Podcasts about sino japanese war

Today we have “Battle Hymn of China,” an episode of Words at War. It originally aired on NBC on September 30, 1943. It is based on the book of the same name by Agnes Smedley. The book and radio play offer a firsthand account of Chinese resistance during the Sino-Japanese War.Visit our website at BrickPickleMedia.com/podcasts. Subscribe to the ad-free version at https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/worldwar2radio/subscribe.

The key words to the success of the Chinese communist revolution are luck and violence — at least, that's according to Prof. Frank Dikötter.Continuing from our last episode on Prof. Frank Dikötter's new book, Red Dawn Over China, we trace the origin story of the Chinese Communist Party, and revisit how the CCP went from an obscure, unpopular, intellectual-led political force to take over the whole of mainland China.Prof. Dikötter is the Milias Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution and chair professor of humanities at the University of Hong Kong. He is the most widely read living historian of modern China, with books translated into more than twenty languages. He is the author of The People's Trilogy, which includes Mao's Great Famine (2010), The Tragedy of Liberation (2013), and The Cultural Revolution (2016).We left off our story in 1929 last time, when the Soviet Union launched an oft-forgotten invasion into Manchuria and set the tone of Sino-Soviet relations. In this episode — which has been edited for clarity and brevity — we continue the story from 1929 to 1949, and trace the rise of the CCP through the Long March, the Yan'an period through the Sino-Japanese War, and how CCP emerged victorious in the civil war.The key words we explore are luck and violence. In other words, not your official nationalist communist history from the third “Resolution of the CPC Central Committee on the Major Achievements and Historical Experience of the Party over the Past Century” (emphasis added), but a history of how an incredible willingness to use force against fellow party cadres and civilians combined with extraordinary international luck. Japan, the Soviet Union, and the U.S. propelled the CCP to its self-proclaimed glorious founding of the People's Republic.Enjoy.LeoFor quick navigation to the specific sections:* The Japanese threat kept the Communists alive* Stalin, the great architect of Mao's Chinese communist revolution* How Edgar Snow put Mao on the map* The gift of Manchuria* No Stalin, no MaoBallerina - Yehezkel Raz, Artlist Original MusicPeking Hotel is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Recommended reads* Frank Dikötter, 2026, Red Dawn Over China, Bloomsbury Publishing* Frank Dikötter, 2010, Mao's Great Famine, Bloomsbury Publishing* Frank Dikötter, 2013, The Tragedy of Liberation, Bloomsbury Publishing* Frank Dikötter, 2016, The Cultural Revolution, Bloomsbury Publishing* Paul Hollander, 1981, Political Pilgrims, Oxford University Press* Edgar Snow, 1937, Red Star Over China, Random HouseAbout usThe Peking Hotel podcast and newsletter are digital publications in which Liu He interviews China specialists about their first-hand experiences and observations from decades past. The project grew out of Liu's research at Hoover Institution collecting oral history of China experts living in the U.S. Their stories are a reminder of what China used to be and what it is capable of becoming.We also have a Chinese-language Substack. We hope to publish more conversations like this one, so stay tuned!Shoutout!We would like to say thank-you to our supporters, especially to the following people who referred us to great many friends, colleagues and acquaintances:* China Books Review* Initium* Bill Bishop & Sinocism* Jordan Schneider & ChinaTalk* PC & What's Happening in China* 《人文中国》Humanities China* The Goldkorn Newsletter* 擦星星事务所* 不如读书* Matt Turpin & China Articles* Career China Newsletter* The China Week* The China-MENA NewsletterKudos to you, our network now has more awesome people like yourselves. Please keep spreading the word for us :) I appreciate it.Thanks for reading Peking Hotel! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Peking Hotel at pekinghotel.substack.com/subscribe

Last time we spoke about the battle of West Suiyuan. The Ma Clique, Muslim warlords controlling Northwest China, led by Ma Hongkui and Ma Hongbin, rebuffed Japanese overtures to ally, citing historical grievances like the 1900 invasion. Driven by patriotism, they aligned with the Nationalists, reorganizing forces into the 17th Army Group. In 1938, Ma Hongbin commanded West Suiyuan defenses, building fortifications in harsh desert and mountain terrain, blending cavalry tactics with modern training despite equipment shortages. In January 1940, Japanese and puppet troops advanced from Baotou, occupying Wuyuan and Linhe. Chinese forces, including Fu Zuoyi's 35th Army and Ma's 81st Army, employed guerrilla and mobile warfare. A major counterattack in March recaptured Wuyuan, killing Lt. Gen. Mizukawa and thousands, forcing Japanese retreat. Through ambushes and night raids, the Chinese recovered territories, securing Soviet aid routes and the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia region. Over 2,000 Ningxia soldiers perished, their sacrifices underscoring peripheral fronts' role in national resistance.   #200 The battle of Yaoyi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After capturing Wuhan, the Japanese army had already stretched itself dangerously thin. Most regular and Class A reserve divisions were committed to the front, yet they failed to annihilate the main Chinese force. Despite losing its core industrial and resource regions, the Nationalist government in Chongqing refused Japan's peace terms. Japan now found itself trapped in the very protracted war it had desperately sought to avoid. The logical Japanese response was to halt major advances, consolidate control over occupied areas, and conduct limited offensives to pressure Chiang Kai-shek into negotiations—essentially repeating the post-Nanjing strategy of late 1937. But the situation had deteriorated sharply: occupied territory had at least doubled, Japanese garrisons were inadequate, and strategic reserves were nearly exhausted. What might have been prudent a year earlier had become plainly unwise by late 1938.   To stabilize the front, Japan reorganized its China Expeditionary Army at the end of 1938. Large numbers of newly raised independent mixed brigades and lower-quality Class B reserve divisions were sent to relieve veteran regular and Class A divisions. The relieved units were either demobilized back to Japan or shifted north to reinforce the Kwantung Army against the Soviet threat.   By early 1940 Japan maintained roughly 24 divisions, 21 independent mixed brigades, and 2 cavalry brigades in China proper (excluding Manchuria), totaling nearly 800,000 ground troops. The enormous scale and expense strained the home economy severely. Even so, the vast occupied zones could not be effectively controlled: divisions often held only a single mobile battalion while dispersing the rest into scattered platoon- and squad-sized outposts. Guerrilla activity by both Nationalist and Communist forces not only persisted but intensified, occasionally clashing with each other in "friction" incidents.   Beyond mere occupation, Japan sought to wear down Chinese strength. With most elite Central Army units held in reserve in the southwest or around Wuhan, Japanese local offensives targeted the Fifth and Ninth War Zones, aiming to methodically destroy Chiang's best troops. Thus, while other Japanese armies focused on garrison relief and brigade substitution, the 11th Army—still holding Wuhan with seven divisions and three brigades—remained the main offensive instrument. In 1939 it captured Nanchang, then mounted major operations against the Fifth War Zone (Suizao Campaign) and Ninth War Zone (First Battle of Changsha). Except for the seizure of Nanchang, however, these offensives inflicted only limited and temporary damage on Chinese forces.   Japan's domestic economy was in even worse shape. In early 1937, it had approved a massive 2.4 billion yen naval and army rebuilding program aimed at countering the United States and Russia, but implementation had barely started when the Sino-Japanese War erupted. The conflict generated enormous war costs while military expansion continued unabated, rapidly draining the Bank of Japan's gold reserves. By the end of 1938, those reserves (valued at just 1.35 billion yen) had shrunk by more than two-thirds. To fund the Battle of Wuhan that year, Japan postponed key elements of the rebuilding plan. After Wuhan fell, the Army revised its wartime reorganization: the original target of forty divisions grew to fifty-five by early 1938, then to sixty-five divisions plus 164 Army Air Force squadrons by 1942. The funding required to equip and stockpile for this expansion escalated steadily; the 1939 expansion budget alone demanded 1.8 billion yen, pushing Japanese finances to the breaking point.   Japan repeatedly sought a way out of China, but its peace terms remained far beyond what Chongqing would accept, leaving negotiations stalled. Efforts to install puppet regimes in North and Central China—culminating in the Wang Jingwei government in 1940—aimed to "use Chinese to control Chinese" and undermine Nationalist influence, yet produced disappointing results.   The 11th Army's 1939 campaigns yielded only mediocre outcomes, hampered by chronic troop shortages. Even its divisions were tied down in occupation duties; mounting a serious offensive required pulling garrison forces, leaving no reserves to hold the line unless new units arrived. Sustained large-scale operations to seriously weaken Chinese strength demanded a major troop increase—otherwise, Japan was limited to shallow, localized attacks. Lt. Gen. Yasuji Okamura, commanding the 11th Army, recognized this clearly. In a December 1939 report, he argued that diplomacy and small offensives were futile and urged a large-scale operation backed by substantial reinforcements. His superiors, however, were preoccupied with funding the broader military buildup and could offer no extra men. The post-Wuhan "defensiveization" of operations was largely a cost-saving measure to support that expansion. Japanese ground strength in China, which peaked near 850,000 after Wuhan, had already dropped by about 50,000. Full-strength regular or Class A divisions numbered roughly 22,000 men (four regiments), while newer garrison divisions had only about 15,000 (three regiments), and independent mixed brigades just 6,000. Okamura's proposal was sensible but politically impossible; high command was even contemplating slashing China troop levels to 400,000.   The Chinese Winter Offensive of December 1939, together with counterattacks at Nanning and Kunlun Pass, inflicted serious losses and exposed the limited damage done to Chinese forces in 1939 operations. The recapture of Wuyuan in March 1940 signaled the start of a new phase. Shortly afterward, intensified Chinese guerrilla raids deep into Japanese rear areas prompted large Japanese "mop-up" operations in southern Shanxi, central Hubei, southern Jiangxi, and northern Hunan. In the Wuhan sector, repeated blows from the Winter Offensive heightened fears of Chinese forces in the Dahong and Tongbai Mountains, which threatened control over the vital Jianghan Plains rice-producing region. In mid-April 1940, the Japanese abandoned outposts at Macheng (eastern Hubei), Fengxin, and Jing'an (northern Jiangxi), withdrew elements of the 6th Division (northern Hunan), 40th Division (northern Jiangxi), and the 3rd, 13th, and 39th Divisions (Hubei), and concentrated them around Zhongxiang, Suixian, and Xinyang for a maximum-effort push.   These setbacks finally forced Tokyo to abandon deep troop reductions in China and approve reinforcements of two regular divisions for a major 1940 offensive. The revised end-1940 target became 740,000 troops in China. In spring 1940, the 11th Army—backed fully by Imperial General Headquarters and the China Expeditionary Army—began detailed preparations for a large-scale assault on China's Fifth War Zone.   On February 25, 1940, the 11th Army issued its "Guiding Strategy for the Campaign." The operational goal was to defeat the main force of China's Fifth War Zone along both banks of the Han River before the rainy season, inflict further heavy losses on Chiang Kai-shek's army through decisive victory, and thereby advance Japan's overall political and strategic position vis-à-vis China. The guiding principle called for the quickest possible preparations, with the offensive to begin around early May: first destroy Chinese forces on the left (east) bank south of the Baihe River, then completely annihilate the core units on the right (west) bank near Yichang. On April 7, under the new commander Lt. Gen. Sonobe Kazuo (who replaced Okamura Yasuji), the 11th Army produced a more detailed plan. On April 10, Imperial General Headquarters Order No. 426 ("Continental Order") authorized the China Expeditionary Army to conduct operations in central and southern China during May–June, even beyond established boundaries, to fulfill current objectives.   Japanese planners viewed the Fifth War Zone—roughly 50 divisions encircling Wuhan—with its main strength concentrated along the Han (Xiang) River in northwestern Hubei. Striking Yichang would deliver a severe blow to the zone. As the gateway to Sichuan, only 480 km from Chongqing, Yichang held immense strategic value: an inland port, Three Gorges logistics hub, and key base for air raids on Chongqing. Capturing it would directly threaten the Nationalist wartime capital and southwestern rear, advancing political leverage. Still, long-term occupation was not pre-decided; initial plans stressed inflicting maximum damage followed by withdrawal, in line with the post-Wuhan policy of avoiding permanent overextension. China, aware that holding the Jianghan Plain's rice-producing areas enabled sustained attrition against Japan, deployed guerrilla units to harass Japanese rear areas (increasing occupier losses) while tasking the River Defense Force to hold key front-line points: Jingmen, Shashi, and Yichang.   To achieve these aims, the 11th Army committed as much as possible of its seven divisions and four brigades (88 battalions total). Core units included the 3rd Division (Maj. Gen. Yamakoshi Masataka; regiments 6, 18, 34, 68), 13th Division (Maj. Gen. Tanaka Shioichi; 58, 65, 104, 116), 39th Division (Maj. Gen. Murakami Keisaku; 231–233), elements of the 40th Division, detachments from the 33rd and 34th Divisions, and others. Reinforcements comprised the Ikeda Detachment (three battalions from 6th Division), Ishimoto Detachment (four–five from 40th), Ogawa Detachment (two from 34th), and Provisional Mixed Brigade 101. Supporting assets included the 6th Field Heavy Artillery Regiment, 7th and 13th Tank Regiments, 3rd Air Group, Navy 1st China Dispatch Fleet, and 2nd Combined Air Team. The China Expeditionary Army transferred seven battalions from the 15th and 22nd Divisions (13th Army, lower Yangtze). The main effort north of the river involved roughly 48–54 battalions, or 80,000–110,000 men, making the Zaoyi (Zaoyang–Yichang) Campaign the largest Japanese operation on the central front since Wuhan. Sonobe's staff structured the offensive in two phases. Phase One targeted the Fifth War Zone's main force around Zaoyang (east of the Han River) through converging pincer movements: right flank from Xinyang (reinforced 3rd Division), left flank from Zhongxiang (reinforced 13th Division), and central thrust by the reinforced 39th Division from Suixian. The plan exploited terrain—Dahong and Tongbai Mountains—for encirclement. After seizing Minggang (right flank) and advancing from Zhongxiang (left), the pincers would close on Zaoyang, with the center (along the Xianghua Highway from Suixian) drawing Chinese forces into the trap for envelopment. Diversionary attacks south of the Yangtze, propaganda hinting at limited scope, and planted false orders helped mask intentions. Japanese radio intelligence—intercepts and direction-finding of Chinese headquarters signals—provided critical advantages, especially in later stages.   By March 1940, Chinese intelligence had already detected the 11th Army's intent to mount a major offensive from Xinyang and Wuhan into northwestern Hubei. On April 10, Chiang Kai-shek telegraphed Li Zongren and other Fifth War Zone commanders, urging immediate preparations for a preemptive strike against any push toward Shapingba and Yichang. He emphasized proactive flanking attacks on Japanese rear areas via Wusheng Pass and threats to the Pinghan Railway, while keeping main forces east of the Han River for decisive engagement once the enemy committed.   Following Military Commission directives, the Fifth War Zone devised a plan that used part of its strength for forward advances and deep raids into Japanese rear areas to harass and divert. The bulk of forces would hold the rear, seizing chances for preemptive strikes and a decisive battle east of Zaoyang or south of Jingmen–Dangyang. Deployments included: the 33rd Army Group garrisoning the Xiang River; in the center, the 45th Corps (22nd Army Group) west of Luoyangdian–Suixian and the 84th Corps (11th Army Group) north of Suixian–south of Gaocheng; in southern Henan, the 30th Corps east of Tongbai and the 68th Corps north of Pingchangguan–Minggang; the 41st Corps in reserve near Xiangyang; the 29th Army Group (with part garrisoning north of Tongqiao Zhen–Sanyangtien) concentrated in the Dahong Mountains; and the 31st Army Group positioned between Queshan and Ye Hsien as the mobile force to strike invaders. River Defense Army commander Guo Chan controlled the 26th, 75th, and 94th Armies, the 128th Division, and the 6th and 7th Guerrilla Columns. Total Chinese strength approximated 350,000–380,000 men across roughly 50–54 divisions. To mask preparations and mislead, the Japanese conducted a late-April "mop-up" near Jiujiang, staged naval feints on Poyang and Dongting Lakes, and bombed key points in Hunan and Jiangxi, simulating an imminent Ninth War Zone operation.   With forces assembled, the Japanese offensive began May 1, 1940, from Xinyang, Suixian, and Zhongxiang. The advance split into five routes: (1) Changtaiguan–Minggang–Biyang–Tanghe; (2) Xinyang–Tongbai; (3) Suixian–Zaoyang; (4) Suixian–Wujiadien; (5) Zhongxiang–Shuangkou. Employing flanking with central breakthrough, the reinforced 3rd Division (right flank, including Ishimoto Detachment from 40th Division with tanks and engineers) spearheaded from Xinyang toward Biyang, breaching the Chinese Second Army front on day one. By May 1, elements of the 3rd and 40th Divisions captured Minggang, Lion's Bridge, and Xiaolintien; on May 5 they took Biyang and Tongbai. The Chinese 31st Army Group (northeast of Biyang) linked with the 68th and 92nd Corps to hit Japanese flanks and rear. Leaving some forces west of Tongbai to press the enemy, the main 30th Corps struck Japanese flanks. After seizing Tanghe on May 7, the Japanese pushed south toward Zaoyang. On May 8–9, the 31st Army Group retook Tanghe and Xinye, pursuing vigorously. On May 8, the Japanese left flank (13th Division) attacked from Zhongxiang, breaking through the 33rd Army front the same day.   On May 3, the Japanese 13th Division—supported by over 20 tanks, 40 aircraft, artillery, and cavalry—advanced north from Zhongxiang, capturing Changshoudian and Tianjiachi. It seized Fengyao and Changjiachi by May 6. Chinese 33rd Army Group forces used favorable terrain to intercept, while the 29th Army Group struck Japanese flanks and rear at Changjiachi and Wangjiadian, and the 41st Corps fought tenaciously to halt the advance. By May 7, Japanese spearheads reached Changjiachi on the Zaoyang–Xiangyang Highway, with elements entering Shuangkou; their rear cavalry took Xinye on May 8. Fifth War Zone commander Zhang Zizhong personally led attacks along Tianjiachi–Huanglongtang, supported by fierce 29th Army Group assaults on Japanese rear.   The Japanese 39th Division and a 6th Division brigade delayed their assault on the Chinese 11th Army Group until May 4 from Suixian. After overrunning Gaocheng and Anchu on May 5, Chinese forces withdrew to Huantan–Tang Hsien–north of Gaocheng. As the 33rd Army Group faltered, part of the 11th Army Group reinforced it; the 175th Division held at Tang Hsien while the main body fell back toward Zaoyang. During the maneuver, Japanese tanks enveloped at Tang Hsien, cutting the Zaoyang–Xiangyang Highway and forcing bitter fighting by the 174th Division. To break out, Chinese abandoned Zaoyang, using the 173rd Division for rearguard resistance while the bulk shifted west of the Tang and Bai Rivers. Japanese captured Suiyangdian and Wujiadien on May 7, Zaoyang on May 8; the 173rd Division suffered heavy losses, including the death of its commander, Gen. Zhong Yi.   On May 10, Japanese completed an encirclement east of Xiangdong along the Tang and Bai Rivers—but it collapsed as Chinese exterior forces outflanked both Japanese wings and compressed the center, trapping much of the Japanese in the Xiangdong Plains. The Chinese 2nd and 31st Army Groups plus 92nd Corps pressed south, 39th and 75th Corps east, and 33rd and 29th Army Groups north against the pocket. The 94th Corps advanced along the Han–Yichang Highway deep into Jingshan, Zaoshi, Yingcheng, and Yunmeng to sever Japanese rear communications. Meanwhile, the 7th Corps and eastern Hubei guerrillas seized Jigong Shan, Lijiachai, and Liulin station on the Beijing–Hankou Railway. The 92nd and 68th Corps retook Zaoyang, Tongbai, and Minggang, encircling four Japanese divisions in the Xiangdong Plains. By May 11, battered Japanese retreated eastward under pursuit, Chinese flanking and rear attacks leaving many dead on the field. The 31st Army Group recovered Zaoyang on May 16. Chinese reports claimed 45,000 Japanese casualties, plus capture of over 60 guns, 2,000+ horses, 70+ tanks, and 400+ trucks. The 33rd Army Group fought fiercely to intercept retreating columns, driving large Japanese remnants toward Nanguadian.   Tragically, on May 16 noon, Gen. Zhang Zizhong—personally commanding his Guard Battalion and main 74th Division—was killed in action. With pressure eased on the Japanese left, they counterattacked and retook Zaoyang on May 17. Chinese forces withdrew to Xinye on the Tangbai River's west bank and north of the Tang River, regrouping for a renewed counteroffensive.   The Military Commission anticipated a Japanese withdrawal to original lines, likely along the rain-impassable Xianghua Road. Exploiting the enemy's supply shortages, exhaustion, and retreat difficulties, it ordered Fifth War Zone units to encircle and annihilate Japanese forces near the battlefield, then pursue toward Yingcheng–Huayuan. The zone promptly launched a counteroffensive. By nightfall on May 8, Japanese pincers neared junction, having inflicted serious damage on the Chinese 84th Army but achieved little else. Nonetheless, the 11th Army ordered frontline divisions to withdraw to the Tanghe–Baihe line after reaching it, preparatory to encircling Chinese forces west of the Han River. Chongqing issued general offensive orders at 8 PM and 11 PM that night. By then, six divisions of the 31st Army Group advanced south from Nanyang in the north, five from the 33rd Army Group pressed from the south, and five from the 45th and 94th Armies pursued in the southeast—nearly completing the Japanese encirclement. Intense combat erupted.   On May 10, retreating Japanese first clashed with the advancing 33rd Army Group from the south. Seizing the moment, they ordered the 13th and 39th Divisions plus Ikeda Detachment south to smash it, with the 3rd Division covering the northern flank. Full-scale battle broke out on May 12: two Japanese divisions assaulted five Chinese divisions of the 33rd Army Group, plunging them into desperate fighting. Japanese radio intercepts—including telegrams between the Military Commission and Fifth War Zone, plus Zhang Zizhong's report to Chiang on his five divisions' movements—revealed exact positions and plans. Sonobe Kazuo concentrated the 13th and 39th Divisions to strike south along the Han's east bank against Zhang's army group, while ordering the 3rd Division (south of Xinye) back to Zaoyang to guard the rear. Direction-finding had long pinpointed the 33rd Army Group headquarters radio (call signs and bearings) about 10 km northeast of Yicheng. With air support, the Japanese encircled it. On the night of May 15, the 39th Division advanced from Fangjiaji and Nanying toward Nanguadian, completing tactical encirclement by dawn on May 16. Artillery-supported four-sided assaults followed. The defending 74th Division resisted fiercely with repeated counterattacks. Fighting raged into the afternoon, with the Special Service Battalion joining. Japanese attackers swelled to over 5,000, backed by concentrated artillery and 20+ aircraft for a final push. Zhang Zizhong, wounded multiple times, continued commanding calmly until a severe chest wound killed him heroically. The exhausted, isolated 74th Division and battalion suffered devastating losses. That day, the 13th Division also routed the main 33rd Army Group force, breaking the southern encirclement. Japanese then redeployed, concentrating around Zaoyang.   In the north, 17 divisions (including six from the 31st Army Group) attacked the isolated Japanese 3rd Division from east, south, and north, severing its supply lines. With limited ammunition and no resupply, the division faced crisis; its 29th Brigade telegram pleaded: "Enemy fighting spirit extremely high... safe return very difficult; request battalion reinforcements." Yet southern Chinese forces remained undestroyed amid chaos. Japanese choices narrowed to independent 3rd Division retreat or holding for relief. They opted to lure pursuers: ordering the division southeast toward Zaoyang to draw Chinese into pursuit. From May 16–18, the 3rd Division fought a delaying retreat; relentless Chinese pursuit inflicted limited damage due to insufficient firepower, allowing escape. By evening May 18, it reached northeast of Zaoyang and prepared offensives. The 13th and 39th Divisions, after defeating the 33rd Army Group, also advanced north to the Zaoyang line.   The 3rd Division's retreat shortened Japanese lines and hastened convergence. Unsuspecting Chinese pursued to Zaoyang. After a successful counterattack northeast of Yicheng, the 13th and 39th Divisions rejoined the 3rd Division there. On May 19 morning, three Japanese divisions attacked abreast, forcing decisive battle along the Tang River. Chinese divisions collapsed within hours; the 75th Army took heavy losses, others significant casualties. Fifth War Zone ordered hasty retreat. Japanese pursued vigorously. By May 21, the 3rd Division reached Dengxian, 13th east of Laohekou, 39th Fancheng. Early that day, the 39th Division—crossing the Baihe—met fierce west-bank fire, losing Regiment Commander Kanzaki Tetsujiro and over 300 men. That evening, the 11th Army halted pursuit, ending east-bank (Xiang River) fighting. The 20+ day operation east of the Han inflicted heavy Japanese losses, far exceeding the planned duration, leaving troops exhausted. After halting, units withdrew to Zaoyang vicinity for rest and reorganization rather than immediate return to base positions. Commanders debated proceeding to Yichang west of the Han: abandoning the plan would signal Phase One failure, eroding authority and imperial trust. Most argued troop fatigue and casualties should not deter continuation. Over 1,000 tons of supplies rushed forward via six motor companies. Following east-bank termination, Japanese consolidated for the next phase targeting Yichang. Reinforcements arrived: the 4th Division from Manchuria and 18th Independent Brigade from Wuning. The 4th Division assumed Shayang–Zhongxiang positions east of the Xiang River.   The Japanese bombarded the west bank of the Han River for ninety minutes before forcing a crossing at Wangji north of Yicheng. That midnight, the 3rd Division also crossed southeast of Xiangyang. Both met little resistance and completed crossings before dawn. The 11th Army left the 40th Division at Dahongshan for rear-area mopping-up and assigned the Xiaochuan and Cangqiao Detachments to guard mobile supply depots. On May 31 night, the 3rd and 39th Divisions crossed the Xiang River at Yicheng and Oujiamiao. After seizing Xiangyang on June 1 night, the main force split into columns crossing westward. By June 3, Japanese captured Nanzhang and Yicheng. The Chinese 41st Corps fiercely counterattacked, retaking part of Xiangyang while its main body battled around Nanzhang; the 77th Corps also struck hard. On June 4, Chinese recovered Nanzhang, forcing Japanese retreat southward. Meanwhile, the 13th Division and elements of the 6th Division forced a crossing on the Han–Yichang Highway near Jiukou and Shayang to link with southern columns for a joint push. The Chinese River Defense Force shifted its main strength to key positions, using terrain to block southward advances. The 2nd and 31st Army Groups pursued south separately. Chinese abandoned Shayang on June 5; Japanese took Jingmen, Shilipu, and Shihujiao on June 6. The 77th Corps and river defense units resisted stubbornly from Jingmen to Jiangling. After retaking Yicheng, the 2nd Army Group continued pursuit. Japanese concentrated around Jingmen–Shilipu as Jiangling fell.   On June 9 morning, Japanese launched joint air-ground assaults from Dongshi to Dangyang and Yuanan. By afternoon, penetrating the Chinese right flank forced a night withdrawal to Gulaobei–Shuanlianshi–Dangyang along the Zu River to Yuanan. June 10 saw Japanese capture Gulaobei and Dangyang, pushing Chinese to Yichang outskirts. After days of heavy fighting and prohibitive losses, Chinese abandoned Yichang on their own initiative. The 2nd and 31st Army Groups then reached Dangyang north of Jingmen. On June 16, they mounted a general offensive. By June 17, Chinese briefly retook Yichang; the 2nd Army Group linked with the 77th Corps against Dangyang, while the 31st Army Group severed Dangyang–Jingmen communications and assaulted Jingmen violently. South of the Yangtze, the 5th and 32nd Divisions crossed to hit Shayang and Shilipu. By June 18, Japanese main force held stubbornly from Dangyang to the Xiang River with superior equipment. Chinese, fighting on exterior lines, formed an encirclement from Jiangling–Yichang–Dangyang–Zhongxiang–Suixian–north of Xinyang while maintaining surveillance. Thus, the Zaoyi (Zaoyang–Yichang) Campaign ended. No prior decision existed on holding Yichang long-term. Per post-Wuhan Imperial General Headquarters policy, even extended operations aimed only to inflict severe blows and erode Chinese resistance, not expand occupation. On capture day, the 11th Army declared objectives achieved, ordering reorganization, destruction of Yichang military facilities, and dumping irremovable captured supplies into the Yangtze preparatory to withdrawal. At 10 PM June 15, formal orders withdrew to the Han's east bank: 3rd and 39th Divisions first to Dangyang–Jingmen to cover, then the 13th Division. The 13th began retreating from Yichang at midnight June 16, reaching Tumenya (10 km east) by 7 AM June 17. Chinese counterattacked along the route; the 18th Army pursued and retook Yichang morning of June 17. Japanese held Yichang only four days.   Intense debate erupted between frontline commanders and Imperial General Headquarters over retaining Yichang. With Nazi Germany's Western Europe offensive underway—Paris fell June 12, the day Yichang was taken—global upheaval intensified Japanese urgency to resolve China swiftly and free resources for wider competition. Many in high command and China Expeditionary Army argued long-term occupation would threaten Chongqing more directly, aid political maneuvers, and hasten settlement, offering immense strategic value. This swayed the Emperor, who inquired at the June 15 Imperial Conference about securing it. Backed by imperial support, high command ordered temporary retention (one month) on June 16. By transmission through Expeditionary Army and 11th Army channels, the rearguard 13th Division had withdrawn 52 km. With 3rd Division cooperation, it reversed, broke Chinese resistance, and retook Yichang afternoon June 17. On July 1, to offset expanded 11th Army responsibilities, General Headquarters transferred the 4th Division from Kwantung Army (Jiamusi, Heilongjiang) to 11th Army control. July 13 orders confirmed long-term Yichang retention, redefining Wuhan-region operations to Anqing–Xinyang–Yichang–Yueyang–Nanchang. The 11th Army assigned: 13th Division to Yichang, 4th Division to Anlu, 18th Independent Mixed Brigade east/west of Dangyang; remaining units returned to original defenses.   Post-recapture, Chinese continued counterattacks on Yichang and rear lines until ordered to halt: "To adapt to international changes, preserve National Army combat strength, and facilitate reorganization, Fifth War Zone cease attacks on Yichang immediately." A stalemate followed along lines encircling Yichang, Dangyang, Jiangling, Jingmen, Zhongxiang, Suixian, and Xinyang. To shield Chongqing and Sichuan, Nationalists re-established the Sixth War Zone (briefly created post-First Changsha, abolished April 1940), appointing Chen Cheng commander-in-chief with 33rd and 29th Army Groups, River Defense Army, and 18th Army covering western Hubei, western Hunan, eastern Sichuan. The Zaoyi campaign thus concluded. Japanese combat power again proved markedly superior. Official Japanese records (11th Army/China Expeditionary Army) reported 2,700 killed, ~7,800 wounded (total ~10,500; some phases ~1,403 killed/4,639 wounded). Chinese admitted heavy losses: 36,983 killed, 50,509 wounded, 23,000 missing (total >110,000 in some accounts). Wartime Nationalist claims inflated Japanese casualties to 45,000 killed/wounded with major captures (60+ guns, 70+ tanks, 400+ trucks), likely propagandistic; Japanese sources show far lower equipment losses. With 56 battalions deployed, Japanese suffered 12–15% combat casualties; Chinese (54 divisions, ~380,000 men) incurred 25–30% or higher—underscoring firepower/equipment disparity. Japan achieved tactical success by securing Yichang long-term (as a Chongqing bombing base) but failed to annihilate the main Chinese force or compel peace. Chinese resistance thwarted full encirclement and imposed attrition, albeit at crippling cost to the Fifth War Zone—severely weakened and never fully recovering until war's end. Japanese aims were realized to a significant, though not decisive, degree.   The Fifth War Zone's operational plan was fundamentally sound. Chinese intelligence detected Japanese intentions early, accurately predicted the attack axis, and deployed accordingly. The plan included preemptive strikes at Wusheng Pass and the Guangshui section of the Pinghan Railway to harass Japanese rear areas, threaten Wuhan, gather reconnaissance, and disrupt enemy preparations. Though well conceived, these actions never materialized. In the first phase (Xiangdong operations), Chinese forces resisted while shifting the main body to outer lines, securing mobile flanking positions. This frustrated Japanese encirclement efforts in the Xiangdong Plains. Exploiting the enemy's retreat, China launched a timely counteroffensive that encircled the Japanese 3rd Division. Despite breakout support from over 100 aircraft and 200 tanks, the poorly equipped Chinese inflicted heavy casualties during the three-day siege, blunting the division's momentum.    On the southern front, the 33rd Army Group's intercepting deployment was appropriate, but insufficient strength and compromised communications allowed the Japanese 13th and 39th Divisions to counterattack decisively, inflicting major losses and claiming the heroic death of Commander-in-Chief Zhang Zizhong—whose steadfast patriotism remains a lasting source of national pride. Overall, Chinese assessments and deployments in Phase One were largely correct. The battlefield showed China retained initiative and was not wholly dominated by Japanese plans. The core issue was overestimation of Chinese combat power amid severe shortages of heavy weapons. At least three corps suffered heavy attrition, yet Japanese captured only twenty-three mountain/field guns. Relying on manpower for brute force left Chinese units critically undergunned, enabling repeated encirclement attempts but preventing decisive destruction or severe damage to encircled enemies like the 3rd Division.   Phase Two, by contrast, was entirely passive. The initial Japanese Han River crossings were largely feints, yet the west bank received scant attention in overall planning—leaving Yichang virtually undefended as main forces deployed east of the river. Post-Phase One, Japan reinforced the 11th Army with three infantry battalions and one mountain artillery battalion from the 13th Army (lower Yangtze), plus six motor transport companies rushing massive supplies forward. Chinese intelligence missed these moves, remaining complacent in expectation of Japanese withdrawal eastward. After regrouping, Japan abruptly pivoted west with rapid advances. The Military Commission and Fifth War Zone, caught unprepared, made frantic, chaotic adjustments that failed to mount effective defense. The loss of strategically vital Yichang was inevitable, complicating the resistance both militarily and psychologically. This stemmed directly from command misjudgment of Japanese strategic and operational aims. Had plans anticipated a westward thrust and retained strong reserves—or detected the 10-day regrouping window to readjust deployments—China could have retained greater initiative, inflicted more damage, and reduced its own losses.   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. Japan's 11th Army launched an offensive in Hubei to encircle Chinese forces in the Fifth War Zone and seize Yichang for bombing Chongqing. Chinese troops countered effectively, encircling Japanese divisions and inflicting heavy losses, though General Zhang Zizhong was killed in action. After intense fighting east of the Han River, Japanese crossed west, captured Yichang, briefly withdrew, then retook and held it long-term. 

  Last time we spoke about the battle of south Guangxi. In late 1939, amid the Sino-Japanese War stalemate, Japan aimed to sever China's vital supply lines from French Indochina by invading southern Guangxi. The 21st Army, including the 5th Division and Taiwan Mixed Brigade landed at Qinzhou Bay on November 15, capturing Nanning by November 24 after feinting at Beihai and overcoming scattered Chinese defenses under the 16th Army Group. Chinese forces, commanded by Bai Chongxi and reinforced by the elite 5th Army launched a counteroffensive in December. The brutal Battle of Kunlun Pass saw repeated assaults. However, Japanese counterattacks in January 1940, bolstered by the 18th Division and Konoye Brigade, recaptured Kunlun Pass and Binyang by February, inflicting over 10,000 Chinese losses and forcing retreats. A stalemate ensued until September 1940, when Japan pressured Indochina. Overextended Japanese forces withdrew south, allowing Chinese to recapture Nanning on October 30 and clear Guangxi by November 17.   #199 The battle of West Suiyuan  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. Back in 1936,  the Xi'an Incident had forced a fragile alliance between the Nationalists under Chiang Kai-shek and the Communists, forming a united front against Japan. This front extended to regional warlords like the Ma Clique, who controlled Ningxia, Gansu, and Qinghai. The Ma family, descendants of Muslim generals loyal to the Qing Dynasty, navigated complex loyalties but ultimately aligned with the Nationalist cause, driven by patriotism and self-preservation.   The stakes in West Suiyuan were high. Control of the region meant access to the Suiyuan-Xinjiang Highway, a lifeline for Soviet aid to China. Japanese occupation could threaten the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Border Region, a Communist stronghold, and open paths to Lanzhou and beyond. The battles here, though overshadowed by larger theaters like Shanghai or Wuhan, demonstrated how peripheral fronts contributed to the national resistance. Over 70 years later, the sacrifices of more than 2,000 Ningxia soldiers remain a poignant reminder of the human cost of resistance, their anti-Japanese merits etched forever in the annals of Chinese history.   The seeds of the Battle of West Suiyuan were sown in the turbulent years following the Xi'an Incident. This event in December 1936 led to the initial formation of a national united front against Japanese aggression. The Communist Party of China (CPC) mobilized masses in the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Border Region, strengthening anti-Japanese forces and exerting pressure on the Ma Clique. Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist government also influenced the Mas, solidifying their resolve to resist Japan.   The Ma Clique, a powerful Muslim warlord faction in Northwest China, was led by figures like Ma Hongkui (governor of Ningxia) and his cousin Ma Hongbin. They controlled a semi-autonomous region with a mix of Hui, Han, and Mongolian populations. Japan, seeking to exploit ethnic divisions, attempted to woo the Mas. Even after the July 7, 1937, outbreak of war, Japan persisted. On October 17, 1937, after occupying Baotou, the Japanese established the "Baotou Hui Muslim Branch" and appointed Jiang Wenhuan, a former Hui commander, to court Ma Hongkui. They sent envoys, including an imam from Northeast China, and even airdropped letters from "Manchukuo." In a dramatic move, Japanese commander Itagaki Seishiro flew to Alashan Banner to invite Ma Hongkui for talks. Ma sent Zhou Baihuang, who rebuffed Itagaki by invoking historical grievances: the Japanese role in the Eight-Nation Alliance's 1900 invasion, where Ma family members died at Zhengyang Gate. "The family feud remains unresolved, and the national humiliation is yet to be avenged; they are irreconcilable enemies," Zhou declared.   Japan's plot to persuade surrender failed, leading to a major offensive against Suiyuan and Ningxia. Large numbers of troops reinforced Baotou, and bombings targeted Ningxia. In response, Ma Hongkui began building fortifications in places like Shizuishan and Dengkou. Starting in the winter of 1937, he constructed defense fortifications in the Shizuishan area in four phases. In the Shizuishan Weizha area, trenches several meters wide and deep were dug, covered with branches, straw, and loose soil for camouflage, to prevent the passage of Japanese armored vehicles and heavy weapons. Within a hundred li north of Dengkou and Sanshenggong, all major roads were cut off, and deep trenches were dug to destroy the Japanese army's access to Ningxia. The banks of the Yellow River ferry crossings in northern Ningxia and the Helan Mountain passages were all cut into steep cliffs. Important passageways were fortified with blocking positions and hidden artillery to repel invading Japanese troops.   Among the various military commanders in Northwest China, Ma Hongbin possessed the strongest anti-Japanese spirit. Having joined the army at a young age, Ma Hongbin placed great emphasis on cultural learning and the cultivation of his personal character. Outside of military service, he was always seen with a book in hand, resembling a scholar. His long-term study fostered his upright character and patriotism. After the Japanese invasion of China, deeply moved by the nation's peril, he resolved to lead his troops to the battlefield to save the country from its crisis. In the spring of 1938, at the opening ceremony of an officer training course held in Wanghongbao, Yongning, Ma Hongbin addressed his subordinates from the podium: "Always remember that the nation comes first, the people come first, defend the land and country, and fulfill your duties. On the battlefield, you must be able to both attack and defend, and be prepared to live and die with the position, with the determination to fight to the end."   The Ma forces were reorganized into the Nationalist structure. Ma Hongkui's 15th Route Army and Ma Hongbin's 35th Division (later expanded to the 81st Army) formed the 17th Army Group, with Ma Hongkui as Commander-in-Chief and Ma Hongbin as Deputy Commander-in-Chief and Commander of the 81st Army. The officer training of the 81st Army improved the anti-Japanese consciousness and combat quality of the entire army, preparing for the counterattack against the Japanese invasion. In May 1938, due to the weakened defenses of Suiyuan (at that time, the troops of Fu Zuoyi, the chairman of Suiyuan Province, had retreated to Shanxi), most of the area was occupied by Japanese and puppet troops. The Kuomintang Central Committee appointed Ma Hongbin as the commander of the Suiyuan West Defense Command. Ma Hongbin led his 81st Army and two cavalry brigades and one infantry brigade of Ma Hongkui's troops to Wuyuan (now Wuyuan County, Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region) to unify the command of the various anti-Japanese forces that had retreated into Suiyuan West. His mission was to prevent the Japanese army from advancing westward.   After arriving in Wuyuan, Ma Hongbin convened a meeting of commanders from various forces to discuss the defense against the Japanese. The various armies in western Suiyuan were of different factions and not affiliated with each other, and most adopted a policy of seeking safety and avoiding danger in their defenses. Ma Hongbin deployed the main force of his 81st Army, the 35th Division, at key passes in the Wubu Langshan area northeast of Wuyuan to serve as the first line of defense, while deploying three brigades of Ma Hongkui's troops along the line from Wuyuan to Langshan as reinforcements.   The terrain was challenging: vast deserts, mountains like Yinshan and Langshan, and the Yellow River's bends. Wubulangkou, a narrow pass between Erlang and Chashitai Mountains, was strategically vital. Defenses included anti-tank trenches and mines. These preparations reflected the Ningxia Army's blend of traditional cavalry tactics and modern training. The troops, many Hui Muslims, brought cultural cohesion and resilience, but faced equipment shortages—outdated mortars and rifles versus Japanese mechanization.   In May 1938, Ma Hongbin arrived in Linhe (now part of Bayannur, Inner Mongolia) to establish his command post. After inspecting the situation of the friendly forces in the defense zone and designating the defense zone of his subordinate 81st Army, he ordered Ma Tengjiao, commander of the 35th Division, to lead four infantry regiments, namely the 103rd and 104th Brigades, to Suiyuan Western Defense Command to fight against the Japanese. Ma Hongbin established a command post in Linhe, where he and his son, Ma Dunjing, the chief of staff of the 81st Army, deployed their troops in areas such as Wuzhen and Siyitang. Ma Dunjing directed his troops to conduct exercises in the Wuzhen and Siyitang area, and invited Soviet military advisors to provide guidance, preparing for combat with an extremely serious attitude.   To show his support for Ma Hongbin's leadership of the Suiyuan Western Defense Command, Ma Hongkui dispatched two cavalry brigades to Suiyuan Western Defense Command. The main reason why the Ma Clique army from Ningxia went to Suiyuan to fight against the Japanese was that the defense of Suiyuan was directly related to the safety of Ningxia. At the same time, after the Ma Clique army was incorporated into the anti-Japanese army, its primary task was to fight against the Japanese invaders and defend the country. In addition, the anti-Japanese enthusiasm of the people in the Northwest continued to rise. Under the impetus of the situation, it was inevitable that the Ningxia army would join the anti-Japanese war in Suiyuan.   The initial engagement came in the late summer and early autumn of 1939, as Japanese troops, driving cars, armored vehicles, and tanks, advanced from Baotou towards the defenses of the 81st Army in western Suiyuan, attempting to annihilate the main force of the 81st Army. Ma Dunjing (the third son of Ma Hongbin), Chief of Staff of the 81st Army, personally commanded the operation at the front line in Wuda Town. The Japanese advanced to the defensive positions of the 35th Division and bombarded Ma's position with heavy artillery fire. The 35th Division returned fire with 82mm mortars. Because Ma's mortars were old-fashioned, they emitted smoke upon firing, revealing their positions. The Japanese immediately unleashed over 200 shells on the 35th Division's artillery positions, silencing them and rendering them incapable of retaliating. Taking advantage of this, the Japanese, under the powerful cover of artillery and machine gun fire, swarmed in by car, tank, and armored vehicle. The 35th Division held their ground, waiting for the Japanese troops to enter effective firing range and disembark from their vehicles. Suddenly, soldiers of the 1st Battalion of the 206th Regiment jumped out of their fortifications and charged into the enemy lines, engaging the Japanese in hand-to-hand combat. The Japanese were thrown into disarray, some killed before they could even disembark. Those who did disembark suffered heavy casualties, with the remaining soldiers turning back to their vehicles and fleeing in panic. Forced to retreat after suffering a decisive blow, the 35th Division captured two Japanese vehicles, over a hundred artillery shells, dozens of boxes of ammunition, as well as firearms and officer's swords. This marked the first victory in the Suiyuan-Western Anti-Japanese War. This victory boosted morale and public spirit. When the captured vehicles entered Wuyuan County, the people cheered enthusiastically, plastering the vehicles with various celebratory slogans. An elderly local artist even composed a song to celebrate the victory and sang it on the street: "Our old Western Army (referring to Ma Hongbin's 81st Army) is really good at fighting. We drove away the Japanese soldiers, captured cars and brought them into Wuyuan City, where the whole city celebrated and welcomed them. Relying on our old Western Army, we defeated the Japanese soldiers, and the people have peace." The campaign's defining battle occurred at Wubulangkou in early 1940, following the Chinese raid on Baotou in December 1939. In the autumn of 1939, the situation in Shanxi stabilized, and Fu Zuoyi, the chairman of Suiyuan Province who had retreated to Shanxi, led his troops back to western Suiyuan, establishing the Deputy Commander's Headquarters of the Eighth War Zone to unify command of military and political affairs in western Suiyuan and actively preparing for a counter-offensive. To coordinate with the nationwide winter offensive, Fu Zuoyi decided to attack Baotou, a key Japanese stronghold, to contain the Japanese forces in North China. The Battle of Baotou was spearheaded by the newly formed 31st Division of Fu Zuoyi's 35th Army, with the 35th Division of Ma Hongbin's 81st Army providing support. Under meticulous planning, on December 20th, Sun Lanfeng's newly formed 31st Division of Fu Zuoyi's army stormed into Baotou. The Japanese army, caught off guard, panicked and suffered over a thousand casualties, scattering in all directions, losing all their supplies within the city. Fu Zuoyi then directed his troops to withdraw to the rear of western Suiyuan, luring the enemy deeper into the territory for a later battle.   The Battle of Baotou greatly angered the Japanese army. Therefore, more than 30,000 Japanese troops were mobilized from Zhangjiakou, Taiyuan, Datong, and other places, along with more than 1,500 military vehicles, armored vehicles, tanks, dozens of aircraft, and six divisions of puppet Mongolian troops, totaling more than 40,000 men. Under the command of Division Commander Kuroda, they launched a major offensive into western Suiyuan in early 1940, attempting to seize western and southern Inner Mongolia in one fell swoop. Facing the superior Japanese forces, the people and soldiers of western Suiyuan adopted a scorched-earth policy and mobile warfare to maneuver against the enemy. The specific deployment was as follows: the 7th Cavalry Division of Men Bingyue's troops blocked the Japanese troops in the Xishanzui and Maqidukou areas, and then turned to the right bank of the Yellow River to threaten the enemy's left flank; the 35th Division of Ma Hongbin's troops and the 1st Cavalry Brigade of Ma Hongkui's troops constructed positions in the Wubulangkou and Wuzhen areas, blocked the enemy, and then moved into Langshan to threaten the Japanese right flank; the 35th Army of Fu Zuoyi's troops assembled northwest of Wuyuan to launch mobile attacks on the enemy; other units chose favorable terrain to harass the exhausted enemy at any time; and the logistics personnel were transferred to the Dengkou and Shizuishan areas. Before Langshan Mountain, where the Yang family generals once fought against the Jin dynasty, a thousand-mile-long battlefield against the Japanese was set up.   Wubulangkou is located in the western part of the Yinshan Mountains. Nestled between the eastern and western ends of the rugged and precipitous Erlang Mountain and Chashitai Mountain, it forms a strategically vital location. After Fu Zuoyi returned to western Suiyuan in 1939 to serve as deputy commander of the Eighth War Zone, the Ningxia army was placed under his command. At the end of December, Fu Zuoyi's troops stormed Baotou, inflicting over a thousand casualties on the Japanese. Okabe, commander of the Japanese Mengjiang Garrison, considered the defeat at Baotou a great humiliation and declared, "We must sweep through the Hetao region and completely annihilate Fu Zuoyi's army." To eliminate future troubles, the Japanese, "determined to decisively crush the enemy's base in the Hetao region with their main force," began in January 1940, mobilizing over 30,000 Japanese and puppet troops from Zhangjiakou, Datong, and other places, along with over a thousand vehicles, aircraft, artillery, and tanks. Under the command of Division Commander Kuroda Shigetoku, they launched a three-pronged, menacing invasion of western Suiyuan.   On January 31, Kuroda led the main force of the Japanese central route, consisting of over 780 vehicles, armored vehicles, and tanks, and launched an attack at 4:30 PM on the positions of the 35th Division of the 81st Army in the area of Wubulangkou, Siyitang, and Wuzhen.    Ubulangkou, where Ma Hongbin's 35th Division was stationed, is a transliteration of the Mongolian word "Ubulak," meaning "mouth of large and small springs." Located in the southern part of present-day Urad Middle Banner, it lies at the junction of Wuliangsutai, Delingshan Township, and Wengeng Sumu, a strategically important location nestled between two mountains. When the Battle of Ubulangkou began, Ma Hongbin was in Chongqing attending a high-level military conference convened by Chiang Kai-shek, and his troops were commanded by Ma Tengjiao, commander of the 35th Division. At approximately 8:00 AM on January 31, 1940, the Japanese army amassed its forces in the Zaoshulinzi desert area, directly north of Siyitang and directly east of Ubulangkou. Their vanguard first used three aircraft to circling and bombard the positions of Ma's 205th Regiment, followed by artillery bombardment. Under the cover of aircraft and artillery, Japanese tanks, armored vehicles, and hundreds of military vehicles carrying Japanese troops launched an attack on the Siyitang and Ubulangkou positions. Following Ma Hongbin's orders, a defensive trench, 3 meters wide and 3 meters deep, had been dug in front of the 81st Army's position, stretching approximately 10 kilometers from the foot of Wubulang Pass to the north bank of the Yellow River. A 50-meter-wide pit zone preceded the trench. The two sides fought fiercely until nightfall, suffering heavy casualties and remaining evenly matched. At the Siyitang position, Ding Liangyu, the company commander of the 1st Company, 1st Battalion, 205th Regiment, was wounded and died the following day; more than 30 platoon leaders, squad leaders, and soldiers were killed. Xue Wanyou, the battalion clerk, was hit by an artillery shell, his body torn apart and his head severed. Although the officers and soldiers of Ma's 35th Division suffered heavy casualties, they held their ground. Unable to break through, the Japanese used aircraft to continuously release poison gas with the wind at their backs. Although Ma's troops had prepared simple gas masks made of gauze wrapped in sawdust, the concentration of the gas was too high, causing many to experience headaches, chest tightness, and vomiting, greatly weakening their fighting capacity and making the situation increasingly critical. Around 10 PM, Division Commander Ma Tengjiao ordered Ma Jiangong, deputy battalion commander of the 2nd Battalion of the 206th Regiment, to lead two companies from Wulanaobao to reinforce the 208th Regiment via Siyitang. Ma Jiangong was killed by a grenade in the fierce fighting. The two companies fought desperately to break free from the enemy and finally joined up with the 208th Regiment. The enemy, realizing this, reinforced their forces and intensified their attack. At 11:30 PM, the 208th Regiment's position was breached, but the enemy dared not advance rashly. The battle resumed at dawn the next day, and the fighting at the Siyitang position remained extremely fierce. Ma Tengjiao ordered the 1st Battalion of the 206th Regiment to reinforce the Siyitang position. While traversing a seven- or eight-mile stretch of open land, the reinforcements were subjected to heavy artillery fire from the Japanese, suffering heavy casualties. However, the troops braved the artillery fire, bullets, and thick smoke, breaking through the enemy's fire blockade and reaching the position. The combined forces of the Wubulangkou and Siyitang positions continued to inflict powerful blows on the Japanese army. The 205th Regiment, holding the fortified Siyitang, engaged in bayonet fighting with the Japanese army. When their bayonets bent, the soldiers would grab the enemy and bite them, or detonate grenades to die alongside them. The troops had gone two days and two nights without food or water, and coupled with the bitter cold, they were exhausted and suffering heavy casualties. The battle was exceptionally fierce, tragic, and arduous. Ma Hongbin later recalled this battle, saying, "Even the world-famous battles of Taierzhuang and Changsha, where the National Revolutionary Army fought with such heroic spirit, were no more than this."   In the early morning of February 1st, the Japanese army first bombarded the defensive positions at Wubulangkou and Siyitang with heavy artillery, and then used aircraft to dive-bomb the open area in front of Wubulangkou. Under the attack of enemy artillery and tanks combined with infantry, the 208th Regiment suffered heavy casualties, and the front-line positions at Wubulangkou were breached by the enemy. The 205th and 206th Regiments sent reinforcements, using bunkers and high ground fortifications to stubbornly resist the enemy, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides. Seeing that they could not capture the positions defended by the Ningxia army, the Japanese army released tear gas and sneezing gas. While attacking from the front, the Japanese army sent puppet Mongolian troops to flank and attack Wubulangkou from the rear of the mountain. Although the Ma troops resisted bravely, they were ultimately outnumbered, and their positions were successively breached by the enemy, forcing the remaining defenders to withdraw. In this battle, more than 1,000 officers and soldiers of the Ningxia Ma troops shed their blood in western Suiyuan, using their lives to block the enemy's advance.   Ma's troops retreated, pursued by Japanese ground forces and strafed by aircraft, suffering over a thousand casualties and forced to retreat into the desert. They continued to fight the Japanese in the quicksand, killing another 200 enemy soldiers. After a grueling six-day, six-night march, the troops successfully returned to their Dengkou base for rest. Post-war statistics show that Ma's 35th Division originally had over 5,000 men; in the battle of Wubulangkou, over 1,000 were killed and 2,000 wounded, including 700 suffering from frostbite. This battle exemplified sacrificial defense, buying time for counteroffensives.   Upon learning of the defeat of his troops in Chongqing, Ma Hongbin immediately flew back to Ningxia and rushed to Dengkou. After regrouping the troops and investigating officers who had failed in their command, he reorganized two regiments, replenished their equipment, and after a brief rest, led by Brigade Commander Ma Peiqing, returned to western Suiyuan. To cooperate with Fu Zuoyi's troops in continuing the fight against the Japanese invaders, the Ningxia army, mainly composed of the 35th Division, entered the Dala Banner area of Yimeng to fight the enemy. After occupying Wuyuan, the Japanese army believed that the Chinese army in western Suiyuan was in disarray and would be unable to recover its fighting capacity in a short time. Furthermore, due to its overextended battle lines and supply difficulties, the Japanese army had no spare troops to expand the war. Therefore, they centered their forces on Wuyuan, leaving a Japanese regiment and four divisions of puppet Mongolian troops, totaling over 15,000 men, to garrison the Hetao region, while the rest of their forces retreated eastward. After the main Japanese force withdrew, Fu Zuoyi decided to organize a campaign to recapture Wuyuan. In March 1940, he ordered his 35th Army to lead the attack on Wuyuan, while Ma's 81st Army moved from western Suiyuan to the Dalad Banner area on the south bank of the Yellow River in the Ordos League to construct fortifications and block Japanese reinforcements from Baotou. At midnight on March 20, Fu's 35th Army simultaneously launched attacks on Japanese strongholds in Wuyuan, Meilingmiao, and Xingongzhong. After two days of fierce fighting, our army finally recaptured Linhe and Wuyuan, killing Lieutenant General Mizukawa, the division commander of the Japanese army, and several thousand of his puppet troops.    Upon hearing the news, the Japanese troops in Baotou crossed the Yellow River, attempting to outflank the 35th Army from the south. However, their westward advance was met with resistance from the positions of Ma's 81st Army. During the defensive battle, Ma's troops were bombarded by more than 30 Japanese artillery pieces. Due to outdated weaponry and lack of artillery counterattack, Ma's right flank was destroyed, allowing the enemy to encircle them from the rear. To avoid being outflanked, Ma's troops retreated north to the Shawo area to regroup. Ma Hongbin ordered each regiment to exploit the enemy's difficulty in vehicular movement in the desert, employing mobile warfare tactics, advancing when the enemy advanced and retreating when the enemy retreated, maintaining a distance of five or six li from the enemy, and choosing opportune moments to attack and exhaust them. Ma's troops also frequently formed assault teams to harass the enemy at night, keeping them constantly on edge. After maneuvering with the Japanese in the desert for several days using mobile warfare, Ma Hongbin's troops occupied a hilltop southwest of Xinminbao and laid an ambush. When the enemy approached, they unleashed a sudden barrage of fire, inflicting hundreds of casualties. This blow forced the Japanese army to abandon its southern reinforcement plan and retreat north across the Yellow River near Zhaojunfen. After the Japanese retreat, the 81st Army immediately launched an attack on the puppet Mongolian cavalry south of the Yellow River. After more than a month of battles, large and small, except for Chaidengtai, which was captured by Fu Zuoyi's troops, all other puppet strongholds were wiped out by Ma Hongbin's troops, and "the entire Damian Beach area in the northeast of the Ih Ju League was recovered."   During the Qingming Festival in 1940, the 35th Division, returning to western Suiyuan, buried the officers and soldiers who died in the battle at Wubulangkou. With tears in their eyes, people buried the remains of 148 officers and soldiers at the Cemetery for Fallen Soldiers on the west side of Wubulangkou, and erected brick monuments in front of the graves according to the names on the surviving shoulder insignia of the fallen officers and soldiers' uniforms.    Casualties on all sides were significant, reflecting the intensity of the fighting. For the Japanese, two brigades and the 72nd Cavalry Regiment took heavy hits, though official reports admitted only about 1,000 losses. Given that these units were sidelined from combat for an extended period afterward, the true figure was likely far higher. Battle reports from the 26th Division alone recorded over 3,000 casualties, nearly 20% of its strength,pushing the total Japanese toll, including other units, to between 4,000 and 5,000. Puppet forces fared even worse. The "Suiyuan-Western Autonomous Allied Army" proved utterly ineffective, collapsing almost immediately against the superior Ma Clique cavalry of the Nationalist 81st Army. While the puppet Mongolian cavalry had some combat capability, their reluctance to fight for the Japanese—often against their own kin, led to half-hearted engagements and quick retreats. Combined puppet casualties and prisoners numbered around 5,000 to 6,000, bringing the overall Japanese and puppet losses to 10,000–12,000 killed or wounded. The Chinese forces, vastly outmatched in equipment and relying on brave but undertrained local security units, endured heavy sacrifices. Domestic sources estimate their casualties at 15,000–20,000.   This campaign marked the only major anti-Japanese engagement involving people from Ningxia, where over 10,000 Hui and Han fighters, under Ma Hongbin and Ma Hongkui, battled fiercely in what is now Linhe and Wuyuan in Inner Mongolia. Thousands perished, buried far from home, embodying the unyielding spirit of the Chinese nation. It stood as Northwest China's sole battlefield in the war, a point of pride for its people. Victory was hard-won, despite the Chinese having slightly more troops but far inferior weaponry. Success stemmed from the soldiers' bravery, tactical use of cavalry mobility, and crucially, the puppet Mongolians' unwillingness to fully commit. The campaign not only repelled the Japanese westward and southward advances, securing Northwest China's northern gateway and blocking incursions into Ningxia, Shaanxi, and Gansu, but also safeguarded key supply routes like the Suiyuan-Xinjiang Highway and connections to Lanzhou. This ensured a steady influx of Soviet aid, bolstering the national resistance and indirectly supporting efforts in Southwest China.   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. After a Chinese raid seized Baotou, Japan launched a major 1940 offensive with tens of thousands of troops, vehicles, armor, aircraft, and puppet Mongolian forces. Chinese defenders used scorched earth, fortifications at Wubulangkou, and mobile cavalry/desert tactics, ambushes, and night harassment. Fu Zuoyi later recaptured Wuyuan/Linhe. Casualties were heavy—Chinese estimates 15,000–20,000; Japanese/puppet losses possibly 10,000–12,000.

Last time we spoke about the first battle of Changsha. Japanese forces under General Okamura Yasuji, including the 6th, 13th, and 33rd Divisions, launched a multi-pronged offensive, crossing the Xin Qiang River and capturing Yingtian amid brutal fighting. Chinese defenses, commanded by Xue Yue in the Ninth War Zone, employed gradual resistance strategies, with units like the 195th Division under Qin Yizhi holding key positions such as Bijia Mountain and Fulinpu, inflicting heavy losses. Battalion Commander Luo Wenlang recaptured Dongtang in a midnight assault, grieving his fallen brother amid Mid-Autumn moonlight. Chiang Kai-shek, from Chongqing, oversaw operations while hosting a festive banquet, buoyed by international support like U.S. loans. By October, Japanese advances stalled; Okamura ordered a retreat on October 2, exposed by a downed plane yielding critical documents. Chinese forces pursued, reclaiming lines by October 8, annihilating over half the invaders per Chiang's commendation.   #198 The Battle of South Guangxi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In January 1939, the Japanese General Headquarters, responding to naval needs, ordered the 21st Corps to seize Hainan Island. The goal was to establish a base for air operations against southwestern China and to enforce blockade measures. Supported by the Japanese Navy, the Corps deployed the Taiwan Brigade, which landed at Haikou on February 10. After initial defeats, Chinese peace preservation units withdrew to the island's interior and conducted harassment operations. Japanese troops soon occupied northern counties including Qiongshan, Wenchang, Ding'an, Qionghai, and Chengmai, followed by the port of Yulin, which positioned them for southward advances toward Guangxi.   This invasion was part of a broader strategy to disrupt Chinese supply lines and secure a foothold in southern China. Although Chinese resistance on Hainan ultimately failed to repel the invaders, it highlighted the resilience that would define regional fighting.   After the costly Battle of Wuhan, the Sino-Japanese War reached a stalemate in central China, despite ongoing large-scale conflicts and Japanese strategic bombings that caused heavy casualties without breaking the deadlock. Politically, Japan's alignment with the Axis powers and the start of World War II in Western Europe led European nations to bolster ties with China. With major coastal ports under Japanese control, the Nationalist government's main overseas supply route became the Haiphong-Kunming railway in French Indochina, which transported four times more war materials in 1938 than in 1937, including heavy equipment purchased abroad.   The Hainan occupation negatively impacted Japan's war efforts, though diplomatic pressure on Britain and France proved ineffective. Meanwhile, the Imperial Japanese Navy proposed a southward advance: invading from Nanning to Longzhou County in Guangxi by sea to establish an airfield for strategic bombing. An April 15, 1939, Navy Department assessment deemed large-scale inland army operations challenging, recommending instead that the army and navy collaborate to occupy Shantou—the largest trading port on the South China coast—before pushing into Guangxi to seize Nanning and sever China's vital Indochina supply line.   In June, the Japanese General Staff's "Military Geography" emphasized that occupying Nanning would provide convenient transportation in all directions, reaching Guangdong, Hunan, Guizhou, and Yunnan. The Nanning-Lang Son road had become a major artery for Chiang Kai-shek's regime to connect with the southwest. To cut it off directly, Nanning must be captured first. Once occupied, heavy troops near Tokyo Bay would not be needed to achieve the operation's purpose. This idea gained considerable support both politically and tactically. The Army's northward policy had been defeated by the Soviet Union in the Battle of Khalkhin Gol in September 1939. Major General Tominaga Kyoji, the newly appointed head of the First Department of the General Staff, sought to avoid further embarrassments. Supporting the proposal involved transferring the 5th Division of the Kwantung Army, originally intended for Khalkhin Gol, to the south. This prevented front-line units from misjudging higher-ups' positions and allowed implementation without affecting existing troops.   In September, the European war broke out. The Japanese General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army to capture the vicinity of Nanning, cut off the international passage between Guangxi and Vietnam, and obtain a base for air operations in southwest China. Japan aimed to completely sever China's most important supply route. According to Japanese intelligence, the French Indochina line accounted for 85% of China's foreign aid in late 1939, with 12,500 tons transported in September alone.   On September 1, 1939, Germany attacked Poland; on September 3, Britain and France declared war on Germany, igniting World War II. Japan, eager to resolve the China issue and free up troops to seize Western colonies in Asia and the Pacific, stated through Prime Minister Nobuyuki Abe on September 4: "At the outbreak of the European war, the Empire will not intervene and has decided to focus on resolving the China Incident." In Nanjing, the China Expeditionary Army Headquarters was established, with General Nishio Hisazo as Commander-in-Chief and Lieutenant General Itagaki Seishiro as Chief of Staff, overseeing the North China Area Army, the 11th Army, the 13th Army, and the 21st Army.   On September 23, the Japanese General Headquarters issued an order to prepare for a swift response to the China Incident. On October 16, "Continental Order No. 375" directed the Commander-in-Chief of the China Expeditionary Army to swiftly cut off enemy supply routes from Nanning to Longzhou with a portion of the navy. Also on October 16, "Continental Order No. 582," a central Army-Navy agreement, aimed to cut off enemy routes along the Nanning-Longzhou line and strengthen naval air operations against the Yunnan-Vietnam Railway and the Burma Road. The operation was scheduled for mid-November. On October 19, Nishio Juzo issued orders for the Guangxi operation, involving the 5th Division, Taiwan Mixed Brigade, supporting units, the 5th Fleet (renamed the 2nd Expeditionary Fleet in mid-November), and the 3rd Combined Naval Air Group. Total strength: about 30,000 men, over 70 warships, 2 aircraft carriers, and about 100 aircraft. Tominaga Kyoji announced: "This is the last battle of the China Incident."   Politically, the Guangxi Army was a key pillar of the National Government after retreating to Sichuan. Attacking Guangxi could impact the Guangxi clique's stance on continuing the war. Cutting off the Nanning-Longzhou line would affect Vietnam-China transportation security and allow actions against French Indochina amid Europe's distractions. With tactical and political alignment, the plan was approved.   In September 1939, the Chinese repelled the Japanese attack on Changsha. In October, the National Government held the Second Nanyue Military Conference in Hengshan, summarizing the First Changsha Campaign and deciding on a new offensive. On October 29, Chiang Kai-shek announced: "Our future strategic application and the mentality of officers and soldiers must be completely transformed. We must start to turn defense into offense, turn stillness into movement, and actively take offensive measures." On November 5, after the meeting, intelligence indicated Japan's intention to invade the south. U.S. and British agencies reported the Japanese fleet gathering in Tokyo Bay, signaling an imminent operation against Nanning. Chiang flew from Hengshan to Guilin to arrange defenses.   At this time, coastal defense was guarded by the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei (transferred, with Cai Tingkai taking over), a Guangxi clique force comprising the 46th and 31st Armies. Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters, was in Chongqing for the Sixth Plenary Session of the Fifth National Congress of the Kuomintang, while Chief of Staff Lin Wei was in Rong County mourning Xia Wei's mother. The headquarters was essentially deserted. Zhang Fakui, commander of the Fourth War Zone, and Chief of Staff Wu Shiyuan were in Shaoguan, Guangdong. The three-tiered command structure—headquarters, war zone, army group—was practically non-existent.   The Chinese forces north of the pass were commanded by Bai Chongxi's Guilin Headquarters, with Lin Wei as Chief of Staff; they included the Fourth War Zone under Zhang Fakui and the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei. They commanded: the 31st Army (Commander Wei Yunsong; 131st Division under He Weizhen; 135th Division under Su Zuxin; 188th Division under Wei Zhen); the 46th Army (Commander He Xuan; 170th Division under Li Xingshu; 175th Division under Feng Huang; New 19th Division under Huang Gu); and a portion of the 200th Division of the 5th Army (Commander Dai Anlan). Together with the 1st-4th Independent Infantry Regiments of the Guangxi Training Corps, total strength was approximately 60,000 men.   After the Japanese landing, Bai Chongxi was stationed in Qianjiang, while the 16th Army Group headquarters in Xiawei was at Heishiyan near Binyang.   In early November 1939, the Japanese 5th Fleet and the aircraft carrier Kaga escorted the 5th Division and the Taiwan Brigade to concentrate in Haikou. Japanese aircraft bombed important cities in Guangxi. At that time, the Chinese army defended the coast from Nanning to Qinzhou Bay and Fangcheng with part of the 16th Army Group of the Fourth War Zone. The 46th Army was responsible for the coastline of Fangcheng, Qinxian, Hepu, and Liankou, and the 31st Army for key points along the Xijiang River.   On November 9, Japanese troops assembled at Sanya Bay on Hainan Island. Lieutenant General Ando Rikichi, commander of the 21st Army, personally commanded from Sanya. On the 13th, the fleet set sail. On the 14th, vanguard ships feinted at Beihai with over ten ships. A battalion of the 175th Division retaliated and was ordered to destroy Beihai, but Commander Chao Wei of the 524th Regiment believed no landing was intended, avoiding complete destruction. That night, Japanese ships turned toward Qinzhou.   To safeguard the international communications link between Guangxi and Indochina, the Chinese Generalissimo's Headquarters in Guilin assigned defensive missions. The 46th Corps of the 16th Army Group was tasked with defending the coastline from Fangcheng to Qinzhou, Hepu, and Lianjiang. The 31st Corps was responsible for key positions along the Xi River. Defensive positions were prepared in advance, and communications infrastructure was sabotaged to facilitate gradual resistance, aiming to attrition Japanese forces before a decisive engagement along the Yong River.   On November 15, under air and naval fire support, the Japanese 5th Division and Taiwan Brigade executed a forced landing on the west coast of Qinzhou Bay. Following intense resistance, the Chinese New 19th Division withdrew to Pancheng and Shangsi. After capturing Qinzhou, the Japanese 5th Division advanced north along the Yong-Qin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade moved along Xiaodong–Baiji–Bujin Road. On November 17, the Japanese army captured Qinzhou and Fangcheng. The 5th Division immediately split into three routes along the Yongqin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade advanced north along Xiaodong-Baekje-Pujin. On the 18th, they attacked Xiaodong, the headquarters of the New 19th Division. Division Commander Huang Gu fled alone in the face of battle. His troops were routed, and the Japanese continued northward. Meanwhile, bandits from the Shiwan Mountains formed numerous plainclothes teams to lead the Japanese advance, accelerating their northward movement. By November 21, they approached the south bank of the Yu River. On December 1, they occupied Gaofeng Pass. On December 4, they occupied Kunlun Pass and then adopted a defensive posture.   On November 16, Chiang Kai-shek summoned Bai Chongxi in Chongqing, ordering him to return to Guilin immediately to command the battle, without attending the plenary session. Bai requested full command without intervention from Zhang Fakui, and that all armies obey the Headquarters directly. Chiang approved and transferred his elite Fifth Army and other units to Bai's command. Bai telegraphed Du Yuming to lead troops by train from Hengyang to southern Guilin and reinstated Xia Wei as commander of the 16th Army Group, with Cai Tingkai awaiting orders. The 16th Army Group assembled, and Deputy Commander-in-Chief Wei Yunsong arrived in Nanning on the 19th. Units rushed to block Japanese advances. Bai flew to Guilin on the 19th and Qianjiang on the 21st, establishing the command post. Thus, as Japanese arrived in Nanning, Chinese reinforcements like the 170th Division reached Yongning on the 22nd, two regiments of the 135th Division entered Nanning on the 23rd, and the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division arrived at Ertang on the afternoon of the 24th. Other armies assembled in Liuzhou and Binyang.   On November 21, Japanese troops approached the south bank of the Yu River. Wu Zongjun, commander of the 405th Regiment of the 135th Division, arbitrarily ordered his regiments to abandon positions and retreat. Wei Yunsong ordered Su Zuxin to intercept, but Wu disobeyed. No troops defended Nanning's front lines. At dawn on the 24th, the 170th Division fought fiercely in Yongning. In the morning, the Japanese 21st Regiment crossed the river. By afternoon, Nanning had fallen. Over the next two days, they swept surrounding positions. On the morning of the 25th, the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division fought alone against Japanese regiments at Ertang. Under air cover, Japanese attacked, but Chinese resisted stubbornly. Regiment Commander Shao Yizhi and Adjutant Wu Qisheng were killed. Given the situation, Division Commanders Li Xingshu and Dai Anlan retreated to Gaofeng Pass after dusk. Though they failed to stop the advance, this was the fiercest resistance since the landing, lasting two days and nights. On November 25, Japanese attacked the 175th Division near Luwu from Xiaodong and the highway. The division moved to Nalong, assembling in villages there. The 175th attacked key points along the Yongqin Highway, including Datang, Naxiao, Dongya, Nabian, Xincheng, Xiaodong, Dadong, and Bancheng.   On November 20, the 21st Army opened its headquarters in Qinzhou. On November 26, Ando Rikichi announced the formation of the Yongqin Corps under Imamura Hitoshi. Ando left for Guangzhou on the 27th. Starting on the 26th, Japanese attacked Gaofeng Pass with aircraft cover. Despite fierce resistance, Chinese lost Gaofeng Pass on December 1. On the 4th, Japanese occupied Kunlun Pass, then adjusted deployment. The two sides confronted each other along the Kunlun Pass mountainous boundary. According to statistics up to December 1, Japanese suffered 145 dead and 315 wounded; Chinese had 6,125 dead bodies and 664 prisoners (but Japanese casualties were underreported; the 41st Infantry Regiment received 727 replacements on January 19, likely matching killed and wounded sent back). Seized in Nanning: 300 tons lead, 200 tons coal, 500 bundles cotton, 321 tons cotton thread, 30 tons iron, 60 tons tin. On December 2, the Japanese 5th Cavalry Regiment and Morimoto Battalion were attacked by about 1,500 Chinese with four tanks at Batang. Japanese dispatched the 21st Brigade (Nakamura Detachment), repelling a mixed force of the 200th and 188th Divisions. Japanese occupied Kunlun Pass but left only a battalion to defend it, withdrawing the rest to Nanning.   Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters and deputy chief of staff, proposed a counter-offensive plan, which was approved by Chiang Kai-shek.   On November 24, when Japanese had just occupied Nanning, Bai Chongxi demanded an immediate counterattack while Japanese were unstable and weak. After failing to gain approval, Bai asked Du Yuming to submit a request. Du sent a telegram on December 1: "The enemy occupying Nanning is less than two divisions. They succeeded by exploiting our dispersed forces, but lack heavy weapons and supplies. Our army should gather superior forces and launch a counter-offensive quickly (before December 10) to defeat them and restore international transportation." Chiang decided on a counter-offensive on December 7. On the 8th, Bai conveyed the objective: "capturing Kunlun Pass and then recovering Nanning." By mid-December, assembly was complete. Chiang dispatched Chen Cheng and Li Jishen to supervise, and Zhang Fakui arrived in Qianjiang.   In the early stages, Guangxi lacked heavy armored forces for counterattacking beyond Guangxi clique troops. The fall of Kunlun Pass prompted Chongqing to deploy the reorganized Fifth Army and its armored corps for a strong attack. The Fifth Army was the main force at Kunlun Pass, with the National Revolutionary Army providing cover while launching a full-scale counterattack in Nanning.   To recapture Kunlun Pass and Nanning, Bai Chongxi dispatched approximately nine armies and twenty-seven divisions, totaling 300,000 troops: Xia Wei of the 16th Army Group, Ye Zhao of the 37th Army Group, Deng Longguang of the 35th Army Group, and Cai Tingkai of the 26th Army Group (31st, 5th, 64th, 46th, and 43rd Armies, etc.) to attack Kunlun Pass. The Japanese, with the Nakamura Brigade as main force and special forces, had strong fortifications. Xu Tingyao of the 38th Army Group, with Li Yannian of the 2nd Army, Gan Lichu of the 6th Army, Yao Chun of the 36th Army, and Fu Zhongfang of the 99th Army. The 5th Army, plus the 1st Honorary Division (Zheng Dongguo), New 22nd Division (Qiu Qingquan), and all armored, cavalry, artillery, and engineer regiments, arrived.   The Japanese forces consisted of the 5th Division (Lieutenant General Hitoshi Imamura; 9th Brigade under Major General Genichiro Ogawa; 21st Brigade under Major General Masao Nakamura; Taiwan Mixed Brigade under Major General Sadashiro Shiota), Marine Corps (over 70 warships), and Air Force (100 aircraft), totaling about 30,000. Later reinforcements: Imperial Guard Division and a brigade from the 18th Division. Total about 100,000, but only 45,000 fought. After a traitor reported over 100,000 Nationalist troops north of Kunlun Pass, Imamura dismissed it as "impossible." Higher Japanese ranks hoped to instigate rebellion by the Guangxi clique. On December 10, Imamura issued a telegram "Letter to Generals Li and Bai," expressing respect and stating the attack on Nanning was to cut off Chiang's lines, hoping for Japan-China cooperation. If insisted, the Japanese garrison would win. Finally: "The more than 4,200 brave soldiers who died in Nanning have been buried in Zhongshan Park and solemnly offered sacrifices. Please rest assured."   On December 15, Bai Chongxi took a decisive step in the escalating conflict by issuing the first counter-offensive order, setting the stage for a coordinated push against enemy positions. He organized the forces into three main route armies, with additional reserves held back for support.   The Northern Route Army, under Xu Tingyao's command, focused its efforts on Kunlun Pass. The 5th Army led the direct assault there, while the 92nd Division from the 99th Army skirted around Lingliwei to strike at Qitang, effectively flanking the pass and adding pressure from the side.   Meanwhile, the Western Route Army, led by Xia Wei, split into two columns to cover multiple fronts. The First Column, commanded by Zhou Zuhuang, targeted Gaofeng Pass in a bold advance. The Second Column, under Wei Yunsong, positioned itself at Suwei to block any reinforcements heading toward Nanning, cutting off potential enemy supply lines.   On the eastern flank, Cai Tingkai's Eastern Route Army aimed to disrupt key logistics. The 46th Army moved against Luwu and Lingshan, intent on severing the vital Yongqin Highway. At the same time, the 66th Army joined the assault on Kunlun Pass before pushing onward to Gula and Gantang. To bolster these efforts, the remaining two divisions of the 99th Army were kept in reserve, ready to reinforce wherever needed.   The very next day, on December 16, Du Yuming—now serving as army commander—gathered his officers for a critical conference within the 5th Army. There, they crafted a clever encirclement strategy dubbed "close the gate and fight the tiger," designed to trap and overwhelm the opposition. The plan's core involved the 200th Division, led by Dai Anlan, and the 1st Honorary Division under Zheng Dongguo launching the primary attack on Kunlun Pass. Flanking from the right, Qiu Qingquan's New 22nd Division would seize Wutang and Liutang, then turn to intercept any incoming reinforcements. On the left wing, Peng Bisheng commanded two regiments in a daring bypass of Gantang and Chang'an, aiming to strike at Qitang and Batang and seal off the enemy's retreat routes.   The enemy at Kunlun Pass was the Matsumoto Sozaburo Battalion of the 21st Brigade. Its 42nd and 21st Regiments were along Jiutang-Nanning. On December 16, Imamura ordered Major General Kawai Genshichi of the 9th Brigade to lead thousands in a surprise attack on Longzhou and Zhennan Pass, departing on the 17th.   At 8 p.m. on December 17, the Battle of Kunlun Pass began.   On December 18, Chinese forces began their attack and captured Kunlun Pass and Jiutang on the same day. On December 19, it captured Gaofeng Pass. On December 20, Gaofeng Pass, Jiutang, and Kunlun Pass fell into the hands of the Japanese army again. At dawn on December 18, the artillery of the 5th Army opened fire. After extension, the 200th and 1st Honorary Divisions attacked. Hundreds of Japanese planes bombed. By night, the 1st Honorary captured Fairy Mountain, Laomaoling, Wanfu Village, Luotang, and Hill 411; 200th captured Hills 653 and 600, taking Kunlun Pass. At noon on the 19th, massive Japanese air raid. Imamura dispatched the 21st Regiment under Colonel Miki Yoshinosuke, recapturing it. Positions were contested repeatedly. The New 22nd occupied Wutang and Liutang; Wutang recaptured by Japanese, but Liutang held, blocking reinforcements. When Imamura ordered Taiwan Mixed Brigade reinforcement, they were blocked at Liutang by Qiu Qingquan. Du Yuming ordered Zheng Dongguo to send Zheng Tingji's 3rd Regiment to encircle Jiutang from the right. They captured high ground west of Jiutang at night. On December 20, enemy at Kunlun Pass weakened, sending urgent reports. Imamura ordered Nakamura Masao with 42nd Regiment to reinforce, but blocked at Wutang for two days, reaching Qitang on the 22nd, blocked again. Nakamura was wounded on the 23rd morning. At 1:30 pm, Miki reported: "If the brigade cannot arrive before dusk, the front line will be difficult to secure."   Imamura ordered Colonel Lin Yixiong's 1st Regiment and Colonel Watanabe Nobuyoshi's 2nd Regiment of the Taiwan Mixed Brigade to reinforce, but blocked by 175th Division on Yongqin Road. Watanabe's regiment blocked at Luwu by 524th Regiment (Chao Wei), and after three days, couldn't pass. Watanabe was killed, remnants fled to Qin County. On the 20th, Imamura ordered the 9th Brigade's 3rd Battalion of Ito's unit back in 105 vehicles to reinforce.   The Japanese confirmed the attack and Imamura ordered Nakamura Detachment rescue. Over two weeks, encirclement and breakout battles occurred on the Nanning-Kunlun Pass highway.   On the 18th, the 170th Division launched the Battle of Gaofeng Pass, capturing a hill on the 19th but ambushed that night. On the 20th, the pass fell, retreating to Gewei. Bai inspected but no improvement; failed to capture Gaofeng Pass or block reinforcements. Ito's unit on Yonglong Road intercepted by 131st at Xichangwei. On the 22nd, Imamura sent two companies from Nanning, intercepted by 188th near Suwei. Ito's battalion besieged in Xichangwei for three days, spared because 131st avoided close combat. Under air cover, both broke through to Nanning on the 26th.   On November 21, Chiang was dissatisfied with Kunlun Pass progress, ordering: "If front-line troops and artillery fail to attack or complete tasks, they shall be punished for cowardice."   By the 23rd, two divisions of 5th Army had over 2,000 casualties; Japanese over 1,000. Six days yielded no results, with reinforcements arriving. Du changed tactics to concentrate forces, tightening encirclement.   On the 24th, Oikawa Detachment ordered back to Nanning, destroying captured materials and withdrawing from Longzhou and Zhennanguan. Bai learned some escaped, telegraphing Wei Yunsong: "If the second batch escapes, it affects the main force. The deputy commander-in-chief should be punished." Main force still escaped; local troops preserved strength, benefiting Japanese.   On the main position, Zheng Tingji spotted Japanese officers meeting and ordered fire, inflicting heavy casualties, requiring airdropped officers.   On the 25th, Second Regiment of First Division captured Luotang South Heights, annihilating over 200. From December 25, Fifth Army and 159th and 92nd Divisions occupied key high grounds. Fierce battle until December 31, capturing Kunlun Pass and Tianyin, killing Nakamura Masao, annihilating over 5,000.   Following the intense clashes at Kunlun Pass, the battle's toll on the Japanese forces became starkly evident in the weeks that followed. On January 19, just a month after the fighting peaked, the Japanese rushed in 3,389 fresh replacements to replenish their battered 5th Division. This influx was distributed unevenly: 1,848 went to the 21st Infantry Regiment and 814 to the 42nd, figures that likely corresponded directly to the number of dead and seriously wounded who had been evacuated back home—though those with minor injuries weren't factored into these counts. The ferocity of the engagement was further underscored by the capture of numerous Japanese strongholds, where Chinese forces found that every defender had been killed, leaving no survivors behind.   In many ways, this outcome represented a stunning annihilation for the Japanese, particularly the 21st Brigade, which was effectively wiped out. Key figures fell in the fray, including Brigade Commander Masao Nakamura, Acting Commander Sakata Genichi, Miki Yoshinosuke, along with various deputies and battalion commanders. The leadership losses were catastrophic: over 85% of officers above the squad leader level were killed. Japanese records themselves acknowledged more than 4,000 soldiers dead, painting a grim picture that their own war histories later described as "the darkest era for the army." On the Chinese side, the victory came at a heavy price, with over 10,000 casualties suffered, yet remarkably, the core officer corps remained largely intact, preserving command structure for future operations.   Zooming out to the broader theater in December 1939, the Japanese 5th Division and the Taiwan Mixed Brigade found themselves holding the line against an overwhelming force of more than 150,000 Nationalist troops. At the same time, the Japanese 21st Army was shifting its focus to Guangdong Province in preparation for Operation Weng Ying, while the Oikawa Detachment—primarily composed of the 11th Infantry Regiment—pushed forward to Longzhou. They captured Zhennanguan on November 21, securing valuable stocks of fuel and arms in the process. However, these stretched deployments and insufficient troop numbers left the Japanese without adequate reserves when encirclement loomed at Kunlun Pass. Ultimately, they were forced to abandon their offensive plans in Guangdong, pulling back to consolidate defenses around Nanning. Meanwhile, from their base in Chongqing, Chinese commanders had meticulously planned the recapture, turning the tide through careful strategy and sheer determination. Shocked, Japanese dispatched Vice Chief of Staff Sawada Shigeru to Guangzhou. On December 29, 21st Army sent staff to Nanning. Failed to change 21st Brigade's defeat. Imamura planned personal charge for revenge on January 1, but Ando ordered holding Nanning for reinforcements: "The 21st Army is transferring powerful force to annihilate enemy. 5th Division secure Nanning and key locations."   After capturing Kunlun Pass and annihilating two regiments of 21st Brigade, 5th Army thought to recapture Nanning. Remaining 21st Brigade and Taiwan regiments between Jiutang and Batang. At noon January 1, 1940, Oikawa's thousands arrived at Batang; Imamura ordered Oikawa replace killed Sakata. First battle on Hill 441. 1st Division held north side; Japanese south. On January 1, Japanese bombed and attacked; 1st Division reduced to hundred but held. At dawn 2nd, counterattack all day, no progress. On 3rd, Du mobilized 200th and part New 22nd; brutal fighting, heavy casualties. At nightfall, Japanese retreated to Jiutang. On 4th, Japanese abandoned Jiutang to Batang. New 22nd moved into Jiutang. 5th Army attacked Batang; by 12th, no progress. Exhausted with heavy casualties, 5th Army ordered to Silong for rest. Mission transferred to 36th Army. 5th Army withdrew.   On January 7, Chiang flew to Guilin, visiting Qianjiang on 10th to discuss plans with Bai, Chen, Zhang, Xu, Lin. Bai proposed offensive with new armies to recapture Nanning. Chiang approved. On 11th, as Bai issued orders, Chiang overturned, changing to defensive. Japanese gained time for counter-offensive.   To salvage defeat, Japanese transferred 18th Division and Konoye Brigade from Guangdong. Combined with existing, formed 22nd Corps under Seiichi Kuno, under South China Front Army commanded by Reikichi Ando, preparing counteroffensive.   On January 25, a brigade from the Japanese 18th Division and elements of the 15th Division attacked frontally along Yongbin Road, while Konoye Brigade flanked toward Guizhou via Yongyong Road, in Binyang Campaign. Konoye crossed at Tingziwei, then Yongchun County, via Gantang, Luwei, Gula, Wuling to Binyang, cutting rear. Bai Chongxi rushed 175th Division of 46th Army north to tail Konoye. After reinforcements, 21st Army launched offensive to drive and encircle south of Binyang; accumulated supplies in Nanning. On January 22, 18th and Konoye reached attack points. 38th Army Group HQ in Binyang bombed, communications cut, independent combat.   On January 28, Japanese launched offensive (Binyang Operation). On February 3, 41st Infantry of 5th Division occupied Kunlun Pass. On February 4, Ando reached captured Binyang. Nationalists lost Kunlun Pass, lines collapsed, many encircled. Battle ended with withdrawal; February 13, Japanese withdrew to Nanning, lines stalemated.   In the wake of the Binyang clashes, the 18th Division was indeed shifted to Guangzhou. Japanese records from January 28 to February 13 painted a picture of their spoils: they claimed to have captured 19 tanks, 5 light armored vehicles, 30 automobiles, 20 field or mountain guns, 13 rapid-fire guns, and 41 mortars. Additionally, they reported counting 27,041 Chinese bodies on the battlefield and taking 1,167 prisoners. The Chinese forces, for their part, regrouped with their main strength positioned east of the Yongqin Highway, while some elements maneuvered west to harass Japanese rear lines and coordinate actions from the north bank.   On February 21, 1940, Chiang arrived in Liuzhou, residing at Yangjiao Mountain. From February 22, he convened over 100 generals for a four-day Liuzhou Military Conference to review Guinan operations. Chiang demoted Bai Chongxi for poor supervision and Chen Cheng for poor guidance from first- to second-class generals. He also punished and rewarded other senior officers. The 46th Army and 175th Division were commended for discipline. On February 26, Fourth War Zone Commander Zhang Fakui announced: "No need for counterattack on Nanning currently." The entire Guinan Campaign ended.   The defeat embarrassed Chongqing; not only disrupted Guangxi-Vietnam traffic, but massive effort ended in rout. Pre-battle, Guilin Headquarters misjudged Japanese intentions; during, both Guangxi and Huangpu clique leaders showed poor performance, infuriating Chiang. Post-battle punishments were unprecedented in the war.   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 November 1939, Japanese forces, including the 5th Division and Taiwan Brigade, landed at Qinzhou Bay, captured Nanning, and advanced to Kunlun Pass. Chinese troops, under Bai Chongxi and reinforced by the elite 5th Army, launched fierce counteroffensives, recapturing Kunlun Pass in December with heavy casualties. 

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the first battle of Changsha. From Chongqing, Chiang debated defensive strategies for Hunan, ultimately adopting Plan B after Xue Yue's pleas, focusing on successive resistance north of Changsha to thwart Japanese advances. Japanese forces, under Okamura Yasuji, launched assaults in Jiangxi and Hunan. In Jiangxi, the 106th and 101st Divisions attacked Huibu and Gao'an, where Chinese troops under Luo Zhuoying and Song Kentang fiercely resisted. Gao'an fell briefly but was recaptured by the 32nd Army and the elite 74th Army, with heavy casualties on both sides, as recounted by soldier Liu Qihuai. In Hunan, Japanese units crossed the Xin Qiang River and landed at Yingtian, facing brutal opposition. At Bijia Mountain, Qin Yizhi's 195th Division held for four days; Battalion Commander Shi Enhua's reinforced unit perished entirely, their fragmented remains mourned by locals. Along the Miluo River, Chen Pei's 37th Army fortified positions, repelling waves of Japanese attacks, including suicide squads disguised as civilians. Recruit Yang Peyao's unit endured bombardments, inflicting significant enemy losses before withdrawing at dusk.   #197 The First Battle of Changsha 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. Major Luo Wenlang, battalion commander of the 3rd Battalion, 55th Regiment, 19th Division of the 28th Army, harbored a peculiar quirk: he couldn't sleep soundly without unwrapping his leg bindings, a small ritual that anchored him in the chaos of war. Since the war's eruption, such luxuries were rare, and unwrapping his bindings every night became an impossibility, leaving him to endure restless slumbers. Tonight, however, sleep eluded him entirely; he tossed and turned on his makeshift bed, his mind a whirlwind of unrest. Two days after the northern Hunan battle ignited like a powder keg, the 55th Regiment received urgent orders from Division Commander Tang Boyin to race to Wukou in Pingjiang County. Their path wound through Luo Wenlang's hometown of Fulinpu, a twist of fate that stirred conflicting emotions. Entering the village under the cover of night, the entire battalion encamped in the commander's modest family village, with battalion headquarters naturally established in his ancestral home.   Luo yearned to step across that familiar threshold but dreaded it, for his parents remained oblivious to a devastating truth. They slaughtered chickens and prepared meat, hosting the battalion staff with drinks and hospitality, after all, this was their son's unit gracing their home. Luo orchestrated door planks and straw for bedding, posted sentries, and deftly evaded his parents until they retired. Before dawn broke, he mustered the troops, ensured they were fed, and led them onward, slipping away like a shadow. By noon on the 22nd, they reached Wukou, only to receive fresh directives: rush to Yingtian to bolster the 95th Division against the enemy's audacious landings. The 3rd Battalion spearheaded the division's reinforcements, marching relentlessly through day and night, arriving at Dongtang, over 30 kilometers southeast of Yingtian—on the 23rd, hearts sinking upon learning Yingtian had already fallen into enemy clutches.   Luo Wenlang sought out the retreating 95th Division Commander Luo Qi to beg for a mission, his resolve unyielding. Luo Qi, anticipating his arrival, relayed Commander Guan Linzheng's ironclad instructions: The 19th Division's reinforcements would assume Dongtang's defenses. With the main force still en route, Luo Qi tasked Luo's battalion with relieving a segment held by a replacement regiment. He handed over a map, sketching a line with a pencil, a simple stroke that thrust Luo Wenlang and his men onto the front lines of fate. An operations staff was dispatched to guide them to the position and oversee the handover.   As the troops advanced, they encountered scattered soldiers fleeing like startled rabbits; seizing a platoon leader revealed they were indeed from the replacement regiment. Mere minutes from division HQ, the enemy was already closing in, a predator's breath hot on their necks. Luo Wenlang and Deputy Battalion Commander Wu Yacui split the battalion, launching a counterattack on Dongtang from dual routes. Fortune favored them; the Japanese held only an exhausted company, crumbling under a single, ferocious charge. They swiftly deployed two companies to the positions, reserving one as a bulwark. By dusk, the full 55th Regiment arrived, accompanied by the rest of the 19th Division's reinforcements, allowing the battered 95th Division, ravaged at Yingtian, to withdraw for desperate reorganization. The regimental commander positioned Luo's 3rd Battalion on the regiment's vulnerable left wing. In the blink of an eye, it was the 27th, aligning with the 15th of the eighth lunar month. Amid the relentless great battle, few noted the calendar, and the skies hung heavy with clouds. Luo Wenlang twisted on his straw bed, his thoughts a snarled knot of anxiety and memory.   At 11 p.m., gunfire shattered the night; a barrage of machine gun bullets riddled the battalion HQ house, raining thatch and dust upon Luo like fallout from a storm. Catastrophe had struck! Luo surged toward the positions with the bugler—his battalion signal chief—and the reserve force, ascending the hilltop in a frenzy. Halfway up, he spotted 8th Company's Lieutenant Platoon Leader Rong Fayu leading over 20 soldiers in retreat. Bellowing "Why unauthorized retreat?" while brandishing his pistol, he compelled Rong to rally and turn back. The Japanese had launched a nocturnal assault; 8th Company Commander Yi Zuitao lay slain by a fatal shot, over a dozen comrades felled in brutal close combat, the survivors scattered like leaves in the wind; the high ground now belonged to the enemy.   Upon learning of Dongtang's loss, the regimental commander personally led the regimental reserve, his face etched with urgency. Under flickering lantern light, poring over the map with Luo, Division Commander Tang Boyin telephoned, his voice a whipcrack of command: Recapture it before dawn, or both would face the merciless hand of military justice. After seizing the high ground, the enemy hesitated to press further; Luo surmised the darkness concealed paths, and their numbers were not overwhelming. Forgoing the regimental reserve, he led 7th Company's 4 squads and remnants of the routed 8th Company in a stealthy ascent. Near the position, a ravine concealed over 20 8th Company soldiers, rallied by Sergeant Squad Leader Tan Tianrong, who had lurked in wait for reinforcements, dreading exposure at dawn under the enemy's gaze.   Spotting the battalion commander personally spearheading the counterattack, Tan Tianrong's face lit with fierce joy; his men, armed with grenades, surged as the vanguard. Intimate with the terrain even in blindness, they hurled explosives into bunkers, trenches, and works. The commander orchestrated the charge; the Japanese force of 40-50 men crumbled, over half slain or maimed, the remnants fleeing northward to their village stronghold. It was past 4 a.m.; the moon pierced the clouds, bathing the earth in a silvery glow. With positions reclaimed, the night revealed its secret: tonight was Mid-Autumn. Moonlight unraveled the tangled threads of his past; Luo draped his clothes over his shoulders, sat beneath the luminous orb, and wept in solitary anguish.   Before the war, devastating news had arrived: his brother Luo Yinong had been killed in Jiangxi. Luo had three brothers; the eldest shouldered half the family's burdens, their bond unbreakable. The brother had enlisted first in the 50th Army, climbing to battalion commander through sheer valor. He and his younger brother had followed suit, inspired by that call to arms.   Wartime conscription demanded only one per family, but battling the devils was a duty for the nation and its people. His brother had risen to deputy regimental commander before his end. The 50th Army notified him first. Engulfed in battle, there had been no time to console his grieving parents or tend to the funeral; it weighed on his heart like an unyielding stone. His sister-in-law, diligent and unassuming, cared for a young boy and carried another child; the long, arduous days ahead loomed like an endless shadow. The night dew brought a biting chill, the moon an icy sentinel; Luo shivered uncontrollably, his tears mingling with the frost.   The sky hung heavy with overcast gloom, yet the moon lurked beyond the clouds, casting a faint, ethereal light that warded off utter darkness. Along the road, a unit's elongated black shadow snaked southward in hurried silence, a serpent of weary resolve pressing through the night. Qin Yizhi reined in his horse, pausing to gaze back: the queue stretched onward, silent and impeccably orderly, belying the exhaustion of a force scarred by days of ferocious combat, their spirits unbroken amid the shadows. After the Japanese seized the 195th Division's defiant outpost at Bijia Mountain, they surged across the Xin Qiang River in a merciless onslaught. The river, shallow enough to wade knee-deep, offered no true impediment; the real barrier was forged from the defenders' scorching blood, a crimson testament to their unyielding stand. The 195th Division clashed in a maelstrom of cruelty; positions were heaped with corpses time and again, the Xin Qiang's waters churning blood-red in relentless cycles of carnage. From the night of the 23rd to the dawn of the 25th, respite was a forgotten dream; Okamura Yasuji, in a gesture of grim respect, inscribed Qin's name in elegant calligraphy and hung it within his command tent, a haunting trophy of the foe's tenacity.   Following their triumphant landing at Yingtian, the Japanese entangled the Ninth War Zone's left-wing defenders in a protracted snare, their advances grinding slowly like a predator toying with prey, menacing the flanks of the frontal troops with insidious intent. On the evening of the 27th, Xue Yue issued the fateful order for the 15th Army Group to withdraw to the precarious ground between the Miluo River and Shangshan City, ushering this blood-soaked force into an all-night march toward the next defensive crucible. Late into the night, a brief halt was called. Soldiers slumped to the ground, adjusting leg wraps and gear with mechanical precision; logistics teams darted through the ranks, distributing rations like lifelines; cooks, having forged ahead, arrived with steaming pots of rice soup, infusing the air with a rare warmth. Though no clamor broke the hush, a quiet camaraderie enveloped the queue, a fleeting balm against the war's chill.   The division staff claimed a flat expanse beside a farmhouse yard for their respite. Qin settled onto a stone roller used for grinding grain, nibbling at his meager ration and sipping the hot soup that steamed in the cool air. Suddenly, moonlight pierced the clouds, cascading down in silvery streams; the familiar contours of the farmhouse stirred a flood of warmth in his heart, evoking memories of home.   Chongqing, Huangshan Villa. Every window was shrouded in double layers of thick curtains, sealing out any sliver of betraying light, as if the very walls conspired to guard secrets from the encroaching night. Tonight's ethereal protagonist rose languidly from the eastern valley, its orange-red moonlight casting an aura of drowsy reluctance, as though it had not fully shaken off the slumber of the day. The feeble glow dappled the building's roof, balcony, and the surrounding hillsides, intersections, and thickets, where armed shadows lurked, capturing every rustle in the oppressive silence. Only upon close inspection could one discern the faint specks of moonlight glinting off steel helmets. Yet, beyond those fortified walls, another realm pulsed with life, a vibrant contrast to the shadowed vigilance outside. The front hall, living room, and dining room blazed with brilliant light. Vibrant flowers, dominated by chrysanthemums in full, defiant bloom, infused the air with color and fragrance; a phonograph murmured a cheerful Guangdong melody, weaving an atmosphere thick with festive joy, a deliberate illusion amid the storm of war.   Chiang Kai-shek, clad in a flowing black silk gown, strode ahead with poised grace, escorting his guests into the dining room alongside the elegantly attired Soong May-ling, their conversation laced with laughter and warmth. At the table, Soong May-ling's smile was a beacon of diplomacy, as she artfully arranged the seating to suit hierarchies and alliances, while servers in crisp white uniforms moved with nimble precision. This was Chiang Kai-shek's intimate Mid-Autumn family banquet; beyond a handful of pivotal military and political figures, the gathering brimmed with relatives. Guests and kin alike noted Chiang's buoyant spirits tonight; his smiles were wide and genuine, his discourse light and expansive, delving into casual topics with uncharacteristic ease.   In September 1939, China's War of Resistance Against Japan had entered its grueling third year. After the initial cataclysm of turmoil and disarray, the government and military had clawed their way to stability, adapting to this unprecedented historical crucible, with operations finally aligning into a semblance of order. According to figures proclaimed by Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin to Chinese and foreign reporters on the 13th of this month, Japanese invaders had seized 521 counties across 12 provinces, a vast swath of conquest. Yet, the Japanese imperialists had exacted this toll at a staggering cost. Just prior, on August 30, the Hirannuma Cabinet, installed a mere eight months earlier, had collapsed in mass resignation. Hirannuma Kiichiro's predecessor, Konoe Fumimaro, had similarly bowed out amid governmental failures, chiefly the unmet ambitions in the Sino-Japanese War that he had boldly promised to parliament, exacerbating domestic political and economic woes. Days ago, when Wang Pengsheng briefed Chiang on Japan's turbulent politics, he quipped: "Konoe said three months to destroy China; three months didn't work, nor three years, who knows about 30 or 300. Hirannuma had no solutions, down in eight months. Does Abe have good ideas? How long can he be prime minister?" Indeed, Abe Nobuyuki, Hirannuma's successor, would endure a mere four and a half months before resigning in ignominy. Tonight's feast showcased Chiang's favored cuisines: delicate Jiangsu-Zhejiang dishes mingled with robust Sichuan flavors. Chiang abstained from alcohol, raising his cup in mere symbolic toasts to his guests. During the meal, as if by unspoken accord, no one broached the raging domestic battles or the volatile international landscape; conversations meandered through trivialities, skirting anything heavy or discordant, a fragile bubble of normalcy.   On September 3, Britain and France had declared war on Germany, shattering the global order in a seismic shift. Foreign newspapers already bandied the term "Second World War," a phrase that evoked freshness, exhilaration, and sheer terror in equal measure. China's diplomacy surged with newfound vigor. In April, Ambassador to the US Wang Zhengting had negotiated a $20 million loan with American banks on China's behalf. In May, Stalin responded to Chiang's overtures, agreeing to exchange arms for Chinese tea, wool, raw hides, and more. A month later, the first consignment of light and heavy weapons—including artillery and heavy machine guns—arrived via clandestine routes through Xinjiang and Mongolia, bolstering the central army's frontlines. In August, Hu Shih, Wellington Koo, and Chien Tai represented the Nationalist Government at the 19th League of Nations Assembly, laying bare the Japanese imperialists' atrocities in China before the world and rallying global forces for peace to support China's defiant stand. Soon after, British and American civic groups ignited "China Week" campaigns, pressing their governments to aid the beleaguered nation. Waves of foreign volunteers streamed in from distant shores: doctors, journalists, ordnance engineers, even retired soldiers clamoring to join the fray on the frontlines.   "If we could pull America into this war..." Through Soong May-ling's subtle, persuasive influence, Chiang allowed himself to daydream of that prosperous, dynamic young powerhouse across the vast ocean. Thus, on this Mid-Autumn night, his talk turned to America, to his correspondence with President Roosevelt regarding the "tung oil loan." That saga had unfolded the previous October; T.V. Soong had jetted to America, securing a loan with China's tung oil, a commodity scarce in the US, as collateral. China had boldly requested $400 million; America countered with $25 million, a classic tale of "ask high, settle low." Yet, the funds were secured. One success paved the way for many. Soong May-ling had once confided to Chiang: "In mobilizing US aid for China's resistance, I'll make a difference." When Chiang responded with a smile, "Thank you, Madam," he could scarcely foresee how his beautiful wife's extraordinary prowess in fulfilling this solemn vow would astonish him, etching eternal glory for Chinese women worldwide and elevating Soong May-ling to the zenith of her life's achievements.   The most direct echo of the First Battle of Changsha's thunderous saga resides in the Ninth War Zone's meticulous report on the northern Hunan and southern Hubei operations, submitted to the Chongqing Military Committee and Chiang Kai-shek himself, a faded relic now entombed amid the vast ocean of Nationalist Government military and political archives in Nanjing's Second Historical Archives of China. This document, a painstaking compilation of combat dispatches from divisions, armies, and army groups, stands as a testament to valor and sacrifice. Tragically, time's relentless march and human folly have ravaged this priceless artifact, leaving only shards and whispers to conjure the heart-wrenching inferno of that bloody clash.   "October 24, Year 28. Urgent. To Chongqing. Chairman Chiang. Secret. Submitted by Commander Xue on orders." The rice paper has yellowed to a deep, somber hue, brittle and parched; a careless touch could reduce it to dust. Some pages lie fractured, their remnants affixed to white paper, forever unable to reclaim their original wholeness. Leafing through page by page unleashes a pungent miasma, a scorched, acrid, decayed blend that assaults the senses. Traces of fire and water mar the original rice paper sheets, with countless fragments glued haphazardly to white backings, their sequences lost to eternity.   "...The Xin Qiang River spanning from Lujiao to Leishi Mountain, defending a front of over 110 li..." "Enemy 13th and 33rd Divisions, parts of the Hata Detachment, naval units, and artillery, cavalry, engineers totaling..." "...Began attacking us first with artillery... fortifications completely destroyed, then infantry charged; relying on our officers and men all resolved to coexist with the homeland..." "...And launched balloons to direct artillery... our army braved the cannons... repelled them, corpses filling the river, turning the water red..." "Division casualties also reached over a thousand... failed to inflict greater strikes and annihilate... deep inner guilt, besides vigorously training troops awaiting orders to kill the enemy..." "...Attack casualties heavy, then concentrated large forces... artillery fire so dense like continuous firecrackers for hours... released poison gas, Wang Street garrison all heroically sacrificed, then breached... Zhao Gongwu kowtows, October 15"   Zhao Gongwu commanded the 2nd Division under Zhang Yaoming's 52nd Army. This unit first held the line along the Xin Qiang River, then fell back to northeast of Fengjiang Bridge to staunch the enemy tide once more; after October 6, it hammered southward-marching Japanese from the west in the Yanglin Street and Dajing Street regions. Through these crucibles, the division bled over half its strength. A fragment of an envelope clings to a sheet of white paper, its words faintly visible: "Changsha 126-3 Zhang Yaoming," "Hunan Jinjing Air Mail," "Combat Process by..." and the like. The stamp remains remarkably intact—a philatelic gem now. Measuring 1.5 cm square, it features Sun Yat-sen's portrait at its center, inscribed "Republic of China Post" below, with "5" in the upper right, "fen" to the left, and "5" in each lower corner. I sat at the long table in the spacious, brightly lit reading room, staring vacantly, my thoughts grinding to a halt. These remnants are all that endure for posterity, of that monumental battle, of the scorching blood and vanished lives of countless unnamed Chinese soldiers. With hands that once gripped a rifle, I gently caressed those pages from a bygone era; they were cold, devoid of any lingering breath.   As the full moon of the 15th of the eighth month dissolved into the golden-red blaze of sunrise, Qin Yizhi's 195th Division had already plunged into the rugged mountains and dense forests encircling Fulinpu. Per directives from 15th Army Group Commander Guan Linzheng, the 195th was to forge a new defensive bastion centered on Fulinpu, 40 to 70 kilometers from Changsha. Their mandate: stall the Japanese southward juggernaut, granting precious time for allied forces to muster and fortify around the city. Despite the grueling all-night march, morale soared undimmed. The advance chief of staff doled out positions to each regiment, and the troops dove into fortification labors with fervent zeal. The 195th Division's unyielding stand along the Xin Qiang River had already etched preliminary glory upon this unit in its baptism of fire. "Fame in one battle" echoed as a battle cry throughout the division, where collective honor intertwined with personal valor. Honor and triumph formed the bedrock for soldiers and armies alike. Yet, another fire fueled their resolve.   On September 23, amid the Japanese forcing the Xin Qiang River, Guan Linzheng's voice crackled over the phone to Qin Yizhi: "Facing you is the 6th Division." The 6th Division, a name that ignited fury in Chinese troops and civilians, forever linked to the demonic specter of Tani Hisao. Moments later, the whisper spread like wildfire through every trench: "The Japanese army that perpetrated the Nanjing Massacre is right in front." Agitation rippled through the ranks; some donned fresh uniforms and shoes from their packs, casting aside the worn; others flouted discipline to bid farewells to hometown comrades: "Today we fight to the death here; see you in the next life." "Tell my mother I died fighting the Nanjing Massacre enemies."   Some company commanders commanded their mess sergeants to expend all funds on hearty feasts. All Japanese were foes, but the 6th Division embodied a blood debt, an unforgivable vendetta; the Chinese nation does not lightly forget its tormentors. In the Xin Qiang River maelstrom, the 195th Division battled with heroic ferocity. Some soldiers, in their final breaths, murmured: "Die then; it's worth it." Others lamented slaying too few devils, gritting teeth, eyes refusing to close in eternal regret. Now under Inaba Shiro's command, the 6th Division splintered southward after breaching the Xin Qiang; roughly a thousand hounded the 195th to Fulinpu. On the morning of September 29, the Japanese blundered into the 195th's meticulously laid ambush. Qin Yizhi, pulse racing with excitement and tension, fumbled the binoculars from his guard's hand. His command sliced the air: "Begin." War history chronicles: "The 6th Division advanced south from the Miluo River along the Xinshi-Liqiao road and Xinshi-Fulinpu routes. The over a thousand reaching Fulinpu were ambushed by the Nationalist 195th Division, suffering heavy losses." As Japanese artillery and aircraft unleashed hell upon the 195th's positions, Qin orchestrated a swift southward withdrawal to the environs of Shangshan City. Again, without pause, they erected fortifications and set deadly traps.   On the morning of September 30, the pursuers from Fulinpu closed in on Shangshan, their numbers swollen to over 1,500. Qin Yizhi clenched his jaw, his demeanor icy calm, allowing the Japanese to creep into the kill zone before barking: "Hit them hard!" Combat raged from dawn to dusk, obliterating over 700 foes. Qin ascended a hill, surveying through binoculars, then erupted: "Bad! The enemy is retreating." Upon receiving Qin's telegram, Guan Linzheng scrutinized the map, momentarily stunned, then replied: "Enemy shows no retreat signs yet; proceed per original plan. Your unit to block at Shangshan City line until October 2." Xianning, Okamura Yasuji's 11th Army HQ.   Combat maps bristled with markings, staff officers darting amid ringing phones and clattering telegrams. The colossal red arrow in northern Hunan had fractured into tributaries, surging over 100 km southward from the outset; one tendril pierced to Yong'an City, a mere 30 km from Changsha. Vast swaths of northern Hunan lay conquered, yet Okamura sensed the tide turning, it was time to retreat. The Chinese employed their time-honored gradual resistance, battling while retreating with cunning grace. Some units fell back directly, others amassed on flanks—what portent did that hold? In Okamura's shrewd mind loomed an equally shrewd Xue Yue; he envisioned his adversary methodically weaving a snare.   Post-Yingtian landing, the 15th Army Group's timely evasion had unraveled his "Xiang-Gan Operation Plan" like fragile thread. If encircling and annihilating the Chinese main force proved unattainable, what purpose in pressing onward? Telegrams from 3rd Division's Fujita Susumu, 6th's Inaba Shiro, and 13th's Tanaka Seiichi piled on his desk, pleading to assault Changsha—for headlines and Imperial accolades, perhaps, but blind to their exposed supply lines vulnerable to enemy thrusts? Ground logistics teetered on collapse; the air force resorted to airdrops for isolated regiments. Venturing further south would stretch lines to breaking; a severed artery spelled doom for the vanguard. When would these commanders mature into true stewards of the Imperial Army? Okamura fretted and pitied them in equal measure.   At 4 p.m. on September 30, Okamura decreed a halt to advances at Shangshan and Yong'an. He commenced orchestrating the retreat. Changsha, Yuelu Mountain, Ninth War Zone Command Forward HQ. October 1. Xue Yue stood before the map, Guan's latest telegram clutched in hand. Qin's second missive insisted on Japanese withdrawal, corroborated by 15th Army Group scouts from Yingtian: This morning (October 1), Japanese transports unloaded artillery stowed the previous night, hauling it back to Yueyang; intercepted wires revealed a regiment aborting its southward push, standing idle. Guan assessed the mosaic and commanded counteroffensives: intercept if feasible, pursue relentlessly, deny the Japanese escape; he relayed retreat indicators to Xue. Xue paced the chamber, head bowed in contemplation. Chief of Staff Wu Yizhi, Staff Director Zhao Zili, and their cadre tracked his every step with expectant eyes, awaiting the verdict. Xue's thoughts whirled through military stratagems and beyond.   Pre-war, Xue had segmented the war zone's forces into tripartite blocs: Northern Hunan under Guan Linzheng's 15th, Yang Sen's 27th, and Shang Zhen's 20th Army Groups as "A Cluster"; Northern Jiangxi Nanchang with Yunnan Army Lu Han's 1st Army Group and the 74th Army as "B Cluster"; the Wuning, Xiushui, Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border guarded by Sichuan Army Wang Lingji's 30th Army Corps, Fan Songpu's Border Advance Army, and 8th Army; augmented by 3 armies' 7 divisions in general reserve. Before the storm broke, Xue pored over maps, tracing every mountain, river, road, and bridge, envisioning burial grounds for the invaders.   Now, beneath Changsha, 200,000 troops formed a tightening net. The "decisive battle in Changsha suburbs" blueprint had been wired to Chongqing. Chiang and the nation yearned for a resounding triumph as the resistance pivoted into a new epoch?! A masterful drama, honed over half a month's toil, neared its crescendo; yet that cunning fox appeared to sniff the trap's metallic tang, freezing in place. "Commander, phone from Minister Chen." "Brother Boling, good news." Chen Cheng's voice brimmed with levity, "Your formal appointment published. What? Ninth War Zone Commander! First to congratulate; document tomorrow." Shedding the "acting" prefix was inevitable; Chiang had intimated as much long ago. But for a man and general, true worth lay not in titles, but in forging indelible feats. Splendor was judged not by underlings, colleagues, or superiors, but by peers in the craft of war.   Unmoved by the promotion, Xue exhaled a profound sigh. Though the 15th's intelligence couldn't confirm a wholesale retreat, preparations for dual contingencies were imperative. Victories came hard; a splendid battle, harder still. He summoned Wu Yizhi and Zhao Zili to devise countermeasures for the enemy's potential flight. October 2, Sichuan Army Yang Sen's 27th Army Group, Yang Gancai's 134th Division special service company, under Company Commander Wan Mingyu, slogged through the profound mountains and forests on the northern Mufu Mountains' flanks. The 134th's covert mandate: infiltrate enemy rear via treacherous terrain, sabotage supply arteries in the Chongyang-Xianning sector, and deliver a dagger to the Japanese spine when opportunity struck, bolstering frontal defenses.   Past 3 p.m., a crystalline mountain stream materialized. Wan decreed a respite. Over 100 soldiers, drained from a half-day's ascent, collapsed like puppets with severed strings. Most propped their torsos with rifles in one hand, fanning hats to ward off the relentless forest mosquitoes with the other. Regaining breath, they devoured rations washed down with stream water. Some unfurled towels and ventured downstream, letting the cool flow rinse away layers of sweat. Then, a muted engine drone encroached from the heavens. Wan peered through the foliage: a low-flying plane vectored southward, its wings emblazoned with the Rising Sun.   A transport; Wan recognized the temporary Japanese airfield near Xianning. With lines overextended, airdrops sustained isolated units. Wan was prying open a can with his bayonet, the tip etching a cross on the lid before levering along the edge; paired with a rice ball, it promised a savory repast. His orderly proffered a cup of fresh stream water; 2nd Platoon Leader Hu Yaozong perched nearby on a rock, smirking, poised to pilfer from the opened tin. Wan warded off this Sichuan Pixian compatriot. The plane droned overhead then.   Both glanced skyward; the platoon quipped: "Open quick, damn, I'll repay two cans later." Commander: "Want cans? Sky has; shoot plane down, enough for two lifetimes, bloat your mother-in-law first." The can hailed from a prior supply raid. Platoon: "You want me to shoot the plane?" Commander: "Bastard! You shooting or not?" The platoon snatched the light machine gun from a tree fork, jamming the butt against his belly, one hand on the grip, aiming crudely: "Come down, you turtle son!" The other hand squeezed the trigger. Wan assumed jest, resuming his task. "Da-da-da..." Wan jolted; the half-opened can tumbled to his feet, spilling Japanese fish onto Chinese soil. Recoil floored the platoon; he hurled the gun like a branding iron, face ashen. Inspecting the trigger, he snarled: "Whose damn fault, why no safety?!" The gunner dashed over; tall and even-tempered: "Safety was on; how'd it fire without pulling?" Wan's initial panic: "Damn! Position exposed."   The company spearheaded the division's reinforced regiment to raze a recent Japanese depot, guarded by a mere company—but exposure doomed the regiment deep in hostile territory. The assault had been plotted for days; pre-departure, Yang Gancai had toasted them. Wan had sworn a blood oath: No return to Sichuan without success. Hu had jested then: "No Sichuan return means wanting Hunan girl as concubine." Banter was fine in peace, but in war's grip, this was no trifling errand. Wan unleashed a torrent of curses, rising to survey the environs. The main force lagged 15 km behind; advance or abort post-blunder? Enemy rear was a labyrinth; this isolated band teetered on a razor's edge. As if to compel a choice, the radio operator approached; Wan itched to lash out. In his fury and indecision, a miracle unfolded.   The transport's engines hacked like a consumptive invalid, then a witness spied the plane banking left, plummeting, its nose inexorably toward a colossal rock 3-4 km distant. It rebounded twice on the stone, nose and left wing crumpling; the fuselage, fragile as parchment, tumbled gently, skewing onto the slope amid splintered trees. Wan gaped, then bellowed: "Assemble!" The men snapped from reverie, charging downhill in a frenzied cascade. One hour later, 134th Deputy Commander and Reinforced Regiment Commander Liu decoded Wan's vanguard transmission via radio. Another hour passed before Liu received Yang Gancai's directive: Abort Mountain Leopard operation; return with documents expeditiously. One day hence, October 3, Okamura Yasuji's original retreat order from October 2 dawn, addressed to northern Hunan's 6th, 33rd Divisions, Nara and Uemura Detachments, plus its Chinese translation, landed on Xue Yue's desk.   Fifteen days later, at the Changsha Victory Celebration, unit accolades were proclaimed; for "shooting down enemy plane, obtaining vital enemy documents," meritorious honors went to 134th Commander Yang Gancai and Deputy Liu. Each received 1000 yuan and one 3rd Class Baoding Medal. Okamura's October 2 order original: Chinese forces retreated to Miluo and Xiushui Rivers banks assembling; to avoid disadvantage, this army should quickly withdraw to original positions, restore combat strength.   Withdrawal plan as follows: … Xue's October 3 order original:   "Northern Hunan frontal units with current posture immediately pursue facing enemy fiercely, must capture in Chongyang-Yueyang south area. ... Pursuit units may detach part to monitor and sweep enemy collection troops; main force execute overtaking pursuit... Already deep behind enemy advance units vigorously destroy enemy transport lines, cut escape routes."   From October 3, Chinese forces unleashed ferocious counteroffensives against the Japanese on three fronts: northern Hunan, southern Hubei, and the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border; the invaders receded like a vanishing tide, never to reclaim their ground. The 25th and 195th Divisions hounded the 6th Division and Nara Detachment from Fulinpu back to the Miluo River, then to the Xin Qiang River. On October 8, the Japanese fled across the Xin Qiang; the 195th's 566th Brigade surged in pursuit, launching a nocturnal raid on Xitang-Jianshan. Gains were modest, but the enemy, entrenched in their den, resisted with feral tenacity. Qin commanded the brigade's withdrawal southward; northern Hunan operations concluded.   In southern Hubei, the 79th Army chased remnants of the 33rd Division from Sanyan Bridge to Pingjiang, across Nanjiang Bridge, hounding them back to their Tongcheng lair. On the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border, 30th Army Group Commander Wang Lingji orchestrated a pincer against Japanese at Xiushui. The foes retreated to Sandu, mounting a stubborn defense. Chinese assaults faltered for three days; on the fourth night's blitz, victory crowned their efforts, expelling the invaders to their original Wuning stronghold. With both armies reclaiming pre-war lines, the First Battle of Changsha drew to its resounding close.   Over days, Xue Yue received a deluge of congratulatory telegrams and letters from the Nationalist Government, Military Committee, National Assembly, myriad civic groups, party officials, and social luminaries. As hoped, among them was Chiang Kai-shek's effusive missive, brimming with joy. For Xue Yue, this one sufficed. Chiang Kai-shek's telegram to Xue Yue:   "In this northern Hunan campaign, over half the enemy was annihilated. The triumphant news has invigorated the nation, all due to effective command and soldiers' valor; I commend without reservation. Thoroughly investigate and report meritorious personnel from this battle; also report the dead and wounded for awards and relief. With this initial victory foundation laid, our officers and men's responsibilities grow heavier; urge your subordinates to extra vigilance, redoubled effort, avoiding arrogance or complacency, to amass great achievements, my deepest hopes."   As if countering Chongqing's high-powered broadcasts, Japanese radios in Wuhan, Nanjing, Beiping, and Manchukuo blared at full volume: "In this Xiang-Gan operation, valiant Imperial forces penetrated over 100 km into northern Hunan, sweeping anti-peace elements, routing Chinese central main forces, inflicting over 40,000 enemy casualties, a pivotal triumph advancing the holy war. Having achieved objectives, Imperial troops have victoriously withdrawn..."   In the aftermath of the First Battle of Changsha, the Japanese high command spun a tale of calculated restraint, insisting their assault was merely a spoiling raid, a calculated jab never intended to seize and hold the city indefinitely. With brazen confidence, they downplayed their toll, claiming a mere 850 souls lost to death and 2,700 wounded in the fray, while boastfully asserting they had slain 44,000 Chinese defenders and taken 4,000 captive, painting a picture of overwhelming triumph amid the smoke and ruin. Yet, foreign military observers, peering through the fog of propaganda with detached scrutiny, painted a starkly different canvas. They gauged Chinese losses at a far more tempered 20,000 killed and wounded, a heavy but bearable scar on the nation's resolve, while estimating Japanese casualties soared to around 30,000, a grievous hemorrhage that belied the invaders' claims of minimal sacrifice. Military historian Michael Clodfelter, sifting through the annals of conflict, ventured an even grimmer tally: a staggering 50,000 Japanese casualties endured in the relentless clash, a testament to the ferocity of Chinese resistance and the high price of imperial ambition. In the battle's locale, neither side claimed clear victory, but globally for the resistance, it favored China. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The First Battle of Changsha unfolded in September 1939 during China's War of Resistance Against Japan. Japanese forces under Okamura Yasuji advanced into Hunan and Jiangxi, crossing rivers and capturing key positions like Yingtian amid fierce Chinese defenses led by Xue Yue. 

The military general who became Emperor Hirohito's prime minister, Tojo Hideki is most often remembered as an iron-fisted leader who dragged Japan into World War II and—after spectacular losses—was eventually executed as a war criminal. Yet Tojo was far more than his ignominious end. In fact, as Dr. Peter Mauch argues in Tojo: The Rise and Fall of Japan's Most Controversial World War II General (Harvard University Press, 2026), he was one of the twentieth century's most accomplished military statesmen. Over a career of some forty years, Tojo successfully launched himself into the highest echelons of political power. He was not only a tactical genius, Dr. Mauch shows, but also a savvy administrator, a fierce imperialist, and a deeply loyal advisor to the emperor. Tojo's career took off with the notorious Kwantung Army in Manchuria, where he played a key role in escalating the Sino-Japanese War during the 1930s. As he rose through the ranks, becoming minister of war and then army chief of staff, he honed the efficiency of the Imperial Army and enhanced its influence within the emperor's court. All the while, he deftly negotiated the fractious military rivalries that arose wherever he went. Brilliant, ambitious, and often ruthless, Tojo reached political heights that were perhaps matched only by his precipitous fall in the final months of World War II. Layered and evocative, Tojo is at once a riveting military history of Showa-era Japan and a nuanced portrait of the relentless personality at its center. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

The military general who became Emperor Hirohito's prime minister, Tojo Hideki is most often remembered as an iron-fisted leader who dragged Japan into World War II and—after spectacular losses—was eventually executed as a war criminal. Yet Tojo was far more than his ignominious end. In fact, as Dr. Peter Mauch argues in Tojo: The Rise and Fall of Japan's Most Controversial World War II General (Harvard University Press, 2026), he was one of the twentieth century's most accomplished military statesmen. Over a career of some forty years, Tojo successfully launched himself into the highest echelons of political power. He was not only a tactical genius, Dr. Mauch shows, but also a savvy administrator, a fierce imperialist, and a deeply loyal advisor to the emperor. Tojo's career took off with the notorious Kwantung Army in Manchuria, where he played a key role in escalating the Sino-Japanese War during the 1930s. As he rose through the ranks, becoming minister of war and then army chief of staff, he honed the efficiency of the Imperial Army and enhanced its influence within the emperor's court. All the while, he deftly negotiated the fractious military rivalries that arose wherever he went. Brilliant, ambitious, and often ruthless, Tojo reached political heights that were perhaps matched only by his precipitous fall in the final months of World War II. Layered and evocative, Tojo is at once a riveting military history of Showa-era Japan and a nuanced portrait of the relentless personality at its center. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

The military general who became Emperor Hirohito's prime minister, Tojo Hideki is most often remembered as an iron-fisted leader who dragged Japan into World War II and—after spectacular losses—was eventually executed as a war criminal. Yet Tojo was far more than his ignominious end. In fact, as Dr. Peter Mauch argues in Tojo: The Rise and Fall of Japan's Most Controversial World War II General (Harvard University Press, 2026), he was one of the twentieth century's most accomplished military statesmen. Over a career of some forty years, Tojo successfully launched himself into the highest echelons of political power. He was not only a tactical genius, Dr. Mauch shows, but also a savvy administrator, a fierce imperialist, and a deeply loyal advisor to the emperor. Tojo's career took off with the notorious Kwantung Army in Manchuria, where he played a key role in escalating the Sino-Japanese War during the 1930s. As he rose through the ranks, becoming minister of war and then army chief of staff, he honed the efficiency of the Imperial Army and enhanced its influence within the emperor's court. All the while, he deftly negotiated the fractious military rivalries that arose wherever he went. Brilliant, ambitious, and often ruthless, Tojo reached political heights that were perhaps matched only by his precipitous fall in the final months of World War II. Layered and evocative, Tojo is at once a riveting military history of Showa-era Japan and a nuanced portrait of the relentless personality at its center. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/military-history

The military general who became Emperor Hirohito's prime minister, Tojo Hideki is most often remembered as an iron-fisted leader who dragged Japan into World War II and—after spectacular losses—was eventually executed as a war criminal. Yet Tojo was far more than his ignominious end. In fact, as Dr. Peter Mauch argues in Tojo: The Rise and Fall of Japan's Most Controversial World War II General (Harvard University Press, 2026), he was one of the twentieth century's most accomplished military statesmen. Over a career of some forty years, Tojo successfully launched himself into the highest echelons of political power. He was not only a tactical genius, Dr. Mauch shows, but also a savvy administrator, a fierce imperialist, and a deeply loyal advisor to the emperor. Tojo's career took off with the notorious Kwantung Army in Manchuria, where he played a key role in escalating the Sino-Japanese War during the 1930s. As he rose through the ranks, becoming minister of war and then army chief of staff, he honed the efficiency of the Imperial Army and enhanced its influence within the emperor's court. All the while, he deftly negotiated the fractious military rivalries that arose wherever he went. Brilliant, ambitious, and often ruthless, Tojo reached political heights that were perhaps matched only by his precipitous fall in the final months of World War II. Layered and evocative, Tojo is at once a riveting military history of Showa-era Japan and a nuanced portrait of the relentless personality at its center. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/biography

The military general who became Emperor Hirohito's prime minister, Tojo Hideki is most often remembered as an iron-fisted leader who dragged Japan into World War II and—after spectacular losses—was eventually executed as a war criminal. Yet Tojo was far more than his ignominious end. In fact, as Dr. Peter Mauch argues in Tojo: The Rise and Fall of Japan's Most Controversial World War II General (Harvard University Press, 2026), he was one of the twentieth century's most accomplished military statesmen. Over a career of some forty years, Tojo successfully launched himself into the highest echelons of political power. He was not only a tactical genius, Dr. Mauch shows, but also a savvy administrator, a fierce imperialist, and a deeply loyal advisor to the emperor. Tojo's career took off with the notorious Kwantung Army in Manchuria, where he played a key role in escalating the Sino-Japanese War during the 1930s. As he rose through the ranks, becoming minister of war and then army chief of staff, he honed the efficiency of the Imperial Army and enhanced its influence within the emperor's court. All the while, he deftly negotiated the fractious military rivalries that arose wherever he went. Brilliant, ambitious, and often ruthless, Tojo reached political heights that were perhaps matched only by his precipitous fall in the final months of World War II. Layered and evocative, Tojo is at once a riveting military history of Showa-era Japan and a nuanced portrait of the relentless personality at its center. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/japanese-studies

Linktree: ⁠⁠⁠https://linktr.ee/Analytic⁠⁠⁠Join The Normandy For Ad-Free NME, Additional Bonus Audio And Visual Content For All Things Nme+! Join Here:⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠https://ow.ly/msoH50WCu0K⁠⁠⁠The latest Segment of Notorious Mass Effect has Analytic Dreamz exploring BTS's highly anticipated fifth studio album Arirang, set for release on March 20, 2026—their first full group project in nearly four years following the completion of mandatory military service by all seven members: RM, Jin, SUGA, J-Hope, Jimin, V, and Jungkook.Analytic Dreamz breaks down the animated trailer that symbolically links the album to a pivotal 1896 historical event: seven Korean students at Howard University who recorded the earliest known Korean audio in the U.S., including the first documented version of the traditional folk song "Arirang" on wax cylinders, now preserved at the Library of Congress. This story, reported in The Washington Post on May 8, 1896, involved students like Im Byung Goo and Ahn Jung Sik, supported by diplomat Suh Kwang Bum amid Korea's late-19th-century turmoil after the Sino-Japanese War and Queen Min's assassination.The album's 14 tracks draw from influences like trip-hop and old-school hip-hop, produced by Pdogg, Kevin Parker (Tame Impala), Flume, JPEGMAFIA, Mike WiLL Made-It, Ryan Tedder, and Diplo (executive producer on tracks including “Body to Body,” “FYA,” “Like Animals,” “One More Night,” and “Into the Sun”). The concept emphasizes maturity, cultural resilience, connection, distance, and reunion—echoing "Arirang" as Korea's unofficial anthem with over 60 regional variations.Visuals feature the members in formal suits inspired by early 20th-century portraits, mirroring the 1896 students. The promotional campaign, "What Is Your Love Song?", includes interactive installations and billboards in Seoul, New York, London, and Los Angeles.Post-release highlights include the Netflix-livestreamed comeback concert BTS The Comeback Live | ARIRANG on March 21, 2026, at Gwanghwamun Square in Seoul, plus the 2026 BTS World Tour: ARIRANG launching April 9 in Goyang, South Korea—spanning 82 shows across 34 cities on five continents, with North American stops in Tampa, Las Vegas, Baltimore, Toronto, Chicago, and Los Angeles.Analytic Dreamz analyzes how this comeback bridges BTS's global K-pop dominance with deep Korean heritage, marking a reflective evolution for the group.Tune in for a detailed cultural and musical breakdown of BTS's Arirang era.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/analytic-dreamz-notorious-mass-effect/exclusive-contentPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Linktree: ⁠⁠https://linktr.ee/Analytic⁠⁠Join The Normandy For Ad-Free NME, Additional Bonus Audio And Visual Content For All Things Nme+! Join Here:⁠⁠ ⁠⁠https://ow.ly/msoH50WCu0K⁠⁠The latest Segment of Notorious Mass Effect has Analytic Dreamz exploring BTS's highly anticipated fifth studio album Arirang, set for release on March 20, 2026—their first full group project in nearly four years following the completion of mandatory military service by all seven members: RM, Jin, SUGA, J-Hope, Jimin, V, and Jungkook.Analytic Dreamz breaks down the animated trailer that symbolically links the album to a pivotal 1896 historical event: seven Korean students at Howard University who recorded the earliest known Korean audio in the U.S., including the first documented version of the traditional folk song "Arirang" on wax cylinders, now preserved at the Library of Congress. This story, reported in The Washington Post on May 8, 1896, involved students like Im Byung Goo and Ahn Jung Sik, supported by diplomat Suh Kwang Bum amid Korea's late-19th-century turmoil after the Sino-Japanese War and Queen Min's assassination.The album's 14 tracks draw from influences like trip-hop and old-school hip-hop, produced by Pdogg, Kevin Parker (Tame Impala), Flume, JPEGMAFIA, Mike WiLL Made-It, Ryan Tedder, and Diplo (executive producer on tracks including “Body to Body,” “FYA,” “Like Animals,” “One More Night,” and “Into the Sun”). The concept emphasizes maturity, cultural resilience, connection, distance, and reunion—echoing "Arirang" as Korea's unofficial anthem with over 60 regional variations.Visuals feature the members in formal suits inspired by early 20th-century portraits, mirroring the 1896 students. The promotional campaign, "What Is Your Love Song?", includes interactive installations and billboards in Seoul, New York, London, and Los Angeles.Post-release highlights include the Netflix-livestreamed comeback concert BTS The Comeback Live | ARIRANG on March 21, 2026, at Gwanghwamun Square in Seoul, plus the 2026 BTS World Tour: ARIRANG launching April 9 in Goyang, South Korea—spanning 82 shows across 34 cities on five continents, with North American stops in Tampa, Las Vegas, Baltimore, Toronto, Chicago, and Los Angeles.Analytic Dreamz analyzes how this comeback bridges BTS's global K-pop dominance with deep Korean heritage, marking a reflective evolution for the group.Tune in for a detailed cultural and musical breakdown of BTS's Arirang era.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/analytic-dreamz-notorious-mass-effect/exclusive-contentPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

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. 

EPISODE 672 - Karin K Jensen - The Strength of Water - An Asian American Coming of Age MemoirThe Sibylline Press edition of The Strength of Water, An Asian American Coming of Age Memoir, is scheduled for release on November 7, 2025! It is available for review on NetGalley and Booksprout. Pre-order on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and wherever books are sold.In 1920s Detroit, King Ying stands on a box to iron clothes in her parents' laundry business, endures taunts of Ching-Ching Chinaman on the playground, and tries to reconcile what passes for normal in Jazz-Age America with her father's vastly different cultural values.She dreams of a home, the elegance of her Jane Arden paper dolls, and winning her stern father's affection. But when Ba incurs steep debts during the Great Depression, he sends her far from hope to his ancestral village.In remote Tai Ting Pong, in the Guangdong Province of China, she feels as foreign in the land of her heritage as in the country of her birth. She must survive hunger, dangerous superstitions, and Japanese invasion as the Sino-Japanese War begins.When guardian angels help her return to the U.S., it's a chance to seize her American dream.In this inspiring and heartfelt memoir, Karin K. Jensen records her mother's transpacific quest for identity, survival, and new world dreams. The Strength of Water received a coveted starred Kirkus review and was included on Kirkus's annual list of Top 100 Indie Books.Book club discussion questions are included at the end of the book. Invite the author to your book club discussion!From the AuthorThe Strength of Water is my mother's memoir, as told to me, starting in the 1920s and spanning nearly a century. It offers exquisite period details of immigrant life in the U.S. and village life in China.One woman's epic odyssey, one family's story of striving in a foreign country, one generation's unique memory. An amazing memoir where the “strength of water,” the power of resilience and adapting to any circumstance, is the common thread that flows through the whole family, connecting everyone's lives. Touching, inspiring, and brilliantly written.Shen Yang, Author of More Than One ChildThroughout my childhood, my mother told stories of growing up in her father's Detroit laundry business during the infancy of the automobile industry and later in a Cantonese village on the eve of the Sino-Japanese war. She also spoke of what it was like to survive as a live-in domestic worker and teen waitress in mid-century California.The Strength of Water is a daughter's careful excavation of her mother's story; it is a mother's disclosure of history, of trauma, of realities that mark not only her life but the legacy of her daughters'. This is a book written with tremendous love and authenticity. It is an important document of the Asian American experience.Kao Kalia Yang, Award winning author of The Song Poet and The LatehomecomerThese stories felt like mythology, far removed from my experiences growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, yet vital to preserve as history. When I decided to set them down, I could hear my mother's voice so clearly that I wrote in the first person. Thank you for taking a look.A classic, vividly written immigrant saga - Kirkus ReviewshtSupport the show___https://livingthenextchapter.com/podcast produced by: https://truemediasolutions.ca/Coffee Refills are always appreciated, refill Dave's cup here, and thanks!https://buymeacoffee.com/truemediaca

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

XI ZHONGXUN'S 1935 IMPRISONMENT AND EARLY CCP INFIGHTING Colleague Joseph Torigian. Torigiandiscusses his book, The Party Interests Come First, focusing on Xi Zhongxun, Xi Jinping's father. The segment details Xi's 1935 imprisonment by rival communists who accused him of "mountainism" and "rightism," only to be saved by Mao Zedong's arrival. It explores the vicious ideological infighting within the early CCP, Xi's role in the Sino-Japanese War, and the disastrous failure of radical land reform policies. NUMBER 11

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

Hey guys, what you are about to listen to is an extremely graphic episode that will contain many scenes of gore, rape, human experimentation, honestly it will run the gambit. If you got a weak stomach, this episode might not be for you. You have been warned.  I just want to take a chance to say a big thanks to all of you guys who decided to join the patreon, you guys are awesome! Please leave a comment on this episode to let me know what more you want to hear about in the future. With all of that said and done lets jump right into it.   Where to begin with this one? Let start off with one of the major figures of Unit 731, Shiro Ishii. Born June 25th, 1892 in the village of Chiyoda Mura in Kamo District of Chiba Prefecture, Ishii was the product of his era. He came from a landowning class, had a very privileged childhood. His primary and secondary schoolmates described him to be brash, abrasive and arrogant. He was a teacher's pet, extremely intelligent, known to have excellent memory. He grew up during Japans ultra militarism/nationalism age, thus like any of his schoolmates was drawn towards the military. Less than a month after graduating from the Medical department of Kyoto Imperial University at the age of 28, he began military training as a probation officer in the 3rd regiment of the Imperial Guards division. Within 6 months he became a surgeon 1st Lt. During his postgraduate studies at Kyoto Imperial university he networked successfully to climb the career ladder. As a researcher he was sent out to help cure an epidemic that broke out in Japan. It was then he invented a water filter that could be carried alongside the troops.   He eventually came across a report of the Geneva Protocol and conference reports of Harada Toyoji as well as other military doctors. He became impressed with the potential of chemical and biological warfare. During WW1 chemical warfare had been highly explored, leading 44 nations to pass the Geneva Protocol or more specifically  “Protocol for the Prohibition of the Use in War of Asphyxiating, Poisonous or other Gases, and of Bacteriological Methods of Warfare”. Representatives from Japan were present at this conference and were involving in the drafting and signing of the Geneva Protocol, but it was not ratified in Japan at the time. Ishii's university mentor, Kiyano Kenji suggested he travel western countries and he did so for 2 years. Many nations were secretive about their research, but some places such as MIT were quite open. After his visit Ishii came to believe Japan was far behind everyone else in biological warfare research. After returning to Japan Ishii became an instructor at the Imperial Japanese Army Medical School. Japan of course lacked significant natural resources, thus it was a perfect nation to pursue biological weapons research. Ishii began lobbying the IJA, proposing to establish a military agency to develop biological weapons. One of his most compelling arguments was “that biological warfare must possess distinct possibilities, otherwise, it would not have been outlawed by the League of Nations.”   Ishii networked his way into good favor with the Minister of Health, Koizumi Chikahiko who lended his support in August of 1932 to allow Ishii to head an Epidemic Prevention Laboratory. Ishii secured a 1795 square meter complex at the Army Medical College. Yet this did not satisfy Ishii, it simply was not the type of work he wanted to do. The location of Tokyo allowed too many eyes on his work, he could not perform human experimentation. For what he wanted to do, he had to leave Japan, and in the 1930's Japan had a few colonies or sphere's of influence, the most appetizing one being Manchuria. In 1932 alongside his childhood friend Masuda Tomosada, Ishii took a tour of Harbin and he fell in love with the location.   During the 1930's Harbin was quite a cosmopolitan city, it was a major trading port and diverse in ethnicities and religions. Here there were Mongols, Russians, Chinese, Japanese, various other western groups in lesser numbers. Just about every religion was represented, it was a researcher's paradise for subjects. Ishii sought human experimentation and needed to find somewhere covert with maximum secrecy. He chose a place in the Nan Gang District of Beiyinhe village, roughly 70 kms southeast of Harbin. It was here and then he began human experimentation. One day in 1932, Ishii and the IJA entered the village and evacuated an entire block where Xuan Hua and Wu Miao intersected. They began occupying a multi-use structure that had been supporting 100 Chinese vendors who sold clothes and food to the locals. They then began drafting Chinese laborers to construct the Zhong Ma complex to house the “Togo Unit” named after the legendary admiral, Togo Heihachiro. The Chinese laborers were underpaid and under constant watch from Japanese guards, limiting their movement and preventing them from understanding what they were building, or what was occurring within the complex. The complex was built in under a year, it held 100 rooms, 3 meter high brick walls and had an electric fence surrounding the perimeter. One thousand captives at any given time could be imprisoned within the complex. To ensure absolute secrecy, security guards patrolled the complex 24/7. Saburo Endo, director of Operations for the Kwantung Army once inspected the Togo Unit and described it in his book “The Fifteen Years' Sino-Japanese War and Me”, as such:   [It was] converted from a rather large soy sauce workshop, surrounded by high rammed earth wall. All the attending military doctors had pseudonyms, and they were strictly regulated and were not allowed to communicate with the outsiders. The name of the unit was “Tōgō Unit.” One by one, the subjects of the experiments were imprisoned in a sturdy iron lattice and inoculated with various pathogenic bacteria to observe changes in their conditions. They used prisoners on death row in the prisons of Harbin for these experiments. It was said that it was for national defense purposes, but the experiments were performed with appalling brutality.The dead were burned in high-voltage electric furnaces, leaving no trace.    A local from the region added this about the complex “We heard rumors of people having blood drawn in there but we never went near the place. We were too afraid. When the construction started, there were about forty houses in our village, and a lot of people were driven out. About one person from each home was taken to work on the construction. People were gathered from villages from all around here, maybe about a thousand people in all. The only things we worked on were the surrounding wall and the earthen walls. The Chinese that worked on the buildings were brought in from somewhere, but we didn't know where. After everything was finished, those people were killed.”    Despite all the secrecy, it was soon discovered prisoners were being taken, primarily from the CCP and bandits who were being subjected to tests. One such test was to gradually drain a victim of blood to see at what point they would die. The unit drew 500 cc of blood from each prisoner every 3-5 days. As their bodies drew weaker, they were dissected for further research, the average prisoner lasted a maximum of a month. Due to the climate of Manchuria, it was soon established that finding methods to treat frostbite would benefit the Kwantung army. Ishii's team gathered human subjects and began freezing and unfreezing them. Sometimes these experiments included observing test subjects whose limbs had been frozen and severed. The Togo team reported to General Okamura Yasuji, the deputy commander in chief of the Kwantung army from 1933-1934 that the best way to treat frostbite was to soak a limb in 37 degree water. According to the testimony of a witness named Furuichi at trial done in Khabarovsk , “Experiments in freezing human beings were performed every year in the detachment, in the coldest months of the year—November, December, January and February. The experimental technique was as follows: the test subjects were taken out into the frost at about 11 o'clock at night, compelled to dip their hands into a barrel of cold water and forced to stand with wet hands in the frost for a long time. Alternatively, some were taken out dressed, but with bare feet and compelled to stand at night in the frost during the coldest period of the year. When frostbite had developed, the subjects were taken to a room and forced to put their feet in water of 5 degrees Celsius, after which the temperature was gradually increased.”   Sergeant Major Kurakazu who was with Unit 731 later on in 1940 and taken prisoner by the Soviets in 1945 stated during the Khabarovsk trial , “I saw experiments performed on living people for the first time in December 1940. I was shown these experiments by researcher Yoshimura, a member of the 1st Division. These experiments were performed in the prison laboratory. When I walked into the prison laboratory, ve Chinese experimentees were sitting there; two of these Chinese had no fingers at all, their hands were black; in those of three others the bones were visible. They had fingers, but they were only bones. Yoshimura told me that this was the result of freezing experiments.”   According to Major Karasawa during the same trial Ishii became curious about using plague as a weapon of war and captured plague infected mice to test on subjects in the Zhong Ma Complex “Ishii told me that he had experimented with cholera and plague on the mounted bandits of Manchuria during 1933-1934 and discovered that the plague was effective.”   According to Lt General Endo Saburo's diary entry on November 16th of 1933, at the Zhong Ma complex “The second squad which was responsible for poison gas, liquid poison; and the First Squad which was responsible for electrical experiments. Two bandits were used by each squad for the experiments.  Phosgene gas—5-minute injection of gas into a brick-lined room; the subject was still alive one day aer inhalation of gas; critically ill with pneumonia.  Potassium cyanide—the subject was injected with 15 mg.; subject lost consciousness approximately 20 minutes later.  20,000 volts—several jolts were not enough to kill the subject; injection of poison required to kill the subject.  5000 volts—several jolts were not enough; aer several minutes of continuous current, subject was burned to death.”    The Togo Unit established a strict security system to keep its research highly confidential. Yet in 1934, 16 Chinese prisoners escaped, compromising the Zhong Ma location. One of the guards had gotten drunk and a prisoner named Li smashed a bottle over his head and stole his keys. He freed 15 other prisoners and of them 4 died of cold, hunger and other ailments incurred by the Togo unit. 12 managed to flee to the 3rd route army of the Northeast Anti Japanese united Army. Upon hearing the horrifying report, the 3rd route army attacked the Togo unit at Beiyinhe and within a year, the Zhong Ma complex was exploded.    After the destruction of the Zhong Ma complex, Ishii needed a better structure. The Togo unit had impressed their superior and received a large budget. Then on May 30th of 1936 Emperor Hirohito authorized the creation of Unit 731. Thus Ishii and his colleagues were no longer part of the Epidemic Prevention Institute of the Army Medical School, now they were officially under the Kwantung Army as the Central Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department. Their new HQ was located in Pingfan, closer to Harbin. Their initial budget was 3 million yen for the personnel, 200-300 thousand yen per autonomous unit and 6 million yen for experimentation and research. Thus their new annual budget was over 10 million yen.    Pingfan was evacuated by the Kwantung army. Hundreds of families were forced to move out and sell their land at cheap prices. To increase security this time, people required a special pass to enter Pingfan. Then the airspace over the area became off-limits, excluding IJA aircraft, all violators would be shot down. The new Pingfan complex was within a walled city with more than 70 buildings over a 6 km tract of land. The complex's huge size drew some international attention, and when asked what the structure was, the scientists replied it was a lumber mill. Rather grotesquely, prisoners would be referred to as “maruta” or “logs” to keep up the charade. Suzuki, a Japanese construction company back then, worked day and night to construct the complex.    Now many of you probably know a bit about Unit 731, but did you know it's one of countless units?  The Army's Noborito Laboratory was established (1937) The Central Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department of the North China Army/ Unit 1855 was established (1938)  The Central Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department of Central China/ Unit 1644 (1939)  Thee Guangzhou Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department of South China Army/ Unit 8604 (1942)  The Central Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department of the Southern Expeditionary Army/ Unit 9620 (1942).    There were countless others, detachments included Unit 1855 in Beijing, Unit Ei 1644 in Nanjing, Unit 8604 in Guangzhou, and later Unit 9420 in Singapore. All of these units comprised Ishii's network, which, at its height in 1939, oversaw over 10,000 personnel.   Victims were normally brought to Pingfan during the dead of night within crammed freight cars with number logs on top. They were brought into the building via a secret tunnel. According to a witness named Fang Shen Yu, technicians in white lab coats handled the victims who were tied in bags. The victims included anyone charge with a crime, could be anti-japanese activity, opium smoking, espionage, being a communist, homelessness, being mentally handicap, etc. Victims included chinese, Mongolians, Koreans, White Russians, Harbin's jewish population and any Europeans accused of espionage. During the Khabarovsk trial, Major Iijima Yoshia admitted to personally subjecting 40 Soviet citizens to human experimentation. Harbin's diversity provided great research data. Each prisoner was assigned a number starting with 101 and ending at 1500. Onec 1500 was reached, they began again at 101, making it nearly impossible to estimate the total number of victims. Since the complex had been labeled a lumber mill to the locals, most did not worry about it or were too afraid to do so. The prison's warden was Ishii's brother Mitsuo who made sure to keep it all a secret.    Ethics did not exist within Ishii's network of horrors. Everything was done efficiently in the name of science. Pingfang was equipped for disposing the evidence of their work in 3 large incinerators. As a former member who worked with the incinerators recalled “the bodies always burned up fast because all the organ were gone; the bodies were empty”. Human experimentation allowed the researchers their first chance to actually examine the organs of a living person at will to see the progress of a disease. Yeah you heard me right, living person, a lot of the vivisections were done on live people. As one former researcher explained "the results of the effects of infection cannot be obtained accurately once the person dies because putrefactive bacteria set in. Putrefactive bacteria are stronger than plague germs. So, for obtaining accurate results, it is important whether the subject is alive or not." Another former researcher said this “"As soon as the symptoms were observed, the prisoner was taken from his cell and into the dissection room. He was stripped and placed on the table, screaming, trying to fight back. He was strapped down, still screaming frightfully. One of the doctors stuffed a towel into his mouth, then with one quick slice of the scalpel he was opened up." Witnesses of some of these vivisections reported that victims usually let out a horrible scream when the initial cuts were made, but that the voice stops soon after. The researchers often removed the organ of interest, leaving others in the body and the victims usually died of blood loss or because of the removed organ. There are accounts of experiments benign carried out on mothers and children, because yes children were in fact born in the facilities. Many human specimens were placed in jars to be viewed by Tokyo's army medical college. Sometimes these jars were filled with limbs or organs but some giant ones had entire bodies.   Vivisection was conducted on human beings to observe how disease affected each organ once a human dies. According to testimony given by a technician named Ogawa Fukumatsu “I participated in vivisections. I did them every day. I cannot remember the amount of people dissected. At first, I refused to do it. But then, they would not allow me to eat because it was an order; gradually I changed.” Another technician Masakuni Kuri testified  “I did vivisection at the time. Experiments were conducted on a Chinese woman with syphilis. Because she was alive, the blood poured out like water from a tap.”   A report done by Shozo Kondo studied the effects of bubonic plague on humans. The number of subjects was 57 with age ranging from toddlers to 80 years old with mixed gender. The study used fleas carrying plague that were dispersed upon the local population in June of 1940 at Changchun. 7 plague victims were Japanese residents. The report stated the plague spread because of lack of immunity by the townspeople. Subjects' survival time ranged from 2-5 days, with only 3 surviving 12, 18 and 21 days. The subjects were infected with Glandular, Cutaneous or Septicemic plague, but most had the Glandular variety.     In addition to the central units of Pingfang were others set up in Beijing, Nanjing, Guangzhou and Singapore. The total number of personnel was 20,000. These satellite facilities all had their own unique horror stories. One was located in Anda, 100km from Pingfang where outdoor tests for plague, cholera and other pathogens were down. They would expose human subjects to biological bombs, typically by putting 10-40 people in the path of a biological bomb. A lot of the research was done to see the effective radius of the bombs, so victims were placed at different distances. At Xinjing was Unit 100 and its research was done against domesticated animals, horses particularly. Unit 100 was a bacteria factory producing glanders, anthrax and other pathogens. They often ran tests by mixing poisons with food and studied its effects on animals, but they also researched chemical warfare against crops. At Guangzhou was unit 8604 with its HQ at Zhongshan medical university. It is believed starvation tests ran there, such as the water test I mentioned. They also performed typhoid tests and bred rats to spread plague. Witness testimony from a Chinese volunteer states they often dissolved the bodies of victims in acid. In Beijing was Unit 1855 which was a combination of a prison and experiment center. They ran plague, cholera and typhus tests. Prisoners were forced to ingest mixtures of germs and some were vaccinated against the ailments. In Singapore after its capture in February of 1942 there was a secret laboratory. One Mr. Othman Wok gave testimony in the 1990s that when he was 17 years old he was employed to work at this secret lab. He states 7 Chinese, Indian and Malay boys worked in the lab, picking fleas from rats and placing them in containers. Some 40 rat catchers, would haul rats to the lab for the boys to do their work. The containers with fleas went to Japanese researchers and Othman says he saw rats being injected with plague pathogens. The fleas were transferred to kerosene cans which contained dried horse blood and an unidentified chemical left to breed for weeks. Once they had plague infected fleas in large quantity Othman said "A driver who drove the trucks which transported the fleas to the railway station said that these bottles of fleas were sent off to Thailand." If this is true, it gives evidence to claims Unit 731 had a branch in Thailand as well. Othman stated he never understood or knew what was really going on at the lab, but when he read in 1944 about biological attacks on Chongqing using fleas, he decided to leave the lab. Othman states the unit was called Unit 9240.  As you can imagine rats and insects played a large role in all of this. They harvested Manchuria rat population and enlisted schoolchildren to raise them. In the 1990s the Asahi Broadcasting company made a documentary titled “the mystery of the rats that went to the continent”. It involved a small group of high school children in Saitama prefecture asked local farmers if they knew anything about rat farming during the war years. Many stated everybody back then was raising rats, it was a major source of income. One family said they had rat cages piled up in a shed, each cage built to carry 6 rat, but they had no idea what the rats were being used for. Now hear this, after the war, the US military kept these same families in business. The US army unit 406 which was established in Tokyo to research viruses wink wink, would often drive out to these farms in their american jeeps collecting rats.  Getting fleas was a much tricker task. One method was taking older Chinese prisoners and quarantining them with clothes carrying flea or flea eggs and allowing them to live in isolated rooms to cultivate more fleas. These poor guys had to live in filth and not shave for weeks to produce around 100 fleas a day. Now Unit 731 dealt with numerous diseases such as Cholera.  Some experiments used dogs to spread cholera to villages. They would steal dogs from villages, feed them pork laced with cholera germs and return them to the villages. When the disease finished incubating the dogs would vomit and other dogs would come and eat the vomit spread it more and more. The dogs were also stricken with diarrhea and the feces spread it to other dogs as well. 20% of the people in villages hit by this died of the disease. Former army captain Kojima Takeo was a unit member involved in a Cholera campaign and added this testimony "We were told that we were going out on a cholera campaign, and we were all given inoculations against cholera ten days before starting out. Our objective was to infect all the people in the area. The disease had already developed before we got there, and as we moved into the village everyone scattered. The only ones left were those who were too sick to move. The number of people coming down with the disease kept increasing. Cholera produces a face like a skeleton, vomiting, and diarrhea. And the vomiting and defecating of the people lying sick brought flies swarming around. One after the other, people died." I've mentioned it a lot, Plague was a staple of Unit 731. The IJA wanted a disease that was fast and fatal, Cholera for instance took about 20 days, plague on the other hand starts killing in 3 days. Plague also has a very long history of use going back to the medieval times. It was one of the very first diseases Ishii focused on. In october of 1940 a plague attack was conducted against the Kaimingjie area in the port city of Ningbo. This was a joint operation with Unit 731 and the Nanjing based Unit 1644. During this operation plague germs were mixed with wheat, corn, cloth scraps and cotton and dropped from the air. More than 100 people died within a few days of the attack and the affected area was sealed off from the public until the 1960s.  Another horrifying test was the frostbite experiments. Army Engineer Hisato Yoshimura conducted these types of experiments by taking prisoners outside, dipping various appendages into water of varying temperatures and allowing the limbs to freeze. Once frozen, Yoshimura would strike their affected limbs with a short stick and in his words “they would emit a sound resembling that which a board gives when it is struck”. Ice was then chipping away with the affected area being subjected to various treatments, such as being doused in water, exposed to heat and so on. I have to mentioned here, that to my shock there is film of these specific frostbite experiments and one of our animators at Kings and Generals found it, I have seen a lot of things in my day, but seeing this was absolute nightmare fuel. If you have seen the movie or series Snowpiercer, they pretty much nail what it looked like.  Members of Unit 731 referred to Yoshimura as a “scientific devil” and a “cold blooded animal” because he would conduct his work with strictness. Naoji Uezono another member of Unit 731, described in a 1980s interview a disgusting scene where Yoshimura had "two naked men put in an area 40–50 degrees below zero and researchers filmed the whole process until [the subjects] died. [The subjects] suffered such agony they were digging their nails into each other's flesh". Yoshimuras lack of any remorse was evident in an article he wrote for the Journal of Japanese Physiology in 1950 where he admitted to using 20 children and 3 day old infant in experiments which exposed them to zero degree celsius ice and salt water. The article drew criticism and no shit, but Yoshimura denied any guilt when contacted by a reporter from the Mainichi Shimbun. Yoshimura developed a “resistance index of frostbite” based on the mean temperature of 5 - 30 minutes after immersion in freezing water, the temperature of the first rise after immersion and the time until the temperature first rises after immersion. In a number of separate experiments he determined how these parameters depended on the time of day a victim's body part was immersed in freezing water, the surrounding temperature and humidity during immersion, how the victim had been treated before the immersion ("after keeping awake for a night", "after hunger for 24 hours", "after hunger for 48 hours", "immediately after heavy meal", "immediately after hot meal", "immediately after muscular exercise", "immediately after cold bath", "immediately after hot bath"), what type of food the victim had been fed over the five days preceding the immersions with regard to dietary nutrient intake ("high protein (of animal nature)", "high protein (of vegetable nature)", "low protein intake", and "standard diet"), and salt intake. Members of Unit 731 also worked with Syphilis, where they orchestrated forced sex acts between infected and noninfected prisoners to transmit the disease. One testimony given by a prisoner guard was as follows “Infection of venereal disease by injection was abandoned, and the researchers started forcing the prisoners into sexual acts with each other. Four or five unit members, dressed in white laboratory clothing completely covering the body with only eyes and mouth visible, rest covered, handled the tests. A male and female, one infected with syphilis, would be brought together in a cell and forced into sex with each other. It was made clear that anyone resisting would be shot.” After victims were infected, they would be vivisected at differing stages of infection so that the internal and external organs could be observed as the disease progressed. Testimony from multiple guards blamed the female victims as being hosts of the diseases, even as they were forcibly infected. Genitals of female prisoners were infected with syphilis and the guards would call them “jam filled buns”. Even some children were born or grew up in the walls of Unit 731, infected with syphilis. One researcher recalled “one was a Chinese women holding an infant, one was a white russian woman with a daughter of 4 or 5 years of age, and the last was a white russian women with a boy of about 6 or 7”. The children of these women were tested in ways similar to the adults.  There was also of course rape and forced pregnancies as you could guess. Female prisoners were forced to become pregnant for use in experiments. The hypothetical possibility of transmission from mother to child of diseases, particularly syphilis was the rationale for the experiments. Fetal survival and damage to the womans reproductive organs were objects of interest. A large number of babies were born in captivity and there had been no accounts of any survivor of Unit 731, children included. It is suspected that the children of the female prisoners were killed after birth or aborted. One guard gave a testimony “One of the former researchers I located told me that one day he had a human experiment scheduled, but there was still time to kill. So he and another unit member took the keys to the cells and opened one that housed a Chinese woman. One of the unit members raped her; the other member took the keys and opened another cell. There was a Chinese woman in there who had been used in a frostbite experiment. She had several fingers missing and her bones were black, with gangrene set in. He was about to rape her anyway, then he saw that her sex organ was festering, with pus oozing to the surface. He gave up the idea, left and locked the door, then later went on to his experimental work.” In a testimony given on December 28 by witness Furuichi during the Khabarovsk Trial, he described how “a Russian woman was infected with syphilis to allow the scientists to and out how to prevent the spread of the disease.  Many babies were born to women who had been captured and become experimental subjects. Some women were kidnapped while pregnant; others became pregnant aer forced sex acts in the prisons, enabling researchers to study the transmission of venereal disease   Initially Unit 731 and Unit 100 were going to support Japan's Kantokuen plan. The Kantokuen plan an operation plan to be carried out by the Kwantung army to invade the USSR far east, capitalizing on the success of operation barbarossa. Unit 731 and 100 were to prepare bacteriological weapons to help the invasion. The plan was created by the IJA general staff and approved by Emperor Hirohito. It would have involved three-steps to isolate and destroy the Soviet Army and occupy the eastern soviet cities over the course of 6 months. It would have involved heavy use of chemical and biological weapons. The Japanese planned to spread disease using three methods; direct spraying from aircraft, bacteria bombs and saboteurs on the ground. This would have included plague, cholera, typhus and other diseases against troops, civilian populations, livestocks, crops and water supplies. The main targets were Blagoveshchensk, Khabarovsk, Voroshilov, and Chita. If successful the Soviet Far East would be incorporated into Japan's greater east asia co-prosperity sphere. Within Kantokuen documents, Emperor Hirohtio instructed Ishii to increase production rate at the units, for those not convinced Hirohito was deeply involved in some of the worst actions of the war. Yet in the end both Emperor Hirohito and Hideki Tojo pulled their support for the invasion of the USSR and opted for the Nanshin-ron strategy instead.    On August 9th of 1945 the Soviet Union declared war on Japan and invaded Manchuria. In response, the Japanese government ordered all research facilities in Manchuria to be destroyed and to erase all incriminating materials. A skeleton crew began the liquidation of unit 731 on August 9th or 10th, while the rest of the unit evacuated. All test subjects were killed and cremated so no remains would be found. The design of the facilities however, made them hard to destroy via bombing, several parts of the buildings left standing when the Soviets arrived. While most of the unit's staff managed to escape, including Ishii, some were captured by the soviets. Some of these prisoners told the Soviets about the atrocities committed at Pingfang and Changchun. At first the claims seemed so outrageous, the Soviets sent their own Biological Weapons specialists to examine the ruins of Ping Fang. After a thorough investigation, the Soviet experts confirmed the experiments had been done there. The real soviet investigation into the secrets of Unit 731 and 100 began in early 1946, thus information was not readily available during the Tokyo Tribunal. Both the Americans and SOviets had collected evidence during the war that indicated the Japanese were in possession of bacteriological weapons though. Amongst the 600,000 Japanese prisoners of war in the USSR, Major General Kiyoshi Kawashima and Major Tomoio Karasawa would become essential to uncovering the Japanese bacteriological warfare secrets and opening the path to hold the Khabarovsk trial. The Soviets and Americans spent quite a few years performing investigations, many of which led to no arrests. The major reason for this was similar to Operation Paperclip. For those unaware, paperclip was a American secret intelligence program where 1600 German scientists were taken after the war and employed, many of whom were nazi party officials. The most famous of course was Wernher von Braun. When the Americans looked into the Japanese bacteriological work, they were surprised to find the Japanese were ahead of them in some specific areas, notably ones involving human experimentation. General Charles Willoughby of G-2 american intelligence called to attention that all the data extracted from live human testing was out of the reach of the USA. By the end of 1947, with the CCP looking like they might defeat Chiang Kai-Shek and the Soviet Union proving to be their new enemy, the US sought to form an alliance with Japan, and this included their Bacteriological specialists. From October to December, Drs Edwin Hill and Joseph Victor from Camp Detrick were sent to Tokyo to gather information from Ishii and his colleagues. Their final conclusion laid out the importance of continuing to learn from the Japanese teams, and grant them immunity. The British were also receiving some reports from the Americans about the Japanese Bacteriological research and human experimentation. The British agreed with the Americans that the information was invaluable due to the live human beings used in the tests. The UK and US formed some arrangements to retain the information and keep it secret. By late 1948 the Tokyo War Crimes Trial was coming to an end as the cold war tension was heating up in Korea, pushing the US more and more to want to retain the information and keep it all under wraps.  With formal acceptance, final steps were undertaken, much of which was overseen by General Douglas MacArthur. On May 6, 1947, Douglas MacArthur wrote to Washington that "additional data, possibly some statements from Ishii probably can be obtained by informing Japanese involved that information will be retained in intelligence channels and will not be employed as 'War Crimes' evidence.” Ishii and his colleagues received full immunity from the Tokyo War Crimes Trial. Ishii was hired by the US government to lecture American officers at Fort Detrick on bioweapons and the findings made by Unit 731. During the Korean War Ishii reportedly traveled to Korea to take part in alleged American biological warfare activities. On February 22nd of 1952, Ishiiwas explicitly named in a statement made by the North Korean FOreign Minister, claiming he along with other "Japanese bacteriological war criminals had been involved in systematically spreading large quantities of bacteria-carrying insects by aircraft in order to disseminate contagious diseases over our frontline positions and our rear". Ishii would eventually return to Japan, where he opened a clinic, performing examinations and treatments for free. He would die from laryngeal cancer in 1959 and according to his daughter became a Roman Catholic shortly before his death.  According to an investigation by The Guardian, after the war, former members of Unit 731 conducted human experiments on Japanese prisoners, babies, and mental patients under the guise of vaccine development, with covert funding from the U.S. government. Masami Kitaoka, a graduate of Unit 1644, continued performing experiments on unwilling Japanese subjects from 1947 to 1956 while working at Japan's National Institute of Health Sciences. He infected prisoners with rickettsia and mentally ill patients with typhus. Shiro Ishii, the chief of the unit, was granted immunity from prosecution for war crimes by American occupation authorities in exchange for providing them with human experimentation research materials. From 1948 to 1958, less than five percent of these documents were transferred to microfilm and stored in the U.S. National Archives before being shipped back to Japan.

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

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

Last time we spoke about the fall of Shanghai. In October 1937 a small battalion led by Colonel Xie Jinyuan transformed the Sihang Warehouse into a fortress against the advancing Japanese army. These men, known as the "800 Heroes," became symbols of hope, rallying local citizens who provided vital support. Despite heavy casualties, they held out against overwhelming odds until a strategic retreat was ordered on November 1. As Japanese forces intensified their assaults, they breached the Chinese defenses and captured strategic positions along Suzhou Creek. The fighting was fierce, marked by desperate counterattacks from the besieged Chinese soldiers, who faced an unyielding enemy. By November 9, the Chinese faced a full retreat, their organized defenses collapsing into chaos as they fled the city. Desperate civilians sought refuge in the International Settlement but were met with hostility, exacerbating the terror of the moment. Amidst the turmoil, remaining forces continued to resist in pockets, holding out as long as possible. By November 11, Japanese troops raised their flag in the last stronghold, marking a grim victory.   #163 Crossing Nanjing's Rubicon Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. As the Japanese were mopping up Shanghai, Chiang Kai-Shek wrote in his diary on November 11th “I fear that they could threaten Nanjing”. Over In Shanghai, General Matsui Iwane was dealing with foreign correspondents, eager to learn what Japan's next move would be and to this he simply stated “For future developments, you had better ask Generalissimo Chiang Kai-Shek”. The correspondents were surprised by this response and pressed him further. He replied . “Chiang Kai-shek was reported to have predicted a five-year war, well, it might be that long. We don't know whether we will go to Nanjing or not. It all depends on Chiang.” At this point Shanghai was falling under Japanese control and now Matsui and his fellow field commanders were thinking, what's next? Nanjing was certainly the next objective. It was a common understanding amongst the Japanese leadership, that if the four main eastern cities of Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai and Nanjing were lost, Chiang Kai-Shek's government would collapse. Three of these cities had been taken, Nanjing was dangling like fresh fruit. Matsui's staff believed the Chinese units departing Shanghai would mount a stand immediately west of the city, probably a defensive line running from Jiading to Huangduzhen. On the night of November 11th, Matsui issued a command to all units in the Shanghai area to advance west along the railway towards Nanjing. Their first objective would be a line extending from Taicang to Kunshan. Chiang Kai-Shek was not only reeling from military defeats, but also the gradual loss of his German allies. The Germans were increasingly aligning with the Japanese. Chiang Kai-Shek was looking for new external help, so he turned to the Soviets. It was a marriage of convenience, Chiang Kai-Shek signed a non-aggression pact with the USSR that year and wasted no time pleading for aircraft and pilots. Moscow began sending them before the ink touched the paper. 200 aircraft and pilots in return for some essential minerals, wolfram and tungsten. The Sino-Soviet friendship even drew in an unlikely source of support, Sir Winston Churchill. The Soviet envoy to the UK described how during a meeting with Churchill “he greatly praised our tactics in the Far East: maintenance of neutrality and simultaneous aid to China in weaponry.” Soviet pilots found themselves dispatched to Nanjing where they were briefed by Yakov Vladimirovich Smushkevich, the deputy commander of the Soviet Air Force. “The Japanese armed forces are technically superior to the Chinese. The Chinese Air Force is a particular concern. Soviet pilots who have rushed to China's aid are currently in Nanjing. They are fighting valiantly.” Meanwhile back at Shanghai discipline and order that had characterized previous Chinese withdrawal had collapsed. Simply put, there were hundreds of thousands of men trying to retreat across the lower Yangtze region, it was a shitstorm. Many units had to disengage during combat with the enemy and scramble to pull out. Huang Qixiang, the deputy commander of the Chinese right flank in Shanghai, executed a strategic withdrawal moments before his command post succumbed to the advancing enemy forces. Just fifteen minutes after his departure, the area was overrun by Japanese troops. In a desperate bid to avoid capture, another general had to cross a creek, nearly drowning in the process. Rescued while barely clinging to life and drenched in icy water, he was welcomed by a peasant family who aided in his recovery before he resumed his arduous journey westward. The scale of this withdrawal, occurring both day and night, could hardly escape the enemy's notice, and its complexity made the operation increasingly difficult. The execution of the withdrawal exacerbated the situation significantly. Orders to abandon their positions started to trickle down immediately after the upper command made the decision. However, these orders reached the units in a disorganized manner. Many telephone lines had been sabotaged, and when soldiers were sent to relay the orders in person, they faced severe disruptions in the transportation network. Consequently, many units only became aware of the withdrawal when they witnessed the mass movements of their comrades heading westward. Upon realizing what was happening, many soldiers fled in a state of panic. There were no comprehensive plans outlining the retreat, no designated routes for the various units, nor any established timetables. The outcome was a chaotic scramble for survival. Soldiers who had fought side by side for three months suddenly found themselves competing against one another in a desperate race to escape. At bridges and other chokepoints, weary soldiers exhausted their last reserves of strength, brawling with their fellow troops to be the first to cross. Meanwhile, officers traveling in chauffeur-driven cars attempted to assert their rank to gain priority access to the roads, adding to the growing disorder that ensued. The massive army was hindered by its sheer size, resulting in miles of congested roads filled with men unable to move in any direction. This made them easy targets for Japanese aircraft, leading to a bloody cycle of repeated attacks. Planes adorned with the red Rising Sun insignia would emerge from the horizon, swooping down to strike at these vulnerable formations. As commander Chen Yiding recalled “The lack of organization and the gridlocked roads resulted in far more casualties than could have been avoided,”.  On November 12th, the newspaper Zhaongyang Ribao, published an editorial addressing the citizens of Nanjing, to remind them that tough times lay ahead now that Shanghai had fallen. The article stipulated they needed to prepare the city for the upcoming battle,  “Now, all the citizenry of the capital must fulfill their duty in a way that can serve as a model for the entire nation.” Nanjing in 1937 was a city touched by the war, but not enough to change the social fabric just yet. Cinema's remained open, the shopping arcade was crowded as usual, traffic was heavy along Zhongshan Road, order remained. Telephones remained on, except during air raids. Connections to the outside world functioned as they should, given this was the capital. The region had seen a good harvest in 1937, no one was going hungry. However as the front 200 miles away drew closer, bombing raids more frequent, fear of the enemy increased. Contact with the outside world gradually declined. By mid November the train link from Nanjing to Shanghai was severed.  While the fear amongst the populace increased, so did a newfound sense of common purpose against a common enemy. Poster calling for the Chinese to unite against the Japanese invaders were found throughout Nanjing. Residents were conscripted for various fortification efforts, with some receiving basic military training to help defend the city. Those who refused to cooperate faced severe penalties as “traitors,” while the majority willingly participated. Both military and civilian police were deployed throughout the city, diligently checking identities in an ongoing effort to root out spies and traitors. The authorities enforced a strict prohibition against discussing military matters in restaurants and other public venues. Then all the high ranking military officials and politicians families gradually began departing the city in secrecy. This was followed by said politicians and military officials. Twas not a good look. Nanjing soon saw its population decline from 1 million to half a million. Those who stayed behind were mainly the poor, or those anchored, like shopkeepers. Every day saw a steady stream of Nanjing citizens leaving the city over her main roads, fleeing into the countryside with carts full of belongings. On November 12th at 10am orders were issued for the Japanese to advance west. What had been a war of attrition, where inches of land were claimed with blood, suddenly it was a war of movement. As one Japanese soldier recalled “In the course of 50 days, I had moved only two miles. Now suddenly we were experiencing rapid advance”. As the Japanese came across small towns, they found large posters plastered on all the walls. These were all anti-japanese with some nationalist propaganda. The Japanese soldiers would tear them down and paint up their own messages “down with Chiang Kai-Shek!”.  Towns and cities west of Shanghai fell rapidly one after another, each succumbing to a grim pattern: swift conquest followed by widespread devastation. Jiading, a county seat with a population of approximately 30,000, succumbed to a prolonged siege. When the 10st division captured Jiading on November 13, after relentless shelling had leveled a third of the city, they began a massacre, indiscriminately killing nearly everyone in their path, men, women, and children alike. The battle and its aftermath resulted in over 8,000 casualties among the city's residents and surrounding countryside. One Japanese soldier referred to Jiading as “A city of death, in a mysteriously silent world in which the only sound was the tap of our own footsteps”.  On November 14, soldiers from the 9th Division reached Taicang, an ancient walled city designed to withstand lengthy sieges. As they crossed the 70-foot moat amid heavy fire, the Japanese troops confronted the formidable 20-foot-high city wall. After breaching the wall, their infantry swiftly entered the city and seized control. The destruction persisted long after the fighting ceased, with half of the city being devastated, including significant cultural institutions like the library, and salt and grain reserves were looted. It was as if the Japanese aimed to obliterate not just the material existence of the people but their spiritual foundation as well.  Casual cruelty marked the nature of warfare along the entire front, with few prisoners being taken. Ishii Seitaro, a soldier in the 13th Division's 26th Brigade, encountered a mass execution while marching alongside the Yangtze River. Several headless corpses floated nearby, yet three Chinese prisoners remained alive. A Japanese officer, personally overseeing the execution, wore a simple uniform, but the two ornate swords at his belt indicated his wealthy background. Approaching one prisoner, the officer dramatically drew one of the swords and brandished it through the air with exaggerated flair. In an almost theatrical display, he held it aloft, the blade trembling as if he were nervous. The prisoner, in stark contrast, exhibited an unnerving calmness as he knelt, awaiting his inevitable fate. The officer swung the sword down but failed to deliver a clean strike. Although he inflicted a deep gash to the prisoner's skull, it was not fatal. The prisoner collapsed, thrashing and emitting a prolonged scream that sent chills through those present. The officer, seemingly exhilarated by the anguish he caused, began wildly slashing at the figure until the screams subsided. Ishii turned away in horror, his mind swirling with confusion. Why were the Chinese being executed? Had they not surrendered?  Three months into the war's expansion to the Yangtze region, air raids had become an all too frequent menace in Nanjing. The first major raid came on August 15th and increased each week. On the night of August 27, approximately 30 bombs were dropped on Purple Mountain, specifically targeting the Memorial Park for Sun Yat-sen, aiming to hurt the morale of Nanjing's residents. As days melted into weeks and weeks stretched into months, the landscape of Nanjing transformed under the weight of war. Residents began constructing dugouts in courtyards, gardens, public squares, and even on streets. Foreigners painted their national flags on top of buildings and vehicles, attempting to avoid the risk of being machine-gunned by strafing aircraft. Each raid followed a predictable routine: sirens wailed loudly 20 to 30 minutes before the attack, signaling pedestrians to seek shelter and drivers to stop their engines. By the time a shorter warning sounded, the streets had to be cleared, leaving nothing to do but await the arrival of Japanese planes. Initially, the part-US-trained Chinese Air Force posed a considerable threat to Japanese bombers. The 4th and 5th Chinese Squadrons, stationed near Nanjing to defend the capital, achieved early success, reportedly downing six bombers during the first air raid on Nanjing. Much of the credit for these aerial victories belonged to Claire Chennault, a retired American Army Air Corps captain who had become an advisor to the Chinese Air Force, overseeing Nanjing's air defense. Chennault taught his pilots tactics he had developed in the US but had never fully implemented. His strategy was straightforward: three fighters would focus on one enemy bomber at a time. One would attack from above, another from below, while a third would hover in reserve to deliver the final blow if necessary. He instructed the Chinese pilots to target the engines rather than the fuselage, reasoning that any missed shots could hit the gas tanks located in the wing roots. This approach proved successful, leading to the loss of 54 Japanese planes within three days. For Chennault, it validated his belief that air superiority required a diverse range of aircraft, not just bombers. Nighttime raids, however, posed a greater challenge. Chennault, along with other commanders, sought solutions. Chinese General C.C. Wong, a German-trained artillery officer overseeing the country's anti-aircraft defenses, ensured that dozens of large Sperry searchlights were positioned throughout Nanjing in a grid pattern. This setup had a dual purpose: it would dazzle the Japanese bomber crews and highlight their planes in silhouette for Chinese fighters above to target. The bravery of the most skilled Chinese pilots occasionally gained media attention, making them local celebrities amidst an otherwise grim war environment. However, this bright moment faded quickly when the Japanese command decided to provide escorts for their bombers. Consequently, the elite of China's air force, its finest pilots and aircraft, were lost within weeks that fall. All air raids were brutal, but the worst assaults occurred at the end of September. As a radio broadcaster reported on September 25th “Gallons of civilian blood flowed today as Nanking endured three ferocious air raids”. In total, 96 Japanese sorties were launched on that day. Witnesses observed around a dozen Chinese aircraft retreating north across the Yangtze, initially believing they were fleeing, but some returned to confront the enemy. When Chinese fighters managed to down a Japanese bomber, the streets erupted in cheers as civilians momentarily forgot their fear. The primary aim of the September 25 attack appeared to be spreading terror among the civilian population. Chiang Kai-Shek wrote in his diary that day  “The repeated Japanese air raids over the past several days have had no impact on our military installations. Instead, civilian property has sustained significant damage.” Around 20 bombs struck the Central Hospital, one of Nanjing's largest medical facilities, causing extensive destruction and prompting the evacuation of its staff. Two 1,000-pound bombs exploded nearby, leaving large craters. Had these bombs landed slightly closer, they could have resulted in mass casualties among the hospital's 100 patients, including a Japanese pilot who had been shot down earlier that month. The air raids at the end of September prompted protests from the Americans, British, and French governments to Japan. In response, Tokyo issued a statement on September 30, asserting that while they were not intentionally targeting non-combatants, it was “unavoidable” for achieving military objectives that military airfields and installations in and around Nanjing be bombed.   The battle for Jiashan was among the fiercest in the southern Yangtze delta campaign in November 1937. Although Jiashan was a moderately sized town straddling a crucial railway connecting Shanghai to Hangzhou, the capital of Zhejiang province. For the Japanese, seizing Jiashan was imperative for their westward advance; without it, their military progress would be severely hampered. Jiashan had endured three days of relentless bombing by the Japanese Air Force, driving most residents to flee into the surrounding countryside. Only about 100 remained, those who were too old or too sick to escape, abandoned by family or friends who lacked the means to assist them. The Japanese troops brutally bayoneted nearly all of these individuals and buried them in a mass grave just outside the town's northern gate. Jiashan was captured by the 10th Army, a division fresh from victories and eager to engage in combat, unlike the weary forces of the Shanghai Expeditionary Force further north. With less than a week of combat experience, the 10th Army's soldiers were hungry for a fight. The martial spirit of the 10th Army was exemplified by its commander, Yanagawa Heisuke. Born near Nagasaki in 1879, he was among a group of retired officers called back to active service as the war in China escalated unexpectedly. Having served in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-1905 and taught at the Beijing Army College in 1918, Yanagawa had considerable experience in military affairs. However, his past exposure to China did not cultivate any empathy for the enemy. He was determined to push all the way to Nanjing, and once there, he intended to blanket the city in mustard gas and incendiaries until it capitulated. While Japanese commanders debated the value of capturing Nanjing, the Chinese were equally preoccupied with whether it was worth defending. Most military professionals viewed the situation as a lost cause from the start. After the fall of Shanghai, Chiang Kai-shek summoned one of his top commanders, Chen Cheng, to Nanjing for discussions. “How can Nanjing be held?” Chen Cheng shot back “Are you ordering me to hold Nanjing?” Chiang replied “I am not”. Chen Cheng stated frankly, “I believe Nanjing should not be held at all.” By mid-November, Bai Chongxi, one of China's most respected generals, advocated for declaring Nanjing an open city. He argued that defending it was not only unnecessary but also impossible. All available forces had been deployed to Shanghai and were now exhausted. Furthermore, no reinforcements would be forthcoming if they made a stand in Nanjing. Instead of stubbornly clinging to fixed positions, he preferred a more flexible defensive strategy. Zhang Qun, Chiang's secretary, supported Bai's stance, believing that while Nanjing should ultimately be abandoned, political considerations were paramount. If the Chinese simply withdrew and allowed the Japanese to occupy the city, it would undermine China's position in any future negotiations. The Japanese would not be able to present themselves as victors who had triumphed in battle. Similarly, Chiang's chief military advisor, General Alexander von Falkenhausen, was against attempting to hold Nanjing. He deemed it “useless from a military perspective, suggesting it would be madness.” He warned that if Chiang forced his army into a decisive battle with their backs to the Yangtze River, “a disaster would probably be unavoidable.” Chiang's head of the operations bureau Liu Fei argued Nanjing could not be abandoned without a fight as it would crush the NRA's morale. He believed that defending the city could be managed with as few as 12 regiments, although 18 would be feasible. Most at the meeting agreed and Chiang understood Nanjing's international recognition necessitated some form of defense, doomed or not. A second meeting was formed whereupon, Tang Shengzhi, a general staff officer whose loyalties were, lets be honest very flip floppy. During the warlord era, he routinely switched sides, especially against Chiang Kai-Shek. At the meeting Tang stated in regards to Nanjing's international prominence and being the final resting place of Dr Sun Yat-Sen “How can we face the spirit of the former president in heaven? We have no choice but to defend the capital to the death.” Chiang's commanders were all well aware of his intentions. The generalissimo was eager for a dramatic last stand in Nanjing to serve propaganda purposes, aiming to rally the nation and convey to the world that China was resolute in its fight against Japan. His commanders also recognized the rationale behind fighting for Nanjing; however, very few were inclined to embark on what seemed a likely suicide mission. The third meeting occurred the day after the second. Chiang opened by asking, as many anticipated, “Who is willing to shoulder the burden of defending Nanjing?” An awkward silence followed. Then Tang Shengzhi stepped forward. “Chairman, if no one else is willing, I will. I'm prepared to defend Nanjing and to hold it to the death.” Without hesitation, Chiang accepted his offer. “Good, the responsibility is yours.”A little refresher on Tang, he had played a role in Chiang Kai-shek's efforts to unify China by force in the 1920s, when the nation was a patchwork of fiefdoms. However, their relationship had soured on two occasions, forcing Tang into temporary exile, first to Japan and then to Hong Kong. The Japanese invasion of northeastern China in 1931 prompted a loose reconciliation, and since then, Tang had held several important positions, notably organizing war games simulating a Japanese assault on Nanjing. However Tang had often suffered from illness, and crucially, he had not led troops in the field against the Japanese since the onset of full-scale war that summer. Hailing from Hunan province, he was a typical provincial soldier and would likely face challenges commanding respect among elite divisions loyal solely to the central government in Nanjing. He was definitely not the first choice for such a significant task.  Amazingly, while tens of thousands of Chinese and Japanese were killing each other, while Japanese planes relentlessly bombarded Chinese cities including the capital, and while Japanese soldiers committed heinous atrocities against Chinese civilians, the two nations maintained diplomatic relations. China had a fully operational embassy in Tokyo, led by Xu Shiying, a 65-year-old diplomat. This surreal arrangement persisted because neither side was willing to officially declare war. In the fall of 1937, as Japanese armies were heavily engaged on two fronts within mainland China, Xu met with Japanese Foreign Minister Hirota Koki to propose a non-aggression treaty. The proposal was swiftly rejected in Nanjing. By November 1937, Xu was no longer at the forefront of events, and foreign observers shifted their focus from the capitals of the warring nations to Belgium. While large-scale battles raged along the lower Yangtze, representatives from 19 countries convened in Brussels to search for a way to end hostilities. Although China participated in the conference, Japan did not. Japan had received two invitations to join the talks, with its response to the second arriving in Brussels on November 12: a firm rejection. Japan asserted that it preferred direct bilateral negotiations with China, dismissing the Brussels conference held under the auspices of the Nine-Power Treaty, a pact signed in 1922 aimed at ensuring China's national sovereignty and territorial integrity. Japan argued that intervention by a collective body like the conference “would merely stir national sentiments in both countries and complicate efforts to reach a mutually satisfactory resolution.” The League of Nations had called for a Nine-Power conference a month earlier, which ultimately became a 19-power conference as other nations with interests in East Asia joined. From the outset, Japan opposed the assembly and was absent when the first plenary meeting commenced in Brussels on November 3. Japanese leaders feared that China might attempt to leverage the conference against Western powers, recalling how, in 1895, Japan had been denied its spoils following its first modern war with China due to the intervention of Russia, France, and Germany, who blocked Japan from claiming the strategic Liaodong Peninsula adjacent to Korea. China also exhibited a lukewarm attitude toward the conference. While Japan feared the potential outcomes, China was concerned about the lack of significant results. The proposal to transition discussions from the League of Nations, perceived as ineffective, to the even less authoritative Nine Powers, which lacked formal organization. Nonetheless, the Chinese chose to participate in Brussels, maintaining the pretense that something meaningful could be accomplished. Shortly after Japan's second rejection of the invitation, Wellington Koo made an impassioned plea in Brussels, stating, “Now that the door to conciliation and mediation has been slammed in your face by the latest reply of the Japanese Government, will you not decide to withhold supplies of war materials and credit to Japan and extend aid to China?” In reality, Koo understood that significant Western aid to China was highly unlikely, aside from token gestures. Previous international discussions had momentarily halted Japanese advances in the past; for instance, in 1932, Japanese troops had paused their movements in the Shanghai area just hours before the League of Nations General Assembly commenced. However, that was nearly six years earlier, and circumstances had changed dramatically since then. Rogue states had grown bolder, while democracies seemed increasingly timid. Thus, the Chinese agenda in Brussels was not primarily driven by hopes for substantial Western concessions. Instead, the delegates had been tasked by Nanjing to anticipate the post-conference landscape and to actively seek ways to encourage Europe and America to support Soviet military action against Japan.   China, long reliant on Germany as a diplomatic partner, increasingly felt betrayed, not just by Germany, but also by its fascist ally, Italy. Consequently, it began looking more favorably upon the Soviet Union, Japan's archrival in Northeast Asia, as its main source of international support. The Soviet Union exhibited a firmer stance than the Western democracies at the Brussels conference, joining China in advocating for collective security in Europe and Asia. On November 15th, a small group of officers from the 10th Army gathered for late-night discussions in an abandoned building north of Hangzhou Bay, where they would effectively decide the fate of China. Yanagawa Heisuke, the commander of the 10th Army, presided over the discussions. Fresh from the battlefield since the beginning of the month, he was eager to escalate the fight, a sentiment echoed among the others. It was an unusual meeting, where officers as low in rank as major were making decisions typically reserved for the highest echelons of political power. The agenda included a pivotal question: Should they adhere to Order No. 600 received from Tokyo a week prior, which instructed them to halt their advance along a line from Suzhou to Jiaxing? Or, should they disregard these explicit orders and push forward to seize Nanjing? While the Japanese Army had failed to completely annihilate the Chinese forces around Shanghai, there was a consensus that their adversary was now reeling from recent setbacks, presenting an opportune moment to strike decisively and secure a swift victory. The only remaining question was how aggressively to pursue this goal. Colonel Terada Masao, a senior staff officer within the 10th Army, spoke first. “The Chinese Army is currently retreating toward the capital. We should cross that line and pursue the enemy straight to Nanjing.” Major Iketani Hanjiro, a staff officer recently attached to the fast-moving 6th Division, then offered his input “From a tactical perspective, I completely agree with Terada that we should cross the line, but the decision to attack Nanjing should be considered not just tactically, but also politically. It's not that field commanders can't create a fait accompli to pressure our superiors in Tokyo. However, we must proceed with great caution”. A staff officer raised this question  “What if Tokyo orders us to pull back those smaller units?” Iketani responded “In that case, we will, of course, withdraw them to this side of the line”. Ultimately, Iketani's cautions were set aside, and Terada's aggressive approach prevailed. The majority agreed that the tactical circumstances presented a rare opportunity. Japanese troops in the Shanghai area were poised to advance west, not through small, individual skirmishes but with a substantial deployment of their forces. Officers estimated that if a decisive push was made immediately, Nanjing could fall into Japanese hands within 20 days. However Colonel Kawabe Torashiro, the newly appointed chief of the Army General Staff's Operations Section suddenly arrived at the theater. He was sent on a mission to assess whether the Central China Area Army should be granted greater operational freedom. It was well known in Tokyo that field officers were eager to capitalize on the momentum created by the collapse of Chinese defenses around Shanghai. Kawabe's task was to explore the possibility of allowing forces to cross the line from Suzhou to Jiaxing and move westward in pursuit of the retreating enemy. However, Kawabe was staunchly opposed to further military adventures in China. Kawabe was part of the dwindling faction of "China doves" within the Japanese military. As early as the summer of 1937, he had become alarmed by a letter from a civilian Japanese visitor to the Chinese mainland, warning that Japanese officers were attempting to engineer an “incident” with China to provoke open conflict. This would provide Japan with a pretext to expand its influence in northern China. Kawabe had attempted to alert his superiors, but his warnings fell on deaf ears. They had been lulled into a false sense of security by reports from China that dismissed all talk of war-mongering as baseless and alarmist. When he arrived to the front he stated “I am here to inspect conditions on the ground so that a final decision can be made on where to establish the operational restriction line”. Alongside him came General Akira Muto, recently appointed the commander of the Central China Area Army. He also happened to be one of the architects of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. Muto responded promptly: “The line currently stretches from Suzhou to Jiaxing, but we should consider crossing it. This will help us achieve our overall objectives in the theater.” Muto continued, arguing that the 10th Army should be permitted to advance to Huzhou, south of Lake Tai, effectively cutting off communications between Nanjing and the strategic city of Hangzhou. He further claimed that the Shanghai Expeditionary Force should be allowed to capture the vital city of Jiangyin, suggesting, perhaps overly optimistically, that its loss could lead to the fall of Chiang Kai-shek. Ultimately, Muto insisted, Nanjing should also be seized, which he asserted would bring an end to the war. Kawabe listened patiently, a practice he would repeat in the following days as other field officers echoed similar sentiments, eagerly expressing their desire to advance all the way to Nanjing. Yanagawa and his 10th Army exemplified this aggressive mindset. Nevertheless, just as the hawks within the Japanese military and the nation's political leadership appeared to be prevailing in the struggle over China policy, they faced unexpected challenges from a different direction. Germany, a power with ambiguous sympathies in East Asia, was quietly engaged in negotiations aimed at bringing peace. Oskar Trautmann, Germany's ambassador to China, had maintained an objective and neutral stance when he met with Chiang Kai-shek in early November to relay Japan's conditions for initiating peace talks. These conditions included extensive concessions in northern China, such as the withdrawal of all Chinese troops to a line south of Beijing and the establishment of a pro-Japanese regime in Inner Mongolia, bordering the Soviet-controlled Mongolian People's Republic. Chiang dismissed these demands outright, but Trautmann and his superiors in Beijing continued their top-secret efforts. Germany's motivation for seeking an end to the Sino-Japanese War was not rooted in a genuine love for peace, but rather in their embarrassment over witnessing their old Asian ally, China, fighting against their new partner, Japan. Herman Göring, president of the Reichstag and a leading figure in the Nazi party, told a Chinese visitor, “China and Japan are both friends of Germany. The Sino-Japanese War has put Germany between Scylla and Charybdis. That's why Germany is ready to seize the chance to become a mediator.” Germany also feared that a prolonged conflict in China could jeopardize its commercial interests in East Asia and weaken Japan's capacity to confront the Soviet Union, potentially freeing Moscow to allocate more resources to a fight in Europe. In essence, continued hostilities could significantly harm Germany. Japanese field commanders were frustrated by Germany's mediation efforts.  When news of Trautmann's mission leaked, the German diplomat faced severe criticism in the Chinese media, which deemed any negotiation with the "Japanese devils" unacceptable. Additionally, there was the matter of China's ties with the Soviet Union; employing a German mediator raised the possibility of cooperation among China, Japan, and Germany, potentially expanding the anti-Soviet bloc, which would, in turn, pressure Moscow to increase its support for China. By mid-November, however, the complexities of this diplomatic game started unraveling and then Japan took action. At 7:00 am on November 19, Yanagawa issued instructions to his troops in the field. “The enemy's command system is in disarray, and a mood of defeat has descended over their entire army. They have lost the will to fight. The main Chinese forces were retreating west of the line stretching from Suzhou to Jiaxing, and this withdrawal was soon likely to spiral into a full-scale retreat. We must not miss the opportunity to pursue the enemy to Nanjing.” 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. Shanghai had fallen, and the Japanese forces pursued their fleeing enemy further west. However they had orders to halt, but would they? Officers from top down deliberating on the issue, with the vast majority pushing for a drive to Nanjing. They thought it represented the end objective of the conflict. They would all be very wrong. 

Last time we spoke about the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. On July 7, 1937, tensions escalated between Japan and China as the Japanese military conducted a training exercise near the Marco Polo Bridge. During the exercise, gunfire erupted, sowing confusion and leading to the unexplained disappearance of one soldier. This incident prompted Japan to demand permission to search the nearby city of Wanping, which was denied by Chinese forces, escalating tensions further. By the next day, Japanese troops attacked, resulting in fierce fighting at the bridge. Under heavy assault, Chinese defenders fought valiantly but faced overwhelming force. As the conflict intensified, both sides struggled with heavy casualties, leading to the full-scale Sino-Japanese War. The Japanese military's aggressive maneuvers and the determined Chinese resistance marked the beginning of a brutal conflict, forever altering the landscape of East Asia. The profound toll on both nations foreshadowed the horrors of war that were to come, as China prepared to defend its sovereignty against a relentless enemy.   #155 Operation Chahar 1937 Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. By the end of July of 1937 the Japanese had overwhelmed the Beiping-Tianjin region. It's pretty understandable as to how this came so fast. As we have discussed thoroughly in this series, the Japanese had gradually seized control over Northern China going back to Operation Nekka in 1933. Little by little they had carved it out. Typically when you pull out a map of a war between two nations, one nation pierces into the other and gradually seizes control of key locations until it archives victory. However with the case of the outset of the Second Sino-Japanese War its more like the Japanese are starting at multiple key locations where they have concessions, treaties or where there are autonomous regions. Thus its honestly a huge headache to follow. When the Marco Polo Bridge Incident broke out, Chiang Kai-Shek had been in Kuling, a mountain top resort where he spent his summer vacations. He received the news with composure, but his message to the nation conveyed a sense of optimism and anticipation. The embarrassment of the Sian mutiny was a thing of the past. Although he wasn't overly confident, he believed that this was the pivotal moment China had been preparing for, more so than at any time in recent years. For nearly three weeks, efforts were made to resolve the situation through diplomatic means. For the first time, Chiang was in a position to make demands. He understood they would likely be rejected, but that wasn't the main point. He asked Japan to acknowledge its responsibility for the recent turmoil, to issue an apology, and to provide compensation. After making that request, he addressed his nation with a formal commitment: China would not accept any settlement that compromised its sovereign rights or territorial integrity. No changes would be permitted regarding the status of the Hubei-Chahar Council, and local officials would not be reassigned at the request of any foreign government. Any restrictions on the Twenty-ninth Army's positions would be unacceptable. He declared that the era of Japanese expansion in North China had come to a definitive end. The Japanese army achieved significant victories on the battlefield in China, leading to the inevitable expansion of the conflict. The first major campaign following the Nanyuan victory unfolded along the mountainous border marked by the inner Great Wall, separating northern Hubei from Chahar. On the Jinpu Railway, just south of Tianjin, lies a small station known as Jinghai. Adjacent to this station is the Jian River, which had swollen to a width of 20 meters due to intermittent heavy rains in northern China after the Japanese army's occupation of Tianjin. The embankments on either side of the river were overgrown with dense reeds and grass, and a wooden arch bridge spanned the river. After landing at Dagukou in Tianjin, the 10th Division, commanded by Lieutenant General Rensuke Isogai, advanced south along the Jinpu Railway. However, as the vanguard, the 10th Regiment of the 33rd Brigade made its way through the muddy terrain towards the Jian River's wooden bridge, they were suddenly taken aback. A group of Chinese soldiers appeared, their faces vividly painted red and armed with long-handled broadswords, a sight reminiscent of the legendary Chinese figure Guan Yu, as depicted in many traditional portraits. These soldiers belonged to the 26th Independent Brigade of the 38th Division of the 29th Army, who were in retreat from Tianjin. Following the city's fall, they had retreated southward to Jinghai Station, where they prepared to make a stand. Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan recognized their inferior numbers and weaponry compared to the Japanese forces. Drawing from painful lessons learned during the positional battles in Tianjin, he decided to divide his troops strategically: one battalion would defend the station, another would protect the county town, and a third would engage in guerrilla tactics along the Jinpu Road. If faced with a small number of Japanese soldiers, they would fight fiercely; if overwhelmed, they would attempt to encircle the attackers to prevent a direct assault on their main position. Despite the Japanese army's attempts to advance, including efforts to send an armored train into Jinghai Station, the Chinese soldiers cleverly laid straw on the tracks and buried mines, thwarting the train's progress. Once Japanese troops disembarked to mount an offensive, they were ambushed by the battalion executing guerrilla tactics, resulting in a chaotic retreat that left behind several dozen casualties. Over the course of weeks, the divisional headquarters ordered a battalion of Japanese troops to move south along the Jinpu Road, requiring them to cross the Jian River at the wooden bridge. The 26th Independent Brigade was assigned to halt this advance, and they managed to hold their ground for over 20 days. Recognizing the gravity of their situation, Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan gathered his group and battalion commanders to emphasize the necessity of pushing back the Japanese forces. He passionately rallied them, declaring, “We must defend this river to the death. Each regiment will select a death squad. Each member will carry a long-handled broadsword and four grenades, paint their faces red and rush across the bridge to engage in melee combat!” When Li asked for volunteers to lead the death squad, the regiment commander, Zhu, eagerly stepped forward, quickly gathering a group that followed him, uniting passionately in their cause. The death squad charged across the bridge, catching the Japanese off guard with their war paint and weapons. The sudden attack left the Japanese soldiers dazed, leading to a chaotic retreat as they struggled through the muddy terrain. In the tumult, more than 200 long-handled swords struck down a significant number of Japanese troops. Those advancing from behind panicked at the sight of their retreating comrades. An officer, dismounted during the chaos, was left behind, and the Chinese soldiers, filled with zeal, pressed forward, ignoring the orders from Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan to fall back for their own safety. Despite moments of heroism, many fell that day by the Jian River, as the officers and soldiers burned their boats and set fire to the wooden bridge, rendering retreat impossible. As the Japanese military consolidated its power in the Pingjin region, many leaders underestimated the tenacity of Chinese resistance. Plans were made to defeat the Chinese army and air force swiftly, aiming to resolve the issue in North China decisively, with no diplomatic negotiations or external interventions allowed during military operations. Now, in late July to early August, Chiang Kai-shek issued orders to improve defenses at Nankou. He mobilized Tang Enbo's 13th Army in Suidong for battle readiness, tasked Liu Ruming to sabotage railways, and directed Fu Zuoyi and Yan Xishan in Suiyuan to prepare for conflict. Troops were reorganized rapidly, with divisions merging to strengthen the 17th Army under Liu Ruming's command. Chiang insisted that Nankou's defenses be deep and wide to thwart enemy cavalry and tank assaults, rendering Japanese mechanized advantages ineffective. He called for close cooperation among commanders and a resolute defense. Tang Enbo's 13th Army, consisted of the 4th and 89th Divisions, whom established defensive positions along the Peiping-Suiyuan Railway at Nankou, with additional units positioned further back at Juyongguan. The 13th Army, was 20,000 men strong, all motivated soldiers committed to fighting the Japanese, but their equipment was woefully inadequate. The 89th Division had a few outdated artillery pieces, whilst other units were in even worse condition, hampering their effectiveness against the well-armed Japanese forces. Liu's 17th Army stationed its 84th Division at Chihcheng, Yanqing, and Longguan, effectively securing the flank of the 13th Army against potential Japanese advances from Chahar. The 21st Division was deployed in Huailai, situated along the railway to the rear of Tang's forces. Additionally, Zhao Chengshou's 1st Cavalry Army, Liu 's 143rd Division, and two Peace Preservation Brigades commenced an offensive against Mongol forces in northern Chahar. As the Japanese launched initial assaults on Nankou on August 4, fierce fighting erupted. The Chinese defenders fought valiantly, but heavy bombardments by artillery and air raids took a toll. The Japanese began using tanks to support their infantry, yet the 530th Regiment successfully repelled an attack at Deshengkou. Meanwhile, the Japanese intensified their efforts, culminating in poison gas assaults that overwhelmed Chinese positions on Longhutai, leading to significant losses. Despite the escalating pressure and casualties, the determination to hold Nankou was unwavering. On August 5, the Kwantung Army requested permission for the advance guard to move to Changpei, arguing that the Central Army's invasion of Chahar had jeopardized the security of Manchukuo. This request was denied, yet the advance guard proceeded to Changpei on August 8. This unauthorized movement by the Kwantung Army was a serious act of defiance, as Tolun lay outside Manchukuo's borders, and troop deployments required imperial authorization. Although imperial sanction had been obtained for the move to Tolun on July 28, permission for the advance guard to proceed was only granted retroactively, with the stipulation that they would not advance further into Inner Mongolia. Nevertheless, this unauthorized action ultimately compelled the high command to approve the advance to Changpei. On August 7, the Japanese army launched a large assault on Nankou with its three main divisions, aiming to breach the Great Wall and advance westward along the Pingsui Railway to flank the strategic city of Shanxi. By August 8, the Japanese forces that had captured Beiping and Tianjin deployed the entire 20th Division, commanded by Lieutenant General Kawagishi Fumisaburo, and supplemented their efforts with the 5th and 10th Divisions, along with the Sakai Brigade, to attack Nankou along the Pingsui Railway. On August 8, the Japanese 11th Independent Mixed Brigade, led by General Shigiyasu Suzuki, initiated an attack on the left flank of the 13th Corps' position at Nankou. However, their efforts were halted after three days due to challenging terrain and the determined resistance from Chinese forces.  On the same day, Chiang Kai-shek ordered the activation of the 14th Group Army, comprising the 10th, 83rd, and 85th Divisions, under General Wei Lihuang. Elements of the 14th Group Army traveled by rail from Yingchia-chuang to Yi County and then embarked on a ten-day march through the plains west of Beiping to flank and support Tang Enbo's forces. Meanwhile, the Chinese 1st Army Region launched attacks against the Japanese in Liangxiang and Chaili to divert their attention and dispatched a detachment to Heilung Pass to cover the advance of the 14th Group Army. On August 9, the central high command ordered the China Garrison Army to eliminate resistance in the area and instructed Kwantung Army Commander Ueda Kenkichi to send reinforcements from Jehol and Inner Mongolia to support the operation. The China Garrison Army deployed its 11th Independent Mixed Brigade and the 5th Division, recently arrived from Hiroshima under Lieutenant-General Itagaki Seishirö, to launch an attack on the mountainous regions around Nankou and Pataling within the Great Wall. Following intense fighting, they succeeded in crossing into Chahar.    The Kwantung Army aimed to conquer Chahar and, upon receiving approval from the Japanese General Staff, established an expeditionary headquarters on August 14, led by its chief of staff, Lieutenant General Tojo Hideki. Yes that Tojo. Tokyo's objective was to secure the strategic flank of Manchukuo, while the Kwantung Army sought to create puppet regimes in northern China and integrate the occupied territories into a Japanese sphere of influence. The Chahar Expeditionary Force comprised three mixed brigades, including Japan's only fully mechanized unit, which was equipped with medium tanks, heavy and light armored vehicles, and light tanks. The Japanese troops shifted their main attack toward Zhangjiakou via the Pingsui Railway due to pressures from the Kwantung Army eager to occupy Inner Mongolia, Suiyuan, and Chahar. They sought to eliminate threats from the rear before launching further operations along the Pinghan Line and Jinpu Line. The 11th Independent Mixed Brigade of the 20th Division of the Chinese Garrison Army was ordered to assault Chinese defenders in the Nankou area, with the goal of capturing key locations on the Great Wall, like Badaling, to facilitate the Fifth Division's advance. The Chinese assessed the Japanese strategy, believing they would first secure critical points along the Pingsui route to facilitate further incursions into Shanxi and Zhengding. They understood that holding the Nankou line was vital for both logistical support and tactical maneuvering. Nankou, a key town on the Pingsui Railway connecting Beijing to Zhangjiakou and Baotou, was surrounded by mountains and the Great Wall, marking it a significant natural defense line. As the Japanese army aimed to capture Zhangjiakou and divide their forces into Shanxi and Suiyuan, the Chinese army's control over Nankou became crucial. A renewed assault on August 11, bolstered by tanks and aircraft, successfully captured Nankou Station, allowing General Suzuki's brigade to advance toward Juyong Pass. On August 12, Tang Enbo's army launched a counterattack, encircling the Japanese forces and severing their supply and communication lines. That day, Tang Enbo sent a telegram to Luo Fanggui: “Brother Fanggui, Commander Luo of the 529th Regiment, I have received your telegram. Your regiment has recently defeated formidable enemies, laying the groundwork for our army's future victories. Your efforts bring me great relief! The Nankou position is critical to our nation's war of resistance. Despite the enemy's numerical superiority and fierce artillery fire, we cannot surrender this area. It is our fighting spirit, not our numbers or advanced weaponry, that will help us withstand these powerful foes. We vow never to abandon our positions. Life is transient, and we must embrace our fate. A hero perishing on the battlefield is the glorious destiny of a soldier.” On the same day, he also sent a telegram to Wang Zhonglian: “Brother Jieren Wang, commander of the 89th Division, I have read your telegram. Brigade Li has triumphed against formidable foes, establishing a precedent for our army's victory. Your successes bring me much comfort! The Nankou position is our glorious objective. If I perish, the country lives on. If I survive, the country perishes. We would rather die defending this position than live in disgrace. Please convey to all the officers and soldiers of your division, who share in this struggle, the importance of striving for victory!” On August 13, Tang Enbo ordered the defensive positions at Nankou to be abandoned as the remaining troops pulled back to stronger positions at Badaling and Juyongguan. Renowned journalist Fan Changjiang noted Tang Enbo's physical and emotional toll, describing him as a mere shadow of his former self after enduring relentless battles without rest. His subsequent thoughts and fears reflected the despair of facing insurmountable odds, with the Japanese army overwhelming the Nankou defenses. Casualty reports from the Battle of Nankou reveal stark discrepancies; average estimates suggest Chinese losses neared 26,000, while Japanese casualties were around 2,600,an alarming ratio of 10 to 1. Despite the devastating defeat, Tang Enbo's leadership gained national recognition for his efforts, though he viewed the loss of Nankou as a blemish on an otherwise honorable defense. The indomitable spirit displayed during the relentless struggle at Nankou, despite the defeat and challenges faced, inspired a sense of resilience among the Chinese people, reminding them that even in dire circumstances, they would not yield to oppression. Meanwhile in response to having their supply and communication lines severed, on August 14, Seishirō Itagaki dispatched the 5th Division to relieve the 11th Independent Mixed Brigade at Juyonggua. Fu Zuoyi's troops attacked Chahar from Suidong. Dong Qiwu 's troops attacked Shangdu and recaptured it on the 14th, while Shi Yushan 's troops attacked Dehua and recaptured it on the 16th. By the 16, Itagaki had arrived at Nankou and initiated an enveloping assault targeting the right flank of the 13th Army, executing a five-pronged attack at Huanglaoyuan. In anticipation, the 7th Brigade of the 4th Division, commanded by Shi Jue, was positioned to counter this maneuver. Reinforcements, including Li Xianzhou's 21st Division and Zhu Huaibing's 94th Division, were brought in, resulting in several days of intense fighting. On August 17, General Yan Xishan, Director of the Taiyuan Pacification Headquarters, ordered the 7th Group Army, commanded by Fu Zuoyi, to move the 72nd Division and three additional brigades by rail from Datong to Huailai to support Tang Enbo's forces. Chiang Kai-shek urged steadfastness in the face of adversity, emphasizing that retreat was not an option. But with communication breakdowns and logistical challenges, Tang Enbo faced dilemmas that would lead him to issue the order for his troops to break out on August 26. As the Japanese army occupied Huailai and Yanqing, Tang Enbo's forces executed a withdrawal, retreating via various routes before suffering further losses.  Meanwhile Liu Ruming's troops of the 143rd Division of the 29th Army took Zhangbei from Zhangjiakou . Proceed to Wanquan Dam , the junction of Wanquan and Zhangbei. The members of the pseudo-Mongolian military government fled to Duolun under the leadership of King De . In order to relieve the danger in Zhangjiakou, Liu Ruming's troops began to attack the enemy in Zhangbei. On August 20, they captured key points such as Bolicai Village outside Zhangbei City. At this time, the mechanized troops of the Japanese Kwantung Army led by Hideki Tojo rushed from Rehe to support Zhangbei. When passing through Guyuan, they were divided into two groups: one group of Japanese troops, the Suzuki Brigade and Homma Brigade went south to attack Zhangjiakou. On the night of August 21, the Chinese army retreated to Shenweitai, 25 kilometers south of Zhangbei County. On August 22, the Japanese army began its attack. Shenwei Tower fell at midnight on the 23rd. At the same time, another part of the Japanese army launched a roundabout attack on Wanquan County. On the morning of August 24, they captured Wanquan County, and then headed straight for Zhangjiakou along the highway with an infantry regiment and an artillery battalion. From August 25 to 27, the Japanese army attacked Bajiaotai, the highest point of Cir Mountain west of Zhangjiakou. At noon on the 27th, Zhangjiakou fell. Gao Guizi's 17th Army marched to Dushikou to resist the enemy from Duolun Akagi and Longguan and intercepted the Pingsui Railway. Gao Guizi's troops failed to withstand the Japanese attack, and the 301st Regiment of the 29th Army stationed in Xuanhua also retreated southward. On August 28, Xuanhua fell into the hands of the enemy. Meanwhile, in northern Chahar, the Chinese 1st Cavalry Army successfully captured Shangdu, Nanhaochan, Shangyi, and Huade from the puppet Mongolian Army led by Demchugdongrub. Elements of the 143rd Division secured Zhongli, while the main force advanced to Zhangbei. During this Chinese offensive, the Japanese Chahar Expeditionary Force, consisting of the mechanized 1st Independent Mixed Brigade along with the 2nd and 15th Mixed Brigades, prepared for a counteroffensive from Zhangbei to Kalgan. Tojo personally commanded the units of the 1st Independent Mixed Brigade during Operation Chahar, which would serve as his only real combat service for his career. From August 18 to 19, the Chahar Expeditionary Force launched a counterattack from Zhangbei, capturing Shenweitaiko on the Great Wall and the Hanno Dam. The scattered and ill-equipped Chinese forces were unable to halt the Japanese advance, which now threatened the Peking–Suiyuan Railway at Kalgan. On August 20, General Fu Zuoyi's 7th Group Army diverted its 200th and 211th Brigades, which had been moving south by rail to join General Tang Enbo's forces, back to defend Kalgan. Fu's remaining 72nd Division arrived to reinforce Chenpien, while his 7th Separate Brigade was dispatched to protect the railhead at Huailai.On August 21, the Japanese forces breached the defenses at the villages of Henglingcheng and Chenbiancheng. General Tang Enbo's forces, awaiting reinforcements but having suffered over 50% casualties, continued to defend Huailai, Juyong Pass, and Yanqing. Liu Ruming's 143rd Division retreated to safeguard Kalgan from the advancing Japanese troops. On August 23, as Seishirō Itagaki's 5th Division advanced toward Huailai from Chenpien against Ma Yenshou's 7th Separate Brigade, advance elements of the 14th Army Group arrived on the Japanese flank at Chingpaikou. They successfully drove off the Japanese outpost and made contact with Japanese forces advancing toward Chenpien. However, delays in crossing the Yongding River postponed their attack until it was too late to halt the Japanese advance. Due to poor communications, they also failed to coordinate with General Tang Enbo's forces during the battle. After eight days and nights of fierce fighting, on August 24, Itagaki linked up with the Kwantung Army's 2nd Independent Mixed Brigade at Xiahuayuan. By August 24, the Japanese army breached the defensive line of the Chinese defenders' Wang Wanling Division along the western Hengling, crossed the Great Wall, and advanced into the Huailai area. At this time, the Japanese forces attacking Zhangjiakou from Chabei also secured control of the railway line west of Zhangjiakou, posing a significant threat to the Chinese defenders at Nankou. On August 25, the Chinese defenders were compelled to withdraw from Nankou and retreat to Juyongguan. By August 27, they received orders to break out and relocate southward, completely evacuating the Nankou battlefield. Since Wei Lihuang's troops lost their intended target for reinforcement and Baoding along the Pinghan Line was in a state of emergency, they engaged the enemy in the Wanping area for over a month before retreating south. Following the abandonment of both Nankou and Juyongguan, the Japanese army invaded Huailai City on the night of August 27. The Chinese army suffered over 16,000 casualties, while the Japanese army reported more than 15,000 casualties. On August 26, General Tang Enbo's forces were ordered to break out toward the Sangchien River, while Liu Ruming's troops were directed to withdraw to the opposite side of the Hsiang-yang River. On August 29, a Japanese unit known as the Oui Column by the Chinese and the Ohizumi Detachment by the Japanese launched an attack. According to Hsu Long-hsuen, this unit moved south from Tushihkou, and on August 30, it attacked Yenching via Chihcheng but was repelled by the Chinese 17th Army. The unit had moved to Guyuan by August 25 and reached Xuanhua by September 7, effectively cutting the railway behind Tang's forces and east of the Chinese defenders along the Great Wall. Following the repulsion of the Oui Column's attack, the Chinese 17th Army withdrew to join the rest of Tang Enbo's forces on the far side of the Sangchien River. Kalgan fell to the Japanese on August 27. After General Fu Zuoyi's 200th and 211th Brigades failed in their counterattack to recapture Kalgan, Fu's forces retreated to the west to defend the railway to Suiyuan at Chaikoupao.  On August 30, the army high command ordered the task force and the China Garrison Army to occupy Chahar Province. The North China Area Army deployed Lieutenant General Itagaki Seishiro's Fifth Division, the theater's strategic reserve, for this operation. The Japanese forces relied on armored units to breach Chinese defenses and utilized rail lines to transport troops and supplies effectively to critical locations throughout Chahar. Although the First Independent Mixed Brigade's tanks and armored cars demonstrated proficiency, the Kwantung Army's assessment of the operation criticized the armored units for their lack of shock effect and frequent mechanical breakdowns. Additionally, these vehicles required significant supplies and maintenance, leading the army to deem them ineffective in combat situations. The Second Air Group provided crucial support for the ground offensive in Chahar. From mid-August, this air group, stationed in Chengde and Jingzhou, conducted bombing raids on enemy positions and transport routes, performed reconnaissance missions, and even airdropped supplies to encircled Japanese forces. To match the rapid advance of the mechanized ground forces, air units were repositioned to advanced airfields. After bombing Taiyuan in late August, some units returned to their home bases, leaving behind two fighter squadrons and two heavy bomber squadrons, which formed a provisional air regiment. By mid-September, the Fifth Division and the Chahar Expeditionary Force were advancing southwest through the rugged mountains of Shanxi Province and captured Datong on September 13. Five days later, anticipating a decisive battle, Lieutenant General Katsuki ordered the Fifth Division to pivot southeast toward Baoding to encircle the retreating Chinese forces. Shortly after repositioning, Itagaki learned from aerial reconnaissance that Chinese units were assembling near Pingxingguan (Dayingzhen) Pass. Concerned that these forces might advance eastward through the pass and threaten his rear, Itagaki dispatched a regimental-sized task force under the command of Major General Miura Keiji, leader of the Twenty-first Brigade, to disperse the enemy troops and control the road on both sides of the pass. Miura's task force departed by truck in the mid-afternoon of the following day, but the overland movement proved much slower and more challenging than anticipated. Travelling along a single rutted dirt track through steep mountains, the forty-nine trucks carrying his infantry and heavy weapons, including crew-served machine guns and battalion artillery, could only manage a speed of seven miles per hour. By late afternoon, the lead elements were still about five miles east of the pass when they encountered a few hundred Chinese troops who had retreated after a brief firefight. As night fell, the Japanese moved cautiously forward and reached a village approximately a mile from the pass, where they encountered stiff resistance, including mortar and automatic weapons fire. After successfully repelling a counterattack by the Chinese Seventy-third Division, Miura launched a night assault. Supported by pack artillery and heavy machine guns, two Japanese companies pushed through the pass and seized the high ground on its west side by early morning. However, Chinese reinforcements soon arrived and attempted to reclaim the lost territory, resulting in ongoing fighting for the heights on September 24. Meanwhile, the Chinese Communist 115th Division, comprising the 685th, 686th, and 687th regiments of the Eighth Route Army, consisting of around 6,000 effective troops under the command of twenty-nine-year-old Lin Biao, maneuvered south around the Japanese rear. By September 24, they had interposed themselves on the road east of the pass, effectively cutting off Miura's task force from its supply base. That same day, the Central Army's Seventy-first Division launched several sharp counterattacks against Miura's outnumbered forces west of the pass, threatening to overrun the Japanese positions. Central Army and Communist forces had planned to attack both flanks of the Japanese at dawn on September 25, but torrential rains delayed the advance of the Central Army reserves. The downpour also muffled the sounds of an approaching Japanese night assault. Utilizing the poor night security of the Chinese, Japanese assault parties surprised the Seventy-first and Eighty-fourth divisions, pushing them from their positions west of the pass. Miura mistakenly believed he controlled both sides of the pass and assumed the Chinese forces were in full retreat. Unbeknownst to him, Lin Biao's troops had blocked the eastern entrance to the pass, prompting him to order a resupply column with rations and ammunition forward from about fifteen miles east of the pass to replenish his depleted task force. The supply train, consisting of seventy horse-drawn wagons and eighty trucks, struggled to make progress along the single dirt track, where sections had become muddy bogs due to the heavy rains. Most of the hundred-plus soldiers handling the horses and wagons were untrained and unarmed. The few regular service corps soldiers carried only ten cavalry carbines, while a single infantry platoon of thirty men provided security. The eighty trucks transported another 176 men, most of whom were not infantry. Therefore, the resupply column was ill-prepared for any trouble. Following a sunken road worn down by centuries of caravans, the column approached the pass through a narrow man-made defile, with its sides rising as high as thirty-five feet above the track. Around mid-morning, about four miles east of the pass, the Chinese Communist 115th Division launched an ambush. Communist troops rained grenades and small-arms fire from the high ground overlooking the road onto the trapped convoy. Although the Japanese fought back desperately, the combination of surprise, advantageous terrain, and overwhelming numbers turned the road into a killing ground. The ambush decimated almost all of the teamsters and the infantrymen who protected the wagons. At his field headquarters, Miura heard the heavy gunfire and explosions and quickly ordered a battalion-sized rescue force to assist the convoy. However, the Chinese 685th Regiment, blocking the only road to the trapped supply train, halted the Japanese battalion. Elements of the 685th and 686th regiments then finished off the motorized convoy, with only five trucks at the rear escaping. After looting weapons, equipment, and clothing, the Communists burned the remaining vehicles and withdrew southwest into the rugged mountains. Although the Communists claimed to have killed 3,000 Japanese troops, the more realistic number is around 200. Nonetheless, Lin Biao's guerrillas had achieved a significant tactical success. While the 115th Division destroyed the Japanese resupply column east of the pass, the Central Army's Sixth and Seventh Army Groups, including the Seventy-first Division, launched a series of day and night assaults against Miura's dispersed units west of the pass. Both sides incurred heavy losses, and the Japanese struggled to maintain control of the high ground as the Chinese fanned out through the valleys and attacked from all sides. Isolated and under heavy attack, the Japanese were low on ammunition, food, and water, lacked proper cold-weather clothing in the frigid mountains, and were greatly outnumbered. They resorted to scavenging ammunition and weapons from fallen Chinese soldiers. Itagaki promptly ordered his 41st and 21st infantry regiments, supported by an infantry regiment from the Kwantung Army located about fifty miles northeast of the pass, to rescue the beleaguered task force. These regiments moved along a narrow mountain road amidst heavy rain, which slowed their progress. The relief force split up about forty miles north of Pingxingguan, with the Twenty-first Regiment swinging westward to outflank the Chinese, while the other two regiments continued toward the pass. To the northwest, the Fifteenth Brigade of the Chahar Expeditionary Force advanced southeastward from Datong to encircle the Chinese. Central Army forces defending along the inner Great Wall, about fifty miles northwest of Pingxingguan, inflicted substantial casualties on the Japanese. The Japanese Forty-first Regiment finally reached Miura on September 28, and on the same day, the Twenty-first Regiment dislodged the stubborn defenders along the Inner Great Wall, roughly forty miles northwest of the pass, disrupting the entire Chinese defense and threatening to surround the besieging forces. Nonetheless, fighting continued through September 29, when the Second Brigade broke through the Chinese Central Army's defenses and advanced westward. Facing potential encirclement and certain destruction, the Japanese Sixth Army Group withdrew southwest the following day. Japanese accounts do not specify overall losses, but Chinese reports claim nearly 3,000 Japanese casualties while acknowledging they suffered ten times that number. After five days of intense fighting in rugged terrain, Miura's forces managed to hold their ground, but their heavy losses and those sustained by relief columns rendered it a Pyrrhic victory. Both Communist and Nationalist Chinese forces retreated southwest, surviving to fight another day. The determination of the Chinese Central Army in both offensive and defensive maneuvers, combined with the skillful hit-and-run tactics of the 115th Division, inflicted significant damage on the Japanese and became a cornerstone of Chinese propaganda. On October 1, the Japanese General Staff ordered the North China Area Army to destroy the Chinese forces in Shanxi Province, which were estimated to number over twenty divisions from either the Shanxi Army or the Central Army, and were fortifying positions in Taiyuan, Yangquan, and Yuanpingzhen. The Japanese Fifth and Twentieth Divisions advanced toward Taiyuan, while the Fifteenth Division, reinforced by a mixed brigade, launched an assault south from Yuanpingzhen on October 13. The Fifteenth Division quickly encountered strong Chinese resistance from well-prepared defenses, which halted its advance. From October 19 to 26, the Twentieth Division faced thirteen Chinese divisions entrenched near Jiuguan. Although they successfully repelled numerous fierce counterattacks, the division was unable to breach the Chinese lines. A maneuver by one of its regiments to the rear of the Chinese defenses forced a withdrawal of Chinese troops. The reconstituted Fifth Division joined the pursuit of the retreating Chinese forces on November 3, reaching Taiyuan five days later. Meanwhile, the Twentieth Division, moving westward, inflicted heavy losses on the Chinese units that were withdrawing from Taiyuan. Overall, given that the offensive aimed to secure territory, it can be considered a tactical and operational success. Shortly thereafter, all Japanese forces, except for the Twentieth Division, withdrew from Shanxi Province. The Chahar campaign concluded with the Kwantung Army in control of Chahar, Suiyuan, and the northern half of Shanxi Province. The Japanese quickly established puppet regimes in the captured territories. 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 July 1937, tensions between Japan and China erupted following the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, leading to fierce fighting as Japanese troops attacked. Chinese defenders, under command of Chiang Kai-shek, bravely resisted despite overwhelming odds, determined to protect their sovereignty. The Battle of Nankou saw relentless assaults, tank warfare, and desperate defense tactics, revealing the depth of Chinese resolve. 

Last time we spoke about Japan's preparations for War. In late 1936, tensions soared in China as Nationalist General Chiang Kai-shek was detained by dissenting commanders who were frustrated with his focus on communism instead of the growing Japanese threat. Faced with escalating Japanese aggression, these leaders forced Chiang into a reluctant alliance with the Chinese Communist Party, marking a pivotal shift in China's strategy. Despite this union, China remained unprepared, lacking sufficient military supplies and modern equipment. Conversely, Japan, wary of Chinese modernization efforts, pushed for a preemptive strike to dismantle Chiang's regime before it could pose a serious threat. As aggressive military exercises intensified, Japan underestimated Chinese resilience. By spring 1937, both nations found themselves on the brink of war, with Japan's divided military leadership struggling to formulate a coherent strategy. Ultimately, these miscalculations would lead to the full-scale Sino-Japanese War, altering the course of history in East Asia.   #154 The Marco Polo Bridge Incident  Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Here we are at last, the beginning of the absolute cataclysm between China and Japan. Now as many of you know I run the Pacific War week by week podcast, which technically covers the second sino-japanese war, nearly to a T. So for this podcast I want to try and portray the event from the Chinese and Japanese point of view, but not in the rather dry manner of the other podcast. In the other podcast I am hampered by the week by week format and can never dig deep into the nitty gritty as they say. On the same hand I don't want to simply regurgitate every single battle of this conflict, it would be absolutely nuts. So bear with me friends as we fall down in the rabbit hole of madness together, who knows how long it will take to get out. On the night of July 7, 1937, at approximately 19:30, the 8th Squadron of the 3rd Battalion of the 1st Regiment of the Hebian Brigade of the Japanese Army, stationed in Fengtai and led by Squadron Leader Shimizu Seiro, conducted a military exercise, heading toward Lungwangmiao, approximately just under a mile northwest of the Marco Polo Bridge The exercise simulated an operation to capture the bridge. As you may have guessed it was named after the Italian explorer Marco Polo, who described it in his travels, the bridge is renowned for its intricate carvings of lions and other sculptures. However after 1937, the Marco Polo Bridge would be far less known for its history dealing with the venetian explorer and more so with an event that many would contend to be the start of WW2. At that time, troops from Japan, Britain, France, and Italy were stationed near Peiping in accordance with the Boxer Protocol of 1901. The Japanese China Garrison Army, comprising around 4,000 soldiers and commanded by Lieutenant-General Tashiro Kan'ichirō, was based in Tientsin. Its mission was to "maintain communication lines between Peiping and the seaports in the Gulf of Chihli and to protect Japanese citizens living in key areas of North China." The protocol also permitted the garrison forces of the signatory nations to conduct field drills and rifle practice without notifying the Chinese authorities, with the exception of cases involving live fire. During this period, Japanese troops were conducting nightly exercises in anticipation of a scheduled review on July 9. The night maneuver was within the army's rights under the Boxer Protocol and was not an illegal act, as later claimed by the Chinese. However, the Japanese army had courteously informed the Chinese authorities about its training plans in advance. Despite this, the atmosphere was charged with tension, and the Japanese decision to use blank ammunition during their night exercise further escalated the already volatile situation. Earlier that evening, Captain Shimizu Setsurö, a company commander, arrived at the banks of the Yungting River, where the maneuver was to take place. He noticed that the site looked different since the last exercise had occurred; Chinese troops had recently constructed new trenches and parapets from the embankment to the Lungwangmiao shelter. While eating his dinner and surveying the area, Shimizu felt a sense of unease, harboring a premonition that “something might happen that night.” After completing the first stage of the maneuver around 10:30 PM, several live rounds were fired into the assembled company from the direction of the riverbank. Shimizu immediately conducted a roll call and found one soldier missing. He promptly sent a messenger to inform the battalion commander. The exercise was then called off, and the company moved eastward to await further orders at Hsiwulitien. Battalion Commander Itsuki Kiyonaho, upon receiving the report, deemed the situation serious. Aside from the gunfire heard in the darkness from an unknown source, he expressed concern over the soldier's disappearance and sought permission from Regiment Commander Mutaguchi Renya, an absolute moron, if you listen to the pacific war podcast, well you know. Anyways to relocate the battalion to the area where the shots had been fired and to establish surveillance. As dawn approached, the troops heard several more gunshots. Within twenty minutes of the soldier's disappearance, he returned to his ranks, but Shimizu did not report this update until four hours later. Meanwhile, midnight negotiations included a Japanese request for permission to search the city of Wanping, leading both sides to believe the incident was significant. Around 11:00 PM, the Japanese forces falsely reported that one of their soldiers had gone missing during the drill and demanded permission to enter the city for a search. This request was firmly denied by Ji Xingwen, the commander of the 219th Regiment of the 37th Division of the Chinese Army. In response, Japanese troops swiftly surrounded Wanping County. To prevent further escalation, at 2:00 AM the following morning, Qin Dechun, deputy commander of the 29th Army and mayor of Beiping, agreed with the Japanese to allow both sides to send personnel for an investigation. While Matsui, the head of the Japanese secret service in Peiping, was negotiating with North Chinese authorities based on unverified reports from Japanese troops in Fengtai, Ikki Kiyonao, the battalion commander of the Japanese garrison in Fengtai, had already reported to his regiment commander, Mutaguchi Lianya. The latter approved orders for the Japanese troops in Fengtai to “immediately move out” to the Marco Polo Bridge.  On July 8, a large contingent of Japanese troops appeared at Lugou Bridge. Shen Zhongming, the platoon leader of the 10th Company of the Reserve Force of the 3rd Battalion of the 219th Regiment of the 37th Division of the 29th Army, was assisting in guarding the bridgehead. He jumped out of the trench, stood in front of the bunker, and raised his right hand to halt the advancing Japanese troops. However, the Japanese military threatened to search for their missing soldiers, pushed forward, and opened fire. Shen Zhongming was shot and died on the spot. At 4:50 AM, the Japanese army launched a fierce assault on Wanping County, capturing Shagang in the northeast of Wanping and firing the first shot of the siege. Unable to withstand the aggression, the Chinese defenders mounted a counterattack. That day, the Japanese army assaulted Wanping City three times, targeting the Pinghan Railway Bridge and the Chinese defenders at the Huilong Temple position on the left. He Jifeng, the commander of the 110th Brigade of the Chinese defenders, issued a resolute order to “live and die with the bridge” and personally commanded the front-line battle. The Chinese defenders engaged in fierce combat, fighting valiantly despite exhausting their ammunition and resorting to hand-to-hand combat with swords against the Japanese soldiers. Tragically, over 80 Chinese defenders from two platoons were killed at the bridgehead. On the same day, the Beijing authorities instructed the garrison to hold firm at the Marco Polo Bridge. Song Queyuan sent a telegram to Chiang Kai-shek to report the true events of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. The National Government's Ministry of Foreign Affairs lodged a verbal protest with the Japanese ambassador regarding the incident. Additionally, the CPC Central Committee issued a telegram urging all Chinese soldiers and civilians to unite and resist Japanese aggression. The Japanese cabinet, in a bid to mislead global public opinion, proposed a so-called policy of “resolving the incident locally without escalating it,” aiming to paralyze the KMT authorities and buy time to mobilize additional forces. In the wake of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, generals of the 29th Army, including Qin Dechun, Feng Zhian, and Zhang Zizhong, convened an emergency meeting. Following their discussions, they issued a statement demanding that their troops withdraw from the Marco Polo Bridge to de-escalate tensions. However, they expressed deep concerns about national sovereignty, stating, “We cannot simply back down. If they continue to oppress us, we will do our utmost to defend ourselves.” Concurrently, the 29th Army commanded the troops defending the Marco Polo Bridge: “The Marco Polo Bridge is your grave. You must live and die with the bridge and must not retreat.” Brigade Commander He Jifeng reinforced three directives for the defenders:  1. Do not allow the Japanese army to enter the city;  2. Firmly counterattack if the Japanese invade;  3. You are responsible for defending the territory and will never yield. If you abandon your position, you will face military law. On July 9, the 29th Army successfully eliminated a Japanese squadron and reclaimed control of the railway bridge and Longwang Temple. A temporary lull settled over the Marco Polo Bridge battlefield, during which the Japanese military made false claims that "missing Japanese soldiers had returned to their units" and described the situation as a misunderstanding that could be resolved peacefully. Subsequently, Chinese and Japanese representatives in Beijing and Tianjin engaged in negotiations. The Beijing authorities reached an agreement with the Japanese forces, which included:  (1) an immediate cessation of hostilities by both parties;  (2) the Japanese army withdrawing to the left bank of the Yongding River while the Chinese army retreated to the right bank; and  (3) the defense of Lugou Bridge being assigned to Shi Yousan's unit of the Hebei Security Team. However, the following day, while the Chinese army withdrew as agreed, the Japanese army not only failed to uphold its commitments but also dispatched a significant number of troops to launch an offensive against the Chinese forces. Reports on July 10 indicated that the Japanese army had arrived from Tianjin, Gubeikou, Yuguan, and other locations, advancing toward the Lugou Bridge with artillery and tanks, and had occupied Dajing Village and Wulidian, signaling that another outbreak of conflict was imminent. On July 11, the Japanese Cabinet decided to deploy seven divisions from the Kwantung Army, the Korean Army, and Japan to North China. On the same day, the Beiping-Tianjin authorities reached a localized agreement with the Japanese army, which entailed:  (1) a formal apology from a representative of the 29th Army to the Japanese forces, along with assurances that those responsible for the initial conflict would be held accountable;  (2) a ban on anti-Japanese activities conducted by the Communist Party, the Blue Shirts Society, and other resistance groups; and  (3) an agreement ensuring that no Chinese troops would be stationed east of the Yongding River. Concurrently, the Japanese army positioned their forces at strategic points in Wuqing, Fengtai, Wanping, and Changping, effectively encircling the city of Beijing and continuing to advance troops into its surrounding suburbs. Starting on July 11, the Japanese army began bombarding Wanping City and its surrounding areas with artillery, resulting in numerous casualties among the local population. Following the injury of regiment commander Ji Xingwen, residents were evacuated to safer locations outside the city. The conflict then spread to Babaoshan, Changxindian, Langfang, Yangcun, and other areas, with the 29th Army being deployed to various locations to confront the enemy. The Japanese military also dispatched aircraft for reconnaissance and strafing missions, leading to intermittent fighting. On July 13, Mao Zedong urged "every Communist Party member and anti-Japanese revolutionary to be prepared to mobilize to the frontline of the anti-Japanese war at any time" from Yan'an. By July 15, a CPC representative presented the "Communist Party Declaration on Cooperation between the Kuomintang and the Communist Party" to Chiang Kai-shek, proposing that this declaration serve as the political foundation for cooperation between the two parties and be publicly issued by the Kuomintang. Zhou Enlai, Qin Bangxian, and Lin Boqu continued negotiations with Chiang Kai-shek, Shao Lizi, and Zhang Chong in Lushan. Although Chiang Kai-shek recognized the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Border Region, disagreements remained regarding the reorganization of the Red Army. On July 16, the Five Ministers Conference in Tokyo resolved to mobilize 400,000 Japanese troops to invade China and to enforce a policy aimed at rapidly destroying the entire country. The following day, more than 100 Japanese soldiers arrived in Shunyi and Changping, where they reinforced fortifications on the city wall of Changping. On July 18, the Japanese army invaded Changping, Tongzhou, and other counties in the pseudo-border areas by maneuvering through various passes of the Great Wall. Japanese plainclothes teams were reported to be active in the Xiaotangshan area of Changping, raising alert levels within the Chinese army. On July 20, the Kuomintang Military and Political Department became aware that the Japanese army intended to first occupy strategic locations such as the Indigo Factory, Wanshou Mountain, and Balizhuang in the Pingxi area, before cutting off the Pingsui Road and controlling the route from Beiping to Changping. On July 21, the Japanese army violated the agreement by bombarding Wanping County and the garrison at Changxindian.  On the night of July 25, a confrontation took place at the railway station in Langfang, located between Peiping and Tientsin. The clash involved Chinese troops and a Japanese company dispatched to repair telegraph lines. General Kazuki promptly sought Tokyo's permission to respond with military force, believing that the situation required immediate action. Without waiting for authorization, he ordered a regiment from Tientsin to engage the Chinese forces and issued an ultimatum to Sung Che-yuan, stating that if the 37th Division did not completely withdraw from Peiping by noon on July 28, the Garrison Army would take unilateral action. The 77th Infantry Regiment of the 20th Division was dispatched with the Gonoi Squadron to escort a repair team to Langfang Station. Stationed near Langfang were the headquarters of the 113th Brigade of the 38th Division, along with the main force of the 226th Regiment, led by Brigade Commander Liu Zhensan and Regiment Commander Cui Zhenlun. Although the leadership of the 29th Army adopted a passive stance in the war of resistance, the forces in Langfang prepared for conflict in an organized manner. They not only evacuated the families of servicemen and relocated the regiment headquarters, but also built fortifications and deployed plainclothes teams at Wanzhuang Station, Luofa Station, and Langfang Station to swiftly destroy the railway if necessary. Despite their preparations, the commanders of the 38th Division adhered to Song Queyuan's directives. When the 5th Company, stationed at Yangcun, observed Japanese supply units continually moving toward Lugou Bridge, they sought permission to engage the enemy. However, the 38th Division later reassigned this company. The Bac Ninh Line, established after the Boxer Protocol, had granted the Japanese the right to station troops, placing the 38th Division in a vulnerable position and preventing them from stopping the Japanese before they reached Langfang. Upon the arrival of Japanese forces at Langfang Station, Chinese guards initiated negotiations, requesting the Japanese to withdraw quickly after completing their mission. The Japanese, however, insisted on establishing camps outside the station, leading to repeated arguments. As tensions mounted, the Japanese began constructing positions near the station, ultimately forcing Chinese troops to retreat and escalating the conflict. The situation reached a boiling point around 11:10 pm, when fierce gunfire and explosions erupted near Langfang Station. The Japanese army claimed they were defending the station from an attack by Chinese forces armed with rifles, machine guns, and mortars throughout the night. According to Cui Zhenlun, the head of the 226th Regiment, it was the 9th and 10th companies that could no longer tolerate the Japanese provocation and fired first, catching the enemy off guard. As the battle intensified, reinforcements from the main force of the 77th Infantry Regiment “Li Deng Unit” arrived at the scene after receiving reports of the skirmish and gradually joined the fight after 6:30 am on July 26. When dawn broke, Japanese troops stationed at Langfang began to rush out to counterattack, seeing their reinforcements arrive. Recognizing they could not eliminate the Japanese presence at the station quickly, the 226th Regiment faced heavy bombardment from the Japanese Air Force later that morning. Consequently, the headquarters of the 113th Brigade and the primary forces of the 226th Regiment hastily retreated to Tongbai Town, suffering significant losses in equipment during their withdrawal. That night, Kazuki made the unilateral decision to abandon the policy of restraint and decided to use force on July 28 "to punish the Chinese troops in the Peiping-Tientsin area." On the morning of July 27, the army high command endorsed his decision and submitted a plan to the cabinet for mobilizing divisions in Japan. The cabinet agreed, and imperial approval was sought. At that time, the Chinese army was gathering in significant numbers in Baoding and Shijiazhuang in southern Hebei, as well as in Datong, Shanxi. They had effectively surrounded the Japanese army on all sides in the Fengtai District. Meanwhile, newly mobilized units of the Kwantung Army and the Japanese Korean Army were en route to the Tianjin and Beiping areas. The 2nd Battalion of the 2nd China Garrison Infantry Regiment, commanded by Major Hirobe, was dispatched with 26 trucks to the Japanese barracks within the walls of Beiping to ensure the protection of Japanese residents. Prior discussions had taken place between Takuro Matsui, head of the Special Service Agency, and officials from the Hebei–Chahar Political Council regarding the passage of troops through the Guang'anmen gate just outside Beiping. The mayor, Qin Dechun, had granted approval for this movement. However, when Major Tokutaro Sakurai, a military and political advisor to the Council, arrived at Guang'anmen, a famous gate to Beiping, around 6:00 pm to establish contact, he found that the Chinese troops on guard had closed the gate. After further negotiations, the gates were opened at approximately 7:30 pm, allowing the Japanese units to begin passing through. Unfortunately, as the first three trucks crossed, the Chinese opened fire on them. Two-thirds of the units managed to get through before the gate was abruptly shut, leaving a portion of Hirobe's troops trapped both inside and outside. As they faced unexpectedly heavy fire from machine guns and grenades, efforts by Japanese and Chinese advisors to pacify the Chinese troops proved futile. By 8:00 pm, the Japanese launched a counterattack from both sides of the gate. The Chinese received reinforcements and encircled the Japanese forces. Despite a relief column being dispatched by Brigadier Masakazu Kawabe, commander of the brigade in the Fengtai District, by 9:30 pm, negotiations with the Chinese yielded a proposal for de-escalation: the Chinese army would maintain a distance while the Japanese inside the gate would relocate to the grounds of their legation, and those outside would return to Fengtai. Fighting ceased shortly after 10:00 pm, and at approximately 2:00 am the following day, Hirobe's unit successfully entered the barracks in the legation. The total casualties reported for the Japanese army during these confrontations were 2 dead and 17 wounded. Both fatalities were superior privates. The wounded included one major, one captain, one sergeant, two superior privates, one private first class, seven privates second class, two attached civilians, and one news reporter. Additionally, the interpreter accompanying Tokutaro Sakurai was also killed in action. On July 27, the Japanese army launched attacks on the 29th Army garrisons in Tongxian, Tuanhe, Xiaotangshan, and other locations, forcing the defenders to retreat to Nanyuan and Beiyuan. At 8:00 am on July 28, under the command of Army Commander Kiyoshi Kozuki, the Japanese army initiated a general assault on the 29th Army in the Beiping area. The primary attacking force, the 20th Division, supported by aircraft and artillery, targeted the 29th Army Special Brigade, the 114th Brigade of the 38th Division, and the 9th Cavalry Division stationed in Nanyuan. Overwhelmed by the Japanese assault, Nanyuan's defenders struggled to maintain command, leading to chaotic individual combat. Meanwhile, the main Japanese garrison brigade in Fengtai advanced to Dahongmen, effectively cutting off the Nanyuan troops' route to the city and blocking their retreat. The battle for Nanyuan concluded at 1:00 pm, resulting in the deaths of Tong Lingge, deputy commander of the 29th Army, and Zhao Dengyu, commander of the 132nd Division. As this unfolded, elements of the 37th Division of the 29th Army launched an attack on the Japanese forces in Fengtai but were repulsed by Japanese reinforcements. On that day, the Japanese Army's 1st Independent Mixed Brigade captured Qinghe Town, prompting the 2nd Brigade of the Hebei-Northern Security Force, stationed there, to retreat to Huangsi. The Japanese also occupied Shahe. In the afternoon of July 28, Song Qeyuan appointed Zhang Zizhong as the acting chairman of the Hebei-Chahar Political Affairs Committee and director of the Hebei-Chahar Pacification Office, as well as the mayor of Beiping, before leaving the city for Baoding that evening. The 37th Division was ordered to retreat to Baoding. On July 29th, a significant mutiny broke out at Tongzhou. If you remember our episode covering the Tanggu truce, Tongzhou had become the capital of the East Hubei Anti-Communist Autonomous Government headed by Yin Jukeng. In response Chiang Kai-Shek had established the East Hebei Administrative Affairs Committee, chaired by Song Queyuan. In Tongzhou, Japanese troops were stationed under the pretext of protecting Japanese residents, as stipulated by the Boxer Protocol. Initially, a unit was intended to be stationed in Tongzhou; however, Vice Minister of the Army Umezu Yoshijiro strongly opposed this plan, arguing that placing forces in Tongzhou, far from the Beiping-Tianjin Line was inconsistent with the spirit of the Boxer Protocol. Consequently, this unit was stationed in Fengtai, located southwest of Beiping. At the time of the Tongzhou Incident, the main force of the Japanese Second Regiment, which was responsible for defending Tongzhou, had been deployed to Nanyuan, south of Beijing. Consequently, only non-combat personnel remained in Tongzhou. Japan regarded the Jidong Anti-Communist Autonomous Government Security Force as a friendly ally. Back on July 27, the primary forces of the Japanese Army stationed in Tongzhou, comprising the Kayashima Unit and the Koyama Artillery Unit, received orders to advance toward Nanyuan, Beiping, leaving Tongzhou significantly under-defended. The following day, the Japanese launched a substantial attack on Nanyuan, employing aircraft to bomb Beiping. Sensing a critical opportunity, Zhang Qingyu conferred with Zhang Yantian and Shen Weigan to initiate an uprising that very night. The insurgent force included elements from the first and second corps and the teaching corps, totaling approximately 4,000 personnel. Zhang Qingyu orchestrated the uprising with a focused strategy: the first corps was divided into three groups targeting Japanese forces in Xicang, the puppet government, and various establishments such as opium dens, casinos, and brothels operated by Japanese ronin. Meanwhile, the second corps secured key intersections and facilities in Chengguan, and the teaching corps managed defenses against potential reinforcements at vital stations. At dawn on July 29, the gunfire signaling the uprising erupted. The second unit of the first corps launched an assault on the Xicang Barracks, which housed 120 troops and non-combat personnel, including the Tongzhou Guard, Yamada Motor Vehicle Unit, a Military Police Detachment, and a host of military and police units, totaling about 500 individuals. At around 3 a.m. on July 29, the sound of gunfire filled the air as the insurgents engaged the Japanese forces. Although equipped with only four field guns, several mortars, and a few heavy machine guns, the uprising's numerical superiority enabled simultaneous attacks from the east, south, and northwest. Despite their well-fortified positions and rigorous defense, the Japanese troops struggled against the relentless onslaught. For over six hours, fierce fighting ensued. The uprising troops escalated their firepower but failed to breach the Xicang Barracks initially. More than 200 members of the Japanese security forces lost their lives in the conflict. Concerned that reinforcements might arrive and flank the uprising, Zhang Qingyu ordered artillery assaults around 11 a.m., prompting a shift in the battle's dynamics. The artillery targeted a Japanese motor vehicle convoy transporting supplies and munitions, leading to the destruction of all 17 vehicles, triggering explosions that scattered bullets and shrapnel across the area. Subsequently, nearby fuel depots ignited, engulfing the surroundings in flames and creating chaos among Japanese ranks. The insurgent infantry capitalized on this confusion, wiping out most of the remaining Japanese forces, with only a handful managing to escape. As the uprising signal rang out, another faction of insurgents swiftly blocked access to Tongzhou, disrupting traffic and occupying the telecommunications bureau and radio station. They encircled the offices of the Jidong puppet government, capturing traitor Yin Rugeng, who was taken to the Beiguan Lu Zu Temple. Despite being urged to resist the Japanese, Yin hesitated and was subsequently imprisoned. The third group then targeted the Japanese secret service agency in Nishicang. Hosoki Shigeru, residing a mere lane away from the pseudo-office, responded to the gunfire by mobilizing a contingent of secret agents to confront the uprising. However, the insurgents swiftly overtook the secret service agency, resulting in Shigeru's death and the annihilation of all secret personnel. At 4:00 p.m. on July 29, the Japanese command dispatched reinforcements, compelling the insurgents to retreat from Tongzhou. The Japanese Chinese Garrison ordered air attacks on the uprising forces, with over ten bombers targeting Tongzhou. Concurrently, the Japanese Fengtai Infantry Brigade and the Second Regiment were mobilized for a rescue operation, arriving on the morning of July 30. The Japanese headquarters issued a night defense order requiring all units to be on high alert. By 5:30 p.m., commanding officers assembled to devise a strategy. With the uprising forces still positioned around the eastern, southern, and northern walls of the barracks, Tsujimura's troops implemented strict measures: all units were instructed to fortify defenses throughout the night, with the Tongzhou Guard directly protecting the barracks and the Yamada unit securing the warehouse and supply areas. They enforced silence, prohibiting any lights at night, coordinating operations under the code name "plum cherry." As the Japanese planes repeatedly bombed the area, the insurgents, lacking anti-aircraft defenses, could only mount futile counterattacks with machine guns, leading to disorder among their ranks. Many insurgents abandoned their uniforms and weapons and fled, prompting Zhang Qingyu to make the difficult decision to evacuate Tongzhou before Japanese reinforcements arrived, regrouping in Beiping with the remnants of the 29th Army. In the late hours of July 29, the security team retreated to Beiping in two groups. Upon arrival, they discovered the 29th Army had already evacuated, forcing them to retreat to Changxindian and Baoding. En route, they encountered part of the Suzuki Brigade of the Japanese Kwantung Army near Beiyuan and Xizhimen, where they faced concentrated attacks. Officers Shen Weigan and Zhang Hanming were both killed in the subsequent battles as they led their teams in desperate fights for survival. Amid the confusion, Yin Rugeng managed to escape when the convoy escorting him was broken up by Japanese forces. In a last-ditch effort, Zhang Qingyu ordered the army to split into small groups of 50 to 60, navigating through Mentougou to regroup with the 29th Army. By the time they reached Baoding, only about 4,000 personnel remained. On the morning of July 30, over a thousand troops from the Sakai Army entered Tongzhou City. They rounded up all men they encountered, searching residences for insurgents, and exhibited intentions of massacring the local population. By 4 p.m., the Kayashima Army arrived and sealed all city gates, deploying surveillance units to oversee the city and "restore public order." The Tsujimura Army removed perimeter defenses and concentrated their forces in barracks and storage facilities. Japanese troops combed through residences based on household registries, detaining those they deemed suspicious, with many later executed. As reported by the puppet county magistrate Wang Jizhang, roughly 700 to 800 individuals were executed within a few days. This brutal retaliation instilled terror throughout Tongzhou City, leading many to flee and seek refuge, often in American churches. The pervasive atmosphere of fear lasted for two to three months. The Japanese authorities framed their violent suppression as "restoring stability to East Asia" and derided the legitimate resistance of Chinese citizens as "communist harassment" and "treason." In response to the uprising, the Japanese embassy, concerned that it could trigger a repeat of the Temple Street Incident and instigate political upheaval at home, acted without government instructions. They appointed Morishima Morito to oversee negotiations with Chi Zongmo, who had replaced Yin Rugeng as the head of the "Hebei Anti-Communist Autonomous Government." On December 24, 1937, Chi submitted a formal apology to the Japanese embassy, committing to pay a total of 1.2 million yuan in reparations, with an immediate payment of 400,000 yuan, while the remaining 800,000 yuan would be disbursed by the "Provisional Government of the Republic of China." Furthermore, the Japanese demanded that the "Hebei Anti-Communist Autonomous Government" relinquish the territories where Japanese nationals had been killed and take responsibility for constructing "comfort towers." They compelled Chinese laborers to build these structures at the former site of the Governor's Office of Canal Transport in Shuiyueyuan Hutong, Nanmenli, and the northeastern corner of Xicang Square to commemorate Japanese casualties from the uprising. Additionally, they forcibly uprooted ancient trees from the Temple of Heaven, transplanting them around the "comfort towers." The Japanese military also demolished white marble guardrails at the Confucian Temple to erect a monument honoring their soldiers, resulting in the destruction of centuries-old cultural artifacts. On the morning of July 29, the Japanese Army's 11th Independent Mixed Brigade attacked Beiyuan and Huangsi. The Hebei-Northern Security Force, stationed in Huangsi, engaged the Japanese forces until 6:00 PM before retreating. Meanwhile, the 39th Independent Brigade, garrisoned in Beiyuan, fought the Japanese before withdrawing to Gucheng, eventually returning to Beiyuan. On July 31, this brigade was disarmed by the Japanese army, while the Independent 27th Brigade in the city was reorganized into a security team to maintain public order, later breaking through to Chahar Province a few days later and being assigned to the 143rd Division. Meanwhile, the 38th Division of the 29th Army, stationed in Tianjin, proactively attacked Japanese troops in Tianjin early on July 29, capturing the Japanese garrison at Tianjin General Station and launching an assault on the Japanese headquarters at Haiguang Temple and the Dongjuzi Airport. Initially, the battle progressed favorably; however, due to counterattacks from Japanese aircraft and artillery, the Chinese forces began to retreat around 3:00 PM, leading to the fall of Tianjin. Later that afternoon, the rebel forces evacuated Tong County and advanced toward Beiping. En route, they were attacked by the Japanese army north of the city and subsequently retreated to Baoding. As the 37th Division of the 29th Army received orders to retreat southward, the 110th Brigade covered the army headquarters and the Beiping troops from Wanping to Babaoshan, eventually retreating southward through Mentougou. After completing their task, they withdrew to Baoding on July 30. By the end of the 30th, the Japanese army had occupied both Beiping and Tianjin. The Japanese Independent Mixed Brigade No. 1 and the garrison brigade occupied high ground west of Changxindian and the area near Dahuichang on the evenings of the 30th and 31st, respectively. With this, the battles in Beiping and Tianjin effectively came to a close. China and Japan were at war. 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. It has finally happened, China and Japan are officially at war. From 1931 until now, it had been an unofficial war between the two, yet another incident had finally broke the camel's back. There was no turning back as Japan would unleash horror upon the Chinese people. The fight for China's survival had begun. China was completely alone against a fierce enemy, how would she manage? 

Links1. Sea Control 379: Pacific Wars 1864-1897 with Dr. Tommy Jamison2. The Sino-Japanese War of 1894-1895: Perceptions, Power and Primacy, by SCM Paine, Cambridge University Press, 2002. 3. The Pacific's New Navies: An Ocean, It's Wars and the Making of US Sea Power, by Tommy Jamison, Cambridge University Press, 2024. 4. Tommy Jamison Linkedin.

The extraordinary life of forgotten World War II hero Evans Carlson, commander of America's first special forces, secret confidant of FDR, and one of the most controversial officers in the history of the Marine Corps, who dedicated his life to bridging the cultural divide between the United States and China“He was a gutsy old man.” “A corker,” said another. “You couldn't find anyone better.” They talked about him in hushed tones. “This Major Carlson,” wrote one of the officers in a letter home, “is one of the finest men I have ever known.”These were the words of the young Marines training to be among the first U.S. troops to enter the Second World War—and the Major Carlson they spoke of was Evans Carlson, a man of mythical status even before the war that would make him a military legend.By December of 1941, at the age of forty-five, Carlson had already faced off against Sandinistas in the jungles of Nicaragua and served multiple tours in China, where he embedded with Mao's Communist forces during the Sino-Japanese War. Inspired by their guerilla tactics and their collaborative spirit—which he'd call “gung ho,” introducing the term to the English language—and driven by his own Emersonian ideals of self-reliance, Carlson would go on to form his renowned Marine Raiders, the progenitors of today's special operations forces, who fought behind Japanese lines on Makin Island and Guadalcanal, showing Americans a new way to do battle.In The Raider, Cundill Prize–winning historian Stephen R. Platt gives us the first authoritative account of Carlson's larger-than-life exploits: the real story, based on years of research including newly discovered diaries and correspondence in English and Chinese, with deep insight into the conflicted idealism about the Chinese Communists that would prove Carlson's undoing in the McCarthy era.Tracing the rise and fall of an unlikely American war hero, The Raider is a story of exploration, of cultural (mis)understanding, and of one man's awakening to the sheer breadth of the world. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

The transformation of Japan from hermit kingdom to imperial power happened with breathtaking speed. When American Commodore Perry's "black ships" steamed into Tokyo Bay in the 1850s, they shattered Japan's 250-year isolation with technology that seemed to come "from 200 years in the future." This technological gap created a constitutional crisis that would ultimately topple the Tokugawa Shogunate and usher in the Meiji Restoration of 1868.Jonathan Clements guides us through this pivotal period where Japan found itself facing what one historian calls "an invitation to an alien game" - forced to adopt international norms and institutions they never agreed to. Rather than becoming colonized like China or India, Japan's new leaders determined to become players in this global power game. They systematically studied Western nations, adopting what they perceived as the best elements of each: a German-style army, British naval technology, and aspects of French law.This selective modernization happened against a backdrop of growing militarism and expansionism, particularly toward Korea - strategically described as "the dagger at the heart of Japan." The 1894-95 Sino-Japanese War demonstrated Japan's new capabilities, but the subsequent "Triple Intervention" by Russia, France and Germany (forcing Japan to abandon territorial gains) created a humiliation that would fuel future aggression.Throughout this period, the Japanese government struggled with "gekokujō" - military insubordination where officers initiated "incidents" that expanded Japanese influence without authorization. The assassination of Korea's Queen Min by Japanese agents exemplifies this dangerous pattern where unauthorized actions expanded imperial control while undermining civilian government - creating precedents that would ultimately lead Japan toward its catastrophic Pacific War.Whether you're interested in East Asian history, imperial expansion, or the roots of 20th century conflict, this exploration of Japan's rapid transformation reveals how quickly a nation can reinvent itself - for better or worse.You can send a message to the show/feedback by clicking here. The system doesn't let me reply so if you need one please include your email.

  Last time we spoke about China's preparations for War. In December 1936, the tension in China reached a boiling point as Nationalist General Chiang Kai-shek was captured by his own commanders, Zhang Xueliang and Yang Hucheng. Disillusioned by Chiang's focus on fighting communists instead of the encroaching Japanese forces, the generals sought a unified response to Japanese aggression. After being held in Xi'an, Chiang reluctantly agreed to collaborate with the Chinese Communist Party, marking a significant shift in strategy against Japan. Amidst the rising chaos, Chiang's government reviewed historical military strategies and prepared for a prolonged conflict. However, they faced challenges, including inadequate supplies and a lack of modern equipment compared to the Japanese. By 1937, China was ill-prepared for war, with Chiang later expressing regret about their military readiness. Despite these setbacks, the alliance formed with the communists laid a foundation for a united Chinese front against the brutalities of the Sino-Japanese War that would follow.   #153 Japan Prepares for War Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. So in the last episode we talked about how China was preparing itself for war, now its time for Japan. Since Japan's invasion of North China, Japanese field armies had promoted a series of autonomous zones in northern China. Officers from the Kwantung Army, skeptical of China's capacity to modernize, believed that the vast region would inevitably fragment into regional factions. This policy effectively maintained a weak and divided China, which served Japan's to defend Manchukuo. However many Japanese military leaders frequently pointed to the threat posed by the KMT's five-year plan, initiated in 1933 with assistance from German military advisors, aimed at modernizing and expanding the national army. To counter what they perceived as a Chinese threat, the field armies advocated for a preemptive war to dismantle Chiang Kai-shek's regime. Any attempt by Tokyo to alter the military's China policy faced vigorous opposition from the Kwantung Army, which, in February 1937, pushed for intensified covert actions to expel the KMT from northern China and supported a preemptive war to secure strategic areas for future operations against the Soviet Union. At a March meeting in Tokyo, staff officers from the China Garrison and Kwantung armies insisted that any concessions to China would be a grave mistake and would likely yield only temporary outcomes. In early spring 1937, Prince Konoe Fumimaro inherited a China policy fraught with competing views, however, there was consensus that China must not distract the empire from its preparations against the USSR. The end goal was clear, but the means to achieve it remained uncertain. The cabinet's approval of the "Fundamentals of National Policy" in August 1936 indicated a need for stability as the army and navy reconfigured Japan's war machine. The challenge lay in aligning long-term strategic goals with practical short-term interests in northern China without upsetting the existing balance of power. Expanding demands propelled the army's contingency planning, which had traditionally focused on safeguarding Japanese interests and the approximately 13,000 Japanese citizens residing in the region. Tokyo typically responded to serious incidents by deploying troops from homeland garrisons to address localized emergencies and then withdrawing them. However, by the mid-1930s, the growing Soviet threat to Manchukuo rendered this doctrine obsolete. Incidents in northern China gained strategic importance as they diverted resources from the Kwantung Army's preparations against the Soviet Union. Disruptions in northern China hindered access to essential raw materials necessary for army modernization and rearmament, while hostile Chinese forces threatened the Kwantung Army's strategic left flank in the event of war with the Soviets. With these considerations in mind, the army revised its operational war plans, assuming that northern China would serve as Japan's strategic rear area for operations against the USSR. In 1911 Japan's plan for general war mandated thirteen divisions to occupy southern Manchuria, capture Beijing, and subsequently occupy Zhejiang and Fujian. Limited contingency operations in northern China required two divisions to secure rail communications from Beijing to the coast. In the weeks following the 1931 Manchurian Incident, the General Staff in Tokyo drafted plans to counter a Sino-Soviet alliance, anticipating a 2 month campaign involving 15-16 divisions, with the majority engaged against the Soviet Red Army. 2 divisions were designated to secure northern China, while smaller units would monitor the Inner Mongolian front to protect Japan's western flank in Manchuria. After further refinement, the General Staff identified three contingencies for China in early 1932: maintaining the traditional mission of safeguarding Japanese interests and citizens with a standard two-division force; ensuring a secure line of communication between the Chinese capital and the sea with the China Garrison Army, which consisted of approximately 1,700 officers and men, reinforced by one division; and, in a worst-case scenario of all-out war, deploying three divisions to reinforce the Kwantung Army, along with 7 additional divisions and 3 cavalry brigades to suppress resistance in northern China and the Shandong Peninsula, while two additional divisions secured key areas in central China. Between 1932-1936, China received less attention as the General Staff focused on the Soviet military buildup in the Far East. Anxiety, stemming from the Soviet buildup in the Far East, was a pervasive concern reflected in the draft rearmament plan submitted to the throne on May 21, 1936, as part of the national budget formulation process. The army proposed countering the Soviet threat by enhancing Japanese strategic mobility in Manchukuo through the renovation and expansion of airfields, ports, roads, and rail infrastructure, and by constructing army air force arsenals, storage depots, and medical facilities. The positioning of Japanese divisions in eastern Manchuria suggested their wartime objectives, with the Kwantung Army relying on a mobile independent mixed brigade composed of armored car and mounted cavalry units stationed in Gongzhuling, central Manchuria, as its immediate response force for contingencies in northern China. Major units were not concentrated in western Manchuria, where they would be expected to deploy before any planned invasion of northern China. Nevertheless, General Staff planners remained vigilant regarding developments in China, where the resurgence of nationalism, Communist movements advancing north of the Yellow River in February 1936, and the spread of anti-Japanese sentiments across northern China raised the specter of limited military operations escalating into full-scale warfare. China's improving military capabilities would likely hinder Japanese forces from accomplishing their objectives. For example, around Shanghai, Chinese defenses were bolstered by extensive, in-depth, and permanent fortifications. In mid-September 1936, the General Staff in Tokyo issued orders to preempt significant outbreaks in northern China by repositioning a division in Manchukuo closer to the boundary. If hostilities broke out, the China Garrison Army, supported by Kwantung Army units, would launch punitive operations against Chinese forces as necessary. Higher headquarters expected local commanders to act swiftly and decisively, employing rapid maneuvers and shock tactics to address outbreaks with minimal force. Given that no alternative responses were considered, Japanese operational planning for northern China relied on an all-or-nothing approach to force deployment, even for minor incidents. Yet, the senior leadership of the army remained deeply divided over its China policy. Influenced by Ishiwara, the General Staff wanted to avoid military actions that could lead to a full-scale war with China, focusing instead on advancing the army's extensive rearmament and modernization program. In contrast, a majority of high-ranking officers in the Army Ministry and General Staff, particularly within the 2nd Operations Section and the Kwantung Army, favored forceful action against China, believing it necessary to quell rising anti-Japanese sentiments. Drawing from past experiences, these officers anticipated that the Chinese would quickly capitulate once hostilities commenced. This lack of a unified military strategy reflected broader disagreements among the army's leadership regarding operations in China. While operational planning called for the permanent occupation of large regions in northern and central China, the General Staff aimed to contain outbreaks to maintain focus on Soviet threats. There was a clear absence of long-term operational planning; instead, the army concentrated on initial battles while relegating planning for prolonged combat operations to contingent circumstances. In summary, the Japanese army preferred to avoid military force to address Chinese issues whenever feasible but was equally unwilling to concede to Chinese demands. Since 1914, Tosui Koryo or “Principles of Command” had served as the foundational doctrine for senior Japanese army commanders and staff officers engaged in combined arms warfare at the corps and army levels. The advent of new weapons, tactics, and organizational changes during World War I compelled all major military forces to reassess their existing military doctrines across strategic, operational, and tactical dimensions. In response, Japan modified the Principles of Command to blend its traditional post-Russo-Japanese War focus on the intangible factors in battle with the newest concepts of modern total war. A revision in 1918 recognized the significance of “recent great advances in materiel” for total warfare, yet it maintained that ultimate victory in battle relied on dedication, patriotism, and selfless service. In the 1920s, the General Staff's Operations Section, led by Major General Araki Sadao, who would become the leader of the Kodoha faction, had produced the most significant and impactful revision of the Principles. A staunch anti-communist and ideologue who valued the intangible elements of combat, Araki appointed Lieutenant Colonel Obata Toshishiro and Captain Suzuki Yorimichi as the principal authors of the manual's rewrite. Obata, a Soviet expert, was strongly influenced by German General Count Alfred von Schlieffen's classic theories of a “war of annihilation,” while Suzuki, the top graduate of the thirtieth Staff College class, shared Araki's focus on “spiritual” or intangible advantages in warfare. Both men were brilliant yet arrogant, working in secrecy to create a doctrine based on what Leonard Humphreys describes as “intense spiritual training” and bayonet-led assaults to counter the opponent's material superiority.  The latest version of the Principles of Command preserved the operational concept of rapid Japanese mobile offensive operations, aiming to induce a decisive battle or “kaisen” early in the campaign. It reaffirmed the sokusen sokketsu or “rapid victory' principle of rapid warfare. Attaining these goals relied exclusively on offensive action, with the army expecting commanders at all levels to press forward, defeat enemy units, and capture key territories. The troops were indoctrinated with a spirit of aggression and trained to anticipate certain victory. The emphasis on offensive action was so pronounced that Araki eliminated terms like surrender, retreat, and defense from the manual, believing they negatively affected troop morale. This aggressive mindset also infused the Sento Koryo or “Principles of Operations”, first published in 1929 as a handbook for combined arms warfare tailored for division and regimental commanders. The manual emphasized hand-to-hand combat as the culminating stage of battle, a principle regarded as unchanging in Japanese military doctrine since 1910. Senior commanders were expected to demonstrate initiative in skillfully maneuvering their units to encircle the enemy, setting the stage for climactic assaults with cold steel. Infantry was deemed the primary maneuver force, supported by artillery. To complement rapid infantry advances, the army developed light and mobile artillery. Operationally, encirclement and night attacks were vital components of victory, and even outnumbered units were expected to aggressively envelop enemy flanks. In assaults against fortified positions, units would advance under the cover of darkness, avoiding enemy artillery fire and positioning themselves for dawn attacks that combined firepower with shock action to overwhelm enemy defenses. In encounters with opposing forces, commanders would maneuver to flank the enemy, surround their units, and destroy them. If forced onto the defensive, commanders were expected to seize opportunities for decisive counterattacks to regain the initiative. These high-level operational doctrines were distilled into tactical guidelines in the January 1928 edition of the Infantry Manual or “Hohei Soten”, which saw a provisional revision in May 1937 . Both editions opened with identical introductions emphasizing the necessity for a rapid victory through the overpowering and destruction of enemy forces. Infantry was identified as the primary arm in combined arms warfare, and soldiers were taught to rely on cold steel as fundamental to their attacking spirit. The 1928 Infantry Manual underscored the commander's role in instilling a faith in certain victory or “hissho shinnen”, drawing from the glorious traditions of Japanese military history. The 1928 infantry tactics employed an extended skirmish line with four paces between soldiers. Individual initiative in combat was generally discouraged, except under exceptional circumstances, as success relied on concentrating firepower and manpower on narrow frontages to overwhelm defenders. An infantry company would create a skirmish line featuring two light machine gun squads and four rifle squads, preparing for a bayonet-driven breakthrough of enemy defenses. For the final assault, the infantry company would line up along a 150-yard front, likely facing casualties of up to 50% while breaching the enemy's main defensive line. Historical analysis reveals the shortcomings of these tactics. During World War I, armies constructed extensive, multi-layered defenses, trenches, pillboxes, and strong points, each independent yet all covered by artillery. If assaulting infantry suffered heavy losses breaching the first line, how could they successfully prosecute their assault against multiple defense lines? The 1937 revision elaborated on new tactics to overcome entrenched Soviet defenses, drafted in anticipation of arms and equipment that were either in development or production but not yet available for deployment. This became official doctrine in 1940, but as early as summer 1937, units from the China Garrison Army were field-testing these new tactics. The provisional manual adopted combat team tactics, forming an umbrella-like skirmish formation. This involved a light machine gun team at the forefront with two ammunition bearers flanking it to the rear. Behind the machine gun team were riflemen arranged in a column formation, maintaining six paces between each. The light machine gun provided cover fire as the formation closed in on the enemy for hand-to-hand combat. Increased firepower expanded the assault front to 200 yards. The combination of wider dispersion and night movement aimed to reduce losses from enemy artillery fire while the infantry advanced through successive lines of resistance. Commanders at the platoon level were responsible for leading the final assault into enemy lines, with increased tactical responsibility shifting from platoon to squad leaders, allowing for greater initiative from junior officers and non-commissioned officers. This emphasis on broader dispersal and fluidity on the battlefield required frontline infantry to exhibit aggressiveness and initiative. Contrary to popular belief, the Japanese military did not solely rely on the bayonet or an offensive spirit during engagements with Chinese forces. They effectively employed superior firepower and modern equipment within their combined arms framework, using heavy weapons and artillery to soften enemy positions before launching infantry attacks. Without such firepower, unsupported infantry attacks would have struggled to achieve their objectives. In January 1937, the Imperial Japanese Army consisted of approximately 247,000 officers and men, organized in a structure comprising seventeen standing infantry divisions, four tank regiments, and fifty-four air squadrons equipped with a total of 549 aircraft. The China Garrison Army and the Taiwan Garrison Army each included two infantry regiments, while a separate independent mixed brigade was stationed in Manchuria. Two divisions were permanently based in Korea, with four more assigned on a rotating basis to the Kwantung Army in Manchukuo. The remainder of the forces were stationed in the Japanese home islands. A substantial pool of reservists and partially trained replacements was available to mobilize, enabling the expansion of peacetime units to their wartime strength as needed. Conscription provided the primary source of enlisted manpower for the army, though a handful of young men volunteered for active duty. For conscription purposes, Japan was divided into divisional areas, which were further subdivided into regimental districts responsible for conscription, mobilization, individual activations, and veteran affairs within their jurisdictions. Typically, conscripts served with the regiment associated with their region or prefecture. However, the Imperial Guards regiments in Tokyo selected conscripts from across the nation, as did the Seventh Infantry Division, which recruited from the sparsely populated Hokkaido area and from regular army units stationed in Korea, China, and Taiwan. Draftees from Okinawa Prefecture usually served with Kyushu-based regiments. All males reaching the age of 20 underwent an army-administered pre-induction physical examination conducted between December 1 and January 30 of the following year. This evaluation classified potential conscripts into three categories: A “suitable for active duty”, B1, and B2, while others were deemed unfit for the demands of military life. In 1935, 29.7% of those examined received A classifications, while 41.2% were graded as B1 or B2. Among the 742,422 individuals eligible for conscription in 1937, approximately 170,000 were drafted, amounting to 22.9% of the cohort; this figure had remained relatively consistent since the post-Russo-Japanese War years. Within the conscripted group, 153,000 men were classified as A and an additional 17,000 as B. Conscripts served for two years of active duty, with variations based on their military specialty and any prior civilian military training. After their discharge, they were subject to a lengthy reserve obligation. In total, 470,635 individuals fell into the B category, being otherwise fit for service but excess to the army's active personnel needs. These men were assigned to the First Replacement Pool, where they underwent around 120 days of basic military training, primarily focused on small arms usage and fundamental tactics. Regular officers and NCOs led the training in their respective regimental districts. Following their initial training, the army called these replacements and reservists to active duty annually for several days of refresher training. Army leaders regarded discipline as the cornerstone of military effectiveness. Basic training emphasized the necessity of unquestioning obedience to orders at all levels. Subsequent training focused on fieldcraft, such as utilizing terrain strategically to surprise or encircle the enemy. However, training exercises often lacked diversity due to the limited maneuver areas available in Japan, leading to predictable solutions to field problems. The training regimen was rigorous, merging strict formal discipline and regulated corporal punishment with harsh informal sanctions and unregulated violence from leaders to instill unwavering compliance to orders. As an undergrad taking a course specifically on the Pacific War, it was this variable my professor argued contributed the most to the atrocities performed by the Japanese during WW2. He often described it as a giant pecking order of abuse. The most senior commanders abused, often physically their subordinates, who abused theirs, going through the ranks to the common grunts who had no one else but civilians and the enemy to peck at so to speak. Of course there were a large number of other variables at play, but to understand that you outta join my Patreon Account over at the www.patreon.com/pacificwarchannel , where I made a fan favorite episode on “why the Japanese army performed so many atrocities”. In there I basically hit a big 10 reason list, well in depth, I highly recommend it! As the concept of the “Imperial Army” and the cult of the emperor gained prominence, appeals to imperial symbols and authority bolstered this unquestioning obedience to superiors, who were seen as the conduits of the emperor's will. It was during this period that the term kogun or “imperial army” gained favor over kokugun or “national army”, reflecting a deliberate effort by military authorities to forge a direct connection between the military and the imperial throne. The 1937 Japanese infantry division was structured as a square formation, with a peacetime strength established at approximately 12,000 officers and men organized into two brigades, each comprising about 4,000 personnel, formed from two infantry regiments, about 2,000 men each. The division included a field artillery regiment, an engineer regiment, and a transport battalion as organic units. Each infantry regiment was composed of three battalions, approximately 600 men each, which contained three rifle companies, 160 men each and a weapons platoon. A rifle company consisted of three rifle platoons and one light machine gun platoon. Regiments also included infantry assault gun platoons, and battalions contained a heavy machine gun company. Upon mobilization, a fourth infantry company augmented each battalion, along with reserve fillers, nearly 5,000 personnel assigned as transport and service troops, raising the authorized wartime strength of an infantry division to over 25,000 officers and men.  Reforms implemented in 1922 reduced personnel numbers in favor of new and improved weapons and equipment. Among these advancements, the 75 mm Type 90 field artillery piece, which boasted increased range and accuracy, was integrated into the forces in 1930, along with the 105 mm Type 10 howitzer and 75 mm pack mountain artillery which could be disassembled for transport using pack animals. These became standard artillery components for divisions. The emphasis on light, mobile, and smaller-caliber field artillery enabled swift deployment during fast-moving engagements. By minimizing the size of the baggage train, infantry and artillery units could quickly set up off the march formation and maneuver around enemy flanks. Army leaders further streamlined road march formations by eliminating the fourth artillery battery from each regiment, thus sacrificing some firepower for enhanced speed and mobility. Heavier artillery pieces were still used in set-piece battles where mobility was less critical. In a typical 1936 division, the field artillery regiment, equipped with Type 90 field artillery or lighter Type 94 mountain artillery, had thirty-six guns. Training focused on quality rather than quantity, reflecting the conservative doctrine of “one-round-one-hit”. Live-fire training was infrequent due to the scarcity of artillery firing ranges in Japan. Ammunition stockpiles were inadequate for anticipated operational needs; government arsenals produced over 111,000 artillery shells in 1936, which was fewer than one-tenth of the quantities specified in wartime consumption tables. Similar industrial shortcomings also hampered advancements in motorization and armor. Motorization proved costly and relied on foreign supply, presenting challenges given the inferior road networks in Manchuria, northern China, and the Soviet Far East. Military estimates suggested a need for 250,000 trucks to fully motorize the army, a goal beyond the capabilities of the nascent Japanese automotive industry, which produced fewer than 1,000 cars annually until 1933. Japanese tanks, described as “handcrafted, beautifully polished, and hoarded” by Alvin Coox, suffered from shortages similar to heavy artillery and ammunition. The army prioritized light weighing ten tons or less and medium tanks sixteen tons or less due to the necessity of deploying armor overseas, size and weight were crucial for loading and unloading from transport ships. Smaller tanks were also more suitable for the terrains of northern China and Manchuria, as they could traverse unbridged rivers using pontoons or ferries. The Japanese industrial base, however, struggled to mass-produce tanks; by 1939, factories were producing an average of only twenty-eight tanks of all models per month. Consequently, in 1937, foot soldiers remained as reliant on animal transport for mobility as their ancestors had been during the Russo-Japanese War. Despite enjoying technological and material superiority over disorganized Chinese forces, these deficiencies in heavy artillery, armor, and vehicles would prove catastrophic against more formidable opponents. Another significant factor constraining Japanese industry's capacity to produce tanks, trucks, and artillery was the 1936 decision to expand the army's air wing and homeland air defense network. This policy diverted resources, capital, and technology away from the army's ground forces. The nascent Japanese Army Air Force or “JAAF” aimed to support ground operations through reconnaissance, bombing enemy bases, and achieving air superiority. However, direct support for ground operations was limited, and Japanese military planners did not anticipate that aerial bombardment could supplement or replace artillery bombardments. The expanded air arm's strategic mission centered on executing preemptive air strikes against Soviet air bases in the Far East to thwart potential air attacks on Japan. By the mid-1930s, the army had approximately 650 aircraft, roughly 450 of which were operational. The JAAF emphasized rigorous training that prioritized quality over quantity, producing only about 750 pilots annually up until December 1941. Basic flight skills were developed through this training, while specialized tactical instruction was deferred to newly established pilot units. According to logistics doctrine, Japanese maneuver units typically operated within a 120 to 180-mile radius of a railhead to facilitate resupply and reinforcement. A field train transport unit was responsible for moving supplies daily from the railhead to a division control point for distribution. The division established a field depot to manage the transfer of supplies from field transport to company and lower-echelon units. At the depot, transport troops would hand over supplies to a combat train that ferried ammunition, rations, and equipment directly to frontline units. Horse-drawn wagons and pack animals were the primary means of transportation. Each wartime division included a transport battalion, which varied in size from approximately 2,200 to 3,700 personnel, depending on the type of division supported. The division typically carried enough supplies for one day. Upon mobilization, the logistical framework was reinforced with the addition of an ordnance unit, a field hospital, a sanitation unit, and additional field and combat trains. The size of the transport regiment grew from around 1,500 officers and men with over 300 horses to nearly 3,500 troops and more than 2,600 animals. In the battalion, one company generally transported small-arms ammunition while two companies handled artillery shells and two others carried rations; this arrangement was flexible based on operational needs. Pack horses and dray horses were assigned to each company to carry or tow infantry assault artillery, mortars, artillery ammunition, and rations. Infantry soldiers carried minimal rations, approximately two and a half pounds, primarily rice, along with tinned condiments and salt. Consequently, the field train included a field kitchen stocked with fresh vegetables, rice or bread, soy sauce, and pickles. Each evening, a forward echelon train distributed supplies received from the field transport unit to the combat unit's bivouac area. When combat seemed imminent, a section of the transport battalion would move forward to deliver essential combat supplies, ordnance, equipment, medical supplies, directly to frontline units. These units would also handle resupply, medical evacuation, and repair of ordnance and equipment once fighting commenced.  On the evening of September 18, 1936, the fifth anniversary of the Manchurian Incident, Chinese troops from the Twenty-Ninth Army clashed with Japanese soldiers from the Seventh Company's rear-guard medical unit at Fengtai. When a Japanese officer arrived on horseback, a Chinese soldier struck his horse, prompting the Chinese troops to retreat to their barracks. Major Ichiki Kiyonao, the battalion commander, ordered an emergency assembly, surrounded the Chinese encampment, and demanded that Chinese authorities surrender the aggressors immediately. To defuse the situation, Major General Kawabe Masakazu, the brigade commander and Ichiki's superior, instructed Regimental Commander Mutaguchi to resolve the incident swiftly. Mutaguchi negotiated an agreement that required the Chinese to apologize, punish those responsible, withdraw from the vicinity of the Japanese barracks, and maintain a distance of two miles. Although Mutaguchi and Ichiki wanted to disarm the Chinese forces, they ultimately complied with Kawabe's wishes and allowed the Chinese to retain their weapons “in the spirit of Bushido.” Later, the Chinese claimed the Japanese had refrained from disarming them due to their fear of the strength and influence of the 29th Army. This insult infuriated Mutaguchi, who vowed not to make any further concessions and promised to eliminate the anti-Japanese provocateurs decisively if another incident occurred. He warned his officers against allowing an “overly tolerant attitude toward the Chinese” to undermine the prestige of the imperial army and emphasized the need for swift, decisive action to prevent such incidents in the future. Tensions were further exacerbated by large-scale Japanese field exercises conducted from late October to early November. These maneuvers, the largest ever executed by Japanese forces in China, mobilized about 6,700 active-duty and reserve troops for a series of complex battle drills, night maneuvers, and tactical field problems. During these exercises, Japanese troops were quartered in Chinese homes. Although local residents were compensated for any damage caused, the exercises nonetheless heightened tensions between the two sides. The fallout from the Suiyuan Fiasco in December 1936, coupled with a tumultuous summer and fall, led to rising anti-Japanese sentiment and prompted Tokyo to caution the Kawabe brigade against actions that might escalate the already precarious situation. In March 1937, during the annual personnel assignments, Ishiwara was promoted to major general and appointed chief of the 1st Department Operations of the General Staff. However, Army Vice Minister Umezu, a hardliner regarding China and a rival of Ishiwara, successfully maneuvered the Hayashi cabinet into approving the command choices for army and navy ministers, overriding Ishiwara's proposals. General Sugiyama Hajime, another hawk on China, replaced the terminally ill General Nakamura Kotaro as army minister shortly after Nakamura's appointment and remained in that position until June 1938. Lieutenant General Imai Kiyoshi, army vice chief of staff and an Ishiwara supporter, was also battling a terminal illness that rendered him largely ineffective during his short five-month tenure from March to August 1937. Imai was expected to play a crucial role in high command because the army chief of staff, Prince Kan'in, had been appointed in 1931 as a figurehead due to internal factions preventing agreement on a candidate. Ishiwara further complicated his conciliatory approach by selecting Colonel Muto Akira, a known hardliner who believed force was the only means to resolve the Japan-China conflict, for the vital position of chief of Operations Section within the General Staff. From Kwantung Army headquarters, Commanding General Ueda Kenkichi and his chief of staff, Lieutenant General Tojo Hideki, advocated for a preemptive war against China to serve the Kwantung Army's interests. In contrast, the China Garrison Army, under Lieutenant General Tashiro and his chief of staff, adopted a more moderate stance, aligning with central headquarters' policy of restraint. The China Garrison Army estimated the 29th Army to consist of 15,000–16,000 troops, with its main strength centered around Peking and an additional 10,000 troops in the surrounding area. Starting in spring 1937, Japanese units began observing tactical indicators suggesting that the Chinese were preparing for war. These indicators included increased guard presence at Peking's gates in June, bolstering units near the Marco Polo Bridge to over two battalions, preparing new fighting positions, digging trenches and constructing concrete pillboxes near the Marco Polo Bridge, infiltrating agents into Japanese maneuver areas for intelligence on night tactical exercises, and heightened strictness among Chinese railroad guards evident since late June. Nevertheless, the Japanese commanders did not view China as a formidable opponent. They believed that Chinese armies would quickly disintegrate due to what they perceived as a lack of fighting spirit and ineffective leadership. By 1937, Japan's national policy was shifting away from the persistent and aggressive efforts of field armies to undermine Chinese political authority in northern China toward a more conciliatory stance. This shift resulted in increased tensions between field armies and the General Staff in Tokyo, leading to substantial fractures among senior officers regarding the “solution” to their so-called China problem. Those tensions broke the camels back that year.  I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The Japanese grossly underestimated their enemy and their own logistical capabilities. There was to say “too many cooks in the kitchen” of the Japanese military and competing visions ultimately were leading Japan and China into an official full blown war. Japan assumed they could bully China until it was so fragmented it would be a simple matter of grabbing the pieces it liked, that was not to be the case at all.   

  Last time we spoke about the Xi'an Incident. In December 1936, tensions in China erupted as Nationalist General Chiang Kai-shek faced a revolt led by his commanders, Zhang Xueliang and Yang Hucheng. Disillusioned by Chiang's focus on battling communists instead of the Japanese invaders, the generals swiftly captured him in a coup. Confined in Xi'an, Chiang initially resisted their demands for a united front against Japan but eventually engaged in negotiation with Zhang and the Chinese Communist Party. As public sentiment shifted against him, Chiang's predicament led to urgent discussions, culminating in an unexpected alliance with the communists. This pact aimed to consolidate Chinese resistance against Japanese aggression, marking a critical turning point in the Second Sino-Japanese War. By December 26, Chiang was released, and this uneasy collaboration set the stage for a more unified front against a common enemy, though underlying tensions remained between the factions.   #152 China Prepares for War 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. Before we jump into the Second Sino-Japanese War of 1937-1945, which I honestly have no idea how long will take us, I thought it would be a good idea to dedicate two episodes to how both China and Japan prepared themselves for war.  Going all the way back to the 1910s, Chinese intellectuals began to view an outright conflict between Japan and China was inevitable. In the discussions about China's strategic options, Jiang Fangzhen pioneered a strategy of protracted warfare, a concept that would later shape China's approach during the Sino-Japanese War. Having studied in Japan during his youth, Jiang developed a keen understanding of the Japanese government and military. As early as 1917, he predicted that China and Japan would become embroiled in a long-term conflict, with the battleground likely to be west of the Peiping–Wuhan and Guangzhou–Wuhan railways. In his work titled "Guofang Lun" or “On National Defense”, Jiang reiterated the importance of protracted warfare as a means to thwart Japan's aspirations for a swift victory. He argued that China should leverage its vast population and extensive territory to extend the conflict, gradually wearing down Japanese strength and turning the situation to its advantage. Jiang recommended that China not focus on defending its coastal regions but instead confront the enemy west of the Peking–Wuhan Railway.   Chiang Kai-shek would eventually come to share Jiang's belief that “the longer the war drags on, the more advantageous it will be for China.” Despite significant public criticism, both the Nationalist government and General Zhang Xueliang, decided against military resistance when Japan invaded Manchuria in September 1931 and attacked Shanghai in 1932. Chiang was particularly hesitant to engage Japan directly, as he was also dealing with a Communist insurgency in central China. He feared that Chinese forces would suffer quick defeat, predicting that Japan would capture key coastal areas and critical infrastructure within just three days, crippling China by dismantling its military and economic lifelines. Following the invasion of North China Chiang was forced to adopt a firmer stance. The Nationalist government proposed a dual strategy of pursuing peace and security while simultaneously preparing for war. If peace proved impossible, China would mobilize its resources for ultimate victory through prolonged conflict. This approach was formalized in the National Defense Plan, which China adopted by prioritizing protracted warfare as its core strategy. After the Sino-Japanese clash in Shanghai on January 28, 1932, the Military Affairs Commission devised a plan that divided China into four defense areas along with a preparation area. While some troops were assigned local security, commanders were directed to concentrate their remaining forces for potential confrontations with Japan. That year, the Military Affairs Commission issued General Defense Guidelines that outlined two strategic responses to a potential Japanese invasion. The first, conservative approach focused on maintaining key positions and utilizing protracted warfare to impede the enemy. The second strategy advocated for decisive battles in key regions to thwart Japan's ambitions and protect China's territorial integrity, prioritizing disengagement from Japanese forces along the Yangtze River and coastline. In August 1935, German military adviser General Alexander von Falkenhausen provided recommendations to Chiang Kai-shek based on his predictions of Japanese advance routes into China. He identified three main routes: one from northern Hebei to Zhengzhou, the second from Shandong toward Xuzhou, and the third crossing the Yangtze River to Nanjing and onwards to Wuhan. He suggested treating the Yangtze River as the primary combat zone and highlighted Sichuan as a possible retreat area. Taking all of this into consideration. in 1936, a draft of a new National Defense Plan divided the country into four zones: a war zone, a defense zone, an internal security zone, and a preparation area. The war zone encompassed ten provinces and established strategies for retreating to predetermined defensive positions when necessary, with Sichuan designated as the main base for the war. In January 1937, the Chinese General Staff Department introduced its annual War Plan, outlining three possible military conflict regions between China and Japan. It proposed two main strategies: Proposal A emphasized sustained combat and retreat to fortified positions if the situation became unfavorable, aiming to eventually go on the offensive against Japan. Proposal B focused on repelling Japanese invasions along the coast and from the north, prioritizing counter offensives against Japanese units stationed near key locations. To prepare, the NRA completed several critical projects outlined in its plans, establishing military supply depots in Nanjing, Bengbu, Xinyang, Huayin, Nanchang, and Wuchang to manage logistics for supplies across various strategic railways. These depots were equipped to sustain the military, with ample ammunition and provisions, including 60 million rounds of small-arms ammunition and food for hundreds of thousands. Despite these preparations, not all projects were completed by the time war broke out in July 1937. In contrast to the Japanese military's tactics, Chinese forces prioritized defensive strategies. For example, at the Mount Lushan Military Officer Training Camp in July 1934, Chiang Kai-shek outlined four possible approaches against Japan, favoring a defense-as-offense strategy. Other options included building fortifications, tenaciously defending key positions, and employing guerrilla warfare through irregular forces to constrain enemy advances. Chiang stressed the importance of national mobilization for the war effort.  There was a significant disparity in equipment between the Japanese and Chinese armies. To give you an idea, each Japanese division included a mechanized group featuring thirty-nine light military vehicles and 21 light armored cars, supplemented by 6,000–7,000 horses, 200–300 automobiles, and specialized troops such as poison gas teams. In contrast, Nationalist divisions lacked any of these capabilities, a typical nationalist division theoretically had an armored regiment, but this unit was equipped with fewer than 72 armored vehicles. Another major weakness of the Nationalist forces was their insufficient artillery. In 1936, a division was officially assigned one artillery battalion, which was divided into three batteries totaling twelve guns. It also included a mechanized cannon company with four direct-fire weapons. By comparison, a Japanese division boasted four infantry regiments and one mountain artillery or field artillery regiment, with each artillery regiment comprising three field artillery battalions and one howitzer battalion. The infantry regiment itself included a mountain artillery section with four mountain guns, while the infantry battalion had one Type 70 mountain gun section with two guns. In total, a Japanese division possessed sixty-four artillery pieces of various calibers, four times the number of a Chinese division and of significantly higher quality. In reality, in 1936, twelve of the twenty elite Chinese “reformed divisions” still lacked artillery battalions. The ordnance available in the “reformed divisions” mostly consisted of the outdated Type 60 mountain gun. Nationwide, very few of the 200 divisions were equipped with any artillery, and those that did often used obsolete field artillery pieces or mountain artillery provided to local forces. Some units even relied on trench mortars as a makeshift solution. The artillery weapons came from various countries, but they frequently lacked necessary observation and signal components, and were often low on ammunition. The majority of mountain guns and field artillery were of the Type 75, which, while capable of providing fire support, had limited range and inflicted minimal damage. To give you an idea of the striking inadequacy of the Chinese artillery, during the Shanghai fighting in 1937, the mountain artillery of the Guangxi 21st Army Group could only reach targets within 1,200 yards, while Japanese field artillery had an effective range of 8,000 yards. Chinese-made mountain artillery suffered due to inferior steel-making technology; the gun shields were constructed from low-quality steel, and the barrels often overheated after firing just a few rounds, increasing the risk of explosions. Additionally, the equipment of local forces varied greatly in quality. In fact, some local units had superior equipment compared to Nationalist units. For example, before the Sino-Japanese War, troops from Yunnan were equipped with French antitank guns and heavy machine guns, which were better than the German water-cooled machine guns used by the Nationalist forces. However, the majority of local troops relied on inferior equipment; the 122nd Division under Wang Mingzhang from Sichuan, noted for its brave defense of Tengxian County during the Xuzhou Battle, was armed with locally produced light and heavy machine guns that frequently malfunctioned, and their Type 79 rifles, also made in Sichuan, were often outdated, with some dating back to the Qing Dynasty. These weapons had limited range and sometimes malfunctioned after fewer than one hundred rounds. Now before the war, both Nationalist and local forces acquired weaponry from diverse foreign and domestic sources. Even domestically produced weapons lacked standardization, with those made in Hanyang and Manchuria differing in design and specifications. Arms manufactured in Germany, France, Russia, Japan, and Italy were similarly inconsistent. Consequently, even within a single unit, the lack of uniformity created significant logistical challenges, undermining combat effectiveness, particularly in the early stages of the war. Despite Nationalist ordnance factories producing over three million rounds of small-arms ammunition daily, the incompatibility of ammunition and weapons diminished the usable quantity of ammunition. Chinese communications infrastructure was inadequate. In the Nationalist army, signal units were integrated into engineering units, leading to low-quality radio communications. In emergencies, telegrams could remain undelivered for days, and orders often had to be dispatched via postal services. By 1937, the entire country boasted only 3,000 military vehicles, necessitating heavy reliance on horses and mules for transport. To effectively equip twenty Nationalist divisions, 10,647 horses and 20,688 mules were needed, but by the end of 1935, only 6,206 horses and 4,351 mules were available. A statistic from 1936 indicated a 5 percent mortality rate among military horses, with some units experiencing a rate as high as 10 percent. The distribution of weaponry led to disputes during army reorganization efforts following the Northern Expedition. Although Chiang Kai-shek's forces were part of the regular army, the quality of their equipment varied significantly. Domestic production of weapons was limited, and imports could not close the gap. Priority was given to small arms; through army reorganization, Chiang aimed to diminish the influence of forces less loyal to him. Nationalist army staff officers observed that troops loyal to Chiang received the best weapons. Northwest and Northeast forces, having cultivated good relations with the KMT, were similarly better equipped, while Shanxi troops received inferior supplies. Troops associated with the Guangxi Clique were given even poorer quality weapons due to their leaders' stronger political ambitions. Troops regarded as “bandit forces,” such as those led by Shi Yousan, Li Hongchang, and Sun Dianying, were naturally assigned the least effective weaponry. This unequal distribution of arms increased some local forces' inclination to align with the KMT while alienating others, which inadvertently led to additional turmoil in the aftermath of the Northern Expedition. Logistical accounting within the Nationalist military was severely lacking. Military expenditures accounted for a significant portion of government spending, roughly 65.48 % in 1937, with personnel costs being the largest component. However, military units prioritized boosting their own resources over accurate accounting. Surpluses were not returned but rather utilized to reward military officers and soldiers for merits in battle, care for the wounded, or to create a reserve. Conversely, if deficits arose, troops would resort to “living off vacancies,” a practice in which they would fail to report desertions promptly and would falsely claim new soldiers had arrived. Military leaders typically appointed their most trusted subordinates to serve as accountants and logistic officers. As the war commenced, these issues became readily apparent. During the Battle of Shanghai in 1937, frontline soldiers sometimes went days without food and went months without pay. Wounded soldiers and civilians had to search tirelessly for medical treatment, and when main forces relocated, they often abandoned grain, ammunition, weapons, and petroleum along the way. General Chen Cheng, the commander in chief during the Battle of Shanghai, noted, “This phenomenon clearly revealed our inability to supply frontline troops, indicating that China remains a backward country with poor management.” Many logistical shortcomings severely impacted troop morale and combat effectiveness. In a 1933 speech, Chiang Kai-shek acknowledged that poor food, inadequate clothing, and ineffective logistics contributed to widespread desertion. Soldiers were further demoralized by reduced or embezzled salaries. A lack of professional medical staff and equipment hampered healthcare efforts, leading to high disease and mortality rates. According to official statistics from 1936, approximately 10 percent of soldiers fell ill annually, with a mortality rate as high as 5 percent. Japanese military authorities reported that one in three wounded Japanese soldiers died, while a Dutch military officer present during the early stages of the Sino-Japanese War observed that one in every two wounded Nationalist soldiers perished. Due to inadequate equipment and limited transport options, Nationalist forces were compelled to recruit farmers and rent vehicles, as they lacked essential facilities such as tents. This reliance on local resources inevitably led to frequent conflicts between military personnel and civilians. China is clearly a vast nation with an extensive coastline, requiring the construction of several significant fortresses during the modern era. These included Wusong, Jiangyin, Zhenjiang, Jiangning, and Wuhan along the Yangtze River, as well as Zhenhai, Humen, and Changzhou along the seacoast. Except for the Wuhan fortress, built in 1929-1930, all other fortifications were established during the late Qing Dynasty and featured uncovered cannon batteries. These fortresses suffered from inadequate maintenance, and many of their components had become outdated and irreplaceable, rendering them militarily negligible. Following the January 1932 Shanghai Incident, the Japanese military destroyed the Wusong forts, leaving the entrance to the Yangtze River completely unfortified. Consequently, there were no defenses along the coastline from Jiangsu to Shandong, allowing the Japanese to land freely. In December 1932, the Military Affairs Commission established a fortress group tasked with constructing fortresses and defensive installations, seeking assistance from German military advisers. After the North China Incident in 1935, the Nationalist government accelerated the construction of defensive structures in line with national war planning, focusing particularly on Nanjing. The Nationalists prioritized building fortifications along the seacoast and the Yellow River, followed by key regions north of the Yellow River. The government also ordered a significant quantity of heavy artillery from Germany. This included several dozen pieces of flat-fire antiaircraft and dual-purpose heavy artillery, which were installed at fortifications in Jiangyin, Zhenjiang, Nanjing, and Wuhan. By the summer of 1937, the construction of nine fortified positions was complete: Nanjing, Zhenjiang, Jiangyin, Ningbo, Humen, Mawei, Xiamen , Nantong, and Lianyungang. In total, China had established 41 forts and equipped them with 273 fortress cannons. Some defensive installations were poorly managed, with many units assigned to their perimeters lacking training and access to proper maps. The barbette positions in the fortresses were not well concealed and could hardly store sufficient ammunition. Troops stationed at these fortresses received little training. Despite these shortcomings, the fortresses and fortifications were not entirely ineffective. They bolstered Chinese positions along the defense line stretching from Cangxian County to Baoding and from Dexian County to Shijiazhuang, as well as in southern Shandong.  Before the war, China's political and economic center was situated along the seacoast and the Yangtze River. As Japanese influence expanded, the Nationalist government was compelled to establish bases in China's inner regions, very similar to how the USSR pulled back its industry further west after Operation barbarossa.The Japanese attack on Shanghai in 1932 prompted the Nationalists to relocate their capital to Luoyang. On March 5, during the Second Plenary Session of the KMT's Fourth Congress, the Western Capital Preparation Committee was formed to plan for the potential relocation of all governmental bodies to Xi'an in the event of full-scale war. In February 1933, the Central Political Conference approved the Northwest Development Bill, and in February 1934, the National Economic Commission set up a northwestern branch to oversee development projects in the region. On October 18, 1934, Chiang Kai-shek traveled to Lanzhou, recording in his diary that “Northwest China has abundant resources. Japan and Russia are poised to bully us. Yet, if we strengthen ourselves and develop northwest China to the fullest extent, we can turn it into a base for China's revival.” Interestingly, it was Sichuan, rather than the northwest, that became China's rear base during the 2nd Sino-Japanese War. In October 1934, the Communist army evacuated its Soviet base in southern China, initiating the Long March that would ultimately end in the northwest. By this time, Chiang Kai-shek had decided to designate Sichuan as the last stronghold for China. In January 1935, the Nanchang Field Headquarters of the Military Affairs Commission, responsible for combatting the Communists and serving as the supreme military and political authority over most provinces along the Yangtze River and central China, dispatched a special advisory group to Chongqing. Following this, the Nationalist army advanced into Sichuan. On February 10, the Nationalists appointed a new provincial government in Sichuan, effectively ending the province's long-standing regionalism. On March 2, Chiang traveled to Chongqing, where he delivered a speech underscoring that “Sichuan should serve as the base for China's revival.” He stated that he was in Sichuan to oversee efforts against the Communist army and to unify the provincial administration.  After the Xinhai revolution, the Republic of China was still suing the Qing Dynasty's conscription system. However, once in power, the Nationalist government sought to establish a national military service program. In 1933, it enacted a military service law, which began implementation in 1936. This law categorized military service into two branches: service in the Nationalist army and in territorial citizen army units. Men aged eighteen to forty-five were expected to serve in the territorial units if they did not enlist in the Nationalist army. The territorial service was structured into three phases: active service lasting two to three years, first reserves for six years, and second reserves until the age of forty-five. The Ministry of Military Affairs divided China into sixty divisional conscription headquarters, initially establishing these headquarters in the six provinces of Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Anhui, Jiangxi, Henan, and Hubei. By December 1936, approximately 50,000 new soldiers had been drafted. The military service law disproportionately favored the middle and upper classes. Government personnel were exempt from enlistment, allowing privileged families to register their children with government agencies. Similarly, students in middle and higher education were excused from service, while youth from poorer backgrounds often felt compelled to enlist due to financial constraints that limited their educational opportunities. Village and town leaders were responsible for executing the recruitment process and frequently conspired with army recruiters. Recruitment principles often favored wealthier families, with guidelines stating that one son should be drafted for every three sons, two for five sons, but no drafts if there was only one son. Wealthy families could secure exemptions for all their male children, while poor families might see their only son conscripted if they were unable to provide the requisite bribe. Town and village heads wielded significant power in recruitment. This new recruitment system also created numerous money-making opportunities. Military personnel assigned to escort draftees to their units would often allow draftees to escape for a fee. Additionally, draftees could monetize their service by agreeing to serve as substitutes for others. For some, being drafted became an occupation. For example, in 1936, 600 individuals were drafted in the Wuhu area of Anhui province, and accounts from regional administrators indicated that every draftee had either been traded, replaced, or seized. Beginning in 1929, the Nationalist government also instituted military training for high school students and older individuals. Students were required to participate in one theoretical class and one practical class each week, totaling three hours. Starting in 1934, students had to complete a three-month military training program before graduating. Graduates of military academies were employed as military instructors. By the end of 1936, over 237,000 high school students had undergone military training. This student military training was overseen by the Society for the Implementation of the Three People's Principles of Sun Yat-sen, which also provided political education and sometimes gathered information on students' political beliefs.  Although the Nationalists made significant efforts to improve the military training of both officers and troops, they inherited deep-seated challenges that they were unable to completely overcome. A lack of facilities, outdated training manuals, low regard for military instructors, and the ongoing influence of regionalism and warlordism hindered progress. The Japanese would also later exploit these shortcomings of the Nationalist army. The Central Military Academy, which evolved from the Whampoa Military Academy established in 1923 in Guangzhou to train officers for the Northern Expedition, became the primary training institution for junior military officers. The academy offered a basic course, lasting eighteen months, which included general education, specialized training in various subjects, and field practice. This was followed by a two-year cadet training program focused on developing the skills necessary for junior military officers. Seventeen classes were admitted before the outbreak of war. Admission to the academy was highly competitive, with military officers receiving attractive salaries. For instance, in 1935, the academy received 10,000 applications for the twelfth class, but only 7% were accepted. Upon graduation, cadets were typically assigned to divisions within the Nationalist army loyal to Chiang Kai-shek. Their training, influenced by German advisors, resulted in a high-quality cadre. In modern China, most sergeants were veterans. While some units provided training for sergeants, a lack of formal education led to their diminished status. Truly qualified sergeants were rare. During his tenure as Minister of Military Training, General Bai Chongxi proposed establishing a sergeant school and creating a professional noncommissioned officer system; however, the Ministry of Military Affairs opposed this on financial grounds. While commanding officers enjoyed rapid promotions, military instructors did not. Furthermore, there was no system for transferring instructors to field commands or assigning commanders to military academies for extended periods. Despite minor updates to cover modern warfare concepts such as tank warfare and machine guns, Qing Dynasty military manuals were still in use at the Central Military Academy at the start of the war. Yeah, 1937 they were still rocking the old Qing books. Following the establishment of the Ministry of Military Training, a bureau for military translation was set up to evaluate existing course materials and translate military manuals, but its contributions were limited. Another significant shortcoming of military instruction focused on theory at the expense of practical application.  To enhance the quality of military officers, the Nationalist army instituted specialized schools for artillery, infantry, transport, engineering, and signals starting in 1931. These institutions were considered to have high-quality administrators and facilities. The Nationalists adopted German military training models, replacing the previously used Japanese models. They appointed German advisors to oversee instructor training at military academies and established three instructional divisions. By the onset of the Sino-Japanese War, 15,000 students had graduated from programs with a German military influence, resulting in the creation of about fifty combat divisions from these instructional units. However, the progress of other Nationalist army units was limited because their training was not aligned with contemporary battlefield realities. Before World War I, troops operated in close formations due to limited firepower. The widespread introduction of machine guns after World War I necessitated a shift to dispersed formations. Although a new drill manual issued by the Ministry of Military Training in 1935 introduced small-group tactics, few units adopted these methods. General Chen Cheng highlighted another underlying issue in 1938, commenting on the outmoded focus on parade ground drills and formal military manners. He noted, “We have paid too much attention to stereotypical formality and procedures of no practical use. Sometimes, even though soldiers could not get a haircut or take a bath for several months, their camps had to be in order. They underwent intensive training in close-order drill but learned little about gun handling, marksmanship, or maneuvering. This was inappropriate in peacetime, yet we continued this practice even after the Sino-Japanese War started, even using it on highly educated youth.” In contrast, the Communist army simplified training, emphasizing two essential skills: live-fire exercises and physical endurance, which significantly enhanced troop effectiveness in the challenging terrain characteristic of the Sino-Japanese War. Ultimately, the Nationalist army's training did not reach all soldiers. Only about half of all combat soldiers received adequate training, while the rest were neglected. According to statistics from the time, there were approximately five million military personnel during the Sino-Japanese War, with three million serving in logistics. Most of these logistics personnel had received little training, leading to disastrous consequences for overall combat effectiveness. As warfare has become more complex, the role of highly trained staff officers has become increasingly important. Napoleon developed operational plans close to the front and communicated orders via courier. During World War I, military commanders collected information at their headquarters and utilized telephones and automobiles to relay orders to the front lines. In World War II, with the battlefield expanding to include land, sea, and air, senior commanders often made decisions from headquarters far from the action, relying on a significant number of staff officers with specialized skills to keep them informed. In China, however, the staff officer system was underdeveloped. By 1937, only about 2,000 commanders and staff officers had received training. Prior to the Sino-Japanese War, most commanders managed staff work themselves, with staff officers serving primarily as military secretaries who drafted orders, reports, and maps. Many staff officers had no formal military training, and as a whole, the branch lacked respect, causing the most talented officers to avoid serving in it. The situation was even more dire for staff officer departments within local forces. For example, in March 1937, Liu Ziqing, a graduate of the Whampoa Military Academy, was appointed as the director of political instruction in the Forty-fourth Army, a unit under Sichuan warlord Liu Xiang. Liu Ziqing's account illustrates the dysfunction within the ranks: “The commander in chief was not supposed to manage the army and even did not know its whereabouts... But he could appoint relatives and former subordinates—who were officials and businessmen as well—to the army. Each month they would receive a small stipend. At headquarters, there was a long table and two rows of chairs. Around ten o'clock in the morning, senior officers signed in to indicate their presence. Those with other business would leave, while the remaining officers sat down to leisurely discuss star actresses, fortune-telling, business projects, mah-jongg, and opium. Occasionally they would touch on national affairs, chat about news articles, or share local gossip. In the afternoons, they primarily played mah-jongg, held banquets, and visited madams. Most mornings, the commander usually presided over these activities, and at first, I reported for duty as well. But I soon realized it was a waste of time and came very rarely. At headquarters, most staff members wore long gowns or Western-style suits, while military uniforms were a rare sight.” Most senior military personnel were trained at the Baoding Military Academy during the early republic. 2/3rds of commanders in chief, 37 %of army commanders, and 20 % of division commanders were Baoding graduates. Higher-ranking officers were more likely to have launched their careers there. In contrast, only 10 % of division commanders and a few army commanders were graduates of the Whampoa Military Academy. Additionally, commanders trained in local military schools and those with combat experience accounted for 1/3rd of all commanders. While the prevalence of civil war provided opportunities for rapid promotion, it also hindered officers' ability to update their training or gain experience in different military branches. German advisors expressed their concerns to Chiang Kai-shek, emphasizing that officers should first serve in junior roles before taking command. During one battle in 1938, Chiang noted, “Our commanders in chief are equivalent only to our enemy's regiment commanders, and our army and division commanders are only as competent as our enemy's battalion and company commanders.” Despite not viewing high-ranking Japanese officers as great strategists, Nationalist officers respected them as highly competent, diligent, and professional commanders who rarely made critical errors. The infantry was the primary component of the Nationalist army, with middle and junior infantry officers constituting over 80 %of all army officers. A 1936 registry of military officers listed 1,105 colonels and 2,159 lieutenant colonels within the infantry, demonstrating a significant outnumbering of Baoding graduates at ranks below lieutenant colonel. However, the quality of middle and junior infantry officers declined during the Sino-Japanese War; by 1944, only 27.3 % of these officers were from formal military academies, while those promoted from the ranks increased to 28.1 %. In 1937, 80 % of officers in an ordinary infantry battalion were military academy graduates, but this percentage dropped to 20 % during the war. Its hard to tell how educated soldiers were before the war, but it is generally believed that most were illiterate. In 1929, sociologist Tao Menghe surveyed 946 soldiers from a Shanxi garrison brigade and found that only 13 percent could compose a letter independently, while the rest had either never learned to read or were unable to write. In contrast, in August 1938, General Feng Yuxiang found that 80 percent of a regiment in Hunan were literate. Regardless, during the Sino-Japanese War, the quality of recruits steadily declined. More than 90 percent of soldiers were illiterate, and few possessed any basic scientific knowledge, which hindered their ability to master their weapons. On the battlefield, they heavily relied on middle and junior officers for guidance.  In autumn 1933, General Hans von Seeckt, the architect of the post World War I German army, visited China at the personal invitation of Chiang Kai-shek. In his recommendations for military reform, he identified China's greatest problem as its excessively large forces drawn from diverse backgrounds. He stated, “At present, the most pressing goal is to... establish a small, well-equipped army with high morale and combat effectiveness to replace the numerous poorly armed and trained forces.” He suggested forming an army of sixty divisions and recommended the establishment of a training regiment for military officers to equip them with the skills needed for modern warfare. Chiang Kai-shek accepted von Seeckt's proposals, and on January 26, 1935, he convened a National Military Reorganization Conference in Nanjing. On March 1, the Army Reorganization Bureau was established in Wuchang, under the leadership of General Chen Cheng. In the same month, General Alexander von Falkenhausen took charge of the German Military Advisors Group. Before war broke out, around nineteen divisions, roughly 300,000 troops received training from German advisors and were equipped with German-style weapons. At the onset of the Sino-Japanese War, the forces stemming from the First Army of the National Revolutionary Army and the Whampoa cadets, who had fought in the Northern Expedition, held the highest reputation and were referred to as the “core central forces” by the Japanese. Other notable forces included the Guangxi Army, Northwestern Army, Northeastern Army, some Uyghur units, the Guangdong Army, and the Shanxi Army. In contrast, provincial forces such as the Yunnan Army and Sichuan Army were viewed less favorably. Nationalist forces were generally far inferior to those of the Japanese enemy. In 1937, General He Yingqin noted that Nationalist forces had failed to prevail in 1932 and 1933, even when outnumbering the Japanese by 4-1.  In November 1937, during a national defense conference, Chiang Kai-shek stated, "In recent years we have worked hard, prepared actively, and achieved national unification. By the time of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, we were in a better domestic situation and had improved military preparedness compared to before. Since 1935, our strength has doubled. It increased by more than two to three times since January 1932 or September 1931 [when Japan attacked Shanghai and Mukden]. If peace had been achievable, we should have delayed the war for two or three years. Given an additional three years, our defensive capabilities would have been drastically different... Now, if we merely compare the military strength of China and Japan, we are certainly inferior." However, such assessments were overly optimistic, as Chiang failed to recognize that Japan's military capabilities would not have stagnated. 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. Generalissimo Chiang Kai-Shek certainly was dealt a difficult hand of cards for the upcoming poker match he was to play. Yet the Chinese were resilient and they had to be for the absolute horror that would be inflicted upon them from 1937-1945. Until this point, their enemies had been far more lenient, the Empire of Japan would show no mercy.

The extraordinary life of forgotten World War II hero Evans Carlson, commander of America's first special forces, secret confidant of FDR, and one of the most controversial officers in the history of the Marine Corps, who dedicated his life to bridging the cultural divide between the United States and China“He was a gutsy old man.” “A corker,” said another. “You couldn't find anyone better.” They talked about him in hushed tones. “This Major Carlson,” wrote one of the officers in a letter home, “is one of the finest men I have ever known.”These were the words of the young Marines training to be among the first U.S. troops to enter the Second World War—and the Major Carlson they spoke of was Evans Carlson, a man of mythical status even before the war that would make him a military legend.By December of 1941, at the age of forty-five, Carlson had already faced off against Sandinistas in the jungles of Nicaragua and served multiple tours in China, where he embedded with Mao's Communist forces during the Sino-Japanese War. Inspired by their guerilla tactics and their collaborative spirit—which he'd call “gung ho,” introducing the term to the English language—and driven by his own Emersonian ideals of self-reliance, Carlson would go on to form his renowned Marine Raiders, the progenitors of today's special operations forces, who fought behind Japanese lines on Makin Island and Guadalcanal, showing Americans a new way to do battle.In The Raider, Cundill Prize–winning historian Stephen R. Platt gives us the first authoritative account of Carlson's larger-than-life exploits: the real story, based on years of research including newly discovered diaries and correspondence in English and Chinese, with deep insight into the conflicted idealism about the Chinese Communists that would prove Carlson's undoing in the McCarthy era.Tracing the rise and fall of an unlikely American war hero, The Raider is a story of exploration, of cultural (mis)understanding, and of one man's awakening to the sheer breadth of the world. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/biography

The extraordinary life of forgotten World War II hero Evans Carlson, commander of America's first special forces, secret confidant of FDR, and one of the most controversial officers in the history of the Marine Corps, who dedicated his life to bridging the cultural divide between the United States and China“He was a gutsy old man.” “A corker,” said another. “You couldn't find anyone better.” They talked about him in hushed tones. “This Major Carlson,” wrote one of the officers in a letter home, “is one of the finest men I have ever known.”These were the words of the young Marines training to be among the first U.S. troops to enter the Second World War—and the Major Carlson they spoke of was Evans Carlson, a man of mythical status even before the war that would make him a military legend.By December of 1941, at the age of forty-five, Carlson had already faced off against Sandinistas in the jungles of Nicaragua and served multiple tours in China, where he embedded with Mao's Communist forces during the Sino-Japanese War. Inspired by their guerilla tactics and their collaborative spirit—which he'd call “gung ho,” introducing the term to the English language—and driven by his own Emersonian ideals of self-reliance, Carlson would go on to form his renowned Marine Raiders, the progenitors of today's special operations forces, who fought behind Japanese lines on Makin Island and Guadalcanal, showing Americans a new way to do battle.In The Raider, Cundill Prize–winning historian Stephen R. Platt gives us the first authoritative account of Carlson's larger-than-life exploits: the real story, based on years of research including newly discovered diaries and correspondence in English and Chinese, with deep insight into the conflicted idealism about the Chinese Communists that would prove Carlson's undoing in the McCarthy era.Tracing the rise and fall of an unlikely American war hero, The Raider is a story of exploration, of cultural (mis)understanding, and of one man's awakening to the sheer breadth of the world. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

The extraordinary life of forgotten World War II hero Evans Carlson, commander of America's first special forces, secret confidant of FDR, and one of the most controversial officers in the history of the Marine Corps, who dedicated his life to bridging the cultural divide between the United States and China“He was a gutsy old man.” “A corker,” said another. “You couldn't find anyone better.” They talked about him in hushed tones. “This Major Carlson,” wrote one of the officers in a letter home, “is one of the finest men I have ever known.”These were the words of the young Marines training to be among the first U.S. troops to enter the Second World War—and the Major Carlson they spoke of was Evans Carlson, a man of mythical status even before the war that would make him a military legend.By December of 1941, at the age of forty-five, Carlson had already faced off against Sandinistas in the jungles of Nicaragua and served multiple tours in China, where he embedded with Mao's Communist forces during the Sino-Japanese War. Inspired by their guerilla tactics and their collaborative spirit—which he'd call “gung ho,” introducing the term to the English language—and driven by his own Emersonian ideals of self-reliance, Carlson would go on to form his renowned Marine Raiders, the progenitors of today's special operations forces, who fought behind Japanese lines on Makin Island and Guadalcanal, showing Americans a new way to do battle.In The Raider, Cundill Prize–winning historian Stephen R. Platt gives us the first authoritative account of Carlson's larger-than-life exploits: the real story, based on years of research including newly discovered diaries and correspondence in English and Chinese, with deep insight into the conflicted idealism about the Chinese Communists that would prove Carlson's undoing in the McCarthy era.Tracing the rise and fall of an unlikely American war hero, The Raider is a story of exploration, of cultural (mis)understanding, and of one man's awakening to the sheer breadth of the world. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/military-history

Ep 054 – Nonfiction. Historian Stephen R. Platt discusses his new book, “The Raider: The Untold Story of a Renegade Marine and the Birth of U.S. Special Forces in World War II.”‘The extraordinary life of forgotten World War II hero Evans Carlson, commander of America's first special forces, secret confidant of FDR, and one of the most controversial officers in the history of the Marine Corps, who dedicated his life to bridging the cultural divide between the United States and China“He was a gutsy old man.” “A corker,” said another. “You couldn't find anyone better.” They talked about him in hushed tones. “This Major Carlson,” wrote one of the officers in a letter home, “is one of the finest men I have ever known.”These were the words of the young Marines training to be among the first U.S. troops to enter the Second World War—and the Major Carlson they spoke of was Evans Carlson, a man of mythical status even before the war that would make him a military legend.By December of 1941, at the age of forty-five, Carlson had already faced off against Sandinistas in the jungles of Nicaragua and served multiple tours in China, where he embedded with Mao's Communist forces during the Sino-Japanese War. Inspired by their guerilla tactics and their collaborative spirit—which he'd call “gung ho,” introducing the term to the English language—and driven by his own Emersonian ideals of self-reliance, Carlson would go on to form his renowned Marine Raiders, the progenitors of today's special operations forces, who fought behind Japanese lines on Makin Island and Guadalcanal, showing Americans a new way to do battle.In The Raider, Cundill Prize–winning historian Stephen R. Platt gives us the first authoritative account of Carlson's larger-than-life exploits: the real story, based on years of research including newly discovered diaries and correspondence in English and Chinese, with deep insight into the conflicted idealism about the Chinese Communists that would prove Carlson's undoing in the McCarthy era.Tracing the rise and fall of an unlikely American war hero, The Raider is a story of exploration, of cultural (mis)understanding, and of one man's awakening to the sheer breadth of the world.'Subscribe to the War Books podcast here:YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@warbookspodcastApple: https://apple.co/3FP4ULbSpotify: https://spoti.fi/3kP9scZFollow the show here:Twitter: https://twitter.com/warbookspodcastFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/warbookspodcastInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/warbookspodcast/

He was a gutsy old man.” “A corker,” said another. “You couldn’t find anyone better.” They talked about him in hushed tones. “This Major Carlson,” wrote one of the officers in a letter home, “is one of the finest men I have ever known.”These were the words of the young Marines training to be among the first U.S. troops to enter the Second World War—and the Major Carlson they spoke of was Evans Carlson, a man of mythical status even before the war that would make him a military legend.By December of 1941, at the age of forty-five, Carlson had already faced off against Sandinistas in the jungles of Nicaragua and served multiple tours in China, where he embedded with Mao’s Communist forces during the Sino-Japanese War. Inspired by their guerilla tactics and their collaborative spirit—which he’d call “gung ho,” introducing the term to the English language—and driven by his own Emersonian ideals of self-reliance, Carlson would go on to form his renowned Marine Raiders, the progenitors of today’s special operations forces, who fought behind Japanese lines on Makin Island and Guadalcanal, showing Americans a new way to do battle.Today’s guest is Stephen R. Platt, author of “ “The Raider: The Untold Story of a Renegade Marine and the Birth of U.S. Special Forces in World War II.” Tracing the rise and fall of an unlikely American war hero, The Raider is a story of exploration, of cultural (mis)understanding, and of one man’s awakening to the sheer breadth of the world.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for May 5, 2025 is: plethora • PLETH-uh-ruh • noun Plethora refers to a very large amount or number of something. Plethora is most often used in the phrase "a plethora of." // The hotel offers a plethora of amenities, including indoor and outdoor pools, a fitness center, and world-class dining. See the entry > Examples: "In 1895, Japan won Taiwan from China in the Treaty of Shimonoseki, ending the Sino-Japanese War, and from 1895 to 1945, the island was a colony of Japan. The cultural influences of Japan persist to this day: in the tiny coffee shops with their enticing nutty aromas, in the plethora of Japanese-influenced sushi restaurants, and in Taiwan's highly efficient postal service and train systems." — Kim Liao, Where Every Ghost Has a Name: A Memoir of Taiwanese Independence, 2024 Did you know? Plethora was first used in English to refer to a medical condition marked by an excess volume of blood or other bodily fluid, with associated swelling and redness. (Its Greek ancestor, the noun plēthṓra, refers to a similar excess, or to general fullness or crowdedness.) These days, plethora is most often used in general contexts to refer to a large number or amount of something. While plethora conveys a plural meaning, it is a grammatically singular word, which makes choosing whether to pair it with a singular or plural verb confusing. Both can be correctly used, however; choose the singular if you wish to emphasize the grouping or collection ("a plethora of books is available"), and choose the plural if you wish to emphasize the individual elements or components ("a plethora of books have been written on the subject").

Mounting tensions over the future of Korea turned violent after the end of the Donghak Rebellion, resulting in a war between Japan and China.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!

General He Yingqin: The Rise and Fall of Nationalist China (Cambridge UP, 2016) is a revisionist study of the career of General He Yingqin, one of the most prominent military officers in China's Nationalist period (1928-49) and one of the most misunderstood figures in twentieth-century China.  Western scholars have dismissed He Yingqin as corrupt and incompetent, yet the Chinese archives reveal that he demonstrated considerable success as a combat commander and military administrator during civil conflicts and the Sino-Japanese War. His work in the Chinese Nationalist military served as the foundation of a close personal and professional relationship with Chiang Kai-shek, with whom he worked closely for more than two decades. Against the backdrop of the Nationalist revolution of the 1920s through the 1940s, Peter Worthing analyzes He Yingqin's rise to power alongside Chiang Kai-shek, his work in building the Nationalist military, and his fundamental role in carrying out policies designed to overcome the regime's greatest obstacles during this turbulent period of Chinese history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

General He Yingqin: The Rise and Fall of Nationalist China (Cambridge UP, 2016) is a revisionist study of the career of General He Yingqin, one of the most prominent military officers in China's Nationalist period (1928-49) and one of the most misunderstood figures in twentieth-century China.  Western scholars have dismissed He Yingqin as corrupt and incompetent, yet the Chinese archives reveal that he demonstrated considerable success as a combat commander and military administrator during civil conflicts and the Sino-Japanese War. His work in the Chinese Nationalist military served as the foundation of a close personal and professional relationship with Chiang Kai-shek, with whom he worked closely for more than two decades. Against the backdrop of the Nationalist revolution of the 1920s through the 1940s, Peter Worthing analyzes He Yingqin's rise to power alongside Chiang Kai-shek, his work in building the Nationalist military, and his fundamental role in carrying out policies designed to overcome the regime's greatest obstacles during this turbulent period of Chinese history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

General He Yingqin: The Rise and Fall of Nationalist China (Cambridge UP, 2016) is a revisionist study of the career of General He Yingqin, one of the most prominent military officers in China's Nationalist period (1928-49) and one of the most misunderstood figures in twentieth-century China.  Western scholars have dismissed He Yingqin as corrupt and incompetent, yet the Chinese archives reveal that he demonstrated considerable success as a combat commander and military administrator during civil conflicts and the Sino-Japanese War. His work in the Chinese Nationalist military served as the foundation of a close personal and professional relationship with Chiang Kai-shek, with whom he worked closely for more than two decades. Against the backdrop of the Nationalist revolution of the 1920s through the 1940s, Peter Worthing analyzes He Yingqin's rise to power alongside Chiang Kai-shek, his work in building the Nationalist military, and his fundamental role in carrying out policies designed to overcome the regime's greatest obstacles during this turbulent period of Chinese history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

General He Yingqin: The Rise and Fall of Nationalist China (Cambridge UP, 2016) is a revisionist study of the career of General He Yingqin, one of the most prominent military officers in China's Nationalist period (1928-49) and one of the most misunderstood figures in twentieth-century China.  Western scholars have dismissed He Yingqin as corrupt and incompetent, yet the Chinese archives reveal that he demonstrated considerable success as a combat commander and military administrator during civil conflicts and the Sino-Japanese War. His work in the Chinese Nationalist military served as the foundation of a close personal and professional relationship with Chiang Kai-shek, with whom he worked closely for more than two decades. Against the backdrop of the Nationalist revolution of the 1920s through the 1940s, Peter Worthing analyzes He Yingqin's rise to power alongside Chiang Kai-shek, his work in building the Nationalist military, and his fundamental role in carrying out policies designed to overcome the regime's greatest obstacles during this turbulent period of Chinese history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/military-history

General He Yingqin: The Rise and Fall of Nationalist China (Cambridge UP, 2016) is a revisionist study of the career of General He Yingqin, one of the most prominent military officers in China's Nationalist period (1928-49) and one of the most misunderstood figures in twentieth-century China.  Western scholars have dismissed He Yingqin as corrupt and incompetent, yet the Chinese archives reveal that he demonstrated considerable success as a combat commander and military administrator during civil conflicts and the Sino-Japanese War. His work in the Chinese Nationalist military served as the foundation of a close personal and professional relationship with Chiang Kai-shek, with whom he worked closely for more than two decades. Against the backdrop of the Nationalist revolution of the 1920s through the 1940s, Peter Worthing analyzes He Yingqin's rise to power alongside Chiang Kai-shek, his work in building the Nationalist military, and his fundamental role in carrying out policies designed to overcome the regime's greatest obstacles during this turbulent period of Chinese history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/biography

PREVIEW: JAPAN: PRC: Conversation with colleague Grant Newsham attending the 35th Annual Indo-Pacific International Military Law and Operations Conference in Manila re the presentation by the Japan Self-Defence Force that it is ready to participate in the defense of its allies such as the Philippines and Taiwan. More later. 1895 SINO-JAPANESE WAR

PREVIEW:: PRC:US:  Conversation with  with colleague Colonel Grant Newsham, USMC (ret) for his book, WHEN CHINA ATTACKS, regarding the observation of the US National Security Council in the late 20th Century that China was not going to become a threat. More later this week. 1895 Sino-Japanese War