Podcasts about ribbentrop

Charles Spicer recounts how, in December 1934, Ernest Tennant, a businessman scarred by the horrors of the Great War, dined with Adolf Hitler and Joachim von Ribbentrop at the Reich Chancellery. At the time, Ribbentrop was a passionate Anglophile, and Tennant's goal was to foster cooperation to prevent another continental conflict. Disappointed by the British government's initial disdain for the "vulgar" Nazi regime, Tennant partnered with the brilliant scholar Philip Conwell-Evans and the aristocratic Lord Lothian to form the Anglo-German Fellowship. This organization aimed to build cultural and political bridges between London and Berlin during a period of deep historical trauma. (1)1914

Charles Spicer describes the 1936 Berlin Olympics as a deceptive high point for Anglo-German relations. While Hitlersought a pact granting him control over Europe in exchange for British imperial security, Vansittart remained skeptical of Ribbentrop's intellectual weight. Because Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin refused to meet Hitler, Conwell-Evansrecruited former Prime Minister David Lloyd George for a substitute mission. Lloyd George, known as the "Welsh Wizard," believed that dialogue was essential to "civilize" the dictator and prevent another catastrophic war, viewing himself as a free agent capable of building necessary rapport. (4)1945

Charles Spicer relates how Ribbentrop arrived at Victoria Station as the new German ambassador with a mission to neutralize Britain through a show of friendship. However, his tenure was a disaster; he was socially clumsy, notoriously giving a Hitler salute to the King. His wife, Annelies, was equally thin-skinned and offended by the British habit of teasing. Simultaneously, Nevile Henderson became the British ambassador to Berlin. Henderson, an arch-appeaser who admired the regime's efficiency, was paranoid about upsetting Hitler, further complicating the efforts of amateur spies to communicate the true nature of the Nazi threat to Whitehall. (6)1945

Charles Spicer describes how, during the 1937 coronation of George VI, Ribbentrop hosted a chaotic, overcrowded party at the German embassy. Despite the champagne-fueled festivities, the event was a social failure that highlighted the growing friction between the two cultures. Meanwhile, Vansittart realized the traditional intelligence services had poor access to the Nazi leadership. He established a parallel network—"Van's Detective Agency"—utilizing Christie and Conwell-Evans as private intelligence sources. Conwell-Evans, previously optimistic, underwent a total volte-face in 1937, bravely shifting his focus to gathering intelligence through his high-level German networks to warn the Britishgovernment. (7)1940

Charles Spicer describes how, during the 1937 coronation of George VI, Ribbentrop hosted a chaotic, overcrowded party at the German embassy. Despite the champagne-fueled festivities, the event was a social failure that highlighted the growing friction between the two cultures. Meanwhile, Vansittart realized the traditional intelligence services had poor access to the Nazi leadership. He established a parallel network—"Van's Detective Agency"—utilizing Christie and Conwell-Evans as private intelligence sources. Conwell-Evans, previously optimistic, underwent a total volte-face in 1937, bravely shifting his focus to gathering intelligence through his high-level German networks to warn the Britishgovernment. (7)1945

Charles Spicer describes how, as 1939 began, the diplomatic situation worsened due to the catastrophic appointments of Henderson and Ribbentrop. Henderson, the "arch-appeaser," fed Chamberlain's natural tendencies and suppressed reports that might upset Hitler. Conversely, Ribbentrop had become irrational and vitriolic toward the British, feeling socially snubbed. Despite accurate intelligence from Christie and Conwell-Evans flowing to Halifax, the Foreign Secretary vacillated between their warnings and Henderson's appeasement. Although the Fellowship's activities were suspended after the invasion of Prague, it remained a vital conduit for information that the official British embassy in Berlin failed to provide. (11)1940

Charles Spicer relates how, in the summer of 1939, Ernest Tennant undertook an incognito mission to meet Ribbentrop, hoping to find a path to peace. He returned with warnings that Hitler was focused on Poland and prepared for a ten-year war. While London believed the information, Chamberlain's antipathy toward Stalin led to a slow, failed attempt at an alliance with Moscow, allowing Ribbentrop to secure a pact with the Soviets first. Spicer echoes Churchill's sentiment that this was an "unnecessary war," highlighting multiple missed opportunities to support the German resistance and remove the dictator before the global catastrophe began. (12)1935

Charles Spicer recounts how, at the Nuremberg trials, Ribbentrop tried to use his pre-war Fellowship efforts as a defense, claiming he had always worked for peace. Göring remained unrepentant, while Hess insisted on wearing his flying boots in the witness box. Spicer notes that after the war, Vansittart and the Foreign Office obscured their connections to the German resistance to avoid admitting that more energetic diplomacy might have prevented the conflict. The Oster Conspiracy of 1938 is highlighted as a more effective, though overlooked, opportunity than the famous 1944 bomb plot, as Hitler's grip on power was not yet absolute during the earlier crisis. (15)19353

When Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union signed a non-agression pact in late August 1939, it sent shockwaves throughout the entire world, but seemed especially ominous for the Jews of Europe. Now that these sworn enemies were friends, war seemed inevitable, and what lay in store for the future of Polish Jewry? When war did indeed break out several days later, western Poland ultimately fell under Nazi occupation, while the Soviets occupied Poland's east. Polish Jewry was in a hopeless situation, where the Soviet Union was often viewed as the lesser of two evils. Soviet persecution led to the deportation of many to Siberia, which in a cruel irony proved to be a salvation as they were spared the Nazi Final Solution. The Molotov Von Ribbentrop pact had significant ramifications not only on world history and World War II, but also on Jewish history and the Holocaust.  Subscribe to Jewish History Soundbites Podcast on: PodBean: https://jsoundbites.podbean.com/ or your favorite podcast platform Follow us on LinkedIn, Twitter or Instagram at @Jsoundbites For sponsorship opportunities about your favorite topics of Jewish history or feedback contact Yehuda at: yehuda@yehudageberer.com

When Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union signed a non-agression pact in late August 1939, it sent shockwaves throughout the entire world, but seemed especially ominous for the Jews of Europe. Now that these sworn enemies were friends, war seemed inevitable, and what lay in store for the future of Polish Jewry? When war did indeed break out several days later, western Poland ultimately fell under Nazi occupation, while the Soviets occupied Poland's east. Polish Jewry was in a hopeless situation, where the Soviet Union was often viewed as the lesser of two evils. Soviet persecution led to the deportation of many to Siberia, which in a cruel irony proved to be a salvation as they were spared the Nazi Final Solution. The Molotov Von Ribbentrop pact had significant ramifications not only on world history and World War II, but also on Jewish history and the Holocaust.  Subscribe to Jewish History Soundbites Podcast on: PodBean: https://jsoundbites.podbean.com/ or your favorite podcast platform Follow us on LinkedIn, Twitter or Instagram at @Jsoundbites For sponsorship opportunities about your favorite topics of Jewish history or feedback contact Yehuda at: yehuda@yehudageberer.com

Giorgio Ferrari"L'alcova delle spie"Salon Kitty: Sesso e spionaggio nel Terzo ReichNeri Pozza Editorewww.neripozza.itAlla vigilia della Seconda guerra mondiale all'interno di una casa d'appuntamenti in un'elegante palazzina di Charlottenburg si annidava una centrale spionistica. A pochi mesi dall'invasione della Polonia, infatti, le SS avevano allestito nel cuore di Berlino una struttura per intercettare le conversazioni intime dei clienti più altolocati: diplomatici, militari, politici, giornalisti, membri del partito. Da Ciano al ministro degli Esteri spagnolo, da Göring a Goebbels, da Ribbentrop a Speer, dai corrispondenti di testate straniere ai vertici della Wehrmacht, decine di personaggi di spicco passarono per le alcove di quell'accogliente pensione gestita da Kitty Schmidt, una donna ricattata e manipolata dagli uomini del numero due delle SS, Reinhard Heydrich, che accatastarono migliaia e migliaia di registrazioni. Così la Germania nazista spiava sé stessa fra le coltri di una maison rimasta attiva fino all'ultimo, anche sotto le bombe. Il Terzo Reich riduceva la “nobile arte” dello spionaggio a un voyerismo di bassa lega che serviva ai gerarchi in competizione fra loro per spiarsi a vicenda. Mentre gli inglesi avevano da tempo violato Enigma, la macchina cifratrice utilizzata per le comunicazioni militari, la decadente classe dirigente hitleriana preferiva mettersi in coda nella sala degli specchi della casa di appuntamenti di Charlottenburg, in attesa di un'ora di svago fra le braccia di ragazze scelte accuratamente per riferire ogni accenno di critica al regime. I clienti conoscevano quell'indirizzo come Pensione Schmidt. Ma tutti, in omaggio al fascino discreto della sua tenutaria e dei tanti segreti che immaginavano tenesse per sé, finirono per chiamarlo Salon Kitty.Questa è la storia di ciò che accadeva dentro il Salon Kitty, un'elegante casa di appuntamenti trasformata dalle SS in un centro di spionaggio, frequentata fino all'ultimo dalle alte cariche del Reich, dalla diplomazia internazionale, dai vertici della Wehrmacht. Giocò un ruolo fondamentale negli equilibri interni ed esterni del nazismo. E ne rappresentò tutta la decadenza anticipandone la sconfitta.Giorgio Ferrari, inviato speciale e editorialista di Avvenire, è stato corrispondente diplomatico e di guerra per varie testate coprendo per un trentennio le principali vicende internazionali. Fra le sue ultime pubblicazioni, L'arca russa. Il mito della Grande Asia, dall'impero degli zar alle guerre di Vladimir Putin (2023) e La morte dell'Uomo Macchina. La guerra infinita fra uomini e automi (2025) presso La Vita Felice. Per Neri Pozza sono apparsi: Uccidete il Re Buono, da Bava Beccaris a Gaetano Bresci (2021), Il naufragio di Šostakovič, Arte e cultura sovietica negli anni del terrore staliniano (2022) e Le spie di Stalin. I ragazzi di Cambridge che cambiarono la storia (2024)Diventa un supporter di questo podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/il-posto-delle-parole--1487855/support.IL POSTO DELLE PAROLEascoltare fa pensarehttps://ilpostodelleparole.it/

En los primeros meses de 1940, Italia enfrentó un asedio económico debido al bloqueo aliado sobre importaciones vitales, especialmente el carbón alemán, pero Mussolini rechazó las propuestas británicas de intercambiar carbón por armamento para mantener su compromiso con Hitler y su "honor" político. Tras la promesa de Ribbentrop de suministrar carbón por ferrocarril, el dictador consolidó su decisión de intervenir al lado de Alemania, en una guerra paralela, mediante la cual buscaba autonomía y hegemonía en el Mediterráneo. Te lo cuenta Esaú R. con la ayuda de Dani C. ◼️ Edición Limitada Versus Vol.1 👉 https://go.ivoox.com/sq/3153351 ◼️ Casus Belli Podcast pertenece a 🏭 Factoría Casus Belli. Casus Belli Podcast forma parte de 📀 Ivoox Originals. 📚 Zeppelin Books (Digital) y 📚 DCA Editor (Físico) http://zeppelinbooks.com son sellos editoriales de la 🏭 Factoría Casus Belli. Estamos en: 🆕 WhatsApp https://bit.ly/CasusBelliWhatsApp 👉 X/Twitter https://twitter.com/CasusBelliPod 👉 Facebook https://www.facebook.com/CasusBelliPodcast 👉 Instagram estamos https://www.instagram.com/casusbellipodcast 👉 Telegram Canal https://t.me/casusbellipodcast 👉 Telegram Grupo de Chat https://t.me/casusbellipod 📺 YouTube https://bit.ly/casusbelliyoutube 👉 TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@casusbelli10 👉 https://casusbelli.top 👨💻Nuestro chat del canal es https://t.me/casusbellipod 🎵 La música que aparece en este episodio está cubiertas por licencias privadas de Epidemic Sound, Jamendo, SUNO o SGAE SGAERRDDD/4/1074/1012, o están compuestos por Dani CarAn bajo Licencia Creative Commons Atribución – No Comercial 4.0 Internacional (CC BY-NC 4.0) https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/deed.es ⚛️ El logotipo de Casus Belli Podcasdt y el resto de la Factoría Casus Belli están diseñados por Publicidad Fabián publicidadfabian@yahoo.es 🎭Las opiniones expresadas en este programa de pódcast, son de exclusiva responsabilidad de quienes las trasmiten. Que cada palo aguante su vela. 📧¿Quieres contarnos algo? También puedes escribirnos a casus.belli.pod@gmail.com ¿Quieres anunciarte en este podcast, patrocinar un episodio o una serie? Hazlo a través de 👉 https://www.advoices.com/casus-belli-podcast-historia Si te ha gustado, y crees que nos lo merecemos, nos sirve mucho que nos des un like, ya que nos da mucha visibilidad. Muchas gracias por escucharnos, y hasta la próxima. ¿Quieres anunciarte en este podcast? Hazlo con advoices.com/podcast/ivoox/391278 Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Jim McTague examines the AI boom, noting the high valuation of DeepSeek and its use of black-market chips. He discusses a lawsuit against Character AI for unlicensed medical advice and the economic impact of data centers, which provide local tax revenue but consume significant real estate. (14/16)1940 RIBBENTROP

Le metteur en scène Jean Bellorini met en scène le roman du lauréat du Prix Goncourt 2018 « L'ordre du jour » d'Éric Vuillard.  Dans les moindres détails, Éric Vuillard raconte dans son récit L'ordre du jour le rendez-vous entre Hitler et les industriels allemands, le 20 février 1933, mais aussi le diner entre Chamberlain alors Premier ministre britannique et Ribbentrop, ambassadeur d'Allemagne en Angleterre ou encore les préparatifs à l'invasion de l'Autriche par l'Allemagne en mars 1938… Ce roman couronné par le Prix Goncourt en 2017 est aujourd'hui adapté par Jean Bellorini à la Comédie française. Du roman à la scène Ce n'est pas la première fois que Jean Bellorini adapte un roman au théâtre, puisqu'il avait déjà mis en scène Les frères Karamazov de Dostoïevski, À la recherche du temps perdu de Proust ou encore les Misérables de Hugo. « C'est ce qu'il y a de plus théâtral selon moi, le théâtre récit. C'est très important de se retrouver autour d'une oeuvre ».  Rendre hommage au théâtre  Pour incarner les vingt-quatre pardessus noirs inquiétants, ces industriels allemands qui pénètrent dans la résidence officielle du président, Jean Bellorini fait appel à quatre comédiens de la Comédie-Française, affublés de masques rappelant ceux des carnavals du nord de la France. À leurs pieds, vingt-quatre paires de chaussures noires, savamment disposées en carré, complètent ce tableau.  Derrière les masques, les figures de pouvoir paraissent d'autant plus fortes… et d'autant plus inquiétantes. Quant au dîner entre Chamberlain et Ribbentrop, il se métamorphose en cabaret clownesque. Ce dispositif confère aux personnages une dimension grotesque et distanciée, en forme de clin d'œil à Brecht. Il s'agit de « rendre plus intelligent par l'émotion et le rire ». Invité : Jean Bellorini. Né le 18 juin 1981 à Paris, Jean Bellorini est un metteur en scène de théâtre français. Ses mises en scène ont été récompensées par plusieurs prix, notamment le Molière du metteur en scène d'un spectacle du théâtre public en 2014. Il est nommé directeur du Théâtre Gérard-Philipe de Saint-Denis en novembre 2013. Il dirige ensuite le Théâtre national populaire (TNP) de Villeurbanne à partir de 2020. Il dirigera le Théâtre de Carouge en Suisse dès janvier 2027.   Il a mis en scène de nombreux auteurs, classiques comme contemporains : Tchekhov, Victor Hugo, Shakespeare, Novarina.  Programmation musicale : L'artiste le Rat Luciano avec le titre Au nom de...

Le metteur en scène Jean Bellorini met en scène le roman du lauréat du Prix Goncourt 2018 « L'ordre du jour » d'Éric Vuillard.  Dans les moindres détails, Éric Vuillard raconte dans son récit L'ordre du jour le rendez-vous entre Hitler et les industriels allemands, le 20 février 1933, mais aussi le diner entre Chamberlain alors Premier ministre britannique et Ribbentrop, ambassadeur d'Allemagne en Angleterre ou encore les préparatifs à l'invasion de l'Autriche par l'Allemagne en mars 1938… Ce roman couronné par le Prix Goncourt en 2017 est aujourd'hui adapté par Jean Bellorini à la Comédie française. Du roman à la scène Ce n'est pas la première fois que Jean Bellorini adapte un roman au théâtre, puisqu'il avait déjà mis en scène Les frères Karamazov de Dostoïevski, À la recherche du temps perdu de Proust ou encore les Misérables de Hugo. « C'est ce qu'il y a de plus théâtral selon moi, le théâtre récit. C'est très important de se retrouver autour d'une oeuvre ».  Rendre hommage au théâtre  Pour incarner les vingt-quatre pardessus noirs inquiétants, ces industriels allemands qui pénètrent dans la résidence officielle du président, Jean Bellorini fait appel à quatre comédiens de la Comédie-Française, affublés de masques rappelant ceux des carnavals du nord de la France. À leurs pieds, vingt-quatre paires de chaussures noires, savamment disposées en carré, complètent ce tableau.  Derrière les masques, les figures de pouvoir paraissent d'autant plus fortes… et d'autant plus inquiétantes. Quant au dîner entre Chamberlain et Ribbentrop, il se métamorphose en cabaret clownesque. Ce dispositif confère aux personnages une dimension grotesque et distanciée, en forme de clin d'œil à Brecht. Il s'agit de « rendre plus intelligent par l'émotion et le rire ». Invité : Jean Bellorini. Né le 18 juin 1981 à Paris, Jean Bellorini est un metteur en scène de théâtre français. Ses mises en scène ont été récompensées par plusieurs prix, notamment le Molière du metteur en scène d'un spectacle du théâtre public en 2014. Il est nommé directeur du Théâtre Gérard-Philipe de Saint-Denis en novembre 2013. Il dirige ensuite le Théâtre national populaire (TNP) de Villeurbanne à partir de 2020. Il dirigera le Théâtre de Carouge en Suisse dès janvier 2027.   Il a mis en scène de nombreux auteurs, classiques comme contemporains : Tchekhov, Victor Hugo, Shakespeare, Novarina.  Programmation musicale : L'artiste le Rat Luciano avec le titre Au nom de...

There are roughly two camps. One argues that there is an overarching grand plan behind America's actions in Venezuela, Iran, Greenland, and against Russia's shadow fleet – a coherent strategy to choke off China's industries and make Europe energy-dependent on the United States. The other, more plausible camp sees imperial decline and the chaos that decline inevitably brings.I explore both.John Mearsheimer argues that America has suffered a catastrophic defeat. The evidence is stark: Iran has published a ten-point plan that includes the removal of American bases from the Gulf, continued uranium enrichment, and reparations – and Trump accepted it as the basis for negotiations. America is running out of Tomahawk missiles, having burned through eight to ten years of stockpiles in weeks. Its capital ships have been withdrawn out of Iranian missile range. The world's key strategic waterway is no longer under US control.But journalist Richard Medhurst makes a compelling case that this is all about China – a brutal attempt to cut off Chinese industry from Persian Gulf oil and force Beijing to negotiate from weakness.The problem is Trump. According to the New York Times, he went into this war on a whim – a "yeah, sounds good" after Netanyahu's sales pitch – overruling his own generals. The White House has been systematically de‑professionalised. Institutional memory is gone. Decision‑making is chaos.I draw a careful parallel with Hitler's regime: the removal of experts, the promotion of sycophants like Ribbentrop, the deliberate creation of administrative chaos to concentrate power. Trump surrounds himself with the same kind of people – Jared Kushner, Steve Witkoff – who tell him what he wants to hear.From Tehran, this looks like a once‑in‑a‑generation opportunity: remove the Americans from the Gulf forever, gain permanent leverage over the world, and finally deal with the threat of Israel. And Israel's standing in America has plummeted – not just among Democrats, but among the MAGA base as well.What we are witnessing is the end of a world order that began in 1991. Trump is not the cause of American decline – he is an accelerant. But the collapse is coming, and the consequences will be catastrophic.Topics covered:- Mearsheimer's thesis of strategic defeat- America's munitions crisis- Medhurst's blockade‑of‑China argument- Trump's chaotic, whim‑driven decision‑making- The de‑professionalisation of the White House- Hitler, Ribbentrop, and the parallel of sycophantic advice- Iran's once‑in‑a‑lifetime opportunity- Israel's collapsing popularity in the US- The end of the post‑Cold War order---*If you enjoy the podcast, please consider supporting us. We're migrating from Patreon to Substack – more details soon.*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.

fWotD Episode 3252: 1937 tour of Germany by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor Welcome to featured Wiki of the Day, your daily dose of knowledge from Wikipedia's finest articles.The featured article for Tuesday, 31 March 2026, is 1937 tour of Germany by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.Prince Edward, Duke of Windsor, and Wallis, Duchess of Windsor, visited Nazi Germany in October 1937. Edward had abdicated the British throne in December 1936, and his brother George VI had become king. Edward had been given the title Duke of Windsor on abdication, and he married Wallis Simpson in June 1937. He appeared to have been sympathetic to Germany in this period and, that September, announced his intention to travel privately to Germany to tour factories. His interests, officially researching the social and economic conditions of the working classes, were against the backdrop of looming war in Europe. The Duke's supporters saw him as a potential peacemaker between Britain and Germany, but the British government refused to sanction such a role, opposed the tour and suspected that the Nazis would use the Duke's presence for propaganda. Prince Edward was keen for his wife, who had been rejected by the British establishment, to experience a state visit as his consort. He promised the government to keep a low profile, and the tour went ahead between 12 and 23 October 1937.The Duke and the Duchess, who were officially invited to the country by the German Labour Front, were chaperoned for much of their visit by its leader, Robert Ley. The couple visited factories, many of which were producing materiel for the rearmament effort, and the Duke inspected German troops. The Windsors were greeted by the British national anthem and Nazi salutes. They dined with high-ranking Nazis such as Joseph Goebbels, Hermann Göring, Joachim von Ribbentrop, and Albert Speer, and had tea with Adolf Hitler in Berchtesgaden. The Duke had a long private conversation with Hitler, but it is uncertain what they discussed, as the minutes of their meeting were lost during the war. The Duchess took afternoon tea with Hitler's deputy, Rudolf Hess. Hitler was sympathetic to the Windsors and treated the Duchess like royalty.The British government was unable to affect the course of events and forbade its diplomatic staff in Germany from having any high-level interaction with the Windsors. British popular opinion of the tour was muted, and most people viewed it as in poor taste and disrupting the first year of George's reign. The tour of Germany was intended to have been followed by one of the United States, but Nazi repression of working-class activists in Germany led to a wave of disapproval for the Windsors in the American labour movement, which led to the U. S. visit being cancelled. Modern historians tend to consider the 1937 tour as a reflection of both the Duke's lack of judgement and his disregard for the advice that he received.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 01:14 UTC on Tuesday, 31 March 2026.For the full current version of the article, see 1937 tour of Germany by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Bluesky at @wikioftheday.com.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm standard Joey.

Este documental reúne impactantes entrevistas realizadas en 1946 a altos jerarcas del Tercer Reich durante su detención previa al juicio de Núremberg. A través de sus propias palabras, los líderes nazis intentaron justificar sus acciones, minimizar su responsabilidad o desvincularse de los crímenes del régimen. Hermann Göring se presentó como un líder culto y decidido, asumiendo su papel como sucesor de Hitler, pero negó cualquier implicación en el exterminio de judíos. Aunque impulsó los primeros campos de concentración y dirigió el saqueo económico antisemita, se distanció de las atrocidades alegando ignorancia. Ernst Kaltenbrunner, jefe de la Oficina Central de Seguridad del Reich, intentó presentarse como un funcionario desinformado. Sin embargo, documentos firmados por él prueban su implicación directa en deportaciones, asesinatos masivos y la represión de opositores. Joachim von Ribbentrop, ministro de Exteriores, alegó desconocimiento sobre los crímenes del régimen y culpó a otros de las decisiones clave. Karl Dönitz, sucesor de Hitler, se mostró como un técnico naval sin vínculos políticos, aunque su papel en la continuidad del régimen fue decisivo. Todos recurrieron a justificaciones, evasivas o medias verdades. Pero los hechos, las pruebas y los testimonios en su contra fueron contundentes. La historia no los absolvió.

Last time we spoke about the end of the battle of khalkin gol. In the summer of 1939, the Nomonhan Incident escalated into a major border conflict between Soviet-Mongolian forces and Japan's Kwantung Army along the Halha River. Despite Japanese successes in July, Zhukov launched a decisive offensive on August 20. Under cover of darkness, Soviet troops crossed the river, unleashing over 200 bombers and intense artillery barrages that devastated Japanese positions. Zhukov's northern, central, and southern forces encircled General Komatsubara's 23rd Division, supported by Manchukuoan units. Fierce fighting ensued: the southern flank collapsed under Colonel Potapov's armor, while the northern Fui Heights held briefly before falling to relentless assaults, including flame-throwing tanks. Failed Japanese counterattacks on August 24 resulted in heavy losses, with regiments shattered by superior Soviet firepower and tactics. By August 25, encircled pockets were systematically eliminated, leading to the annihilation of the Japanese 6th Army. The defeat, coinciding with the Hitler-Stalin Pact, forced Japan to negotiate a ceasefire on September 15-16, redrawing borders. Zhukov's victory exposed Japanese weaknesses in mechanized warfare, influencing future strategies and deterring further northern expansion.   #192 The Soviet–Japanese Neutrality Pact 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. Despite the fact this technically will go into future events, I thought it was important we talk about a key moment in Sino history. Even though the battle of changkufeng and khalkin gol were not part of the second sino-Japanese war, their outcomes certainly would affect it.  Policymaking by the Soviet Union alone was not the primary factor in ending Moscow's diplomatic isolation in the late 1930s. After the Munich Conference signaled the failure of the popular front/united front approach, Neville Chamberlain, Adolf Hitler, and Poland's Józef Beck unintentionally strengthened Joseph Stalin's position in early 1939. Once the strategic cards were in his hands, Stalin capitalized on them. His handling of negotiations with Britain and France, as well as with Germany, from April to August was deft and effective. The spring and summer negotiations among the European powers are well documented and have been examined from many angles. In May 1939, while Stalin seemed to have the upper hand in Europe, yet before Hitler had signaled that a German–Soviet agreement might be possible, the Nomonhan incident erupted, a conflict initiated and escalated by the Kwantung Army. For a few months, the prospect of a Soviet–Japanese war revived concerns in Moscow about a two-front conflict. Reviewing Soviet talks with Britain, France, and Germany in the spring and summer of 1939 from an East Asian perspective sheds fresh light on the events that led to the German–Soviet Nonaggression Pact and, more broadly, to the outbreak of World War II. The second week of May marked the start of fighting at Nomonhan, during which negotiations between Germany and the USSR barely advanced beyond mutual scrutiny. Moscow signaled that an understanding with Nazi Germany might be possible. Notably, on May 4, the removal of Maksim Litvinov as foreign commissar and his replacement by Vyacheslav Molotov suggested a shift in approach. Litvinov, an urbane diplomat of Jewish origin and married to an Englishwoman, had been the leading Soviet proponent of the united-front policy and a steadfast critic of Nazi Germany. If a settlement with Hitler was sought, Litvinov was an unsuitable figure to lead the effort. Molotov, though with limited international experience, carried weight as chairman of the Council of Ministers and, more importantly, as one of Stalin's closest lieutenants. This personnel change seemed to accomplish its aim in Berlin, where the press was instructed on May 5 to halt polemical attacks on the Soviet Union and Bolshevism. On the same day, Karl Schnurre, head of the German Foreign Ministry's East European trade section, told Soviet chargé d'affaires Georgi Astakhov that Skoda, the German-controlled Czech arms manufacturer, would honor existing arms contracts with Russia. Astakhov asked whether, with Litvinov's departure, Germany might resume negotiations for a trade treaty Berlin had halted months earlier. By May 17, during discussions with Schnurre, Astakhov asserted that "there were no conflicts in foreign policy between Germany and the Soviet Union and that there was no reason for enmity between the two countries," and that Britain and France's negotiations appeared unpromising. The next day, Ribbentrop personally instructed Schulenburg to green-light trade talks. Molotov, however, insisted that a "political basis" for economic negotiations had to be established first. Suspicion remained high on both sides. Stalin feared Berlin might use reports of German–Soviet talks to destabilize a potential triple alliance with Britain and France; Hitler feared Stalin might use such reports to entice Tokyo away from an anti-German pact. The attempt to form a tripartite military alliance among Germany, Italy, and Japan foundered over divergent aims: Berlin targeted Britain and France; Tokyo aimed at the Soviet Union. Yet talks persisted through August 1939, with Japanese efforts to draw Germany into an anti-Soviet alignment continually reported to Moscow by Richard Sorge. Hitler and Mussolini, frustrated by Japanese objections, first concluded the bilateral Pact of Steel on May 22. The next day, Hitler, addressing his generals, stressed the inevitability of war with Poland and warned that opposition from Britain would be crushed militarily. He then hinted that Russia might "prove disinterested in the destruction of Poland," suggesting closer ties with Japan if Moscow opposed Germany. The exchange was quickly leaked to the press. Five days later, the first pitched battle of the Nomonhan campaign began. Although Hitler's timing with the Yamagata detachment's foray was coincidental, Moscow may have found the coincidence ominous. Despite the inducement of Molotov's call for a political basis before economic talks, Hitler and Ribbentrop did not immediately respond. On June 14, Astakhov signaled to Parvan Draganov, Bulgaria's ambassador in Berlin, that the USSR faced three options: ally with Britain and France, continue inconclusive talks with them, or align with Germany, the latter being closest to Soviet desires. Draganov relayed to the German Foreign Ministry that Moscow preferred a non-aggression agreement if Germany would pledge not to attack the Soviet Union. Two days later, Schulenburg told Astakhov that Germany recognized the link between economic and political relations and was prepared for far-reaching talks, a view echoed by Ribbentrop. The situation remained tangled: the Soviets pursued overt talks with Britain and France, while Stalin sought to maximize Soviet leverage. Chamberlain's stance toward Moscow remained wary but recognized a "psychological value" to an Anglo–Soviet rapprochement, tempered by his insistence on a hard bargain. American ambassador William C. Bullitt urged London to avoid the appearance of pursuing the Soviets, a view that resonated with Chamberlain's own distrust. Public confidence in a real Anglo–Soviet alliance remained low. By July 19, cabinet minutes show Chamberlain could not quite believe a genuine Russia–Germany alliance was possible, though he recognized the necessity of negotiations with Moscow to deter Hitler and to mollify an increasingly skeptical British public. Despite reservations, both sides kept the talks alive. Stalin's own bargaining style, with swift Soviet replies but frequent questions and demands, often produced delays. Molotov pressed on questions such as whether Britain and France would pledge to defend the Baltic states, intervene if Japan attacked the USSR, or join in opposing Germany if Hitler pressured Poland or Romania. These considerations were not trivial; they produced extended deliberations. On July 23, Molotov demanded that plans for coordinated military action among the three powers be fleshed out before a political pact. Britain and France accepted most political terms, and an Anglo-French military mission arrived in Moscow on August 11. The British commander, Admiral Sir Reginald Plunket-Ernle-Erle-Drax, conducted staff talks but could not conclude a military agreement. The French counterpart, General Joseph Doumenc, could sign but not bind his government. By then, Hitler had set August 26 as the date for war with Poland. With that looming, Hitler pressed for Soviet neutrality, or closer cooperation. In July and August, secret German–Soviet negotiations favored the Germans, who pressed for a rapid settlement and made most concessions. Yet Stalin benefited from keeping the British and French engaged, creating leverage against Hitler and safeguarding a potential Anglo–Soviet option as a fallback. To lengthen the talks and avoid immediate resolution, Moscow emphasized the Polish issue. Voroshilov demanded the Red Army be allowed to operate through Polish territory to defend Poland, a demand Warsaw would never accept. Moscow even floated a provocative plan: if Britain and France could compel Poland to permit Baltic State naval operations, the Western fleets would occupy Baltic ports, an idea that would have been militarily perilous and diplomatically explosive. Despite this, Stalin sought an agreement with Germany. Through Richard Sorge's intelligence, Moscow knew Tokyo aimed to avoid large-scale war with the USSR, and Moscow pressed for a German–Soviet settlement, including a nonaggression pact and measures to influence Japan to ease Sino–Japanese tensions. On August 16, Ribbentrop instructed Schulenburg to urge Molotov and Stalin toward a nonaggression pact and to coordinate with Japan. Stalin signaled willingness, and August 23–24 saw the drafting of the pact and the collapse of the Soviet and Japanese resistance elsewhere. That night, in a memorandum of Ribbentrop's staff, seven topics were summarized, with Soviet–Japanese relations and Molotov's insistence that Berlin demonstrate good faith standing out. Ribbentrop reiterated his willingness to influence Japan for a more favorable Soviet–Japanese relationship, and Stalin's reply indicated a path toward a détente in the East alongside the European agreement: "M. Stalin replied that the Soviet Union indeed desired an improvement in its relations with Japan, but that there were limits to its patience with regard to Japanese provocations. If Japan desired war she could have it. The Soviet Union was not afraid of it and was prepared for it. If Japan desired peace—so much the better! M. Stalin considered the assistance of Germany in bringing about an improvement in Soviet-Japanese relations as useful, but he did not want the Japanese to get the impression that the initiative in this direction had been taken by the Soviet Union."  Second, the assertion that the Soviet Union was prepared for and unafraid of war with Japan is an overstatement, though Stalin certainly had grounds for optimism regarding the battlefield situation and the broader East Asian strategic balance. It is notable that, despite the USSR's immediate diplomatic and military gains against Japan, Stalin remained anxious to conceal from Tokyo any peace initiative that originated in Moscow. That stance suggests that Tokyo or Hsinking might read such openness as a sign of Soviet weakness or confidence overextended. The Japanese danger, it would seem, did not disappear from Stalin's mind. Even at the height of his diplomatic coup, Stalin was determined not to burn bridges prematurely. On August 21, while he urged Hitler to send Ribbentrop to Moscow, he did not sever talks with Britain and France. Voroshilov requested a temporary postponement on the grounds that Soviet delegation officers were needed for autumn maneuvers. It was not until August 25, after Britain reiterated its resolve to stand by Poland despite the German–Soviet pact, that Stalin sent the Anglo–French military mission home. Fortified by the nonaggression pact, which he hoped would deter Britain and France from action, Hitler unleashed his army on Poland on September 1. Two days later, as Zhukov's First Army Group was completing its operations at Nomonhan, Hitler faced a setback when Britain and France declared war. Hitler had hoped to finish Poland quickly in 1939 and avoid fighting Britain and France until 1940. World War II in Europe had begun. The Soviet–Japanese conflict at Nomonhan was not the sole, nor even the principal, factor prompting Stalin to conclude an alliance with Hitler. Standing aside from a European war that could fracture the major capitalist powers might have been reason enough. Yet the conflict with Japan in the East was also a factor in Stalin's calculations, a dimension that has received relatively little attention in standard accounts of the outbreak of the war. This East Asian focus seeks to clarify the record without proposing a revolutionary reinterpretation of Soviet foreign policy; rather, it adds an important piece often overlooked in the "origins of the Second World War" puzzle, helping to reduce the overall confusion. The German–Soviet agreement provided for the Soviet occupation of the eastern half of Poland soon after Germany's invasion. On September 3, just forty-eight hours after the invasion and on the day Britain and France declared war, Ribbentrop urged Moscow to invade Poland from the east. Yet, for two more weeks, Poland's eastern frontier remained inviolate; Soviet divisions waited at the border, as most Polish forces were engaged against Germany. The German inquiries about the timing of the Soviet invasion continued, but the Red Army did not move. This inactivity is often attributed to Stalin's caution and suspicion, but that caution extended beyond Europe. Throughout early September, sporadic ground and air combat continued at Nomonhan, including significant activity by Kwantung Army forces on September 8–9, and large-scale air engagements on September 1–2, 4–5, and 14–15. Not until September 15 was the Molotov–Togo cease-fire arrangement finalized, to take effect on September 16. The very next morning, September 17, the Red Army crossed the Polish frontier into a country collapsed at its feet. It appears that Stalin wanted to ensure that fighting on his eastern flank had concluded before engaging in Western battles, avoiding a two-front war. Through such policies, Stalin avoided the disaster of a two-front war. Each principal in the 1939 diplomatic maneuvering pursued distinct objectives. The British sought an arrangement with the USSR that would deter Hitler from attacking Poland and, if deterred, bind Moscow to the Anglo–French alliance. Hitler sought an alliance with the USSR to deter Britain and France from aiding Poland and, if they did aid Poland, to secure Soviet neutrality. Japan sought a military alliance with Germany against the USSR, or failing that, stronger Anti-Comintern ties. Stalin aimed for an outcome in which Germany would fight the Western democracies, leaving him freedom to operate in both the West and East; failing that, he sought military reassurance from Britain and France in case he had to confront Germany. Of the four, only Stalin achieved his primary objective. Hitler secured his secondary objective; the British and Japanese failed to realize theirs. Stalin won the diplomatic contest in 1939. Yet, as diplomats gave way to generals, the display of German military power in Poland and in Western Europe soon eclipsed Stalin's diplomatic triumph. By playing Germany against Britain and France, Stalin gained leverage and a potential fallback, but at the cost of unleashing a devastating European war. As with the aftermath of the Portsmouth Treaty in 1905, Russo-Japanese relations improved rapidly after hostilities ceased at Nomonhan. The Molotov–Togo agreement of September 15 and the local truces arranged around Nomonhan on September 19 were observed scrupulously by both sides. On October 27, the two nations settled another long-standing dispute by agreeing to mutual release of fishing boats detained on charges of illegal fishing in each other's territorial waters. On November 6, the USSR appointed Konstantin Smetanin as ambassador to Tokyo, replacing the previous fourteen-month tenure of a chargé d'affaires. Smetanin's first meeting with the new Japanese foreign minister, Nomura Kichisaburö, in November 1939 attracted broad, favorable coverage in the Japanese press. In a break with routine diplomatic practice, Nomura delivered a draft proposal for a new fisheries agreement and a memo outlining the functioning of the joint border commission to be established in the Nomonhan area before Smetanin presented his credentials. On December 31, an agreement finalizing Manchukuo's payment to the USSR for the sale of the Chinese Eastern Railway was reached, and the Soviet–Japanese Fisheries Convention was renewed for 1940. In due course, the boundary near Nomonhan was formally redefined. A November 1939 agreement between Molotov and Togo established a mixed border commission representing the four parties to the dispute. After protracted negotiations, the border commission completed its redemarcation on June 14, 1941, with new border markers erected in August 1941. The resulting boundary largely followed the Soviet–MPR position, lying ten to twelve miles east of the Halha River. With that, the Nomonhan incident was officially closed.  Kwantung Army and Red Army leaders alike sought to "teach a lesson" to their foe at Nomonhan. The refrain recurs in documents and memoirs from both sides, "we must teach them a lesson." The incident provided lessons for both sides, but not all were well learned. For the Red Army, the lessons of Nomonhan intertwined with the laurels of victory, gratifying but sometimes distracting. Georgy Zhukov grasped the experience of modern warfare that summer, gaining more than a raised profile: command experience, confidence, and a set of hallmarks he would employ later. He demonstrated the ability to grasp complex strategic problems quickly, decisive crisis leadership, meticulous attention to logistics and deception, patience in building superior strength before striking at the enemy's weakest point, and the coordination of massed artillery, tanks, mechanized infantry, and tactical air power in large-scale double envelopment. These capabilities informed his actions at Moscow, Stalingrad, Kursk, and ultimately Berlin. It is tempting to wonder how Zhukov might have fared in the crucial autumn and winter of 1941 without Nomonhan, or whether he would have been entrusted with the Moscow front in 1941 had he not distinguished himself at Nomonhan. Yet the Soviet High Command overlooked an important lesson. Despite Zhukov's successes with independent tank formations and mechanized infantry, the command misapplied Spanish Civil War-era experience by disbanding armored divisions and redistributing tanks to infantry units to serve as support. It was not until after Germany demonstrated tank warfare in 1940 that the Soviets began reconstituting armored divisions and corps, a process still incomplete when the 1941 invasion began. The Red Army's performance at Nomonhan went largely unseen in the West. Western intelligence and military establishments largely believed the Red Army was fundamentally rotten, a view reinforced by the battlefield's remoteness and by both sides' reluctance to publicize the defeat. The Polish crisis and the outbreak of war in Europe drew attention away from Nomonhan, and the later Finnish Winter War reinforced negative Western judgments of Soviet military capability. U.S. military attaché Raymond Faymonville observed that the Soviets, anticipating a quick victory over Finland, relied on hastily summoned reserves ill-suited for winter fighting—an assessment that led some to judge the Red Army by its performance at Nomonhan. Even in Washington, this view persisted; Hitler reportedly called the Red Army "a paralytic on crutches" after Finland and then ordered invasion planning in 1941. Defeat can be a stronger teacher than victory. Because Nomonhan was a limited war, Japan's defeat was likewise limited, and its impact on Tokyo did not immediately recalibrate Japanese assessments. Yet Nomonhan did force Japan to revise its estimation of Soviet strength: the Imperial Army abandoned its strategic Plan Eight-B and adopted a more defensive posture toward the Soviet Union. An official inquiry into the debacle, submitted November 29, 1939, recognized Soviet superiority in materiel and firepower and urged Japan to bolster its own capabilities. The Kwantung Army's leadership, chastened, returned to the frontier with a more realistic sense of capability, even as the Army Ministry and AGS failed to translate lessons into policy. The enduring tendency toward gekokujo, the dominance of local and mid-level officers over central authority, remained persistent, and Tokyo did not fully purge it after Nomonhan. The Kwantung Army's operatives who helped drive the Nomonhan episode resurfaced in key posts at Imperial General Headquarters, contributing to Japan's 1941 decision to go to war. The defeat of the Kwantung Army at Nomonhan, together with the Stalin–Hitler pact and the outbreak of war in Europe, triggered a reorientation of Japanese strategy and foreign policy. The new government, led by the politically inexperienced and cautious General Abe Nobuyuki, pursued a conservative foreign policy. Chiang Kai-shek's retreat to Chongqing left the Chinese war at a stalemate: the Japanese Expeditionary Army could still inflict defeats on Chinese nationalist forces, but it had no viable path to a decisive victory. China remained Japan's principal focus. Still, the option of cutting Soviet aid to China and of moving north into Outer Mongolia and Siberia was discredited in Tokyo by the August 1939 double defeat. Northward expansion never again regained its ascendancy, though it briefly resurfaced in mid-1941 after Germany's invasion of the Soviet Union. Germany's alliance with the USSR during Nomonhan was viewed by Tokyo as a betrayal, cooling German–Japanese relations. Japan also stepped back from its confrontation with Britain over Tientsin. Tokyo recognized that the European war represented a momentous development that could reshape East Asia, as World War I had reshaped it before. The short-lived Abe government (September–December 1939) and its successor under Admiral Yonai Mitsumasa (December 1939–July 1940) adopted a cautious wait-and-see attitude toward the European war. That stance shifted in the summer of 1940, however, after Germany's successes in the West. With Germany's conquest of France and the Low Countries and Britain's fight for survival, Tokyo reassessed the global balance of power. Less than a year after Zhukov had effectively blocked further Japanese expansion northward, Hitler's victories seemed to open a southern expansion path. The prospect of seizing the resource-rich colonies in Southeast Asia, Dutch, French, and British and, more importantly, resolving the China problem in Japan's favor, tempted many in Tokyo. If Western aid to Chiang Kai-shek, channeled through Hong Kong, French Indochina, and Burma could be cut off, some in Tokyo believed Chiang might abandon resistance. If not, Japan could launch new operations against Chiang from Indochina and Burma, effectively turning China's southern flank. To facilitate a southward advance, Japan sought closer alignment with Germany and the USSR. Foreign Minister Yosuke Matsuoka brought Japan into the Tripartite Pact with Germany and Italy, in the hope of neutralizing the United States, and concluded a neutrality pact with the Soviet Union to secure calm in the north. Because of the European military situation, only the United States could check Japan's southward expansion. President Franklin D. Roosevelt appeared determined to do so and confident that he could. If the Manchurian incident and the Stimson Doctrine strained U.S.–Japanese relations, and the China War and U.S. aid to Chiang Kai-shek deepened mutual resentment, it was Japan's decision to press south against French, British, and Dutch colonies, and Roosevelt's resolve to prevent such a move, that put the two nations on a collision course. The dust had barely settled on the Mongolian plains following the Nomonhan ceasefire when the ripples of that distant conflict began to reshape the broader theater of the Second Sino-Japanese War. The defeat at Nomonhan in August 1939, coupled with the shocking revelation of the German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact, delivered a profound strategic blow to Japan's imperial ambitions. No longer could Tokyo entertain serious notions of a "northern advance" into Soviet territory, a strategy that had long tantalized military planners as a means to secure resources and buffer against communism. Instead, the Kwantung Army's humiliation exposed glaring deficiencies in Japanese mechanized warfare, logistics, and intelligence, forcing a pivot southward. This reorientation not only cooled tensions with the Soviet Union but also allowed Japan to redirect its military focus toward the protracted stalemate in China. As we transition from the border clashes of the north to the heartland tensions in central China, it's essential to trace how these events propelled Japan toward the brink of a major offensive in Hunan Province, setting the stage for what would become a critical confrontation. In the immediate aftermath of Nomonhan, Japan's military high command grappled with the implications of their setback. The Kwantung Army, once a symbol of unchecked aggression, was compelled to adopt a defensive posture along the Manchurian-Soviet border. The ceasefire agreement, formalized on September 15-16, 1939, effectively neutralized the northern front, freeing up significant resources and manpower that had been tied down in the escalating border skirmishes. This was no small relief; the Nomonhan campaign had drained Japanese forces, with estimates of over 18,000 casualties and the near-total annihilation of the 23rd Division. The psychological impact was equally severe, shattering the myth of Japanese invincibility against a modern, mechanized opponent. Georgy Zhukov's masterful use of combined arms—tanks, artillery, and air power—highlighted Japan's vulnerabilities, prompting internal reviews that urged reforms in tank production, artillery doctrine, and supply chains. Yet, these lessons were slow to implement, and in the short term, the primary benefit was the opportunity to consolidate efforts elsewhere. For Japan, "elsewhere" meant China, where the war had devolved into a grinding attrition since the fall of Wuhan in October 1938. The capture of Wuhan, a major transportation hub and temporary capital of the Nationalist government under Chiang Kai-shek, had been hailed as a turning point. Japanese forces, under the command of General Shunroku Hata, had pushed deep into central China, aiming to decapitate Chinese resistance. However, Chiang's strategic retreat to Chongqing transformed the conflict into a war of endurance. Nationalist forces, bolstered by guerrilla tactics and international aid, harassed Japanese supply lines and prevented a decisive knockout blow. By mid-1939, Japan controlled vast swaths of eastern and northern China, including key cities like Beijing, Shanghai, and Nanjing, but the cost was immense: stretched logistics, mounting casualties, and an inability to fully pacify occupied territories. The Nomonhan defeat exacerbated these issues by underscoring the limits of Japan's military overextension. With the northern threat abated, Tokyo's Army General Staff saw an opening to intensify operations in China, hoping to force Chiang to the negotiating table before global events further complicated the picture. The diplomatic fallout from Nomonhan and the Hitler-Stalin Pact further influenced this shift. Japan's betrayal by Germany, its nominal ally under the Anti-Comintern Pact—fostered distrust and isolation. Tokyo's flirtations with a full Axis alliance stalled, as the pact with Moscow revealed Hitler's willingness to prioritize European gains over Asian solidarity. This isolation prompted Japan to reassess its priorities, emphasizing self-reliance in China while eyeing opportunistic expansions elsewhere. Domestically, the Hiranuma cabinet collapsed in August 1939 amid the diplomatic shock, paving the way for the more cautious Abe Nobuyuki government. Abe's administration, though short-lived, signaled a temporary de-escalation in aggressive posturing, but the underlying imperative to resolve the "China Incident" persisted. Japanese strategists believed that capturing additional strategic points in central China could sever Chiang's lifelines, particularly the routes funneling aid from the Soviet Union and the West via Burma and Indochina. The seismic shifts triggered by Nomonhan compelled Japan to fundamentally readjust its China policy and war plans, marking a pivotal transition from overambitious northern dreams to a more focused, albeit desperate, campaign in the south. With the Kwantung Army's defeat fresh in mind, Tokyo's Imperial General Headquarters initiated a comprehensive strategic review in late August 1939. The once-dominant "Northern Advance" doctrine, which envisioned rapid conquests into Siberia for resources like oil and minerals, was officially shelved. In its place emerged a "Southern Advance" framework, prioritizing the consolidation of gains in China and potential expansions into Southeast Asia. This pivot was not merely tactical; it reflected a profound policy recalibration aimed at ending the quagmire in China, where two years of war had yielded territorial control but no decisive victory over Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalists. Central to this readjustment was a renewed emphasis on economic and military self-sufficiency. The Nomonhan debacle had exposed Japan's vulnerabilities in mechanized warfare, leading to urgent reforms in industrial production. Tank manufacturing was ramped up, with designs influenced by observed Soviet models, and artillery stockpiles were bolstered to match the firepower discrepancies seen on the Mongolian steppes. Logistically, the Army General Staff prioritized streamlining supply lines in China, recognizing that prolonged engagements demanded better resource allocation. Politically, the Abe Nobuyuki cabinet, installed in September 1939, adopted a "wait-and-see" approach toward Europe but aggressively pursued diplomatic maneuvers to isolate China. Efforts to negotiate with Wang Jingwei's puppet regime in Nanjing intensified, aiming to undermine Chiang's legitimacy and splinter Chinese resistance. Japan also pressured Vichy France for concessions in Indochina, seeking to choke off aid routes to Chongqing. War plans evolved accordingly, shifting from broad-front offensives to targeted strikes designed to disrupt Chinese command and supply networks. The China Expeditionary Army, under General Yasuji Okamura, was restructured to emphasize mobility and combined arms operations, drawing partial lessons from Zhukov's tactics. Intelligence operations were enhanced, with greater focus on infiltrating Nationalist strongholds in central provinces. By early September, plans coalesced around a major push into Hunan Province, a vital crossroads linking northern and southern China. Hunan's river systems and rail lines made it a linchpin for Chinese logistics, funneling men and materiel to the front lines. Japanese strategists identified key urban centers in the region as critical objectives, believing their capture could sever Chiang's western supply corridors and force a strategic retreat. This readjustment was not without internal friction. Hardliners in the military lamented the abandonment of northern ambitions, but the reality of Soviet strength—and the neutrality pacts that followed—left little room for debate. Economically, Japan ramped up exploitation of occupied Chinese territories, extracting coal, iron, and rice to fuel the war machine. Diplomatically, Tokyo sought to mend fences with the Soviets through the 1941 Neutrality Pact, ensuring northern security while eyes turned south. Yet, these changes brewed tension with the United States, whose embargoes on scrap metal and oil threatened to cripple Japan's ambitions. As autumn approached, the stage was set for a bold gambit in central China. Japanese divisions massed along the Yangtze River, poised to strike at the heart of Hunan's defenses. Intelligence reports hinted at Chinese preparations, with Xue Yue's forces fortifying positions around a major provincial hub. The air thickened with anticipation of a clash that could tip the balance in the interminable war—a test of Japan's revamped strategies against a resilient foe determined to hold the line. What unfolded would reveal whether Tokyo's post-Nomonhan pivot could deliver the breakthrough so desperately needed, or if it would merely prolong the bloody stalemate. 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 1939, the Nomonhan Incident saw Soviet forces under Georgy Zhukov decisively defeat Japan's Kwantung Army at Khalkin Gol, exposing Japanese weaknesses in mechanized warfare. This setback, coupled with the Hitler-Stalin Nonaggression Pact, shattered Japan's northern expansion plans and prompted a strategic pivot southward. Diplomatic maneuvers involving Stalin, Hitler, Britain, France, and Japan reshaped alliances, leading to the Soviet-Japanese Neutrality Pact in 1941. Japan refocused on China, intensifying operations in Hunan Province to isolate Chiang Kai-shek.   

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. 

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. 

Is Europe's defense investment wave real, or is it simply venture capital wrapped in a Ukrainian flag?The debate featured Nicholas Nelson, General Partner at Archangel Ventures, and Sebastian von Ribbentrop, Founding Partner at Join Capital.At stake is more than narrative. It is about capability, returns, sovereignty — and the structural future of European capital markets.Until recently, defense investing in Europe was controversial. Many institutional LPs avoided the sector. ESG mandates were interpreted narrowly. Defense was often softened under the label “dual-use.” Russia's invasion of Ukraine changed the landscape. Defense budgets rose. Political rhetoric shifted. Venture capital began flowing into the sector at unprecedented levels.But the central question remains:Is this a structural capital reallocation — or a short-term momentum trade?The debate crystallizes around one fault line: defense-first vs dual-use.Nicholas argues Europe's hesitation to embrace defense-first investing is both strategically and financially misguided. Defense-only startups, he contends, have historically outperformed. Dual-use often dilutes focus by forcing two distinct go-to-market motions. Real capability requires designing directly for the warfighter — not adapting commercial products later. In his view, dual-use in Europe often functions as a reputational hedge rather than a strategy.Sebastian counters that dual-use is not compromise — it is risk management. Advanced technologies can serve both industrial and defense customers without duplicating entire teams. Diversified revenue reduces concentration risk. Non-dilutive defense contracts can substitute late-stage equity rounds in a region where growth capital remains thin. And Europe's comparative advantage may lie less in building vertically integrated primes — and more in dominating high-precision subsystems.As the conversation escalates, it moves beyond product strategy into a deeper structural issue: scale capital. Even where early-stage defense investment has improved, later-stage funding remains limited. Several leading European defense startups have relied heavily on US or Middle Eastern growth capital.Which raises uncomfortable questions:Can Europe build independent defense champions without foreign growth capital?Will its strongest companies inevitably “pick a flag” as they scale?Is fragmentation across 30+ procurement regimes Europe's structural disadvantage?Without coordination at scale, even strong early-stage ecosystems struggle to produce global champions.What's covered:00:30 Framing the question — structural shift or narrative trade?02:00 From taboo to trend — ESG optics and the Ukraine inflection point04:15 Defense-first vs dual-use — the core strategic divide07:30 The defense-first case — focus, procurement alignment, and capability building11:00 The dual-use counterargument — diversification and risk management14:30 Subsystems vs primes — where Europe's advantage may lie18:00 The growth capital gap — reliance on US and Middle Eastern funding21:00 “Picking a flag” — sovereignty vs scale23:30 Procurement fragmentation — 30+ regimes and scaling friction26:00 Final takeaway — Europe's defense future depends on capital conviction and coordination

THE TENNANT MISSION AND THE SUMMER OF 1939 Colleague Charles Spicer. In the summer of 1939, Ernest Tennant undertook a secret mission to Austria to meet his former friend Ribbentrop, acting with the plausible deniability of 10 Downing Street. At a confiscated castle, Tennant learned that Hitler was mirroring Ribbentrop'saggressive stance, planning a long war and targeting Poland. This intelligence convinced London to accelerate a defense pact with Poland, though Chamberlain failed to secure a necessary alliance with the Soviet Union due to his personal antipathy toward Stalin. Despite accurate intelligence from the amateur spies regarding the imminent invasion of Polandand the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, the British leadership failed to act decisively or explore regime change, missing the final opportunities to stop the dictator before the outbreak of hostilities. NUMBER 12 1946 DEFENSE ATTORNEYS AT NUREMBERG

NUREMBERG AND THE POST-WAR SILENCE Colleague Charles Spicer. At the Nuremberg trials, Ribbentropappeared a broken man, attempting to call amateur spies like Conwell-Evans as witnesses to prove his pre-war desire for peace, a defense that ultimately failed to excuse his war crimes. His widow, Anneliese, later wrote memoirs obsessing over social slights in London, displaying a detachment from the reality of the Holocaust. Conversely, in the "Ministries Trial," Lord Vansittart denied his connections to the German resistance, likely because admitting to these chaotic back-channel efforts was too uncomfortable for a Foreign Office that preferred the narrative of inevitable total war. Consequently, the Anglo-German Fellowship, despite having had government approval, was brushed under the carpet of history, its role in attempting to avert catastrophe largely forgotten. NUMBER 15 1945-46 TRIBUNAL JUDGES.

THE AMATEUR SPIES AND THE 1934 DINNER Colleague Charles Spicer. In December 1934, Ernest Tennant, a British banker deeply scarred by the loss of friends and family in the First World War, attended a pivotal dinner in Berlin with Adolf Hitler and Joachim von Ribbentrop. Tennant, along with fellow protagonist Philip Conwell-Evans, sought to prevent another continental war by fostering closer ties between British and German society through organizations like the Anglo-German Fellowship. Ribbentrop, an Anglophile who had lived in London, used these social connections to move decision-makers closer to the Nazi leadership, exploiting the fact that the British government initially viewed Hitler with disdain and had not engaged him diplomatically. The narrative introduces the Travelers Clubin London as a hub for these internationalists and intelligence figures, setting the stage for a story of amateur espionage aimed at civilizing a regime that would eventually launch a predatory war. NUMBER 1 1945 NUREMBERG PROSECUTION

THE 1936 OLYMPICS AND DIPLOMATIC GAMES Colleague Charles Spicer. During the 1936 Berlin Olympics, the Nazi regime launched a charm offensive, wining and dining officials like Vansittart, who returned to Londonalarmed yet somewhat placated by Hitler's apparent desire for peace. Ribbentrop, desperate for promotion, hosted lavish events but was viewed by British diplomats as an intellectual lightweight and socially insecure. In a significant diplomatic maneuver, the Anglo-German Fellowship circumvented Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin's refusal to meet Hitler by arranging for former Prime Minister David Lloyd George to visit the dictator. Lloyd George, a political titan and the man who had won the First World War, was seen as an ideal figure to build rapport and potentially civilize the German leadership. NUMBER 4 1945-46 KESSELRING ACCUSED

RIBBENTROP'S ARRIVAL AND SOCIAL DISASTERS Colleague Charles Spicer. Joachim von Ribbentroparrived at Victoria Station as the new German ambassador with a cynical mission from Hitler to forge an alliance that would neutralize Britain while Germany conquered the continent. His tenure was immediately marred by clumsiness and a lack of humor; he gave ill-advised press remarks and famously delivered a Nazi salute to King George VI, nearly causing the monarch to fall backward. His wife, Anneliese, was equally thin-skinned and offended by the British press's mockery, which only intensified the ridicule. Meanwhile, the British appointed Neville Henderson as their ambassador to Berlin, a man whose fatalism and desire not to antagonize Hitler led him to pursue a disastrous policy of appeasement. NUMBER 6 1946 NUREMBERG TRIAL ATTENDANCE.

THE CORONATION AND INTELLIGENCE NETWORKS Colleague Charles Spicer. The coronation of George VI in May 1937 became a backdrop for diplomatic maneuvering, culminating in a disastrously overcrowded party at the German embassy organized by the social-climbing Anneliese Ribbentrop. While Nazi sympathizers and high society mingled, the Anglo-German Fellowship was infiltrated by Kim Philby, who was hired to manage publicity while secretly reporting to Soviet intelligence. Simultaneously, realizing the futility of civilizing the Nazis, Conwell-Evans and Christie transitioned into functioning as a "private detective agency" for Vansittart, utilizing their access to gather intelligence that the official services lacked. Despite the social chaos and espionage, German War Minister von Blomberg attended the coronation and was well-received, hinting at alternative diplomatic paths had Ribbentrop not intervened. NUMBER 7 1946 DEFENSE COUNCIL AT THE NUREMBERG TRIAL

COMMERCE AND THE ORIGINS OF THE FELLOWSHIP Colleague Charles Spicer. The Anglo-German Fellowship was headquartered at the Metropole Hotel in London in 1935, immediately attracting major business interests, including Unilever, which had vast assets in Germany and sought to avoid war to protect its commercial empire. While business leaders were initially anxious about the brutality of the Nazi regime, the stabilization following the Night of the Long Knives led optimists to believe the regime could be civilized. Ribbentrop took credit in Berlin for the Fellowship's success, which gave members extraordinary access to Hitler. The organization also attracted Germanindustrialists like Robert Bosch, who despised the Nazis but joined the Berlin counterpart, the Deutsch-Englische Gesellschaft, hoping to maintain international ties and prevent conflict. NUMBER 2 1945-46. TWO GERMAN ADMIRALS ACCUSED  N THE NUREMBERG TRISL

PREVIEW FOR LATER TONIGHT RIBBENTROP'S DESCENT FROM ANGLOPHILE TO ENEMY Colleague Charles Spicer. Joachim von Ribbentrop served as Hitler's ambassador to Britain, initially acting as a sophisticated Anglophile. However, after social gaffes and influence from his wife, his admiration turned to vitriolic hatred. Spicerdetails how this irrational shift influenced decisions leading up to the war and Ribbentrop's eventual hanging. 1945-46 DEFENSE ATTORNEYS NUREMBERG

Judgment at Nuremberg and Post-War Denial: Colleague Charles Spicer recounts that at the Nuremberg trials, a broken Ribbentrop attempted to call Conwell-Evans and Tennant as witnesses to prove his pre-war peace efforts, while Göring remained defiant and Hess exhibited erratic behavior; discussing the "Ministries Trial" and the post-war tendency of British officials including Vansittart to deny their connections to the amateur spies, this denial stemmed from embarrassment over their chaotic engagement with the Nazis and the uncomfortable realization that the war might have been preventable. 1938

The Oster Conspiracy and the Resilience of the Fellowship: Colleague Charles Spicer discusses the 1938 crisis, focusing on the "Oster Conspiracy," a credible German plot to arrest Hitler that was undermined by Prime Minister Chamberlain's appeasement visits; despite the shock of Kristallnacht, the Anglo-German Fellowship remained a crucial channel for intelligence, with reports from Conwell-Evans regarding Ribbentrop discussed in the British Cabinet, proving that high-quality intelligence was reaching decision-makers, though the British government prioritized diplomatic engagement over supporting internal regime change, missing a significant opportunity to stop the dictator. 1938

1939: Diplomatic Disasters and Soviet Infiltration: Colleague Charles Spicer explains that by early 1939, relations deteriorated as Ribbentrop, now Foreign Minister, turned violently anti-British following his social failures in London, characterizing British Ambassador Neville Henderson as a disastrous "arch-appeaser" who refused to upset the Nazi regime; meanwhile, Conwell-Evans continued to gather intelligence while enduring threatening luncheons with Ribbentrop, and the Soviets infiltrated the narrative through the book Tory MP, which attacked the Fellowship and was written by authors recruited by Soviet intelligence. 1938

The Tennant Mission and the Failure of Alliances: Colleague Charles Spicer recounts that in the summer of 1939, Ernest Tennant undertook a final secret mission to Ribbentrop's Austrian castle, confirming that Hitler intended to attack Poland and wage a long war; while London believed this intelligence and pursued a pact with Poland, Chamberlain's deep antipathy toward the Soviets delayed an alliance with Stalin, and Soviet spies leaked these diplomatic moves to Germany, accelerating the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, emphasizing that despite accurate intelligence from the amateur spies, British leadership failed to exploit opportunities. 1938

Ribbentrop in London: Gaffes and Alienation: Colleague Charles Spicer describes Ribbentrop's arrival in London as Ambassador with a cynical mandate from Hitler to neutralize Britain diplomatically, characterizing his tenure as a social disaster marked by gaffes such as giving the Nazi salute to the King; his wife Anneliese is depicted as thin-skinned and unable to handle the British press's mockery, while Sir Neville Henderson, the British Ambassador to Berlin, whose desire to accommodate Hitler was exacerbated by his secret battle with terminal cancer, influenced disastrous appeasement policies. 1933

Founding the Fellowship: Amateur Spies and the Quest for Peace: Colleague Charles Spicer introduces Ernest Tennant, a British WWI veteran deeply traumatized by the loss of his peers, who established a connection with Joachim von Ribbentrop, then an Anglophile, to bridge the gap between London and Berlin, leading to the creation of the Anglo-German Fellowship; key figures include the scholar Philip Conwell-Evans and Lord Lothian, with the Travelers Club in London serving as the operational hub where these "amateur spies" sought to civilize the Nazis through diplomacy. 1933

Good Sunday to you,A bit of admin before we come to today's thought piece.First, in case you missed it, here is this week's commentary, mostly ranting about the budget, the UK's inept leadership and what actions you, as an investor, should take:And this week I also appeared on comedian Geoff Norcott's podcast, What Most People Think. Here are the links to the show on Apple and Spotify, if of interest.But for your thought piece today, we have another great little World War Two gold story which didn't make the cut. The farcical journey of Albanian and Italian gold (NB: a tonne of gold is about a medium-sized suitcase full).As the Nazis took both Austria and Czechoslovakia with ease, Italian Prime Minister Benito Mussolini grew anxious to flex his own muscles.Albania would be his target. Geographically, culturally and historically, it made sense: Albania had been part of the Roman Empire even before northern Italy.In April 1939, Italy invaded with a force that contained 400 planes, 300 small tanks, 12 warships, and 22,000 men. But some untrained Albanian locals with the help of a few soldiers managed to drive them back into the sea. Such was 20th century Italian warfare.The Italians made it on the second attempt, however, and the capital, Tirana, fell.The Albanian King Zog gave an impassioned speech on the radio, urging resistance, but nobody heard it because Albania at the time had fewer than 2,000 radios, and the Italians soon managed to jam the airwaves anyway. Shortly after giving the speech, like the true patriot he was, he fled the country, taking enough gold with him to lead a long life of luxury in exile, eventually ending up in Egypt as a guest of King Farouk, to whom he had to pay $20 million for refuge.Albania's founders believed in gold, and their currency, the lek, was based on it. Inflation, as a result, had been nonexistent. The central bank was established in the summer of 1925, and it had worked hard to build up its gold holdings. At home, it had encouraged citizens to swap their jewellery for paper money. That private gold was then added to the nation's gold holdings. Whenever possible, the country increased its gold holdings in London.But by the time of the invasion in 1939, most of Albania's 2.3 tonnes was in Italy anyway, where it had been sent for safekeeping. The Italians managed to confiscate quite a bit more in coins and jewellery from citizens.We fast forward four years.The Italian dilemma: give their gold to the Nazis or the Allies? In 1943, Allied forces moved north from Africa into Sicily and then Italy: the invasion of the soft underbelly of Europe had begun.Hectic days followed the ousting of Mussolini in July. The Italian Fascists were still nominally in charge. They declared Rome an open city in the hope of avoiding Allied air attacks. But by September 1943, the Nazis had control of the capital and central Italy, and they wanted Italy's gold moved to Berlin, while they still had control of the area.They began confiscating the gold of Italian citizens in Rome, especially Italian Jews. The amounts demanded were unrealistic, but Roman Jews reached into their family treasures, their synagogues and institutions to turn in what they had. The Pope, Pius XII, heard about the demands and authorised Catholic churches to lend Jews gold so they could reach the quota.But the big prize was in the Italian Central Bank, and several Nazi organisations had their eyes on it: Himmler's SS, Göring's Four Year Plan, von Ribbentrop's Foreign Office, and Funk's Reichsbank. Even the Bank of International Settlements (BIS), which was worried about its investments in Italy, started making demands that Italy send it gold. Initially, the governor of the Italian bank, Vincenzo Azzolini, made out that he was offended by the idea, but he soon realised the BIS was a better option than Berlin, whichever Nazi department received it.The Italians did not know what to do. On the one hand, they did not want the Nazis to have their gold, but nor did they want the invading Allies to have it either. They thought of sending it to Sardinia, they thought of sending it to the Swiss border. They sent small amounts of gold to branch offices around Italy, but the Bologna gold went missing, as did much of the Milan gold - now supposedly in Turin, but actually hidden in a well. They even sent some to colonial outposts in Benghazi, Rhodes and Addis Ababa.The Albanian gold Italy had stolen was still sitting in the Italian bank's vault, so, under pressure from the Nazis, they sent that up to the Reichsbank in Berlin, while they tried to come up with a solution.The following day, Niccolò Introna, the Italian bank's deputy general manager, had his plan: to build a false wall in the bank's underground vaults. He would then backdate documents to show the gold had been moved to Potenza, a town in the Italian south that was about to fall into Allied hands, but hide the gold behind the wall.Bank governor Azzolini approved the plan, but then ruled that only half the gold should be hidden. The next day the wall was built. The day after that, the official order to ship the gold to Berlin came in from the German ambassador. If the bank did not agree, the Germans would simply seize it. At this point, Azzolini learned that the Germans had seized government records, from which they would know the size and location of the country's gold. Azzolini lost his nerve and had the wall torn down.The next day, the German military unit arrived at the bank with orders to move the gold north by air. Azzolini stalled them, saying it would be safer by train. The Germans sent 5 tonnes by air, the rest - 119 tonnes - was sent by train to Milan. From there, it was shipped to Fortezza, Bolzano, close to the border with Germany and under their control, where it stayed for several months. The now-ousted Mussolini even signed his approval that it be sent there.The following spring, Azzolini, who above all wanted to stop the gold going to Berlin, struck a deal with Swiss and German representatives that would see 26 tonnes sent to Switzerland, some to the BIS and some to the Swiss National Bank.Göring, however, insisted he needed money and suggested giving Italy Reichsmarks for its gold. The deal was signed without the Bank of Italy knowing about it. 50 tonnes left Fortezza, which included 8 tonnes Italy had stolen from Yugoslavia earlier in the war in "restitution" (that's another story). The delivery arrived in Berlin a tonne light. As almost always by this point in the war, someone had their hands in the till.The process of shipping the next batch of Italian gold - some 22 tonnes - went on for months, as some (but not all) Italian officials tried to stall. But eventually, that too was dispatched. That too arrived in Berlin a tonne light.When American forces eventually liberated Fortezza, they found 25 tonnes. It was handed over to the Bank of Italy.What a mess.Stories like this fill the pages of The Secret History of Gold (although this one didn't actually make the cut).The Secret History of Gold is available at Amazon, Waterstones and all good bookshops. I hear the audiobook, read by me, is excellent. And it would make a wonderful Christmas present! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.theflyingfrisby.com/subscribe

20 listopada 1945 roku w Norymberdze rozpoczyna się jeden z najsłynniejszych procesów w historii. Przed międzynarodowym trybunałem złożonym z sędziów z Wielkiej Brytanii, Francji, Stanów Zjednoczonych i Związku Radzieckiego, stają byli nazistowscy dygnitarze. Na ławie oskarżonych zasiada 21 osób, w tym Hermann Göring, Albert Speer czy Joachim von Ribbentrop. Przez następne kilka miesięcy na sali rozpraw zostanie przesłuchanych wielu świadków a oskarżyciele zaprezentują dowody, ukazujące skalę zbrodni popełnionych przez nazistowskie Niemcy. Jak wyglądały przygotowania do procesu? Dlaczego zdecydowano, że odbędzie się on w Norymberdze? Jakie były kulisy politycznych sporów między aliantami? Odpowiedzi na te pytania poznacie w tym odcinku Misji specjalnej.

Paramilitari, avvocati, direttori ministeriali, esponenti politici: a Wannsee il 20 gennaio 1942 c'era un affresco completo dell'universo nazista. Compreso l'incaricato del Ministero degli Esteri. Un uomo che portava lo stesso nome del grande riformatore protestante, Martin Luther. Ma questo Luther era ben distante per formazione e pratica dal suo omonimo: calcolatore e profittatore, aveva sfruttato l'intima amicizia con von Ribbentrop per scalare la gerarchia degli Esteri divenendo punto di contatto tra il partito, le SS, il governo e gli Stati dell'Asse. Con un solo obiettivo: lavorare alla soluzione finale, di cui avrebbe lasciato dietro di sé una prova documentale agghiacciante.

Europa no cayó en 1939. Empezó a caer veinte años antes. Este episodio de Noches de Historia te lleva a recorrer, paso a paso, el camino que llevó al continente al borde del colapso: desde la herida abierta del Tratado de Versalles hasta el pacto Ribbentrop–Molotov y la invasión de Polonia. En este capítulo analizamos cómo el resentimiento alemán, las ambiciones de Hitler, la pasividad de las democracias europeas y el giro estratégico de Stalin fueron encajando como piezas de un dominó que acabaría desencadenando la Segunda Guerra Mundial. Un viaje narrativo que reconstruye los hechos clave entre 1919 y 1939: La humillación del Tratado de Versalles y su impacto en la sociedad alemana. El ascenso de Hitler y la transformación del NSDAP en un movimiento de masas. Remilitarización de Renania, Anschluss de Austria y crisis de los Sudetes. El fracaso del Pacto de Múnich y el desmembramiento de Checoslovaquia. El desengaño soviético con Occidente tras España, Renania y Múnich. Las purgas de Stalin y su impacto en la URSS en vísperas de la guerra. La negociación secreta con Hitler y la firma del pacto Ribbentrop–Molotov. El protocolo secreto que repartió Polonia y los estados del Este de Europa. El inicio inevitable: la invasión alemana del 1 de septiembre de 1939. Un capítulo imprescindible para entender por qué Europa se derrumbó sin apenas resistencia y cómo dos dictaduras irreconciliables encontraron un terreno común para repartirse territorios, pueblos y fronteras.Porque en la historia, como en la noche, nada es lo que parece. Puedes conseguir la música y los ambientes sonoros de mi podcast gracias a : https://www.epidemicsound.com/referral/gox60d 📩 CONTACTO Y MÁS INFORMACIÓN: Email: contacto@ivanpatxi.es Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nochesdehistoria/ Ivoox: https://www.ivoox.com/podcast-noches-historia_sq_f12696446_1.html ******* Web: https://www.ivanpatxi.es Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ivanpatxi LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ivanpatxigomezgallego Suscríbete al canal para no perderte ningún capítulo: https://www.youtube.com/@UCR7pXz_YWqluYNSzqsL8DYw Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Den 20 november 1945 fördes Hermann Göring, Joachim von Ribbentrop, Wilhelm Keitel och Karl Dönitz och arton andra högt uppsatta ledare inom Tredje riket in i rättssalen i Nürnberg. De åtalade hade varit arkitekterna bakom ett av historiens mest brutala krig och folkmord.Aldrig tidigare hade en hel nations ledarskap ställts till svars för brott utan motstycke i mänsklighetens historia. Nürnbergrättegångarna blev inte bara en uppgörelse med nazismens oerhörda brott – de reformerade också internationell rätt i grunden. Här föddes folkrätten.I detta ett premiumavsnitt av podden Historia Nu, som enbart är tillgänglig i sin helhet för dem som prenumerar på Historia Nu Premium, diskuterar programledaren Urban Lindstedt med Ulf Zander, professor i historia vid Lunds universitet om hur Nürnbergrättegångarna organiserades, genomfördes och vilka konsekvenser de fick.Ni kan stödja Historia Nu För 75 kr/mån (vid lanseringen 60 kr/mån i tre månader) eller 750 kr/år för att försäkra poddens framtid samt få två extra avsnitt varje månad och alla vanliga avsnitt reklamfria.Bli premiummedlem på www.historia.nu/premium Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The Empire of Japan's decision to break with liberal democracies in favor of rising fascist powers was driven, in part, by the successes enjoyed by said fascist powers throughout the 1930s. In this episode, we discuss how their leaders managed to consolidate that power in the first place.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 Day in Legal History: Nuremberg ExecutionsOn October 16, 1946, ten prominent Nazi war criminals were executed by hanging in the aftermath of the landmark Nuremberg Trials, held to prosecute key figures of the Third Reich for crimes against humanity, war crimes, and crimes against peace. The executions marked the culmination of months of legal proceedings conducted by an international military tribunal composed of judges from the Allied powers: the United States, the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union, and France. Among those hanged was Joachim von Ribbentrop, Hitler's former Foreign Minister, convicted for his role in orchestrating Nazi foreign policy and enabling the Holocaust.The trials had concluded in late September 1946, with 12 of the 22 main defendants receiving death sentences. However, Hermann Göring, one of the most high-profile defendants and head of the Luftwaffe, committed suicide by cyanide just hours before his scheduled execution. The hangings took place inside the gymnasium of the Nuremberg Palace of Justice, where the tribunal had convened, and were carried out in the early morning hours.The executions were overseen by U.S. Army personnel, and steps were taken to document them for historical record. The event was viewed by many as a pivotal moment in the establishment of international criminal law, affirming that individuals—even heads of state and high-ranking officials—could be held personally accountable for war atrocities. These proceedings laid the groundwork for future tribunals, including those for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda.Some criticized the process as “victor's justice,” pointing to perceived inconsistencies in sentencing and legal procedures. Nevertheless, the trials represented a significant shift from the post-World War I approach, which had failed to adequately prosecute war crimes. The executions on October 16 symbolized not only the end of an era of unchecked totalitarian violence but also the beginning of a new international legal order based on accountability and the rule of law.A federal judge in California has temporarily blocked the Trump administration's latest wave of federal layoffs, calling the move likely “illegal and in excess of authority.” In a sharply worded order, U.S. District Judge Susan Illston halted terminations that began last week, siding with a coalition of federal worker unions. Illston criticized the administration's approach as “ready, fire, aim” and warned that the human cost of such abrupt cuts is unacceptable.The layoffs—over 4,100 in total—targeted several federal agencies, with the Departments of Health and Human Services and Treasury seeing the bulk of cuts. Judge Illston's order requires the administration to report all completed and planned layoffs by Friday and set a hearing for a preliminary injunction on October 28. She also rejected the Department of Justice's attempt to steer the case toward procedural issues, stating that the legal merits were too concerning to ignore.President Trump has framed the cuts as politically motivated, stating they were aimed at eliminating programs he called “egregious socialist, semi-communist.” He added that Republican-backed programs would be spared. The administration recently lifted a long-standing hiring freeze but is now requiring agencies to submit staffing plans for approval.Union plaintiffs argue that the layoffs violate the Antideficiency Act and the Administrative Procedure Act, citing the administration's use of the government shutdown as an arbitrary justification. This case, AFGE v. OMB, marks another legal confrontation over workforce reductions, following an earlier freeze issued by Judge Illston that was ultimately overturned by the Supreme Court.Trump's Shutdown-Linked Layoffs Paused by California Judge (4)The 2026 U.S. law school admissions cycle is off to an intense start, with applications up 33% compared to this time last year, according to new data from the Law School Admission Council. This surge follows last year's admissions boom and signals another highly competitive year for aspiring law students. Admissions consultant Mike Spivey noted he's never seen such a sharp early increase in over two decades of reviewing application data, predicting a likely total rise of around 20% once the cycle concludes.Several factors are driving the spike, including a tough job market for recent college graduates—whose unemployment rate now surpasses that of the broader labor force—and growing political instability. Law School Admission Council President Sudha Setty also cited concerns about the impact of AI and broader economic uncertainty as motivators for many applicants. Additionally, more people are taking the LSAT this year, up nearly 22% over 2025 levels.A recent Kaplan survey found 56% of law school admissions officers pointed to politics as a major factor behind last year's surge, with 90% expecting this cycle to be just as competitive, if not more so. Some applicants are likely reapplying after being rejected last year, or returning after delaying applications due to last year's high volume. While law schools will benefit from a deeper pool of candidates, Spivey warned the sharp increase means tougher odds for acceptance across the board.US law school applicants increase 33%, boosting competition | ReutersPresident Donald Trump's decision to fund military pay during the ongoing government shutdown is only a short-term solution, according to House Speaker Mike Johnson. On Wednesday, Johnson confirmed that 1.3 million active-duty service members, along with tens of thousands of National Guard and reservists, were paid using $6.5 billion in unused military research and development funds. However, he warned that unless Democrats act to reopen the government, troops are unlikely to receive their next paycheck on October 31.The White House has not explained its legal rationale for this funding maneuver, and it hasn't requested the required congressional approvals to shift funds between accounts. Federal law caps such transfers at $8 billion annually and only allows them if the funds are used for their legally designated purposes. Without further funding authority, it's unclear how the administration could cover future military pay. While many lawmakers support a standalone bill to guarantee troop pay, Republican leaders—including Johnson and Senate Majority Whip John Thune—are resisting that option. They argue that doing so would reduce pressure to end the shutdown overall.Some Republicans, like Sen. Lisa Murkowski, say the move has reduced urgency in Congress while leaving other federal workers unpaid. The political optics are further complicated by Trump's claim that only Democrat-backed programs are being cut, as he seeks to frame the issue as partisan. Internally, GOP leaders worry that passing targeted funding bills could open the door to broader demands for agency-by-agency funding relief, weakening their leverage in shutdown negotiations.By way of brief background, the move likely violates the Antideficiency Act (ADA), which bars federal officials from spending money before or beyond congressional appropriations. Trump reportedly ordered the Department of Defense to divert funds from the RDT&E account—meant for weapons research—to cover military payroll. That account is not legally authorized for such use, and the funds may have also exceeded their availability period.This raises two major legal issues. First, under the Appropriations Clause (Article I, § 9, cl. 7), only Congress may authorize government spending. The president cannot repurpose funds without specific legislative approval. Second, the ADA prohibits both misappropriation of purpose (spending money on unauthorized functions) and misappropriation of timing (using expired funds). If proven willful, such violations can carry criminal penalties, though prosecutions are rare.Beyond the legal breach, this act could set a dangerous precedent. If courts decline to intervene, it could signal that future presidents—regardless of party—can redirect federal funds without congressional consent. This would erode legislative power and potentially turn the presidency into a de facto appropriations authority, undermining the Constitution's separation of powers.Special thanks to Bobby Kogan, the Senior Director of Federal Budget Policy for the Center for American Progress, for his instructive Bluesky post explaining the deficiency issue in a way much clearer and more succinctly than I otherwise would have been able to.Trump's troop pay move is a ‘temporary fix,' Johnson says - Live Updates - POLITICOPost by @did:plc:drfb2pdjlnsqkfgsoellcahm — BlueskyA piece I wrote for Forbes this week looks at how Norway is showing the rest of the world how to end EV subsidies without wrecking the market. The country announced in its latest budget that it will phase out its long-standing value-added tax (VAT) exemption for electric vehicles—partially in 2026, and fully by 2027. This might seem like a policy retreat, but the timing is deliberate: EVs now make up 95–98% of new car sales in Norway. The market has matured, and the subsidy is no longer essential.I argue that this is what smart policy looks like—temporary support that steps aside when it's no longer needed. The U.S., by contrast, killed its federal EV tax credit abruptly and politically, without phasing it out or adapting it for current market conditions. In doing so, it treated the credit as a political symbol rather than a market tool. Norway, on the other hand, used the exemption strategically, aligning it with broader policy goals and allowing it to sunset once those goals were met.The piece highlights how the U.S. often fears both removing and maintaining subsidies, caught in a cycle where incentives become political footballs. Norway's approach offers a model for how to responsibly end subsidies: gradually, rationally, and only once the market no longer needs them. This isn't anti-EV or anti-climate policy—it's a sign that the original policy worked.Norway Shows How To End EV Subsidies Without Killing The Market This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.minimumcomp.com/subscribe

At the EUVC Summit 2025, the stage belonged to a voice shaped by geopolitics, defense, and the future of industrial innovation: Sebastian von Ribbentrop, Managing Partner at Join Capital.Sebastian took us on a journey—one that started in Berlin in 2017 with a cornerstone commitment from Eiser Capital, and has since expanded to NATO, Ukraine, and beyond.Not Just Startups. Not Just Capital.Join was born when European engineers left corporates like Siemens and Airbus to build their own ventures—but weren't getting funded.Sebastian and his team stepped in. Today, with 148 LPs (90% from across Europe's industrial heartlands), Join has become a backbone for the builders reimagining enterprise and defense.The paradigm shift became undeniable in 2023, when the NATO Innovation Fund wrote its largest ticket into Join Fund II. It wasn't just capital—it was a mandate to help reshape defense and industrialization.A New Industrial MomentFrom Washington's NATO anniversary to trips into Ukraine, Sebastian's message was clear: the defense supply chain has transformed.It is now:FastTargetedSmartAnd while Europe faces inefficiencies (43 different tanks vs. one Abrams in the U.S.), it also faces a massive market opportunity.Billions at PlayThe scale is unprecedented:€200 billion from Ursula von der Leyen into defense & infrastructure€500+ billion from Germany's new chancellor, Matz$500 billion floated by Trump over the next five yearsThese aren't subsidies—they're revenues. Offset programs that give companies the ability to build products, not just pitch ideas.DARPA, Dual Use & the Technology RaceSebastian reminded the room: shocks create breakthroughs. Sputnik birthed DARPA, which still deploys $4 billion annually into challenges.Now, the race is on—dual-use technology, export restrictions, inexpensive smart radar systems taking down next-gen jets.Europe, he argued, must catch up. But it has the chance to lead.“Geopolitics,” he quoted Kissinger, “is 100% personal.” And Europe must take responsibility—urgently.Leadership With TeethSebastian's talk wasn't about abstractions. It was about:How wars reshape supply chains overnightHow NATO's backing changes venture capitalHow Europe can seize its industrial and defense momentBecause leadership in this decade won't be written in press releases. It will be written in supply chains, radar systems, and the speed of capital deployment.Congratulations to Sebastian von Ribbentrop and Join Capital—for reminding the ecosystem that industrial innovation isn't just defense spending. It's Europe's opportunity to lead in a world being reshaped, fast.

rWotD Episode 3014: General Government administration Welcome to random Wiki of the Day, your journey through Wikipedia's vast and varied content, one random article at a time.The random article for Monday, 4 August 2025, is General Government administration.The General Government administration (German: Generalgouvernement für die besetzten polnischen Gebiete, lit. 'General Government for the occupied Polish areas'), a government and administration of the General Government set up on part of that area of the Second Republic of Poland under Nazi German rule, operated during World War II between 1939 and early 1945. The Third Reich formed the General Government in October 1939 in the wake of the German and Soviet claim that the Polish state had totally collapsed following the invasion of Poland in September–October 1939. The German Wehrmacht had attacked Poland with strong air-power and with massive numbers of troops and tanks on 1 September 1939. The Germans' initial intent was to clear the western part of Poland, the Reichsgau Wartheland, and to bring it into the "Greater German Reich". However, those plans quickly stalled. On 23 August 1939, German foreign-minister Joachim von Ribbentrop and his Soviet counterpart had agreed to a non-aggression pact and had demarcated their respective countries' "spheres of influence" in Poland.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:44 UTC on Monday, 4 August 2025.For the full current version of the article, see General Government administration on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm generative Olivia.

In this episode, Andreas Munk Holm, Dr. Daniel Carew, and Sebastian von Ribbentrop discuss the critical importance of defense and strategic technologies in Europe. They explore Join Capital's investment thesis, the complexities of dual-use technology, and the intersection of technology, defense, and geopolitics. The conversation also touches on the impact of the Ukraine conflict on European defense strategies and the evolving landscape of venture capital investment in this sector.Here's what's covered:18:55 The Evolution of Join Capital's Investment Thesis24:01 Understanding Dual-Use Technology in Defense28:49 Navigating the Commercial and Defense Markets34:01 The Role of Geopolitics in Defense Investments38:09 Geopolitics and Personal Connections41:29 Complexity of European Defense and Innovation45:10 The Shift in Global Power Dynamics48:06 Defense Washing vs. Genuine Innovation52:55 Investment Strategies in a Changing Landscape59:47 The Future of Defense Post-Ukraine Conflict

PREVIEW: Charles Spicer, "Coffee with Hitler: The Untold Story of the Amateur Spies Who Tried to Civilize Hitler," comments on the strange Anglophile Joachim von Ribbentrop who wined and dined the British elite as German ambassador but then became Hitler's loudest Anglophobe. More later. 1936 LONDON, FAIRBNKS AND SWANSON.

durée : 00:48:10 - Affaires sensibles - par : Fabrice Drouelle, Franck COGNARD - Aujourd'hui dans Affaires Sensibles, le pacte germano-soviétique. Dans la nuit du 23 au 24 août 1939, les ministres des Affaires étrangères de l'Allemagne nazie et de la Russie soviétique, Joachim von Ribbentrop et Viatcheslav Molotov, signent un accord de non-agression entre les deux pays. - réalisé par : David Leprince

PREVIEW: Author Charles Spicer, "Coffee with Hitler," presents the puzzle of Joachim von Ribbentrop, who joined the NSDAP as a prosperous merchant claiming he could charm London, but turned violently anti-English after being mocked by London society. More later. 1939 Ribbentrop arrives in Moscow

#RUSSIA: EU cannot forgo Russian energy. Michael Bernstam, Hoover.  1939 Ribbentrop arrives in Moscow