Podcasts about Pacific War

Last time we spoke about General Zhukov's armor offensives at Nomohan. Following heavy Japanese losses in May and June, General Georgy Zhukov arrives in June, reorganizes the Soviet 1st Army Group, and bolsters it with tanks, artillery, and reinforcements. The July offensive sees General Komatsubara's forces cross the Halha River undetected, achieving initial surprise. However, General Yasuoka's tank assault falters due to muddy terrain, inadequate infantry support, and superior Soviet firepower, resulting in heavy losses. Japanese doctrine emphasizing spiritual superiority clashes with material realities, undermining morale as intelligence underestimates Soviet strength. Zhukov learns key lessons in armored warfare, adapting tactics despite high casualties. Reinforcements pour in via massive truck convoys. Japanese night attacks and artillery duels fail, exposing logistical weaknesses. Internal command tensions, including gekokujo defiance, hinder responses. By August, Stalin, buoyed by European diplomacy and Sorge's intel, greenlights a major offensive. Zhukov employs deception for surprise. Warnings of Soviet buildup are ignored, setting the stage for a climactic encirclement on August 20.   #191 Zhukov Steel Ring of Fire at Nomohan 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. On the night of August 19–20, under cover of darkness, the bulk of the Soviet 1st Army Group crossed the Halha River into the expanded Soviet enclave on the east bank. Two weeks of nightly Soviet sound effects had paid off: Japanese perimeter troops failed to distinguish the real deployment from the frequently heard simulations. Zhukov's order of battle was as follows: "Northern force, commanded by Colonel Alekseenko—6th Mongolian Cavalry Division, 601st Infantry Regiment (82nd Division), 7th Armored Brigade, 2 battalions of the 11th Tank Brigade, 82nd Artillery Regiment, and 87th Anti-tank Brigade. Central force, where Zhukov was located, commanded by his deputy, Colonel Petrov—36th Motorized Infantry Division, 82nd Infantry Division (less one regiment), 5th Infantry Machine Gun Brigade. Southern force, commanded by Colonel Potapov—8th Mongolian Cavalry Division, 57th Infantry Division, 8th Armored Brigade, 6th Tank Brigade, 11th Tank Brigade (less two battalions), 185th Artillery Regiment, 37th Anti-tank Brigade, one independent tank company. A mobile strategic reserve built around the 212th Airborne Regiment, the 9th Mechanized Brigade, and a battalion of the 6th Tank Brigade was held west of the Halha River." The Soviet offensive was supported by massed artillery, a hallmark of Zhukov's operations in the war against Germany. In addition to nearly 300 antitank and rapid-fire guns, Zhukov deployed over 200 field and heavy artillery pieces on both sides of the Halha. Specific artillery batteries were assigned to provide supporting fire for each attacking infantry and armored unit at the battalion level and higher. In the early hours of August 20, the sky began to lighten over the semiarid plain, with the false promise of a quiet Sunday morning. The air was clear as the sun warmed the ground that had been chilled overnight. General Komatsubara's troops were in no special state of readiness when the first wave of more than 200 Soviet bombers crossed the Halha River at 5:45 a.m. and began pounding their positions. When the bombers withdrew, a thunderous artillery barrage began, continuing for 2 hours and 45 minutes. That was precisely the time needed for the bombers to refuel, rearm, and return for a second run over the Japanese positions. Finally, all the Soviet artillery unleashed an intensive 15-minute barrage at the forwardmost Japanese positions. Komatsubara's men huddled in their trenches under the heaviest bombardment to which they or any other Japanese force had ever been subjected. The devastation, both physical and psychological, was tremendous, especially in the forward positions. The shock and vibration of incoming bombs and artillery rounds also caused their radiotelegraph keys to chatter so uncontrollably that frontline troops could not communicate with the rear, compounding their confusion and helplessness. At 9:00 a.m., Soviet armor and infantry began to move out along the line while their cover fire continued. A dense morning fog near the river helped conceal their approach, bringing them in some sectors to within small-arms range before they were sighted by the enemy. The surprise and disarray on the Japanese side was so complete, and their communications so badly disrupted, that Japanese artillery did not begin firing in support of their frontline troops until about 10:15 a.m. By then, many forward positions were overrun. Japanese resistance stiffened at many points by midday, and fierce combat raged along the front, roughly 40 miles long. In the day's fighting, Colonel M. I. Potapov's southern force achieved the most striking success. The 8th MPR Cavalry Division routed the Manchukuoan cavalry holding Komatsubara's southern flank, and Potapov's armor and mechanized infantry bent the entire southern segment of the Japanese front inward by about 8 miles in a northwesterly direction. Zhukov's central force advanced only 500–1,500 yards in the face of furious resistance, but the frontal assault engaged the center of the Japanese line so heavily that Komatsubara could not reinforce his flanks. Two MPR cavalry regiments and supporting armor and mechanized infantry from Colonel Ilya Alekseenko's northern force easily overran two Manchukuoan cavalry units guarding the northern flank of the Japanese line, about 2 miles north of the Fui Heights. But the heights themselves formed a natural strong point, and Alekseenko's advance was halted at what became the northern anchor of the Japanese line. As the first phase of the Soviet offensive gathered momentum, General Ogisu, the 6th Army's new commander, assessed the situation. Still unaware of Zhukov's strength, he reassured KwAHQ that "the enemy intends to envelop us from our flanks, but his offensive effectiveness is weak… Our positions in other areas are being strengthened. Set your mind at ease." This optimistic report contributed to Kwantung Army's delay in reinforcing the 23rd Division. Some at KwAHQ suspected this might be another limited Soviet push, like Aug 7–8, that would soon end. Others worried it was a diversion prior to a larger offensive and were concerned but not alarmed about Komatsubara's position. On Aug 21–22, Potapov's southern force pierced the Japanese main defense line at several points, breaking the southern sector into segments that the attackers sealed off, encircled, and ground down. Soviet armor, mechanized infantry, and artillery moved swiftly and with deadly efficiency. Survivors described how each pocket of resistance experienced its own hellish period. After the Japanese heavy weapons in a pocket were neutralized, Soviet artillery and tanks gradually tightened the ring, firing at point-blank range over open sights. Flame-throwing tanks incinerated hastily constructed fortifications and underground shelters. Infantry mopped up with grenades, small arms, and bayonets. By the end of Aug 23, Potapov had dismembered the entire Japanese defensive position south of the Holsten River. Only one significant pocket of resistance remained. Meanwhile, Potapov's 8th Armored Brigade looped behind the Japanese, reaching southeast of Nomonhan, some 11 miles east of the river junction, on the boundary claimed by the MPR, and took up a blocking position there athwart the most likely line of retreat for Japanese units south of the Holsten. In those two days, the Japanese center yielded only a few yards, while the northern flank anchored at Fui Heights held firm. Air combat raged over the battlefield. Soviet air units provided tactical support for their armor and infantry, while Kwantung Army's 2nd Air Group strove to thwart that effort and hit the Soviet ground forces. Before Nomonhan, the Japanese air force had not faced a modern opponent. Japanese fliers had roamed largely unchallenged in Manchuria and China from 1931 to 1939. At Nomonhan, the Soviets enjoyed an advantage of roughly 2:1 in aircraft and pilots. This placed an increasingly heavy burden on Japanese air squadrons, which had to fly incessantly, often against heavy odds. Fatigue took its toll and losses mounted. Soviet and Japanese accounts give wildly different tallies of air victories and losses, but an official Japanese assessment after the battle stated, "Nomonhan brought out the bitter truths of the phenomenal rate at which war potential is sapped in the face of superior opposition." As with tank combat, the Soviet air superiority was qualitative as well as quantitative. In June–early July, the Soviet I-16 fighters did not fare well against the Japanese Type 97 fighter. However, in the lull before the August offensive, the Soviets introduced an improved I-16 with armor-plated fuselage and windshield, making it virtually impervious to the Type 97's light 7.7-mm guns. The Japanese countered by arming some planes with heavier 12.7-mm guns, which were somewhat more effective against the new I-16s. But the Soviet pilots discovered that the Type-97's unprotected fuel tank was an easy mark, and Japanese planes began to burn with horrendous regularity. On Aug 23, as Ribbentrop arrived in Moscow to seal the pact that would doom Poland and unleash war in Europe, the situation at Nomonhan was deemed serious enough by Kwantung Army to transfer the 7th Division to Hailar for support. Tsuji volunteered to fly to Nomonhan for a firsthand assessment. This move came too late, as Aug 23–24 proved the crucial phase of the battle. On Tue night, Aug 22, at Japanese 6th Army HQ, General Ogisu ordered a counterattack to push back the Soviet forces enveloping and crushing the Japanese southern flank. Komatsubara planned the counterattack in minute detail and entrusted its execution to his 71st and 72nd Regiments, led by General Kobayashi Koichi, and the 26th and 28th Regiments of the 7th Division, commanded by General Morita Norimasa. On paper this force looked like two infantry brigades. Only the 28th Regiment, however, was near full strength, though its troops were tired after marching about 25 miles to the front the day before. This regiment's peerless commander was Colonel Morita Toru (unrelated to General Morita). The chief kendo fencing master of the Imperial Army, Morita claimed to be invulnerable to bullets. The other three regiments were seriously understrength, partly due to combat attrition and partly because several of their battalions were deployed elsewhere on the front. The forces Kobayashi and Morita commanded that day totaled less than one regiment each. It was not until the night of Aug 23 that deployment and attack orders filtered down to the Japanese regiment, battalion, and company commanders. Due to insufficient truck transport and the trackless terrain, units were delayed reaching their assigned positions in the early morning of Aug 24, and some did not arrive at all. Two battalions of the 71st Regiment did not reach Kobayashi in time; his attack force that morning consisted of two battalions of the 72nd Regiment. Colonel Sumi's depleted 26th Regiment did not arrive in time, and General Morita's assault force consisted of two battalions of the 28th Regiment and a battalion-equivalent independent garrison unit newly arrived at the front. Because of these delays, the Japanese could not reconnoiter enemy positions adequately before the attack. What had been planned as a dawn assault would begin between 9:30 and 10:00 a.m. in broad daylight. The light plane carrying Tsuji on the final leg of his flight from Hsinking-Hailar-Nomonhan was attacked by Soviet fighters and forced to land behind the 72nd Regiment's staging area. Tsuji managed to reach General Kobayashi's command post by truck and on foot, placing him closer to the fighting than he anticipated. Just before the counterattack began, a dense fog drifted across part of the battlefield, obscuring visibility and limiting artillery effectiveness. Using the fog to mask their movement, lead elements of the 72nd Regiment moved toward a distant stand of scrub pines. As they approached, the trees began to move away—the stand was a well-camouflaged Soviet tank force. The tanks then maneuvered to the south, jeopardizing further Japanese advance. As the fog cleared, the Japanese found themselves facing a much larger enemy force. A vastly heavier Soviet barrage answered their renewed artillery fire. Kobayashi and Morita discovered too late that their counterattack had walked into the teeth of far stronger Soviet forces. One account calls it "The Charge of Two Light Brigades."   Kobayashi's 72nd Regiment encountered the Soviet T-34, with its thick sloped armor and 76-mm gun—the most powerful tank in 1939. In addition, the improved Soviet BT-5/7 tanks, powered by diesel, were less prone to ignition. On gasoline-powered vehicles, the Soviets added wire netting over the ventilation grill and exhaust manifold, reducing the effectiveness of hand-thrown gasoline bombs. Japanese infantry regiments suffered near 50% casualties that day. Nearly every battalion and company commander was lost. Kobayashi was gravely wounded by a tank shell fragment and nearly trampled by fleeing troops. He survived the battle and the Pacific War but died in a Soviet POW camp in 1950. Morita's 28th Regiment fared little better. It was pinned down about 500 yards from the Soviet front lines by intense artillery. Unable to advance and not permitted to retreat, Morita's men dug into the loose sand and withstood the bombardment, but were cut to pieces. Shortly after sunset, the remnants were ordered to withdraw, but both regiments were shattered. Tsuji, a survivor, rejoined Komatsubara at his command post. Upon receiving combat reports from the 72nd and 28th Regiments, General Komatsubara "evinced deep anxiety." 6th Army chief of staff Major General Fujimoto Tetsukuma, at Komatsubara's command post, "appeared bewildered," and announced he was returning to headquarters, asking if Tsuji would accompany him. The major declined and later recalled that he and Komatsubara could barely conceal their astonishment at Fujimoto's abrupt departure at such a time. Meanwhile, at the northern end of the line, Colonel Alekseenko's force had been hammering at Fui Heights for 3 days without success. The position was held by about 800 defenders under Lieutenant Colonel Ioki Eiichiro, consisting of two infantry companies; one company each of cavalry, armored reconnaissance, and combat engineers; and three artillery batteries (37-mm and 75-mm guns). The defenders clung tenaciously to the strongpoint created by the heights and their bunkers, inflicting heavy losses on Alekseenko's force. The unexpectedly strong defense disrupted the timing of the entire Soviet offensive. By Aug 23, Zhukov was exasperated and losing patience with the pace in the north. Some of Zhukov's comrades recall a personable chief who played the accordion and urged singing during happier times. Under stress, his harshness and temper surfaced. Zhukov summoned Alekseenko to the telephone. When the northern commander expressed doubt about storming the heights immediately, Zhukov berated him, relieved him on the spot, and entrusted the attack to Alekseenko's chief of staff. After a few hours, Zhukov called again and, finding that the new commander was slow, fired him as well and sent a staff member to take charge. Accounts record that his tirades sometimes included the phrase "useless bag of shit," though others note harsher language was used toward generals who did not meet expectations. That night, reinforced by the 212th Airborne Regiment, heavier artillery, and a detachment of flame-throwing tanks, the northern force renewed its assault on Fui Heights. The battered Japanese defenders were thoroughly overmatched. Soviet artillery fired at two rounds per second. When the last Japanese artillery was knocked out, they no longer could defend against flame-throwing tanks. From several miles away, Colonel Sumi could see the heights shrouded in black smoke and red flames "spitting like the tongues of snakes."  After Aug 22, supply trucks could no longer reach Fui Heights. The next afternoon, Colonel Ioki's radio—the last link to the 23rd Division—was destroyed. His surviving men fought on with small arms and grenades, repelling Soviet infantry with bayonet charges that night. By the morning of Aug 24, Ioki had about 200 able-bodied men left of his original 800. Soviet tanks and infantry had penetrated defenses at several points, forcing him to constrict his perimeter. Red flags flew on the eastern edge of the heights. Ioki gathered his remaining officers to discuss last measures. With little ammunition and almost no food or water, their situation seemed hopeless. But Ioki insisted on holding Fui Heights to the last man, arguing that the defense should not be abandoned and that orders to break out should come only with reinforcements and supplies. Some subordinates urged retreat. Faced with two dire options, Ioki drew his pistol and attempted suicide, but a fellow officer restrained him. Rather than see his men blown to bits, Ioki decided to abandon Fui Heights and retreat east. Those unable to walk received hand grenades with the injunction to blow themselves up rather than be captured. On the night of Aug 24–25, after moonrise, the remaining resistance at the heights was quelled, and Soviet attention shifted south. Ioki's battered remnant slipped out and, the next morning, encountered a Manchukuoan cavalry patrol that summoned trucks to take them to Chaingchunmiao, forty miles away. Russians occupying Fui Heights on Aug 25 counted the corpses of over 600 Japanese officers and men. After securing Fui Heights, the Soviet northern force began to roll up the Japanese northern flank in a wide arc toward Nomonhan. A day after the fall of Fui Heights, elements of the northern force's 11th Tank Brigade linked up with the southern force's 8th Armored Brigade near Nomonhan. A steel ring had been forged around the Japanese 6th Army. As the Japanese northern and southern flanks dissolved under Zhukov's relentless assaults, Komatsubara's command ceased to exist as an integrated force. By Aug 25 the Japanese lines were completely cut, with resistance remaining only in three encircled pockets. The remnants of two battalions of General Morita's "brigade" attempted a renewed offensive on Aug 25, advancing about 150 yards before being hammered by Soviet artillery and tanks, suffering heavier casualties than the day before. The only hope for the surrounded Japanese troops lay in a relief force breaking through the Soviet encirclement from the outside. However, Kwantung Army was spread thin in Manchuria and, due to a truck shortage, could not transport the 7th Division from Hailar to the combat zone in time. By Aug 26 the encirclement had thickened, with three main pockets tightly invested, making a large-scale breakout nearly impossible. Potapov unleashed a two-pronged assault with his 6th Tank Brigade and 80th Infantry Regiment. Japanese artillery from the 28th Regiment temporarily checked the left wing of the armored attack, but the Soviet right wing overran elements of Sumi's 26th Regiment, forcing the Japanese to retreat into a tighter enclave. Morita, the fencing-master commander who claimed to be immune to bullets, was killed by machine-gun fire while standing atop a trench encouraging his men. The Japanese 120-mm howitzers overheated under the August sun; their breech mechanisms swelled and refused to eject spent casings. Gunners had to leap from behind shelter to ram wooden rods down the barrels, drastically reducing rate of fire and life expectancy. Komatsubara's artillery units suffered a bitter fate. Most were deployed well behind the front lines with their guns facing west toward the Halha. As the offensive developed, attackers often struck the batteries from the east, behind them. Even when crews could turn some guns to face east, they had not preregistered fields of fire there and were not very effective. Supporting infantry had already been drawn off for counterattacks and perimeter defense. One by one, Japanese batteries were smashed by Soviet artillery and tanks. Crews were expected to defend their guns to the last man; the guns themselves were treated as the unit's soul, to be destroyed if captured. In extremis, crews were to destroy sensitive parts like optics. Few survived. Among those who did was a PFC from an annihilated howitzer unit, ordered to drive one of the few surviving vehicles, a Dodge sedan loaded with seriously wounded men, eastward to safety during the night. Near a Holsten River bridge he encountered Soviet sentries. The driver hesitated, then honked his horn, and the guards saluted as the sedan sped past. With water supplies exhausted and unable to reach the Halha or Holsten Rivers, the commander of the easternmost enclave ordered his men to drain radiator water from their vehicles. Drinking the foul liquid, at the cost of immobilizing their remaining transport, signaled that the defenders believed their situation was hopeless. On Aug 27 the rest of the Japanese 7th Division, two fresh infantry regiments, an artillery regiment, and support units totaling barely 5,000 men—reached the northeastern segment of the ring around Komatsubara. One day of hard fighting revealed they lacked the strength to break the encirclement. General Ogisu ordered the 7th Division to pull back and redeploy near his own 6th Army headquarters, about 4 miles east of Nomonhan and the border claimed by the enemy. There would be no outside relief for Komatsubara's forces. Throughout Aug 27–28, Soviet aircraft, artillery, armor, and infantry pounded the three Japanese pockets, compressing them into ever-smaller pockets and grinding them down. The surrounded Japanese fought fiercely and inflicted heavy casualties, but the outcome was inevitable. After the remaining Japanese artillery batteries were silenced, Soviet tanks ruled the battlefield. One by one, major pockets were overrun. Some smaller groups managed to slip through Soviet lines and reach safety east of the border claimed by the MPR, where they were left unmolested by the Red Army. Elements of Potapov's 57th and 82nd Divisions eliminated the last remnants of resistance south of the Holsten by the evening of Aug 27. North of the Holsten, during the night of Aug 28–29, a group of about 400 Japanese tried to slip east through the Soviet lines along the riverbank. They were spotted by the 293rd Regiment (57th Division), which struck them. The fleeing Japanese refused to surrender and were wiped out attempting to recross the Holsten.   Japanese soldiers' refusal to surrender is well documented. Surrender was considered dishonorable; the Army Field Manual was silent on surrender. For officers, death was not merely preferable to surrender; it was expected, and in some cases required. The penal code (1908, not revised until 1942) stated that surrender was dereliction of duty; if a commander did his best to resist, imprisonment could follow; if not, death. Stemming from Bushido, regimental colors were treated as sacred. On the afternoon of Aug 28, with much of his 64th Regiment destroyed, Colonel Yamagata saw no alternative but to burn the regimental colors and then commit suicide. Part of the flagpole had been shattered; the chrysanthemum crest damaged. Yamagata, Colonel Ise (artillery regimental commander), an infantry captain, a medical lieutenant, and a foot soldier—the last survivors of the headquarters unit—faced east, shouted "banzai" for the emperor, drenched the pennant in gasoline, and lit it. Yamagata, Ise, and the captain then shot themselves. The flag and crest were not entirely consumed, and the unburned remnants were buried beneath Yamagata's unmarked body. The medical officer and the soldier escaped and reported these rites to 6th Army HQ, where the deaths of the two colonels were mourned, but there was concern over whether the regimental colors had been entirely destroyed. On Aug 29, Lieutenant Colonel Higashi Muneharu, who had taken command of the 71st Regiment, faced the same dilemma. The regimental standard was broken into four pieces and, with the flag and chrysanthemum crest, drenched with fuel and set on fire. The fire kept going out, and the tassels were especially hard to burn. It took 45 minutes to finish the job, all under enemy fire. Afterward, Higashi urged all able to join him in a suicide charge, and the severely wounded to "kill themselves bravely when the enemy approached." Soviet machine-gun fire and grenades felled Higashi and his followers within moments. When it became clear on Aug 29 that all hope was lost, Komatsubara resolved to share the fate of his 23rd Division. He prepared to commit suicide, entrusted his will to his aide, removed his epaulets, and burned his code books. General Ogisu ordered Komatsubara to save himself and lead as many of his men as possible out of the encirclement. Shortly before midnight on Aug 30, the bulk of the Soviet armor briefly pulled back to refuel and resupply. Some of the Soviet infantry also pulled back. Komatsubara and about 400 survivors of his command used the opportunity to slip through the Soviet lines, guiding wounded by starlight to safety at Chiangchunmiao on the morning of Aug 31. Tsuji was among the survivors. In transit, Komatsubara was so distraught he needed to be restrained from taking his own life. A fellow officer took his pistol, and two sturdy corporals helped to support him, preventing him from drawing his sword. On August 31, Zhukov declared the disputed territory between the Halha River and the boundary line through Nomonhan cleared of enemy troops. The Sixth Army had been annihilated, with between 18,000 and 23,000 men killed or wounded from May to September (not counting Manchukuoan losses). The casualty rate in Komatsubara's 23rd Division reached 76%, and Sumi's 26th Regiment (7th Division) suffered 91% casualties. Kwantung Army lost many of its tanks and heavy guns and nearly 150 aircraft. It was the worst military defeat in modern Japanese history up to that time. Soviet claims later put total Japanese casualties at over 50,000, though this figure is widely regarded as inflated. For years, Soviet-MPR authorities claimed 9,284 casualties, surely an underestimate. A detailed unit-by-unit accounting published in Moscow in 2002 put Soviet losses at 25,655 (9,703 killed, 15,952 wounded), plus 556 MPR casualties. While Soviet casualties may have exceeded Japanese losses, this reflects the fierceness of Japanese defense and questions Zhukov's expenditutre of blood. There was no denying, however, that the Red Army demonstrated substantial strength and that Kwantung Army suffered a serious defeat. Knowledgeable Japanese and Soviet sources agree that given the annihilation of Komatsubara's forces and the dominance of Soviet air power, if Zhukov had pressed beyond Nomonhan toward Hailar, local Japanese forces would have fallen into chaos, Hailar would have fallen, and western Manchuria would have been gravely threatened. But while that might have been militarily possible, Moscow did not intend it. Zhukov's First Army Group halted at the boundary line claimed by the MPR. A Japanese military historian notes that "Kwantung Army completely lost its head." KwAHQ was enraged by the battlefield developments. Beyond the mauling of the Sixth Army at Nomonhan, there was anxiety over regimental colors. It was feared that Colonel Yamagata might not have had time to destroy the imperial crest of the 64th Regiment's colors, which could have fallen into Soviet hands. Thousands of dead and wounded littered the field. To preserve "face" and regain leverage, a swift, decisive counterstroke was deemed necessary. At Hsinking, they decided on an all-out war against the USSR. They planned to throw the 7th, 2nd, 4th, and 8th Divisions into the Sixth Army, along with all heavy artillery in Manchukuo, to crush the enemy. Acknowledging shortages in armor, artillery, and air power, they drafted a plan for a series of successive night offenses beginning on September 10. This was viewed as ill-advised for several reasons: September 10 was an unrealistic target given Kwantung Army's limited logistical capacity; it was unclear what the Red Army would be doing by day, given its superiority in tanks, artillery, and air power; autumn would bring extreme cold that could immobilize forces; and Germany's alliance with the Soviet Union isolated Japan diplomatically. These factors were known at KwAHQ, yet the plan proceeded. Kwantung Army notified AGS to "utilize the winter months well," aiming to mobilize the entire Japanese Army for a decisive spring confrontation. However, the Nomonhan defeat coincided with the Hitler-Stalin pact's diplomatic fallout. The push for close military cooperation with Germany against the Soviet Union was discredited in a single week. Defeated and abandoned by Hitler, pro-German, anti-Soviet policy advocates in Tokyo were furious. Premier Hiranuma Kiichiro's government resigned on August 28. In response, more cautious voices in Tokyo asserted control. General Nakajima, deputy chief of AGS, went to Hsinking with Imperial Order 343, directing Kwantung Army to hold near the disputed frontier with "minimal strength" to enable a quick end to hostilities and a diplomatic settlement. But at KwAHQ, the staff pressed their case, and Nakajima eventually approved a general offensive to begin on September 10. The mood at KwAHQ was ebullient. Upon returning to Tokyo, Nakajima was sternly rebuked and ordered to stand down. General Ueda appealed to higher authority, requesting permission to clear the battlefield and recover the bodies of fallen soldiers. He was denied and later relieved of command on September 6. A reshuffle followed at KwAHQ, with several senior officers reassigned. The Japanese Foreign Ministry directed Ambassador Togo Shigenori to negotiate a settlement in Moscow. The Molotov-Togo agreement was reached on September 15–16, establishing a temporary frontier and a commission to redemarcate the boundary. The local cease-fire arrangements were formalized on September 18–19, and both sides agreed to exchange prisoners and corpses. In the aftermath, Kwantung Army leadership and the Red Army leadership maintained tight control over communications about the conflict. News of the defeat spread through Manchuria and Japan, but the scale of the battle was not fully suppressed. The Kwantung Army's reputation suffered further from subsequent punishments of officers deemed to have mishandled the Nomonhan engagement. Several officers were compelled to retire or commit suicide under pressure, and Ioki's fate became a particular symbol of the army's dishonor and the heavy costs of the campaign. 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 August 1939, Soviet General Georgy Zhukov launched a decisive offensive against Japanese forces at Nomonhan. Under cover of darkness, Soviet troops crossed the Halha River, unleashing massive air and artillery barrages on August 20. Fierce fighting ensued, with failed Japanese counterattacks, the fall of Fui Heights, and annihilation of encircled pockets by Soviet tanks and infantry. 

Dale and Christophe discuss the February 1942 Battle of Badung ("Bong/Barong") Strait in the Netherlands East Indies, framing it within Japan's rapid early-Pacific-War offensives after Pearl Harbor and the sinking of HMS Prince of Wales and HMS Repulse, and Japan's drive to seize oil and strategic airfields. They explain ABDA Command under Dutch Rear Admiral Karel Doorman as a multinational, unevenly coordinated force facing Japanese air superiority, refined night-fighting doctrine, and Type 93 “Long Lance” torpedoes. Japan lands troops from the 48th Infantry Division on Bali on February 19 and moves to secure Denpasar airfield, prompting Allied surface counterattacks in confined waters. U.S. Clemson-class destroyers fire torpedoes without confirmed hits and withdraw; Dutch cruisers De Ruyter and Java with destroyers fight Japanese escorts, suffer damage, evade torpedoes, and also withdraw, leaving Bali secured and foreshadowing the Battle of the Java Sea. The episode closes honoring Medal of Honor recipient PFC Charles N. DeGlopper (killed June 9, 1944, near La Fière, France).

"Before we're through with them, the Japanese language will be spoken only in hell." –  Admiral William F. “Bull” Halsey upon seeing the aftermath of the attack on Pearl Harbor. In 1958, US Admiral Chester W. Nimitz wrote a controversial article titled “Our Good Luck at Pearl Harbor.”  It was a surprising revelation that prompted Nimitz to explain and defend himself for the rest of his life.  To his credit, he remained firm in his conviction and was always willing to explain his reasons.  In this episode, we ask whether or not Nimitz's controversial statement made over 60 years ago is sustainable, given just how destructive the Japanese surprise attack was on December 7, 1941. 

Last time we spoke about General Zhukov's arrival to the Nomohan incident. The Kwantung Army's inexperienced 23rd Division, under General Komatsubara, suffered heavy losses in failed offensives, including Colonel Yamagata's assault and the annihilation of Lieutenant Colonel Azuma's detachment, resulting in around 500 Japanese casualties. Tensions within the Japanese command intensified as Kwantung defied Tokyo's restraint, issuing aggressive orders like 1488 and launching a June 27 air raid on Soviet bases, destroying dozens of aircraft and securing temporary air superiority. This provoked Moscow's fury and rebukes from Emperor Hirohito. On June 1, Georgy Zhukov, a rising Red Army tactician and tank expert, was summoned from Minsk. Arriving June 5, he assessed the 57th Corps as inadequate, relieved Commander Feklenko, and took charge of the redesignated 1st Army Group. Reinforcements included mechanized brigades, tanks, and aircraft. Japanese intelligence misread Soviet supply convoys as retreats, underestimating Zhukov's 12,500 troops against their 15,000. By July, both sides poised for a massive clash, fueled by miscalculations and gekokujo defiance.   #190 Zhukov Unleashes Tanks at Nomohan 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. At 4:00 a.m. on July 1, 15,000 heavily laden Japanese troops began marching to their final assembly and jump-off points. The sun rose at 4:00 a.m. and set at 9:00 p.m. that day, but the Japanese advance went undetected by Soviet/MPR commanders, partly because the June 27 air raid had temporarily cleared Soviet reconnaissance from the skies. On the night of July 1, Komatsubara launched the first phase. The 23rd Division, with the Yasuoka Detachment, converged on Fui Heights, east of the Halha River, about eleven miles north of its confluence with the Holsten. The term "heights" is misleading here; a Japanese infantry colonel described Fui as a "raised pancake" roughly one to one-and-a-half miles across, about thirty to forty feet higher than the surrounding terrain. For reasons not fully explained, the small Soviet force stationed on the heights was withdrawn during the day on July 1, and that night Fui Heights was occupied by Komatsubara's forces almost unopposed. This caused little stir at Zhukov's headquarters. Komatsubara bided his time on July 2.   On the night of July 2–3, the Japanese achieved a brilliant tactical success. A battalion of the 71st Infantry Regiment silently crossed the Halha River on a moonless night and landed unopposed on the west bank opposite Fui Heights. Recent rains had swollen the river to 100–150 yards wide and six feet deep, making crossing difficult for men, horses, or vehicles. Combat engineers swiftly laid a pontoon bridge, completing it by 6:30 a.m. on July 3. The main body of Komatsubara's 71st and 72nd Infantry Regiments (23rd Division) and the 26th Regiment (7th Division) began a slow, arduous crossing. The pontoon bridge, less than eight feet wide, was a bottleneck, allowing only one truck at a time. The attackers could not cross with armored vehicles, but they did bring across their regimental artillery, 18 x 37-mm antitank guns, 12 x 75-mm mountain guns, 8 x 75-mm field guns, and 4 x 120-mm howitzers, disassembled, packed on pack animals, and reassembled on the west bank. The crossing took the entire day, and the Japanese were fortunate to go without interception. The Halha crossing was commanded personally by General Komatsubara and was supported by a small Kwantung Army contingent, including General Yano (deputy chief of staff), Colonel Hattori, and Major Tsuji from the Operations Section. Despite the big air raid having alerted Zhukov, the initial Japanese moves from July 1–3 achieved complete tactical surprise, aided by Tsuji's bold plan. The first indication of the major offensive came when General Yasuoka's tanks attacked predawn on July 3. Yasuoka suspected Soviet troops south of him attempting to retreat across the Halha to the west bank, and he ordered his tanks to attack immediately, with infantry not yet in position. The night's low clouds, no moon, and low visibility—along with a passing thunderstorm lighting the sky—made the scene dramatic. Seventy Japanese tanks roared forward, supported by infantry and artillery, and the Soviet 149th Infantry Regiment found itself overwhelmed. Zhukov, hearing of Yasuoka's assault but unaware that Komatsubara had crossed the Halha, ordered his armor to move northeast to Bain Tsagan to confront the initiative. There, Soviet armor clashed with Japanese forces in a chaotic, largely uncoordinated engagement. The Soviet counterattacks, supported by heavy artillery, halted much of the Japanese momentum, and by late afternoon Japanese infantry had to dig in west of the Halha. The crossing had been accomplished without Soviet reconnaissance detecting it in time, but Zhukov's counterattacks, the limits of Japanese armored mobility across the pontoon, and the heat and exhaustion of the troops constrained the Japanese effort. By the afternoon of July 3, Zhukov's forces were pressing hard, and the Japanese momentum began to stall. Yasuoka's tanks, supported by a lack of infantry and the fatigue and losses suffered by the infantry, could not close the gap to link with Komatsubara's forces. The Type 89 tanks, designed for infantry support, were ill-suited to penetrating Soviet armor, especially when faced with BT-5/BT-7 tanks and strong anti-tank guns. The Type 95 light tanks were faster but lightly armored, and suffered heavily from Soviet fire and air attacks. Infantry on the western bank struggled to catch up with tanks, shot through by Soviet artillery and armor, while the 64th Regiment could not keep pace with the tanks due to the infantry's lack of motorized transport. By late afternoon, Yasuoka's advance stalled far short of the river junction and the Soviet bridge. The infantry dug in to withstand Soviet bombardment, and the Japanese tank regiments withdrew to their jump-off points by nightfall. The Japanese suffered heavy losses in tanks, though some were recovered and repaired; by July 9, KwAHQ decided to withdraw its two tank regiments from the theater. Armor would play no further role in the Nomonhan conflict. The Soviets, by contrast, sustained heavier tank losses but began to replenish with new models. The July offensive, for Kwantung Army, proved a failure. Part of the failure stemmed from a difficult blend of terrain and logistics. Unusually heavy rains in late June had transformed the dirt roads between Hailar and Nomonhan into a mud-filled quagmire. Japanese truck transport, already limited, was so hampered by these conditions that combat effectiveness suffered significantly. Colonel Yamagata's 64th Infantry Regiment, proceeding on foot, could not keep pace with or support General Yasuoka's tanks on July 3–4. Komatsubara's infantry on the west bank of the Halha ran short of ammunition, food, and water. As in the May 28 battle, the main cause of the Kwantung Army's July offensive failure was wholly inadequate military intelligence. Once again, the enemy's strength had been seriously underestimated. Moreover, a troubling realization was dawning at KwAHQ and in the field: the intelligence error was not merely quantitative but qualitative. The Soviets were not only more numerous but also far more potent than anticipated. The attacking Japanese forces initially held a slight numerical edge and enjoyed tactical surprise, but the Red Army fought tenaciously, and the weight of Soviet firepower proved decisive. Japan, hampered by a relative lack of raw materials and industrial capacity, could not match the great powers in the quantitative production of military materiel. Consequently, Japanese military leaders traditionally emphasized the spiritual superiority of Japan's armed forces in doctrine and training, often underestimating the importance of material factors, including firepower. This was especially true of the army that had carried the tactic of the massed bayonet charge into World War II. This "spiritual" combat doctrine arose from necessity; admitting material superiority would have implied defeat. Japan's earlier victories in the Sino-Japanese War, Russo-Japanese War, the Manchurian incident, and the China War, along with legendary medieval victories over the Mongol hordes, seemed to confirm the transcendent importance of fighting spirit. Only within such a doctrine could the Imperial Japanese Army muster inner strength and confidence to face formidable enemies. This was especially evident against Soviet Russia, whose vast geography, population, and resources loomed large. Yet what of its spirit? The Japanese military dismissed Bolshevism as a base, materialist philosophy utterly lacking spiritual power. Consequently, the Red Army was presumed to have low morale and weak fighting effectiveness. Stalin's purges only reinforced this belief. Kwantung Army's recent experiences at Nomonhan undermined this outlook. Among ordinary soldiers and officers alike, from the 23rd Division Staff to KwAHQ—grim questions formed: Had Soviet materiel and firepower proven superior to Japanese fighting spirit? If not, did the enemy possess a fighting spirit comparable to their own? To some in Kwantung Army, these questions were grotesque and almost unthinkable. To others, the implications were too painful to face. Perhaps May and July's combat results were an aberration caused by the 23rd Division's inexperience. Nevertheless, a belief took hold at KwAHQ that this situation required radical rectification. Zhukov's 1st Army Headquarters, evaluating recent events, was not immune to self-criticism and concern for the future. The enemy's success in transporting nearly 10,000 men across the Halha without detection—despite heightened Soviet alert after the June 27 air raid—revealed a level of carelessness and lack of foresight at Zhukov's level. Zhukov, however, did not fully capitalize on Komatsubara's precarious position on July 4–5. Conversely, Zhukov and his troops reacted calmly in the crisis's early hours. Although surprised and outnumbered, Zhukov immediately recognized that "our trump cards were the armored detachments, and we decided to use them immediately." He acted decisively, and the rapid deployment of armor proved pivotal. Some criticized the uncoordinated and clumsy Soviet assault on Komatsubara's infantry on July 3, but the Japanese were only a few hours' march from the river junction and the Soviet bridge. By hurling tanks at Komatsubara's advance with insufficient infantry support, Mikhail Yakovlev (11th Tank Brigade) and A. L. Lesovoi (7th Mechanized Brigade) incurred heavy losses. Nonetheless, they halted the Japanese southward advance, forcing Komatsubara onto the defensive, from which he never regained momentum. Zhukov did not flinch from heavy casualties to achieve his objectives. He later told General Dwight D. Eisenhower that if the enemy faced a minefield, their infantry attacked as if it did not exist, treating personnel mine losses as equal to those that would have occurred if the Germans defended the area with strong troops rather than minefields. Zhukov admitted losing 120 tanks and armored cars that day—a high price, but necessary to avert defeat. Years later, Zhukov defended his Nomonhan tactics, arguing he knew his armor would suffer heavy losses, but that was the only way to prevent the Japanese from seizing the bridge at the river confluence. Had Komatsubara's forces advanced unchecked for another two or three hours, they might have fought through to the Soviet bridge and linked with the Yasuoka detachment, endangering Zhukov's forces. Zhukov credited Yakovlev, Lesovoi, and their men with stabilizing the crisis through timely and self-sacrificing counterattacks. The armored car battalion of the 8th MPR Cavalry Division also distinguished itself in this action. Zhukov and his tankmen learned valuable lessons in those two days of brutal combat. A key takeaway was the successful use of large tank formations as an independent primary attack force, contrary to then-orthodox doctrine, which saw armor mainly as infantry support and favored integrating armor into every infantry regiment rather than maintaining large, autonomous armored units. The German blitzkrieg demonstrations in Poland and Western Europe soon followed, but, until then, few major armies had absorbed the tank-warfare theories championed by Basil Liddell-Hart and Charles de Gaulle. The Soviet high command's leading proponent of large-scale tank warfare had been Marshal Mikhail Tukhachevsky. His execution in 1937 erased those ideas, and the Red Army subsequently disbanded armored divisions and dispersed tanks among infantry, misapplying battlefield lessons from the Spanish Civil War. Yet Zhukov was learning a different lesson on a different battlefield. The open terrain of eastern Mongolia favored tanks, and Zhukov was a rapid learner. The Russians also learned mundane, but crucial, lessons: Japanese infantry bravely clambering onto their vehicles taught Soviet tank crews to lock hatch lids from the inside. The BT-5 and BT-7 tanks were easily set aflame by primitive hand-thrown firebombs, and rear deck ventilation grills and exhaust manifolds were vulnerable and required shielding. Broadly, the battle suggested to future Red Army commander Zhukov that tank and motorized troops, coordinated with air power and mobile artillery, could decisively conduct rapid operations. Zhukov was not the first to envision combining mobile firepower with air and artillery, but he had rare opportunities to apply this formula in crucial tests. The July offensive confirmed to the Soviets that the Nomonhan incident was far from a border skirmish; it signaled intent for further aggression. Moscow's leadership, informed by Richard Sorge's Tokyo network, perceived Japan's renewed effort to draw Germany into an anti-Soviet alliance as a dangerous possibility. Stalin and Vyacheslav Molotov began indicating to Joachim von Ribbentrop and Adolf Hitler that Berlin's stance on the Soviet–Japanese conflict would influence Soviet-German rapprochement considerations. Meanwhile, Moscow decided to reinforce Zhukov. Tens of thousands of troops and machines were ordered to Mongolia, with imports from European Russia. Foreign diplomats traveling the Trans-Siberian Railway reported eastbound trains jammed with personnel and matériel. The buildup faced a major bottleneck at Borzya, the easternmost railhead in the MPR, about 400 miles from the Halha. To prevent a logistics choke, a massive truck transport operation was needed. Thousands of trucks, half-tracks, gun-towing tractors, and other vehicles were organized into a continuous eight-hundred-mile, five-day shuttle run. The Trans-Baikal Military District, under General Shtern, supervised the effort. East of the Halha, many Japanese officers still refused to accept a failure verdict for the July offensive. General Komatsubara did not return to Hailar, instead establishing a temporary divisional HQ at Kanchuerhmiao, where his staff grappled with overcoming Soviet firepower. They concluded that night combat—long a staple of Japanese infantry tactics—could offset Soviet advantages. On July 7 at 9:30 p.m., a thirty-minute Japanese artillery barrage preceded a nighttime assault by elements of the 64th and 72nd Regiments. The Soviet 149th Infantry Regiment and supporting Mongolian cavalry were surprised and forced to fall back toward the Halha before counterattacking. Reinforcements arrived on both sides, and in brutal close-quarters combat the Japanese gained a partial local advantage, but were eventually pushed back; Major I. M. Remizov of the 149th Regiment was killed and later posthumously named a Hero of the Soviet Union. Since late May, Soviet engineers had built at least seven bridges across the Halha and Holsten Rivers to support operations. By July 7–8, Japanese demolition teams destroyed two Soviet bridges. Komatsubara believed that destroying bridges could disrupt Soviet operations east of the Halha and help secure the border. Night attacks continued from July 8 to July 12 against the Soviet perimeter, with Japanese assaults constricting Zhukov's bridgehead while Soviet artillery and counterattacks relentlessly pressed. Casualties mounted on both sides. The Japanese suffered heavy losses but gained some positions; Soviet artillery, supported by motorized infantry and armor, gradually pushed back the attackers. The biggest problem for Japan remained Soviet artillery superiority and the lack of a commensurate counter-battery capability. Japanese infantry had to withdraw to higher ground at night to avoid daytime exposure to artillery and tanks. On the nights of July 11–12, Yamagata's 64th Regiment and elements of Colonel Sakai Mikio's 72nd Regiment attempted a major assault on the Soviet bridgehead. Despite taking heavy casualties, the Japanese managed to push defenders back to the river on occasion, but Soviet counterattacks, supported by tiresome artillery and armor, prevented a decisive breakthrough. Brigade Commander Yakovlev of the 11th Armored, who led several counterattacks, was killed and later honored as a Hero of the Soviet Union; his gun stands today as a monument at the battlefield. The July 11–12 action marked the high-water mark of the Kwantung Army's attempt to expel Soviet/MPR forces east of the Halha. Komatsubara eventually suspended the costly night attacks; by that night, the 64th Regiment had suffered roughly 80–90 killed and about three times that number wounded. The decision proved controversial, with some arguing that he had not realized how close his forces had come to seizing the bridge. Others argued that broader strategic considerations justified the pause. Throughout the Nomonhan fighting, Soviet artillery superiority, both quantitative and qualitative, became painfully evident. The Soviet guns exacted heavy tolls and repeatedly forced Japanese infantry to withdraw from exposed positions. The Japanese artillery, in contrast, could not match the Red Army's scale. By July 25, Kwantung Army ended its artillery attack, a humiliating setback. Tokyo and Hsinking recognized the futility of achieving a decisive military victory at Nomonhan and shifted toward seeking a diplomatic settlement, even if concessions to the Soviet Union and the MPR were necessary. Kwantung Army, however, opposed negotiations, fearing it would echo the "Changkufeng debacle" and be read by enemies as weakness. Tsuji lamented that Kwantung Army's insistence on framing the second phase as a tie—despite heavy Soviet losses, revealed a reluctance to concede any territory. Differences in outlook and policy between AGS and Kwantung Army—and the central army's inability to impose its will on Manchukuo's field forces—became clear. The military establishment buzzed with stories of gekokujo (the superiority of the superior) within Kwantung Army and its relations with the General Staff. To enforce compliance, AGS ordered General Isogai to Tokyo for briefings, and KwAHQ's leadership occasionally distanced itself from AGS. On July 20, Isogai arrived at General Staff Headquarters and was presented with "Essentials for Settlement of the Nomonhan Incident," a formal document outlining a step-by-step plan for Kwantung Army to maintain its defensive position east of the Halha while diplomatic negotiations proceeded. If negotiations failed, Kwantung Army would withdraw to the boundary claimed by the Soviet Union by winter. Isogai, the most restrained member of the Kwantung Army circle, argued against accepting the Essentials, insisting on preserving Kwantung Army's honor and rejecting a unilateral east-bank withdrawal. A tense exchange followed, but General Nakajima ended the dispute by noting that international boundaries cannot be determined by the army alone. Isogai pledged to report the General Staff's views to his commander and take the Essentials back to KwAHQ for study. Technically, the General Staff's Essentials were not orders; in practice, however, they were treated as such. Kwantung Army tended to view them as suggestions and retained discretion in implementation. AGS hoped the Essentials would mollify Kwantung Army's wounded pride. The August 4 decision to create a 6 Army within Kwantung Army, led by General Ogisu Rippei, further complicated the command structure. Komatsubara's 23rd Division and nearby units were attached to the 6 Army, which also took responsibility for defending west-central Manchukuo, including the Nomonhan area. The 6 Army existed largely on paper, essentially a small headquarters to insulate KwAHQ from battlefield realities. AGS sought a more accountable layer of command between KwAHQ and the combat zone, but General Ueda and KwAHQ resented the move and offered little cooperation. In the final weeks before the last battles, General Ogisu and his small staff had limited influence on Nomonhan. Meanwhile, the European crisis over German demands on Poland intensified, moving into a configuration highly favorable to the Soviet Union. By the first week of August, it became evident in the Kremlin that both Anglo-French powers and the Germans were vying to secure an alliance with Moscow. Stalin knew now that he would likely have a free hand in the coming war in the West. At the same time, Richard Sorge, the Soviet master spy in Tokyo, correctly reported that Japan's top political and military leaders sought to prevent the escalation of the Nomonhan incident into an all-out war. These developments gave the cautious Soviet dictator the confidence to commit the Red Army to large-scale combat operations in eastern Mongolia. In early August, Stalin ordered preparations for a major offensive to clear the Nomonhan area of the "Japanese samurai who had violated the territory of the friendly Outer Mongolian people." The buildup of Zhukov's 1st Army Group accelerated still further. Its July strength was augmented by the 57th and 82nd Infantry Divisions, the 6th Tank Brigade, the 212th Airborne Brigade, numerous smaller infantry, armor, and artillery units, and two Mongolian cavalry divisions. Soviet air power in the area was also greatly strengthened. When this buildup was completed by mid-August, Zhukov commanded an infantry force equivalent to four divisions, supported by two cavalry divisions, 216 artillery pieces, 498 armored vehicles, and 581 aircraft. To bring in the supplies necessary for this force to launch an offensive, General Shtern's Trans-Baikal Military District Headquarters amassed a fleet of more than 4,200 vehicles, which trucked in about 55,000 tons of materiel from the distant railway depot at Borzya. The Japanese intelligence network in Outer Mongolia was weak, a problem that went unremedied throughout the Nomonhan incident. This deficiency, coupled with the curtailment of Kwantung Army's transborder air operations, helps explain why the Japanese remained ignorant of the scope of Zhukov's buildup. They were aware that some reinforcements were flowing eastward across the Trans-Siberian Railway toward the MPR but had no idea of the volume. Then, at the end of July, Kwantung Army Intelligence intercepted part of a Soviet telegraph transmission indicating that preparations were under way for some offensive operation in the middle of August. This caused a stir at KwAHQ. Generals Ueda and Yano suspected that the enemy planned to strike across the Halha River. Ueda's initial reaction was to reinforce the 23rd Division at Nomonhan with the rest of the highly regarded 7th Division. However, the 7th Division was Kwantung Army's sole strategic reserve, and the Operations Section was reluctant to commit it to extreme western Manchukuo, fearing mobilization of Soviet forces in the Maritime Province and a possible attack in the east near Changkufeng. The Kwantung Army commander again ignored his own better judgment and accepted the Operations Section's recommendation. The main strength of the 7th Division remained at its base near Tsitsihar, but another infantry regiment, the 28th, was dispatched to the Nomonhan area, as was an infantry battalion from the Mukden Garrison. Earlier, in mid-July, Kwantung Army had sent Komatsubara 1,160 individual replacements to make up for casualties from earlier fighting. All these reinforcements combined, however, did little more than replace losses: as of July 25, 1,400 killed (including 200 officers) and 3,000 wounded. Kwantung Army directed Komatsubara to dig in, construct fortifications, and adopt a defensive posture. Colonel Numazaki, who commanded the 23rd Division's Engineer Regiment, was unhappy with the defensive line he was ordered to fortify and urged a slight pullback to more easily defensible terrain. Komatsubara, however, refused to retreat from ground his men had bled to take. He and his line officers still nourished hope of a revenge offensive. As a result, the Japanese defensive positions proved to be as weak as Numazaki feared. As Zhukov's 1st Army Group prepared to strike, the effective Japanese strength at Nomonhan was less than 1.5 divisions. Major Tsuji and his colleagues in the Operations Section had little confidence in Kwantung Army's own Intelligence Section, which is part of the reason why Tsuji frequently conducted his own reconnaissance missions. Up to this time it was gospel in the Japanese army that the maximum range for large-scale infantry operations was 125–175 miles from a railway; anything beyond 200 miles from a railway was considered logistically impossible. Since Kwantung Army had only 800 trucks available in all of Manchukuo in 1939, the massive Soviet logistical effort involving more than 4,200 trucks was almost unimaginable to the Japanese. Consequently, the Operations Staff believed it had made the correct defensive deployments if a Soviet attack were to occur, which it doubted. If the enemy did strike at Nomonhan, it was believed that it could not marshal enough strength in that remote region to threaten the reinforced 23rd Division. Furthermore, the 7th Division, based at Tsitsihar on a major rail line, could be transported to any trouble spot on the eastern or western frontier in a few days. KwAHQ advised Komatsubara to maintain a defensive posture and prepare to meet a possible enemy attack around August 14 or 15. At this time, Kwantung Army also maintained a secret organization codenamed Unit 731, officially the Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department of the Kwantung Army. Unit 731 specialized in biological and chemical warfare, with main facilities and laboratories in Harbin, including a notorious prison-laboratory complex. During the early August lull at Nomonhan, a detachment from Unit 731 infected the Halha River with bacteria of an acute cholera-like strain. There are no reports in Soviet or Japanese accounts that this attempted biological warfare had any effect. In the war's final days, Unit 731 was disbanded, Harbin facilities demolished, and most personnel fled to Japan—but not before they gassed the surviving 150 human subjects and burned their corpses. The unit's commander, Lieutenant General Ishii Shiro, kept his men secret and threatened retaliation against informers. Ishii and his senior colleagues escaped prosecution at the Tokyo War Crimes Trials by trading the results of their experiments to U.S. authorities in exchange for immunity. The Japanese 6th Army exerted some half-hearted effort to construct defensive fortifications, but scarcity of building materials, wood had to be trucked in from far away—helped explain the lack of enthusiasm. More importantly, Japanese doctrine despised static defense and favored offense, so Kwantung Army waited to see how events would unfold. West of the Halha, Zhukov accelerated preparations. Due to tight perimeter security, few Japanese deserters, and a near-absence of civilian presence, Soviet intelligence found it hard to glean depth on Japanese defensive positions. Combat intelligence could only reveal the frontline disposition and closest mortar and artillery emplacements. Aerial reconnaissance showed photographs, but Japanese camouflage and mock-ups limited their usefulness. The new commander of the 149th Mechanized Infantry Regiment personally directed infiltration and intelligence gathering, penetrating Japanese lines on several nights and returning crucial data: Komatsubara's northern and southern flanks were held by Manchukuoan cavalry, and mobile reserves were lacking. With this information, Zhukov crafted a plan of attack. The main Japanese strength was concentrated a few miles east of the Halha, on both banks of the Holsten River. Their infantry lacked mobility and armor, and their flanks were weak. Zhukov decided to split the 1st Army Group into three strike forces: the central force would deliver a frontal assault to pin the main Japanese strength, while the northern and southern forces, carrying the bulk of the armor, would turn the Japanese flanks and drive the enemy into a pocket to be destroyed by the three-pronged effort. The plan depended on tactical surprise and overwhelming force at the points of attack. The offensive was to begin in the latter part of August, pending final approval from Moscow. To ensure tactical surprise, Zhukov and his staff devised an elaborate program of concealment and deception, disinformation. Units and materiel arriving at Tamsag Bulak toward the Halha were moved only at night with lights out. Noting that the Japanese were tapping telephone lines and intercepting radio messages, 1st Army Headquarters sent a series of false messages in an easily decipherable code about defensive preparations and autumn-winter campaigning. Thousands of leaflets titled "What the Infantryman Should Know about Defense" were distributed among troops. About two weeks before the attack, the Soviets brought in sound equipment to simulate tank and aircraft engines and heavy construction noises, staging long, loud performances nightly. At first, the Japanese mistook the sounds for large-scale enemy activity and fired toward the sounds. After a few nights, they realized it was only sound effects, and tried to ignore the "serenade." On the eve of the attack, the actual concentration and staging sounds went largely unnoticed by the Japanese. On August 7–8, Zhukov conducted minor attacks to expand the Halha bridgehead to a depth of two to three miles. These attacks, contained relatively easily by Komatsubara's troops, reinforced Kwantung Army's false sense of confidence. The Japanese military attaché in Moscow misread Soviet press coverage. In early August, the attaché advised that unlike the Changkufeng incident a year earlier, Soviet press was largely ignoring the conflict, implying low morale and a favorable prognosis for the Red Army. Kwantung Army leaders seized on this as confirmation to refrain from any display of restraint or doubt, misplaced confidence. There were, however, portents of danger. Three weeks before the Soviet attack, Colonel Isomura Takesuki, head of Kwantung Army's Intelligence Section, warned of the vulnerability of the 23rd Division's flanks. Tsuji and colleagues dismissed this, and General Kasahara Yukio of AGS also went unheeded. The "desk jockey" General Staff officers commanded little respect at KwAHQ. Around August 10, General Hata Yuzaburo, Komatsubara's successor as chief of the Special Services Agency at Harbin, warned that enemy strength in the Mongolian salient was very great and seriously underestimated at KwAHQ. Yet no decisive action followed before Zhukov's attack. Kwantung Army's inaction and unpreparedness prior to the Soviet offensive appear to reflect faulty intelligence compounded by hubris. But a more nuanced explanation suggests a fatalistic wishful thinking rooted in the Japanese military culture—the belief that their spiritual strength would prevail, leading them to assume enemy strength was not as great as reported, or that victory was inevitable regardless of resources. Meanwhile, in the rational West, the Nazi war machine faced the Polish frontier as Adolf Hitler pressed Stalin for a nonaggression pact. The German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact would neutralize the threat of a two-front war for Germany and clear the way for Hitler's invasion of Poland. If the pact was a green light, it signaled in both directions: it would also neutralize the German threat to Russia and clear the way for Zhukov's offensive at Nomonhan. On August 18–19, Hitler pressed Stalin to receive Ribbentrop in Moscow to seal the pact. Thus, reassured in the West, Stalin dared to act boldly against Japan. Zhukov supervised final preparations for his attack. Zhukov held back forward deployments until the last minute. By August 18, he had only four infantry regiments, a machine gun brigade, and Mongolian cavalry east of the Halha. Operational security was extremely tight: a week before the attack, Soviet radio traffic in the area virtually ceased. Only Zhukov and a few key officers worked on the plan, aided by a single typist. Line officers and service chiefs received information on a need-to-know basis. The date for the attack was shared with unit commanders one to four days in advance, depending on seniority. Noncommissioned officers and ordinary soldiers learned of the offensive one day in advance and received specific orders three hours before the attack.   Heavy rain grounded Japanese aerial reconnaissance from August 17 to midday on the 19th, but on August 19 Captain Oizumi Seisho in a Japanese scout plane observed the massing of Soviet forces near the west bank of the Halha. Enemy armor and troops were advancing toward the river in dispersed formations, with no new bridges but pontoon stocks spotted near the river. Oizumi sent a warning to a frontline unit and rushed back to report. The air group dispatched additional recon planes and discovered that the Japanese garrison on Fui Heights, near the northern end of Komatsubara's line, was being encircled by Soviet armor and mechanized infantry—observed by alarmed Japanese officers on and near the heights. These late discoveries on August 19 were not reported to KwAHQ and had no effect on the 6th Army and the 23rd Division's alertness on the eve of the storm. As is common in militaries, a fatal gap persisted between those gathering intelligence and those in a position to act on it. On the night of August 19–20, under cover of darkness, the bulk of the Soviet 1st Army Group crossed the Halha into the expanded Soviet enclave on the east bank.  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. By August, European diplomacy left Moscow confident in a foothold against Germany and Britain, while Sorge's intelligence indicated Japan aimed to avoid a full-blown war. Stalin ordered a major offensive to clear Nomonhan, fueling Zhukov's buildup in eastern Mongolia. Kwantung Army, hampered by limited logistics, weak intelligence, and defensive posture, faced mounting pressure. 

By popular demand, the 15-Minute History team is re-airing one of our most popular episodes. This originally aired on April 8th, 2019. New episode next Monday, March 2nd. ____The name “Enterprise” is not exclusive to fictional starships or the space shuttle; in fact, nineteen ships of the British Royal Navy and nine of the United States Navy have born the name (spelled either with an S or a Z). Undoubtedly, the most famous USS Enterprise is the World War Two-era aircraft carrier, which fought in more battles in the Pacific War than any other vessel, earned twenty battle stars, and is today the most decorated ship in American naval history. “The Big E,” (first of her many nicknames) was commissioned in May 1938 and attached to the Atlantic fleet for her first year of service. As tensions rose with Japan and the Navy Department realized the importance of aircraft carriers in the Pacific, the Enterprise was transferred to the Pacific Fleet and based first at San Diego and then at Pearl Harbor.Join us as we teach you about the most decorated ship in the history of the US Navy, the USS Enterprise. We talk about her history, engagements, and why she was called, The Grey Ghost. When it comes to the United States Navy, names carry with them the legends of those ships which came before, and history will surely not forget the name Enterprise. 

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the Nomohan incident. On the fringes of Manchuria, the ghosts of Changkufeng lingered. It was August 1938 when Soviet and Japanese forces locked in a brutal standoff over a disputed hill, claiming thousands of lives before a fragile ceasefire redrew the lines. Japan, humiliated yet defiant, withdrew, but the Kwantung Army seethed with resentment. As winter thawed into 1939, tensions simmered along the Halha River, a serpentine boundary between Manchukuo and Mongolia. Major Tsuji Masanobu, a cunning tactician driven by gekokujo's fire, drafted Order 1488: a mandate empowering local commanders to annihilate intruders, even luring them across borders. Kwantung's leaders, bonded by past battles, endorsed it, ignoring Tokyo's cautions amid the grinding China War. By May, the spark ignited. Mongolian patrols crossed the river, clashing with Manchukuoan cavalry near Nomonhan's sandy hills. General Komatsubara, ever meticulous, unleashed forces to "destroy" them, bombing west-bank outposts and pursuing retreats. Soviets, bound by pact, rushed reinforcements, their tanks rumbling toward the fray. What began as skirmishes ballooned into an undeclared war.   #189 General Zhukov Arrives at Nomohan 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. Though Kwantung Army prided itself as an elite arm of the Imperial Japanese Army, the 23rd Division, formed less than a year prior, was still raw and unseasoned, lacking the polish and spirit typical of its parent force. From General Michitaro Komatsubara downward, the staff suffered a collective dearth of combat experience. Intelligence officer Major Yoshiyasu Suzuki, a cavalryman, had no prior intel background. While senior regimental commanders were military academy veterans, most company and platoon leaders were fresh reservists or academy graduates with just one or two years under their belts. Upon arriving in Manchukuo in August 1938, the division found its Hailar base incomplete, housing only half its troops; the rest scattered across sites. Full assembly at Hailar occurred in November, but harsh winter weather curtailed large-scale drills. Commanders had scant time to build rapport. This inexperience, inadequate training, and poor cohesion would prove costly at Nomonhan. Japan's army held steady at 17 divisions from 1930 to 1937, but the escalating China conflict spurred seven new divisions in 1938 and nine in 1939. Resource strains from China left many under-equipped, with the 23rd, stationed in a presumed quiet sector, low on priorities. Unlike older "rectangular" divisions with four infantry regiments, the 23rd was a modern "triangular" setup featuring the 64th, 71st, and 72nd. Materiel gaps were glaring. The flat, open terrain screamed for tanks, yet the division relied on a truck-equipped transport regiment and a reconnaissance regiment with lightly armored "tankettes" armed only with machine guns. Mobility suffered: infantry marched the final 50 miles from Hailar to Nomonhan. Artillery was mostly horse-drawn, including 24 outdated Type 38 75-mm guns from 1907, the army's oldest, unique to this division. Each infantry regiment got four 37-mm rapid-fire guns and four 1908-era 75-mm mountain guns. The artillery regiment added 12 120-mm howitzers, all high-angle, short-range pieces ill-suited for flatlands or anti-tank roles. Antitank capabilities were dire: beyond rapid-fire guns, options boiled down to demolition charges and Molotov cocktails, demanding suicidal "human bullet" tactics in open terrain, a fatal flaw against armor. The division's saving grace lay in its soldiers, primarily from Kyushu, Japan's southernmost main island, long famed for hardy warriors. These men embodied resilience, bravery, loyalty, and honor, offsetting some training and gear deficits. Combat at Nomonhan ramped up gradually, with Japanese-Manchukuoan forces initially outnumbering Soviet-Mongolian foes. Soviets faced severe supply hurdles: their nearest rail at Borzya sat 400 miles west of the Halha River, requiring truck hauls over rough, exposed terrain prone to air strikes. Conversely, Hailar was 200 miles from Nomonhan, with the Handagai railhead just 50 miles away, linked by three dirt roads. These advantages, plus Europe's brewing Polish crisis, likely reassured Army General Staff and Kwantung Army Headquarters that Moscow would avoid escalation. Nonetheless, Komatsubara, with KwAHQ's nod, chose force to quash the Nomonhan flare-up. On May 20, Japanese scouts spotted a Soviet infantry battalion and armor near Tamsag Bulak. Komatsubara opted to "nip the incident in the bud," assembling a potent strike force under Colonel Takemitsu Yamagata of the 64th Infantry Regiment. The Yamagata detachment included the 3rd Battalion, roughly four companies, 800 men, a regimental gun company, three 75-mm mountain guns, four 37-mm rapid-fires, three truck companies, and Lieutenant Colonel Yaozo Azuma's reconnaissance group, 220 men, one tankette, two sedans, 12 trucks. Bolstered by 450 local Manchukuoan troops, the 2,000-strong unit was tasked with annihilating all enemy east of the Halha. The assault was set for May 22–23. No sooner had General Komatsubara finalized this plan than he received a message from KwAHQ: "In settling the affair Kwantung Army has definite plans, as follows: For the time being Manchukuoan Army troops will keep an eye on the Outer Mongolians operating near Nomonhan and will try to lure them onto Manchukuoan territory. Japanese forces at Hailar [23rd Division] will maintain surveillance over the situation. Upon verification of a border violation by the bulk of the Outer Mongolian forces, Kwantung Army will dispatch troops, contact the enemy, and annihilate him within friendly territory. According to this outlook it can be expected that enemy units will occupy border regions for a considerable period; but this is permissible from the overall strategic point of view". At this juncture, Kwantung Army Headquarters advocated tactical caution to secure a more conclusive outcome. Yet, General Michitaro Komatsubara had already issued orders for Colonel Takemitsu Yamagata's assault. Komatsubara radioed Hsinking that retracting would be "undignified," resenting KwAHQ's encroachment on his authority much as KwAHQ chafed at Army General Staff interference. Still, "out of deference to Kwantung Army's feelings," he delayed to May 27 to 28. Soviet air units from the 57th Corps conducted ineffective sorties over the Halha River from May 17 to 21. Novice pilots in outdated I 15 biplanes suffered heavily: at least 9, possibly up to 17, fighters and scouts downed. Defense Commissar Kliment Voroshilov halted air ops, aiding Japanese surprise. Yamagata massed at Kanchuerhmiao, 40 miles north of Nomonhan, sending patrols southward. Scouts spotted a bridge over the Halha near its Holsten junction, plus 2 enemy groups of ~200 each east of the Halha on either Holsten side and a small MPR outpost less than a mile west of Nomonhan. Yamagata aimed to trap and destroy these east of the river: Azuma's 220 man unit would drive south along the east bank to the bridge, blocking retreat. The 4 infantry companies and Manchukuoan troops, with artillery, would attack from the west toward enemy pockets, herding them riverward into Azuma's trap. Post destruction, mop up any west bank foes near the river clear MPR soil swiftly. This intricate plan suited early MPR foes but overlooked Soviet units spotted at Tamsag Bulak on May 20, a glaring oversight by Komatsubara and Yamagata. Predawn on May 28, Yamagata advanced from Kanchuerhmiao. Azuma detached southward to the bridge. Unbeknownst, it was guarded by Soviet infantry, engineers, armored cars, and a 76 mm self propelled artillery battery—not just MPR cavalry. Soviets detected Azuma pre dawn but missed Yamagata's main force; surprise was mutual. Soviet MPR core: Major A E Bykov's battalion roughly 1000 men with 3 motorized infantry companies, 16 BA 6 armored cars, 4 76 mm self propelled guns, engineers, and a 5 armored car recon platoon. The 6th MPR Cavalry Division roughly 1250 men had 2 small regiments, 4 76 mm guns, armored cars, and a training company. Bykov arrayed north to south: 2 Soviet infantry on flanks, MPR cavalry center, unorthodox, as cavalry suits flanks. Spread over 10 miles parallel to but east of the Halha, 1 mile west of Nomonhan. Reserves: 1 infantry company, engineers, and artillery west of the river near the bridge; Shoaaiibuu's guns also west to avoid sand. Japanese held initial edges in numbers and surprise, especially versus MPR cavalry. Offsets: Yamagata split into 5 weaker units; radios failed early, hampering coordination; Soviets dominated firepower with self propelled guns, 4 MPR pieces, and BA 6s, armored fighters with 45 mm turret guns, half track capable, 27 mph speed, but thin 9 mm armor vulnerable to close heavy machine guns. Morning of May 28, Yamagata's infantry struck Soviet MPR near Nomonhan, routing lightly armed MPR cavalry and forcing Soviet retreats toward the Halha. Shoaaiibuu rushed his training company forward; Japanese overran his post, killing him and most staff. As combat neared the river, Soviet artillery and armored cars slowed Yamagata. He redirected to a low hill miles east of the Halha with dug in Soviets—failing to notify Azuma. Bykov regrouped 1 to 2 miles east of the Halha Holsten junction, holding firm. By late morning, Yamagata stalled, digging in against Soviet barrages. Azuma, radio silent due to faults, neared the bridge to find robust Soviet defenses. Artillery commander Lieutenant Yu Vakhtin shifted his 4 76 mm guns east to block seizure. Azuma lacked artillery or anti tank tools, unable to advance. With Yamagata bogged down, Azuma became encircled, the encirclers encircled. Runners reached Yamagata, but his dispersed units couldn't rally or breakthrough. By noon, Azuma faced infantry and cavalry from the east, bombardments from west (both Halha sides). Dismounted cavalry dug sandy defenses. Azuma could have broken out but held per mission, awaiting Yamagata, unaware of the plan shift. Pressure mounted: Major I M Remizov's full 149th Regiment recent Tamsag Bulak arrivals trucked in, tilting odds. Resupply failed; ammo dwindled. Post dusk slackening: A major urged withdrawal; Azuma refused, deeming retreat shameful without orders, a Japanese army hallmark, where "retreat" was taboo, replaced by euphemisms like "advance in a different direction." Unauthorized pullback meant execution. Dawn May 29: Fiercer Soviet barrage, 122 mm howitzers, field guns, mortars, armored cars collapsed trenches. An incendiary hit Azuma's sedan, igniting trucks with wounded and ammo. By late afternoon, Soviets closed to 50 yards on 3 fronts; armored cars breached rear. Survivors fought desperately. Between 6:00 and 7:00 p.m., Azuma led 24 men in a banzai charge, cut down by machine guns. A wounded medical lieutenant ordered escapes; 4 succeeded. Rest killed or captured. Komatsubara belatedly reinforced Yamagata on May 29 with artillery, anti tank guns, and fresh infantry. Sources claim Major Tsuji arrived, rebuked Yamagata for inaction, and spurred corpse recovery over 3 nights, yielding ~200 bodies, including Azuma's. Yamagata withdrew to Kanchuerhmiao, unable to oust foes. Ironically, Remizov mistook recovery truck lights for attacks, briefly pulling back west on May 30. By June 3, discovering the exit, Soviet MPR reoccupied the zone. Japanese blamed:  (1) poor planning/recon by Komatsubara and Yamagata,  (2) comms failures,  (3) Azuma's heavy weapon lack. Losses: ~200 Azuma dead, plus 159 killed, 119 wounded, 12 missing from main force, total 500, 25% of detachment. Soviets praised Vakhtin for thwarting pincers. Claims: Bykov 60 to 70 casualties; TASS 40 killed, 70 wounded total Soviet/MPR. Recent Russian: 138 killed, 198 wounded. MPR cavalry hit hard by Japanese and friendly fire. Soviet media silent until June 26; KwAHQ censored, possibly misleading Tokyo. May 30: Kwantung Chief of Staff General Rensuke Isogai assured AGS of avoiding prolongation via heavy frontier blows, downplaying Soviet buildup and escalation. He requested river crossing gear urgently.   This hinted at Halha invasion (even per Japanese borders: MPR soil). AGS's General Gun Hashimoto affirmed trust in localization: Soviets' vexations manageable, chastisement easy. Colonel Masazumi Inada's section assessed May 31: 1. USSR avoids expansion.  2. Trust Kwantung localization.  3. Intervene on provocative acts like deep MPR air strikes. Phase 1 ended: Kwantung called it mutual win loss, but inaccurate, Azuma destroyed, heavy tolls, remorse gnawing Komatsubara. On June 1, 1939, an urgent summons from Moscow pulled the young deputy commander of the Byelorussian Military District from Minsk to meet Defense Commissar Marshal Kliment Voroshilov. He boarded the first train with no evident concern, even as the army purges faded into memory. This rising cavalry- and tank-expert, Georgy Konstantinovich Zhukov, would later help defend Moscow in 1941, triumph at Stalingrad and Kursk, and march to Berlin as a Hero of the Soviet Union.Born in 1896 to a poor family headed by a cobbler, Zhukov joined the Imperial Army in 1915 as a cavalryman. Of average height but sturdy build, he excelled in horsemanship and earned the Cross of St. George and noncommissioned status for bravery in 1916. After the October Revolution, he joined the Red Army and the Bolshevik Party, fighting in the Civil War from 1918 to 1921. His proletarian roots, tactical skill, and ambition propelled him: command of a regiment by 1923, a division by 1931. An early advocate of tanks, he survived the purges, impressing superiors as a results-driven leader and playing a key role in his assignment to Mongolia. In Voroshilov's office on June 2, Zhukov learned of recent clashes. Ordered to fly east, assess the situation, and assume command if needed, he soon met acting deputy chief Ivan Smorodinov, who urged candid reports. Europe's war clouds and rising tensions with Japan concerned the Kremlin. Hours later, Zhukov and his staff flew east. Arriving June 5 at Tamsag Bulak (57th Corps HQ), Zhukov met the staff and found Corps Commander Nikolai Feklenko and most aides clueless; only Regimental Commissar M. S. Nikishev had visited the front. Zhukov toured with Nikishev that afternoon and was impressed by his grasp. By day's end, Zhukov bluntly reported: this is not a simple border incident; the Japanese are likely to escalate; the 57th Corps is inadequate. He suggested holding the eastern Halha bridgehead until reinforcements could enable a counteroffensive, and he criticized Feklenko. Moscow replied on June 6: relieve Feklenko; appoint Zhukov. Reinforcements arrived: the 36th Mechanized Infantry Division; the 7th, 8th, and 9th Mechanized Brigades; the 11th Tank Brigade; the 8th MPR Cavalry Division; a heavy artillery regiment; an air wing of more than 100 aircraft, including 21 pilots who had earned renown in the Spanish Civil War. The force was redesignated as the First Army Group. In June, these forces surged toward Tamsag Bulak, eighty miles west of Halha. However, General Michitaro Komatsubara's 23rd Division and the Kwantung Army Headquarters missed the buildup and the leadership change, an intelligence failure born of carelessness and hubris and echoing May's Azuma disaster, with grave battlefield consequences. Early June remained relatively quiet: the Soviet MPR expanded the east-bank perimeter modestly; there was no major Japanese response. KwAHQ's Commander General Kenkichi Ueda, hoping for a quick closure, toured the Fourth Army from May 31 to June 18. Calm broke on June 19. Komatsubara reported two Soviet strikes inside Manchukuo: 15 planes hit Arshan, inflicting casualties on men and horses; 30 aircraft set fire to 100 petroleum barrels near Kanchuerhmiao. In fact, the raids were less dramatic than described: not on Kanchuerhmiao town (a 3,000-person settlement, 40 miles northwest of Nomonhan) but on a supply dump 12 miles south of it. "Arshan" referred to a small village near the border, near Arshanmiao, a Manchukuoan cavalry depot, not a major railhead at Harlun Arshan 100 miles southeast. The raids were strafing runs rather than bombs. Possibly retaliation for May 15's Japanese raid on the MPR Outpost 7 (two killed, 15 wounded) or a response to Zhukov's bridgehead push. Voroshilov authorized the action; motive remained unclear. Nonetheless, KwAHQ, unused to air attacks after dominating skies in Manchuria, Shanghai (1932), and China, was agitated. The situation resembled a jolt akin to the 1973 North Vietnamese strike on U.S. bases in Thailand: not unprovoked, but shocking. Midday June 19, the Operations Staff met. Major Masanobu Tsuji urged swift reprisal; Colonel Masao Terada urged delay in light of the Tientsin crisis (the new Japanese blockade near Peking). Tsuji argued that firmness at Nomonhan would impress Britain; inaction would invite deeper Soviet bombardments or invasion. He swayed Chief Colonel Takushiro Hattori and others, including Terada. They drafted a briefing: the situation was grave; passivity risked a larger invasion and eroded British respect for Japanese might. After two hours of joint talks, most KwAHQ members supported a strong action. Tsuji drafted a major Halha crossing plan to destroy Soviet MPR forces. Hattori and Terada pressed the plan to Chief of Staff General Rensuke Isogai, an expert on Manchukuo affairs but not operations; he deferred to Deputy General Otozaburo Yano, who was absent. They argued urgency; Isogai noted delays in AGS approval. The pair contended for local Kwantung prerogative, citing the 1937 Amur cancellation; AGS would likely veto. Under pressure, Isogai assented, pending Ueda's approval. Ueda approved but insisted that the 23rd Division lead, not the 7th. Hattori noted the 7th's superiority (four regiments in a "square" arrangement versus the 23rd's three regiments, with May unreliability). Ueda prioritized Komatsubara's honor: assigning another division would imply distrust; "I'd rather die." The plan passed on June 19, an example of gekokujo in action. The plan called for reinforcing the 23rd with: the 2nd Air Group (180 aircraft, Lieutenant General Tetsuji Gigi); the Yasuoka Detachment (Lieutenant General Masaomi Yasuoka: two tank regiments, motorized artillery, and the 26th Infantry of the 7th). Total strength: roughly 15,000 men, 120 guns, 70 tanks, 180 aircraft. KwAHQ estimated the enemy at about 1,000 infantry, 10 artillery pieces, and about 12 armored vehicles, expecting a quick victory. Reconnaissance to Halha was curtailed to avoid alerting the Soviets. Confidence ran high, even as intel warned otherwise. Not all leaders were convinced: the 23rd's ordnance colonel reportedly committed suicide over "awful equipment." An attaché, Colonel Akio Doi, warned of growing Soviet buildup, but operations dismissed the concern. In reality, Zhukov's force comprised about 12,500 men, 109 guns, 186 tanks, 266 armored cars, and more than 100 aircraft, offset by the Soviets' armor advantage. The plan echoed Yamagata's failed May 28 initiative: the 23rd main body would seize the Fui Heights (11 miles north of Halha's Holsten junction), cross by pontoon, and sweep south along the west bank toward the Soviet bridge. Yasuoka would push southeast of Halha to trap and destroy the enemy at the junction. On June 20, Tsuji briefed Komatsubara at Hailar, expressing Ueda's trust while pressing to redeem May's failures. Limited pontoon capacity would not support armor; the operation would be vulnerable to air power. Tsuji's reconnaissance detected Soviet air presence at Tamsag Bulak, prompting a preemptive strike and another plan adjustment. KwAHQ informed Tokyo of the offensive in vague terms (citing raids but withholding air details). Even this caused debate; Minister Seishiro Itagaki supported Ueda's stance, favoring a limited operation to ease nerves. Tokyo concurred, unaware of the air plans. Fearing a veto on the Tamsag Bulak raid (nearly 100 miles behind MPR lines), KwAHQ shielded details from the Soviets and Tokyo. A June 29–30 ground attack was prepared; orders were relayed by courier. The leak reached Tokyo on June 24. Deputy Chief General Tetsuzo Nakajima telegrammed three points: 1) AGS policy to contain the conflict and avoid West MPR air attacks;  2) bombing risks escalation;  3) sending Lieutenant Colonel Yadoru Arisue on June 25 for liaison. Polite Japanese diplomatic phrasing allowed Operations to interpret the message as a suggestion. To preempt Arisue's explicit orders, Tsuji urged secrecy from Ueda, Isogai, and Yano, and an advanced raid to June 27. Arisue arrived after the raid on Tamsag Bulak and Bain Tumen (deeper into MPR territory, now near Choibalsan). The Raid resulted in approximately 120 Japanese planes surprising the Soviets, grounding and destroying aircraft and scrambling their defense. Tsuji, flying in a bomber, claimed 25 aircraft destroyed on the ground and about 100 in the air. Official tallies reported 98 destroyed and 51 damaged; ground kills estimated at 50 to 60 at Bain Tumen. Japanese losses were relatively light: one bomber, two fighters, one scout; seven dead. Another Japanese bomber was shot down over MPR, but the crew was rescued. The raid secured air superiority for July.   Moscow raged over the losses and the perceived failure to warn in time. In the purge era, blame fell on suspected spies and traitors; Deputy Mongolian Commander Luvsandonoi and ex-57th Deputy A. M. Kushchev were accused, arrested, and sent to Moscow. Luvsandonoi was executed; Kushchev received a four-year sentence, later rising to major general and Hero. KwAHQ celebrated; Operations notified AGS by radio. Colonel Masazumi Inada rebuked: "You damned idiot! What do you think the true meaning of this little success is?" A withering reprimand followed. Stunned but unrepentant, KwAHQ soon received Tokyo's formal reprimand: "Report was received today regarding bombing of Outer Mongolian territory by your air units… . Since this action is in fundamental disagreement with policy which we understood your army was taking to settle incident, it is extremely regretted that advance notice of your intent was not received. Needless to say, this matter is attended with such farreaching consequences that it can by no means be left to your unilateral decision. Hereafter, existing policy will be definitely and strictly observed. It is requested that air attack program be discontinued immediately" By Order of the Chief of Staff  By this time, Kwantung Army staff officers stood in high dudgeon. Tsuji later wrote that "tremendous combat results were achieved by carrying out dangerous operations at the risk of our lives. It is perfectly clear that we were carrying out an act of retaliation. What kind of General Staff ignores the psychology of the front lines and tramples on their feelings?" Tsuji drafted a caustic reply, which Kwantung Army commanders sent back to Tokyo, apparently without Ueda or other senior KwAHQ officers' knowledge: "There appear to be certain differences between the Army General Staff and this Army in evaluating the battlefield situation and the measures to be adopted. It is requested that the handling of trivial border-area matters be entrusted to this Army." That sarcastic note from KwAHQ left a deep impression at AGS, which felt something had to be done to restore discipline and order. When General Nakajima informed the Throne about the air raid, the emperor rebuked him and asked who would assume responsibility for the unauthorized attack. Nakajima replied that military operations were ongoing, but that appropriate measures would be taken after this phase ended. Inada sent Terada a telegram implying that the Kwantung Army staff officers responsible would be sacked in due course. Inada pressed to have Tsuji ousted from Kwantung Army immediately, but personnel matters went through the Army Ministry, and Army Minister Itagaki, who knew Tsuji personally, defended him. Tokyo recognized that the situation was delicate; since 1932, Kwantung Army had operated under an Imperial Order to "defend Manchukuo," a broad mandate. Opinions differed in AGS about how best to curb Kwantung Army's operational prerogatives. One idea was to secure Imperial sanction for a new directive limiting Kwantung Army's autonomous combat actions to no more than one regiment. Several other plans circulated. In the meantime, Kwantung Army needed tighter control. On June 29, AGS issued firm instructions to KwAHQ: Directives: a) Kwantung Army is responsible for local settlement of border disputes. b) Areas where the border is disputed, or where defense is tactically unfeasible, need not be defended. Orders: c) Ground combat will be limited to the border region between Manchukuo and Outer Mongolia east of Lake Buir Nor. d) Enemy bases will not be attacked from the air. With this heated exchange of messages, the relationship between Kwantung Army and AGS reached a critical moment. Tsuji called it the "breaking point" between Hsinking and Tokyo. According to Colonel Inada, after this "air raid squabble," gekokujo became much more pronounced in Hsinking, especially within Kwantung Army's Operations Section, which "ceased making meaningful reports" to the AGS Operations Section, which he headed. At KwAHQ, the controversy and the perception of AGS interference in local affairs hardened the resolve of wavering staff officers to move decisively against the USSR. Thereafter, Kwantung Army officers as a group rejected the General Staff's policy of moderation in the Nomonhan incident. Tsuji characterized the conflict between Kwantung Army and the General Staff as the classic clash between combat officers and "desk jockeys." In his view, AGS advocated a policy of not invading enemy territory even if one's own territory was invaded, while Kwantung Army's policy was not to allow invasion. Describing the mindset of the Kwantung Army (and his own) toward the USSR in this border dispute, Tsuji invoked the samurai warrior's warning: "Do not step any closer or I shall be forced to cut you down." Tsuji argued that Kwantung Army had to act firmly at Nomonhan to avoid a larger war later. He also stressed the importance, shared by him and his colleagues, of Kwantung Army maintaining its dignity, which he believed was threatened by both enemy actions and the General Staff. In this emotionally charged atmosphere, the Kwantung Army launched its July offensive. The success of the 2nd Air Group's attack on Tamsag Bulak further inflated KwAHQ's confidence in the upcoming offensive. Although aerial reconnaissance had been intentionally limited to avoid alarming or forewarning the enemy, some scout missions were flown. The scouts reported numerous tank emplacements under construction, though most reports noted few tanks; a single report of large numbers of tanks was downplayed at headquarters. What drew major attention at KwAHQ were reports of large numbers of trucks leaving the front daily and streaming westward into the Mongolian interior. This was interpreted as evidence of a Soviet pullback from forward positions, suggesting the enemy might sense the imminent assault. Orders were issued to speed up final preparations for the assault before Soviet forces could withdraw from the area where the Japanese "meat cleaver" would soon dismember them. What the Japanese scouts had actually observed was not a Soviet withdrawal, but part of a massive truck shuttle that General Grigori Shtern, now commander of Soviet Forces in the Far East, organized to support Zhukov. Each night, Soviet trucks, from distant MPR railway depots to Tamsag Bulak and the combat zone, moved eastward with lights dimmed, carrying supplies and reinforcements. By day, the trucks returned westward for fresh loads. It was these returning trucks, mostly empty, that the Japanese scouts sighted. The Kwantung interpretation of this mass westbound traffic was a serious error, though understandable. The Soviet side was largely ignorant of Japanese preparations, partly because the June 27 air raid had disrupted Soviet air operations, including reconnaissance. In late June, the 23rd Division and Yasuoka's tank force moved from Hailar and Chiangchunmiao toward Nomonhan. A mix of military and civilian vehicles pressed into service, but there was still insufficient motorized transport to move all troops and equipment at once. Most infantry marched the 120 miles to the combat zone, under a hot sun, carrying eighty-pound loads. They arrived after four to six days with little time to recover before the scheduled assault. With Komatsubara's combined force of about 15,000 men, 120 guns, and 70 tanks poised to attack, Kwantung Army estimated Soviet-MPR strength near Nomonhan and the Halha River at about 1,000 men, perhaps ten anti-aircraft guns, ten artillery pieces, and several dozen tanks. In reality, Japanese air activity, especially the big raid of June 27, had put the Soviets on alert. Zhukov suspected a ground attack might occur, though nothing as audacious as a large-scale crossing of the Halha was anticipated. During the night of July 1, Zhukov moved his 11th Tank Brigade, 7th Mechanized Brigade, and 24th Mechanized Infantry Regiment (36th Division) from their staging area near Tamsag Bulak to positions just west of the Halha River. Powerful forces on both sides were being marshaled with little knowledge of the enemy's disposition. As the sun scorched the Mongolian steppes, the stage was set for a clash that would echo through history. General Komatsubara's 23rd Division, bolstered by Yasuoka's armored might and the skies commanded by Gigi's air group, crept toward the Halha River like a predator in the night. Fifteen thousand Japanese warriors, their boots heavy with dust and resolve, prepared to cross the disputed waters and crush what they believed was a faltering foe. Little did they know, Zhukov's reinforcements, tanks rumbling like thunder, mechanized brigades poised in the shadows, had transformed the frontier into a fortress of steel. Miscalculations piled like sand dunes: Japanese scouts mistook supply convoys for retreats, while Soviet eyes, blinded by the June raid, underestimated the impending storm. Kwantung's gekokujo spirit burned bright, defying Tokyo's cautions, as both sides hurtled toward a brutal reckoning. What began as border skirmishes now threatened to erupt into full-scale war, testing the mettle of empires on the edge. 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. Patrols in May led to failed Japanese offensives, like Colonel Yamagata's disastrous assault and the Azuma detachment's annihilation. Tensions rose with air raids, including Japan's June strike on Soviet bases. By July, misjudged intelligence set the stage for a major confrontation, testing imperial ambitions amid global war clouds.

Tameichi Hara descended from Japan's samurai class.  He graduated from the Imperial Japanese Naval Academy in 1921 and began a career at sea.  When war started with the United States in 1941, Hara was serving as the captain of the destroyer Amatsukaze.  He went on to command a destroyer division and participated in major engagements throughout the war.  His last assignment at sea was captain of the light cruiser Yahagi tasked with a suicide mission to attack Allied forces during the Battle of Okinawa.  The Yahagi was sunk but somehow Hara survived.  He was the only Japanese destroyer captain at the start of the war to survive.  This book, Japanese Destroyer Captain, are his memoirs. 

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

Last time we spoke about the battle of Nanchang. After securing Hainan and targeting Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway corridors, Japan's 11th Army, backed by armor, air power, and riverine operations, sought a rapid, surgical seizure of Nanchang to sever eastern Chinese logistics and coerce Chongqing. China, reorganizing under Chiang Kai-shek, concentrated over 200,000 troops across 52 divisions in the Ninth and Third War Zones, with Xue Yue commanding the 9th War Zone in defense of Wuhan-Nanchang corridors. The fighting began with German-style, combined-arms river operations along the Xiushui and Gan rivers, including feints, river crossings, and heavy artillery, sometimes using poison gas. From March 20–23, Japanese forces established a beachhead and advanced into Fengxin, Shengmi, and later Nanchang, despite stiff Chinese resistance and bridges being destroyed. Chiang's strategic shift toward attrition pushed for broader offensives to disrupt railways and rear areas, though Chinese plans for a counteroffensive repeatedly stalled due to logistics and coordination issues. By early May, Japanese forces encircled and captured Nanchang, albeit at heavy cost, with Chinese casualties surpassing 43,000 dead and Japanese losses over 2,200 dead.    #187 The Battle of Suixian–Zaoyang-Shatow 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. Having seized Wuhan in a brutal offensive the previous year, the Japanese sought not just to hold their ground but to solidify their grip on this vital hub. Wuhan, a bustling metropolis at the confluence of the Yangtze and Han Rivers, had become a linchpin in their strategy, a base from which they could project power across central China. Yet, the city was far from secure, Chinese troops in northern Hubei and southern Henan, perched above the mighty Yangtze, posed an unrelenting threat. To relieve the mounting pressure on their newfound stronghold, the Japanese high command orchestrated a bold offensive against the towns of Suixian and Zaoyang. They aimed to annihilate the main force of the Chinese 5th War Zone, a move that would crush the Nationalist resistance in the region and secure their flanks. This theater of war, freshly designated as the 5th War Zone after the grueling Battle of Wuhan, encompassed a vast expanse west of Shashi in the upper Yangtze basin. It stretched across northern Hubei, southern Henan, and the rugged Dabie Mountains in eastern Anhui, forming a strategic bulwark that guarded the eastern approaches to Sichuan, the very heartland of the Nationalist government's central institutions. Historian Rana Mitter in Forgotten Ally described this zone as "a gateway of immense importance, a natural fortress that could either serve as a launchpad for offensives against Japanese-held territories or a defensive redoubt protecting the rear areas of Sichuan and Shaanxi". The terrain itself was a defender's dream and an attacker's nightmare: to the east rose the imposing Dabie Mountains, their peaks cloaked in mist and folklore; the Tongbai Mountains sliced across the north like a jagged spine; the Jing Mountains guarded the west; the Yangtze River snaked southward, its waters a formidable barrier; the Dahong Mountains dominated the center, offering hidden valleys for ambushes; and the Han River (also known as the Xiang River) carved a north-south path through it all. Two critical transport arteries—the Hanyi Road linking Hankou to Yichang in Hubei, and the Xianghua Road connecting Xiangyang to Huayuan near Hankou—crisscrossed this landscape, integrating the war zone into a web of mobility. From here, Chinese forces could menace the vital Pinghan Railway, that iron lifeline running from Beiping (modern Beijing) to Hankou, while also threatening the Wuhan region itself. In retreat, it provided a sanctuary to shield the Nationalist heartlands. As military strategist Sun Tzu might have appreciated, this area had long been a magnet for generals, its contours shaping the fates of empires since ancient times. Despite the 5th War Zone's intricate troop deployments, marked by units of varying combat prowess and a glaring shortage of heavy weapons, the Chinese forces made masterful use of the terrain to harass their invaders. Drawing from accounts in Li Zongren's memoirs, he noted how these defenders, often outgunned but never outmaneuvered, turned hills into fortresses and rivers into moats. In early April 1939, as spring rains turned paths to mud, Chinese troops ramped up their disruptions along the southern stretches of the Pinghan Railway, striking from both eastern and western flanks with guerrilla precision. What truly rattled the Japanese garrison in Wuhan was the arrival of reinforcements: six full divisions redeployed to Zaoyang, bolstering the Chinese capacity to launch flanking assaults that could unravel Japanese supply lines. Alarmed by this buildup, the Japanese 11th Army, ensconced in the Wuhan area under the command of General Yasuji Okamura, a figure whose tactical acumen would later earn him notoriety in the Pacific War, devised a daring plan. They intended to plunge deep into the 5th War Zone, smashing the core of the Chinese forces and rendering them impotent, thereby neutralizing the northwestern threat to Wuhan once and for all. From April onward, the Japanese mobilized with meticulous preparation, amassing troops equipped with formidable artillery, rumbling tanks, and squadrons of aircraft that darkened the skies. Historians estimate they committed roughly three and a half divisions to this endeavor, as detailed in Edward J. Drea's In the Service of the Emperor: Essays on the Imperial Japanese Army. Employing a classic pincer movement, a two-flank encirclement coupled with a central breakthrough, they aimed for a swift, decisive strike to obliterate the main Chinese force in the narrow Suixian-Zaoyang corridor, squeezed between the Tongbai and Dahong Mountains. The offensive erupted in full fury on May 1, 1939, as Japanese columns surged forward like a tidal wave, their engines roaring and banners fluttering in the dust-choked air. General Li Zongren, the commander of the 5th War Zone, a man whose leadership had already shone in earlier campaigns like the defense of Tai'erzhuang in 1938, issued urgent orders to cease offensive actions against the Japanese and pivot to a defensive stance. Based on intelligence about the enemy's dispositions, Li orchestrated a comprehensive campaign structure, assigning precise defensive roles and battle plans to each unit. This was no haphazard scramble; it was a symphony of strategy, as Li himself recounted in his memoirs, emphasizing the need to exploit the terrain's natural advantages. While various Chinese war zones executed the "April Offensive" from late April to mid-May, actively harrying and containing Japanese forces, the 5th War Zone focused its energies on the southern segment of the Pinghan Railway, assaulting it from both sides in a bid to disrupt logistics. The main force of the 31st Army Group, under the command of Tang Enbo, a general known for his aggressive tactics and later criticized for corruption, shifted from elsewhere in Hubei to Zaoyang, fortifying the zone and posing a dire threat to the Japanese flanks and rear areas. To counter this peril and safeguard transportation along the Wuhan-Pinghan Railway, the Japanese, led by the formidable Okamura, unleashed their assault from the line stretching through Xinyang, Yingshan, and Zhongxiang. Mobilizing the 3rd, 13th, and 16th Divisions alongside the 2nd and 4th Cavalry Brigades, they charged toward the Suixian-Zaoyang region in western Hubei, intent on eradicating the Chinese main force and alleviating the siege-like pressure on Wuhan. In a masterful reorganization, Li Zongren divided his forces into two army groups, the left and right, plus a dedicated river defense army. His strategy was a blend of attrition and opportunism: harnessing the Tongbai and Dahong Mountains, clinging to key towns like lifelines, and grinding down the Japanese through prolonged warfare while biding time for a counterstroke. This approach echoed the Fabian tactics of ancient Rome, wearing the enemy thin before delivering the coup de grâce. The storm broke at dawn on May 1, when the main contingents of the Japanese 16th and 13th Divisions, bolstered by the 4th Cavalry Brigade from their bases in Zhongxiang and Jingshan, hurled themselves against the Chinese 37th and 180th Divisions of the Right Army Group. Supported by droning aircraft that strafed from above and tanks that churned the earth below, the Japanese advanced with mechanical precision. By May 4, they had shattered the defensive lines flanking Changshoudian, then surged along the east bank of the Xiang River toward Zaoyang in a massive offensive. Fierce combat raged through May 5, as described in Japanese war diaries compiled in Senshi Sōsho (the official Japanese war history series), where soldiers recounted the relentless Chinese resistance amid the smoke and clamor. The Japanese finally breached the defenses, turning their fury on the 122nd Division of the 41st Army. In a heroic stand, the 180th Division clung to Changshoudian, providing cover for the main force's retreat along the east-west Huangqi'an line. The 37th Division fell back to the Yaojiahe line, while elements of the 38th Division repositioned into Liushuigou. On May 6, the Japanese seized Changshoudian, punched through Huangqi'an, and drove northward, unleashing a devastating assault on the 122nd Division's positions near Wenjiamiao. Undeterred, Chinese defenders executed daring flanking maneuvers in the Fenglehe, Yaojiahe, Liushuihe, Shuanghe, and Zhangjiaji areas, turning the landscape into a labyrinth of ambushes. May 7 saw the Japanese pressing on, capturing Zhangjiaji and Shuanghe. By May 8, they assaulted Maozifan and Xinji, where ferocious battles erupted, soldiers clashing in hand-to-hand combat amid the ruins. By May 10, the Japanese had overrun Huyang Town and Xinye, advancing toward Tanghe and the northeastern fringes of Zaoyang. Yet, the Tanghe River front witnessed partial Chinese recoveries: remnants of the Right Army Group, alongside troops from east of the Xianghe, reclaimed Xinye. The 122nd and 180th Divisions withdrew north of Tanghe and Fancheng, while the 37th, 38th, and 132nd Divisions steadfastly held the east bank of the Xianghe River. Concurrently, the main force of the Japanese 3rd Division launched from Yingshan against the 84th and 13th Armies of the 11th Group Army in the Suixian sector. After a whirlwind of combat, the Chinese 84th Army retreated to the Taerwan position. On May 2, the 3rd Division targeted the Gaocheng position of the 13th Army within the 31st Group Army; the ensuing clashes in Taerwan and Gaocheng were a maelstrom of fire, with the Taerwan position exchanging hands multiple times like a deadly game of tug-of-war. By May 4, in a grim escalation, Japanese forces deployed poison gas, a violation of international norms that drew condemnation and is documented in Allied reports from the era, inflicting horrific casualties and compelling the Chinese to relinquish Gaocheng, which fell into enemy hands. On May 5, backed by aerial bombardments, tank charges, and artillery barrages, the Japanese renewed their onslaught along the Gaocheng River and the Lishan-Jiangjiahe line. By May 6, the beleaguered Chinese were forced back to the Tianhekou and Gaocheng line. Suixian succumbed on May 7. On May 8, the Japanese shattered the second line of the 84th Army, capturing Zaoyang and advancing on the Jiangtoudian position of the 85th Army. To evade encirclement, the defenders mounted a valiant resistance before withdrawing from Jiangtoudian; the 84th Army relocated to the Tanghe and Baihe areas, while the 39th Army embedded itself in the Dahongshan for guerrilla operations—a tactic that would bleed the Japanese through hit-and-run warfare, as noted in guerrilla warfare studies by Mao Zedong himself. By May 10, the bulk of the 31st Army Group maneuvered toward Tanghe, reaching north of Biyang by May 15. From Xinyang, Japanese forces struck at Tongbai on May 8; by May 10, elements from Zaoyang advanced to Zhangdian Town and Shangtun Town. In response, the 68th Army of the 1st War Zone dispatched the 143rd Division to defend Queshan and Minggang, and the 119th Division to hold Tongbai. After staunchly blocking the Japanese, they withdrew on May 11 to positions northwest and southwest of Tongbai, shielding the retreat of 5th War Zone units. The Japanese 4th Cavalry Brigade drove toward Tanghe, seizing Tanghe County on May 12. But the tide was turning. In a brilliant reversal, the Fifth War Zone commanded the 31st Army Group, in concert with the 2nd Army Group from the 1st War Zone, to advance from southwestern Henan. Their mission: encircle the bulk of Japanese forces on the Xiangdong Plain and deliver a crushing blow. The main force of the 33rd Army Group targeted Zaoyang, while other units pinned down Japanese rear guards in Zhongxiang. The Chinese counteroffensive erupted with swift successes, Tanghe County was recaptured on May 14, and Tongbai liberated on May 16, shattering the Japanese encirclement scheme. On May 19, after four grueling days of combat, Chinese forces mauled the retreating Japanese, reclaiming Zaoyang and leaving the fields strewn with enemy dead. The 39th Army of the Left Army Group dispersed into the mountains for guerrilla warfare, a shadowy campaign of sabotage and surprise. Forces of the Right Army Group east of the river, along with river defense units, conducted relentless raids on Japanese rears and supply lines over multiple days, sowing chaos before withdrawing to the west bank of the Xiang River on May 21. On May 22, they pressed toward Suixian, recapturing it on May 23. The Japanese, battered and depleted, retreated to their original garrisons in Zhongxiang and Yingshan, restoring the pre-war lines as the battle drew to a close. Throughout this clash, the Chinese held a marked superiority in manpower and coordination, though their deployments lacked full flexibility, briefly placing them on the defensive. After protracted, blood-soaked fighting, they restored the original equilibrium. Despite grievous losses, the Chinese thwarted the Japanese encirclement and exacted a heavy toll, reports from the time, corroborated by Japanese records in Senshi Sōsho, indicate over 13,000 Japanese killed or wounded, with more than 5,000 corpses abandoned on the battlefield. This fulfilled the strategic goal of containing and eroding Japanese strength. Chinese casualties surpassed 25,000, a testament to the ferocity of the struggle. The 5th War Zone seized the initiative in advances and retreats, deftly shifting to outer lines and maintaining positional advantages. As Japanese forces withdrew, Chinese pursuers harried and obstructed them, yielding substantial victories. The Battle of Suizao spanned less than three weeks. The Japanese main force pierced defenses on the east bank of the Han River, advancing to encircle one flank as planned. However, the other two formations met fierce opposition near Suixian and northward, stalling their progress. Adapting to the battlefield's ebb and flow, the Fifth War Zone transformed its tactics: the main force escaped encirclement, maneuvered to outer lines for offensives, and exploited terrain to hammer the Japanese. The pivotal order to flip from defense to offense doomed the encirclement; with the counterattack triumphant, the Japanese declined to hold and retreated. The Chinese pursued with unyielding vigor. By May 24, they had reclaimed Zaoyang, Tongbai, and other locales. Save for Suixian County, the Japanese had fallen back to pre-war positions, reinstating the regional status quo. Thus, the battle concluded, a chapter of resilience etched into the chronicles of China's defiance. In the sweltering heat of southern China, where the humid air clung to every breath like a persistent fog, the Japanese General Staff basked in what they called a triumphant offensive and defensive campaign in Guangdong. But victory, as history so often teaches, is a double-edged sword. By early 1939, the strain was palpable. Their secret supply line snaking from the British colony of Hong Kong to the Chinese mainland was under constant disruption, raids by shadowy guerrilla bands, opportunistic smugglers, and the sheer unpredictability of wartime logistics turning what should have been a lifeline into a leaky sieve. Blockading the entire coastline? A pipe dream, given the vast, jagged shores of Guangdong, dotted with hidden coves and fishing villages that had evaded imperial edicts for centuries. Yet, the General Staff's priorities were unyielding, laser-focused on strangling the Nationalist capital of Chongqing through a relentless blockade. This meant the 21st Army, that workhorse of the Japanese invasion force, had to stay in the fight—no rest for the weary. Drawing from historical records like the Senshi Sōsho (War History Series) compiled by Japan's National Institute for Defense Studies, we know that after the 21st Army reported severing what they dubbed the "secret transport line" at Xinhui, a gritty, hard-fought skirmish that left the local landscape scarred with craters and abandoned supply crates, the General Staff circled back to the idea of a full coastal blockade. It was a classic case of military opportunism: staff officers, poring over maps in dimly lit war rooms in Tokyo, suddenly "discovered" Shantou as a major port. Not just any port, mind you, but a bustling hub tied to the heartstrings of Guangdong's overseas Chinese communities. Shantou and nearby Chao'an weren't mere dots on a map; they were the ancestral hometowns of countless Chaoshan people who had ventured abroad to Southeast Asia, sending back remittances that flowed like lifeblood into the region. Historical economic studies, such as those in The Overseas Chinese in the People's Republic of China by Stephen Fitzgerald, highlight how these funds from the Chaoshan diaspora, often funneled through family networks in places like Singapore and Thailand, were substantial, indirectly fueling China's war effort by sustaining local economies and even purchasing arms on the black market. The Chao-Shao Highway, that dusty artery running near Shantou, was pinpointed as a critical vein connecting Hong Kong's ports to the mainland's interior. So, in early June 1939, the die was cast: Army Order No. 310 thundered from headquarters, commanding the 21st Army to seize Shantou. The Chief of the General Staff himself provided the strategic blueprint, a personal touch that underscored the operation's gravity. The Army Department christened the Chaoshan push "Operation Hua," a nod perhaps to the flowery illusions of easy conquest, while instructing the Navy Department to tag along for the ride. In naval parlance, it became "Operation J," a cryptic label that masked the sheer scale unfolding. Under the Headquarters' watchful eye, what started as a modest blockade morphed into a massive amphibious assault, conjured seemingly out of thin air like a magician's trick, but one with deadly props. The 5th Fleet's orders mobilized an impressive lineup: the 9th Squadron for heavy hitting, the 5th Mine Boat Squadron to clear watery hazards, the 12th and 21st Sweeper Squadrons sweeping for mines like diligent janitors of the sea, the 45th Destroyer Squadron adding destroyer muscle, and air power from the 3rd Combined Air Group (boasting 24 land-based attack aircraft and 9 reconnaissance planes that could spot a fishing boat from miles away). Then there was the Chiyoda Air Group with its 9 reconnaissance aircraft, the Guangdong Air Group contributing a quirky airship and one more recon plane, the 9th Special Landing Squadron from Sasebo trained for beach assaults, and a flotilla of special ships for logistics. On the ground, the 21st Army threw in the 132nd Brigade from the 104th Division, beefed up with the 76th Infantry Battalion, two mountain artillery battalions for lobbing shells over rugged terrain, two engineer battalions to bridge rivers and clear paths, a light armored vehicle platoon rumbling with mechanized menace, and a river-crossing supplies company to keep the troops fed and armed. All under the command of Brigade Commander Juro Goto, a stern officer whose tactical acumen was forged in earlier Manchurian campaigns. The convoy's size demanded rehearsals; the 132nd Brigade trained for boat transfers at Magong in the Penghu Islands, practicing the precarious dance of loading men and gear onto rocking vessels under simulated fire. Secrecy shrouded the whole affair, many officers and soldiers, boarding ships in the dead of night, whispered among themselves that they were finally heading home to Japan, a cruel ruse to maintain operational security. For extra punch, the 21st Army tacked on the 31st Air Squadron for air support, their planes droning like angry hornets ready to sting. This overkill didn't sit well with everyone. Lieutenant General Ando Rikichi, the pragmatic commander overseeing Japanese forces in the region, must have fumed in his Guangzhou headquarters. His intelligence staff, drawing from intercepted radio chatter and local spies as noted in postwar analyses like The Japanese Army in World War II by Gordon L. Rottman, reported that the Chongqing forces in Chaozhou were laughably thin: just the 9th Independent Brigade, a couple of security regiments, and ragtag "self-defense groups" of armed civilians. Why unleash such a sledgehammer on a fly? The mobilization's magnitude even forced a reshuffling of defenses around Guangzhou, pulling resources from the 12th Army's front lines and overburdening the already stretched 18th Division. It was bureaucratic overreach at its finest, a testament to the Imperial Staff's penchant for grand gestures over tactical efficiency. Meanwhile, on the Nationalist side, the winds of war carried whispers of impending doom. The National Revolutionary Army's war histories, such as those compiled in the Zhongguo Kangri Zhanzheng Shi (History of China's War of Resistance Against Japan), note that Chiang Kai-shek's Military Commission had snagged intelligence as early as February 1939 about Japan's plans for a large-scale invasion of Shantou. The efficiency of the Military Command's Second Bureau and the Military Intelligence Bureau was nothing short of astonishing, networks of agents, double agents, and radio intercepts piercing the veil of Japanese secrecy. Even as the convoy slipped out of Penghu, a detailed report outlining operational orders landed on Commander Zhang Fakui's desk, the ink still fresh. Zhang, a battle-hardened strategist whose career spanned the Northern Expedition and beyond , had four months to prepare for what would be dubbed the decisive battle of Chaoshan. Yet, in a move that baffled some contemporaries, he chose not to fortify and defend it tooth and nail. After the Fourth War Zone submitted its opinions, likely heated debates in smoke-filled command posts, Chiang Kai-shek greenlit the plan. By March, the Military Commission issued its strategic policy: when the enemy hit Chaoshan, a sliver of regular troops would team up with civilian armed forces for mobile and guerrilla warfare, grinding down the invaders like sandpaper on steel. The orders specified guerrilla zones in Chaozhou, Jiaxing, and Huizhou, unifying local militias under a banner of "extensive guerrilla warfare" to coordinate with regular army maneuvers, gradually eroding the Japanese thrust. In essence, the 4th War Zone wasn't tasked with holding Chao'an and Shantou at all costs; instead, they'd strike hard during the landing, then let guerrillas harry the occupiers post-capture. It was a doctrine of attrition in a "confined battlefield," honing skills through maneuver and ambush. Remarkably, the fall of these cities was preordained by the Military Commission three months before the Japanese even issued their orders, a strategic feint that echoed ancient Sun Tzu tactics of yielding ground to preserve strength. To execute this, the 4th War Zone birthed the Chao-Jia-Hui Guerrilla Command after meticulous preparation, with General Zou Hong, head of Guangdong's Security Bureau and a no-nonsense administrator known for his anti-smuggling campaigns, taking the helm. In just three months, Zhang Fakui scraped together the Independent 9th Brigade, the 2nd, 4th, and 5th Guangdong Provincial Security Regiments, and the Security Training Regiment. Even with the 9th Army Group lurking nearby, he handed the reins of the Chao-Shan operation to the 12th Army Group's planners. Their March guidelines sketched three lines of resistance from the coast to the mountains, a staged withdrawal that allowed frontline defenders to melt away like ghosts. This blueprint mirrored Chiang Kai-shek's post-Wuhan reassessment, where the loss of that key city in 1938 prompted a shift to protracted warfare. A Xinhua News Agency columnist later summed it up scathingly: "The Chongqing government, having lost its will to resist, colludes with the Japanese and seeks to eliminate the Communists, adopting a policy of passive resistance." This narrative, propagated by Communist sources, dogged Chiang and the National Revolutionary Army for decades, painting them as defeatists even as they bled the Japanese dry through attrition. February 1939 saw Commander Zhang kicking off a reorganization of the 12th Army Group, transforming it from a patchwork force into something resembling a modern army. He could have hunkered down, assigning troops to a desperate defense of Chaoshan, but that would have handed the initiative to the overcautious Japanese General Staff, whose activism often bordered on paranoia. Zhang, with the wisdom of a seasoned general who had navigated the treacherous politics of pre-war China, weighed the scales carefully. His vision? Forge the 12th Army Group into a nimble field army, not squander tens of thousands on a secondary port. Japan's naval and air dominance—evident in the devastation of Shanghai in 1937, meant Guangdong's forces could be pulverized in Shantou just as easily. Losing Chaozhou and Shantou? Acceptable, if it preserved core strength for the long haul. Post-Xinhui, Zhang doubled down on resistance, channeling efforts into live-fire exercises for the 12th Army, turning green recruits into battle-ready soldiers amid the Guangdong hills. The war's trajectory after 1939 would vindicate him: his forces became pivotal in later counteroffensives, proving that a living army trumped dead cities. Opting out of a static defense, Zhang pivoted to guerrilla warfare to bleed the Japanese while clutching strategic initiative. He ordered local governments to whip up coastal guerrilla forces from Chao'an to Huizhou—melding militias, national guards, police, and private armed groups into official folds. These weren't elite shock troops, but in wartime's chaos, they controlled locales effectively, disrupting supply lines and gathering intel. For surprises, he unleashed two mobile units: the 9th Independent Brigade and the 20th Independent Brigade. Formed fresh after the War of Resistance erupted, these brigades shone for their efficiency within the cumbersome Guangdong Army structure. Division-level units were too bulky for spotty communications, so Yu Hanmou's command birthed these independent outfits, staffed with crack officers. The 9th, packing direct-fire artillery for punch, and the 20th, dubbed semi-mechanized for its truck-borne speed, prowled the Chaoshan–Huizhou coast from 1939. Zhang retained their three-regiment setup, naming Hua Zhenzhong and Zhang Shou as commanders, granting them autonomy to command in the field like roving wolves. As the 9th Independent Brigade shifted to Shantou, its 627th Regiment was still reorganizing in Heyuan, a logistical hiccup amid the scramble. Hua Zhenzhong, a commander noted for his tactical flexibility in regional annals, deployed the 625th Regiment and 5th Security Regiment along the coast, with the 626th as reserve in Chao'an. Though the Fourth War Zone had written off Chaoshan, Zhang yearned to showcase Guangdong grit before the pullback. Dawn broke on June 21, 1939, at 4:30 a.m., with Japanese reconnaissance planes slicing through the fog over Shantou, Anbu, and Nanbeigang, ghostly silhouettes against the gray sky. By 5:30, the mist lifted, revealing a nightmare armada: over 40 destroyers and 70–80 landing craft churning toward the coast on multiple vectors, their hulls cutting the waves like knives. The 626th Regiment's 3rd Battalion at Donghushan met the first wave with a hail of fire from six light machine guns, repelling the initial boats in a frenzy of splashes and shouts. But the brigade's long-range guns couldn't stem the tide; Hua focused on key chokepoints, aiming to bloody the invaders rather than obliterate them. By morning, the 3rd Battalion of the 625th Regiment charged into Shantou City, joined by the local police corps digging in amid urban sprawl. Combat raged at Xinjin Port and the airport's fringes, where Nationalist troops traded shots with advancing Japanese under the absent shadow of a Chinese navy. Japanese naval guns, massed offshore, pounded the outskirts like thunder gods in fury. By 2:00 a.m. on the 22nd, Shantou crumpled as defenders' ammo ran dry, the city falling in a haze of smoke and echoes. Before the loss, Hua had positioned the 1st Battalion of the 5th Security Regiment at Anbu, guarding the road to Chao'an. Local lore, preserved in oral histories collected by the Chaozhou Historical Society, recalls Battalion Commander Du Ruo leading from the front, rifle in hand, but Japanese barrages, bolstered by superior firepower—forced a retreat. Post-capture, Tokyo's forces paused to consolidate, unleashing massacres on fleeing civilians in the outskirts. A flotilla of civilian boats, intercepted at sea, became a grim training ground for bayonet drills, a barbarity echoed in survivor testimonies compiled in The Rape of Nanking and Beyond extensions to Guangdong atrocities. With Shantou gone, Hua pivoted to flank defense, orchestrating night raids on Japanese positions around Anbu and Meixi. On June 24th, Major Du Ruo spearheaded an assault into Anbu but fell gravely wounded amid the chaos. Later, the 2nd Battalion of the 626th overran spots near Meixi. A Japanese sea-flanking maneuver targeted Anbu, but Nationalists held at Liulong, sparking nocturnal clashes, grenade volleys, bayonet charges, and hand-to-hand brawls that drained both sides like a slow bleed. June 26th saw the 132nd Brigade lumber toward Chao'an. Hua weighed options: all-out assault or guerrilla fade? He chose to dig in on the outskirts, reserving two companies of the 625th and a special ops battalion in the city. The 27th brought a day-long Japanese onslaught, culminating in Chao'an's fall after fierce rear-guard actions by the 9th Independent Brigade. Evacuations preceded the collapse, with Japanese propaganda banners fluttering falsely, claiming Nationalists had abandoned defense. Yet Hua's call preserved his brigade for future fights; the Japanese claimed an empty prize. 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 Japanese operations had yet again plugged up supply leaks into Nationalist China. The fall of Suixian, Zaoyang and Shantou were heavy losses for the Chinese war effort. However the Chinese were also able to exact heavy casualties on the invaders and thwarted their encirclement attempts. China was still in the fight for her life.

This week Seth Paridon, Jon Parshall and Shawn Bergstrom tackle more of your listener questions as we wade through round four of the Q&A episodes. Questions dealing with POWs, brutality in the PTO, who was replaceable, hidden conversations, and even the dreaded counter-factuals are tackled in this deep dive. Check it out, maybe your question made the cut.

Last time we spoke about the Japanese invasion of Hainan. In early 1939, the Sino-Japanese War shifted from pitched battles to a grueling struggle over lifelines and logistics. Japan pursued a southward strategy (Nanshin-ron), aiming to choke Chinese resistance by isolating key railways and airbases. It seized Hainan in February to secure southern airfields and threaten Indochina routes, then targeted Nanchang to cut the vital Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway, crippling Free China's eastern supply lines. The Japanese used a blended-arms approach: concentrated armor, air support, and amphibious and river operations, focusing on rapid, strategic breakthroughs rather than large-scale frontal assaults. China, though battered, relied on a reconstituted defense around Wuhan and Nanchang, with the Ninth War Zone under Xue Yue delaying Japanese advances and preserving critical corridors south of the Yangtze. The campaign highlighted the war's broader human and political dimensions: massive casualties, forced labor, and internal political fragility within the Kuomintang, even as both sides sought to outlast the other.   #186 The Battle of Nanchang 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. For the Second Sino-Japanese War, 1939 marked a transition from broad occupation tactics to a focused, politically driven military strategy aimed at breaking Nationalist cohesion and isolating key nodes. After the January 11, 1938 Imperial Conference, Tokyo framed the China Conflict as a contest of endurance and political attrition: hold occupied territories as strategic assets, push a narrow operational corridor between Anqing, Xinyang, Yuezhou, and Nanchang, and treat the broader east-of-line spaces as pacified. The aim was to deny resources to Chiang Kai-shek's regime while awaiting a more opportune political rupture, instead of pursuing indiscriminate conquest. By October 1938, the tactical center of gravity shifted toward Wuhan and the Yangtze corridor. General Headquarters acknowledged the need to adapt to a protracted war: emphasize political strategy alongside combat operations, bolster a new regime in areas under pressure, and gradually erode Chongqing's moral and material resolve. This shift produced a dual track: reinforce a centralized, secure core while permitting peripheral fronts to be leveraged against Chongqing.   In early 1939, Japan sought to consolidate gains through layered defenses and strategic war zones, aiming to blunt Chinese mobilization and disrupt critical logistics. The Ninth War Zone, commanded by Xue Yue, formed a defensive umbrella over Nanchang's northern approaches and the surrounding rail-and-river arteries. China's leadership, notably Chiang Kai-shek, pressed for preemption to seize the initiative: an ambitious plan from Xue Yue to strike by March 24, 1939, to prevent a river-crossing Japanese advance and to pin forces before they could entrench. Japan responded with Operation Ren, targeting the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway to sever lines of communication and isolate Nanchang. Okamura Yasuji reorganized heavy weapons into concentrated tank groups, supported by air power, while late-February 1939 movements staged feints and riverine maneuvers to complicate Chinese concentration around Nanchang. The objective was a rapid, surgical seizure of Nanchang to blind the southern airbase network, disrupt the critical rail spine, and push Chinese forces deeper inland, thereby tightening a blockade around southern China. Together, these shifts framed Nanchang not as an isolated objective but as the climactic hinge in a broader strategy of coercive pressure, air-ground mobility, and rail control. The city's fall would represent the culmination of a protracted contest to deny the Nationalist regime its logistical arteries and air superiority, paving the way for further Japanese consolidation and pressure along the Yangtze corridor. In the wake of the Japanese capture of Wuhan in late 1938, the city swiftly transformed into a pivotal stronghold for the Imperial Japanese Army. It became the new base for the 11th Army, occupying the former territories of the National Revolutionary Army's 5th and 9th War Zones. This shift not only consolidated Japanese control over central China but also positioned their forces to launch further offensives, exploiting the region's logistical and geographical advantages. As a key railway hub and the western terminus of the Zhejiang-Hunan Railway, Nanchang served as a vital supply artery connecting the Third and Ninth War Zones of the Nationalist forces. Its airfields further amplified its importance, posing a direct threat to Japanese shipping routes along the Yangtze River. Capturing Nanchang would sever Chinese supply lines, isolate key military districts, and pave the way for deeper incursions into southern China. Faced with this looming threat, the Nationalist government under Chiang Kai-shek moved quickly to reorganize its defenses in the 9th War Zone. General Chen Cheng retained his nominal position as commander in chief, but the actual operational reins were handed to General Xue Yue, a seasoned tactician known for his defensive prowess. This restructuring aimed to streamline command and bolster resistance, yet it was hampered by persistent logistical challenges that rendered many changes ineffective on the ground. As tensions escalated in early 1939, Chinese forces began amassing near Nanchang in preparation for the inevitable clash. Over 200,000 troops from 52 divisions were mobilized, drawing from units across the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi Border Area. This region alone housed more than 29 divisions organized into four army groups: the 1st, 19th, 30th, and 32nd. On paper, this formidable assembly included over 16,000 officers and 240,000 enlisted men, representing a significant concentration of Nationalist power.   Leading this defensive effort was General Chen Cheng as the overarching commander in chief, with General Xue Yue stepping in as the acting commander to oversee day-to-day operations. Within this structure, the 19th Army Group stood out under the command of General Luo Zhuoying, supported by Lieutenant General Luo Weixong as his chief of staff. Luo Zhuoying, in particular, emerged as a central figure, assuming overall command for much of the ensuing Battle of Nanchang. His leadership would be tested against the relentless advance of the Japanese Eleventh Army, setting the stage for one of the bloodiest engagements of the war. In July 1938, during their offensive against Wuhan, Japanese forces attempted to advance toward Nanchang but were halted by Chinese defenders along the Xiushui River. The Chinese had established strong, fortified positions that effectively barred the Japanese path. The impasse endured for the rest of the year, with both armies locked in a standoff on opposite sides of the river. By March of 1939, the 11th Army led by General Okamura Yasuji, part of the Central China Expeditionary Army of General Hata Shunroku comprised 3 divisions, the 6th, 101st and 106th, roughly 120,000 men supported by 130 tanks and tankettes, 200 pieces of artillery, 30 warships with 50 motor boats, a battalion of SNLF and several air squadrons.  On March 12,  the Japanese Central China Expeditionary Army issued orders to its directly subordinate 116th Division. This division was commanded to dispatch two key detachments: the Ishihara Detachment and the Murai Detachment, the latter composed meticulously of five battalions drawn from the 119th Brigade. Their mission was to conduct a thorough search along the eastern shore of Poyang Lake, supported by naval vessels that patrolled the waters with menacing precision. The purpose was multifaceted: to safeguard the integrity of land and water transportation routes and to protect the left flank of the main Japanese force as it prepared for larger operations. By March 15, these detachments had advanced without encountering any resistance from the Chinese army, allowing them to conclude their search operation successfully. Following this, they deployed the necessary troops at key points along the route, establishing garrisons that would serve as footholds for future advances. This reconnaissance was no mere stroll; it was a calculated probe into enemy territory, drawing lessons from prior engagements like the grueling Battle of Xuzhou in 1938, where intelligence gathering had proven crucial to Japanese successes. The Japanese soldiers boots sank into the marshy banks of Poyang Lake, China's largest freshwater body, covering over 3,500 square kilometers and teeming with reeds that could hide ambushes. The lack of opposition allowed the Japanese to fortify their positions, setting the stage for the preemptive strikes that would follow. The tempo of battle quickened on March 17, 1939, as the Japanese army launched its preemptive attack, a move designed to seize the initiative and disrupt Chinese preparations. The very next day, on March 18, the Murai Detachment departed from Xingzi aboard warships, navigating the treacherous waters to land near Wucheng, approximately 30 kilometers northeast of Yongxiu. Their objective was to assault the Chinese defenders in this area, but they encountered fierce resistance from the Chinese 32nd Army and other supporting units, turning the landing into a brutal contest of wills. Concurrently, the main forces of the Japanese 101st and 106th Divisions, bolstered by their artillery and tank units, advanced methodically toward the north bank of the Xiushui River. They occupied their respective attack starting points with precision, after which the artillery units began conducting test firings and further reconnaissance to gauge the strength of Chinese defenses. This phase echoed the Japanese tactics employed in the Battle of Shanghai in 1937, where combined arms operations had overwhelmed urban defenses. A Chinese defender's recollection "We watched the enemy approach like a dark cloud, our rifles ready, knowing that the river would soon run red with the blood of brothers." The climax of preparation erupted at exactly 16:30 on March 20, when the Japanese 11th Army issued orders to the commander of the 6th Artillery Brigade. This commander was directed to orchestrate all available artillery to bombard the positions held by the Chinese 49th and 79th Armies on the south bank of the Xiushui River. What ensued was a pre-general offensive artillery barrage that endured for more than three grueling hours, incorporating a large number of poison gas shells, a heinous weapon that flouted international conventions like the Geneva Protocol of 1925. Many defenders' positions were utterly destroyed in this onslaught, and several officers and soldiers, including the valiant Wang Lingyun, commander of the 76th Division, were poisoned by the toxic fumes, suffering agonizing effects that highlighted the barbarity of chemical warfare. At precisely 19:30 that evening, the 106th Division commenced its forced crossing of the Xiushui River at Qiujin. Later, on the night of the 20th, the 101st Division also initiated its crossing north of Tujiabu. The Xiushui River, measuring about 30 meters in width, had swollen by approximately 3 meters due to continual heavy rains, rendering the crossing exceedingly difficult for the Japanese troops who battled against the raging currents. Nevertheless, the flooding had an unintended benefit for the invaders: many defender positions were inundated, and most water obstacles were washed away by the deluge. Leveraging this, the two Japanese divisions broke through the defenders' front lines and executed continuous night attacks, establishing a beachhead that extended 2 kilometers deep by dawn on the 21st. This foothold provided essential cover for Japanese engineers to construct pontoon bridges amid the chaos. At around 8 a.m., the Japanese tank group crossed these pontoon bridges and launched an attack on the Dongshan garrison from the front of the 106th Division, then proceeded to circle around toward Nanchang along the west side of Nanxun Road. Historian Rana Mitter aptly describes such river crossings as "desperate gambles where nature itself became a combatant," underscoring how environmental factors often tipped the scales in Sino-Japanese confrontations.Chiang Kai-shek, monitoring these developments from his command center, would have felt the weight of impending crisis.   By 21:30 on March 22, the Japanese vanguard tank group had advanced to Fengxin and successfully occupied the Liaohe Bridge outside the South Gate. The sudden and ferocious tank attack caught the defending troops off guard, preventing them from withdrawing the 38 artillery pieces that had been deployed on the city's outskirts before they were forced into a hasty retreat. On March 23, the Japanese army fully occupied Fengxin. Simultaneously, a portion of the 101st Division launched a frontal assault along Nanxun Road. Under the protective cover of artillery, they crossed the Xiushui River and encountered fierce resistance from the Chinese 32nd Army at Tujiabu, resulting in a prolonged stalemate where neither side could gain a decisive advantage. Following the Japanese launch of their general offensive, the Guilin Headquarters of the National Government Military Commission, under Director Bai Chongxi, urgently ordered all units of the Ninth War Zone to hold their positions firmly on March 21. On the same day, Chiang Kai-shek telegraphed Gu Zhutong, commander-in-chief of the Third War Zone, with specific instructions to immediately transfer the 102nd Division to Nanchang to reinforce the city's defenses, placing it under the command of Luo Zhuoying, commander-in-chief of the 19th Army Group. He also ordered the 16th and 79th Divisions to proceed to Dongxiang and Jinxian, southeast of Nanchang, to guard the southern bank of Poyang Lake and provide support for operations in Nanchang. Simultaneously, he commanded the 19th Army Group to deploy approximately two divisions of its strongest forces to strike key enemy points in the rear, including Mahuiling, Ruichang, Jiujiang, and De'an, with the aim of sabotaging railways and highways, cutting off enemy rear-area transportation, and preventing reinforcements from reaching the front. However, due to poor communication, slow troop movements, and inadequate coordination among units, these ambitious plans were not implemented, and the battlefield situation had already undergone significant changes by the time adjustments could be made. On the 23rd, Chiang Kai-shek came to realize that the Japanese army was resolutely determined to capture Nanchang, and thus he conceived the strategic idea of inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy before potentially abandoning the city. He specifically telegraphed Xue Yue, commander-in-chief of the Ninth War Zone; Luo Zhuoying, commander-in-chief of the 19th Army Group; and Xiong Shihui, chairman of Jiangxi Province, with the following directive: "The key to this battle is not the gain or loss of Nanchang, but inflicting the greatest blow on the enemy. Even if Nanchang falls, all our armies should disregard everything and advance toward the designated targets, and decide on future operational plans in accordance with this policy." This telegram, preserved in wartime archives, exemplifies Chiang's shift toward a war of attrition, a tactic that would define much of China's resistance. On March 25, Chiang Kai-shek again telegraphed Bai Chongxi, Xue Yue, Luo Zhuoying, and Gu Zhutong, providing detailed instructions: "1. The main force of Luo's group should maintain focus on the Hunan-Jiangxi Highway, attack the enemy's right flank, and press them toward the Gan River. It is crucial to avoid having the main force operate with its back to the Gan River. (That is, the main force of the 19th Army Group should be moved to a mobile position west of the Gan River to avoid being forced to the Gan River and facing a decisive battle in an unfavorable situation.) 2. A necessary portion should be used to defend the Nanchang front. If necessary, resistance can be carried out gradually between the Fu and Gan Rivers to cover southern Jiangxi." On the very same day, the Japanese army defeated the 102nd Division, which had been reinforced from the Third War Zone, in engagements west of Nanchang. By March 26, the Japanese army had advanced to the vicinity of Shengmi Street on the left bank of the Gan River. They crossed the river that day, executing a maneuver to outflank Nanchang from the south and simultaneously cut off the Zhejiang-Jiangxi Railway, a critical supply line. The main force of the 101st Division also advanced to Shengmi Street via Wanbu and Huangxi on March 26, crossed the Gan River that evening, and launched a direct attack on Nanchang. Its 101st Brigade, moving along the Nanchang-Xuncheng Railway via Lehua and Jiaoqiao, reached the north bank of the Gan River northwest of Nanchang on the 26th. Upon discovering these Japanese advances, the 19th Army urgently ordered the 32nd Army to withdraw from Tujiabu on the Nanchang-Xuncheng Railway back to Nanchang to join the 102nd Division in defending the city. However, before the 32nd Army had fully withdrawn, the Japanese tank group and the 101st Brigade had already advanced to the Gan River bridges to the west and north of Nanchang, respectively. Although the defending forces managed to destroy the bridges to halt their progress west and north of the Gan River, the Japanese 101st Division had already penetrated into Nanchang from the south. The defenders found themselves outnumbered and with weak firepower compared to the invaders. After engaging in intense street fighting, they suffered heavy casualties and were ultimately ordered to retreat to Jinxian. On March 27, the Japanese 101st Division occupied Nanchang, marking a significant, albeit temporary, victory in their campaign. Eyewitness account "The city fell amid the thunder of guns and the wails of the wounded, a testament to the fragility of urban defenses against mechanized onslaught." Following the capture, on March 28, the Japanese 11th Army was ordered to ensure that the main force of the 101st Division would return to Nanchang and that the 106th Division would retake Fengxin, all in preparation for subsequent operations in Gao'an or areas west of Fengxin. By April 2, the Japanese army had occupied Gao'an City, further consolidating their hold on the region. Meanwhile the fighting extended to Wuning. Wuning is located on the north bank of the Xiushui River, approximately 80 kilometers west of the Nanchang-Jiujiang Railway. This position holds immense strategic importance, backed by the formidable Mufu Mountains, and serves as a key point on the left flank of the Ninth War Zone's defense line in northern Jiangxi. The forces deployed here included the 72nd and 78th Armies of the 30th Army Group, along with the 8th and 73rd Armies of the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi Border Advance Army, all positioned along both banks of the Xiushui River under the unified command of Wang Lingji, commander-in-chief of the 30th Army Group. To bolster the defense of Nanchang, the Nationalist Government's Military Commission devised a plan to send a powerful force eastward from Wuning toward Qiujin and De'an, with the intent of harassing the rear and flanks of the enemy advancing south along the Nanchang-Jiujiang Railway and disrupting their transportation networks. After carefully assessing the Chinese deployments and strategic intentions, the Japanese 11th Army also regarded Wuning as a crucial flank in its overall Nanchang campaign. Consequently, they dispatched their 6th Division to Wuning to contain and block the Chinese army, thereby ensuring the safety of its main force's right flank and facilitating the capture of Nanchang. On March 20, while the Japanese army was heavily engaged on the Nanxun Railway front, its 6th Division launched an attack westward along the north bank of the Xiushui River from Ruoxi (situated between Qiujin and Wuning). However, they encountered fierce resistance from the Chinese 73rd and 8th Armies, which resulted in slow and painstaking progress for the attackers. On the afternoon of the 21st, a portion of the 6th Division, under the protective cover of aircraft and artillery, crossed the Xiushui River east of Ruoxi, and the main force directed its assault toward Wuning, while its 36th Brigade targeted Yangzhou Street. The 30th Army Group, tasked with defending Wuning, mounted a tenacious resistance by leveraging the advantageous mountainous terrain, making the Japanese advance extremely difficult. After four days of fierce and unrelenting fighting, the Japanese were still unable to break through the defenders' positions. On the morning of March 23, under continued air and artillery cover, the Japanese army persisted in its fierce attack, repeatedly dropping incendiary and chemical bombs on Chinese positions. The defending forces suffered heavy losses as a result and were compelled to withdraw from Wucheng Town on the 24th, moving farther back to regroup. After occupying Wucheng, the Murai Detachment continued its operations to clear the Gan River and Xiushui River of obstacles and to remove mines that had been laid by the Chinese forces. By the 28th, they had advanced to the vicinity of Xinning Town, which is about 4 kilometers east of Wuning. Its 36th Brigade engaged in fierce fighting with the defending 19th Division at Yangzhou Street on the 24th and successfully captured Jing'an on the 27th; however, due to the conclusion of the Nanchang battle and the fact that its main force was blocked east of Wuning, it quickly returned and redirected its attack toward Wuning. Because the 73rd and 8th Armies had suffered heavy casualties from days of intense fighting, the 30th Army Group ordered the 72nd Army to assume the defense of northeast Wuning. The Japanese 6th Division concentrated its forces for a fierce and coordinated assault, and by the 29th, the defending forces had retreated to the south bank of the Xiushui River, allowing the Japanese army to occupy Wuning. After further intense fighting, by April 5, the Japanese 36th Brigade had advanced to the south bank of the Xiushui River.During this entire period, Chiang Kai-shek repeatedly telegraphed Bai Chongxi and Xue Yue, issuing orders for the 30th Army Group in Wuning and the 31st Army Group in Chongyang and Tongshan (commanded by Tang Enbo) to launch a counteroffensive regardless of the evolving situation in Nanchang. The objective was to flank and attack the enemy's rear, advancing toward Mahuiling, De'an, Yongxiu, and Ruichang on the Nanchang-Xunyi road, to cut off enemy transportation lines and block reinforcements. However, this plan was not implemented due to various logistical and coordination challenges.   After the Japanese army captured Nanchang, it maintained a tense standoff with the Third and Ninth War Zones of China along the southeast bank of Poyang Lake to the east, Xiangtang to the south, and Gao'an, Fengxin, and Wuning to the west. The Military Commission of the National Government made a calculated judgment that although the Japanese had occupied Nanchang, they had suffered heavy losses and had not yet had the opportunity to replenish their forces. The defending forces within the city were deemed insufficient, prompting the Commission to decide on launching a counteroffensive while the Japanese army was still in the process of consolidating its position. At the same time, it ordered each war zone to initiate the "April Offensive" (also known as the "Spring Offensive") with the goals of harassing and containing the Japanese army and preventing it from continuing to advance westward toward Changsha. The Military Commission specifically ordered the Ninth War Zone and the Third War Zone to plan and execute a counteroffensive against Nanchang. The forces designated for this operation were planned to include the 1st, 19th, and 30th Army Groups of the Ninth War Zone and the 32nd Army Group of the Third War Zone, totaling about 10 divisions, all under the unified command of Luo Zhuoying, commander-in-chief of the 19th Army Group. On April 17, Chiang Kai-shek telegraphed his detailed "Plan to Conquer Nanchang" to Bai Chongxi, the director of the Guilin Headquarters, and sought his opinion on the matter. The operational strategy outlined was: "First, use the main force to attack the enemy along the Nanchang-Xunyi Railway, effectively cutting off enemy communications, and then use a portion of the force to directly capture Nanchang. The attack is scheduled to begin on April 24th." The main content of its troop deployment was as follows: The 1st Army Group (Commander-in-Chief Gao Yin-huai), the 19th Army Group, and the 74th Army (Commander Yu Ji-shi) were ordered to advance through Fengxin and Dacheng toward the Nanchang-Xunyi Railway between Xiushui and Nanchang, thoroughly disrupting transportation, cutting off enemy reinforcements, and cooperating in the capture of Nanchang; the 49th Army of the 19th Army Group (Commander Liu Duo-quan) was ordered to advance gradually as the general reserve; the 32nd Army Group (Commander-in-Chief Shangguan Yun-xiang) was ordered to attack Nanchang from the east of the Gan River with three divisions, and to organize a regiment to seize Nanchang by surprise; the 30th Army Group (Commander-in-Chief Wang Ling-ji) was ordered to attack Wuning. On April 18, Bai Chongxi replied to Chiang Kai-shek, offering his own suggestions on troop deployment with slight modifications. He emphasized the critical need for a surprise attack and for disrupting and harassing the enemy's transportation and rear areas, as well as cutting off the enemy's communication lines. He also believed that the attack should be brought forward and carried out as soon as possible, at the latest around the 22nd. On April 21, the forces of the Ninth War Zone began their operations in earnest. The 1st Army Group, comprising the 184th Division of the 60th Army and the New 10th Division of the 58th Army, attacked Fengxin, while the New 11th Division of the 58th Army monitored the Japanese forces in Jing'an; the main force of the 74th Army attacked Gao'an, and parts of the 74th Army and the 49th Army crossed the Jinjiang River to the north, attacking Dacheng and Shengmijie. Fierce fighting continued until the 26th, when the Japanese retreated to the areas of Fengxin, Qiuling, and Wanshougong. The 19th Army Group captured strongholds such as Dacheng, Gao'an, and Shengmijie. However, progress thereafter became difficult, and the offensive stalled. Neither army group was able to advance to the Nanchang-Xunyi Railway as originally planned. On April 23, the 32nd Army Group of the Third War Zone, consisting of the 16th and 79th Divisions of the 29th Army, the 5th Reserve Division, and part of the 10th Reserve Division, crossed the Fu River and launched an attack on Nanchang. Fierce fighting persisted until the 26th, when they captured Shichajie (south of Nanchang) and advanced toward the city. On the 27th, the Japanese concentrated the main force of the 101st Division to launch a counterattack. Supported by heavy artillery and air power, they engaged in fierce fighting with the Chinese army in the southeastern and southern areas, repeatedly contesting villages and strongholds. Due to the heavy casualties sustained, Duan Langru, commander of the 79th Division, changed the offensive deployment on the night of April 28 and reported this alteration to the army and army group commanders. The commander-in-chief of the 32nd Army Group, citing unauthorized changes to the plan, reported to the Third War Zone for approval and requested the dismissal of Duan Langru. Eager to capture Nanchang and driven by strategic impatience, Chiang Kai-shek, upon hearing the report, issued a stern order on May 1: Duan Langru was to be executed in front of the army for delaying military operations, He Ping, commander of the 16th Division, was ordered to atone for his crimes by achieving success in battle, and Shangguan Yunxiang was sent to the front to supervise the battle personally, with a strict deadline of May 5 for capturing Nanchang. On May 2, the 102nd Division recaptured Xiangtang and then Shichajie. The 16th Division once captured Shatanbu, but it was subsequently taken back by Japanese reinforcements. Shangguan Yunxiang then committed the 26th Division into the battle. On May 4, they launched another concerted attack. By dusk on the 5th, the 5th Reserve Division had reached the outer perimeter of the city and destroyed the barbed wire defenses, but Japanese firepower was intensely concentrated, causing the division to suffer heavy casualties and rendering it unable to continue the assault. The 152nd Regiment of the 26th Division broke into Xinlong Airport at dawn on the 5th and destroyed three Japanese aircraft. The 155th Regiment broke into the railway station at 9:00 a.m. on the 5th, but was blocked by fierce Japanese firepower and a determined counterattack. On May 5, after Chiang Kai-shek had issued the order to capture Nanchang by May 5, Xue Yue, acting commander of the Ninth War Zone, held the belief that with troops not having been replenished after the defense of Nanchang and with weaponry far inferior to that of the enemy, it was impossible to capture Nanchang within the subjective timeframe set. However, he did not directly dissent to Chiang Kai-shek, and on May 3, he telegraphed Chen Cheng to express his views in detail. He wrote: "Attacks on Nanchang and Fengxin have continued for 11 days since April 23. Because our army's equipment cannot keep pace with the enemy's, and the enemy's heavy weapons, mechanized units, and aircraft can support their ground forces everywhere, it is quite difficult to destroy the enemy's strong positions. Now I have received the Chairman's telegram: our army's operational strategy is to wear down the enemy without being worn down by the enemy, to avoid the enemy's strength and attack their weaknesses, and to achieve a protracted war of resistance. Therefore, this attack on Nanchang is aimed at wearing down the enemy. Under the principle of avoiding the enemy's strength and attacking their weakness, we should lie in ambush in advance and launch a surprise attack from all sides, hoping to recapture Nanchang with the fastest and most agile means. However, the battle has already dragged on; a direct assault is impossible, and striking their weakness is also unattainable. Although the enemy's strength is waning, it is practically impossible to capture Nanchang before May 5. Besides strictly ordering all units to overcome all difficulties and continue the fierce attack at all costs, I intend to politely explain the above situation to Chiang Kai-shek during a telephone conversation." Chen Cheng forwarded Xue Yue's telegram in full to Chiang Kai-shek on May 5. At the time, Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters, also considered the order to capture Nanchang within a limited time to be unrealistic, and on May 5 he telegraphed Chiang Kai-shek and He Yingqin, subtly offering a different suggestion. He stated, "Our army's attack on the enemy must be unexpected to be effective. Now, the enemy in Nanchang is prepared, and our army has launched a ten-day attack and has exerted all its efforts. To consider morale and our highest strategic principles, it is proposed that one-third of our forces continue the siege of Nanchang, while the other two-thirds are reorganized. Outside, we should continue to publicize our aggressive strategy…" The aim of both telegrams was to "turn the enemy's own spear against his shield," hoping Chiang Kai-shek would alter his order to capture Nanchang within a specified time, citing the operational guidance as inconsistent with the broader strategic policy. Upon receiving the telegrams, Chiang Kai-shek also learned of the sacrifice of Commander Chen Anbao and the heavy casualties among the attacking troops. On May 6, the main force of the Japanese 106th Division, supported by aircraft and tanks, launched a pincer attack on the 29th Army in the suburbs of Nanchang and Liantang. By 5 PM, the 29th Army was encircled. Liu Yuqing, commander of the 26th Division, was wounded in the fighting, and army commander Chen Anbao and Xie Beiting, commander of the 156th Regiment, were killed in action. Based on the actual battlefield situation, Xu Zhixun, chief of staff of the 29th Army, and Liu Yuqing, realizing that capturing Nanchang was impossible, decided to break out toward Zhongzhouwei and Shichajie to avoid total annihilation and potential execution by Chiang Kai-shek for failure. A regiment of the 5th Reserve Division, disguised as civilians, had infiltrated the city but was forced to withdraw due to the lack of follow-up support. Finally, on May 9, Chiang Kai-shek issued an order to halt the attack on Nanchang. The Japanese army, having suffered heavy losses themselves, was also unable to mount an effective counterattack, and thus the Battle of Nanchang came to an end, leaving behind a legacy of valor and tragedy. In the Battle of Nanchang, China suffered more than 52,000 casualties, including over 43,000 deaths, while Japan sustained more than 24,000 casualties and over 2,200 deaths. Although the National Army eventually lost Nanchang, the engagement thwarted Japan's plan to crush the main Chinese force. 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 Nanchang battle was a decisive Japanese victory, yet the Chinese did manage to halt the Japanese western advance and showcased their perseverance amid a growing strategic stalemate. Supplies were still leaking into Nationalist China, the Japanese would have to continuously find and plug them. The war for China was nowhere near over.

In this episode of the US Navy History Podcast, hosts Dale and Christophe delve into the dramatic and pivotal American Carrier raids of 1942 during the early years of World War II. They explore how these daring raids by US Navy carriers, while not always resulting in immediate victories, shifted the momentum of the Pacific War. The discussion covers the strategic and psychological impacts on both the United States and Japan, detailing how the raids forced Japan to reallocate resources and rethink their defensive strategies. They highlight notable raids, such as those on the Marshall Islands, Wake Island, and the Doolittle Raid, illustrating the evolution of carrier warfare and its lasting significance. The episode concludes with a poignant tribute to Specialist Jackson D. Johnson, who faithfully served and sacrificed his life in Kuwait in 2019.

Last time we spoke about the climax of the battle of Lake Khasan. In August, the Lake Khasan region became a tense theater of combat as Soviet and Japanese forces clashed around Changkufeng and Hill 52. The Soviets pushed a multi-front offensive, bolstered by artillery, tanks, and air power, yet the Japanese defenders held firm, aided by engineers, machine guns, and heavy guns. By the ninth and tenth, a stubborn Japanese resilience kept Hill 52 and Changkufeng in Japanese hands, though the price was steep and the field was littered with the costs of battle. Diplomatically, both sides aimed to confine the fighting and avoid a larger war. Negotiations trudged on, culminating in a tentative cease-fire draft for August eleventh: a halt to hostilities, positions to be held as of midnight on the tenth, and the creation of a border-demarcation commission. Moscow pressed for a neutral umpire; Tokyo resisted, accepting a Japanese participant but rejecting a neutral referee. The cease-fire was imperfect, with miscommunications and differing interpretations persisting.    #185 Operation Hainan Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After what seemed like a lifetime over in the northern border between the USSR and Japan, today we are returning to the Second Sino-Japanese War. Now I thought it might be a bit jarring to dive into it, so let me do a brief summary of where we are at, in the year of 1939. As the calendar turned to 1939, the Second Sino-Japanese War, which had erupted in July 1937 with the Marco Polo Bridge Incident and escalated into full-scale conflict, had evolved into a protracted quagmire for the Empire of Japan. What began as a swift campaign to subjugate the Republic of China under Chiang Kai-shek had, by the close of 1938, transformed into a war of attrition. Japanese forces, under the command of generals like Shunroku Hata and Yasuji Okamura, had achieved stunning territorial gains: the fall of Shanghai in November 1937 after a brutal three-month battle that cost over 200,000 Chinese lives; the infamous capture of Nanjing in December 1937, marked by the Nanjing Massacre where an estimated 300,000 civilians and disarmed soldiers were killed in a six-week orgy of violence; and the sequential occupations of Xuzhou in May 1938, Wuhan in October 1938, and Guangzhou that same month.  These victories secured Japan's control over China's eastern seaboard, major riverine arteries like the Yangtze, and key industrial centers, effectively stripping the Nationalists of much of their economic base. Yet, despite these advances, China refused to capitulate. Chiang's government had retreated inland to the mountainous stronghold of Chongqing in Sichuan province, where it regrouped amid the fog-laden gorges, drawing on the vast human reserves of China's interior and the resilient spirit of its people. By late 1938, Japanese casualties had mounted to approximately 50,000 killed and 200,000 wounded annually, straining the Imperial Japanese Army's resources and exposing the vulnerabilities of overextended supply lines deep into hostile territory. In Tokyo, the corridors of the Imperial General Headquarters and the Army Ministry buzzed with urgent deliberations during the winter of 1938-1939. The initial doctrine of "quick victory" through decisive battles, epitomized by the massive offensives of 1937 and 1938, had proven illusory. Japan's military planners, influenced by the Kwantung Army's experiences in Manchuria and the ongoing stalemate, recognized that China's sheer size, with its 4 million square miles and over 400 million inhabitants, rendered total conquest unfeasible without unacceptable costs. Intelligence reports highlighted the persistence of Chinese guerrilla warfare, particularly in the north where Communist forces under Mao Zedong's Eighth Route Army conducted hit-and-run operations from bases in Shanxi and Shaanxi, sabotaging railways and ambushing convoys. The Japanese response included brutal pacification campaigns, such as the early iterations of what would later formalize as the "Three Alls Policy" (kill all, burn all, loot all), aimed at devastating rural economies and isolating resistance pockets. But these measures only fueled further defiance. By early 1939, a strategic pivot was formalized: away from direct annihilation of Chinese armies toward a policy of economic strangulation. This "blockade and interdiction" approach sought to sever China's lifelines to external aid, choking off the flow of weapons, fuel, and materiel that sustained the Nationalist war effort. As one Japanese staff officer noted in internal memos, the goal was to "starve the dragon in its lair," acknowledging the limits of Japanese manpower, total forces in China numbered around 1 million by 1939, against China's inexhaustible reserves. Central to this new strategy were the three primary overland supply corridors that had emerged as China's backdoors to the world, compensating for the Japanese naval blockade that had sealed off most coastal ports since late 1937. The first and most iconic was the Burma Road, a 717-mile engineering marvel hastily constructed between 1937 and 1938 by over 200,000 Chinese and Burmese laborers under the direction of engineers like Chih-Ping Chen. Stretching from the railhead at Lashio in British Burma (modern Myanmar) through treacherous mountain passes and dense jungles to Kunming in Yunnan province, the road navigated elevations up to 7,000 feet with hundreds of hairpin turns and precarious bridges. By early 1939, it was operational, albeit plagued by monsoonal mudslides, banditry, and mechanical breakdowns of the imported trucks, many Ford and Chevrolet models supplied via British Rangoon. Despite these challenges, it funneled an increasing volume of aid: in 1939 alone, estimates suggest up to 10,000 tons per month of munitions, gasoline, and aircraft parts from Allied sources, including early Lend-Lease precursors from the United States. The road's completion in 1938 had been a direct response to the loss of southern ports, and its vulnerability to aerial interdiction made it a prime target in Japanese planning documents. The second lifeline was the Indochina route, centered on the French-built Yunnan-Vietnam Railway (also known as the Hanoi-Kunming Railway), a 465-mile narrow-gauge line completed in 1910 that linked the port of Haiphong in French Indochina to Kunming via Hanoi and Lao Cai. This colonial artery, supplemented by parallel roads and river transport along the Red River, became China's most efficient supply conduit in 1938-1939, exploiting France's uneasy neutrality. French authorities, under Governor-General Pierre Pasquier and later Georges Catroux, turned a blind eye to transshipments, allowing an average of 15,000 to 20,000 tons monthly in early 1939, far surpassing the Burma Road's initial capacity. Cargoes included Soviet arms rerouted via Vladivostok and American oil, with French complicity driven by anti-Japanese sentiment and profitable tolls. However, Japanese reconnaissance flights from bases in Guangdong noted the vulnerability of bridges and rail yards, leading to initial bombing raids by mid-1939. Diplomatic pressure mounted, with Tokyo issuing protests to Paris, foreshadowing the 1940 closure under Vichy France after the fall of France in Europe. The route's proximity to the South China Sea made it a focal point for Japanese naval strategists, who viewed it as a "leak in the blockade." The third corridor, often overlooked but critical, was the Northwest Highway through Soviet Central Asia and Xinjiang province. This overland network, upgraded between 1937 and 1941 with Soviet assistance, connected the Turkestan-Siberian Railway at Almaty (then Alma-Ata) to Lanzhou in Gansu via Urumqi, utilizing a mix of trucks, camel caravans, and rudimentary roads across the Gobi Desert and Tian Shan mountains. Under the Sino-Soviet Non-Aggression Pact of August 1937 and subsequent aid agreements, Moscow supplied China with over 900 aircraft, 82 tanks, 1,300 artillery pieces, and vast quantities of ammunition and fuel between 1937 and 1941—much of it traversing this route. In 1938-1939, volumes peaked, with Soviet pilots and advisors even establishing air bases in Lanzhou. The highway's construction involved tens of thousands of Chinese laborers, facing harsh winters and logistical hurdles, but it delivered up to 2,000 tons monthly, including entire fighter squadrons like the Polikarpov I-16. Japanese intelligence, aware of this "Red lifeline," planned disruptions but were constrained by the ongoing Nomonhan Incident on the Manchurian-Soviet border in 1939, which diverted resources and highlighted the risks of provoking Moscow. These routes collectively sustained China's resistance, prompting Japan's high command to prioritize their severance. In March 1939, the South China Area Army was established under General Rikichi Andō (later succeeded by Field Marshal Hisaichi Terauchi), headquartered in Guangzhou, with explicit orders to disrupt southern communications. Aerial campaigns intensified, with Mitsubishi G3M "Nell" bombers from Wuhan and Guangzhou targeting Kunming's airfields and the Red River bridges, while diplomatic maneuvers pressured colonial powers: Britain faced demands during the June 1939 Tientsin Crisis to close the Burma Road, and France received ultimatums that culminated in the 1940 occupation of northern Indochina. Yet, direct assaults on Yunnan or Guangxi were deemed too arduous due to rugged terrain and disease risks. Instead, planners eyed peripheral objectives to encircle these arteries. This strategic calculus set the stage for the invasion of Hainan Island, a 13,000-square-mile landmass off Guangdong's southern coast, rich in iron and copper but strategically priceless for its position astride the Indochina route and proximity to Hong Kong. By February 1939, Japanese admirals like Nobutake Kondō of the 5th Fleet advocated seizure to establish air and naval bases, plugging blockade gaps and enabling raids on Haiphong and Kunming, a prelude to broader southern expansion that would echo into the Pacific War. Now after the fall campaign around Canton in autumn 1938, the Japanese 21st Army found itself embedded in a relentless effort to sever the enemy's lifelines. Its primary objective shifted from mere battlefield engagements to tightening the choke points of enemy supply, especially along the Canton–Hankou railway. Recognizing that war materiel continued to flow into the enemy's hands, the Imperial General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army to strike at every other supply route, one by one, until the arteries of logistics were stifled. The 21st Army undertook a series of decisive occupations to disrupt transport and provisioning from multiple directions. To sustain these difficult campaigns, Imperial General Headquarters reinforced the south China command, enabling greater operational depth and endurance. The 21st Army benefited from a series of reinforcements during 1939, which allowed a reorganization of assignments and missions: In late January, the Iida Detachment was reorganized into the Formosa Mixed Brigade and took part in the invasion of Hainan Island.  Hainan, just 15 miles across the Qiongzhou Strait from the mainland, represented a critical "loophole": it lay astride the Gulf of Tonkin, enabling smuggling of arms and materiel from Haiphong to Kunming, and offered potential airfields for bombing raids deep into Yunnan. Japanese interest in Hainan dated to the 1920s, driven by the Taiwan Governor-General's Office, which eyed the island's tropical resources (rubber, iron, copper) and naval potential at ports like Sanya (Samah). Prewar surveys by Japanese firms, such as those documented in Ide Kiwata's Minami Shina no Sangyō to Keizai (1939), highlighted mineral wealth and strategic harbors. The fall of Guangzhou in October 1938 provided the perfect launchpad, but direct invasion was delayed until early 1939 amid debates between the IJA (favoring mainland advances) and IJN (prioritizing naval encirclement). The operation would also heavily align with broader "southward advance" (Nanshin-ron) doctrine foreshadowing invasions of French Indochina (1940) and the Pacific War. On the Chinese side, Hainan was lightly defended as part of Guangdong's "peace preservation" under General Yu Hanmou. Two security regiments, six guard battalions, and a self-defense corps, totaling around 7,000–10,000 poorly equipped troops guarded the island, supplemented by roughly 300 Communist guerrillas under Feng Baiju, who operated independently in the interior. The indigenous Li (Hlai) people in the mountainous south, alienated by Nationalist taxes, provided uneven support but later allied with Communists. The Imperial General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army, in cooperation with the Navy, to occupy and hold strategic points on the island near Haikou-Shih. The 21st Army commander assigned the Formosa Mixed Brigade to carry out this mission. Planning began in late 1938 under the IJN's Fifth Fleet, with IJA support from the 21st Army. The objective: secure northern and southern landing sites to bisect the island, establish air/naval bases, and exploit resources. Vice Admiral Nobutake Kondō, commanding the fleet, emphasized surprise and air superiority. The invasion began under the cover of darkness on February 9, 1939, when Kondō's convoy entered Tsinghai Bay on the northern shore of Hainan and anchored at midnight. Japanese troops swiftly disembarked, encountering minimal initial resistance from the surprised Chinese defenders, and secured a beachhead in the northern zone. At 0300 hours on 10 February, the Formosa Mixed Brigade, operating in close cooperation with naval units, executed a surprise landing at the northeastern point of Tengmai Bay in north Hainan. By 04:30, the right flank reached the main road leading to Fengyingshih, while the left flank reached a position two kilometers south of Tienwei. By 07:00, the right flank unit had overcome light enemy resistance near Yehli and occupied Chiungshan. At that moment there were approximately 1,000 elements of the enemy's 5th Infantry Brigade (militia) at Chiungshan; about half of these troops were destroyed, and the remainder fled into the hills south of Tengmai in a state of disarray. Around 08:30 that same day, the left flank unit advanced to the vicinity of Shuchang and seized Hsiuying Heights. By 12:00, it occupied Haikou, the island's northern port city and administrative center, beginning around noon. Army and navy forces coordinated to mop up remaining pockets of resistance in the northern areas, overwhelming the scattered Chinese security units through superior firepower and organization. No large-scale battles are recorded in primary accounts; instead, the engagements were characterized by rapid advances and localized skirmishes, as the Chinese forces, lacking heavy artillery or air support, could not mount a sustained defense. By the end of the day, Japanese control over the north was consolidating, with Haikou falling under their occupation.Also on 10 February, the Brigade pushed forward to seize Cingang. Wenchang would be taken on the 22nd, followed by Chinglan Port on the 23rd. On February 11, the operation expanded southward when land combat units amphibiously assaulted Samah (now Sanya) at the island's southern tip. This landing allowed them to quickly seize key positions, including the port of Yulin (Yulinkang) and the town of Yai-Hsien (Yaxian, now part of Sanya). With these southern footholds secured, Japanese forces fanned out to subjugate the rest of the island, capturing inland areas and infrastructure with little organized opposition. Meanwhile, the landing party of the South China Navy Expeditionary Force, which had joined with the Army to secure Haikou, began landing on the island's southern shore at dawn on 14 February. They operated under the protection of naval and air units. By the same morning, the landing force had advanced to Sa-Riya and, by 12:00 hours, had captured Yulin Port. Chinese casualties were significant in the brief fighting; from January to May 1939, reports indicate the 11th security regiment alone suffered 8 officers and 162 soldiers killed, 3 officers and 16 wounded, and 5 officers and 68 missing, though figures for other units are unclear. Japanese losses were not publicly detailed but appear to have been light.  When crisis pressed upon them, Nationalist forces withdrew from coastal Haikou, shepherding the last civilians toward the sheltering embrace of the Wuzhi mountain range that bands the central spine of Hainan. From that high ground they sought to endure the storm, praying that the rugged hills might shield their families from the reach of war. Yet the Li country's mountains did not deliver a sanctuary free of conflict. Later in August of 1943, an uprising erupted among the Li,Wang Guoxing, a figure of local authority and stubborn resolve. His rebellion was swiftly crushed; in reprisal, the Nationalists executed a seizure of vengeance that extended far beyond the moment of defeat, claiming seven thousand members of Wang Guoxing's kin in his village. The episode was grim testimony to the brutal calculus of war, where retaliation and fear indelibly etched the landscape of family histories. Against this backdrop, the Communists under Feng Baiju and the native Li communities forged a vigorous guerrilla war against the occupiers. The struggle was not confined to partisan skirmishes alone; it unfolded as a broader contest of survival and resistance. The Japanese response was relentless and punitive, and it fell upon Li communities in western Hainan with particular ferocity, Sanya and Danzhou bore the brunt of violence, as did the many foreign laborers conscripted into service by the occupying power. The toll of these reprisals was stark: among hundreds of thousands of slave laborers pressed into service, tens of thousands perished. Of the 100,000 laborers drawn from Hong Kong, only about 20,000 survived the war's trials, a haunting reminder of the human cost embedded in the occupation. Strategically, the island of Hainan took on a new if coercive purpose. Portions of the island were designated as a naval administrative district, with the Hainan Guard District Headquarters established at Samah, signaling its role as a forward air base and as an operational flank for broader anti-Chiang Kai-shek efforts. In parallel, the island's rich iron and copper resources were exploited to sustain the war economy of the occupiers. The control of certain areas on Hainan provided a base of operations for incursions into Guangdong and French Indochina, while the airbases that dotted the island enabled long-range air raids that threaded routes from French Indochina and Burma into the heart of China. The island thus assumed a grim dual character: a frontier fortress for the occupiers and a ground for the prolonged suffering of its inhabitants. Hainan then served as a launchpad for later incursions into Guangdong and Indochina. Meanwhile after Wuhan's collapse, the Nationalist government's frontline strength remained formidable, even as attrition gnawed at its edges. By the winter of 1938–1939, the front line had swelled to 261 divisions of infantry and cavalry, complemented by 50 independent brigades. Yet the political and military fissures within the Kuomintang suggested fragility beneath the apparent depth of manpower. The most conspicuous rupture came with Wang Jingwei's defection, the vice president and chairman of the National Political Council, who fled to Hanoi on December 18, 1938, leading a procession of more than ten other KMT officials, including Chen Gongbo, Zhou Fohai, Chu Minqi, and Zeng Zhongming. In the harsh arithmetic of war, defections could not erase the country's common resolve to resist Japanese aggression, and the anti-Japanese national united front still served as a powerful instrument, rallying the Chinese populace to "face the national crisis together." Amid this political drama, Japan's strategy moved into a phase that sought to convert battlefield endurance into political consolidation. As early as January 11, 1938, Tokyo had convened an Imperial Conference and issued a framework for handling the China Incident that would shape the theater for years. The "Outline of Army Operations Guidance" and "Continental Order No. 241" designated the occupied territories as strategic assets to be held with minimal expansion beyond essential needs. The instruction mapped an operational zone that compressed action to a corridor between Anqing, Xinyang, Yuezhou, and Nanchang, while the broader line of occupation east of a line tracing West Sunit, Baotou, and the major river basins would be treated as pacified space. This was a doctrine of attrition, patience, and selective pressure—enough to hold ground, deny resources to the Chinese, and await a more opportune political rupture. Yet even as Japan sought political attrition, the war's tactical center of gravity drifted toward consolidation around Wuhan and the pathways that fed the Yangtze. In October 1938, after reducing Wuhan to a fortressed crescent of contested ground, the Japanese General Headquarters acknowledged the imperative to adapt to a protracted war. The new calculus prioritized political strategy alongside military operations: "We should attach importance to the offensive of political strategy, cultivate and strengthen the new regime, and make the National Government decline, which will be effective." If the National Government trembled under coercive pressure, it risked collapse, and if not immediately, then gradually through a staged series of operations. In practice, this meant reinforcing a centralized center while allowing peripheral fronts to be leveraged against Chongqing's grip on the war's moral economy. In the immediate post-Wuhan period, Japan divided its responsibilities and aimed at a standoff that would enable future offensives. The 11th Army Group, stationed in the Wuhan theater, became the spearhead of field attacks on China's interior, occupying a strategic triangle that included Hunan, Jiangxi, and Guangxi, and protecting the rear of southwest China's line of defense. The central objective was not merely to seize territory, but to deny Chinese forces the capacity to maneuver along the critical rail and river corridors that fed the Nanjing–Jiujiang line and the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway. Central to this plan was Wuhan's security and the ability to constrain Jiujiang's access to the Yangtze, preserving a corridor for air power and logistics. The pre-war arrangement in early 1939 was a tableau of layered defenses and multiple war zones, designed to anticipate and blunt Japanese maneuver. By February 1939, the Ninth War Zone under Xue Yue stood in a tense standoff with the Japanese 11th Army along the Jiangxi and Hubei front south of the Yangtze. The Ninth War Zone's order of battle, Luo Zhuoying's 19th Army Group defending the northern Nanchang front, Wang Lingji's 30th Army Group near Wuning, Fan Songfu's 8th and 73rd Armies along Henglu, Tang Enbo's 31st Army Group guarding southern Hubei and northern Hunan, and Lu Han's 1st Army Group in reserve near Changsha and Liuyang, was a carefully calibrated attempt to absorb, delay, and disrupt any Xiushui major Japanese thrust toward Nanchang, a city whose strategic significance stretched beyond its own bounds. In the spring of 1939, Nanchang was the one city in southern China that Tokyo could not leave in Chinese hands. It was not simply another provincial capital; it was the beating heart of whatever remained of China's war effort south of the Yangtze, and the Japanese knew it. High above the Gan River, on the flat plains west of Poyang Lake, lay three of the finest airfields China had ever built: Qingyunpu, Daxiaochang, and Xiangtang. Constructed only a few years earlier with Soviet engineers and American loans, they were long, hard-surfaced, and ringed with hangars and fuel dumps. Here the Chinese Air Force had pulled back after the fall of Wuhan, and here the red-starred fighters and bombers of the Soviet volunteer groups still flew. From Nanchang's runways a determined pilot could reach Japanese-held Wuhan in twenty minutes, Guangzhou in less than an hour, and even strike the docks at Hong Kong if he pushed his range. Every week Japanese reconnaissance planes returned with photographs of fresh craters patched, new aircraft parked wing-to-wing, and Soviet pilots sunning themselves beside their I-16s. As long as those fields remained Chinese, Japan could never claim the sky. The city was more than airfields. It sat exactly where the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway met the line running north to Jiujiang and the Yangtze, a knot that tied together three provinces. Barges crowded Poyang Lake's western shore, unloading crates of Soviet ammunition and aviation fuel that had come up the river from the Indochina railway. Warehouses along the tracks bulged with shells and rice. To the Japanese staff officers plotting in Wuhan and Guangzhou, Nanchang looked less like a city and more like a loaded spring: if Chiang Kai-shek ever found the strength for a counteroffensive to retake the middle Yangtze, this would be the place from which it would leap. And so, in the cold March of 1939, the Imperial General Headquarters marked Nanchang in red on every map and gave General Okamura the order he had been waiting for: take it, whatever the cost. Capturing the city would do three things at once. It would blind the Chinese Air Force in the south by seizing or destroying the only bases from which it could still seriously operate. It would tear a hole in the last east–west rail line still feeding Free China. And it would shove the Nationalist armies another two hundred kilometers farther into the interior, buying Japan precious time to digest its earlier conquests and tighten the blockade. Above all, Nanchang was the final piece in a great aerial ring Japan was closing around southern China. Hainan had fallen in February, giving the navy its southern airfields. Wuhan and Guangzhou already belonged to the army. Once Nanchang was taken, Japanese aircraft would sit on a continuous arc of bases from the tropical beaches of the South China Sea to the banks of the Yangtze, and nothing (neither the Burma Road convoys nor the French railway from Hanoi) would move without their permission. Chiang Kai-shek's decision to strike first in the Nanchang region in March 1939 reflected both urgency and a desire to seize initiative before Japanese modernization of the battlefield could fully consolidate. On March 8, Chiang directed Xue Yue to prepare a preemptive attack intended to seize the offensive by March 15, focusing the Ninth War Zone's efforts on preventing a river-crossing assault and pinning Japanese forces in place. The plan called for a sequence of coordinated actions: the 19th Army Group to hold the northern front of Nanchang; the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi Border Advance Army (the 8th and 73rd Armies) to strike the enemy's left flank from Wuning toward De'an and Ruichang; the 30th and 27th Army Groups to consolidate near Wuning; and the 1st Army Group to push toward Xiushui and Sandu, opening routes for subsequent operations. Yet even as Xue Yue pressed for action, the weather of logistics and training reminded observers that no victory could be taken for granted. By March 9–10, Xue Yue warned Chiang that troops were not adequately trained, supplies were scarce, and preparations were insufficient, requesting a postponement to March 24. Chiang's reply was resolute: the attack must commence no later than the 24th, for the aim was preemption and the desire to tether the enemy's forces before they could consolidate. When the moment of decision arrived, the Chinese army began to tense, and the Japanese, no strangers to rapid shifts in tempo—moved to exploit any hesitation or fog of mobilization. The Ninth War Zone's response crystallized into a defensive posture as the Japanese pressed forward, marking a transition from preemption to standoff as both sides tested the limits of resilience. The Japanese plan for what would become known as Operation Ren, aimed at severing the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway, breaking the enemy's line of communication, and isolating Nanchang, reflected a calculated synthesis of air power, armored mobility, and canalized ground offensives. On February 6, 1939, the Central China Expeditionary Army issued a set of precise directives: capture Nanchang to cut the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway and disrupt the southern reach of Anhui and Zhejiang provinces; seize Nanchang along the Nanchang–Xunyi axis to split enemy lines and "crush" Chinese resistance south of that zone; secure rear lines immediately after the city's fall; coordinate with naval air support to threaten Chinese logistics and airfields beyond the rear lines. The plan anticipated contingencies by pre-positioning heavy artillery and tanks in formations that could strike with speed and depth, a tactical evolution from previous frontal assaults. Okamura Yasuji, commander of the 11th Army, undertook a comprehensive program of reconnaissance, refining the assault plan with a renewed emphasis on speed and surprise. Aerial reconnaissance underlined the terrain, fortifications, and the disposition of Chinese forces, informing the selection of the Xiushui River crossing and the route of the main axis of attack. Okamura's decision to reorganize artillery and armor into concentrated tank groups, flanked by air support and advanced by long-range maneuver, marked a departure from the earlier method of distributing heavy weapons along the infantry front. Sumita Laishiro commanded the 6th Field Heavy Artillery Brigade, with more than 300 artillery pieces, while Hirokichi Ishii directed a force of 135 tanks and armored vehicles. This blended arms approach promised a breakthrough that would outpace the Chinese defenders and open routes for the main force. By mid-February 1939, Japanese preparations had taken on a high tempo. The 101st and 106th Divisions, along with attached artillery, assembled south of De'an, while tank contingents gathered north of De'an. The 6th Division began moving toward Ruoxi and Wuning, the Inoue Detachment took aim at the waterways of Poyang Lake, and the 16th and 9th Divisions conducted feints on the Han River's left bank. The orchestration of these movements—feints, riverine actions, and armored flanking, was designed to reduce the Chinese capacity to concentrate forces around Nanchang and to force the defenders into a less secure posture along the Nanchang–Jiujiang axis. Japan's southward strategy reframed the war: no longer a sprint to reduce Chinese forces in open fields, but a patient siege of lifelines, railways, and airbases. Hainan's seizure, the control of Nanchang's airfields, and the disruption of the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway exemplified a shift from large-scale battles to coercive pressure that sought to cripple Nationalist mobilization and erode Chongqing's capacity to sustain resistance. For China, the spring of 1939 underscored resilience amid mounting attrition. Chiang Kai-shek's insistence on offensive means to seize the initiative demonstrated strategic audacity, even as shortages and uneven training slowed tempo. The Ninth War Zone's defense, bolstered by makeshift airpower from Soviet and Allied lendings, kept open critical corridors and delayed Japan's consolidation. The war's human cost—massive casualties, forced labor, and the Li uprising on Hainan—illuminates the brutality that fueled both sides' resolve. In retrospect, the period around Canton, Wuhan, and Nanchang crystallizes a grim truth: the Sino-Japanese war was less a single crescendo of battles than a protracted contest of endurance, logistics, and political stamina. The early 1940s would widen these fault lines, but the groundwork laid in 1939, competition over supply routes, air control, and strategic rail nodes, would shape the war's pace and, ultimately, its outcome. The conflict's memory lies not only in the clashes' flash but in the stubborn persistence of a nation fighting to outlast a formidable adversary. 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 Japanese invasion of Hainan and proceeding operations to stop logistical leaks into Nationalist China, showcased the complexity and scale of the growing Second Sino-Japanese War. It would not merely be a war of territorial conquest, Japan would have to strangle the colossus using every means necessary.  

Last time we spoke about the climax of the battle of Changkufeng. A 7–10 August clash near Changkufeng and Hill 52 saw a brutal, multi-front Soviet push against Japanese positions in the Changkufeng–Hill 52 complex and adjacent areas. The Korea Army and Imperial forces rapidly reinforced with artillery, long-range 15 cm and other pieces, to relieve pressure. By 7–8 August, Soviet assault waves, supported by tanks and aircraft, intensified but Japanese defenses, including engineers, machine-gun fire, and concentrated artillery, prevented a decisive breakthrough at key positions like Noguchi Hill and the Changkufeng spine.  By 9–10 August, continued Japanese counterfire, improved artillery neutralization, and renewed defenses kept Hill 52 and Changkufeng in Japanese control, though at heavy cost. The frontline exhaustion and looming strategic concerns prompted calls for intensified replacements and potential diplomatic considerations. It seemed like the battle was coming to an end.   #184 The Lake Khasan Truce 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. The casualties were atrocious for both sides, yet they continued to mobilize more forces to the conflict area. While the Russians appeared uninterested in all-out war, they were not rushing to settle the crisis through diplomacy and, at the front, were launching "reckless" counterattacks at inconvenient locations, presumably to occupy positions useful for bargaining. The local Soviet military, having ceded the hills at the outset, must also have been anxious about its prestige. The Kwantung Army's potential threat to the flank undoubtedly made the Russians nervous. Although the leading echelon of the 104th Division did not reach Hunchun until the evening of 13 August, Japanese intelligence heard that the Red Army Headquarters staff at Khabarovsk had detected movements of Kwantung Army elements around 10 August and had been compelled to take countermeasures: they reinforced positions along the eastern and northern Manchurian frontiers, concentrated the air force, ordered move-up preparations by ground forces in the Blagoveshchensk district, and commandeered most of the motor vehicles in the Amur Province. By shifting its main strength to the eastern front, the Kwantung Army exerted, as intended, a silent pressure. The covert objective was to restrain and divert the Russians and to assist Japanese diplomacy, not to provoke war. Nevertheless, an American correspondent who visited the Changkufeng area in mid-August privately reported that the Kwantung Army was massing large numbers of troops near the border and expected further trouble.  Toward its weak neighbor in Korea the Kwantung Army rendered every support. Apart from its major demonstration in eastern Manchuria, the Kwantung Army promptly sent whatever reinforcements of artillery, engineers, and other units that Seoul had desired. Being also intimately involved in anti-Soviet military preparations, the Kwantung Army understandably wanted the latest and most authentic information on Russian Army theory and practice. The Changkufeng Incident furnished such a firsthand opportunity, and the professional observers sent from Hsinking were well received at the front. Military classmate ties contributed to the working relationships between the armies. As one division officer put it, the teams from the Kwantung Army came as "friends," not only to study the battlefield by their respective branches of service but also to assist the front-line forces; "the Kwantung Army was increasingly helpful to us in settling the incident." Foreign Minister Ugaki felt that the pressure of troop movements in Manchuria played a major part in the Russians' eventual decision to conclude a cease-fire. From Inada's viewpoint, it had been a "fine and useful demonstration against the Soviet Union." Pinned at Changkufeng, the Russians did not or could not choose to react elsewhere, too. Army General Staff officers believed that clear and consistent operational guidance furnished by Tokyo produced good results, although the fighting had been very hard for the front-line Japanese troops because of the insistence on exclusive defense, the curbs on interference by the Kwantung Army, and the prohibition on the use of aircraft. It had been close, however. Only by conscious efforts at restraint had the small war at Changkufeng been kept from spilling over into neighboring areas. Escalation of combat in early August had caused the Japanese government to try to break the diplomatic impasse while localizing the conflict. On 2 August Premier Konoe assured the Emperor that he intended to leave matters for diplomacy and to suspend military operations as soon as possible, an approach with which the government concurred. The Changkufeng dispute had been accorded priority, preceding overall settlements and the creation of joint commissions to redefine the borders. On the 3rd, after coordinating with the military, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs advised Shigemitsu that the front-line situation had become "extremely critical" and that a quick suspension of fighting action should be proposed. Soviet and Japanese troops should be pulled back to the setup as of 30 July.  In the midst of the Changkufeng Incident, the USSR intensified harassing tactics against the last Japanese consulates located within the Soviet Union. Forty-eight hour ultimatums to quit the country were delivered to the consuls at Khabarovsk and Blagoveshchensk on 3 and 4 August, respectively. Although the Japanese government warned that it might retaliate, the Russians were unyielding. The foreign ambassadors, Mamoru Shigemitsu and Maxim Litvinov met on August 4th, whereupon Shigemitsu argued, the best procedure would be to suspend military operations on both sides and to restore the status quo. Litvinov in a long manner explained the stance of the USSR as Shigemitsu put it "the Soviet side had a disposition to cease fighting, provided that conditions were satisfactory."  The Russians were stalling at the very time the Red Army was bending every effort to retake Changkufeng. Coordination between the Army, Navy, and Foreign Ministers produced cease-fire conditions which were rushed to the Japanese ambassador on 6 August. Two alternate lines were proposed, to which both armies would pull back. After the creation of a buffer zone, discussions could begin concerning delineation of boundaries in the region of the incident. The Hunchun pact could be the basis for deliberations, demarcation to be effected by joint investigations on the spot in consultation with documents in the possession of Manchukuo and the USSR; the Japanese would serve only as observers. Shigemitsu conferred once more with Litvinov for three and a half hours on 7 August, but no progress was made. Litvinov insisted that a clash could be averted only if Japanese forces pulled However Litvinov's positive reaction to the idea of a demarcation commission was seen as a good sign.  On August the 10th, both sides seemed to have reached a similar conclusion that a cease-fire needed to rapidly be implemented. At 11pm that night Litvinov called the embassy, asking for Shigemitus to see him as fast as possible. Shigemitsu arrived around midnight whereupon Litvinov showed him a draft of a final accord: 1. Japanese and Soviet forces shall cease all military activities on 11 August at noon local time. Instructions to that effect are to be issued immediately by the governments of the USSR and Japan.  2. Japanese as well as Soviet troops shall remain on those lines which they occupied at midnight local time on 10 August.  3. For redemarcation of the portion of frontier in dispute, there shall be created a mixed commission of two representatives from the USSR and two representatives from the Japanese-Manchurian side, with an umpire selected by agreement of both parties from among citizens of a third state.  4. The commission for redemarcation shall work on the basis of agreements and maps bearing the signatures of plenipotentiary representatives of Russia and China. Shigemitsu agreed to the inclusion of a Japanese commissioner on the Manchukuoan delegation, but he could not assent to the addition of a neutral umpire. Moscow received the news of the truce with gratification mingled with surprise. Few realized that the USSR had taken the step of appeasing or at least saving face for the Japanese even after Shigemitsu had pleaded for and won a cease-fire. The world was told by the Russians only that specific overtures for cessation of hostilities had originated with the Soviet authorities. In general, it was not difficult to guess why the Russian government, distracted by the European political scene and apprehensive about a two-front war, agreed to a cease-fire at Changkufeng.  The slowness of communication across the many miles between Moscow and Tokyo did nothing to alleviate nervousness in the Japanese capital during the night of 10–11 August. Ugaki wrote in his diary that, "after ten days of tension, the struggle between the Japanese and Soviet armies on the USSR–Manchukuo border had reached the decisive brink". Complicating the situation was the fact that, late on 10 August, the president of Domei News Agency conveyed to Konoe a message from one of his Moscow correspondents. Purporting to sum up Shigemitsu's latest outlook, the report stated that success in the negotiations seemed unlikely. The contents of the message were transmitted to Ugaki and Itagaki. Consequently, Konoe and his associates spent a fearful and depressed night. Shigemitsu's own report, sent by telegram, arrived frustratingly slowly.  After definite information had been received from Shigemitsu, Harada happily called Kazami Akira, the prime minister's chief secretary, and Konoe himself. "Until the accord was implemented," Kazami had said, "we would have to be on the alert all day today." Konoe and Kazami seemed "a little relaxed anyhow." Inada had finally retired past midnight on 10–11 August, "agreement or no agreement. I must have been dozing from fatigue when the jangle of the phone got me up. It was a message saying that a truce had been concluded the preceding midnight. Just as I had been expecting, I said to myself, but I felt empty inside, as if it were an anticlimax." The call had to have been an unofficial communication, perhaps the latest Domei news, since the records showed that definitive word from the embassy in Moscow did not reach Tokyo until after 10:00. Attache Doi's report to the Army General Staff came at about 11:00. This was extremely late in terms of getting Japanese troops to cease operations at 13:00 Tokyo time (or noon on the spot); a tardy imperial order might undo the Moscow accord. Complicating this matter of split-second timing was the fact that the first official telegram from Shigemitsu referred to unilateral Japanese withdrawal by one kilometer. At the Japanese high command level, there was agitated discussion when initial word of these arrangements arrived. Inada speculated that on 10 August the Russians had staged persistent close-quarter assaults against Changkufeng and seized the southern edge eventually, although repulsed at all other points. Moscow may have agreed to a truce at that midnight because they expected that the crest of Changkufeng would be in their hands by then and that a fait accompli would have been achieved. Some officers argued that the Russian forces were suffering "quite badly and this caused the authorities' agreeability to a cease-fire." Most exasperating, however, was the provision stipulating a one-sided military withdrawal. Admittedly, such action had been under discussion by the Army General Staff itself, particularly after Terada's sobering appeal of 10 August. It was another matter to have a Japanese withdrawal dictated by the USSR while Russian troops did not have to budge. Initial puzzlement and chagrin began to yield to rationalization. The Japanese side seemed to have made a concession in the negotiations, but there must have been significance to the phrase which said, "the line occupied by Japanese forces has been taken into due consideration." Japanese troops had presumably advanced to the edge of the frontier, while Russian soldiers had not come even close. Thus, it must have been necessary to have the Japanese units withdraw first, to fix the boundaries, since it had been the Japanese who had done the greater advancing. One Japanese office remarked "A pull-back was a pull-back, no matter how you looked at things—and we were the ones who had to do it. But the atmosphere in the command had been far from optimistic on 10 August; so we decided that it was unnecessary to complain about this issue and we approved the agreement in general. Both the senior and junior staff levels seemed to be quite relieved." The 11th of August had been an awkward day to conduct liaison between the Foreign Ministry, the Army, and the Throne, since the Emperor was leaving Hayama to visit naval installations in the Yokosuka area and the navy air unit in Chiba from morning. By the time a conclusive report on the cease-fire could be conveyed to the monarch, he was aboard the destroyer Natsugumo at Kisarazu. Naval wireless facilities in Tokyo had to be used to transmit coded messages to Admiral Yonai, the Navy Minister, for delivery to the Emperor. This was done shortly before 14:45 According to Yonai, the Emperor "was very pleased and relieved when I reported to him… about the conclusion of the truce accord." The appropriate Imperial order was approved promptly. But not until 15:00, two hours after cease-fire time at Changkufeng, did word of Imperial sanction reach the high command.  Japanese soldiers in the lines recalled nothing special on 11 August. "We didn't hear about the truce till the last minute," said one, "and we had become so inured to enemy artillery we hardly noticed any 'last salute.' From Tokyo, on 11 August, it was reported that the Japanese side had suspended operations promptly at noon, as agreed, but that sporadic bursts of fire had continued to come from the Soviet side. Colonel Grebennik, when asked after the war whether the combat did end at noon, replied petulantly: "Yes, but not quite so. The fighting actually ceased at 12:05." According to him, the tardiness was the Japanese side's fault.  The Japanese press told readers that "the cease-fire bugle has sounded—the frontier is cheerful now, 14 days after the shooting began." All was quiet in the area of Changkufeng, where the sounds of firing ceased at noon "as if erased." The most intense period of stillness lasted only a few minutes and was followed by the excited chattering of soldiers, audible on both sides. Korea Army Headquarters spoke of the "lifting of dark clouds [and] return of the rays of peace." In Hongui, a Japanese combat officer told a Japanese correspondent: "Suddenly we noticed the insects making noise; the soldiers were delighted. Once the fighting stopped, Japanese national flags were hoisted here and there along our front. … After the Russians observed what we had done, they broke out red flags also, at various points in their trenches." Some Japanese soldiers were given cookies by Soviet medical corpsmen. At Hill 52, an infantryman remembered, the Japanese and the Russians were facing each other, 50 meters apart, that afternoon. "We just lay there and stared at each other for two hours, waiting grimly. But it was well past cease-fire now, and those same Russians finally started to wave at us. Later that day, when Soviet troops came to salvage their KO'd tanks, we 'chatted' in sign language." After the cease-fire, Ichimoto, whose battalion had seen the most difficult fighting, stuck his head above the trench and waved hello to some Soviet officers. "They waved back. It gave me an odd sensation, for during the furious struggle I had considered them to be barbarians. Now I was surprised to see that they were civilized after all!" A rifleman at Changkufeng remembered swapping watches with an unarmed Russian across the peak. The Japanese front-line troops stayed in their positions confronting the Russians and conducted preparations for further combat while cleaning up the battlefield. Soviet troops also remained deployed as of the time of the cease-fire and vigorously carried out their own construction. The day after the cease-fire went into effect, Suetaka escorted an American reporter to the front. At Changkufeng:  "carpenters were making wooden receptacles for the ashes of the Japanese dead. Funeral pyres still were smoldering. . . . From our vantage point the lieutenant general pointed out long lines of Soviet trucks coming up in clouds of dust [which] apparently were made deliberately in an effort to conceal the trucks' movements, [probably designed] to haul supplies from the front. Soviet boats were pushing across [Khasan] . . . and Soviet soldiers were towing smashed tanks back from no-man'sland. On the Japanese side there was a pronounced holiday spirit. Soldiers, emerging from dugouts, were drying white undershirts on near-by brush and bathing in the Tumen River. The soldiers were laughing heartily. A few were trying to ride a Korean donkey near Changkufeng's scarred slope. The general pointed out three Soviet tanks behind the Japanese advance lines east of Changkufeng. He said the Russians had hauled back seventy others [on the night of 11 August]. . . . The writer was shown a barbed wire fence immediately behind a wrecked village on the west slope of Changkufeng which the general said the Soviet troops built at the beginning of the fighting. Possiet Bay also was pointed out, clearly visible across the swamp." Soviet losses for what became known as the battle of Lake Khasan for the Russians and the Changkufeng incident for the Japanese, totaled 792 killed or missing and 3,279 wounded or sick, according to Soviet records. The Japanese claimed to have destroyed or immobilized 96 enemy tanks and 30 guns. Soviet armored losses were significant, with dozens of tanks knocked out or destroyed and hundreds of "tank troops" becoming casualties. Japanese casualties, as revealed by secret Army General Staff statistics, were 1,439 casualties, 526 killed or missing, 913 wounded; the Soviets claimed Japanese losses of 3,100, with 600 killed and 2,500 wounded. The Soviets concluded that these losses were due in part to poor communications infrastructure and roads, as well as the loss of unit coherence caused by weak organization, headquarters, commanders, and a lack of combat-support units. The faults in the Soviet army and leadership at Khasan were blamed on the incompetence of Blyukher. In addition to leading the troops into action at Khasan, Blyukher was also supposed to oversee the trans-Baikal Military District's and the Far Eastern fronts' move to combat readiness, using an administrative apparatus that delivered army group, army, and corps-level instructions to the 40th Rifle Division by accident. On 22 October, he was arrested by the NKVD and is thought to have been tortured to death. At 15:35 on 11 August, in the Hill 52 sector, high-ranking military delegates bearing a white flag emerged from the Soviet lines and proceeded to Akahage Hill, about 100 meters from the Japanese positions. Cho, as right sector chief, was notified. He sent three lieutenants to converse with the Russians; they learned that the Soviets wanted the Japanese to designate a time and place for a conference. This word was conveyed to Suetaka, who had already dispatched Lieutenant Kozuki to the heights east of Shachaofeng to contact the Russians. Around 4:20, the commander canceled Kozuki's mission and instructed Cho to reply that the delegation ought to convene near the peak of Changkufeng at 18:00 Cho set out promptly with several subordinates; they reached the Changkufeng crest a little before 6. The Russians then said they wanted to meet the Japanese near the Crestline southeast of Changkufeng, the excuse being that the peak was too far for them to go and that they could not arrive by the designated time. Cho took his team to the location requested by the Russians. There, the Japanese found 13 Soviet soldiers and a heavy machine gun on guard, but the Russian delegates had not arrived, although it was 6:18. The irked Japanese clocked a further delay of two minutes before the Russian truce chief, Gen. Grigory M. Shtern, rode up on horseback with a party of eight. Both delegations saluted, the chiefs and team members identified themselves, and all shook hands. The Soviet team was made up of Corps General 3rd rank Shtern, 38, chief of staff, Far East area army; Brigade Commissar Semenovsky political major general, 37 or 38; Colonel Fedotev, 42; and Major Wabilev, about 30. Interpreting for the Russians was Alexei Kim. In Colonel Cho's opinion, "It was always necessary to take the initiative in dealing with the Soviets. So, even in such matters as shaking hands or conversing, he always did things first." During the exchange of greetings, Cho teased Shtern about his bandaged forehead. "A Japanese artillery shell got you, didn't it?" he asked. But Cho began formal discussions on a more dignified note: "Cho: It is very much to be regretted that the Japanese and Soviet armies had to get involved in combat around Changkufeng. Nevertheless, I laud the consummation of the Mos­cow accord on the part of both governments. And, I must say, your forces were quite brave and patriotic. Shtern: I agree with you. The Japanese Army, too, was courageous and strong." Negotiations would go on at the local level and diplomatic level for many days. In Tokyo, on the morning of 13 August, Ugaki had gone to the Meiji shrine to "report" on the cease-fire and to express his gratitude. At 10:00, when received in Imperial audience, he discussed the Changkufeng Incident. "I humbly regret to have troubled Your Majesty so unduly in connection with an unimportant affair on the Soviet-Manchurian frontier" at a time when the monarch was confronted by grave national problems. A long and winding road lay ahead before the incident as a whole was settled, but a good start had been made and "we are going to be even more careful in handling matters, although the Soviet regime  consists of devious, vicious scoundrels." Recognition of the Japanese Army's performance was accorded by the highest authorities in the homeland. As soon as the fighting ceased, Kan'in transmitted a message of appreciation. The day after the cease-fire, the command in North Korea issued a generous communique: "We pay homage to the Japanese for defending themselves against 100 planes, 200 tanks, and 60 pieces of heavy artillery. Our admiration for the bravery of both armies is of the highest." At 14:00 on the 15th, Kan'in was received in audience and reported on the settlement of the crisis. Said the Emperor: "We are gratified by the fact that, during this incident at Changkufeng, Our officers and men achieved their mission fully and manifested prudence and forbearance while confronting difficult circumstances with small forces. Our profound condolences to the casualties. Convey this message to the officers and men." A wire was dispatched promptly to Nakamura. With Imperial use of the wording "Changkufeng Incident," the nomenclature for the affair was fixed in Japan. When the cabinet met on 16 August, the decision was reached officially. After the Changkufeng affair, Japanese officers claimed that the Soviets had dispatched tactical experts "to ascertain why their elite Far Eastern forces had not been able to achieve satisfactory results. They realize the urgency of this investigation in preparation for any great war." Specifically, the AGS heard that on the day of the cease-fire, Blyukher had sent an investigative team of commissars under Romanovsky to the scene. Japanese experts on the USSR speculated that the experience at Changkufeng ought indeed to have impressed the Red Army: "Our forces did seize the hill and hold it. After comparing the strengths involved ... the Russians may well have had to modify their estimates." According to one Japanese commentator, improvements in political leadership were judged imperative by the USSR, gainsaying claims that the Soviet Army had been strengthened through the purge of alleged Japanese tools. Soviet authorities would conclude "As a test of doctrine, the fighting had confirmed the correctness of the basic principles embodied in the 1936 Field Service Regulations." The Soviet infantry had paid dearly for this, as well as for the deficiencies in tactical training. Defense Commissar Voroshilov admitted, "We were not sufficiently quick in our tactics, and particularly in joint operations in dealing the enemy a concentrated blow." In the view of historian Mackintosh: "The Soviet success at Lake Khasan was bought at the cost of heavy casualties and exposed serious defects in the mobilization machinery and the training of troops. There can be little doubt that these factors checked to some extent the Soviet Government's overoptimistic estimate of its own military strength and cast doubt on the effectiveness of its policy of expansion in all fields of military organization". Writing a year and a half after Changkufeng, an Mainichi reporter observed that the greatest harvest from the incident was tangible Japanese experience in determining the fighting strength of the Russians. Purchased with blood, this knowledge could provide valuable evidence for future combat operations. It was a question whether Changkufeng really possessed such strategic significance as was claimed for it, but the Soviet policy of bluff could be interpreted as substantiating the weakness of the defenses of Vladivostok. "The Russians used all kinds of new weapons at Changkufeng and tipped their whole hand. But although mechanization of the Red Army had attained high levels with respect to quantity, their weaknesses in technique and quality were laid bare." Imaoka observed that since the Changkufeng Incident marked the first time that the Japanese and Soviet armies engaged each other in combat involving large strategic elements, divisional and above, Russian fighting strength was studied with keen interest. The Japanese did not rate the capacity of the officers or Soviet quality, in general, as especially high. Still, the Russians did possess quantitative abundance, and Japanese losses had been heavy because the enemy had fired masses of ammunition against fixed targets. Suetaka seemed to have comprehended the scope of tangible Soviet strength in equipment and materiel, as shown by his comment: "I felt deeply that if the gap in manpower went beyond limits, it would be inevitable for our casualties to increase tremendously; this might even cause us danger in specific local areas." Few Japanese officers saw anything new in Soviet tactical methods, although considerations of mass were ever-present. Not only intelligence experts but the whole army worked on ways of coping with Soviet forces that would have the numerical advantage by 3:1. Most awesome was the "fantastic abundance" of hostile materiel, although the Russians could not deploy to surround the Japanese because of the geography. An AGS expert on the USSR summed it up: "We learned that Soviet strength was up to expectations, whereas Japanese arms and equipment had to be improved and reinforced." Worded in a multiplicity of ways, the Japanese conclusion was that patient imperial forces had won a great victory by defending the contested border with flesh vs. steel and by limiting the Changkufeng Incident, till the end, against enemy hordes supported exclusively by planes and tanks. Japanese infantrymen admit that the combat soldiers did not savor their disadvantages. "All our materiel was inferior in quality and particularly in quantity. We had the impression that whereas we relied on muscle power, the enemy used engines. This rendered our fighting particularly hard, but we had full confidence in our spiritual strength [i.e., superiority]."  Nevertheless, the Japanese mode of tactical operation, asserted Iwasaki, the Korea Army senior staff officer, was "the worst possible: fighting with hands tied." This meant that the Russians could fight "to their hearts' content," committing tanks and planes, and striking from all directions. A front-line infantry commander commented: "One's troops ought to be provided meaningful reasons for fighting and for dying happily. It is cruel to ask officers and men to meet masses of steel and to shed their blood without visible cause, and apparently because of inadequate combat preparations." The cease-fire agreement was concluded "at just the right time," General Morimoto admitted. A secret report prepared by AGS analysts sheds light on the larger question of what the army thought it had learned about itself and the Soviet enemy: "In studying Changkufeng, one ought to bear a number of cautions in mind: (1) The incident broke out when we were concentrating on the holy war against China; severe limitations on combat operations were imposed by the necessity to adhere to a policy of nonenlargement. (2) Apparently, the enemy also adopted a policy of localization while continuously attempting to recapture the high ground in the Changkufeng area. (3) Our forces employed units which were on Phase-1 alert from beginning to end; in terms of quality, the personnel were excellent—mainly active-duty types, from key men down. But our numbers were far inferior, and our organization and equipment were not of the best. In addition, we committed no planes or tanks, whereas the enemy used plenty. (4) The 19th Division was thorough, rigorous, and realistic in its combat training prior to the engagement. (5) Battlefield terrain seriously limited the enemy's attacks, especially tank action. But while the Tumen restricted assaults against our flanks and rear, it hampered our own services of supply, notably the provision of position construction materials." The Japanese learned few or erroneous lessons from the Changkufeng affair; the Kwantung Army, for example, was convinced that everything had been handled badly in 1938 by the Korea Army and the high command. When a dispute arose in 1939 at Nomonhan on another border lying between Outer Mongolia and Manchukuo, the staff in Hsinking fostered escalating measures. The USSR, however, learned in 1937 and 1938 that the Japanese Army seemed to respect only force.  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 Changkufeng incident or battle of Lake Khasan clash saw a fierce Soviet push against Japanese positions around Changkufeng and Hill 52. The cease-fire ended the incident, but not the conflict. Despite the brutal lessons learned by both sides, a much larger conflict would explode the next year that would alter both nations throughout WW2.   

Cooperative Evangelist: Kagawa Toyohiko and His World, 1888-1960 (University of Hawai'i Press, 2025) by Bo Tao uncovers the extraordinary world of a Japanese man who was once described as the “Saint Francis” or the “Gandhi” of Japan. A renowned religious figure on the world stage, Kagawa Toyohiko (1888–1960) received wide acclaim for his work as a street preacher in the slums of Kobe as well as his espousal of nonviolent methods of social reform. His reputation as a pacifist figure, however, rested uneasily with his wartime actions, which became increasingly supportive of the Japanese government and its expansionist policies. Reluctant to speak up against Japan's increasing aggression in the late 1930s, he emerged as a full-blown apologist during the Pacific War, appearing on several Radio Tokyo broadcasts as a propagandist defending the interests of the state. Adopting a transnational approach that accounts for the rapid flow of information between Japan and the United States, Bo Tao examines the career of Kagawa as it unfolded within the context of the wars, imperialism, and economic depression of the early to mid-twentieth century. Using official documents and personal correspondence that have received scant attention in previous works, Tao reveals, for the first time at this level of detail, the extent of Kagawa's cooperative relationship with the Japanese government, as well as the ways in which his idealized image was carefully constructed by his ardent missionary supporters. This book provides a window into the global dimensions of broader cultural shifts during the interwar period, such as the rise of Christian internationalism and the Depression-era popularity of cooperative economics. Offering a holistic and nuanced exploration of the tensions resulting from Kagawa's hybrid identity as a Japanese Christian, Cooperative Evangelist adds a new layer to our understanding of religion, empire, and politics in the shaping of social and international relations. Bo Tao is Lecturer in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Chiba University in Chiba, Japan. His research interests include global history, U.S.-Japan relations, religion and politics, modern Japanese history, and the history of Christianity. Shatrunjay Mall is a PhD Candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He works on transnational Asian history, and his dissertation explores intellectual, political, and cultural intersections and affinities that emerged between Indian anti-colonialism and imperial Japan in the twentieth century. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

Jenny Chan Reveals Forgotten Pacific War StoriesJenny Chan is the director of Pacific Atrocities Education (PAE), a San Francisco-based nonprofit she established in 2014 to raise awareness of World War II atrocities in the Asia-Pacific region, such as the Nanjing Massacre, Unit 731, and the "comfort women" system, through books, videos, and digitized archives that have engaged over 800,000 online visitors annually. Under her leadership, PAE's internship program—offering opportunities in research, community outreach, digital archiving, and oral history—has profoundly shaped participants' careers, with several former interns advancing to become professors and scholars.I'm a proud University of Illinois grad who now lives in the Bay Area, blending my tech-savvy surroundings with advocacy work. Third, outside of this, I'm passionate about storytelling in all forms, from podcasts like this to plays and even collaborating on YouTube series to make forgotten history more visible.Links:IG: pacificatrocitieseduYoutube: https://www.youtube.com/pacificfrontuntoldTags:Forgotten Pacific War Stories,Comfort Women,Oral History,Jenny Chan,Live Video Podcast Interview,Podcast,Podmatch,Phantom Electric Ghost PodcastSupport PEG by checking out our Sponsors:Download and use Newsly for free now from www.newsly.me or from the link in the description, and use promo code “GHOST” and receive a 1-month free premium subscription.The best tool for getting podcast guests:https://podmatch.com/signup/phantomelectricghostSubscribe to our Instagram for exclusive content:https://www.instagram.com/expansive_sound_experiments/Subscribe to our YouTube https://youtube.com/@phantomelectricghost?si=rEyT56WQvDsAoRprRSShttps://anchor.fm/s/3b31908/podcast/rssSubstackhttps://substack.com/@phantomelectricghost?utm_source=edit-profile-page

Cooperative Evangelist: Kagawa Toyohiko and His World, 1888-1960 (University of Hawai'i Press, 2025) by Bo Tao uncovers the extraordinary world of a Japanese man who was once described as the “Saint Francis” or the “Gandhi” of Japan. A renowned religious figure on the world stage, Kagawa Toyohiko (1888–1960) received wide acclaim for his work as a street preacher in the slums of Kobe as well as his espousal of nonviolent methods of social reform. His reputation as a pacifist figure, however, rested uneasily with his wartime actions, which became increasingly supportive of the Japanese government and its expansionist policies. Reluctant to speak up against Japan's increasing aggression in the late 1930s, he emerged as a full-blown apologist during the Pacific War, appearing on several Radio Tokyo broadcasts as a propagandist defending the interests of the state. Adopting a transnational approach that accounts for the rapid flow of information between Japan and the United States, Bo Tao examines the career of Kagawa as it unfolded within the context of the wars, imperialism, and economic depression of the early to mid-twentieth century. Using official documents and personal correspondence that have received scant attention in previous works, Tao reveals, for the first time at this level of detail, the extent of Kagawa's cooperative relationship with the Japanese government, as well as the ways in which his idealized image was carefully constructed by his ardent missionary supporters. This book provides a window into the global dimensions of broader cultural shifts during the interwar period, such as the rise of Christian internationalism and the Depression-era popularity of cooperative economics. Offering a holistic and nuanced exploration of the tensions resulting from Kagawa's hybrid identity as a Japanese Christian, Cooperative Evangelist adds a new layer to our understanding of religion, empire, and politics in the shaping of social and international relations. Bo Tao is Lecturer in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Chiba University in Chiba, Japan. His research interests include global history, U.S.-Japan relations, religion and politics, modern Japanese history, and the history of Christianity. Shatrunjay Mall is a PhD Candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He works on transnational Asian history, and his dissertation explores intellectual, political, and cultural intersections and affinities that emerged between Indian anti-colonialism and imperial Japan in the twentieth century. 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

In this episode, I spoke with Mark Stille, about his book "Pearl Harbor Japan's Greatest Disaster". In this the first comprehensive treatment of Pearl Harbor since the early 1990s, respected Pacific War naval historian Mark E. Stille traces the road to war and the Japanese attack itself. He examines the role of the man behind the operation, Japanese Admiral Yamamoto, as well as the strengths and weaknesses of the plan. The American preparations for an attack are also carefully reviewed. The heart of the book is a comprehensive narrative of Pearl Harbor along with an appreciation of its results placed in proper perspective.Erniepyle.org

Cooperative Evangelist: Kagawa Toyohiko and His World, 1888-1960 (University of Hawai'i Press, 2025) by Bo Tao uncovers the extraordinary world of a Japanese man who was once described as the “Saint Francis” or the “Gandhi” of Japan. A renowned religious figure on the world stage, Kagawa Toyohiko (1888–1960) received wide acclaim for his work as a street preacher in the slums of Kobe as well as his espousal of nonviolent methods of social reform. His reputation as a pacifist figure, however, rested uneasily with his wartime actions, which became increasingly supportive of the Japanese government and its expansionist policies. Reluctant to speak up against Japan's increasing aggression in the late 1930s, he emerged as a full-blown apologist during the Pacific War, appearing on several Radio Tokyo broadcasts as a propagandist defending the interests of the state. Adopting a transnational approach that accounts for the rapid flow of information between Japan and the United States, Bo Tao examines the career of Kagawa as it unfolded within the context of the wars, imperialism, and economic depression of the early to mid-twentieth century. Using official documents and personal correspondence that have received scant attention in previous works, Tao reveals, for the first time at this level of detail, the extent of Kagawa's cooperative relationship with the Japanese government, as well as the ways in which his idealized image was carefully constructed by his ardent missionary supporters. This book provides a window into the global dimensions of broader cultural shifts during the interwar period, such as the rise of Christian internationalism and the Depression-era popularity of cooperative economics. Offering a holistic and nuanced exploration of the tensions resulting from Kagawa's hybrid identity as a Japanese Christian, Cooperative Evangelist adds a new layer to our understanding of religion, empire, and politics in the shaping of social and international relations. Bo Tao is Lecturer in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Chiba University in Chiba, Japan. His research interests include global history, U.S.-Japan relations, religion and politics, modern Japanese history, and the history of Christianity. Shatrunjay Mall is a PhD Candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He works on transnational Asian history, and his dissertation explores intellectual, political, and cultural intersections and affinities that emerged between Indian anti-colonialism and imperial Japan in the twentieth century. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/biography

Last time we spoke about the second Russian Counter Offensive over the Heights. Night operations opened the action: scouts moved in darkness, wires were cut, and Hill 52 fell before dawn, followed by Shachaofeng as dawn pressed the front. The Russians responded with a heavy counterattack, tanks, aircraft, and sustained artillery, yet the Japanese adapted quickly, shifting guns and reinforcing sectors to hold the crest. By 3–5 August, Japanese and Soviet forces fought in a fragmented front across multiple sectors: Hill 52, Changkufeng, Shachaofeng, the lake. Japanese commanders coordinated between infantry, engineers, and mountain artillery, while seeking long-range support from Kwantung Army. Soviet artillery sought to disrupt lines of communication and press from the Crestline with massed tanks and air strikes. Despite intense bombardments and repeated tank assaults, Japanese regimental guns, antitank teams, and close-quarters defense bore the brunt of the defense, inflicting heavy Soviet losses. Yet in the end the Japanese had yet again repelled the enemy from the heights.   #183 The end was near for Changkufeng 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. While the front-line fighting raged on 6 August, Tokyo moved to supply the 19th Division with the coveted long-range artillery and antiaircraft support. In the evening, the Korea Army officially learned from the AGS that, by Imperial order, the Kwantung Army would add the strength already informally approved: four 7.5-centimeter field guns, two 15-centimeter cannons, two 10-centimeter railway guns, and two 7.5-centimeter antiaircraft guns. The North China Area Army would also provide mobile antiaircraft units. The Korea Army estimated that the field and heavy artillery reinforcements would reach the town of Tumen on 7–8 August. The new guns were expected to ease the division's pressure in due course. The fighting continued on the 7th. The 75th Infantry observed that, despite the Russians' vigorous attacks aimed at capturing Hill 52 and Changkufeng on 6 August, they failed at both objectives and were repelled with heavy losses. Because of the Soviets' ignominious defeat at Changkufeng, they seemed determined to seize Hill 52 on 7 August. Most of the shallow and isolated Japanese positions at Hill 52 had been shattered by bombardments. Some men retrieved Japanese corpses still piled atop one another; the wounded were to proceed to the rear by themselves. Many had not eaten since the morning of 6 August, yet morale remained high. It was decided to knock out the Soviets' advancing tanks under the cover of darkness, employing infantry and engineers. At 03:00, these elements moved against the armor 150 meters behind the Russian wire, killed some advancing infantry, and destroyed two tanks. The infantry platoon leader, Warrant Officer Kanaoka, jumped aboard a tank, pried open the turret, and fought with his blade as blood dripped from the blade. The eastern sky brightened as he stood there smiling and holding his bloodied sword; at that moment, Private First Class Kimura exploded a grenade inside the tank, which promptly blew up. The assault force returned safely at dawn. At dawn, from heavy-weapon positions 200–300 meters in front, the Soviets opened fire, exploiting gaps between the smashed armor. Since 04:00, sixty Russian tanks had been moving south on the far side of Khasan. By daybreak, more than ten machines could be seen in the dip northeast of Hill 52, with several dozen other tanks newly active along Hill 29 Crestline as infantry deployed in gullies. At 05:30, Russian artillery began firing from all directions. In addition to shelling from Gaho, Hill 29, and Maanshan, the Soviets directed flank fire against Hill 52, using two rapid-fire guns 700 meters northeast and three mountain guns on the slope of Changkufeng. As the works at Hill 52 were progressively pulverized, K. Sato dispatched reinforcements from the 76th Regiment there. Near 11:00, the Russian barrage intensified and became more accurate; positions were destroyed one by one, and casualties rose. A new apex of fury occurred between 13:30 and 14:30, when a pall of smoke blanketed the region, producing a ghastly impression. Russian planes bombed and strafed Hill 52 from 11:00; a raid by twelve bombers against the western slope at 13:30 was particularly fierce, though many bombs fell harmlessly into the Tumen. The Russian lines were built up gradually, and all types of Soviet weapons were employed. From 14:30, about 100 Russians approached, led by four tanks, and penetrated the defense positions. Close-quarter counterattacks were launched by elements of three Japanese infantry companies, a machine-gun platoon, and an engineer platoon. One officer recalled "It was tough and costly fighting. Men were overrun by tanks, some losing limbs." Nine engineers linked up with the infantry, placing explosives under tank turrets and blowing up two machines. During the crisis, with tanks and infantry overrunning his lines. From the right wing, in the Eleventh Company sector, the Japanese fought fiercely against Soviet heavy weapons and infantry who had advanced to point-blank range. Master Sergeant Suzuki, acting company commander, on his own initiative ordered the main force to counterattack. Through coordinated action, the Japanese knocked out four tanks that had penetrated their positions. Two enemy battalions that had "come close bravely" were nearly wiped out. Total Soviet strength committed in this sector amounted to three battalions and forty tanks. Japanese losses on the Hill 52 front were heavy indeed: seventy-four had been killed and eighty-five wounded, one hundred fifty-nine out of three hundred twenty-eight men in action. The remnants of one infantry company were commanded by a superior private; sergeants led two other infantry and two machine-gun companies. Seven of thirteen heavy weapons were inoperable.  Meanwhile 9th Company elements defended Noguchi Hill, 800 meters southeast of Changkufeng. By 05:00 on 7 August, Soviet troops facing the hill numbered 200 infantry, five tanks, and two rapid-fire guns. From positions set up the previous night along the lake, the Russians opened fire at dawn while 50 soldiers moved to attack with the tanks in support. Captain Noguchi's men poured fire on the enemy and inflicted heavy losses. But the Russians, who possessed superior supporting fire, fought their way forward until, after 40 minutes, they got within 70 meters. The Soviet tanks disappeared into a dead angle near the lakeshore. When the fog lifted at 06:00, the Russians on the southeast slope of Changkufeng fired down at Noguchi Hill with four heavy machine guns. Seven tanks, advancing anew from the gully northeast of Hill 52, came as close as 80 to 200 meters, deployed to encircle, and opened fire. By now, eight Japanese had been killed and five wounded; most of the light machine guns and grenade dischargers had been crippled and all three heavy weapons were out of action. The Russians attacked again at 08:00, hurling grenades and shouting. A dozen tanks operated in support of two infantry companies. The Japanese responded with grenades; yellow and black smoke masked the heights, and the scene was extremely impressive. Desperate hand-to-hand combat raged along the sector for a half-hour until the Soviets fell back after suffering enormous losses.  At 10:40, the Russians assaulted with infantry from the southeast front and from the Changkufeng direction, aided by tanks from the zone between. Captain Noguchi sortied with his remnant, charged the Russians, and drove them off. In this fighting, however, he was shot in the chest and most of his subordinates were killed or wounded. Somehow the captain stayed on his feet. He and six survivors threw grenades at the Russians, who were now behind the Japanese, and then he led a last charge back to the highest positions. Once the enemy had been evicted, Captain Noguchi collapsed. Only three or four soldiers were in fighting condition. The captain begged them to report to Sato, but, refusing to abandon him, the men managed to help him down to the rear. It was 11:30. Captain Noguchi's unit, which had fought bravely since the first combat on 6 August, had been destroyed. Of 78 officers and men, 40 lay killed and another 31 wounded. The hill had been lost. Meanwhile, Soviet bombardment of the Hill 52 district had been heavy, and phone contact with the regiment was severed. Suddenly, the indomitable Captain Noguchi appeared at headquarters, and the regiment finally learned that the foe had penetrated the defenses. The bleeding captain pleaded for a counterattack and kept trying to return to the fight; K. Sato had to restrain him by ordering him to leave for the rear. It was true that the position Captain Noguchi had occupied was the key point connecting Hill 52 and Changkufeng. But Sato reasoned that if they held solidly to the latter hills, their defenses would never be in danger, and it would be easy to retake Noguchi Hill at any time by concentrating fire from all the high ground and by employing artillery, once strength could be spared. Around sunset, however, Sato received an order from the brigade, and a report came from Changkufeng that "our troops' brave fighting has tied us over the crisis." Reassured, Sato proceeded to Hill 52, cheered on Kojima and the soldiers, and examined the condition of the wounded and the heaped-up corpses.  The 75th Infantry estimated that there had been 900 Russian casualties in the right sector and that more than ten tanks and three heavy machine guns had been put out of action. The regiment itself had lost four officers killed and had four wounded. In the entire right sector which included 1,332 men in action, 140 had been killed and 180 wounded. Seven soldiers of the 75th Infantry were also listed as missing in action but presumed dead. Total casualties including the missing, as a percentage of those listed as engaged, amounted to 25 percent for the right sector unit. On the 7th, the unit had lost 19 machine guns and 11 grenade dischargers. As of 18:00 on 7 August, Japanese intelligence estimated that the Russians had committed a grand total of 25 infantry battalions, up six from 6 August, 80 artillery pieces, up 10, and 200 tanks . Situation maps showed one Soviet infantry battalion east of Changkufeng, another north of Hill 52, armor and infantry in unknown strength east of that hill, and artillery positions from northeast to southeast of Khasan. On the 7th, spotters also observed seven large steamers entering Posyet and Khansi, as well as one 10,000-ton vessel at Yangomudy. At least 200 or 300 enemy soldiers in the Karanchin sector were working to strengthen positions. Units moving south from Novokievsk included 350 trucks, 60 tanks, and 400 troops. Heading north from the region of the battlefield were 100 trucks and 150 horsemen. Meanwhile, on the front in eastern Manchuria, elements of the Kwantung Army's 8th Division had forcibly ousted a small party of Soviet border trespassers. The "punch" had gone out of the Russians in the Hill 52 sector after their thorough defeat on 6 and 7 August, but they continued to build up firepower, deploying heavy weapons and artillery observation posts. The bombardments grew more accurate; even regiment and brigade headquarters lost their last dead angles. By daylight on the 8th, two Soviet infantry battalions plus tanks were deployed on the Hill 52 front. Their main forces were distributed along a line 800 meters from the Japanese, and snipers and machine gunners held positions 200 to 300 meters away. "Each time they detected movement, they sniped at us and interfered with our observation." From 09:00, the Japanese sustained scattered artillery fire. At 13:30 there was a bombing raid by 15 planes, but no casualties were incurred. Soviet guns pounded Hill 52 around 18:30, and the Japanese suffered four or five casualties, but morale was generally high, and they sought to strengthen and repair their positions throughout the night. On the Changkufeng front, which had drawn rather serious attention, Russian heavy guns opened slow fire after 05:00 from east of Khasan and from Maanshan. Through the night of 7–8 August, Soviet infantry had assembled near the lake crossing. Russian troop strength increased beyond one-and-a-half battalions. The defenders ran out of grenades and had to resort to rocks, but by 10:00 the Soviet assault waves began to weaken after five hours of fierce resistance. Supporting the Japanese lines had been barrages by grenade launchers, flank fire by a heavy-machine-gun platoon at Chiangchunfeng, and supported by the mountain artillery. Around 10:30, the attackers fled to Khasan. The battlefield quieted, but enemy snipers dug foxholes 300 meters away and kept up persistent fire, and infantry mounted repeated attacks in varying strength.    Since morning, the mountain gun and the two battalion guns at Fangchuanting had engaged infantry and machine guns that appeared on the middle of the Changkufeng crest as well as in the Hill 52 area. The timely fire from these guns caused severe losses, especially to Russian observation posts. But Lieutenant Maeoka, who commanded the mountain platoon from Changkufeng, was wounded badly at 10:30. The mountain battalion also fired at targets in the Changkufeng sector from the Korean side of the Tumen. At 13:20, the Russians pressed new attacks against Changkufeng from three sides, using a total of two companies and three tanks. Although they got close and attacked persistently, they were driven off each time; these afternoon efforts were not very vigorous. Fighters strafed at low altitude and more than ten bombers attacked near 15:00, igniting fires in the village of Fangchuanting. The raids by planes and guns caused frequent cuts in signal lines again. At 06:50 on the 8th, Soviet forces in the left sector resumed their efforts until they were pinned down at 100 meters and had to dig in. Excepting spotter posts, everyone must enter shelters from warning till all-clear. Meanwhile, T. Sato estimated that although enemy attacks were aimed mainly against Changkufeng, there existed some danger that hostile forces would cross the Tumen near Yangkuanping and launch a sudden attack against our left rear, as actions in that area had become pronounced. He accordingly issued an order at 17:00: all of us, superiors as well as subordinates, must overcome exhaustion, make nighttime guardings rigorous, and leave the foe not the slightest opening between friendly battalions or from the shores of the Tumen River.  Suetaka estimated in the morning of the 8th that the Russians were trying to generate propaganda advantageous to them at home and abroad by staking their honor and seizing Changkufeng quickly. From the standpoint of overall political tactics, it was imperative to thwart their intentions. The enemy relied consistently on elements that remained on the Crestline southeast of Changkufeng and served as a base; they must be deprived of that attack base. If his assault plans were to be successful, the 37th Brigade would require reinforcement. The first battalion-size elements of Cho's infantry were arriving. As an initial step, Hanyu's battalion should cross the Tumen and join the brigade, while the main body of the regiment, due that afternoon, should be ready to enter the lines. The division chief of staff issued an order in the name of Suetaka, stipulating that the division would secure its positions while adhering to the great policy of nonexpansion. At 22:30 Morimoto speculated that the Russians were hoping for the good fortune of retaking Changkufeng. Strict guard measures were enjoined. Eventually, before midnight, Suetaka met Cho at Seikaku station. To implement Suetaka's request that the Russian foothold southeast of Changkufeng be wiped out soon, Morimoto decided in the morning to employ the new battalion from Cho's regiment. But since Hanyu's unit was delayed by enemy fire, Morimoto had to turn to the reserve 76th Regiment. At 16:00 Okido was told to prepare an attack, using one infantry battalion and an engineer squad. The mission was to take advantage of darkness to expel the foe remaining on Changkufeng, secure the heights in concert with the elements on the hill, and smash any serious attack at night. At 17:00 Okido issued his detailed order. Enemy elements were located near the cliff close to the northern top of Changkufeng. Apparently hostile bases existed in scattered fashion on the southern slopes as well, as well as a rather large base on the middle of Akahage "Red Bald" Hill, formerly held by Captain Noguchi's company. The regiment was to drive those forces north of Hill 52. The 3rd Battalion commander, Major Hashimoto Seishiro, was to direct both companies' assaults, and, once the foe had been ousted, secure the locations until dawn, after which he would return to the reserve unit.  On the 8th, at 19:30, Hashimoto proceeded with his battalion staff to the foot of Changkufeng and conferred with Major Sato and Captain Shimomura, the majors commanding the units with which he was to cooperate. The assault units moved out from Chiangchunfeng, but their timing was thrown off by a half-hour of artillery checking fire from northeast of the lake. At 20:50, Captain Iwai's 10th Company, supported by a machine-gun platoon, attacked the rock corner on the east side of Changkufeng. After cutting down Soviet sentries, the Japanese rushed in; 40–50 Russian soldiers retreated toward Akahage. On that hill there had been only 20–30 Soviet troops to begin with, but their strength had been built up to two companies plus tanks and infantry guns. The Russians laid down violent small-arms fire, causing 17 Japanese casualties in a short period, after which 30–40 enemy soldiers sought to counterattack. The Japanese drove back this effort, readied their own offensive, and continued to launch close assaults against the heavy-machine-gun nest at the rock corner. Simultaneously, Captain Shidara's 7th Company jumped off with five attached demolition engineers. The 1st Platoon broke through the entanglements and cut down lookouts while the 2nd Platoon proceeded to mop up footholds on the north side—about ten Russian soldiers who dotted the slope at four locations. In the process, the company ran into the positions Iwai had been attacking. Terrain and enemy fire dictated a detour south of the ridgeline. Shidara's men moved up behind Iwai on the right, joining Hashimoto's command. The battalion commander consolidated his lines and directed reconnaissance preparatory to an attack against Akahage. Hours passed; Okido, at the command post, decided it might be wiser to wait till daybreak and call for artillery support. Hashimoto then issued his own instructions from the eastern salient, cautioning his men to dig in well. Near 04:00 the redeployments were completed, but construction did not progress due to the rocky terrain; soldiers were barely able to scoop knee-high firing trenches by daybreak. Total Russian losses on the 8th were estimated to exceed 1,500. More than 100 tanks were claimed publicly, and it was "confirmed" that since the 1st, six planes had been shot down, two of which had fallen behind Japanese lines. In Tokyo, the war ministry and the Gaimusho denied categorically that the Russians had retaken Changkufeng. Soviet troops had attempted to rush positions 600 feet from the crest at 1400 hours; after two and a half hours of furious hand-to-hand fighting, they were beaten off with presumably heavy casualties on both sides. Soviet tanks were reported moving north from Posyet Bay, though it remained unclear whether this indicated withdrawal or strategic movement. Right sector casualties were relatively light on 8 August: eight killed and 41 wounded, the 75th Infantry suffering five and 38 of these respectively. Officer casualties were proportionately high: two wounded in the 75th Regiment, one in the 76th Regiment, and a fourth in the mountain artillery. Personnel rosters of the 75th Regiment, as of 30 July and 8 August, showed a reduction from 1,403 to 826, down 41 percent. The cumulative effect of Japanese losses and the scale of Soviet commitment troubled the Korea Army. Suetaka reported Japanese casualties as: through 2 August, 45 killed, 120 wounded; from 3-5 August, 25 killed, 60 wounded; since 6 August, killed unknown, 200 wounded. Remarkably, the same casualty totals were released publicly by the war ministry on the night of the 8th. Throughout 9 August at 15:20 the Japanese were hit by a very intense barrage from Hill 29. The mountain gun was damaged by shellfire and had to be moved to the foot of Fangchuanting. Tanaka had ordered his artillery to conduct long-range artillery neutralization and communications-cutoff fire, and short-range neutralization as well as checking fire. The accuracy of our artillery elements had improved, and the power of our guns had been enhanced greatly. On the left, from 05:30, T. Sato dispatched an antitank platoon, under cover of mist, to finish off immobilized Soviet tanks whose main armament was still operational and which had done some severe firing the day before. As the day wore on, spirits rose, for the men heard the roar of friendly 15-cm cannon laying down mighty neutralization fire against enemy artillery. Near 14:15, Russian troops were detected creeping forward in the woods 400 meters away on the right. Supporting mountain artillery wiped out this threat in short order. Suetaka decided to move his division headquarters to Seikaku and his combat command post to the Matsu'otsuho message center. Anxiety about the Wuchiatzu sector to the north had diminished greatly; in addition, the entire strength of the division had already been brought to the front. Lastly, dealings with the Seoul and Tokyo levels had by now become rather secondary in importance. Suetaka could discern the steady, disturbing exhaustion of his front-line troops. On the other hand, newly arrived Cho was raring to go. After receiving authorization from Suetaka, Cho allowed Nakajima's battalion to cross the river at Matsu'otsuho but kept Osuga's battalion on the Korean bank as division reserve. Since Tanaka had surmised that the Russians' intention was to direct their main offensive effort against the Japanese right wing, it seemed best to transfer the mountain guns to strengthen the right sector positions. The brigade order of 17:30 endorsed Tanaka's shift of defensive emphasis, particularly with regard to the artillery and the new elements from Cho's regiment. Morimoto added that the core of the Soviet assault force southeast of Changkufeng amounted to two infantry battalions. T. Sato accordingly ordered Obo's battalion to integrate its heavy firepower and deliver swift fire in timely fashion. Soon afterward, Obo discerned a massed battalion of Russian infantry, who had been hauled up by trucks, on the northeastern skirt of Changkufeng. He unleashed every available weapon, organic and attached, at 19:30. The Soviets seemed taken completely by surprise; they showed extreme bewilderment and dispersed in an instant. The right sector unit estimated that on 9 August it had caused 450 casualties, stopped five tanks, and knocked out one light artillery piece and seven heavy machine guns. Japanese casualties in the right sector had amounted to 28 killed and 43 wounded. Ammunition expenditures were considerably higher than on the 8th.  During the night of 9–10 August, the 74th Infantry reinforcements crossed the Tumen steadily. In the early hours, Okido concluded that Soviet attack designs had been frustrated for the time being. The Hill 52 front was relatively calm. Soviet automatic weapons and riflemen were still deployed 200 to 300 meters from Japanese positions, where they sniped selectively. Russian artillery was quiet, apparently as the result of the movement of the main Japanese artillery force to the right wing and the arrival of long-range guns. The 75th Regiment command post at Fangchuanting was the focal point of Japanese artillery activity. Firing began at 07:10, when four battalion guns engaged and smashed two Soviet mountain pieces.  As for Soviet ground assaults, one company attacked at Changkufeng as early as 05:20 under cover of fog but was driven off after 40 minutes. The Russians struck again from three directions in formidable strength between 09:00 and 10:00. Morimoto, growing concerned about the danger of irruptions through gaps between Changkufeng and Shachaofeng, sent elements of Nakajima's battalion to Chiangchunfeng. Since the right wing of the Russians atop Changkufeng was spilling onto the western slopes, at 10:30 Nakajima had his heavy machine guns and battalion guns lay down strong fire from the peak of Chiangchunfeng. Meanwhile, heavy weapons from the left sector were also contributing to the repulse of the morning assaults. A battalion of Soviet infantry attacked Changkufeng all afternoon. Fierce gunfire by the 75th Regiment at 14:00 routed troops massing on the slopes facing the red flag. Considerable losses were inflicted on 75 Russians sighted northeast of Hill 52. An enemy company on the Khasan shore and another two east of Akahage Hill were attempting to occupy positions from which to strike Fangchuanting with the support of two rapid-fire guns. By 17:00 the Russians had been repulsed by the energetic fire of Japanese small arms, battalion guns, and artillery. Soviet forces dispersed toward the lakeshore and Hill 52, leaving many corpses behind. The last important firing by Japanese battalion guns at Fangchuanting on the 10th was a mission against the eastern slopes of Changkufeng at 18:00. Thereafter, the battle zone grew still.  In the left sector, T. Sato concluded that, to secure Changkufeng, it would be best to reinforce flank fire instead of concentrating on the direct attack or defense of the Changkufeng district. He therefore made arrangements with Okido to borrow one machine-gun platoon and assign it to Obo. As of 05:30, enemy troops were still holding a line 300 meters from the positions of Obo's right battalion and 800 to 1,000 meters ahead of Takenouchi's left battalion. Shortly afterward, good news was received at the left sector command post: the last battalion of the 73rd Regiment was to have left Nanam at 16:00 on 9 August and would arrive in the near future. On the right wing of the left sector, the Russians facing Kadokura's company began to operate energetically from 09:00, advancing in two lines, 150 meters apart, with a total strength of one company: two platoons up, one platoon back. They were supported by forces on the high ground north of Khasan and on Akahage. Kadokura waited for the enemy to close to 200 meters before ordering his men to open fire; particularly effective was the flanking fire by the machine-gun company and by elements of Okuda's company. Many heavy artillery shells were hitting the Japanese lines now, but defensive fire pinned down the attacking infantry for a while, 100 meters from the breastworks. Then 30 or 40 Soviet soldiers, covered by firepower, worked forward as close as 30 meters, hurling grenades and giving every indication of mounting a charge. The Japanese responded with grenades. At the same time, the left-flank squad of Kadokura's company was being annihilated. Thus encouraged, Russian assault troops plunged close, whereupon Kadokura assembled his available men, a dozen or so, from the command teams and runners—and grappled with the foe at point-blank range. An ammunition man joined in the melee and broke up the Soviet assault by expert use of hand grenades. The second echelon gradually fell back around 10:30, in the face of heavy fire laid down by the machine guns and Okuda's company. The Russians appeared to be adjusting their deployment but made no further efforts to close. At Changkufeng, meanwhile, two or three enemy companies were approaching the crest. Left sector raiding fire caused the Russians to flee. Japanese casualties in the old right sector had been nine killed and 22 wounded on 10 August. It was estimated that Soviet casualties amounted to 600 killed or wounded, with five heavy machine guns knocked out. By this time, the Soviets had committed their maximum infantry and artillery strength: 27 battalions and 100 guns, the same as on 9 August but up 17 battalions and 60 units since 3 August. Higher headquarters reported no tanks at the front, though 75th Infantry situation maps indicated some Soviet armor still faced Hill 52 sector. Although Japanese officers insisted that Changkufeng Hill remained in Japanese possession, they acknowledged increased casualties due to the accuracy of Soviet shelling. Losses were not as severe as might have been expected because the enemy did not time their charges with their bombardments; Japanese troops lay in trenches and met the attackers with grenades. Every combat unit of the 19th Division had been committed. Nevertheless, the maimed and the fresh battalions had amounted to a combined maximum strength of only 12 infantry battalions and 37 artillery pieces, primarily 75-mm mountain guns, without armor or aircraft. These forces had to cope with 27 enemy infantry battalions and 100 artillery pieces, including many long-range guns, as well as sizable tank and aerial units. Every echelon, regiment, division, and army, had voiced the need for troop replacements and reinforcements.  By evening of 10 August, the situation had deteriorated to the point that the division chief of staff sent Seoul a very long and painful message that ended with: "There is danger of radical change in combat situation in few days if matters go on. It is estimated that this division has only one or two days left in which it can retain definite freedom of action,initiative to advance or retreat. Even if overall situation should develop to our advantage in next three or four days, we ought to be patient from broader standpoint, and be satisfied with our achievement, that Japanese Army has manifested its strength against enemy till now. While we do retain freedom of action, it would be appropriate to solve incident now through speedy diplomatic negotiations. Such measures are entirely up to Korea Army and high command but, so far as division is concerned, there is no other way except of course to make desperate efforts to maintain occupation line for sake of mission. Please take these matters into sympathetic consideration and conduct appropriate measures urgently". 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. Night raids and artillery opened the fight, with Hill 52 and Changkufeng changing hands amid intense Soviet tank and air assaults. Japanese forces, aided by engineers, infantry, and mountain guns, mounted tenacious defense, repelling repeated Soviet breakthroughs though suffering heavy casualties. By August 10, Japanese divisions faced mounting exhaustion and warnings of potential strategic shifts, while both sides suffered substantial casualties and material losses.

Cooperative Evangelist: Kagawa Toyohiko and His World, 1888-1960 (University of Hawai'i Press, 2025) by Bo Tao uncovers the extraordinary world of a Japanese man who was once described as the “Saint Francis” or the “Gandhi” of Japan. A renowned religious figure on the world stage, Kagawa Toyohiko (1888–1960) received wide acclaim for his work as a street preacher in the slums of Kobe as well as his espousal of nonviolent methods of social reform. His reputation as a pacifist figure, however, rested uneasily with his wartime actions, which became increasingly supportive of the Japanese government and its expansionist policies. Reluctant to speak up against Japan's increasing aggression in the late 1930s, he emerged as a full-blown apologist during the Pacific War, appearing on several Radio Tokyo broadcasts as a propagandist defending the interests of the state. Adopting a transnational approach that accounts for the rapid flow of information between Japan and the United States, Bo Tao examines the career of Kagawa as it unfolded within the context of the wars, imperialism, and economic depression of the early to mid-twentieth century. Using official documents and personal correspondence that have received scant attention in previous works, Tao reveals, for the first time at this level of detail, the extent of Kagawa's cooperative relationship with the Japanese government, as well as the ways in which his idealized image was carefully constructed by his ardent missionary supporters. This book provides a window into the global dimensions of broader cultural shifts during the interwar period, such as the rise of Christian internationalism and the Depression-era popularity of cooperative economics. Offering a holistic and nuanced exploration of the tensions resulting from Kagawa's hybrid identity as a Japanese Christian, Cooperative Evangelist adds a new layer to our understanding of religion, empire, and politics in the shaping of social and international relations. Bo Tao is Lecturer in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Chiba University in Chiba, Japan. His research interests include global history, U.S.-Japan relations, religion and politics, modern Japanese history, and the history of Christianity. Shatrunjay Mall is a PhD Candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He works on transnational Asian history, and his dissertation explores intellectual, political, and cultural intersections and affinities that emerged between Indian anti-colonialism and imperial Japan in the twentieth century. 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

In this episode, I discuss some of my favorite and not-so-favorite films which depict the events of the second world war.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!

Cooperative Evangelist: Kagawa Toyohiko and His World, 1888-1960 (University of Hawai'i Press, 2025) by Bo Tao uncovers the extraordinary world of a Japanese man who was once described as the “Saint Francis” or the “Gandhi” of Japan. A renowned religious figure on the world stage, Kagawa Toyohiko (1888–1960) received wide acclaim for his work as a street preacher in the slums of Kobe as well as his espousal of nonviolent methods of social reform. His reputation as a pacifist figure, however, rested uneasily with his wartime actions, which became increasingly supportive of the Japanese government and its expansionist policies. Reluctant to speak up against Japan's increasing aggression in the late 1930s, he emerged as a full-blown apologist during the Pacific War, appearing on several Radio Tokyo broadcasts as a propagandist defending the interests of the state. Adopting a transnational approach that accounts for the rapid flow of information between Japan and the United States, Bo Tao examines the career of Kagawa as it unfolded within the context of the wars, imperialism, and economic depression of the early to mid-twentieth century. Using official documents and personal correspondence that have received scant attention in previous works, Tao reveals, for the first time at this level of detail, the extent of Kagawa's cooperative relationship with the Japanese government, as well as the ways in which his idealized image was carefully constructed by his ardent missionary supporters. This book provides a window into the global dimensions of broader cultural shifts during the interwar period, such as the rise of Christian internationalism and the Depression-era popularity of cooperative economics. Offering a holistic and nuanced exploration of the tensions resulting from Kagawa's hybrid identity as a Japanese Christian, Cooperative Evangelist adds a new layer to our understanding of religion, empire, and politics in the shaping of social and international relations. Bo Tao is Lecturer in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Chiba University in Chiba, Japan. His research interests include global history, U.S.-Japan relations, religion and politics, modern Japanese history, and the history of Christianity. Shatrunjay Mall is a PhD Candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He works on transnational Asian history, and his dissertation explores intellectual, political, and cultural intersections and affinities that emerged between Indian anti-colonialism and imperial Japan in the twentieth century. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Cooperative Evangelist: Kagawa Toyohiko and His World, 1888-1960 (University of Hawai'i Press, 2025) by Bo Tao uncovers the extraordinary world of a Japanese man who was once described as the “Saint Francis” or the “Gandhi” of Japan. A renowned religious figure on the world stage, Kagawa Toyohiko (1888–1960) received wide acclaim for his work as a street preacher in the slums of Kobe as well as his espousal of nonviolent methods of social reform. His reputation as a pacifist figure, however, rested uneasily with his wartime actions, which became increasingly supportive of the Japanese government and its expansionist policies. Reluctant to speak up against Japan's increasing aggression in the late 1930s, he emerged as a full-blown apologist during the Pacific War, appearing on several Radio Tokyo broadcasts as a propagandist defending the interests of the state. Adopting a transnational approach that accounts for the rapid flow of information between Japan and the United States, Bo Tao examines the career of Kagawa as it unfolded within the context of the wars, imperialism, and economic depression of the early to mid-twentieth century. Using official documents and personal correspondence that have received scant attention in previous works, Tao reveals, for the first time at this level of detail, the extent of Kagawa's cooperative relationship with the Japanese government, as well as the ways in which his idealized image was carefully constructed by his ardent missionary supporters. This book provides a window into the global dimensions of broader cultural shifts during the interwar period, such as the rise of Christian internationalism and the Depression-era popularity of cooperative economics. Offering a holistic and nuanced exploration of the tensions resulting from Kagawa's hybrid identity as a Japanese Christian, Cooperative Evangelist adds a new layer to our understanding of religion, empire, and politics in the shaping of social and international relations. Bo Tao is Lecturer in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Chiba University in Chiba, Japan. His research interests include global history, U.S.-Japan relations, religion and politics, modern Japanese history, and the history of Christianity. Shatrunjay Mall is a PhD Candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He works on transnational Asian history, and his dissertation explores intellectual, political, and cultural intersections and affinities that emerged between Indian anti-colonialism and imperial Japan in the twentieth century. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/japanese-studies

Cooperative Evangelist: Kagawa Toyohiko and His World, 1888-1960 (University of Hawai'i Press, 2025) by Bo Tao uncovers the extraordinary world of a Japanese man who was once described as the “Saint Francis” or the “Gandhi” of Japan. A renowned religious figure on the world stage, Kagawa Toyohiko (1888–1960) received wide acclaim for his work as a street preacher in the slums of Kobe as well as his espousal of nonviolent methods of social reform. His reputation as a pacifist figure, however, rested uneasily with his wartime actions, which became increasingly supportive of the Japanese government and its expansionist policies. Reluctant to speak up against Japan's increasing aggression in the late 1930s, he emerged as a full-blown apologist during the Pacific War, appearing on several Radio Tokyo broadcasts as a propagandist defending the interests of the state. Adopting a transnational approach that accounts for the rapid flow of information between Japan and the United States, Bo Tao examines the career of Kagawa as it unfolded within the context of the wars, imperialism, and economic depression of the early to mid-twentieth century. Using official documents and personal correspondence that have received scant attention in previous works, Tao reveals, for the first time at this level of detail, the extent of Kagawa's cooperative relationship with the Japanese government, as well as the ways in which his idealized image was carefully constructed by his ardent missionary supporters. This book provides a window into the global dimensions of broader cultural shifts during the interwar period, such as the rise of Christian internationalism and the Depression-era popularity of cooperative economics. Offering a holistic and nuanced exploration of the tensions resulting from Kagawa's hybrid identity as a Japanese Christian, Cooperative Evangelist adds a new layer to our understanding of religion, empire, and politics in the shaping of social and international relations. Bo Tao is Lecturer in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Chiba University in Chiba, Japan. His research interests include global history, U.S.-Japan relations, religion and politics, modern Japanese history, and the history of Christianity. Shatrunjay Mall is a PhD Candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He works on transnational Asian history, and his dissertation explores intellectual, political, and cultural intersections and affinities that emerged between Indian anti-colonialism and imperial Japan in the twentieth century. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/christian-studies

Last time we spoke about the Russian Counter Offensive over the Heights. On the Manchurian frontier, a Japanese plan hatched in the hush before dawn: strike at Hill 52, seize the summit, and bargain only if fate demanded. Colonel Sato chose Nakano's 75th Regiment, delivering five fearless captains to lead the charge, with Nakajima rising like a bright spark among them. Under a cloak of night, scouts threaded the cold air, and at 2:15 a.m. wires fell away, revealing a path through darkness. By dawn, a pale light brushed the crest; Hill 52 yielded, then Shachaofeng did, as dawn's demands pressed forward. The Russians responded with a thunder of tanks, planes, and relentless artillery. Yet the Japanese braced, shifting guns, moving reinforcements, and pressing a discipline born of training and resolve. The battlefield fractured into sectors, Hill 52, Shachaofeng, the lake, each demanding courage and cunning. Night winds carried the buzz of flares, the hiss of shells, and the stubborn clang of rifles meeting armor. The Russians tried to reweave their strength, but Japanese firepower and tenacious assaults kept the line from bending. By nightfall, a quiet resolve settled over the hills; the cost was steep, but the crest remained in Japanese hands.   #182 The Second Russian Counteroffensive over the heights 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. The Japanese retained their hard won positions despite fierce Russian counterattacks. For the Japanese command structure at the front, 3 August was of prime importance. Suetaka concluded that he could not merely direct the fighting around Changkufeng nor abandon Kyonghun, given his need to manage relations with Korea Army Headquarters and central authorities, as well as the special characteristics of these battles and his grave concerns about the Wuchiatzu front to the north. By 5 p.m., the newly arrived 37th Brigade commander, Morimoto Nobuki, was assigned control of all sectors from Hill 52 and Changkufeng to Shachaofeng, establishing his command post at the former site of the 75th Regiment at Chiangchunfeng. The Japanese estimated losses from the Soviet counterattacks on 2–3 August as follows: Hill 52-Changkufeng, at least 300 Soviet casualties and four tanks; Shachaofeng, about 300 casualties and several tanks, plus several heavy machine guns knocked out. By 17:00 on 3 August, Russian strength committed to the front and immediate rear was assessed at ten infantry battalions, 40 artillery pieces, and 80 tanks. Japanese casualties on the 2nd and 3rd totaled 16 killed and 25 wounded. Suetaka judged the Soviet bombardments on 3 August powerful, but their infantry assaults were not particularly bold, likely due to their heavy losses on the 2nd. Even though morale was not high, there were signs of reinforcements from elite units, including armor and large artillery formations. Suetaka concluded the Russians would again attempt to retake the Shachaofeng sector and positions around Changkufeng. During the night of 3–4 August, the 75th Infantry, still on alert against resumed enemy counterattacks, intensified security and worked energetically to strengthen defenses. K. Sato remained at Chiangchunfeng to complete the turnover to the 37th Brigade and to brief Morimoto. The regiment established its new command post for the right sector at the foot of Fangchuanting. Throughout the night, Soviet vehicles with blinking lights were observed moving south along the high ground east of Khasan, and a new buildup of mechanized forces and artillery appeared in the area. At 05:30, 36 tanks were seen advancing to Hill 29, followed by the apparent withdrawal of 50–60 Russian horsemen into the same area. At 07:00 on 04 August, Soviet artillery began a bombardment. Although there was a lull around noon, by 14:00 intensity peaked, described as "like millions of lightning bolts striking at once." After another quiet spell, enemy guns renewed their tempo at 19:30, targeting Hill 52 and Changkufeng. The Russians' artillery was not precisely zeroed in; "many of the shells plopped into the Tumen, which delighted us considerably." Beginning on the 4th, Soviet artillery sought to cut lines of communication by bombarding the river crossing site, disrupting daytime supply. Japanese artillery records add: "Until today, this battalion had been fired on only by field artillery; now 122-mm. howitzers went into action against us. We sustained no losses, since the points of impact were 100 meters off. Apparently, the Russians conducted firing for effect from the outset, using data provided by the field artillery in advance." Around midnight, Ichimoto, the old commander of the 1st Infantry Battalion, arrived at the 75th Regiment Headquarters to resume command. He was "itching to fight." K. Sato described the casualties in detail, but "he didn't look beaten at all." "To the contrary, the colonel was strong and in excellent spirits. Yet while he wasn't pessimistic, one could not call him optimistic." At the battalion site, about 100 men were in operational condition out of an original 400. Some soldiers were hauling ammunition, rations, and position materiel; others were cremating the dead, since corpses would rot in the August heat. Japanese casualties on 4 August were light: the 75th Infantry lost five killed and three wounded; among attached engineers, the platoon leader and two men were wounded. Ammunition expenditure was very low. The Japanese press noted that although the Russians had been reported retreating behind the lake to the northeast, investigation showed a redeployment forward from south of Changkufeng. An American observer in Tokyo stated that "the best information obtainable is that the Russians now occupy the lower slopes of Changkufeng, while the Japanese still occupy the heights." From this period dates a series of pleas from the 19th Division for the dispatch of long-range artillery from the Kwantung Army. Suetaka believed that the addition of long-range artillery was necessary and feasible. As Kitano predicted, Suetaka submitted his recommendation at 05:00 on 5 August for the attention of the Korea Army commander and the AGS deputy. As dawn approached on 5 August, the Korea Army received Suetaka's request. A message was dispatched to the vice minister of war and the AGS deputy, and an inquiry was sent to Hsinking. The note detailed Soviet artillery on the Changkufeng front, eight to ten batteries of field and mountain guns, including 10-cm cannons and two or three 15-cm howitzers, and described how these long-range pieces kept up a slow fire beyond Japanese firing range. Overnight, Soviet traffic pressed along the high ground east of Khasan, and by 06:30 the horizon brimmed with new threat: 48 tanks concentrated near Hill 29, with fresh artillery deployed once the Russians realized their own guns were receiving scant challenge from the Japanese. Movement across the lake suggested continued armor in play; at dawn, 10 to 15 tanks lingered on the Crestline, while closer still, six Russian tanks prowled near the southern edge of Khasan. By 03:00, Changkufeng came under bombardment again. K. Sato urged the mountain artillery to answer dawn with counterfire against the high ground east of Khasan and against Hill 29. Between 05:00 and 05:40, the artillery struck armor concentrations, knocked out two tanks, and forced the rest toward the east of Hill 29. Observation posts were neutralized, and cavalry was driven north. At the same hour, the Soviet barrage against the Japanese rear intensified, targeting lines of communication across the Tumen. The Sozan link failed by day, and telephone lines to the artillery battalion were severed, though signalmen managed to restore communications. The river crossings, Fangchuanting, Hill 52, and Shachaofeng bore the brunt of the shelling, with 15-cm blasts jolting the frontline. "From today enemy shellfire was coned and grew increasingly accurate, until every area along our front was deprived of its dead angles and our casualties mounted." The Hill 52 zone endured a slow siege, but tank fire from the eastern heights remained severe. Noguchi's company, positioned south of Changkufeng, found itself trapped in crossfire from positions across the lake. Suetaka, his front-line subordinates, and their worries about artillery superiority pressed onward. He did what he could with the resources at hand, and, in the morning, shifted a two-15-cm howitzer battery from Kyonghun to the sector opposite Changkufeng, a modest increment in reach but a needed one. At 10:00, Suetaka ordered replenishment of frontline strength. He calculated the enemy's power and their own limits: the Russians had deployed three or four infantry battalions, around 120–130 tanks, 50–60 armored cars, about 1,000 mounted troops, and three or four artillery battalions. Yet he found a glimmer in their morale; "the morale of our own units has risen, as we have been dealing grievous blows to the foe on occasion and have been steadily breaking hostile intentions." By 5 August, he noted, fifty enemy tanks had already fallen. Morimoto watched the ominous lull that threatened another attritional test and warned that the situation demanded constant vigilance. "Even if the front seems quiet, we must tighten security, reinforce positions, and not give the foe even the slightest advantage to exploit." The 5th saw only four Japanese soldiers wounded, three from the 75th and one from the mountain artillery, while ammunition usage remained low. Anti-aircraft guns west of Sozan drove off two aircraft that appeared over Changkufeng at 11:45, triggering a counterbarrage from the northeast of Khasan. A few Soviet planes skimmed over Hill 52 and Changkufeng in the afternoon, but their flights felt more like reconnaissance than threat. Across the line, the Russians continued to probe the east side. Northeast of Khasan, waves of infantry and trucks, dozens at a time, slipped south, while roughly 20 tanks began their own southern march. The Russians worked to erect new positions along the Khansi heights. In the meantime, conversations in Moscow pressed toward a decision, with intelligence predicting that a breakthrough would come by noon on the 5th. Around midnight on 5 August, Morimoto observed that the Russians' forward elements seemed to have been pulled back and the front lay quiet. He ordered vigilant guard duties, stressing that crossing the border, trespassing, and fomenting trouble were prohibited by all units and even by scouts. Meanwhile, the Japanese had been preparing for night attacks and consolidating positions. Throughout the foggy night, mechanized units moved on the Crestline east of Khasan. At daybreak, a platoon leader north of Changkufeng reported tanks heading toward Hill 29, estimating the total force at about 70 tanks and 50 troop-laden trucks. Japanese observers at Hill 52 detected new artillery positions on both sides of Hill 29 and 40 tanks on the Crestline south of the hill. By 07:00, the high ground was covered by no fewer than 100 tanks, with 8 or 9 infantry battalions deployed ahead and behind. As early as 03:00, K. Sato had urged his artillery liaison officer to ensure friendly guns fired at daybreak against the Hill 29 sector to thwart the enemy's intentions in advance. When morning fog lifted a bit at 06:00, Kamimori's mountain artillery battalion "hit the tanks very well," and front-line officers spotted shell impacts, though visibility improved only until 10:00, when mist again hampered observation. By 07:00, Soviet guns began firing from near Hill 29, triggering a duel in which the Japanese outranged them. Around 09:00, as the fog lifted from the higher crest of Changkufeng, Japanese gunners added their fire against the 40 Russian tanks near Hill 29. From Fangchuanting, the lone Japanese mountain piece also engaged armor and troop-laden trucks around Hill 29. As time wore on, the Soviet artillery showed its power, and Hill 52 became a beehive of shelling. From 11:00 onward the defenders began to suffer more and more casualties, with works shattered in succession. Flank fire from Gaho and heavy guns from Maanshan took a toll. The 100 tanks deployed on the Crestline north and south of Hill 29 delivered furious low-trajectory fire, gradually turning the front walls of our firing trenches into something resembling a saw. Russian shellfire pounded defenses at Hill 52, Noguchi Hill, and Changkufeng. Between 02:00 and 05:00 the Russian shells had been dispersed; now they concentrated their bombardment. They even struck the rear headquarters of the 37th Brigade and the 75th Regiment. The crossings at Sozan and Matsu'otsuho took heavy hits, and Sato worried that friendly batteries would become exposed to counter-battery fire if they opened up too soon. A peak of intensity arrived near 13:30 as the Soviet ground assault began. Now 30 Soviet aircraft bombed Changkufeng, Fangchuanting, and Hill 52, and Russian tanks moved toward Hill 52, with infantry 300–400 meters behind. To blunt the assault, Hirahara ordered ammunition caches and instructed troops not to open fire prematurely. The Soviet infantry and tanks pressed to a line about 900 meters from the Japanese, paused briefly, then continued. By 14:00, the advance resumed, led by three battalions and 50 tanks. Lieutenant Saito, commanding the 3rd Battalion's antitank battery, waited until tanks were 800 meters away and then opened fire with his three pieces. In a furious exchange between 13:50 and 14:30, as armor closed to 300 meters, the Japanese stopped 14 tanks and seriously damaged others in the rear. One antitank squad leader, a corporal, would later receive a posthumous citation for destroying more than ten tanks. Several tanks fled into a dip near Khasan; some Soviet troops were reportedly crushed by their own tanks in the melee. Supporting Saito's fire were Hisatsune's regimental guns and the captured antitank gun at Changkufeng, which the Japanese used to engage armor along the lake's slopes. Noguchi's unit fired battalion guns against the tanks while the attached mountain pieces bombarded the Russians despite intense counterbattery fire. At Hill 52, liaison lieutenant Fuji'uchi observed the shelling and coordinated infantry–artillery actions with a platoon leader, never flinching even after being buried in trenches three times by shell blasts; he was killed near 14:00. Captain Shiozawa, the mountain battery commander, took charge of directing fire and also was also slain. The Russians' assault pushed forward; 16 tanks followed behind the vanguard, moving along the Crestline behind Hill 52, and joined the tanks in firing but did not advance further. To the rear, a large force moved along the lake north of Hill 52 until checked by fire from Noguchi's positions. A dozen Russian tanks converged southwest of Khasan at 16:00. Master Sergeant Kobayashi, acting platoon leader of the engineers, proposed a close-quarter demolition attack since Japanese antitank strength was limited. After approval from Hirahara, at around 16:30 he and 13 men crept forward 300 meters undetected. Twenty meters from the tanks, Kobayashi urged his men: "One man, one tank! Unto death for us all!" The assault wrecked six to eight (or possibly ten) of the 12 enemy tanks and killed many crew members inside and outside the vehicles, but Kobayashi and seven of his men were killed; only one soldier, Kabasawa, survived to perform a posthumous rescue of a fallen comrade. Of the 60 Russian tanks and at least four battalions that rushed to Hill 52, only one tank charged into the hill positions. At 17:30, this machine reached within 150 meters of the 11th Company lines but was destroyed by armor-piercing heavy machine-gun fire. Back at the 75th Regiment command post, K. Sato received reports from the line units, but hostile fire cut communications with Hill 52 in the afternoon. His antitank guns were increasingly inoperable, and casualties mounted. He reinforced Hill 52 first with heavy machine guns and then with an infantry company. North of Hill 52, Noguchi had been in position with an infantry platoon, a machine-gun platoon, and the battalion gun battery. By 09:30, enemy bombardment forced him to pull back temporarily to the lower Scattered Pines area to avoid needless casualties. At Akahage or "Red Bald" Hill, Noguchi left only lookouts. Around 16:00, about two enemy companies were observed moving toward Changkufeng. Noguchi redirected fire to meet the threat. The Japanese, pinned by infantry and four tanks approaching within 150 meters, endured infantry guns and other tanks in a protracted exchange. Shelling continued until sundown. Casualties mounted; the machine-gun platoon leader, Master Sergeant Harayama, fell with 20 of his men. "It was a hard battle, but we retained our positions, and the enemy advance toward Changkufeng was checked." After sunset there were occasional fire exchanges; tanks remained visible burning. Soviet troops attempting to breach barriers faced hand-grenade assaults. A great deal of noise signaled casualties being evacuated and tanks salvaged behind enemy lines, but no fresh assaults followed. The effective barrage by the 2nd Mountain Artillery Battalion helped deter further attempts.  Around 13:30 the advance began. Soviet ground troops laid down a barrage of field, heavy, and mountain gunfire against Hill 52, Noguchi Hill, and Fangchuanting until sunset. Casualties were heaviest between 15:00 and 17:00. Soviet cutoff fire against the Tumen crossings continued even after the sun went down. Japanese close-support artillery attracted instantaneous counterbattery fire. Enemy planes also seemed to be bombing in quest of the artillery sites. On the sector defended by T. Sato, throughout the night of 5-6 August, Russian movements had been frequent on the Kozando-Paksikori road and east of Khasan, trucks and tanks making round trips. The roar of engines and rumbling of vehicles were especially pronounced on the lake heights. Headlights shone brightly, causing Japanese lookouts to speculate that the Russians were putting on a demonstration to suggest that their main offensive effort was being aimed against Hill 52. Nevertheless, the left sector unit was ready for an enemy dawn assault, which did materialize around 06:00. One or two Soviet battalions struck forward, encountered a torrent of fire at 300 meters, and fled, leaving 30 bodies behind. Near 09:00 the left sector experienced a fierce series of bombardments; all of the men except lookouts took cover in trenches. The Soviet guns thundered unrelentingly, apparently in preparation for an offensive. At 14:30 several dozen bombers struck. Simultaneously, a wave of 60 tanks moved forward, followed by three battalions of infantry. Major Obo, battalion commander on the right wing, had his heavy machine guns, battalion guns, and line companies engage the foot soldiers, while antitank and regimental guns concentrated against armor. The tanks fanned out and approached within 700 meters, stopping to fire on occasion in "mobile pillbox" fashion. Despite unrelenting enemy tank and artillery shelling, the Japanese regimental guns, and the rapid-fire pieces in particular, shifted position and laid down raiding fire. In conjunction with heavy weapons belonging to Takenouchi's battalion, Obo's men succeeded in stopping 20 tanks. The rest of the armored group continued to push forward. The Russian infantry had pressed on another 200 meters behind the tanks, but eventually they lost momentum 400 meters from the Japanese positions. Having managed to separate the tanks from the infantry, the Japanese units staged close-in assaults in concert with heavy weapons and smashed ten more tanks. Thirty machines had been immobilized by now after a furious struggle lasting five hours. Although Lieutenant Ikue was killed by machine-gun fire, his mountain artillery platoon, emplaced at Shachaofeng, rendered yeoman service, stopping 20 tanks. The forward elements of Soviet infantry, still firing from 400 meters behind the tanks, had apparently abandoned the attack. Second-line forces seemed to have pulled far back, northeast of the lake.   Several dozen Soviet bombers struck Takenouchi's left-wing battalion around 14:30 and lost one plane to machine-gun fire. At the same time, 50 Soviet tanks closed to 800 meters. Engaging this armored formation were battalion guns, heavy field artillery, and mountain artillery attached to the sector unit, as well as heavy weapons firing from the neighboring battalion. In succession the tanks were knocked out, perhaps 20 in all. Under cover of artillery and bombing, a battalion of Soviet infantry, who had been advancing behind the tanks, got as close as 30 or 40 meters before being checked by guns firing from the Nanpozan area and by the vigorous resistance of the defenders. The enemy withdrew 600 meters and began to dig in. T. Sato noted at 19:00 that, although the Russians on the right and left sectors seemed to have sustained considerable losses, they apparently were "planning something at point-blank range in front of our positions." The 73rd Infantry would therefore cope with a twilight or night attack by the one battalion and several tanks immediately facing it. On 06:08, immediately after large-scale air attacks involving four-engine bombers between noon and 14:00, enemy barrages began. Enemy artillery positions, 6,000–7,000 meters away, were not engaged by the Japanese since their gunners were trained only at 1,000 meters. Longer ranges were ineffective, would betray the guns, and would waste ammunition. Near 16:00 50 tanks appeared at 3,000 meters, and infantry could also be seen, wearing high boots and marching around the lake. Although the Russians may have closed to 200 or 300 meters, Tominaga received no impression that their foot soldiers were particularly aggressive. Soviet armored tactics were poor: some tanks were moving, some stopped, but they did their firing from rises, which made them easy targets. Perhaps it was because of the terrain, undulating and swampy. Without armor-piercing rounds, the Japanese guns could not penetrate the heaviest armor, so they aimed at the treads or at the belly when the tank was on a rise. Tominaga's weapons were aided by rapid-fire pieces and machine guns and by the 15-cm howitzers from across the river. Of the ten targets which came within effective range, Tominaga's battery claimed five light tanks. Major Takenouchi remembered a tank-led Soviet attack that day on Takenouchi's sector. The enemy infantry deployed in good order four kilometers from the defenses. As the formations drew closer, the Japanese counted more than 40 tanks and 3,000 ground troops. The commander knew he had a serious problem, for there were only 20 antitank shells for the rapid-fire guns. When the Russians got within 4,000 meters, the Japanese opened fire with all available heavy weapons. The attackers hit the ground and continued to advance in creeping formation, although the terrain consisted of paddy fields. All the Japanese could see were Russians, wearing reddish-purple trousers and carrying rifles, deployed every 200 meters behind the front lines and apparently exhorting the soldiers. These must have been the "enforcers." The Japanese let the tanks close to 800 meters before opening fire with their precious antitank ammunition. Both the lead and the last tanks were knocked out, but there were by now only four or five shells left, and the firing had to be stopped. Fortunately for the Japanese, the tanks never again advanced, perhaps because of the wet terrain. The Soviet infantry, however, pressed forward tenaciously all day and wormed their way close to the front edge of the barbed wire under cover of artillery and machine guns. Throughout the day, pleas for reinforcement were made frequently by the two Japanese line companies, but the battalion had no reserves, only the few soldiers in the command team. Requests were met with the reply to "hold on for a while; help is coming." Luckily, there was no close-quarter fighting by the time night fell, but the Russians did lay down concerted machine-gun fire after dark. When dawn broke without a Soviet assault, Major Takenouchi surmised that the barrage of machine-gun fire laid down by Russian infantry the evening before must have been intended to cover disengagement from the lines or to check a Japanese attack. Now, in daylight, Russian assault troops which had closed to the entanglements the day before had pulled back to a distance of 400 or 500 meters and could be seen constructing positions. At 19:10 Morimoto warned that while the Soviet offensive had bogged down, "all units are to be wary of attacks after twilight and are to crush them in good time." Ito, in charge at Changkufeng, was consequently alert, although regimental headquarters did not particularly share his concern. Ito had only two infantry squads from the 6th Company and Hisatsune's regimental gun battery, 121 men in all. A little after 20:00, Ito received a report from lookouts that enemy troops were advancing onto the southern skirt. At 20:30 two Soviet companies attacked the advanced lines, hurling grenades. One Japanese squad was almost wiped out; "they died heroic deaths, leaping into a hostile force which outnumbered them 20:1." Immediately, the Russians surged toward the main Japanese positions farther up the hill, while other strong elements sought to encircle the crest on the left. Accompanying the Soviet troops were "wardens." From north, east, and south the Japanese defenses were being overrun, and the regimental guns were in jeopardy. Wounded men fell back and down the hill, one by one. Lieutenant Hisatsune personally sought to repulse the Russians. Taking his command team, a dozen men under a master sergeant, and the two regimental gun squads which possessed only captured rifles, he led a desperate charge at 21:10. With fixed bayonets, the Japanese rushed forward, yelling loudly and hurling rocks, since there were not enough grenades. The Russians retreated in confusion, pursued by the Japanese. Hisatsune cut down several Russians, was wounded badly by grenades, but plunged into the enemy one last time before meeting a "matchlessly heroic death" at 21:40. Almost all of the noncoms and soldiers fell with him. Suddenly, at 21:20, Ito's antitank squad leader staggered to the 75th Regiment command post at Fangchuanting, his face mangled. "Changkufeng is in danger! Avenge us!" Nishimura and the reinforcements had to run 1,200 meters to reach the hill. Major Ichimoto also worked desperately to retrieve men from logistical chores; somehow he assembled 45. Grabbing every grenade available at the command post, Ichimoto ran with his men to the relief of Changkufeng. Next, Regimental Aide Suko sent 10 soldiers, the last being headquarters clerks and runners. When 16 men from the 2nd Company turned up, having delivered their supplies, Suko rushed them out, also. At regimental headquarters there now remained only a dozen soldiers and one heavy machine gun. By then, the Russians had climbed up and across Changkufeng peak and were pushing halfway down the Japanese slope of the hill. Enemy machine guns fired fiercely, but it was mainly grenades that felled Murakoshi's unit; although few were killed, half of the lead platoon was wounded. Murakoshi, struck by a grenade fragment, tied a cloth around his knee and kept on running. Clinging to Changkufeng, Ito now had little more than 50 men left—only seven of his own soldiers, the rest gunners. The latter had lost their pieces, however, and had never been armed with rifles in the first place. The survivors had to use stones, picks, and shovels to grapple with the foe in the trenches.  A little before 22:00, the 17-man contingent under Nishimura arrived. Ten minutes later, Ichimoto rushed up with his 45 men, bunched closely. The survivors, inferior to the reinforcements in numbers, were heartened immensely. Soon afterward, at 22:30, the regimental warrant officer, Nishizawa, caught up with another dozen soldiers, and Murakoshi brought 16 more at 23:00. Wild fighting ensued, furious grenade exchanges, the crisscrossing of fire, and shouts and flashes. Ichimoto remembered that by the time he arrived, the last remnants of Ito's company were fighting hand-to-hand in the trenches on the north side in utter darkness. Thirty meters from the peak, he and Nishimura scouted the situation. Then, having combined the 120 reinforcements into one line, Ichimoto drew his sword and led the charge. In the constant flashes, shapes could be discerned rather well. The Russian machine guns were firing "crazily," all tracers, probably to warn away their own troops. But the firing was very high, sometimes ten meters over the heads of the Japanese, perhaps because of the darkness, the 40-degree slope near the crest, and the angle of the guns. Much of the fire was considerably lower, but the Japanese had only to observe the roots of the tracer fire and stay down, ducking behind boulders. The Soviets had been committing new troops steadily, and a considerable amount of heavy weapons had been emplaced. Near midnight the Russians were driven south, down the cliff, but most of the Japanese had been killed or wounded, and ammunition was exhausted. The mere dozen unscathed survivors were pushed back, but Master Sergeant Isobe and his platoon from Inokuma's company reached the crest in the nick of time at 02:00. With this reinforcement, Ichimoto led a new charge and again drove the enemy below the cliff.  At 22:50 P.M., Inokuma set out with only 49 men, crossed the border, and headed for the enemy's rear. First to be encountered, probably at 01:00, were several dozen Soviet soldiers, armed with machine guns, who were surprised and almost destroyed, abandoning more than 20 corpses. Inokuma veered north along Khasan, cutting down Russian phone lines on the way. The Japanese detected no evidence of enemy retreat. Instead, voices and the sound of oars on the lake could be heard from the eastern foot of Changkufeng, perhaps they came from Soviet reinforcements. Inokuma decided that the best course would be to plunge ahead and take the Russians by surprise. On his own initiative, he began his new operation, although by now he had lost permanent touch with the assault teams. At 02:00, Inokuma's unit broke silently through the "imperfect" lines of barbed wire and charged through another enemy force of company size which was equipped with machine guns. Next, Inokuma directed an attack against a concentration just behind the company location, a unit estimated to number two battalions massing west of the Khasan crossing. The Russians were "stunned" by the assault. According to Akaishizawa, the enemy were killing their own men by wild firing. A portion fled north, leaving over 30 bodies behind. At the same time, the foe called down fire from all areas, causing very heavy Japanese casualties. Inokuma charged, managed to scatter the foe, and seized the cliff. By now he had only a half-dozen men left. His own sword had been shattered and his pistol ammunition exhausted; he picked up a Russian rifle and bayoneted several enemy soldiers. Now the Soviet troops, who had fallen back once, were approaching again from the right rear. Inokuma charged once more, shouting. The Russians retreated to the foot of the heights on the northeast. Daybreak was near. Already hit several times, Inokuma sought to resume the attack, this time from the rear of hostile forces desperately engaging Ichimoto's elements on Changkufeng crest. Akaishizawa said his last orders were, "Ito is just ahead. Charge on!" Although he had only a few soldiers left, Inokuma was trying to move forward when a bullet or a grenade fragment struck him in the head, and he died at 03:00. Sergeant Okumura, although wounded seriously, had remained with Inokuma to the last and defended the positions that had been reached. He saw to it that Inokuma's corpse was recovered first and next struggled to evacuate the wounded. Only then did he withdraw. Around 07:00, Okumura got back to Fangchuanting with one unscathed and two badly wounded soldiers. A day later, the seriously injured but indestructible M. Saito appeared at the regiment command post, somehow dragging a rifle and light machine gun with his one good arm, for "we were always trained to respect our weapons." It was estimated that, during the fighting throughout 6 August, the Russians lost 1,500 killed and wounded as well as 40 tanks knocked out in K. Sato's right sector alone. Japanese casualties were heavy on the 6th. The 75th Infantry lost three officers; 44 enlisted men were killed and 85 wounded. In the engineer platoon seven were killed and five wounded out of 19 men. The 54 killed and 90 wounded in the right sector amounted to 17 percent of the 843 men available. 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. Japanese leadership under Colonel Sato assigned Nakano's 75th Regiment for a dawn assault, seizing Hill 52 and Shachaofeng despite fierce Soviet counterattacks,tanks, aircraft, and heavy artillery. Across the front, sustained bombardment, shifting fire, and nocturnal maneuvers characterize the period. Yet the crest endured, losses mounting but resolve unbroken, until the sun dipped and the hillside remained stubbornly Japanese

In this episode of Explaining History, Nick explores how different nations remember the Second World War, focusing on the stark contrast between American triumphalism and European melancholy.Drawing on Keith Lowe's brilliant book Prisoners of History, we delve into the cultural psychology behind monuments like the Iwo Jima Memorial. Why does America view its soldiers as "freedom warriors" and saints, while Europe often builds monuments to victims? We unpack the concept of "The Greatest Generation" and ask whether this mythology obscures the darker realities of the Pacific War.Nick also reflects on the "secular religion" of remembrance in Britain, the politicization of the poppy, and how the far-right has co-opted the memory of the war for modern nativist agendas. From the Blitz to Pearl Harbor, this episode examines how nations tell stories about themselves through stone and bronze.Plus: Stay tuned for updates on our upcoming live masterclasses for history students in early 2026!Key Topics:The Cult of Remembrance: How the poppy became politicized in 21st-century Britain.American Mythology: Why the US views WWII through a lens of heroism rather than trauma.Iwo Jima: The story behind the iconic photograph and the monument that immortalizes it.Monuments as Identity: How statues shape national narratives of victimhood and victory.Books Mentioned:Prisoners of History by Keith LoweThe Second World War by Antony Beevor (referenced contextually)Explaining History helps you understand the 20th Century through critical conversations and expert interviews. We connect the past to the present. If you enjoy the show, please subscribe and share.▸ Support the Show & Get Exclusive ContentBecome a Patron: patreon.com/explaininghistory▸ Join the Community & Continue the ConversationFacebook Group: facebook.com/groups/ExplainingHistoryPodcastSubstack: theexplaininghistorypodcast.substack.com▸ Read Articles & Go DeeperWebsite: explaininghistory.org Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Last time we spoke about the Japanese Victory over Changkufeng. Japan's generals hatched a plan: strike at night, seize the peak, then bargain if need be. Colonel Sato, steady as a compass, chose Nakano's brave 75th Regiment, selecting five fearless captains and a rising star, Nakajima, to lead the charge. Ahead, scouts and engineers threaded a fragile path through darkness, while distant Soviet tanks rumbled like distant thunder. At 2:15 a.m., wire breached and soldiers slipped over the slope. The crest resisted with brutal tenacity, grenades flashed, machine guns spit fire, and leaders fell. Yet by 5:15 a.m. dawn painted the hill in pale light, and Japanese hands grasped the summit. The dawn assault on nearby Hill 52 and the Shachaofeng corridor followed, with Takeshita's and Matsunobe's units threading through fog, fire, and shifting trenches. Narukawa's howitzers answered the dawn with measured fury, silencing the Soviets' early artillery as Japanese infantry pressed forward. By daybreak, the Russians were driven back, their lines frayed and retreating toward Khasan. The price was steep: dozens of officers dead or injured, and a crescent of smoke and memory left etched on every face.    #181 The Russian Counter Offensive over the Heights Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After admitting the loss of Changkufeng and Shachaofeng by dawn on 31 July, the Russian government issued a communique the next day asserting that Soviet troops had "hurled back a Japanese division… after a two-day battle" involving tanks, artillery, and aircraft. Some hours after the Japanese penetration, Soviet regulars rushed to the scene and drove out the invaders. Japanese losses amounted to 400 men; Soviet losses were 13 killed and 55 wounded. On Soviet soil, the Japanese abandoned five cannons, 14 machine guns, and 157 rifles, while the Russians admitted losing one tank and one gun. A Soviet reconnaissance pilot may have fallen into Japanese hands after bailing out. "Both before and during the Japanese attack… Soviet troops did not once cross the Manchukuoan frontier,which deprived them of the possibility of surrounding or outflanking the invaders." By 1 August, Russian ground forces were deployed and the Soviet Air Force took action. Soviet aircraft appeared at 24:30 to reconnoiter. Soon after, more than ten planes flew in formation, launching strikes against forward units. Eight sorties, light bombers and fighters, roughly 120–150 aircraft in flights of two or three dozen, bombed and strafed. Raids were conducted by as many as 30 planes, though no Soviet losses were reported. The Russians also hit targets on the Korean side of the Tumen. The 75th Regiment judged that the Soviet Air Force sought only to intimidate. Russian planes dropped several dozen bombs on the Kyonghun bridge, but the span was not struck; damage was limited to the railway, producing an impression of severity that was misleading. The lack of air cover troubled the troops most. Japanese casualties on 1 August were modest: three men wounded in the 75th Infantry, and one wounded and a horse killed in the 76th. However the three Japanese battalions expended over 15,000 machine-gun and 7,000 rifle rounds that day. The appearance of Soviet air power at Changkufeng drew anxious international attention. Shanghai reports electrified observers, who anticipated that major Russo-Japanese hostilities would transform the China campaign overnight. Some observers were openly dismayed, foreseeing a prolongation of the mainland war with potential benefits to Soviet interests. Japanese Army spokesmen sought to downplay the situation. Officers in Hsinking told correspondents that the raids, while serious, represented only a face-saving measure. The Red Army was reportedly attempting to compensate for losses at Changkufeng and other disputed positions, but aside from the bombings, the frontier remained quiet. If the Russians were serious, observers noted, they would have bombed the vital Unggi railway bridge, which remained untouched; raids focused on minor bridges, with limited damage. In Tokyo, foreign observers believed the appearance of about 50 Soviet heavy bombers over North Korea signaled an extension of the incidents and that the Japanese government was taking urgent measures. Military leaders decided not to escalate but prepared for emergencies. The Korea Army Headquarters denied Soviet bombing of Harbin in Manchuria or Najin and Chongjin in Korea. Regarding retaliation, an American correspondent reported that the Japanese military had no intention of bombing Russian territory. Although Soviet use of aircraft introduced a new dimension of danger, the main efforts remained ground-based on both sides. After Japanese troops cleared Changkufeng and Shachaofeng, the Russians appeared to be redeploying to contract their defensive frontage; no troops or works remained west of Khasan. Four or five Russian infantry companies and ten artillery pieces stood between the lake and Paksikori, while the main forces, with numerous gun sites, were concentrated west of Novokievsk. On the Kwantung Army front in southeast Manchuria, no changes were observed. "The Russians were apparently shocked by their defeat at Changkufeng and must suddenly have resorted to negative, conservative measures." Korea Army Headquarters assessed the situation as of the evening of 31 July: "The enemy must fear a Japanese advance into the Novokievsk plain and therefore is concentrating his main forces in that district. Our interests require that we anticipate any emergency, so we must prepare the necessary strength in the Kyonghun region and reinforce positions at Wuchiatzu."  At 20:45 on the 31st, the 19th Division received a detailed message from the Hunchun garrison commander describing his northward deployments. Suetaka was heartened; he "earnestly desired to bring about the end of the incident as a result of the fighting of 30–31 July but was equally resolved to defend the border firmly, based on Japanese interpretation of the Hunchun pact, in case the Soviet side did not perform intensive self-reflection." First, Suetaka issued instructions from Kyonghun at 8:15 on the 31st via K. Sato: "It is our intention that Changkufeng and the high ground northwest of Shachaofeng be secured, as well as the high ground south of Shachaofeng if possible. Enemy attacks are to be met at our positions, but you are not to pursue far." Second, Colonel Tanaka was instructed not to fire as long as Russian artillery did not bombard friendly forces. "Except for preparing against counterassaults, your actions will be cautious. In particular, harassing fire against inhabited places and residents is prohibited." Suetaka was finally armed with formal authority, received at 22:05 on 1 August. He did not delay in implementing it. At 23:00 he ordered the immediate rail movement of strong reinforcements: the alerted infantry brigade headquarters, as well as four infantry battalions and the remaining mountain artillery battalion. Thus, Suetaka could deploy forward not only the forces he had requested but also a brigade-level organization to assume control of the now sizeable combat elements massed at the front for "maneuvers." Earlier that afternoon he had already moved his division's message center forward to the Matsu'otsuho heights at the Tumen, and he regularly posted at least one staff officer there so that the center could function as the division's combat headquarters. An additional matter of explosive potential was built into the divisional order: provision of Japanese Air Force cover for rail movements forward, although use of aircraft had been prohibited by all higher headquarters; Nakamura intended only ground cover. At the front, Japanese units spent most of their time consolidating their hard-won positions. By 3 on 1 August, a column of Soviet forces with vehicles was observed moving from the east side of Khasan. Late in the day, the division received an extremely important telegram from the 2nd (Intelligence) Section of the Kwantung Army: "According to a special espionage report from our OSS in Khabarovsk city, Red Army authorities there have decided to retake the high ground along Changkufeng." From other intelligence, the Kwantung Army concluded that the Russians were rebuilding in the Novokievsk region. Frequent movements observed immediately to the rear of the Soviet battle zone caused K. Sato to grow apprehensive about a dawn counterattack on the 1st, and he reinforced Changkufeng with the 6th Company. The second of August was marked by continuation of Soviet air attacks and the anticipated Russian counteroffensive. According to Japanese intelligence, Marshal Blyukher had arrived in Khabarovsk, and Lieutenant General Sokolov was in Voroshilov. An offensive buildup, estimated at about 3,000 men plus tanks and guns, was reported in the Kozando area by evening on the 1st. Hirahara, commanding the battalion at Changkufeng, grew concerned about Hill 52. With day's end approaching, he reinforced the defenses further and ordered the battalion medical officer to establish a dressing station at Fangchuanting. Around 15:00 Soviet artillery began firing at forward areas, especially gun positions; the bombardments were described as severe. Japanese artillery sought to conserve ammunition, firing only at worthwhile, short-range targets. Main Russian ground actions focused on the far-right (Hill 52) and far-left (Shachaofeng) sectors, not Changkufeng. In line with Hirahara's orders, two infantry companies and four heavy machine guns were moved by 8:00 from Changkufeng to the heights 800 meters southeast. Soviet heavy artillery pounded the zone between Fangchuanting and Hill 52; observing the enemy became difficult. Russian planes engaged at 9:00 fighters, then bombers, to soften defenses and gun positions. Meanwhile, the Soviets deployed firepower southeast of Khasan, while two infantry battalions and more than ten tanks advanced through the pines on the western slopes. Japanese regimental guns and two machine-gun platoons at Hill 52 attacked the enemy heavy machine guns and neutralized them. By 10:00 the Russians had advanced with heavy weapons to the high ground 800 meters from Hill 52. From Changkufeng, the battalion guns engaged heavy weapons. Hirahara moved with the engineers and battalion guns to the heights to which he had transferred reinforcements earlier, took command, and prepared an assault. Initially, Soviet troops advanced in formation, but after cresting a dip, they dispersed and moved onto the high ground opposite Hill 52. Heavily armed, they drew within 700 meters, with artillery and heavy machine guns providing coverage. By 10:00 Sato requested Shiozawa's mountain guns across the Tumen to unleash a barrage against Hill 52's front. For about half an hour, the battery fired. By 10:30, the Soviet advance grew listless. Believing the moment ripe, Hirahara deployed his men to charge the foe's right wing, ordering rapid movement with caution against eastern flank fire. On the heights north of Hill 52, Inagaki watched the struggle; with the telephone out and the situation urgent, he brought up firepower on his own initiative. Taking the main body of the 1st Machine Gun Company, along with the battalion guns, he moved out at noon, making contact with the 10th Company on Hill 52 around 14:00, where the Japanese machine guns and battalion guns joined the fray. The Russians, losing momentum, were checked by Japanese heavy weapons and by mountain guns from Hill 82. Hirahara's main battalion advanced onto the high ground north of Hill 52 around noon. By 15:00, two enemy companies began to fall back, climbing the western slopes of Hill 29 as the main forces retreated piecemeal to a dip. By 16:00, Suetaka observed that his units were continuing to secure their positions and were "gradually breaking the hostile intention." Despite heat and rain, front-line troops showed fatigue but remained vigilant. Between 11:00 and 16;00, Sato inspected the lines and directed defensive positions, particularly at Hill 52. After a poor initial performance, the Russians awaited reinforcements before attempting another assault on Hill 52. They moved up a mechanized corps, and by 15:00 50 tanks massed east of Maanshan. Around 17:00, the Russians began moving south along the high ground across Khasan. Another two Soviet battalions advanced along the Tumen hills, led by armor. Hirahara anticipated an assault at twilight, especially after 18:00, when nine bombers struck Hill 52. Earlier, Takeshita had received reports from the antitank commander, Lieutenant Saito, that at 17:00 several enemy tanks and three infantry battalions were advancing from Hill 29. Convinced of an imminent Soviet strike, Takeshita ordered the defense to conceal its efforts and to annihilate the foe with point-blank fire and hand-to-hand fighting. He sought to instill confidence that hostile infantry could not reach the positions. Before 19:00, the enemy battalions came within effective range, and Japan opened with all available firepower. Rapid-fire antitank guns set the lead tank alight; the remaining tanks were stopped. Support came from Hisatsune's regimental guns and two antitank gun squads atop Changkufeng. The Russian advance was checked. By nightfall, Soviet elements had displaced heavy weapons about 400 meters from Japanese positions. As early as 16:00, Suetaka ordered a mountain artillery squad to cross the river. Sato told Takeshita at 7:30 that there would be a night attack against Hill 52. Takeshita was to annihilate the foe after allowing them to close to 40–50 meters. The Russians did mount a night assault and pressed close between 8 and 9 p.m. with three battalions led by four tanks. The main force targeted Takeshita; all ten Russian heavy machine guns engaged that side. Japanese machine guns and battalion guns joined the fray. The Russians pressed within 30 meters, shouted "Hurrah! Hurrah!" and hurled grenades before advancing a further 15 meters. The Japanese repelled the first waves with grenades and emplaced weapons, leaving light machine guns and grenade dischargers forward. Soviet illuminating shells were fired to enable closer approaches within 100 meters. Japanese grenade-discharger fire blasted the forces massed in the dead space before the works. While the Hill 52 night attack collapsed, other Russian units, smaller in strength and with one tank leading, moved against the hill on the left that the Japanese had not yet occupied that morning. The Russians advanced along the Khasan slope north of Hill 52, came within point-blank range, and shouted but did not charge. By 22:00, the Japanese, supported by machine guns, had checked the foe. Thereupon, the 6th Company, now under a platoon leader, Narusawa, launched a counterattack along the lake. "The enemy was bewildered and became dislocated. Buddies were heard shouting to one another, and some could be seen hauling away their dead." The Soviet troops held back 300–400 meters and began to dig in. Sato decided artillery should sweep the zone in front of Hill 52. At 21:30, he requested support, but the mountain guns could not open fire. Still, by 23:00, not a shadow of an enemy soldier remained on the Hill 52 front, where the Japanese spent the night on alert. In the northern sector, eight Russian tanks crossed the Japanese-claimed border at 5:25 on 2 August and moved south to a position northwest of Shachaofeng. Around 7 Russian artillery opened fire to "prepare" the Japanese while a dozen heavy bombers attacked. An hour later, the ground offensive began in earnest, with one and a half to two infantry battalions, a dozen machine guns, and several tanks. Supporting Takenouchi's left wing were several batteries of mountain artillery and two heavy batteries. Well-planned counterfire stopped the offensive. There was little change north of Shachaofeng and in the southeast, where Kanda's company held its positions against attack. On Takenouchi's front, Akaishizawa notes 120-degree daytime heat and nighttime chill. Men endured damp clothes and mosquitoes. To keep warm at night, soldiers moved about; during the day they sought shade and camouflage with twigs and weeds. No defense existed against cold night rain. Nocturnal vigilance required napping by day when possible, but the intense sun drained strength. For three days, Imagawa's company had only wild berries and dirty river water to eat. At 6:00 on 2 August, Colonel Tanaka exhorted his artillery to "exalt maximum annihilation power at close range, engage confirmed targets, and display firepower that is sniperlike—precise, concentrated, and as swift as a hurricane." Tanaka devised interdiction sectors for day and night attacks. At 10:30, the artillery laid down severe fire and eventually caused the enemy assault to wither. Around 24:40, Rokutanda's battalion detected a Russian battalion of towed artillery moving into positions at the skirt of Maanshan. When the first shells hit near the vanguard, a commander on horseback fled; the rest dispersed, abandoning at least eight artillery wagons and ten vehicles. Suetaka, observing from the Kucheng BGU, picked up the phone and commended the 3rd Battalion. Japanese casualties on 2 August were relatively light: ten men killed and 15 wounded. Among the killed, the 75th Infantry lost seven, the 76th Infantry two, and the engineers one. Among the wounded, the 75th suffered nine and the 76th six. Infantry ammunition was expended at an even higher rate than on 30–31 July. In Hirahara's battalion area, small arms, machine guns, ammunition, helmets, knapsacks, and gas masks were captured. A considerable portion of the seized materiel was employed in subsequent combat, as in the case of an antitank gun and ammunition captured on 31 July. Soviet casualties to date were estimated at 200–250, including 70 abandoned corpses. Twelve enemy tanks had been captured, and five more knocked out on 1–2 August; several dozen heavy bombers and about 5,000 Soviet ground troops were involved in the concerted offensives.  Nevertheless, reports of an imminent Soviet night attack against Hill 52 on 2–3 August alarmed Suetaka as much as his subordinates. Shortly after 20:00 accompanied by his intelligence officer, Suetaka set out for the hill, resolved to direct operations himself. Somewhat earlier, the division had sent Korea Army Headquarters a message, received by 18:30, reflecting Suetaka's current outlook: 30 to 40 Soviet planes had been bombing all sectors since morning, but losses were negligible and morale was high. The division had brought up additional elements in accord with army orders, and was continuing to strive for nonenlargement, but was "prepared firmly to reject the enemy's large-scale attacks." Impressed by the severity of the artillery and small-arms fire, Suetaka deemed it imperative "quickly to mete out a decisive counterassault and thus hasten the solution of the incident." But Japanese lines were thinly held and counterattacks required fresh strength. This state of affairs caused Suetaka to consider immediate commitment of the reinforcements moving to the front, although the Korea Army had insisted on prior permission before additional troops might cross the Tumen. Suetaka's customary and unsurprising solution was again to rely on his initiative and authorize commitment of every reinforcement unit. Nearest was T. Sato's 73rd Regiment, which had been ordered the night before to move up from Nanam. Under the cover of two Japanese fighters, these troops had alighted from the train the next morning at Seikaku, where they awaited orders eagerly.   K. Sato was receiving reports about the enemy buildup. At 20:10 orders were given to the 73rd Regiment to proceed at once to the Matsu'otsuho crossing and be prepared to support the 75th. Involved were T. Sato's two battalions, half of the total infantry reinforcements. Suetaka had something else in mind: his trump, Okido's 76th Infantry. At 23:40 he ordered this regiment, coming up behind the 73rd, to proceed to Huichungyuan on the Manchurian side of the Tumen, via Kyonghun, intercept the enemy, and be ready to go over to the offensive. On the basis of the information that the division planned to employ Okido's regiment for an enveloping attack, K. Sato quickly worked out details. He would conceal the presence of the reinforcements expected momentarily from the 73rd Regiment and would move Senda's BGU and Shimomura's battalion to Huichungyuan to cover the advance of the 76th Regiment and come under the latter's control. Japanese forces faced the danger of Soviet actions against Changkufeng from the Shachaofeng front after midnight on 2 August. Takenouchi had been ready to strike when he learned that the enemy had launched an attack at 01:00 against one of his own companies, Matsunobe's southwest of Shachaofeng. Therefore, Takenouchi's main unit went to drive off the attackers, returning to its positions at 02:30. The Russians tried again, starting from 04:00 on 03 August. Strong elements came as close as 300 meters; near 05:00 Soviet artillery and heavy weapons fire had grown hot, and nine enemy fighters made ineffective strafing passes. By 06:30 the Russians seemed thwarted completely. Hill 52 was pummeled during the three battles on 2 August. Taking advantage of night, the Russians had been regrouping; east of the hill, heavy machine guns were set up on the ridgeline 500 meters away. From 05:00 on 03 August, the Russians opened up with heavy weapons. Led by three tanks, 50 or 60 infantrymen then attacked from the direction of Hill 29 and reached a line 700–800 meters from the Japanese defenses. Here the Russian soldiers peppered away, but one of their tanks was set ablaze by gunfire and the other two were damaged and fled into a dip. Kamimori's mountain artillery reinforcements reached Nanpozan by 07:15 on 03 August. Tanaka issued an order directing the battalion to check the zone east of Hill 52 as well as to engage artillery across Khasan. A site for the supply unit was to be selected beyond enemy artillery range; on the day before, Russian shells had hit the supply unit of the 3rd Mountain Artillery Battalion, killing two men and 20 horses. The exposed force was ordered to take cover behind Crestline 1,000 meters to the rear. After 09:00 on 03 August, the artillery went into action and Japanese morale was enhanced. Near 09:00, Soviet bombardment grew pronounced, accompanied by bomber strikes. The Japanese front-line infantry responded with intensive fire, supported by mountain pieces and the regimental guns atop Changkufeng. Enemy forces stayed behind their heavy weapons and moved no further, while their casualties mounted. At 11:00 the Russians began to fall back, leaving only machine guns and snipers. One reason the Soviets had been frustrated since early morning was that K. Sato had seen the urgency of closing the gap midway between Changkufeng and Hill 52 (a site called Scattered Pines) and had shifted the 2nd Company from Changkufeng. Between 06:00 and 07:40, the company fired on Soviet troops which had advanced north of Hill 52, and inflicted considerable casualties. A corporal commanding a grenade launcher was cited posthumously for leading an assault which caused the destruction of three heavy machine guns. In the afternoon, the Japanese sustained two shellings and a bomber raid. Otherwise, the battlefield was quiet, since Russian troops had pulled back toward Hill 29 by 15:00 under cover of heavy weapons and artillery. At Hill 52, however, defense posed a problem, for each barrage smashed positions and trenches. During intervals between bombardments and air strikes, the men struggled to repair and reinforce the facilities. Changkufeng was again not attacked by ground troops during the day but was hit by planes and artillery. Trifling support was rendered by the mountain gun which had been moved to the Manchurian side of the Tumen. Japanese infantry reinforcements were on the way. By 23:00 on 02 August, T. Sato had left Shikai. His 73rd Regiment pushed forward along roads so sodden that the units had to dismantle the heavy weapons for hauling. The rate of advance was little more than one kilometer per hour, but finally, at 05:20 on 03 August, he reached Chiangchunfeng with the bulk of two battalions. The esprit of the other front-line troops "soared." K. Sato, who was commanding all forces across the Tumen pending Morimoto's setting up of headquarters for the 37th Brigade, had T. Sato take over the line to the left of Changkufeng, employing Takenouchi's old unit and the 73rd Regiment to cover Shachaofeng. T. Sato set out with his battalions at 06:00 amid heavy rain. By 07:30, under severe fire, he was in position to command the new left sector. According to division orders to Morimoto, this zone was to include the heights south and northwest of Shachaofeng, but, in the case of the former, it was "permissible to pull back and occupy high ground west of the heights south of Shachaofeng." T. Sato contemplated using his regiment to encircle the foe on the north side of the lake, while Okido's 76th Infantry formed the other prong. Most of the day afterward, Soviet artillery was active; the Japanese responded with barrages of their own. Eventually, from 15:30, the entire enemy front-line force in this sector began falling back under violent covering fire. Morimoto's initial operations order, received at 18:00, advised T. Sato officially that he was coming under command of the 37th Brigade. The night of 03–04 August passed with the units uneasy, striving to conduct security and reconnaissance while working on the battered defenses. Total Japanese casualties on 3 August were light again: six men killed and ten wounded, four of the dead and seven of the wounded being suffered by the 75th Infantry, the rest by Takenouchi's battalion. Ammunition was expended at a lower rate than on the preceding day. The Japanese War Ministry reported no significant change since nightfall on 03 August. Thereafter, the battlefield seemed to return to quiescence; Japanese morale was high. In the press abroad, Changkufeng attracted overriding attention. The world was no longer talking of "border affrays." Three-column headlines on page 1 of the New York Times announced: "Soviet Hurls Six Divisions and 30 Tanks into Battle with Japanese on Border, 2 Claims Conflict, Tokyo Reports Victory in Manchukuo and Foes' Big Losses, Moscow Asserts It Won." The startling claim that six Soviet divisions were in action seemed to have been supplied for external consumption by Hsinking as well as Seoul. According to Nakamura Bin, the Russians employed 4,000 to 5,000 men supported by 230 tanks. Although Japanese casualties were moderate, Soviet artillery bombardment had stripped the hills of their lush summer grass. According to the uninformed foreign press, "the meager information showed both sides were heavily armed with the most modern equipment. The Russians were using small, fast tanks and the Japanese apparently were forewarned of this type of weapon and were well supplied with batteries of armor-piercing antitank guns." On 03 August the Russians lost 200 men, 15 tanks, and 25 light artillery pieces. One feature of the fighting was Japanese use of "thousands of flares" to expose fog-shrouded enemy ranks during a Soviet night attack. During the "first phase counteroffensive" by the Russians on 2–3 August, the 75th Regiment judged that the enemy's choice of opportunities for attacking was "senseless"; once they started, they continued until an annihilating blow was dealt. "We did not observe truly severe attacking capacity, such as lightning breakthroughs." With respect to tactical methods, the Japanese noted that Soviet offensive deployment was characterized by depth, which facilitated piecemeal destruction. When Russian advance elements suffered losses, replacements were moved up gradually. Soviet artillery fired without linkage to the front-line troops, nor was there liaison between the ground attacks staged in the Shachaofeng and Hill 52 sectors. Since enemy troops fought entirely on their own, they could be driven off in one swoop. Additionally, although 20–30 Russian tanks appeared during the counterattacks, their cooperation with the infantry was clumsy, and the armor was stopped. Soviet use of artillery in mobile warfare was "poorness personified." "Our troops never felt the least concern about hostile artillery forces, which were quite numerous. Even privates scoffed at the incapability of Russian artillery." It seemed that "those enemies who had lost their fighting spirit had the habit of fleeing far." During the combat between 31 July and 03 August, the defeated Russians appeared to fear pursuit and dashed all the way back to Kozando, "although we did not advance even a step beyond the boundary." On 4 August Suetaka prepared a secret evaluation: the enemy attacks by day and night on 2 August were conducted by front-line corps built around the 40th Rifle Division. "In view of the failure of those assaults, the foe is bound to carry out a more purposeful offensive effort, using newly arrived corps reinforcements." Russian actions on 02 August had been the most serious and persistent offensive efforts undertaken since the outset of the incident, but they were about the last by the front-line corps whose immediate jurisdiction lay in the region of the incident. Consequently, the enemy's loss of morale as a result of their defeat on 30–31 July, combined with their lack of unity in attack power, caused the attacks to end in failure. "We must be prepared for the fact that enemy forces will now mount a unified and deliberate offensive, avoiding rash attacks in view of their previous reversal, since large new corps are coming up." 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 the shadowed night, Japan's Sato chose Nakano's 75th to seize a peak, sending five captains and a rising Nakajima into darkness. At 2:15 a.m., they breached wires and climbed the slope; dawn lit a hard-won crest, then Hill 52 and Shachaofeng yielded to resolve and fire. The day wore on with brutal artillery, fluttering bombers, and relentless clashes. By August's edge, casualties mounted on both sides, yet Japanese regiments held fast, repelling night assaults with grit. 

In this episode, we explore the different uses of concentration camps during the second world war in both Axis and Allied nations.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!

This week Seth Paridon and Jon Parshall welcome back their buddy Captain Bill Toti to the show for another round of Pacific War Q&A with emcee Shawn Bergstrom. The guys get into the weeds on a variety of topics sent in by you guys. Hope we did well. Thank you, as always, for sending in the questions this go-round. You guys really know your stuff. More Q&A's in the future as we wade through the stacks of material sent in by the crowd. Check it out to see if your question made the cut. #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #essex #halsey #taskforce38 #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #hollywood #movie #movies #books #mastersoftheair #8thairforce #mightyeighth #100thbombgroup #bloodyhundredth #b17 #boeing #airforce wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #hollywood #movie #movies #books #oldbreed #1stMarineDivision #thepacific #Peleliu #army #marines #marinecorps #worldwar2 #worldwar #worldwarii #leytegulf #battleofleytegulf #rodserling #twilightzone #liberation #blacksheep #power #prisoner #prisonerofwar #typhoon #hurricane #weather #iwojima#bullhalsey #ace #p47 #p38 #fighter #fighterpilot #b29 #strategicstudying #tokyo #boeing #incendiary #usa #franklin #okinawa #yamato #kamikaze #Q&A #questions #questionsandanswers #history #jaws #atomicbomb #nuclear #nationalarchives #nara #johnford #hollywood #fdr #president #roosevelt #doolittle #doolittleraid #pearlharborattack #salvaged #medalofhonor #tarawa #malayalam

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.   If you are a long time listener to the Pacific War week by week podcast over at KNG or viewer of my youtube channel you have probably heard me talk about Tomoyuki Yamashita, the Tiger of Malaya quite often. It goes without saying when it comes to Japanese generals of WW2 he stands out. Not just to me, from the offset of the war he made a large impression on westerners, he achieved incredible feats early on in the war. Now if you look up books about him, you will pretty much only find information in regards to his infamous war crimes trial. Hell it was so infamous the legal doctrine of hierarchical accountability for war crimes, whereby a commanding officer is legally responsible for war crimes and crimes against humanity committed by his subordinates, was created. This is known as the command responsibility or “the Yamashita standard”. His court case was very controversial, he remains a controversial figure, certainly to the people of territories he campaigned in, but I think what can be said of him the most is he was special amongst the Japanese generals. Anyways lets get the show on the road as they say.   So who was Yamashita? When he was 59 years old commanding forces in the Philippines against General Douglas MacArthur, he weighed 220 ls and stood 5 feet 9 inches. His girth pressed out against his green army uniform. He had an egg shaped head, balding, wide spaced eyes and a flat nose. He wore a short mustache, sort of like Hitlers, until it grayed then he shaved it off. He was not a very attractive man, Filipinos referred to him as “old potato face” while Americans called him “a florid, pig faced man”.   Tomobumi Yamashita was born in 1885, he was the second son of Dr. Sakichi Yamashita and Yuu Yamashita in Osugi village, on Shikoku island. Like most males of his day he was indoctrinated into military preparatory school from a young age. Yamashita had no chosen the army as a career, in his words ‘my father suggested the idea, because I was big and healthy, and my mother did not seriously object because she believed, bless her soul, that I would never pass the highly competitive entrance examination. If I had only been cleverer or had worked harder, I would have been a doctor like my brother”Yamashita would graduate from the 18th class of the IJA academy in november of 1905, ranked 16th out of 920 cadets.    In 1908 he was promoted to the rank of Lt and during WW1 he fought against Imperial German and Austro-Hungarian forces in the famous siege of Qingdao, which if you are interested I did an episode over on my Youtube channel about this battle. Its a very overlooked battle, but many histories firsts occurred at it like the first carrier attack. In 1916 he was promoted to captain and attended the 28th class of the Army War college to graduate sixth in his class that year. He also married Hisako Nagayama in 1916, she was the daughter of the retired General Nagayama.    It seems Yamashita's brush against the Germans in 1914 had a huge influence on him, because he became fascinated with Germany and would serve as assistant military attache at Bern and Berlin from 1919-1922. He spent his time in Germany alongside Captain Hideki Tojo, both men would run into each other countless times and become bitter rivals. Both men toured the western front, visiting Hamburg and witnessed first hand the crippling inflation and food prices that came from Germany's defeat. Yamashita said to Tojo then “If Japan ever has to fight any nation, she must never surrender and get herself in a state like this.” He returned to Japan in 1922, was promoted to major and served a few different posts in the Imperial Headquarters and Staff College. Yamashita became a leading member of the Kodoha faction, while Tojo became a leading member of the rival Toseiha faction. In 1927 Yamashita was sent again to Europe, this time to Vienna as a military attache. Just prior to departing he had invested in a business selling thermometers starting by one of his wife's relatives, the business failed horribly and Yamashita was tossed into debt, bailiffs literally came to seize his house. As told to us by his biographer “For a regular officer to have contracted such a debt, however innocently, was a disgrace. He felt he should resign his commission.” Yamashita's brother refused to allow him to quit, instructing him to leave for Vienna, while he resolved his debts. His days in Vienna were the best of his life, professed Yamashita. He studied economics at Vienna university and made friends with a Japanese widow, who introduced him to a German woman named Kitty and they had an affair. This would spring forward his reputation as an eccentric officer. Yamashita was obsessed over hygiene,and refused to eat fruit unless it was thoroughly washed. He avoided ice water, hated dancing and never learnt how to drive a car. One of his most notable quirks was his habit of falling asleep often during meetings where he legendarily would snore. Like I may have said in previous podcast and youtube episodes, this guy was quite a character, often described as a big bear.    Now this is not a full biography on Yamashita so I cant devolve to far into things, such as his first fall from grace. During the February 26th coup incident of 1936, Yamashita was a leading member of the Kodoha faction and helped mediate a peaceful end to the standoff, however in truth he was backing the coup. He simply managed to not get caught red handed at the time doing too much for the mutineers, regardless he lost favor with the outraged Emperor and many young captains whom he loved like sons killed themselves in disgrace. If you want to know more about the February coup of 1936, check out my series on Emperor Hirohito or General Ishawara, they both talk about it in depth and touch upon Yamashita's role a bit.    The coup led to the dissolvement of the Kodoha faction and the dominance of the Toseiha, led by Tojo. Yamashita tried to resign from the IJA, but his superiors dissuade him. He was relegated to a post in Korea, which honestly was a punishment. Yamashita would say “When I was posted to Korea, I felt I had been given a tactful promotion but that in fact my career was over. Even when I was given my first fighting company in North China, I still felt I had no future in the Army, so I was always on the front line, where the bullets flew the thickest. I sought only a place to die.”  He had some time to reflect upon his conduct while in Korea, he began to study Zen Buddhism. He was promoted to Lt General in November of 1937 and when the China war broke out he was one of those speaking out that the incident needed to end swiftly and that peaceful relations must be made with the UK and US. He received a unimportant post in the Kwantung army and in 1938 was assigned command of the IJA 4th division. He led the forces during in northern china against insurgents until he returned to Tokyo in July of 1940. His fellow officers lauded him as Japan's finest general. Meanwhile Tojo had ascended to war minister and one of his first moves was to send a delegation to Germany. Tojo considered Yamashita a ruthless and forceful commander and feared he would become a powerful rival against him one day. Yamashita would go on the record to say then “I have nothing against Tojo, but he apparently has something against me.” You see, Yamashita had no political ambitions, unlike Tojo who was by nature a political monster. “My life, is that of a soldier; I do not seek any other life unless our Emperor calls me.” In late 1940, Tojo asked Yamashita to lead a team of 40 experts on a 6 month train tour of Germany and Italy, a move that kept him out of Tokyo, because Tojo was trying to solidify his political ambitions. This is going to become a looming theme between the two men.   He was presented to Adolf Hitler in January of 1941, passing along messages from Tojo and publicly praising the Fuhrer, though privately he was very unimpressed by the man  “He may be a great orator on a platform, with his gestures and flamboyant way of speaking. But standing behind his desk listening he seems much more like a clerk.” Hitler pressed upon him to push Japan to declare war on Britain and the US. At the time of course Japan was facing China and had two major conflicts with the USSR, thus this was absolutely not in her interest. “My country is still fighting in China, and we must finish that war as soon as possible. We are also afraid that Russia may attack us in Manchuria. This is no time for us to declare war on other countries.” Yamashita hoped to inspect Germany's military techniques and technology to help Japan. Hitler promised open exchanges of information stating “All our secrets are open to you,”, but this would prove to be a lie. “There were several pieces of equipment the Germans did not want us to see. Whenever I tried to persuade the German General Staff to show us things like radar—about which we had a rudimentary knowledge—the conversation always turned to something else.”   Yamashita met with field Marshal Hermann Goring who gave him an overview of the war in europe. Goring would complain about Yamashita falling asleep during lectures and meetings and he believed the man was drunk often. Yamashita met Benito Mussolini in June of 1941 receiving a similar rundown to what he got in Germany. Yamashita visited Kitty in Vienna for a quick fling, but overall the trip deeply impacted Yamashita's resolve that Japan should stay out of the Europeans war and that Germany made a grievous error invading the USSR in June of 1941. This is what he said the members of the commission “You know the results of our inspection as well as I do. I must ask you not to express opinion in favor of expanding the alliance between Japan, Germany and Italy. Never suggest in your report that Japan should declare war on Great Britain and the United States. We must not and cannot rely upon the power of other nations. Japan needs more time, particularly as there may be aggression against us from Russia. We must have time to rebuild our defense system and adjust the whole Japanese war machine. I cannot repeat this to you often enough.” His report was similar, and it really pissed off Tojo who was trying to develop plans for a war against America. Yamashita would then get exiled to Manchuria in July of 1941, but Tojo's resentment towards him could only go so far, because Yamashita was one of their best generals and in his planned war against Britain and America, he would need such a man.   Yamashita's time in Europe reshaped his views on how to conduct war. He saw first hand blitzkrieg warfare, it seems it fascinated him. He consistently urged the implementation of new proposals calling for the streamlining of air arms; to mechanize the Army; to integrate control of the armed forces in a defense ministry coordinated by a chairman of Joint Chiefs of staff; to create a paratroop corps and to employ effective propaganda. Basically he saw what was working for the Germans against the allies and wanted Japan to replicate it. Tojo did not like many of the proposal, hated the fact they were coming from Yamashita, so he obviously was not keen on making them happen. Luckily for Yamashita he would be given a chance to implement some of his ideas in a big way.   On November 6th of 1941, Lt General Yamashita was appointed commander of the 25th Japanese army. His orders were to seize the Malay Peninsula and then the British naval base at Singapore. The Malaya Peninsula snakes 700 miles south of Thailand, a rugged sliver of land that constricts at its narrowest point to about 60 miles wide. It hold mountains that split the peninsula in half, some going as high as 7000 feet. During this time Malaya produced around 40% of the worlds rubber, 60% of its tin, two resources vital for war. At its very southern tip lies Singapore, a diamond shaped island connected to the mainland by a 1115 stone causeway. Singapore's largest asset was its naval base guarding the passage from the Pacific and Indian oceans. Together Malay and Singapore represented the key to controlling what Japan called the Southern Resource Area.   Singapore was known as the gibraltar of the east for good reason. It was a massively fortified naval base. The base had been developed between 1923-1938 and cost 60 million pounds, around 2 billion pounds today. It was 21 square miles, had the largest dry dock in the world, the 3rd largest floating dock and enough fuel tanks to support the entire royal navy for 6 months. She was defended by 15 inch naval guns stationed at the Johre battery, Changi and Buona vista battery. And despite the infamous myth some of you may have heard, these guns were fully capable of turning in all directions including the mainland. For those unaware a myth perpetuated after the fall of Singapore that her large 15 inch guns could not turn to the mainland and that this spelt her doom, no it was not that, it was the fact they mostly had armor piercing shells which are using to hit ships and not land targets. Basically if you fire an armor piercing shell at land it imbeds itself then explodes, while HE shells would have torn any Japanese army to pieces. Alongside the 15 inch monsters, there were countless other artillery pieces such as 9.2 inch guns. By December of 1941 Malaya and Singapore held 164 first line aircraft out of a total of 253 aircraft, but many of the fighters were the obsolete Brewster F2A Buffalo, a pretty slow, fat little beast that could take a licking as it was armored, but against the Zero fighter it was unbelievably outmatched in speed and maneuverability.    The Japanese acquired a major gift prior to the outbreak of war. On november 11th, 1940, the SS Automedon, a German raider attacked the HMS Atlantis which was carrying documents intended for the British far east command. The documents indicated the British fleet was not going to help Singapore; that Britain would not declare war if Thailand was invaded and that Hong Kong was expendable. The Germans gave the documents to the Japanese who were very excited by the information.    Starting in January of 1941, Colonel Masanobu Tsuji led the Taiwan Army Research section based on Formosa to investigate how a campaign could be waged in Malay and Singapore. His findings on the defenses of Malay and Singapore were summed up in these 3 points: 1. Singapore Fortress was solid and strong facing the sea, but vulnerable on the peninsular side facing the Johore Strait;  Newspaper reports of a strong Royal Air Force (RAF) presence were propaganda;  Although British forces in Malaya numbered from five to six divisions (well over 80,000 men), less than half were Europeans.    Now just a little bit about Tsuji as he was to become the chief of staff operations and planning under Yamashita. Tsuji was extremely insubordinate and a political schemer. He was a Toseiha faction fanatic, loyal to Tojo and thus definitely an enemy to Yamashita. Yamashita wrote of Tsuji in his war diary “is egotistical and wily. He is a sly dog and unworthy to serve the country. He is a manipulator to be carefully watched.” Tsuji would go on to have a infamous reputation for ordering atrocities in the name of his superiors, often without them knowing and this would be very much the case under Yamashita. Now using Tsuji's intelligence Yamashita began plans at his HQ at Samah, a port on Hainan island, starting in November of 1941 on how to launch the campaign. He was initially offered 5 divisions for the invasion, but he felt he could accomplish the objective with only three. There are a few reasons why he believed this; first, Tsuji's research suggested the peninsula roads would be the center of the battlefront and that the flanks would extend no more than a km or so to the left or right due to the dense jungle terrain (in fact Yamashita was planning to assault from the jungle specifically); 2nd intelligence indicated the defending troops were not of the highest caliber (the British were busy in Europe thus many of the troops in southeast asia were poorly trained, half were british regulars the rest were Australian, Indian and Malayan); 3rd Yamashita was aware “the Japanese army were in the habit of flinging more troops into the battle than could possibly be maintained” boy oh boy tell that one to the future boys on Guadalcanal. Thus he calculated 3 divisions was the maximum to be fed, equipped and supplied. Based on his recommendations the 25th army was created with 3 divisions; the 5th under Lt General Takuma Matsui; 18th under Lt General Renya Mutaguchi and the Imperial guards division of Lt General Takuma Nishimura. Supporting these would be two regiment of heavy field artillery and the 3rd tank brigade. Something that made Yamashita's campaign quite interesting was the usage and amount of tanks. He was invading with around 200 or so tanks consisting of the Type 95 Ha-Go light tank, type 97 Chi-Ha and Type 89 I-Go medium tanks and Type 97 Te-Ke tankettes. For aircraft he had the 3rd Air division, 459 aircraft strong with an additional 159 aircraft from the IJN to support them. The 3rd air division had a variety of aircraft such as Nakajima Ki-27 Nate's, Nakajima ki-43 Oscars, Kitsubishi ki-51 Sonia's, Kawasaki ki-48 Lily's, Mitsubishi ki-21 sally's, Mitsubishi ki-30 Ann's, Mitsubishi ki-15 babs and Mitsubishi ki-46 dinahs. For the IJN it was the 22nd air flotilla using Mitsubishi G3M1 Nell's, Mitsubishi A5M4 Claudes and some A6M Zeros. To say it was a lot of firepower at his disposal is an understatement, Yamashita was packing heat, heat he could use in a blitzkrieg fashion.   His staff at Samah identified 5 operational objectives: 1 Simultaneous capture of Singora and Patani, Thailand and Kota Bharu, Malaya.  2 Capture of all enemy airfields in southern Thailand and Malaya.  3 Occupation of Kuala Lumpur, Malaya.  4 Occupation of Johore Bahru, and control of Johore Strait.  5 Conquest of Singapore.    Colonel Tsuji, appointed Chief of Operations and Planning for the 25th Army, proposed the following plan which was readily approved:  Land the main strength of the 5th Division simultaneously and without warning at Singora and Patani, and at the same time land a powerful section of the 18th Division to attack Kota Bharu.  The troops disembarked at Singora and Patani to press forward immediately to attack the line of the Perak River Hand capture its bridge and the Alor Star aerodrome.  The troops landed at Kota Bharu to press forward along the eastern coast as far as Kuantan.    The landing at Kota Bharu, the only one in Malaya was expected to be opposed and quite risky. But if it was successful, it would create a useful diversion away from the main force landings in Thailand.   The landings took place around 2:15am local time on December 8th, about an hour and 20 minutes before the attack on Pearl Harbor. The landings went largely unopposed, except at Kota Bahru where the Japanese saw heavy resistance. The British had anticipated this landing point and created operation Matador, a plan to pre-emptively invade southern thailand to secure defensive lines against the Japanese, however this plan was never accepted by British high command for obvious political reasons. But on December 5th, with a Japanese invasion looking certain, suddenly London gave permission to the Far east commanders to decide if Operation matador should be activated or not. The commander in Malaya, General Arthur Percival recommended forestalling it, fearing to violate Thai sovereignty, which ultimately would be the doom of a defense for Malaya.   At the battle of Kota Bharu, the 9th infantry division of Major General Barstow attempted holding off the Japanese from taking the important Kota Bharu airfield. The 8th brigade of Billy Key had fortified the beaches with pillboxes, barbed wire and land mines. The Japanese took heavy losses, but they were able to find gaps and fill them up until Brigadier Key had to ask permission to pull out. The royal air force at Kota Bharu tossed Hudson bombers to hit the troop transports, but it was a suicide mission to do so. Meanwhile the IJA 5th division landed at Pattani and Songkhla in Thailand while the Imperial guards division marched over the border from French Indochina. The Japanese encountered very little resistance, the leader of Thailand Plaek Pibulsonggram had been trying to get assurances from the allies and Japanese all the way up until the invasion, once the Japanese landed he knew his best option was to play nice and sign an armistice. This basically spelt doom for malaya as the Japanese were given access to Thailand's airfields which they used to smash the forward airfields in Malaya.   The first day of aerial encounters were a catastrophe for the British. General Percival would comment “The rapidity with which the Japanese got their air attacks going against our aerodromes was quite remarkable. Practically all the aerodromes in Kelantan, Kedah, Province Wellesley, and Penang, were attacked, and in most cases fighters escorted the bombers. The performance of Japanese aircraft of all types, and the accuracy of their bombing, came as an unpleasant surprise. By the evening our own air force had already been seriously weakened.” Brigadier Key withdrew after causing an estimated 800 casualties upon the Japanese while taking roughly 465. While Kota Bharu was being fought over, Percival unleashed Operation Krohcol, a 2.0 of Matador seeing British forces cross into Thailand to intercept the incoming enemy. It was an absolute disaster, the British attackers were defeated not only by the Japanese 5th division, but some Royal Thai police also defended their territory. The operation had basically become a race to who could seize the important focal point first and the Japanese took it first thus winning decisively. To add to that misery, force Z, consisting of the battleship HMS Prince of Wales,, battlecruiser Repulse and 4 destroyers tried to intercept the Japanese invasion fleet only to be utterly destroyed by overwhelming Japanese airforces.   Within 4 days of the landings, the 5th division advanced from Singora through the town of Jitra to capture the RAF airfield at Alor star, around 100 miles away. Yamashita managed this using flanking techniques that saw his army take town after town and airfield after airfield. There were numerous natural obstacles to the advance such as dense jungles, very long supply lines, torrential rain and heat, but he had a secret weapon, bicycles. At Jitra Percival made his first major stand. Holding Jitra would safeguard the northern airfields of Malaya, but it was a folly to do so as the airfields in question were not provided adequate aircraft and the British lacked something extremely important to be able to defend themselves, tanks. Colonel Tsuji saw the fighting at Jitra first hand and reported “Our tanks were ready on the road, and the twenty or so enemy armored cars ahead were literally trampled underfoot … The enemy armored cars could not escape by running away, and were sandwiched between our medium tanks … It was speed and weight of armor that decided the issue.” The British had spread themselves far too thinly across a 14 mile front with jungle on their right flank and rubber plantations and mangrove swamps to their left. Yamashita used a innovative blitzkrieg like tactic, he combined his air, artillery, tanks and bicycle infantry to punch holes in concentrated attacks forcing allied defenders to withdraw. As Percival would write later in his memoirs “This withdrawal would have been difficult under the most favorable conditions. With the troops tired, units mixed as the result of the fighting, communications broken and the night dark, it was inevitable that orders should be delayed and that in some cases they should never reach the addressees. This is what in fact occurred … the withdrawal, necessary as it may have been, was too fast and too complicated for disorganized and exhausted troops, whose disorganization and exhaustion it only increased”    Yamashita had ingeniously thought of employing large numbers of bicycles for his infantry so they could keep up momentum and speed with his mechanized forces. Oh and he didn't bring thousands of bicycles over to Malaya, the real genius was that they were there ready for him. His intelligence prior to the invasion indicated nearly all civilians in malaya had bicycles, so when the Japanese came over they simply stole them. Half of Yamashitas troops moved in motor vehicles while the rest road on 18,000 bicycles. As noted by Tsuji “With the infantry on bicycles, there was no traffic congestion or delay. Wherever bridges were destroyed the infantry continued their advance, wading across the rivers carrying their bicycles on their shoulders, or crossing on log bridges held up on the shoulders of engineers standing in the stream.” They Japanese overwhelmed the defenders who were forced to fight, flee into the jungles or flee along the roads where they were simply outsped by the faster Japanese. The defenders left numerous stores of food, abandoned vehicles, and supplies that Yamashita's men would dub “churchill's allowance”. British Lt Colonel Spencer Chapmanwas forced to hide on the sides of roads watching Japanese pedal past remarking “The majority were on bicycles in parties of forty or fifty, riding three or four abreast and talking and laughing just as if they were going to a football match.” The Japanese had the ability to carry their gear on the bicycles, giving them an enormous advantage over the allies fleeing on foot. The Japanese could travel faster, further and less fatigued. When the British destroyed 250 bridges during their flight, “the Japanese infantry (to continue) their advance, wading across the rivers carrying their bicycles on their shoulders, or crossing on log bridges held up on the shoulders of engineers standing in the stream”. The British could not escape the bicycle blitzkrieg as it became known, countless were forced to surrender under constant pressure and relentless pursuit.    Alongside the bicycle warfare, whenever Yamashita faced terrain unsuitable for his tanks, he ordered amphibious landings further south to outflank the enemy's  rear.   Meanwhile the war in the air went equally terrible for the allies. The RAF had pulled back its best pilots and aircraft to deal with the war for Britain against the Luftwaffe. 21 airfields were in Malaya and Singapore, few of them had modern facilities, only 15 concrete runways. The heavy rain made the grass airstrips unusable. All the airfields were allocated around 8 heavy and 8 light anti aircraft guns. Quality radar units were completely inadequate. The Super Spitfires and Hyper Hurricanes were mostly in Britain fighting the Germans, while Buffaloes were allocated to Malaya. The Japanese airforces easily overcame the allied opposition and established air superiority quickly. Launching from airfields in Vietnam, they bombed all the airfields into submission and continuously applied pressure to Singapore. . The aerial dominance of the Zero and ‘Oscar' fighters served to undermine the morale of the British infantryman on the ground. As historian H. P. Wilmot has observed, “in the opening phase of the war the Zero-sen was just what the Japanese needed, and the Allies were devastated by the appearance of a ‘super fighter.' To add insult to injury, every airfield taken starting at the most northern going further and further south towards Singapore offered the Japanese new launching points to make for faster attack.   Yamashita's forces reached the southern tip of the peninsula in just 8 weeks, his men had covered some 700 miles, about 12 miles a day on average. They fought 95 large and smaller battles doing so. Multiple lines of defense were erected one after another to try and halt the Japanese advance, to kill their momentum. Starting at the beach landings, to Jitra, then to Kampar, over the Slim river, then Johor. The British failed to employ “leave behind forces” to provide guerilla warfare in lost territories leading not only the Japanese to easily consolidate their gains, the Thai's also came down and grabbed some territory. At the battle of Muar Major General Gordon Bennet deployed the allied defenders south of the Muar River and it was widely believed here they would finally halt the Japanese. Then the Imperial Guards division outflanked them performing an amphibious landing and advancing down the coastal route. The 5th Japanese division followed a parallel route through the center and the 18th division landed near Endau. The allies were thus surrounded and took heavy casualties, countless were forced to flee through swamps and thick jungle abandoned their stuff. Gordons 45th brigade were absolutely shattered, effectively disbanded and left north of the Muar river as the rest of the allies fled south. The defeat at Muar broke the British belief they could hold even a toehold on Malay. Percivals strategy to fight delaying actions until the arrival of reinforcements to Singapore had fatally undermined his troops ability to hold onto defensive positions. As the British governor of the Johore straits settlement, Sir Shenton Thomas would say on January 6th ‘“We … have gone in for mechanized transport to the nth degree. It is a fearsomely cumbersome method. We have pinned our faith to the few roads but the enemy used tracks and paths, and gets round to our rear very much as he likes.”” Yet alongside the conquest came a series of atrocities.    At the Parit Sulong Bridge south of the Muar, Captain Rewi Snelling was left behind with 150 wounded Australian and Indian soldiers not able to trek south. The Imperial guards division herded them into buildings, denied them medical treatment, many of the Indians were beheaded, others shot. This become known as the parit sulong massacre. Its hard to saw what Yamashita would have known about this incident, it technically was under the command of Takuma nishimura. On January 22nd, Nishimura gave the orders for prisoners to be forced outside, doused with petrol and set on fire. Nishimura would be sentenced to life in prison by a Singapore court, but on a flight back to Japan he was hijacked by Australian military police in Hong Kong who grabbed him and held a trial for the Parit Sulong massacre, finding him guilty and hanging him on june 11th of 1951.    When the Japanese reached the straits of Johore, Yamashita took several days to perform reconnaissance, allowing his forces to regroup and prepare to attack the massive fortress. His plan for the invasion would see the Imperial guards perform a feint attack on the northeast side of Singapore, landing on the nearby Palau Ubin island on february 7th. The 5th and 18th division would remain concealed in the jungle until the night of the night of the 8th when they would cross the Johore and hit the northwest side of Singapore. The causeway to Singapore had been blown up by the retreating British, but the ability for Singapore to defend itself from a northern attack was lackluster. When Churchill was told by Wavell the Japanese sat on the other side of the Johore strait ready to attack the fortress he said ““I must confess to being staggered by Wavell's telegram. It never occurred to me for a moment that … Singapore … was not entirely fortified against an attack from the Northwards …””   With barely enough supplies or logistical support for his campaign, Yamashita's rapid advance down the Malay peninsula walked a tightrope of what was possible. His 70,000 men of which 30,000 were frontline troops had overcome a British force double their number. In Japan he garnered the epithet “Tiger of Malaya”, which ironically he was not too happy about. Later on in the war he would bark at a German attache “I am not a tiger. The tiger attacks its prey in stealth but I attack the enemy in a fair play”.   By this point Singapore had swollen from a population of 550,000to nearly a million. Percival had a total of 70,000 infantry of mixed experience plus 15,000 clerks and support staff to man lines if necessary. 38 battalions, 17 Indian, 13 British, 6 Australian and 2 Malayan. He placed his weakest troops west of the causeway, near the abandoned naval base rather than nearby the airfield which he considered was going to be Yamashita's thrust. He placed his best forces over there, which would prove fatally wrong as Yamashita hit west of the causeway. Yamashita meanwhile could only muster 30,000 troops, he was outnumbered 2:1 and amphibious assaults called for the attacker to hold a 2:1 advantage for success. Yamashita's men were exhausted, they had suffered 4565 casualties, roughly 1793 deaths in their 55 day advance south. Worse yet, Yamashita had a critical supply issue. He had greatly exceeded his supply lines and had been surviving on the abandoned churchill stores along the way. His ammunition was critical low, it is said he was down to 18 functional tanks, allowing his men to fire 100 rounds per day, the fuel ran out, and as Yamashita put it “My attack on Singapore was a bluff—a bluff that worked. I had 30,000 men and was outnumbered more than three to one. I knew that if I had to fight for long for Singapore, I would be beaten. That is why the surrender had to be at once. I was very frightened all the time that the British would discover our numerical weakness and lack of supplies and force me into disastrous street fighting.” He told his men of the 5th and 18th division not to build any cooking fires so they could conceal their positions in the jungle as he gathered hundreds of collapsible boats and other crafts to ford the strait. He gathered 40 divisional commanders and senior officers to a rubber plantation and with a flushed red face read out his attack orders while pouring them Kikumasamune (ceremonial wine). He made a traditional toast and said “It is a good place to die; surely we shall conquer”. He had to get the British to surrender quickly, he had to essentially ‘bluff” his enemy. He had to make the British think he was fully armed and supplied for a prolonged siege, how could he do so? He fired his artillery like a mad man, knowing full well they would run out of shells.   Starting on February 3rd,  Yamashita's artillery supported by aerial bombings hit Singapore for 5 days. On the night of the 7th, 400 Imperial Guards crossed to the Ibin island performing their feint attack. Percivals attention was grabbed to the east successfully, while on the night of the 8th the 5th and 18th divisions assembled carefully at the water's edge. At 8:30pm the first wave of 4000 Japanese troops crossed the Johore strait aboard 150 small vessels. The noise of their engines was drowned out by artillery. The thinly spread Australian lines, 3000 or so men led by Major General Bennet were breached fast leading to pockets of surrounded australian troops. As Lewis Gunner cliff olsen recalled “We were horribly spread out and it was pitch black and they [Japanese troops] were very hard to see. They walked through us half the time.” A beachhead was formed, a soon 14,000 Japanese had crossed by dawn.    Communications broke down for the allies, Percival unwilling to believe the Japanese's main thrust was in the west declined to send reinforcements there. When he did finally realize the main thrust was in the west he began to withdraw troops from quiet sectors and built up a reserve. The Japanese held air supremacy and their artillery was fierce. The big 15 inch guns of singapore held mostly armor piercing shells designed to hit ships, there were few HE shells available. When they fired upon the Japanese the shells would hit the ground they would embed deeply before exploding doing little damage. The defenders had no tanks, basically no more aircraft. The last departing ships fled the scene as everything was burning chaos around them. Morale was breaking for the defenders. By the 9th, Japanese bombers were raining bombs on allied positions unopposed. Bennet was forced to pull men back to a new line of defense from the east of the Tengah airfield to the north of Jurong. Poor communications hampered the northern sector of Brigadier Duncan Maxwell whose troops actually battered the hell out of the Imperial Guards who had landed at 10pm on the 9th. The Imperial guards gradually managed a foothold on a beach, but Maxwell feared encirclement and withdrew his men against direct orders of Bennet. The retreat opened up the flank of the 11th indian division who were overrun. All of the beaches west of the causeway fell to the enemy, when they did Yamashita brought over his tanks to smash the new Jurong line. The Japanese could have potentially stormed the city center at this point, but they held back, because in reality, Percival had created a formidable reserve in the middle. The Australian 22nd brigade took the brunt of the fighting.    Yamashita was running out of reserves and his attacks were reaching their limit, but he needed the battle to end swiftly. Yamashita was shocked and shaken when he received a report that the British troop strength within the city was twice what they believed. With covert desperation, Yamashita ordered his artillery to fire until their last rounds and sent Percival a demand for surrender. “In the spirit of chivalry we have the honour of advising your surrender. Your army, founded on the traditional spirit of Great Britain, is defending Singapore, which is completely isolated, and raising the fame of Great Britain by the ut¬ most exertions and heroic feelings. . . . From now on resistance is futile and merely increases the danger to the million civilian inhabitants without good reason, exposing them to infliction of pain by fire and sword. But the development of the general war situation has already sealed the fate of Singapore, and the continuation of futile resistance would only serve to inflict direct harm and in¬ juries to thousands of non-combatants living in the city, throwing them into further miseries and horrors of war. Furthermore we do not feel you will in¬ crease the fame of the British Army by further resistance.”   Singapore had received another order prior to this from Churchill “It is certain that our troops on Singapore Island greatly outnumber any Japanese that have crossed the Straits. We must defeat them. Our whole fighting reputation is at stake and the honour of the British Empire. The Americans have held out on the Bataan Peninsula against far greater odds, the Russians are turning back the picked strength of the Germans, the Chinese with almost complete lack of mod¬ ern equipment have held the Japanese for AVi years. It will be disgraceful if we yield our boasted fortress of Singapore to inferior enemy forces. There must be no thought ofsparing troops or the civil population and no mercy must be shown to weakness in any shape or form. Commanders and senior officers must lead their troops and if necessary die with them. There must be no question or thought of surrender. Every unit must fight it out to the end and in close contact with the enemy. ... I look to you and your men to fight to the end to prove that the fighting spirit that won our Empire still exists to enable us to defend it.”   What was Percival to do? The Japanese had seized control over Singapore water reservoirs, the population would die of thirst within 2-3 days. Japanese shells were causing fires and death everywhere. People were panicking, trying to get on the very last boats leaving the port, even though that surely meant death to the IJN. An American sailor recalled “There was a lot of chaos and people killed on the docks during these bombardments. Everywhere you looked there was death. Even in the water there were dead sharks and people floating all around.” Defeatism was endemic. Australian troops were overheard saying “Chum, to hell with Malaya and Singapore. Navy let us down, air force let us down. If the bungs [natives] won't fight for their bloody country, why pick on me?” Sensing a complete collapse Percival formed a tight defense arc in front of the city, and by the 13th his commanders were telling him they believed Singapore was already doomed. Wavell was asked for approval for surrender, but he replied  “to continue to inflict maximum damage on enemy for as long as possible by house-to-house fighting if necessary.” Percival then told him the water reservoirs were taken, so Wavell sent back “YOUR GALLANT STAND IS SERVING A PURPOSE AND MUST BE CONTINUED TO THE LIMIT OF ENDURANCE”   On the 15th, Percival held a morning conference reported there was no more fuel, field gun nor bofor ammunition. In 24 hours their water would be done. He told them he would ask for a ceasefire at 4pm, by the end of the day Wavell gave him permission to surrender. Over at his HQ on the Bukit Timah heights, Yamashita was staring at a Union Jack fluttering over Fort Canning. Then a field phone rang, and a frontline commander reported the British were sending out a flag of truce.   Meanwhile back on February the 14th, Japanese forces reached the Alexandra Barracks hospital at 1pm. At 1:40pm a British Lt greeting them waving a white flag and was bayoneted on the spot. The Japanese stormed the hospital and murdered the staff and patients. 200 male staff and patients, badly wounded were bound over night and marched to an industrial estate half a mile away. Anyone who collapsed was bayoneted. The survivors of the march were formed into small groups and hacked to death or bayoneted. For a few days over 320 men and women were massacred. Only 5 survivors would give recounts of the event. It is suspected by historians that Tsuji was the architect of the Alexandra hospital massacre. This is because he was the instigator of countless atrocities he ordered unbeknownst to his superior commanders such as Yamashita.    Percival was ordered to go to the Ford motor factory to where he met with Yamashita. Yamashita was hiding his surprise that the surrender party came and as he glanced at the surrender terms he said through his interpreter “The Japanese Army will consider nothing but surrender,” Yamashita knew his forces were on the verge of running out of ammunition and he still held half troops Percival did, he was anxious Percival would figure it out. Percival replied “I fear that we shall not be able to submit our final reply before ten-thirty p.m.,” Percival had no intention of fighting on he simply wanted to work out specific details before signing the surrender. Yamashita was sure Percival was stalling. “Reply to us only whether our terms are acceptable or not. Things must be settled swiftly. We are prepared to resume firing.Unless you do surrender, we will have to carry out our night attack as scheduled.”” Percival replied ““Cannot the Japanese Army remain in its present position? We can resume negotiations again tomorrow at five-thirty A.M”. Yamashita screamed “Nani! I want the hostilities to cease tonight and I want to remind you there can be no arguments.” Percival replied ““We shall discontinue firing by eight-thirty p.m. Had we better remain in our present positions tonight?” Yamashita said yes and that firing would cease at 8:30pm and that 1000 allied men could keep arms to maintain order within the city. Yamashita stated “You have agreed to the terms but you have not yet made yourself clear as to whether you agree to surrender or not.” Percival cleared his throat and gave a simple nod. Yamashita looked at his interpreter “There's no need for all this talk. It is a simple question and I want a simple answer.” He turned to Percival and shouted, “We want to hear ‘Yes' or ‘No' from you! Surrender or fight!” Percival finally blurted out  “Yes, I agree. I have a request to make. Will the Imperial Army protect the women and children and British civilians?”Yamashita replied  “We shall see to it. Please sign this truce agreement”. At 7:50 the surrender was signed off, 40 minutes later Singapore was in the hands of the Japanese. In 70 days Yamashita took at the cost of 9824 casualties, had seized Malaya and Singapore, nearly 120,000 British surrendered. It was the greatest land victory in Japanese history.   Churchill called the fall of Singapore to the Japanese "the worst disaster and largest capitulation in British history" Churchills physician Lord Moran wrote The fall of Singapore on February 15 stupefied the Prime Minister. How came 100,000 men (half of them of our own race) to hold up their hands to inferior numbers of Japanese? Though his mind had been gradually prepared for its fall, the surrender of the fortress stunned him. He felt it was a disgrace. It left a scar on his mind. One evening, months later, when he was sitting in his bathroom enveloped in a towel, he stopped drying himself and gloomily surveyed the floor: 'I cannot get over Singapore', he said sadly   With the fall of singapore came another atrocity, the Sook Ching massacre. After February 18th, the Japanese military began mass killings of what they deemed undesirables, mostly ethnic Chinese. It was overseen by the Kempeitai and did not stop in Singapore, but spread to Malaya. It seems the aim of the purge was to intimidate the Chinese community from performing any resistance. According to postwar testimony taken from a war correspondent embedded with the 25th army, Colonel Hishakari Takafumi, he stated an order went out to kill 50,000 Chinese, of which 20 percent of the total was issued by senior officials on Yamashita's operations staff, most likely Tsuji. It is certain at the behest of Tsuji the orders were extended to Malay. The death toll is a tricky one, the Japanese went on the record to admit to 6000 murders, the Singaporean Chinese community and the Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew allege 70,000-100,000. Historians analyzing the scale of discovered mass graves after some decades think around 25,000-50,000. How much Yamashita knew of the massacre is debatable, the orders came from his office after all, but it seems Tsuji had orchestrated it. Many of Japan's generals wanted Yamashita to be appointed war minister, a move that obviously threatened then Prime Minister Hideki Tojo, who feared his rival. Tojo retaliated, ordering Japan's new war hero back to Manchuria. On the surface, the assignment appeared worthy as Yamashita would serve as the first line of defense against a possible Soviet invasion. But since the two nations had signed a neutrality pact in April 1941, and Soviets were bogged down fighting the Germans, immediate war appeared unlikely. In reality, Tojo had parked Yamashita on the war's sidelines. Tojo went even further, he barred Yamashita any leave in Tokyo, preventing him from visiting his wife as well as from delivering a speech he had written for the emperor. No worries though, an aide of Yamashita's sent him three geishas. Allegedly he said this “I know they want to please me with these girls. But send them back—and don't forget to tip them.” The Tiger of Malaya would maintain a low profile in Manchuria where he received a promotion to full General. As months fell to years Yamashita sat on the sidelines helpless to aid the Japanese forces. His exile would come to an end in 1944 when Tojo was outed and the Tiger was required to try and save the Philippines from General Douglas MacArthur.

Last time we spoke about the battle over Changfukeng Hill. In the frost-bit dawn by the Chaun and Tumen, two empires faced a cliff of fate: Soviet and Japanese, each convinced that Changkufeng belonged to them. Diplomats urged restraint, yet Tokyo's generals brewed a daring plan, strike at night, seize the crest, then bargain. Sato and Suetaka debated risk and restraint, weighing "dokudan senko" against disciplined action as rain hissed on the ground. Night fell like velvet. Nakano, a quiet, meticulous regimental leader, gathered the 75th Regiment's veterans, choosing five fearless captains and a rising star, Nakajima, to carry the charge. Scouts and engineers moved ahead, weaving a fragile path across the Tumen: wire-cutters in the dark, signals humming softly, and the thunder of distant Soviet tanks rolling along the shore. At 02:15, after breaches breached and silent men slid through wire, the Japanese surged up the slopes with bayonets glinting, swords ready, and nerves as taut as steel. The crest lunged with savage resistance: grenades flashed, machine guns roared, and leaders fell. By 05:15, dawn broke, and the hill, Course of blood and courage, stood in Japanese hands.   #180 A premature Japanese Victory over Changkufeng 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. On 31 July 1938, dawn seemed to indicate Changkufeng Hill was in Japanese hands. From his command post, Colonel Sato Kotoku, his regimental staff, and most of Hirahara's 3rd Battalion had been anxiously watching the progress of the 1st Battalion's operations since 12:30 on 31 July. Around 03:00, the Japanese infantry commanders issued "heroic orders to charge," audible above the withering fire. Sato expected the crest to fall in little more than an hour; when no signal shell burst over the hill, he grew apprehensive, praying for success with his heart breaking. A mile away on Hill 52, the troops could discern no voices, only gunfire and the spectacular glow of flares and tracers. As one soldier recalled "It was like fireflies," another soldier added "it was like a carnival". To Sasai, on the heights at Kucheng, it was, as he put it, "c'était un grand spectacle." By the way I think its one of the only times I've read a Japanese soldier using French, what he said translates to "it was a large spectacle", I am from Quebec so I speak baguette. The mist moved up Changkufeng Hill, and Japanese troops followed it, fighting for hours. Fearing Nakano's battalion might have been wiped out, Sato's staff prayed for fog. Sato later admitted, "By dawn we were failing to take our objectives."   At the base of Chiangchunfeng, Sato held the 6th Company in reserve, ready to attack Changkufeng from the left. He would have preferred not to commit it, given the danger of an accidental fire-fight with friendly forces. Nevertheless, as combat intensified, Sato decided to push the company into support of the 1st Battalion. After orders at 03:15, Ito moved toward the northwest side of Changkufeng. The Russians laid down heavy fire, especially from a well-placed machine-gun position on the far left. Ito's company, suffering heavy and needlessly casualties, had to hold near the middle of the slope. A runner was sent to the regimental command post requesting artillery support after dawn. By 04:30, Sato could discern the Changkufeng crest, where fierce close-quarters fighting raged between Japanese and Russians on the south edge, while the enemy continually sent reinforcements, troops followed by tanks, up the northern slope. Ito's company was visible on the western slope, bravely bearing a Japanese flag. 10-15 minutes later, grenade-discharger fire began to blast the Soviet positions. At 04:40, Ito, redeploying at dawn, observed elements of the 1st Company near the hill's summit. Contact was established with Inagaki's men. The Russians began to show signs of disarray under the grenade dischargers and the heavy weapons deployed by the reserve battalion at Chiangchunfeng. Thereupon Ito's company charged as well, capturing the northwest corner of Changkufeng roughly concurrently with the main body of the 1st Battalion under Sakata. Ito was wounded and evacuated; two sergeants were later cited in dispatches. Meanwhile, the 10th Company, led by Takeshita of the 3rd Battalion, was to conduct a separate night assault against fire points around Hill 24, about 1,000 meters north of Changkufeng. The aim was to disrupt Russian withdrawal along the slopes to the rear and to hinder reinforcements. At midnight, the company left the skirts of Chiangchunfeng in fog and darkness. Moving stealthily over the undulating terrain, they faced knee-deep bogs and tall vegetation. After evading sentries, they penetrated behind the enemy. By 02:00, five teams totaling 16 men under Sergeant Uchibori were ready to strike Hill 24. Takeshita led the charge from the right and overran the defenders by 02:20. The Russians, numbering 20 to 30 riflemen with one machine gun, fled toward Khasan, leaving four soldiers behind whom the Japanese bayoneted. Takeshita's company continued to consolidate Hill 24, awaiting counterattacks, which soon followed. At 04:00, eight tanks, with headlights on, launched an attack from the Shachaofeng sector, supported by an infantry company . Takeshita reinforced Uchibori's unit with assault teams; the Russian infantry were routed, and five tanks were knocked out. At dawn, about 100 Soviet troops were observed retreating from the direction of Changkufeng, surprised and mowed down by heavy and light machine guns at ranges of about 300 meters. At 06:30, the Soviets attacked again with an infantry battalion and a machine-gun company from north of Khasan. The Japanese allowed them to close, then concentrated the firepower of both infantry platoons plus heavy machine guns. After a 30-minute firefight with heavy casualties on the Soviet side, the Russians fell back. Again, at 07:10, the Soviets struck from the north of Khasan, this time with one company and five tanks. Russian infantry, supported by three tanks, pushed in front of the Japanese positions, but machine-gun and small-arms fire forced them to retreat eastward, the tanks being stopped 50 meters from the lines. Meanwhile, two Japanese enlisted men on patrol near the lake encountered armor; they attacked and, after taking casualties, returned with captured ammunition and equipment. One rapid-fire piece had been providing covering fire behind Takeshita's unit and opened fire on three tanks attacking north of Changkufeng, helping to stop them. As daybreak arrived, Takeshita's company cleared the battlefield, retrieved casualties, and reinforced the defenses. Then an order from the regiment transferred the main body to Changkufeng. Leaving one platoon at Hill 24, Takeshita came directly under Hirahara's command. Takeshita was later officially cited by the regiment. If Hill 52 fell, Changkufeng would be lost. The Russians understood the importance of this constricted sector as well. Their armor could swing south of Khasan, while the terrain to the north was boggier and could be made impassable by the field-artillery battery emplaced on the Korean side of the Tumen. To check hostile reinforcements into this vital region, Sato had dispatched an infantry element to Hill 52 early. Northward, he had 1st Lieutenant Hisatsune emplacement the two 75-millimeter mountain pieces belonging to his infantry gun battery, together with two of 2nd Lieutenant Saito's three 20-millimeter anti-tank guns and the two 37-millimeter infantry rapid-fire guns belonging to 2nd Lieutenant Kutsukake's battalion gun battery. At 23:00 on 30 July, in accord with Nakano's orders, Hisatsune moved these six guns to the ridgeline between Changkufeng and Hill 52. Apart from the guns to the left, defense of Hill 52 was entrusted to the experienced Master Sergeant Murakoshi Kimio, 2nd Platoon leader in Nakajima's company. After the Shachaofeng affair, Murakoshi was ordered to occupy the hill. Moving along the shore on 30 July, his unit encountered neither friendly nor hostile troops. The regimental records note that "some enemy unit came into the dip east of Hill 52 since morning on the 30th, and both sides were watching each other." Murakoshi deployed his three rifle squads, totaling 34 men. After Nakano's battalion jumped off on 31 July, the platoon observed not only the "fireworks display" but also Soviet motorized units with lights aglow, moving on high ground east of Khasan. Later, tanks could be heard clanking toward Hill 52. Around 04:00, Murakoshi organized anti-tank teams and sent them into action. Most accounts emphasize the anti-tank efforts, rather than the fire of Murakoshi's machine gunners. Three privates, carrying anti-tank mines, undertook daring assaults once the terrain obliged the Russian tanks to slow. They laid their mines, but the soil proved too soft, and the attempt failed. In the most publicized episode, Private First Class Matsuo, nicknamed a "human bullet," was badly wounded by machine-gun fire from a tank and knocked from the vehicle, but he managed to reboard with a satchel charge and, it is said, stop the tank at the cost of his life. The platoon leader and his remaining 20 men, having withdrawn 200 meters below their positions, poured torrents of fire at the infantry accompanying the tanks. Flames from the antitank mine assaults provided blazing targets. In concert with Hisatsune's six infantry guns emplaced on the Crestline southeast of Changkufeng, Murakoshi knocked out the remaining two tanks. When the tanks were immobilized, the Soviet troops did not press forward; exposed to Japanese fire, their losses mounted. By daybreak, the Russians had pulled back. Official records describe one Soviet company with four heavy machine guns, led by mounted officers. After hours of intense combat, Colonel Sato and his staff observed that all operations were succeeding by dawn. It was fortunate that Japanese units had posed a threat from the east; only then did the Russians begin to retreat. "But what an incomparably heroic first combat it had been… the scene at Changkufeng was sublime and inspiring. Private feelings were forgotten, and all bowed their heads in respect for the gallant fighting by matchless subordinates." As soon as Sato confirmed that Changkufeng had been occupied, he sent an aide to assess casualties. "When the colonel learned about the death of his capable and dependable officers," a lieutenant recalled, "he… murmured, 'Is that so?' and closed his eyes. The dew glistened on his lids." Meanwhile, in addition to the battle of annihilation at Changkufeng, Major Takenouchi of Okido's regiment was to conduct the dawn assault in the Shachaofeng area. His 1st Battalion and attached elements numbered 379 men; Kanda's company of the Kucheng Border Guard Unit added another 49. An engineer platoon was attached. At 18:00 on 30 July, Takenouchi issued his orders. According to that evening's regimental maps, north of Khasan were two battalions of Soviet infantry and 20 tanks. South of Shachaofeng, the Russians had entanglements and machine-gun nests, with additional emplacements to the rear, west of the lake, and armor moving south toward Changkufeng. Northwest of Shachaofeng lay the main body of Takenouchi's battalion. Signal lines connected his headquarters with Sato's command post. The only Soviet patrol activity noted, as of evening, was in the direction of Matsunobe. Around 02:00, machine guns chattered south of Changkufeng, signaling an increasing intensity of Sato's night assault. On Takenouchi's front, the Russians went on alert, firing illuminating shells and opening fire from the north side of Changkufeng. At 02:30, Matsunobe's unit finished breakfast and moved to the jump-off site. The terrain was difficult and there was considerable enemy tracer fire, but, thanks to effective reconnaissance, the force reached its destination without loss by 04:00. Matsunobe eliminated an outpost unit using rear-area scouts who struck from the rear and gave the enemy little opportunity to respond. Then the Japanese prepared for the main attack as they awaited daybreak. At 04:00, the supporting mountain artillery platoon took position between Matsunobe and Takenouchi. Throughout this period, the sounds of fighting grew more violent toward Changkufeng; machine guns were especially active. At 05:00, three enemy tanks could be seen moving up the northern slope of Changkufeng, but soon after news arrived that friendly forces had seized the crest. With sunrise imminent, the Japanese guns assumed their role. The longest-range support Takenouchi could expect was Narukawa's two 15-centimeter howitzers, emplaced across the Tumen north of Sozan. This battery took position at 04:20, after which the commander went to join Sato just behind the front. Several thousand meters of telephone line had been strung across the river, linking observation post and battery. Narukawa watched the fierce struggle at Changkufeng and prepared to support the dawn assault, while honoring the desperate effort of Ito's company for covering fire. Firing began at 05:10, though range data were not adequate. After little more than ten rounds, the enemy heavy machine guns on the Shachaofeng front subsided. A veteran artilleryman proudly remarked, "These were the first howitzer shells ever fired against the Soviet Army." At 05:20, Takenouchi's own heavy weapons added effective counterfire. Matsunobe and his company had crept to a line 150 meters in front of the Russian positions, taking advantage of dead angles and covered by light machine guns. Three Soviet tanks, however, had pressed forward against the main body. Two Private First Class soldiers, members of a close-quarters team, waited until the lead tank reversed course, then dashed in from the rear and blew it up. Two other soldiers attacked the third tank with mines but could not destroy it because of the tall grass. In a dramatic action that always thrilled Japanese audiences, a Private First Class jumped aboard with a portable mine, while a superior private jammed explosives into the tank's rear and allegedly blew off both treads, though the tank continued firing. While Matsunobe's company laid a smoke screen and prepared to charge, the Soviet tank was knocked out by rapid-fire guns. Master Sergeant Sudo's platoon seized the opportunity to race forward 15 meters and overrun two firing points at 05:40. When the Russians counterattacked with 60 infantrymen and three new tanks, Matsunobe ordered the grenade-discharger squad to fire while he had Sudo pull back to the foot of the hill. Close-quarter teams knocked out the tanks in succession. By this time the Russians had been shaken badly, allowing Matsunobe's main force to surge into two more positions. Five or six remaining Soviet soldiers were wiped out by a combination of Japanese pursuit fire and Soviet gunfire emanating from east of Khasan. After 06:00, the Japanese held the high ground at Shachaofeng. Kanda's unit had achieved a similar result, swinging around Matsunobe and skirting the left of the Soviet positions. Russian artillery opened from the east, but the Japanese used the terrain to advantage and suffered no casualties. Around this time, enemy forces in the Changkufeng area began to retreat, a portion by motor vehicle. Takenouchi had Matsunobe secure the site and, at 06:13, directed the main battalion to advance toward the north side of Khasan. A stubborn four-hour battle then ensued as Soviet forces delayed their retreat and the covering unit occupied the northern edge of the lake. Takenouchi estimated the enemy's strength at two infantry companies, a company of 12 heavy machine guns, and one heavy battery. Several Russian counterattacks were mounted against Matsunobe, while Takenouchi reinforced Kanda. The battalion attacked with great intensity and by 10:30 had managed to encircle the right flank of the enemy defenses at the northwest edge of Khasan. The Russians began to fall back, though one company of infantry resisted vigorously. At 10:50, the Soviet rear-guard company opened fire with machine guns while several tanks delivered heavy machine-gun and cannon fire. Soviet artillery, firing rapidly, also joined the resistance to Takenouchi's advance. Firepower pinned down the Japanese in this sector from late morning until nightfall.    For reasons of necessity as well as doctrine, the night assault on Changkufeng Hill received no artillery support. The dawn assault to clear Shachaofeng, however, required all available firepower, even if limited. Firing diagrams reflect no howitzer fire directed north of Changkufeng; this is understandable since Narukawa had only two pieces to handle numerous targets. A Soviet tank element was driven off, west of the lake, by 03:00 from the skirt of Chiangchunfeng by 3rd Battalion heavy weapons. Sasai, at the Kucheng command post, contends that Japanese artillery scored a significant success: school-tactics were followed, and the battery stood ready in case the night assault by the infantry failed. By dawn, Russian remnants clung to the crest, though the infantry had "peeled the skin" from their defenses. "In the morning, one of our howitzer shells hit near Changkufeng, whereupon the last of the enemy fled." Survivors of the night assault recalled no direct artillery support by Japanese artillery, though firing charts suggest some; Soviet sources dispute this. Regimental records note: "After firing against positions southwest of Shachaofeng, the Narukawa battery fired to cut off the enemy's retreat path from Shachaofeng and to neutralize the foe's superior artillery. Results were great." In the morning, Sato returned to Chiangchunfeng, observed the difficult anti-artillery combat by the Narukawa battery, and commended their performance. He watched howitzer fire disrupt Soviet artillery positions opposite Shachaofeng and estimated enemy strength at a battalion. Sato saw Russian horse-drawn artillery blasted from its sites and pulled back north of Khasan. Narukawa's first targets were positions and tanks south of Shachaofeng. Northeast of the lake, one battery of Russians headed north after dawn. In Narukawa's firing pattern, north of the lake, a Soviet motorized unit of more than ten vehicles withdrew in the afternoon. A new Russian artillery formation moving north of Khasan that afternoon received the heaviest fire from the howitzers. On that day Narukawa's two active pieces fired a total of 74 rounds. The only other Japanese artillery support for the infantry consisted of the half-battery of 75-millimeter mountain guns already forward. The platoon under 2nd Lieutenant Ikue moved west of Shachaofeng, starting from behind Kanda at 04:00, and bombarded Soviet positions to the northeast. Firing a lighter projectile than Narukawa's pieces, Ikue's men fired 162 shells and 37 shrapnel rounds at the Russians. Colonel Tanaka, the artillery regiment commander, reached the front during the night as battle's fury peaked from Changkufeng. Tanaka's mission was to take over Narukawa's battery and support infantry combat from dawn. Upon establishing his headquarters, Tanaka sent a liaison officer to the 75th Regiment. The 3rd Mountain Artillery Battalion completed unloading at Shikai Station in the night, and at 03:40, it entered emplacements on the north side of Nanpozan. Tanaka ordered Rokutanda to repel any enemy attacks that might be staged from Changkufeng and north of Yangkuanping. The battalion made good use of prior surveys and proved helpful in thwarting offensive attempts from the vicinity of Shachaofeng after daybreak. Rokutanda also coordinated with Narukawa to cut off the Soviet retreat route after enemy motorized and infantry forces began to fall back from Shachaofeng.   At Changkufeng, once the last Russians had been routed, two hours of quiet settled over both sides. The Japanese busied themselves with cleaning up the field, retrieving casualties, and bearing the dead to the rear. The few Japanese historians who have worked with 75th Regiment records have argued with a dramatic passage describing dawn: "From 05:15, after the top had been secured by us, the fog began to drift in. At about 05:30 rain started to drench the whole area; therefore, enemy artillery had to stop firing. God's will." Sakata counters that no Russian artillery shelled the peak after his men had cleared it. Sato agrees; only in the afternoon did at least 20 Soviet guns, emplaced north of the lake, open fire at Changkufeng. At first, Russian shells fell harmlessly into a pond nearby; Sato recalls fish splashing out. Thereafter, Soviet gunners gradually corrected their aim, but the Japanese took cover behind rocks and sustained no casualties. Soviet shellfire may have begun at dawn but appeared to be directed mainly toward Shachaofeng, where Soviet defenders were not evicted until an hour after Changkufeng fell. Tanaka, however, argues that when he arrived at the front at 05:00, Russian artillery was firing on objectives west of the Tumen, and several shells struck his men and guns. Japanese firing charts show that Soviet guns initially bombarded Takenouchi's sector at Shachaofeng from two positions north and northeast of Khasan. After these Russian positions were forced to evacuate, the new Soviet gun unit that arrived in the afternoon engaged not only Changkufeng but also the area of the Japanese regimental headquarters. A Japanese military history suggests that Chiangchunfeng, the site of the observation post for the heavy field-artillery battery, was hit early in the morning, just after Takenouchi's ground assault against Shachaofeng had begun. The only other Russian artillery fire noted is the early-morning bombardment of the region of Hill 52. This shelling emanated from a point southeast of the lake but appeared directed primarily against Hisatsune's guns, which pulled back to Changkufeng at 06:00. Takeshita's company, which had jumped off at 02:00 and struck to the rear of Changkufeng toward the heights southwest of Shachaofeng, sustained severe enemy artillery fire after dawn. The main body secured the positions it had captured, while one platoon occupied Hill 24. On Takenouchi's front, intense enemy artillery fire continued after the Shachaofeng district was cleared, but the battalion maintained its position throughout the day. At 20:00, Takenouchi pulled back to the heights northwest of Shachaofeng. Elements of Matsunobe's unit on the right flank clung to advanced positions southeast of Shachaofeng. Regarding the theological allusion to merciful rain at dawn, no interviewee recalled a torrential downpour at Changkufeng. One soldier remembered descending from the crest at 08:30, taking breakfast, and returning for battlefield cleanup an hour later, at which time it began to drizzle. The 75th Regiment's weather record for Sunday, 31 July, simply states, "Cloudy; sunrise 05:08."   At 06:40, Colonel Sato ordered Hirahara's 3rd Battalion to relieve Nakano's mauled 1st Battalion and Ito's company atop Changkufeng. The 1st Battalion was to become the regimental reserve force, assemble at Chiangchunfeng, and collect its dead and wounded. Shortly after 08:00, Hirahara arrived at the crest of Changkufeng. Sakata was still upright, blood-streaked. "It's all right now," Hirahara told him. "You can go down." Sakata limped away with the remnants of the 1st Battalion. At the command post he met Sato, who praised him, promised to replace his damaged sword with one of his own, and told him to head for the hospital. When he protested, Sato bellowed, more in pride than anger, "To the hospital with you!" Sakata went, leaving Kuriyama as acting company commander. That morning, Sato climbed Changkufeng and gave Hirahara instructions. He commended the heavy field artillery battery commander, Narukawa, for his effective support of Takenouchi's dawn attack at Shachaofeng. Before returning to his command post, Sato carefully supervised the collection of Japanese dead. He looked into the face of each man and bade him farewell, a regiment officer recalls. "His sincerity and sorrow inspired reverence in all of us." In the afternoon, Sato sent Oshima back to Haigan to report the victory to forces in the rear, to visit the families of the fallen, and to "exert a beneficial influence on the native inhabitants lest they become confused and upset by the recent fighting." After the Russians had been ousted from Changkufeng and Shachaofeng, information became available to Japanese headquarters concerning the extent of the victory and the price. The 75th Regiment put Soviet casualties at 300 men in each area and claimed a total of 17 tanks knocked out during the operations—seven at Changkufeng, three at Hill 52, seven at Shachaofeng. Assault infantrymen noted that few Soviet bodies were found in the crestline positions, other than those cut down by cold steel; many Russians were presumably wounded by grenades. Colonel Sato asserts that 30 Soviet corpses were picked up in the Changkufeng area after the night attack. Most Japanese survivors judge that Soviet casualties were at least double those incurred by their own forces. The Japanese used much of the materiel they had captured. The price had been grim in the assault units: 45 killed, 133 wounded. In both Colonel Nakano's and Colonel Takenouchi's battalions, about 25 percent of the officers and almost 10 percent of the men were killed or wounded. The main assault waves, chiefly the 1st and 2nd infantry companies and 1st Machine-Gun Company of Colonel Nakano's unit, suffered as many as one-half or two-thirds casualties, down to platoons and squads. Before the night attack, Colonel Nakano's battalion had a total of 401 men. The strength of Shimomura's battalion had diminished by only 17: Hirahara's by 10. Nakano's unit lost over 80 percent of all Japanese killed and wounded in the Changkufeng–Hill 52 sector.  Japanese accounts were lavish in their praise of Colonel Sato's conception and execution of the night-dawn assaults. "Everybody had conducted several inspections of the front, yet only two or three individuals were acquainted with the precise sector where we carried out our assault." The costly lack of comprehensive intelligence necessitated reduction of firing points in succession and made the assault on the peak, the true key, possible only at the end. "This was a rather difficult method. It would have been better to have thrown one small unit against one firing point invariably and to have used the main force to break through the depth of the foe swiftly." On the larger benefits of the night operation, Akaishizawa wrote, "We prevented the main hostile forces, numbering several thousand troops concentrated east of Khasan about 600 or 700 meters behind Changkufeng, from laying a finger on us." Sato regards the night attack as a success: "The Soviets would have taken over the entire region unless checked." But with respect to Suetaka's words of praise for Sato himself, one candid division staff officer does not share what he calls "extravagant laudation." "The night-attack plan had been devised long in advance. I do not see anything particularly brilliant about it. Only in terms of results could one call the assault well done." Sakata concurs but stresses that training paid off: "All the men in my company followed their leaders to the crest and thus displayed their teamwork and unity," despite the unexpectedly severe casualties. The Soviets seemed particularly apprehensive about the possibility of Japanese armored operations. Antitank weapons were deployed on the eastern slopes of Changkufeng, ready to fire against the axis of Hill 52, which theoretically was good tank country. Illuminating shells and flares were employed profusely in concert with heavy machine guns firing blue tracers from the time Japanese troops entered the zone of wire defenses. Tanks supplemented the fire network, as did artillery zeroed in east of Khasan. But it was the grenades, in "heaps and mounds," that troubled the attackers most: "This tactic must be one of the most important aspects of Soviet infantry training, together with snipers. Our night assault unit did not sustain too many casualties until the crest but, since we could not run up into the positions, the foe was able to hurl many milk-bottle-size grenades. Our forces must be given more training with hand grenades".  The first phone call to Seoul did not come until Changkufeng had been assaulted and cleared. Around 05:00 the division learned that victory had been achieved at Changkufeng; the first reports mentioned no Japanese casualties. "Thank God!" was the reaction. Suetaka and the major toasted Sato's victory with sake. "At 06:00, one company of the Sato unit occupied Shachaofeng and expelled the Soviet forces across the border." Not long afterward, the division, like the 75th Regiment, began to learn the extent of the casualties. Although personal sorrow displaced initial elation, there was grim satisfaction that the insolent Russians had been ousted and the dignity of the Imperial Army maintained. It was hoped and expected that the Korea Army would share this view. Seoul had learned of the Japanese assaults only after the fact and in a rather cursory fashion. Nakamura ordered the front-line units to secure the heights and to localize the affair by limiting the strength used in that area and by ensuring cautious action.  Nakamura's orders to not expand upon the victory were criticized heavily. However Tsuchiya recalled "The decision was taken too easily. Perhaps some had covert opposition, but no one spoke up. I think there was some misunderstanding of individual positions. Yet the crisis should have been analyzed carefully. It is too bad that there was no direct supervision by the Chief of Staff." For Tsuchiya, the Korea Army would have been in trouble if the incident had dragged on because of Soviet buildup and Japanese casualties and low mobilization. Although Nakamura likely wished the 19th Division to abandon unnecessary actions regardless of victory or defeat, he did not seem to care; he showed no intention of inspecting the local scene. Yet Tsuchiya felt such a keen sense of responsibility that he was prepared to commit suicide if matters went wrong. Inada argued that Nakamura did not visit the front to avoid expanding the troubles and disturbing the troops. Analyzing the Korea Army's nebulous control, Imaoka notes that Nakamura had only recently arrived in Korea and had little time before fighting began, but something seemed lacking in the army's exercise of command. Thus, Nakamura never met Suetaka until after the incident had been resolved, although the governor-general came from Seoul to visit Suetaka at the battlefront and to express appreciation in person. "It was quite proper to adhere to the policy of nonenlargement, but the Korea Army should have furnished more positive operational guidance in such a case when a subordinate division was in serious trouble." There were important lessons to be learned here, Tsuchiya recalled  "The 19th Division attacked the Russians twice in 36 hours without army orders or approval. How is it that the division commander, a lieutenant general and certainly not an reckless man, could have been allowed so much margin to act independently?" Some suggest that Suetaka tended to violate the spirit of the law, especially in force majeure. Others think that Suetaka was loyal, deliberate, and law-abiding, a worrier who could be expected to follow orders. Why risk one's career—one's life, given that self-censure loomed—when headquarters' decision was available? Military discipline and national interest dictated prior consultation and compliance. Or did Suetaka, like other notable generals, think gambles were justified by the goddess of Victory? 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. A daring Japanese night assault, led by Colonel Sato and his bold captains, threaded through fog, wire, and enemy fire. As dawn broke, the crest fell into Japanese hands, after brutal stand-ins on Hill 52 and Shachaofeng. Glinting grenades, roaring tanks, and disciplined infantry forged the victory, at a heavy price: dozens of officers and many men lost.   

Not everyone in the belligerent nations of the second world war was eager to support their government. This episode is all about those who stood against their own governments during the second world war in both Axis and Allied nations.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!

Although the Axis Powers were clearly losing ground throughout late 1944 and early 1945, Japan continued fighting for months after Germany surrendered, often exacting horrific casualties upon both Allied forces and their own civilian populations. The Allies turned to extreme measures in hopes of forcing the unconditional surrender which they sought, culminating in the first use of nuclear weapons 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!

This week Seth Paridon and Jon Parshall welcome back the OG, Captain Bill Toti to the show for our first of several Q&A episodes. As always, our emcee, retired US Army Major Shawn Bergstrom is with us as well. The guys tackle some of the more than 500 questions sent in (!) and cover all klinds of topics from the Philippines, to torpedoes, dinner guests and just about anything else you can think of. Check it out to see if your question made the cut. #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #essex #halsey #taskforce38 #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #hollywood #movie #movies #books #mastersoftheair #8thairforce #mightyeighth #100thbombgroup #bloodyhundredth #b17 #boeing #airforce wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #hollywood #movie #movies #books #oldbreed #1stMarineDivision #thepacific #Peleliu #army #marines #marinecorps #worldwar2 #worldwar #worldwarii #leytegulf #battleofleytegulf #rodserling #twilightzone #liberation #blacksheep #power #prisoner #prisonerofwar #typhoon #hurricane #weather #iwojima#bullhalsey #ace #p47 #p38 #fighter #fighterpilot #b29 #strategicstudying #tokyo #boeing #incendiary #usa #franklin #okinawa #yamato #kamikaze #Q&A #questions #questionsandanswers #history #jaws #atomicbomb #nuclear #nationalarchives #nara #johnford #hollywood #fdr #president #roosevelt #doolittle #doolittleraid #pearlharborattack #salvaged #medalofhonor #tarawa #malayalam

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the battle of lake Khasan. On a frost-bitten dawn by the Chaun and Tumen, two empires, Soviet and Japanese, stared at Changkufeng, each certain the ridge would decide their fate. Diplomats urged restraint, but Tokyo's generals plotted a bold gamble: seize the hill with a surprise strike and bargain afterward. In the Japanese camp, a flurry of trains, orders, and plans moved in the night. Officers like Sato and Suetaka debated danger and responsibility, balancing "dokudan senko", independent action with disciplined restraint. As rain hammered the earth, they contemplated a night assault: cross the Tumen, occupy Hill 52, and strike Changkufeng with coordinated dawn and night attacks. Engineers, artillery, and infantry rehearsed their movements in near-poetic precision, while the 19th Engineers stitched crossings and bridges into a fragile path forward. Across the river, Soviet scouts and border guards held their nerve, counting enemy shadows and watching for a break in the line. The clash at Shachaofeng became a lightning rod: a small force crossed into Manchurian soil in the restless dark, provoking a broader crisis just as diplomacy teetered.   #179 From Darkness to Crest: The Changkufeng Battle 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. As remarked in the 19th division's war journal "With sunset on the 30th, the numbers of enemy soldiers increased steadily. Many motor vehicles, and even tanks, appear to have moved up. The whole front has become tense. Hostile patrols came across the border frequently, even in front of Chiangchunfeng. Tank-supported infantry units were apparently performing offensive deployment on the high ground south of Shachaofeng." Situation maps from the evening indicated Soviet patrol activity approaching the staging area of Nakano's unit near the Tumen, moving toward Noguchi's company to the left of Chiangchunfeng, and advancing toward Matsunobe's unit southwest of Shachaofeng. Russian vessels were depicted ferrying across Khasan, directly behind Changkufeng, while tanks moved south from Shachaofeng along the western shores of the lake. The 19th division's war journal states "Then it was ascertained that these attack forces had gone into action. All of our own units quietly commenced counteraction from late that night, as scheduled, after having systematically completed preparations since nightfall." Meanwhile, to the north, the Hunchun garrison reinforced the border with a battalion and tightened security. All evidence supported the view that Suetaka "in concept" and Sato"(in tactics" played the main part in the night-attack planning and decisions. Sato was the only infantry regimental commander at the front on 30 July. One division staff officer went so far as to say that Suetaka alone exerted the major influence, that Sato merely worked out details, including the type of attack and the timing. Intertwined with the decision to attack Changkufeng was the choice of an infantry regiment. The 76th Regiment was responsible for the defense of the sector through its Border Garrison Unit; but the latter had no more than two companies to guard a 40-mile border extending almost to Hunchun, and Okido's regimental headquarters was 75 miles to the rear at Nanam. T. Sato's 73rd Regiment was also at Nanam, while Cho's 74th Regiment was stationed another 175 miles southwest at Hamhung. Thus, the regiment nearest to Changkufeng was K. Sato's 75th, 50 miles away at Hoeryong. Although Suetaka had had time to shuffle units if he desired, Sasai suggested that troop movements from Nanam could not be concealed; from Hoeryong they might be termed maneuvers. Suetaka undoubtedly had favorites in terms of units as well as chiefs. K. Sato had served longest as regimental commander, since October 1937; Okido's date of rank preceded K. Sato's, but Okido had not taken command until 1938. He and Cho were able enough, but they were unknown quantities; T. Sato and Cho were brand-new colonels.  Thus, K. Sato was best known to Suetaka and was familiar with the terrain. While he did not regard his regiment as the equal of units in the Kwantung Army or in the homeland, K. Sato's training program was progressing well and his men were rugged natives of Nagano and Tochigi prefectures. From the combat soldier's standpoint, the Changkufeng Incident was waged between picked regulars on both sides. The matter of quantitative regimental strength could have played no part in Suetaka's choice. The 74th, 75th, and 76th regiments each possessed 1,500 men; the 73rd, 1,200. Even in ordinary times, every unit conducted night-attack training, attended by Suetaka, but there was nothing special in July, even after the general inspected the 75th Regiment on the 11th. It had been said that the most efficient battalions were selected for the action. Although, of course, Sato claimed that all of his battalions were good, from the outset he bore the 1st Battalion in mind for the night attack and had it reconnoiter the Changkufeng area. Some discerned no special reasons; it was probably a matter of numerical sequence, 1st-2nd-3rd Battalions. Others called the choice a happy coincidence because of the 1st Battalion's 'splendid unity' and the aggressive training conducted by Major Ichimoto, who had reluctantly departed recently for regimental headquarters. Coming from the 75th Regiment headquarters to take over the 1st Battalion was the 40-year-old aide Major Nakano. By all accounts, he was quiet, serious, and hard-working, a man of noble character, gentle and sincere. More the administrative than commander type, Nakano lacked experience in commanding battalions and never had sufficient time to get to know his new unit (or they, him) before the night assault. He could hardly be expected to have stressed anything particular in training. Since there was no battalion-level training, the most valid unit of comparison in the regiment was the company, the smallest infantry component trained and equipped to conduct combat missions independently. Sato valued combat experience among subordinates; Nakano's 1st Battalion was considered a veteran force by virtue of its old-timer company commanders. All but one had come up through the ranks; the exception, young Lieutenant Nakajima, the darling of Sato, was a military academy graduate. For assault actions synchronized with those of the 1st Battalion, Sato selected Ito, the one line captain commanding the 6th Company of the 2nd Battalion, and Takeshita, 10th Company commander, one of the two line captains of the 3rd Battalion. In short, Sato had designated five veteran captains and a promising lieutenant to conduct the night-attack operations of 30-31 July, the first Japanese experience of battle against the modern Red Army. During the last two weeks of July, numerous spurious farmers had gambled along the lower reaches of the Tumen, reconnoitered the terrain, and prepared for a crossing and assault. Scouts had operated on both the Manchurian and Korean sides of the river. Major Nakano had conducted frequent personal reconnaissance and had dispatched platoon and patrol leaders, all heavy-weapons observation teams, and even the battalion doctor to Sozan Hill, to Chiangchunfeng, and close to enemy positions. In Korean garb and often leading oxen, the scouts had threaded their way through the Changkufeng sector, sometimes holing up for the night to observe Soviet movements, soil and topography, and levels of illumination. From this data, Nakano had prepared reference materials necessary for an assault. Hirahara, then located at Kucheng BGU Headquarters, had established three observation posts on high ground to the rear. After Chiangchunfeng had been occupied, Hirahara had set up security positions and routes there. Regarding Changkufeng, he had sought to ensure that even the lowest private studied the layout. Formation commanders such as Takeshita had volunteered frequently. Sato had also utilized engineers. Since the order to leave his station on 17 July, Lieutenant Colonel Kobayashi had had his regiment engage in scouting routes, bridges, and potential fords. Sato's 1st Company commander had prepared a sketch during 3% hours of reconnaissance across from Hill 52 during the afternoon of 18 July. Captain Yamada's intelligence had contributed to the tactical decisions and to knowledge of Russian strength and preparations. The most important information had been his evaluation of attack approaches, suggesting an offensive from the western side, preferably against the right flank or frontally. This concept had been the one applied by the regiment in its night assault two weeks later; Yamada had died on the green slopes he had scanned. Cloudy Saturday, 30 July, had drawn to a close. The moment had been at hand for the 75th Regiment to storm the Russians atop Changkufeng. Setting out from Fangchuanting at 22:30, Nakano's battalion, about 350 strong, had assembled at a fork one kilometer southwest of Changkufeng. The roads had been knee-deep in mud due to intermittent rain and downpours on 29–30 July. Now the rain had subsided, but clouds had blotted out the sky after the waning moon had set at 22:30. Led by Sakata's 1st Platoon leader, the men had marched silently toward the southern foot of Changkufeng; the murk had deepened and the soldiers could see no more than ten meters ahead. It had taken Sakata's men less than an hour to push forward the last 1,000 meters to the jump-off point, where they had waited another two hours before X-hour arrived. Scouts had advanced toward the first row of wire, 200–300 meters away. Platoon Leader Amagasa had infiltrated the positions alone and had reconnoitered the southeastern side of the heights. Sakata had heard from the patrols about the entanglements and their distance and makeup. While awaiting paths to be cut by engineer teams, the infantry had moved up as far as possible, 150 meters from the enemy, by 23:30. Although records described Changkufeng as quite steep, it had not been hard to climb until the main Russian positions were reached, even though there were cliffs. But as the craggy peak had been neared, the enemy defenses, which had taken advantage of rocks and dips, could not have been rushed in a bound. It had been 500 meters to the crest from the gently sloping base. The incline near the top had been steep at about 40 degrees and studded with boulders. Farther down were more soil and gravel. Grass had carpeted the foot. Japanese Army radio communications had been in their infancy; wire as well as runners had served as the main means of linking regimental headquarters with the front-line infantry, crossing-point engineers, and supporting guns across the Tumen in Korea. From Chiangchunfeng to the 1st Battalion, lines had been installed from the morning of 29 July. Combat communications had been operated by the small regimental signal unit, 27 officers and men. In general, signal traffic had been smooth and reception was good. Engineer support had been rendered by one platoon, primarily to assist with wire-cutting operations. Nakano had ordered his 1st Company to complete clearing the wire by 02:00. At 23:30 the cutters had begun their work on the right with three teams under 1st Lieutenant Inagaki. Since the proposed breach had been far from the enemy positions and there were no outposts nearby, Inagaki had pressed the work of forced clearing. The first entanglements had been breached fairly quickly, then the second. At about midnight, a dim light had etched the darkness, signaling success. There had been two gaps on the right. On the left side, Sakata's company had hoped to pierce the barbed wire in secrecy rather than by forced clearing. Only one broad belt of entanglements, actually the first and third lines, had been reconnoitered along the south and southeastern slopes. Sakata had assigned one team of infantry, with a covering squad led by Master Sergeant Amagasa, to the engineer unit under 2nd Lieutenant Nagayama. Covert clearing of a pair of gaps had begun. The Russian stakes had been a meter apart and the teams cut at the center of each section, making breaches wide enough for a soldier to wriggle through. To the rear, the infantry had crouched expectantly, while from the direction of Khasan the rumble of Soviet armor could be heard. At 00:10, when the first line of wire had been penetrated and the cutters were moving forward, the silence had been broken by the furious barking of Russian sentry dogs, and pale blue flares had burst over the slopes. As recalled by an engineer "It had been as bright as day. If only fog would cover us or it would start to rain!" At the unanticipated second line, the advancing clearing elements had drawn gunfire and grenades. But the Russians had been taken by surprise, Sakata said, and their machine guns had been firing high. Two engineers had been wounded; the security patrol on the left flank may have drawn the fire. Sakata had crawled up to Lieutenant Nagayama's cutting teams. One party had been hiding behind a rock, with a man sticking out his hand, grasping for the stake and feeling for electrified wire. Another soldier lay nearby, ready to snip the wire. The enemy had seemed to have discerned the Japanese, for the lieutenant could hear low voices. Although the cutters had been told to continue clearing in secrecy, they had by now encountered a line of low barbed wire and the work had not progressed as expected. Forced clearing had begun, which meant that the men had to stand or kneel, ignoring hostile fire and devoting primary consideration to speed. The infantrymen, unable to delay, had crawled through the wire as soon as the cutters tore a gap. Ten meters behind the small breaches, as well as in front of the Soviet positions, the Japanese had been troubled by fine low strands. They had resembled piano-wire traps, a foot or so off the ground. The wires had been invisible in the grass at night. As one soldier recalled "You couldn't disengage easily. When you tried to get out, you'd be sniped at. The wires themselves could cut a bit, too." Sakata had kept up with the clearing teams and urged them on. On his own initiative, Amagasa had his men break the first and third lines of wire by 01:50. Meanwhile, at 01:20, Nakano had phoned Sato, reporting that his forces had broken through the lines with little resistance, and had recommended that the attack be launched earlier than 2:00. Perhaps the premature alerting of the Russians had entered into Nakano's considerations. Sato had explained matters carefully, that is, rejected the suggestion, saying Changkufeng must not be taken too early, lest the enemy at Shachaofeng be alerted. The entire battalion, redeployed, had been massed for the charge up the slope. In an interval of good visibility, the troops could see as far as 40 meters ahead. A little before 02:00, Nakano had sent runners to deliver the order to advance. When the final obstructions had been cut, Nagayama had flashed a light. Then a white flag had moved in the darkness and the infantry had moved forward. Sakata's company, heading directly for Changkufeng crest, had less ground to traverse than Yamada's, and the point through which they penetrated the wire had been at the fork, where there appeared to have been only two lines to cut. The soldiers had crawled on their knees and one hand and had taken cover as soon as they got through. It had been 02:15 when the battalion traversed the barbed wire and began the offensive. The Japanese Army manual had stated that unaimed fire was seldom effective at night and that it had been imperative to avoid confusion resulting from wild shooting. At Changkufeng, the use of firearms had been forbidden by regimental order. Until the troops had penetrated the wire, bayonets had not been fixed because of the danger to friendly forces. Once through the entanglements, the men had attached bayonets, but, although their rifles had been loaded, they still had not been allowed to fire. The men had been traveling light. Instead of the 65 pounds the individual rifleman might ordinarily carry, knapsack, weapons and ammunition, tools, supplies, and clothing, each helmeted soldier had only 60 cartridges, none on his back, a haversack containing two grenades, a canteen, and a gas mask. To prevent noise, the regulations had prescribed wrapping metal parts of bayonets, canteens, sabers, mess kits, shovels, picks, and hobnails with cloth or straw. The wooden and metal parts of the shovel had been separated, the canteen filled, ammunition pouches stuffed with paper, and the bayonet sheath wrapped with cloth. Instead of boots, the men had worn web-toed, rubbersoled ground socks to muffle sound. Although their footgear had been bound with straw ropes, the soldiers occasionally had slipped in the wet grass. Considerations of security had forbidden relief of tension by talking, coughing, or smoking. Company commanders and platoon leaders had carried small white flags for hand signaling. In Sakata's company, the platoons had been distinguished by white patches of cloth hung over the gas masks on the men's backs, triangular pieces for the 1st Platoon, square for the second. Squad leaders had worn white headbands under their helmets. The company commanders had strapped on a white cross-belt; the platoon leaders, a single band. Officer casualties had proven particularly severe because the identification belts had been too conspicuous; even when the officers had lay flat, Soviet illuminating shells had made their bodies visible. On the left, the 2nd Company, 70–80 strong, had moved up with platoons abreast and scouts ahead. About 10 meters had separated the individual platoons advancing in four files; in the center were Sakata and his command team. The same setup had been used for Yamada's company and his two infantry platoons on the right. To the center and rear of the lead companies were battalion headquarters, a platoon of Nakajima's 3rd Company, and the Kitahara Machine-Gun Company, 20 meters from Nakano. The machine-gun company had differed from the infantry companies in that it had three platoons of two squads each. The machine-gun platoons had gone through the center breach in the entanglements with the battalion commander. Thereafter, they had bunched up, shoulder to shoulder and with the machine guns close to each other. Kitahara had led, two platoons forward, one back. The night had been so dark that the individual soldiers had hardly been able to tell who had been leading and who had been on the flanks. The 2nd Company had consolidated after getting through the last entanglements and had walked straight for Changkufeng crest. From positions above the Japanese, Soviet machine guns covering the wire had blazed away at a range of 50 meters. Tracers had ripped the night, but the Russians' aim had seemed high. Soviet illuminating shells, by revealing the location of dead angles among the rocks, had facilitated the Japanese approach. Fifty meters past the barbed wire, Sakata had run into the second Soviet position. From behind a big rock, four or five soldiers had been throwing masher grenades. Sakata and his command team had dashed to the rear and cut down the Russians. The captain had sabered one soldier who had been about to throw a grenade. Then Master Sergeant Onuki and the others had rushed up and overran the Russian defenses. The Japanese had not yet fired or sustained casualties. There had been no machine guns in the first position Sakata had jumped into; the trenches had been two feet deep and masked by rocks. To the right, a tent could be seen. Blind enemy firing had reached a crescendo around 02:30. The Russians had resisted with rifles, light and heavy machine guns, hand grenades, rifle grenades, flares, rapid-fire guns, and a tank cannon. "The hill had shaken, but our assault unit had advanced, disregarding the heavy resistance and relying only on the bayonet." The battalion commander, Major Nakano, had been the first officer to be hit. Moving to the left of Sakata's right-hand platoon, he had rushed up, brandishing his sword, amid ear-splitting fire and day-like flashes. He had felled an enemy soldier and then another who had been about to get him from behind. But a grenade had exploded and he had dropped, with his right arm hanging grotesquely and many fragments embedded in his chest and left arm. After regaining consciousness, Nakano had yelled at soldiers rushing to help him: "You fools! Charge on! Never mind me." Staggering to his feet, he had leaned on his sword with his left hand and pushed up the slope after the assault waves, while "everybody had been dashing around like mad." Sakata had encountered progressive defenses and more severe fire. The main body of the company had lost contact with other elements after getting through the entanglements. Sakata had thought that he had already occupied an edge of Changkufeng, but about 30 meters ahead stood a sharp-faced boulder, two or three meters high, from which enormous numbers of grenades had been lobbed. The Japanese, still walking, had come across another Soviet position, manned by four or five grenadiers. Sword in hand, Sakata had led Sergeant Onuki and his command team in a rush : "The enemy was about to take off as we jumped them. One Russian jabbed the muzzle of his rifle into my stomach at the moment I had my sword raised overhead. He pulled the trigger but the rifle did not go off. I cut him down before he could get me. The others ran away, but behind them they left grenades with pins pulled. Many of my men fell here and I was hit in the thighs".  Onuki had felled two or three Russians behind Sakata, then disposed of an enemy who had been aiming at Sakata from the side. It had been around 03:00. On the right, the 1st Company had made relatively faster progress along the western slopes after having breached two widely separated belts of barbed wire. Once through the second wire, the troops had found a third line, 150 meters behind, and enemy machine guns had opened fire. Thereupon, a left-platoon private first class had taken a "do or die" forced clearing team, rushed 15 meters ahead of the infantry, and tore a path for the unit. At 03:00, Yamada had taken his men in a dash far up the right foot of the hill, overran the unexpected position, and captured two rapid-fire guns. The company's casualties had been mounting. Yamada had been hit in the chest but had continued to cheer his troops on. At 03:30, he had led a rush against the main objective, tents up the hill, behind the antitank guns. Yamada had cut down several bewildered soldiers in the tents, but had been shot again in the chest, gasping "Tenno Heika Banzai!" "Long Live the Emperor!", and had fallen dead. His citation had noted that he had "disrupted the enemy's rear after capturing the forwardmost positions and thus furnished the key to the ultimate rout of the whole enemy line." Sergeant Shioda, though wounded badly, and several of the men had picked up their commander's body and moved over to join Lieutenant Inagaki. On the left, Kadowaki had charged into the tents with his platoon and had played his part in interfering with the Russian rear. After this rush, the unit had been pinned down by fire from machine-gun emplacements, and Kadowaki had been wounded seriously. His platoon had veered left while watching for an opportunity to charge. Eventual contact had been made with Sakata's company.   The assault on the right flank had been failing. With the death of Yamada, command of the company had been assumed temporarily by Inagaki. He and his right-flank platoon had managed to smash their way through the entanglements; Inagaki had sought to rush forward, sword in hand. Furious firing by Soviet machine guns, coupled with hand grenades, had checked the charge. Losses had mounted. Still another effort had bogged down in the face of enemy reinforcements, supported not only by covered but by tank-mounted machine guns. Russian tanks and trucks had appeared to be operating behind Changkufeng. Sergeant Shioda had been trying to keep the attack moving. Again and again, he had pushed toward the Soviet position with five of his surviving men, to no avail. The left-flank platoon had sought to evade the fierce fire by taking advantage of rock cover and hurling grenades. Finally, a private first class had lobbed in a grenade, rushed the machine gun, and silenced the weapon. By now, precious time and lives had been lost. Either instinctively or by order, the 1st Company had been shifting to the left, away from the core of the enemy fire-net. Inagaki had decided to veer left in a wide arc to outflank Changkufeng from the same side where the 2nd Company and most of the battalion were at-tacking. There would be no further attempts to plunge between the lake and the heights or to head for the crest from the rear. Military maps had indicated tersely that remnants of the 1st Company had displaced to the 2nd Company area at 04:00, sometime after the last charge on the right by Yamada. On the left front, in the sector facing the main defenses on Changkufeng crest, Sakata had fallen after being hit by a grenade. A machine gunner had improvised a sling. "I had lost a lot of blood," Sakata had said, "and there were no medics. Onuki, my command team chief who had been acting platoon leader, had been killed around here. I had ordered Warrant Officer Kuriyama to take the company and push on until I could catch up." As Sakata lay on the ground, he had seen the battalion commander and the Nakajima company move past him in the darkness. Nakano had said not a word; Sakata had not known the major had been maimed. "I still hadn't felt intense pain," Sakata had recalled. "I had rested after the first bad feelings. In about 15 minutes I had felt well enough to move up the hill and resume command of my company." With both Nakano and Sakata wounded, individual officers or noncoms had kept the assault moving. The 1st Platoon leader, Kuriyama, had been securing the first position after overrunning it but had become worried about the main force. On his own initiative, he had brought his men up the hill to join the rest of the company, while the battalion aide, 2nd Lieutenant Nishimura, had made arrangements to deploy the heavy machine guns and reserve infantry in support. Before 4 A.M., these troops under Kitahara and Nakajima had caught up with the remnants of the 2nd Company, which had pressed beyond the third position to points near the Soviet Crestline.   By the time Sakata had regained his feet and moved toward the peak, somewhere between 03:30 and 04:00, the Japanese had been pinned down. Most of the losses had been incurred at this point. "Iron fragments, rock, sand, blood, and flesh had been flying around," Akaishizawa had written. Grenades had caused the preponderance of wounds after the men had penetrated the barbed wire. Deaths had been inflicted mainly by the Soviet "hurricane" of small arms and machine-gun fire and by ricochets ripping from man to man. Six Russian heavy weapons had kept up a relentless fire from three emplacements, and milk-bottle-shaped grenades had continued to thud down on the Japanese. The grenades had hindered the advance greatly. Mainly at the crest, but at every firing position as well, the Russians had used rifle grenades, primarily to eliminate dead angles in front of positions. There had been low piano wire between firing points, and yellow explosive had been planted amidst rock outcroppings and in front of the emplacements. "The Russians had relied exclusively on fire power; there had been no instance of a brave enemy charge employing cold steel." Only 20 meters from the entrenchments atop Changkufeng, Kitahara had been striving to regain the initiative and to hearten the scattered, reeling troops. One Japanese Army motto had concerned the mental attitude of commanders: "When surprised by the enemy, pause for a smoke." Kitahara had stood behind a rock, without a helmet, puffing calmly on a cigarette—a sight which had cheered the men. Sakata could not forget the scene. "It really happened," he had said, respectfully. As soon as Sakata had reached the forward lines, he had joined Kitahara (the senior officer and de facto battalion commander till then) and three enlisted men. All had been pinned behind the large boulder, the only possible cover, which had jutted in front of the Soviet crestline positions. Fire and flame had drenched the slopes, grenades from the peak, machine guns from the flank. The eastern skies had been brightening and faces could be discerned. Troubled by the stalemate yet not feeling failure, Sakata had said nothing about his own wounds but had told Kitahara he would lead his 2nd Company in a last charge up the left side of Changkufeng if only the machine gun company could do something about the enemy fire, especially some Soviet tanks which had been shooting from the right. "The enemy must have learned by now," the regimental records had observed, "that our forces were scanty, for the Soviets exposed the upper portions of their bodies over the breastworks, sniped incessantly, and lobbed illuminating shells at us." Agreeing with Sakata that the "blind" Japanese would have to take some kind of countermeasure to allow his two available heavy machine guns to go into concerted action, Kitahara had ordered illuminating rounds fired by the grenade dischargers. He had clambered atop the boulder and squatted there amidst the furious crossfire to spot for his guns, still only 20 meters from the Russian lines. Perhaps it had been the golden spark of Kitahara's cigarette, perhaps it had been the luminescence of his cross-bands, but hardly a moment later, at 04:03 am, a sniper's bullet had caught the captain between the eyes and he had toppled to his death. Nakajima had wanted to support Sakata's stricken company as well. The lieutenant had seen the advantage of outflanking the emplacements from the far left of Changkufeng where the fire of two Soviet heavy machine guns had been particularly devastating. Nakajima had swung his reserve unit around the crest to the southwest side, pressed forward through deadly grenade attacks, and had managed to reach a point ten meters from the Russian positions. Perched on the cliff's edge, he had prepared to continue: "Nakajima, who had been calming his men and looking for a chance to advance, leaped up and shouted, "Right now! Charge!" Sword in hand, he led his forces to the front on the left and edged up against the crest emplacements. But the enemy did not recoil; grenades and machine gun fusillades burst from above on all sides. Men fell, one after another. [During this final phase, a platoon leader and most of the key noncoms were killed.] A runner standing near Nakajima was hit in the head by a grenade and collapsed. Nakajima picked up the soldier's rifle, took cover behind a boulder, and tried to draw a bead on a Russian sniper whom he could see dimly 20 meters away through the lifting mist. But a bullet hit him in the left temple and he pitched forward, weakly calling, "Long Live the Emperor!" A PFC held the lieutenant up and pleaded with him to hang on, but the company commander's breath grew fainter and his end was at hand. The time was 4:10 am". Nakajima's orderly said of the event "Lieutenant Nakajima charged against the highest key point on Changkufeng, leading the reserve unit, and ensured the seizure of the hill. The lieutenant was wearing the boots which I had always kept polished but which he had never worn till this day." Akaishizawa added that Nakajima had purified himself in the waters of the Tumen before entering combat, in traditional fashion. Lieutenant Yanagihara had penned a tribute to his young fellow officer, the resolute samurai "Lt. Nakajima must have been expecting a day like today. He was wearing brand-new white underclothes and had wrapped his body with white cloth and the thousand-stitch stomach band which his mother had made for him. .. . Was not the lieutenant's end the same as we find in an old tanka verse? "Should you ask what is the Yamato spirit, the soul of Japan: It is wild cherry blossoms glowing in the rising sun."  On this main attack front, Soviet heavy machine guns and tanks had continued to deliver withering fire against the Japanese remnants, while Russian snipers and grenadiers had taken an increasing toll. Shortly after 04:00, enemy reinforcements had appeared at the northeast edge. Of the company commanders, only Sakata had still been alive; the other three officers had died between 03:30 and 04:30. A machine gunner who had been pinned down near the crest had commented: "It must have been worse than Hill 203" (of bloody Russo-Japanese War fame). Between a half and two-thirds of each company had been dead or wounded by then. Sakata had still been thinking of ways to rush the main positions. After Kitahara had been shot down, he had moved around to investigate. A colleague had added: "The agony of the captain's wounds had been increasing. He rested several times to appease the pain while watching intently for some chance to charge once more." Now, Sakata had been wounded again by grenade fragments tearing into the right side of his face. "It hadn't been serious," Sakata had insisted. As he had limped about, he could see his platoon leader, Kuriyama, sniping at a Russian grenadier.   Much would depend on the effectiveness of supporting firepower. With the death of Kitahara, control of the machine-gun company had been assumed by Master Sergeant Harayama. There had been almost no time to coordinate matters before Kitahara had fallen, but Harayama as well as Sakata had known that the infantry could not break loose until the Soviet heavy weapons had been suppressed. Working with another sergeant, Harayama had ordered his gunners to displace forward and rush the positions 20 meters away. The one heavy machine gun set up for action had been the first to fire for the Japanese side at Changkufeng, after its crew had manhandled it the last few meters to the first Soviet trench below the crest. The trench had been empty. Thereupon, the gunner had opened up against tents which could be seen 20 meters to the rear. Other friendly machine guns had begun to chatter. Kuriyama had dashed up and secured the southeast edge of the heights. Enemy resistance had begun to slacken. What appeared to be two small Soviet tanks, actually a tank and a tractor had been laying down fire near the tents in an apparent effort to cover a pullback. The two vehicles had advanced toward the Japanese and sought to neutralize the heavy machine guns. A squad leader had engaged the tractor, set it afire, and shot down the crewmen when they had tried to flee. Next, the tank had been stopped. The Japanese lead gun had consumed all of its armor-piercing (AP) ammunition—three clips, or 90 rounds—in 10 or 15 seconds. No more AP ammunition had been available; one box had been with the last of the six squads struggling up the heights. "More AP!" had yelled the 1st Squad leader, signaling with his hand—which had at that moment been hit by a Russian slug. A tank machine-gun bullet had also torn through the thumb and into the shoulder of the squad's machine gunner, whereupon the 21-year-old loader had taken over the piece. Similar replacements had occurred under fire in all squads, sometimes more than once in the same unit. "It had been a fantastic scene," Sakata had commented. "Just like grasshoppers! But they had finally neutralized the heavy weapons." The knocked-out Russian vehicles had begun to blaze while the eastern skies had lightened. New enemy tanks (some said many, others merely three) had lumbered up the slopes, but the Japanese heavy machine guns had continued to fire on them, and the tanks had stopped. If the machine guns had gone into action minutes later, the Russian armor might have continued to the top, from which they could have ripped up the surviving Japanese infantrymen: "So we gunners fired and fired. I could see my tracers bouncing off the armor, for there was still no AP. We also shot at machine guns and infantry. Since we carried little ammo for the night attack, my gun ran out, but by then the enemy had been ousted. We had originally expected that we might have to fire in support of the infantry after they took the crest. We lost none of our own heavy machine guns that night, overran four Maxims and captured mountains of hand grenades. By dawn, however, our machine gun company had lost more than half of its personnel—about 40 men".  The light-machine-gun squad leader had been wounded in the hand by a grenade near the site where Sakata had been hit. Nevertheless, the superior private had clambered up the slope with his men. After 04:00, when he and his squad had been pinned down with the infantry below the crest, he had heard Japanese heavy machine guns firing toward the foe on the right: "Our units were in confusion, bunched up under terrific fire in a small area. Getting orders was impossible, so I had my light machine gun open up in the same direction at which the heavies were firing. We could identify no targets but tried to neutralize the enemy located somewhere on the crest. Although Soviet flares were going off, we never could glimpse the enemy clearly. But we heard the Russians yelling "Hurrah!" That ought to have been the signal for a charge; here it meant a retreat".  But, of the ten men in this Japanese machine-gun squad, only four had been in action when dawn had come. The turning point had arrived when the machine-guns belonging to Sakata, and the reserves of the late Nakajima, had torn into the Russian emplacements, tanks, and tents behind. Others had said the key had been the fire of grenade dischargers belonging to the same units. A high-angle weapon, the grenade discharger, had been light, effective, and ideal for getting at dead space. In terms of ammunition, it had been especially useful, for it could fire hand grenades available to the foot soldier. Undoubtedly, the combined action of the grenade dischargers and machine guns (heavy and light) had paved the way for a last charge by the infantry. The four light machine guns of the 2nd and 4th companies had played their part by pouring flank fire against the Russians, who had clung to the position although Kuriyama's platoon had made an initial penetration. At about 04:30, Japanese assault forces could be seen dimly, in the light of dawn, exchanging fire with the Russians only a few meters away on the southern edge of Changkufeng Hill. At the same time, on the northern slopes, enemy reinforcements numbering 50 men with trucks and tanks had been scaling the hill. Around 04:45, Japanese grenades began to burst over the heads of the last enemy atop Changkufeng; the Russians had wavered. After the heavy weapons had finally begun to soften up the Soviet positions, Sakata had judged that there were not many Russians left. He had jumped into the first trench, ahead of his only surviving platoon leader, Kuriyama, and several soldiers. Two or three Russians had been disposed of; the rest had fled. By then the 2nd Company had been chopped down to a platoon; about 40 men still lived. There had been no cheer of banzai, as journalists had written; it would have drawn fire to stand up and raise one's arms. But Sakata had remained proud of the assertion by Sato that, from Chiangchunfeng, he had observed the last rush and knew the "real story," that "Sakata was the first to charge the peak." The regimental eulogist had written that Sakata's earnestness "cut through iron, penetrated mountains, and conquered bodily pain." As for Inagaki, about 15 or 20 minutes after the badly wounded Sakata had managed to reach the point where Kitahara and Nakajima had been pinned down near the Crestline, the lieutenant had arrived with the remnants of Yamada's company, probably by 04:20. The records would have us believe that Sakata had been able to coordinate the next actions with Inagaki despite the storm of fire: "The acting battalion commander [Sakata] resumed the charge with a brand-new deployment—his 2nd Company on the right wing and the 1st Company on the left." Actually, all Sakata could think of had been to charge; it had been too confused a time to issue anything like normal orders as acting battalion commander: "About all I remember asking Inagaki was: "What are you doing over here? What happened to your company commander?" I think he told me that Yamada had been killed and resistance on the right flank had been severe. Undoubtedly, he acted on his own initiative in redeploying. Nor was there any particular liaison between my company and Inagaki's force." To the left of Sakata's survivors were the vestiges of Nakajima's platoon, and further to the left, the outflanking troops brought up by Inagaki. These forces gradually edged up to the rear of the foe, in almost mass formation, on the western slope just below the top. "The enemy soldiers who had been climbing up the northern incline suddenly began to retreat, and Inagaki led a charge, fighting dauntlessly hand-to-hand." As a result of the more or less concerted Japanese assaults, "the desperately resisting enemy was finally crushed and Changkufeng peak was retaken completely by 05:15," three hours after the night attackers had jumped off. Akaishizawa had said that the troops "pushed across the peak through a river of blood and a mountain of corpses. Who could withstand our demons?" Sato's regimental attack order had called for the firing of a green star shell to signal success. At 05:15, according to the records, "the signal flared high above Changkufeng, showering green light upon the hill; the deeply stirring Japanese national flag floated on the top." Sakata thought that this must have been 10 or 20 minutes after the hill was taken, but he remembered no flare. "After the last charge I had no time to watch the sky!" The flare had probably been fired from a grenade launcher by the battalion aide or a headquarters soldier. After the final close-quarter fighting, Sakata had pressed forward while the survivors came up. The captain had deployed his men against possible counterattack. Later he had heard that Soviet tanks had lumbered up to reinforce the peak or to counterattack but that, when they observed the Japanese in possession of the crest, they had turned back. Only after his men had secured the peak had Sakata talked to Inagaki about sharing defensive responsibility. The records described Sakata's deployments at 05:20, but there had been painfully few men to match the tidy after-action maps. Did Sakata and his men push across the peak? "Not downhill a bit," he had answered. "We advanced only to the highest spot, the second, or right-hand peak, where we could command a view of the hostile slope." He had merely reconnoitered to deploy his troops. The senior surviving Japanese officer atop Changkufeng heights had been Sakata. What had happened to Major Nakano, who had been wounded shortly after jump-off? Although his right arm had been shattered, he had dragged himself to his feet, once he had regained consciousness, and kept climbing to catch up. His men had pleaded with him to look after his terrible wounds, but he had insisted on advancing, leaning on his sword and relying on spiritual strength. "Left! Move left!" he had been heard to shout, for the faltering Japanese had apparently been of the opinion that they were at the enemy's rear. Instead, they had pressed against the Russians' western wing, directly in front of the enemy works, from which murderous fire had been directed, especially from machine-gun nests ripping at their flanks. With sword brandished in his uninjured hand, high above his head, Nakano had stood at the corner of the positions. The explosion of an enemy grenade had illuminated him "like the god of fire," and he had been seen to crumple. He had died a little before 0500, to the left of where young Nakajima had fallen at 0430. His citation had said: "The battalion commander captured Changkufeng, thanks to his proper combat guidance and deployments. He provided the incentive to victory in the Changkufeng Incident." A eulogist had called Nakano a "human-bullet demon-unit commander": "All who observed this scene were amazed, for it was beyond mortal strength. One could see how high blazed the flame of his faith in certain victory and what a powerful sense of responsibility he had as unit commander. Major Nakano was a model soldier." When Nakano had pitched forward, badly wounded PFC Imamura had tried to protect the commander's corpse. Imamura had killed a soldier who appeared from behind a boulder, had lunged at another two or three, but had toppled off the cliff. Two other Japanese privates—a battalion runner and PFC Iwata—had been lying nearby, hurt seriously; but when they saw Imamura fall to his death, leaving the major's body undefended, they had dragged themselves to the corpse, four meters from the foe. Iwata, crippled and mute, had hugged Nakano's corpse until other soldiers managed to retrieve it. While death had come to Nakano, Sakata had been fighting with no knowledge of what was going on to his left. Pinned behind a boulder, he had had no way of checking on the battalion commander. Only after Sakata had charged onto the crest and asked for the major had he been told by somebody that Nakano had been killed. He had not even been sure where the commander had fallen. Such had been the time of blood and fury when battalion chief, company commanders, and platoon leaders had fought and died like common soldiers, pressing on with saber or pistol or sniping rifle under relentless cross-fire. Pretty patterns of textbook control had meant nothing. Life—and victory—depended on training, initiative, raw courage, and the will to win. The result of this combination of wills could not be ascertained, on 31 July 1938, until dawn brightened the bleeding earth on Changkufeng Hill. 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. Tokyo gambled on a night strike to seize Changkufeng, while diplomacy urged restraint. Amid mud, smoke, and moonless skies, Nakano led the 1st Battalion, supported by Nakajima, Sakata, Yamada, and others. One by one, officers fell, wounds multiplying, but resolve held. By 05:15, shattered units regrouped atop the peak, the flag rising as dawn bled into a costly, hard-won victory.

Prime Minister Tojo Hideki planned two major offensives for 1944 which he hoped would reverse the Empire of Japan's fortunes in the Pacific War while Allied forces continued to make costly but successful incursions onto Japanese territory.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!

Driven by extensive Japanese primary sources, Gamble in the Coral Sea: Japan's Offensive, the Carrier Battle, and the Road to Midway (Naval Institute Press, 2025) offers an operational analysis of the first clash of aircraft carriers at the pivotal Battle of the Coral Sea from the Japanese perspective, including leadership, tactics, and errors that brought a numeric victory but a strategic loss for Japan that halted their bold advance into the South Pacific and ultimately set the stage for Midway. The opening salvos of the Battle of the Coral Sea, the first large-scale carrier clash in history, were fired one month before Midway. Gamble in the Coral Sea recounts, for the first time in English, the story of this battle from the Japanese point of view. Based on extensive Japanese-language sources, author Michal A. Piegzik forcefully challenges established Western narratives surrounding this critical engagement in the Pacific War. Operation MO, the Japanese plan to seize Port Moresby, kicked off in early May 1942. By committing three carriers, including the famous Shōkaku and Zuikaku, the Nippon Kaigun's command risked a critical part of their fleet just before the envisaged decisive battle at Midway in the Central Pacific, scheduled for early July. The operation was considered a vital part of Japanese strategy. Victory would isolate Australia and New Zealand and extend access to vital resources crucial to Japan's war effort. Victory, however, would prove elusive after American codebreakers deciphered Japanese radio traffic that revealed their plans in the weeks leading up to the launch of Operation MO. Using this intelligence to their advantage, U.S forces located elements of the Japanese navy as they steamed through the Coral Sea. Soon after, history's first carrier battle began. Piegzik combines expertise in military history with mastery of the Japanese language to provide a rare perspective on the Imperial Japanese Navy's operational choices during the battle. His use of Japanese archival documents and personal testimonies from surviving Japanese crew members uncovers new dimensions to the battle. The clash proved to be a Pyrrhic victory for the Japanese, who sunk the Lexington and crippled the Yorktown but were forced to call off Operation MO due to the severe damage inflicted on Shōkaku and the heavy losses among their aircrews. Revealed here are the circumstances and actual reasons for the Japanese failure and the revised impact of the Battle of the Coral Sea on the Battle of Midway. Beyond tactical details, Piegzik offers insight into the broader consequences of the battle. He engages with sources previously underexplored and integrates them with Allied perspectives to ensure a well-rounded understanding of the events. A vital addition to any World War II collection, Gamble in the Coral Sea offers a nuanced and thorough exploration of a battle that significantly shaped the trajectory of the war in the Pacific. 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

Driven by extensive Japanese primary sources, Gamble in the Coral Sea: Japan's Offensive, the Carrier Battle, and the Road to Midway (Naval Institute Press, 2025) offers an operational analysis of the first clash of aircraft carriers at the pivotal Battle of the Coral Sea from the Japanese perspective, including leadership, tactics, and errors that brought a numeric victory but a strategic loss for Japan that halted their bold advance into the South Pacific and ultimately set the stage for Midway. The opening salvos of the Battle of the Coral Sea, the first large-scale carrier clash in history, were fired one month before Midway. Gamble in the Coral Sea recounts, for the first time in English, the story of this battle from the Japanese point of view. Based on extensive Japanese-language sources, author Michal A. Piegzik forcefully challenges established Western narratives surrounding this critical engagement in the Pacific War. Operation MO, the Japanese plan to seize Port Moresby, kicked off in early May 1942. By committing three carriers, including the famous Shōkaku and Zuikaku, the Nippon Kaigun's command risked a critical part of their fleet just before the envisaged decisive battle at Midway in the Central Pacific, scheduled for early July. The operation was considered a vital part of Japanese strategy. Victory would isolate Australia and New Zealand and extend access to vital resources crucial to Japan's war effort. Victory, however, would prove elusive after American codebreakers deciphered Japanese radio traffic that revealed their plans in the weeks leading up to the launch of Operation MO. Using this intelligence to their advantage, U.S forces located elements of the Japanese navy as they steamed through the Coral Sea. Soon after, history's first carrier battle began. Piegzik combines expertise in military history with mastery of the Japanese language to provide a rare perspective on the Imperial Japanese Navy's operational choices during the battle. His use of Japanese archival documents and personal testimonies from surviving Japanese crew members uncovers new dimensions to the battle. The clash proved to be a Pyrrhic victory for the Japanese, who sunk the Lexington and crippled the Yorktown but were forced to call off Operation MO due to the severe damage inflicted on Shōkaku and the heavy losses among their aircrews. Revealed here are the circumstances and actual reasons for the Japanese failure and the revised impact of the Battle of the Coral Sea on the Battle of Midway. Beyond tactical details, Piegzik offers insight into the broader consequences of the battle. He engages with sources previously underexplored and integrates them with Allied perspectives to ensure a well-rounded understanding of the events. A vital addition to any World War II collection, Gamble in the Coral Sea offers a nuanced and thorough exploration of a battle that significantly shaped the trajectory of the war in the Pacific. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

Driven by extensive Japanese primary sources, Gamble in the Coral Sea: Japan's Offensive, the Carrier Battle, and the Road to Midway (Naval Institute Press, 2025) offers an operational analysis of the first clash of aircraft carriers at the pivotal Battle of the Coral Sea from the Japanese perspective, including leadership, tactics, and errors that brought a numeric victory but a strategic loss for Japan that halted their bold advance into the South Pacific and ultimately set the stage for Midway. The opening salvos of the Battle of the Coral Sea, the first large-scale carrier clash in history, were fired one month before Midway. Gamble in the Coral Sea recounts, for the first time in English, the story of this battle from the Japanese point of view. Based on extensive Japanese-language sources, author Michal A. Piegzik forcefully challenges established Western narratives surrounding this critical engagement in the Pacific War. Operation MO, the Japanese plan to seize Port Moresby, kicked off in early May 1942. By committing three carriers, including the famous Shōkaku and Zuikaku, the Nippon Kaigun's command risked a critical part of their fleet just before the envisaged decisive battle at Midway in the Central Pacific, scheduled for early July. The operation was considered a vital part of Japanese strategy. Victory would isolate Australia and New Zealand and extend access to vital resources crucial to Japan's war effort. Victory, however, would prove elusive after American codebreakers deciphered Japanese radio traffic that revealed their plans in the weeks leading up to the launch of Operation MO. Using this intelligence to their advantage, U.S forces located elements of the Japanese navy as they steamed through the Coral Sea. Soon after, history's first carrier battle began. Piegzik combines expertise in military history with mastery of the Japanese language to provide a rare perspective on the Imperial Japanese Navy's operational choices during the battle. His use of Japanese archival documents and personal testimonies from surviving Japanese crew members uncovers new dimensions to the battle. The clash proved to be a Pyrrhic victory for the Japanese, who sunk the Lexington and crippled the Yorktown but were forced to call off Operation MO due to the severe damage inflicted on Shōkaku and the heavy losses among their aircrews. Revealed here are the circumstances and actual reasons for the Japanese failure and the revised impact of the Battle of the Coral Sea on the Battle of Midway. Beyond tactical details, Piegzik offers insight into the broader consequences of the battle. He engages with sources previously underexplored and integrates them with Allied perspectives to ensure a well-rounded understanding of the events. A vital addition to any World War II collection, Gamble in the Coral Sea offers a nuanced and thorough exploration of a battle that significantly shaped the trajectory of the war in the Pacific. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/military-history

Resistance grows in the Philippines as Allied forces in the Pacific continue making incursions onto Japanese territory. Meanwhile, a new offensive effort in China as well as a fresh German offensive against Russia threatens to tilt the war back in favor of the Axis Powers.If you'd like to read more about the women who fought in the Filipino resistance to the Japanese occupation, get Pinay Guerrilleras here!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!

In this the first comprehensive treatment of Pearl Harbor since the early 1990s, respected Pacific War naval historian Mark E. Stille traces the road to war and the Japanese attack itself. Stille challenges the conventional narrative that Japan's sneak attack was brilliantly planned and well executed.

Last time we spoke about the beginning of a conflict between the USSR and Japan. In the frost-hardened dawns by the Chaun and Tumen, two powers eye a ridge called Changkufeng, each seeing a prize and fearing a trap. On the Soviet side, weary front-line troops tighten their grip, while Moscow's diplomats coaxed restraint through Seoul and Harbin.  As July unfolds, Tokyo's generals push a dangerous idea: seize the hill with a surprise strike, then bargain for peace. Seoul's 19th Division is readied in secret, trains loaded with men and horses, movement masked, prayers whispered to avoid widening the rift. Japanese scouts in white Hanbok disguise, peering at trenches, wire, and watchful Russians. Russian border guards appear as shadows, counters slipping into place, yet both sides hold their fire. On July 29, a skirmish erupts: a platoon crosses a shallow line, clashes flare, and bodies and banners ripple in the cold air.    #178 Night Attacks and Diplomatic Strains: The Lake Khasan Conflict 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. A second troop train was scheduled to depart Agochi for Nanam on the night of 29 July, carrying back the initial elements of the 75th Infantry. At Haigan, regimental commander Sato was pulling on his boots at 16:00 when the division informed him that fighting had broken out near Shachaofeng since 15:00 and that the Russians were assembling forces in that area. Suetaka ordered Sato's 3rd Battalion, which had not been slated to leave until the following night, to proceed to Kucheng; the remainder of the regiment was to assemble at Agochi. After consulting with Division Staff Officer Saito at Agochi, Sato returned to Haigan with the conclusion that "overall developments did not warrant optimism, it was imperative to prepare to move the entire regiment to the battlefield." One of Sato's first actions was to telephone a recommendation to the division that he be allowed to occupy Hill 52, which commanded the approaches to Changkufeng from south of Khasan. Suetaka approved, and at 17:30, Yamada's company was ordered to proceed to Shikai along with Hirahara's battalion. Meanwhile, Suzuki's 15th Heavy Field Artillery Regiment, which had been among the last units ordered to leave, had finished loading at Agochi by about 15:00. Sato recommended to Suetaka that a portion of Suzuki's regiment be attached to him; this was why Suetaka decided to transfer one of the two batteries to the 75th Infantry. The rest of the heavy artillery concentrated at Kyonghun. Suetaka's orders, issued at 18:20, called for Sato to have two of his battalions, the 1st and 3rd, cross the Tumen as soon as possible, with engineer support. Attached was Narukawa's heavy battery. Sato's mission was twofold: to assist Senda and to watch the enemy in the Changkufeng area. Sato arrived at 21:15 in Shikai. There, he assembled a number of his officers, including Yamada, and explained his plan: the 1st Company plus machine guns were to cross the Tumen from Sozan ahead of the other units, occupy Hill 52 with an element, and concentrate the main body at the foot of Fangchuanting to await Hirahara's battalion. A portion of the 19th Engineers would go to Sozan to assist the 1st Company with its river crossing. Amid heavy rain and darkness, the various units set out at 22:15. The platoon sent to Hill 52 arrived before dawn on the 30th, the rest of the forces somewhat later, though Sato had intended to move everybody across the river by the early hours. On the 29th the engineer regiment commander, Kobayashi, had also arrived at Shikai. He ordered Captain Tomura to handle the crossing in the vicinity of Sozan, as well as preparations for a future offensive with the main body. When Kobayashi reached Kucheng, he learned from Hirahara not only about the front-line situation but also about Sato's important plans: "The K. Sato force is going to cross the river tonight, 29–30 July. A night attack will be launched against Changkufeng on the night of 30–31 July." Kobayashi issued orders to his two commanders to assist the crossing by Nakano's infantry unit, 1st Battalion, 75th Regiment at Matsu'otsuho and Sozan, and, in addition, to cooperate with the position attack by Nakano and help in the assault at Hill 52. Most of these young officers, such as Seutaka dishing out orders were performing what the Japanese termed "dokudan senko" or "arbitrary or independent action". Japanese operational regulations actually contained a section dealing with dokudan senko, by which initiative, not imperiousness, was meant. Two elements were involved: control but encouragement of self-reliant thinking. This subject became important in training officers, all of whom, including such infantry experts as Suetaka, were well acquainted with the requirements. Combat missions were stipulated in operations orders, but, if these were not realistic, initiative was to come into play, though only when there was no time to contact superiors. By the same token, commanders had to be ready to assume full responsibility if matters turned out adversely. "We were disciples of the 'Moltke' system of AGS control, with dual authority vis-à-vis the local forces and the chief of staff."  The Korea Army's version of events on 29 July, there was no mention of any report received from the division prior to 17:30. Details did not reach Seoul, in the form of printed divisional intelligence reports and operational orders, until 1 August. The late afternoon report from Kyonghun provided the Korea Army authorities with little solid information, but Seoul had to notify higher headquarters immediately. Kitano sent messages to Tokyo and Hsinking at 19:15. The command and Kwantung Army were told that, in addition to Senda's assault party, 40 Japanese soldiers were deployed west of Changkufeng and at Yangkuanping. The division's main forces had begun the rail pullback from the 28th, leaving behind only two infantry battalions and a mountain artillery battalion for the time being. At 21:20 on 29 July, Korea Army Headquarters received the text of Suetaka's full report, which concluded: "With a view toward a possible emergency, the division suspended movement back of the 75th Regiment and is making necessary arrangements to have them advance instead. The latest affair derives sheerly from the enemy's unlawful challenge. It is my firm belief that the nature of this incident differs completely from the one at Changkufeng and should be handled separately. At present, since communication with the forward lines is not good, Lieutenant Colonel Senda (who is at the front) has been entrusted with command, but I assume entire responsibility for the consequences." Instead of boarding their trains at Agochi, Sato's regiment and supporting engineers moved to the Manchurian side of the Tumen as soon as possible. Suetaka called Sato's 2nd Battalion to Kyonghun as divisional reserve. Subsequent dispatches claimed that: (1) Senda's unit, which had driven off intruders in the Shachaofeng area once, was engaged against new Soviet forces (sent at 18:20, 29th);  (2) Senda's unit had expelled trespassers, and a combat situation had developed near Shachaofeng (22:00, 29th);  (3) fighting was going on in the vicinity of Shachaofeng (06:40, 30th).  Korea Army Headquarters, however, obtained no more important communication concerning the events of 29 July than a report, sent that evening by Suetaka, that revealed his concern about a possible Soviet attack in the Wuchiatzu sector near the neck of the long Changkufeng appendix.  After the clash at Shachaofeng, a general officer, Morimoto, happened to be visiting Colonels Okido and Tanaka in Nanam. Both of them were said to be of the pronounced opinion that no troubles ought to be provoked with the USSR while the critical Hankow operation lay ahead; yet Suetaka apparently had some intention of striking at the Soviet intruders, using the 75th Regiment. They urged that this policy not be adopted and that Suetaka be approached directly; the channel through Y. Nakamura, the division chief of staff, was hopeless. Although in agreement, General Morimoto declined to approach Suetaka; since the latter seemed to have made up his mind, it would be inappropriate to "meddle" with his command. Suetaka was functioning as an operations chief at that time. Apart from the mobilization staff officer, who was not enthusiastic about aggressive action, the only other officer who may have affected the decisionmaking process was the Hunchun OSS chief, Maj. Tanaka Tetsujiro, a positive type who shared Suetaka's views and was probably with him on the 29th as well as 30th. Although developments at Suetaka's command post were known more as the result of silence than of elucidation, we possessed considerable information about thinking at the Korea Army level: "Suetaka contacted us only after his men had driven out the enemy near Shachaofeng. Till then, the front had been relatively quiet and we were of the opinion all or most of the deployed forces were on their way home. We at Seoul had no foreknowledge of or connection with the 29 July affair. Reports came in; we never sent specific orders. Triggered by the affray at Shachaofeng, the division attacked on its own initiative. It was our understanding that very small Japanese forces had been committed to evict a dozen enemy scouts and that, when a platoon of ours got atop the hill, they observed surprisingly huge hostile concentrations to the rear. This was probably why the platoon pulied back, although much has been made of the desire to obey the nonaggravation policy to the letter. We at Seoul felt that this was a troublesome matter—that our side had done something unnecessary. When the division finally made its report, the army had to reach some decision. There were two irreconcilable ways of looking at things. We might condemn what had been done, and the division ought to be ordered to pull out promptly, having arbitrarily and intolerably acted against the known facts that Imperial sanction for use of force had been withheld and Tokyo had directed evacuation of the moved-up units. The opposing, eventually predominant view was that the division commander's course of action ought to be approved. Perusal of small-scale maps of the locale indicated a clear violation of the frontier, something not proved in the case of Changkufeng. We shared the division commander's interpretation. His BGU had its mission, and he was acting with foresight to solve matters positively and on his own, since he was the man closest to the problem. General Nakamura felt that the latest development was inevitable; our units did not cross the Tumen until the Soviets attacked us in force. Therefore, the division's actions were approved and a report was rendered promptly to Tokyo. It could be said that our outlook served to "cover" the division commander, in a way. But if IGHQ had ordered us to desist, we would have".  Nakamura added: "I was of the opinion the only solution was to drive the Soviet troops outside Manchukuoan territory; therefore, I approved the action by the division." Such sanction had been granted on the basis of information supplied to Seoul by Suetaka on the evening of 29 July, again post facto. At 01:20 on the 30th, Nakamura wired Suetaka a message characterized by gracious phrasing that suggested his grave concern: "One ought to be satisfied with expelling from Manchurian territory the enemy attacking our unit on the . . . heights southwest of Shachaofeng. It is necessary to keep watch on the enemy for the time being, after having pulled back to the heights mentioned above, but we desire that matters be handled carefully to avoid enlargement; in case the foe has already pulled back south of Shachaofeng . . . he need not be attacked." Nakamura also sent a wire to the AGS chief, the War Minister, and the Kwantung Army commander. After conveying the information received from Suetaka, Nakamura continued: "In spite of the fact that our troops have been patient and cautious . . . this latest incident [near Shachaofeng] started with Soviet forces' arrogant border trespassing and . . . unlawful challenge. Therefore, I am convinced that this affair must be dealt with separately from the incident at Changkufeng. Nevertheless, I shall endeavor to handle matters so that the incident will not spread and shall make it my fundamental principle to be satisfied with evicting from Manchurian territory the hostile forces confronting us. The Korea Army chief of staff is being dispatched quickly to handle the incident".  The Korea Army, "painfully slow to act," says a Kwantung Army major, was merely the intermediary link, the executor of Tokyo's desires. In the case of remote Shachaofeng, there was an inevitable gap between on-the-spot occurrences and AGS reactions. By then, Arisue, Kotani, and Arao, Inada's observers, had returned to Japan—an important fact, given the "Moltke" system of staff control. Nevertheless, their return must have exerted significant effects on central operational thinking. Kotani remembered that his AGS subsection had given him a welcome-home party on the night of 29 July when an emergency phone call was received from the duty officer. "It was about the clash at Shachaofeng. The festivities came to an abrupt end and I headed for the office. From then till the cease-fire on 11 August, I remained at the AGS night and day." Since the 19th Division had furnished higher headquarters with minimal information, Tokyo, like Seoul, had only a few ostensible facts to act upon. But this had been the first combat test for the Korea Army, which needed all the encouragement and assistance possible. Although Japanese field armies, notably the Kwantung Army, were notorious for insubordination, one could not overemphasize the fact that the Korea Army was meek and tractable. If Nakamura had concluded that Suetaka acted properly (which reports from Seoul indicated), the AGS could hardly demur. It would have been unrealistic to think that Tokyo, although cautious, was "softer" about the Russian problem than front-line forces. There had been no concern over time lags; details were Seoul's province. Reaction took time at every level of the chain of command. Decision making in the Japanese Army had been a many-layered process. The Army general staff had been of the opinion that initial guidance ought to have been provided to the Korea Army soon, particularly since there had been evidence of failure to convey intentions promptly to the front and no high command staff officer remained to direct matters. After hearing from Seoul twice about the Shachaofeng affair, the responsible Army general staff officers conferred at length. Stress had been laid on the indivisibility of the Shachaofeng and Changkufeng incidents. It had also been evident that further information was required. On that basis, a "handling policy for the Shachaofeng Incident" was drafted, and Tada notified the Korea and Kwantung armies accordingly on 30 July. Nakamura had received the telegram at 16:50 and had its contents retransmitted to Kitano, then at Kyonghun: "Shachaofeng Incident is progressing along lines of our policy, leave things to local units, which have been adhering to the principle of nonenlargement. Have them report on front-line situation without fail."  The Army general staff and the Korea Army were calling for prudence, but the division, well down the rungs of the ladder of command, was initiating actions that jeopardized the government's basic policy. Earlier quibbling about restraints on "unit-size" elements crossing into Manchuria had been abandoned after the firefight near Shachaofeng on 29 July. At 15:30, Takenouchi's battalion, part of the 76th Regiment, had been directed to assist Senda near Yangkuanping; at 18:20 Suetaka was ordering the 75th Regiment to head for the Kucheng sector and be ready to assault the Russians in the Changkufeng area. Support was to be provided by Kobayashi's engineers, by Iwano's transportation men, and by Suzuki's heavy guns. Of particular interest had been Suetaka's acceptance of Sato's recommendation that elements be sent to occupy Hill 52, a measure linked with a possible Japanese attack against Changkufeng.   Sato had decided by evening that the new situation required rapid deployment of his forces across the river. At Shikai, he conducted a briefing of his officers. Suetaka's orders conveyed orally by staff officers had stipulated: "The division will take steps to secure the border line immediately, even if the situation undergoes change. The Sato unit will advance immediately to the left shore, reinforce Senda's unit, and maintain a strict watch on the enemy in the Changkufeng area." Around 23:20, the last elements ordered forward arrived at Shikai station. Sato instructed only his headquarters and the Ito company to get off. The rest of the troop train primarily the 1st [Nakano's] Battalion was to move on to Hongui. From there, the soldiers proceeded to the Tumen near Sozan. With his staff and Ito's company, Sato trudged in silence through the mud from Shikai to the shore at Matsu'otsuho, starting at 00:30 and reaching the crossing site at 03:00. Reconnaissance had proved satisfactory, Sato remembered.  At the crossings, the hardworking engineers rowed his 1st and 3rd battalions across, company by company. Near dawn, around 04:30, he traversed the river. The movement had been completed in about an hour. When Sato's infantry finally got across, they proceeded to the skirt of Fangchuanting and assembled in secrecy. Not until about 08:00 did the regimental headquarters, Ito's company, and Hirahara's battalion reach Hill 147, already held by Noguchi's company west of Changkufeng. By then, plans had fallen behind schedule by at least several hours because of difficulties in train movement forward. Sato also remembered torrential rains; other officers mentioned darkness. Members of Nakano's battalion pinpointed a shortage of engineer boats from Kucheng. Engineers rowed some boats downstream during the night, but six of them were kept at Matsu'otsuho. This left only three boats for moving the 400 men of the 1st Battalion, the unit slated to storm Changkufeng, across the river at Sozan. Sato had wanted all of his troops across well before dawn on the 30th. A division staff officer rightly thought that Suetaka had already advised Sato, in secret, to "attack at an opportune time," and that the night of 29–30 July had been intended for the surprise assault. "Perhaps there was not enough time for all the attack preparations." Kobayashi's engineers admitted problems in moving boats to Sozan: "Although the water level had gone up because of daily rains recently, there were still many shallows and the current was irregular. Not only was it hard to move downstream, but dense fog also complicated the work. Nevertheless, the units at both sites were able to accomplish the river-crossing operation approximately as scheduled".  Meanwhile, after reconnoitering Soviet defenses along the Manchurian bank, Suzuki, commander of the 15th Heavy Field Artillery Regiment, crossed the Kyonghun Bridge on 30 July with his 1st Battery and established positions on the edge of Shuiliufeng Hill. Once Captain Narukawa was attached to the 75th Infantry on 29 July, he dispatched his 2nd Battery by train to Shikai that night. Although firing sites had been surveyed northwest of Sho-Sozan, the battery had to traverse two weak, narrow bridges in the darkness. With two 15-centimeter howitzers to haul, plus five caissons and wagons, the unit faced tense moments. The gun sites themselves were worrisome: they were scarcely masked from observation from Changkufeng, and the single road to them from the unloading station ran through a paddy area and was similarly exposed. By 1200 hours on 30 July, Sato exerted operational control over the following units: his own forces, Nakano's battalion east of Fangchuanting; Hirahara's reinforced battalion west of Chiangchunfeng; a platoon from Nakajima's infantry company on Hill 52; and Noguchi's company on Hill 147; and from other forces, Senda's 2nd (Kanda) BGU Company; two reinforced companies from Takenouchi's battalion of Okido's 76th Regiment near Shachaofeng; and a 75-mm half-battery from the 25th Mountain Artillery on the Manchurian side with Sato. On the Korean shore, another half-battery comprising two 15-centimeter howitzers from Narukawa's unit of the 15th Heavy Field Artillery was in place. The 19th Engineers operated near the crossing sites, though one platoon remained at Fangchuanting. Sato said, "We were now deployed at last, to cope with any situation." His command post was set in foxholes on open ground at Chiangchunfeng, a central hill that offered excellent observation and control over actions around Changkufeng to the east and Shachaofeng to the north. Not content with suspending the pullout of units and deploying additional combat troops across the Tumen, Suetaka decided to recall division headquarters, mountain artillery, cavalry, signal, medical, and veterinary personnel from Nanam. At dawn on 30 July, Nanam issued orders for Colonel Tanaka to move 500 men and 300 horses to Agochi by rail; most of the increment came from Tanaka's horse-drawn 25th Mountain Artillery. The colonel reached the Korean side of the Tumen at 05:00 on 31 July. The preceding emergency measures were being implemented by Suetaka, even as he received Nakamura's calming telegram of 30 July enjoining nonexpansion. Changkufeng Hill was not even mentioned. Nakamura's concern was typified by Kitano flying to the front. At 10:00 on 30 July, Kitano sent the division chief of staff a cautious follow-up cable: "Based on the consistent policy for handling the Changkufeng Incident and on the army commander's earlier telegram, kindly take steps to ensure careful action in connection with the affair in the Shachaofeng vicinity lest there be enlargement." At 13:45, Nakamura transmitted another restraining message to Suetaka: "The division is to secure … Chiangchunfeng and … the heights southwest of Shachaofeng, using present front-line units. Unless there is an enemy attack, however, resort to force will depend on separate orders." Several hours later, at 16:50, Nakamura received instructions from Tada: the Shachaofeng case was being left to the local forces, who were pursuing the desired policy of nonenlargement, but prompt reporting was desired. At 19:30, the retransmitted message was received by Kitano, already at the front with Suetaka at Kyonghun. After his units had crossed the Tumen on 30 July, Sato Kotoku ordered a strict watch and directed preparations for an assault based on the plans. He conferred with Senda at Chiangchunfeng and observed the enemy. Even after dawn, the frontline commanders who had crossed the river remained uncertain about when the attack would be staged. While Sato's force conducted reconnaissance to prepare for a daytime offensive, orders arrived around 08:00 indicating, "We intend a night attack, so conceal your activities." Daytime movements were prohibited. Sato then explained the impression he had derived from Senda and the intelligence on which he based his estimates: " Exploiting the impasse in diplomatic negotiation, the enemy side had steadily reinforced front-line offensive strength and trespassed anew near Shachaofeng. They now had a battalion and a half of infantry plus 20 artillery pieces in the area, some south of Shachaofeng and the others at four positions immediately east of Lake Khasan. At least a dozen (maybe 20) tanks were deployed in the sector opposite us. About 300 well-armed, active Russian troops were at Changkufeng. I decided that an attack ought to be staged that night. First of all, we were going to chill the insolent enemy by a courageous night assault—a method characteristic of the Imperial Army. Then all kinds of fire power were to be combined in a surprise attack against the positions. Our intention was to jo lt the Russians, demonstrate the true strength of our combat fire, and, by a combination of night and dawn attacks, cut down losses which our left-flank units would have incurred if a night assault alone were staged. We had considered two plans—a night attack against Changkufeng by the 3rd Battalion from the north, or by the 1st Battalion from the south. On 30 July, I decided to execute the second plan, using my 1st (Nakano's) Battalion, to avoid simultaneous involvement around Shachaofeng where the foe was by now alerted."  The Japanese Army ordinarily favored surprise assaults without supporting guns, since firepower was regarded as secondary in close combat and artillery was in short supply. According to the regimental journal, telephone contacts from the morning of the 30th indicated that the division commander shared the same line of thinking as Sato. By noon, Suetaka made his stance explicit. A phone call from Kucheng conveyed to Sato the gist of a critical division order: first, a detailed briefing on Soviet troop concentrations and dispositions, firing positions, troops, and armor south of Shachaofeng; entanglements and forces at Changkufeng; large concentrations behind west of Khasan; tanks and ground formations moving north of the lake; a heavy concentration near the lake to the northwest; one confirmed and two suspected positions along the eastern shore and another with artillery far to the south. Then the order stated that K. Sato's forces, including the Takenouchi battalion from the 76th Infantry, one mountain artillery platoon, and one engineer platoon were to strengthen their positions and, at the same time, promptly evict from Manchurian territory the intruding and advancing enemy. However, pursuit must not be pushed too far lest the border be crossed. Shortly after noon, Suetaka issued another order to form a new force under Senda, who was to strengthen border security along the Shuiliufeng–Hunchun line. As with Sato, Senda was to eject the intruding and advancing enemy from Manchurian soil but not pursue them across the border. By midafternoon, Sato knew not only what he wanted to do but also Suetaka's intentions. At 15:30, he assembled all subordinate officers at Chiangchunfeng and dictated minute attack instructions. Intelligence indicated that the enemy continued to fortify points of importance along the Changkufeng–Shachaofeng line. Sato's plan was to annihilate hostile elements that had crossed the border north and south of Changkufeng. His concept went beyond a frontal assault. While Nakano's battalion would jump off south of Changkufeng, one reinforced company, Takeshita's 10th was to attack north. Since the sun rose at about 05:00, Sato intended to wipe out the enemy during three hours of darkness. Another battalion, Hirahara's 3rd would be held in reserve, with Ito's 6th Company ready to launch a night attack against Changkufeng from the northwest if necessary. Small forces deployed southeast at Hill 52 were to block the arrival of Soviet reinforcements around the southern shores of Khasan. Only after Changkufeng was secured and fire swept the high ground south of Shachaofeng would a reinforced battalion, Takenouchi's 1st from the 76th Regiment undertake a dawn assault to clear the Russians from that sector. An engineer platoon would assist both the night and dawn assault battalions with obstacle clearing. There would be no artillery support until dawn, when the available guns were to provide maximum coverage. Notably, even the movement of a single antitank gun warranted mention. Sato concluded the attack order by directing that each unit mask its intentions after sunset. Takenouchi was to act to check the enemy as soon as the sun went down. In connection with the dawn barrage against the enemy southwest of Shachaofeng, key personnel were to study the best way to exploit sudden fire described as gale and lightning. They were also to be ready to destroy enemy tanks. A green star shell would be fired to signal the success of the night attack. The code words were shojiki "honesty" and ydmo "bravery". At midnight, the regiment commander would be at the northwest foot of Chiangchunfeng. The order stressed typical night-attack precautions: secrecy and concealment, avoidance of confusion, antitank defense, and flare signaling of success. Sato added his own flair with his daily motto as code words and the reference to "whirlwind" fire. Impending action times were explicitly set when the order was issued at 15:30 on the 30th, more than ten hours before the 1st Battalion was to jump off. The key to success in a night assault lay in an absolute prohibition on firing by their side, and bold, courageous charging. Sato reminded his men that life is granted again after death. Nakano then assembled his company commanders east of Fangchuanting and issued his battalion order at 18:30. A few hours after Sato's briefing of the assault commanders, Suetaka arrived at the 75th Regiment command post. This visit late on 30 July is central to allegations that Sato, not Suetaka, conceived and executed the night attack on his own initiative. Divisional orders giving Sato his core mission had already been conveyed by telephone. After 16:00, Suetaka boarded a motorboat at Kucheng and went to the Manchurian side to verify front-line conditions. Soviet snipers south of Yangkuanping fired several shots, but his craft reached the Matsu'otsuho landing and proceeded to Chiangchunfeng to meet Sato. Sato described the situation: "frontline enemy forces had been reinforced steadily and had begun a vigorous offensive. The foe was provoking us, and the matter had grown very serious. I had already issued orders at 15:30 to take the initiative and deal the enemy a smashing blow." 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 a frost-bitten dawn by the Chaun and Tumen, Russia and Japan lock eyes over Changkufeng. Diplomats urge restraint, yet Tokyo's generals push a bold gamble: seize a hill with a surprise strike and bargain later. Japanese divisions, engineers, and artillery edge toward the border, while Soviet sentries brace for a confrontation that could widen the war. 

After their victory at the Battle of Midway, Allied forces in the Pacific took the initiative in the South Pacific. However, the ensuing Guadalcanal campaign would prove to be challenging both on land and in nearby waters.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!

By 1943, the war in the Pacific burned in its full fury. On November 20th, the Allies launched the first amphibious assault against heavily defended beaches in US history. The 2nd division of the US Marine Corps, used amphibious tractors and assault boats to reach the beaches of the Tarawa atoll, an enemy stronghold protected by 5,000 hardened Imperial Japanese marines. Ed Moore and Tommy Reed were decorated veterans of the 2nd Marine Division during the island campaigns in the Pacific War. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Last time we spoke about the Changkufeng Incident. In a frost-bitten dawn along the Chaun and Tumen rivers, a border notched with memory becomes the stage for a quiet duel of will. On one side, Japanese officers led by Inada Masazum study maps, mud, and the hill known as Changkufeng, weighing ground it offers and the risk of war. They glimpse a prize, high ground that could shield lines to Korea—yet they sense peril in every ridge, every scent of winter wind. Across the line, Soviet forces tighten their grip on the crest, their eyes fixed on the same hill, their tents and vehicles creeping closer to the border. The air hums with cautious diplomacy: Moscow's orders pulse through Seoul and Harbin, urging restraint, probing, deterring, but never inviting full-scale conflict. Yet every patrol, every reconnaissance, seems to tilt the balance toward escalation.   #177 The point of no return for the USSR and Japan 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. Days passed and the local emissaries had not been released by the Russians. Domei reported from Seoul that the authorities were growing worried; the "brazen" actions of Soviet front-line forces infuriated the Manchurians and Japanese. From Seoul, too, came ominous news that villagers were preparing to evacuate because they feared fighting would soon begin in the Changkufeng area. While diplomatic activity continued in Moscow without effect, the Tokyo press continued to report intense military activity throughout the Soviet Far East—the greatest massing of troops in months, with planes, armored cars, and motorized equipment choking the Trans-Siberian railway. The press was dominated by commentary about the danger of war. One enterprising Tokyo publisher ran advertisements under the heading: "The Manchukuo-Soviet Border Situation Is Urgent—Ours Is the Only Detailed Map of the Soviet Far East: Newspaper-size, in seven clear colors, offset printed, only 50 sen." Although the Manchukuoan foreign office issued a statement on 20 July about the dire consequences the Soviets were inviting, it is probable that the next Russian actions, of a conciliatory nature, were reached independently. Either Moscow had taken almost a week to make the decision, or the diplomatic conversations there had had an effect. Local Japanese authorities reported inactivity on the Changkufeng front from the morning of 23 July. On the next day, word was received that the USSR proposed to return the two emissaries as "trespassers." At midday on 26 July, the Russians released the blindfolded agents at a border site along the Novokievsk road. After completing the formalities, the Japanese asked the Russians for a reply concerning local settlement of the incident. According to Japanese sources, the "flustered" Colonel Grebennik answered: "My assignment today was merely to turn over the envoys. As for any request about the Changkufeng Incident, our guard commander must have asked for instructions from the central government. I think this is the type of matter which must be answered by the authorities at Moscow through diplomatic channels." Grebennik's postwar recollection does not differ appreciably from the Japanese version. Soviet sources mention a second effort by the Japanese military to deliver a message under more forceful circumstances. On 23 July a Soviet border unit drove off a four-man party. Russian cavalry, sent to investigate, discovered that the Japanese had pulled down a telegraph pole, severed lines 100–150 meters inside Soviet territory, absconded with wire, and left behind a white flag and a letter. Undated, unsigned, and written in Korean, the message struck Grebennik as being substantively the same as the communication delivered formally by the emissaries on 18 July. Japanese materials make no reference to a second, informal effort by local forces, but there is little reason to doubt that such an attempt, perhaps unauthorized, was made. Although Japanese efforts at low-level negotiations came to naught, two observations emerged from the local authorities and the press. First, on-the-spot negotiations had broken down; it had been difficult even to reclaim the emissaries, and the Russians in the Posyet region were using various pretexts to refer matters to diplomatic echelons. Second, the Russians had released the men. Some interpreted this as the first evidence of Soviet sincerity; possibly, the USSR would even return Matsushima's body as a step toward settlement. Other Japanese observers on the scene warned the public that it was imperative to stay on guard: "All depends on how diplomacy proceeds and how the front-line troops behave." Yet the excitement in the Japanese press began to abate. It is difficult to ascertain the nature of the decision-making process on the Russian side after the Japanese attempted local negotiations. The Soviets contend that nothing special had been undertaken before the Japanese provoked matters at the end of July. Grebennik, however, admits that after receiving the two Japanese communications, "we started to prepare against an attack on us in the Lake Khasan area." He and a group of officers went to Changkufeng Hill and sent as many border guards there as possible. Although he personally observed Japanese troops and instructed his officers to do the same, he denied categorically that the Russians constructed trenches and fortifications. Only the observation of Manchurian territory was intensified while instructions were awaited from higher headquarters. For its part, the Korea Army was carrying out Imperial general headquarters first instructions while pursuing a wait-and-see policy. On 16 July, Korea Army Headquarters wired an important operations order to Suetaka. With a view toward a possible attack against intruders in the Khasan area, the army planned to make preparations. The division commander was to alert stipulated units for emergency dispatch and send key personnel to the Kyonghun sector to undertake preparations for an attack. Lt. Col. Senda Sadasue, BGU commander of the 76th Infantry Regiment, was to reconnoiter, reinforce nearby districts, and be ready for emergencies. Particular care was enjoined not to irritate the Soviet side. Maj. Gen. Yokoyama Shinpei, the Hunchun garrison commander, was to maintain close contact with the BGU and take every precaution in guarding the frontiers. Like Senda, Yokoyama was warned against irritating the Russians. Korea Army Headquarters also dispatched staff to the front and had them begin preparations, envisaging an offensive. Upon receipt of the army order, Suetaka issued implementing instructions from his Nanam headquarters at 4:30 A.M. on the 17th. The following units were to prepare for immediate alert: the 38th Infantry Brigade Headquarters, 75th Infantry Regiment, 27th Cavalry Regiment, 5th Antiaircraft Regiment, and 19th Engineer Regiment. The same instructions applied to the next units, except that elements organic to the division were designated: the 76th Infantry Regiment, 25th Mountain Artillery Regiment, and 15th Heavy Field Artillery Regiment. Another order enjoined utmost care not to irritate the Russians; Japanese actions were to be masked. Next came a directive to the forces of Senda and K. Sato. The former comprised mainly the 76th Infantry BGU and a cavalry platoon. The latter was built around the 75th Infantry Regiment, the Kucheng garrison unit, another cavalry platoon, two mountain artillery and one heavy field artillery battalion, and the 19th Engineers. Suetaka's idea about a solution to the border troubles had become concrete and aggressive. From the night of July 17, concentration would be accomplished gradually. The exact timing of the attack would be determined by subsequent orders; in Senda's area, there was no such restriction regarding "counteraction brought on by enemy attack." Division signal and intendant officers would conduct reconnaissance related to communications, billeting, food, and supplies. Sato and his subordinates were to reconnoiter personally. Having ordered the division to begin concentration and to stand by, Korea Army Headquarters was prepared the next morning, July 17, to direct the movement. Nevertheless, there was concern in Seoul that Suetaka's advance elements might cross the Tumen River into Manchurian territory, which could result in a clash with Soviet troops. Such an outcome might run counter to the principle established by Imperial general headquarters. Consequently, it was decided that "movement east of the river would therefore have to be forbidden in the Korea Army's implementing order." Nakamura transmitted his operational instructions to Suetaka at 6:00 on July 17: "No great change in latest situation around Lake Khasan. Soviet forces are still occupying Changkufeng area. Diplomaticlevel negotiations on part of central authorities and Manchukuoan government do not appear to have progressed. Considering various circumstances and with view to preparations, this army will concentrate elements of 19th Division between Shikai, Kyonghun, Agochi." Restrictions stipulated that the division commander would transport the units by rail and motor vehicle and concentrate them in the waiting zone in secret. Movement was to begin on the night of July 17 and to be completed the next day. Further orders, however, must govern unit advance east of the Tumen as well as use of force. The remainder of the division was to stay ready to move out. Troops were to carry rations for about two weeks.   Late that day, Suetaka received an order by phone for his subordinates in line with Seoul's instructions. Senda would handle the concentration of elements assembling at Kyonghun, and Sato would do the same for the main units arriving at Agochi. A communications net was to be set up quickly. Caution was to be exercised not to undertake provocative actions against the opposite bank of the Tumen, even for reconnaissance. The division would dispatch two trains from Hoeryong and four from Nanam. At 11:58 pm on 18 July, the first train left Hoeryong for Agochi. Concentration of units was completed by dawn. By that time, the Japanese had dispatched to the border 3,236 men and 743 horses. Past midnight on 20 July, Division Chief of Staff Nakamura wired headquarters that the division was ready to take any action required, having completed the alert process by 11 pm. Japanese scouting of the Changkufeng sector began in earnest after mid-July. Although the affair had seemed amenable to settlement, Sato took steps for an emergency from around the 14th. His thoughts centered on readiness for an attack against Changkufeng, which simultaneously required reconnaissance for the assault and preparation to pull the regiment back quickly to Hoeryong if a withdrawal was ordered. After arriving at Haigan on 18 July, Sato set out with several engineers. At Kucheng, the officers donned white Korean clothing, presumably the disguise directed by the division—and boarded native oxcarts for a leisurely journey southward along the Korean bank of the Tumen across from Changkufeng. The seemingly innocent "farmers" studied the river for crossing sites and Changkufeng Hill for the extent of enemy activity. On the hill's western slope, in Manchurian territory, three rows of Russian entanglements could be observed 300 feet below the crest. Only a handful of soldiers were visible, probably a platoon, certainly not more than a company. Infantry Captain Yamada Teizo conducted secret reconnaissance of the entire Changkufeng-Hill 52 sector for 314 hours in the afternoon of 18 July. Even after intense scanning through powerful binoculars, he could detect no more than 19 lookouts and six horsemen; camouflage work had been completed that day, and there were ten separate covered trench or base points. Barbed wire, under camouflage, extended about four meters in depth, yet even Yamada's trained eye could not determine whether there was one line of stakes or two. He jotted down what he could see and compared his information with that learned from local police. Artillery Colonel R. Tanaka shared the view that the Soviets had intruded. When he went reconnoitering along the Korean bank, he observed Russian soldiers entrenched around the hilltop, easily visible through binoculars at a range of two kilometers. Trenches had been dug 20 to 30 meters below the crest on the western slope. Eventually, there were three rows of barbed wire, the first just below the trenches and the lowest 100 meters under the summit. Tanaka estimated Soviet strength at two companies (about 200 men). Suetaka's intelligence officer, Sasai, recalls seeing barbed wire after Japanese units deployed to the front on 18–19 July; he had surmised then that the entanglements were being prepared out of fear of a Japanese assault.   To obtain first-hand information, the Gaimusho ordered a section chief, Miura Kazu'ichi, to the spot. Between 23 July and the cease-fire in August, Miura collected data at Kyonghun and transmitted reports from the consulate at Hunchun. On 28 July he visited Sozan on the Korean bank. He observed Soviet soldiers on the western slopes of Changkufeng, digging trenches and driving stakes. These actions were clearly on Manchukuoan territory even according to Soviet maps. Miura insisted that he saw no friendly troops on territory claimed by the Russians and observed no provocative actions by the Japanese. These statements are supported by a map drawn for him in early August by Division Staff Officer Saito Toshio, a sketch Miura retained as late as 1947. Miura's testimony is tempered by his assertion that he saw a red flag flying near the top of Changkufeng Hill. This contention conflicts with all evidence, as Russian lawyers at the International Military Tribunal for the Far East argued, it is improbable that a Soviet frontier post, highly interested in camouflage, would have hoisted a pennon so large that it could be seen from Sozan. Russian sources are unanimous in stating that no flag was put up until 6 August and that no trenches or entanglements were established by Soviet border guards in July, at least prior to the 29th. The two Army General staff consultants, Arisue and Kotani, arrived in Seoul on 16 July, the day Korea Army Headquarters was ordering an alert for the 19th Division "with a view toward a possible attack against enemy intruders." Inada dispatched them mainly to inspect the frontline situation; but he had not fully decided on reconnaissance in force. At Shikai, Arisue and Kotani donned Korean garb and traveled by oxcart on the Korean side of the Tumen, reconnoitering opposite the Shachaofeng sector. Kotani was convinced that hostile possession of Changkufeng posed a serious threat to the Korean railway. He agreed with the division's estimate that, if the Japanese did decide to seize Changkufeng, it ought not to be too difficult. Arisue, as senior observer, dispatched messages from Kyonghun to Tokyo detailing their analysis and recommendations. Meanwhile, in Tokyo, on 17 July the central military authorities received a cable from the Japanese envoy in Moscow, Colonel Doi Akio, reporting that prospects for a diplomatic settlement were nil. The USSR was taking a hard line because Japan was deeply involved in China, though there were domestic considerations as well. The Russians, however, showed no intention of using the border incident to provoke war. It would be best for Japan to seize Changkufeng quickly and then press forward with parleys. Meanwhile, Japan should conduct an intensive domestic and external propaganda campaign. There was mounting pressure in the high command that negotiations, conducted "unaided," would miss an opportunity. Based on reports from Arisue and Kotani, that army seemed to be contemplating an unimaginative, ponderous plan: an infantry battalion would cross the Tumen west of Changkufeng and attack frontally, while two more battalions would cross south of Kyonghun to drive along the river and assault Changkufeng from the north. Inada sent a telegram on 17 July to Arisue for "reference." Prospects had diminished that Soviet troops would withdraw as a result of negotiation. As for the attack ideas Arisue mentioned, Inada believed it necessary to prepare to retake Changkufeng with a night attack using small forces. To avoid widening the crisis, the best plan was a limited, surprise attack using ground units. The notion of a surprise attack drew on the Kwantung Army's extensive combat experience in Manchuria since 1931.  The next morning, after the forward concentration of troops was completed, Suetaka went to the front. From Kucheng, he observed the Changkufeng district and decided on concrete plans for use of force. Meanwhile, Nakamura was curbing any hawkish courses at the front. As high-command sources privately conceded later, the younger officers in Tokyo sometimes seemed to think the commander was doing too good a job; there was covert sentiment that it might be preferable if someone in the chain of command acted independently before the opportunity slipped away. This is significant in light of the usual complaints by responsible central authorities about gekokujo—insubordination—by local commands. An important report influencing the high command's view arrived from Kwantung Army Intelligence on 19 July: according to agents in Khabarovsk, the USSR would not let the Changkufeng incident develop into war; Russians also believed there would be no large-scale Soviet intrusion into their territory. By 19 July, the Tokyo operations staff was considering the best method to restore control of the lost hill by force, since Seoul appeared to maintain its laissez-faire stance. On 18 July, Arisue and Kotani were instructed by Imperial General headquarters to assist the Korea Army and the 19th Division regarding the Changkufeng Incident. What the Army general staff operations officers sought was an Imperial General headquarters order, requiring Imperial sanction, that would instruct the Korea Army to evict the Russian troops from Changkufeng the way the Kwantung Army would, using units already under Nakamura's command. The sense was that the affair could be handled locally, but if the USSR sought to escalate the incident, it might be prudent for that to occur before the Hankow operation began. The IGHQ and War Ministry coordinated the drafting of an IGHQ order on 19–20 July: "We deem it advisable to eradicate Soviet challenges . . . by promptly delivering blow on this occasion against unit which crossed border at Changkufeng. That unit is in disadvantageous spot strategically and tactically; thus, probability is scant that dispute would enlarge, and we are investigating countermeasures in any case. Careless expansion of situation is definitely not desired. We would like you people also to conduct studies concerning mode of assault employing smallest strength possible for surprise attack against limited objective. Kindly learn general atmosphere here [Tokyo] from [Operations] Major Arao Okikatsu." The 20th of July proved to be a hectic day in Korea, and even more so in Tokyo. The division had informed the Korea Army that it was finally "ready to go," a message received in Seoul in the early hours. Then Arisue received a wire from Inada presenting limited-attack plans and noting that Arao was on the way. By that day, Japanese intelligence judged there were 400 Soviet troops and two or three mountain guns south of Paksikori. Russian positions at Changkufeng had been reinforced, but no aggressive intentions could be detected. Soviet ground elements, as well as materiel, appeared to be moving from Vladivostok and Slavyanka toward Posyet. Suetaka headed back to the front. Sato told him that it was absolutely necessary to occupy Chiangchunfeng Hill across the Tumen in Manchurian territory. Upon reaching the Wuchiatzu sector and inspecting the situation, Suetaka agreed to send a small unit to Chiangchunfeng on his own authority.  Colonel Sato Kotoku had ordered one company to move across the Tumen toward Chiangchunfeng on 21 July, a maneuver that did not escape the Russians' notice. On 24 July, the same day another Japanese unit occupied Shangchiaoshan Hill, Marshal Blyukher ordered the 40th Rifle Division, stationed in the Posyet area to be placed on combat readiness, with a force of regulars assigned to back the Soviet border guards; two reinforced rifle battalions were detached as a reserve. According to Japanese records, Russian border patrols began appearing around Huichungyuan, Yangkuanping, and Shachaofeng from 26 July, but no serious incidents were reported at that stage. At about 9:30 am on 29 July, Captain Kanda, the 2nd Company commander of Lieutenant Colonel Senda's 76th Border Garrison Unit, was observing the Shachaofeng area from his Kucheng cantonments. Through his glasses, Kanda observed four or five Soviet soldiers engaged in construction on high ground on the west side of Shachaofeng. Kanda notified Senda, who was at BGU Headquarters inspecting the forward areas. Senda transmitted the information to Suetaka. Deciding to cross the Tumen for a closer look, Senda set off with Kanda. A little after 11 am, they reached Chiangchunfeng Hill, where the men from Captain Noguchi's company were already located. Senda verified, to his own satisfaction, that as many as 10 enemy infantrymen had "violated the border" to a depth of 350 meters, "even by the Soviets' contention", and were starting construction 1,000 meters south of Shachaofeng. Senda decided to oust the Russian force "promptly and resolutely," in light of the basic mission assigned his unit. He telephoned Suetaka, who was in Kyonghun, and supplied the intelligence and the recommendation. Subordinates recalled Suetaka's initial reaction when the BGU reported a Soviet intrusion about a mile and a half north of Changkufeng. "The arrogant Russians were making fools of the Japanese, or were trying to. At stake was not a trifling hill and a few invaders, but the honor of the Imperial Army. In the face of this insult, the general became furious. He insisted upon smashing the enemy right away."  Kanda phoned 2nd Lieutenant Sakuma, who was still at Kucheng, and told him to bring his 25-man platoon across the river by 2 pm Sakuma crossed by boat and arrived at 1:30. Kanda set out from Chiangchunfeng at 2:20, took over Sakuma's unit, bore east, and approached within 700 meters of the enemy. He ordered the men not to fire unless fired upon, and to withdraw quickly after routing the Russians. It is said that the Japanese troops were fired upon as they advanced in deployed formation but did not respond at first. In a valley, casualties were incurred and the Japanese finally returned fire. Sakuma's 1st Squad leader took a light machine gun and pinned down the Russians facing him. Sakuma himself pressed forward with his other two squads, taking advantage of the slope to envelop the enemy from the right. At the same time, he sent a patrol to the high ground on the left to cover the platoon's flank. Thanks to the 1st Squad's frontal assault, the Russians had no chance to worry about their wings, and Sakuma moved forward to a point only 30 meters from the foe's rear. Kanda was now 50 meters from the Russians. When the enemy light machine gun let up, he ordered a charge and, in the lead, personally cut down one of the foe. Sakuma also rushed the Soviets, but when about to bring down his saber he was stabbed in the face while another Russian struck him in the shoulder. Grappling with this assailant, Sakuma felled him. Other Japanese attackers sabered two more Russians and shot the rest. By 3:10 pm the eight enemy "trespassers" had been annihilated. The covering patrol reported that five Soviet horsemen, with a light machine gun, were galloping up from Khasan. Sakuma had his platoon fire grenade dischargers, which smashed the enemy. Seventy more Russian soldiers now came, attacking from northwest of the lake and supported by fire from the east side. Using light machine guns and grenade dischargers, Sakuma checked them. Meanwhile, Miyashita's platoon, part of Noguchi's company, had departed from Chiangchunfeng at 2:20 pm and swung right until it reached the crestline between Changkufeng and Kanda's company. One squad faced 200 Russians on Changkufeng; the other faced the enemy south of Shachaofeng. Soviet forces opened intense machine-gun fire from Changkufeng and from the high ground east of the lake. After 20 minutes, Kanda's unit charged, two or three Russians fled, and Miyashita's platoon shot one down. Senda, who had gone with Miyashita, directed the platoon's movements and proceeded north, under fire, to Kanda's unit. Once the Russians had been cleared out, Senda forbade pursuit across the boundary and gradually withdrew his forces to the heights line 800 meters southwest. It was 4:30 then. By 5 pm Soviet reinforcements, apparently brought up from the Changkufeng and Paksikori sectors, advanced anew. With 80 men in the front lines, the enemy pushed across the border to a depth of at least 500 meters, according to the Japanese, and began to establish positions. Several tanks and many troops could be observed in the rear. Senda had Noguchi's company hold Chiangchunfeng. Kanda's unit, reinforced by 33 men from Kucheng, was to occupy the heights southwest of Shachaofeng, while Imagawa's company of the 76th Regiment was to occupy other high ground to the west. Senda then reported the situation to Suetaka in Kyonghun and asked for reinforcements. In Seoul, Army headquarters understood the developments reported by Suetaka as a response to the hostile border violation, and about 20 men of the Kucheng BGU under Lt. Sakuma drove the enemy out between 2:30 and 3 pm. Afterward, Sakuma pulled back to high ground two kilometers south of Yangkuanping to avoid trouble and was now observing the foe. Although Seoul had heard nothing about Japanese losses, Corp. Akaishizawa Kunihiko personally observed that Kanda had been wounded in the face by a grenade and bandaged, that Sakuma had been bayoneted twice and also bandaged, and that the dead lay on the grass, covered with raincoats. According to Suetaka "the enemy who had crossed the border south of Shachaofeng suffered losses and pulled back once as a result of our attack at about 2:30 pm". By about 4:30, Suetaka continued, the Russians had built up their strength and attacked the platoon on the heights southwest of Shachaofeng. Behind the Russian counterattack, there were now several tanks. Earlier, Suetaka noted ominously that several rounds of artillery had been fired from the Changkufeng area; "therefore, we reinforced our units too, between 5 and 6 pm., and both sides are confronting each other." Details as to the fate of Sakuma's platoon are not given, but it is now admitted that casualties were incurred on both sides. The Korea Army Headquarters consequently reported to Tokyo in the evening that, according to information from the division, 20 Japanese had driven out the Russians near Shachaofeng; 25 men from Senda's unit were occupying the heights 600 meters west of Changkufeng; and another 16 men were deployed in ambush at Yangkuanping. Such an enumeration would have tended to suggest that only a few dozen Japanese were across the Tumen on the 29th. But a review of the numbers of combat troops committed and the reinforcements sent by Senda reveals that Japanese strength across the river was in the hundreds by nightfall. In Moscow, Tass reported that on 29 July detachments of Japanese-Manchukuoan intruders had attempted to seize high ground apparently located 0.5 miles north of a Russian position. The assailants had been "completely repelled from Soviet territory, as a result of measures taken by Russian frontier guards," and instructions had been sent to the embassy in Tokyo to protest strongly. Walter Duranty, the veteran American correspondent in Moscow, heard that the Japanese press had published reports, likely intended for internal consumption, that hours of furious fighting had occurred at the points in question. Since the dispatches were unsubstantiated and "failed to gain credence anywhere outside Japan," Duranty claimed this may have forced the Japanese to translate into action their boast of "applying force" unless their demands were satisfied. "Now, it appears, they have applied force, unsuccessfully." The Soviet communiqué on the Shachaofeng affair, despite its firm tone, appeared unostentatiously in the following day's Pravda and Izvestiya under the headline, "Japanese Militarists Continue Their Provocation." The Japanese Embassy in Moscow heard nothing about the Shachaofeng affray until the morning of the 30th, when a wire was received from the Gaimusho that ten Russian soldiers had occupied a position northwest of Changkufeng and had begun trench work until ejected by frontier guards. Since the Russian communiqué spoke of afternoon fighting, American correspondents concluded that Soviet troops must have counterattacked and driven off the Japanese. No additional information was available to the public in Moscow on the 30th, perhaps because it was a holiday. Nevertheless, in the afternoon, Stalin's colleague Kaganovich addressed an immense crowd in Moscow on "Railroad Day" and at the conclusion of a long, vigorous speech said:  "The Soviet Union is prepared to meet all enemies, east or west." It certainly was not a fighting speech and there is no reason to suppose the Soviet will abandon its firm peace policy unless Japan deliberately forced the issue. 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. Diplomacy flickered as Moscow pressed restraint and Tokyo whispered calculated bravado. As July wore on, both sides massed troops, built trenches, and sent scouts across the river. A tense, hidden war unfolded, skirmishes, patrols, and small advances, until a fleeting moment when force collided with restraint, and the hill's future hung in the frost.