficult. In addition to these natural barriers, Chinese forces fortified the region with prepared, in-depth defenses, particularly in the mountains. The rugged terrain was expected to help hold back the Japanese offensive toward Wuhan and inflict substantial casualties on the attackers. The Yangtze itself was a critical defensive factor. Although the Chinese Navy was largely absent, they implemented several measures to impede amphibious operations. They constructed gun positions at key points where the river narrowed, notably around the strongholds at Madang and Tianjiazhen. Specialized units, such as the Riverine Defense Force, were deployed to defend these river fortifications against amphibious assaults. To reinforce the Riverine Defense Force, Chinese forces sank 79 ships in the Yangtze to create obstacles for potential Japanese naval advances. They also laid thousands of mines to constrain Japanese warships. These defensive measures were designed to slow the Japanese advance and complicate their logistics. The Chinese aimed to exploit stalled offensives to strike at exposed flanks and disrupted supply lines, leveraging terrain and fortified positions to offset Japan's superior firepower. On 18 February 1938, an Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service strike force comprising at least 11 A5M fighters of the 12th and 13th Kōkūtais, led by Lieutenant Takashi Kaneko, and 15 G3M bombers of the Kanoya Kokutai, led by Lieutenant Commander Sugahisa Tuneru, raided Wuhan and engaged 19 Chinese Air Force I-15 fighters from the 22nd and 23rd Pursuit Squadrons and 10 I-16 fighters from the 21st Pursuit Squadron, all under the overall command of the 4th Pursuit Group CO Captain Li Guidan. They faced a Soviet Volunteer Group mix of Polikarpov fighters as well. The 4th Group fighters claimed at least four A5Ms shot down, while the Soviet group claimed no fewer than three A5Ms. Both the Japanese fighter group commander, Lieutenant Kaneko, and the Chinese fighter group commander, Captain Li, were killed in action during the battle. A largely intact A5M downed in the engagement was recovered with a damaged engine; it was the second intact A5M to be recovered, repaired, and flight-tested in the war, following the first recovered-intact A5M credited to Colonel Gao Zhihang during an air battle over Nanjing on 12 October 1937. On 3 August 1938, 52 Chinese fighters, including 20 I-15s, 13 I-16s, 11 Gloster Gladiators, and 7 Hawk IIIs, intercepted at least 29 A5Ms and 18 G3Ms over Hankou. The Guangxi era pilots Zhu Jiaxun and He Jermin, along with Chinese-American fighter pilots Arthur Chin and Louie Yim-qun, all flying Gladiators, claimed at least four A5Ms shot down on that day. The Wuhan Campaign began in earnest when the Imperial Japanese Army's 3rd and 13th Infantry Divisions advanced north of the Yangtze River. Central China Expeditionary Army commander Hata Shunroku designated Shouxian, Zhengyangguan, and the Huainan coal mine as the objectives for the 3rd and 13th Infantry Divisions. Meanwhile, the 6th Infantry Division, part of the 11th Army, advanced toward Anqing from Hefei. The 6th Infantry Division coordinated with the Hata Detachment, which launched an amphibious assault from the river. The 2nd Army's sector saw immediate success. On June 3, the 3rd Infantry Division seized the Huainan coal mine; two days later, it captured Shouxian. The 13th Infantry Division also secured Zhengyangguan on that day. The 6th Infantry Division then made rapid progress immediately north of the Yangtze River, taking Shucheng on June 8 and Tongcheng on June 13. These advances forced the Chinese 77th Corps and the 21st and 26th Army Groups to withdraw to a line spanning Huoshan, Lu'an, and Fuyang. More critically, the Hata Detachment crossed the Yangtze River and landed behind the Chinese 27th Army Group's 20th Corps. The sudden appearance of Japanese forces in their rear forced the two Chinese divisions defending Anqing to withdraw. The fall of Anqing represented a major Japanese success, as they gained control of an airfield crucial for receiving close air support. After battles around Shucheng, Tongcheng, and Anqing, all three cities and their surrounding countryside suffered extensive damage. Much of this damage resulted from air raids that indiscriminately targeted soldiers and civilians alike. In Shucheng, the raids were reportedly aided by a Chinese traitor who displayed a red umbrella to guide daylight bombing on May 10, 1938. This air raid caused substantial destruction, killing or wounding at least 160 people and destroying more than a thousand homes. The town of Yimen also endured aerial destruction, with raids killing over 400 people and destroying 7,000 homes. Yimen and Shucheng were among many Chinese towns subjected to terror bombing, contributing to widespread civilian casualties and the destruction of livelihoods across China. The broader pattern of air raids was enabled by a lack of quality fighter aircraft and trained pilots, allowing Japanese bombers free rein against Chinese cities, towns, and villages. While the aerial assaults caused immense damage, the atrocities committed in these cities were even more severe. In Anhui, where Shucheng, Anqing, and Tongcheng were located, the Japanese brutality was on full display. The brutality can be partly understood as an attempt to destroy China's will and capacity to wage war, yet the extremity of some acts points to a warped martial culture within the Japanese Army, which appeared to encourage murder, torture, rape, and other crimes. Indeed, the Army eventually enshrined this brutality in its doctrine with the so-called “three alls”: kill all, burn all, loot all.  These acts, and more, were carried out in Anhui during the summer of 1938 as the Japanese advanced up the Yangtze River. In Anqing, the Hata Detachment killed at least 200 people without compunction. A further 36 civilians on a boat were detained and killed by Japanese marines, who claimed they were potentially Chinese soldiers. The countryside around Anqing, Shucheng, and Tongcheng witnessed continued atrocities. In Taoxi village of Shucheng County, the Japanese burned over 1,000 houses and killed more than 40 people. At Nangang, Japanese soldiers killed more than 200 people and committed numerous rapes, including many victims over 60 years old. Tongcheng also became a site of forced sexual slavery. The Japanese atrocities, intended to terrify the Chinese into submission, did not achieve their aim. Chinese resistance persisted. After a brief withdrawal, the 20th Army held stoutly at Jinshan for four days before retreating to Xiaochiyi and Taihu. These withdrawals, while costly, lured the Japanese deeper into the interior of China. As the Japanese advanced, their flanks became increasingly vulnerable to counterattack. On June 26, 1928, the Chinese 26th Army Group attacked the flanks of the 6th Infantry Division at Taihu. The 26th Army Group was supported by the 20th and 31st Armies, which attacked from the front to pin the 6th Infantry Division in place. The 6th Infantry Division was ill-prepared to respond, suffering a malaria outbreak that left about 2,000 soldiers unfit for combat. Fighting continued until June 29, when the Japanese withdrew. The focus of operations north of the Yangtze shifted to Madang, a key river fortress protected by obstacles and river batteries. Roughly 600 mines were laid in the Yangtze near Madang, and the fortress was largely manned by the Riverine Defense Force, with a small garrison; including stragglers from the 53rd Infantry Division, the Madang garrison totaled roughly 500 men. Initial expectations had Madang holding, since Japanese ships could not easily remove obstacles or suppress the batteries. On the dawn of June 24, however, news reached Madang that Xiangkou had fallen to the Japanese, enabling a land threat to Madang, and many Madang defenders, including most officers above the platoon level, were absent at a nearby ceremony when the attack began.  On 24 June, Japanese forces conducted a surprise landing at Madang, while the main body of the Japanese Eleventh Army advanced along the southern shore of the Yangtze. The Chinese garrison at the Madang river fortress repelled four assaults, yet suffered casualties from intense bombardment by Japanese ships on the Yangtze and from poison gas attacks. Compounding the difficulty, most of the Chinese officers responsible for Madang's defense were absent due to a ceremony at a local military school by Li Yunheng, the overseeing general. Consequently, only three battalions from the second and third Marine Corps and the 313th regiment of the 53rd Division took part in the defense, totaling no more than five battalions. When the 167th Division, stationed in Pengze, was ordered by War Zone commander Bai Chongxi to move swiftly along the highway to reinforce the defenders, divisional commander Xue Weiying instead sought instructions from his direct superior, Li Yunheng, who instructed him to take a longer, more navigationally challenging route to avoid Japanese bombers. Reinforcements arrived too late, and Madang fell after a three-day battle. Chiang Kai-shek promptly ordered a counterattack, offering a 50,000 yuan reward for the units that recaptured the fortress. On June 28, the 60th Division of the 18th Corps and the 105th Division of the 49th Corps retook Xiangshan and received 20,000 yuan, but made no further progress. As the Japanese army pressed the attack on Pengze, Chinese units shifted to a defensive posture. Chiang Kai-shek subsequently had Li Yunheng court-martialed and Xue Weiying executed. After the fall of Madang, the broader Wuhan campaign benefited from Madang as a foothold along the Yangtze, as the river continued to function as a dual-use corridor for transport and amphibious landings, aiding later operations and complicating Chinese defensive planning. The rapid capture of Madang demonstrated the effectiveness of combined arms, amphibious insertion, and secure supply routes along a major river, while Chinese defenses showed weaknesses such as reliance on rough terrain, underestimation of Japanese amphibious capabilities, and delayed reinforcement, which, coupled with gas warfare, produced a swift loss. The fall influenced subsequent Chinese fortifications and defensive doctrine along the Yangtze and affected decisions regarding garrison allocations and riverine operations. After Madang fell, Japan's 11th Army pressed toward its next major objectives, Jiujiang, Huangmei, and Xiaochikou. It took nearly three weeks for the Japanese to clear the waterway around Madang of mines, costing them five minesweepers, two warships, and a landing craft full of marines. Jiujiang stood out as the most important due to its status as a key river port and railway junction. To defend these targets, China deployed the 1st Army Corps to Jiujiang, the 2nd Army Corps to cover the area west of Jiujiang, and the 4th Army Corps to defend Xiaochikou. Despite these reinforcements, the Japanese continued their advance.  The Japanese initially captured Pengze but met strong resistance at Hukou, where they again deployed poison gas during a five-day battle. During the breakout, there were insufficient boats to evacuate the auxiliary troops of the defending 26th Division from Hukou, leaving only a little over 1,800 of the more than 3,100 non-combat soldiers able to be evacuated, and the majority of the more than 1,300 missing soldiers drowned while attempting to cross the Poyang Lake. On July 23, they conducted an amphibious operation at Gutang, with the Hata Detachment landing at Jiujiang shortly thereafter. These landings south of the Yangtze represented another step toward Wuhan, which lay about 240 kilometers away. The Chinese responses consisted of relentless counterattacks, but they failed to dislodge the Japanese from their bridgeheads. Consequently, the Japanese captured Xiaochikou by July 26 and Jiujiang by July 28, with a note that poison gas may have been used at Jiujiang. North of the Yangtze, the 6th Infantry Division moved forward and seized Huangmei on August 2. Despite stubborn Chinese resistance, the Japanese had gained considerable momentum toward Wuhan. Soon after the fall of Jiujiang and surrounding areas, the local population endured a renewed surge of war crimes. The Imperial Japanese Army sought to break China's will to resist and its capacity to endure the onslaught. Male civilians were executed indiscriminately, along with any POWs unable to retreat in time, while women and children were subjected to mass rape. In addition, numerous urban districts and suburban villages were deliberately razed, including the city's ceramics factories and its maritime transportation system. The widely documented “three alls” policy proved devastating in the Yangtze region: in Jiujiang alone, as many as 98,461 people were killed, 13,213 houses destroyed, and property losses reached 28.1 billion yuan. Yet numbers fail to convey the brutality unleashed in Jiujiang, Hukou, and Xiaochikou south of the Yangtze. On July 20, the Japanese confined 100 villagers in a large house in Zhouxi village, Hukou County, and erased them with machine guns and bayonets. Tangshan village witnessed similar brutality on July 31, when eight people were drowned in a pond and 26 houses burned. That September, learning that children and the elderly at Saiyang Township were taking refuge in caves on Mount Lushan, the Japanese proceeded to bayonet defenseless civilians, many beheaded, disemboweled, or amputated. These acts, among others, were carried out on a mass scale south of the Yangtze, resulting in tens of thousands of deaths around Jiujiang. Despite the enormity of these crimes, Chinese people did not surrender. Among those who resisted was Wang Guozhen of Wang Village in Pengze County. Upon learning of the Japanese approach to Pengze on July 1, Wang, a teacher, led women, children, and the elderly into mountains and forests to seek safety. However, Wang and his followers soon encountered Japanese troops who attacked them, instantly killing over 20 people. Wang denounced their actions as the Japanese took him captive and had him whipped for over an hour. They had hit him so hard his skin was peeling off and he had broken his left thigh. They then demanded he collaborate with them, but to this Wang responded “a common man cannot resist the enemy for his country and he will only die”. After hearing these words, the Japanese simply stabbed him with a bayonet in his left eye and in his chest area, ultimately killing him. Wang's small act of defiance would earn him a plaque from the KMT that states “Eternal Heroism”. Even though Wang's heroism was commendable, bravery alone could not halt the Japanese advance along the Yangtze. After securing Jiujiang, Xiaochikou, and Gutang, the 106th and 101st Infantry Divisions carried out amphibious operations further upriver. The 106th Infantry Division landed on the Yangtze's east bank, pushing south of Jili Hu. Concurrently, the Sato Detachment, two infantry battalions plus a field artillery battalion from the 101st Infantry Division, landed east of Xiaochikou and concentrated on the east side of Mount Lu. The Japanese advance soon faced firm Chinese resistance despite these early gains. The 106th Infantry Division encountered the in-depth defenses of Xue Yue's 1st Corps. These defenses formed an isosceles triangle with Jiujiang at the apex and the Jinguanqiao line at the base. Although Jiujiang was abandoned in late July, the triangle's base at Jinguanqiao remained strong, with the 8th, 74th, 18th, 32nd, 64th, 66th, 29th, 26th, 4th, and 70th Armies concentrated in the Jinguanqiao area. These forces inflicted heavy losses on the 106th Infantry Division, which saw nearly half of its captains killed or wounded during the fighting. To aid the 106th Division's breakthrough near Jinguanqiao, the 11th Army deployed the 101st Infantry Division to the area east of Xiaochikou in mid-August. From there, the division pushed toward the east side of Mount Lu, aiming to seize Xingzi in an amphibious assault via Lake Poyang. The objective was to outflank De'an and the nearby Nanxun Road. On August 19, the 101st Infantry Division executed the plan and landed at Xingzi, where they faced strong resistance from the 53rd Infantry Division. However, the division found itself isolated and thus vulnerable to being outflanked. By August 23, the 53rd Infantry Division had withdrawn to the east. 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. In 1938 Wuhan stood as China's fragile beacon. Wuhan's defense hinged on a patchwork of war zones and weary commanders, while Japan poured in hundreds of thousands of troops, ships, and air power. The Yangtze became a deadly artery, with river fortresses, brutal bombings, and mass casualties. Yet courage endured: individuals like Wang Guozhen chose defiance over surrender.

In the spring of 1945, the Battle of Okinawa became the bloodiest fight of the Pacific War. What was meant to be the final step toward Japan turned into a storm of mud, coral, and fire that tested every limit of courage and endurance. This episode follows the Marines through the final weeks of the campaign. It is a story of bravery and exhaustion, of shattered armies and civilians trapped between them, of generals who chose death over surrender, and of the staggering cost of victory. When the guns finally fell silent, more than two hundred thousand people were dead. The island lay in ruins, but amid that devastation came moments of humanity. ************* Visit HistoryoftheMarineCorps.com to subscribe to our newsletter, explore episode notes and images, and see our references. Follow us on social media for updates and bonus content: Facebook and Twitter (@marinehistory) and Instagram (@historyofthemarines). Visit AudibleTrial.com/marinehistory for a free audiobook and a 30-day trial.

On August 23, 2025, the MacArthur Memorial hosted Finale in the Pacific, a half day exploration of the end of the Pacific War. The event was a partnership between the MacArthur Memorial, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, and the Military Aviation Museum. One of the presenters, Dr. Timothy Orr discussed some of the final air engagements of the war.Have a comment about this episode? Send us a text message! (Note: we can only read the texts, we can't reply) Follow us on:Twitter: @MacArthur1880; @AEWilliamsClarkFacebook: @MacArthurMemorialwww.macarthurmemorial.org

Hey before I begin the podcast, I just want to thank all of you who joined the patreon, you guys are simply awesome. Please take the time to vote and comment on the patreon polls so I can best tackle the specific subjects you want to hear more about and hell it does not have to be about the Pacific War, I like ancient Rome, WW1, WW2, just toss some ideas and I will try to make it happen.   This Podcast is going to be a very remarkable story about a Korean man who fought for the IJA, the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany during the second world war.  He is also a man whom most than likely never existed.   Did that catch you off guard haha?   If you have a chance you can pull up wikipedia and search Yang Kyoungjong. The first thing you will notice is a disclaimer that states numerous historians who claim Yang Kyoungjong does not exist. Yet this man exists in some history books, there is a iconic photo of him, there is a documentary looking into him, countless Korean stories are writing loosely about him, there is a pretty decent war film and multiple youtubers have covered his so-called story. So how does this guy not exist if his story is so popular?   His story is claimed to be real by military historian Stephen Ambrose who wrote about him in his book in 1994 titled “D-day, june 6th, 1944: the Climactic battle of World War II. There is also references to him in Antony Beevor's book “the second world war” and that of defense consultant and author Steven Zaloga's book“the devil's garden: Rommel's desperate Defense of Omaha Beach on D-Day”. In 2005 a Korean SBS documentary investigated his existence and concluded there was no convincing evidence of his existence. For those of you who have ever heard of this man, I guarantee it's because of the 2011 south korean film “My Way”. That's where I found out about it by the way. Many of you probably saw the iconic photo of him, again if you pull up the wikipedia page on Yang Kyoungjong its front and center. The photo shows a asiatic man wearing a wehrmacht uniform and he has just been captured by american forces on the d-day landings.   Now I don't want to jump into the is he real or not busy just yet. So this is how the podcast will go down, very reminiscent of “Our fake History's Podcast” might I add, I am a huge fan of that guys work. I am going to tell you the story of Yang Kyoungjong, then afterwords disclose my little investigation into whether he is real or not.   So without further adieu this is the story of a man who fought for three nations during WW2.   The Story   It was June 1944, the allies had just unleashed Operation Overlord, the D-Day landings at Normandy. Lt Robert Brewer of the 506th parachute infantry regiment, 101st airborne division was overlooking the capture of Axis forces and reported to his regiment finding four Asians in Wehrmacht uniform around the Utah beach landings. Brewer nor any of his colleagues spoke the language the Asian men spoke, they assumed them to be Japanese.  The four asians were processed as POW's, listed as young Japanese and sent to a British POW camp, before he would be sent to another POW camp in the US. At some point between his capture and the POW camps, he gave his name as Yang Kyoungjong, stated he was Korean and gave an extremely incredible story. To who did he say these things, no one knows.   Yang Kyoungjong was born in 1920, in Shin Eu Joo, part of modern day North Korea. At the age of 18, Yang was forcibly conscripted into the Imperial Japanese army. Korea was one of the bread baskets of Asia and the Empire of Japan had annexed her in 1910. Japan held sovereignty over Korea, making Koreans subjects.    In 1939 the Empire of Japan faced major labor shortages and as a result began conscription of Japanese men for the military, while importing vast amounts of Korean laborers to work in mainland Japan. For the Imperial Japanese Army, Koreans were not drafted until 1944 when things were dire for Japan. Until 1944, the IJA allowed Koreans to volunteer in the army. In 1938 there was a 14% acceptance rate, by 1943 this dropped dramatically to 2%, but the number of applicants increased exponentially from 3000 per annum in 1939 to 300,000 by the end of the war. On paper it looked like Koreans were registering en masse on their on violation, but this is quite the contrary, the Japanese policy was to use force. Japanese officials began press gang efforts against Korean peasants, forcing them to sign applications, it is believed over half of the applications were done in such a manner. Other applicants registered for a variety of reasons, typically because of economic turmoil. Korea would produce 7 generals and many field grade officers. One of the most well known was Lt General Crown Prince Yi Un who would command Japanese forces in the China War.   Thus Yang Kyoungjong was forced into the IJA and would find himself stationed with the Kwantung Army. Quite unfortunately for him, he was enlisted into their service at a time where two major border skirmishes occurred with the Soviet Union. The USSR was seen as Japan's number one rival going all the way back to the Triple Intervention of 1895 when the Russians thwarted Japan's seizure of the Liaodong peninsula after they had won the first sino japanese war. This led to the Russo-Japanese war, where Japan shocked the world being victorious over the Russian Empire. When the Russian Empire fell and the Russian civil war kicked off, Japan sent the lionshare of men to fight the Red Army during the Siberian Intervention of 1918-1922.    Communism was seen as the greatest if not one of the greatest threats to the Kokutai and thus Japan as a whole. As such Japan placed the Kwantung Army along the Manchurian borderlands to thwart any possible soviet invasion. There had numerous border skirmishes, but in 1938 and 1939 two large battles occurred. In 1938 the Kwantung army intercepted a Soviet message indicating the Far East forces would be securing some unoccupied heights west of Lake Khasan that overlooked the Korean port city of Rajin. Soviet border troops did indeed move into the area and began fortifying it. The Kwantung army sent forces to dislodge them and this soon led to a full on battle. The battle was quite shocking for both sides, the Soviets lost nearly 800 men dead with 3279 wounded, the Japanese claimed they had 526 dead with 913 wounded. The Soviet lost significant armor and despite both sides agreeing to a ceasefire, the Kwantung army considered it a significant victory and proof the Soviets were not capable of thwarting them.   In theory Yang Kyoungjong would be in training and would eventually reach the Manchuria borders by 1939. Another man sent over would be Georgy Zhukov who was given the task of taking command of the 57th special corps and to eliminate Japanese provocations. What was expected of Zhukov was if the Japanese pressed again for battle, to deliver them a crushing and decisive blow. On May 11th, 1939 some Mongolian cavalry units were grazing their horses in a disputed area. On that very same day, Manchu cavalry attacked the Mongols to drive them past the river of Khalkhin Gol. Two days later the Mongols returned in greater numbers and this time the Manchu were unable to dislodge them.    What was rather funny to say, a conflict of some horses grazing on disputed land, led to a fully mechanized battle. On May 14th, Lt Colonel Yaozo Azuma led some regiments to dislodge the Mongols, but they were being supported by the Red Army. Azuma force suffered 63% casualties, devastating. June saw the battle expand enormously, Japan was tossing 30,000 men in the region, the Soviets tossed Zhukov at them alongside motorized and armored forces. The IJA lacking good armored units, tossed air forces to smash the nearby Soviet airbase at Tamsakbulak. In July the IJA engaged the Red Army with nearly 100 tanks and tankettes, too which Zhukov unleashed 450 tanks and armored cars. The Japanese had more infantry support, but the Soviet armor encircled and crushed them. The two armies spared with another for weeks, the Japanese assumed the Soviets would suffer logistical problems but Zhukoev assembled a fleet of 2600 trucks to supply his forces, simply incredible. Both sides were suffering tremendous casualties, then in August global politics shifted. It was apparent a war in Europe was going to break out, Zhukov was ordered to be decisive, the Soviets could not deal with a two front war. So Zhukov now using a fleet of 4000 trucks began transported supplies from Chita to the front next to a armada of tanks and mechanized brigades. The Soviets tossed 3 rifle divisions, two tank divisions and 2 tank brigades, nearly 500 tanks in all, with two motorized infantry divisions and 550 fighters and bombers.    The stalemate was shattered when Zhukov unleashed is armada, some 50,000 Soviets and Mongols hit the east bank of Khalkhin Gol. The Japanese were immediately pinned down, while the Soviets were employing a double envelopment. The Japanese tried to counter attack and it failed horribly. The Japanese then scrambled to break out of the encirclement and failed. The surrounded Japanese forces refused to surrender as the Soviets smashed them with artillery and aerial bombardment. By the end of August the Japanese forces on the Mongolian side of the border were annihilated. On September 15th the USSR and Japan signed a ceasefire.    The battle of Khalkhin Gol was devastating for both sides. The Japanese claim they had 8440 deaths, 8766 wounded, lost 162 aircraft and 42 tanks. Its estimated 500-600 Japanese forces were taken prisoner. Because of IJA doctrine these men were considered killed in action. Some sources will claim the real numbers for Japanese casualties could have been as high as 30,000. The Soviets claim 9703 deaths, 15,251 wounded, the destruction of 253 tanks, 250 aircraft, 96 artillery pieces and 133 armored cars. Of those tank losses, its estimated 75-80% were destroyed by anti-tank guns, 15-20% field artillery, 5-10% infantry thrown incendiary bombs, 3% mines and another 3% for aircraft bombing.   Back to Yang Kyoungjong, he alongside the other Japanese, Manchu and Korean POW's were sent to Gulags in Siberia. As the war on the Eastern Front kicked off between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, facing annihilation the Soviets did anything possible to survive. One of these actions was to create the Shtrafbats, “Penal battalions”. Stalins order No 227 created the first penal battalions, who were supposed to be around 800 men strong. The first Shtrafbat battalion was deployed to the Stalingrad Front on August 22nd of 1942.   On order was issued on November 26, 1942 “status of Penal units of the army”, it was issued by Georgy Zhukov, now deputy commander in chief who was the man who formally standardized soviet penal units. The Shtrafbats were around 360 men per battalion commanded by mid range Red Army officers and politruks. The men forced into these were permanents or temporaries. Permanents were officers, commanders, the higher ranks guys. Temporary known as shtrafniki “punishees” were the grunts, typically prisoners and those convicted of crimes. From september 1942 to May of 1945 422,700 men would be forced into penal battalions.    Typically those forced into penal military units were one of two things: 1) those convicted of dissertation or cowardice, 2) Soviet Gulag labor camp inmates. It seems Yang Kyoungjong found himself in a very awkward situation as he would be forced into one of these penal battalions and sent to fight on the eastern front. As pertaining to Order No. 227, each Army was to have 3–5 barrier squads of up to 200 persons each, these units would be made up of penal units.    So back toYang Kyoungjong, he would find himself deployed at the third battle of Kharkov. This battle was part of a series of battles fought on the eastern front. As the German 6th army was encircling Stalingrad, the Soviets launched a series of wide counter attacks, as pertaining to “operation star”. Operation star saw massive offensives against Kharkov, Belgorod, Kursk, Voroshilovgrad and Izium. The Soviets earned great victories, but they also overextended themselves. Field Marshal Erich von Manstein seeing the opening, performed a counter-strike against Kharkov on February 19th of 1943, using fresh troops of the 2nd SS Panzer Corps alongside two other panzer armies. Manstein also had massive air support from field Marshal Wolfram von Richthofens Luftflotte 4, 1214 aircraft tossed 1000 sorties per day from February 20th to march 15th. The Red army had approximately 210,000 troops who fought in the Voronezh-Kharkov offensive, the Germans would have roughly 160,000 men, but their tanks outnumbered the Soviets 7-1, they had roughly 350 of them.   The Germans quickly outflanked the Soviets, managing to encircle and annihilate many units. Whenever soviets units made attempts to escape encirclements, the German air forces placed pressure upon them. The German air forces had the dual job of airlifting supplies to the front lines giving the Soviets no breathing space. Gradually the fight focused around the city of Kharkov seeing the Soviets dislodged. The Germans caused severe casualties, perhaps 45,000 dead or missing with another 41,000 wounded. The Germans suffered 4500 deaths, 7000 wounded. The Germans took a large number of prisoners, and Yang Kyoungjong was one of them.   Yet again a prisoner Yang Kyoungjong was coerced into serving another nation, this time for Die Ost-Bataillone. The Eastern Front had absolutely crippled Germany and as a result Germany began to enlist units from just about any nation possible and this included former Soviet citizens. There were countless different units, like the Russian liberation Army, die Hilfswillige, Ukrainian collaborationists, and there were also non-Russians from the USSR who formed the Ost-Bataillone. These eastern battalions would comprise a rough total of 175,000 men. Many of the Ost-Bataillone were conscripted or coerced into serving, though plenty also volunteered. Countless were recruited from POW camps, choosing to serve instead of labor in camps. The Osttruppen were to typically deployed for coastal defense, rear area activities, security stuff, all the less important roles to free up the German units to perform front line service.   There were two different groups, the Ost-Legionen “eastern legions” and Ost-Bataillone “eastern battalions”. The Ostlegionen were large foreign legion type units raised amongst members of specific ethnic or racial groups. The Ost-Bataillone were composed of numerous nationalities, usually plucked from POW camps in eastern europe. They were tossed together into battalion sized units and integrated individually into German combat formations. Obviously the Germans did not get their hands on large numbers of Koreans, so Yang Kyoungjong found himself in a Ost-Bataillone.    In 1944, due to massive losses in the Eastern Front, and in preparation for the allies about to open a second front, the Germans began deploying a lot of Ost-Bataillone along the coastal defense line at Cherbourg. Yang Kyoungjong was enlisted in the 709th static infantry division, a coastal defense unit assigned to defend the eastern and northern coasts of the Cotentin Peninsula. This would include the Utah beach landing site and numerous US airborne landing zones. The sector was roughly 250 km running northeast of Carentan, via Barfleur-Cherbourg-Cap de la Hague to the western point of Barneville. This also included the 65 km of land just in font of Cherbourg harbor. A significant portion of the 709th were Ost-bataillon, countless were from eastern europe, many were former Soviet POW'S. There were also two battalions of the 739th Grenadier regiment whom were Georgian battalions. A significant amount of the 709th had no combat experience, but had trained extensively in the area.   The 709th would be heavily engaged on D-day meeting US airborne units and the 4th infantry division who landed at Utah beach. In the early hours of June 6th, the US 82nd and 101st airborne divisions landed at the base of the Cotentin peninsula and managed to secure a general area for the US 4th infantry division to land at Utah beach, with very few casualties compared to other beach landings. After the landings the forces tried to link up with other forces further east. By June 9th they had crossed the Douve river valley and captured Carentan. House to house fighting was seen in the battle for Carentan, the Germans tossed a few counterattacks, but the Americans held on with the help of armor units of the 13th.    The Americans then advanced to cut off the Cotentin Peninsula, now supported by 3 other infantry divisions. The Germans had few armored or mobilized infantry in the area. By June 16th the German command was tossed into chaos as Erwin Rommel wanted them to pull out and man the Atlantic Wall at Cherbourg, but Hitler demanded they hold their present lines of defense. By the 17th Hitler agreed to the withdrawal, under some provisions the men still took up limited defenses spanning the entire peninsula. On the 18th the US 9th infantry division reached the west coast of the peninsula thus isolating the Cherbourg garrison. A battle was unleashed for 24 hours with the 4th, 9th and 79th US infantry divisions driving north on a broad front. They faced little opposition on the western side and the eastern, the center held much stronger resistance. The Americans would find several caches of V-1 flying bombs and V-2 rocket installations at Brix. After two days the Americans were in striking distance of Cherbourg. The garrison commander Lt General Karl-Wilhelm von Schlieben had 21,000 men, but many were naval personnel and labor units. Schliebens 709th had performed a fighting withdrawal to Cherbourg and were completely exhausted. The trapped forces were low in provisions, fuel and ammunition. The luftwaffe tried dropping supplies on their positions but it was inadequate.    A general assault began on the 22nd and the German forces put up stiff resistance within their concrete pillboxes. Allied warships bombarded the city on the 25th of june and on the 26th a British elite force, No. 30 Commando launched an assault against Octeville, a suburb of southwestern Cherbourg. The commandos quickly captured 20 officers and 500 men of the Kriegmarine naval intelligence HQ at Villa Meurice. As the Germans were ground down, Schlieben was captured and with that a surrender was made on the 29th.   The Americans suffered nearly 3000 deaths with 13,500 wounded during the operation. The Germans suffered 8000 deaths with 30,000 captured. For the 709th who took a lionshare of the fighting they reported sustaining 4000 casualties.    Amongst the captured was Yang Kyoungjong. As I said in the beginning Lt Robert Brewer of the 506th parachute infantry regiment, 101st airborne division was overlooking the capture of Axis forces and reported to his regiment finding four Asians in Wehrmacht uniform around the Utah beach landings. Brewer nor any of his colleagues spoke the language the Asian men spoke, they assumed them to be Japanese.  The four asians were processed as POW's, listed as young Japanese and sent to a British POW camp, before he would be sent to another POW camp in the US. At some point between his capture and the POW camps, he gave his name as Yang Kyoungjong, stated he was Korean and gave the story. Apparently Yang Kyoungjob was granted US citizenship and would spend the rest of his life in Illinois until his death in 1992.   So that is the story of Yang Kyoungjong.    The truth Did Yang Kyoungjong exist? Where does his story originate? For those of you who have not guessed it yet, the story I told you was full of details, I simply added based on historical events, with zero evidence at all any man named Yang Kyoungjong was involved in them. I did this specifically to highlight, thats exactly what others have done over the course of many years, creating a sort of mythos. If you know the game broken telephone, thats what I would theorize makes up most of this mans story. But lets go through some actual evidence why don't we?   From the digging I have done, the story seemed to originate with historian Stephen Ambrose book in 1994 titled “D-day, june 6th, 1944: the Climactic battle of World War II”. While writing this book, Ambrose interviewed Robert Burnham Brewer, who served E Company, 2nd battalion, 506th parachute infantry regiment of the 101st airborne division. This same man was portrayed in Band of Brothers by the way. Brewer gave one rather ambiguous account where he spoke about capturing 4 asian men in Wehrmacht uniforms.    Here is patient zero as told to us by Ambrose's book (Page 34, no footnote on the page)   The so-called Ost battalions became increasingly unreliable after the German defeat at Kursk; they were, therefore, sent to france in exchange for German troops. At the beach called Utah on the day on the invasion, Lt Robert Brewer of the 506th Parachute infantry regiment, 101st airborne division, US Army, captured four asians in Wehrmacht uniforms. No one could speak their language; eventually it was learned that they were Koreans. How on earth did Koreans end up fighting for Hitler to defend france against Americans? It seems they had been conscripted into the Japanese army in 1938-Korea was then a Japanese colony-captured by the Red Army in the border battles with Japan in 1939, forced into the Red Army, captured by the Wehrmacht in December 1941 outside Moscow, forced into the German army, and sent to France”. What happened to them, Lt Brewer never found out, but presumably they were sent back to Korea. If so, they would almost certainly have been conscripted again, either into the south or north korean army. It is possible than in 1950 they ended up fighting once again, either against the US army or with it, depending on what part of Korea they came from. Such are the vagaries of politics in the 20th century. By June 1944, one in six German rifleman in France was from an Ost battalion.   Now digging further since there are no footnotes, it seems Ambrose took an oral account from Lt Brewer, but did not directly quote him and instead abstractly expanded upon his story. Ambrose was guilty of doing this often. As multiple historians have pointed out, Brewer was living in the 1940s and was by no means an ethnographer, he was not a person who could have accurately known the nationality of the four asian men he captured. It is plausible he or other US units around him, just came up with Korean for the four asians who could have been from nearly anywhere in central to east asia. For all we know the men found could have been from Turkestan. What was “asian” to westerners of the 1940's is extremely broad.    If you look up the Ost-Bataillone or Ostlegionen you will see they consisted of captured former soviet soldiers. During the d-day landings, 1/6th of the German forces defending the atlantic coast were made up of the Ost-battailones. They came from numerous places, Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Georgia, Ukraine, Azerbaijan, India, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Turkestan, Mongolia and numerous parts of the USSR. Needless to say, there were a ton of people whom would be considered asian and could be mistaken to be from Korea, Japan, Burma, etc.    It seems Brewer's vague account was transformed by Amrose, but this only covers one part of all of this, the story, what about the photo?    The iconic photograph is another matter entirely. The photograph has nothing to do with Brewer's account, it is simply a random photograph taken at Utah beach of a captured asian soldier wearing a Wehrmacht uniform. The official description of the photo states “Capture Jap in Nazi uniform. France, fearful of his future, this young Jap wearing a nazi uniform, is checked off in a roundup of German prisoners on the beaches of france. An american army captain takes the Jap's name and serial number” Author Martin Morgan believes the man in the photograph is not Yang Kyoungjong, but instead an ethnic Georgian from the 795th Georgian Battalion, which was composed of Georgian Osttruppen troops or someone who was Turkistani. In 2002 word of the story became more popularized online and in 2004 the iconic photo also began to circulate heavily on the internet. The Korean media became aware of the story in 2002 and when they saw the picture the Korean news site DKBNews investigated the matter. Apparently a reader of the DKBNews submitted biographical details about the soldier in the photo, including his name, date of birth, the general story we now know, his release, life in Illinois and death. The DKBNews journalist requested sources and none were provided, typical.   So some random unknown reader of the DKBNews gave a name, place and time of birth and even where he ended up and died.  In 2005 the Seoul broadcasting system aired a documentary specifically investigating the existence of the asian soldiers who fought for Germany on d-day.   In the SBS special “The Korean in Normandy,” produced and broadcast in 2005 based on rumors of Yang kyoungjog,  they searched for records of Korean prisoners of war during the Battle of khalkhin gol and records of Korean people who participated in the German-Japanese War, and records related to the German Army's eastern unit, but could not find traces of such a person. In addition, the soldiers who served in the Soviet army, who were captured, and then transferred to the German army's eastern units were considered by the Soviet Union to be serious traitors. Accordingly, under a secret agreement between the United States, Great Britain, and the Soviet Union, they were forcibly repatriated to the Soviet Union after the war and held in Gulags.. The SBS production team stated that the rumors that a 'Korean from Normandy' had gone to the United States and that he died in seclusion near Northwestern University under the name of 'Yang Kyoungjong', which they were unaware of, were false. The investigative team looked for any traces of a Yang Kyoungjong and found none, so they concluded although there were accounts of asian soldiers in the German army during WW2, there was zero evidence of the existence of Yang Kyoungjong or any Koreans fighting on D-day for that matter.    The 2005 SBS Special documentary sprang forth a bunch of stories by Korean authors, expanding the mythos of Yang Kyoungjong.   In 2007 author Jo Jeong-rae published a novel titled “human mask” which told the story of SHin Gilman, The story ends with Shin Gil-man, who was conscripted into the Japanese army at the age of 20, as a prisoner of war in Normandy, then transported back to the Soviet Union and eventually executed by firing squad. Another novel called “D-day” by author Kim Byeong-in was release in 2011, just prior to the film My War, the plot is extremely similar to the movie. The main characters are Han Dae-sik and Yoichi, who met as children as the sons of a Japanese landowner and the house's housekeeper, harboring animosity toward each other, and grew up to become marathon runners representing Joseon and Japan. As they experience the war together, they feel a strange sense of kinship and develop reconciliation and friendship.   And of course the most famous story would find its way to the big screen. In 2011 the film My Way came out, back then the most expensive south korean film ever made at around 23$ million.   Then in 2012 a unknown person created a wikipedia page piecing together the Ambrose story, the photo and the unknown DBK readers information. With all of this information becoming more viral suddenly in 2013, two history books hit the scene and would you know it, both have “Yang Kyoungjong” in them.    These are Antony Beevor's book “the second world war” and that of defense consultant and author Steven Zaloga in his book “the devil's garden: Rommel's desperate Defense of Omaha Beach on D-Day”. Both authors took the story, name and iconic photo and expanded on the mythos by adding further details as to how the Korean man would have gone from Korea to Cherbourg france.   So Ambrose's story spreads across the internet alongside this photo. Both spark interest in Korea and an investigation receives some random guys testimony, which quite honestly was groundless. Despite the korean documentary stating there was no evidence of a Yang Kyoungjong, it sparks further interest, more stories and a famous film in 2011. 2012 sees a wikipage, it becomes more viral and now seeps into other historians work.   And I would be remiss not to mention the bizarre controversy that broke out in my nation of Canada. A nation so full of controversies today, dear god. Debbie Hanlon a city councilor in St John Newfoundland was absolutely wrecked online in 2018 for an advertisement promoting her real estate business stating “Korean Yang kyoungjong fought with Japan against the USSR. He then fought with the USSR against Germany. Then with Germany against the US! Want an agent who fights for you, call me!” Really weird ad by the way. So it seems her ad was to point out how far she was willing to go for her real estate clients. It was considered extremely offensive, and not the first time she pulled this off, her husband Oral Mews had recently come under fire for another ad he made using a photo of the Puerto Rican cab driver Victor Perez Cardona, where the vehicle turned into a casket. That ad said “He can't give you a lift because he's dead. He's propped up in his cab at his wake! Need a lift to great service, call me!” Hanlon was surprised at the amount of backlash she received since the ads had been running for over 4 years online. She claimed to be the victim of cyberbullying and trolls. So yeah, that happened.    Did Yang Kyoungjong exist, more than likely not, was it possible some Koreans found themselves in a position his story pertains to, you know what it's quite possible. During War a lot of weird things happen. I hope you liked this episode, please let me know in the comments on the Patreon what you think, how I can improve things and of course what you want to hear about next!

Last time we spoke about the Battle of Taierzhuang. Following the fall of Nanjing in December 1937, the Second Sino-Japanese War entered a brutal phase of attrition as Japan sought to consolidate control and press toward central China. Chinese defense prioritized key rail corridors and urban strongholds, with Xuzhou, the JinPu and Longhai lines, and the Huai River system forming crucial lifelines. By early 1938, Japanese offensives aimed to link with forces around Beijing and Nanjing and encircle Chinese positions in the Central Yangtze region, threatening Wuhan. In response, Chiang Kai-shek fortified Xuzhou and expanded defenses to deter a pincer move, eventually amassing roughly 300,000 troops along strategic lines. Taierzhuang became a focal point when Japanese divisions attempted to press south and link with northern elements. Chinese commanders Li Zongren, Bai Chongxi, Tang Enbo, and Sun Lianzhong coordinated to complicate Japanese plans through offensive-defensive actions, counterattacks, and encirclement efforts. The victory, though numerically costly, thwarted immediate Japanese objectives and foreshadowed further attritional struggles ahead.   #171 The Flooding of the Yellow River 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. We last left off with a significant event during the Xuzhou campaign. Three Japanese divisions under General Itagaki Seishiro moved south to attack Taierzhuang and were met by forces commanded by Li Zongren, Sun Lianzhong, and Tang Enbo, whose units possessed a decent amount of artillery. In a two-week engagement from March 22 to April 7, the battle devolved into a costly urban warfare. Fighting was vicious, often conducted in close quarters and at night. The urban environment negated Japanese advantages in armor and artillery, allowing Chinese forces to contend on equal terms. The Chinese also disrupted Japanese logistics by resupplying their own troops and severing rear supply lines, draining Japanese ammunition, supplies, and reinforcements. By April 7, the Japanese were compelled to retreat, marking the first Chinese victory of the war. However both sides suffered heavy losses, with around 20,000 casualties on each side. In the aftermath of this rare victory, Chiang Kai-Shek pushed Tang Enbo and Li Zongren to capitalize on their success and increased deployments in the Taierzhuang theater to about 450,000 troops. Yet the Chinese Army remained hampered by fundamental problems. The parochialism that had crippled Chiang's forces over the preceding months resurfaced. Although the generals had agreed to coordinate in a war of resistance, each still prioritized the safety of his own troops, wary of Chiang's bid to consolidate power. Li Zongren, for example, did not deploy his top Guangxi provincial troops at Taierzhuang and sought to shift most of the fighting onto Tang Enbo's forces. Chiang's colleagues were mindful of the fates of Han Fuju of Shandong and Zhang Xueliang of Manchuria: Han was executed for refusing to fight, while Zhang, after allowing Chiang to reduce the size of his northeastern army, ended up under house arrest. They were right to distrust Chiang. He believed, after all, that provincial armies should come under a unified national command, which he would lead. From a national-unity perspective, his aspiration was not unreasonable. But it fed suspicion among other military leaders that participation in the anti-Japanese war would dilute their power. The divided nature of the command also hindered logistics, making ammunition and food supplies to the front unreliable and easy to cut off. By late April the Chinese had reinforced the Xuzhou area to between 450,000-600,000 to capitalize on their victory. However these armies were plagued with command and control issues. Likewise the Japanese licked their wounds and reinforced the area to roughly 400,000, with fresh troops and supplies flowing in from Tianjin and Nanjing. The Japanese continued with their objective of encircling Chinese forces. The North China Area Army comprised four divisions and two infantry brigades drawn from the Kwantung Army, while the Central China Expeditionary Army consisted of three divisions and the 1st and 2nd Tank Battalions along with motorized support units. The 5th Tank Battalion supported the 3rd Infantry Division as it advanced north along the railway toward Xuzhou. Fighting to the west, east, and north of Xuzhou was intense, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides. On 18 April, the Japanese advanced southward toward Pizhou. Tang Enbo's 20th Army Corps, together with the 2nd, 22nd, 46th, and 59th corps, resisted fiercely, culminating in a stalemate by the end of April. The 60th Corps of the Yunnan Army engaged the Japanese 10th Division at Yuwang Mountain for nearly a month, repelling multiple assaults. By the time it ceded its position to the Guizhou 140th Division and withdrew on 15 May, the corps had sustained losses exceeding half of its forces. Simultaneously, the Japanese conducted offensives along both banks of the Huai River, where Chinese defenders held out for several weeks. Nevertheless, Japanese artillery and aerial bombardment gradually tilted the balance, allowing the attackers to seize Mengcheng on 9 May and Hefei on 14 May. From there, the southern flank split into two parts: one force moved west and then north to cut off the Longhai Railway escape route from Xuzhou, while another division moved directly north along the railway toward Suxian, just outside Xuzhou. Simultaneously, to the north, Japanese units from north China massed at Jining and began moving south beyond Tengxian. Along the coast, an amphibious landing was made at Lianyungang to reinforce troops attacking from the east. The remaining portions of Taierzhuang were captured in May, a development symbolically significant to Tokyo. On 17 May, Japanese artillery further tightened the noose around Xuzhou, striking targets inside the city.  To preserve its strength, the Nationalist government ordered the abandonment of Xuzhou and directed its main forces to break out toward northern Jiangsu, northern Anhui, and eastern Henan. To deter the Japanese army's rapid westward advance and penetration into northern Henan and western Shandong, many leading military and political figures within the Nationalist government proposed breaching dams over the Yellow River to delay the offensive, a strategy that would have been highly advantageous to the Nationalist forces at the time. Chiang Kai-shek vetoed the proposal outright, insisting that the Nationalist army could still resist. He understood that with tens of millions of Chinese lives at stake and a sliver of hope remaining, the levee plan must not be undertaken. Then a significant battle broke out at Lanfeng. Chiang also recognized that defeat could allow the elite Japanese mechanized divisions, the 14th, 16th, and 10th, to advance directly toward Zhengzhou. If Zhengzhou fell, the Japanese mechanized forces on the plains could advance unimpeded toward Tongguan. Their southward push would threaten Xi'an, Xiangfan, and Nanyang, directly jeopardizing the southwest's rear defenses. Concurrently, the Japanese would advance along the Huai River north of the Dabie Mountains toward Wuhan, creating a pincer with operations along the Yangtze River.  Now what followed was arguably the most important and skillful Chinese maneuver of the Xuzhou campaign: a brilliantly executed strategic retreat to the south and west across the Jinpu railway line. On May 15, Li Zongren, in consultation with Chiang Kai-shek, decided to withdraw from Xuzhou and focus on an escape plan. The evacuation of civilians and military personnel began that day. Li ordered troops to melt into the countryside and move south and west at night, crossing the Jinpu Railway and splitting into four groups that would head west. The plan was to regroup in the rugged Dabie Mountains region to the south and prepare for the defense of Wuhan. Li's generals departed reluctantly, having held out for so long; Tang Enbo was said to have wept. Under cover of night, about forty divisions, over 200,000 men, marched out of Japanese reach in less than a week. A critical moment occurred on May 18, when fog and a sandstorm obscured the retreating troops as they crossed the Jinpu Railway. By May 21, Li wired Chiang Kai-shek to report that the withdrawal was complete. He mobilized nearly all of the Kuomintang Central Army's elite units, such as the 74th Army, withdrawn from Xuzhou and transferred directly to Lanfeng, with a resolute intent to “burn their boats.” The force engaged the Japanese in a decisive battle at Lanfeng, aiming to secure the last line of defense for the Yellow River, a position carrying the lives of millions of Chinese civilians. Yet Chiang Kai-shek's strategy was not universally understood by all participating generals, who regarded it as akin to striking a rock with an egg. For the battle of Lanfeng the Chinese mobilized nearly all of the Kuomintang Central Army's elite forces, comprising 14 divisions totaling over 150,000 men. Among these, the 46th Division of the 27th Army, formerly the Central Training Brigade and the 36th, 88th, and 87th Divisions of the 71st Army were German-equipped. Additionally, the 8th Army, the Tax Police Corps having been reorganized into the Ministry of Finance's Anti-Smuggling Corps, the 74th Army, and Hu Zongnan's 17th Corps, the new 1st Army, equipped with the 8th Division were elite Nationalist troops that had demonstrated strong performance in the battle of Shanghai and the battle of Nanjing, and were outfitted with advanced matériel. However, these so-called “elite” forces were heavily degraded during the campaigns in Shanghai and Nanjing. The 46th Division and Hu Zongnan's 17th Corps sustained casualties above 85% in Nanjing, while the 88th and 87th Divisions suffered losses of up to 90%. The 74th Army and the 36th Division also endured losses exceeding 75%. Their German-made equipment incurred substantial losses; although replenishment occurred, inventories resembled roughly a half-German and half-Chinese mix. With very limited heavy weapons and a severe shortage of anti-tank artillery, they could not effectively match the elite Japanese regiments. Hu Zongnan's 17th Corps maintained its national equipment via a close relationship with Chiang Kai-shek. In contrast, the 74th Army, after fighting in Shanghai, Nanjing, and Xuzhou, suffered heavy casualties, and the few German weapons it had were largely destroyed at Nanjing, leaving it to rely on a mix of domestically produced and Hanyang-made armaments. The new recruits added to each unit largely lacked combat experience, with nearly half of the intake having received basic training. The hardest hit was Li Hanhun's 64th Army, established less than a year prior and already unpopular within the Guangdong Army. Although classified as one of the three Type A divisions, the 155th, 156th, and 187th Divisions, it was equipped entirely with Hanyang-made firearms. Its direct artillery battalion possessed only about 20 older mortars and three Type 92 infantry guns, limiting its heavy firepower to roughly that of a Japanese battalion. The 195th Division and several miscellaneous units were even less prominent, reorganized from local militias and lacking Hanyang rifles. Additionally, three batches of artillery purchased from the Soviet Union arrived in Lanzhou via Xinjiang between March and June 1938. Except for the 52nd Artillery Regiment assigned to the 200th Division, the other artillery regiments had recently received their weapons and were still undergoing training. The 200th Division, had been fighting awhile for in the Xuzhou area and incurred heavy casualties, was still in training and could only deploy its remaining tank battalion and armored vehicle company. The tank battalion was equipped with T-26 light tanks and a small number of remaining British Vickers tanks, while the armored vehicle company consisted entirely of Italian Fiat CV33 armored cars. The disparity in numbers was substantial, and this tank unit did not participate in the battle.  As for the Japanese, the 14th Division was an elite Type A formation. Originally organized with four regiments totaling over 30,000 men, the division's strength was later augmented. Doihara's 14th Division received supplements, a full infantry regiment and three artillery regiments, to prevent it from being surrounded and annihilated, effectively transforming the unit into a mobile reinforced division. Consequently, the division's mounted strength expanded to more than 40,000 personnel, comprising five infantry regiments and four artillery regiments. The four artillery regiments, the 24th Artillery Regiment, the 3rd Independence Mountain Artillery Regiment, the 5th Field Heavy Artillery Regiment, and the 6th Field Heavy Artillery Regiment, possessed substantial heavy firepower, including 150mm heavy howitzers and 105mm long-range field cannons, placing them far in excess of the Nationalist forces at Lanfeng. In addition, both the 14th and later the 16th Divisions commanded tank regiments with nearly 200 light and medium tanks each, while Nationalist forces were markedly short of anti-tank artillery. At the same time, the Nationalist Air Force, though it had procured more than 200 aircraft of various types from the Soviet Union, remained heavily reliant on Soviet aid-to-China aircraft, amounting to over 100 machines, and could defend only a few cities such as Wuhan, Nanchang, and Chongqing. In this context, Japanese forces effectively dominated the Battle of Lanfeng. Moreover, reports indicate that the Japanese employed poison gas on the battlefield, while elite Nationalist troops possessed only a limited number of gas masks, creating a stark disparity in chemical warfare preparedness. Despite these disparities, Chiang Kai-shek and the Nationalist government were initially unaware of the updated strength and composition of the Doihara Division. Faced with constrained options, Chiang chose to press ahead with combat operations. On May 12, 1939, after crossing the Yellow River, the IJA 14th Division continued its southward advance toward Lanfeng. The division's objective was to sever the Longhai Railway, disrupt the main Nationalist retreat toward Zhengzhou, and seize Zhengzhou itself. By May 15, the division split into two columns at Caoxian and moved toward key nodes on the Longhai Line. Major General Toyotomi Fusatarou led two infantry regiments, one cavalry regiment, and one artillery regiment in the main assault toward Kaocheng with the aim of directly capturing Lanfeng. Doihara led three infantry regiments and three artillery regiments toward Neihuang and Minquan, threatening Guide. In response, the Nationalist forces concentrated along the railway from Lanfeng to Guide, uniting Song Xilian's 71st Army, Gui Yongqing's 27th Army, Yu Jishi's 74th Army, Li Hanhun's 64th Army, and Huang Jie's 8th Army. From May 15 to 17, the Fengjiu Brigade, advancing toward Lanfeng, met stubborn resistance near Kaocheng from roughly five divisions under Song Xilian and was forced to shift its effort toward Yejigang and Neihuang. The defense near Neihuang, including Shen Ke's 106th Division and Liang Kai's 195th Division, ultimately faltered, allowing Doihara's division to seize Neihuang, Yejigang, Mazhuangzhai, and Renheji. Nevertheless, the Nationalist forces managed to contain the Japanese advance east and west of the area, preventing a complete encirclement. Chiang Kai-shek ordered Cheng Qian, commander-in-chief of the 1st War Zone, to encircle and annihilate the Japanese 14th Division. The deployment plan mapped three routes: the Eastern Route Army, under Li Hanhun, would include the 74th Army, the 155th Division of the 64th Army, a brigade of the 88th Division, and a regiment of the 87th Division, advancing westward from Guide); the Western Route Army, commanded by Gui Yongqing, would comprise the 27th Army, the 71st Army, the 61st Division, and the 78th Division, advancing eastward from Lanfeng; and the Northern Route Army, formed by Sun Tongxuan's 3rd Army and Shang Zhen's 20th Army, was to cut off the enemy's retreat to the north bank of the Yellow River near Dingtao, Heze, Dongming, and Kaocheng, while attacking the Doihara Division from the east, west, and north to annihilate it in a single decisive operation.  On May 21, the Nationalist Army mounted a full-scale offensive. Yu Jishi's 74th Army, commanded by Wang Yaowu's 51st Division, joined a brigade of Song Xilian's 71st Army, led by the 88th Division, and drove the Japanese forces at Mazhuangzhai into retreat, capturing Neihuang and Renheji. The main Japanese force, more than 6,000 strong, withdrew southwest to Yangjiji and Shuangtaji. Song Xilian, commanding Shen Fazao's 87th Division, launched a sharp assault on Yejigang (Yifeng). The Japanese abandoned the stronghold, but their main body continued advancing toward Yangjiji, with some units retreating to Donggangtou and Maoguzhai. On May 23, Song Xilian's 71st Army and Yu Jishi's 74th Army enveloped and annihilated enemy forces at Donggangtou and Maoguzhai. That evening they seized Ximaoguzhai, Yangzhuang, and Helou, eliminating more than a thousand Japanese troops. The Japanese troops at Donggangtou fled toward Lanfeng. Meanwhile, Gui Yongqing's forces were retreating through Lanfeng. His superior strength, Jiang Fusheng's 36th Division, Li Liangrong's 46th Division, Zhong Song's 61st Division, Li Wen's 78th Division, Long Muhan's 88th Division, and Shen Ke's 106th Division—had held defensive positions along the Lanfeng–Yangji line. Equipped with a tank battalion and armored vehicle company commanded by Qiu Qingquan, they blocked the enemy's westward advance and awaited Japanese exhaustion. However, under the Japanese offensive, Gui Yongqing's poor command led to the loss of Maji and Mengjiaoji, forcing the 27th Army to retreat across its entire front. Its main force fled toward Qixian and Kaifeng. The Japanese seized the opportunity to capture Quxingji, Luowangzhai, and Luowang Railway Station west of Lanfeng. Before retreating, Gui Yongqing ordered Long Muhan to dispatch a brigade to replace the 106th Division in defending Lanfeng, while he directed the 106th Division to fall back to Shiyuan. Frightened by the enemy, Long Muhan unilaterally withdrew his troops on the night of the 23rd, leaving Lanfeng undefended. On the 24th, Japanese troops advancing westward from Donggangtou entered Lanfeng unopposed and, relying on well-fortified fortifications, held their ground until reinforcements arrived. In the initial four days, the Nationalist offensive failed to overwhelm the Japanese, who escaped encirclement and annihilation. The four infantry and artillery regiments and one cavalry regiment on the Japanese side managed to hold the line along Lanfeng, Luowangzhai, Sanyizhai, Lanfengkou, Quxingji, Yang'erzhai, and Chenliukou on the south bank of the Yellow River, offering stubborn resistance. The Longhai Railway was completely cut off. Chiang Kai-shek, furious upon hearing the news while stationed in Zhengzhou, ordered the execution of Long Muhan, commander of the 88th Division, to restore military morale. He also decided to consolidate Hu Zongnan's, Li Hanhun's, Yu Jishi's, Song Xilian's, and Gui Yongqing's troops into the 1st Corps, with Xue Yue as commander-in-chief. On the morning of May 25, they launched a determined counterattack on Doihara's 14th Division. Song Xilian personally led the front lines on May 24 to rally the defeated 88th Division.  Starting on May 25, after three days of intense combat, Li Hanhun's 64th Army advanced to seize Luowang Station and Luowangzhai, while Song Xilian's 71st Army retook Lanfeng City, temporarily reopening the Longhai Line to traffic. At Sanyi Village, Gui Yongqing's 27th Army and Yu Jishi's 74th Army captured a series of outlying positions, including Yang'eyao, Chailou, Cailou, Hezhai, Xuelou, and Baowangsi. Despite these gains, more than 6,000 Japanese troops offered stubborn resistance. During the fighting, Ji Hongru, commander of the 302nd Regiment, was seriously wounded but continued to fight, shouting, “Don't worry about my death! Brothers, fight on!” He ultimately died a heroic death from his wounds. By May 27, Chiang Kai-shek, concerned that the forces had not yet delivered a decisive victory at Lanfeng, personally reprimanded the participating generals and ordered them to completely encircle and annihilate the enemy west of Lanfeng by the following day. He warned that if the opportunity was missed and Japanese reinforcements arrived, the position could be endangered. The next day, Chiang Kai-shek issued another telegram, urging Cheng Qian's First War Zone and all participating units to press the offensive. The telegram allegedly had this in it “It will forever be a laughingstock in the history of warfare.” Meanwhile on the other side, to prevent the annihilation of Doihara's 14th Division, the elite Japanese 16th Division and the 3rd Mixed Brigade, totaling over 40,000 men, launched a westward assault from Dangshan, capturing Yucheng on May 26. They then began probing the outskirts of Guide. Huang Jie's Eighth Army, responsible for the defense, withdrew to the outskirts of Guide that evening. On May 28, Huang Jie again led his troops on his own initiative, retreating to Liuhe and Kaifeng, leaving only the 187th Division to defend Zhuji Station and Guide City. At dawn on May 29, Peng Linsheng, commander of the 187th Division, also withdrew his troops, leaving Guide a deserted city. The Japanese occupied Guide without a fight. The loss of Guide dramatically shifted the tide of the war. Threatened on the flanks by the Japanese 16th Division, the Nationalist forces were forced onto the defensive. On May 28, the Japanese 14th Division concentrated its forces to counterattack Gui Yongqing's troops, but they were defeated again, allowing the Japanese to stabilize their position. At the same time, the fall of Shangqiu compelled Xue Yue's corps to withdraw five divisions to block the enemy in Shangqiu, and the Nationalist Army shifted to a defensive posture with the 14th Division holding Sanyizhai and Quxingji. To the north of the battlefield, the Japanese 4th Mixed Brigade, numbering over 10,000 men, was preparing to force a crossing of the Yellow River in order to join with the nearby 14th Division. More seriously, the 10th Division, together with its 13th Mixed Brigade and totaling more than 40,000 men, had captured Woyang and Bozhou on the Henan-Anhui border and was rapidly encircling eastern Henan. By the time of the Battle of Lanfeng, Japanese forces had deployed more than 100,000 troops, effectively surrounding the Nationalist army. On May 31, the First War Zone decided to withdraw completely, and the Battle of Lanfeng ended in defeat for the Nationalists, forcing Chiang Kai-shek to authorize diverting the Yellow River embankment to relieve pressure. The consequence was a deteriorating strategic situation, as encirclement tightened and reinforcement options dwindled, driving a retreat from the Lanfeng front. The National Army suffered more than 67,000 casualties, killed and wounded more than 10,000 Japanese soldiers, Lanfeng was lost, and Zhengzhou was in danger.  As in Nanjing, this Chinese army might have lived to fight another day, but the effect on Xuzhou itself was horrific. The city had endured Japanese bombardment since August 1937, and the population's mood swung between cautious hope and utter despair. In March, Du Zhongyuan visited Xuzhou. Before he left Wuhan, friends told him that “the city was desolate and the people were terrified, all the inhabitants of Xuzhou were quietly getting on with their business … sometimes it was even calmer than Wuhan.” The Australian journalist Rhodes Farmer recalled a similar image in a book published at war's end, noting the “ordinary townsfolk who became wardens, fire-fighters and first-aid workers during the raid and then went back to their civil jobs.” Yet the mid-May departure of Nationalist troops left the city and its outskirts at the mercy of an angry Imperial Army. Bombing continued through the final days of battle, and a single raid on May 14, 1938 killed 700 people. Around Xuzhou, buildings and bridges were destroyed—some by retreating Chinese forces, some by advancing Japanese troops. Taierzhuang, the scene of the earlier iconic defense, was utterly destroyed. Canadian Jesuits who remained in Xuzhou after its fall recorded that more than a third of the houses were razed, and most of the local population had fled in terror. In rural areas around the city, massacres were repeatedly reported, many witnessed by missionaries. Beyond the atrocities of the Japanese, locals faced banditry in the absence of law enforcement, and vital agricultural work such as planting seed ground to a halt. The loss of Xuzhou was both strategic and symbolic. It dealt a severe blow to Chiang's attempt to hold central China and to control regional troop movements. Morale, which Taierzhuang had briefly boosted, was battered again though not extinguished. The fall signaled that the war would be long, and that swift victory against Japan was no longer likely. Mao Zedong's Yan'an base, far to the northwest, grasped the meaning of defeat there. In May 1938 he delivered one of his most celebrated lectures, “On Protracted War,” chiding those who had over-optimistically claimed the Xuzhou campaign could be a quasi-decisive victory and arguing that, after Taierzhuang, some had become “giddy.” Mao insisted that China would ultimately prevail, yet he warned that it could not be won quickly, and that the War of Resistance would be protracted. In the meantime, the development of guerrilla warfare remained an essential piece of the long-term strategy that the Communist armies would pursue in north China. Yet the loss of Xuzhou did not necessarily portend a long war; it could, instead, presage a war that would be terrifyingly short. By spring 1938 the Chinese defenders were desperate. There was a real danger that the entire war effort could collapse, and the Nationalist governments' notable success as protectors of a shrinking “Free China” lay in avoiding total disaster. Government propaganda had successfully portrayed a plan beyond retreat to foreign observers, yet had Tokyo captured Wuhan in the spring, the Chinese Army would have had to withdraw at speed, reinforcing perceptions of disintegration. Western governments were unlikely to intervene unless convinced it was in their interests. Within the Nationalist leadership, competing instincts persisted. The government pursued welfare measures for the people in the midst of a massive refugee relief effort, the state and local organizations, aided by the International Red Cross, housed large numbers of refugees in 1937–1938. Yet there was a harsher strain within policy circles, with some officials willing to sacrifice individual lives for strategic or political ends as the Japanese threat intensified. Throughout central China, the Yellow River, China's “Sorrow”, loomed as the dominant geographic force shaping history. The loess-laden river, notorious for floods and shifting channels, was banked by massive dikes near Zhengzhou, exactly along the line the Japanese would traverse toward Wuhan. Using the river as a military instrument was discussed as a drastic option: Chiang and Cheng Qian's First War Zone contemplated diverting or breaching the dikes to halt or slow the Japanese advance, a measure that could buy time but would unleash enormous civilian suffering. The idea dated back to 1887 floods that cost hundreds of thousands of lives, and even in 1935 Alexander von Falkenhausen had warned that the Yellow River could become the final line of defense. In 1938 Chiang, recognizing the futility of defeating the Japanese by conventional means at Zhengzhou, considered unleashing the river's force if necessary to impede the invaders. The political and strategic calculus was stark: protect central China and Wuhan, even if it required drastic and morally fraught measures. A more humane leader might have hesitated to break the dikes and spare the dams, allowing the Japanese to take Wuhan. But Chiang Kai-shek believed that if the dikes were not breached and Wuhan fell within days, the Nationalist government might be unable to relocate to Chongqing in time and would likely surrender, leaving Japan in control of almost all of China. Some have compared the choice to France's surrender in June 1940, underscoring that Chiang's decision came during the country's most terrifying assault, with Chinese forces much weaker and less trained than their European counterparts. The dilemma over whether to break the Yellow River dikes grew out of desperation. Chiang ultimately ordered General Wei Rulin to blow the dike that held the Yellow River in central Henan. There was no doubt about the consequences: floods would inundate vast areas of central China, creating a waterlogged barrier that would halt the Japanese advance. Yet for the plan to succeed, it had to be carried out quickly, and the government could offer no public warning in case the Japanese detected it and accelerated their movement. Xiong Xianyu, chief of staff in the 8th Division at the time, recorded the urgency of those hours in his diary. The Japanese were already on the north bank of the Yellow River, briefly delayed when the Chinese army blew up the railway bridge across the river. The destruction of the dikes was the next step: if the area became a sea of mud, there would be no way the Japanese could even attempt to reconstruct the bridge. Blasting the dikes proved easier in theory than in practice. Holding back such a massive body of water required substantial engineering, dams thick and well fortified. The army made its first attempts to blow the dike at the small town of Zhaokou between June 4 and 6, 1938, but the structure proved too durable; another nearby attempt failed as well. Hour by hour, the Japanese moved closer. Division commander Jiang Zaizhen asked Xiong Xianyu for his opinion on where they might breach the dams. Xiong wrote “I discussed the topography, and said that two places, Madukou and Huayuankou, were both possible.” But Madukou was too close to Zhaokou, where the breach had already failed, presenting a danger that the Japanese might reach it very soon. The village of Huayuankou, however, lay farther away and on a bend in the river: “To give ourselves enough time, Huayuankou would be best.” At first, the soldiers treated the task as a military engineering assignment, an “exciting” one in Xiong's words. Xiong and Wei Rulin conducted their first site inspection after dark, late on June 6. The surroundings offered a deceptive calm: Xiong recounted “The wind blew softly, and the river water trickled pleasantly.” Yet gauging the water level proved difficult, hampered by murky moonlight and burned-out flashlights. They spent the night in their car to determine precisely where to break the dike as soon as day broke. But daylight seemed to bring home the consequences of what they planned to do, and the soldiers grew increasingly anxious. Wang Songmei, commander of the 2nd Regiment, addressed the workers about to breach the dike: “My brothers, this plan will be of benefit to our country and our nation, and will lessen the harm that is being done to the people.In the future, you'll find good wives and have plenty of children.” Wang's words were meant to reassure the men of the political necessity of their actions and that fate would not, in the traditional Chinese sense, deny them a family because of the enormity of their deeds. General Wei confirmed that Huayuankou was the right spot, and on June 8 the work began, with about 2,000 men taking part. The Nationalist government was eager to ensure rapid progress. Xiong recorded that the “highest authorities”,, kept making telephone calls from Wuhan to check on progress. In addition, the party sent performers to sing and play music to bolster the workers' spirits. Senior General Shang Zhen announced to the laborers that if they breached the dam by midnight on June 8, each would receive 2,000 yuan; if they achieved it by six the next morning, they would still be paid 1,000 yuan. They needed encouragement, for the diggers had no artificial assistance. After the initial failures at Zhaokou, Wei's troops relied entirely on manual labor, with no explosives used. Yet the workers earned their payments, and the dike was breached in just a few hours. On the morning of June 9, Xiong recorded a rapid shift in mood: the atmosphere became tense and solemn. Initially, the river flow was modest, but by about 1:00 p.m. the water surged “fiercely,” flowing “like 10,000 horses.” Looking toward the distance, Xiong felt as though a sea had appeared before him. “My heart ached,” he wrote. The force of the water widened the breach, and a deadly stream hundreds of feet wide comprising about three-quarters of the river's volume—rushed southeast across the central Chinese plains. “We did this to stop the enemy,” Xiong reflected, “so we didn't regret the huge sacrifice, as it was for a greater victory.” Yet he and the other soldiers also saw a grim reality: the troops who had taken on the task of destroying the railway bridge and the dikes could not bear the flood's consequences alone. It would be up to the government and the people of the nation to provide relief for the countless households uprooted by the flood. In fact, the previous evening Commander Jiang had telephoned to request assistance for those flooded out of their homes.   Wei, Xiong, and their troops managed to escape by wooden boats. Hundreds of thousands of farmers trapped in the floods were far less fortunate. Time magazine's correspondent Theodore White reported on the devastation a few days later “Last week “The Ungovernable” [i.e. the Yellow River] lashed out with a flood which promised to change not only its own course but also the course of the whole Sino-Japanese War. Severe breaks in the dikes near Kaifeng sent a five-foot wall of water fanning out over a 500-squaremile area, spreading death. Toll from Yellow River floods is not so much from quick drowning as from gradual disease and starvation. The river's filth settles ankle-deep on the fields, mothering germs, smothering crops. Last week, about 500,000 peasants were driven from 2,000 communities to await rescue or death on whatever dry ground they could find”. Chiang's government had committed one of the grossest acts of violence against its own people, and he knew that the publicity could be a damaging blow to its reputation. He decided to divert blame by announcing that the dike had been broken, but blaming the breach on Japanese aerial bombing. The Japanese, in turn, fiercely denied having bombed the dikes. White's reporting reflected the immediate response of most foreigners; having heard about the atrocities at Nanjing and Xuzhou, he was disinclined to give the Japanese the benefit of the doubt. Furthermore, at the very time that the Yellow River was flooding central China, the Japanese were heavily bombing Guangzhou, causing thousands of casualties. To White, the Japanese counterargument—that the Chinese themselves were responsible, seemed unthinkable: “These accusations, foreign observers thought, were absurd. For the Chinese to check the Japanese advance at possible sacrifice of half a million lives would be a monstrous pyrrhic victory. Besides, dike-cutting is the blackest of Chinese crimes, and the Chinese Army would hardly risk universal censure for slight tactical gains.” But, of course, that is exactly what they had done. During the war the Nationalists never admitted that they, not the Japanese, had breached the dikes. But the truth quickly became widely known. Just a month later, on July 19, US Ambassador Johnson noted, in private communication, that the “Chinese blocked the advance on Chengchow [Zhengzhou] by breaching the Yellow River dikes.” Eventually some 54,000 square kilometers of central China were inundated by the floods. If the Japanese had committed such an act, it would have been remembered as the prime atrocity of the war, dwarfing even the Nanjing Massacre or the Chongqing air raids in terms of the number of people who suffered. Accurate statistics were impossible to obtain in the midst of wartime chaos and disaster, but in 1948 figures issued by the Nationalists themselves suggested enormous casualties: for the three affected provinces of Henan, Anhui, and Jiangsu, the number of dead was put at 844,489, with some 4.8 million becoming refugees. More recent studies place the numbers lower, but still estimate the dead at around 500,000, and 3–5 million refugees. In contrast, the devastating May 1939 air raids on Chongqing killed some thousands. Xiong reflected in his diary that the breaching of the Yellow River dikes was a sacrifice for a greater victory. Even to some Japanese it seemed that the tactic had been successful in the short term: the first secretary at the US Embassy in Wuhan reported that the flood had “completely checked the Japanese advance on Chengchow” and had prevented them taking Wuhan by rail. Instead, he predicted, the attack was likely to come by water and along the north shore of the Yangtze. Supporters of the dike breaches could argue that these acts saved central China and Chiang's headquarters in Wuhan for another five months. The Japanese were indeed prevented from advancing along the Long–Hai railway toward Wuhan. In the short term the floods did what the Nationalists wanted. But the flooding was a tactic, a breathing space, and did not solve the fundamental problem: China's armies needed strong leadership and rapid reform. Some historians suggest that Chiang's decision was pointless anyway, since it merely delayed the inevitable. Theodore White was right: no strategic advantage could make the deaths of 500,000 of China's own people a worthwhile price to pay. However, Chiang Kai-shek's decision can be partly explained, though not excused, by the context. We can now look back at the actions of the Nationalists and argue that they should not have held on to Wuhan, or that their actions in breaching the dam were unjustifiable in the extreme. But for Chiang, in the hot summer of 1938, it seemed his only hope was to deny Japan as much of China for as long as possible and create the best possible circumstances for a long war from China's interior, while keeping the world's attention on what Japan was doing. The short delay won by the flooding was itself part of the strategy. In the struggle raging within the soul of the Nationalist Party, the callous, calculating streak had won, for the time being. The breaking of the dikes marked a turning point as the Nationalists committed an act whose terrible consequences they would eventually have to expiate. 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. In late 1937, China's frontline trembled as Japanese forces closed in on Wuhan. Chiang Kai-shek faced a brutal choice: endure costly defenses or unleash a desperate gamble. Chiangs' radical plan emerged: breach the Yellow River dikes at Huayuankou to flood central China, buying time. The flood roared, washing villages and futures away, yet slowing the enemy. The battlefield paused, while a nation weighed courage against civilian suffering, victory against devastating costs.

8. Blockade vs. Invasion: Ending the Pacific War and Post-War Command AUTHOR: Professor Craig Symonds BOOK TITLE: Nimitz at War: Command Leadership from Pearl Harbor to Tokyo Bay Nimitz and King opposed the planned invasion of the Japanese home islands (Operation Downfall), arguing that a strict naval blockade, executed primarily by submarines, combined with bombing, would force surrender. They calculated that an invasion would cost hundreds of thousands of American lives and millions of Japanese lives, given the culture of fighting to the death. Nimitz was informed about the secret development of a special weapon (the atomic bomb) in March 1945 to ensure targets were reserved. After the war ended, Nimitz was the logical candidate for Chief of Naval Operations (CNO), though he faced opposition from the aviation community (Towers). He accepted a two-year term as CNO. Admiral Spruance declined high command, instead choosing to become President of the Naval War College to teach future officers the lessons learned in the Pacific War.

7. Kamikazes, Typhoons, and the Unstoppable Halsey AUTHOR: Professor Craig Symonds BOOK TITLE: Nimitz at War: Command Leadership from Pearl Harbor to Tokyo Bay Admiral Halsey recklessly navigated his fleet through two major typhoons (December 1944 and June 1945), causing severe losses including three ships sunk and 800 lives lost in the first storm. Despite recommendations for dismissal, Nimitz refused to fire Halsey, using calculated risk that removing the popular, iconic commander would negatively impact American morale. Nimitz moved his headquarters to Guam to be closer to the fighting. At Iwo Jima, Marine commanders argued the Navy provided inadequate preparatory gunfire, though the Japanese tactic of fighting to the death was the primary cause of casualties. During the Okinawa campaign, the Japanese introduced the terrifying Kamikaze tactic—the one element Nimitz noted the Naval War College had not anticipated. The Kamikazes inflicted horrific losses, but ultimately failed to force negotiations. 8. Blockade vs. Invasion: Ending the Pacific War and Post-War Command AUTHOR: Professor Craig Symonds BOOK TITLE: Nimitz at War: Command Leadership from Pearl Harbor to Tokyo Bay Nimitz and King opposed the planned invasion of the Japanese home islands (Operation Downfall), arguing that a strict naval blockade, executed primarily by submarines, combined with bombing, would force surrender. They calculated that an invasion would cost hundreds of thousands of American lives and millions of Japanese lives, given the culture of fighting to the death. Nimitz was informed about the secret development of a special weapon (the atomic bomb) in March 1945 to ensure targets were reserved. After the war ended, Nimitz was the logical candidate for Chief of Naval Operations (CNO), though he faced opposition from the aviation community (Towers). He accepted a two-year term as CNO. Admiral Spruance declined high command, instead choosing to become President of the Naval War College to teach future officers the lessons learned in the Pacific War.

Hey guys, what you are about to listen to is basically a “what if” Japan performed Hokushin-ron instead of Nanshin-ron, ie: What if Japan invaded the USSR during WW2? Before I jump into it I just want to thank all of you that signed up for the patreon, you guys are awesome. Please leave a comment on this episode to let me know what more you want to hear about in the future. With all of that said and done lets jump right into it.   Part 1 The Geopolitical context   Ok so, one of the questions I get the most is, what if Japan invaded the USSR. I've actually already tackled this subject, albeit lightly with Cody from AlternatehistoryHub and once with my friend Eric. Its too complicated to give a real answer, a lot of this is guess work, though I really will try to provide hard numbers. I think off the bat something needs to be made clear since we are dealing with alternate history. I am not doing a “what if Japan developed completely different, or what if the IJA got their way in the early 1930's” no no, this is going to be as realistic as possible…even though this is batshit crazy.    Japan faced the decision of whether to go to war with the USSR in 1941 during Operation Barbarossa. They held meetings, made plans, and ultimately it was decided they would not engage the Soviets. Our scenario will follow exactly what they did to a T, but when the made the decision not to go to war, we will see them go to war.    Now before I jump into our this timeline, I think its very important to explain the actual situation Japan faced in 1941. There were two major strategies that emerged during the 1930's within the Japanese military. Many junior officers in the IJA favored the Hokushin-ron “northern strike” strategy against the USSR. Many officers in the IJN with some in the IJA favored the Nanshin-ron “southern strike” strategy, to seize the resource rich dutch east indies by invading Southeast Asia and the Pacific. The idea of Hokushin-ron was to perform an invasion into Southern Siberia and outer mongolia ending around Lake Baikal where they would set up defenses. They had already tried to establish this during the Russian civil war as part of the Siberian Intervention, but failed to create a buffer state. From 1935-1939 there were 108 border clashes between the USSR and Japan. In 1938 one of these border clashes turned into quite a catastrophe, it was called the battle of Lake Khasan.  The Soviets suffered nearly 800 deaths, more than 3000 wounded, perhaps nearly 50 tanks were destroyed with another 100 damaged. The Japanese suffered about 600 deaths with 2500 wounded. The result ultimately was a ceasefire, but for the Kwantung army it seemed to them like a victory. In May of 1939 they had a much larger and more famous battle known as the battle of Khalkhin Gol.  During the early part of the battle the IJA sent 80 tanks crossing over Khalkhin Gol, driving the Soviets back towards Baintsagan Hill. Zhukov was waiting for the attack and sent 450 tanks and armored cars unsupported by infantry to attack the IJA from three sides. The IJA were practically encircled and lost half their armored units as they struggled to fight back as it withdrew. The two armies spared for the next 2 weeks along the east bank of the Khalkhin Gol. Problem was the Japanese were having issues getting their supplies to the area as they lacked motor transport while Zhukov whose army was over 460 miles away from its base of supply had 2600 trucks supplying them. On july 23rd the Japanese launched attacks supported by artillery and within two days they had consumed half their ammunition stores. The situation was terrible, they suffered 5000 casualties and made little progress breaking the Soviet lines. Zhukov then unleashed an offensive on august 20th using over 4000 trucks to transport supplies from Chita base. He assembled around 500 tanks, 550 fighters and bombers and his 50,000 infantry supported by armored cars. This mechanized force attacked the Japanese first using artillery and the aircraft as his armor and infantry crossed the river. The IJA were quickly flanked by the fast moving Soviet armor and encircled by August 25th. The IJA made attempts to break out of the encirclement but failed. They refused to surrender despite overwhelming artillery and aerial bombardment; by the 31st the Japanese forces on the Mongolian side of the border were destroyed. The Japanese suffered nearly 20,000 casualties, the lost 162 aircraft, 29 tanks, 7 tankettes, 72 artillery pieces a large number of vehicles. The Soviets took a heavy hit also suffering almost 25,000 casualties, 250 aircraft, 250 tanks, 133 armored cars, almost 100 artillery pieces, hundreds of vehicles. While these numbers make it seem the Japanese did a great job, you need to consider what each party was bringing to this fight. The Japanese brought roughly 30,000 men, 80 tanks and tankettes, 400 aircraft, 300 artillery pieces, 1000 trucks. The Soviets brought nearly 75,000 men, 550 tanks, 900 aircraft, 634 artillery pieces, 4000 trucks. There are some sources that indicate the IJA brought as many artillery rounds as they could muster from Japan, Manchuria and Korea, roughly 100,000 rounds for the operation. The Soviets fired 100,000 rounds per day. A quick look at wikipedia numbers, yes I know its a no no, but sometimes its good for quick perspectives show: USSR: Bomber sorties 2,015, fighter sorties 18,509; 7.62 mm machine gun rounds fired 1,065,323; 20 mm (0.80 in) cannon rounds expended 57,979; bombs dropped 78,360 (1,200 tons). Japan: Fighter/bomber sorties 10,000 (estimated); 7.7 mm (0.30 in) machine gun rounds fired 1.6 million; bombs dropped 970 tons. What I am trying to say is there was an enormous disparity in military production. And this is not just limited to numbers but quality. After the battle the Japanese made significant reforms. They increased tank production from 500 annually to 1200. The Japanese funded research into new anti-tank guns, such as the Type 1 47 mm. They mounted this gun to their Type 97 Chi-Ha tanks, the new standard medium tank of the IJA. Because of the tremendous defeat to Soviet armor they send General Yamashita to Germany to learn everything he could about tank tactics. But they simply could not produce enough tanks to ever hope to match 10% of the USSR. The Soviets had mostly been using T-26's, BT-5's and BT-7's who were crudely made, but made en masse. The Japanese would find most of their tank models with less effective range, less armor and some with less penetration power. It took the Japanese a hell of a lot more time to produce tanks, they were simply not on par with the Soviets in quantity or quality. Their tank tactics, albeit improved via Yamashita after 1939, were still nothing compared to the Soviets.  The major outcome of the battle of Lake Khasan and Khalkhin Gol was the abandonment of the hokushin-ron strategy and adoption of the nanshin-ron strategy. But, that didnt mean Japan did not have a plan in case they had to go to war with the USSR. Part 2 Kantōgun Tokushu Enshū Kantōgun Tokushu Enshū or the Kwantung Army Special Maneuvers was an operational plan created by the General Staff of the IJA for an invasion of the Russian Far East to capitalize on Operation Barbarossa. Here our story truly begin. Between 1938-1939 the IJA General Staff and Kwantung Army formed two “Hachi-Go” plans. Variants A and B examined the possibility of an all out war with the USSR beginning in 1943. In both plans they expected to be facing 60 Soviet divisions, while they could deliver 50 divisions, delivered incrementally from China and Japan. Plan A called for attacks across the eastern and northern borders of Manchuria while maintaining a defensive stance in the west. Plan B, much more ambitious, called for striking into the vast steppe between the Great Khingan Mountains and Lake Baikal, hoping to cut off the trans-siberian railway. If this was done successfully it was believed the whole of European Russia would be doomed to be defeated in detail. Defeated in detail means to divide and conquer. This battle would take place over 5000 kilometers with Japan's final objective being to advance 1200 km into the USSR. That dwarves Operation Barbarossa in distance, let that sink in. Both plans faced impossible odds. First of all the railway networks in Manchuria were not sufficiently expanded for such far reaching offensives, especially for plan B. Furthermore the 50 divisions required for them would be impossible to come by, since 1937 Japan was bogged down in a war with China. When Japan went to war with the west in 1941 she had 51 divisions. She left the base minimum in China, 35 divisions and tossed nearly 20 into southeast asia and the pacific. On top of not having the men, the IJA estimated a fleet of 200,000 vehicles would be necessary to sustain an offensive to Lake Baikal. That was twice the number of military vehicles Japan had at any given time. After the battle of Khalkhin Gol, plan B was completely abandoned. Planning henceforth focused solely on the northern and eastern fronts with any western advance being limited in scope. Now Japan formed a neutrality pact with the USSR because of her defeat at Khalkhin Gol and Molotov Ribbentrop pact between Germany and the USSR. The Molotov Ribbentrop Pact came as a bitter and complete surprise to Japan. It pushed Japan to fully adopt the Nanshin-ron strategy and this began with her invasion of French IndoChina, which led the United Kingdom, the Netherlands and United States to embargo her. The Netherlands Dutch East Indies refused to sell oil to Japan, the UK refused to sell oil from Burma and the US gradually cut off selling oil to Japan, with her oil exports alone being 80% of Japans supply, the rest from the Dutch east indies. The United States also placed an embargo on scrap-metal shipments to Japan and closed the Panama Canal to Japanese shipping. 74.1% of Japan's scrap iron came from the United States in 1938, and 93% of Japan's copper in 1939. Other things like Rubber and tin were also off the table, as this was mostly acquired from British held Malaya and the Dutch East Indies.    Now the crux of everything is the China War. Japan was stuck, she needed to win, in order to win she needed the resources she was being denied. The only logical decision was to attack the places with these resources. Thus until 1941, Japan prepared to do just that, investing in the Navy primarily. Then in June of 1941, Hitler suddenly informs the Japanese that he is going to invade the USSR. The Japanese were shocked and extremely angry, they nearly left the Tripartite Pact over the issue. This unprecedented situation that ushered in the question, what should Japan do? There were those like Foreign Minister Yosuke Matsuoka who argued they must abandon the neutrality pact and launch a simultaneous offensive with the Germans against the USSR. The IJA favored this idea….because obviously it would see them receiving more funding as the IJN was currently taking more and more of it for the Nanshin-ron plans. But this is not a game of hearts of Iron IV, the Japanese government had to discuss and plan if they would invade the USSR….and boy it took awhile. I think a lot of you will be very disappointed going forward, but there is no grand unleashing of a million Japanese across the borders into the Soviet Far East, in the real world there is something called logistics and politics.    The Japanese military abided by a flexible response policy, like many nations do today. Theres was specifically called the Junbi Jin Taisei or “preparatory formation setup”. Japan would only go to war with the USSR if favorable conditions were met. So in our timeline the Junbi Jin encountered its first test on June 24th when the IJA/IJN helped a conference in the wake of operation barbarossa. A compromise was made allowing the IJA to prepare an invasion plan if it did not impede on the nanshin-ron plans. There was those in the IJA who argued they should invade the USSR whether conditions were favorable or not, there were those who only wanted to invade if it looked like the USSR was on the verge of collapse. One thing agreed upon was if Japan unleashed a war with the USSR, the hostilities needed to be over by mid-October because the Siberian climate would hit winter and it would simply be impossible to continue. The IJA needed 60-7 days to complete operational preparations and 6-8 weeks to defeat the Soviets within the first phase of the offensive. Here is a breakdown of what they were thinking: 28 June: Decide on mobilization 5 July: Issue mobilization orders 20 July: Begin troop concentration 10 August: Decide on hostilities 24 August: Complete readiness stance 29 August: Concentrate two divisions from North China in Manchuria, bringing the total to 16 5 September: Concentrate four further divisions from the homeland, bringing the total to 22; complete combat stance 10 September (at latest): Commence combat operations 15 October: Complete first phase of war   The plan called for 22 divisions (might I add my own calculations of 20 divisions were pretty spot on), with roughly 850,000 men, including Manchukuo allies, supported by 800,000 tons of shipping. The Japanese hoped the Soviets would toss at least half their forces in the Far East, perhaps 2/3rd of their armor and aircraft against the Germans giving them a 2-1 superiority. Even the 22 divisions was questionable, many in the war ministry thought only 16 divisions could be spared for such a venture, something only suitable for mop up operations in the aftermath of a German victory along the eastern front. It was clear to all, Japan needed perfect conditions to even think about performing such a thing.    The War hawks who still sought to perform Hokushin-ron tried to persaude Hideki Tojo on july 5th to go through with a new plan using a total of 25 divisions. This plan designated “Kantogun Tokushu Enshu or Kantokuen” would involve 2 phases, a buildup and readiness phase and an offensive phase. On July 7th they went to Hirohito for his official sanction for the build up. Hirohito questioned everything, but gradually relented to it. The plan was nearly identical to the former plans, banking on the Soviets being unable to reinforce the Far East because of Germany's progress. The level of commitment was scaled down somewhat, but still enormous. Again a major looming issue was the Manchurian railways that would need to be expanded to accomodate the movement of men and supplies. This meant the construction of port facilities, military barracks, hospitals and such. Kantokuen would begin with a initial blow against the Ussuri front, targeting Primorye and would be followed up by a northern attack against Blagoveshchensk and Kuibyshevka. The 1st area army, 3rd and 20 armies with the 19th division of the Korean army would penetrade the border south of Lake Khanka to breach the main soviet defensive lines, thus threatening Vladivostok. The 5th army would strike south of Dalnerechensk to complete the isolation of the maritime province, sever the trans-sierian railway and block Soviet reinforcements. The 4th army would attack along the Amur river before helping out against Blagoveshchensk. Two reinofrced divisions would invade Sakhalin from land and sea. The second phase would see the capture of Khabarovsk, Komsomolsk, Skovorodino, Sovetskaya Gavan, and Nikolayevsk. Additionally, amphibious operations against Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky and other parts of the Kamchatka Peninsula were contemplated.   It was agreed the operation could only afford 24 divisions, with 1,200,000 men, 35,000 vehicles, 500 tanks, 400,000 horses and 300,000 coolies. The deployment of thse forces would mean the western front facing Mongolia and the Trans-baikal region would be pretty much open, so delaying actions would have to be fought if the soviets performed a counter offensive there. Air forces were critical to the plan. They sought to dispatch up to roughly 2000 aircraft cooperating with 350 naval aircraft to launch a sudden strike against the Soviet Far East Air Force to knock them out early.    The Soviet Far East had two prominent weaknesses to be exploited. Number 1 was Mongolia's 4500 km long horeshoe shaped border. Number 2 was its 100% dependency on European Russia to deliver men, food and war materials via the trans-siberian railway. Any disruption of the trans-siberian railway would prove fatal to the Soviet Far East.    Now as for the Soviets. The 1930's and early 1940's saw the USSR take up a defensive policy, but retained offensive elecments as well. Even with the German invasion and well into 1942, the Soviets held a strategy of tossing back the IJA into Manchuria if attacked. The primary forces defending the Far east in 1941 were the Far Eastern and Trans-Baikal Fronts, under the command of Generals Iosif Apanasenko and Mikhail Kovalyov. The Trans-Baikal front held 9 divisions, including 2 armored, a mechanized brigade and a heavily fortified region west of the Oldoy River near Skovorodino had a garrison. The Far Eastern Front had 23 divisions including 3 armored, 4 brigades and 11 heavily fortified regions with garrisons including Vladivostok. Altogether they had 650,000 men, 5400 tanks, 3000 aircraft, 57,000 vehicles, 15,000 artillery pieces and nearly 100,000 horses. By 1942 the Vladivostok sector had 150 artillery pieces with 75 -356 mm calibers organized into 50 batteries. As you can imagine after Operation Barbarrosa was unleashed, things changed. From June to December, roughly 160,000 men, 3000 tanks, 2670 artillery pieces, 12,000 vehicles and perhaps 1800 aircraft were sent to deal with the Germans. Despite this, the Soviets also greatly expanded a buildup to match the apparent Japanese buildup in Manchuria. By July 22nd 1941 the Far Eastern and Trans-Baikal Fronts were to be raised by 1 million men for august. By December it was nearly 1.2 million. Even the Soviet Far East Navy saw an increase from 100,000 men to 170,000 led by Admiral Yumashev. The Soviet Mongolian allies were capable of manning about 80,000, though they lacked heavy equipment.    Thus if this war broke out in September the Soviets and Mongolians would have just over a million men, with 2/3rds of them manning the Amur-Ussuri-Sakhalin front, the rest would defend Mongolia and the Trans-Baikal region. Even though the war against the Germans was dire, the Soviets never really gave up their prewar planning for how to deal with the Japanese. There would be an all-out defense over the border to prevent any breach of Soviet territory. The main effort would see the 1st and 25th armies holding a north-south axis between the Pacific ocean and Lake Khanka; the 35th army would defend Iman; the 15th and 2nd Red Banner armies would repel the Japanese over the Amur River; and other forces would try to hold out on Sakhalin, Kamchatka and the Pacific coast. The Soviets had constructed hundreds of fortified positions known as Tochkas along the border. Most of these were hexagonal concrete bunkers contained machine gun nests and 76 mm guns. The fortified regions I mentioned were strategically placed forcing the Japanese to overcome them via frontal attacks. This would require heavy artillery to overcome. Despite the great defensive lines, the Soviets did not intend to be passive and would launch counteroffensives. The Soviet air force and Navy would play an active role in defeating a Japanese invasion as well. The air force's objetice would be to destroy the Japanese air force in the air and on the ground, requiring tactical ground attack mission. They would also destroy key railways, bridges and airfields within Manchuria and Korea alongside intercepting IJN shipping. Strategic bombing against the home islands would be limited to under 30 DB-3's who could attack Tokyo, Yokosuka, Maizuru and Ominato. The Soviet Navy would help around the mouth of the Amur River, mine the Tatar Strait and try to hit any IJN ships landing men or materials across the Pacific Coasts.    Japan would not be able to continue a land war with the USSR for very long. According to Japanese military records, in 1942 while at war they were required to produce 50 Kaisenbun. A Kaisenbun is a unit of measurement for ammunition needed for a single division to operate for 4 months. Annual production never surpassed 25 kaisenbun with 100 in reserve. General Shinichi Tanaka estimated for an operation against the USSR 3 Kaisenbun would be needed per divisions, thus a total of 72 would be assigned to 24 divisions. This effectively meant 2/3rds of Japans ammunition stockpile would be used on the initial strike against the USSR. Japan would have been extremely hard pressed to survive such a war cost for 2 years.    Now in terms of equipment Japan had a lot of problems. During the border battles, Japanese artillery often found itself outranged and grossly under supplied compared to the Soviet heavier guns. Despite moving a lot of men and equipment to face the Germans, the Red Army maintained a gross superiority in armor. The best tank the Kwantung Army had in late 1941 was the Type 97 Chi-Ha, holding 33mm armor with a low velocity 57 mm gun. There was also Ha-Go and Te-Ke's with 37 mm guns but they had an effective range less than 1 km.   The Soviet T-26, BT-5 and BT-7's had 45 mm guns more than capable of taking out the Japanese armor and the insult to injury was they were crudely made and very expendable. Every Japanese tank knocked out was far greater a loss, as Japan's production simply could not remotely match the USSR. For aircraft the Japanese were a lot better off. The Polikarpov I-16 was the best Soviet fighter in the Far East and performed alright against the Nakajima Ki-27 at Khalkhin Gol. The rest of the Soviet air arsenal were much older and would struggle. The Soviets would have no answer to the IJN's Zero fighter or the IJA's high speed KI-21 bomber that outraced the Soviet SB-2. Japanese pilots were battle hardened by China and vastly experienced.   Another thing the Japanese would have going for them was quality of troops. The Soviets drained their best men to fight the Germans, so the combat effectiveness in the far east would be less. Without the Pacific War breaking out, some of Japan's best Generals would be brought into this war, of course the first one that comes to mind for me is General Yamashita, probably the most armor competent Japanese general of ww2.    Come August of 1941 those who still sought the invasion of the USSR were facing major crunch time. The IJA planners had assumed the Soviets would transfer 50% or more of their power west to face the Germans, but this was not the case. By August 9th of 1941, facing impossible odds and with the western embargos in full motion, in our timeline the Japanese Hokushin-Ron backers gave up. But for the sake of our story, for some batshit insane reason, the Japanese military leadership and Hirohito give the greenlight for an invasion on August 10th.   Part 3 the catastrophe   So to reiterate the actual world plan had    10 August: Decide on hostilities 24 August: Complete readiness stance 29 August: Concentrate two divisions from North China in Manchuria, bringing the total to 16 5 September: Concentrate four further divisions from the homeland, bringing the total to 22; complete combat stance 10 September (at latest): Commence combat operations 15 October: Complete first phase of war   So what is key to think about here is the events of September. The Battle for Moscow is at the forefront, how does a Japanese invasion in the first week or two of September change things? This is going to probably piss off some of you, but Operation Typhoon would still fail for Germany.  In our time line the legendary spy Richard Sorge sent back information on Japan's decision to invade the USSR between August 25th to September 14th. On the 25th he informed Stalin the Japanese high command were still discussing whether to go to war or not with the USSR. On September 6th Stalin was informed the Japanese were beginning preparations for a war against the west. Then on September 14th, the most important message was relayed to Stalin "In the careful judgment of all of us here... the possibility of [Japan] launching an attack, which existed until recently, has disappeared...."[15]    With this information on hand from 23 June to 31 December 1941, Stalin transferred a total of 28 divisions west. This included 18 rifle divisions, 1 mountain rifle division, 3 tank divisions, 3 mechanized divisions and 3 mountain cavalry divisions. The transfers occurred mainly in June (11 divisions) and October (9 divisions).    Here we come to a crossroads and I am going to have to do some blunt predictions. Let's go from the most optimistic to the most pessimistic. Scenario 1) for some insane reason, Stalin abandons Moscow and moves his industry further east, something the Soviets were actively preparing during Operation Typhoon. This is not a defeat of the USSR, it certainly would prolong the war, but not a defeat. Now that seems rather silly. Scenario 2) Stalin attempts transferring half of what he did in our time line back to Moscow and the Germans fail to take it. The repercussions of course is a limited counteroffensive, it wont be as grand as in our timeline, but Moscow is saved. Scenario 3) and the most likely in my opinion, why would Stalin risk moscow for the Far East? Stalin might not transfer as many troops, but certainly he would have rather placed his chips in Moscow rather than an enemy literally 6000 km's away who have to cross a frozen desert to get to anything he cares about.  Even stating these scenarios, the idea the German army would have taken Moscow if some of the very first units from the far east arrived, because remember a lot of these units did not make it in time to defend moscow, rather they contributed to the grand counteroffensive after the Germans stalled. The German armies in front of Moscow were depleted, exhausted, unsupplied and freezing. Yes many of the Soviet armies at Moscow were hastily thrown together, inexperienced, poorly led and still struggling to regain their balance from the German onslaught. Yet from most sources, and by sources I mean armchair historian types argue, the Germans taking Moscow is pretty unlikely. And moscow was not even that important. What a real impact might have been was the loss of the Caucasus oil fields in early 1942, now that could have brought the USSR down, Moscow, not so much, again the Soviets had already pulled their industry further east, they could do it again.   So within the context of this Second Russo-Japanese War, figure the German's still grind to a halt, they don't take Moscow, perhaps Soviets dont push them back as hard, but the USSR is not collapsing by any means. Ok now before we talk about Japans invasion we actually need to look at some external players. The UK/US/Netherlands already began massive embargoes against Japan for oil, iron, rubber, tin, everything she needed to continue her war, not just against the USSR, but with over 35 divisions fighting in China. President Roosevelt was looking for any excuse to enter WW2 and was gradually increasing ways to aid Britain and the Soviets.  Now American's lend-lease program seriously aided the USSR during WW2, particularly the initial stages of the war. The delivery of lend-lease to the USSR came through three major routes: the Arctic Convoys, the Persian Corridor, and the Pacific Route. The Arctic route was the shortest and most direct route for lend-lease aid to the USSR, though it was also the most dangerous as it involved sailing past German-occupied Norway. Some 3,964,000 tons of goods were shipped by the Arctic route; 7% was lost, while 93% arrived safely. The Persian Corridor was the longest route, and was not fully operational until mid-1942. Thereafter it saw the passage of 4,160,000 tons of goods, 27% of the total. The most important was the Pacific Route which opened up in August of 1941, but became affected when Japan went to war with America. The major port was Vladivostok, where only Soviet ships could transport non-military goods some 8,244,000 tons of goods went by this route, 50% of the total. Vladivostok would almost certainly be captured by the Japanese in our scenario so it won't be viable after its capture. Here is the sticky part, Japan is not at war with the US, so the US is pretty much free to find different Pacific paths to get lend-lease to the Soviets, and to be honest there's always the Arctic or Persian corridors. Hell in this scenario America will be able to get supplies easily into China as there will be no war in Burma, hong kong, Malaya and such. America alone is going to really ruin Japans day by increasing lend-lease to the UK, China and the USSR. America wont be joining the war in 1941, but I would strongly wager by hook or by crook, FDR would pull them into a war against Germany, probably using the same tactic Woodrow Wilson did with WW1. This would only worsen things for Japan. Another player of course is China. Late 1941, China was absolutely battered by Japan. With Japan pulling perhaps even more troops than she did for the Pacific war to fight the USSR, Chiang Kai-Shek would do everything possible to aid his new found close ally Stalin. How this would work out is anyone's guess, but it would be significant as I believe America would be providing a lot more goodies.    Ok you've all been patient, what happens with the war? Japan has to deliver a decisive knock out blow in under 4-6 months, anything after this is simply comical as Japan's production has no resources. The oil in siberia is not even remotely on the table. The Japanese can't find it, would not be able to exploit it, let alone quick enough to use it for the war. Hell the Italians were sitting on oil in Libya and they never figured that out during WW2.   So Kantokuen is unleashed with an initial blow against the Primorye in the Ussuri Front followed by an assault against Blagoveshchensk and Kiubyshevka. The main soviet lines south of Lake Khanka are attacked by the Japanese 1st area army, 3rd and 20th armies and the 19th Korean division. This inturn threatens Vladivostok who is also being bombarded by IJA/IJN aircraft. The 5th Ija army attacks south of Dalnerechensk in an attempt to sever the trans-siberian railway, to block Soviet reinforcements and supplies. The 4th IJA army fords the Amur river to help with the assault of Blagoveshchensk. Meanwhile Sakhalin is being attacked from land and sea by two IJA divisions.  Despite the Soviets being undermanned the western front facing Mongolia and the Trans-Baikal region is wide up to an attack as its only defended by the 23rd IJA division, so a limited counteroffensive begins there. The Japanese quickly win air superiority, however the heavily fortified Tochkas are not being swept aside as the Japanese might have hoped. A major problem the Japanese are facing is Soviet artillery. The Japanese artillery already placed along the borders, initially performed well, crushing Tochkas in range, but when the Japanese begin advancing and deploying their artillery units they are outgunned perhaps 3-1, much of the Soviet artillery outranges them and the Soviets have a much larger stockpile of shells. Airpower is failing to knock out soviet artillery which is placed within Tochkas and other fortified positions with anti-aircraft guns. Without achieving proper neutralization or counter battery fire, the Japanese advance against the fortified Soviet positions. The Soviets respond shockingly with counterattacks. The 15th and 35th Soviet armies with the Amur Red Banner Military Flotilla toss limited counterattacks against both sides of the Sungari River, harassing the Japanese. While much of the soviet armor had been sent west, their light tanks which would be useless against the Germans have been retained in the far east and prove capable of countering the IJA tanks. The Soviets inflict tremendous casualties, however General Yamashita, obsessed with blitzkrieg style warfare he saw first hand in the west, eventually exploits a weak area in the line.Gradually a blitzkrieg punches through and begins to circle around hitting Soviet fortified positions from the rear. The Soviets knew this would be the outcome and had prepared to fight a defense in depth, somewhat managing the onslaught.  The trans-siberian railway has been severed in multiple locations close to the border area, however this is not as effective as it could be, the Japanese need to hook deeper to cut the line further away. In the course of weeks the Soviets are gradually dislodged from their fortified positions, fighting a defense in depth over great stretches of land. Vladivostok holds out surprisingly long until the IJN/IJA seize the city. Alongside this Sakhalin is taken with relative ease. The Soviet surface fleet is annihilated, but their large submarine force takes a heavy toll of the IJN who are attempting Pacific landings. Kantokuen phase 1 is meeting its objectives, but far later than expected with much more casualties than expected. The Japanese are shocked by the fuel consumption as they advance further inland. Each truck bearing fuel is using 50% of said fuel to get to the troops, something reminiscent of the north african campaign situation for Rommel. The terrain is terrible for their vehicles full of valleys, hills, forests and mountains. Infrastructure in the region is extremely underdeveloped and the Soviets are burning and destroying everything before the Japanese arrive. All key roads and cities are defended until the Japanese can encircle the Soviets, upon which they depart, similar to situations the Japanese face in China. It is tremendously slow progress. The IJA are finding it difficult to encircle and capture Soviet forces who have prepared a series of rear lines to keep falling back to while performing counterattacks against Japanese columns. As the Japanese advance further into the interior, the IJN are unable to continue supporting them with aircraft and much of the IJA aircraft are limited in operations because of the range. The second phase of Kantokuen calls for the capture of Khabarovsk, Komsomolsk, Skovorodino, Sovetskaya Gavan, and Nikolayevsk. Additionally, amphibious operations against Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky and other parts of the Kamchatka Peninsula are on standby as the IJN fears risking shipping as a result of Soviet submarine operations. The sheer scope of the operation was seeing the tide sides stretching their forces over a front nearly 5000 km in length. At some points the Japanese were attempting to advance more than 1000 km's inland, wasting ungodly amounts of fuel and losing vehicles from wear and tear.  So what does Japan gain? Within the span of 4 months, max 6 months Japan could perhaps seized: Sakhalin, the Primorsye krai including Vladivostok, segments of the trans siberian railway, Blagoveshchensk, Kuibyshevka. If they are really lucky Khabarovsk, Komsomolsk, Skovorodino, Sovetskaya Gavan, Nikolayevsk. Additionally, Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky and other parts of the Kamchatka Peninsula. What does this mean? Really nothing. Pull out a map of manchuria during WW2, take a pencil and expand the manchurian border perhaps 1000 km if you really want to be generous, that's the new extent of the empire of the rising sun. The real purpose of attacking the USSR is not to perform some ludicrous dash across 6000 km's of frozen wasteland to whittle down and defeat the Soviets alongside the rest of the Axis. It was only to break them, in late 1941 at Moscow there was perhaps a fools chance, but it was a fool's chance for Japan.  Japan has run out of its stockpiles of Kaisenbun, oil, iron, rubber, tin, all types of resources necessary for making war. Unlike in our timeline where Japan began exporting resources from its conquests in southeast asia and the pacific, here Japan spent everything and now is relying on the trickles it has within its empire. The China war will be much more difficult to manage. The lend-lease will increase every day to China. The US/UK/Netherlands will only increase pressure upon Japan to stop being a nuisance, Japan can't do anything about this as the US Pacific Fleet is operating around the Philippines always a looming threat. The Japanese are holding for a lack of better words, useless ground in the far east. They will build a buffer area to defend against what can only be described as a Soviet Invasion of Manchuria x1000. The Allies will be directing all of their effort against Germany and Italy, providing a interesting alternate history concept in its own right. After Germany has been dealt with, Japan would face a existential threat against a very angry Stalin. Cody from Alternate History Hub actually made an episode on this scenario, he believed the Soviets would conquer most of Japan occupied Asia and even invade the home islands. It would certainly be something on the table, taking many years, but the US/UK would most likely interfere in some way. The outcome would be so much worse for Japan. Perhaps she is occupied and a communist government is installed. Perhaps like in our timeline the Americans come in to bolster Japan up for the looming coldwar.  But the question I sought to answer here was, Japan invading the USSR was a dumb idea. The few Japanese commanders who pushed it all the way until August 9th of 1941 simply had to give up because of how illogical it was. I honestly should not have even talked about military matters, this all came down to logistics and resources. You want to know how Japan could have secured itself a better deal in WW2? 1941, the China War is the number one problem Japan can't solve so they look north or south to acquire the means to solve the China problem? Negotiate a peace with China. That is the lackluster best deal right there.    Sorry if this episode did not match your wildest dreams. But if you want me to do some batshit crazy alternate history stuff, I am more than happy to jump into it and have fun. Again thank all of you guys who joined the patreon, you guys are awesome. Until next time this is the Pacific War channel over and out. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Last time we spoke about the continuation of the war after Nanjing's fall. The fall of Nanjing in December 1937 marked a pivotal juncture in the Second Sino-Japanese War, ushering in a brutal phase of attrition that shaped both strategy and diplomacy in early 1938. As Japanese forces sought to restructure China's political order, their strategy extended beyond battlefield victories to the establishment of puppet arrangements and coercive diplomacy. Soviet aid provided critical support, while German and broader Axis diplomacy wavered, shaping a nuanced backdrop for China's options. In response, Chinese command decisions focused on defending crucial rail corridors and urban strongholds, with Wuhan emerging as a strategic hub and the Jinpu and Longhai railways becoming lifelines of resistance. The defense around Xuzhou and the Huai River system illustrated Chinese determination to prolong resistance despite daunting odds. By early 1938, the war appeared as a drawn-out struggle, with China conserving core bases even as Japan pressed toward central China.   #170 The Battle of Taierzhuang 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. Following their victory at Nanjing, the Japanese North China Area Army sought to push southward and link up with the Japanese Eleventh Army between Beijing and Nanjing. The two formations were intended to advance along the northern and southern ends of the JinPu railway, meet at Xuzhou, and then coordinate a pincer movement into Chinese strongholds in the Central Yangtze region, capturing Jiujiang first and then Wuhan. Recognizing Xuzhou's strategic importance, Chinese leadership made its defense a top priority. Xuzhou stood at the midpoint of the JinPu line and at the intersection with the Longhai Line, China's main east–west corridor from Lanzhou to Lianyungang. If seized, Japanese control of these routes would grant mobility for north–south movement across central China. At the end of January, Chiang Kai-shek convened a military conference in Wuchang and declared the defense of Xuzhou the highest strategic objective. Chinese preparations expanded from an initial core of 80,000 troops to about 300,000, deployed along the JinPu and Longhai lines to draw in and overstretch Japanese offensives. A frightening reality loomed by late March 1938: the Japanese were nearing victory on the Xuzhou front. The North China Area Army, led by Generals Itagaki Seishirô, Nishio Toshizô, and Isogai Rensuke, aimed to link up with the Central China Expeditionary Force under General Hata Shunroku for a coordinated drive into central China. Li Zongren and his senior colleagues, including Generals Bai Chongxi and Tang Enbo, resolved to meet the Japanese at the traditional stone-walled city of Taierzhuang. Taierzhuang was not large, but it held strategic significance. It sat along the Grand Canal, China's major north–south waterway, and on a rail line that connected the Jinpu and Longhai lines, thus bypassing Xuzhou. Chiang Kai-shek himself visited Xuzhou on March 24. While Xuzhou remained in Chinese hands, the Japanese forces to the north and south were still separated. Losing Xuzhou would close the pincer. By late March, Chinese troops seemed to be gaining ground at Taierzhuang, but the Japanese began reinforcing, pulling soldiers from General Isogai Rensuke's column. The defending commanders grew uncertain about their ability to hold the position, yet Chiang Kai-shek made his stance clear in an April 1, 1938 telegram: “the enemy at Taierzhuang must be destroyed.” Chiang Kai-shek dispatched his Vice Chief of Staff, Bai Chongxi, to Xuzhou in January 1938. Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi were old comrades from the New Guangxi Clique, and their collaboration dated back to the Northern Expedition, including the Battle of Longtan. Li also received the 21st Group Army from the 3rd War Area. This Guangxi unit, commanded by Liao Lei, comprised the 7th and 47th Armies. Around the same time, Sun Zhen's 22nd Group Army, another Sichuan clique unit, arrived in the Shanxi-Henan region, but was rebuffed by both Yan Xishan, then commander of the 2nd War Area and Shanxi's chairman and Cheng Qian, commander of the 1st War Area and Henan's chairman. Yan and Cheng harbored strong reservations about Sichuan units due to discipline issues, notably their rampant opium consumption. Under Sun Zhen's leadership, the 22nd Group Army deployed four of its six divisions to aid the Northern China effort. Organized under the 41st and 45th Armies, the contingent began a foot march toward Taiyuan on September 1, covering more than 50 days and approximately 1,400 kilometers. Upon reaching Shanxi, they faced a harsh, icy winter and had no winter uniforms or even a single map of the province. They nevertheless engaged the Japanese for ten days at Yangquan, suffering heavy casualties. Strapped for supplies, they broke into a Shanxi clique supply depot, which enraged Yan Xishan and led to their expulsion from the province. The 22nd withdrew westward into the 1st War Area, only to have its request for resupply rejected by Cheng Qian. Meanwhile to the south Colonel Rippei Ogisu led Japanese 13th Division to push westward from Nanjing in two columns during early February: the northern column targeted Mingguang, while the southern column aimed for Chuxian. Both routes were checked by Wei Yunsong's 31st Army, which had been assigned to defend the southern stretch of the Jinpu railway under Li Zongren. Despite facing a clearly inferior force, the Japanese could not gain ground after more than a month of sustained attacks. In response, Japan deployed armored and artillery reinforcements from Nanjing. The Chinese withdrew to the southwestern outskirts of Dingyuan to avoid a direct clash with their reinforced adversaries. By this point, Yu Xuezhong's 51st Army had taken up a defensive position on the northern banks of the Huai River, establishing a line between Bengbu and Huaiyuan. The Japanese then captured Mingguang, Dingyuan, and Bengbu in succession and pressed toward Huaiyuan. However, their supply lines were intercepted by the Chinese 31st Corps, which conducted flanking attacks from the southwest. The situation worsened when the Chinese 7th Army, commanded by Liao Lei, arrived at Hefei to reinforce the 31st Army. Facing three Chinese corps simultaneously, the Japanese were effectively boxed south of the Huai River and, despite air superiority and a superior overall firepower, could not advance further. As a result, the Chinese thwarted the Japanese plan to move the 13th Division north along the Jinpu railway and link up with the Isogai 10th Division to execute a pincer against Xuzhou. Meanwhile in the north, after amphibious landings at Qingdao, the Japanese 5th Division, commanded by Seishiro Itagaki, advanced southwest along the Taiwei Highway, spearheaded by its 21st Infantry Brigade. They faced Pang Bingxun's 3rd Group Army. Although labeled a Group Army, Pang's force actually comprised only the 40th Army, which itself consisted of the 39th Division from the Northwestern Army, commanded by Ma-Fawu. The 39th Division's five regiments delayed the Japanese advance toward Linyi for over a month. The Japanese captured Ju County on 22 February and moved toward Linyi by 2 March. The 59th Army, commanded by Zhang Zizhong, led its troops on a forced march day and night toward Linyi. Seizing the opportunity, the 59th Army did not rest after reaching Yishui. In the early morning of the 14th, Zhang Zizhong ordered the entire army to covertly cross the Yishui River and attack the right flank of the Japanese “Iron Army” 5th Division. They broke through enemy defenses at Tingzitou, Dataiping, Shenjia Taiping, Xujia Taiping, and Shalingzi. Initially caught off guard, the enemy sustained heavy losses, and over a night more than a thousand Japanese soldiers were annihilated. The 59th Army fought fiercely, engaging in brutal hand-to-hand combat. By 4:00 a.m. on the 17th, the 59th Army had secured all of the Japanese main positions. That same day, Pang Bingxun seized the moment to lead his troops in a fierce flank attack, effectively supporting the 59th Army's frontal assault. On the 18th, Zhang and Pang's forces attacked the Japanese from the east, south, and west. After three days and nights of bloody fighting, they finally defeated the 3rd Battalion of the 11th Regiment, which had crossed the river, and annihilated most of it. The 59th Army completed its counterattack but suffered over 6,000 casualties, with more than 2,000 Japanese killed or wounded. News of the Linyi victory prompted commendations from Chiang Kai-shek and Li Zongren. General Li Zongren, commander of the 5th War Zone, judged that the Japanese were temporarily unable to mount a large-scale offensive and that Linyi could be held for the time being. On March 20, he ordered the 59th Army westward to block the Japanese Seya Detachment. On March 21, the Japanese Sakamoto Detachment, after a brief reorganization and learning of the Linyi detachment, launched another offensive. The 3rd Corps, understrength and without reinforcements, was compelled to retreat steadily before the Japanese. General Pang Bingxun, commander of the 3rd Corps, urgently telegraphed Chiang Kai-shek, requesting reinforcements. Chiang Kai-shek received the telegram and, at approximately 9:00 AM on the 23rd, ordered the 59th Army to return to Linyi to join with the 3rd Corps in repelling the Sakamoto Detachment. Fierce fighting ensued with heavy Chinese losses, and the situation in Linyi again grew precarious. At a critical moment, the 333rd Brigade of the 111th Division and the Cavalry Regiment of the 13th Army were rushed to reinforce Linyi. Facing attacks from two directions, the Japanese withdrew, losing almost two battalions in the process. This engagement shattered the myth of Japanese invincibility and embarrassed commander Seishirō Itagaki, even startling IJA headquarters. Although the 5th Division later regrouped and attempted another push, it had lost the element of surprise. The defeat at Linyi at the hands of comparatively poorly equipped Chinese regional units set the stage for the eventual battle at Tai'erzhuang. Of the three Japanese divisions advancing into the Chinese 5th War Area, the 10th Division, commanded by Rensuke Isogai, achieved the greatest initial success. Departing from Hebei, it crossed the Yellow River and moved south along the Jinpu railway. With KMT General Han Fuju ordering his forces to desert their posts, the Japanese captured Zhoucun and reached Jinan with little resistance. They then pushed south along two columns from Tai'an. The eastern column captured Mengyin before driving west to seize Sishui; the western column moved southwest along the Jinpu railway, capturing Yanzhou, Zouxian, and Jining, before turning northwest to take Wenshang. Chiang Kai-shek subsequently ordered Li Zongren to employ “offensive defense”, seizing the initiative to strike rather than merely defend. Li deployed Sun Zhen's 22nd Group Army to attack Zouxian from the south, while Pang Bingxun's 40th Division advanced north along the 22nd's left flank to strike Mengyin and Sishui. Sun Tongxuan's 3rd Group Army also advanced from the south, delivering a two-pronged assault on the Japanese at Jining. Fierce fighting from 12 to 25 February, particularly by the 12th Corps, helped mitigate the reputational damage previously inflicted on Shandong units by Han Fuju. In response to Chinese counterattacks, the Japanese revised their strategy: they canceled their original plan to push directly westward from Nanjing toward Wuhan, freeing more troops for the push toward Xuzhou. On March 15, the Japanese 10th Division struck the Chinese 122nd Division, focusing the action around Tengxian and Lincheng. Chinese reinforcements from the 85th Corps arrived the following day but were driven back on March 17. With air support, tanks, and heavy artillery, the Japanese breached the Chinese lines on March 18. The remaining Chinese forces, bolstered by the 52nd Corps, withdrew to the town of Yixian. The Japanese attacked Yixian and overran an entire Chinese regiment in a brutal 24-hour engagement. By March 19, the Japanese began advancing on the walled town of Taierzhuang. To counter the Japanese advance, the Chinese 2nd Army Group under General Sun Lianzhong was deployed to Taierzhuang. The 31st Division, commanded by General Chi Fengcheng, reached Taierzhuang on March 22 and was ordered to delay the Japanese advance until the remainder of the Army Group could arrive. On March 23, the 31st Division sallied from Taierzhuang toward Yixian, where they were engaged by two Japanese battalions reinforced with three tanks and four armored cars. The Chinese troops occupied a series of hills and managed to defend against a Japanese regiment (~3,000 men) for the rest of the day. On March 24, a Japanese force of about 5,000 attacked the 31st Division. Another Japanese unit pressed the Chinese from Yixian, forcing them to withdraw back into Taierzhuang itself. The Japanese then assaulted the town, with a 300-strong contingent breaching the northeast gate at 20:00. They were subsequently driven back toward the Chenghuang temple, which the Chinese set on fire, annihilating the Japanese force. The next day, the Japanese renewed the assault through the breached gate and secured the eastern portion of the district, while also breaking through the northwest corner from the outside and capturing the Wenchang Pavilion. On March 25, a morning Japanese onslaught was repelled. The Japanese then shelled Chinese positions with artillery and air strikes. In the afternoon, the Chinese deployed an armored train toward Yixian, which ambushed a column of Japanese soldiers near a hamlet, killing or wounding several dozen before retreating back to Taierzhuang. By nightfall, three thousand Chinese troops launched a night assault, pushing the Japanese lines northeast to dawn. The following three days subjected the Chinese defenders to sustained aerial and artillery bombardment. The Chinese managed to repulse several successive Japanese assaults but sustained thousands of casualties in the process. On March 28, Chinese artillery support arrived, including two 155 mm and ten 75 mm pieces. On the night of March 29, the Japanese finally breached the wall. Setting out from the district's southern outskirts, a Chinese assault squad stormed the Wenchang Pavilion from the south and east, killing nearly the entire Japanese garrison aside from four taken as prisoners of war. The Chinese then retook the northwest corner of the district. Even by the brutal standards already established in the war, the fighting at Taierzhuang was fierce, with combatants facing one another at close quarters. Sheng Cheng's notes preserve the battlefield memories of Chi Fengcheng, one of the campaign's standout officers “We had a battle for the little lanes [of the town], and unprecedentedly, not just streets and lanes, but even courtyards and houses. Neither side was willing to budge. Sometimes we'd capture a house, and dig a hole in the wall to approach the enemy. Sometimes the enemy would be digging a hole in the same wall at the same time. Sometimes we faced each other with hand grenades — or we might even bite each other. Or when we could hear that the enemy was in the house, then we'd climb the roof and drop bombs inside — and kill them all.” The battle raged for a week. On April 1, General Chi requested volunteers for a near-suicide mission to seize a building: among fifty-seven selected, only ten survived. A single soldier claimed to have fired on a Japanese bomber and succeeded in bringing it down; he and his comrades then set the aircraft ablaze before another plane could arrive to rescue the pilot. One participant described the brutal conditions of the battle “"The battle continued day and night. The flames lit up the sky. Often all that separated our forces was a single wall. The soldiers would beat holes in the masonry to snipe at each other. We would be fighting for days over a single building, causing dozens of fatalities." The conditions were so brutal that Chinese officers imposed severe measures to maintain discipline. Junior officers were repeatedly forbidden to retreat and were often ordered to personally replace casualties within their ranks. Li Zongren even warned Tang Enbo that failure to fulfill his duties would lead him to be “treated as Han Fuju had been.” In Taierzhuang's cramped streets, Japan's artillery and air superiority offered little advantage; whenever either service was employed amid the dense melee, casualties were roughly even on both sides. The fighting devolved into close-quarters combat carried out primarily by infantry, with rifles, pistols, hand grenades, bayonets, and knives forming the core of each side's arsenal. The battle unfolded largely hand-to-hand, frequently in darkness. The stone buildings of Taierzhuang provided substantial cover from fire and shrapnel. It was precisely under these close-quarters conditions that Chinese soldiers could stand as equals, if not superior, to their Japanese opponents, mirroring, in some respects, the experiences seen in Luodian, Shanghai, the year before. On March 31, General Sun Lianzhong arrived to assume command of the 2nd Army Group. A Japanese assault later that day was repulsed, but a Chinese counterattack also stalled. At 04:00 on April 1, the Japanese attacked the Chinese lines with support from 11 tanks. The Chinese defenders, armed with German-made 37mm Pak-36 antitank guns, destroyed eight of the armored vehicles at point-blank range. Similar incidents recurred throughout the battle, with numerous Japanese tanks knocked out by Chinese artillery and by suicide squads. In one engagement, Chinese suicide bombers annihilated four Japanese tanks with bundles of grenades. On April 2 and 3, Chi urged the Chinese defenders around Taierzhuang's north station to assess the evolving situation. The troops reported distress, crying and sneezing, caused by tear gas deployed by the Japanese against Chinese positions at Taierzhuang's north station, but the defenders remained unmoved. They then launched a massive armored assault outside the city walls, with 30 tanks and 60 armored cars, yet managed only to drive the Chinese 27th Division back to the Grand Canal. The fighting continued to rage on April 4 and 5. By then, the Japanese had captured roughly two-thirds of Taierzhuang, though the Chinese still held the South Gate. It was through this entry point that the Chinese command managed to keep their troops supplied. The Chinese also thwarted Japanese efforts to replenish their dwindling stocks of arms and ammunition. In consequence, the Japanese attackers were worn down progressively. Although the Japanese possessed superior firepower, including cannon and heavy artillery, the cramped conditions within Taierzhuang nullified this advantage for the moment. The Chinese command succeeded in keeping their own supplies flowing, a recurring weakness in other engagements and also prevented the Japanese from replenishing their dwindling stock of arms and bullets. Gradually, the Japanese maneuvered into a state of attrition. The deadlock of the battle was broken by events unfolding outside Taierzhuang, where fresh Chinese divisions had encircled the Japanese forces in Taierzhuang from the flanks and rear. After consulting their German advisors earlier, the commanders of the 5th War Area prepared a double envelopment of the exposed Japanese forces in Taierzhuang. Between March and April 1938, the Nationalist Air Force deployed squadrons from the 3rd and 4th Pursuit Groups, fighter-attack aircraft, in long-distance air interdiction and close-air support of the Taierzhuang operations. Approximately 30 aircraft, mostly Soviet-made, were deployed in bombing raids against Japanese positions. On 26 March, Tang Enbo's 20th Army, equipped with artillery units, attacked Japanese forces at Yixian, inflicting heavy casualties and routing the survivors. Tang then swung south to strike the Japanese flank northeast of Taierzhuang. Simultaneously, the Chinese 55th Corps, comprised of two divisions, executed a surprise crossing of the Grand Canal and cut the railway line near Lincheng. As a result, Tang isolated the Japanese attackers from their rear and severed their supply lines. On 1 April, the Japanese 5th Division sent a brigade to relieve the encircled 10th Division. Tang countered by blocking the brigade's advance and then attacking from the rear, driving them south into the encirclement. On 3 April, the Chinese 2nd Group Army launched a counter-offensive, with the 30th and 110th Divisions pushing northward into Beiluo and Nigou, respectively. By 6 April, the Chinese 85th and 52nd Armies linked up at Taodun, just west of Lanling. The combined force then advanced north-westward, capturing Ganlugou. Two more Chinese divisions arrived a few days later. By April 5, Taierzhuang's Japanese units were fully surrounded, with seven Chinese divisions to the north and four to the south closing in. The Japanese divisions inside Taierzhuang had exhausted their supplies, running critically low on ammunition, fuel, and food, while many troops endured fatigue and dehydration after more than a week of brutal fighting. Sensing imminent victory, the Chinese forces surged with renewed fury and attacked the encircled Japanese, executing wounded soldiers where they lay with rifle and pistol shots. Chinese troops also deployed Soviet tanks against the defenders. Japanese artillery could not reply effectively due to a shortage of shells, and their tanks were immobilized by a lack of fuel. Attempts to drop supplies by air failed, with most packages falling into Chinese hands. Over time, Japanese infantry were progressively reduced to firing only their machine guns and mortars, then their rifles and machine guns, and ultimately resorted to bayonet charges. With the success of the Chinese counter-attacks, the Japanese line finally collapsed on April 7. The 10th and 5th Divisions, drained of personnel and ammunition, were forced to retreat. By this point, around 2,000 Japanese soldiers managed to break out of Taierzhuang, leaving thousands of their comrades dead behind. Some of the escapees reportedly committed hara-kiri. Chinese casualties were roughly comparable, marking a significant improvement over the heavier losses suffered in Shanghai and Nanjing. The Japanese had lost the battle for numerous reasons. Japanese efforts were hampered by the "offensive-defensive" operations carried out by various Chinese regional units, effectively preventing the three Japanese divisions from ever linking up with each other. Despite repeated use of heavy artillery, air strikes, and gas, the Japanese could not expel the Chinese 2nd Group Army from Taierzhuang and its surrounding areas, even as the defenders risked total annihilation. The Japanese also failed to block the Chinese 20th Group Army's maneuver around their rear positions, which severed retreat routes and enabled a Chinese counter-encirclement. After Han Fuju's insubordination and subsequent execution, the Chinese high command tightened discipline at the top, transmitting a stringent order flow down to the ranks. This atmosphere of strict discipline inspired even junior soldiers to risk their lives in executing orders. A “dare-to-die corps” was effectively employed against Japanese units. They used swords and wore suicide vests fashioned from grenades. Due to a lack of anti-armor weaponry, suicide bombing was also employed against the Japanese. Chinese troops, as part of the “dare-to-die” corps, strapped explosives such as grenade packs or dynamite to their bodies and charged at Japanese tanks to blow them up.  The Chinese later asserted that about 20,000 Japanese had perished, though the actual toll was likely closer to 8,000. The Japanese also sustained heavy material losses. Because of fuel shortages and their rapid retreat, many tanks, trucks, and artillery pieces were abandoned on the battlefield and subsequently captured by Chinese forces. Frank Dorn recorded losses of 40 tanks, over 70 armored cars, and 100 trucks of various sizes. In addition to vehicles, the Japanese lost dozens of artillery pieces and thousands of machine guns and rifles. Many of these weapons were collected by the Chinese for future use. The Chinese side also endured severe casualties, possibly up to 30,000, with Taierzhuang itself nearly razed. Yet for once, the Chinese achieved a decisive victory, sparking an outburst of joy across unoccupied China. Du Zhongyuan wrote of “the glorious killing of the enemy,” and even Katharine Hand, though isolated in Japanese-controlled Shandong, heard the news. The victory delivered a much-needed morale boost to both the army and the broader population. Sheng Cheng recorded evening conversations with soldiers from General Chi Fengcheng's division, who shared light-hearted banter with their senior officer. At one moment, the men recalled Chi as having given them “the secret of war. when you get food, eat it; when you can sleep, take it.” Such familiar, brisk maxims carried extra resonance now that the Nationalist forces had demonstrated their willingness and ability to stand their ground rather than retreat. The victors may have celebrated a glorious victory, but they did not forget that their enemies were human. Chi recalled a scene he encountered: he had picked up a Japanese officer's helmet, its left side scorched by gunpowder, with a trace of blood, the mark of a fatal wound taken from behind. Elsewhere in Taierzhuang, relics of the fallen were found: images of the Buddha, wooden fish, and flags bearing slogans. A makeshift crematorium in the north station had been interrupted mid-process: “Not all the bones had been completely burned.” After the battle, Li Zongren asked Sheng if he had found souvenirs on the battlefield. Sheng replied that he had discovered love letters on the corpses of Japanese soldiers, as well as a photograph of a girl, perhaps a hometown sweetheart labeled “19 years old, February 1938.” These details stood in stark contrast to news coverage that depicted the Japanese solely as demons, devils, and “dwarf bandits.” The foreign community noted the new, optimistic turn of events and the way it seemed to revive the resistance effort. US ambassador Nelson Johnson wrote to Secretary of State Cordell Hull from Wuhan just days after Taierzhuang, passing on reports from American military observers: one had spent time in Shanxi and been impressed by Communist success in mobilizing guerrilla fighters against the Japanese; another had spent three days observing the fighting at Taierzhuang and confirmed that “Chinese troops in the field there won a well-deserved victory over Japanese troops, administering the first defeat that Japanese troops have suffered in the field in modern times.” This reinforced Johnson's view that Japan would need to apply far more force than it had anticipated to pacify China. He noted that the mood in unoccupied China had likewise shifted. “Conditions here at Hankow have changed from an atmosphere of pessimism to one of dogged optimism. The Government is more united under Chiang and there is a feeling that the future is not entirely hopeless due to the recent failure of Japanese arms at Hsuchow [Xuzhou] . . . I find no evidence for a desire for a peace by compromise among  Chinese, and doubt whether the Government could persuade its army or its people to accept such a peace. The spirit of resistance is slowly spreading among the people who are awakening to a feeling that this is their war. Japanese air raids in the interior and atrocities by Japanese soldiers upon civilian populations are responsible for this stiffening of the people.”. The British had long been wary of Chiang Kai-shek, but Sir Archibald Clark Kerr, the British ambassador in China, wrote to the new British foreign secretary, Lord Halifax, on April 29, 1938, shortly after the Taierzhuang victory, and offered grudging credit to China's leader “[Chiang] has now become the symbol of Chinese unity, which he himself has so far failed to achieve, but which the Japanese are well on the way to achieving for him . . . The days when Chinese people did not care who governed them seem to have gone . . . my visit to Central China from out of the gloom and depression of Shanghai has left me stimulated and more than disposed to believe that provided the financial end can be kept up Chinese resistance may be so prolonged and effective that in the end the Japanese effort may be frustrated . . . Chiang Kai-shek is obstinate and difficult to deal with . . . Nonetheless [the Nationalists] are making in their muddlIn the exhilaration of a rare victory”. Chiang pressured Tang and Li to build on their success, increasing the area's troop strength to about 450,000. Yet the Chinese Army remained plagued by deeper structural issues. The parochialism that had repeatedly hampered Chiang's forces over the past six months resurfaced. Although the various generals had agreed to unite in a broader war of resistance, each prioritized the safety of his own troops, wary of any move by Chiang to centralize power. For example, Li Zongren refrained from utilizing his top Guangxi forces at Taierzhuang, attempting to shift the bulk of the fighting onto Tang Enbo's units. The generals were aware of the fates of two colleagues: Han Fuju of Shandong was executed for his refusal to fight, while Zhang Xueliang of Manchuria had allowed Chiang to reduce the size of his northeastern army and ended up under house arrest. They were justified in distrusting Chiang. He truly believed, after all, that provincial armies should come under a national military command led by himself. From a national-unity standpoint, Chiang's aim was not unreasonable. But it bred suspicion among other military leaders that participation in the anti-Japanese war would erode their own power. The fragmented command structure also hindered logistics, making ammunition and food supplies to the front unreliable and easy to cut off a good job of things in extremely difficult circumstances. 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 Chinese victory at the battle of Tairzhuang was a much needed morale boost after the long string of defeats to Japan. As incredible as it was however, it would amount to merely a bloody nose for the Imperial Japanese Army. Now Japan would unleash even more devastation to secure Xuzhou and ultimately march upon Wuhan.

Last time we spoke about the Nanjing Massacre. Japanese forces breached Nanjing as Chinese defenders retreated under heavy bombardment, and the city fell on December 13. In the following weeks, civilians and disarmed soldiers endured systematic slaughter, mass executions, rapes, looting, and arson, with casualties mounting rapidly. Among the most brutal episodes were hundreds of executions near the Safety Zone, mass shootings along the Yangtze River, and killings at improvised sites and “killing fields.” The massacre involved tens of thousands of prisoners, with estimates up to 300,000 victims. Women and children were subjected to widespread rape, mutilation, and terror intended to crush morale and resistance. Although the Safety Zone saved many lives, it could not shield all refugees from harm, and looting and arson devastated large parts of the city. Foreign witnesses, missionaries, and diary entries documented the extensive brutality and the apparent premeditated nature of many acts, noting the collapse of discipline among troops and orders that shaped the violence.    #169 Nanjing has Fallen, the War is not Over 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. Directly after the fall of Nanjing, rumors circulated among the city's foreigners that Tang Shengzhi had been executed for his inability to hold the city against the Japanese onslaught. In fact, unlike many of his subordinates who fought in the defense, he survived. On December 12, he slipped through Yijiang Gate, where bullets from the 36th Division had claimed numerous victims, and sailed across the Yangtze to safety. Chiang Kai-shek protected him from bearing direct consequences for Nanjing's collapse. Tang was not unscathed, however. After the conquest of Nanjing, a dejected Tang met General Li Zongren at Xuzhou Railway Station. In a brief 20-minute conversation, Tang lamented, “Sir, Nanjing's fall has been unexpectedly rapid. How can I face the world?” Li, who had previously taunted Tang for over-eagerness, offered sympathy. “Don't be discouraged. Victory or defeat comes every day for the soldier. Our war of resistance is a long-term proposition. The loss of one city is not decisive.” By December 1937, the outlook for Chiang Kai-shek's regime remained bleak. Despite his public pledges, he had failed to defend the capital. Its sturdy walls, which had withstood earlier sieges, were breached in less than 100 hours. Foreign observers remained pessimistic about the prospects of continuing the fight against Japan. The New York Times wrote “The capture of Nanking was the most overwhelming defeat suffered by the Chinese and one of the most tragic military debacles in modern warfare. In defending Nanking, the Chinese allowed themselves to be surrounded and then slaughtered… The graveyard of tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers may also be the graveyard of all Chinese hopes of resisting conquest by Japan.” Foreign diplomats doubted Chiang's ability to sustain the war, shrinking the question to whether he would stubbornly continue a losing fight or seek peace. US Ambassador Nelson Johnson wrote in a letter to Admiral Yarnell, then commander of the US Asicatic Fleet “There is little left now for the Chinese to do except to carry on a desultory warfare in the country, or to negotiate for the best terms they can get”.  The Japanese, too, acted as if Chiang Kai-shek had already lost the war. They assumed the generalissimo was a spent force in Chinese politics as well, and that a gentle push would suffice to topple his regime like a house of cards. On December 14, Prime Minister Konoe announced that Chiang's losses of Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai, and now Nanjing, had created a new situation. “The National Government has become but a shadow of its former self. If a new Chinese regime emerged to replace Chiang's government, Japan would deal with it, provided it is a regime headed in the right direction.” Konoe spoke the same day as a Liaison Conference in Tokyo, where civilian and military leaders debated how to treat China now that it had been thoroughly beaten on the battlefield. Japanese demands had grown significantly: beyond recognizing Manchukuo, Japan pressed for the creation of pro-Japanese regimes in Inner Mongolia and the north China area. The same day, a puppet government was established in Japanese-occupied Beijing. While these demands aimed to end China as a unitary state, Japanese policy was moving toward the same goal. The transmissions of these demands via German diplomatic channels caused shock and consternation in Chinese government circles, and the Chinese engaged in what many regarded as stalling tactics. Even at this late stage, there was division among Japan's top decision makers. Tada, deputy chief of the Army General Staff, feared a protracted war in China and urged keeping negotiations alive. He faced strong opposition from the cabinet, including the foreign minister and the ministers of the army and navy, and ultimately he relented. Tada stated “In this state of emergency, it is necessary to avoid any political upheaval that might arise from a struggle between the Cabinet and the Army General Staff.” Although he disagreed, he no longer challenged the uncompromising stance toward China. On January 16, 1938, Japan publicly stated that it would “cease henceforth to deal with” Chiang Kai-shek. This was a line that could not be uncrossed. War was the only option. Germany, the mediator between China and Japan, also considered Chiang a losing bet. In late January 1938, von Dirksen, the German ambassador in Tokyo, urged a fundamental shift in German diplomacy and advocated abandoning China in favor of Japan. He warned that this was a matter of urgency, since Japan harbored grudges against Germany for its half-hearted peace efforts. In a report, von Dirksen wrote that Japan, “in her deep ill humor, will confront us with unpleasant decisions at an inopportune moment.” Von Dirksen's view carried the day in Berlin. Nazi Germany and Hirohito's Japan were on a trajectory that, within three years, would forge the Axis and place Berlin and Tokyo in the same camp in a conflict that would eventually span the globe. Rabe, who returned to Germany in 1938, found that his account of Japanese atrocities in Nanjing largely fell on deaf ears. He was even visited by the Gestapo, which apparently pressed him to keep quiet about what he had seen. Ambassador von Dirksen also argued in his January 1938 report that China should be abandoned because of its increasingly friendly ties with the Soviet Union. There was some merit to this claim. Soviet aid to China was substantial: by the end of 1937, 450 Soviet aviators were serving in China. Without them, Japan likely would have enjoyed air superiority. Chiang Kai-shek, it seemed, did not fully understand the Russians' motives. They were supplying aircraft and pilots to keep China in the war while keeping themselves out. After Nanjing's fall, Chiang nevertheless reached out to Joseph Stalin, inviting direct Soviet participation in the war. Stalin politely declined, noting that if the Soviet Union joined the conflict, “the world would say the Soviet Union was an aggressor, and sympathy for Japan around the world would immediately increase.” In a rare moment of candor a few months later, the Soviet deputy commissar for foreign affairs spoke with the French ambassador, describing the situation in China as “splendid.” He expected China to continue fighting for several more years, after which Japan would be too weakened to undertake major operations against the Soviet Union. It was clear that China was being used. Whatever the motive, China was receiving vital help from Stalin's Russia while the rest of the world stood on the sidelines, reluctant to upset Japan. Until Operation Barbarossa, when the Soviet Union was forced to the brink by the German Army and could no longer sustain extensive overseas aid, it supplied China with 904 planes, 1,516 trucks, 1,140 artillery pieces, 9,720 machine guns, 50,000 rifles, 31,600 bombs, and more. Despite all of this, all in all, China's position proved less disastrous than many observers had feared. Chinese officials later argued that the battle of Nanjing was not the unmitigated fiasco it appeared to be. Tang Shengzhi had this to say in his memoirs“I think the main purpose of defending Nanjing was to buy time, to allow troops that had just been pulled out of battle to rest and regroup. It wasn't simply because it was the capital or the site of Sun Yat-sen's mausoleum.” Tan Daoping, an officer in Nanjing, described the battle “as a moderate success because it drew the Japanese in land”. This of course was a strategy anticipated by interwar military thinker Jiang Baili. It also allowed dozens of Chinese divisions to escape Shanghai, since the Japanese forces that could have pursued them were tied down with the task of taking Nanjing. Tan Daoping wrote after the war “They erred in believing they could wage a quick war and decide victory immediately. Instead, their dream was shattered; parts of their forces were worn out, and they were hindered from achieving a swift end”. Even so, it was a steep price was paid in Chinese lives. As in Shanghai, the commanders in Nanjing thought they could fight on the basis of sheer willpower. Chinese officer Qin Guo Qi wrote in his memoirs “In modern war, you can't just rely on the spirit of the troops. You can't merely rely on physical courage and stamina. The battle of Nanjing explains that better than anything”. As for the Brigade commander of the 87th division, Chen Yiding, who emerged from Nanjing with only a few hundred survivors, was enraged. “During the five days of the battle for Nanjing, my superiors didn't see me even once. They didn't do their duty. They also did not explain the overall deployments in the Nanjing area. What's worse, they didn't give us any order to retreat. And afterwards I didn't hear of any commander being disciplined for failing to do his job.” Now back in November of 1937, Chiang Kai-shek had moved his command to the great trinity of Wuhan. For the Nationalists, Wuhan was a symbolically potent stronghold: three municipalities in one, Hankou, Wuchang, and Hanyang. They had all grown prosperous as gateways between coastal China and the interior. But the autumn disasters of 1937 thrust Wuhan into new prominence, and, a decade after it had ceased to be the temporary capital, it again became the seat of military command and resistance. Leading Nationalist politicians had been seen in the city in the months before the war, fueling suspicions that Wuhan would play a major role in any imminent conflict. By the end of the year, the generals and their staffs, along with most of the foreign embassies, had moved upriver. Yet as 1937 slipped into 1938, the Japanese advance seemed practically unstoppable. From the destruction of Shanghai, to the massacre in Nanjing, to the growing vulnerability of Wuhan, the NRA government appeared powerless against the onslaught.  Now the Japanese government faced several options: expanding the scope of the war to force China into submission, which would risk further depletion of Japan's military and economic resources; establishing an alternative regime in China as a bridge for reconciliation, thereby bypassing the Nationalist government for negotiations; and engaging in indirect or direct peace negotiations with the Nationalist Government, despite the failure of previous attempts, while still seeking new opportunities for negotiation. However, the Nanjing massacre did not compel the Chinese government and its people to submit. On January 2, Chiang Kai-shek wrote in his diary, “The conditions proposed by Japan are equivalent to the conquest and extinction of our country. Rather than submitting and perishing, it is better to perish in defeat,” choosing to refuse negotiations and continue resistance.  In January 1938 there was a new escalation of hostilities. Up to that point, Japan had not officially declared war, even during the Shanghai campaign and the Nanjing massacre. However on January 11, an Imperial Conference was held in Tokyo in the presence of Emperor Hirohito. Prime Minister Konoe outlined a “Fundamental Policy to deal with the China Incident.”The Imperial Conference was attended by Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe, Army Chief of Staff Prince Kan'in, Navy Minister Admiral Fushimi, and others to reassess its policy toward China. Citing the Nationalist Government's delay and lack of sincerity, the Japanese leadership decided to terminate Trautmann's mediation. At the conference, Japan articulated a dual strategy: if the Nationalist Government did not seek peace, Japan would no longer regard it as a viable negotiating partner, instead supporting emerging regimes, seeking to resolve issues through incidents, and aiming either to eliminate or incorporate the existing central government; if the Nationalist Government sought reconciliation, it would be required to cease resistance, cooperate with Japan against communism, and pursue economic cooperation, including officially recognizing Manchukuo and allowing Japanese troops in Inner Mongolia, North China, Central China, and co-governance of Shanghai. The Konoe cabinet relayed this proposal to the German ambassador in Japan on December 22, 1937: It called for: diplomatic recognition of Manchukuo; autonomy for Inner Mongolia; cessation of all anti-Japanese and anti-Manchukuo policies; cooperation between Japan, Manchukuo, and China against communism; war reparations; demilitarized zones in North China and Inner Mongolia; and a trade agreement among Japan, Manchukuo, and China.  Its terms were too severe, including reparations payable to Japan and new political arrangements that would formalize the separation of north China under Japanese control. Chiang's government would have seventy-two hours to accept; if they refused, Tokyo would no longer recognize the Nationalist government and would seek to destroy it.  On January 13, 1938, the Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Chonghui informed Germany that China needed a fuller understanding of the additional conditions for peace talks to make a decision. The January 15 deadline for accepting Japan's terms elapsed without Chinese acceptance. Six days after the deadline for a Chinese government reply, an Imperial Conference “Gozen Kaigi” was convened in Tokyo to consider how to handle Trautmann's mediation. The navy, seeing the war as essentially an army matter, offered no strong position; the army pressed for ending the war through diplomatic means, arguing that they faced a far more formidable Far Eastern Soviet threat at the northern Manchukuo border and wished to avoid protracted attrition warfare. Foreign Minister Kōki Hirota, however, strongly disagreed with the army, insisting there was no viable path to Trautmann's mediation given the vast gap between Chinese and Japanese positions. A second conference followed on January 15, 1938, attended by the empire's principal cabinet members and military leaders, but without the emperor's presence. The debate grew heated over whether to continue Trautmann's mediation. Hayao Tada, Deputy Chief of Army General Staff, argued for continuation, while Konoe, Hirota, Navy Minister Mitsumasa Yonai, and War Minister Hajime Sugiyama opposed him. Ultimately, Tada acceded to the position of Konoe and Hirota. On the same day, Konoe conveyed the cabinet's conclusion, termination of Trautmann's mediation, to the emperor. The Japanese government then issued a statement on January 16 declaring that it would no longer treat the Nationalist Government as a bargaining partner, signaling the establishment of a new Chinese regime that would cooperate with Japan and a realignment of bilateral relations. This became known as the first Konoe statement, through which Tokyo formally ended Trautmann's mediation attempt. The Chinese government was still weighing its response when, at noon on January 16, Konoe publicly declared, “Hereafter, the Imperial Government will not deal with the National Government.” In Japanese, this became the infamous aite ni sezu (“absolutely no dealing”). Over the following days, the Japanese government made it clear that this was a formal breach of relations, “stronger even than a declaration of war,” in the words of Foreign Minister Hirota Kōki. The Chinese ambassador to Japan, who had been in Tokyo for six months since hostilities began, was finally recalled. At the end of January, Chiang summoned a military conference and declared that the top strategic priority would be to defend the east-central Chinese city of Xuzhou, about 500 kilometers north of Wuhan. This decision, like the mobilization near Lugouqiao, was heavily influenced by the railway: Xuzhou sat at the midpoint of the Tianjin–Pukou Jinpu line, and its seizure would grant the Japanese mastery over north–south travel in central China. The Jinpu line also crossed the Longhai line, China's main cross-country artery from Lanzhou to the port of Lianyungang, north of Shanghai. The Japanese military command marked the Jinpu line as a target in spring 1938. Control over Xuzhou and the rail lines threading through it were thus seen as vital to the defense of Wuhan, which lay to the city's south. Chiang's defense strategy fit into a larger plan evolving since the 1920s, when the military thinker Jiang Baili had first proposed a long war against Japan; Jiang's foresight earned him a position as an adviser to Chiang in 1938. Jiang had previously run the Baoding military academy, a predecessor of the Whampoa academy, which had trained many of China's finest young officers in the early republic 1912–1922. Now, many of the generals who had trained under Jiang gathered in Wuhan and would play crucial roles in defending the city: Chen Cheng, Bai Chongxi, Tang Shengzhi, and Xue Yue. They remained loyal to Chiang but sought to avoid his tendency to micromanage every aspect of strategy.  Nobody could say with certainty whether Wuhan would endure the Japanese onslaught, and outsiders' predictions were gloomy. As Wuhan's inhabitants tasted their unexpected new freedoms, the Japanese pressed on with their conquest of central China. After taking Nanjing, the IJA 13th Division crossed the Yangtze River to the north and advanced to the Outang and Mingguang lines on the east bank of the Chihe River in Anhui Province, while the 2nd Army of the North China Front crossed the Yellow River to the south between Qingcheng and Jiyang in Shandong, occupied Jinan, and pressed toward Jining, Mengyin, and Qingdao. To open the Jinpu Railway and connect the northern and southern battlefields, the Japanese headquarters mobilized eight divisions, three brigades, and two detachments , totaling about 240,000 men. They were commanded by General Hata Shunroku, commander of the Central China Expeditionary Army, and Terauchi Hisaichi, commander of the North China Front Army. Their plan was a north–south advance: first seize Xuzhou, a strategic city in east China; then take Zhengzhou in the west along the Longhai Railway connecting Lanzhou and Lianyungang; and finally push toward Wuhan in the south along the Pinghan Railway connecting Beijing and Hankou. At the beginning of 1938, Japan's domestic mobilization and military reorganization had not yet been completed, and there was a shortage of troops to expand the front. At the Emperor's Imperial Conference on February 16, 1938, the General Staff Headquarters argued against launching operations before the summer of 1938, preferring to consolidate the front in 1938 and undertake a large-scale battle in 1939. Although the Northern China Expeditionary Force and the Central China Expeditionary Force proposed a plan to open the Jinpu Line to connect the northern and southern battlefields, the proposal was not approved by the domestic General Staff Headquarters. The Chinese army, commanded by Li Zongren, commander-in-chief of the Fifth War Zone, mobilized about 64 divisions and three brigades, totaling roughly 600,000 men. The main force was positioned north of Xuzhou to resist the southern Japanese advance, with a portion deployed along the southern Jinpu Railway to block the southern push and secure Xuzhou. Early in the campaign, Chiang Kai-shek redeployed the heavy artillery brigade originally promised to Han Fuju to Tang Enbo's forces. To preserve his strength, Shandong Provincial Governor Han Fuju abandoned the longstanding Yellow River defenses in Shandong, allowing the Japanese to capture the Shandong capital of Jinan in early March 1938. This defection opened the Jinpu Railway to attack. The Japanese 10th Division, under Rensuke Isogai, seized Tai'an, Jining, and Dawenkou, ultimately placing northern Shandong under Japanese control. The aim was to crush the Chinese between the two halves of a pincer movement. At Yixian and Huaiyuan, north of Xuzhou, both sides fought to the death: the Chinese could not drive back the Japanese, but the Japanese could not scatter the defenders either. At Linyi, about 50 kilometers northeast of Xuzhou, Zhang Zizhong, who had previously disgraced himself by abandoning an earlier battlefield—became a national hero for his determined efforts to stop the Japanese troops led by Itagaki Seishirō, the conqueror of Manchuria. The Japanese hoped that they could pour in as many as 400,000 troops to destroy the Chinese forces holding eastern and central China. Chiang Kai-shek was determined that this should not happen, recognizing that the fall of Xuzhou would place Wuhan in extreme danger. On April 1, 1938, he addressed Nationalist Party delegates, linking the defense of Wuhan to the fate of the party itself. He noted that although the Japanese had invaded seven provinces, they had only captured provincial capitals and main transport routes, while villages and towns off those routes remained unconquered. The Japanese, he argued, might muster more than half a million soldiers, but after eight or nine months of hard fighting they had become bogged down. Chiang asserted that as long as Guangzhou (Canton) remained in Chinese hands, it would be of little significance if the Japanese invaded Wuhan, since Guangzhou would keep China's sea links open and Guangdong, Sun Yat-sen's homeland, would serve as a revolutionary base area. If the “woren” Japanese “dwarfs” attacked Wuhan and Guangzhou, it would cost them dearly and threaten their control over the occupied zones. He reiterated his plan: “the base area for our war will not be in the zones east of the Beiping–Wuhan or Wuhan–Guangdong railway lines, but to their west.” For this reason he authorized withdrawing Chinese troops behind the railway lines. Chiang's speech mixed defiance with an explanation of why regrouping was necessary; it was a bold public posture in the face of a developing military disaster, yet it reflected the impossible balance he faced between signaling resolve and avoiding overcommitment of a city that might still fall. Holding Xuzhou as the first priority required Chiang Kai-shek to place a great deal of trust in one of his rivals: the southwestern general Li Zongren. The relationship between Chiang and Li would become one of the most ambivalent in wartime China. Li hailed from Guangxi, a province in southwestern China long regarded by the eastern heartland as half civilized. Its people had rarely felt fully part of the empire ruled from Beijing or even Nanjing, and early in the republic there was a strong push for regional autonomy. Li was part of a cohort of young officers trained in regional academies who sought to bring Guangxi under national control; he joined the Nationalist Party in 1923, the year Sun Yat-sen announced his alliance with the Soviets. Li was not a Baoding Academy graduate but had trained at Yunnan's equivalent institution, which shared similar views on military professionalism. He enthusiastically took part in the Northern Expedition (1926–1928) and played a crucial role in the National Revolutionary Army's ascent to control over much of north China. Yet after the Nanjing government took power, Li grew wary of Chiang's bid to centralize authority in his own person. In 1930 Li's so‑called “Guangxi clique” participated in the Central Plains War, the failed effort by militarist leaders to topple Chiang; although the plot failed, Li retreated to his southwest base, ready to challenge Chiang again. The occupation of Manchuria in 1931 reinforced Li's belief that a Japanese threat posed a greater danger than Chiang's centralization. The tension between the two men was evident from the outset of the war. On October 10, 1937, Chiang appointed Li commander of the Fifth War Zone; Li agreed on the condition that Chiang refrain from issuing shouling—personal commands—to Li's subordinates. Chiang complied, a sign of the value he placed on Li's leadership and the caution with which he treated Li and his Guangxi ally Bai Chongxi. As Chiang sought any possible victory amid retreat and destruction, he needed Li to deliver results. As part of the public-relations front, journalists were given access to commanders on the Xuzhou front. Li and his circle sought to shape their image as capable leaders to visiting reporters, with Du Zhongyuan among the most active observers. Du praised the “formidable southwestern general, Li Zongren,” calling him “elegant and refined” and “vastly magnanimous.” In language echoing the era's soldiers' public presentation, Du suggested that Li's forces operated under strict, even disciplined, orders “The most important point in the people's war is that . . . troops do not harass the people of the country. If the people are the water, the soldiers are the fish, and if you have fish with no water, inevitably they're going to choke; worse still is to use our water to nurture the enemy's fish — that really is incomparably stupid”.  Within the southern front, on January 26, 1938, the Japanese 13th Division attacked Fengyang and Bengbu in Anhui Province, while Li Pinxian, Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the 5th War Zone, directed operations south of Xuzhou. The defending 31st Corps of the 11th Group Army, after resisting on the west bank of the Chi River, retreated to the west of Dingyuan and Fengyang. By February 3, the Japanese had captured Linhuai Pass and Bengbu. From the 9th to the 10th, the main force of the 13th Division forced a crossing of the Huai River at Bengbu and Linhuai Pass respectively, and began an offensive against the north bank. The 51st Corps, reorganized from the Central Plains Northeast Army and led by Commander Yu Xuezhong, engaged in fierce combat with the Japanese. Positions on both sides of the Huai shifted repeatedly, producing a riverine bloodbath through intense hand-to-hand fighting. After ten days of engagement, the Fifth War Zone, under Zhang Zizhong, commander of the 59th Army, rushed to the Guzhen area to reinforce the 51st Army, and the two forces stubbornly resisted the Japanese on the north bank of the Huai River. Meanwhile, on the south bank, the 48th Army of the 21st Group Army held the Luqiao area, while the 7th Army, in coordination with the 31st Army, executed a flanking attack on the flanks and rear of the Japanese forces in Dingyuan, compelling the main body of the 13th Division to redeploy to the north bank for support. Seizing the initiative, the 59th and 51st Armies launched a counteroffensive, reclaiming all positions north of the Huai River by early March. The 31st Army then moved from the south bank to the north, and the two sides faced across the river. Subsequently, the 51st and 59th Armies were ordered to reinforce the northern front, while the 31st Army continued to hold the Huai River to ensure that all Chinese forces covering the Battle of Xuzhou were safely withdrawn. Within the northern front, in late February, the Japanese Second Army began its southward push along multiple routes. The eastern axis saw the 5th Division moving south from Weixian present-day Weifang, in Shandong, capturing Yishui, Juxian, and Rizhao before pressing directly toward Linyi, as units of the Nationalist Third Corps' 40th Army and others mounted strenuous resistance. The 59th Army was ordered to reinforce and arrived on March 12 at the west bank of the Yi River in the northern suburbs of Linyi, joining the 40th Army in a counterattack that, after five days and nights of ferocious fighting, inflicted heavy losses on the Japanese and forced them to retreat toward Juxian. On the western route, the Seya Detachment (roughly a brigade) of the Japanese 10th Division crossed the Grand Canal from Jining and attacked Jiaxiang, meeting stiff resistance from the Third Army and being thwarted, while continuing to advance south along the Jinpu Railway. The Isogai Division, advancing on the northern route without awaiting help from the southeast and east, moved southward from Liangxiadian, south of Zouxian, on March 14, with the plan to strike Tengxian, present-day Tengzhou on March 15 and push south toward Xuzhou. The defending 22nd Army and the 41st Corps fought bravely and suffered heavy casualties in a hard battle that lasted until March 17, during which Wang Mingzhang, commander of the 122nd Division defending Teng County, was killed in action. Meanwhile, a separate Japanese thrust under Itagaki Seishirō landed on the Jiaodong Peninsula and occupied Qingdao, advancing along the Jiaoji Line to strike Linyi, a key military town in southern Shandong. Pang Bingxun's 40th Army engaged the invaders in fierce combat, and later, elements of Zhang Zizhong's 333rd Brigade of the 111th Division, reinforced by the 57th Army, joined Pang Bingxun's forces to launch a double-sided pincer that temporarily repelled the Japanese attack on Linyi. By late March 1938 a frightening reality loomed: the Japanese were close to prevailing on the Xuzhou front. The North China Area Army, commanded by Itagaki Seishirō, Nishio Toshizō, and Isogai Rensuke, was poised to link up with the Central China Expeditionary Force under Hata Shunroku in a united drive toward central China. Li Zongren, together with his senior lieutenants Bai Chongxi and Tang Enbo, decided to confront the invaders at Taierzhuang, the traditional stone-walled city that would become a focal point of their defense. 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. Nanjing falls after one of humanities worst atrocities. Chiang Kai-Shek's war command has been pushed to Wuhan, but the Japanese are not stopping their advance. Trautmann's mediation is over and now Japan has its sights on Xuzhou and its critical railway junctions. Japan does not realize it yet, but she is now entering a long war of attrition.

Nagasaki: The Last Witnesses (Penguin Random House, 2025) is the second volume in a prize-worthy two-book series based on years of irreplicable personal interviews with survivors about each of the atomic bomb drops, first in Hiroshima and then Nagasaki, that hastened the end of the Pacific War. On August 6, 1945, the United States unleashed a weapon unlike anything the world had ever seen. Then, just three days later, when Japan showed no sign of surrender, the United States took aim at Nagasaki.Rendered in harrowing detail, this historical narrative is the second and final volume in M. G. Sheftall's series Embers. Sheftall has spent years personally interviewing hibakusha—the Japanese word for atomic bomb survivors. These last living witnesses are a vanishing memory resource, the only people who can still provide us with reliable and detailed testimony about life in their cities before the use of nuclear weaponry.The result is an intimate, firsthand account of life in Nagasaki, and the story of incomprehensible devastation and resilience in the aftermath of the second atomic bomb drop. This blow-by-blow account takes us from the city streets, as word of the attack on Hiroshima reaches civilians, to the cockpit of Bockscar, when Charles Sweeney dropped “Fat Man,” to the interminable six days while the world waited to see if Japan would surrender to the Allies–or if more bombs would fall. Related Genres: Asian World History, 1950 – Present Military History, World War II Military History Praise for M.G. Sheftall's Embers Series: “Sheftall's meticulous, novelistic recreations are deeply immersive. It's an invaluable contribution to 20th century history.”—Publishers Weekly on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II) (starred review)“A definitive account of a watershed moment in history.”—Kirkus on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II)“M.G. Sheftall's Hiroshima presents as a master class in eyewitness storytelling. As poignant as it is powerful, this gripping narrative chronicles one of history's darkest nightmare moments—the atomic bombing of Hiroshima in August 1945—and the memories of its surviving eyewitnesses. As the events fade from living memory, Hiroshima is at once a brilliant tribute and a cautionary tale.”—Annie Jacobsen, author of Nuclear War: A Scenario“An important, deep-dive book into most every detail about the atomic bomb's making and use, in anger. A strong argument for why it must never be allowed to be used for any reason whatsoever. This book adds significantly to the argument that we need to back up fast and return to nuclear arms reduction.”—Charles Pellegrino, author of To Hell and Back: The Last Train from Hiroshima“M.G. Sheftall takes us on a deep dive into one of the most significant and horrific events in world history. Hiroshima is a gripping, moving story of fear and shame, courage and grace, and a powerful argument that we should never, ever use these weapons again.”—Evan Thomas, author of Road to Surrender: Three Men and the Countdown to the End of World War II“A compelling analysis of the suffering endured by the citizens of Hiroshima in the aftermath of the dropping of the nuclear bomb on 6 August 1945. Written by a scholar who lives and works in Japan, and who has interviewed many of the last survivors, this is a book that offers valuable insights into Japanese thinking during the war and the subsequent struggle to rebuild the country.”—Laurence Rees, author of Auschwitz and The Holocaust 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

Nagasaki: The Last Witnesses (Penguin Random House, 2025) is the second volume in a prize-worthy two-book series based on years of irreplicable personal interviews with survivors about each of the atomic bomb drops, first in Hiroshima and then Nagasaki, that hastened the end of the Pacific War. On August 6, 1945, the United States unleashed a weapon unlike anything the world had ever seen. Then, just three days later, when Japan showed no sign of surrender, the United States took aim at Nagasaki.Rendered in harrowing detail, this historical narrative is the second and final volume in M. G. Sheftall's series Embers. Sheftall has spent years personally interviewing hibakusha—the Japanese word for atomic bomb survivors. These last living witnesses are a vanishing memory resource, the only people who can still provide us with reliable and detailed testimony about life in their cities before the use of nuclear weaponry.The result is an intimate, firsthand account of life in Nagasaki, and the story of incomprehensible devastation and resilience in the aftermath of the second atomic bomb drop. This blow-by-blow account takes us from the city streets, as word of the attack on Hiroshima reaches civilians, to the cockpit of Bockscar, when Charles Sweeney dropped “Fat Man,” to the interminable six days while the world waited to see if Japan would surrender to the Allies–or if more bombs would fall. Related Genres: Asian World History, 1950 – Present Military History, World War II Military History Praise for M.G. Sheftall's Embers Series: “Sheftall's meticulous, novelistic recreations are deeply immersive. It's an invaluable contribution to 20th century history.”—Publishers Weekly on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II) (starred review)“A definitive account of a watershed moment in history.”—Kirkus on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II)“M.G. Sheftall's Hiroshima presents as a master class in eyewitness storytelling. As poignant as it is powerful, this gripping narrative chronicles one of history's darkest nightmare moments—the atomic bombing of Hiroshima in August 1945—and the memories of its surviving eyewitnesses. As the events fade from living memory, Hiroshima is at once a brilliant tribute and a cautionary tale.”—Annie Jacobsen, author of Nuclear War: A Scenario“An important, deep-dive book into most every detail about the atomic bomb's making and use, in anger. A strong argument for why it must never be allowed to be used for any reason whatsoever. This book adds significantly to the argument that we need to back up fast and return to nuclear arms reduction.”—Charles Pellegrino, author of To Hell and Back: The Last Train from Hiroshima“M.G. Sheftall takes us on a deep dive into one of the most significant and horrific events in world history. Hiroshima is a gripping, moving story of fear and shame, courage and grace, and a powerful argument that we should never, ever use these weapons again.”—Evan Thomas, author of Road to Surrender: Three Men and the Countdown to the End of World War II“A compelling analysis of the suffering endured by the citizens of Hiroshima in the aftermath of the dropping of the nuclear bomb on 6 August 1945. Written by a scholar who lives and works in Japan, and who has interviewed many of the last survivors, this is a book that offers valuable insights into Japanese thinking during the war and the subsequent struggle to rebuild the country.”—Laurence Rees, author of Auschwitz and The Holocaust Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

Nagasaki: The Last Witnesses (Penguin Random House, 2025) is the second volume in a prize-worthy two-book series based on years of irreplicable personal interviews with survivors about each of the atomic bomb drops, first in Hiroshima and then Nagasaki, that hastened the end of the Pacific War. On August 6, 1945, the United States unleashed a weapon unlike anything the world had ever seen. Then, just three days later, when Japan showed no sign of surrender, the United States took aim at Nagasaki.Rendered in harrowing detail, this historical narrative is the second and final volume in M. G. Sheftall's series Embers. Sheftall has spent years personally interviewing hibakusha—the Japanese word for atomic bomb survivors. These last living witnesses are a vanishing memory resource, the only people who can still provide us with reliable and detailed testimony about life in their cities before the use of nuclear weaponry.The result is an intimate, firsthand account of life in Nagasaki, and the story of incomprehensible devastation and resilience in the aftermath of the second atomic bomb drop. This blow-by-blow account takes us from the city streets, as word of the attack on Hiroshima reaches civilians, to the cockpit of Bockscar, when Charles Sweeney dropped “Fat Man,” to the interminable six days while the world waited to see if Japan would surrender to the Allies–or if more bombs would fall. Related Genres: Asian World History, 1950 – Present Military History, World War II Military History Praise for M.G. Sheftall's Embers Series: “Sheftall's meticulous, novelistic recreations are deeply immersive. It's an invaluable contribution to 20th century history.”—Publishers Weekly on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II) (starred review)“A definitive account of a watershed moment in history.”—Kirkus on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II)“M.G. Sheftall's Hiroshima presents as a master class in eyewitness storytelling. As poignant as it is powerful, this gripping narrative chronicles one of history's darkest nightmare moments—the atomic bombing of Hiroshima in August 1945—and the memories of its surviving eyewitnesses. As the events fade from living memory, Hiroshima is at once a brilliant tribute and a cautionary tale.”—Annie Jacobsen, author of Nuclear War: A Scenario“An important, deep-dive book into most every detail about the atomic bomb's making and use, in anger. A strong argument for why it must never be allowed to be used for any reason whatsoever. This book adds significantly to the argument that we need to back up fast and return to nuclear arms reduction.”—Charles Pellegrino, author of To Hell and Back: The Last Train from Hiroshima“M.G. Sheftall takes us on a deep dive into one of the most significant and horrific events in world history. Hiroshima is a gripping, moving story of fear and shame, courage and grace, and a powerful argument that we should never, ever use these weapons again.”—Evan Thomas, author of Road to Surrender: Three Men and the Countdown to the End of World War II“A compelling analysis of the suffering endured by the citizens of Hiroshima in the aftermath of the dropping of the nuclear bomb on 6 August 1945. Written by a scholar who lives and works in Japan, and who has interviewed many of the last survivors, this is a book that offers valuable insights into Japanese thinking during the war and the subsequent struggle to rebuild the country.”—Laurence Rees, author of Auschwitz and The Holocaust Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/military-history

On August 23, 2025, the MacArthur Memorial hosted Finale in the Pacific, a half day exploration of the end of the Pacific War. The event was a partnership between the MacArthur Memorial, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, and the Military Aviation Museum. One of the presenters, historian Dennis M. Giangreco, discussed President Truman's decision to use the atomic bomb. Have a comment about this episode? Send us a text message! (Note: we can only read the texts, we can't reply) Follow us on:Twitter: @MacArthur1880; @AEWilliamsClarkFacebook: @MacArthurMemorialwww.macarthurmemorial.org

Nagasaki: The Last Witnesses (Penguin Random House, 2025) is the second volume in a prize-worthy two-book series based on years of irreplicable personal interviews with survivors about each of the atomic bomb drops, first in Hiroshima and then Nagasaki, that hastened the end of the Pacific War. On August 6, 1945, the United States unleashed a weapon unlike anything the world had ever seen. Then, just three days later, when Japan showed no sign of surrender, the United States took aim at Nagasaki.Rendered in harrowing detail, this historical narrative is the second and final volume in M. G. Sheftall's series Embers. Sheftall has spent years personally interviewing hibakusha—the Japanese word for atomic bomb survivors. These last living witnesses are a vanishing memory resource, the only people who can still provide us with reliable and detailed testimony about life in their cities before the use of nuclear weaponry.The result is an intimate, firsthand account of life in Nagasaki, and the story of incomprehensible devastation and resilience in the aftermath of the second atomic bomb drop. This blow-by-blow account takes us from the city streets, as word of the attack on Hiroshima reaches civilians, to the cockpit of Bockscar, when Charles Sweeney dropped “Fat Man,” to the interminable six days while the world waited to see if Japan would surrender to the Allies–or if more bombs would fall. Related Genres: Asian World History, 1950 – Present Military History, World War II Military History Praise for M.G. Sheftall's Embers Series: “Sheftall's meticulous, novelistic recreations are deeply immersive. It's an invaluable contribution to 20th century history.”—Publishers Weekly on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II) (starred review)“A definitive account of a watershed moment in history.”—Kirkus on Nagasaki (Embers: Volume II)“M.G. Sheftall's Hiroshima presents as a master class in eyewitness storytelling. As poignant as it is powerful, this gripping narrative chronicles one of history's darkest nightmare moments—the atomic bombing of Hiroshima in August 1945—and the memories of its surviving eyewitnesses. As the events fade from living memory, Hiroshima is at once a brilliant tribute and a cautionary tale.”—Annie Jacobsen, author of Nuclear War: A Scenario“An important, deep-dive book into most every detail about the atomic bomb's making and use, in anger. A strong argument for why it must never be allowed to be used for any reason whatsoever. This book adds significantly to the argument that we need to back up fast and return to nuclear arms reduction.”—Charles Pellegrino, author of To Hell and Back: The Last Train from Hiroshima“M.G. Sheftall takes us on a deep dive into one of the most significant and horrific events in world history. Hiroshima is a gripping, moving story of fear and shame, courage and grace, and a powerful argument that we should never, ever use these weapons again.”—Evan Thomas, author of Road to Surrender: Three Men and the Countdown to the End of World War II“A compelling analysis of the suffering endured by the citizens of Hiroshima in the aftermath of the dropping of the nuclear bomb on 6 August 1945. Written by a scholar who lives and works in Japan, and who has interviewed many of the last survivors, this is a book that offers valuable insights into Japanese thinking during the war and the subsequent struggle to rebuild the country.”—Laurence Rees, author of Auschwitz and The Holocaust Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/japanese-studies

Hello Youtube Members, Patreons and Pacific War week by week listeners. Yes this was intended to be an exclusive episode to join the 29 others over on my Youtube Membership and Patreon, but since we are drawing to the end of the Pacific War week by week series, I felt compelled to make some special episodes to answer some of the bigger questions.   Hey before I begin I just want to thank all of you who have joined the patreon, you guys are awesome. Please let me know what other figures, events or other things you want to hear about in the future and I will try to make it happen.   So as you can see the title of this episode is, Why did the Japanese perform so many Atrocities during the Pacific War. Phewww, its honestly a difficult one to tackle, for there are countless reasons. I had a university professor who taught; ancient and modern Japanese history, history of the Japanese empire and the Pacific War. He actually answered this very question in a single lecture and in many ways I found it to be one of the most illuminating things I ever learnt about the Pacific War. To truly understand the reasons why they did such horrible things, you actually need to learn the general history of Japan, particularly the changes from Tokugawa, to Meiji, to Showa. I am going to do my very best, but I know many of you might be asking “what were the worst things they did?”, not everyone takes a special interest into such a niche part of history. May I recommend for those with strong stomachs “the knights of Bushido” by Edward Russel that covers pretty much all the atrocities of the Asia-Pacific War. For those of you who like darker things, check out Unit 731: Japan's Secret Biological Warfare in World War II by David Wallace and Peter Williams, absolute nightmare fuel.   I can't go through the entire history of Japan, but I think it's important to start off with the first Sino-Japanese War of 1894-1895. This was the first time the Empire of Japan fought a true war with a foreign nation, that being the Qing dynasty. At this point in time, there really emerged a sort of, to be blunt, race war. The Chinese had historically referred to the Japanese as “woren”, a racist term meaning dwarf. Now historically the Japanese had always revered the Chinese, kind of like in the way a little brother looks up to his big brother. In tokugawa Japan they would learn from the Chinese, but as the Meiji restoration began this dramatically changed. Japan watched as the Chinese were humiliating and abused by the western powers and failed to modernize. Meanwhile Japan emulated the best of the west, to modernize and become a great power themselves. In many ways, Japan saw itself become big brother and now China was little brother. The Meiji restoration had an element of nationalism built into it that would explode come the Show era. Japan for its entire history had this belief they were the “Yamato Race” dating back to the 6th century. Now while the Meiji restoration sought to emulate the west, they also emulated racism and propaganda, which in the 19th century was kind of a big deal. The Japanese government gradually began a long term campaign promoting the idea the Japanese, or Yamato people were superior to that of the other asian races. Who was the next big asian boy on the block? China, so it was inevitable they would direct a lot of racist attitudes towards the Chinese. During the first sino-japanese war, the Chinese, particularly Manchu had a habit of performing atrocities upon the Japanese. They would often cut off body parts of Japanese soldiers in grotesque manners and leave them to be found by their comrades. This was honestly a pretty typical thing of war in the region, but it did also have a racist element to it, the Chinese certainly saw the Japanese as lesser people. Just before the battle of Port Arthur, the Japanese found mutilated remains of the comrades, here is a passage from Makio Okabe who was there:   As we entered the town of Port Arthur, we saw the head of a Japanese soldier displayed on a wooden stake. This filled us with rage and a desire to crush any Chinese soldier. Anyone we saw in the town, we killed. The streets were filled with corpses, so many they blocked our way. We killed people in their homes; by and large, there wasn't a single house without from three to six dead. Blood was flowing and the smell was awful. We sent out search parties. We shot some, hacked at others. The Chinese troops just dropped their arms and fled. Firing and slashing, it was unbounded joy. At this time, our artillery troops were at the rear, giving three cheers [banzai] for the emperor.   The Japanese performed a massacre at Port Arthur, butchering perhaps up to 3000 Chinese civilians, some claim 10's of thousands and in full few of western war correspondents. It became a huge controversy that destroyed the image of the IJA internationally and hurt the Japanese governments efforts at riding themselves of unequal treaties with the western powers. The Japanese learnt a hell of a lesson and an Imperial Proclamation was made in 1894 stating that Japanese soldiers should make every effort to win the war without violating international laws. According to Japanese historian Yuki Tanaka, Japanese forces during the First Sino-Japanese War released 1,790 Chinese prisoners without harm, once they signed an agreement not to take up arms against Japan if they were released.   During the next major war the Japanese performed a dramatic 180, well at least to their enemy. During the Russo-Japanese War, over 80,000 Russian POWs were held by the IJA who were treated in accordance with the Hague conventions of 1899. The Japanese paid them for labor, housed them in conventional POW camps, made sure they received good medical treatment, ironically better than the Russians were capable of. The Japanese did all of this, making sure the foreign war correspondents wrote about it. It was a massive PR stunt in many ways. The Japanese were emulating how a world power should act, because they sought to be one. Meanwhile the Japanese swallowed their pride at being called yellow monkeys, as the prevalent Yellow Peril ideology was being pushed by Kaiser Wilhehelm and Tsar Nicholas II heavily. The Japanese treated the entire war like gentlemen and suffered horrific higher casualties than necessary because of it. But something many people don't take much notice of, because the IJA made sure of it, was they horrible treatment of the Chinese during the war.   Now the Russians in Manchuria looted, killed and raped many Chinese, pushed quite a bit by the Yellow Peril. The Chinese, certainly the Honghuzi bandits were working for the Japanese to attack them, so its not like they had no reasons. The IJA was more professional and had orders not to molest the Chinese, as they were helping the war effort, but this did not prevent it. The Japanese also looted, killed and raped Chinese. The Japanese would often wave it off as reprisals against potential spies. I only bring this up as it was very apparent, the Japanese treated the Russians much different than the chinese.   Fast forward to WW1, the Japanese had a battle against the Germans and Austro-Hungarians known in the west as the Siege of Tsingtau. The Japanese took up an identical methodology to the Russo-Japanese war with their approach to the Germans, but even took it a step further. After winning the siege, the Japanese seized nearly 5000 German POW's who were treated with a surreal amount of respect. They were brought back to Japan and housed for the rest of the war in 12 cities around Tokyo and Kumamoto. The POW's enjoyed humane treatment and a rather famous event occurred at the Bando camp where a large orchestra was formed of German POW's who toured the nation performing 100 concerts, lectures and plays. Evidence the Germans were treated well can be seen in the fact 170 prisoners never left Japan and sought wives and lives there. Now is this all a feel good love story, no, just like during the Russo-Japanese War, Japan was playing up the PR, for during WW1 they wanted official recognition as a world power and that of being racially equal to the whites.    Japan was officially recognized as a world power during the treaty of Versailles, but when Japan gave its racial equality proposal, President Woodrow Wilson of the US and Australian Prime Minister Billy Hughes refused to allow it to pass, even though they received majority votes. Now The Japanese had been for a lack of better words, fucked over, during the first sino-japanese war when the triple intervention of France, Germany and Russia stole away their war earning of the Liaodong peninsula. During the Russo-Japanese war, Theodore Roosevelt limited the Japanese war gains and now here after WW1 the Japanese received another humiliation. To the Japanese, it was the last straw and it was a major reason they went to war with the west, who they viewed, and honestly rightfully so, would never see them as equals.   Ompf, lot of history there, but now we come to the Showa era, which was molded by the feelings of the past decades.   In 1937 Japan and China enter an unofficial war that saw one of the worst wartime atrocities in human history, the rape of Nanjing. It began on December 13th of 1937, lasting 6 or so weeks seeing the murder of possibly 300,000 civilians and pows, the mass rape of 20,000 and untold hardship upon the Chinese people. The Japanese followed this up with numerous other massacres in China such as the Changjiao Massacre claiming possibly 30,000 Chinese civilian lives, the Alexandra Hospital Massacre killing 200 patients and medical staff in Hong Kong, the Laha Massacre on Ambon island where 300 members of the Gull force were executed, the Bangka island massacre where 60 Australian and British soldiers and 22 Australian nurses were murdered, the Parit Sulong massacre in Malay where 150 wounded Australian and Indian POW's were executed, the Bataan Death march where negligence and brutality took the lives of 650 Americans and perhaps a possible 18,000 Filipinos, the Manila massacres claiming the lives of perhaps 54,000 filipinos including women and children in the Philippines, the Balikpapan massacre in the dutch east indies taking the lives of 78 Dutch Civilians, I can keep going and going. Where the Japanese went, massacres and horrors occurred.    Again if you really want to delve into these stories check out “the knights of Bushido”.   The Japanese also had the infamous special units like 731, who conducted horrifying experiments on civilians and POWs like vivisectioning live people without anesthesia, testing biological and chemical weapons on live people, the freezing peoples to study frostbite treatment and giving people sexually transmitted diseases to study. Lt General Shiro Ishii's unit 731 deployed plague infested fleas, cholera, bubonic plague and other nasty weapons upon Chinese civilians killing perhaps up to 500,000. This was seen during the battle of Changde and famously during operation Sei-go also known as the Zhejiang-Jiangxi campaign.    The Japanese also enacted the infamous “Sanko Sakusen / three all's policy : kill all, urn all, loot all” in retaliation to the Chinese communists Hundred regiments offensive in December of 1940. Sanctioned by Hirohito personally, it is thought this act resulted in the death of 2.7 million Chinese civilians. According to author Werner Gruhl 8 million Chinese civilian deaths could be attributable to the Japanese.     So then we come back to the big question, why? So now that I've covered the loose history for coherency sake I want to list here the largest reasons for the atrocities and by no means is this official categories or even all of them, I am simply stating kind of my top ones I guess you can say:   Treaties signed or not signed War strategy and indoctrination  Ultra-Nationalism and Racism Surrender & the Bastardization of the Bushido code The Brutality of the Japanese military Treaties signed or not signed   Yes its time to talk about treaties, yawn. Now I said previously Japan did sign the Hague Conventions of 1899 and would ratify them in 1907. The Hague conventions did contain laws for prisoners of war, protection of civilians. Alongside this, in 1894 an imperial proclamation was made stating Japanese soldiers should make every effort to win a war without violating international laws. More significantly Japan “signed” but unlike the majority of other world powers did not ratify the Geneva convention of 1929. Why? To be blunt, the geneva conventions did not really benefit the Japanese military from their point of view.   First the Japanese had a very specific perspective on surrendering, they simply did not do it, so they did not expect many of their soldiers to ever become POW's, so how would it benefit them to ratify such a thing? If they are not going to have many POW's, why would they burden themselves with upholding all the conventional laws for POW's they would obtain during war?  Another glaring reason involved aerial bombing. Many Japanese leaders, like Kanji Ishiwara, believed the home islands would be subjected to massive aerial bombing if a global war broke out. If Japan was subjected to aerial bombing and ratified the geneva convention, this meant they would have to take the pilots who were caught prisoner. The Japanese believed this would encourage further bombing. Lastly the convention had rules for POW treatment that literally contradicted how Japanese soldiers were treated by their own superiors. More about that in the last part about the military's brutality, but summarized, the Japanese army were abusive as hell and to sign such a thing would literally contradict how they did things.   Emperor Hirohito personally ratified a decision to remove certain constraints of the Hague Conventions when it came to the treatment of Chinese POW's in the directive of 5 August 1937. This notification advised staff officers to simply stop using the term "prisoners of war". They would refer to their enemy as bandits, guerillas and such, anything but soldiers so they would not have to take any prisoners, though they typically did not leave anyone alive in China regardless. The Geneva Convention exempted POWs of sergeant rank or higher from manual labor, and stipulated that prisoners performing work should be provided with extra rations and other essentials. The Japanese in the later half of the war would be starved of provisions and resources, thus its to no surprise they could not meet these demands, even if they sought to uphold them. I will note in 1942, Japan indicated they would “follow” the Geneva rules and would observe the Hague Convention of 1907 outlining the laws and customs of war. Yet this is like a verbal confirmation, it had no legal basis, something the Japanese particularly loved to do during the war.   According to Dr. William Skelton III, who produced a document entitled American Ex Prisoners of War for the U.S. Department of Veterans' Affairs, more POWs died at the hands of the Japanese in the Pacific theater and specifically in the Philippines than in any other conflict to date. For example in Germany, POWs died at a rate 1.2%. In the Pacific theater the rate was 37%. In the Philippines, POWs died at a rate of 40%.    Now these pieces of paper that were signed or not signed, what does this really matter when it comes to war, its obvious they were not upholding certain rules, but how did this quote en quote make them more brutal and perform more atrocities? Well here is the sticky thing, if you are part of the Japanese military and you know your nation did not ratify certain rules of war, this meant your enemy had no supposed legal basis to follow said rules against you either.    So I want you to think of two aspects of this. If your nation did not sign or ratify certain treaties, then you could not expect the enemy to respect such rules when it comes to you. But more importantly, what if the leader of your nation…just told you to believe that?    In early 1942, Great Britain, the United States of America and other great powers did officially let the Japanese know that they would, on their  part, observe all the provisions of the Convention and requested reciprocity. Japanese foreign minister at the time, Hideki Tojo gave a formal assurance that although Japan was not bound by the Geneva convention, the Japanese would apply it “mutatis mutandis” towards the Americans, British, Canadians, Australians and New Zealander POW's, note he most definitely did not extend this to the asiatic groups, nor the Dutch whom I guess he just forgot about. But this did morally bind Japan to comply with the convention. However the top brass of the Japanese military, notably Hideki Tojo in these cases, went out of his way to instill beliefs within the military as to what they should expect from the enemy. As you will see in the next points, this was basically a type of indoctrination.   War strategy and indoctrination    The leaders of Japan knew full well how unmatched they were in terms of resources and productivity before they began the war with the west. How could they possibly win the war? The IJN was dead set on a decisive naval battle, but for the IJA to compensate for their lack of resources, they believed their “spirit” would overcome the enemy. In many ways this spirit meant going above and beyond normal human endurance, to literally outperform the allies and notably to conduct the war with absolutely zero mercy. Once Japan lost the initiative in the war, after Guadalcanal, the IJA were forced to fight a war of attrition. Now they would prolong and exact maximum casualties upon the allies hoping to force them to the peace table. The idea was quite simple, the IJA would do everything possible to make the allies believe they would never give up and it would far too costly to defeat them. How does one go about achieving these aims? Well the IJA officers would tell you “by steeling your hearts”. To achieve all of this required extreme indoctrination.    Japanese children grew up in regimentation, they were desensitized to violence through tales of martial glory, and were taught that their purpose in life was to serve the emperor. Upon entering  military service, they were trained out of any individualistic spirit, and taught that compassion was a weakness and had no place in the field of war. The soldier's motto was faith equaled strength.  Faith being devotion to duty and service to the Divine Emperor. Apart from ideology and spiritual toughening, training in the Japanese Imperial Army was also extremely harsh and violent. This was not even particularly a special aspect of Showa Japan, it went all the way back to the Meiji era. From a young age children's education directed them, like a pipeline for military duty.   Now at the offset of the war, Hideki Tojo released the “Senjinkun” “instructions for the battlefield”. This was basically a manual for soldiers on how to conduct war. The document was used to establish standards of behavior for Japanese troops and improve discipline and morale within the Army, it also included things like a prohibition against being taken prisoner. It stated if you were captured by the enemy, because Japan did not sign or ratify certain treaties, you would be killed or tortured by the allies, and if you survived you and your family would face shame back home, and punishment resulting typically in 6 months of prison.   Here is a small excerpt from the document Those who know shame are weak. Always think of [preserving] the honor of your community and be a credit to yourself and your family. Redouble your efforts and respond to their expectations. Never live to experience shame as a prisoner. By dying you will avoid leaving a stain on your honor.   The purpose was basically psychological warfare, against their own army. Those like Hideki Tojo believed Japan could only defeat the resource rich Americans with spirit. Thus the manuals like Senjinkun demanded the forces not ever surrender, because the allies would do horrible things, it was shameful to do so and there were disciplinary actions for any who did. In 1942 the Army amended its criminal code to specify that officers who surrendered soldiers under their command faced at least six months imprisonment, regardless of the circumstances in which the surrender took place. This change attracted little attention, however, as the Senjinkun imposed more severe consequences and had greater moral force.   In a report dated June 1945, the U.S. Office of War Information noted that 84 percent of one group of interrogated Japanese prisoners, many of whom had been injured or unconscious when captured stated that they had expected to be killed or tortured by the Allies if taken prisoner. The OWI analysts described this as being typical, and concluded that fear of the consequences of surrender, “rather than Bushido,” was the motivation for many Japanese battle deaths in hopeless circumstances–as much as, and probably more than, the other two major considerations: fear of disgrace at home, and “the positive desire to die for one's nation, ancestors, and god-emperor.”   Something barely talked about in the west, was during the Pacific War, the Americans had a habit of taking human trophies. Human trophies were Japanese skulls, gold teeth, finger bones and such. The famous novel “With the Old Breed” by Eugene Sledge spoke of his personal accounts of these actions, its a rather gruesome and dark part of the war. Now some of these actions were publicized, despite the US military's efforts to quell and hush it down. Time magazine famously had an iconic photo of a woman whose enlisted boyfriend sent her home a Japanese skull. FDR also famously was given a letter opener carved out of Japanese bones. These stories were seized up greedily by the Japanese government who used them as propaganda to prove to their soldiers what would happen if they were captured. It had a profound effect as you can imagine. And this was not limited to Japanese soldiers. The propaganda machine would contribute at the end of the war to mass civilian suicides on Okinawa and Saipan.   Back to the POW subject. When it came to the treatment of POW's, Hideki Tojo began submitting in May of 1942 a series of memorandum, basic orders as to how POW's should be treated. “Prisoners of war can be used for the enlargement of our production and as military labor, white prisoners of war will be confined successively in Korea, Formosa and Manchuria. Superior technicians and high ranking officers -- Colonels and above -- will be included among the prisoners of war confined in Formosa. Those who are not suitable for use in enlargement of our production will be confined in prisoner of war camps which will be built immediately on the spot.Although the working of prisoner of war officers and warrant officers is forbidden by the Regulations of 1903, the policy of the control authorities is that under the situation of our country where not one person now eats without working they want them to set to work. It is desired that you give proper orders on this.The present situation of affairs in this country does not permit anyone to lie idle doing nothing but eating freely. With that in view, in dealing with prisoners of war, I hope you will see that they may be usefully employed. In Japan, we have our own ideology concerning prisoners of war, which should naturally make their treatment more or less different from that in Europe and America. In dealing with them, you should, of course, observe the various Regulations concerned, aim at an adequate application of them . . . At the same time, you must not allow them to lie idle doing nothing but eating freely for even a single day. Their labor and technical skill should be fully utilized for the replenishment of production, and contribution rendered toward the prosecution of the Greater East Asiatic War for which no effort ought to be spared."   Thus in the end as a grunt in the IJA you were led to believe: if I am captured I will be tortured, killed maybe turned into a letter opener, or someone will place my skull on their mantle. If I surrender and survive and make it back home, I will be severely punished and worst of all me and my family will be shamed. I could not expect any humanity from the enemy, because my nation did not sign or ratify treaties like the Geneva convention. More so, because my armies conduct was so unbelievably barbaric, I could only expect the very same from my enemy. It was a vicious cycle. You perform atrocities, expecting the enemy to do the same, and thus it just keeps perpetuating itself. Ultra-Nationalism and Racism   Now we spoke a little bit about the concept of the Yamato race, the Japanese were indoctrinated to believe they were a superior race and that their emperor was something akin to a living god. Until this war, the Japanese empire was on a hell of a winning streak going all the way back to the Meiji Era. For the first half of the Pacific war, the Japanese won nearly every battle. This led to something historians called “victory disease” that made them become somewhat arrogant and cocky, but it also made them feel “superhuman”. The allies' news reporting at the beginning of the war began to frantically refer to the Japanese as “supermen”or  “super jungle fighters”. Particularly because of the Malay campaign, the Japanese soldier just seemed to be tougher, could survive harsher jungle climates, even doing so with less food or war materials. The Japanese read the allied news reports and came to the conclusion that had been driven down their throats by their government, indeed the Japanese spirit was winning the war. The Japanese public ate this up in their propaganda and it perpetuated their ultra-nationalistic beliefs. The Japanese truly came to believe they were destined to rule the asia-pacific. Look at the results in China for example. Within a short amount of time they conquered much of China, though the public really had no idea how bad the China was bottled down by 1940. Then came the greater east asia co-prosperity sphere propaganda, which is an excellent example of their megalomania.    Yet alongside their ultra-nationalism, seen more strongly perpetuated against other Asian groups, the Japanese also indoctrinated their public with racism against them. The Yellow Peril of the 19th century and anti-japanese or anti-asian racism fueled the Japanese soldiers. The Japanese as a people had faced brutal racist hardships historically at the hands of the west, particularly from their point of view from America. There was the slights against them during the first sino-japanese war, the infamous triple intervention of france, germany and Russia stealing away their prize that was the liaodong peninsula. Then during the Boxer rebellion they faced racism, not being allowed to lead mutli national army formations, despite them being the lionshare of said military force. The Russo-Japanese war saw from their point of view, America stealing their war prizes. Last but not least, after WW1 they were told to their faces that they were a world power, but not racially equal. The Japanese faced anti-Japanese and anti-asian immigration laws when it came to America in the form of the gentleman's agreement and Australia's “great white Australia policy”. During the war, the American propaganda machine began pumping out racist caricatures of Japanese as rats, goggle eyed  bucktooth people, literal yellow monkey's.   For the IJA the pacific war in many was a holy war directed at the arrogant whites who had abused them for so long. This will probably sound controversial, but indeed, the pacific war was very much a race war. If you are not convinced of that, I recommend reading “War without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War” by John Dower. The human trophy taking, anti-japanese bucktooth, rat people cartoon propaganda, history of racial abuse like the japanese concentration camps, the gentleman's agreement, the stealing of victories during the first sino-japanese war, russo-japanese war and ww1 all plagued the mind of a Japanese soldier. To them in many ways, the “whites had it coming”. Which is rather ironic given how the Japanese would treat the other asian racial groups they came into contact with. But such is the contradictory nature of the Imperial Japanese military.    The Japanese also held racist beliefs about the westerners. The Japanese soldiers were taught the allies were akin to demons or beasts. They were described often as “the hairy ones” or “anglo-American demons”. Taught these men would rape women and girls, stample upon the civilians they captured with the treads of their tanks. The marines were especially dreaded.  According to a story circulated widely among the Japanese on Saipan, all Marine Corps recruits were compelled to murder their own parents before being inducted into service. It was said that Japanese soldiers taken prisoner would suffer hideous tortures—their ears, noses, and limbs would be cut off; they would be blinded and castrated; they could also be cooked and fed to dogs. As silly as this may sound, do remember the Americans were taking human trophies so the Japanese propaganda machine had its evidence. Tons of photos of skulls atop american tanks for example were displayed to the Japanese public. Another famous one was the cartoon appearing in an American servicemen's magazine, which was later reproduced and translated in the Japanese press. It suggested the existence of “Japanese hunting licenses, promising open season on the enemy, complete with free ammunition and equipment—with pay!    In terms of how the Japanese exacted their own racism towards their fellow asians. During the War the Japanese dragged into forced labor, Koreans, Chinese and southeast asians. 670,000 Koreans were brought to Japan to work mines and heavy industry, around 60,000 of them died to harsh conditions. Between April 1943 to May 1945, 41,862 Chinese were sent to Japan to work, 2800 died before even reaching the home islands. 6872 died in the work sites again from brutal conditions. When it comes to southeast asian numbers are hard to pinpoint but its safe to say at least 300,000 Javanese, Malay, Burmese, Tamil and other groups were mobilized to construct the Burma-Siam railroad between October 1942 to november 1943 and 60,000 perished. This all went for the men, for the women, all those racial groups would face the horrors of becoming comfort women, historians estimate there could have been 50-200,000 pressed into it. But for the Japanese, believing their were superior to these other asiatic groups, groups whom they would publicly say were like children, they as the father figure would guide, well they simply abused them.   So in a contradictive fashion, the Japanese believed they were superior and could do horrible things to their Asian neighbors while simultaneously decrying the racism cast towards them by western powers as justification for their brutal actions against them. These types of feelings and perspectives molded the mind of the average Japanese soldier, dehumanizing others has always been a standard military practice afterall.    Surrender & the Bastardization of the Bushido code   I think this is one the vast majority of WW2 history buffs know, the Japanese perspective on surrender and the bushido code. In the book “military trials of war criminals in the Netherlands east indies 1946-1949” Fred Borch had this to say about the variable of bushido for the brutality   As Japan continued its modernization in the early 20th century, her armed forces became convinced that success in battle would be assured if Japanese soldiers, sailors, and airmen had the "spirit" of Bushido. ... The result was that the Bushido code of behavior "was inculcated into the Japanese soldier as part of his basic training." Each soldier was indoctrinated to accept that it was the greatest honor to die for the Emperor and it was cowardly to surrender to the enemy. ... Bushido therefore explains why the Japanese soldiers who were stationed in the NEI so mistreated POWs in their custody. Those who had surrendered to the Japanese—regardless of how courageously or honorably they had fought—merited nothing but contempt; they had forfeited all honor and literally deserved nothing. Consequently, when the Japanese murdered POWs by shooting, beheading, and drowning, these acts were excused since they involved the killing of men who had forfeited all rights to be treated with dignity or respect. While civilian internees were certainly in a different category from POWs, it is reasonable to think that there was a "spill-over" effect from the tenets of Bushido.   It is very true, the Japanese soldiers and sailors were taught Japan was a sacred nation. Traditional samurai values of bushido were merged with modern training and weaponry. The government propagandized the figure of the Emperor as a living god who embodied the Japanese state, the Kokutai. Emperor Hirohito and his family were the spiritual essence of Japan. To even show your back to the enemy let alone surrender was deemed cowardly and brought dishonor upon your family. As written by Inouye Jukichi in 1910, something read by many Japanese “The Japanese warriors looked upon it as shame to themselves not to die when their Lord was hard pressed . . . their own shame was the shame upon their parents, their family, their house and their whole clan, and with this idea deeply impressed upon their minds, the Samurai, no matter of what rank, held their lives light as feathers when compared with the weight they attached to the maintenance of a spotless name”.    Young men of Japan were taught that "The greatest honor is to die for the Emperor" Additionally precept the Japanese were taught that it is an ignominy to surrender to the enemy. The combined effect of these two precepts was to inculcate in the Japanese soldier a spirit of contempt for Allied soldiers who surrendered, which, in defiance of the rules of war, was demonstrated in their ill-treatment of prisoners. They made no distinction between the soldier who fought honorably and courageously up to an inevitable surrender, and the soldier who surrendered without a fight. All enemy soldiers who surrendered under any circumstance were to be regarded as being disgraced and entitled to live only by the tolerance of their captors.   Surrender was unforgivable under their code, drilled into them through the Imperial Japanese education system and military. When the Japanese would come across vast swathes of the enemy surrendering, particularly if the enemy used up all their ammunition killing their comrades and then surrendered, well it added fuel to their brutality. One only needs to look at the deaths due to Banzai charges, take for example the incredibly massive one at the battle of Saipan seeing around 4000 dead Japanese. IJA officers brought ancestral katana's to the war, the Japanese cut off the heads of the enemies as it was seen to be honorable. When faced with death, many chose to commit seppuku, the bushido propaganda was intense.    A brutal practice emerged in the Pacific island hopping campaign, whereupon wounded Japanese would pretend to be dead or surrender only to explode grenades upon allied forces coming closer. This began to be noticed by US marines during the battle of Guadalcanal and Australians in New Guinea. This began a vicious cycle . There were of course Japanese who would surrender. Hell the Koreans forced into service often did try to surrender, but they would all be hampered by something. Because of the actions of those Japanese feinted death and taking down allied soldiers with them, the allied soldiers gradually began a practice of not bothering to accept surrender. It became a self fulfilling prophecy. Many Japanese made the allies believe all they could expect was a grenade death, thus the allies became more brutal to them. This simply led the Japanese to conclude their government was accurate about how the allies would treat them, so more and more did not surrender. An absolutely horrible cycle that went on to the very end of the war, though the allies did figure out means to get Japanese to surrender more in the last year.    The Brutality of the Japanese military   I think this is probably one of the most important factors, and its also one the “normies” would not know as much about. The Imperial Japanese military, more so the Army, had what I can only describe as a built in system of abuse. As described to me by the same university professor I keep bringing up in podcasts, picture a literal pecking order. Going from the highest ranked general to the very bottom grunt. Imagine each one who is higher than the other, routinely physically abuses them. For example, it was very typical for a colonel to slap a major across the face, the major would then strike one of his captains, and the abuse would continue through the ranks to the grunts who would have no one to abuse, thus they turned to POW's or civilian populations. This was not just an accepted part of the Japanese Imperial Army it was indoctrinated.    From day one of basic training, IJA officers taught their men, races like the Chinese were their blood enemies and racially inferior. These were people the Japanese would rule over one day. The trainers would toss the boys into rigorous training activities involving physical violence towards another alongside the notion any orders given by a higher ranking officer was infallible and to be treated as if the divine emperor himself, the living god was giving it.    The Japanese army even taught methods of torture that would be employed in all areas they occupied. Among these tortures were the water treatment, burning, electric shocks, the knee spread, suspension, kneeling on sharp instruments and flogging. The Kempetai, were the ones doing the lionshare of these tortures. Other Army and Navy units, however, used the same methods as the Kempetai. Camp guards performed similar methods, local police forces organized by the Kempetai in the occupied territories also applied the same methods of torture. The Kempetai were administered by the War Ministry, trained at specialized schools who were maintained and operated by the War Ministry in Japan. Thus the conduct of Kempetai and the camp guards directly reflected the policy of the War Ministry.    The Japanese army leadership made sure recruits were physically and mentally abused, they were given strenuously duty tasks and pushed to their absolute limit. During the war given where they were deployed, take guadalcanal for example, the Japanese soldiers would be facing starvation as well. Being half starved, beaten and suffering the effects of war would drive anyone to perform horrifying acts. The life of a Japanese solider was simply at the whims of an extremely toxic management culture. The lowest ranking echelons received the lionshare of abuse and they took out their frustration with whomever they could find deemed lower than them, ie: POW's, civilians, etc.   All of these variables combined contributed to the creation of a military willing to perform just about any atrocity they thought necessary to win the war. It was a war they could not hope to win, but many of them went to their deaths trying to defeat the hands of fate. There are countless other reasons of course for the atrocities committed in cold or hot blood. Countless books have been written on this subject, please do check out the few I mentioned. With that again, a big thanks to you patreons, you guys are awesome. Please let me know what you think in the comments, and what you want to hear more about in the future. This has been the pacific war channel over and out.

Last time we spoke about the battle of Nanjing. In December 1937, as the battle for Nanjing unfolded, terror inundated its residents, seeking safety amid the turmoil. General Tang Shengzhi rallied the Chinese forces, determined to defend against the advancing Japanese army. Fierce fighting erupted at the Gate of Enlightenment, where the determined Chinese soldiers resisted merciless assaults while tragedy loomed. By mid-December, the Japanese made substantial advances, employing relentless artillery fire to breach Nanjing's defenses. Leaders called for strategic retreats, yet amid chaos and despair, many young Chinese soldiers, driven by nationalism, continued to resist. By December 13, Nanjing succumbed to the invaders, marking a tragic chapter in history. As destruction enveloped the city, the resilience of its defenders became a poignant tale of courage amidst the horrors of war, forever marking Nanjing as a symbol of enduring hope in the face of despair.   #168 The Nanjing Massacre 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 obvious disclaimer, today we will be talking about, arguably one of if not the most horrific war atrocities ever committed. To be blunt, it may have been worse than some of the things we talked about back during the fall of the Ming Dynasty, when bandit armies raped and pillaged cities. The Nanjing Massacre as its become known is well documented by both Chinese and foreign sources. There is an abundance of primary sources, many well verified. Its going to be extremely graphic, I am going to try and tell it to the fullest. So if you got a weak stomach perhaps sit this one out, you have been warned. Chen Yiding began evacuating his troops from the area surrounding the Gate of Enlightenment before dawn on December 13. En route to Xiaguan, he took the time to visit a dozen of his soldiers housed in a makeshift hospital located in an old cemetery. These men were too severely injured to participate in the evacuation, and Chen had to leave them with only a few words of encouragement. Little did he know, within days, they would all perish in their beds, victims of the Japanese forces. Upon arriving in Xiaguan later that morning, Chen was met with grim news: his divisional commander had crossed the Yangtze River with his chief of staff the previous afternoon. Now, he was on his own. He didn't linger near the riverside chaos, quickly realizing there was nothing he could do there. Instead, he chose to move downstream, hoping to find a secure spot for himself and his soldiers to wait out the next few days before devising an escape from the war zone.  He was fortunate, for soon the Japanese would live up to their notorious reputation developed during their advance from Shanghai; they were not inclined to take prisoners. That afternoon, several hundred Chinese soldiers arrived at the northern end of the Safety Zone. The committee responsible for the area stated that they could offer no assistance. In a misguided attempt to boost morale, they suggested that if the soldiers surrendered and promised not to engage in combat, the Japanese would likely show them "merciful treatment." This optimism was woefully misplaced. Later that same day, Japanese troops entered the zone, dragging out 200 Chinese men, the majority of them soldiers, for execution just outside the city. On December 13, Japanese soldiers started patrolling the riverbank, shooting at anything and anyone floating downstream. Their comrades aboard naval vessels in the river cheered them on, applauding each time they struck another helpless victim in the water. Civilians were not spared either. While traveling through downtown Nanjing as the battle concluded, Rabe observed dead men and women every 100 to 200 yards, most of them shot in the back. A long line of Chinese men marched down the street, numbering in the hundreds, all destined for death. In a cruel twist, they were compelled to carry a large Japanese flag. They were herded into a vacant lot by a couple of Japanese soldiers and as recalled by American correspondent Archibald Steele "There, they were brutally shot dead in small groups. One Japanese soldier stood over the growing pile of corpses, firing into any bodies that showed movement." The killings commenced almost immediately after the fall of Nanjing. The victorious Japanese spread out into the city streets, seeking victims. Those unfortunate enough to be captured faced instant execution or were taken to larger killing fields to meet a grim fate alongside other Chinese prisoners. Initially, the Japanese targeted former soldiers, whether real or imagined, but within hours, the scope of victims expanded to include individuals of all age groups and genders. By the end of the first day of occupation, civilian bodies littered the streets of downtown Nanjing at a rate of roughly one per block. The defenseless and innocent were subjected to murder, torture, and humiliation in a relentless spree of violence that persisted for six harrowing weeks. At the time of the attack, Nanjing felt eerily abandoned, houses stood boarded up, vehicles lay toppled in the streets, and the once-ubiquitous rickshaws had vanished. However, hundreds of thousands remained hidden indoors, seeking refuge. The most visible sign of the city's new rulers was the display of the Japanese flag. On the morning of December 14, the Rising Sun flag was hoisted across the city, seen in front of private homes, businesses, and public buildings. Many of these flags were hastily made, often a simple white sheet with a red rag affixed, hoping to be spared. As the days progressed, horrifying accounts of violence began to emerge. A barber, the sole survivor among eight people in his shop when the Japanese arrived, was admitted to a hospital with a stab wound that had nearly severed his head from his body, damaging all muscles at the back of his neck down to his spinal canal. A woman suffered a brutal throat wound, while another pregnant woman was bayoneted in the abdomen, resulting in the death of her unborn child. A man witnessed his wife being stabbed through the heart and then saw his child hurled from a window to the street several floors below. These are but a few stories of individual atrocities committed. Alongside this there were mass executions, predominantly targeting young able-bodied men, in an effort to weaken Nanjing and deprive it of any potential resistance in the future. American professor, Lewis Smythe recalled “The disarmed soldier problem was our most serious one for the first three days, but it was soon resolved, as the Japanese shot all of them.” On the evening of December 15, the Japanese rounded up 1,300 former soldiers from the Safety Zone, binding them in groups of about 100 and marching them away in silence. A group of foreigners, permitted to leave Nanjing on a Japanese gunboat, accidentally became witnesses to the ensuing slaughter. While waiting for their vessel, they took a brief walk along the riverbank and stumbled upon a scene of mass execution, observing the Japanese shooting the men one by one in the back of the neck. “We observed about 100 such executions until the Japanese officer in charge noticed us and ordered us to leave immediately”. Not all killings were premeditated; many occurred impulsively. A common example was when Japanese soldiers led lines of Chinese POWs to holding points, tightly bound together with ropes. Every few yards, a Japanese soldier would stand guard with a fixed bayonet aimed at the prisoners as they trudged forward. Suddenly, one of the prisoners slipped, causing a domino effect as he fell, dragging down the men in front of and behind him. The entire group soon found themselves collapsed on the ground, struggling to stand. The Japanese guards lost their patience, jabbing their bayonets into the writhing bodies until none remained alive. In one of the largest massacres, Japanese troops from the Yamada Detachment, including the 65th Infantry Regiment, systematically executed between 17,000 and 20,000 Chinese prisoners from December 15 to 17. These prisoners were taken to the banks of the Yangtze River near Mufushan, where they were machine-gunned to death. The bodies were then disposed of by either burning or flushing them downstream. Recent research by Ono Kenji has revealed that these mass killings were premeditated and carried out systematically, in accordance with orders issued directly by Prince Asaka. A soldier from the IJA's 13th Division described killing wounded survivors of the Mufushan massacre in his diary “I figured that I'd never get another chance like this, so I stabbed thirty of the damned Chinks. Climbing atop the mountain of corpses, I felt like a real devil-slayer, stabbing again and again, with all my might. 'Ugh, ugh,' the Chinks groaned. There were old folks as well as kids, but we killed them lock, stock, and barrel. I also borrowed a buddy's sword and tried to decapitate some. I've never experienced anything so unusual”. Frequently, the Japanese just left their victims wherever they fell. Corpses began to accumulate in the streets, exposed to the elements and onlookers. Cars constantly were forced to run over corpses. Corpses were scavenged by stray dogs, which, in turn, were consumed by starving people. The water became toxic; workers in the Safety Zone discovered ponds clogged with human remains. In other instances, the Japanese gathered their machine-gunned or bayoneted victims into large heaps, doused them in kerosene, and set them ablaze. Archibald Steele wrote for the Chicago Daily News on December 17th “I saw a grisly scene at the north gate, where what was once a group of 200 men had become a smoldering mass of flesh and bones, so severely burned around the neck and head that it was difficult to believe he was still human.” During the chaos in the beginning, whereupon the Japanese had not yet fully conquered the city, its defenders scrambled desperately to escape before it was too late. Individually or in small groups, they sought vulnerabilities in the enemy lines, acutely aware that their survival hinged on their success. Months of conflict had trained them to expect no mercy if captured; previous experiences had instilled in them the belief that a swift death at the hands of the Japanese would be a fortunate outcome. On December 12, amid intense artillery fire and aerial bombardment, General Tang Sheng-chi issued the order for his troops to retreat. However, conflicting directives and a breakdown in discipline transformed the ensuing events into a disaster. While some Chinese units successfully crossed the river, a far greater number were ensnared in the widespread chaos that engulfed the city. In their desperation to evade capture, some Chinese soldiers resorted to stripping civilians of their clothing to disguise themselves, while many others were shot by their own supervisory units as they attempted to flee.Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of individual escape stories emerged from this period. In some rare instances, entire units, even up to divisional strength, successfully infiltrated Japanese lines to reach safety. For others, such as the 156th Division, there were detailed plans outlining escape routes from Nanjing. Several soldiers and officers adhered to this three-day trek, skillfully evading Japanese patrols until they reached Ningguo, located south of the capital. Nonetheless, these cases were exceptions. The vast majority of soldiers from China's defeated army faced significant risk and were more likely to be captured than to escape. Some of Chiang Kai-shek's most elite units suffered near total annihilation. Only about a thousand soldiers from the 88th Division managed to cross the Yangtze safely, as did another thousand from the Training Division, while a mere 300 from the 87th Division survived. Even for units like the 156th Division, the escape plans were only effective for those who learned of them. These plans were hurriedly disseminated through the ranks as defeat loomed, leaving mere chance to determine who received the information. Many stayed trapped in Nanjing, which had become a fatal snare. One day, Japanese soldiers visited schools within Nanjing's Safety Zone, aware that these locations sheltered many refugees. They called for all former soldiers to step forward, promising safety in exchange for labor. Many believed that the long days of hiding were finally coming to an end and complied with the request. However, they were led to an abandoned house, where they were stripped naked and bound together in groups of five. Outside, a large bonfire had been ignited. They were then bayoneted and, while still alive, thrown onto the flames. Only a few managed to escape and share the horrifying tale. The Japanese were of course well aware that numerous soldiers were hiding in Nanjing, disguised as locals, evidenced by the piles of military uniforms and equipment accumulating in the streets. Consequently, they initiated a systematic search for soldiers within hours of taking control. The Safety Zone was not spared, as the Japanese Army suspected that Chinese soldiers had sought refuge there. On December 16, they raided Ginling College, despite a policy prohibiting the admission of men, except for elderly residents in a designated dining room. The soldiers brought axes to force open doors that were not immediately complied with and positioned six machine guns on the campus, prepared to fire at anyone attempting to escape. Ultimately, they found nothing. In cases where they did encounter young men of military age, the soldiers lined them up, scrutinizing for distinct telltale features such as close-cropped hair, helmet marks, or shoulder blisters from carrying a rifle. Many men, who had never served in the military but bore callouses from hard manual labor, were captured based on the assumption that such marks indicated military experience. As noted by Goerge Fitch the head of Nanjing's YMCA “Rickshaw coolies, carpenters, and other laborers are frequently taken”. The Japanese employed additional, more cunning tactics to root out soldiers. During an inspection of a camp within the Safety Zone, they struggled to get the approximately 6,000 men and women to surrender. Before leaving, they resorted to one last trick. “Attention!” a voice commanded in flawless Chinese. Many young men, conditioned by months or years of military training, instinctively responded. Even though most realized their mistake almost immediately, it was too late; the Japanese herded them away. Given the scale of the slaughter, efforts were soon organized to facilitate the killing and disposal of as many individuals as possible in the shortest time. Rows of prisoners were mowed down by machine-gun fire, while those injured were finished off with single bullets or bayonets. Much of the mass murder occurred near the Yangtze River, where victims could be disposed of easily by being pushed into the water, hoping the current would carry them away.As the weeks progressed and the Japanese grew increasingly concerned about the possibility of former soldiers still at large, the dragnet tightened. Beginning in late December, Japanese authorities implemented a registration system for all residents of Nanjing. At Ginling College, this process lasted about a week and resulted in scenes of almost indescribable chaos, as the Japanese also decided to register residents from the surrounding areas on campus. First, the men were registered, followed by the women. Often, women attended the registration to help save their husbands and sons, who would otherwise have been taken as suspected former soldiers. Despite these efforts, a total of 28 men were ultimately seized during the registration process at Ginling College. Each individual who registered received a document from the authorities. However, it soon became clear that this paper provided little protection against the caprices of the Japanese military. That winter in Nanjing, everyone was a potential victim. While systematic mass killings primarily targeted young men of military age, every category of people faced death in the days and weeks following the Japanese conquest of Nanjing. Reports indicated that fifty police officers from the Safety Zone were executed for permitting Chinese soldiers to enter the area. The city's firefighters were taken away to meet an uncertain fate, and six street sweepers were killed inside their dwelling. Like an uncontrollable epidemic, the victors' bloodlust seemed to escalate continuously, seeking out new victims. When the Japanese ordered the Safety Zone committee to supply workers for the electricity plant in Xiaguan to restore its operations, they provided 54 individuals. Within days, 43 of them were dead. Although young men were especially targeted, the Japanese made no distinctions based on age or sex. American missionary John G. Magee documented numerous instances of indiscriminate killings, including the chilling account of two families nearly exterminated. Stabbings, shootings, and rapes marked the slaughter of three generations of innocents, including toddlers aged four and two; the older child was bayoneted, while the younger was struck in the head with a sword. The only survivors were a badly injured eight-year-old girl and her four-year-old sister, who spent the following fortnight beside their mother's decaying body. The violence was often accompanied by various forms of humiliation, as if to utterly break the spirit of the conquered people. One woman lost her parents and three children. When she purchased a coffin for her father, a Japanese soldier tore the lid off and discarded the old man's body in the street. Another soldier, in a drunken stupor, raped a Chinese woman and then vomited on her. In yet another incident, a soldier encountered a family of six huddled over a pot of thin rice soup; he stepped over them and urinated into their pot before continuing on his way, laughing heartlessly. The atrocities committed at Nanjing were not akin to something like the Holocaust. Within places like Auschwitz killings became industrialized and often took on an impersonal, unemotional character. The murders in Nanjing had an almost intimate quality, with each individual perpetrator bearing the blood of their victims on their hands, sometimes literally. In this sense, the Nanjing atrocities resemble the early Holocaust killings executed by German Einsatzgruppen in Eastern Europe, prior to the implementation of gas chambers. How many died during the Nanjing Massacre? Eyewitnesses at the time recognized that the Japanese behavior had few immediate precedents. Missionary John Magee compared the situation to the Turkish genocide of the Armenians during World War I, which was still fresh in memory. Despite this, no consensus emerged regarding the exact number of fatalities, a state of affairs that would persist for nearly eight decades. In his first comprehensive account of the atrocities following the conquest of the capital, New York Times correspondent Tillman Durdin reported that 33,000 Chinese soldiers lost their lives in Nanjing, including 20,000 who were executed. Foreign correspondent Frank Oliver claimed in a 1939 publication that 24,000 men, women, and children were put to death during the first month of the city's occupation. As time progressed, much larger figures began to circulate. After returning to Germany in 1938, John Rabe held a lecture where he cited European estimates that between 50,000 and 60,000 people had died. In February 1942, Chiang Kai-shek stated that 200,000 were slaughtered within one week. The Nanjing tribunal established by Chiang's government to try Japanese war criminals in 1946 and 1947 reported that more than 300,000 lives had been lost following the city's fall. The highest estimate recorded comes from a Chinese military expert, who put the death toll at 430,000. Currently, the figure most commonly accepted in official Chinese media is 300,000, a number also cited by various authors sympathetic to China's contemporary regime. The debate over the Nanjing death toll has been a complex and extensive discussion, likely to remain unresolved to everyone's satisfaction. As missionary and Nanjing University teacher Miner Searle Bates remarked when he testified before the International Military Tribunal for the Far East in July 1946, “The scope of this killing was so extensive that no one can provide a complete picture of it.” On December 16, American missionary Minnie Vautrin witnessed a truck passing by Ginling College, loaded with eight to ten girls. When they saw the Western woman, they cried out, "Jiu ming! Jiu ming!" which means “Help! Help!” Vautrin felt powerless, fully aware of the fate that awaited them. As early as Tuesday of that week, she had documented rumors of girls being raped. The following night, women were taken in large numbers from their homes. Another missionary, John Magee wrote to his wife “The most horrible thing now is the raping of the women, which has been going on in the most shameless way I have ever known”. A tentative list compiled by Lewis Smythe detailed instances of rape occurring soon after the Japanese Army entered Nanjing: four girls at noon on December 14; four more women that evening; three female refugees on December 15; and a young wife around the same time. The accounts revealed chilling individual horrors. A 15-year-old girl was taken to a barracks housing 200 to 300 Japanese soldiers and locked in a room, where she was raped multiple times daily. Victims ranged from as young as 11 to over 80. American correspondent Edgar Snow recalled “Discards were often bayoneted by drunken soldiers,. Frequently, mothers had to witness their babies being beheaded, only to then be raped themselves.” Y.M.C.A. head George Fitch reported the case of a woman whose five-month-old infant was deliberately smothered by a soldier to silence its cries while he raped her. Such acts were a gruesome form of humiliation, designed to demonstrate that the vanquished were powerless to protect their own families. Japanese soldier Takokoro Kozo recalled “Women suffered most. No matter how young or old, they all could not escape the fate of being raped. We sent out coal trucks to the city streets and villages to seize a lot of women. And then each of them was allocated to fifteen to twenty soldiers for sexual intercourse and abuse. After raping we would also kill them”. Women were frequently killed immediately after being raped, often through horrific mutilations, such as being penetrated with bayonets, long bamboo sticks, or other objects. For instance, one six-months-pregnant woman was stabbed sixteen times in the face and body, with one stab penetrating her abdomen and killing her unborn child. In another case, a young woman had a beer bottle forcibly inserted into her vagina after being raped, and was subsequently shot.  On December 19, 1937, the Reverend James M. McCallum wrote in his diary “I know not where to end. Never I have heard or read such brutality. Rape! Rape! Rape! We estimate at least 1,000 cases a night and many by day. In case of resistance or anything that seems like disapproval, there is a bayonet stab or a bullet... People are hysterical... Women are being carried off every morning, afternoon and evening. The whole Japanese army seems to be free to go and come as it pleases, and to do whatever it pleases”.  Rabe wrote in his diary dated December 17 “wo Japanese soldiers have climbed over the garden wall and are about to break into our house. When I appear they give the excuse that they saw two Chinese soldiers climb over the wall. When I show them my party badge, they return the same way. In one of the houses in the narrow street behind my garden wall, a woman was raped, and then wounded in the neck with a bayonet. I managed to get an ambulance so we can take her to Kulou Hospital... Last night up to 1,000 women and girls are said to have been raped, about 100 girls at Ginling College...alone. You hear nothing but rape. If husbands or brothers intervene, they're shot. What you hear and see on all sides is the brutality and bestiality of the Japanese soldiers”. In a documentary film about the Nanjing Massacre, In the Name of the Emperor, a former Japanese soldier named Shiro Azuma spoke candidly about the process of rape and murder in Nanjing. “At first we used some kinky words like Pikankan. Pi means "hip", kankan means "look". Pikankan means, "Let's see a woman open up her legs." Chinese women didn't wear under-pants. Instead, they wore trousers tied with a string. There was no belt. As we pulled the string, the buttocks were exposed. We "pikankan". We looked. After a while we would say something like, "It's my day to take a bath," and we took turns raping them. It would be all right if we only raped them. I shouldn't say all right. But we always stabbed and killed them. Because dead bodies don't talk”. Without anyone to defend them, the women of Nanjing resorted to desperate measures for their safety. The young and attractive cut their hair and smeared soot on their faces to diminish their allure. Others donned boys' clothes or the garments of elderly women. However, the Japanese were well aware of these tactics and were not easily deceived. As American correspondent Snow described, it was an orgy of unprecedented debauchery, involving not only the lower ranks of the Japanese military but also officers who turned their quarters into harems, bedding a new captive each night. Open-air sexual assaults were common. During the first ten days of occupation, groups of Japanese soldiers entered the Ginling campus ten to twenty times daily, brandishing fixed bayonets stained with fresh blood. So overwhelmed, Vautrin decided to prioritize saving lives over salvaging possessions, spending those early days frantically moving across campus to prevent marauding soldiers from taking away women. A particularly tense situation unfolded on the evening of December 17, when Vautrin and other staff members at Ginling College were called to the front of the campus to confront a group of Japanese soldiers. Earlier, Vautrin had received documentation from another officer affirming that the area was a legitimate refugee camp. The soldiers torn up the document in front of her. For hours, with armed Japanese soldiers encircling them, Vautrin and her colleagues were left standing or kneeling, uncertain of what awaited them. Gradually, it became clear that they had been lured to the front gate so that other soldiers could enter through a side entrance and abduct twelve women. As Vautrin recalled “Never shall I forget the scene. The dried leaves rattling, the moaning of the wind, the cries of women being led away.” The staff remained at the entrance until 11:00 pm, fearing that hiding soldiers might fire on them if they moved. This was the only time that Vautrin was unable to prevent rape, a failure that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Some Japanese soldiers, seeking young girls, ordered a middle-aged Chinese woman to assist them in finding targets. When she either could not or would not comply, they shot a rifle across her abdomen, narrowly missing and taking away “three handbreadths of flesh.” When the Japanese Army entered Nanjing, little damage had been inflicted on the buildings, as noted by U.S. missionary James McCallum at the end of December. On the first day of their occupation, Japanese soldiers immediately dispersed into Nanjing in small groups, breaking shop windows and looting the goods within. They carried away their spoils in crates and stolen rickshaws. Initially, the looting was partly a makeshift response to the poor logistics of the Japanese Army. Combat soldiers had arrived well ahead of their supply lines and faced severe food shortages until the roads reopened and the Yangtze River became navigable.  Every building in Nanjing was looted and turned upside down. Everything not nailed down was stolen: doors and window frames were removed, safes opened with rifle shots or grenades. Japanese soldiers often pillaged property while the owners were present, threatening them with bayonets. Abandoned cars littered the streets, typically overturned and stripped of useful items, including batteries. Like Russian soldiers in Berlin seven and a half years later, the rank-and-file soldiers displayed a particular interest in watches. As the scale of plunder grew, transportation became scarce. By the end of December, looting was being conducted using trucks. When vehicles were unavailable, Japanese soldiers resorted to wheelbarrows and even children's prams. Mules, donkeys, and people were also commandeered. Just as during their advance from Shanghai to Nanjing, the Chinese were forced to assist in looting their own homes. A common sight was a Japanese soldier leading a group of Chinese down the street, laden with stolen goods. While Chinese soldiers had also engaged in some looting during their evacuation of Nanjing, it was nothing compared to the scale of the Japanese victors' plunder. The Chinese forces had deliberately avoided breaking into foreign buildings, a distinction that the Japanese disregarded. The American, British, and German embassies, along with the ambassadors' residences, were ransacked, stripped of everything from bedding and money to watches, rugs, and artwork. The American School was looted, and its wall breached to remove the piano. As the Japanese stripped the city, they also began to burn it. While the winter sky could have been sparkling, it was instead filled with smoke from thousands of fires across the city. Some fires resulted from carelessness, such as when soldiers cooked meat from a stolen cow over a bonfire, accidentally igniting an ancient building. Others were acts of mindless vandalism. The Nanking Music Shop saw all its instruments and sheets piled in the street and set ablaze. The extent of the massacre can, to some degree, be linked to a breakdown in discipline among Japanese soldiers. Released from weeks or months of hardship on the battlefield, many soldiers experienced an intoxicating sense of freedom, resembling misbehaving boys. The deterioration of order among Japanese soldiers astonished those familiar with the stories of the stringent discipline within Japan's armed forces. Observers commented on soldiers laughing at proclamations from their own officers or tearing up orders and tossing them to the ground. Some foreign witnesses speculated that this lack of discipline was exacerbated by the absence of visible individual numbers on soldiers, making it challenging to identify wrongdoers. The issue also stemmed from the quality of the Japanese officer corps and their ability to manage a large army of young men, many of whom were experiencing freedom from societal constraints for the first time. Not all officers rose to the occasion; Vautrin witnessed an officer almost fail to prevent a soldier from raping a girl. Even worse, some officers transitioned from passive bystanders, guilty by inaction, to active participants in prolonged rape sessions. While a few attempted to instill discipline among their troops, their efforts often fell short. A Japanese colonel, for instance, slapped a soldier attempting to rape a Chinese woman. Another general was seen striking a private who had bayoneted a Chinese man and threatened two Germans, raising questions about how much of this discipline was merely performative for the benefit of foreign observers. Ultimately, disciplinary measures had little impact. As Rabe noted in his diary dated December 18th “The soldiers have almost no regard for their officers”. The absence of effective higher leadership during this critical period likely exacerbated the problem. General Matsui had been suffering from malaria since November 3, which left him largely incapacitated from December 5 to 15. A subordinate later testified that he had been informed of "incidents of stealing, killing, assault, and rape and had become quite enraged.” Although Matsui may have been displeased by the unruly behavior of his soldiers, it is conceivable that his inaction led to even greater levels of atrocity than might have occurred otherwise. He insisted on holding a victory parade on December 17, immediately after recovering from his illness, which likely triggered a security frenzy among Japanese officers concerned about the safety of Prince Asaka, uncle to Emperor Hirohito. This reaction likely prompted a surge in searches for, and executions of, suspected former Chinese soldiers. The Japanese high command in Tokyo was also aware of the unraveling discipline. On January 4, 1938, Army Headquarters sent Matsui an unusually direct message ordering him to restore control among his troops: Our old friend Ishiwara Kanji bitterly criticized the situation and placed the blame on Matsui “We earnestly request enhancement of military discipline and public morals. The morale of the Japanese had never been at a lower level.” A detachment of military police eventually arrived in Nanjing, leading to some improvements, though their presence was mixed. Some officers stationed outside the Safety Zone ignored atrocities occurring before them and, in some cases, participated directly. At Ginling College, the experience with military police was decidedly uneven. The first group of about 25 men tasked with guarding the college ended up committing rape themselves.  Despite frequent visits from Japanese soldiers in search of loot and victims to assault, the Safety Zone was perceived as successful. Many believed that both the zone and the work of its managing committee were responsible for saving countless lives. W. Plumer Mills, vice chairman of the committee, noted that the zone “did give some protection during the fighting…but the chief usefulness of the Zone has been the measure of protection it has afforded to the people since the occupation.” Shortly after the Japanese conquest, the population of the Safety Zone swelled to a quarter million people. Around 70,000 of these were organized into 25 pre-arranged camps, while the majority sought accommodation wherever possible. Makeshift “mat-shed villages” sprang up in vacant areas throughout the zone. Nanjing quickly became informally divided into two distinct cities. Outside the Safety Zone, the atmosphere was ghostly, with a population dwindling to around 10,000, while within the zone, bustling activity thrived. Shanghai Road, which ran through the center of the zone and had once been a wide boulevard, transformed into a hub of barter and trade, resembling a festive market during Chinese New Year, overflowing with makeshift stalls, tea shops, and restaurants, making it nearly impossible to traverse by vehicle. The Japanese held a degree of respect for Westerners, although this sentiment was not universal and did not always offer protection. Many foreigners tried to safeguard their homes by displaying their national flags outside, but they often found that Japanese soldiers would break in regardless. To protect Ginling College, American flags were displayed at eight locations around the compound, and a large 30-foot American flag was spread out in the center. However, this proved to be “of absolutely no use” in preventing Japanese soldiers from entering the area. Despite this, there was some limited outright hostility towards Americans. Stronger negative sentiments were directed towards the Russians and the British, who were viewed as representatives of nations with competing interests against the Japanese Empire. The Japanese displayed particular reverence for one nationality, the Germans. Rabe would shout “Deutsch” or “Hitler” to command respect from unruly Japanese soldiers or show them his swastika armband, indicating his allegiance to the Nazi Party. Germany was seen as a rising power and rapidly becoming one of Japan's closest allies, a fellow outcast in global politics. However, as time passed, the limits of this respect became evident; individual soldiers began searching for women within the German embassy compound, and eventually, nearly all German buildings were broken into. Despite all the challenges, there was no doubting that foreigners offered a form of protection unavailable elsewhere. Within days of the Japanese conquest, women and children began appearing in large numbers outside Rabe's home, kneeling and knocking their heads on the ground as they begged to be let into his already overcrowded garden.  At 1:00 pm on January 1, the Chinese were proclaimed rulers of their own city, or at least this is what Japanese propaganda sought to convey. On the first day of the new year, a puppet government was established in a ceremony held just north of the Safety Zone. A new five-bar flag, the one associated with the early Chinese republic was raised, signaling a patriotic spirit in a gesture that felt unconvincing. As the new leaders took office, vowing to resurrect their city, buildings burned all around them. The ceremony marked the culmination of two weeks of preparatory work. As early as December 15, General Matsui met with a local Chinese leader, referred to in the Japanese commander's diary only as Chen, who had been selected to assist in forming this new puppet government. Chen had been present in the northern port city of Tianjin two years earlier when Matsui helped establish the Chinese chapter of the Greater Asia Association. He subscribed to Matsui's concepts of “Asia for Asians,” but cautioned that Chinese fears of the Japanese would complicate the governance of the conquered territories.   The new government aligned with the Japanese army to implement a system of indoctrination centered on conservatism, primarily targeting the youth, who were perceived as most likely to resist. The indoctrination included messages like, “You must follow the old custom in marriage, letting your parents make arrangements for you. You must not go to theaters or study English, etc. China and Japan must become one, and then the nation will be strong.” Few were deceived by these attempts to win hearts and minds. The government-sanctioned newspaper, the Xinshengbao, or New Life Journal, was immediately dismissed as a crude vehicle for propaganda. Additionally, the government made minimal progress in more urgent tasks, such as restoring peacetime conditions and revitalizing Nanjing's economy, a challenge made formidable by Japanese brutality. Given the fate of the first group of volunteers at the electricity plant after the conquest, no one could be found to fill the needed 40 to 45 worker slots. The same was true for firefighters. The predictable outcomes followed. Water and limited power were restored to parts of the city by January 2, but within two days, the city was plunged back into darkness. By January 13, the waterworks were still non-operational, and the power supply remained intermittent while fires continued to blaze well into January. The government was not taken seriously, struggling even with the Japanese. It quickly built a reputation for being venal and corrupt. One of its names was the Nanjing Autonomous Government, which a clever member of the foreign community humorously rebranded as the “Automatic Government,” reflecting its actual role as a puppet regime devoid of autonomy.  While Nanjing endured its own nightmarish reality, the city's inhabitants had little understanding of the events transpiring beyond its walls. The first radio news that reached foreign residents came on January 7, reporting Japanese air raids on Wuhan. There were also unconfirmed rumors suggesting that Hangzhou was experiencing similar horrors to those in Nanjing, but details were scarce. It was perhaps expected that reports from afar would be limited in wartime, yet information about situations closer to Nanjing was similarly scarce, and the horrific truth gradually dawned on the city's populace. A Westerner who managed to escape east from Nanjing in early January reported that all villages within a 20-mile radius had been burned to the ground. Outside the city, Japanese soldiers were randomly shooting civilians, including children. A German who drove an hour from Nanjing encountered no living souls. After the conquest, Chinese who managed to leave Nanjing reported that every pond between the city and Juyong was filled with the decaying corpses of people and animals. Many of the atrocities committed during this time appeared to stem from boredom and a search for cheap thrills. American missionary Magee witnessed a young farmer who had sustained severe burns on his upper body. After the soldiers demanded money from him and he failed to comply, they doused him in kerosene and set him ablaze. Similarly, a young boy suffered horrific burns after he failed to lead a group of soldiers to his “mama.” People in the rural areas surrounding Nanjing faced danger from numerous directions. Not only were they potential targets for marauding Japanese soldiers, but they were also at risk from bands of Chinese outlaws, who preyed on the large influx of refugees on the roads and the few souls who remained at home despite the fierce conflict raging nearby. Magee encountered a 49-year-old woman whose home was invaded by bandits looking for money. “When she and her husband said they had none they battered her head and breast with a stool and burned her feet until she revealed their savings of between four and five dollars.” In the absence of a formal government, informal authority was often wielded by secret societies. For instance, the “Big Sword Society” reportedly offered protection not only against Japanese soldiers and local bandits but also against small groups of Chinese troops seeking to escape back to their lines and resorting to theft for survival. What a blast from the past eh?   Rumors began to circulate in early January 1938 that the Chinese Army was preparing to retake Nanjing and that Chiang Kai-shek's soldiers had already been spotted inside the city walls. Many of the small makeshift Japanese flags that had appeared outside private homes in mid-December suddenly vanished, and some Chinese residents who had been wearing Japanese armbands hastily removed them. There was even talk of launching an attack on the Japanese embassy. Word spread that the Japanese were becoming frightened and were searching for Chinese clothing to disguise themselves as civilians in the event of a retreat. In reality, none of this was true. The Chinese Army was still reorganizing after the costly campaign that had forced it from Shanghai to Nanjing and then further into the interior. However, this did not imply that the Japanese had achieved complete control over the city. After six weeks of terror, Nanjing began to reassert itself. Japanese soldiers faced fatalities and injuries in skirmishes with members of secret organizations like the “Yellow Spears” and the “Big Sword Society.”  After the New Year, the population within the Safety Zone began to dwindle. A week into 1938, the number of refugees at Ginling College, which had peaked at more than 10,000, fell to around 5,000. Less than a month after the conquest, many former residents started returning to their homes during the day and then coming back to the college at night. Still, the city was far from safe, and even for those whose homes were located within the Safety Zone, Vautrin believed it was unwise to stray too far from her refugee camp. One month after Japanese forces had surged through its gates, Nanjing was a thoroughly devastated city, with fires still being set every day and night. By mid-January, estimates suggested that more than half the city had been burned down, with the main shopping district completely gone, as well as the entertainment area surrounding the Confucius Temple. Nevertheless, slowly but surely, the shell-shocked city began to pull itself together and started the long process of renewal. Vautrin considered opening an industrial school offering four-month courses for women to help compensate for the loss of labor resulting from the indiscriminate killing of men. Chinese New Year fell on January 31, 1938. Celebrated throughout Asia, it was also recognized by the Japanese. It was a “dismal, muddy” day, and as many feared, soldiers who appeared “too happy” from excessive drinking attempted to enter the Safety Zone in search of women but were stopped. The sound of thousands of firecrackers filled the air, fulfilling the age-old purpose of scaring away evil spirits. Refugees in Rabe's compound presented him with a large red silk banner adorned with a gold Chinese inscription. His Chinese friends translated the message for him “You are the living Buddha For a hundred thousand people”. 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. In December 1937, the battle for Nanjing left its residents in terror as the Japanese army advanced. Following the invasion, a horrific massacre began, with thousands targeted in brutal killings, torture, and humiliation. Civilians and soldiers alike were indiscriminately slain, and the Japanese military showed no mercy. To this day the Nanjing Massacre stands as a testament to the unbelievable evil man holds within him.

Hello Youtube Members, Patreons and Pacific War week by week listeners. Yes this was intended to be an exclusive episode to join the 29 others over on my Youtube Membership and Patreon, but since we are drawing to the end of the Pacific War week by week series, I felt compelled to make some special episodes to answer some of the bigger questions. Why did Japan, or better said, why did Emperor Hirohito decide to finally surrender? It seems obvious on the face of it, but there is actually a lot more to it than bombs or Soviet invasions. I guess you can call this episode a teaser or a shameless plug for going over to my Youtube Membership or Patreon. There's honestly a lot of interesting subjects such as ‘why was the japanese army so brutal”, “Hirohito's war time responsibility”, “the 4 part Kanji Ishiwara series”. Thus if you liked this one please show some love and check out my other stuff on my Youtube Membership or over at www.patreon.com/pacificwarchannel.   Stating all of that lets just jump right into it.   We first need to start off briefly looking at Emperor Hirohito.    Upon taking the throne, Emperor Hirohito in 1926 Hirohito inherited a financial crisis and a military that was increasingly seizing control of governmental policies. From the beginning, despite what many of you older audience members may have been told, Hirohito intensely followed all military decisions. Hirohito chose when to act and when not to. When the Kwantung Army assassinated Zhang Zuolin, he indulged their insubordination. This emboldened them to invade Manchuria in 1931, whereupon Hirohito was furious and demanded they be reigned in. Attempts were made, but they were heavily undermined by radicals. Hirohito could have put his foot down, but he chose not to. On September 22nd, at 4:20pm Hirohito said to the IJA Chief of General staff, Kanaya Hanzo “although this time it couldn't be helped, the army had to be more careful in the future”. Thus Hirohito again acquiesced to the military, despite wanting them to stop or at least localize the conflict. The military had disregarded his wishes, they should have been severely punished. Why did Hirohito not take a firmer stance?    Again for older audience members you may have heard, “hirohito was a hostage at the whim of his own military”. This narrative made it seem he was some sort of hostage emperor, but this is not the case at all. In fact Hirohito was instrumental in many military decisions from 1931-1945. The reason this, I will call it “myth” , went on was because after Japan's surrender, the US basically rewrote the Japanese constitution and covered up the Emperor's involvement in all the nasty stuff, to maintain control over Japan. Yeah it sounds a bit conspiracy esque, but I assure you it was indeed the case. This narrative held firm all the way until Hirohito's death, when finally meeting notes and personal accounts from those close to him came out, illuminating a lot. Though to this day, many records are still red -tapped.   The reason Hirohito did not stamp his foot down has to do with the Kokutai.    The Kokutai   So before I carry on, I have to explain what exactly is the Kokutai.    The Kokutai, loosely translated as "national essence," refers to the qualities that distinguish the Japanese identity. However, this concept is remarkably vague and poorly defined; even Japanese historians acknowledge this ambiguity. In contrast to Kokutai is seitai, or "form of government." While the Kokutai embodies the eternal and immutable aspects of Japanese polity—rooted in history, traditions, and customs centered around the Emperor—Japan's seitai has evolved significantly throughout its extensive history. For instance, shoguns governed for over 700 years until 1868, when the Meiji Restoration reinstated direct imperial rule.   Nevertheless, Emperor Meiji's direct authority came to an end with the adoption of the Meiji Constitution in 1889, which established a constitutional monarchy, introducing significant complexities into the governance system.   Article 4 of the constitution declares: “The Emperor is the head of the Empire, combining in Himself the rights of sovereignty, uniting the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of government, although subject to the consent of the Imperial Diet.” Under this framework, the Emperor alone possessed the power to appoint or dismiss ministers of state, declare war, negotiate peace, conclude treaties, direct national administration, and command the army and navy.   A glaring flaw in this arrangement is the inherent ambiguity of the Meiji Constitution. While it established a democratic parliament, it simultaneously afforded the Emperor absolute authority to usurp it. The document failed to clearly define the relationships between the executive, legislative, and judicial branches, and its language was intentionally vague. Most critically, the military—the army and navy—were not directly accountable to the civilian government.    So with the kokutai, the Emperor is a divine figure who embodies the state's sovereignty. It was not necessarily the Emperor's job to surrender on behalf of the official government of Japan, but he most certainly could do so, given the Japanese people still remained faithful to the kokutai.    Now Hirohito did not live an ordinary life. According to the imperial custom, Japanese royals were raised apart from their parents, at the age of 3 he was placed in the care of the Kwamura family who vowed to raise him to be unselfish, persevering in the face of difficulties, respectful of the views of others and immune to fear. One thing that was absolutely indoctrinated into him was to defend the kokutai. It became his top mission as a monarch, it was the only mission in many ways. At the very core of how he saw the world and how he acted, it was always to protect the kokutai.    So when the Japanese military began these insubordinate acts, Hirohito's primary concern was to the kokutai, ie: anything that threatened his imperial authority and the imperial institution itself. Although the military usurped his authority, the operations had been successful. Hirohito was not at all opposed to seeing his empire expand. He understood the value of manchuria, he was fully onboard with the military plans to eventually seize control over it, but these radicals were accelerating things to quickly for everyone's liking. He turned a blind eye, dished light punishments and carried on. However the local conflict escalated. It traveled to Shanghai by 1932 and here Hirohito took action. He understood Shanghai was full of western powers. Nations like Britain and America could place economic sanctions on Japan if things were allowed to get out of hand here. So he ordered General Yoshinori Shirakawa to bring the Shanghai expedition to a close.    During this period, two factions emerged within the Japanese military: the Kodoha, or “Imperial Way,” and the Toseiha, or “Control” faction. The Kodoha was founded by General Sadao Araki and his protégé, Jinzaburo Masaki. Their primary objective was a Shōwa Restoration aimed at purging Japan of corrupt politicians and businessmen, especially those associated with the zaibatsu. Composed mainly of young army officers, the Kodoha espoused a romanticized and radical interpretation of Bushido, idealizing pre-industrial Japan, which Araki believed had been tainted by Western influences. To achieve their goals, they resorted to assassinations and planned a coup d'état.   In response, the Toseiha faction was formed, initially led by Lt. General Tetsuzan Nagata and later by Hideki Tojo. Like the Kodoha, the Toseiha sought a Shōwa Restoration but adopted a more moderate and conservative approach. They recognized the importance of preserving traditional values while integrating Western ideals, advocating for a balanced perspective. The Toseiha promoted pragmatic military strategies to navigate the complexities of modern warfare. Although they acknowledged the existence of corrupt politicians and zaibatsu, they preferred to work within the existing political system, anticipating that future total wars would necessitate a strengthened industrial and military capacity. Their ranks primarily included promising graduates from the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) Academy, Army Staff College, and select naval members. The most significant distinction between the two factions was that the Toseiha explicitly rejected the use of a coup d'état in pursuit of their goals.   Between 1932-1936 radical officers, mostly of the Kodoha faction assassinated politicians and military leaders trying to usher in a showa restoration. You might be led to believe this was in the interest of Hirohito, you would be mistaken. Hirohito did not want a military dictatorship at the whim of the cult of the emperor. Ironic to say, given how WW2 turns out mind you. This really would have been a hostage situation. Hirohito wanted to maintain the exact ambiguous situation that was Showa Era Japan pre 1945. He saw this as the most ideal structure to defend the kokutai, because blame could not be placed solely upon his shoulders. He always maintained a get out of jail free card one could say.    The February 26 incident of 1936, was the climax of the Kodoha faction. They performed a mutiny trying to usher in a SHowa restoration. They assumed when their messenger came to the emperor he would join them and take direct rule. Instead Hirohito was furious. His first thought was the mutineers were trying to enlist his brother Chichibu to overthrow him. He dragged his brother who was a fraternizer amongst the kodoha members mind you, into a meeting, demanding he never associate with them again nor attempt to challenge him. Then Hirohito furious demanded the mutineers be dealt with. At one point he even threatened to lead the imperial guards to put them down. The coup failed, the kodoha faction was destroyed. Ironically the toseiha faction were the ones to do it and thus they became the defacto ruling clique.    The military, especially the kwantung army did not stop with their insubordination.    On July 8th of 1937 the Kwangtung army performed the Marco Polo Bridge incident, ushering in the second sino-japanese war. This was one of many false flag operations they had pulled off over the years. Upon being told about this Hirohito's first response was whether the USSR would invade Manchukuo over the matter. This is what he said to Prime Minister Konoe and army minister Sugiyama “What will you do if the Soviets attack us from the rear?” he asked the prince. Kan'in answered, “I believe the army will rise to the occasion.” The emperor repeated his question: “That's no more than army dogma. What will you actually do in the unlikely event that Soviet [forces] attack?” The prince said only, “We will have no choice.” His Majesty seemed very dissatisfied. Hirohito furious demanded to know what contingency plans existed and his advisors told him before he gave his red seal of approval to invade northern china.   Henceforth he micromanaged a lot of the military decisions going forward and he oversaw the forming and dissolving of numerous cabinets and positions when things went his way or did not in the military and political scene.  Emperor Hirohito was presented with several opportunities to cause cease-fires or peace settlements during the war years. One of the best possible moments to end it all came during the attack on Nanking when Chiang Kai-sheks military were in disarray. On July 11 of 1938, the commander of the 19th division fought a border clash with the USSR known to us in the west as the battle of Lake Khasan. It was a costly defeat for Japan and in the diary of Harada Kumao he noted Hirohito scolded Army minister Itagaki “Hereafter not a single soldier is to be moved without my permission.” When it looked like the USSR would not press for a counter attack across the border, Hirohito gave the order for offensives in China to recommence, again an example of him deciding when to lay down the hammer.   By 1939 the US began threatening sanctions for what Japan was doing in China. Hirohito complained to his chief aide de camp Hata Shunroku on August 5th “It could be a great blow to scrap metal and oil”. Hirohito was livid and scolded many of his top officials and forced the appointment of General Abe to prime minister and demanded of him “to cooperate with the US and Britain and preserve internal order”.   Fast forward a bit, with war raging in Europe Hirohito, on June 19th of 1940 Hirohito asked if chief of staff Prince Kan'in and Army Minister Hata “At a time when peace will soon come in the European situation, will there be a deployment of troops to the Netherlands Indies and French Indochina?” This question highlighted Hirohito's belief at that time that Germany was close to achieving victory, which led him to gradually consider deploying troops to French Indochina and the Dutch East Indies since neither of those parent nations was in a position to protect their territories and vital resources. Regarding the war in China, the Japanese aimed to stop the flow of materials entering China from places like Hong Kong. Hirohito received reports indicating that Britain would not agree to block the shipment of materials into China via Hong Kong. The military recognized that an invasion of Hong Kong might be necessary, which would mean declaring war on Britain. When this was communicated to him, Hirohito responded, “If that occurs, I'm sure America will enforce an embargo, don't you think?” In response, Kido, the lord of the privy seal, reassured him by stating, “The nation must be fully prepared to resist, proceeding with caution and avoiding being drawn into events instigated by foreign interests.”   Hirohito went through countless meetings, but eventually signed order number 458 authorizing the invasion of French Indochina, knowing full well the consequences. The US,UK and Netherlands began embargoes of oil, rubber and iron. In the words of Admiral Takagai “As time passes and this situation continues, our empire will either be totally defeated or forced to fight a hopeless war. Therefore we should pursue war and diplomacy together. If there is no prospect of securing our final line of national survival by diplomatic negotiations, we must be resolved to fight.” Hirohito understood the predicament full well, that each day Japan was wasting its oil reserves, if they were to strike it had to be quickly.   On October 13th Hirohito told his closest advisor Koichi Kido “In the present situation there seems to be little hope for the Japan–U.S. negotiations. If hostilities erupt this time, I think I may have to issue a declaration of war.”   The reason I am bringing up all this stuff is to solidify, Hirohito had agency, he was micromanaging and forming decisions. After the war broke out with the west, Hirohito did have the ability to stamp his foot down. Of course there could have been wild repercussions, his military could have usurped him with Chichibu, it was definitely possible. But you need to keep this mind set, as far as why Hirohito acts or doesn't, its always to protect the Kokutai. Thus one of the levers for peace, solely rested on Hirohito's perception if the kokutai could be retained or not.    From the outset of the Pacific War, Hirohito believed Germany was going to defeat the USSR. In line with his military leaders, they all believed Japan had to seize everything they could in the asia-pacific and thwart off the US until a negotiated peace could be met. Hirohito committed himself to overseeing the war, determined to achieve victory at any cost. He was a very cautious leader, he meticulously analyzed each campaign, anticipating potential setbacks and crafting worst-case scenario predictions. He maintained a skeptical view of the reports from his senior officials and was often harshly critical of high commanders.   While he did not frequently visit the front lines like other commanders in chief, Hirohito wielded significant influence over theater operations, shaping both planning and execution whenever he deemed necessary. Similar to his approach during the war in China, he issued the highest military orders from the Imperial Headquarters, conducted audited conferences, and made decisions communicated under his name. He regularly welcomed generals and admirals to the imperial palace for detailed briefings on the battlefront and visited various military bases, battleships, and army and naval headquarters. His inspections encompassed military schools and other significant military institutions, adding to his comprehensive involvement in the war effort.   Now the war went extremely well for Japan until the battle of Midway. This was as major setback, but Japan retained the initiative. Then the Guadalcanal campaign saw Japan lose the initiative to the Americans. Upon receiving the initial report of the Ichiki detachment's destruction, Hirohito remarked, “I am sure it [Guadalcanal] can be held.” Despite the numerous reports detailing the devastating effects of tropical diseases and starvation on his troops, he persistently demanded greater efforts from them. Hirohito exerted continuous pressure on his naval and land commanders to retake the island. On September 15th, November 5th, and November 11th, he requested additional Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) troops and aircraft to be allocated to the cause.   General Sugiyama expressed concerns about dispatching more IJA pilots due to their inexperience in transoceanic combat, preferring to reinforce the North China Army for an attack on Chongqing instead. Hirohito pressed the issue again, but Sugiyama responded that the IJA had diverted its air resources to New Guinea and Rabaul. Undeterred by the objections from senior commanders, Hirohito persisted in his demands. By late November, it became evident that Guadalcanal was a lost cause.   At an Imperial Headquarters conference on December 31st, 1942, the chiefs of staff proposed canceling the attempts to recapture Guadalcanal. Hirohito sanctioned this decision but stated, “It is unacceptable to just give up on capturing Guadalcanal. We must launch an offensive elsewhere.” He insisted on this point, leading to the selection of new strategic targets in the Solomons, north of New Georgia, and in the Stanley Range on New Guinea. Hirohito even threatened to withhold authorization for withdrawing troops from Guadalcanal until a new plan was established. He later opposed the withdrawal from Munda Airfield, as it contradicted the newly defined defensive line.   As the defensive perimeter in the central and northern Solomons began to crumble, Hirohito continued to insist that the navy engage in decisive battles to regain the initiative, allowing for the transport of supplies to the many soldiers trapped on various islands. When he learned of the navy's failure to reinforce Lae on March 3rd, he asked, “Then why didn't you change plans immediately and land at Madan? This is a failure, but it can teach us a good lesson and become a source of future success. Do this for me so I can have peace of mind for a while.” The phrase “Do this for me” would come to be his signature rallying cry.   After Guadal canal, it was loss after loss for Japan. By February of 1944, Hirohito forced Sugiyama to resign so Hideki Tojo could take his position as chief of the general staff, note Tojo was prime minister and army minister at this point. Hirohito worked alongside Tojo to plan some last ditch efforts to change the war situation. The most significant one was Operation Ichi-Go. As much damage as they did to China with that, Chiang Kai-Shek's government survived. Hirohito watched as island by island fell to the Americans. When the Americans were poised to take Saipan he warned Tojo “If we ever lose Saipan, repeated air attacks on Tokyo will follow. No matter what it takes, we have to hold there.” Saipan fell, so Hirohito stopped supporting Tojo and allowed his rivals to take down his cabinet by june 18th of 1944.    Hirohito remained resolute in his determination to wrest victory from the Allies. On October 18th, the Imperial Headquarters ordered a decisive naval engagement, leading to the Battle of Leyte Gulf. After the war, Hirohito publicly stated, "Contrary to the views of the Army and Navy General Staffs, I consented to the showdown battle at Leyte, believing that if we launched an attack and America hesitated, we might find an opportunity to negotiate." Leyte Gulf didnt work. The military began the kamikaze program. On new years day of 1945 Hirohito inspected the special last meal rations given to departing kamikaze units. Iwo Jima fell. Okinawa remained, and Hirohito lashed out “Is it because we failed to sink enemy transports that we've let the enemy get ashore? Isn't there any way to defend Okinawa from the landing enemy forces?” On the second day of Okinawa's invasion Hirohito ordered a counter landing by the 32nd army and urged the navy to counterattack in every way possible. It was a horrible failure, it cost the lives of up to 120,000 Japanese combatants, 170,000 noncombatants. The Americans lost 12,500 killed and 33,000 wounded. An absolute bloodbath.    The Surrender time   Now we come to the time period where Japan seriously began looking for ways to surrender. In Europe Germany was heading to its defeat and Japan knew this. As for Japan, their army in Burma had been annihilated. Their forces in China were faring better after Operation Ichi-go, having opened up a land corridor along the main railway from Beiping to Wuhan and from throughout Guangdong but still stuck in a deadlock stalemate, facing a guerrilla war that was costing them 64% of their military expenditures. They deeply feared once the Soviets finished up with Germany, they would undoubtedly turn east against Manchuria. With the Soviets attacking from the north, the US would attack from the south, perhaps landing in Shanghai and the home islands. The Kamikaze tactics were proving formidable, but not nearly enough. By 1945, 43% of the IJA were now stationed in Japan, Korea and Formosa, bracing for the final stand. Former prime minister Reijiro Wakatsuki came out of retirement in may of 1945, having heard Germany collapsed, to urge Hirohito and the Prime Minister Kantaro Suzuki to open negotiations with the US as soon as possible. However he also said “the enemy must first be made to see the disadvantages of continuing the war”. To this Hirohito's chief counselor Makino Nobuaki said that “the ultimate priority is to develop an advantageous war situation.” Advisor admiral Kesiuke Okada said Japan should wait for “a moment favorable for us,” then make peace. Advisors Kiichiro Hiranuma and Koki Hirota advised the emperor to fight on until the end.   Now I want to bring in a key player to the surrender decision, that of Prince Konoe. Konoe was very close to Hirohito and understood the emperors mentality, especially how he viewed things in relation to the kokutai.    The senior statesman Prince Konoe had been consulting with Hirohito for over 18 months at this point trying to convey the message that if the war continued it would threaten the kokutai. Many months prior, he confided in the emperor's brother, Prince Takamatsu, that the army was suffering from “a cancer” in the form of the Toseiha faction. However, he noted that “Kido and others” did not share his perspective, while “his Majesty is relatively unconcerned with ideological issues.” For the past four years, he continued, the emperor had been advised and still believed that “the true extremists are the Kodoha faction.” In reality, the greater threat to the kokutai arose from the Toseiha faction. Konoe further asserted that if the war escalated, they would attempt to alter the kokutai.   Konoe speculated that whether the threat originated from communists within the nation, primarily referring to left-wing radicals in the Toseiha faction, or from the “Anglo-American enemy,” both would seek to preserve the emperor while pushing towards the country's communization.In his written report to the emperor on February 14, which Kido listened to attentively, Konoe elaborated on his conspiracy theory. He asserted that the Soviet Union regarded Japan as its primary threat in East Asia. The Soviets had allied with the Chinese Communists, the largest and most formidable Communist party in Asia, and were collaborating with the United States and Britain to drive Japan out of China. He warned that they would enter the war when the opportunity arose.   Defeat, he cautioned the emperor, was inevitable if the conflict persisted. However, he emphasized that a far greater fear was the potential destruction of the kokutai. The ongoing war was eroding the domestic status quo, unleashing forces that threatened Japan and its imperial institution from within as much as from external adversaries. The real danger lay in the emperor's and Kido's trust in the generals of the Toseiha faction, who were unintentionally facilitating the communization of Japan. Konoe implored for a swift peace settlement before a Communist revolution emerged, making the preservation of the kokutai impossible. Hirohito agreed with Konoe but stated “ To end the war would be “very difficult unless we make one more military gain.” Konoe allegedly replied, “Is that possible? It must happen soon. If we have to wait much longer, . . . [a mere battle victory] will mean nothing.” Hirohito replied “If we hold out long enough in this war, we may be able to win, but what worries me is whether the nation will be able to endure it until then.”   On February 15th of 1945, Hirohito's intelligence warned the Soviet Union would likely abrogate its Neutrality Pact with Japan. Even Tojo conceded there was a 50/50 chance the USSR would invade Manchuria. In March, the US began B-29 incendiary bombing raids over Tokyo, turning 40% of the capital into ash. On March 18th, Hirohito with some aides drove around the capital to witness the devastation. The civilians looked exhausted and bewildered to Hirohito. Factory production was collapsing, absenteeism was rising, instances of lese majeste were running rampant. For the next 5 months imperial family members and senior statesmen all began speaking to Hirohito about the “crises of the kokutai”. The threat Konoe had warned about for months was becoming the main talking point. It seemed like the Japanese people within the countryside and urban areas remained steadfast in the resolve to obey their leaders, work and sacrifice for their nation, but for how long would they feel so?    It was only after the battle for Okinawa was lost and 60 Japanese cities had been leveled by American incendiary bombs that Hirohito openly indicated he wanted to negotiate a surrender.   Kido's diary reveals the first clear indication that the emperor might be urged to consider an early peace on June 8, 1945, when Kido drafted his “Draft Plan for Controlling the Crisis Situation.” This marked a pivotal moment. It followed the unintentional bombing of the Imperial Palace, the complete loss of hope for saving Okinawa, and coincided with the day the Supreme War Leadership Council adopted the “Basic Policy for the Future Direction of the War.” With the fighting in Europe concluded, Japan found itself entirely isolated. Kido's plan, although vague, proposed seeking the Soviet Union's assistance as an intermediary to help Japan gain leverage in negotiations with its adversaries. By drafting this plan, Kido signaled the end of his long alliance with the military hard-liners. Hirohito's acceptance of it indicated his readiness for an early peace.   Hirohito was moved to an underground bunker in the mountains of Matsushiro in Nagano prefecture where upon those around him noted he fell into a deep depression. On June 22nd  Hirohito informed the Supreme War Leadership Council he wanted them to open diplomatic maneuvers to end the war. In early July Soviet Ambassador Jacob Malik broke off inconclusive talks with Hirota. Hirohito stepped in immediately and ordered a new special envoy be sent to Moscow. However Hirohito nor the Suzuki government had concrete plans on how to mediate a surrender through the Soviets. The only things they did prioritize was a guarantee of the emperors political position and retainment of the imperial system, ie the kokutai. This was taken into consideration rather than ending the war as quickly as possible to save the lives of millions.    From April 8, 1945, until Japan's capitulation, the Suzuki government's chief war policy was “Ketsugo,” an advanced iteration of the “Shosango” (Victory Number 3) plan for defending the homeland. The hallmark of this strategy was a heavy reliance on suicide tactics, including deploying a massive number of kamikaze “special attack” planes, human torpedoes launched from submarines, dynamite-stuffed “crash boats” powered by truck engines, human rocket bombs carried by aircraft, and suicide assaults by specially trained ground units.   While preparations for Operation Ketsu progressed, the Imperial Diet convened on June 9 to pass a Wartime Emergency Measures Law, along with five additional measures aimed at mobilizing the entire nation for this final battle. On the same day, the emperor, who had yet to initiate efforts to end the war, issued another imperial rescript in conjunction with the Diet's convocation, instructing the nation to “smash the inordinate ambitions of the enemy nations” and “achieve the goals of the war.” Concurrently, the controlled press launched a daily die-for-the-emperor campaign to foster gratitude for the imperial benevolence and, from around mid-July onward, initiated a campaign to “protect the kokutai.”   The Americans countered with their own propaganda aimed at breaking Japan's will to fight. B-29 bombers dropped millions of leaflets written in Japanese, announcing the next scheduled targets for bombing raids and urging surrender, while using the emperor to challenge the militarists. Leaflets bearing the chrysanthemum crest criticized the “military cliques” for “forcing the entire nation to commit suicide” and called on “everyone” to “exercise their constitutional right to make direct appeals [for peace] to the Emperor.” They asserted that “even the powerful military cliques cannot stop the mighty march for peace of the Emperor and the people.” One notable batch of seven million leaflets conveyed the terms of the “joint declaration” issued by the United States, Great Britain, and China. “Today we come not to bomb you,” they stated. “We are dropping this leaflet to inform you of the response from the United States government to your government's request for conditions of surrender.... Whether the war stops immediately depends on your government. You will understand how to end the war if you read these two official notifications.”   Amid pressures from imperial edicts to continue preparations for a final battle and focus solely on victory, the Japanese people were also subjected to an intense American psychological warfare campaign in addition to aerial bombardment. During late July and August, prefectural governors, police chiefs, and officers of the “special higher police” submitted reports to the Home Ministry detailing the rapidly deteriorating national morale.    Now on the other side, Roosevelt made it known back in January of 1943 at the Casablanca conference, the allies would only accept unconditional surrender. By 1945, the allies understood the predicament this left Japan with. On May 8th of 1945, Truman added “Japan's surrender would not mean the extermination or enslavement of the Japanese people” trying to indicate a non vindictive spirit. However the Kokutai question always remained ambiguous. State Department Joseph Grew, the former ambassador to Japan, began arguing to Truman they needed to make public a clear definition of the terms to persuade Japan to surrender. As he argued to Truman: Emperor Hirohito was seen as the key figure in Japan's surrender, likened to a "queen bee in a hive... surrounded by the attentions of the hive." Throughout the war, he was characterized in various ways—as a “puppet” of the militarists, a constitutional monarch, and a pacifist. Grew had immense faith in the influence exerted by what he referred to as the “moderates” surrounding the Japanese throne.    However many of Grew's colleagues argued the future existence of the monarchy was intolerable as it was akin to fascism. Many wanted to punish the emperor. Truman was in a tug of war. The Potsdam declaration issued on July 26th of 1945 came in the form of a ultimatum aiming to quicken japans surrender. Truman clarified the terms for the unconditional surrender at the end of its terms: "We call upon the government of Japan to proclaim now the unconditional surrender of all Japanese armed forces, and to provide proper and adequate assurances of their good faith in such action. The alternative for Japan is prompt and utter destruction." Zero mention of the emperor. Grew had argued to add “this may include a constitutional monarchy under the present dynasty.” But it was deleted from the article. The status of the emperor was not guaranteed, the kokutai was thus up in the air.    The next day, the Suzuki cabinet rejected the terms. The Japanese leadership and Hirohito were still banking and awaiting Soviet replies to their terms.    Lets talk about the Soviet talks now   Back on July 12th ambassador Naotake Satō sent this message to the Soviets: “His Majesty the Emperor, mindful of the fact that the present war daily brings greater evil and sacrifice upon the peoples of all the belligerent powers, desires from his heart that it may be quickly terminated. But so long as England and the United States insist upon unconditional surrender, the Japanese Empire has no alternative but to fight on with all its strength for the honor and existence of the Motherland”.  However the Soviets had made commitments to their allies, promising in fact to invade Japan to aid them.    As for the Soviets their primary objective was to ensure unrestricted access to the Pacific Ocean. The year-round ice-free areas of the Soviet Pacific coastline, particularly Vladivostok, could be blockaded by air and sea from Sakhalin Island and the Kurile Islands. Securing these territories to guarantee free access to the Soya Strait was their main goal. Secondary objectives included acquiring leases for the Chinese Eastern Railway, the Southern Manchuria Railway, as well as gaining control over Dairen and Port Arthur.   To achieve these aims, Stalin and Molotov prolonged negotiations with the Japanese, creating a false sense of hope for a Soviet-mediated peace. Simultaneously, in their discussions with the United States and Britain, the Soviets insisted on strict adherence to the Cairo Declaration, which had been reaffirmed at the Yalta Conference. This declaration stipulated that the Allies would not accept a separate or conditional peace with Japan; thus, the Japanese would need to surrender unconditionally to all the Allies. The Soviets aimed to prolong the war by opposing any efforts to dilute this requirement. This approach would provide the Soviets with the necessary time to complete the transfer of their troops from the Western Front to the Far East and to conquer Manchuria, Inner Mongolia, northern Korea, South Sakhalin, the Kuriles, and potentially Hokkaidō, starting with an assault on Rumoi. AUGUST 1945   Thus we come to at last the critical point, August of 1945.    The Americans prepared for the deployment of atomic bombs and for an invasion of southern Kyushu, known as Operation Olympic, scheduled to commence on November 1. At 8:15 A.M. on August 6, a single B-29 bomber, the Enola Gay dropped little boy, devastating much of the undefended city of Hiroshima, instantly killing an estimated 100,000 to 140,000 people and leading to the deaths of possibly another 100,000 over the next five years. At the epicenter of the explosion, “a light appeared 3,000 times brighter than the sun,” creating a fireball that emitted thermal radiation capable of “instantly scorching humans, trees, and houses.” As the air heated and rushed upward, cold air surged in to ignite a firestorm. Hours later, a whirlwind escalated the flames to their peak until more than eight square miles were virtually reduced to cinders. Subsequently, black, muddy rain filled with radioactive fallout began to fall. Two days later, using Japan's rejection of the Potsdam Declaration as a pretext, the Soviet Union declared war on Japan. Then on August 9, the United States dropped a second atomic bomb on Nagasaki, resulting in the immediate deaths of approximately 35,000 to 40,000 people and injuring more than 60,000.   Meanwhile, in Tokyo, during the critical period between the Potsdam Declaration and the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, Emperor Hirohito remained silent about accepting the Potsdam terms. However, on July 25 and 31, he explicitly conveyed to Kido that the imperial regalia must be defended at all costs. The three sacred objects—a mirror, a curved jewel, and a sword—symbolized the legitimacy of his rule through the northern court and were integral to his identity as the divine sovereign. Hirohito's focus was on protecting these symbols of office, as he insisted on having them brought to the palace. This fixation on maintaining his symbols occurred during a pivotal moment when the pressing issue was whether to accept immediate capitulation. Reflecting on this, he was unprepared to seize the opportunity to end the war himself.   Prime Minister Suzuki, following his initial rejection of the Potsdam ultimatum, also saw no need for further action. His Cabinet Advisory Council, which included the president of Asano Cement, the founder of the Nissan consortium, the vice president of the Bank of Japan, and other representatives from the nation's leading business interests that had profited significantly from the war, convened on the morning of August 3. They recommended accepting the Potsdam terms, arguing that the United States would permit Japan to retain its non-military industries and continue participating in world trade.    Here are some reactions to the two bombs and invasion of Manchuria.    Yonai Mitsumasa said to admiral Takagi Sokichi, on August 12, that “I think the term is perhaps inappropriate, but the atomic bombs and the Soviet entry into the war are, in a sense, gifts from the gods [tenyu, also “heaven-sent blessings”]. This way we don't have to say that we quit the war because of domestic circumstances. I've long been advocating control of our crisis, but neither from fear of an enemy attack nor because of the atomic bombs and the Soviet entry into the war. The main reason is my anxiety over the domestic situation. So, it is rather fortunate that we can now control matters without revealing the domestic situation”.    Konoe's characterized the Soviet involvement in the war as “a godsend for controlling the army,”. Kido viewed of both the atomic bombings and the Soviet entry into the conflict as “useful” elements for ensuring a smooth transition. A nascent power struggle was unfolding, rendering the potential death toll—whether one hundred thousand or two hundred thousand—immaterial to those involved, as long as their desired outcome was achieved: an end to the war that would leave the monarchy intact and capable of managing the discontent that defeat would inevitably provoke. Throughout the final acts of this wartime drama, the Japanese “moderates” found it easier to capitulate to external pressures than to take decisive action on their own to conclude the war.   Another illuminating looks at Japan's elite's perspective on surrender terms was the document titled “Essentials of Peace Negotiations” (wahei kosho no yoryo). Drafted by Konoe and his adviser, retired Lt. Gen. Sakai Koji, after Konoe had reluctantly accepted a mission to Moscow, this document, stipulated the preservation of the emperor system, along with most of the imperial prerogatives, as the absolute minimum condition for peace. It defined the “original” or “essential homeland” as including the southern half of the Kurile Islands but showed a willingness to concede all overseas territories to the enemy, including Okinawa and the American-occupied Bonin Islands, as well as the southern half of Sakhalin. The “Essentials” also accepted complete disarmament for an unspecified period, thereby compromising on the issues of demobilizing and disarming the armed forces. More significantly, an “explanation” attached to the “Essentials” emphasized that “the main aim is to secure the imperial line and maintain the political role of the emperor.”    Why Japan surrendered   We come to it atleast after a long podcast. Why did Japan ultimately surrender?   The twin psychological shocks of the first atomic bomb and the Soviet entry into the war, combined with Kido's and the emperor's concern over escalating public criticism of the throne and its occupant, fueled an almost paranoid fear that, sooner or later, the populace would react violently against their leaders if the war persisted much longer. These factors ultimately led Hirohito to accept, in principle, the terms of the Potsdam Declaration.   At the first meeting of the six member constituents of the Supreme War Leadership Council, held from 10:30 A.M. to 1:00 P.M. on August 9, Army Minister Anami Korechika, Chiefs of Staff Umezu Yoshijiro, representing the army, and Yonai, representing the navy, along with Tōgō, from the Foreign Ministry, were expected to discuss the acceptance of the Potsdam Declaration. Instead, the conversation revolved around whether to attempt a conditional surrender—specifically, should they insist on one condition, the preservation of the kokutai, or four?   After Suzuki addressed the assembly regarding the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and the Soviet attack, Yonai, as recounted by Navy Chief of Staff Toyoda, was the first to speak, framing the issue in terms of four conditions. “Let's start to talk, Do we accept the Potsdam Declaration with no conditions? If not, and we wish to insist on attaching hopes and conditions, we may do so this way. First, preservation of the kokutai; then for the rest, the main items in the Potsdam Declaration: treatment of war criminals, method of disarmament, and the matter of sending in an army of occupation.” Thus, the participants identified what they perceived to be the ambiguous points within the Potsdam Declaration and used them as the foundation for their discussions.   The army insisted on four conditions: First, the preservation of the kokutai, which they considered distinct from the Potsdam Declaration itself. The other conditions proposed were, second, that the Imperial Headquarters assume responsibility for disarmament and demobilization; third, a prohibition on occupation; and fourth, the delegation of the punishment of war criminals to the Japanese government. The army equated the kokutai with the emperor's right of supreme command. Their self-serving desire for autonomous war crimes trials was based on the belief that the Allies would use such trials to politically indict the military. Consequently, army leaders aimed to preempt the activities of any international tribunal by conducting their own trials—similar to the approach taken by the uninvaded and unrepentant Germans after World War I.   Supporting the military's views during cabinet meetings that day were three civilian members of the Suzuki cabinet: Justice Minister Matsuzaka Hiromasa, Home Minister Yasui Toji, and Minister of Health Okada Tadahiko. At the imperial conference that night, which extended into the early hours of the tenth, Foreign Minister Tōgō's interpretation of the “preservation of the kokutai” referred solely to the safeguarding of the Imperial House or dynasty, rather than the continuation of Hirohito's reign.   Hiranuma, another advocate for the single condition, interpreted the kokutai as the “emperor's sovereign right to rule the state [not] deriving from national law. Even if the entire nation is sacrificed to the war, we must preserve both the kokutai and the security of the imperial house.” This discrepancy illustrated that there was no completely unified understanding of what the kokutai entailed; the debate over one condition versus four represented conflicting visions for the future of the Japanese state and masked the competition for political power that was already unfolding.   It remains doubtful whether the emperor and Kido initially sided with Tōgō against the four conditions proposed by the senior military leaders. A more likely inference is that both men retained sympathies for the hardliners, both military and civilian, who preferred to continue the futile war rather than surrender immediately and unconditionally. This may explain why, on August 9, Konoe had Hosokawa Morisada approach Navy General Headquarters to urge the emperor's brother, Prince Takamatsu, to pressure Hirohito (through Kido) to accept the Potsdam terms. Later that afternoon, Konoe enlisted the help of diplomat Shigemitsu Mamoru to persuade Kido to reconsider his stance on the four conditions. Ultimately, at the urging of Takamatsu and Shigemitsu, Kido did shift to support Tōgō's position.   At the end of the war, as at its beginning and throughout every stage of its progression, Emperor Hirohito played a highly active role in supporting the actions carried out in his name. From the very beginning of the Asia-Pacific war, the emperor played a significant role in the unfolding events around him. Prior to the Battle of Okinawa, he consistently advocated for a decisive victory. Afterward, he acknowledged the necessity of pursuing an early peace, although he did not favor an immediate cessation of hostilities. Instead, he wavered, steering Japan toward ongoing warfare rather than direct negotiations with the Allies. When the final crisis fully unfolded, the only option left was unconditional surrender. Even then, he continued to procrastinate until the atomic bomb was dropped and the Soviets launched their attack. The wartime emperor ideology that once sustained morale made it exceedingly difficult for Japan's leaders to accept the act of surrender. Aware of their objective defeat, yet indifferent to the suffering the war inflicted on their own people—as well as on the populations of Asia, the Pacific, and the West whose lives they had disrupted—the emperor and his military leaders sought a means to lose without appearing to lose. They aimed to mitigate domestic criticism following surrender while preserving their power structure.   Blinded by their fixation on the fate of the imperial house and committed to an overly optimistic diplomacy toward the Soviet Union, Japan's leaders missed several opportunities to end their lost war. Would Japan's leaders have surrendered more promptly if the Truman administration had “clarified” the status of the emperor before the cataclysmic double shocks of the atomic bomb and the Soviet entry into the war? Probably not. However, it is likely they would have surrendered to prevent the kokutai from being destroyed from within. The evidence suggests that the first atomic bomb and the Soviet declaration of war led Hirohito, Kido, and other members of the court to believe that continuing the war would inevitably result in that destruction. They recognized that the populace was war-weary and despondent, with rising hostility toward the military and the government, accompanied by increasing criticism of the emperor himself. More specifically, Kido and Hirohito were privy to Home Ministry reports, which contained information from governors and police chiefs nationwide. These reports indicated that citizens were beginning to label the emperor as an incompetent leader responsible for the deteriorating war situation.   This is the third variable, never spoken about. Many first look at the atomic bombs. Bigger brain people turn to the Soviet Invasion of Manchuria. But hardly anyone reads about how the collapse of Japan's social fabric, scared the shit out of the Emperor and his closest advisors. You can't have a kokutai, without a populace that worshiped you.    When the emperor expressed in February, “What worries me is whether the nation [could] endure” long enough to achieve victory, he was not merely voicing concern for the suffering of his subjects; rather, he feared that such suffering could lead to social upheaval—in short, revolution. At that time, he referred to the ordinary, war-related hardships of food shortages, air raids, devastated cities, destruction of homes, and the omnipresent grief from the loss of loved ones. The atomic bomb escalated death, pain, and suffering to unimaginably higher levels, intensifying the threat from within. After the bombings of Japan and two atomic bombs, Hirohito was in a dark way, given a golden get out of jail free card. Hirohito could now save his suffering people from further anguish by surrendering, allowing him to deflect responsibility for leading them into misery while adopting an air of benevolence and care. Indeed, Hirohito did care—though not primarily for the Japanese people, but rather for the survival of his own imperial house and throne.   After the bombing of Hiroshima, Hirohito delayed for a full two days before instructing Kido, shortly before 10 A.M. on August 9, to “quickly control the situation” because “the Soviet [Union]” had declared war. Kido immediately communicated with Prime Minister Suzuki, who began arrangements for an Imperial Conference scheduled for later that night. Following the seidan of August 10, Chief Cabinet Secretary Sakomizu took charge of drafting the “Imperial Rescript Ending the War” based on Hirohito's directives. Assisted by two scholars of the Chinese classics, Kawada Mizuho and Yasuoka Masahiro, Sakomizu worked tirelessly for over three days before submitting a version of the rescript to the Suzuki cabinet. After six hours of contentious discussion on the night of August 14, the cabinet modified and approved the document. Hirohito promptly signed it, and Shimomura and Kido persuaded him to record a suitably opaque final version for broadcast to the nation.   On the night of August 14, the Suzuki government notified the United States and other Allied nations that it had accepted both the Potsdam Declaration and the Byrnes letter of August 11. Accelerating the emperor's actions during this climactic moment of the unconditional surrender drama was the American psychological warfare campaign. When a leaflet dropped from B-29 bombers came into Kido's possession on the night of August 13 or the morning of the fourteenth, he conferred with the emperor and explained the gravity of the situation. The latest enemy leaflets were informing the Japanese people of the government's notification of surrender under one condition, along with the full text of Byrnes's response. If this continued, it would undermine the imperial government's reliance on secrecy to obscure the true nature of the lost war and the reasons for the prolonged surrender delay.   Given Kido's and the emperor's concerns about rising signs of defeatism, including criticism of the throne, immediate action was necessary to prevent the populace from acting on their own initiative. Thus, the second seidan was convened. At noon on August 15, the Japanese people gathered around their radio receivers and heard, for the first time, the high-pitched voice of their emperor telling them:    “After pondering deeply the general trends of the world and the actual conditions obtaining in Our Empire today, We have decided to effect a settlement of the present situation by resorting to an extraordinary measure. We have ordered Our Government to communicate to the Governments of the United States, Great Britain, China and the Soviet Union that Our Empire accepts the provisions of their Joint Declaration. To strive for the common prosperity and happiness of all nations as well as the security and well-being of Our subjects is the solemn obligation which has been handed down by Our Imperial Ancestors and which lies close to Our heart. Indeed, We declared war on America and Britain out of Our sincere desire to ensure Japan's self-preservation and the stabilization of East Asia, it being far from Our thought either to infringe upon the sovereignty of other nations or to embark upon territorial aggrandizement. But now the war has lasted for nearly four years. Despite the best that has been done by everyone—the gallant fighting of the military and naval forces, the diligence and assiduity of Our servants of the State, and the devoted service of Our one hundred million people—the war situation has developed not necessarily to Japan's advantage, while the general trends of the world have all turned against her interest. Moreover, the enemy has begun to employ a new and most cruel bomb, the power of which to do damage is, indeed, incalculable, taking the toll of many innocent lives. Should we continue to fight, not only would it result in an ultimate collapse and obliteration of the Japanese nation, but also it would lead to the total extinction of human civilization. Such being the case, how are We to save the millions of Our subjects, or to atone Ourselves before the hallowed spirits of Our Imperial Ancestors? This is the reason why We have ordered the acceptance of the provisions of the Joint Declaration of the Powers... The hardships and sufferings to which Our nation is to be subjected hereafter will be certainly great. We are keenly aware of the inmost feelings of all of you, Our subjects. However, it is according to the dictates of time and fate that We have resolved to pave the way for a grand peace for all the generations to come by enduring the unendurable and suffering what is unsufferable”.   Clearly Hirohito sought to justify his decision to surrender by citing the dropping of the atomic bombs. He wanted to become the saviour of the Japanese people. Hirohito wanted to obfuscate the issue of accountability, to prevent expressions of strife and anger and to strengthen domestic unity around himself, to protect and raise the kokutai.  Interestingly, the surrender declaration to the civilian population was not the same one sent to the military. On August 17th Hirohito issued a second “rescript to soldiers and sailors” throughout the asia-pacific.   “ Now that the Soviet Union has entered the war against us, to continue . . . under the present conditions at home and abroad would only recklessly incur even more damage to ourselves and result in endangering the very foundation of the empire's existence. Therefore, even though enormous fighting spirit still exists in the Imperial Navy and Army, I am going to make peace with the United States, Britain, and the Soviet Union, as well as with Chungking, in order to maintain our glorious national polity”.   The lesser-known August 17 rescript to the army and navy specified Soviet participation as the sole reason for surrender, while maintaining the kokutai as the primary aim. Dissembling until the end—and even beyond—it was noted that the emperor presented two different justifications for his delayed surrender. Both statements were likely true.   Months later Hirohito's said this about his decision to surrender “The main motive behind my decision at that time was that if we . . . did not act, the Japanese race would perish and I would be unable to protect my loyal subjects [sekishi—literally, “children”]. Second, Kido agreed with me on the matter of defending the kokutai. If the enemy landed near Ise Bay, both Ise and Atsuta Shrines would immediately come under their control. There would be no time to transfer the sacred treasures [regalia] of the imperial family and no hope of protecting them. Under these circumstances, protection of the kokutai would be difficult. For these reasons, I thought at the time that I must make peace even at the sacrifice of myself.”    There exists this sort of childish argument today whether it was the atomic bombs or the Soviet Invasion that caused Japan to surrender. However, this overlooks as I think I've explained in 9000 words jeez, the influence of the kokutai. Defending the kokutai was Hirohito's number one priority. The Soviets threatened it. Communism threatened it. What Japan perceived to be “democracy” threatened it. American victory threatened it. And the destruction of Japan's social fabric threatened it. I love this one piece of history, that I have only come across in one book, that being the main one I am using here.   On August 12th, Hirohito came to the imperial family to tell them he had made the decision to surrender. His uncle Prince Yasuhiko Asaka asked him whether the war would be continued if the kokutai could not be preserved. Hirohito replied “of course”.

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the battle of Nanjing. As the relentless tide of war approached Nanjing in December 1937, fear gripped its residents. As atrocities unfolded in the countryside, civilians flocked toward safety zones, desperate for refuge. Under the command of General Tang Shengzhi, the Chinese forces prepared for a fierce defense, determined to hold their ground against the technologically superior invaders. Despite heavy losses and internal strife, hopes flickered among the defenders, fueled by the valor of their troops. Key positions like Old Tiger's Cave became battlegrounds, exemplifying the fierce resistance against the Japanese advance. On December 9, as artillery fire enveloped the city, a battle for the Gate of Enlightenment commenced. Both sides suffered grievously, with the Chinese soldiers fighting to the last, unwilling to yield an inch of their soil. Each assault from Japan met with relentless counterattacks, turning Nanjing into a symbol of perseverance amidst impending doom, as the siege marked a critical chapter in the conflict, foreshadowing the brutal events that would follow.   #167 The Battle of Nanjing 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. By mid-December, the landscape surrounding Nanjing was eerily quiet. The Japanese Army marched through what seemed to be desolate fields and mountains, but they were not truly empty. Civilians were scarce, with most having fled, but a few remained in their homes, hiding in cellars and barns, clinging to the hope that the war would bypass them. Meanwhile, thousands of Chinese soldiers, left behind and unable to keep pace with their units, still posed a significant danger to the Japanese forces. The Japanese Army had not truly conquered the territory east and south of Nanjing; they had merely passed through. Mopping-up operations became a top priority. Soldiers from the 16th Infantry Division, stationed near Purple Mountain, spent early December conducting these missions far from the city's walls. “Chinese stragglers may be hiding in this area, and they must be flushed out. Any small structure of no strategic value to the Japanese Army must be burned!” This command rang out to the division's soldiers as they spread across the countryside around Unicorn Gate. Soon, isolated fires began to illuminate the horizon, one for each home. Soldiers from the 9th Infantry Division, who were not directly engaged in combat south of the Gate of Enlightenment, were also conducting similar mopping-up operations. On December 11 at noon, one squad received orders to investigate a suspicious farm building. Although it had been searched previously, movement inside prompted renewed caution. The Japanese entered carefully, moving from room to room. In the basement, they discovered eight Chinese soldiers who offered no resistance, immediately raising their hands in surrender. Bound together, they were brought outside. Using a few Chinese words supplemented by sign language, the Japanese gathered that the Chinese had been in the vicinity where one of their comrades had been killed days earlier. Unanimously, they decided the prisoners should be executed in front of their comrade's grave. Some of the older soldiers hesitated, reluctant to partake in the killings, leaving it to the younger ones to carry out the order. Soon, eight headless bodies lay sprawled before a solitary Japanese grave.  On the morning of December 11, the first soldiers of the 6th Japanese Infantry Division finally spotted the distant city wall of Nanjing. They had been engaged in fierce combat for nearly two days, attempting to dislodge the tenacious defenders of the Yuhuatai plateau, the elite soldiers of the 88th Division. In a desperate bid to maintain their foothold on Yuhuatai, the 88th Division deployed its reserved 528th Regiment along with a battalion of engineers. Despite their efforts, the regiment's ranks had been depleted, filled with inexperienced recruits, and their leadership nearly obliterated, limiting their effectiveness. Under the relentless assaults from the Japanese forces, their defenses began to falter almost immediately. Faced with the stiff resistance at the Gate of Enlightenment, the Japanese shifted their focus to the Chinese Gate on December 11. Japanese aircraft were summoned for tactical air support, forcing the 88th Division's defenders to retreat behind the wall. This withdrawal occurred swiftly and somewhat chaotically, allowing the Japanese to pursue closely. Before the Chinese could regroup, 300 Japanese soldiers had breached the wall. Only the mobilization of all available forces enabled the Chinese to push the attackers back outside. Meanwhile, the left flank of the 88th Division, stationed east of Chinese Gate, remained outside the wall. Here, they clashed with elements of the 9th Japanese Division but faced intense pressure and were compelled to fall back. By the end of the day, the Chinese division had shortened its defensive line, regrouping in front of the city wall. Plans for a nighttime counterattack were ultimately abandoned, as it became clear that the division's soldiers were too fatigued to mount an effective offensive. Overall, it proved to be a successful day for the Japanese 10th Army. Further south, the Kunisaki Detachment successfully crossed the Yangtze River at Cihu village, beginning their advance toward Pukou. Its special amphibious training made the detachment ideally suited for the operation, but its limited numbers, essentially a reinforced infantry regiment, raised concerns at field headquarters about whether it could accomplish the task alone. Prince Asaka proposed transporting part of the 13th Division across the Yangtze further north to sever the railway connecting Tianjin to Pukou, cutting off a potential retreat route for Chinese forces that had escaped Nanjing.  On December 11, Japanese artillery shells rained down relentlessly, targeting both the interior and exterior of Nanjing's city walls. Administrators of the Safety Zone were alarmed to witness several shells landing perilously close to its southern edge. In a bid to provide some semblance of security, American and foreign flags were raised around the zone's perimeter, though their protective influence against artillery fire from miles away was negligible. The leaders of the Safety Zone faced an unexpected dilemma: how to handle lawbreakers with the city courts now out of operation. That day, they encountered a thief caught in the act. As Rabe noted in his diary “We sentence the thief to death, then pardon him and reduce his punishment to 24 hours in jail, and ultimately, due to the absence of a jail, we simply let him go”. Refugees continued to pour in, with a total of 850 having found shelter at Ginling College. Vautrin and her colleagues began to feel that their initial estimate of 2,700 women and children seeking refuge on the campus was overly optimistic. They were soon proven wrong. On the banks of the Yangtze River, hundreds of injured soldiers and civilians were lining up to be ferried across to Pukou, where trains awaited to transport them further inland and away from danger. Many had been waiting for days without food. While ferries made continuous trips across the river to rescue as many as possible, the process was painfully slow. As of late December 10, approximately 1,500 wounded civilians remained stranded on the south bank of the Yangtze. The Japanese forces were confronted by a fiercely determined enemy composed largely of young soldiers from the Training Division. These soldiers had the advantage of having been stationed near Purple Mountain for several years, making them familiar with the terrain. Additionally, they were part of an elite unit, groomed not just in equipment and training but also instilled with a sense of nationalism rooted in Chiang Kai-shek's ideology. Li Xikai, the commander of the division's 3rd Regiment, had set up his command post directly in the path of the primary Japanese advance, yet his regiment continued to resist. Despite the fierce resistance, the Japanese gradually gained control over the Purple Mountain area. General Nakajima Kesago, commander of the 16th Division, visited an artillery observation post early in the day and was pleased to receive reports that his troops had captured two peaks of Purple Mountain and were poised to take the main peak.  Yet there loomed a problem on Nakajima's right flank. A widening gap was emerging between the 16th Division and the 13th Division, which had advanced along the southern bank of the Yangtze. There was a risk that Chinese forces could escape through this lightly guarded area. The 13th Division was stationed in the strategically important river port city of Zhenjiang, preparing to cross the Yangtze. The Central China Area Army ordered the 13th Division to mobilize three infantry battalions and one artillery battalion. This new formation, known as the Yamada Detachment after its commander, Yamada Senji, was tasked with remaining on the Yangtze's south bank and advancing westward to capture two Chinese fortresses on the river: Mt. Wulong and Mt. Mufu. This redeployment alleviated concerns about the gap, allowing the 16th Division to focus on the city wall. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, one Captain Akao Junzo prepared for what he believed would be his final assault. He had been ordered to seize a hill northeast of Sun Yat-sen Gate that overlooked the city entrance. His commander told him “The attack on Nanjing will likely be the last battle of this war, and I hope your company can be at the front when the enemy's lines are breached”. The hill was fortified with numerous machine gun positions, reinforced with mud, bricks, and tiles, and connected by an intricate network of trenches. Dense rows of barbed wire lay before the positions, designed to halt attackers and expose them to machine-gun fire. Additionally, the area was likely heavily mined, and Chinese soldiers maintained a high level of alertness. Akao knew this all too well; when he crawled forward and slightly lifted his head to survey the landscape, he triggered a hail of bullets, one of which grazed his helmet. Around late afternoon, four mountain guns from the regimental artillery began firing on the Chinese positions, sustaining the bombardment for over an hour. By 5:00 pm, as the winter sky darkened, Akao decided it was time to launch the attack. Expecting close-quarters combat, he instructed his men to carry only their rifles and small entrenchment tools. With the entire company poised to move, he dispatched a small group of soldiers ahead to cut openings in the barbed wire while receiving covering fire from the mountain guns and the rifles and machine guns of their comrades. The remainder of the company advanced with swords raised and bayonets fixed. As they approached within about 700 feet of the enemy positions, the artillery bombardment ceased as planned. The enemy, still reeling from the ferocity of the earlier assault, scrambled in a panic from their trenches, retreating in disarray. Akao and his fellow soldiers pressed forward, cutting down any opposition in their path. Seizing the momentum, Akao charged to occupy the hill that had been his target. He found it deserted upon his arrival and sent a triumphant message back to command, reporting that the objective had been achieved. However, the reply he received left him baffled: he was ordered to withdraw with his company and return to their lines. Apparently, the regimental command deemed the position too precarious. Sensing that a precious advantage was being squandered, Akao disregarded the order. Before his company could establish a defensive position on the hill, the Chinese launched a counterattack. Lying down, the Japanese soldiers returned fire while frantically digging into the earth to fortify their position. Gradually, they began to form a rudimentary perimeter at the summit. The fighting continued into the night. Exhausted from days without sleep, many soldiers rotated between guard duty and rest, dozing off intermittently in their shallow trenches, reassuring one another that everything would be alright before drifting back to sleep. They successfully repelled all attempts by the Chinese to reclaim the hill and were eventually relieved. On December 11, after leaving his capital, Chiang Kai-shek took time to reflect on everything that had happened in his diary. He reassured himself that his nationalist revolution would persist, regardless of whether he held Nanjing, “Temporary defeat can be turned into eventual victory.” Yet he did not fear so much the Japanese invasion itself, but rather how the weakening of his nationalist government might allow the Communists to rise. He wrote about how his nation was on the brink of becoming a second Spain. While foreign invasions were undoubtedly disastrous, they could eventually be overcome, if not immediately, then over years or decades. Sometimes, this could be achieved merely by absorbing the outmatched invader and assimilating them into Chinese society. In contrast, internal unrest posed a far more fundamental threat to the survival of any regime. As we have seen in this series, going back to the mid 19th century, was it the foreign empires of Britain, France and Russia that threatened to destroy the Qing dynasty, or was it the internal civil war brought on by the Taiping? As Chiang famously put it “the Japanese were a treatable disease of the skin. Communism however was a disease of the heart”. Chiang could accept a humiliating but rapid retreat from Nanjing. In his view, it would be far more difficult to recover from a bloody yet futile struggle for the city that might cost him what remained of his best troops. A prolonged defensive battle, he reasoned, would be a tragic waste and could shift the balance of power decisively in favor of the Communists. This new mindset was reflected in a telegram he sent late on December 11 to Tang Shengzhi: “If the situation becomes untenable, it is permissible to find the opportune moment to retreat to regroup in the rear in anticipation of future counterattacks.” On December 12, tankettes cautiously plunged into the Yuhuatai plateau. Unexpectedly the Chinese defenders abandoned their positions and rushed down the hillside toward Nanjing's walls. Upon discovering this, the Japanese tankettes opened fire on the retreating Chinese, cutting swathes through the masses and sending bodies tumbling down the slope. Some Japanese infantry caught up, joining in the slaughter and laughing boisterously as they reveled in the chaos. A tankette column escorted a group of engineers to the Nanjing wall and then drove east along the moat until they reached a large gate, flanked by two smaller openings, all securely shut. A chilling message, painted in blue, adorned the gate's surface. Written in Chinese characters, it conveyed a stark warning: “We Swear Revenge on the Enemy.” The wall itself loomed three stories high, but Japanese artillery was already targeting it, this was known as the Chinese Gate. Now that Yuhuatai was virtually in Japanese hands, capturing the gate had become the primary objective. At this location, the wall stood 70 feet tall, protected by a 100-foot moat to the outside. All bridges spanning the moat had been destroyed. The area around the gate was heavily defended, with approximately one machine gun positioned every 50 yards atop the wall. Inside, the gate was reinforced with a formidable barrier of sandbags. Chinese infantry armed with mortars and small arms could fire down on the Japanese attackers while others had established isolated positions in nearby buildings that had survived the “scorched earth” policy. Taking the gate and the heavily fortified southwestern corner of the wall was the responsibility of the 6th Division. The division was deploying its regiments: the 13th, the 47th, and the 23rd from east to west. The 45th Regiment, the final unit of the division, was tasked with skirting the western side of the wall and advancing northward, aiming for the Yangtze docks at Xiaguan. The soldiers of the division had already formed a rough understanding of the formidable defenses they were facing. During the night between December 11 and 12, they had advanced nearly to the wall, gathering intelligence to prepare for an assault at dawn. As planned, the assault commenced. Field artillery fired round after round at the gate, but the wall sustained minimal damage. A Japanese tank rolled up, firing point-blank at the gate but producing no visible effect. Next, it was the engineers' turn. A “dare-to-die” squad, equipped with long ladders, crept as close to the wall as possible without exposing themselves and then sprinted the final distance. The moment they broke into the open, a Chinese machine gun opened fire, cutting them down to the last man. At noon, three Japanese planes soared overhead, dropping bombs near a Chinese-held building outside the gate. The smoke from the resulting fire briefly obscured the area. Seizing the opportunity presented by the reduced visibility, a large group of Chinese soldiers holed up inside attempted to dash back to the wall. The Japanese spotted their movement instantly, and every soldier in the line opened fire. The fleeing Chinese were mowed down like ripe grass, collapsing in heaps.  Meanwhile the battle for the Gate of Enlightenment was drawing to a close. On the Chinese side of the wall, confusion reigned regarding the overall situation on December 12. Chen Yiding, brigade commander of the 87th Division, had been warned that heads would roll if the Gate of Enlightenment fell to the Japanese. Hearing the sounds of fierce fighting on the edges of Yuhuatai and seeing the smoke rise from numerous fires on Purple Mountain, he was left in the dark about their implications, surrounded by the fog of war. Chen's troops had finally managed to establish a telephone link to the rear, but by mid-afternoon, it was cut off, likely due to a stray artillery shell. After dark, Chen sent an officer to his left flank to make contact with the Chinese forces there. The report that followed was far from reassuring. A unit from Guangdong Province was abandoning its positions and retreating north, attempting to exit the capital through one of the gates in the city wall. The officer had attempted to inquire about their destination, but the retreating soldiers ignored him. With neighboring units evacuating autonomously, a significant gap was opening in the Chinese line atop the wall between the Gate of Enlightenment and Sun Yat-sen Gate. A frightening possibility emerged: the Japanese could walk right in across the undefended southeastern corner of the city wall and surround Chen Yiding's troops before they had a chance to withdraw. The situation was becoming untenable, a fact underscored by the artillery fire raining down on Chen's position. Despite this, retreat was not a simple decision for Chen and the other commanders of the 87th Division. They had been garrisoned in Nanjing before the war, and the city had become home to many of the soldiers. Shortly after midnight, Chen called a meeting with his senior officers. After considerable discussion, they concluded that they had no choice but to withdraw. Nonetheless, Chen insisted that everyone sign a document confirming their support for this decision, recognizing the potential danger of taking such a significant step without consensus. After all, his own life had been threatened if the situation deteriorated further. Soon after, the Chinese began to move out of their positions. The Japanese were initially unaware of the retreat; all they noticed during the night between December 12 and 13 was that the Chinese artillery fire began to grow increasingly distant. By 4:00 am it had stopped completely. The few remaining Chinese were quickly overwhelmed and killed. In the end, the gate, which had cost so many lives during the seemingly endless battle, was taken almost effortlessly by the Japanese. Soldiers of the 9th Division, stationed outside the wall, scrambled up the slope created by the previous days' shelling. Once at the top, they thrust their hands into the air, shouting “Banzai!” so loudly that they believed their families back home in Japan might hear them. Tears streamed down their faces as soldiers embraced and shook hands, reflecting on the friends they had lost throughout the months of fighting, from Shanghai to their current position. They reassured each other that their sacrifices had been worth it for this very moment. On December 12,  the slopes of Purple Mountain  were ablaze. Zhou Zhenqiang, commander of the Training Division's 1st Brigade, led his men in a desperate struggle to maintain control of the mountain's forested peaks. However, they were being overwhelmed by the better-equipped Japanese troops, and Zhou knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to relinquish his position. Zhou found himself unable to obtain any information from his superiors about the overall situation, despite repeated attempts to contact the Training Division's headquarters. He dispatched a runner, who returned a few hours later with disheartening news: the divisional commander had left late in the afternoon. Other reports indicated a general breakdown in command. The elite 88th Division was in disarray, and an entire division of Guangdong troops, that being the same force that had abandoned the wall near the Gate of Enlightenment, had been spotted marching out of the Gate of Great Peace, seemingly intent on returning home. With indications of collapse all around him, Zhou decided to execute an orderly withdrawal from Purple Mountain, leaving a small contingent behind to cover the retreat. His troops entered through the city wall at Sun Yat-sen Gate and marched in disciplined columns through the streets of Nanjing, where signs of imminent anarchy were evident. Chinese soldiers were scattered everywhere, speaking a cacophony of dialects, yet they appeared to lack any coherent command. Tang Shengzhi's grip on the situation was weakening. Meanwhile Japan's 13th Air Group had been busy with the final stages of the battle for Nanjing.  In the morning of December 12, after raiding Chinese positions at Sun Yat-sen Gate, they  received new orders. Intelligence indicated that Chinese ships, laden with troops, were moving up the Yangtze from Nanjing. Japanese infantry on the ground could only watch as this prize slipped through their fingers, and the army requested air support. All available planes at Changzhou, a mix of A4N fighters and Yokosuka B4Y bombers, totaling 24 aircraft, were assembled for the crucial mission. The day was clear, providing excellent visibility as the pilots headed toward the section of the Yangtze where they believed the vessels would be, based on reasonable assumptions about their speed. At 1:30 p.m., 28 nautical miles upriver from Nanjing, the pilots sighted four ships. Trusting their military intelligence, they saw no need for further identification. Initially, the B4Ys bombed the vessels from a considerable height. One bomb struck the lead ship, a military vessel, disabling its forward gun and snapping the foremast. Then, a first wave of six A4Ns dove down over the line of ships, attacking individually. In total, they dropped about 20 bombs. Several exploded close enough to the lead vessel to damage its hull and injure crew members on deck. A 30-caliber machine gun on board was manned, with gunners stripped to the waist firing at the Japanese planes but failing to score a hit. Several of the A4Ns strafed the ship with machine-gun fire. After 20 minutes of sustained bombing and strafing, the result was utter devastation. The lead vessel was stuck in mid-river, riddled with bullets, aflame, and listing to starboard. Two other ships were beached on the right bank, while another sat stranded on the left. Satisfied with their mission, the Japanese aviators broke off and returned to their temporary base. Upon their landing in Changzhou, instead of receiving accolades, the pilots were met with reprimands. Why hadn't they sunk all the vessels? They were ordered to return immediately to finish the job. Though they didn't find the original targets, they stumbled upon four other vessels closer to Nanjing. One aircraft dove toward the ships, releasing a 60-kilogram bomb that struck one vessel. As the pilot pulled up, he caught sight of the Union Jack on the hull and realized his mistake; he had inadvertently targeted neutral ships. The other pilots recognized the significance of the markings as well and withheld their bombs. The vessel was identified as the SS Wantung. Soon after, the Japanese pilots understood that the ships they had attacked earlier upriver from Nanjing were also Western; three of them were Standard Oil tankers. The last vessel, which had sustained the most damage, was the USS Panay, a lightly armed flat-bottomed gunboat,  tasked with protecting American lives and property along China's longest river. The Panay had been instrumental in evacuating American citizens from the war zone in November and December. On the day it was attacked, the Panay was carrying four American embassy personnel and ten American and foreign journalists to safety. The ship's doctor converted the engine room into a makeshift sick bay, treating a steady stream of injured personnel. By the end, he was tending to 45 patients. The soldiers and passengers were evacuated in two small boats to a nearby marshy island covered in reeds, where they hid, fearful of further strafing. From their hiding place, they watched as a Japanese powerboat filled with soldiers approached the Panay. After firing more volleys at the vessel, the soldiers boarded it, remaining for only five minutes before departing. The American flag still flew from the bow at that time. At 3:54 pm, the Panay rolled over to starboard and sank in seven to ten fathoms of water. Cold and frightened, the survivors waded through knee-deep mud to a nearby village, assisting those too severely wounded to walk.  Meanwhile back at Chinese Gate, the mutual slaughter continued into the afternoon of December 12. The Japanese made no significant progress, although their failure was not for lack of trying. The commanders of the 6th Division had strategically placed the boundary between the 13th and 47th Regiments exactly at the gate, encouraging both units to compete to be the first to seize the position. Yet, despite their efforts, it became clear that willpower alone was not enough to breach the Chinese defenses at Chinese Gate. In peacetime, Nanjing's city gates served as entry points into a bustling capital, but in wartime, they transformed into heavily fortified and nearly impregnable strongholds. Any Japanese officer hoping for a swift victory would soon be disappointed; by early afternoon, the situation at the gate had devolved into a stalemate. The section of the wall manned by the 47th Infantry Regiment, located east of the gate, also saw little meaningful movement as the day wore on. Japanese soldiers, pinned down by Chinese fire from atop the wall, could do little more than take pride in a symbolic triumph. A small group of soldiers had managed to reach the wall and place a ladder against it, but it fell nearly ten feet short of the top. One soldier skillfully scaled the last portion, gripping protruding bricks and crevices of the nearly vertical surface. The entire Japanese front watched him with bated breath. He reached the top and unfurled a Japanese flag, but it immediately drew intense Chinese fire, forcing him to duck for cover. Soon, he vanished from sight, raising concerns among his compatriots about his fate. Later, it was revealed that he had taken refuge in a depression in the wall, waiting out the battle. The real breakthrough of the day would occur west of the gate. The 23rd Regiment was deployed there with orders to capture sections of the wall near the southwestern corner. It became evident that the wall could not be scaled without first bringing up artillery to create gaps in its solid masonry. A significant portion of the divisional fire support, 36 small-caliber mountain guns, four 100mm howitzers, and four 150mm howitzers, was assigned to this section. Artillery observers were also sent to the 23rd Regiment's forward command post to coordinate with the infantry and assess the effects of the shelling. By mid-afternoon, the artillery bombardment had created a ravine-like hole in the wall large enough for an assault. The 23rd Regiment positioned its 2nd and 3rd Battalions at the front, with the 1st Battalion held in reserve. First, the engineers undertook the challenging task. As the assault commenced, the rest of the regiment provided covering fire to force the Chinese defenders to seek shelter while the engineers charged into the 70-foot-wide moat. Once a human chain formed, they held up ladders as a makeshift bridge, allowing a company from the 3rd Battalion to rush across and into the gap in the wall. As the batteries switched to close infantry support, they laid down a barrage around the breach to prevent Chinese interference as the attack entered its decisive phase. The Japanese soldiers scrambled up the rubble, created by the artillery fire, which rose several dozen feet high. Shortly before 5:00 p.m., the Japanese seized control of the southwestern segment of the wall. The Chinese launched several counterattacks to reclaim the position, but none were successful. This action ultimately sealed Nanjing's fate; beyond the wall, there was nothing left to save the ancient city and its inhabitants. As defeat appeared imminent, more and more civilians sought safety in foreign-controlled areas, though danger still loomed large. Bits of shrapnel narrowly missed Dr. Robert Wilson while he operated in the Safety Zone. Every square foot of John Rabe's property became filled with families, many camping in the open with their own blankets. Some sought refuge under his large swastika flag, believing that this would make the area especially “bomb-proof” given the growing friendship between Tokyo and Berlin; they assumed Japanese aviators would think twice before targeting a region seemingly under German protection. With just hours left before the Japanese Army was expected to gain control, the residents of Nanjing made their last preparations, prioritizing personal survival. The brutal behavior of Japanese troops in conquered territories fueled intense concern over the possible fate of injured soldiers who might fall into enemy hands. As Nanjing's last hours as a free city unfolded, it became imperative for local hospitals to evacuate as many wounded soldiers as possible across the Yangtze. On December 12, doctors found a motorboat stranded on the riverbank, having apparently broken down. They managed to repair it and ferried several hundred patients to safety throughout the day. Throughout December 12, the citizens of Nanjing were subjected to the unsettling cacophony of heavy shelling, mixed with the roar of bombers overhead. By evening, the entire horizon south of the city glowed with flames. The sound of fighting emanated from all directions, continuing long after sunset. However, in the middle of the night, activity began to wan. Every few minutes, the muffled thuds of shells could still be heard, though their origin was unclear. For the most part, an eerie silence prevailed, as if the city was holding its breath in anticipation of the final onslaught. Chiang Kai-shek had indicated he would understand if Tang chose to abandon the capital. However, on December 12, he reversed his stance, sending a telegram to Tang expressing optimism that the Nanjing garrison could hold out significantly longer. In his words “If you do not shy away from sacrifices, you will be able to hold high the banner of our nation and our army, and this could transform defeat into victory. If you can hold out one more day, you will add to the pride of the Chinese nation. If you can hold out for half a month or more, the domestic and international situation could see a substantial change.” Tang adopted a hardline approach toward any signs of defeatism among his troops. When he learned that General Sun Yuanliang, commander of the formerly elite 88th Division, was leading approximately 2,000 men from the Gate of Enlightenment to the dock area, Tang acted swiftly. He dispatched Song Xilian, the commanding general of the 36th Division, to halt the retreat. When the two units met, a fratricidal clash nearly occurred. Fortunately, the 88th Division agreed to return to the gate and continue fighting. Whatever Tang's plans, they were rendered irrelevant at 3:00 pm,  when he received another telegram from Chiang, this time ordering a full retreat. Rumors that the Chinese Army had started evacuating Nanjing triggerec panic among many units. Thousands abandoned their positions and joined the throngs of soldiers and civilians moving slowly down the city's main avenues. The crowd seemed to have collectively decided that getting a boat out of Nanjing was the best option, and by late afternoon, a solid mass of humanity stretched for miles through the city toward the dock areas at Xiaguan. To reach Xiaguan, everyone had to pass through Yijiang Gate. This relatively modern structure had served as the main entry point for visitors arriving in Nanjing by boat in recent decades and now only half of the main entrance was open. A crowd of that size trying to get through such a narrow bottleneck was a recipe for disaster. Those unfortunate enough to be right at the front felt the crushing pressure of tens of thousands of individuals pushing from behind. In that densely packed throng, stumbling and falling to the ground was akin to a death sentence; anyone who went down was inevitably crushed by the oncoming waves of terrified civilians and soldiers. As chaos erupted, discipline evaporated entirely. Officers lost control over their men, leading to infighting among the soldiers. Pushing and shoving escalated into fistfights, and trucks drove directly into the mass of people to force their way through. Tanks, emitting sounds akin to prehistoric beasts, rolled through the mob, crushing many under their weight. Amid the madness, some soldiers, driven by frustration over the lack of movement, began shooting into the crowd at random. To relieve the pressure at Yijiang Gate, some units were ordered to exit Nanjing via the Gate of Great Peace at the northeastern corner of the city wall. Upon arrival, they found the entrance nearly sealed shut. Thick walls of sandbags had been erected around it, leaving only a narrow opening through which one person could pass at a time. Massive crowds fought among themselves to get through; even under perfect order and discipline, it would have taken the entire night and most of the following day for everyone to pass. In the midst of the frantic chaos, it could take a week or more. During the night of the 12th, a select group of Japanese soldiers, chosen for the offensive, stripped their equipment down to the bare essentials: rifles, bayonets, and helmets. They avoided any gear that could produce a metallic noise, alerting the Chinese defenders to their approach. Stealthily, they moved up to the wall, carrying bamboo ladders tied together in threes for added height. Ascending the rungs, they ensured not to make a sound that could betray their position to an alert Chinese sentry. Everything hinged on remaining undetected; even a couple of hand grenades tossed down the wall could halt the attack in its tracks. Reaching the top without being noticed, the soldiers quickly fanned out. Chinese soldiers stationed on the wall saw the swift dark figures and opened fire, but it was too late to thwart the assault. A brief fight ensued; most Japanese soldiers were too close to use their rifles and immediately resorted to their bayonets. The stunned defenders were pushed back, and the successful assault team established a perimeter, awaiting reinforcements from outside the wall. They didn't have to wait long. A massive assault along the length of the 6th Division's front line commenced at dawn on December 13. Japanese artillery concentrated its fire on a narrow section of the city wall, progressively working its way from the bottom up. Gradually, the shells formed a slope of debris that soldiers could use to scale the wall. A short air raid was executed, and after the planes had weakened the remaining resistance, a group of soldiers rushed up the slope. While their comrades provided covering fire, they climbed the last stretch, rolling down a rope ladder. Within minutes, 40 other Japanese soldiers had joined them. By 10:30 am, the Rising Sun flag was flying over the wall. The Japanese invaders were met with a horrific sight at the top of the wall. Beyond lay the grim aftermath of days of shelling. Some houses were leveled, while others burned. The ground was littered with bodies, some decapitated or disemboweled, and pools of blood surrounded them. As Chiang Kai-shek's order to abandon the city gradually filtered down to the troops manning the wall around Nanjing, things began to move rapidly.  By late morning on December 13, all the major entry points into the city had fallen to the Japanese. These included Chinese Gate in the southwest, the Gate of Enlightenment in the south, and Sun Yat-sen Gate in the east. The first thing that struck the Japanese soldiers upon ascending the wall was how starkly different it was from their expectations. They had anticipated a bustling city teeming with people, but instead, the area adjacent to the wall was characterized by farm plots, resembling countryside more than an urban center. The second notable observation was the complete absence of inhabitants. Cautiously, the Japanese soldiers entered the city they had just conquered, their bayonets fixed and rifles at the ready. Yet, surprisingly, very few shots were fired. After weeks of fearing death and injury, once the immediate danger receded, a certain stupor settled in. For most civilians in Nanjing, their initial encounter with the city's new rulers was uneventful. It took several hours for the Japanese to move from the wall into the urban parts of the capital. It was not until around noon that residents noticed the first groups of Japanese soldiers marching down the streets in clusters of six to twelve men. Initially, many met the conquerors with relief, hoping they would be treated fairly. Their optimism was bolstered by Japanese planes dropping leaflets over the city, reassuring residents of humane treatment. 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. On December 9, fierce battles erupted, especially at the Gate of Enlightenment. Despite heavy fighting, the Chinese showed remarkable resilience, turning Nanjing into a symbol of determination. However, the tide shifted as overwhelming Japanese artillery and tactics began to breach defenses. By December 13, as chaos engulfed the city, the invaders claimed victory, but not without significant loss. Civilians, caught amid the destruction, clung to hope amid despair.

Last time we spoke about the surrender of Japan. Emperor Hirohito announced the surrender on August 15, prompting mixed public reactions: grief, shock, and sympathy for the Emperor, tempered by fear of hardship and occupation. The government's response included resignations and suicide as new leadership was brought in under Prime Minister Higashikuni, with Mamoru Shigemitsu as Foreign Minister and Kawabe Torashiro heading a delegation to Manila. General MacArthur directed the occupation plan, “Blacklist,” prioritizing rapid, phased entry into key Japanese areas and Korea, while demobilizing enemy forces. The surrender ceremony occurred aboard the Missouri in Tokyo Bay on September 2, with Wainwright, Percival, Nimitz, and UN representatives in attendance. Civilians and soldiers across Asia began surrendering, and postwar rehabilitation, Indochina and Vietnam's independence movements, and Southeast Asian transitions rapidly unfolded as Allied forces established control. This episode is the Aftermath of the Pacific War Welcome to the Pacific War Podcast Week by Week, 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 world war two? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on world war two 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 you can find a few videos all the way from the Opium Wars of the 1800's until the end of the Pacific War in 1945.  The Pacific War has ended. Peace has been restored by the Allies and most of the places conquered by the Japanese Empire have been liberated. In this post-war period, new challenges would be faced for those who won the war; and from the ashes of an empire, a defeated nation was also seeking to rebuild. As the Japanese demobilized their armed forces, many young boys were set to return to their homeland, even if they had previously thought that they wouldn't survive the ordeal. And yet, there were some cases of isolated men that would continue to fight for decades even, unaware that the war had already ended.  As we last saw, after the Japanese surrender, General MacArthur's forces began the occupation of the Japanese home islands, while their overseas empire was being dismantled by the Allies. To handle civil administration, MacArthur established the Military Government Section, commanded by Brigadier-General William Crist, staffed by hundreds of US experts trained in civil governance who were reassigned from Okinawa and the Philippines. As the occupation began, Americans dispatched tactical units and Military Government Teams to each prefecture to ensure that policies were faithfully carried out. By mid-September, General Eichelberger's 8th Army had taken over the Tokyo Bay region and began deploying to occupy Hokkaido and the northern half of Honshu. Then General Krueger's 6th Army arrived in late September, taking southern Honshu and Shikoku, with its base in Kyoto. In December, 6th Army was relieved of its occupation duties; in January 1946, it was deactivated, leaving the 8th Army as the main garrison force. By late 1945, about 430,000 American soldiers were garrisoned across Japan. President Truman approved inviting Allied involvement on American terms, with occupation armies integrated into a US command structure. Yet with the Chinese civil war and Russia's reluctance to place its forces under MacArthur's control, only Australia, Britain, India, and New Zealand sent brigades, more than 40,000 troops in southwestern Japan. Japanese troops were gradually disarmed by order of their own commanders, so the stigma of surrender would be less keenly felt by the individual soldier. In the homeland, about 1.5 million men were discharged and returned home by the end of August. Demobilization overseas, however, proceeded, not quickly, but as a long, difficult process of repatriation. In compliance with General Order No. 1, the Japanese Imperial General Headquarters disbanded on September 13 and was superseded by the Japanese War Department to manage demobilization. By November 1, the homeland had demobilized 2,228,761 personnel, roughly 97% of the Homeland Army. Yet some 6,413,215 men remained to be repatriated from overseas. On December 1, the Japanese War Ministry dissolved, and the First Demobilization Ministry took its place. The Second Demobilization Ministry was established to handle IJN demobilization, with 1,299,868 sailors, 81% of the Navy, demobilized by December 17. Japanese warships and merchant ships had their weapons rendered inoperative, and suicide craft were destroyed. Forty percent of naval vessels were allocated to evacuations in the Philippines, and 60% to evacuations of other Pacific islands. This effort eventually repatriated about 823,984 men to Japan by February 15, 1946. As repatriation accelerated, by October 15 only 1,909,401 men remained to be repatriated, most of them in the Soviet Union. Meanwhile, the Higashikuni Cabinet and Foreign Minister Shigemitsu Mamoru managed to persuade MacArthur not to impose direct military rule or martial law over all of Japan. Instead, the occupation would be indirect, guided by the Japanese government under the Emperor's direction. An early decision to feed occupation forces from American supplies, and to allow the Japanese to use their own limited food stores, helped ease a core fear: that Imperial forces would impose forced deliveries on the people they conquered. On September 17, MacArthur transferred his headquarters from Yokohama to Tokyo, setting up primary offices on the sixth floor of the Dai-Ichi Mutual Life Insurance Building, an imposing edifice overlooking the moat and the Imperial palace grounds in Hibiya, a symbolic heart of the nation.  While the average soldier did not fit the rapacious image of wartime Japanese propagandists, occupation personnel often behaved like neo-colonial overlords. The conquerors claimed privileges unimaginable to most Japanese. Entire trains and train compartments, fitted with dining cars, were set aside for the exclusive use of occupation forces. These silenced, half-empty trains sped past crowded platforms, provoking ire as Japanese passengers were forced to enter and exit packed cars through punched-out windows, or perch on carriage roofs, couplings, and running boards, often with tragic consequences. The luxury express coaches became irresistible targets for anonymous stone-throwers. During the war, retrenchment measures had closed restaurants, cabarets, beer halls, geisha houses, and theatres in Tokyo and other large cities. Now, a vast leisure industry sprang up to cater to the needs of the foreign occupants. Reopened restaurants and theatres, along with train stations, buses, and streetcars, were sometimes kept off limits to Allied personnel, partly for security, partly to avoid burdening Japanese resources, but a costly service infrastructure was built to the occupiers' specifications. Facilities reserved for occupation troops bore large signs reading “Japanese Keep Out” or “For Allied Personnel Only.” In downtown Tokyo, important public buildings requisitioned for occupation use had separate entrances for Americans and Japanese. The effect? A subtle but clear colour bar between the predominantly white conquerors and the conquered “Asiatic” Japanese. Although MacArthur was ready to work through the Japanese government, he lacked the organizational infrastructure to administer a nation of 74 million. Consequently, on October 2, MacArthur dissolved the Military Government Section and inaugurated General Headquarters, Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, a separate headquarters focused on civil affairs and operating in tandem with the Army high command. SCAP immediately assumed responsibility for administering the Japanese home islands. It commandeered every large building not burned down to house thousands of civilians and requisitioned vast tracts of prime real estate to quarter several hundred thousand troops in the Tokyo–Yokohama area alone. Amidst the rise of American privilege, entire buildings were refurbished as officers' clubs, replete with slot machines and gambling parlours installed at occupation expense. The Stars and Stripes were hoisted over Tokyo, while the display of the Rising Sun was banned; and the downtown area, known as “Little America,” was transformed into a US enclave. The enclave mentality of this cocooned existence was reinforced by the arrival within the first six months of roughly 700 American families. At the peak of the occupation, about 14,800 families employed some 25,000 Japanese servants to ease the “rigours” of overseas duty. Even enlisted men in the sparse quonset-hut towns around the city lived like kings compared with ordinary Japanese. Japanese workers cleaned barracks, did kitchen chores, and handled other base duties. The lowest private earned a 25% hardship bonus until these special allotments were discontinued in 1949. Most military families quickly adjusted to a pampered lifestyle that went beyond maids and “boys,” including cooks, laundresses, babysitters, gardeners, and masseuses. Perks included spacious quarters with swimming pools, central heating, hot running water, and modern plumbing. Two observers compared GHQ to the British Raj at its height. George F. Kennan, head of the State Department's Policy Planning Staff, warned during his 1948 mission to Japan that Americans had monopolized “everything that smacks of comfort or elegance or luxury,” criticizing what he called the “American brand of philistinism” and the “monumental imperviousness” of MacArthur's staff to the Japanese suffering. This conqueror's mentality also showed in the bullying attitudes many top occupation officials displayed toward the Japanese with whom they dealt. Major Faubion Bowers, MacArthur's military secretary, later said, “I and nearly all the occupation people I knew were extremely conceited and extremely arrogant and used our power every inch of the way.” Initially, there were spasms of defiance against the occupation forces, such as anonymous stone-throwing, while armed robbery and minor assaults against occupation personnel were rife in the weeks and months after capitulation. Yet active resistance was neither widespread nor organized. The Americans successfully completed their initial deployment without violence, an astonishing feat given a heavily armed and vastly superior enemy operating on home terrain. The average citizen regarded the occupation as akin to force majeure, the unfortunate but inevitable aftermath of a natural calamity. Japan lay prostrate. Industrial output had fallen to about 10% of pre-war levels, and as late as 1946, more than 13 million remained unemployed. Nearly 40% of Japan's urban areas had been turned to rubble, and some 9 million people were homeless. The war-displaced, many of them orphans, slept in doorways and hallways, in bombed-out ruins, dugouts and packing crates, under bridges or on pavements, and crowded the hallways of train and subway stations. As winter 1945 descended, with food, fuel, and clothing scarce, people froze to death. Bonfires lit the streets to ward off the chill. "The only warm hands I have shaken thus far in Japan belonged to Americans," Mark Gayn noted in December 1945. "The Japanese do not have much of a chance to thaw out, and their hands are cold and red." Unable to afford shoes, many wore straw sandals; those with geta felt themselves privileged. The sight of a man wearing a woman's high-buttoned shoes in winter epitomized the daily struggle to stay dry and warm. Shantytowns built of scrap wood, rusted metal, and scavenged odds and ends sprang up everywhere, resembling vast junk yards. The poorest searched smouldering refuse heaps for castoffs that might be bartered for a scrap to eat or wear. Black markets (yami'ichi) run by Japanese, Koreans, and For-mosans mushroomed to replace collapsed distribution channels and cash in on inflated prices. Tokyo became "a world of scarcity in which every nail, every rag, and even a tangerine peel [had a] market value." Psychologically numbed, disoriented, and disillusioned with their leaders, demobilized veterans and civilians alike struggled to get their bearings, shed militaristic ideologies, and begin to embrace new values. In the vacuum of defeat, the Japanese people appeared ready to reject the past and grasp at the straw held out by the former enemy. Relations between occupier and occupied were not smooth, however. American troops comported themselves like conquerors, especially in the early weeks and months of occupation. Much of the violence was directed against women, with the first attacks beginning within hours after the landing of advance units. When US paratroopers landed in Sapporo, an orgy of looting, sexual violence, and drunken brawling ensued. Newspaper accounts reported 931 serious offences by GIs in the Yokohama area during the first week of occupation, including 487 armed robberies, 411 thefts of currency or goods, 9 rapes, 5 break-ins, 3 cases of assault and battery, and 16 other acts of lawlessness. In the first 10 days of occupation, there were 1,336 reported rapes by US soldiers in Kanagawa Prefecture alone. Americans were not the only perpetrators. A former prostitute recalled that when Australian troops arrived in Kure in early 1946, they “dragged young women into their jeeps, took them to the mountain, and then raped them. I heard them screaming for help nearly every night.” Such behaviour was commonplace, but news of criminal activity by occupation forces was quickly suppressed. On September 10, 1945, SCAP issued press and pre-censorship codes outlawing the publication of reports and statistics "inimical to the objectives of the occupation." In the sole instance of self-help General Eichelberger records in his memoirs, when locals formed a vigilante group and retaliated against off-duty GIs, 8th Army ordered armored vehicles into the streets and arrested the ringleaders, who received lengthy prison terms. Misbehavior ranged from black-market activity, petty theft, reckless driving, and disorderly conduct to vandalism, arson, murder, and rape. Soldiers and sailors often broke the law with impunity, and incidents of robbery, rape, and even murder were widely reported. Gang rapes and other sex atrocities were not infrequent; victims, shunned as outcasts, sometimes turned to prostitution in desperation, while others took their own lives to avoid bringing shame to their families. Military courts arrested relatively few soldiers for these offenses and convicted even fewer; Japanese attempts at self-defense were punished severely, and restitution for victims was rare. Fearing the worst, Japanese authorities had already prepared countermeasures against the supposed rapacity of foreign soldiers. Imperial troops in East Asia and the Pacific had behaved brutally toward women, so the government established “sexual comfort-stations” manned by geisha, bar hostesses, and prostitutes to “satisfy the lust of the Occupation forces,” as the Higashikuni Cabinet put it. A budget of 100 million yen was set aside for these Recreation and Amusement Associations, financed initially with public funds but run as private enterprises under police supervision. Through these, the government hoped to protect the daughters of the well-born and middle class by turning to lower-class women to satisfy the soldiers' sexual appetites. By the end of 1945, brothel operators had rounded up an estimated 20,000 young women and herded them into RAA establishments nationwide. Eventually, as many as 70,000 are said to have ended up in the state-run sex industry. Thankfully, as military discipline took hold and fresh troops replaced the Allied veterans responsible for the early crime wave, violence subsided and the occupier's patronising behavior and the ugly misdeeds of a lawless few were gradually overlooked. However, fraternisation was frowned upon by both sides, and segregation was practiced in principle, with the Japanese excluded from areas reserved for Allied personnel until September 1949, when MacArthur lifted virtually all restrictions on friendly association, stating that he was “establishing the same relations between occupation personnel and the Japanese population as exists between troops stationed in the United States and the American people.” In principle, the Occupation's administrative structure was highly complex. The Far Eastern Commission, based in Washington, included representatives from all 13 countries that had fought against Japan and was established in 1946 to formulate basic principles. The Allied Council for Japan was created in the same year to assist in developing and implementing surrender terms and in administering the country. It consisted of representatives from the USA, the USSR, Nationalist China, and the British Commonwealth. Although both bodies were active at first, they were largely ineffectual due to unwieldy decision-making, disagreements between the national delegations (especially the USA and USSR), and the obstructionism of General Douglas MacArthur. In practice, SCAP, the executive authority of the occupation, effectively ruled Japan from 1945 to 1952. And since it took orders only from the US government, the Occupation became primarily an American affair. The US occupation program, effectively carried out by SCAP, was revolutionary and rested on a two-pronged approach. To ensure Japan would never again become a menace to the United States or to world peace, SCAP pursued disarmament and demilitarization, with continuing control over Japan's capacity to make war. This involved destroying military supplies and installations, demobilizing more than five million Japanese soldiers, and thoroughly discrediting the military establishment. Accordingly, SCAP ordered the purge of tens of thousands of designated persons from public service positions, including accused war criminals, military officers, leaders of ultranationalist societies, leaders in the Imperial Rule Assistance Association, business leaders tied to overseas expansion, governors of former Japanese colonies, and national leaders who had steered Japan into war. In addition, MacArthur's International Military Tribunal for the Far East established a military court in Tokyo. It had jurisdiction over those charged with Class A crimes, top leaders who had planned and directed the war. Also considered were Class B charges, covering conventional war crimes, and Class C charges, covering crimes against humanity. Yet the military court in Tokyo wouldn't be the only one. More than 5,700 lower-ranking personnel were charged with conventional war crimes in separate trials convened by Australia, China, France, the Dutch East Indies, the Philippines, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Of the 5,700 Japanese individuals indicted for Class B war crimes, 984 were sentenced to death; 475 received life sentences; 2,944 were given more limited prison terms; 1,018 were acquitted; and 279 were never brought to trial or not sentenced. Among these, many, like General Ando Rikichi and Lieutenant-General Nomi Toshio, chose to commit suicide before facing prosecution. Notable cases include Lieutenant-General Tani Hisao, who was sentenced to death by the Nanjing War Crimes Tribunal for his role in the Nanjing Massacre; Lieutenant-General Sakai Takashi, who was executed in Nanjing for the murder of British and Chinese civilians during the occupation of Hong Kong. General Okamura Yasuji was convicted of war crimes by the Tribunal, yet he was immediately protected by the personal order of Nationalist leader Chiang Kai-Shek, who kept him as a military adviser for the Kuomintang. In the Manila trials, General Yamashita Tomoyuki was sentenced to death as he was in overall command during the Sook Ching massacre, the Rape of Manila, and other atrocities. Lieutenant-General Homma Masaharu was likewise executed in Manila for atrocities committed by troops under his command during the Bataan Death March. General Imamura Hitoshi was sentenced to ten years in prison, but he considered the punishment too light and even had a replica of the prison built in his garden, remaining there until his death in 1968. Lieutenant-General Kanda Masatane received a 14-year sentence for war crimes on Bougainville, though he served only four years. Lieutenant-General Adachi Hatazo was sentenced to life imprisonment for war crimes in New Guinea and subsequently committed suicide on September 10, 1947. Lieutenant-General Teshima Fusataro received three years of forced labour for using a hospital ship to transport troops. Lieutenant-General Baba Masao was sentenced to death for ordering the Sandakan Death Marches, during which over 2,200 Australian and British prisoners of war perished. Lieutenant-General Tanabe Moritake was sentenced to death by a Dutch military tribunal for unspecified war crimes. Rear-Admiral Sakaibara Shigematsu was executed in Guam for ordering the Wake Island massacre, in which 98 American civilians were murdered. Lieutenant-General Inoue Sadae was condemned to death in Guam for permitting subordinates to execute three downed American airmen captured in Palau, though his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment in 1951 and he was released in 1953. Lieutenant-General Tachibana Yoshio was sentenced to death in Guam for his role in the Chichijima Incident, in which eight American airmen were cannibalized. By mid-1945, due to the Allied naval blockade, the 25,000 Japanese troops on Chichijima had run low on supplies. However, although the daily rice ration had been reduced from 400 grams per person per day to 240 grams, the troops were not at risk of starvation. In February and March 1945, in what would later be called the Chichijima incident, Tachibana Yoshio's senior staff turned to cannibalism. Nine American airmen had escaped from their planes after being shot down during bombing raids on Chichijima, eight of whom were captured. The ninth, the only one to evade capture, was future US President George H. W. Bush, then a 20-year-old pilot. Over several months, the prisoners were executed, and reportedly by the order of Major Matoba Sueyo, their bodies were butchered by the division's medical orderlies, with the livers and other organs consumed by the senior staff, including Matoba's superior Tachibana. In the Yokohama War Crimes Trials, Lieutenant-Generals Inada Masazumi and Yokoyama Isamu were convicted for their complicity in vivisection and other human medical experiments performed at Kyushu Imperial University on downed Allied airmen. The Tokyo War Crimes Trial, which began in May 1946 and lasted two and a half years, resulted in the execution by hanging of Generals Doihara Kenji and Itagaki Seishiro, and former Prime Ministers Hirota Koki and Tojo Hideki, for war crimes, crimes against humanity, and crimes against peace, specifically for the escalation of the Pacific War and for permitting the inhumane treatment of prisoners of war. Also sentenced to death were Lieutenant-General Muto Akira for his role in the Nanjing and Manila massacres; General Kimura Heitaro for planning the war strategy in China and Southeast Asia and for laxity in preventing atrocities against prisoners of war in Burma; and General Matsui Iwane for his involvement in the Rape of Nanjing. The seven defendants who were sentenced to death were executed at Sugamo Prison in Ikebukuro on December 23, 1948. Sixteen others were sentenced to life imprisonment, including the last Field Marshal Hata Shunroku, Generals Araki Sadao, Minami Hiro, and Umezu Shojiro, Admiral Shimada Shigetaro, former Prime Ministers Hiranuma Kiichiro and Koiso Kuniaki, Marquis Kido Koichi, and Colonel Hashimoto Kingoro, a major instigator of the second Sino-Japanese War. Additionally, former Foreign Ministers Togo Shigenori and Shigemitsu Mamoru received seven- and twenty-year sentences, respectively. The Soviet Union and Chinese Communist forces also held trials of Japanese war criminals, including the Khabarovsk War Crime Trials, which tried and found guilty some members of Japan's bacteriological and chemical warfare unit known as Unit 731. However, those who surrendered to the Americans were never brought to trial, as MacArthur granted immunity to Lieutenant-General Ishii Shiro and all members of the bacteriological research units in exchange for germ-w warfare data derived from human experimentation. If you would like to learn more about what I like to call Japan's Operation Paper clip, whereupon the US grabbed many scientists from Unit 731, check out my exclusive podcast. The SCAP-turn to democratization began with the drafting of a new constitution in 1947, addressing Japan's enduring feudal social structure. In the charter, sovereignty was vested in the people, and the emperor was designated a “symbol of the state and the unity of the people, deriving his position from the will of the people in whom resides sovereign power.” Because the emperor now possessed fewer powers than European constitutional monarchs, some have gone so far as to say that Japan became “a republic in fact if not in name.” Yet the retention of the emperor was, in fact, a compromise that suited both those who wanted to preserve the essence of the nation for stability and those who demanded that the emperor system, though not necessarily the emperor, should be expunged. In line with the democratic spirit of the new constitution, the peerage was abolished and the two-chamber Diet, to which the cabinet was now responsible, became the highest organ of state. The judiciary was made independent and local autonomy was granted in vital areas of jurisdiction such as education and the police. Moreover, the constitution stipulated that “the people shall not be prevented from enjoying any of the fundamental human rights,” that they “shall be respected as individuals,” and that “their right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness shall … be the supreme consideration in legislation.” Its 29 articles guaranteed basic human rights: equality, freedom from discrimination on the basis of race, creed, sex, social status or family origin, freedom of thought and freedom of religion. Finally, in its most controversial section, Article 9, the “peace clause,” Japan “renounce[d] war as a sovereign right of the nation” and vowed not to maintain any military forces and “other war potential.” To instill a thoroughly democratic ethos, reforms touched every facet of society. The dissolution of the zaibatsu decentralised economic power; the 1945 Labour Union Law and the 1946 Labour Relations Act guaranteed workers the right to collective action; the 1947 Labour Standards Law established basic working standards for men and women; and the revised Civil Code of 1948 abolished the patriarchal household and enshrined sexual equality. Reflecting core American principles, SCAP introduced a 6-3-3 schooling system, six years of compulsory elementary education, three years of junior high, and an optional three years of senior high, along with the aim of secular, locally controlled education. More crucially, ideological reform followed: censorship of feudal material in media, revision of textbooks, and prohibition of ideas glorifying war, dying for the emperor, or venerating war heroes. With women enfranchised and young people shaped to counter militarism and ultranationalism, rural Japan was transformed to undermine lingering class divisions. The land reform program provided for the purchase of all land held by absentee landlords, allowed resident landlords and owner-farmers to retain a set amount of land, and required that the remaining land be sold to the government so it could be offered to existing tenants. In 1948, amid the intensifying tensions of the Cold War that would soon culminate in the Korean War, the occupation's focus shifted from demilitarization and democratization toward economic rehabilitation and, ultimately, the remilitarization of Japan, an shift now known as the “Reverse Course.” The country was thus rebuilt as the Pacific region's primary bulwark against the spread of Communism. An Economic Stabilisation Programme was introduced, including a five-year plan to coordinate production and target capital through the Reconstruction Finance Bank. In 1949, the anti-inflationary Dodge Plan was adopted, advocating balanced budgets, fixing the exchange rate at 360 yen to the dollar, and ending broad government intervention. Additionally, the Ministry of International Trade and Industry was formed and supported the formation of conglomerates centered around banks, which encouraged the reemergence of a somewhat weakened set of zaibatsu, including Mitsui and Mitsubishi. By the end of the Occupation era, Japan was on the verge of surpassing its 1934–1936 levels of economic growth. Equally important was Japan's rearmament in alignment with American foreign policy: a National Police Reserve of about 75,000 was created with the outbreak of the Korean War; by 1952 it had expanded to 110,000 and was renamed the Self-Defense Force after the inclusion of an air force. However, the Reverse Course also facilitated the reestablishment of conservative politics and the rollback of gains made by women and the reforms of local autonomy and education. As the Occupation progressed, the Americans permitted greater Japanese initiative, and power gradually shifted from the reformers to the moderates. By 1949, the purge of the right came under review, and many who had been condemned began returning to influence, if not to the Diet, then to behind-the-scenes power. At the same time, Japanese authorities, with MacArthur's support, began purging left-wing activists. In June 1950, for example, the central office of the Japan Communist Party and the editorial board of The Red Flag were purged. The gains made by women also seemed to be reversed. Women were elected to 8% of available seats in the first lower-house election in 1946, but to only 2% in 1952, a trend not reversed until the so-called Madonna Boom of the 1980s. Although the number of women voting continued to rise, female politicisation remained more superficial than might be imagined. Women's employment also appeared little affected by labour legislation: though women formed nearly 40% of the labor force in 1952, they earned only 45% as much as men. Indeed, women's attitudes toward labor were influenced less by the new ethos of fulfilling individual potential than by traditional views of family and workplace responsibilities. In the areas of local autonomy and education, substantial modifications were made to the reforms. Because local authorities lacked sufficient power to tax, they were unable to realise their extensive powers, and, as a result, key responsibilities were transferred back to national jurisdiction. In 1951, for example, 90% of villages and towns placed their police forces under the control of the newly formed National Police Agency. Central control over education was also gradually reasserted; in 1951, the Yoshida government attempted to reintroduce ethics classes, proposed tighter central oversight of textbooks, and recommended abolishing local school board elections. By the end of the decade, all these changes had been implemented. The Soviet occupation of the Kurile Islands and the Habomai Islets was completed with Russian troops fully deployed by September 5. Immediately after the onset of the occupation, amid a climate of insecurity and fear marked by reports of sporadic rape and physical assault and widespread looting by occupying troops, an estimated 4,000 islanders fled to Hokkaido rather than face an uncertain repatriation. As Soviet forces moved in, they seized or destroyed telephone and telegraph installations and halted ship movements into and out of the islands, leaving residents without adequate food and other winter provisions. Yet, unlike Manchuria, where Japanese civilians faced widespread sexual violence and pillage, systematic violence against the civilian population on the Kuriles appears to have been exceptional. A series of military government proclamations assured islanders of safety so long as they did not resist Soviet rule and carried on normally; however, these orders also prohibited activities not explicitly authorized by the Red Army, which imposed many hardships on civilians. Residents endured harsh conditions under Soviet rule until late 1948, when Japanese repatriation out of the Kurils was completed. The Kuriles posed a special diplomatic problem, as the occupation of the southernmost islands—the Northern Territories—ignited a long-standing dispute between Tokyo and Moscow that continues to impede the normalisation of relations today. Although the Kuriles were promised to the Soviet Union in the Yalta agreement, Japan and the United States argued that this did not apply to the Northern Territories, since they were not part of the Kurile Islands. A substantial dispute regarding the status of the Kurile Islands arose between the United States and the Soviet Union during the preparation of the Treaty of San Francisco, which was intended as a permanent peace treaty between Japan and the Allied Powers of World War II. The treaty was ultimately signed by 49 nations in San Francisco on September 8, 1951, and came into force on April 28, 1952. It ended Japan's role as an imperial power, allocated compensation to Allied nations and former prisoners of war who had suffered Japanese war crimes, ended the Allied post-war occupation of Japan, and returned full sovereignty to Japan. Effectively, the document officially renounced Japan's treaty rights derived from the Boxer Protocol of 1901 and its rights to Korea, Formosa and the Pescadores, the Kurile Islands, the Spratly Islands, Antarctica, and South Sakhalin. Japan's South Seas Mandate, namely the Mariana Islands, Marshall Islands, and Caroline Islands, had already been formally revoked by the United Nations on July 18, 1947, making the United States responsible for administration of those islands under a UN trusteeship agreement that established the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands. In turn, the Bonin, Volcano, and Ryukyu Islands were progressively restored to Japan between 1953 and 1972, along with the Senkaku Islands, which were disputed by both Communist and Nationalist China. In addition, alongside the Treaty of San Francisco, Japan and the United States signed a Security Treaty that established a long-lasting military alliance between them. Although Japan renounced its rights to the Kuriles, the U.S. State Department later clarified that “the Habomai Islands and Shikotan ... are properly part of Hokkaido and that Japan is entitled to sovereignty over them,” hence why the Soviets refused to sign the treaty. Britain and the United States agreed that territorial rights would not be granted to nations that did not sign the Treaty of San Francisco, and as a result the Kurile Islands were not formally recognized as Soviet territory. A separate peace treaty, the Treaty of Taipei (formally the Sino-Japanese Peace Treaty), was signed in Taipei on April 28, 1952 between Japan and the Kuomintang, and on June 9 of that year the Treaty of Peace Between Japan and India followed. Finally, Japan and the Soviet Union ended their formal state of war with the Soviet–Japanese Joint Declaration of 1956, though this did not settle the Kurile Islands dispute. Even after these formal steps, Japan as a nation was not in a formal state of war, and many Japanese continued to believe the war was ongoing; those who held out after the surrender came to be known as Japanese holdouts.  Captain Oba Sakae and his medical company participated in the Saipan campaign beginning on July 7, 1944, and took part in what would become the largest banzai charge of the Pacific War. After 15 hours of intense hand-to-hand combat, almost 4,300 Japanese soldiers were dead, and Oba and his men were presumed among them. In reality, however, he survived the battle and gradually assumed command of over a hundred additional soldiers. Only five men from his original unit survived the battle, two of whom died in the following months. Oba then led over 200 Japanese civilians deeper into the jungles to evade capture, organizing them into mountain caves and hidden jungle villages. When the soldiers were not assisting the civilians with survival tasks, Oba and his men continued their battle against the garrison of US Marines. He used the 1,552‑ft Mount Tapochau as their primary base, which offered an unobstructed 360-degree view of the island. From their base camp on the western slope of the mountain, Oba and his men occasionally conducted guerrilla-style raids on American positions. Due to the speed and stealth of these operations, and the Marines' frustrated attempts to find him, the Saipan Marines eventually referred to Oba as “The Fox.” Oba and his men held out on the island for 512 days, or about 16 months. On November 27, 1945, former Major-General Amo Umahachi was able to draw out some of the Japanese in hiding by singing the anthem of the Japanese infantry branch. Amo was then able to present documents from the defunct IGHQ to Oba ordering him and his 46 remaining men to surrender themselves to the Americans. On December 1, the Japanese soldiers gathered on Tapochau and sang a song of departure to the spirits of the war dead; Oba led his people out of the jungle and they presented themselves to the Marines of the 18th Anti-Aircraft Artillery Company. With great formality and commensurate dignity, Oba surrendered his sword to Lieutenant Colonel Howard G. Kirgis, and his men surrendered their arms and colors. On January 2, 1946, 20 Japanese soldiers hiding in a tunnel at Corregidor Island surrendered after learning the war had ended from a newspaper found while collecting water. In that same month, 120 Japanese were routed after a battle in the mountains 150 miles south of Manila. In April, during a seven-week campaign to clear Lubang Island, 41 more Japanese emerged from the jungle, unaware that the war had ended; however, a group of four Japanese continued to resist. In early 1947, Lieutenant Yamaguchi Ei and his band of 33 soldiers renewed fighting with the small Marine garrison on Peleliu, prompting reinforcements under Rear-Admiral Charles Pownall to be brought to the island to hunt down the guerrilla group. Along with them came former Rear-Admiral Sumikawa Michio, who ultimately convinced Yamaguchi to surrender in April after almost three years of guerrilla warfare. Also in April, seven Japanese emerged from Palawan Island and fifteen armed stragglers emerged from Luzon. In January 1948, 200 troops surrendered on Mindanao; and on May 12, the Associated Press reported that two unnamed Japanese soldiers had surrendered to civilian policemen in Guam the day before. On January 6, 1949, two former IJN soldiers, machine gunners Matsudo Rikio and Yamakage Kufuku, were discovered on Iwo Jima and surrendered peacefully. In March 1950, Private Akatsu Yūichi surrendered in the village of Looc, leaving only three Japanese still resisting on Lubang. By 1951 a group of Japanese on Anatahan Island refused to believe that the war was over and resisted every attempt by the Navy to remove them. This group was first discovered in February 1945, when several Chamorros from Saipan were sent to the island to recover the bodies of a Saipan-based B-29. The Chamorros reported that there were about thirty Japanese survivors from three ships sunk in June 1944, one of which was an Okinawan woman. Personal aggravations developed from the close confines of a small group on a small island and from tuba drinking; among the holdouts, 6 of 11 deaths were the result of violence, and one man displayed 13 knife wounds. The presence of only one woman, Higa Kazuko, caused considerable difficulty as she would transfer her affections among at least four men after each of them mysteriously disappeared, purportedly “swallowed by the waves while fishing.” According to the more sensational versions of the Anatahan tale, 11 of the 30 navy sailors stranded on the island died due to violent struggles over her affections. In July 1950, Higa went to the beach when an American vessel appeared offshore and finally asked to be removed from the island. She was taken to Saipan aboard the Miss Susie and, upon arrival, told authorities that the men on the island did not believe the war was over. As the Japanese government showed interest in the situation on Anatahan, the families of the holdouts were contacted in Japan and urged by the Navy to write letters stating that the war was over and that the holdouts should surrender. The letters were dropped by air on June 26 and ultimately convinced the holdouts to give themselves up. Thus, six years after the end of World War II, “Operation Removal” commenced from Saipan under the command of Lt. Commander James B. Johnson, USNR, aboard the Navy Tug USS Cocopa. Johnson and an interpreter went ashore by rubber boat and formally accepted the surrender on the morning of June 30, 1951. The Anatahan femme fatale story later inspired the 1953 Japanese film Anatahan and the 1998 novel Cage on the Sea. In 1953, Murata Susumu, the last holdout on Tinian, was finally captured. The next year, on May 7, Corporal Sumada Shoichi was killed in a clash with Filipino soldiers, leaving only two Japanese still resisting on Lubang. In November 1955, Seaman Kinoshita Noboru was captured in the Luzon jungle but soon after committed suicide rather than “return to Japan in defeat.” That same year, four Japanese airmen surrendered at Hollandia in Dutch New Guinea; and in 1956, nine soldiers were located and sent home from Morotai, while four men surrendered on Mindoro. In May 1960, Sergeant Ito Masashi became one of the last Japanese to surrender at Guam after the capture of his comrade Private Minagawa Bunzo, but the final surrender at Guam would come later with Sergeant Yokoi Shoichi. Sergeant Yokoi Shoichi survived in the jungles of Guam by living for years in an elaborately dug hole, subsisting on snails and lizards, a fate that, while undignified, showcased his ingenuity and resilience and earned him a warm welcome on his return to Japan. His capture was not heroic in the traditional sense: he was found half-starving by a group of villagers while foraging for shrimp in a stream, and the broader context included his awareness as early as 1952 that the war had ended. He explained that the wartime bushido code, emphasizing self-sacrifice or suicide rather than self-preservation, had left him fearing that repatriation would label him a deserter and likely lead to execution. Emerging from the jungle, Yokoi also became a vocal critic of Japan's wartime leadership, including Emperor Hirohito, which fits a view of him as a product of, and a prisoner within, his own education, military training, and the censorship and propaganda of the era. When asked by a young nephew how he survived so long on an island just a short distance from a major American airbase, he replied simply, “I was really good at hide and seek.”  That same year, Private Kozuka Kinshichi was killed in a shootout with Philippine police in October, leaving Lieutenant Onoda Hiroo still resisting on Lubang. Lieutenant Onoda Hiroo had been on Lubang since 1944, a few months before the Americans retook the Philippines. The last instructions he had received from his immediate superior ordered him to retreat to the interior of the island and harass the Allied occupying forces until the IJA eventually returned. Despite efforts by the Philippine Army, letters and newspapers left for him, radio broadcasts, and even a plea from Onoda's brother, he did not believe the war was over. On February 20, 1974, Onoda encountered a young Japanese university dropout named Suzuki Norio, who was traveling the world and had told friends that he planned to “look for Lieutenant Onoda, a panda, and the abominable snowman, in that order.” The two became friends, but Onoda stated that he was waiting for orders from one of his commanders. On March 9, 1974, Onoda went to an agreed-upon place and found a note left by Suzuki. Suzuki had brought along Onoda's former commander, Major Taniguchi, who delivered the oral orders for Onoda to surrender. Intelligence Officer 2nd Lt. Onoda Hiroo thus emerged from Lubang's jungle with his .25 caliber rifle, 500 rounds of ammunition, and several hand grenades. He surrendered 29 years after Japan's formal surrender, and 15 years after being declared legally dead in Japan. When he accepted that the war was over, he wept openly. He received a hero's welcome upon his return to Japan in 1974. The Japanese government offered him a large sum of money in back pay, which he refused. When money was pressed on him by well-wishers, he donated it to Yasukuni Shrine. Onoda was reportedly unhappy with the attention and what he saw as the withering of traditional Japanese values. He wrote No Surrender: My Thirty-Year War, a best-selling autobiography published in 1974. Yet the last Japanese to surrender would be Private Nakamura Teruo, an Amis aborigine from Formosa and a member of the Takasago Volunteers. Private Nakamura Teruo spent the tail end of World War II with a dwindling band on Morotai, repeatedly dispersing and reassembling in the jungle as they hunted for food. The group suffered continuous losses to starvation and disease, and survivors described Nakamura as highly self-sufficient. He left to live alone somewhere in the Morotai highlands between 1946 and 1947, rejoined the main group in 1950, and then disappeared again a few years later. Nakamura hinted in print that he fled into the jungle because he feared the other holdouts might murder him. He survives for decades beyond the war, eventually being found by 11 Indonesian soldiers. The emergence of an indigenous Taiwanese soldier among the search party embarrassed Japan as it sought to move past its imperial past. Many Japanese felt Nakamura deserved compensation for decades of loyalty, only to learn that his back pay for three decades of service amounted to 68,000 yen.   Nakamura's experience of peace was complex. When a journalist asked how he felt about “wasting” three decades of his life on Morotai, he replied that the years had not been wasted; he had been serving his country. Yet the country he returned to was Taiwan, and upon disembarking in Taipei in early January 1975, he learned that his wife had a son he had never met and that she had remarried a decade after his official death. Nakamura eventually lived with a daughter, and his story concluded with a bittersweet note when his wife reconsidered and reconciled with him. Several Japanese soldiers joined local Communist and insurgent groups after the war to avoid surrender. Notably, in 1956 and 1958, two soldiers returned to Japan after service in China's People's Liberation Army. Two others who defected with a larger group to the Malayan Communist Party around 1945 laid down their arms in 1989 and repatriated the next year, becoming among the last to return home. That is all for today, but fear not I will provide a few more goodies over the next few weeks. I will be releasing some of my exclusive podcast episodes from my youtube membership and patreon that are about pacific war subjects. Like I promised the first one will be on why Emperor Hirohito surrendered. Until then if you need your fix you know where to find me: eastern front week by week, fall and rise of china, echoes of war or on my Youtube membership of patreon at www.patreon.com/pacificwarchannel.

Last time we spoke about the Japanese encirclement of Nanjing. As battles erupted around Lake Tai, the Chinese troops used guerrilla tactics and artillery to resist the technologically superior Japanese. However, internal strife and logistical issues began to weaken their defense. On December 1st, Japan's Central China Area Army was ordered to assault Nanjing, and despite heavy resistance, the Japanese forces swiftly captured key towns. By December 7th, with Japanese troops closing in, Chiang Kai-Shek prepared to evacuate the capital. Anxiety and fear gripped the city as civilians witnessed horrific atrocities in the countryside, where Japanese soldiers unleashed violence against unarmed populations. The defense of Nanjing became symbolic of Chinese perseverance against oppression. As the city faced inevitable destruction, hope rested on the courage of its defenders and the belief that they could rally against the relentless tide of attack, knowing their plight was drawing the world's attention amidst a brutal conflict.   #166 Enemy at the Gates of Nanjing  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. War was steadily creeping toward Nanjing, and the remaining residents understood this grim reality. Starting December 8, the distant sounds of artillery began to echo through the city. The following day, the first shell from a Japanese battery struck downtown, detonating at Xinjiekou square. Amid the chaos and anarchy engulfing much of Nanjing as the population dwindled, looting became rampant. Chinese soldiers were reportedly seen stealing from abandoned stores. Daily life had largely ground to a halt. To this desolate and partially lawless city, refugees from the war continued to arrive. However, on December 8, the influx of refugees came to an abrupt halt. All gates in the city wall were locked, only to be opened for urgent military needs. Even soldiers injured in battles near the city were reportedly denied entry, left to perish just minutes away from desperately needed medical care. As the Japanese forces tightened their grip around Nanjing, more civilians sought refuge in the safety zone. American missionary Ernest Forster wrote in a letter to his wife “I wish you could witness the influx of people into this area from other parts of the city. All the roads leading here are lined with groups transporting whatever possessions they can carry, tireless rickshaws, some even pulled by students, wheelbarrows, trucks, baby carriages, anything with wheels.” On the evening of December 7, bonfires lit by soldiers of Japan's 16th Infantry Division near Unicorn Gate were clearly visible from Purple Mountain, which was defended by the elite Training Division of the Chinese Army. The bonfires presented an enticing target for this division, established as a model to inspire the rest of the Chinese forces, who remained eager to prove themselves even as defeat loomed. Commander Zhou Zhenqiang of the Training Division's 1st Brigade suggested a counterattack and had a plan in place. His brigade would launch a frontal assault while the 3rd Brigade, stationed to his left, would execute a flanking maneuver to encircle the unsuspecting adversary. Although this strategy had potential, it was never put into action. The Nanjing garrison dismissed the proposal, citing that “too many of our troops are already worn down,” according to Tang Shengzhi's staff. They warned that if the counterattack failed, there wouldn't be enough soldiers left to defend Nanjing. Consequently, the Training Division was compelled to dig in and await the enemy's arrival. While Chinese defenders were ordered to hold their ground, the 16th Japanese Infantry Division approached Purple Mountain. The slopes of the mountain were cloaked in conifers, interspersed with dense bamboo thickets that created almost jungle-like combat conditions. As one Japanese soldier of the 20th regiment noted  “Just a few paces ahead, you couldn't see anything. Even worse, you didn't know where the enemy was. When we heard gunfire, we shot back at random. Bullets were flying everywhere.” As the Japanese soldiers ascended the slope, they were halfway to the mountain's summit when they encountered white smoke and the characteristic cracking of burning bamboo. The Chinese troops, benefiting from a favorable wind, had set fire to the bamboo. Swiftly, the Japanese soldiers drew their swords and bayonets, cutting a wide firebreak through the bamboo to halt the flames. At the forefront of Purple Mountain was a key defensive position known as Old Tiger's Cave, located just east of the mountain. As long as this location remained in Chinese control, the Japanese could not capture the mountain itself. Understanding its significance, Chinese commanders stationed a battalion of well-equipped and highly motivated soldiers from the Training Division's 5th Regiment there. Fighting erupted in the afternoon of December 8, when the Japanese commenced a fierce artillery barrage on Old Tiger's Cave, followed by an infantry assault aimed at taking the hill. Under the cold-blooded command of their leaders, the Chinese battalion employed disciplined and concentrated fire, inflicting heavy casualties on the advancing Japanese troops, who were unable to advance that day. The following morning, the Japanese intensified their assault, combining artillery fire and aerial bombardment on Old Tiger's Cave. Their infantry again attempted the treacherous climb, hoping smoke grenades would obscure the defenders' line of sight. Once more, they were thwarted, facing additional pressure as a neighboring Chinese unit launched a counterattack against the Japanese right flank. The successful defense came at a significant cost; by the afternoon, over half of the battalion defending Old Tiger's Cave had become casualties. Given the hill's exposed position and difficulties in resupply, the officers of the Training Division reluctantly decided to abandon the position. The battered battalion, now without its commander, retreated to the second-highest peak of Purple Mountain. While the loss of Old Tiger's Cave was a setback for the Training Division, it also conferred certain advantages. The Chinese soldiers withdrew to a series of prepared defensive lines through terrain they knew intimately. This stronghold centered on Xiaolingwei, a town where the Training Division had moved into new barracks over four years prior. The battalion's soldiers were familiar with every creek, hamlet, bamboo grove, and pond in the region. The Japanese faced a daunting challenge ahead. Due south of Nanjing, the 6th Japanese Division had finally caught up with the 114th Division and was deployed to its left for the final push toward Nanjing. Between the division and the city wall lay a terrain of hills and low mountains dominated by two prominent features known as General's Peak and Ox Head Peak. The task fell to the division's 13th Regiment to proceed north along the highway, while the 23rd Regiment maneuvered left around the mountains before advancing north along the Yangtze River. The division's artillery regiment, functioning at only half its typical strength due to two of its four battalions remaining in the Hangzhou Bay area, was ordered to concentrate its firepower in support of the 13th Regiment as it navigated the terrain beneath the mountain peaks. Unfortunately, the regiment's advance became mired in unexpected Chinese resistance, and with the artillery deployed too far behind to provide adequate support, divisional command decided to halt the advance until the following day, December 9. Under the cover of darkness, the artillery units were repositioned closer to the front, and the artillery commanders established their command on a hill nearby. At dawn, they began firing at the Chinese positions with much greater precision than the previous day. Meanwhile, a column of tankettes rolled down the road between General's Peak and Ox Head Peak in support of the 13th Regiment. The first tank when it came under attack from hidden mountain guns. The enemy scored several hits on the tank, forcing the driver to crawl out of the burning vehicle. The driver's pants were engulfed in flames, and as men attempted to extinguish the fire, enemy machine gun fire ripped into the driver's chest, killing him instantly. The second vehicle also came under fire from shells and burst into flames. The commander and his driver attempted to escape the turret but were trapped when another shell hit, engulfing them in flames. Unaware of the unfolding disaster, the column continued its advance, and two more tankettes were destroyed. This skirmish proved costly, resulting in the loss of four vehicles and seven men. Despite the heavy losses, the coordinated operations involving infantry, armored vehicles, and artillery gradually succeeded in dislodging the Chinese from their positions. By nightfall on December 9, the first Japanese soldiers arrived in the town of Tiexinqiao, just south of Nanjing. Meanwhile, the 23rd Regiment continued its advance north along routes west of the mountain range. This maneuver required the regiment to abandon the relatively solid road it had used thus far, opting instead for primitive trails ill-suited for wheeled transport. The major drawback of this shift was the slow transportation of artillery. The consequences became evident when one of the regiment's battalions was ordered to dislodge enemy positions on a low peak known as Hill 154, situated astride the main route of advancement. With no artillery support available, half the battalion's strength, two companies remained in the rear to safeguard the artillery pieces as they were being repositioned. The battalion ordered the remaining two infantry companies to mount an assault on Hill 154. In place of artillery, they were instructed to utilize small-caliber knee mortars. As the Japanese forces advanced towards Hill 154, the Chinese defenders opened fire with everything at their disposal, heavy and light machine guns, rifles, and mortars. The Japanese were quickly pinned down, moving slowly toward the summit under the cover of fire from the knee mortars. A breakthrough occurred when a Japanese light machine gun crew spotted a large group of Chinese soldiers repositioning on the hill. A sustained burst of fire from their weapon struck true, sending dead and wounded Chinese soldiers tumbling down the slope. Seizing the opportunity, the Japanese platoon commander sprang to his feet and charged up the hill, followed closely by the machine gunner, with the rest of the platoon trailing 10 to 20 yards behind. As they advanced, they encountered four Chinese soldiers raising their rifles to shoot. The Japanese machine gunner was quicker, firing from the hip and killing all four in an instant. The remainder of the skirmish descended into chaos. The Japanese soldiers captured the hill and took aim, firing carefully and lethally at the backs of the defeated Chinese as they fled northward. Other Japanese troops swept through the trenches with fixed bayonets, mercilessly killing all Chinese soldiers present, those who were injured, those who attempted to surrender, and even those feigning death. As Japan's 10th Army advanced on Nanjing from the south, the Shanghai Expeditionary Force was making its way in from the east. The tactical situation was fluid, fast-changing, and unpredictable, with Japanese spearheads penetrating deep into Chinese-held territory, often bypassing large enemy troop formations that would then courageously launch counterattacks from the rear. On December 8th, the 16th Division was advancing into some mountainous terrain north of Jurang where their vanguard ran into an ambush. 200 Japanese soldiers were having lunch over a 300 foot hilltop position when suddenly Captain Akao Junzo heard his comrade shout “Thousands of enemies are coming up from behind! They are heading right towards you!” Rushing outside, Akao witnessed what appeared to be a wall of Chinese soldiers marching down the valley from the rear. He dashed to the next building, bursting through the door to find his soldiers preparing lunch, he shouted at them “The enemy is here! Come with me!” The soldiers dropped their cooking utensils, grabbed their rifles, and followed Akao up the hillside behind the farm buildings. Initially, the fighting seemed evenly matched. However, the Japanese quickly brought up their two heavy machine guns, set up just 50 yards apart. Firing at a rate of 500 rounds per minute, they caught the Chinese troops in a devastating crossfire. Nine light machine guns soon joined the fray. Within moments, the cohesion of the Chinese formation collapsed, and as some soldiers broke ranks and began to retreat, Akao's men eagerly pursued them with fixed bayonets. A young, aggressive officer led the charge, wildly swinging his sword until it snapped in two. Akao watched with satisfaction. This was the kind of warfare he and his men had trained for tirelessly, month after month, and they executed their tactics with precision. However, his attention soon shifted to the hill across the valley where he had previously posted the observation squad. The entire hill was now crawling with Chinese soldiers, all firing at the peak where the small group of Japanese soldiers was entrenched in what appeared to be a desperate battle. Determined to reclaim the hill, Akao led part of his men in a charge uphill but found themselves pinned down by Chinese gunfire halfway up. A force of three squads had arrived, bringing with them what was urgently needed: knee mortars. They were accompanied by the officer with the broken sword. Akao directed the mortar fire towards the top of the hill, watching as each explosive shell detonated among the dense cluster of Chinese soldiers. Taking advantage of this momentary confusion and disarray, Akao and his men rapidly climbed the hill with swords drawn. Upon reaching the peak, they found only a few Chinese soldiers remaining. One of them pointed a handgun at the officer with the broken sword. Realizing he had no means of defending himself, the officer could only shout, “Bastard!” This unexpected outburst caused the Chinese soldier to hesitate for a brief moment before pulling the trigger. That split second marked the difference between life and death. Another Japanese officer, whose sword remained intact, lunged forward and cut down the would-be shooter. Following this, Akao and his men discovered the beleaguered Japanese squad. The soldiers' bodies had been mutilated almost beyond recognition. Some had their eyes gouged out, others had their noses or ears sliced off, and many were missing hands and feet. There were no survivors. In the early hours of December 9, just before dawn, advance units of the Japanese Army's 36th Regiment, consisting of infantry and light tanks, encountered fierce resistance from a battalion of the Chinese Training Division stationed at Hongmaoshan Hill, located southeast of the Nanjing city wall. A prolonged exchange of fire ensued, forcing the Chinese defenders to withdraw after sustaining heavy casualties. The Japanese, eager to capitalize on their advantage, followed closely. As the first light of dawn cut the horizon, they faced the imposing silhouette of the Nanjing city wall, which appeared more like a natural formation than a man-made structure. Despite their exhaustion, the soldiers erupted in victorious cries of "Banzai" and advanced energetically toward an enormous gate in the wall, this was the “Guanghua Men” or “the Gate of Enlightenment”. The Chinese defenders reigned fire, and artillery upon the Japanese columns. At that time, the gate remained shut; the moat surrounding the city was 500 feet wide and up to 15 feet deep, while the city wall towered 40 feet high. The approach to the gate was obstructed by an antitank ditch and five rows of Spanish riders, these are portable wooden frames wrapped in barbed wire. Along the road from the gate to the moat, additional rows of barbed wire further fortified the defenses. Two mountain guns, hastily transported through the rugged terrain during the 36th regiment's rapid advance to Nanjing, were positioned at the Antiaircraft Academy and commenced firing directly at the gate. While they succeeded in damaging the heavy wooden doors, it quickly became apparent that the gate had been reinforced from behind with solid beams and densely packed sandbags, so robust that, as one Japanese soldier noted, “even a row of ants wouldn't be able to make it through.” Shelling alone would not suffice to break through the defenses, prompting the call for engineers to venture into the open, exposed to enemy fire from the top of the wall, to attempt clearing the obstacles and detonating explosives at the base of the gate. While their comrades provided cover fire to keep the defenders suppressed, the engineers maneuvered past the Spanish riders to plant their explosives at the foot of the gates. An ear-splitting explosion shattered the morning air, but when the dust settled, the gate remained largely intact. To the Japanese attackers, the Chinese defenders appeared firmly entrenched; however, the reality was that they were nearing a breaking point. The artillery shelling, coupled with several Japanese air raids earlier in the day, had resulted in over 100 casualties surrounding the gate. Reinforcements were hastily summoned from nearby city sectors, including a platoon of military police cadets led by Lieutenant Xiang Hongyuan. Armed with six ZB vz 26 machine guns, the cadets commandeered a series of buses and made their way to the Gate of Enlightenment.  The hours before sunset dragged on with a tense stalemate around the Gate of Enlightenment, as neither side managed to achieve a decisive advantage. The Japanese engineers made two more perilous attempts to blow up the gate, only to find their explosives insufficient to breach the strong defenses. In a bold move, the Chinese defenders launched a risky assault outside the wall to incinerate a flour mill taller than the city wall, which, if captured, could provide the Japanese with an excellent observation point. The Chinese infantry, sprinting towards the building with jerry cans and wood, became easy targets for the Japanese fire. Despite suffering heavy losses, enough soldiers managed to reach the mill and set it ablaze. As the battle for the gate intensified on December 9, the elite 88th Division of the Chinese military became increasingly involved. The division's 262nd Brigade, comprising the 523rd and 524th Regiments, was tasked with defending the city wall between the Gate of Enlightenment and the Chinese Gate. One battalion from the 524th Regiment was dispatched to bolster the defenses at the Gate of Enlightenment. As the Japanese attacks escalated, this battalion incurred around 300 casualties. One notable instance saw 17 surviving members of a company withdraw from the battlefield, led by a platoon commander after both the company commander and his deputy had been killed. The 36th Japanese Regiment had two battalions positioned on either side of the gate, with a third held in reserve. However, that reserve battalion soon uncovered that their rear was just as perilous as the front. They were consistently attacked by Chinese stragglers from the countryside, who aimed to break through to the city gate. A Chinese unit also maintained control of a hill southwest of the Antiaircraft Academy, directing fire at Japanese soldiers within the campus. This ongoing threat from Chinese stragglers made it extremely challenging for the forward regimental positions to communicate with brigade headquarters at Qiweng Bridge farther behind. Several messengers lost their lives while trying. Ultimately, all communication shifted to wireless methods. On December 9 at noon, a solitary Japanese bomber appeared above Nanjing, but rather than its usual payload of bombs, it carried leaflets. Signed by General Matsui, the leaflets boldly declared the futility of resistance for the Chinese defenders. With Nanjing surrounded, the message conveyed that the Japanese had the power to bring the conflict directly to the Chinese. Instead, the leaflet urged surrender, stating, “The deadline for a response is tomorrow, that is the 10th”.. The Chinese were instructed to submit their response by noon to the Japanese lines near Sun Yat-sen Gate. The leaflet warned that if the Chinese did not comply, the Japanese would have no choice but to launch an assault. The tone was stern and intimidating: “The Japanese Army shall show no mercy toward those who offer resistance, treating them with extreme severity, but shall harm neither innocent civilians nor Chinese military personnel who manifest no hostility.” It emphasized the dire consequences that awaited anyone who did not lay down their arms. In response, Chinese General Tang Shengzhi reiterated his order for all troops under his command to fight to the last drop of blood. At around noon on December 10, a lone car approached Nanjing's city wall along the road from Jurong. Inside was Muto Akira, the vice chief of staff for the Central China Area Army, accompanied by another senior officer and an interpreter fluent in Chinese. Upon reaching the Japanese line near Sun Yat-sen Gate, they halted and waited. Their mission was to meet with representatives of the encircled Chinese garrison and receive their response to the previous day's request for surrender. As the minutes ticked by, there was no movement from the other side. After an hour of waiting, the three Japanese officials concluded their visit had been in vain. The vehicle turned around and retraced its path. Earlier that  morning, the Japanese had deployed a large balloon over the city wall, carrying a large white banner with a simple message in Chinese: “Give up this hopeless fight. Open the city gates and surrender!” However, this effort seemed to prove useless. As the morning progressed, Chinese shelling intensified, confirming that there was no intention among the defenders to surrender. The absence of a formal reply by the established deadline served as confirmation that the Japanese had no choice but to prepare for a massive frontal assault on the fortified city walls. Matsui wrote in his diary that day “Today at noon, we still hadn't received a reply from the Chinese to my offer of surrender. So I issued an order for the two armies to launch the attack on Nanjing beginning this afternoon. The resistance put up by the enemy is almost symbolic at this stage. It will certainly have no real effect.” The Japanese advance was set to occur along the entire front, targeting Chinese positions at Yuhuatai, the Gate of Enlightenment, Tongji Gate, and the heights of Purple Mountain. Still, one final option remained: the proposal for a three-day truce sent to both the Chinese and Japanese governments by Rabe and other foreign representatives from the day before might still be acceptable. However, this hope was dashed later that afternoon. Tang issued an order at 7:00 pm, calling for a fight to the bitter end. He warned that anyone leaving their post without permission would face severe punishment, and those failing to prevent others from withdrawing would also be penalized. Additionally, he dispatched Song Xilian and his 36th Division, his closest equivalent to a Praetorian Guard, to patrol the Yangtze docks and thwart any attempts to escape across the river. “We must defend the city with all our strength. We cannot give up an inch of our soil.” The battle for the Gate of Enlightenment remained fiercely contested. Soldiers of the 9th Japanese Infantry Division, surrounded by Chinese forces, found themselves questioning whether they were the ones laying siege or if it was the other way around. The division's 36th Regiment, entrenched directly in front of the gate, was effectively cut off from the rest of the division, lacking even a telephone line to the 18th Infantry Brigade's headquarters at Qiweng Bridge in the rear. The area was swarming with Chinese stragglers trying to return to their units. Japanese infantrymen who exposed themselves in the open risked being fired upon from all directions by unseen adversaries. Things changed at 8:00 am when the brigade's deputy commander climbed into an armored vehicle at Qiweng Bridge and led a supply column through terrain that was only partially under Japanese control. The column, carrying 500 artillery shells and machine gun ammunition, arrived without incident, replenishing the 36th Regiment, which was dangerously low on supplies. Soon after, signal troops established a telephone link to the regiment, enabling communication to flow freely. B 4:00 pm a breach had finally appeared in the outer gate. The Japanese artillery units could now see well-fortified sandbag positions inside the gate, which would also need to be destroyed, but for now, they had overcome their first obstacle. Cheers erupted among the batteries. Tang Shengzhi understood the significance of the Gate of Enlightenment in the battle for Nanjing. He had entrusted its defense to remnants of the elite German-trained 87th Infantry Division. He also deployed survivors from the 156th Division and dispatched armored cars to the section of the city wall and rolled artillery near the gate to provide close tactical support. Then suddenly cries of banzai rang out as a Rising Sun flag hoisted above the city gate. Major Ito Yoshimitsu, the commander of the 1st Battalion positioned near the Gate of Enlightenment had ordered his 1st Company to ascend the debris-laden slopes flanking the gate that had accumulated during hours of shelling. As the soldiers of the 1st Company infiltrated the gate, Ito quickly instructed the 4th Company to follow closely behind. By the time the Chinese forces recognized the critical breach in their defenses, it was too late. The two Japanese companies secured the gate and moved up to 100 yards inside the city, establishing positions in several buildings. They had created a foothold. A few miles southwest of the Gate of Enlightenment, the elite german trained 88th Chinese Infantry Division, was embroiled in fierce combat. They were defending the rugged hills in front of the Chinese Gate known as Yuhuatai, which were crucial to holding Nanjing. As General Sun Yuanliang, the division's commander, succinctly put it, “The enemy won't die by himself!” The division deployed its 527th Regiment to Yuhuatai alongside two artillery companies, while keeping the 528th Regiment in reserve. Although the 88th Division had once been part of the pre-war elite, it had suffered significant losses during months of grueling fighting, first in and around Shanghai and then during the retreat to Nanjing. The division now comprised only 6,000 to 7,000 soldiers, of which 3,000 were newcomers brought in to replenish their depleted ranks.  The division did possess one notable advantage over its opponents: the terrain. Yuhuatai was a nightmare for attackers. Military planners had long assumed invaders would assault from the south, leading to the fortification of the area. Consequently, the defenses included extensive antitank ditches, concrete-reinforced pillboxes, and rows of barbed wire, all designed to thwart an invasion. Moreover, Yuhuatai had frequently served as a training ground, allowing the 88th Division's soldiers to jump into prepared trenches during maneuvers. When the 6th Japanese Division arrived at Yuhuatai on December 10, it became immediately clear to its officers that the Chinese had transformed the area into a formidable stronghold. Strategically placed Chinese machine gun nests pinned down Japanese infantry, rendering them unable to advance or retreat. To counter this, the 6th Division set up its artillery to provide close tactical support, even at great risk. A battery commander was killed while maneuvering his guns to target a heavily fortified Chinese position. Despite the added firepower, the Japanese forces advanced slowly through the hilly landscape and sustained heavy casualties. They faced repeated obstacles from barbed wire barricades, which could only be dismantled by soldiers exposing themselves to pinpoint enemy fire. The Chinese defenders often fought to the last man; one Japanese officer noted that a pillbox had been locked from the outside, leaving the soldiers inside with no chance to escape. The experience of a company from the 6th Division's 23rd Regiment was typical. They found themselves pinned down in an antitank ditch, barely able to move. At the slightest motion, a vigilant Chinese machine gunner from a pillbox 50 yards away unleashed carefully aimed bursts of fire. Gradually, however, Japanese shelling began to weaken the Chinese positions, prompting the defenders to retreat one by one, even forcing the machine gunner to withdraw. When the Japanese troops finally emerged from cover, they spotted the fleeing gunner in the distance. Eager for revenge, they fired at him as he crossed a low ridge. He initially collapsed, only to rise again and continue fleeing. This cat-and-mouse chase occurred several times, and the Japanese soldiers couldn't tell whether they had hit him. Later that day, as they advanced further, they discovered him dead, still clutching his machine gun. The 6th Division faced the familiar issue of advancing too rapidly and bypassing Chinese units that still posed a threat. A 1,600-foot hill in the path of the 47th Regiment remained occupied by Chinese soldiers, who continued firing into the backs of the advancing Japanese troops. The Japanese forces managed to take the hill in the evening of December 10 and held it throughout the night despite repeated Chinese counterattacks. On the Chinese side, the 88th Division's 527th Regiment was engaged in particularly heavy fighting, but unlike their Japanese counterparts, they struggled with inadequate artillery support. Reluctant to risk valuable materiel, a concern that was rarely matched by a similar regard for personnel, Chinese commanders had positioned their artillery behind a low hill for protection against direct Japanese fire. However, this placement also meant they had no clear view of the enemy. Equipment lost in battle could not be replaced, but men lost were another matter. By the evening, the battle for the Gate of Enlightenment was reaching a critical point. Chinese commanders deployed every available unit to close the gap in their defenses created by the Japanese 36th Infantry Regiment, which had managed to establish a tenuous foothold near the gate. The pressure was immense, as there was no doubt that dire consequences awaited if the gate were lost. By midnight, a squad of southern Chinese soldiers from the 156th Division devised a ruthless plan to eliminate the remaining Japanese defenders, they intended to burn them out. Climbing the wall overlooking the Japanese positions with timber and cans of gasoline, they dropped burning logs onto the Japanese troops below at 1:00 am, trapping them under the heavy, flaming debris and inflicting devastating injuries. This cruel assault may have been driven by revenge, as many in the 156th Division had witnessed their comrades burned alive on the hilltop outside Nanjing just days earlier. By the morning the fight for the Gate of Enlightenment devolved into a stalemate. Nanjing was facing a siege. 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. General Tang Shengzhi led a defiant defense of Nanjing and  despite despair, civilians fortified the city, aware that its fall could shatter Chiang Kai-Shek's government. By early December, the Japanese were gradually surrounding the capital. Assaults were made against her walls and now it seemed the capital was about to face a brutal siege.