Podcasts about Yellow River

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

All Chapters AI Contribution: Courtesy of Google NotebookLM

All Chapters AI Contribution: Courtesy of Google NotebookLM

All Chapters AI Contribution: Courtesy of Google NotebookLM

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

China is experiencing the strongest cold front so far in the second half of this year, with most parts of the nation forecast to see a sharp drop in temperatures, experts said.专家表示，我国正遭遇今年下半年以来最强冷空气，预计全国大部地区气温将显著下降。There is a high possibility that Beijing will see an early start to winter this weekend, and the temperature drop will bring the unusually persistent scorching heat in the eastern and southern provinces to an end, according to the latest forecast by the China Meteorological Administration.中国气象局最新预报显示，本周末北京大概率提前入冬，此次降温还将终结我国东部及南部省份持续多日的异常高温天气。Ma Xuekuan, chief forecaster of the National Meteorological Center, said that a strong cold front will move from the north to the south and continuously affect the nation's central and eastern parts from Thursday to Tuesday, adding that these areas will see temperature drops of 6 to 10 degrees.国家气象中心首席预报员马学款介绍，10月24日（周四）至29日（周二），一股强冷空气将自北向南影响我国中东部地区，上述地区气温预计下降6至10摄氏度。Among these provinces and areas, the Inner Mongolia autonomous region and those in the country's central part will see temperatures drop by 10 to 14 degrees, or even over 15 degrees, during the period, Ma noted.马学款指出，其中内蒙古自治区及我国中部部分地区降温幅度可达10至14摄氏度，局部地区甚至超过15摄氏度。"It's so far the strongest cold front affecting China in the year's second half based on its range and degree of influence," he said, adding that the nation's northern provinces will see the temperature keep falling next week.“从影响范围和强度来看，这是今年下半年以来影响我国最强的一股冷空气。”他补充道，下周我国北方省份气温将持续走低。He said that China's central part and provinces along the eastern part of the Yellow River and Huaihe River, including Jiangsu, Anhui, Henan and Shandong, will witness the temperature plunge by 10 degrees in five consecutive days from Saturday, with a higher possibility of the onset of winter.马学款表示，江苏、安徽、河南、山东等我国中部及黄河、淮河东部沿线省份，自28日（周六）起连续5天累计降温幅度将达10摄氏度，入冬可能性较大。Xinxin, a weather analyst from China Weather TV, said there is a very high possibility of Beijing seeing an early arrival of winter on Saturday, as reported by the People's Daily on Friday.据《人民日报》10月27日（周五）报道，中国天气电视台气象分析师信欣称，北京本周六（28日）大概率提前入冬。According to Xin, Beijing will see the average day temperature fall below 10 degrees in continuous 7 days from Saturday. Historically, from 1991 to 2020, the city has seen the start of winter on Oct 31, which will move up now because of the ongoing cold front.信欣分析，自28日起，北京连续7天日平均气温将跌破10摄氏度。1991年至2020年的气候数据显示，北京常年入冬时间为10月31日，受此次冷空气影响，今年入冬时间将有所提前。Affected by the strong cold front, provinces and regions south of the Yangtze River and the nation's southern part, such as Shanghai and Zhejiang, will also see a quick temperature change that will end the unusual heat wave there, according to Ma, the chief forecaster.马学款还提到，受强冷空气影响，上海、浙江等长江以南地区及我国南方省份气温也将快速下降，当地异常高温天气将随之结束。He added that from Sunday to Friday, the southern provinces will see temperatures 2 to 4 degrees lower than usual in previous years.他补充道，10月29日（周日）至11月3日（周五），南方省份气温将较常年同期偏低2至4摄氏度。The meeting of the cold front and warm air currents also brought torrential rains to southwestern provinces and provinces along the Yellow River and Huaihe River such as Sichuan and Chongqing on Thursday and Friday. The rains will ease from Saturday after the cold front moves southward.此外，10月24日（周四）至25日（周五），受冷空气与暖湿气流交汇影响，四川、重庆等我国西南地区及黄河、淮河沿线省份出现强降雨天气。随着冷空气南下，自28日（周六）起，上述地区降雨将趋于减弱。Noting the sharp temperature change, the China Meteorological Administration has reminded the public to be careful of weather-related risks like flu, and to be covered in adequately warm clothing.针对此次大幅降温，中国气象局提醒公众注意防范流感等天气相关健康风险，及时增添衣物，做好保暖措施。cold front/ˌkəʊld ˈfrʌnt/n.冷锋scorching/ˈskɔːtʃɪŋ/adj.酷热的；灼热的torrential/təˈrenʃl/adj.倾盆的；猛烈的

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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.

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

Last time we spoke about the Nanjing Massacre. Japanese forces breached Nanjing as Chinese defenders retreated under heavy bombardment, and the city fell on December 13. In the following weeks, civilians and disarmed soldiers endured systematic slaughter, mass executions, rapes, looting, and arson, with casualties mounting rapidly. Among the most brutal episodes were hundreds of executions near the Safety Zone, mass shootings along the Yangtze River, and killings at improvised sites and “killing fields.” The massacre involved tens of thousands of prisoners, with estimates up to 300,000 victims. Women and children were subjected to widespread rape, mutilation, and terror intended to crush morale and resistance. Although the Safety Zone saved many lives, it could not shield all refugees from harm, and looting and arson devastated large parts of the city. Foreign witnesses, missionaries, and diary entries documented the extensive brutality and the apparent premeditated nature of many acts, noting the collapse of discipline among troops and orders that shaped the violence.    #169 Nanjing has Fallen, the War is not Over Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Directly after the fall of Nanjing, rumors circulated among the city's foreigners that Tang Shengzhi had been executed for his inability to hold the city against the Japanese onslaught. In fact, unlike many of his subordinates who fought in the defense, he survived. On December 12, he slipped through Yijiang Gate, where bullets from the 36th Division had claimed numerous victims, and sailed across the Yangtze to safety. Chiang Kai-shek protected him from bearing direct consequences for Nanjing's collapse. Tang was not unscathed, however. After the conquest of Nanjing, a dejected Tang met General Li Zongren at Xuzhou Railway Station. In a brief 20-minute conversation, Tang lamented, “Sir, Nanjing's fall has been unexpectedly rapid. How can I face the world?” Li, who had previously taunted Tang for over-eagerness, offered sympathy. “Don't be discouraged. Victory or defeat comes every day for the soldier. Our war of resistance is a long-term proposition. The loss of one city is not decisive.” By December 1937, the outlook for Chiang Kai-shek's regime remained bleak. Despite his public pledges, he had failed to defend the capital. Its sturdy walls, which had withstood earlier sieges, were breached in less than 100 hours. Foreign observers remained pessimistic about the prospects of continuing the fight against Japan. The New York Times wrote “The capture of Nanking was the most overwhelming defeat suffered by the Chinese and one of the most tragic military debacles in modern warfare. In defending Nanking, the Chinese allowed themselves to be surrounded and then slaughtered… The graveyard of tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers may also be the graveyard of all Chinese hopes of resisting conquest by Japan.” Foreign diplomats doubted Chiang's ability to sustain the war, shrinking the question to whether he would stubbornly continue a losing fight or seek peace. US Ambassador Nelson Johnson wrote in a letter to Admiral Yarnell, then commander of the US Asicatic Fleet “There is little left now for the Chinese to do except to carry on a desultory warfare in the country, or to negotiate for the best terms they can get”.  The Japanese, too, acted as if Chiang Kai-shek had already lost the war. They assumed the generalissimo was a spent force in Chinese politics as well, and that a gentle push would suffice to topple his regime like a house of cards. On December 14, Prime Minister Konoe announced that Chiang's losses of Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai, and now Nanjing, had created a new situation. “The National Government has become but a shadow of its former self. If a new Chinese regime emerged to replace Chiang's government, Japan would deal with it, provided it is a regime headed in the right direction.” Konoe spoke the same day as a Liaison Conference in Tokyo, where civilian and military leaders debated how to treat China now that it had been thoroughly beaten on the battlefield. Japanese demands had grown significantly: beyond recognizing Manchukuo, Japan pressed for the creation of pro-Japanese regimes in Inner Mongolia and the north China area. The same day, a puppet government was established in Japanese-occupied Beijing. While these demands aimed to end China as a unitary state, Japanese policy was moving toward the same goal. The transmissions of these demands via German diplomatic channels caused shock and consternation in Chinese government circles, and the Chinese engaged in what many regarded as stalling tactics. Even at this late stage, there was division among Japan's top decision makers. Tada, deputy chief of the Army General Staff, feared a protracted war in China and urged keeping negotiations alive. He faced strong opposition from the cabinet, including the foreign minister and the ministers of the army and navy, and ultimately he relented. Tada stated “In this state of emergency, it is necessary to avoid any political upheaval that might arise from a struggle between the Cabinet and the Army General Staff.” Although he disagreed, he no longer challenged the uncompromising stance toward China. On January 16, 1938, Japan publicly stated that it would “cease henceforth to deal with” Chiang Kai-shek. This was a line that could not be uncrossed. War was the only option. Germany, the mediator between China and Japan, also considered Chiang a losing bet. In late January 1938, von Dirksen, the German ambassador in Tokyo, urged a fundamental shift in German diplomacy and advocated abandoning China in favor of Japan. He warned that this was a matter of urgency, since Japan harbored grudges against Germany for its half-hearted peace efforts. In a report, von Dirksen wrote that Japan, “in her deep ill humor, will confront us with unpleasant decisions at an inopportune moment.” Von Dirksen's view carried the day in Berlin. Nazi Germany and Hirohito's Japan were on a trajectory that, within three years, would forge the Axis and place Berlin and Tokyo in the same camp in a conflict that would eventually span the globe. Rabe, who returned to Germany in 1938, found that his account of Japanese atrocities in Nanjing largely fell on deaf ears. He was even visited by the Gestapo, which apparently pressed him to keep quiet about what he had seen. Ambassador von Dirksen also argued in his January 1938 report that China should be abandoned because of its increasingly friendly ties with the Soviet Union. There was some merit to this claim. Soviet aid to China was substantial: by the end of 1937, 450 Soviet aviators were serving in China. Without them, Japan likely would have enjoyed air superiority. Chiang Kai-shek, it seemed, did not fully understand the Russians' motives. They were supplying aircraft and pilots to keep China in the war while keeping themselves out. After Nanjing's fall, Chiang nevertheless reached out to Joseph Stalin, inviting direct Soviet participation in the war. Stalin politely declined, noting that if the Soviet Union joined the conflict, “the world would say the Soviet Union was an aggressor, and sympathy for Japan around the world would immediately increase.” In a rare moment of candor a few months later, the Soviet deputy commissar for foreign affairs spoke with the French ambassador, describing the situation in China as “splendid.” He expected China to continue fighting for several more years, after which Japan would be too weakened to undertake major operations against the Soviet Union. It was clear that China was being used. Whatever the motive, China was receiving vital help from Stalin's Russia while the rest of the world stood on the sidelines, reluctant to upset Japan. Until Operation Barbarossa, when the Soviet Union was forced to the brink by the German Army and could no longer sustain extensive overseas aid, it supplied China with 904 planes, 1,516 trucks, 1,140 artillery pieces, 9,720 machine guns, 50,000 rifles, 31,600 bombs, and more. Despite all of this, all in all, China's position proved less disastrous than many observers had feared. Chinese officials later argued that the battle of Nanjing was not the unmitigated fiasco it appeared to be. Tang Shengzhi had this to say in his memoirs“I think the main purpose of defending Nanjing was to buy time, to allow troops that had just been pulled out of battle to rest and regroup. It wasn't simply because it was the capital or the site of Sun Yat-sen's mausoleum.” Tan Daoping, an officer in Nanjing, described the battle “as a moderate success because it drew the Japanese in land”. This of course was a strategy anticipated by interwar military thinker Jiang Baili. It also allowed dozens of Chinese divisions to escape Shanghai, since the Japanese forces that could have pursued them were tied down with the task of taking Nanjing. Tan Daoping wrote after the war “They erred in believing they could wage a quick war and decide victory immediately. Instead, their dream was shattered; parts of their forces were worn out, and they were hindered from achieving a swift end”. Even so, it was a steep price was paid in Chinese lives. As in Shanghai, the commanders in Nanjing thought they could fight on the basis of sheer willpower. Chinese officer Qin Guo Qi wrote in his memoirs “In modern war, you can't just rely on the spirit of the troops. You can't merely rely on physical courage and stamina. The battle of Nanjing explains that better than anything”. As for the Brigade commander of the 87th division, Chen Yiding, who emerged from Nanjing with only a few hundred survivors, was enraged. “During the five days of the battle for Nanjing, my superiors didn't see me even once. They didn't do their duty. They also did not explain the overall deployments in the Nanjing area. What's worse, they didn't give us any order to retreat. And afterwards I didn't hear of any commander being disciplined for failing to do his job.” Now back in November of 1937, Chiang Kai-shek had moved his command to the great trinity of Wuhan. For the Nationalists, Wuhan was a symbolically potent stronghold: three municipalities in one, Hankou, Wuchang, and Hanyang. They had all grown prosperous as gateways between coastal China and the interior. But the autumn disasters of 1937 thrust Wuhan into new prominence, and, a decade after it had ceased to be the temporary capital, it again became the seat of military command and resistance. Leading Nationalist politicians had been seen in the city in the months before the war, fueling suspicions that Wuhan would play a major role in any imminent conflict. By the end of the year, the generals and their staffs, along with most of the foreign embassies, had moved upriver. Yet as 1937 slipped into 1938, the Japanese advance seemed practically unstoppable. From the destruction of Shanghai, to the massacre in Nanjing, to the growing vulnerability of Wuhan, the NRA government appeared powerless against the onslaught.  Now the Japanese government faced several options: expanding the scope of the war to force China into submission, which would risk further depletion of Japan's military and economic resources; establishing an alternative regime in China as a bridge for reconciliation, thereby bypassing the Nationalist government for negotiations; and engaging in indirect or direct peace negotiations with the Nationalist Government, despite the failure of previous attempts, while still seeking new opportunities for negotiation. However, the Nanjing massacre did not compel the Chinese government and its people to submit. On January 2, Chiang Kai-shek wrote in his diary, “The conditions proposed by Japan are equivalent to the conquest and extinction of our country. Rather than submitting and perishing, it is better to perish in defeat,” choosing to refuse negotiations and continue resistance.  In January 1938 there was a new escalation of hostilities. Up to that point, Japan had not officially declared war, even during the Shanghai campaign and the Nanjing massacre. However on January 11, an Imperial Conference was held in Tokyo in the presence of Emperor Hirohito. Prime Minister Konoe outlined a “Fundamental Policy to deal with the China Incident.”The Imperial Conference was attended by Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe, Army Chief of Staff Prince Kan'in, Navy Minister Admiral Fushimi, and others to reassess its policy toward China. Citing the Nationalist Government's delay and lack of sincerity, the Japanese leadership decided to terminate Trautmann's mediation. At the conference, Japan articulated a dual strategy: if the Nationalist Government did not seek peace, Japan would no longer regard it as a viable negotiating partner, instead supporting emerging regimes, seeking to resolve issues through incidents, and aiming either to eliminate or incorporate the existing central government; if the Nationalist Government sought reconciliation, it would be required to cease resistance, cooperate with Japan against communism, and pursue economic cooperation, including officially recognizing Manchukuo and allowing Japanese troops in Inner Mongolia, North China, Central China, and co-governance of Shanghai. The Konoe cabinet relayed this proposal to the German ambassador in Japan on December 22, 1937: It called for: diplomatic recognition of Manchukuo; autonomy for Inner Mongolia; cessation of all anti-Japanese and anti-Manchukuo policies; cooperation between Japan, Manchukuo, and China against communism; war reparations; demilitarized zones in North China and Inner Mongolia; and a trade agreement among Japan, Manchukuo, and China.  Its terms were too severe, including reparations payable to Japan and new political arrangements that would formalize the separation of north China under Japanese control. Chiang's government would have seventy-two hours to accept; if they refused, Tokyo would no longer recognize the Nationalist government and would seek to destroy it.  On January 13, 1938, the Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Chonghui informed Germany that China needed a fuller understanding of the additional conditions for peace talks to make a decision. The January 15 deadline for accepting Japan's terms elapsed without Chinese acceptance. Six days after the deadline for a Chinese government reply, an Imperial Conference “Gozen Kaigi” was convened in Tokyo to consider how to handle Trautmann's mediation. The navy, seeing the war as essentially an army matter, offered no strong position; the army pressed for ending the war through diplomatic means, arguing that they faced a far more formidable Far Eastern Soviet threat at the northern Manchukuo border and wished to avoid protracted attrition warfare. Foreign Minister Kōki Hirota, however, strongly disagreed with the army, insisting there was no viable path to Trautmann's mediation given the vast gap between Chinese and Japanese positions. A second conference followed on January 15, 1938, attended by the empire's principal cabinet members and military leaders, but without the emperor's presence. The debate grew heated over whether to continue Trautmann's mediation. Hayao Tada, Deputy Chief of Army General Staff, argued for continuation, while Konoe, Hirota, Navy Minister Mitsumasa Yonai, and War Minister Hajime Sugiyama opposed him. Ultimately, Tada acceded to the position of Konoe and Hirota. On the same day, Konoe conveyed the cabinet's conclusion, termination of Trautmann's mediation, to the emperor. The Japanese government then issued a statement on January 16 declaring that it would no longer treat the Nationalist Government as a bargaining partner, signaling the establishment of a new Chinese regime that would cooperate with Japan and a realignment of bilateral relations. This became known as the first Konoe statement, through which Tokyo formally ended Trautmann's mediation attempt. The Chinese government was still weighing its response when, at noon on January 16, Konoe publicly declared, “Hereafter, the Imperial Government will not deal with the National Government.” In Japanese, this became the infamous aite ni sezu (“absolutely no dealing”). Over the following days, the Japanese government made it clear that this was a formal breach of relations, “stronger even than a declaration of war,” in the words of Foreign Minister Hirota Kōki. The Chinese ambassador to Japan, who had been in Tokyo for six months since hostilities began, was finally recalled. At the end of January, Chiang summoned a military conference and declared that the top strategic priority would be to defend the east-central Chinese city of Xuzhou, about 500 kilometers north of Wuhan. This decision, like the mobilization near Lugouqiao, was heavily influenced by the railway: Xuzhou sat at the midpoint of the Tianjin–Pukou Jinpu line, and its seizure would grant the Japanese mastery over north–south travel in central China. The Jinpu line also crossed the Longhai line, China's main cross-country artery from Lanzhou to the port of Lianyungang, north of Shanghai. The Japanese military command marked the Jinpu line as a target in spring 1938. Control over Xuzhou and the rail lines threading through it were thus seen as vital to the defense of Wuhan, which lay to the city's south. Chiang's defense strategy fit into a larger plan evolving since the 1920s, when the military thinker Jiang Baili had first proposed a long war against Japan; Jiang's foresight earned him a position as an adviser to Chiang in 1938. Jiang had previously run the Baoding military academy, a predecessor of the Whampoa academy, which had trained many of China's finest young officers in the early republic 1912–1922. Now, many of the generals who had trained under Jiang gathered in Wuhan and would play crucial roles in defending the city: Chen Cheng, Bai Chongxi, Tang Shengzhi, and Xue Yue. They remained loyal to Chiang but sought to avoid his tendency to micromanage every aspect of strategy.  Nobody could say with certainty whether Wuhan would endure the Japanese onslaught, and outsiders' predictions were gloomy. As Wuhan's inhabitants tasted their unexpected new freedoms, the Japanese pressed on with their conquest of central China. After taking Nanjing, the IJA 13th Division crossed the Yangtze River to the north and advanced to the Outang and Mingguang lines on the east bank of the Chihe River in Anhui Province, while the 2nd Army of the North China Front crossed the Yellow River to the south between Qingcheng and Jiyang in Shandong, occupied Jinan, and pressed toward Jining, Mengyin, and Qingdao. To open the Jinpu Railway and connect the northern and southern battlefields, the Japanese headquarters mobilized eight divisions, three brigades, and two detachments , totaling about 240,000 men. They were commanded by General Hata Shunroku, commander of the Central China Expeditionary Army, and Terauchi Hisaichi, commander of the North China Front Army. Their plan was a north–south advance: first seize Xuzhou, a strategic city in east China; then take Zhengzhou in the west along the Longhai Railway connecting Lanzhou and Lianyungang; and finally push toward Wuhan in the south along the Pinghan Railway connecting Beijing and Hankou. At the beginning of 1938, Japan's domestic mobilization and military reorganization had not yet been completed, and there was a shortage of troops to expand the front. At the Emperor's Imperial Conference on February 16, 1938, the General Staff Headquarters argued against launching operations before the summer of 1938, preferring to consolidate the front in 1938 and undertake a large-scale battle in 1939. Although the Northern China Expeditionary Force and the Central China Expeditionary Force proposed a plan to open the Jinpu Line to connect the northern and southern battlefields, the proposal was not approved by the domestic General Staff Headquarters. The Chinese army, commanded by Li Zongren, commander-in-chief of the Fifth War Zone, mobilized about 64 divisions and three brigades, totaling roughly 600,000 men. The main force was positioned north of Xuzhou to resist the southern Japanese advance, with a portion deployed along the southern Jinpu Railway to block the southern push and secure Xuzhou. Early in the campaign, Chiang Kai-shek redeployed the heavy artillery brigade originally promised to Han Fuju to Tang Enbo's forces. To preserve his strength, Shandong Provincial Governor Han Fuju abandoned the longstanding Yellow River defenses in Shandong, allowing the Japanese to capture the Shandong capital of Jinan in early March 1938. This defection opened the Jinpu Railway to attack. The Japanese 10th Division, under Rensuke Isogai, seized Tai'an, Jining, and Dawenkou, ultimately placing northern Shandong under Japanese control. The aim was to crush the Chinese between the two halves of a pincer movement. At Yixian and Huaiyuan, north of Xuzhou, both sides fought to the death: the Chinese could not drive back the Japanese, but the Japanese could not scatter the defenders either. At Linyi, about 50 kilometers northeast of Xuzhou, Zhang Zizhong, who had previously disgraced himself by abandoning an earlier battlefield—became a national hero for his determined efforts to stop the Japanese troops led by Itagaki Seishirō, the conqueror of Manchuria. The Japanese hoped that they could pour in as many as 400,000 troops to destroy the Chinese forces holding eastern and central China. Chiang Kai-shek was determined that this should not happen, recognizing that the fall of Xuzhou would place Wuhan in extreme danger. On April 1, 1938, he addressed Nationalist Party delegates, linking the defense of Wuhan to the fate of the party itself. He noted that although the Japanese had invaded seven provinces, they had only captured provincial capitals and main transport routes, while villages and towns off those routes remained unconquered. The Japanese, he argued, might muster more than half a million soldiers, but after eight or nine months of hard fighting they had become bogged down. Chiang asserted that as long as Guangzhou (Canton) remained in Chinese hands, it would be of little significance if the Japanese invaded Wuhan, since Guangzhou would keep China's sea links open and Guangdong, Sun Yat-sen's homeland, would serve as a revolutionary base area. If the “woren” Japanese “dwarfs” attacked Wuhan and Guangzhou, it would cost them dearly and threaten their control over the occupied zones. He reiterated his plan: “the base area for our war will not be in the zones east of the Beiping–Wuhan or Wuhan–Guangdong railway lines, but to their west.” For this reason he authorized withdrawing Chinese troops behind the railway lines. Chiang's speech mixed defiance with an explanation of why regrouping was necessary; it was a bold public posture in the face of a developing military disaster, yet it reflected the impossible balance he faced between signaling resolve and avoiding overcommitment of a city that might still fall. Holding Xuzhou as the first priority required Chiang Kai-shek to place a great deal of trust in one of his rivals: the southwestern general Li Zongren. The relationship between Chiang and Li would become one of the most ambivalent in wartime China. Li hailed from Guangxi, a province in southwestern China long regarded by the eastern heartland as half civilized. Its people had rarely felt fully part of the empire ruled from Beijing or even Nanjing, and early in the republic there was a strong push for regional autonomy. Li was part of a cohort of young officers trained in regional academies who sought to bring Guangxi under national control; he joined the Nationalist Party in 1923, the year Sun Yat-sen announced his alliance with the Soviets. Li was not a Baoding Academy graduate but had trained at Yunnan's equivalent institution, which shared similar views on military professionalism. He enthusiastically took part in the Northern Expedition (1926–1928) and played a crucial role in the National Revolutionary Army's ascent to control over much of north China. Yet after the Nanjing government took power, Li grew wary of Chiang's bid to centralize authority in his own person. In 1930 Li's so‑called “Guangxi clique” participated in the Central Plains War, the failed effort by militarist leaders to topple Chiang; although the plot failed, Li retreated to his southwest base, ready to challenge Chiang again. The occupation of Manchuria in 1931 reinforced Li's belief that a Japanese threat posed a greater danger than Chiang's centralization. The tension between the two men was evident from the outset of the war. On October 10, 1937, Chiang appointed Li commander of the Fifth War Zone; Li agreed on the condition that Chiang refrain from issuing shouling—personal commands—to Li's subordinates. Chiang complied, a sign of the value he placed on Li's leadership and the caution with which he treated Li and his Guangxi ally Bai Chongxi. As Chiang sought any possible victory amid retreat and destruction, he needed Li to deliver results. As part of the public-relations front, journalists were given access to commanders on the Xuzhou front. Li and his circle sought to shape their image as capable leaders to visiting reporters, with Du Zhongyuan among the most active observers. Du praised the “formidable southwestern general, Li Zongren,” calling him “elegant and refined” and “vastly magnanimous.” In language echoing the era's soldiers' public presentation, Du suggested that Li's forces operated under strict, even disciplined, orders “The most important point in the people's war is that . . . troops do not harass the people of the country. If the people are the water, the soldiers are the fish, and if you have fish with no water, inevitably they're going to choke; worse still is to use our water to nurture the enemy's fish — that really is incomparably stupid”.  Within the southern front, on January 26, 1938, the Japanese 13th Division attacked Fengyang and Bengbu in Anhui Province, while Li Pinxian, Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the 5th War Zone, directed operations south of Xuzhou. The defending 31st Corps of the 11th Group Army, after resisting on the west bank of the Chi River, retreated to the west of Dingyuan and Fengyang. By February 3, the Japanese had captured Linhuai Pass and Bengbu. From the 9th to the 10th, the main force of the 13th Division forced a crossing of the Huai River at Bengbu and Linhuai Pass respectively, and began an offensive against the north bank. The 51st Corps, reorganized from the Central Plains Northeast Army and led by Commander Yu Xuezhong, engaged in fierce combat with the Japanese. Positions on both sides of the Huai shifted repeatedly, producing a riverine bloodbath through intense hand-to-hand fighting. After ten days of engagement, the Fifth War Zone, under Zhang Zizhong, commander of the 59th Army, rushed to the Guzhen area to reinforce the 51st Army, and the two forces stubbornly resisted the Japanese on the north bank of the Huai River. Meanwhile, on the south bank, the 48th Army of the 21st Group Army held the Luqiao area, while the 7th Army, in coordination with the 31st Army, executed a flanking attack on the flanks and rear of the Japanese forces in Dingyuan, compelling the main body of the 13th Division to redeploy to the north bank for support. Seizing the initiative, the 59th and 51st Armies launched a counteroffensive, reclaiming all positions north of the Huai River by early March. The 31st Army then moved from the south bank to the north, and the two sides faced across the river. Subsequently, the 51st and 59th Armies were ordered to reinforce the northern front, while the 31st Army continued to hold the Huai River to ensure that all Chinese forces covering the Battle of Xuzhou were safely withdrawn. Within the northern front, in late February, the Japanese Second Army began its southward push along multiple routes. The eastern axis saw the 5th Division moving south from Weixian present-day Weifang, in Shandong, capturing Yishui, Juxian, and Rizhao before pressing directly toward Linyi, as units of the Nationalist Third Corps' 40th Army and others mounted strenuous resistance. The 59th Army was ordered to reinforce and arrived on March 12 at the west bank of the Yi River in the northern suburbs of Linyi, joining the 40th Army in a counterattack that, after five days and nights of ferocious fighting, inflicted heavy losses on the Japanese and forced them to retreat toward Juxian. On the western route, the Seya Detachment (roughly a brigade) of the Japanese 10th Division crossed the Grand Canal from Jining and attacked Jiaxiang, meeting stiff resistance from the Third Army and being thwarted, while continuing to advance south along the Jinpu Railway. The Isogai Division, advancing on the northern route without awaiting help from the southeast and east, moved southward from Liangxiadian, south of Zouxian, on March 14, with the plan to strike Tengxian, present-day Tengzhou on March 15 and push south toward Xuzhou. The defending 22nd Army and the 41st Corps fought bravely and suffered heavy casualties in a hard battle that lasted until March 17, during which Wang Mingzhang, commander of the 122nd Division defending Teng County, was killed in action. Meanwhile, a separate Japanese thrust under Itagaki Seishirō landed on the Jiaodong Peninsula and occupied Qingdao, advancing along the Jiaoji Line to strike Linyi, a key military town in southern Shandong. Pang Bingxun's 40th Army engaged the invaders in fierce combat, and later, elements of Zhang Zizhong's 333rd Brigade of the 111th Division, reinforced by the 57th Army, joined Pang Bingxun's forces to launch a double-sided pincer that temporarily repelled the Japanese attack on Linyi. By late March 1938 a frightening reality loomed: the Japanese were close to prevailing on the Xuzhou front. The North China Area Army, commanded by Itagaki Seishirō, Nishio Toshizō, and Isogai Rensuke, was poised to link up with the Central China Expeditionary Force under Hata Shunroku in a united drive toward central China. Li Zongren, together with his senior lieutenants Bai Chongxi and Tang Enbo, decided to confront the invaders at Taierzhuang, the traditional stone-walled city that would become a focal point of their defense. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Nanjing falls after one of humanities worst atrocities. Chiang Kai-Shek's war command has been pushed to Wuhan, but the Japanese are not stopping their advance. Trautmann's mediation is over and now Japan has its sights on Xuzhou and its critical railway junctions. Japan does not realize it yet, but she is now entering a long war of attrition.

In recorded history, the Yellow River has flooded 1,593 times and changed course 26 times.Support the show

X and xAI lawsuits challenge Apple's plans to integrate OpenAI's chatbot into the operating systems of Apple's products.Musk claims this violates competition law.Experts have developed an AI tool that can help doctors identify people at risk of developing a potentially fatal heart condition known as ‘heart block'.To find out how it works, we speak to senior author and associate professor at Imperial College London, Dr Fu Siong Ng.Plus, what caused a wall of dust to spread through parts of Arizona on Monday?Also in this episode:-A deadly flesh-eating parasite has been found in a human in the US-Warming waters in Japan are killing off a luxury dish-UK adventurer prepares to take on the full stretch of China's Yellow River on foot Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This episode, the podcast takes a look at a poem Mao Zedong wrote in February 1936, after he and his party had undergone the near-death experience of the Long March. Yet still, Mao has the gumption to imply in the poem that he would be the greatest ruler China had ever seen.    My Translation of the Poem: Spring in a Soaked Garden - Snow The north country scenery, frozen over for a thousand miles, snow floating for ten thousand miles.    I look inside and outside the Great Wall of China,  all that remains is boundlessness.    Up and down the Yellow River, it has suddenly lost its surging vigor.   The mountains dance like silver snakes, the plains gallop like white elephants,  I want to compete with Heaven and see which of us is taller.    I must wait for a clear day,  and look at the snowy landscape wrapped in red and white, it's really bewitching.  The rivers and mountains, this land, is so pretty, it has brought out countless heroes to compete and serve the nation.   Pity Qin Shihuang, the first Chinese emperor, and Han Wudi, the greatest Han emperor, their writing ability ain't all that good.    Tang Taizong, the greatest Tang emperor, and Song Taizu, the greatest Song emperor, they kinda lack style.    Those northern barbarian rulers,  like Genghis Khan,  all they knew how to do was shoot arrows at big eagles.    Those guys are all dead, if you want to count the true badasses look to today.     Original Poem:  沁园春·雪 北国风光，千里冰封，万里雪飘。望长城内外，惟余莽莽；大河上下，顿失滔滔。山舞银蛇，原驰蜡象，欲与天公试比高。须晴日，看红装素裹，分外妖娆。 江山如此多娇，引无数英雄竞折腰。惜秦皇汉武，略输文采；唐宗宋祖，稍逊风骚。一代天骄，成吉思汗，只识弯弓射大雕。俱往矣，数风流人物，还看今朝。

Hear about travel to the Silk Road as the Amateur Traveler talks about his recent trip to the Gansu province of China, Buddhist Grottos, stunning landscapes, barren deserts, and the original Great Wall of China. More than 2,000 years ago, Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty sent his prodigy general Huo Qubing to seize the Hexi Corridor from the Xiongnu nomads, founding four fortified outposts—Wuwei, Zhangye, Jiuquan, and Dunhuang—that anchored the eastern Silk Road. Centuries later, the monk Xuanzang left Lanzhou for India along the same desert corridor, returning with Sanskrit scriptures that reshaped Chinese Buddhism. Following their footsteps today reveals grottoes, Great Wall forts, and rainbow-striped badlands that still echo with the sounds of camel bells and caravan legends. Transfer & check‑in: Fly into Zhongchuan Airport and settle downtown. Yellow River walk: Night flavors: Slurp Lanzhou hand‑pulled beef noodles, then graze at a Night Market for local delights. Historic BackgroundDay‑by‑Day ItineraryDay 1 – Arrival in Lanzhou ... https://amateurtraveler.com/travel-the-silk-road-in-gansu-china/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. 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

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. 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

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/chinese-studies

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang.

What happens when a Midwest researcher finds himself face-to-face with a red-eyed creature in the deep woods of Iowa — and then it hurls a log over a six-foot boulder? In this intense and shadowy episode, we sit down with Bob Barhite, a longtime BFRO investigator and veteran of expeditions across the Driftless Area of Iowa. From glowing red eye sightings in Fayette County to terrifying nights at Backbone State Park, Bob recounts hair-raising encounters with creatures that mimic voices, throw objects, and may even use light as communication. You'll hear stories from Yellow River, Blue Mound State Park, the Mines of Spain, and even Mount Hood — including a chilling moment when a Sasquatch reached into a tent, just inches from a man's face. If you're into aggressive encounters, stealthy stalkers, and the mysterious Midwest, you won't want to miss this one.Resources: https://www.lowlandsbigfoot.org

Send us a textWe kick back at one the finest places to grab a pizza and a beer in Northern Indiana, Yellow River Tap and Eatery with the Marshall County Brew Club!! They brought us three Home brews to try while we interview them, Fantasy Draft the the best sandwiches and hit up the reviews of Yolandas!! Check it out!!!Hop Station Craft BarGet Beer, Cocktails, and fab food while enjoying darts, vintage games. Hop Station is hopping!Coastalos SodasUrban Artifact launched our own hemp derived THC brand Coastalo. Made with real fruit!!Niles BrewingUnique Beers and Cocktails! They host events and trivia weekly. Located in downtown Niles, Michigan!TavourUse our promo code 'DrunksWithBuds' for $10 off your second order.Disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase, I may receive a commission at no extra cost to you.Support the show

  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.

  Last time we spoke about the February 26th incident. Within the turbulent “ government of assassination” period of 1936 Japan, a faction of discontented junior officers, known as the Kodoha, believed that their emperor, Hirohito, was being manipulated by corrupt politicians. In a desperate bid for what they termed a "Showa Restoration," they meticulously plotted a coup d'état. On February 26, they launched a rebellion in Tokyo, attempting to assassinate key figures they deemed responsible for undermining the emperor's authority. The young officers executed coordinated attacks on prominent leaders, resulting in several deaths, while hoping to seize control of the Imperial Palace. However, their plan unraveled when their actions met with unexpected resistance, and they failed to secure strategic locations. Dark snow blanketed the city as Hirohito, outraged by the violence, quickly moved to suppress the uprising, which ultimately led to the downfall of the Kodoha faction and solidified the military's grip on power, ushering in a new era marked by militarism and radicalism.   #151 The Suiyuan Operation 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 we last left off with the February 26th incident breaking out in Japan, but now I would like to return to China. Now we spoke a little bit about some influential Japanese politicians in the previous episode. Prime Minister Satio Makoto oversaw Japan from May 1932 to July 1934, succeeded by Prime Minister Keisuke Okada from July 1934 to March 1936. The foreign policy of Japan towards China during the Saitō and Okada administrations exhibited a notable paradox, characterized by two conflicting elements. On one hand, Foreign Minister Hirota championed a diplomatic approach that emphasized friendship, cooperation, and accommodation with China. On the other hand, the military actively undermined the authority of the Nationalist government in northern China, creating a significant rift between diplomatic rhetoric and military action.    The Okada cabinet then endorsed the Army Ministry's "Outline of Policy to Deal with North China" on January 13, 1936. This policy document explicitly proposed the eventual detachment of five provinces, Hubei, Chahar, Shanxi, Suiyuan, and Shandong from the Nationalist government in Nanking. The approval of this outline marked a pivotal moment, as it represented the first official government endorsement of the military's longstanding agenda and underscored the army's evolution from a mere rogue entity operating in the region to the de facto authority dictating the course of Japan's policy towards China. Despite this, on January 22, during the 68th Diet session, Hirota reaffirmed his dedication to fostering better ties with China, to which a representative from the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs responded positively. The Nationalist government in Nanjing also expressed interest in engaging in formal negotiations. However, this diplomatic initiative quickly faltered, and the expected discussions in Nanjing never took place. Shortly thereafter, a mutiny by young army officers on February 26, 1936, led to the fall of the Okada cabinet. Following Prince Konoe Fumimaro's refusal of the imperial mandate to form a new government, Hirota stepped in to establish a cabinet on March 9. General Terauchi Hisaichi was appointed as the Minister of the Army, Admiral Nagano Osami took charge of the Navy Ministry, and Baba Eiichi became the finance minister. Hirota briefly served as foreign minister until Arita Hachirö, who had just submitted his credentials as ambassador to China on March 6, returned to Japan. The Hirota Koki cabinet, established immediately following the February 26 incident further entrenched military influence in politics while allowing interservice rivalries to impede national objectives. In May 1936, Hirota, influenced by army and navy ministers, reinstated the practice of appointing military ministers solely from the ranks of high-ranking active-duty officers. He believed this would prevent associations with the discredited Imperial Way faction from regaining power. By narrowing the candidate pool and enhancing the army's power relative to the prime minister, Hirota's decision set the stage for army leaders to leverage this advantage to overthrow Admiral Yonai's cabinet in July 1940. Arita began his new job by meeting with Foreign Minister Chang Chen while hearing views from the Kwantung Army chief of staff General, Itagaki Seishiro. Yes, our old friend received a lot of promotions. Itagaki had this to say about the Kwantung Army's policy in China "The primary aim of Japan's foreign policy, is the sound development of Manchukuo based upon the principle of the indivisibility of Japan and Manchukuo. If, as is probable, the existing situation continues, Japan is destined sooner or later to clash with the Soviet Union, and the attitude of China at that time will gravely influence operations [against the Soviet Union]." The Kwantung Army's was growing more and more nervous about the USSR following its 7th comintern congress held in July and August of 1935. There it publicly designated Japan, Germany and Poland as its main targets of comintern actions. Japanese intelligence in the Red Army also knew the Soviets were gradually planning to expand the military strength so they could face a simultaneous west and east front war. This was further emboldened by the latest USSR 5 year plan. Alongside the growing Red northern menace, the CCP issued on August 1st a declaration calling upon the Nationalist Government to end their civil war so they could oppose Japan. By this time the CCP was reaching the end of its Long March and organizing a new base of operations in Yenan in northern Shanxi. The developments by the USSR and CCP had a profound effect on Japan's foreign policy in China. The Kwantung Army believed a war with the USSR was imminent and began to concentrate its main force along the border of Manchukuo. The Kwantung Army's plan in the case of war was to seize Vladivostok while advancing motorized units towards Ulan Bator in Outer Mongolia, hoping to threaten the Trans-Siberian Railway near Lake Baikal. Their intelligence indicated the USSR could muster a maximum of 250,000 troops in eastern Siberia and that Japan could deal with them with a force two-thirds of that number. The IJA at that point had inferior air forces and armaments, thus urgent funding was needed. The Kwantung Army proposed that forces in the home islands should be reduced greatly so all could be concentrated in Manchuria. To increase funding so Kwantung leadership proposed doing away with special allowances for Japanese officials in Manchuria and reorganizing the Japanese economic structure. The Kwantung leaders also knew the submarine base at Vladivostok posed a threat to Japanese shipping so the IJN would have to participate, especially against ports and airfields. All said and done, the Kwantung Army planned for a war set in 1941 and advised immediate preparations. On July 23, 1936, Kanji Ishiwara presented the army's document titled “Request Concerning the Development of Industries in Preparation for War” to the Army Ministry. He asserted that in order to prepare for potential conflict with the Soviet Union, Japan, Manchukuo, and North China must have the industries critical for war fully developed by 1941. Ishiwara emphasized the urgent need for rapid industrial growth, particularly in Manchukuo. He followed this request on July 29 with a draft of a “Policy on Preparations for War” regarding the Soviet Union, advocating for immediate reforms to Japan's political and economic systems to facilitate economic expansion and lay the groundwork for future fundamental changes. However, he cautioned that if significant turmoil erupted in economic sectors, Japan must be ready to execute a comprehensive overhaul without delay. At the same time, the Hirota cabinet initiated a review of its policy towards China. In the spring of 1936, a secret committee focused on the Current Situation was formed, consisting of officials from the Army, Navy, and Foreign ministries. Their discussions led to the adoption of the "Measures to Implement Policy toward China" by the Four Ministers Conference on August 11, along with the "Second Outline of Policy to Address North China," which the cabinet approved as part of the "Fundamentals of National Policy" on the same day. The first of these documents outlined the following actionable steps: “1. Conclusion of an anti-Communist military pact. a) To prepare for the conclusion of such a pact, a special secret committee of military experts from both countries should be organized. b) Their discussions should cover the scope and substance of the pact and ways and means of realizing the objectives of the pact.  2. Conclusion of a Sino-Japanese military alliance. A special secret committee, composed of an equal number of delegates from each nation, should be organized to prepare for the conclusion of an offensive and defensive alliance against attack by a third country.  3. Acceleration of solutions of pending questions between China and Japan. a) Engagement of a senior political adviser: The Nationalist government should engage a senior Japanese political adviser to assist in the conduct of the domestic and foreign affairs of the Nationalist government. b) Engagement of military advisers: The Nationalist government should engage military advisers, along with military instructors. c) Opening of airline services between China and Japan: Airline services between China and Japan should be opened immediately. To realize such a service, various means should be used to induce the Nanking authorities to establish an airline corporation in North China, to begin flights between Formosa and Fukien province, and to start test flights between Shanghai and Fukuoka. d) Conclusion of a reciprocal tariff treaty: A reciprocal tariff treaty should be concluded promptly between China and Japan, on the basis of the policy approved by the ministries concerned, with regard to the abolition of the special trade in eastern Hopei province and the lowering of the prohibitively high tariffs. For this purpose Japan should, if necessary, propose the creation of a special committee composed of Japanese and Chinese representatives.  4. Promotion of economic cooperation between China and Japan. Japan should promote cooperation with the common people of China to establish realistic and inseparable economic relations between China and Japan that will promote coexistence and co-prosperity and will be unaffected by changes in the Chinese political situation. “ The document also included suggestions for Japan's economic expansion into South China. This included tapping into the natural resources of the provinces of Fujian, Guangdong, and Guangxi, building a railway between Guangzhou and Swatow, and establishing air routes between Fuchoz and Taipei, which would connect to services in Japan and Thailand. It also called for survey teams to be dispatched to explore the resources of Sichuan, Gansu, Xinjiang, and Qinghai provinces, and for support to be provided to the independence movement in Inner Mongolia. However, these initiatives presented significant challenges. The preface to the "Second Outline of Policy to Deal with North China" cautioned, "In implementing this policy, we must carefully consider the Nanking government's prestige and avoid actions that could prompt it to adopt an anti-Japanese stance in response to the desires of the Chinese people."  On September 19th, six fundamental points for a settlement in North China were dictated to China to “establish a common defense against communism, promoting economic cooperation, lowering tariffs, initiating an airline service between the two nations, employing Japanese advisers, and controlling subversive Koreans." September 22 was set as the deadline for a response from China. While agreeing to some Japanese requests, the Chinese included several counter-demands that the Japanese found completely unacceptable. These demands required Japan to “(a) refrain from using armed intervention or arbitrary actions in its dealings with China, (b) recognize China as an equal and sovereign state, (c) avoid leveraging antigovernment groups or communist elements, and (d) remove any derogatory references to China from Japanese textbooks. The Chinese also insisted that any agreement regarding North China “must precede the annulment of the Tanggu and Shanghai cease-fire agreements, the disbanding of the East Hopei regime, a prohibition on unauthorized Japanese flights over North China, a ban on smuggling activities by Japanese, the restoration of China's right to control smuggling, and the disbandment of the illegal East Hopei government along with the armies of Wang Ying and Prince De in Suiyuan”. Now that mention of a Prince De in Suiyuan brings us to a whole new incident. This podcast series should almost be called “the history of Japanese related incidents in China”. Now we've spoken at great lengths about Japan's obsession with Manchuria. She wanted it for resources, growing space and as a buffer state. Japan also had her eyes set on Inner Mongolia to be used as a buffer state between Manchukuo, the USSR and China proper. Not to mention after the invasion of North China, Inner Mongolia could be instrumental as a wedge to be used to control Northern China. Thus the Kwantung Army began fostering a Mongolian independence movement back in August of 1933. They did so through a special organ led by chief of the general staff Koiso Kuniaki. He began work with the Silingol League led by Prince Sonormurabdan or “Prince So” and another influential Mongol, Prince Demchukdongrob or “Prince De”. Prince De was the West Sunid Banner in Northern Chahar. Likewise the Kwantung Army was grooming Li Xuxin, a Mongol commoner born in southern Manchuria. He had been a bandit turned soldier absorbed into Zhang Xueliangs army. Li had distinguished himself in a campaign against a group of Mongols trying to restore the Qing dynasty to further establish an independent Mongolia. During Operation Nekka Li had served in a cavalry brigade under Zu Xingwu, reputed to be the best unit in Zhang Xueliangs Northeastern border defense army. He led the army's advance unit into western Shandong. Afterwards Li suddenly became friends with Major Tanaka Hisashi, the head of the Special Service Agency at Dungliao where he defected to the Kwantung Army. He soon was leading a force too strong to be incorporated into the Manchukuo Army, thus it was disbanded, but his Kwantung Army buddies encouraged him to move to Tolun in Rehe province. At one point during the Nekka campaign, Li's army was threatened by a strong Chinese counterattack, but they had Manchukuo air support allowing them to capture Tolun. This victory launched what became the East Chahar Special Autonomous District with Li becoming a garrison commander and chief administrator.  Back in time, upon the founding of the Chinese Republic, the affairs of Inner Mongolia fell upon the Bureau of Mongolian and Tibetan Affairs. This was reorganized in 1930 into the Commission on Mongolian and Tibetan Affairs when the provinces of Chahar, Suiyuan and Ningxia were organized. Prince De had been a member of a nationalist group known as the Young Mongols, although his aim was self-determination for Inner Mongolia within China, not independence. The Nationalist government's support for Chinese settlement in Mongol territories and its disregard for Mongol perspectives quickly triggered a rise in Mongol nationalism and anti-Chinese feelings. This was exacerbated by the government's introduction of a law on October 12, 1931, requiring local Mongolian administrative units to consult with hsien officials on matters concerning their administration. The nationalist sentiment was further fueled by the presence of the neighboring Mongolian People's Republic in Outer Mongolia and the establishment of Xingan province in western Manchuria by Manchukuo authorities in March 1932. This new province included the tribes of eastern Inner Mongolia and granted them greater autonomy than other Manchukuo provinces while banning Chinese immigration into it. When Nanjing did not react to these developments, Prince De and his supporters took steps toward gaining autonomy. On July 15th, 1933, Mongol leaders from western Inner Mongolia gathered at Pailingmiao for two weeks to deliberate on a declaration for regional independence. Although many princes were initially hesitant to take this step, they reconvened on August 14 and sent a cable to Nanjing announcing their decision to create an autonomous Mongolian government. The cable was signed by Prince So and Prince De. Over the following two months, additional conferences at Pailingmiao were held to organize the new government, which would operate under Nanking's guidance but without involvement from provincial chairmen. On October 22, Prince Yun, head of the Ulanchap League and a close ally of Prince De, was elected to lead the new regime, with Prince De assuming the role of chief of its political affairs bureau. After receiving a cable from the Mongolian leaders in August, Nanjing quickly sent Minister of the Interior Huang Shao-hung and Xu Qingyang, head of the Commission on Mongolian and Tibetan Affairs, to halt the movement. However, the Mongols declined to travel to Kalgan or Kueisui to meet Huang. In November, as the leader of a special commission appointed by Nanjing, Huang reached an agreement with Yun De and other Mongolian leaders concerning a proposal that abandoned the Mongols' demand for an autonomous government. This agreement was later altered by Nanjing, and its essential points were excluded from a measure approved by the Central Political Council of the Kuomintang on January 17, 1934. The dispute reignited, fueled by the Nationalist government's rising concerns over the anticipated enthronement of Pu Yi in Manchukuo. On February 28, the Central Political Council enacted a measure that outlined "eight principles of Inner Mongolian autonomy" and created the Mongolian Local Autonomous Political Council. Since these principles did not grant authority over foreign and military affairs, powers explicitly reserved for the central government in the January measure, they were seen as a concession to the Mongols and were accepted. On March 7, the central government issued regulations to establish a semi autonomous regime for Inner Mongolia, which was officially launched at Pailingmiao on April 23. Although the council was led by three moderate princes, Prince Yun, supported by Princes So and Sha, the real administrative authority was held by Prince De, who served as the secretary-general. Most of the twenty-five council members were of Mongolian royalty, through whom Prince De aimed to fulfill his objectives. Nevertheless, the Nationalist government seemed to consider the council merely a token gesture to placate De, as Nanking never provided the promised administrative funds outlined in the "eight principle declaration." Was not much of a shock Prince De sought support from the Kwantung Army, which had established contact with him as early as June 1934. Japanese pressures in North China were starting to alter the power dynamics, and after the first Western incident in Jehol in February 1935, it compelled the relocation of Sung Queyuan's army from Chahar to Hopei, providing encouragement to Prince De. In May, he met with Kwantung Army Vice Chief of Staff Itagaki Seishirö, Intelligence Section Chief Kawabe Torashirö, and staff officer Tanaka Ryükichi, where he was officially informed for the first time about the Kwantung Army's intention to assist him. On July 25, the Kwantung Army drafted its "Essentials of Policy toward Inner Mongolia," which regarded Japanese support for cooperation between De and Li Xuxin as part of their strategic preparations for a potential conflict with the Soviet Union. Shortly after this policy was adopted, a conflict arose over who had the authority to appoint the head of the Mongol Xukung banner, situated north of the Yellow River and Paot'ou. Following the death of the previous administrator, Prince Xu declared that he had taken control of the position. In response to a request from the local abbot, Prince Yun, acting in his capacity as chairman of the Mongolian Political Council, dismissed Xu. Xu then turned to Nanking through Suiyuan Provincial Chairman Fu Zuoyi, arguing that the central government held the authority to appoint heads of administrative units. In retaliation, Prince De dispatched troops to Xukung. On November 10, Fu presented a mediation proposal, which was rejected since it not only failed to acknowledge Shih's dismissal but also demanded the withdrawal of De's forces. De refused to pull back, further intensifying his hostility toward the Nanking government. In December, the Kwantung Army attempted to move Li's forces from eastern Chahar into the six Xun to the north of Kalgan, which serves as Chahar's granary. Following the Qin-Doihara agreement, Matsui Gennosuke from the Kalgan Special Service Agency secured a deal to separate these six districts from the southern region predominantly populated by Chinese; a Mongolian peace preservation corps was tasked with maintaining order in the northern area, while a Chinese corps was responsible for the south. During the discussions for an autonomous regime centered around Song Queyuan in North China in November 1935, Kwantung Army troops were concentrated around Gubeikou. To exert pressure on Song's rear, the Kwantung Army proposed replacing the Chinese peace preservation unit in the area north of Kalgan with Li Xuxin's army, which would establish this territory as its base.   The operation commenced on December 8. In a surprise attack just before dawn, Li captured Paochang. By December 12, despite facing strong Chinese resistance and the heaviest snowfall in sixty years, Li, aided by Kwantung Army planes disguised as those of the Manchukuo Airline Corporation, had taken control of Kuyuan. Further advances were halted by an order from Kwantung Army headquarters, and on December 13, it was reported that, had the operation not been stopped, Tokyo would have issued an imperial command. The operation had faced opposition from the Tientsin army, which feared it would weaken Song Queyuan's position just as they were informing Tokyo that the autonomy movement was going smoothly. Additionally, both Britain and the United States publicly expressed strong opposition to the Kwantung Army's involvement in the autonomy movement. However, the directive was ultimately prompted by the emperor's anger upon discovering that a unit of the Kwantung Army led by Colonel Matsui Takurö had advanced to Tolun to support Li's progress. Although Li's advance was halted, the operation undeniably contributed to the formation of the Hopei-Chahar Political Council.   Although the operation was halted, the Kwantung Army remained committed to its objectives. They contended that Li's army's advance into the six districts north of Kalgan was merely a peace preservation unit moving into territory within the truce line established by the Tanggu Agreement. Consequently, on December 29, they ordered Li to advance southward. Li peacefully occupied Changpei the following day and entered Shangtu on December 31. Manchukuo civil officials were appointed to oversee the six districts, and the currency of Manchukuo was introduced, although the existing tax system initially remained unchanged. The Kwantung Army allocated silver worth 6 million yuan to support administrative expenses. This outcome, known as the Eastern Chahar incident, marked a complete success for the Kwantung Army, which then redirected its focus toward Suiyuan Province. Each year, the Kwantung Army developed a secret plan for covert operations for the following year. The 1936 plan included strategies to secure air bases for routes connecting Europe and Asia, targeting Tsinghai and Sinkiang provinces, Outer Mongolia, Western Mongolia, and even remote areas of Ningxia province. In January 1936, staff officer Tanaka Ryūkichi formulated a document titled "Essentials of Policy Toward (Northwestern) Inner Mongolia." This document advocated for the establishment of a Mongolian military government to facilitate Japanese operations in northwestern Mongolia and suggested pushing Fu Tso-yi out of Suiyuan into Shansi province. Tanaka's proposals were incorporated into the final plan of the Kwantung Army, ultimately leading to the Suiyuan incident of November 1936. In February 1936, a meeting at Pailingmiao, where Prince De proposed the independence of Inner Mongolia, resulted in the departure of Prince So and several other Mongolian leaders from the coalition. They sought to establish a rival political council at Kueisui under the protection of Fu Zuoyi. By April, De and his supporters decided to form a military government at Tehua in Chahar, which was officially inaugurated in June as the Inner Mongolian government, headed by De with Li Shou-hsin as his deputy. This new government quickly signed a mutual assistance treaty with Manchukuo, and the emperor granted De the title of prince.   In July, at a conference in Tehua, Tanaka was appointed as the head of the Special Service Agency for Inner Mongolia with the mission of implementing the army's Intelligence Section plans. He traveled to Pingtiqüan alongside Chief of Staff Itagaki and Intelligence Chief Mutō Akira to propose a local anti-Communist agreement to Fu. After failing to convince Fu, he attempted to persuade Sun Tien-ying to form a puppet army but managed to recruit only a bandit from Suiyuan, Wang Ying. The February 26 mutiny in Tokyo heightened anti-Japanese sentiments in China, resulting in increased violence. By August, the construction of an airplane hangar in Paot'ou was halted due to riots by local Chinese residents. On August 13, a group of fifteen Japanese, led by Nakajima Manzo, was ambushed while delivering ammunition to a pro-Japanese leader who was shortly thereafter assassinated. Chinese soldiers from Wang Qingkuo's 70th Division carried out the attack, and tensions escalated as the arrival of ammunition and Japanese laborers in Kalgan prompted border villages to strengthen their defenses.   By late September, Tanaka's "Guidelines for the Execution of the Suiyuan Operation" received approval, with operations set to commence in early November. The plan evolved from a covert mission into a personal initiative by Tanaka, financed largely through funds from the Kwantung Army's secret services and profits from special trading in eastern Hopei. Tanaka claimed to have transported 600,000 yen to Tehua in October and later sent 200,000 yuan into Inner Mongolia, estimating total expenses at approximately 6 million yen. He acquired new weaponry from the disbanded Northeast Army and established three clandestine forces: Wang Ying led 500 men, including artillery; Qin Xiashan commanded 3,000 from Sun Tienying's army; and Chang Futang also led 3,000 specialized units. During strategic meetings, Tanaka dismissed proposals for unified command and refusing to integrate secret units into the Mongolian army. He advocated for the slogan "Overthrow Chiang Kai-shek," while Matsui managed to include "Independence for Inner Mongolia."   The Japanese had developed the entire battle strategy. The 1st Army, commanded by Li Xuxin, would serve as the left flank, while the 2nd Army, led by Demchugdongrub, would be positioned on the right. Wang Ying's forces were designated as the central force. Their initial targets would be Hongort, Xinghe, Tuchengzi, and Guisui city, followed by a division to seize Jinging, Baotou, and Hetao. On November 13, Prince Demchugdongrub's and Wang Ying's forces left Shandu in two columns to assault Xinghe and Hongort. By the 15th, 1,500 troops reached Hongort, where they engaged the 1st Cavalry Division led by Peng Yubin. The next day, Ryukichi Tanaka, Demchugdongrub's chief advisor, sent two cavalry brigades and one infantry brigade to capture the town, effectively overrunning its defenders. Meanwhile, Wang Ying dispatched a smaller group to secure Tuchengzi.   Fu Zuoyi established his headquarters in Jining that same day. After assessing the situation, he concluded that if the enemy secured Hongort, it would diminish his defenders' morale. Consequently, he launched a counterattack. Peng Yubin led a joint force of the 1st Cavalry Division and Dong Qiwu's 218th Brigade to confront around 400 of Wang Ying's men defending Hongort and Tuchengzi. By 7 AM on the 18th, Tuchengzi was reclaimed, and at 8:30 AM, the 1st Cavalry Division entered Hongort, charging through 500 of Wang Ying's soldiers. The struggle for Hongort persisted for over three days, resulting in nearly 1,000 casualties before Fu Zuoyi regained control.   As the tide shifted against the invaders, Fu Zuoyi initiated an offensive toward the Bailing Temple, the rear base of the enemy, well-stocked and defended by 3,000 men under Prince Demchugdongrub. Fu Zuoyi ordered the 2nd Cavalry Division, along with the 211th and 315th Brigades, the 21st Artillery Regiment, and a convoy of 20 trucks and 24 armored vehicles to assault the Bailing Temple as quickly as possible. Taking advantage of the Mongolian chaos, Fu Zuoyi's 35th Brigade executed a flanking maneuver west of the Bailing Temple amid a severe snowstorm.   At 1 AM on the 24th, the battle for the Bailing Temple commenced as the Chinese engaged the Mongolians for the fortified positions around the temple. From 2 to 4 AM, the Chinese advanced closer to the temple walls, facing artillery and machine-gun fire. They launched desperate frontal assaults against the city gates, suffering heavy losses. A fierce stalemate ensued, with Japanese aerial bombardments causing significant casualties to the Chinese forces. Fu Zuoyi subsequently ordered all armored vehicles to converge at the main city gate. Despite intense fire, the armored cars managed to breach the gate, allowing Chinese infantry to flood into the temple area. The resulting carnage within the temple walls led to 900 Mongol deaths, with 300 captured as the rest fled. The Chinese suffered 300 casualties but secured the strategically vital rear base, along with a substantial stockpile of provisions, including 500 barrels of petrol, 600 rifles, 10 machine guns, vehicles, and field guns. Following the devastating defeat at Bailing Temple, the invaders regrouped at Xilamuleng Temple. On the 28th, the Japanese sent 100 vehicles to transport 3,000 troops to prepare for a significant counteroffensive to recapture Bailing Temple. On the 29th, Wang Ying personally led 2,000 cavalry north of Shangdu to Taolin in an attempt to contain the enemy. However, after he left the bulk of his forces at Xilamuleng Temple, officers from the Grand Han Righteous Army secretly began negotiating to defect to the Chinese side, undermining the forces needed for the counterattack against Bailing Temple.   The counteroffensive commenced on December 2nd, with 10 armored vehicles and 1,000 Mongol troops leading the charge at 6 AM. They were pushed back by the heavily fortified 211th Brigade, which was well-supplied with machine guns and artillery. The following day, at 3 AM, the Mongols attempted a surprise attack but faced an ambush as they crept toward the temple. They incurred hundreds of casualties, with 230 men either captured or having defected. After this, the counterattack stalled, as the Mongol forces couldn't approach within 3 miles of the temple. Subsequently, the Chinese 2nd Cavalry Division launched a pincer maneuver, causing significant casualties among the invaders. By 9 AM, the enemy had suffered 500 casualties and was in retreat. At 7 PM, Fu Zuoyi ordered another counteroffensive. By the next morning, hundreds more had been lost, and several hundred soldiers were captured. With such heavy losses, the defense of Xilamuleng Temple weakened significantly, prompting more officers to defect to the Chinese. Late on the 4th, Fu Zuoyi assembled a force comprising two cavalry regiments, one infantry regiment, one artillery battalion, four armored vehicles, and a squadron of cars to launch a nighttime assault on Xilamuleng Temple.   Meanwhile, the 2nd Cavalry Division clashed with Wang Ying's cavalry 30 miles northeast of Wulanhua. Wang Ying's 2,000 cavalry had been raiding nearby villages to create diversions, drawing enemy forces away from the Bailing-Xilamuleng theater. By the 9th, Wang Ying's cavalry were encircled in Xiaobei, where they were nearly annihilated, with Wang escaping with around a hundred guards toward Changpei. On the 7th, some Grand Han Righteous Army officers set in motion plans to defect to the Chinese side. Early on the 9th, these officers led their men to invade the residence of Japanese advisors, killing all 27 Japanese officers under Colonel Obama. Simultaneously, Fu Zuoyi's forces executed a flanking maneuver against the Xilamuleng Temple amidst the chaos. With mass defections, the Chinese forces surged into the temple area, resulting in the invader army disintegrating in confusion and surrender. After seizing the temple, the invaders were routed, their lines of communication severed, and only isolated pockets continued to resist. Taking advantage of the confusion, Fu Zuoyi launched simultaneous attacks, attempting to capture Shangdu. However, Yan Xishan sent him a telegram, ordering him to halt, stating that Shangdu fell under the jurisdiction of Shanxi and not Suiyuan.   In response to the loss, Tanaka planned a counteroffensive with Qin's troops, but Chiang kai-shek commanded a strong defense of Pailingmiao, successfully outmaneuvering Tanaka's strategies. The resurgence of Chinese forces led to the disintegration of Qin's troops, who revolted and eventually joined the Nationalist army. The Kwantung Army aimed to redeploy its forces for recovery but faced opposition from Tokyo, which criticized the situation. After Chiang kai-shek was kidnapped by Zhang Xueliang on December 12, Tanaka and Prince De seized the opportunity to reassess their strategy. Ultimately, the Kwantung Army decided to abandon efforts to reclaim Pailingmiao, marking the official end of hostilities on December 21. The Suiyuan incident ultimately strengthened Chinese resolve against Japan and increased international distrust.   The defeat of Japan's proxy forces inspired many Chinese to advocate for a more vigorous resistance against the Japanese. The triumph in Suiyuan was celebrated throughout China and surprised the international media, marking the first occasion where the Chinese army successfully halted a Japanese unit. Delegations traveled from as distant as southern Chinese provinces to encourage the defenders to continue their fight. Captured Japanese weapons and equipment served as proof of Japan's involvement in the conflict, despite Japan's Foreign Minister Hachirō Arita claiming that "Japan was not involved in this conflict in Suiyuan at all." After his defeat, Prince Demchugdongrub and his Inner Mongolian troops retreated to northern Chahar, where he had to reconstruct his army due to significant losses. The Japanese implemented new regulations for the Mongolian Army to enhance its effectiveness, and efforts to recruit new soldiers commenced.   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. More incidents and more battles to seize territory raged in North China. However things did not go according to plan for the Japanese and their puppets. The tides had turned, and now a more angry and invigorating China would begin lashing out against the encroachment. It was only a matter of time before a full blown war was declared. 

fWotD Episode 2924: Guandimiao Welcome to Featured Wiki of the Day, your daily dose of knowledge from Wikipedia's finest articles.The featured article for Wednesday, 7 May 2025, is Guandimiao.Guandimiao (Chinese: 关帝庙遗址; pinyin: Guāndìmiào yízhǐ; lit. 'Guandi temple ruins') is a Chinese archaeological site 18 km (11 miles) south of the Yellow River in Xingyang, Henan. It is the site of a small Late Shang village that was inhabited from roughly 1250 to 1100 BCE. Located 200 km (120 miles) from the site of the Shang dynasty capital at Yinxu in Anyang, the site was first studied as a part of excavations undertaken between 2006 and 2008 in preparation for the nearby South–North Water Transfer Project. Excavation and study at Guandimiao has significantly broadened scholars' understanding of rural Shang economies and rituals, as well as the layout of rural villages, which had received comparatively little attention compared to urban centers like Yinxu and Huanbei.Calculations derived from the number of graves and pit-houses at Guandimiao suggest a maximum population of around 100 individuals at the site's peak during the early 12th century BCE. The presence of 23 kilns suggests large-scale regional exports of ceramics from the village. Residents used bone tools, including many that were locally produced, as well as sophisticated arrowheads and hairpins likely imported from Anyang, where facilities produced them en masse. Local ritual practice is evidenced by the presence of locally produced oracle bones used in pyromancy and large sacrificial pits where mainly cattle had been buried, alongside a smaller number of pigs and (rarely) humans. Over 200 graves were found at the site. Apart from an almost complete absence of grave goods beyond occasional cowrie shells and sacrificed dogs, they generally resemble shaft tombs found elsewhere in ancient China.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:58 UTC on Wednesday, 7 May 2025.For the full current version of the article, see Guandimiao on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm standard Geraint.

Last time we spoke about the Battle for the Great Wall of China. In 1933, the Kwantung Army faced logistical struggles and sought political deals with Chinese warlords to seize North China. Despite capturing key areas, chaos reigned as their unauthorized operations defied Tokyo's orders. When Emperor Hirohito demanded a withdrawal, the army reluctantly complied, derailing a coup attempt. Though peace talks followed, distrust persisted, and rogue Japanese commanders plotted fresh offensives. The Tanggu truce was anything but fair to China. The Japanese followed it up with continuous negotiations aimed at slicing more and more out of China. By 1935 North China was practically annexed if but all in official terms. The Japanese seized postal rights, train rights, airline rights, set up puppets to police a new demilitarized zone and seemed never appeased fully. Yet they did not only have their eye on Northern China.    #149 Incidents in North China: Operation Chahar 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. May 1935, marked the peak of Sino-Japanese efforts at reconciliation. Yet this quickly fell apart in June as the Kwantung Army continued to encroach in North China. More specifically they began to look at Chahar province. Between January and May of 1935 some 50 instances of anti-Japanese violence had broken out in North China and behind these outbursts seemed to be Yu Xuecheng, the chairman of Hubei's provincial Government. He was not alone in his efforts as many KMT members, generals in the Central Army and Blue Shirt Society also had helping hands to play. The Japanese were particularly infuriated by incessant attacks from the bandit army led by Sun Yungqin and the assassinations of two pro-Japanese figures operating in Tientsin, Pai Yuhuan and Hu Enpu. Even with th support of the Kwantung Army, maintaining law and order in the demilitarized region established by the Tanggu Trace proved a serious undertaking. The Nanjing government tried exploit the situation, encouraging Sun Yungqin's bandits to create chaos in the demilitarized region. Sun Yungqin's bandit frequently crossed the Great Wall into Rehe in raids. Each time the Kwantung Army attempted to catch them as they fled into the demilitarized region. They particularly liked to do so in the Zunhua district where the official He Xiaoyi supplied the bandits with munitions and provisions. On May 17th, the Kwantung Army was fed up and elected to cross the Great Wall to crush Sun Yungqin once and for all. The Japanese army attache at Peiping, Major Takahasi Tan, notified the Chinese authorities of this decision, claiming the Kwantung Army had the authority to do so under certain provisions within the Tanggu agreement. Beginning on May 20th, the Sugihara Mixed Brigade began its hunt and claimed to have uncovered evidence that Yu Xuecheng had helped guide Sun Yingqin's bandits away from their force. The Japanese also argued the bandits were operating in Manchuria and were calling themselves the “Northeastern Patriotic Volunteers” led by General He Yingqing, the current chairman of the Peiping Branch Military Council.  The bandits were said to have been completely crushed within 5 days by a single brigade. The Japanese also forced the resignation of Yu Xuecheng who refused to organize an anti-chiang kai-shek movement. Shortly before the operation launched, two pro-Japanese newspaper publishers, secretly supported by the Japanese Special Service Agency were assassinated in Tientsin. On May 2nd, Hu Enpu of the Kuochuan pao “national rights” was shot in bed at the Peiyang Hotel in the Japanese concession. That same night, Pai Yuhuan of Chen Pa was murdered in his home. Consul General Kawagoe reported to Tokyo, Hu Enpu and Pai Yuhuan were performing a mission through their newspapers to arouse anti-chiang Kai-shek sentiment in North China. As stated by Kawagoe "Hu and Pai did not have a particularly close personal relationship, but they were regarded with extreme suspicion by the Chinese. Since they were assassinated on the same night, we immediately suspected there was some political intrigue behind these crimes."   Japanese police looked into the matter and discovered the criminals had used a car bearing the plate number 1063 which was owned by Shen Qucheng who was a resident of the Japanese concession. Many suspects were interrogated, and given what they were saying, the Japanese suspected the man behind the assassinations was General Yang Hu, the peace preservation commissioners of Shanghai and an alleged member of the Blue Shirt Society. The Japanese also believed Yang Hu was hiding in the French concessions in Shanghai. In protest of this, the Japanese invoked the Boxer Protocol and Tanggu Truce: “1) The Sun incident and the assassinations of the pro-Japan, proManchukuo newspaperpublishers violated the North China [T'angku] Cease-fire Agreement of May 1933. The North China Cease-fire Agreement stipulated that China would not take any action disturbing the peac e on either side of a line from Lut'ai to Paoti and T'ungchou. The above provision extends to all of China and should of course be applied to any defiant deeds of Chines e officials that threaten the peac e in the Peiping-Tientsin region. The Sun incident and the assassinations of Pai and Hu are clearly contrary to the above agreement.  2) The official note exchanged by China and Japan upon the return of Tientsin in 1902 is applicabl e to the murder of Pai Yühuan. This note stated: "In the event a Chines e national who is employed by a foreign army is accused of disobeying the law, the commander of the army that employs the said Chines e national, in order that the matter may be decided in the most suitable manner has the option of punishing him personally or voluntarily delivering him to the appropriate Chinese authorities. Your government must agree to this arrangement.” Since Pai, as already stated, was in the employ of the Japanese army, his murder is clearly a deed which violates the above note."  Thus the Japanese invoked the right that the commander of the Tientsin garrison had the authority to maintain security and try any criminals. Because the Japanese Army claimed it had authority to conduct investigations, trials and deal punishment within two miles of the Peiping-Shanhaigaun rail line it insisted to do so given the recent events. This actually distorted some of the specifics of the Tanggu Treaty, thus the Japanese were on loose grounds. On May 25th, Tokyo HQ was forewarned of the actions the Kwantung Army would undertake in North China. So Tokyo sent Colonel Sakai Takashi the Tientsin army chief of staff and attache Takahasi Tan called upon Yu Qiaqi, the secretary general of the Political affairs council and General He Yingqin. In fact Sakai backed this up with a threatening public statement: “The execution of anti-Manchukuo plots under the direction of the Chinese authorities, assistance to the "Chinese Patriotic Volunteer Forces," and various acts of terrorism directed against Japan are destructive of the cease-fire agreement. The headquarters for these crimes are in Tientsin and Peiping. Should this state of affairs continue, it will become necessary to incorporate the above two cities in the demilitarized zone. The murders of Hu and Pai are violations of the provisions of the Boxer Settlement and a challenge to Japan. If similar acts hereafter occur, Japan will, on the basis of its treaty rights, be forced to consider what action is necessary for the defense of its rights”. Additionally, Sakai demanded the withdrawal of all KMT aligned units, Blue Shirt Society members, the Political Training Corps of the Peiping Branch Military Council and the 3rd Regiment Military Police from North China. He also wanted Yu Xuecheng dismissed as chairman of Hubei. The next day in a move to intimidate Yu Xuecheng, the Tientsin Army deployed armored vehicles, artillery and machine guns directly in front of his official residence. It seemed now the Japanese sought to incorporate all of Hubei into the new demilitarized region. To make this happen, Sakai had independently put forward these demands, but they were recognized as an ultimatum from Japan, one for which for now had no deadline.  Chiang Kai-Shek, Wang Jingwei, Huang Fu and He Yingqin conferred over the situation and chose to informally talk with the Japanese while they kept the press quiet on the matter. The Chinese took their time, so to pressure them further, the Kwantung Army deployed a infantry battalion and one cavalry brigade at Shanhaiguan, while the Kawaguchi detachment concentrated around Gubeikou and two air force squadrons were brought over to Jinzhou. The Tientsin Army readied two battalions at Tientsin and Tangshan, both prepared to advance to Peiping at a moments notice. After sending numerous orders not to escalate things, Tokyo HQ sent Colonel Kita Seiichi, the chief of its China desk to demand the Kwantung Army not use anymore force. Meanwhile the Imperial Japanese Navy, under the fear of Anglo-American intervention avoided escalating the situation, but kept the 3rd fleet on full alert.  Under immense pressure the Chinese buckled. At 6pm on June 10th, He Yingqin orally advised Major Takahashi that Nanjing would issue a directive ordered the immediate withdrawal of local KMT organs from Hubei; that the 51st NRA Army would depart by rail from Hubei between June 11th and 25th; that the end and 25th NRA divisions of the Central Army would also depart Hubei and that the KMT would issue a directive prohibiting anti-japanese activities throughout China. It was an incredibly embarrassing act and became known as the He-Umezu agreement. Under its provisions the Japanese had expelled the Central Army from North China, Yu Xuecheng's forces, all anti-Japanese organizations of any sort and all anti-Japanese officials were removed. The Japanese had heavily capitalized on the assassinations in Tientsin, however other incidents enabled our good friend Doihara to cause further mayhem.  Following the Tanggu truce, Song Queyuan's 29th Army, consisting of the 37th, 38th and 132nd divisions had been deployed throughout Chahar with his headquarters based at Kalgan. His troops understandably displayed a lot of anti-japanese attitude and behaviors. Like a broken record, it was only a matter of time until an incident organically presented itself. One of the first ones broke out in Changpei. According to the Japanese, so get your grains of salt ready, a group of 8 led by staff officer Kawaguchi Kiyotake of the Tientsin garrison and Ikeda Katsumi of the consulate at Kalga and planned an excursion to Inner Mongolia late October 1934. After completing all the necessary paperwork and procedures, such as securing visas and giving advance notice to the Chinese officials in the areas they would voyage, the Japanese departed Kalgan for Tolun on October 27th. Upon entering Changpei's south gate they were suddenly stopped by troops under Song Queyuans 132nd division alongside some Peace Preservation Corps men. Their commanding officer punched Ikeda as the rest of the party were threatened with Dao swords and rifles. After 40 minutes a Chinese security officer showed up to allow them all to pass through the South Gate.  The Japanese foreign Ministry and Army were obviously outraged by this incident. The vice Consul at Kalgan, Hashimoto Masayasu complained to the chief of staff of the 132nd division and Major Takahasi at Peiping lodged an official complaint with Song Queyuan. On November 25th, Song Queyuan ordered the general commanding the 132nd division, Chao Tengyu, to apologize and dismissed the officer who punched Ikeda. Song Queyuan then guaranteed safe travel for all Japanese throughout Chahar, without any inspection of their possession and he promised to withdraw his troops west of the Great Wall. All of this because a guy was punched, you can really get the sense the Chinese were walking on eggshells. In late 1934, a large contingent of Song Queyuan's cavalry had deployed to the area around Fengning in Rehe. They were defending strategic positions and establishing large peace preservation corps. The Kwantung Army repeatedly demanded they withdraw from the area and the Chinese had made promises as to such by December 31st. Rather than comply, the Chinese launched an offensive and captured 40 Manchukuo militiamen. Song Queyuan rewarded his men with a bounty of 300 silver yuan and ordered the arms of the enemy by handed to the district government of Kuyuan.  On January 17th, the Kwantung Army moved the Nagami detachment of the IJA 8th Division from Chengde to launch a punitive expedition against Song Queyuan's forces in the Kuyuan area. On the 20th the Peiping Branch Military Council informed the Kwantung Army Song Queyuan was already withdrawing his men. Thus the Nagami detachment who had advanced as far as Tat'an turned around for the Great Wall on the 22nd, when they were suddenly attacked by Song Queyuan's troops near Hungnit'an. The Kwantung Army were outraged by what they were calling the first incident in western Rehe. The so-called incident would be resolved on February 2nd nar Ta'an when Zhang Yueting acting on behalf of the NRA 37th division and Major General Tani Hisao on behalf of the IJA 7th division agreed to the following terms: “1) In the future China will strictly prohibit actions that antagonize the Japanese army and will neither move troops into Manchukuo nor adopt a threatening attitude toward Manchukuo. The Chinese will completely suspend their current spying activities, such as scouting the movements of the Kwantung Army.  2) If China violates the above pledges in the future, the Japanese  army will act independently and firmly, but the responsibility will be borne by the Chinese . If the Chinese forces increase their military strength or contemplate strengthening their fortifications, the Japanese army will regard these moves as hostile acts.  3) China is to have the government of Kuyuan district return all arms confiscated (from the Manchukuo militia and turn them over to the Japanese army at Nanweitzu by February 7.  4) The outcome of this conference will be jointly announced on February 4. In particular, the Chinese should be careful that in making their announcement they do not distort the contents of the agreement or engage in counterpropaganda”. Can you imagine there was a second incident at Changpei? 4 members of the Japanese Special Services Agency based out of Abga, some 40 miles northwest of Tolun had come to the same southgate around 4pm on June 5th, traveling to Kalgan. There they were detained by units of the 132nd division who refused to recognize their identification papers. They were apparently held without proper bedding or food, threatened with Dao swords and bayonets. The Japanese claimed it was all done under orders from Song Queyuan's chief of staff and that their officials were interrogated by the chief of military police at Changpei. On June 11th, Lt Colonel Matsui Gennosuke, the head of the Japanese Special Service Agency at Kalgan, demanded an apology from Song Queyuan and for the men responsible to be punished and for further guarantees for safe travel. Matsui also insinuated that unless Song Queyuan severed ties to Nanjing and became Pro-Japanese he might suffer the same fate that had befallen Yu Xuecheng. Clearly the Kwantung Army was looking to remove Song Queyuan's army from Chahar province. There were two major reasons for such a thing, so they could better protect the northwestern flank of Manchukuo and to support Prince De who was attempting a campaign to make Inner Mongolia independent from China.  On June 11th the Kwantung Army directed the Mukden Special Service Agency chief of staff, our old buddy, Doihara, currently in Peiping, to confer with the army attache there and with the Tientsin garrison. They were to push for Song Queyuan's army to be withdrawn south of the Yellow River as rapidly as possible. Tokyo HQ always keeping a close eye on their troublesome Kwantung Officers dispatch this notice to Doihara "Although we desire the evacuation of Song Queyuan's army from Chahar province, we disagree that we should, at this time, demand its withdrawal south of the Yellow River. Rather, its transfer to the Peiping-Hankow Railway line would be advisable." On June 13th, the General Staff advised the Kwantung Army the same message. The General staff then ordered every detachment in North China to act discreetly "If we shun excessive publicity at this time, we should, in view of the present situation, be able to achieve practical results without publicity." Since they were already getting their way in Hubei, Tokyo HQ did not want to risk rocking the boat in Chahar concurrently.  Then came a second western Rehe incident, according to the Chengde Special Service Agency, "On June 11, when a party led by a senior official of Fengning hsien was about to enter the town of Tungchatzu [in Manchukuo, about eight kilometers north of Tushihk'ou], it was attacked by rifle fire from Sung Che-yuan's troops stationed at Tushihk'ou. The next day, June 12, a member of the border police force in Hsiaoch'ang [in Manchukuo, about fifteen kilometers north of Tushihk'ou] was also fired upon by the same troops of Sung in the vicinity of Hsiaoch'ang."  On June 17th, the Kwantung Army General Minami Jiro met with the Tientsin Army chief of staff Sakai and the Special Service Agency chief at Kalgan, Matsui for a full report on the incident. After reviewing it, Minami drafted a policy to guide the Kwantung Army:  “The withdrawal of Sung Che-yuan's army will worsen the confusion in the Peiping-Tientsin region. This incident should be handled separately from the North China problem and should be negotiated locally with Sung Che-yuan. Our demands will be limited to the following:  1) withdrawal of the troops invading Manchukuo, together with their advance unit at Tolun;  2) removal of the forces back to the Kalgan area;  3) an apology by Sung Che-yuan;  4) punishment of those directly responsible for the Changpei incident; and  5) prohibition of anti-Japanese actions in the future.” The Chinese realized they needed to reach a quick settlement with the Kwantung Army. On the 18th He Yingqin met with Consul General Suma over in Nanjing. Suma was presented with a set of harsh demands from the Kwantung Army and that same day reported to the Executive Yuan he had decided to relieve Song Queyuan of his posts as governor and commander of the 29th Army. He then appointed as acting governor and provincial commissioner of civil affairs, Qin Dechun, who would take the 132nd division implicated in the Changpei incident south. The message was relayed to the Japanese military attache in Nanjing, Lt Colonel Amamiya Tatsumi. The man who relayed the message was Vice Foreign Minister Tang Yujen who also stated this "In view of the fact that China has moved voluntarily to dismiss Sung Che-yuan, to transfer his army, and to punish those responsible, we request that we not be confronted with an ultimatum in the form of various demands from the Kwantung Army with a deadline for reply." On June 19th, Nanjing officially implemented the promises made by He Yingqin and Tang Yujen and in turn the Kwantung Army wired Doihara in Peiping to stand down and wait to see if the Chinese did what they said they would. Doihara was probably disappointed he could not perform his 100th false flag operation he must have been cooking up. For any of you who watch my Youtube content, I used clips from the Chinese WW2 Drama series “Young Marshal” that depicts Doihara hilariously. You can check it out in my long format documentary on the Japanese invasion of Manchuria, its meme gold Doihara's clips, freaking out and smashing phones and such.  At 10 pm on June 23rd, Doihara, alongside Matsui and Takahasi visited Qin Dechen at his residence to negotiate a final understanding. There Doihara demanded China implement several measures to promote better relations with Japan such as withdrawing Song Queyuan's army southwest; give an apology for the Changpei incident; punish all those responsible; dissolve all the anti-japanese organizations in the region; ban Chinese immigration into Inner Mongolia; cease any oppressive actions against Mongolians and cooperate and encourage trade between Manchukuo, Inner Mongolia, North China; and appoint more Japanese military and political advisers. Just a laundry list he had worked up. So Qin Dechen apologized for the Changpei incident, stated they were already withdrawing Song Queyuan's men and dissolving all the anti-japanese organizations. Now he was orally agreeing to all of this, but he refused to put it in writing, prior to receiving the greenlight from Nanjing. Doihara understood and gave him time to talk to his government. The next day however another incident occurred, this time near Tuxukou. There a contingent of Song Queyuan's withdrawing troops fired upon Manchukuo police forces and in response the Tolun Special Service Agency dispatched a Mongolian unit led by Li Shuxin. It was not really much of an incident, just a minor confrontation all things given, so the Kwantung Army told Doihara to deal with Qin Dechen in private about it.On June 27th, Qin Dechen sent a formal reply to Doihara's demands in what became known as the Qin-Doihara agreement. It conformed with all the demands, seeing Song Queyuan's troops depart southwest while the security of Chahar was entrusted to two peace preservation units. One unit was responsible for the Chinese population, the other over the Mongolian. On August 28th, Song Queyuan was appointed garrison commander over the Peiping-Tientsin region with his 29th division joining Chao Tengyu's 132nd division and Liu Juming's 2nd division. Thus after the He-Umezu and Qin-Doihara agreements the Japanese had now expanded their influence into both Hubei and Chahar. 1935 saw a wave of incidents break out in the demilitarized region, prompting the Japanese to go into numerous negotiations with the Chinese to clamp down on anything they didn't like. Then on October 4th, Japan unleashed a document titled  “Concerning Policy towards China”: “The goal of our foreign policy is the development of East Asia and the maintenance of the security of East Asia through the cooperative concert of Japan, Manchukuo, and China, with Japan as the nucleus; this is likewise the objective of our policy toward China. To realize this objective on the basis of the outline below, the central and regional authorities of China must, by fair and just means, adjust their relations with Japan and Manchukuo so as to bring about an environment favorable to the establishment of basic relations between Japan, Manchukuo, and China.  1) China should adopt a good neighbor policy toward Japan, thoroughly suppress anti-Japanese activities, and abandon its policy of reliance on Europe and the United States. It should put this policy into practice and as a matter of course cooperate with Imperial Japan on practical problems.  2) Although China must eventually extend formal recognition to Manchukuo, until then it must recognize de facto the independence of Manchukuo and abandon its anti-Manchukuo policy. At least in North China, which borders on Manchukuo, the Chinese should promote economic and cultural cooperation with Manchukuo.  3) In view of the Communist threat emanating from Outer Mongolia and posing a common menace to Japan, Manchukuo, and China, China should cooperate in measures aimed at eliminating this menace from the region bordering Outer Mongolia.  4) When the above points have been put into effect and we recognize the good faith of China concerning friendly cooperation with Japan and Manchukuo, we shall first conclude comprehensive agreements on friendly cooperative relations between China and Japan, and thereafter draw up the agreement needed for regulating new relations between Japan, Manchukuo, and China” To this Chiang Kai-Shek replied could not recognize Manchukuo but that his government would do whatever it could peacefully to maintain economic activity between the people north and south of the Great Wall. He also stated no other country on earth was more concerned with the Communist menace in Mongolia than China. All of the appeasement efforts had brought Wang Jingwei to his boiling point and on August 8th he departed for Shanghai as he and his entire cabinet resigned. Chiang Kai-Shek personally came over and asked Wang Jingwei to withdraw his resignation given he offered him further support, and Wang Jingwei relented. Then on the morning of November 1st, after attending a meeting, Wang Jingwei was shot by a Chinese reporter for the Chenkuang Press, a company notably associated with Chiang Kai-Shek. Rumors spread the assassination attempt was inspired by anti-japanese elements such as Generals Yang Qi and Tang Shengzhi. With Wang Jingwei in the hospital, Chiang Kai-Shek was forced to take a larger role with the North China situation. Then Wang Jingwei departed for Europe seeking better medical care and wired his resignation on November 29th. Thus Chiang Kai-Shek succeeded him as president of the Executive Yuan and the coalition between him and Wang Jingwei had officially ended. With Chiang Kai-Shek now the only funnel from which action could be directed, the Japanese sent Ambassador Ariyoshi to China to persuade Chiang Kai-Shek to grant some form of autonomy for North China. By this point autonomy for North China had become part of Japan's national policy. Chiang Kai-Shek in response to this growing threat went to Taiyuan, the capital of Shanxi, to meet with Yan Xishan. There he proposed that if Yan Xishan could unite the Northern Warlords, Chiang Kai-Shek would appoint him chairman of the political affairs council, with added authority over finances and diplomacy. Chiang Kai-Shek urged him to come attend the 6th plenum of the Kuomintang Central Executive Committee scheduled for November 1st. At this time Yan Xishan's Shanxi was struggling financially so he reconciled with Chiang Kai-Shek. To this effect Chiang Kai-Shek sent his vice chief of the Army General Staff Xing Pin to tour the north trying to persuade those like Song Queyuan and Han Fuju to not support the North China autonomy movement. The Japanese interpreted these efforts to thwart the autonomy movement as the underlying cause of all the anti-japanese incidents breaking out continuously. To this the Nanjing government disclaimed no responsibility and insisted they were doing everything the Japanese asked of them.  The Japanese began a massive campaign aimed at all the important leaders in North China. One man they managed to gain influence over was Yin Jukeng who on November 25th at Tungzhou, announced the inauguration of the East Hubei Anti-Communist Autonomous Council, claiming autonomy for the entire demilitarized region. Yin Jukeng's council consisted of 9 members whereupon he was chairman and took charge of foreign relations and military affairs. As you can imagine Nanjing immediately labeled him a traitor and ordered his arrest. Chiang Kai-Shek then rapidly sent word to the Japanese an official response to their “Concerning Policy towards China” document:  “To satisfy the various demands from the Japanese side, there should first of all be established in Hopei province an autonomous political administration; ultimately, this administration should be similar to that governing the southwestern region. Whether or not this administration should be extended to other regions will be determined after the results in Hopei have been ascertained.  1) Although the campaign to wipe out the Communists is progressing, the Communist bandits have fled toward Kansu. Since this raises the danger that the Communists may spread into Inner Mongolia, the defense against the Communists in North China should be conducted jointly.  2) Certain aspects of the new monetary system are not suited to North China, and appropriate modifications will be made in this respect.  3) Efforts are to be made to harmonize economic interchange among the people on both sides of the Great Wall.  4) To meet the special needs of the region, the local administration should be given authority to enable it to exercise suitable control over financial matters in North China.  5) Pending issues are to be settled locally in a rational manner.  6) The aim will be to employ talented people to carry out the above tasks and to establish an ideal government.” Chiang Kai-Shek dispatched He Yingqin to reign in the situation at Peiping, but upon his arrival he believed the situation was beyond his control. He Yingqin reported that it was his belief the only way for Nanjing to retain some degree of authority in the region was to create a new political organ to do so. Thus on December 11th, the Nationalist government established the Hubei-Chahar Political Council chaired by Song Queyuan. Song Queyuan declared the new council would assume all responsibility for administering Hubei and Chahar and promised  "to respect the wishes of the people, endeavor in particular to relieve the economic distress of the region, and maintain the peace of East Asia on the basis of Sino-Japanese amity."  Thus within all this madness now two autonomous regimes co-existed in North China. The East Hubei Anti-Communist Autonomous Council would administer 22 prefectures while the Hubei-Chahar Political Council would administer Hubei, Chahar, Peiping and Tientsin. As you might imagine, relations between these two councils was complex and ambiguous. The 22 prefectures the former administered were under the jurisdiction of the other. One was a Japanese puppet, the other was controlled by Nanjing who refused to recognize the other. Japan immediately exploited their newfound chaotic gains in North China. In May of 1936 the 2000 troops of the Tientsin garrison army was boosted to 5600 led by General Tashiro Kan'ichiro. This was done under the guise it was to defend against communists and protect Japanese citizens. The position of the commander of the Tientsin garrison was officially promoted to encompass full responsibility for the situation in North China, exactly the same as the Kwantung Army's role over Manchukuo. Thuse both the Kwantung Army and what was henceforth called the China Garrison had clearly defined roles. One would be responsible for Manchukuo, the other over North China. Japan had neutralized Rehe, Chahar and Hubei, all of whom would fall directly under their influence. But was Japan satisfied?  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. Its not always through military means that nations can encroach upon other nations. Japan was showcasing how it could bully away parts of China through threats alone it was working miracles. How long could Chiang Kai-Shek carry on like this? Would it be Japan or his own people that would hang him for losing China?

Following the death of Takara Hime, and the war on the Korean peninsula, Naka no Ōe was taking hold--or perhaps keeping hold--of the reins of government.  He wasn't finished with his changes to the government.  He also had a new threat--the Tang Empire.  They had destroyed Yamato's ally, Baekje, and defeated the Yamato forces on the peninsula.  While the Tang then turned their attention to Goguryeo, Yamato could easily be next.  The Tang had a foothold on the Korean peninsula, so they had a place to gather and launch a fleet, should they wish to bring Yamato into their empire. For more, especially to follow along with some of the names in this episode, check out our blogpost at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-125     Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 125: The Sovereign of Heavenly Wisdom The people of Baekje looked around at the strange and unfamiliar land.  They had fled a wartorn country, and they were happy to be alive, but refugee status was hardly a walk in the park.  Fortunately, they still knew how to farm the land, even if their homeland was hundreds of miles away, across the sea, and occupied by hostile forces.  Here, at least, was a land where they could make a home for themselves. Some of them had to wonder whether this was really permanent.  Was their situation just temporary until their kingdom was restored?  Or were they truly the last people of Baekje, and what would that mean? Either way, it would mean nothing if they didn't work the land and provide for their families.  And so, as with displaced people everywhere, they made the best of the situation.  They had been given land to work, and that was more than they could have asked for.  They might never return to Baekje, but perhaps they could keep a little of it alive for themselves and their descendants. Greetings, everyone, and welcome back.  Last episode we talked about the downfall of Baekje and the defeat of the Yamato forces at the battle of Hakusukinoe, also known as the Battle of Baekgang, in 663.  And yet, something else happened as well: the sovereign, Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou, died as the Yamato forces were setting out.  Immediately Prince Naka no Oe took the reins of government.  He would be known to later generations as Tenji Tennou, with Tenji meaning something like “Heavenly Wisdom”. Now Prince Naka no Oe has been in the forefront of many of our episodes so far, so I'd like to start this episode out with a recap of what we've heard about him so far, as all of this is important to remind ourselves of the complex political situation.  I'm going to be dropping – and recapping – a lot of names, but I'll have many of the key individuals listed on the podcast website for folks who want to follow along.  I would note that this episode is going to be a summary, with some extrapolation by me regarding what was actually happening.  Just remember that history, as we've seen time and again, is often more messy and chaotic than we like, and people are more complex than just being purely good or evil.  People rarely make their way to the top of any social hierarchy purely through their good deeds.  To start with, let's go back to before the year 645, when Naka no Oe instigated a coup against Soga no Iruka and Soga no Emishi.  In the Isshi Incident, covered in Episode 106, Naka no Oe had Soga no Iruka murdered in court, in front of his mother, Takara Hime, when she sat on the throne the first time.  And yet, though he could have taken the throne when she abdicated in apparent shock, he didn't.  Instead, he took the role of “Crown Prince”, but this wasn't him just sitting back.  In fact, evidence suggests that he used that position to keep a strong hand on the tiller of the ship of state. Prior to the Isshi Incident of 645, the rule of the Yamato sovereign had been eroded by noble court families.  These families, originally set up to serve the court and its administration, had come to dominate the political structures of the court.  The main branch of the Soga family, in particular, had found its way to power through a series of astute political marriages and the support of a new, foreign religion:  Buddhism.  Soga no Iname, Emishi's grandfather, had married his daughters to the sovereigns, and thus created closer ties between the Soga and the royal line.  He also helped ensure that the offspring of those marriages would be the ones to take over as future sovereigns.  Soga no Iname, himself took the position of Oho-omi, the Great Omi, or the Great Minister, the head of the other ministerial families.  As Prime Minister, he held great sway over the day-to-day running of the court, and execution of much of the administration.  Much of this was covered in previous episodes, but especially episodes 88, 90, 91, 92, 95, 98, 99, and 103. Soga no Umako, who succeeded his father as Oho-omi, was joined in his effort to administer the government by his grand-nephew, Prince Umayado, also known as Shotoku Taishi, son of Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou, and thus grandson of Umako's sister, Kitashi-hime, and the sovereign known as Kimmei Tennou.  Umayado's aunt, sister to Tachibana no Toyohi, was Kashikiya Hime, or Suiko Tennou.  The three of them:  Soga no Umako, Prince Umayado, and Kashikiya Hime, together oversaw the development of Yamato and the spread of Buddhism.  Buddhism was also controversial at first, but they turned it into another source of ritual power for the state—ritual power that Soga no Umako, Prince Umayado, and even Kashikiya Hime were able to harvest for their own use. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince, Umayado, died before Kashikiya hime, suddenly leaving open the question of who would take the throne.  Soga no Umako himself, passed away two years before Kashikiya Hime.  When she in turn passed away, there was another struggle for the throne, this time between the descendants of Crown Prince Umayado and Soga no Umako.  Eventually, Soga no Umako's son and heir, Soga no Emishi, made sure that a more pliant sovereign, Prince Tamura, would take the throne, and Prince Umayado's own son, Prince Yamashiro no Oe, was cut out of the succession.  Soga no Emishi, serving as prime minister, effectively ran things much as his father had.  When Tamura diedhis queen, Takara Hime, took the throne, rather than passing it back to Umayado's line—no doubt with Emishi's blessing.  He was careful, however, not to provoke direct action against Yamashiro no Oe, possibly due to the reverence in which Yamashiro's father, Prince Umayado, aka the Buddhist Saint Shotoku Taishi, was held.  Meanwhile, Emishi appears to have been cultivating his grandson by way of Prince Tamura, Furubito no Oe, to eventually succeed to the throne, trying to duplicate what his own father Umako and even grandfather had been able to accomplish. Soga no Emishi's son, Soga no Iruka, was not quite so temperate, however.   Who would have thought that growing up at the top of the social hierarchy might make one feel a bit arrogant and entitled?   When Soga no Emishi was ill, Soga no Iruka took over as Prime Minister, and he didn't just stand back.  He decided that he needed to take out Furubito no Oe's competition, and so he went after Yamashiro no Oe and had him killed. Unfortunately for him, he apparently went too far.  There were already those who were not happy with the Soga family's close hold on power—or perhaps more appropriately, this particular line of the Soga family.  This kind of behavior allowed a group of discontented royals and nobility to gain support. According to the popular story recounted in the Nihon Shoki, the primary seed of resistance started with a game of kickball, or kemari.  Nakatomi no Kamako, aka Nakatomi no Kamatari, was the scion of his house, which was dedicated to the worship of the traditional kami of Yamato.  The Nakatomi were ritualists: in charge of chanting ritual prayers, or norito, during court ceremony.  This meant that their powerbase was directly challenged by the increasing role of Buddhism, one of the Soga patriarchs' key influences on the political system. Kamatari was feeling out the politics of the court, and seemed to be seeking the support of royal family members who could help challenge the powerful Soga ministers.  He found that support in two places.  First, in Prince Karu, brother to Takara Hime, the current sovereign, who had been on the throne ever since her husband, Tamura, had passed away.  And then there was the Prince Katsuraki, better known to us, today, as Prince Naka no Oe.  A game of kemari, where a group of players tried to keep a ball in the air as long as they could, using only their feet, was a chance to get close to the Prince.  When Naka no Oe's shoe flew off in the middle of the match, Kamatari ran over to retrieve it.  As he offered the shoe back to its owner, they got to talking, and one of the most impactful bromances in Yamato history was born. The two ended up studying together.  The unification of the Yellow River and Yangzi basin regions under the Sui and Tang, and the expansion of the Silk Road, had repercussions felt all the way across the straits in Yamato.  Naka no Oe and Kamatari were both avid students and were absorbing all that the continent had to throw at them about philosophy and good governance.  As is so often the case, it seems like idealistic students were the fertile ground for revolutionary new thoughts. There were problems implementing their vision, however.  Although the Nihon Shoki claims that Naka no Oe was the Crown Prince, that honor was probably given to Prince Furubito no Oe, who would have no doubt perpetuated the existing power structures at court.  This is something that the Chroniclers, or perhaps those before them, glossed over and may have even tried to retconned, to help bolster the case that Naka no Oe was actually working for the common good and not just involved in a naked power grab for himself.  There is also the question as to where Yamashiro no Oe had stood in the succession, as he likely had a fair number of supporters. With the destruction of Yamashiro no Oe's family, however, the balance of power shifted.  Although Soga no Emishi had long been an influential member of the court, and not solely because of his role as Prime Minister, Soga no Iruka was relatively new to power.  Yamashiro no Oe's family, in turn, likely had a fair number of supporters, and even neutral parties may have been turned off by Iruka's violent methods to suppress an opponent who had already been defeated politically.  Naka no Oe and Kamatari seem to have seized on this discontent againt the Soga, but they needed at least one other conspirator.  They achieved this by offering a marriage alliance with Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, a lesser member of the Soga household, whose own immediate family had been supporters of Yamashiro no Oe, and so likely had plenty of grievances with his cousins.  Naka no Oe married Ishikawa no Maro's daughter, Wochi no Iratsume, also known as Chinu no Iratsume.  Together, these three—Naka no Oe, Kamatari, and Ishikawa no Maro—brought others into their plot, and finally, in 645, they struck.  Soga no Iruka was killed at court, in front of a shocked Takara Hime and Prince Furubito no Oe.  By the way, this is another thing that suggests to me that Furubito no Oe was the Crown Prince, because why was he front and center at the ceremony, while Naka no Oe was able to skulk around at the edges, tending to things like the guards?  After the assassination at the court – the Isshi Incident -- Naka no Oe gathered forces and went after Soga no Emishi, since they knew they couldn't leave him alive.  With both Soga no Emishi and Soga no Iruka dead, and Takara Hime having abdicated the throne in shock at what had just occurred, Naka no Oe could have taken the throne for himself.  However, in what was probably a rather astute move on his part, he chose not to.  He recognized that Furubito no Oe's claim to the throne was possibly stronger, and those who had supported the Soga would not doubt push for him to take the throne.  And so, instead, he pushed for his uncle, Prince Karu, to ascend as sovereign.  Karu was Takara Hime's brother, and they could use Confucian logic regarding deference to one's elders to support him.  Plus, Karu's hands weren't directly bloodied by the recent conflict. As for Prince Furubito, he saw the way that the winds were blowing.  To avoid being another casualty, he retired from the world, taking the vows of a Buddhist monk.  However, there were still supporters who were trying to put him on the throne and eventually he would be killed, to avoid being used as a rallying point. Prince Karu, known as Jomei Tennou, ruled for around a decade. During that time, Naka no Oe and his reformers helped to cultivate a new image of the state as a bureaucratic monarchy.  Naka no Oe was designated the Crown Prince, and Nakatomi no Kamatari was made the “Inner Prime Minister”, or Naidaijin.  Ishikawa no Maro was made the minister of the  Right, while Abe no Uchimaro was made Minister of the Left, and they ran much of the bureaucracy, but the Naidaijin was a role more directly attached to the royal household, and likely meant that Kamatari was outside of their jurisdiction, falling into a position directly supporting Naka no Oe.  They instituted Tang style rank systems, and set up divisions of the entire archipelago.  They appointed governors of the various countries, now seen as provinces, and made them report up to various ministers, and eventually the sovereign.  After all, if you were going to manage everything, you needed to first and foremost collect the data.  This period is known as the Taika, or Great Change, period, and the reforms are known as the Taika reforms, discussed in episode 108. They even built a large government complex in the form of the Toyosaki Palace, in Naniwa, though this may have been a bit much—for more, check out episodes 112 and 113. Years into the project, though, things seem to have soured, a bit.  Rumors and slander turned Kamatari against his ally, Ishikawa no Maro, resulting in the death of Ishikawa no Maro and much of his family.  Naka no Oe and other members of the royal family eventually abandoned the Naniwa palace complex, leaving now-Emperor Karu and the government officials there to run the day-to-day administration, while much of the court made its way back to the Asuka area.  Karu would later pass away, but the throne still did not pass to Crown Prince Naka no Oe, despite his title.  Instead, the throne went back to Takara Hime.  This was her second reign, and one of only two split reigns like this that we know of.  The Chroniclers, who were creating posthumous titles for the sovereigns, gave her two names—Kogyoku Tennou for her reign up to 645, and then Saimei Tennou for her second reign starting in 655.   During her latter reign, Naka no Oe continued to wield power as the Crown Prince, and the Chroniclers don't really get into why she came back into power.  It may be that Naka no Oe, in his role as Crown Prince, had more freedom: although the sovereign is purportedly the person in power, that position can also be limiting.  There are specific things which the sovereign is supposed to do, rituals in which they are expected to partake.  In addition, there were restrictions on who was allowed into the inner sanctum of the palace, and thus limits on who could interact with the sovereign, and how.  That meant that any sovereign was reliant on intermediaries to know what was going on in their state and to carry out their orders.  As Crown Prince, Naka no Oe may have had more flexibility to do the things he wanted to do, and he could always leverage the sovereign's authority. When Baekje was destroyed, and Yamato decided to go to their aid, Naka no Oe appears to have had a strong hand in raising forces and directing movements, at least within the archipelago.  When Takara Hime passed away rather suddenly, he accompanied her funerary procession much of the way back, and then returned to Tsukushi—Kyushu—to direct the war.   This is the same thing that Toyotomi Hideyoshi would do when he sent troops to Korea in the late 16th century.  Moving headquarters closer to the continent would reduce the time between messages.  Theoretically he could have moved out to the islands of Iki or Tsushima, but I suspect that there were more amenities at Tsukushi, where they even built a palace for Takara Hime—and later Naka no Oe—to reside in.  It was likely not quite as spectacular as the full-blown city that Hideyoshi developed in a matter of months, but the court could also leverage the facilities previously created for the Dazaifu. The war took time.  This wasn't like some “wars” that were more like specific military actions.  This was a war that dragged on for several years, with different waves of ships going over to transport people and supplies.  Things came to a head in the 9th month of 663, roughly October or November on the Western calendar.  The Baekje resistance was under siege, and their only hope was a fleet of Yamato soldiers coming to their aid.  The Yamato fleet met with a much smaller Tang fleet at the mouth of the Baek River—the Hakusukinoe.  They attempted to break through the Tang blockade, but the Tang had positional advantage and were eventually able to counterattack, destroying the Yamato fleet.  Without their relief, the Baekje resistance fell. The remnants of the Yamato army, along with those Baekje nobles that were with them, headed out, fleeing back to the archipelago.  One presumes that there may have been other Baekje nobles, and their families, who had already made the trip. After the entry describing this rout, on the 24th day of the 9th month of 663, we have a gap in the Chronicles of just a little more than 4 months.  We then pick up with Naka no Oe's government starting to look at internal affairs.  For one thing, we are told that he selected his younger brother, the Royal Prince Ohoama, as Crown Prince, and he made updates to the cap-rank system, changing it from 19 ranks to 26 ranks.  The first six ranks remained the same, but the name “kwa”, or “flower”, for the 7th through 10th ranks was changed to “Kin”, meaning “brocade”.  Furthermore, a “middle” rank was added between the Upper and Lower ranks, further distinguishing each group, and adding 6 extra ranks.  Finally, the initial rank, Risshin, was divided into two:  Daiken and Shouken.  We aren't told why, but it likely meant that they could have more granular distinctions in rank. At the same time that was going on, the court also awarded long swords to the senior members of the great families, and short swords to the senior members of lesser families.  Below that, senior members of the Tomo no Miyatsuko and others were given shields and bows and arrows.  Furthermore, the vassals, or kakibe, and the domestic retainers, or yakabe, were settled, to use Aston's translation.  The kanji used in the text appears to refer to settling a decision or standardizing something, rather than settling as in giving a place to live.  It seems to me to mean that the court was settling servants on families: determining what kind and how many servants that various houses could have based on their position in the hierarchy.  I can't help but notice that all of these gifts were very martial in nature.  That does not mean, of course, that they were necessarily because of the war over Baekje, nor that they were in response to the concern about a possible Tang invasion -- we've seen in the past where swords were gifted to people who had served the court --but it is hard not to connect these gifts with recent worries.  We also know that this year, Naka no Oe turned his focus on building defenses, setting up guards and beacon fires on the islands of Tsushima and Iki.   Should any unknown fleet be seen coming to the archipelago, the fires would alert the forces at Kyushu, so they could send word and prepare a defense. In addition, the court built an impressive defense for Tsukushi—for the Dazai itself, the seat of the Yamato government in Kyushu.  It is called the Mizuki, or Water Castle, though at the time “castle” was more about walls and fortifications than the standalone fortress we tend to think of, today.  Along those lines, the Mizuki was an earthen embankment, roughly 1.2 kilometers long, extending from a natural ridgeline to the west across the Mikasa river.  Archeological evidence shows it had a moat, and this line of fortifications would have been a line of defense for the Dazai, should anyone try to invade.  This construction was so large and impressive that you can still see it, even today.  It stands out on the terrain, and it is even visible from overhead photographs. In the third month of 664, we are told that Prince Syeongwang of Baekje and his people, were given a residence at Naniwa.  In fact, even though Baekje was no longer an independent kingdom, there appear to have been thousands of Baekje people now living in Yamato, unable to return home.  Many of these were former nobles of the Baekje court, which Yamato treated as a foreign extension of its own.  Resettling these people would be a major theme for the Chronicles, but we will also see, as we read further on, how their talents were leveraged for the state. Also in the third month, a star fell in the north—it says “in the north of the capital”, but I suspect that anywhere north, south, east, or west of the capital would have seen the same thing “in the north”.  There was also an earthquake, which isn't given any particular significance, beyond its mention as a natural phenomenon. On the 17th day of the 5th month of 664, so roughly 2 months later, we are told that Liu Jen'yuan, the Tang dynasty's general in Baekje, sent Guo Wucong  to Yamato with a letter and gifts.  We aren't told the contents of the letter, but one imagines that this may have been a rather tense exchange.  Yamato had just been involved in open warfare against Tang forces on the peninsula, and they still weren't sure if the Tang empire would come after them next.  Their only real hope on that front was Goguryeo, since the Tang and Silla were still trying to destroy the Goguryeo kingdom, and that may have kept the Tang forces tied up for a while.  No doubt Guo Wucong would have seen some of the defenses that Yamato was constructing during his visit. Guo Wucong would hang around for about seven and a half months.  He was given permission to take his leave on the 4th day of the 10th month.  Naka no Oe had his friend and Inner Prime Minister, Nakatomi no Kamatari send the Buddhist Priest, Chisho, with presents for Guo Wucong, and he and his officers were granted entertainments  before they left as well. Finally, Guo Wucong and his people returned to the Tang on the 12th day of the 12th month. While the delegation from the Tang was in Yamato, we are told of several tragedies.  First was that Soga no Murajiko no Oho-omi had passed away.  Soga no Murajiko appears to have been another son of Soga no Kuramaro, and thus brother to Soga no Ishikawa no Maro.  Unfortunately, we don't have much more on him in the record. Just a month later, we are told that the “Dowager Queen” Shima passed away.  Aston translates this as the Queen Grandmother, suggesting that she was Naka no Oe's grandmother. We are also told, that in the 10th month of 664, around the time that Guo Wucong was given leave to depart, that Yeon Gaesomun, the Prime Minister—though perhaps more correctly the despotic ruler—of Goguryeo, died.  It is said that he asked his children to remain united, but, well, even if we didn't know how it all turned out, I think we would look somewhat skeptically on any idea that they all did exactly as they were told.  Sure enough, in 667 we are told that Gaesomun's eldest son, Namseng, left the capital city of Pyongyang to tour the provinces, and while he was gone his younger brothers conspired with the nobility, and when he came back they refused to let him back in.  So Namseng ran off to the Tang court and apparently helped them destroy his own country. This is largely corroborated by other stories about Goguryeo, though the dates do seem to be off.  Tang records put Gaesomun's death around 666 CE, which the Samguk Sagi appears to follow, but on his tomb the date would appear to be 665.  Confusion like this was easy enough given the different dates and trying to cross-check across different regnal eras.  Sure, there were some commonalities, but it was very easy to miscount something. One last note from the twelfth month of 664—it seems that there were omens of apparent prosperity that came to the court from the island of Awaji.    First, there was rice that grew up in a farmer's pig trough.  The farmer's name is given as Shinuta no Fumibito no Mu, and Mu gathered this rice and stored it up, and thus, every day his wealth increased.  Then there was the bridal bed of Iwaki no Sukuri no Oho, of Kurimoto district.  They claimed that rice grew up at the head of his brides' mattress during her first night's stay with him.  And this wasn't just some brand new shoot, but overnight it formed an ear, and by the morning it bent down and ripened.  Then, the following night, another ear was formed.  When the bride went out into the courtyard, two keys fell down from heaven, and after she gave them to her husband, Oho, he went on to become a wealthy man. The exact purpose of these stories is unclear, but it seems to be that the Chroniclers are choosing to focus on stories of wealth and growth, which speak to how they wanted this reign as a whole, including the sovereign, to be remembered. However, more tragedy struck the following year, in 665,  when Hashibito, another Dowager Queen – this time the wife of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou - passed away on the 25th day of the 2nd month.  On the first day of the 3rd month, 330 people took Buddhist vows for her sake. We are also told that in the second month the ranks of Baekje were cross-referenced with the ranks of Yamato, and then ranks were given out to some of the Baekje nobles that had come over to Yamato.  Kwisil Chipsa, who was originally ranked “Dalsol” in Baekje, was accorded “Lower Shoukin”.  That was rank 12 of the 26.  In comparison, “Dalsol” seems to have been the 2nd rank of 16 in Baekje.  Along with handing out rank, over 400 Baekje commoners, both men and women, were given residence in the Kanzaki district in Afumi.  This appears to be an area along the Aichi river, running from the Suzuka Mountains, west towards Lake Biwa. The court granted them rice-lands in the following month.  At the same time, several high ranking Baekje nobles were put in charge of building castles at strategic points around the archipelago.  These included one castle in Nagato, as well as the castles of Ohono and Woyogi, in Tsukushi.  Two years later, in 667, we also see the building of Takayasu castle, in Yamato and Yashima castle in Yamada, in Sanuki—modern Kagawa, on Shikoku, facing the Seto Inland Sea passageway.  Kaneda castle in Tsushima was also a Baekje-built one. We mentioned something about these castles last episode.  They were in the Baekje style, and as I said, the term “castle” here is more about the walls, which were largely made of rammed earth ramparts.  This means that you pile up earth and dirt in a layer and then the laborers use tools specifically to tamp it down until it is thick and hard.  Then another layer is piled on top and the process is repeated.  These walls were often placed on mountain tops, and they would follow the terrain, making them places that were easy to defend.  Beyond that, they didn't necessarily have a donjon keep or anything like that—maybe a tower so that one could see a little further, but being at the top of a mountain usually provided all the visual cues that one needed. We know there were other castles made as well.  For example, I mentioned last week about Kinojo, in Okayama, the ancient Kibi area.  Kinojo is not mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, but it clearly existed back then, and matches the general description of a 7th century mountain castle as built in Baekje.  The name means Demon Castle, and there is a story about it that is connected to the local Kibitsu Jinja—the Shrine to Prince Kibi.  According to legend, Kibitsu Hiko, aka Prince Kibitsu or, perhaps more appropriately, the Prince of Kibi, came to the area around the time of the Mimaki Iribiko, so probably about the 3rd century, at the head of a large force.  Kibitsu Hiko had come to defeat the demon, Ura, who lived in the nearby castle, hence Kinojo, and legend says that he freed the people from the demon's rule. As I also mentioned, last week, this particular castle may have ended up in the Momotaro story.  There are those who believe that the story of Momotarou is based on the story of Prince Kibitsu Hiko, and his defeat of the so-called demon, “Ura”.   Certainly the story has grown more fantastical, and less connected to the ancient history of the Kibi region, but it still may have its origin in a much more standard legend of a founding prince of the ancient Kibi kingdom that was later changed into a fairy tale.   More likely, the castle was built by a Baekje nobleman, often thought to be a prince, who settled in the area.  There is the possibility that the demon's name “Ura” came from a mistranslation of his name, or it is also possible that he was unrelated to the story at all.  The Kibitsu Hiko legend may have incorporated the castle, Kinojo, at a later date, once people had forgotten when and why the castle was actually built. It would make sense if Kinojo had been built as part of the defenses for Yamato, as that area overlooks a large part of the fertile plains of Okayama and out beyond Kojima to the Seto Inland Sea -- it is perched over a key overland route from the western edge of Honshu to Yamato, and there would have been several ways to signal boats to put to sea to intercept forces on the water.  . This all suggests to me that Kinojo was probably part of Naka no Oe's castle-building effort, even if it isn't specifically remembered in the Chronicle.  But building castles wasn't enough to bring peace of mind that Yamato would survive a Tang invasion, and it is possibly as a defensive measure that Naka no Oe would go on to do something truly incredible—he would eventually move the capital from Asuka and Naniwa all the way to the shores of Lake Biwa itself, establishing the Ohotsu palace.  This was a truly extreme step that didn't endear Naka no Oe to the court, but it had several advantages.  For one thing, this move pulled the capital further away from the sea routes, meaning that if they were attacked, they had a more defensible position.  Even more so than Yamato, the Afumi region around Lake Biwa is surrounded by mountains, with a few narrow passes that restricted movement in and out. One of these is the famous Sekigahara, which remained a choke point even up to modern times.  The name even means the Field of the Barrier, indicating the barrier and checkpoint that had been set up there in ancient times.  Moving the capital also pulled the court away from some of the previous political centers, which may have been another feature that made it attractive to Naka no Oe.  Many capital moves have been made, at least in part, to get farther away from strong Buddhist temples, and this certainly would have moved things out of the Asuka region, which by now was a hotbed of Buddhist temple activity. But we'll talk about that all more, next episode.  Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan

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This episode we will discuss various embassies to and from Yamato during the reign of Takara Hime, with a particular focus on the embassy of 659, which occured at a particularly eventful time and happened to be extremely well-recorded fro the period by Iki no Hakatoko, who was apparently on the mission to the Tang court itself. For more, check out our blog post at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-123 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 123: Embassy Interrupted.   Iki no Hakatoko sat in his room, gazing out at the city.   It was truly an amazing place, filled with all kinds of people from around the world.  And yet, still, after 9 months of confinement, the place felt small.  Sure, there he hadwere visits from ranking nobles and dignitaries, but even the most lenient of house arrests was still house arrest. But that didn't mean that he had nothing to do.  There were books and more that he had access to—many that had not yet made it to the archipelago, and some of which he no doubt hoped he could bring back with him.  And of course, there was paper, brush, and ink. And then there were the experiences he and others had acquired on this mission to the Great Tang.  From the very beginning the missionit washad been plagued with disaster when they lost half of their ships and company mission to rogue winds on the open seas.  Now they were trapped because the Emperor himself wouldn't let them return home.  They had experienced and seen so much, and that provided ample material for one to catalogue. As the seasons changed, and rumors arrived that perhaps his situation would also something would change soon, Iki no Hakatoko spread out the paper on the desk in front of him, dipped his brush in the ink, and began to write.  He wrote down notes about his experiences, and what had befallen him and the others.  He had no idea who It is unclear whom he thought might read it, and if he was intending this to be an official or personal record, but he wrote it down anyway. Hakatoko He couldn't have known then that his words would eventually be captured in a much larger work, chronicling the entire history of Yamato from its very creation, nor that his would be one of the oldest such personal accounts records to be handed down.  His Itwords  wwould only survive in fragments—or perhaps his writing was simply that terse—but his words they would be preserved, in a format that was still being read over a thousand years later.     Last episode we finished up the story of Xuanzang and his Journey to the West—which is to say the Western Regions -- , and thence on to India, or Tianzhu, where he walked in the footsteps of the historical Buddha, studied the scriptures at the feet of venerable teachers, such as Silabadhra at the Great Monastery of Nalanda, and eventually wound up bringingbrought back hundreds of manuscripts to Chang'an to , which he and others be translated and disseminated, impacting Buddhist thought across East Asia.  HisXuanzang's travels lasted from around 629 to 645, and he was still teaching in Chang'an in the 650s when various student-monks from Yamato  arrived to study and learn from him, eventually bringing back his teachings to the archipelago as part of the Faxiang, or Hossou, school of Buddhism. Before that we talked about the visitors from “Tukhara” and “Sha'e” recorded in the Chronicles.  As we noted, these peopley were morest likely from the Ryukyuan islands, and the names may have been conflated with distant lands overseas – but regardless, .  Whether or not it was a mistake, this it does seem to indicated that Yamato had at least an inkling of the wider world, introduced through the continental literature that they had been importing, if not the direct interactions with individuals from the Korean peninsula and the Tang court. This episode, we're going to talk about some of the relations between Yamato and the continent, including the various embassies sent back and forth, as well as one especially detailed embassy from Yamato to the Tang Court that found itself in a bit of a pickle.  After all, what did you do, back in those days, when you were and ambassador, and your country suddenly went to war?  We'll talk about that and what happened. To reorient ourselves in time, we're in the reign of Takara Hime, called aka Kyogoku Tennou during her first reign, who had reascended to the throne in 655, following the death of her brother, Prince Karu.  The Chroniclers would dub her Saimei Tennou in her second run on the throne. From the very beginning of her second reign, Takara Hime was entertaining foreign envoys.  In 654, the Three Han of the Korean Peninsula—Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla—all sent ambassadors to express their condolence on the death of her brother, and presumably to witness her ascension.  And in the 8th month of her reign, Kawabe no Maro no Omi, along with others, returned from Chang'an.  He Kawabe no Maro no Omi had been the Chief Ambassador to the Tang on an embassy sent , traveling there in the 2nd month of the previous year.  Originally he had been He was under the command of the controlling envoy, Takamuku no Obito no Kuromaro, but Kuromaro who unfortunately died in Chang'an and so Kawabe no Mari no Omi took over his role. That same year, 655, we know that there were about 100 persons recorded in Yamato from Baekje, along with envoys of Goguryeo and Silla.  These are likely the same ones we mentioned back in episode 117 when 150 Baekje envoys were present at court along with multiple members of the Emishi. Silla, for their part, had sent to Yamato a special hostage , whom we know as something like “Mimu”, along with skilled workmen.  Unfortunately, we are told that Mimu fell ill and died.  The Chronicles are pretty sparse on what this meant, but I can't imagine it was great.  After all, the whole idea of sending a hostage to another nation was as a pledge of good behavior – the idea being that the hostage was the idea that they werewas valuable enough that the sending nation wouldn't do anything too rash.  The flip side of that is if the hostage died, Of course, if they perished, the hosting country lost any leverage—and presumably the sending nation would be none too pleased.  That said, people getting sick and passing away was hardly a hostile action, and likely just considered an unfortunate situation. The following year, in 656, we see that Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla again all sent ambassadords were all sent to offer “tribute”.  The Chronicles mention that dark purple curtains were drawn around the palace site to entertain the ambassadors—likely referring to the new palace site at Asuka no Wokamoto, which probably was not yet fully built out, yet.   We are given the name of the Goguryeo ambassador, Talsa, and associate ambassador, Ilchi,  in the 8th month, Talsa and Ilichi, with 81 total members in the Goguryeo retinueof the embassy.  In seeming response, Yamato sent an embassy was sent to Goguryeo with the likes of Kashiwade no Omi no Hatsumi as the Chief Ambassador and Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwasuki as the Associate Ambassador.  Other names mentioned include We also see the likes of Inugami no Shiromaro, Kawachi no Fumi no Obito—no personal name is given—and Ohokura no Maro.  We also see thea note in the Chronicles that Yamato ambassadors to the quote-unquote “Western Sea”—which seems to refer to the Tang court, but could possibly refer to anything from the Korean Peninsula west—returned in that same year.  The two are named as Saheki no Muraji no Takunaha and Oyamashita no Naniha no Kishi no Kunikatsu.  These are both families that were clearly involved in cross-strait relations , based on how they are frequently referenced in the Chronicles as being associated with various overseas missions.  but  However, we don't seem to have clear evidence of them when these particular individualsy leavingft on this mission.  “Kunikatsu” mightay refer to an earlier ambassador to Baekje, but the names are different, so that is largely just speculation.  In any case, Uupon their return, they are said to have brought with them a parrot.  This wasn't the first parrot the court had seen—that feathery traveler had arrived in 647, or at least that is the first parrotinstance  we have in the written record -- .  Aand that one came from Silla as part of that embassy's gifts. Continuing on, in 657, The following year there was another group of ambassadors returned coming  from the “Western Seas”, in this case coming back from—or through—Baekje.  Thisese wasere Adzumi no Muraji no Tsuratari and Tsu no Omi no Kutsuma.  The presents they brought back were, of all things:  one camel and two donkeys.  And can you imagine bringing a camel back across the sea at this point?  Even if they were using the larger ships based on continental designs, it still must have been something else to put up with a camel and donkeys onboard, animals that are not exactly known for their easy-going and compliant nature. Speaking of boats, we should probably touch on what we *think* they were usinghas been going on here.  I say *think* because we only get glimpses  of the various boats being used in the archipelago, whether from mentions in or around Yamato, archaeology, or artistic depictions, many of which came from later periods., and wSo while it is generally assumed that they the Yamato were using Tang style vessels by the 8th and 9th century, there does not appear to be clear evidence of exactly what kind of boats were being used during the early earlier periods of contact. A quick note on boat technology and navigation: while travel between the Japanese archipelago and the Korean Peninsula, and up the Yellow Sea, wasn't safe, it would have been possible with the vessels of the time.  Japan sits on the continental shelf, meaning that to the east where the shelf gives way to the Pacific Ocean with the Phillippine Sea to the south, the waters are much, much deeper than they are to the west.  In deep waters, waves are not necessarily affected by the ocean floor, meaning they can build up much more energy and require different kinds of technology to sail.  In shallower areas, such as the Sea of Japan, the Yellow Sea, the East China Sea or the Korean Straits to the west of the archipelago, there's more drag that dampens out the wave effect – it's not that these areas are uniformly shallow and calm, but they are calmer and easier to navigate in general.  Our oldest example of boats in the archipelago of any kind are dugout canoes, .  These are logs that are hollowed out  and shaped. , and tThese appear to be what Jomon era populations used to cross to the archipelago and travel between the various islands.  Though they may be considered primitive, without many of the later innovations that would increase stability and seaworthiness—something I'll touch on more a bit later—, they were clearly effective enough to populate the islands of the Ryukyuan chain and even get people and livestock, in the form of pigs, down to the Hachijo islands south of modern Tokyo.    So they weren't ineffective. Deep waters mean that the waves are not necessarily affected by the ocean floor.  Once it hits shallower water, there is more drag that affects larger waves.  This means that there can be more energy in these ocean waves.  That usually means that shallower areas tend to be more calm and easier to navigate—though there are other things that can affect that as well. We probably should note, however, that Japan sits on the edge of the continental shelf.  To the west, the seas are deep, but not nearly as deep as they are to the east, where continental shelf gives way to the Pacific ocean, with the Philippine Sea to the south.  These are much deeper waters than those of the Yellow Sea, the East China Sea, or the Korean Straits.  The Sea of Japan does have some depth to it, but even then it doesn't compare in both size and depth. Deep waters mean that the waves are not necessarily affected by the ocean floor.  Once it hits shallower water, there is more drag that affects larger waves.  This means that there can be more energy in these ocean waves.  That usually means that shallower areas tend to be more calm and easier to navigate—though there are other things that can affect that as well. All this to say that travel between the Japanese archipelago and the Korean Peninsula, and up the Yellow Sea, were all things that were likely much easier to navigate with the vessels available at the time, but that doesn't mean that it was safe. Later, we see a different type of vessel appear: .  This is a built vessel, made of multiple hewn pieces of wood.  The examples that we see show a rather square front and back that rise up, sometimes dramatically, .  There are with various protrusions on either side. We see examples of this shape , and we've seen examples in haniwa from about the 6th century, and we have some corresponding wooden pieces found around the Korean peninsula that pretty closely match the haniwa boat shapesuggest similar boats were in use there as well, .  Nnot surprising given the cultural connections.  These boats do not show examples of sails, and were likely crewed by rowers.  Descriptions of some suggest that they might be adorned with branches, jewels, mirrors, and other such things for formal occasions to identify some boats as special -- , and we even have one record of the rowers in ceremonial garb with deer antlers.  But none of this suggests more than one basic boat typevery different types of boats. In the areas of the Yellow and Yangzi rivers, area of modern China, particularly in the modern PRC, the boats we see are a little different.  They tend to be flat bottomed boats, possible evolved from  which appear to have been designed from rafts or similar .   These vessels would have evolved out of those used to transport goods and people up and down the Yellow and Yangzi rivers and their tributaries.  These boats y had developed sails, but still the boats wwere n'ot necessarily the most stable on the open ocean.  Larger boats could perhaps make their way through some of the waves, and were no doubt used throughout the Yellow Sea and similar regions.  However, for going farther abroad, we are told thatcourt chronicles note that there were other boats that were preferred: . These are sometimes called  the Kun'lun-po, or Boats of the Kunlun, or the Boats of the Dark-skinned people.  A quick dive here into how this name came to be. Originally, “Kunlun” appears to refer to a mythical mountain range, the Kunlun-shan, which may have originated in the Shan-hai-jing, the Classic of Mountains and Seas, and so may not have referred to anything specific terrestrial mountain range, ally.  Italthough the term would later attach be used to describe to the mountain chain that forms the northern edge of the Tibetan plateau, on the southern edge of the Tarim Basin. However, at some point, it seems that “Kunlun” came to refer to people -- .  Sspecifically, it came to refer to people of dark complexion, with curly hair.  There are Tang era depictions of such people, but their origin is not exactly known: it might .  It is thought that it may have have equally referred to dark-skinned individuals of African descent, or possibly referring to some of the dark-skinned people who lived in the southern seas—people like the Andamanese living on the islands west of modern Thailand or some of the people of the Malay peninsula, for example. It is these latter groups that likely were the origin, then, of the “Kun'lun-po”, referring to the ships of the south, such as those of Malay and AsutronesianAustronesian origin.  We know that from the period of at least the Northern and Southern Dynasties, and even into the early Tang, these foreign ships often , which were often plyingied the waters from trade port to trade port, and were the preferred sailing vessels for voyages to the south, where the waters could be more treacherous.  Indeed, the Malay language eventually gives us the term of their vessels as “Djong”, a term that eventually made its way into Portuguese as “Junco” and thus into English as “junk”, though this terms has since been rather broadly applied to different “Asian” style sailing vessels. So that leaves us with three ship types that the Yamato court could have been using to send these embassies back and forth to the continent: .  Were they still using their own style of native boat as seen on haniwa,, or were they adopting continental boats to their needs?   If so, were they using the flat-bottomed boats of the Tang dynasty, or the more seaworthy vessels of the foreign merchants?. Which were they using?  The general thinking is that IMost depictions I have seen of the kentoushi, the Japanese embassies to the Tang court, depict them as t is generally thought that they were probably using the more continental-style flat-bottomed, riverine vessels.  After all, they were copying so much of what the Sui and Tang courts were doing, why would they not consider these ships to likewise be superior to their own?  At least for diplomatic purposes.  I suspect that local fishermen did their own were keeping their own counsel as far as ships are concernedthing, and I also have to wonder about what got used they were using from a military standpoint for military purposes.  Certainly we see the Tang style boats used in later centuries, suggesting that these had been adopted at some earlier point, possibly by the 650s or earlier. Whatever they used, and while long-distance sailing vessels could Sailing vessels could be larger than short-distance riverine craft, this was not a luxury cruise.  , but conditions on board were not necessarily a luxury cruise.  From later accounts we know that they would really pack people into these shipspeople could be packed in.  It should be noted that individual beds and bedrooms were a luxury in much of the world, and many people probably had little more than a mat to sleep on.  Furthermore, people could be packed in tight.   Think of the size of some of these embassies, which are said to be 80 to 150 people in size.  A long, overseas journey likely meant getting quite cozy with your neighbors on the voyage.  So how much more so with a camel and two donkeys on board a vessel that was likely never meant to carry them?  Not exactly the most pleasant experience, I imagine – and this is not really any different than European sailing vessels during the later age of exploration.. So, from the records for just the first few years of Takara-hime's second reign, we see that there are lots of people going back and forth, and we have a sense of how they might be getting to and from the continent and peninsula.  Let's dive into Next, we are going to talk about one of the most heavily documented embassies to the Tang court, which set out in the 7th month of the year 659.  Not only do we get a pretty detailed account of this embassy, but we even know who wrote the account: as in our imagined intro, , as this is one of the accounts by the famous Iki no Muraji no Hakatoko, transcribed by Aston as “Yuki” no Muraji. Iki no Hakatoko's name first appears in an entry for 654, where he is quoted as giving information about the status of some of the previous embassies to the Tang court.  Thereafter, various entries are labeled as “Iki no Muraji no Hakatoko says:”, which   This would seem to indicate that these particular entries came are taken directly from another work written by Iki no Hakatoko and referred to as the “Iki Hakatoko Sho”.  Based on the quoted fragments found in the Nihon Shoki, itthis appears to be one of ourthis oldest Japanese travelogues.  It , and spends considerable time on the mission of 659, of which it would appear that Iki no Hakatoko was himself a member, though not a ranking one.  Later, Iki no Hakatoko would find himself mentioned in the Nihon Shoki directly, and he would even be an ambassador, himself. The embassy of 659 itself, as we shall see, was rather momentous.  Although it started easily enough, the embassy would be caught up in some of the most impactful events that would take place between the Tang, Yamato, and the states of the Korean peninsula. This embassy was formally under the command of Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwashiki and Tsumori no Muraji no Kiza.  It's possible In the first instance it is not clear to me if this isthat he is the same person as the previously mentioned associate envoy, Sakahibe no Iwasuki—but the kanji are different enough, and there is another Sakahibe no Kusuri who shows up between the two in the record.  However, they are both listed as envoys during the reign of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou, and as we've abundantly seen, and it wouldn't be the first time that scribal error crept in. has taken place, especially if the Chroniclers were pulling from different sources. The ambassadors took a retinue with them, including members of the northern Emishi, whom they were bringing along with them to show to the Tang court.  TheThey also  embassy ttook two ships—perhaps because of the size of the retinue, but I suspect that this was also because if anything happened to the one, you still had the other.  A kind of backup plan due to the likelihood something went wrong.  And wouldn't you know it, something did go wrong.  You see, things started out fine, departing Mitsu Bay, in Naniwa, on the 3rd day of the 7th month.  They sailed through the Seto Inland Sea and stopped at Tsukushi, likely for one last resupply and to check in with the Dazai, located near modern Fukuoka, who would have been in charge of overseeing ships coming and going to the archipelago.  They departed from Ohotsu bay in Tsukushi on the 11th day of the 8th month. A quick note: Sspeedboats these were not.  Today, one can cross from Fukuoka to Busan, on the southeast corner of the Korean peninsula, in less than a day.  The envoys, however, were taking their time.  They may have even stopped at the islands of Iki and Tsushima on their way.  By the 13th day of the 9th month—over a month from leaving Kyushu behind -- , the  ships finally came to an island along the southern border of Yamato's ally, Baekje.  Hakatoko does not recall the name of the island, but o On the following morning, around 4 AM, so just before sunrise, the two ships put out to sea together to cross the ocean, heading south, towards the mouth of the Yangzi river.  Unfortunately, the following day, the ship Iwashiki was on met with a contrary wind, and was driven away from the other ship – with nothing known of its fate until some time afterwards.  Meanwhile, the other ship, under the command of Tsumori no Muraji no Kiza, continued on and by midnight on the 16th day, it arrived at Mt. Xuan near Kuaiji Commandary in the Yue district, in modern Zhejiang.  Suddenly a violent northeast wind blew up, and p.  Tthey were saileding another 7 days before they finally arrived at Yuyao.  Today, this is part of the city of Ningbo, at the mouth of the Qiantang river, south of Shanghai and considered a part of the Yangzi Delta Region.  This area has been inhabited since at least 6300 years ago, and it has long been a trade port, especially with the creation of the Grand Canal connecting between the Yangzi and the Yellow River, which would have allowed transshipment of goods to both regions. The now half-size Yamato contingenty  left their ship at Yuyao and disembarked, and made their way to Yuezhou, the capital of the Kuaiji Commandary.  This took them a bit of time—a little over a month.  Presumably this was because of paperwork and logistics: they probably because they had to send word ahead, and I suspect they had to inventory everything they brought and negotiate carts and transportationfigure out transportation., since   Tthey didn't exactly have bags of holding to stuff it all in, so they probably needed to negotiate carts and transportation.  The finally made it to Yuezhou on the first day of the 11th intercalary month.  An “intercalary” month refers to an extra month in a year.  It was determined by various calculations and was added to keep the lunar and solar years in relative synch. From Yuezhou, things went a bit more quickly, as they were placed on post-horses up to the Eastern Capital, or Luoyang, where the Emperor Tang Gaozong was in residence.   The Tang kept a capital at Luoyang and another to the west, in Chang'an.  The trip to Luoyang was long—over 1,000 kilometers, or 1 megameter, as it were.  The trip first took them through the Southern Capital, meaning the area of modern Nanjing, which they entered on the 15th day of the month.  They then continued onwards, reaching Luoyang on the 29th day of the 11th month.  The following day, on the 30th day of the 11th intercalary month of the year 659, the Yamato envoys were granted an audience with Emperor Tang Gaozong.  As was proper, he inquired about the health of their sovereign, Takara Hime, and the envoys reported that she was doing well.  He asked other questions about how the officials were doing and whether there was peace in Yamato.  The envoys all responded affirmatively, assuring him that Yamato was at peace. Tang Gaozong also asked about the Emishi they had brought with them.  We mentioned this event previously, back in Episode XXX117 , how the Emishi had been shown to the Tang Emperor, and how they had described them for him.  This is actually one of the earliest accounts that we have describing the Emishi from the Yamato point of view, rather than just naming them—presumably because everyone in Yamato already knew who they were.  From a diplomatic perspective, of course, this was no doubt Yamato demonstrating how they were, in many ways, an Empire, similar to the Tang, with their own subordinate ethnicities and “barbarians”. After answering all of the emperor's questions, the audience was concluded.  The following day, however, was something of its own. This was the first day of the regular 11th lunar month, and it also was the celebration of the Winter Solstice—so though it was the 11th month, it may have been about 22 December according to our modern western calendars.  The envoys once again met with the emperor, and they were treated as distinguished guests—at least according to their own records of it.  Unfortunately, during the festivities, it seems that a fire broke out, creating some confusion, and .  Tthe matters of the diplomatic mission were put on hold while all of that went on. We don't know exactly what happened in the ensuing month.  Presumably the envoys took in the sites of the city, may have visited various monasteries, and likely got to know the movers and shakers in the court, who likely would have wined and dined them, inviting them to various gatherings, as since they brought their own exotic culture and experiences to the Tang court. Unfortunately, things apparently turned sour.  First off, it seems clear that the members of this embassyy weren't the only Japanese in the court.  There may have been various merchants, of course, but and we definitely know that there were students who had come on other missions and were still there likely still studying, such as those who had been learning from studying with Master Xuanzang, whose journeys we mentioned in the last several episodes.  But Wwe are given a very specific name of a troublemaker, however:  Kawachi no Aya no Ohomaro, and we are told that he was aa servant of Han Chihung, who .  Han Chihung, himself, is thought to have possiblymay have been of mixed ethnicity—both Japanese and ethnic Han, and may .  Hhe may have traveled to the Tang court on or around 653. , based on some of the records, but it isn't entirely clear. For whatever reason, on the 3rd day of the 12th month of the year 659, Kawachi no Aya no Ohomaro slandered the envoys, and although .  Wwe don't know exactly what he said, but the Tang court caught wind of the accusations and found the envoys guilty.  They were condemned to banishment, until the author of our tale, none other than Iki no Hakatoko himself, stepped up, .  He made representation to the Emperor, pleading against the slander.  , and tThe punishment was remitted, .  Sso they were no longer banished.  However, they were also then told that they could no't return home.  You see, the Tang court was in the middle of some sensitive military operations in the lands east of the sea—in other words they were working with Silla to and invadeing the Kingdom of Baekje.  Since Yamato was an ally of Baekje, it would be inconvenient if the envoys were to return home and rally Yamato to Baekje's defense. And so the entire Yamato embassy was moved to the Western Capital, Chang'an, where they were placed under individual house arrest.  They no doubt were treated well, but they were not allowed to leave, and .  Tthey ended up spending the next year in this state. of house arrest. Unfortunately, we don't have a record of just how they passed their time in Chang'an.  They likely studied, and were probably visited by nobles and others.  They weren't allowed to leave, but they weren't exactly thrown in jail, either.  After all, they were foreign emissaries, and though the Tang might be at war with their ally, there was no formal declaration of war with Yamato, as far as I can make out.  And so the embassy just sat there, for about 9 months. Finally, in the 7th month of 660, the records tell us we are told thatthat tThe Tang and Silla forces had been successful: .  Baekje was destroyed..  The Tang and Silla forces had been successful.   News must have reached Chang'an a month later, as Iki Hakatoko writes that this occurred in the 8th month of the year 660.  With the Tang special military operation on the Korean peninsula concluded, they released the envoys and allowed them to return to their own countries.  They envoys began their preparations as of the 12th day of the 9th month, no doubt eager to return home, and left were leaving Chang'an a week later, on the 19th day of the 9th month.  From there, it took them almost a month to reach Luoyang, arriving on the 16th day of the 10th month, and here they were greeted with more good news, for here it was that they met up once again with those members of their delegation who had been blown off course. As you may remember, the ship carrying Iwashiki was blown off-course on the 15th day of the 9th month in the year 659, shortly after setting out from the Korean peninsula.  The two ships had lost contact and Tsumori no Muraji no Kiza and his ship had been the one that had continued on.   Iwashiki and those with him, however, found themselves at the mercy of the contrary winds and eventually came ashore at an island in the Southern Sea, which Aston translates as “Erh-kia-wei”.   There appears to be at least some suggestion that this was an island in the Ryukyuan chain, possibly the island of Kikai.  There, local islanders, none too happy about these foreigners crashing into their beach, destroyed the ship, and presumably attacked the embassy.  Several members, including Yamato no Aya no Wosa no Atahe no Arima (yeah, that *is* a mouthful), Sakahibe no Muraji no Inadzumi (perhaps a relative of Iwashiki) and others all stole a local ship and made their way off the island.  They eventually made landfall at a Kuazhou, southeast of Lishui City in modern Zhejiang province, where they met with local officials of the Tang government, who then sent them under escort to the capital at Luoyang.  Once there, they were probably held in a similar state of house arrest, due to the invasion of Baekje, but they met back up with Kiza and Hakatoko's party. The envoys, now reunited, hung out in Luoyang for a bit longer, and thus .  Thus it was on the first day of the 11th month of 660 that they witnessed war captives being brought to the capital.  This included 13 royal persons of Baekje, from the King on down to the Crown Prince and various nobles, including the PRimiePrime Minister, as well as 37 other persons of lower rank—50 people all told.  TheThese captives y were delivered up to the Tang government and led before the emperor.  Of course, with the war concluded, and Baekje no longer a functioning state, while he could have had them executed, Tang Gaozong instead released them, demonstrating a certain amount of magnanimity.  The Yamato envoys remained in Luoyang for most of the month.  On the 19th, they had another audience with the emperor, who bestowed on them various gifts and presents, and then five days later they departed the Luoyang, and began the trek back to the archipelago in earnest. By the 25th day of the first month of 661, the envoys arrived back at Yuezhou, head of the Kuaiji Commandery.  They stayed there for another couple of months, possibly waiting for the right time, as crossing the sea at in the wrong season could be disastrous.  They finally departed east from Yuezhou on the first day of the fourth month, coming to .  They came to Mt. Cheng-an 6 days later, on the 7th, and set out to sea first thing in the morning on the 8th.  They had a southwest wind initially in their favor, but they lost their way in the open ocean, an all too commonall-too-common problem without modern navigational aids.  Fortunately, the favorable winds had carried them far enough that only a day later they made landfall on the island of Tamna, aka Jeju island. Jeju island was, at this point, its own independent kingdom, situated off the southern coast of the Korean peninsula.  Dr. Alexander Vovin suggested that the name “Tamna” may have been a corruption of a Japonic or proto-Japonic name: Tanimura.  The island was apparently quite strange to the Yamato embassy, and they met with various residents natives of Jeju island.  They, even convincinged Prince Aphaki and eight other men of the island to come with them to be presented at the Yamato court. The rest of their journey took a little over a month.  They finally arrived back in Yamato on the 23rd day of the fifth month of 661.  They had been gone for approximately two years, and a lot had changed, especially with the destruction of Baekje.  The Yamato court had already learned of what had happened and was in the process of drawing up plans for an expedition back to the Korean peninsula to restore the Baekje kingdom, and pPrince Naka no Oe himself was set to lead the troops. The icing on the cake was: Tthe reception that the envoys received upon their return was rather cold.  Apparently they were had been slandered to the Yamato court by another follower of Han Chihung—Yamato no Aya no Atahe no Tarushima—and so they weren't met with any fanfare.  We still don't know what it was that Tarsuhima was saying—possibly he had gotten letters from Chihung or Ohomaro and was simply repeating what they had said. Either way, the envoys were sick of it.  They had traveled all the way to the Tang capitals, they had been placed under house arrest for a year, and now they had returned.  They not only had gifts from the Tang emperor, but they were also bringing the first ever embassy from the Kingdom of Tamna along with them.  The slander would not stand.  And so they did what anyone would do at the time:  They apparently appealed to the Kami.  We are told that their anger reached to the Gods of the High Heaven, which is to say the kami of Takamanohara, who killed Tarushima with a thunderbolt.  Which I guess was one way to shut him up. From what we can tell, the embassy was eventually considered a success.  Iki no Hakatoko's star would rise—and fall—and rise again in the court circles.  As I noted, his account of this embassy is really one of the best and most in depth that we have from this time.  It lets us see the relative route that the envoys were taking—the Chronicles in particular note that they traveled to the Great Tang of Wu, and, sure enough, they had set out along the southern route to the old Wu capital, rather than trying to cross the Bohai Sea and make landfall by the Shandong peninsula or at the mouth of the Yellow River.  From there they traveled through Nanjing—the southern “capital” likely referring, in this instance, to the old Wu capital—and then to Luoyang.  Though they stayed there much longer than they had anticipated, they ended up living there through some of the most impactful events that occurred during this point in Northeast Asia.  they And that is something we will touch on next episode.  Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan

Last time we spoke about the January 28th Incident. In January of 1932, tensions escalated in Shanghai as anti-Japanese sentiments surged after Japan's invasion of Manchuria. Orchestrated by Yoshiko Kawashima, a Japanese spy, a provocation led to violence, sparking outrage among Japanese expatriates. Japan demanded apologies and compensation from China, threatening military action if their demands were unmet. As the Japanese military amassed forces in Shanghai, the Chinese 19th Route Army prepared to resist, igniting the conflict known as the January 28th Incident, marking the beginning of a fierce struggle for control. Amidst chaos, the Nanjing government struggled to respond to Japan's escalating aggression in Shanghai. Chiang Kai-Shek prioritized avoiding war, urging a diplomatic approach to protect Shanghai's economy. Despite pressure, the 19th Route Army was ordered to withdraw, but tensions flared when Japan attacked the Chinese garrison. The 19th Route Army fiercely resisted, leading to intense battles. As Japan sent reinforcements, Chiang faced mounting protests and criticism for his passive stance, questioning whether he could maintain his strategy against the encroaching enemy.   #144 The First Battle of Shanghai 1932 Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In the last episode we covered the January 28th Incident. At 11:30 pm on January 28, Japan ordered 2,300 Japanese Marines to advance westward along every branch road on the west side of North Sichuan Road, without waiting for a response. This road, which crosses into the northern area of the International Settlement and has frequently been designated as a Japanese defense zone, includes Target Road (now known as Wujin Road in Hongkou District, Shanghai), Qiujiang Road, and Yokohama Road. Their objective was to seize the Songhu Railway defense line at Tiantong'an Station. They faced strong resistance from the 19th Route Army, further escalating the conflict. In the early hours of the 29th, Japanese aircraft launched from the Notoro seaplane carrier, which was moored on the Huangpu River, attacked the Chinese district of Zhabei. Both the Commercial Press located at No. 584 Baoshan Road and the Oriental Library, the largest private library in China with over 300,000 books, were completely destroyed. That same day the 19th Route Army sent a telegram to the entire nation concerning the situation: Do forgive me it's a rough translation “Urgent. Dear Sir and Madam, the Japanese have occupied our three northeastern provinces, changing the color of our territory and making our nation perish. Recently, they have killed and set fire in Shanghai, and vagrants are everywhere, doing the most despicable and violent things in the world. Gunboats are coming one after another, and the Marines are all landed. At 12:00 a.m. on the 28th, they openly invaded our defense line in Zhabei, Shanghai, and challenged us. Guang Nai and others are soldiers, and they only know that it is their duty to defend themselves and defend their land. They cannot give up even an inch of land or an inch of grass. They resist to save the country and protect the race. Even if they sacrifice only one person and one bullet, they will never retreat and lose the personality of the soldiers of the Republic of China. This thing and this ambition are exposed to the sun and the sun and are known to the world. The spirits of our ancestors in heaven are truly relying on it”. On the morning of January 29, Chiang Kai-shek met with He Yingqin and Zhu Peide to discuss countermeasures. Simultaneously Zhu Peide convened a meeting with He Yingqin, Gu Zhutong, Li Jishen, Deng Shizeng, Lin Wei, and others to address issues such as defense deployment, the security of Nanjing and the Yangtze River, and resistance against Japan. Chiang Kai-Shek established the principles going forward for negotiations with Japan, emphasizing the need to prepare for talks while actively resisting. He stated that negotiations must have a clear final line of defense and a maximum limit that would not compromise administrative and territorial integrity, undermine the spirit of the Nine-Power Treaty, or jeopardize national sovereignty. If these limits were exceeded and unacceptable concessions were made, a decisive battle would be fought, even at the cost of defeat and death.  The defense and military strategy for Beijing and Shanghai included the 19th Route Army defending Shanghai with full strength, while the front guard army consisting of the 87th and 88th divisions would protect Nanjing. He Yingqin would remain in Nanjing, overseeing all party, government, and military personnel left behind. Chiang, along with the Central Political Council of the Kuomintang, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the National Government, and Chen Mingshu, all expressed their commitment to resisting Japanese aggression. Chiang also sent a telegram to He Chengjun, director of the Hubei Province Pacification Office, and Xu Tingyao, commander of the Fourth Division, stating "Last night, the Japanese invaders attacked our 19th Route Defense Line in Zhabei, Shanghai, and the battle is ongoing. Our army is determined to fight to the death. Their naval forces in Han and Xun will likely engage in military operations. We urge you to remain vigilant and defend yourselves, never yielding to them. The Fourth Division should concentrate on strict defense in Wuhan and avoid dispersal. If military funds become scarce, local governments will need to raise them independently." The National Government Military Committee appointed Chiang Kai-shek, Feng Yuxiang, Yan Xishan, and Zhang Xueliang as members responsible for mobilizing the army and commanding the Shanghai War. Chiang Kai-Shek officially resumed power after resigning to prevent a surrender and committed to a prolonged resistance. On January 30, the Chinese Nationalist Government announced the relocation of the capital to Luoyang. Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram urging resistance against the Japanese and dispatched the elite Fifth Army to reinforce Shanghai. That night, Dai Ji, the commander of the Songhu Garrison, took charge of military operations in Shanghai, overseeing the 19th Route Army. The commander-in-chief was Jiang Guangnai, with Cai Tingkai as the army commander and division commanders Qu Shounian, Mao Weishou, and Shen Guanghan. Chiang Kai-Shek then issued a telegram to his troops across the nation and again I apologize for the rough translation. "Since the Northeast Incident began, the Central Government has been enduring humiliation and maintaining peace in order to avoid war and protect the lifeline of the country. It hopes to use justice and fairness to awaken the Japanese pirates. Unexpectedly, the more we tolerate, the more arrogant they become. When the Shanghai Incident occurred, we accepted their demands with great pain, but the Japanese pirates still brazenly pressed on, repeatedly attacking our Shanghai Defense Force, bombing civilian houses, throwing bombs on the streets, and our compatriots were ravaged. The country is about to perish. Anyone with blood in his veins would rather endure it. Since the 19th Route Army has risen up to defend itself bravely, our entire army In this time of national destruction and extinction, when the revolutionary soldiers are facing imminent danger, they should fight for the dignity of the country, strive for the survival of the nation, fulfill their responsibilities for the revolution, and be determined to die rather than live in disgrace, so as to deal with the brutal Japan that destroys peace and despises faith and integrity... Chiang Kai-shek and his comrades have shared hardships for a long time. Although I am now in the opposition, I am willing to swear to live and die with the soldiers and fulfill my bounden duty. I am here to inform you in advance with my blood and sincerity, and ask you to be determined and work hard, share the same hatred with the enemy, do not be arrogant, maintain the spirit of sacrifice, stay ready to fight, and save the country from danger." From that day on, the various ministries, commissions and committees of the National Government began to move to Luoyang, but the Military Commission and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs remained in Nanjing . At the same time, the frontline troops were ordered to be jointly commanded by the Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin and the Chief of the General Staff Zhu Peide.  Typically Chinese sources breakdown what is known as the First Battle of Shanghai into three phases. In the previous episode we looked through the event up until the point of the first phase. After the initial fighting, both the 19th route army and Japanese agreed to a ceasefire so they could strengthen their positions and at least allow some form of diplomacy to occur. This went into effect on the 29th. As we mentioned, immediately afterwards the Japanese rapidly began reinforcing their position in Shanghai. They first sent the Sasebo 26th Squadron on the 30th, bearing 474 troops of the Sasebo 3rd Special Marine Corps alongside supplies. The next day the aircraft carriers Kaga and Hosho came over with 30 aircraft from the 1st air fleet. Then the cruisers Naka, Yura and Abukuma alongside 4 torpedo boats came bearing another 2000 marines. On February 1st the Terukoku Maru brought over the Yokosuka 1st Special Marine corps, roughly 525 men who landed at Huishan Wharf. With all that said and done, roughly 7000 Japanese troops had been brought over. On February 1st, the IJN warships began bombarding Nanjing from the Yangtze River, prompting Yu Jishi to frantically demand Chiang Kai-Shek transfer more troops to Shanghai. That night the Japanese light cruiser Tenryu, the protected cruisers Hirado and Taima, and the seven ships of the Navy's 23rd Destroyer Squadron fired upon Nanjing using four 140mm guns, 12 152mm single-mounted rapid-fire guns, 12 120mm single-mounted guns, and 20 76mm single-mounted rapid-fire guns. The rich and officials fled the city for refuge, but the Japanese army did not land any men to follow up the attack. Simultaneously 40,000 Shanghai workers from over 20 Japanese owned cotton mills began an anti-Japanese strike, being heavily backed by Communists. The workers began aiding the 19th route army to blockade the Japanese in the factories and streets and sabotage what they could.  On February 2nd, the Japanese army attacked Wusong several times, but was repelled each time. On the 3rd the Japanese expanded their attacks against Zhabei, Baziqiao and other locations, but the Chinese defenders successfully repelled these assaults as well. On the 4th, the Japanese launched their first major offensive, which extended the conflict to Jiangwan and Wusong. Following a day of intense fighting, the Wusong fort was destroyed by enemy bombardment; however, the Japanese army was unable to land due to the determined resistance of the Chinese defenders. The anti-aircraft artillery company from the 88th Division, reassigned to the 4th Regiment of the 156th Brigade of the 19th Route Army, managed to shoot down a Japanese aircraft. After the failure of the general offensive, Yukiichi Shiozawa was dismissed and sent back to Japan. Vice Admiral Yoshisaburo Nomura, the newly appointed commander of the Third Fleet, succeeded Shiozawa. After Nomura assumed his role, the Japanese army began to bolster its forces. Japan had initially planned to deploy troops when tensions escalated in Shanghai, but the navy had opposed this move. However, as the situation deteriorated, the navy was compelled to seek assistance from the army. On February 2, the Japanese cabinet officially decided to send troops. In response to the urgent circumstances in Shanghai, they resolved to dispatch the Shanghai Dispatch Mixed Brigade, led by Brigade Commander Major General Shimomoto Kuma, along with the 9th Division, commanded by Lieutenant General Ueda Kenkichi. The Shanghai Dispatch Mixed Brigade and the Second Independent Tank Squadron were prioritized for transport. Concurrently, the Japanese Navy also sent the Yokosuka 2nd Special Marine Corps to Shanghai. The 24th Mixed Brigade landed in Wusong on the afternoon of February 7. By this time, the combined forces of the Japanese navy, army, and air force had exceeded 10,000 personnel. At dawn on February 8, the Japanese Army's 24th Mixed Brigade launched an attack on Zhanghuabang, Yunzaobang, and Wusong Town along three routes, but they were repelled by our forces. Meanwhile on February 4, the National Government Military Commission sent out a telegram that divided the country into four defense zones. The first zone, which includes the area north of the Yellow River, was assigned to Zhang Xueliang as the commander-in-chief. The second zone, covering the area south of the Yellow River, was placed under the command of Chiang Kai-shek. The third zone, encompassing the area south of the Yangtze River as well as Fujian and Zhejiang provinces, was led by He Yingqin. The fourth zone, which includes Guangdong and Guangxi, was commanded by Chen Jitang. The telegram also stated that, aside from maintaining troops for local stability, all commanders were to concentrate their forces within their respective defense zones to confront the aggressive Japanese. Additionally, a directive was issued for the provinces of Sichuan, Hunan, Guizhou, Hubei, Shaanxi, and Henan to send troops to serve as a general reserve. On February 5, upon learning that the Japanese army had been redeployed from mainland China to Shanghai, Chairman of the Military Commission Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram from Luoyang to He Yingqin. He instructed that if the Japanese forces landed, the Chinese Air Force would engage in combat. Additionally, Chiang sent a message of condolence to Jiang Guangnai, Cai Tingkai, and Dai Ji of the 19th Route Army, stating "Brothers, you have been fighting valiantly for a week. Each time I reflect on the tremendous sacrifices made by the soldiers and their dedication, I feel a deep sadness... If necessary, Zhong (Zheng) can come to lead in person. When the Air Force enters the fray, the Army must establish various signals in advance to communicate with it and ensure coordinated efforts..." On the same day, the 88th Division arrived in Suzhou. On February 6, Chiang ordered the 261st Brigade of the 87th Division to move from Nanjing to reinforce Kunshan. The troops reached Kunshan on February 7. On February 8, Chiang directed He Yingqin to transfer an artillery battalion to support the 19th Route Army. Then, on February 9, Chiang Kai-shek mobilized the First Division, led by Commander Hu Zongnan, and the Seventh Division, commanded by Wang Jun, to prepare for reinforcement of the 19th Route Army in Shanghai. February 8th marks the second phase of the battle. On the 10th, to ensure that the 88th Division of the Central Army complied with the orders from the 19th Route Army of the Guangdong Army, Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram to Yu Jishi insisting that "your troops must strictly follow the commands of Commander-in-Chief Chiang and coordinate their movements with allied forces." The Japanese Marine Corps, under Yukio Shiozawa, initiated a three-pronged encirclement attack from Hongkou. The National Army mounted a determined defense and ultimately repelled the Japanese forces, pursuing and destroying them, which significantly lowered their morale. On February 11, Chen Cheng, commander of the Central Army's 18th Army, sent a telegram to Chiang Kai-shek from Ji'an, Jiangxi, reporting that the troops had not been paid for nearly two months and were lacking food. At that time, the National Government was planning to redeploy the National Army that had been engaged in suppressing the Communists in Jiangxi to Zhejiang and Shanghai and to relocate the capital to Luoyang.  On February 12, following a battle at Caojiaqiao, the Japanese army's strategy to consolidate their forces was entirely disrupted. The next morning, February 13, the Japanese 24th Mixed Brigade crossed the Caojiaqiao Bridge in Zhuozaobang and engaged with the Nationalist army. Seizing the moment, the 19th Route Army Headquarters aimed to annihilate the Japanese forces. The Nationalist army surrounded the Japanese troops near the Yong'an Cotton Mill. Additionally, 60 members of a suicide squad launched a suicide attack, resulting in the complete destruction of 1,600 Japanese soldiers. The Japanese army faced significant losses, thwarting their attempt to swiftly capture Wusong. On February 14, Chiang ordered the 88th and 87th Divisions, which were already stationed in Nanxiang and Kunshan near Shanghai, to be reorganized into the Fifth Army. He appointed Zhang Zhizhong, a volunteer eager to fight against the Japanese, as the commander of the Fifth Army. This new army was placed under the unified command of the 19th Route Army and took over the defense line stretching from the northern end of Jiangwan through Miaoxing to the western end of Wusong. It served as the left-wing army, while the 19th Route Army acted as the right-wing, tasked with defending Jiangwan, the area south of Dachang, and the urban region of Shanghai. To replenish the 19th Route Army's losses, Chiang repeatedly ordered reinforcements from various locations. For instance, on February 15, Shangguan Yunxiang dispatched 500 active soldiers from Bengbu to the 19th Route Army; on February 17, Liang Guanying sent 500 unarmed soldiers from Qingjiangpu; and on February 19, Liu Zhi contributed 1,000 active unarmed soldiers from Henan. On February 16, Chiang Kai-shek communicated with Finance Minister Song Ziwen via telegram, stating, "Since the Japanese refuse to withdraw their troops from Shanghai, we must resist until the end. ... Food supplies in Jiangxi and Henan will dwindle, and assistance will be completely halted. Please arrange to deposit 10 million yuan in central banknotes in Nanchang and 20 million yuan in Zhengzhou. This will allow the government to continue functioning, the army to be sustained, and perhaps we can navigate this crisis and avert collapse. This is my final request. I hope you can find a way to assist." To prevent any friction between the Fifth Army and the Nineteenth Route Army over competing for military accolades, Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram to Zhang Zhizhong and Yu Jishi on February 18. "The fight against Japan is a matter of national survival and is not a matter of honor for an individual or a certain unit. Our frontline officers and men should fully understand this. Therefore, the honor of the 19th Route Army is the honor of our entire National Revolutionary Army. There is absolutely no distinction between honor and disgrace. The Fifth Army's joining the front line is feared by the enemy and will also be slandered by the reactionaries (those who oppose the Nanjing Central Government). If we can continue to fight in the name of the 19th Route Army, it will be enough to demonstrate the strength of our National Revolutionary Army. We will share life and death, let alone honor and disgrace. I hope that this will be conveyed to the officers and men of the Fifth Army. They must unite and fight with our 19th Route Army and make no sacrifices to complete the revolutionary mission." Over on the other side, following reports of significant losses suffered by the Japanese army in Wusong, Tokyo received an imperial decree from Emperor Hirohito demanding the Shanghai incident get settled quick. In response, Chief of Staff Zairen urgently ordered the 9th Army Division, commanded by Ueda Kenkichi, to swiftly reinforce Shanghai. By the afternoon of February 13, the main contingent of the 9th Division had arrived at Shanghai Port, and by February 16, all personnel had disembarked in Wusong. Consequently, Lieutenant General Ueda took over command from Nomura. At this point, the Japanese invading forces comprised over 30,000 troops from naval, land, and air units, along with 60 to 70 field artillery pieces, more than 60 aircraft, and dozens of ships concentrated at the Wusong mouth. Ueda issued a statement late on the night of the 13th, asserting, "If anyone obstructs our division from fulfilling its mission, we will take decisive action without hesitation." On the 18th, he sent an ultimatum to Cai Tingkai, demanding, "Your army must immediately cease hostilities and withdraw from the following areas by 5:00 p.m. on February 20: on the west bank of the Huangpu River, retreat from areas connecting the western end of the concession, Caojiadu Town, Zhoujiaqiao Town, and Pushong Town to the north; on the east bank, withdraw from areas connecting Lannidu and Zhangjialou Town to the north, and retreat to a zone 20 kilometers away from the border of each concession Additionally, all military installations in the specified areas must be dismantled and no new ones established. If these demands are not met, the Japanese army will have no choice but to act freely against your forces, and your army will bear all resulting consequences." In response to Ueda's ultimatum, Tsai and Chiang ordered their front-line troops to fire heavily at Japanese positions as a warning. On the morning of February 20, Ueda commanded a full-scale attack across the front, employing tactics to break through the center while flanking from both sides. The 9th Division led the assault on the junction of Jiangwan and Miaohang, aiming to encircle Wusong from the north with the Kurume Brigade and Zhabei with the Marine Corps from the south. The Japanese began with artillery bombardments, followed by infantry and tank assaults on the Zhanghuabang and Yangshupu lines, both of which were successfully repelled by Chinese defenders. Over a thousand Japanese soldiers and several tanks in Zhabei were killed or wounded due to landmines. On February 21, Ueda personally directed thousands of infantry, supported by aircraft and artillery, to attack the Chinese defensive positions. Both sides incurred heavy casualties, and the battle continued until dawn on the 23rd. The Japanese forces attempted to encircle Jiangwan Town from Jiangwan Station, but the Chinese defenders fought valiantly, launching multiple charges and capturing Japanese Major Kong Sheng along with hundreds of soldiers. Ultimately, the Japanese army was unable to withstand the resistance and began to retreat. After the Japanese 9th Division arrived in Shanghai, it prepared to initiate a second major assault on the defenders of the city. The strategy involved a comprehensive attack stretching from Zhabei to Wusong to contain the Chinese army's strength, with primary forces concentrated on Jiangwan and Miaohang. The goal was to seize these two strategic points, achieve a breakthrough in the center, sever the link between the 5th Army and the 19th Route Army, and then defeat them individually. At dawn on February 20, the Japanese dispatched over ten aircraft for reconnaissance and bombing missions over the Miaohang area. Naval artillery and heavy army cannons heavily shelled the Miaohang positions. Simultaneously, Japanese artillery bombarded the Yunzaobang area in an effort to force a crossing and facilitate the Miaohang offensive.   By 9 am, part of the Japanese forces advanced towards the Xiaochang Temple and the Maijiazhai position, immediately conducting a fire search on our troops' positions. At noon, 3,000 Japanese soldiers launched an attack against our forces. The officers and soldiers of the 527th Regiment, defending the Maijiazhai and Zhuyuandun positions, mounted a counterattack, marking the beginning of the Battle of Miaohang. After three hours of intense fighting, the Japanese suffered significant casualties and were unable to continue, retreating to their original positions. Following this, over 2,000 Japanese troops attacked the Xiaochang Temple and Jinjiatang positions. The officers and soldiers of the 523rd Regiment, taking cover in the trenches, launched counterattacks and successfully repelled the Japanese forces. As dusk fell, the Japanese infantry halted their assaults, but naval and land artillery continued to bombard our positions in an attempt to weaken our defenses and personnel for a renewed attack the following day. On February 21, Japanese artillery relentlessly shelled the positions of the 88th Division of the Fifth Army in Miaohang. Following this, thousands of Japanese infantry launched an assault on the Yanjiazhai and Miaohang Town front. As the Japanese forces advanced, the officers and soldiers of the 523rd and 524th Regiments bravely counterattacked and successfully repelled them. However, a significant number of enemy troops coordinated a comprehensive assault on the Maijiazhai, Zhuyuandun, Xiaochangmiao, and Yanjiazhai lines south of Miaohang. Our 523rd, 524th, and 527th Regiments engaged in intense combat with the enemy, particularly at the Zhuyuandun front near Maijiazhai and Xu Xu, where the fighting was especially fierce. After a day of conflict, the enemy was temporarily pushed back. On February 22, the Japanese 9th Division launched a full-scale attack on the Miaohang position held by the 88th Division of the Fifth Army. Throughout the day, aircraft bombed the Chinese defenders, and thousands of artillery shells were fired at them. However, under the direct command of Zhang Zhizhong, the enemy faced a devastating defeat due to the coordinated three-pronged assault by the Sun Yuanliang Brigade, the Song Xilian Brigade, and the 61st Division of the 19th Route Army. The Miaohang position was ultimately saved from peril, inflicting heavy casualties on the elite forces of the Japanese 9th Division and the Kurume Mixed Brigade. This victory became known as the "Miaohang Victory." In the days that followed, the enemy continued their bombardment and attacks but were consistently repelled by the defenders. The Japanese army suffered significant losses, shifting from an all-out offensive to a more focused approach before ultimately halting their attacks. By the 25th, Ueda's overall offensive strategy had also failed. On February 24, the Japanese army decided to escalate the conflict once more, transferring the 11th and 14th divisions from Japan to join the Shanghai Expeditionary Force, which included troops already engaged in the war. At that time, the flagship of the Japanese Navy's Third Fleet, the Izumo, sustained damage from a bombing raid carried out by the suicide squad of the 19th Route Army, which sent shockwaves through Japan. Additionally, the large troop presence made a quick resolution to the war impossible. Consequently, on the 23rd, the Japanese cabinet decided to promptly reinforce the army. The General Staff then established the Shanghai Expeditionary Army Command, appointing General Shirakawa Yoshinori, the former Minister of War in the Tanaka Cabinet, to replace Ueda. They dispatched the 11th Division (led by Lieutenant General Atsutarou Atsuto), the 14th Division (led by Lieutenant General Naoaki Matsuki), and over 100 aircraft to China to initiate a larger-scale offensive in Shanghai. After several reinforcements, the Japanese forces in Shanghai, under Shirakawa's command, grew to over 90,000 troops, supported by 80 warships and 300 aircraft, significantly enhancing their combat effectiveness. In contrast, the total strength of the Chinese defenders was less than 50,000, with inadequate equipment. After a month of intense fighting, the Chinese forces had suffered heavy losses, leaving their river defenses in the Taicang Liuhe area vulnerable. Learning from the failures of the previous three commanders' frontal assaults, Shirakawa opted to land at Liuhe and flank the Songhu defenders. He directed the 9th Division and other units to launch a direct attack on Songhu and Shanghai while using the 3rd Fleet to escort the 11th Division into the Yangtze River estuary. They executed surprise landings at Liuhekou, Yanglinkou, and Qiyakou, quickly outflanking the defenders. On March 1, the Japanese forces initiated attacks in Naobei, Jiangwan, and Miaohang, employing heavy artillery, field guns, and aircraft for continuous bombardment. The infantry capitalized on this to engage in close-quarters combat, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides. Meanwhile, Shirakawa secretly instructed the 11th Division to exploit the weakness of the Chinese troops in Liuhe, forcibly landing at Qiyakou, Yanglinkou, and Liubinkou, ultimately capturing Liuhe. The fall of Liuhe posed a significant threat to the flank and rear of the Chinese army, compelling the entire force to retreat to the second line of defense (the Jiading-Huangdu line) by the evening of March 1.  After 34 days of intense fighting, they were forced to retreat to their second line of defense. At this point, the war had entered its final phase, resulting in a stalemate between the two sides. On the 2nd, the Japanese army seized Shanghai, and by March 3, they occupied Zhenru and Nanxiang, subsequently announcing a ceasefire. Now while we have been focused on the Japanese and Chinese perspectives in this, the international community was also heavily involved in the background. After the outbreak of hostilities, the British and American consuls in Shanghai offered to mediate. However despite a ceasefire being implemented the hostilities continued. So on February 2nd, Britain, America, France, Italy and Germany sent a notice to China and Japan "proposing to stop the conflict; (1) both sides immediately stop all violent acts according to the following conditions; (2) there will be no mobilization or preparation for any hostile acts between the two countries; (3) the Chinese and Japanese combatants in Shanghai will withdraw from the contact points; (4) a neutral zone will be established to separate the combatants of both sides to protect the public concession. The area will be garrisoned by neutral military and police, and various methods will be formulated by the consular corps; (5) once the two countries accept the treaty, they will not make any demands or reservations in advance, but will quickly negotiate with the assistance of neutral observers or participants in accordance with the spirit of the Kellogg-War Pact and the December 9th League of Nations resolution to resolve all outstanding issues..." Nanjing generally accepted the terms, but Japan instead proposed non-military zones be established 20 miles around the major ports of Shanghai, Hankou, Tianjin, Qingdao and Guangzhou as a sort of counter proposal. Meanwhile at the League of Nations, Yan Huiqing was drawing attention to the Shanghai incident, obviously linking it to the Manchuria incident and advocated for Article 10 of the League of Nations Charter, which was in regards to respecting territorial integrity and political independence of league nations. The League of Nations agreed and organized a committee to investigate the Shanghai incident. On February 4th Chiang Kai-Shek would write in his diary "As long as we do not lose our national sovereignty and territory, and the Japanese invaders do not put forward unacceptable conditions, we can take advantage of the opportunity of British and American intervention to negotiate with them; we cannot take a tough stance when other countries intervene, which will lead to adverse effects." By late February US Secretary of State Henry Stimson warned Japan for the second time, that the Nine Power Treaty and other treaties had to be maintained. Then on the 23rd he sent a letter reiterating the nine-power treaty and Kellogg War Pact to the League of Nations in regards to the Shanghai situation. On the 29th, a four-point plan for mediating the Shanghai incident was adopted at the League of Nations. The objective was to swiftly establish a local ceasefire agreement with the assistance of civil and military officials from various countries present in Shanghai. Following this, a round-table meeting was to be convened with representatives from nations with vested interests in Shanghai to discuss security measures for the International Settlement, the French Concession, and the local residents, as well as to address other issues. Subsequently, representatives from Britain, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, and other nations unanimously supported the plan, with Chinese representative Yan Huiqing and Japanese representative Sato Naotake also indicating their general agreement in principle. However, on March 2, the situation escalated when the Japanese army compelled the Chinese forces to retreat to their second line of defense. The Japanese side adopted a more aggressive stance, presenting four stringent conditions and insisting that the Chinese army withdraw first before halting their attacks. The Japanese forces were only willing to withdraw to the Shanghai and Wusong areas and refused to do so under the supervision of neutral countries, which the Chinese government firmly rejected. On March 3, the Japanese army launched another offensive. On that same day, U.S. Secretary of State Stimson summoned Japanese Ambassador to the United States Idebuchi, condemning Japan for accepting the League of Nations resolution on February 29 while simultaneously escalating military operations. On March 3rd a ceasefire came into effect as a formal meeting was held at the British consulate. The Chinese delegation was led by Guo Taiqi, the Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, along with military representatives Dai Ji, Huang Qiang, and seven others. The Japanese delegation included Shigemitsu Mamoru, Minister to China, and military representatives Ueda, Tashiro, and nine others. Officials from Britain, the United States, France, and other nations also participated in the meeting. During the negotiations, numerous contentious issues arose, particularly regarding the timing and location of the Japanese army's withdrawal. It would take until May 5th for a armistice agreement to be signed. The agreement designated Shanghai as a demilitarized zone, prohibiting China from stationing troops in the areas around Shanghai, Suzhou, and Kunshan, while permitting a limited number of Japanese units to remain in the city. China was permitted to maintain only a small police force within Shanghai. According to Chinese war reports, a total of 10,254 Japanese soldiers were killed or wounded in the Battle of Shanghai on January 28. According to Japanese data, a total of 3,091 Japanese soldiers were killed or wounded in the invasion of Shanghai: 620 Japanese soldiers were killed and 1,622 were wounded in the army; 149 Japanese soldiers were killed and 700 were wounded in the navy. Another Chinese report, stated the 19th Route Army and the Fifth Army suffered a total of 14,104 casualties 4,274 killed and 9,830 wounded. Among them, the 19th Route Army suffered 8,792 casualties, while the Fifth Army suffered 5,312 casualties. Shanghai residents faced bombardments from Japanese aircraft and artillery, resulting in over 6,080 fatalities, more than 2,000 injuries, 10,400 missing persons, and property losses totaling 1.6 billion yuan. At the onset of the war, the Japanese military intentionally targeted cultural institutions in Shanghai, such as the Commercial Press and the Oriental Library, leading to the total destruction of the Commercial Press, the oldest and largest publishing house in China. The Oriental Library, which housed millions of volumes, including over 100,000 rare ancient texts from the Song and Yuan dynasties and the Sikuquanshu compiled during the Qianlong era of the Qing Dynasty, was first devastated by artillery fire and then looted by Japanese forces. Reports from that time indicated that the Japanese army used trucks to transport the remaining books for seven consecutive days. 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. Thus what became known as the first battle of Shanghai had come to a not so swift end. Was its resolvement a victory for the League of Nations? Or was it just another indicator that the League of Nations was nothing but promises and pieces of paper? One man took notice of the Manchuria and Shanghai incidents, and he would soon bring Europe into a global war.  

In this sleepy bedtime history episode, I tell you about the History of the Great Wall, the "Ten-Thousand Mile Wall" (万里长城). Through it, we will explore the history of Ancient China from the birth of civilization around the Yellow River and the Yangtze River, to the Ming Dynasty, the last one to maintain and expand the Wall. Welcome to Lights Out Library Join me for a sleepy adventure tonight. Sit back, relax, and fall asleep to documentary-style stories read in a calming voice. Learn something new while you enjoy a restful night of sleep. Listen ad free and get access to bonus content on our Patreon: ⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/LightsOutLibrary621⁠⁠⁠ Listen on Youtube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@LightsOutLibraryov⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠   ¿Quieres escuchar en Español? Echa un vistazo a La Biblioteca de los Sueños! En Spotify: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://open.spotify.com/show/1t522alsv5RxFsAf9AmYfg⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ En Apple Podcasts: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/la-biblioteca-de-los-sue%C3%B1os-documentarios-para-dormir/id1715193755⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ En Youtube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@LaBibliotecadelosSuenosov⁠⁠⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This episode we will finish up the travels of Xuanzang, who circumnavigated the Indian subcontinent while he was there, spending over a decade and a half travelings, visiting important Buddhist pilgrimage sites, and studying at the feet of learned monks of India, and in particular at Nalanda monastery--a true center of learning from this period. For more, check out our blogpost page:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-122 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 122:  Journey to the West, Part 3 The courtyard at Nalanda was quiet.  Although hundreds of people were crowded in, trying to hear what was being said, they were all doing their best to be silent and still.  Only the wind or an errant bird dared speak up.  The master's voice may not have been what it once was—he was definitely getting on in years—but Silabhadra's mind was as sharp as ever. At the front of the crowd was a relatively young face from a far off land.  Xuanzang had made it to the greatest center of learning in the world, and he had been accepted as a student of perhaps the greatest sage of his era.  Here he was, receiving lessons on some of the deepest teachings of the Mahayana Buddhist sect, the very thing he had come to learn and bring home. As he watched and listened with rapt attention, the ancient teacher began to speak….   For the last two episodes, and continuing with this one, we have been covering the travels of the monk Xuanzang in the early 7th century, starting around 629 and concluding in 645.  Born during the Sui dynasty, Xuanzang felt that the translations of the Buddhist sutras available in China were insufficient—many of them had been made long ago, and often were translations of translations.  Xuanzang decided to travel to India in the hopes of getting copies in the original language to provide more accurate translations of the sutras, particularly the Mahayana sutras.  His own accounts of his journeys, even if drawn from his memory years afterwards, provide some of our most detailed contemporary evidence of the Silk Road and the people and places along the way.  After he returned, he got to work on his translations, and became quite famous.  Several of the Japanese students of Buddhism who traveled to the Tang dynasty in the 650s studied under him directly and brought his teachings back to Japan with them.  His school of “Faxiang” Buddhism became known in Japan as the Hosso sect, and was quite popular during the 7th and 8th centuries.  Xuanzang himself, known as Genjou in Japan, would continue to be venerated as an important monk in the history of Buddhism, and his travels would eventually be popularized in fantastic ways across East Asia. Over the last couple of episodes we talked about Xuanzang's illegal and harrowing departure from the Tang empire, where he had to sneak across the border into the deserts of the Western Regions.  We then covered his time traveling from Gaochang, to Suyab, and down to Balkh, in modern Afghanistan.  This was all territory under the at least nominal control of the Gokturk empire.  From Balkh he traveled to Bamyan, and then on to Kapisa, north of modern Kabul, Afghanistan.  However, after Kapisa, Xuanzang was finally entering into the northern territories of what he knew as “India”, or “Tianzhu”. Here I would note that I'm using “India” to refer not to a single country, but to the entirety of the Indian subcontinent, and all of the various kingdoms there -- including areas now part of the modern countries of Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka.  The Sinitic characters used to denote this region are pronounced, today, as “Tianzhu”, with a rough meaning of “Center of Heaven”, but it is likely that these characters were originally pronounced in such a way that the name likely came from terms like “Sindhu” or “Induka”.  This is related to the name of the Sindh or Indus river, from which India gets its name.  Xuanzang's “Record of the Western Regions” notes that the proper pronunciation of the land should be “Indu”.  In Japan, this term was transmitted through the Sinitic characters, or kanji, and pronounced as “Tenjiku”.  Since it featured so prominently in the stories of the life of the Buddha and many of the Buddhist sutras, Tenjiku was known to the people of the Japanese archipelago as a far off place that was both real and fantastical. In the 12th century, over a thousand stories were captured for the “Konjaku Monogatarishu”, or the “Collection of Tales Old and New”, which is divided up into tales from Japan, China, and India.  In the famous 9th or 10th century story, “Taketori Monogatari”, or the “Bamboo-Cutter's Tale”, about princess Kaguya hime, one of the tasks the princess sets to her suitors is to go to India to find the begging bowl of the Buddha.  Records like those produced by Xuanzang and his fellow monks, along with the stories in the sutras, likely provided the majority of what people in the Japanese archipelago knew about India, at least to begin with. Xuanzang talks about the land of India as being divided into five distinct parts—roughly the north, south, east, west, and center.  He notes that three sides face the sea and that the Snow Mountains—aka the Himalayas—are in the north.  It is, he says, “Wide in the north and narrow in the south, in the shape of a crescent moon”.  Certainly the “Wide in the north and narrow in the south” fit the subcontinent accurately enough, and it is largely surrounded by the waters of what we know as the Indian Ocean to the west, the east, and the south.  The note about the Crescent Moon might be driven by Xuanzang's understanding of a false etymology for the term “Indus”, which he claims comes from the word for “moon”.  Rather, this term appears to refer to the Indus River, also known as the Sindh or Sindhus, which comes from an ancient word meaning something like “River” or “Stream”. Xuanzang also notes that the people of the land were divided into castes, with the Brahman caste at the top of the social hierarchy.    The land was further divided into approximately 70 different countries, according to his accounts.  This is known broadly as the Early Medieval period, in India, in which the region was divided into different kingdoms and empires that rose and fell across the subcontinent, with a total size roughly equivalent to that covered by the countries of the modern European Union.  Just like Europe, there were many different polities and different languages spoken across the land – but just as Latin was the common language in Europe, due to its use in Christianity, Sanskrit was the scholarly and religious language in much of India, and could also be used as a bridge language.  Presumably, Xuanzang understood Sanskrit to some extent as a Buddhist monk.  And, just a quick note, all of this was before the introduction of Islam, though there were other religions also practiced throughout the subcontinent, but Xuanzang was primarily focused on his Buddhist studies. Xuanzang describes India as having three distinct seasons—The hot season, the rainy season, and the cold season, in that order.  Each of these were four month long periods.  Even today, the cycle of the monsoon rains is a major impact on the life of people in South Asia.  During the rainy season, the monks themselves would retreat back to their monasteries and cease their wanderings about the countryside. This tradition, called “Vassa”, is still a central practice in many Theravada Buddhist societies such as Thailand and Laos today, where they likewise experience this kind of intensely wet monsoon season. Xuanzang goes on to give an in depth analysis of the people and customs of the Indian subcontinent, as he traveled from country to country. So, as we've done before, we'll follow his lead in describing the different locations he visited. The first country of India that Xuanzang came to was the country of Lampa, or Lamapaka, thought to be modern Laghman province in Afghanistan.  At the time it was a dependency of Kapisa.  The Snow Mountains, likely meaning the Hindu Kush, the western edge of the Himalayas, lay at its north, while the “Black Mountains” surrounded it on the other three sides.  Xuanzang mentions how the people of Lampa grow non-glutinous rice—likely something similar to basmati rice, which is more prevalent in South Asian cuisine, as compared to glutinous rice like more often used in East Asia. From Lampa he headed to Nagarahara, likely referring to a site near the Kabul River associated with the ruins of a stupa called Nagara Gundi, about 4 kilometers west of modern Jalalabad, Afghanistan.  This was another vassal city-state of Kapisa.  They were still Mahayana Buddhists, but there were other religions as well, which Xuanzang refers to as “heretical”, though I'm not entirely sure how that is meant in this context.  He does say that many of the stupas were dilapidated and in poor condition. Xuanzang was now entering areas where he likely believed the historical Buddha had once walked.  In fact, Lampa was perhaps the extent of historical Buddha's travels, according to the stories and the sutras, though this seems unlikely to have been true.  The most plausible locations for the Historical Buddha's pilgrimages were along the Ganges river, which was on the other side of the subcontinent, flowing east towards modern Kolkatta and the Bengal Bay.  However, as Buddhism spread, so, too, did stories of the Buddha's travels.  And so, as far as Xuanzang was concerned, he was following in the footsteps of the Buddha. Speaking of which, at Nagarahara, Xuanzang mentions “footprints” of the Buddha.  This is a Buddhist tradition found in many places.  Xuanzang claims that the Tathagatha, the Englightened One, or the Buddha, would fly, because when he walked the land itself shook.  Footprint shapes in rock could be said to be evidence of the Buddha's travels.  Today, in many Buddhist areas you can find footprints carved into rock conforming to stories about the Buddha, such as all the toes being of the same length, or other various signs.  These may have started out as natural depressions in the rock, or pieces of artwork, but they were believed by many to be the actual point at which the Buddha himself touched down.  There are famous examples of these footprints in Sri Lanka, Thailand, and China.  Of course there are also traditions of creating images of the footprint as an object of worship.  Images of footprints, similar to images of the Great Wheel of the Law, may have been some of the earliest images for veneration, as images of the Buddha himself did not appear until much later in the tradition.  One of the oldest such footprints in Japan is at Yakushiji temple, and dated to 753.  It was created based on a rubbing brought back by an envoy to the Tang court, while they were in Chang'an. Like Buddha footprints, there are many other images and stories that show up multiple times in different places, even in Xuanzang's own narrative.  For example, in Nagarahara Xuanzang also shares a story of a cave, where an image of the Buddha could be just barely made out on the wall – maybe maybe an old carving that had just worn away, or maybe an image that was deliberately placed in the darkness as a metaphor for finding the Buddha—finding enlightenment.  This is not an uncommon theme in Buddhism as a whole.  In any case, the story around this image was that it had been placed there to subdue a naga. Now a naga is a mythical snake-like being, and  we are told that this particular naga was the reincarnation of a man who had invoked a curse on the nearby kingdom, then threw himself from a cliff in order to become a naga and sow destruction.  As the story went, the man was indeed reborn, but before he could bring destruction, the Buddha showed up and subdued him, convincing him that this was not right.  And so the naga agreed to stay in the cave, where the Buddha left an image—a shadow—to remind the naga any time that its thoughts might turn to destruction. Later in his travels, at a place name Kausambi, Xuanzang mentions another cave where the Buddha had subdued a venomous dragon and left his shadow on the cave wall.  Allowing for the possibility that the Buddha just had a particular M.O. when dealing with destructive beings, we should also consider the possibility that the story developed in one region—probably closer to the early center of Buddhism, and then traveled outward, such that it was later adopted and adapted to local traditions.  From Nagarahara, Xuanzang continued to the country of Gandhara and its capital city of Purushapura, aka modern Peshwar.  This kingdom was also under vassalage to the Kapisan king.  Here and elsewhere in the journey, Xuanzang notes not only evidence of the historical Buddha, but also monasteries and stupas purported to have been built by King Kanishka and King Asoka.  These were important figures who were held in high regard for spreading Buddhism during their reign.  Continuing through the region of Gandhara, he also passed through Udakhand and the city of Salatura, known as the birthplace of the ancient Sanskrit grammarian, Daksiputra Panini, author of the Astadhyayi [Aestudjayi].  This work is the oldest surviving description of classical Sanskrit, and used grammatical and other concepts that wouldn't be introduced into Western linguistics for eons.  Daksiputra Panini thrived around the 5th or 4th century BCE, but was likely one of the reasons that Sanskrit continued to be used as a language of scholarship and learning even as it died out of usage as the day to day language of the common people.  His works and legacy would have been invaluable to translators like Xuanzang in understanding and translating from Sanskrit. Xuanzang continued on his journey to Kashmira, situated in the Kashmir Valley.  This valley sits between the modern states of Pakistan and India, and its ownership is actively disputed by each.  It is the namesake of the famous cashmere wool—wool from the winter coats of a type of goat that was bred in the mountainous regions.  The winter coat would be made of soft, downy fibers and would naturally fall out in the spring, which the goatherds harvested and made into an extremely fine wool.  In the 7th century and earlier, however, the region was known not as much for its wool, but as a center for Hindu and Buddhist studies.  Xuanzang ended up spending two years in Kashmira studying with teachers there.  Eventually, though, he continued on, passing through the country of Rajpura, and continuing on to Takka and the city of Sakala—modern day Sialkot in the Punjab region of modern Pakistan.  Leaving Sakala, he was traveling with a group when suddenly disaster struck and they were accosted by a group of bandits.  They took the clothes and money of Xuanzang and those with him and then they drove the group into a dry pond in an attempt to corral them while they figured out what they would do—presumably meaning kill them all.  Fortunately for the group, there was a water drain at the southern edge of the pond large enough for one man to pass through.  Xuanzang and one other went through the gap and they were able to escape to a nearby village.  Once they got there, they told the people what had happened, and the villagers quickly gathered weapons and ran out to confront the brigands, who saw a large group coming and ran away.  Thus they were able to rescue the rest of Xuanzang's traveling companions.  Xuanzang's companions were devastated, having lost all of their possessions.  However, Xuanzang comforted them.  After all, they still had their lives.  By this time, Xuanzang had certainly seen his fair share of life and death problems along the road.  They continued on, still in the country of Takka, to the next great city.  There they met a Brahman, and once they told him what had happened, he started marshalling the forces of the city on their behalf.  During Xuanzang's stay in Kashmira, he had built a reputation, and people knew of the quote-unquote “Chinese monk”.  And even though the people in this region were not necessarily Buddhist—many were “heretics” likely referring to those of Hindu faith—the people responded to this pre-Internet “GoFundMe” request with incredible generosity.  They brought Xuanzang food and cloth to make into suits of clothes.  Xuanzang distributed this to his travel companions, and ended up still having enough cloth for 50 suits of clothes himself.  He then stayed at that city a month. It is odd that they don't seem to mention the name of this location.  Perhaps there is something unspeakable about it?  Still, it seems that they were quite generous, even if they were “heretics” according to Xuanzang. From the country of Takka, he next proceeded to the kingdom of Cinabhukti, where he spent 14 months—just over a year—studying with the monks there.  Once he had learned what he could, he proceeded onwards, passing through several countries in northern India until he came to the headwaters of the sacred Ganges rivers.  The Indus and the Ganges rivers are in many ways similar to the Yellow River and Yangzi, at least in regards to their importance to the people of India.  However, whereas the Yellow River and Yangzi both flow east towards the Pacific Ocean, the Indus and Ganges flow in opposite directions.  The Indus flows southwest, from the Himalayas down through modern India into modern Pakistan, emptying into the western Indian Ocean.  The Ganges flows east along the base of the Himalayas and enters the eastern Indian Ocean at Kolkatta.   At the headwaters of the Ganges, Xuanzang found a Buddhist monk named Jayagupta and chose to spend the winter and half of the following spring listening to his sermons and learning at his feet. From there he continued his travels, and ended up being summoned by King Harshavardhana of Kanyakubja, known today as the modern city of Kannauj.  Harshavardhana ruled an immense state that covered much of the territory around the sacred Ganges river.  As word of this strange monk from a far off land reached him, the King wanted to see him for himself.  Xuanzang stayed in Kannauj for three months, completing his studies of the Vibhasha Shastra, aka the Abhidarmma Mahavibhasha Shastra, known in Japanese as the Abidatsuma Daibibasharon, or just as the Daibibasharon or the Basharon, with the latter two terms referring to the translations that Xuanzang performed.   This work is not a sutra, per se, but rather an encyclopedic work that attempted to speak on all of the various doctrinal issues of its day.  It is thought to have been authored around 150 CE, and was influential in the Buddhist teachings of Kashmira, when that was a center of Orthodoxy at the time.  This is what Xuanzang had started studying, and it seems that in Kannauj he was finally able to grasp everything he felt he needed to know about it in order to effectively translate it and teach it when he returned.  That said, his quest was not over.  And after his time in Kannauj, he decided to continue on. His next stop was at the city of Ayodhya.  This was—and is—a city of particular importance in Hindu traditions.  It is said to be the city mentioned in the epic tale known as the Ramayana, though many argue that it was simply named that later in honor of that ancient city.  It does appear to be a city that the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, visited and where he preached.  It was also the home of a famous monk from Gandhara who authored a number of Buddhist tomes and was considered, at least by Xuanzang, a proper Boddhisatva.  And so Xuanzang spent some time paying homage to the places where the Buddha and other holy figures had once walked. “Ayodhya” appears in many forms across Asia.  It is a major pilgrimage center, and the city of “Ayutthaya” in Thailand was named for it, evoking the Ramayana—known in Thai as the Ramakien—which they would adopt as their own national story.  In Silla, there is a story that queen Boju, aka Heo Hwang-ok, wife to the 2nd century King Suro of Geumgwan Gaya, traveled to the peninsula all the way from the foreign country of “Ayuta”, thought to mean Ayodhya.  Her story was written down in the Gaya histories and survives as a fragment found in the Samguk Yusa.  Members of the Gimhae Kim, Gimhae Heo, and Incheon Yi clans all trace their lineage back to her and King Suro. From Ayodhya, Xuanzang took a trip down the Ganges river.  The boat was packed to bursting with some 80 other travelers, and as they traveled towards a particularly heavily forested area, they were set upon by bandits, who rowed their ships out from hiding in the trees and forced the travelers to the shore.  There the bandits made all the travelers strip down and take off their clothing so that the bandits could search for gold or valuables.  According to Xuanzang's biography, these bandits were followers of Durga, a Hindu warrior-goddess, and it is said that each year they would look for someone of particularly handsome features to sacrifice to her.  With Xuanzang's foreign features, they chose him.  And so they took him to be killed.  Xuanzang mentioned that he was on a pilgrimage, and that by interrupting him before they finished he was worried it might be inauspicious for them, but he didn't put up a fight and merely asked to be given time to meditate and calm his mind and that they perform the execution quickly so that he wouldn't even notice. From there, according to the story, a series of miracles occurred that ended up with Xuanzang being released and the bandits worshipping at his feet.  It is times like this we must remember that this biography was being written by Xuanzang's students based on stories he told them about his travels.  While being accosted by bandits on the river strikes me as perfectly plausible, we don't necessarily have the most reliable narrators, so I'm going to have to wonder about the rest.  Speaking of unreliable narration, the exact route that Xuanzang traveled from here on is unclear to me, based on his stated goals and where he was going.  It is possible that he was wandering as opportunities presented themselves —I don't know that he had any kind of map or GPS, like we've said in the past.  And it may be that the routes from one place to another were not always straightforward.  Regardless, he seems to wander southeast for a period before turning again to the north and eventually reaching the city of Shravasti. Shravasti appeared in our discussion of the men of Tukhara in Episode 119.  With the men of Tukhara there was also mentioned a woman from Shravasti.  While it is unlikely that was actually the case—the names were probably about individuals from the Ryukyuan island chain rather than from India—it is probably worth nothing that Shravasti was a thriving place in ancient times.  It was at one time the capital city of the kingdom of Kosala, sharing that distinction with the city of Ayodhya, back in the 7th to 5th centuries BCE.  It is also where the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, was said to have spend many years of his life.  This latter fact would have no doubt made it a place of particular importance to Xuanzang on his journeys. From there he traveled east, ending up following the foothills of the Himalayas, and finally came to some of the most central pilgrimages sites for followers of the historical Buddha.  First, he reached Lumbini wood, in modern Nepal, said to have been the birthplace of Prince Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha.  And then he visited Kushinagara, the site where the Buddha ascended to nirvana—in other words, the place where he passed away.  From there, he traveled to Varanasi, and the deer park monastery, at the place where the Buddha is said to have given one of his most famous sermons.  He even visited the Bodhi tree, the tree under which Siddhartha Gautama is said to have attained enlightenment.  He spent eight or nine days there at Bodhgaya, and word must have spread about his arrival, because several monks from the eminent Nalanda Monastery called upon him and asked him to come to the monastery with them. Nalanda Monastery was about 80 km from Bodhgaya.  This was a grand monastery and center of learning—some say that it was, for a time, the greatest in the world.  It had been founded in the 5th century by the Gupta dynasty, and many of the Gupta rulers and others donated to support the monastery, which also acted as a university.  After the fall of the Gupta dynasty, the monastery was supported by King Harsha of Kannauj, whom Xuanzang had visited earlier.  It ultimately thrived for some 750 years, and is considered by some to be the oldest residential university—meaning that students would come to the temple complex and stay in residence for years at a time to study.  According to Xuanzang, Nalanda hosted some 10,000 monks. Including hosts and guests.  They didn't only study Buddhist teachings, but also logic, grammar, medicine, and divination.  Lectures were given at more than 100 separate places—or classrooms—every day.  It was at Nalanda, that Xuanzang would meet the teacher Silabhadra, who was known as the Right Dharma Store.  Xuanzang requested that he be allowed to study the Yogacharabhumi Shastra—the Yugashijiron, in Japanese.  This is the work that Xuanzang is said to have been most interested in, and one of the works that he is credited with bringing back in one of the first full translations to the Tang dynasty and then to others in East Asia.  It is an encyclopedic work dedicated to the various forms of Yogacara practice, which focuses on the mental disciplines, and includes yoga and meditation practices.  It has a huge influence on nearly all Mahayana schools, including things like the famous Zen and Pure Land schools of Buddhism.  The Yogacharabhumi Shastra is the earliest such encyclopedic work, compiled between the 3rd and 5th centuries—so even if the monk Faxian had brought portions of it back, it was probably not in the final form that Xuanzang was able to access. Silabhadra, for his part, was an ancient teacher—some put his age at 106 years, and his son was in his 70s.  He was one of the few at Nalandra who supposedly knew all of the various texts that they had at the monastery, including the Yogacarabhumi Shastra.  Xuanzang seems to have been quite pleased to study under him.  Xuanzang stayed at the house of Silabhadra's son, Buddhabhadra, and they welcomed him with entertainment that lasted seven days.  We are told that he was then given his own lodgings, a stipend of spices, incense, rice, oil, butter, and milk, along with a servant and a Brahman.  As a visiting monk, he was not responsible for the normal monastic duties, instead being expected to spend the time in study.  Going out, he was carried around by an elephant.   This was certainly the royal treatment. Xuanzang's life at Nalandra wasn't all books: south of the monastery was the city of Rajagrha, the old capital of the kingdom of Magadha, where the ancient Gupta kings had once lived, and on occasional breaks from his studies, Xuanzang would venture out to see the various holy sites.  This included the famous Mt. Grdhrakuta, or Vulture Peak, a location said to be favored by the historical Buddha and central to the Lotus Sutra, arguably the founding document of Mahayana Buddhist tradition. After all, “Mahayana” means “Greater Vehicle” and it is in the Lotus Sutra that we see the metaphor of using different vehicles to escape a burning house.   We've already talked a bit about how the image of Vulture Peak had already become important in Japanese Buddhism: In Episode 112 we talked about how in 648, Abe no Oho-omi had drums piled up at Shitennoji in the shape of Vulture Peak. But although the sightseeing definitely enhanced his experience, Xuanzang was first and foremost there to study.  He spent 15 months just listening to his teacher expound on the Yogacarabhumi Shastra, but he also heard expositions on various other teachings as well.  He ended up studying at Nalandra Monastery for 5 years, gaining a much better understanding of Sanskrit and the various texts, which would be critically important when it came to translating them, later. But, Xuanzang was not one to stay in any one place forever, and so after 5 years—some 8 years or more into his journey, he continued on, following the Ganges east, to modern Bangladesh.  Here he heard about various other lands, such as Dvarapati—possibly referring to Dvaravati, in modern Thailand, as well as Kamalanka and Isanapura.  The latter was in modern Cambodia, the capital of the ancient Chenla kingdom.  Then Mahacampa—possibly referring to the Champa region of Vietnam—and the country of Yamanadvipa.  But there was still more of India for Xuanzang to discover, and more teachings to uncover, and so Xuanzang decided instead to head southwest, following the coast.  He heard of the country of Sinhala, referring to the island of Sri Lanka, but he was urged not to go by ship, as the long journey was perilous.  Instead he could stay on relatively dry land and head down to the southern tip of the subcontinent and then make a quick hop from there across to the island.  He traveled a long distance, all the way down to Kancipuram, the seat of the Pallava dynasty, near modern day Chennai.  From the seaport near Kancipuram, it was only three days to Sinhala—that is to say Sri Lanka—but before he could set out, he met a group of monks who had just arrived.  They told him that the king of Sinhala had died , and there was a great famine and civil disturbances.  So they had fled with some 300 other monks. Xuanzang eventually decided not to make the journey, but he did talk with the monks and gathered information on the lands to the south, on Sri Lanka, and on the islands south of that, by which I suspect he may have meant the Maldives.  While Sri Lanka is an area important to Buddhist scholarship, particularly to the Theravada schools, this likely did not impress Xuanzang, and indeed he seemed to feel that his studies in Nalanda had more than provided him what he needed.  Sri Lanka, however, is the source of the Pali canon, one of the most complete early canons of Buddhism, which had a huge influence on Theravada Buddhism in Southeast Asia and elsewhere. So Xuanzang took plenty of notes but decided to forego the ocean voyage and headed northwest, instead.  He traveled across the breadth of India to Gujarat, and then turned back east, returning to pay respects once more to his teacher in Nalanda.  While there he heard of another virtuous monk named Prajnabhadra at a nearby monastery.  And so he went to spend several months with him, as well.  He also studied with a layman, Sastrin Jayasena, at Stickwood Hill.  Jayasena was a ksatriya, or nobleman, by birth, and studied both Buddhist and non-Buddhist texts.  He was courted by kings, but had left to continue his studies.  Xuanzang studied with him for another couple of years. Xuanzang remained at Nalanda, learning and teaching, expounding on what he had learned and gathering many copies of the various documents that he wished to take back with him, though he wondered how he might do it.  In the meantime, he also acquired quite the reputation.  We are told that King Siladitya had asked Nalanda for monks who could refute Theravada teachings, and Xuanzang agreed to go.  It isn't clear, but it seems that “Siladitya” was a title, and likely referred to King Harsha of Kannauj, whom we mentioned earlier.  Since he was a foreigner, then there could be no trouble that was brought on Nalanda and the other monks if he did poorly.  While he was waiting to hear back from Siladitya's court, which was apparently taking time to arrange things, the king of Kamarupta reached out to Nalanda with a request that Xuanzang come visit them.  While Xuanzang was reluctant to be gone too long, he was eventually encouraged to go and assuage the king. Kamarupta was a kingdom around the modern Assam region, ruled by King Bhaskaravarman, also known as King Kumara, a royal title.  This kingdom included parts of Bangladesh, Bhutan, and Nepal.  Bhaskaravarman, like so many other regents, seems to have been intrigued by the presence of this foreign monk, who had traveled all this way and who had studied at the famous Nalanda Monastery in Magadha. He invited Xuanzang to come to him.  Xuanzang's teacher, Silabhadra, had exhorted him to spread the right Dharma, and to even go to those non-Buddhists in hopes that they might be converted, or at least partially swayed. King Bhaskaravarman was quite taken with Xuanzang, wining and dining him while listening to him preach.  While there, Xuanzang learned about the country of Kamarupta.  He also learned about a path north, by which it was said it was a two month journey to arrive at the land of Shu, in the Sichuan Basin, on the upper reaches of the Yangzi – a kind of shortcut back to the Tang court.  However, the journey was treacherous—possibly even more treacherous than the journey to India had been. Eventually word reached the ears of King Siladitya that Xuanzang was at the court of King Bhaskaravarman, and Siladitya got quite upset.  Xuanzang had not yet come to *his* court, so Siladitya demanded that Bhaskaravarman send the monk to him immediately.  Bhaskaravarman refused, saying he'd rather give Siladitya his own head, which Siladitya said he would gladly accept.  Bhaskaravarman realized he may have miscalculated, and so he sailed up the Ganges with a host of men and Xuanzang to meet with Siladitya.  After a bit of posturing, Siladitya met with Xuanzang, who went with him, and eventually confronted the members of the Theravada sect in debate.  Apparently it almost got ugly, but for the King's intervention.  After a particularly devastating critique of the Theravada position, the Theravada monks are blamed for trying to use violence against Xuanzang and his fellow Mahayana monks from Nalanda, who were prepared to defend themselves.  The King had to step in and break it up before it went too far. Ultimately, Xuanzang was a celebrity at this point and both kings seem to have supported him, especially as he was realizing it was about time to head back to his own country.  Both kings was offered ships, should Xuanzang wish to sail south and then up the coast.  However, Xuanzang elected to take the northern route, hoping to go back through Gaochang, and see that city and its ruler again.  And so the Kings gave him money and valuables , along with wagons for all of the texts.  They also sent an army to protect all of the treasures, and even an elephant and more – sending him back in style with a huge send-off. So Xuanzang retraced his earlier steps, this time on an elephant.  He traveled back to Taxila, to Kashmir, and beyond.  He was invited to stay in Kashmira, but because of his retinue, he wasn't quite at leisure to just go where he wanted.  At one point, near Kapisa—modern Bagram, north of Kabul—they had to cross a river, and about 50 of the almost 700 documents were lost.  The King of Kapisa heard of this and had his own monks make copies to replace them based on their own schools.  The King of Kasmira, hearing that he was in Kapisa, also came to pay his respects. Xuanzang traveled with the King of Kapisa northwest for over a month and reached Lampaka, where he did take some time to visit the various holy sites before continuing northwest.  They had to cross the Snow Mountains—the outskirts of the Himalayas, and even though it wasn't the highest part of the range it was still challenging.  He had to dismount his elephant and travel on foot.  Finally, after going over the high mountains and coming down, he arrived back in the region of Tukhara, in the country of Khowst.  He then came to Kunduz, and paid his respects to the grandson of Yehu Khan.  He was given more guards to escort him eastward, traveling with some merchants.  This was back in Gokturk controlled lands, over a decade later than when he had last visited.  He continued east to Badakshan, stopping there for a month because of the cold weather and snow.  He eventually traveled through the regions of Tukhara and over the Pamir range.  He came down on the side of the Tarim Basin, and noted how the rivers on one side flowed west, while on the other side they flowed east.  The goings were treacherous, and at one point they were beset by bandits.  Though he and the documents were safe, his elephant panicked and fled into the river and drowned.  He eventually ended up in the country of Kashgar, in modern Xinjiang province, at the western edge of the Taklamakan desert. From there he had two options.  He could go north and hug the southern edge of the Tianshan mountains, or he could stay to the south, along the northern edge of the Himalayan range and the Tibetan plateau.  He chose to go south.  He traveled through Khotan, a land of wool and carpets.  This was a major trade kingdom, and they also grew mulberry trees for silkworms, and were known for their jade.  The king himself heard of Xuanzang and welcomed him, as many others had done.  While he was staying at the Khotanese capital, Xuanzang penned a letter to the Tang court, letting them know of his journey, and that he was returning.  He sent it with some merchants and a man of Gaochang to deliver it to the court. Remember, Xuanzang had left the Tang empire illegally.  Unless he wanted to sneak back in his best hope was that the court was willing to forgive and forget all of that, given everything that he was bringing back with him.  The wait was no doubt agonizing, but he did get a letter back.  It assured him that he was welcome back, and that all of the kingdoms from Khotan back to the governor of Dunhuang had been made aware and were ready to receive him. With such assurances, Xuanzang packed up and headed out.  The king of Khotan granted him more gifts to help see him on his way.  Nonetheless, there was still a perilous journey ahead.  Even knowing the way, the road went through miles and miles of desert, such that in some places you could only tell the trail by the bleached bones of horses and travelers who had not been so fortunate.  Eventually, however, Xuanzang made it to the Jumo River and then on to Dunhuang, from whence he was eventually escorted back to the capital city. It was now the year 645, the year of the Isshi Incident in Yamato and the death of Soga.  Xuanzang had been gone for approximately 16 years.  In that time, the Tang had defeated the Gokturks and taken Gaochang, expanding their control over the trade routes in the desert.  Xuanzang, for his part, was bringing back 657 scriptures, bound in 520 bundles carried by a train of some 20 horses.  He was given a hero's welcome, and eventually he would be set up in a monastery where he could begin the next part of his journey:  Translating all of these books. This was the work of a lifetime, but it is one that would have a profound impact on Buddhism across East Asia.  Xuanzang's translations would revolutionize the understanding of Mahayana Buddhist teachings, and students would come from as far away as the Yamato court to study under him and learn from the teacher who studied and taught at none other than Nalanda monastery itself.  His school would become popular in the Yamato capital, and the main school of several temples, at least for a time.  In addition, his accounts and his biography would introduce many people to the wider world of central and south Asia.  While I could go on, this has already been a story in three parts, and this is, after all, the Chronicles of Japan, so we should probably tune back into what is going on with Yamato.  Next episode, we'll look at one of the most detailed accounts we have of a mission to Chang'an. Until then, I hope that this has been enjoyable.  Xuanzang's story is one of those that isn't just about him, but about the interconnected nature of the entire world at the time.  While his journey is quite epic, there were many people traveling the roads, though most of them didn't write about it afterwards.  People, artifacts, and ideas traveled much greater distances than we often consider at this time, well before any kind of modern travel.  It was dangerous, but often lucrative, and it meant that various regions could have influence well beyond what one might expect. And so, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan

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For centuries, the middle reaches of the Yellow River have served as a vital waterway linking central and northern China. But with the development of road transport, the Yellow River's role as a transportation artery faded into history. In this episode, we visit an ancient ferry port along the river and explore the lives of the boatmen's descendants.If you like what you heard, here is the podcast series, do enjoy!https://podcasts.apple.com/cn/podcast/the-yellow-river-mosaic/id1798152816

Huang Chengde has conducted field trips along the Yellow River nearly every year since 1997. From the river source to its estuary, he's explored almost every part of the river and encouraged many people to join him in the collective effort to protect the Yellow River.

Hongguang New Village is one of a dozen settlements located at the mouth of the Yellow River. In this episode, we get a glimpse of how lives have been changing in places where fishing is still very much alive against the backdrop of a world of digital transformation.

The Mu Us Desert, one of the four major deserts along the Yellow River, was once a lifeless expanse. Now, it's turning green, thanks to decades-long efforts by the locals to combat desertification. In this episode, we meet a centenarian who spent his life planting trees in Jingbian, the first county in Shaanxi Province to stop discharging silt into the Yellow River.

For centuries, the middle reaches of the Yellow River have served as a vital waterway linking central and northern China. But with the development of road transport, the Yellow River's role as a transportation artery faded into history. In this episode, we visit an ancient ferry port along the river and explore the lives of the boatmen's descendants.

This episode we continue to follow the monk Xuanzang on his path along the silk road.  From Gaochang, he traveled through the Tarim Basin, up over the Tianshan Mountains, to the heart of the Western Gokturk Qaghanate.  From there, he traveled south, through the region of Transoxania to Bactria and the land of Tukhara.  He pushed on into the Hindu Kush, witnessing the stone Buddha statues of Bamiyan, and eventually made his way to the land of Kapisa, near modern Kabul, Afghanistan.  From there he would prepare to enter the Indian subcontinent: the home of the historical Buddha. For more discussion and some photos of the areas along this journey, check out our podcast blog at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-121   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 121: Journey to the West, Part 2   The cold winds blew through the travelers' doubled up clothing and thick furs.  Cold, wet ground meant that even two sets of boots were not necessarily enough after several days.  The frozen mist would often obscure everything except for the path immediately in front, hiding the peaks and making the sky a uniform white. In many places, the path would be blocked by rock, ice, or snow—the remnants of an avalanche, which could easily take an unsuspecting traveler.  And there was the elevation.  Hiking through the mountains, it was easy enough to reach heights of a mile or higher, and for those not accustomed to that elevation the thin air could take a surprising toll, especially if you were pushing yourself.  And the road was no less kind to the animals that would be hauling said travelers and their gear. And yet, this was the path that Xuanzang had agreed to.  He would continue to push through, despite the various deprivations that he would be subjected to.  No doubt he often wondered if it was worth it.  Then again, returning was just as dangerous a trip, so why not push on?   Last episode we introduced the monk Xuanzang, who traveled the Silk Road to India in the 7th century and returned to China.  He brought back numerous sutras to translate, and ended up founding a new school, known as the Faxian school—or the Hossou school in Japan.   As we mentioned last time, Xuanzang during his lifetime met with students from the archipelago when they visited the continent.  The records of his travels—including his biography and travelogue—are some of the best information we have on what life was like on the silk road around this time. In the last episode, we talked about Xuanzang: how he set out on his travels, his illegal departure from the Tang empire, and his perilous journey across the desert, ending up in Gaochang.  There, King Qu Wentai had tried to get him to stay, but he was determined to head out.  This episode we are going to cover his trip to Agni, Kucha, and Baluka—modern Aksu—and up to the Western Gokturk Qaghanate's capital of Suyab.  From there, we'll follow his footsteps through the Turkic controlled regions of Transoxania and into Tukhara, in modern Afghanistan.  Finally, we'll cover the last parts of his journey before he reached the start of his goal:  India. From Gaochang, Xuanzang continued on, through the towns he names as Wuban and Dujin, and into the country of Agni—known today as the area of Yanqi—which may also have been known as Wuqi.  The route was well-enough known, but it wasn't necessarily safe.  At one point, Xuanzang's caravan met with bandits, whom they were fortunately able to pay off.  The following night they encamped on a river bank with some merchants who also happened to be traveling the road.  The merchants, though, got up at midnight and headed out, hoping to get to the city early so that they could be the first ones to the market.  They only made it a few miles down the road, however, before they encountered more bandits, who slaughtered them and took their goods.  The following day, Xuanzang and his retinue came upon the merchants' remains lying in the road and saw the aftermath of the massacre. This was an unforgiving land, and the road was truly dangerous, even for those who traveled it regularly.  And yet Xuanzang was planning to travel its entire length until he reached India. So with little alternative, they carried on to the royal city of Agni. Agni, or Yanqi, sits on the southwestern edge of the basin, west of Bositeng lake, on the border between the Turfan basin and the larger Tarim Basin.  The name is thought to be a Tocharian—or Turfanian—name for the city, which is also known as Karashr. According to the biography by Huili, Xuanzang and his party didn't stay long in Agni.  Apparently Agni and Gaochang were not exactly on friendly terms, and even though the King of Agni and his ministers reportedly came out to greet Xuanzang and welcome him to their city, they refused to provide any horses.  They spent a single night and moved on. That said, Agni still made an impression on Xuanzang.  He noted how the capital was surrounded by hills on four sides, making it naturally defensible.  As for the people, he praises them as honest and straightforward.  They wore clothing of felt and hemp cloth, and cut their hair short, without hats or any kind of headwear.  Even the climate was pleasant, at least for the short time he was there.  He also notes that they used a script based on India—likely referring to the Brahmic script, which we find in the Tarim basin. However, as for the local lord, the King of Agni, he is a little less charitable.  Xuanzang claimed he was brave but “lacked resourcefulness” and he was a bit of a braggart.  Furthermore, the country had “no guiding principles or discipline and government orders are imperfect and not seriously implemented.”  He also mentioned the state of Buddhism in the country, noting that they were followers of Sarvastivada school, a Theravada sect popular along the Silk Road at the time.  Xuanzang was apparently not too pleased with the fact that they were not strict vegetarians, including the “three kinds of pure meat”.  From Agni, Xuanzang continued southwest, heading for the kingdom of Kucha.  He seems to have bypassed the nearby kingdom of Korla, south of Agni, and headed some 60 or 70 miles, climbing over a ridge and crossing two large rivers, and then proceeding another 200 miles or so to the land of Kucha. Kucha was a kingdom with over one hundred monasteries and five thousand monks following a form of Theravada Buddhism.  Here, Xuanzang was welcomed in by the king, Suvarnadeva, described as having red hair and blue eyes.  While Xuanzang was staying in Kucha, it is suspected that he probably visited the nearby Kizil grotto and the Buddhist caves, there, which include a painting of King Suvarnadeva's father, King Suvarnapuspa, and his three sons. You can still visit Kucha and the Kizil grottos today, although getting there is quite a trek, to be sure.  The ancient Kuchean capital is mostly ruins, but in the Kizil caves, protected from the outside elements, you can find vivid paintings ranging from roughly the 4th to the 8th century, when the site was abandoned.  Hundreds of caves were painted, and many still demonstrate vibrant colors.  The arid conditions protect them from mold and mildew, while the cave itself reduces the natural bleaching effect of sunlight.  The paintings are in numerous styles, and were commissioned by various individuals and groups over the years.  They also give us some inkling of how vibrant the city and similar structures must have been, back when the Kuchean kingdom was in its heyday. The people of Kucha are still something of a mystery.  We know that at least some of them spoke an Indo-European language, related to a language found in Agni, and both of these languages are often called Tocharian, which we discussed last episode.  Xuanzang himself noted that they used Indian writing, possibly referring to the Brahmi script, or perhaps the fact that they seem to have used Sanskrit for official purposes, such as the inscription on the cave painting at Kizil giving the name of King Suvarnapuspa.  The Kucheans also were clothed in ornamental garments of silk and embroidery.  They kept their hair cut, wearing a flowing covering over their heads—and we see some of that in the paintings. Xuanzang also notes that though we may think of this area as a desert, it was a place where rice and grains, as well as fruit like grapes, pomegranates, plums, pears, peaches, and almonds were grown.  Even today, modern Xinjiang grows some absolutely fantastic fruit, including grapes, which are often dried into raisins. Another point of interest for Xuanzang may have been that Kucha is known as the hometown of none other than Kumarajiva.  We first mentioned Kumarajiva back in episode 84.  Kumarajiva was one of the first people we know of who translated many of the sutras from India that were then more widely disseminated throughout the Yellow River and Yangzi river basins.  His father was from India and his mother was a Kuchean princess.  In the middle of the 4th century, when he was still quite young, he traveled to India and back with his mother on a Buddhist pilgrimage.  Later he would start a massive translation project in Chang'an.  His translations are credited with revolutionizing Chinese Buddhism. Xuanzang was initially welcomed by the king, his ministers, and the revered monk, Moksagupta.  They were accompanied by several thousand monks who set up tents outside the eastern gate, with portable Buddha images, which they worshipped, and then Xuanzang was taken to monastery after monastery until sunset.  At one of the monasteries, in the southeast of the city, there were several tens of monks who originally came from Gaochang, and since Xuanzang had come from there, they invited him to stay with them. The next day he met and feasted with the King, politely declining any meat, and then went to the monastery in the northwest to meet with the famous monk: Moksagupta.  Moksagupta himself had made the journey to India, and had spent 20 years there himself.  It seems like this would have been the perfect person for Xuanzang to talk to about his plans, but instead, the two butted heads.  Moksagupta seems to have seen Xuanzang's Mahayana faith as heretical.  He saw no reason for Xuanzang to travel all the way to India when he had all the sutras that anyone needed there in Kucha, along with Moksagupta himself.   Xuanzang's response seems to have been the Tang dynasty Buddhist version of “Okay, Boomer”, and then he went ahead and tore apart Moksagupta's understanding of his own sutras—or so Xuanzang relayed to his biographers.  We don't exactly have Moksagupta's side, and, let's face it, Xuanzang and his biographers are not necessarily reliable narrators.  After all, they followed Mahayana teachings, which they considered the “Greater Vehicle”, and they referred to the Theravada teachings as the “Hinayana” or “Lesser Vehicle”.  Meanwhile, Theravada Buddhists likely saw many of the Mahayana texts as extraneous, even heretical, not believing them to actually be the teachings of the Buddha. It must have been winter time, as the passes through the mountains on the road ahead were still closed, and so Xuanzang stayed in Kucha, spending his time sightseeing and meeting with various people.  He even went back to see Moksagupta, but the older monk shunned him, and would get up and exit the room rather than engaging with him, so they had no more conversations. Eventually, Xuanzang continued on his way west, following along the northern rim of the Tarim basin.  Two days out from Kucha, disaster struck.  Some two thousand or so Turkish bandits suddenly appeared—I doubt Xuanzang was counting, so it may have been more or less.  I imagine that memories of what had happened to the merchants near Agni must have gone through Xuanzang's mind.   Fortunately, for him, they were fighting over loot that they had pillaged from various travelers, and since they couldn't share it equally, they fell to fighting each other and eventually dispersed. He travelled for almost 200 miles after that, stopping only for a night at the Kingdom of Baluka, aka Gumo—the modern city of Aksu.  This was another Theravada Buddhist kingdom.  Xuanzang noted tens of Buddhist temples, and over 1000 Buddhist monks.  The country was not large—about 200 miles east to west and 100 miles north to south.  For reference that means it was probably comparable in size with Kyushu, in terms of overall area, or maybe the size of Denmark—excluding Greenland—or maybe the US state of Maryland.  Xuanzang described the country as similar to Kucha in just about every way, including the written language and law, but the spoken language was different, though we don't get many more details. From Baluka, he crossed northward through the Tianshan mountains, which are classified as an extension of the Pamirs known as the Ice Mountains.  Had he continued southwest, he would have hit Kashgar and crossed over between the Pamir and Tian Shan ranges into the Ferghana valley, but instead he turned north. We don't know exactly why he took this perilous option, but the route that may have been popular at the time as it was one of the most direct routes to the seat of the Western Gokturk Empire, which he was currently traveling through. The Tian Shan mountains were a dangerous journey.  Avalanches could block the road—or worse.  Xuanzang describes the permanent ice fields—indeed, it is the ice fields and glaciers of the Tian Shan that melt in the summer and provide the oasis towns of the Tarim Basin with water, even to this day.  In Xuanzang's day, those glaciers were likely even more prevalent than today, especially as they have been recorded as rapidly disappearing since 1961.  And where you weren't on snow and ice, the ground was probably wet and damp from the melt.  To keep warm, you would wear shoes over your shoes, along with heavy fur coats, all designed to reduce exposure. Xuanzang claims that 3 or 4 of every 10 people didn't survive the crossing—and that horses and oxen fared even worse.  Even if these numbers are an exaggeration, the message is clear:  This was a dangerous journey. After about seven days, Xuanzang came out of the mountains to the “Great Pure Lake”, the “Da Qing Hai”, also known as the Hot Sea or the Salt Sea, which likely refers to Issyk Kul.  The salt content, along with the great volume of water it possesses, means that the lake rarely freezes over, which is likely why it is seen as “hot” since it doesn't freeze when the fresh water nearby does.  This lake is the second largest mountain lake in the world, and the second deepest saltwater lake.  Traveling past the lake, he continued to Suyab, near modern Tokmok, in Kyrgyzstan, just west of the modern capital of Bishkek.  This was an old Sogdian settlement, and had since become the capital of the Western Gokturks.  Sogdians—like Xuanzang's guide, Vandak—were integral to the Gokturk kingdom. Their language was the lingua franca of the Silk Road, and at the time of the Gokturk Khaganate, it was also the official court language, and so when Xuanzang appeared at the court of the Great Khagan of the Western Gokturks, it was likely the language of diplomacy. When we think of Turkic people, many in the English speaking world think of Turkiye, and perhaps of the mighty Ottoman empire.  Some may think of Turkmenistan, Kazhakstan, Kyrgyzstan, or Uzbekistan, among others.  And of course, there are the Uyghur people in Xinjiang.  All of these people claim roots in the ancestral Turkic homeland in the Altai mountains, which sit largely in western Mongolia, north of China's Xinjiang region.  Much like the Xiongnu and the Mongols, they were pastoral nomads, moving their herds across the steppes, often covering great distances.  They would regularly move through different regions, perhaps returning each season, though sometimes not returning for years at a time.  They were often seen as barbarians by settled people living in cities, and yet their goods and horses were highly prized. Nomad and sedentary lifestyles would often collide.  Farmers would turn pastureland into fields, and when the nomadic people returned on their circuits, they would find walls and fences where there was once open land, and the people there would claim to “own” the land, a concept often foreign to people who were always on the move.  Nomadic people, such as the Gokturks, were not necessarily keeping vast libraries of records about themselves and their histories, and so much of what we get comes from external sources, which do not always have incredibly reliable narrators.  To many of the settled agriculturalists, groups like the Turks were marauders who raided their villages and farms.  They were a great bogeyman of the steppes, which required the firm hand of strong defenses to keep out—or so their opponents would want people to think. While they were known for their warfare, which incorporated their mobility, but they were keenly interested in trade, as well.  They understood the value of the trade routes and the various cities and states that they included in their empire.  Thus, the Sogdians and the Gokturks seem a natural fit: the Sogdians were more settled, but not entirely so, as demonstrated by their vast trade networks.  And the Sogdians also were part of the greater central Eurasian steppe culture, so the two cultures understood each other, to a degree.  They are even depicted similarly in art, with slight differences, such as long hair that was often associated with Turks over the Sogdians.  In some areas of the Gokturk empire, Sogdians would run the cities, while the Gokturks provided military aid and protection. Xuanzang's description of the people of Suyab, or the “City of Suye River”, doesn't pick out anyone in particular, and he even says that it was a place where traders of the Hu, or foreign, tribes from different countries mingle their abodes.  He mentions the people here as being called Suli, which is also the name given to the language—this may refer to “Sogdian” in general.  They write with an alphabet that is written vertically rather than horizontally—this may refer to a few scripts that were written this way, possibly based off Syriac or Aramaic alphabets that were adapted to Sogdian and other Iranian languages, but it isn't clear. We are told that the people dressed in felt and hemp clothing, with fur and “cotton” garments.  Their clothes fit tightly, and they kept their hair cut short, exposing the top of their heads—though sometimes they shaved it completely, tying a colored silk band around the forehead. He goes on to describe these people as greedy liars, possibly a reference to the mercantile nature of many of the people at the time. Something to note: The Turks of this time had not yet encountered Islam, which was just now starting to rise up in the Middle East.  The Prophet Muhammad is said to have been born around the end of the 6th century CE and was preaching in the early 7th century, though his teachings would begin to spread outward soon enough.  But that means that the Gokturks were not an Islamic empire.  Rather, their own traditions seem to have focused on the worship of Tengri, an Altaic personification of the universe, often simplified as a “sky god”.  Tengrism can be found amongst the Xiongnu, Mongols, and others, and it was the national religion of the Gokturks themselves, but there were many who also adopted other religions that they encountered, including Zoroastrianism, Christianity, Manichaeism, and Buddhism.  In fact, Xuanzang notes that the Turks he met in Suyab would not sleep or sit on beds made of wood because wood was thought to contain the spirit of fire, which he says they worshipped.  That sounds similar to Zoroastrian beliefs, where fire is associated with Ahura Mazda, who is also worshipped as a sky god.  These may have been beliefs inherited from their Eastern Iranian Sogdian partners. In Xuanzang's biography, we are given more details about his visit to Suyab.  Apparently, as he was headed to the city, he met a hunting party, which we are told was the retinue of Yehu Khan.  Hunting was an important part of life on the steppes, and it continued to be a favorite sport of the Gokturk nobility. Yehu Khan—possibly Yagbhu Khan, though that is up for some debate—is described as being dressed in a green silk robe, with his hair exposed, and wearing  a turban of white silk about ten feet long that wrapped his forehead and hung behind his back.  His “hunting” expedition wasn't just a couple of the guys.  It included about 200 officials, all with plaited hair and dressed in brocade robes—they weren't exactly out there roughing it.  He also had his soldiers, dressed in furs, felt, or fine woolen clothes, and there were so many cavalry that they stretched out of sight.  The Khan seemed pleased to meet Xuanzang, but his hunt was expected to last another couple of days, at least, so he sent an attendant named Dharmaja to take Xuanzang back to wait for the Khan to return. Three days later, Xuanzang was given an audience.  The khan was seated in a large yurt.  Xuanzang noted the seeming incongruity between the khan, sitting there in the tent, decorated with golden flowers, with the officials dressed in magnificent brocade garments sitting in two long rows in front of him and the armed guards behind him, compared to the simple felt walls of the tent. A ”yurt” is a common feature of nomadic life on the steppes.  It wasn't exactly a single person operation to haul them around, but they can be taken down and put up with relative ease.  And while yurts could be relatively simple, there are examples of much more elaborate structures.  There is little reason they couldn't be made larger, perhaps with some extra support.  In later centuries, there are examples of giant yurts that seem like real construction projects.  Use of tents, even in a city, where they had permanent palace buildings, was likely a means of retaining the nomadic steppe traditions, even while enjoying the benefits of city life. Whom exactly Xuanzang met with is a matter of debate.  His records seem to indicate that it was Tong Yabghu Qaghan of the Western Gokturk Khaganate, but other sources say that Tong Yabghu Qaghan died in 628, and the earliest Xuanzang could have been meeting with him was 630, two years later, so if that is the case, he must have met with Tong Yabghu's son, Si Yabghu Qaghan.  It is likely that Xuanzang, who was dictating his accounts years after, mentioned the Qaghan and then, when they looked up who it was, they simply made a mistake.  Remember, Xuanzang would have had everything translated through one or two languages.  He did know what he saw, however, and he recounted what he remembered. Tong Yabghu Qaghan oversaw the height of the Gokturk Qaghanate, and appears to have favored the Buddhist religion, though there were many different religions active in their territories at the time.  They oversaw an extremely cosmopolitan empire covering huge swaths of central Eurasia, including the lucrative silk road.  Xuanzang notes that at the court there were individuals from Gaochang and even a messenger from the Han—which is to say the Tang Empire.  One wonders if Xuanzang—or anyone at that time—realized just how tenuous the Khan'sposition was.  After Tong Yabghu's death, the Qaghanate would decline, and less than a decade later it would fall to the Tang dynasty, who took Suyab and made it their western outpost.  In fact, Suyab is thought to have been the birthplace, over a century later, of a young boy who would find a love of poetry.  That boy's name was Li Bai, or Ri Haku, in Japanese. He would become one of the most famous poets in Chinese history, and his poems were even known and studied in Japan.  And it was largely through Japanese study of Li Bai's poems that his works came to the English speaking world: first through Ernest Fenollosa, who had studied in Japan, and then by the celebrated Ezra Pound, who had used Ernest's notes to help with his own translations of the poems. This was, though, as I said, over a century after Xuanzang's journey.  At the time of our story, the Qaghan was throwing a feast, including Xuanzang and all of the foreign envoys.  Xuanzang comments on the food and drink—his hosts provided grape juice in lieu of wine, and cooked a special vegetarian feast just for him, while the other guests ate a feast of meat, such as veal, lamb, fish, and the like.  There was also the music of various regions along the Silk Road, which Xuanzang found to be catchy, but of course not as refined as the music he was used to, of course.  After dinner Xuanzang was asked to expound upon the Darma, largely about the basic principle that you should be kind to one another—I doubt he was getting into the deep mysteries of Buddhist philosophy. Xuanzang stuck around the court for three more days, during which time the Qaghan tried to get him to stay, but Xuanzang insisted that he had to make it to India.  And so the Qaghan relented.  He found men in his army who could translate for Xuanzang along his journey, and had letters of introduction written to at least as far as the state of Kapisa, in modern Afghanistan. And so, armed with the Qaghan's blessing and a fresh translator, Xuanzang struck out again.  They headed westward for over one hundred miles, eventually reaching Bingyul, aka the Thousand Springs.  This is the area where the Qaghan and his court would spend his summers, and the deer in the area were protected under his orders, so that they were not afraid of humans—which sounds similar to the situation with the deer in Nara.  Continuing on another fifty miles or so—the distances are approximate as Xuanzang's primary duty was not exactly to map all of this out—Xuanzang arrived at the city of Taras, in modern Kazakhstan, another place where the cultures of the Silk Road mixed and mingled.  Xuanzang didn't have much to say about Taraz, apparently, though it is one of the oldest cities in Transoxania, founded near the beginning of the Common Era.  A few miles south of there, Xuanzang reportedly found a village of re-settled ethnic Han that had been captured by the Gokturks and settled here.  They had adopted the dress and customs of the Turkic people, but continued to speak a version of Chinese. Southwest of that he reached the City of White Water, likely referring to Aksukent.  This is the same “Aksu” as the city in Xinjiang, both of which mean “White Water” in Turkic, but this one is in the south of Kazakhstan.  Xuanzang found the climate and products an improvement over what he had experienced in Taras.  Beyond that, he next arrived at the city of Gongyu, and then south again to Nujkend, and then traveling westward to the country of Chach, aka Tashkent.  Both Nujkend and Chach were large cities in nations of smaller, mostly autonomous city-states, which made up a lot of the political geography of Transoxania. I would note that Xuanzang's notes here are much more sparse than previously.  This may be because these were outside of the Tarim basin and therefore of less interest to individuals in the Tang empire.  Or perhaps he was just making his way more quickly and not stopping at every kingdom along the way. From Tashkent, he continued southeast to the Ferghana valley—the country of Feihan.  Oddly, this country doesn't appear in Xuanzang's biography, even though the Ferghana Valley seems to have been fairly well known back in the Tang Empire—it was known as the home of some of the best horses, which were one of its first major exports.  In fact, the Han dynasty even mounted a military expedition to travel to Ferghana just to obtain horses.  Xuanzang is oddly silent on this; however, he does talk about the fertile nature of the land.  He mentions that their language here is different from the lands he had been traveling through up to this point, and also points out that the people of the Ferghana valley were also visibly different from others in the area. From the Ferghana valley, Xuanzang headed west for about 300 miles or more to the land of Sutrushana—perhaps referring to the area of Ushrusana, with its capital of Bunjikat.  This country was also largely Sogdian, and described as similar to Tashkent.  From there, he traveled west through a great desert, passing skeletons, which were the only marker of the trail other than a view of the far off mountains.  Finally, they reached Samarkand, known as the country of “Kang” in Chinese, which was also the term used to mark Sogdians who claimed descent from the people of Samarkand. Samarkand is another of the ancient cities of Central Asia, and even today is the third largest city in modern Uzbekistan.  Human activity in the region goes back to the paleolithic era, and the city was probably founded between the 8th and 7th centuries BCE.  Samarkand was conquered by Alexander the Great, and during the Achaemenid Empire it was the capital of Sogdiana.  During Xuanzang's visit, Samarkand was described as an impenetrable fortress with a large population. For all of his travel, Samarkand was the first place Xuanzang notes as specifically not a Buddhist land.  In fact, there were two monasteries, suggesting that there had been Buddhists, but if any monks tried to stay there then the locals would chase them out with fire.  Instead, they worshipped fire—likely meaning Ahura Mazda and Zoroastrianism.  This leads to a story that I have to wonder about, given the reliability of our narrators. It is said that Xuanzang was met by the King with arrogance, but after staying the night Xuanzang was able to tell the King about Buddhism and its merits.  The king was intrigued, and asked to observe the Precepts, and treated Xuanzang with hospitality and respect.  So when two of Xuanzang's attendants went to the monasteries to worship, they were chased out with fire.  When the king heard about this, he had the people arrested and ordered their hands to be cut off.  Xuanzang could not bear to witness such suffering, however, and he intervened to have them spared.  So instead the king had them flogged and banished from the city.  Ever since then, all the people believed in Buddhism. Some parts of this strike true.  It was likely that the king would entertain this strange wanderer who had arrived with letters from the great Qaghan—that may have even explained why Xuanzang had been encouraged to make the dangerous journey to Suyab in the first place, so that he could obtain such permission.  And it would not be strange for the king to listen to his teachings.  If Xuanzang's attendants were attacked, that would have been a huge breach of hospitality, and however the King felt about it, he no doubt had to do something about it.  And so all of that sounds somewhat believable.  Does that mean everyone suddenly converted to Buddhism?  I don't know that I'm quite willing to go that far.  It is also likely that there were Buddhists there already, even if the majority religion was Zoroastrianism. From Samarkand, Xuanzang traveled farther southwest, to the country of Kasanna, which seems to have been the edge of what we might call Sogdiana.   According to his biographers, however, there was a little more to all of this.  Rather, he headed west to Kusanika.  Then he traveled to  Khargan, and further on to the country of Bukhara, and then to Vadi.  All of these were “An” in Chinese, which was the name element used for Sogdians from this region.  He then continued west to the country of Horismika, on the other side of the Amu Darya, aka the Oxus River of Transoxanian fame. From there he traveled further southwest, entering into the mountains.  The path here was often such that they had to travel single-file, and there was no food or water other than what you brought with you.  Eventually they came to a set of doors, known as the Iron Gate.  This was a Turkic fortress.  It was no doubt fortuitous that he had come from his meeting with the Qaghan, and likely had permission to pass through.  From there, they entered the country of Tukhara. As we noted in Episode 119, Tukhara was in the region of Bactria.  It was bordered by the Pamir range in the east, and the Persian empire in the west.  There were also the Great Snow Mountains in the south, likely referencing the Hindu Kush. Tukhara had been conquered by the Gokturks just within the past couple of decades, and Xuanzang notes that the country had been split into largely autonomous city-states as the local royalty had died without an heir many years before.  With the Gokturk conquest, it was now administered by Tardu Shad, the son of Tong Yabghu Qaghan.  “Shad” in this case was a local title. Here, Xuanzang's narrative gets a little dicey, especially between his biography and his records.  The records of the Western Regions denotes various countries in this area.  It is unclear if he traveled to all of them or is just recounting them from records he obtained.  He does give us at least an overview of the people and the region.  I would also note that this is one of the regions he visited, again, on his return trip, and so may have been more familiar with the region than those areas he had passed through from Suyab on down. For one thing, he notes that the language of the region was different from that of the “Suli”, which appears to refer to the Sogdians.  This was the old territory of the Kushan empire, and they largely spoke Bactrian.  Like Sogdian, it was another Eastern Iranian language, and they used an alphabet based largely on Greek, and written horizontally rather than vertically.  They also had their own coins. This region had plenty of Buddhist communities, and Xuanzang describes the cities and how many monasteries they had, though, again, it isn't clear if he actually visited all of them or not.  These are countries that Li Rongji translates as “Tirmidh”, “Sahaaniyan”, “Kharuun”, “Shuumaan”, etc. It does seem that Xuanzang made it to the capital city, the modern city Kunduz, Afghanistan. Xuanzang actually had something specific for the local Gokturk ruler, Tardu Shad.  Tardu Shad's wife was the younger sister of King Qu Wentai of Gaochang, whom we met last episode.  Qu Wentai had provided Xuanzang a letter for his younger sister and her husband.  Unfortunately, Xuanzang arrived to learn that the princess of Gaochang had passed away, and Tardu Shad's health was failing.  It does seem that Tardu Shad was aware of Xuanzang, however—a letter had already come from Qu Wentai to let them know that Xuanzang was on his way.  As I mentioned last episode, letters were an important part of how communities stayed tied together.  Of course, given the perils of the road, one assumes that multiple letters likely had to be sent just in case they didn't make it.  The US Postal Service this was not. Tardu Shad, though not feeling well, granted an interview with Xuanzang.  He suggested that Xuanzang should stick around.  Then, once the Shad had recovered from his illness, he would accompany Xuanzang personally on his trip to India.  Unfortunately, that was not to be.  While Xuanzang was staying there, he was witness to deadly drama.  Tardu Shad was recovering, which was attributed to the recitations by an Indian monk who was also there.  This outcome was not exactly what some in the court had wanted.  One of the Shad's own sons, known as the Tagin prince, plotted with the Shad's current wife, the young Khatun, and she poisoned her husband.  With the Shad dead, the throne might have gone to the son of the Gaochang princess, but he was still too young.  As such, the Tagin Prince was able to usurp the throne himself, and he married his stepmother, the young Khatun.  The funeral services for the late Tardu Shad meant that Xuanzang was obliged to stay at Ghor for over a month. During that time, Xuanzang had a seemingly pleasant interaction with an Indian monk.  And when he finally got ready to go, he asked the new Shad for a guide and horses.  He agreed, but also made the suggestion that Xuanzang should then head to Balkh.  This may have meant a bit of backtracking, but the Shad suggested that it would be worth it, as Balkh had a flourishing Buddhist community. Fortunately, there was a group of Buddhist monks from Balkh who happened to be in Kunduz to express their condolences at the passing of Tardu Shad, and they agreed to accompany Xuanzang back to their hometown, lest he end up getting lost and taking the long way there. The city of Balkh is also known as “Baktra”, as in “Bactria”, another name of this region.  A settlement has been there since at least 500 BCE , and it was already an important city when it was captured by Alexander the Great.  It sits at the confluence of several major trade routes, which no doubt were a big part of its success.  Xuanzang's biography notes that it was a massive city, though it was relatively sparsely populated—probably due to the relatively recent conquest by the Gokturks, which had occurred in the last couple of decades.  That said, there were still thousands of monks residing at a hundred monasteries in and around the city.  They are all characterized as monks of Theravada schools.  Southwest of the city was a monastery known as Navasamgharama, aka Nava Vihara, or “New Monastery”.  Despite its name, the monastery may have actually been much older, going back to the Kushan emperor Kaniska, in the 2nd century CE.  Ruins identified as this “New Monastery” are still visible south of Balkh, today. The monastery is described as being beautifully decorated, and it seems that it had a relic—one of the Buddha's teeth.  There are also various utensils that the Buddha is said to have used, as well.  The objects would be displayed on festival days.  North of the monastery there was a stupa more than 200 feet in height.  South of the monastery was a hermitage.  Each monk who studied there and passed away would have a stupa erected for them, as well.  Xuanzang notes that there were at around 700 memorial stupas, such that they had to be crammed together, base to base. It was here that Xuanzang met a young monk named Prajnaakara, who was already somewhat famous in India, and well-studied.  When questioned about certain aspects of Buddhism, Xuanzang was impressed by the monk's answers, and so stayed there a month studying with the young monk. Eventually, Xuanzang was ready to continue on his journey.  He departed Balkh towards the south, accompanying the teacher Prajnakara, and together they entered the Great Snow Mountains, aka the Hindu Kush.  This path was even more dangerous than the trip through the Tian Shan mountains to Suyab.   They eventually left the territory of Tukhara and arrived at Bamiyan.  Bamiyan was a kingdom in the Hindu Kush, themselves an extension of the Himalayan Mountain range.  It Is largely based around valley, home to the modern city of Bamyan, Afghanistan, which sits along the divide between Central Asia and the Indian subcontinent.  Today it is a major center for individuals of the Hazara ethnic group, one of the main ethnic groups in Afghanistan, which is a multi-ethnic state that includes, today, the Pashtun, Hazara, Tajik, and Uzbek people, along with a number of smaller ethnic groups.  Today they largely reside in the mountainous areas of the Hindu Kush. Bamiyan made an impact on our protagonist.   Their language was slightly different from that in Tukhara, but using the same—or similar enough—writing system.  Buddhism was thriving in the capital, and we are told of a rock statue of the standing Buddha, over a hundred feet in height, along with a copper statue of the standing Buddha nearby.    There was also another reclining Buddha a mile or two down the road.  There were multiple monasteries with thousands of monks, and the ruler of that kingdom received Xuanzang well. Xuanzang wasn't the first monk to travel to Bamiyan from the Middle Kingdom—in this he was, perhaps unwittingly, on the trail of the monk Faxian.  Faxian likely did not see these statues, though, as we believe they were built in the 6th and early 7th century—at least the stone Buddha statues.  They were a famous worship site until February 2001, when the Taliban gave an order to destroy all of the statues in Afghanistan.  Despite this, they were inscribed as UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003. Fortunately, we have images from before their destruction.  These statues were a blend of Greco-Buddhist and Gandharan art styles—appropriate as it stands between the Hellenistic area of Tukhara and the ancient region of Gandhara—including the modern city of Kandahar and into the Indus Valley region of Pakistan. Continuing east through the mountains, Xuanzang eventually came out at the kingdom of Kapisa.  This may have had its capital around modern-day Bagram, north of modern Kabul, but the country seems to have been quite large.  Kapisa over saw some tens of other countries, and it is thought that at one time its influence extended from Bamyan and Kandahar to the area of modern Jalalabad.  Their language was even more different than that of Tukhara, but they were still using the same writing system.  The king of Kapisa is said to have been of Suli ethnicity—which would seem to indicate that he was Sogdian, or at least descended from people of the Transoxanian region.    Xuanzang notes that the ruler, as rough and fiery as he is described—as a true warlord or similar—he nonetheless made a silver image of the Buddha, eighteen feet in height, every year.  He also gave charity to the poor and needy in an assembly that was called every five years.  There were over one hundred monasteries and some 6000 monks, per Xuanzang's recollection, and notably, they were largely following Mahayana teachings. For the most part the monks that Xuanzang had encountered on this journey were Theravada—Xuanzang refers to them as “Hinayana”, referring to the “Lesser Vehicle” in contrast to Xuanzang's own “Mahayana”, or “Greater Vehicle”.  “Theravada” refers to the “way of the elders” and while Mahayana Buddhism largely accepts the sutras of Theravada Buddhism, there are many Mahayana texts that Theravada Buddhists do not believe are canonical.  We discussed this back in Episode 84. There was apparently a story of another individual from the Yellow River being sent as a hostage to Kapisa when it was part of the Kushan Empire, under Kanishka or similar.  Xuanzang recounts various places that the hostage, described as a prince, lived or visited while in the region.  Xuanzang's arrival likely stirred the imagination of people who likely knew that the Tang were out there, but it was such a seemingly impossible distance for most people.  And yet here was someone who had traveled across all of that distance.  One of the monasteries that claimed to have been founded because of that ancient Han prince invited Xuanzang to stay with them.  Although it was a Theravada monastery, Xuanzang took them up on the offer, both because of the connection to someone who may have been his countryman, but also because of his traveling companion, Prajnakara, who was also a Theravada monk, and may not be comfortable staying at a Mahayana monastery. Xuanzang spends a good deal of ink on the stories of how various monasteries and other sites were founded in Kapisa and the surrounding areas.  He must have spent some time there to accumulate all of this information.  It is also one of the places where he seems to have hit at least twice—once on the way to India, and once during his return journey. The King of Kapisa is said to have been a devotee of Mahayana Buddhism.  He invited Xuanzang and Prajnakara to come to a Mahayana monastery to hold a Dharma gathering.  There they met with several leading figures in the monastery, and they discussed different theories.  This gathering lasted five days, and at the end, the king offered Xuanzang and the other monks five bolts of pure brocade and various other gifts.  Soon thereafter, the monk Prajnakara was invited back to Tukhara, and so he and Xuanzang parted ways. And it was about time for Xuanzang to continue onwards as well.  From Kapisa, he would travel across the “Black Range” and into Lampaka.  This may refer to the area of Laghman or Jalalabad.  Today, this is in modern Afghanistan, but for Xuanzang, this would have been the northwestern edge of India.  He was almost there. And so are we, but we'll save his trip into India for next episode. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

We start with this week’s China news (1:34), followed by my take on whether or not Borden would’ve remained single on the mission field. (10:30). Next, we look at William Milne’s journal from February (1819), as he bares his soul after the loss of his beloved Rachel (14:53). Lastly, we look at how to Pray for China this week (42:48) followed by the story of the day I taught myself to ride a motorcycle in China, by traversing the foothills of Tibet (49:50). Follow me on X (@chinaadventures) where I post daily reminders to pray for China (PrayforChina.us). Check out all of the other things we are involved in @ PrayGiveGo.us. China Questions US Air Safety https://www.globaltimes.cn/page/202502/1328736.shtml Letters from Xi Jinping (aka, Winnie the Pooh) https://www.globaltimes.cn/special-coverage/Letters-from-Xi/index.html Lonely in Cairo https://chinacall.substack.com/p/language-learning-and-loneliness The Birth of a Child and the Death of Rachel Milne https://chinacall.substack.com/p/a-babys-birth-and-a-mothers-death PrayforChina.us (@chinaadventures on X): Feb 24 - Pray for Bortala Mongol Prefecture in northern Xinjiang Province. Xinjiang is paired for prayer with seven western States (CA, OR, WA, NV, AZ, and AK): www.PrayforChina.us Feb 25 - Pray for Qinzhou (“Cheen-joe”) Prefecture near the coast of southern China's Guangxi Province, which is paired with Mississippi and Alabama for prayer: www.PrayforChina.us Feb 26 - Pray for Songshan District in Chifeng Prefecture, the most populated of Inner Mongolia province in northern China, which is paired with the Dakotas for prayer: www.PrayforChina.us Feb 27 - Pray for Pingluo County on the banks of the Yellow River in Shizuishan Prefecture in the northern Ningxia, which is paired with western Missouri for prayer: www.PrayforChina.us Feb 28 - Pray for Jing’an District in the cosmopolitan urban center of Shanghai. Shanghai is paired with NYC for prayer: https://prayforchina.us/states/new-york.html If you enjoy this podcast, follow or subscribe on Spotify or Apple or right here on PubTV. You can also email any questions or comments to contact @ PrayforChina dot us. And don’t forget to check out everything we are involved in at PrayGiveGo.us. Luke 10:2!

We start with this week’s China news (1:34), followed by my take on whether or not Borden would’ve remained single on the mission field. (10:30). Next, we look at William Milne’s journal from February (1819), as he bares his soul after the loss of his beloved Rachel (14:53). Lastly, we look at how to Pray for China this week (42:48) followed by the story of the day I taught myself to ride a motorcycle in China, by traversing the foothills of Tibet (49:50). Follow me on X (@chinaadventures) where I post daily reminders to pray for China (PrayforChina.us). Check out all of the other things we are involved in @ PrayGiveGo.us. China Questions US Air Safety https://www.globaltimes.cn/page/202502/1328736.shtml Letters from Xi Jinping (aka, Winnie the Pooh) https://www.globaltimes.cn/special-coverage/Letters-from-Xi/index.html Lonely in Cairo https://chinacall.substack.com/p/language-learning-and-loneliness The Birth of a Child and the Death of Rachel Milne https://chinacall.substack.com/p/a-babys-birth-and-a-mothers-death PrayforChina.us (@chinaadventures on X): Feb 24 - Pray for Bortala Mongol Prefecture in northern Xinjiang Province. Xinjiang is paired for prayer with seven western States (CA, OR, WA, NV, AZ, and AK): www.PrayforChina.us Feb 25 - Pray for Qinzhou (“Cheen-joe”) Prefecture near the coast of southern China's Guangxi Province, which is paired with Mississippi and Alabama for prayer: www.PrayforChina.us Feb 26 - Pray for Songshan District in Chifeng Prefecture, the most populated of Inner Mongolia province in northern China, which is paired with the Dakotas for prayer: www.PrayforChina.us Feb 27 - Pray for Pingluo County on the banks of the Yellow River in Shizuishan Prefecture in the northern Ningxia, which is paired with western Missouri for prayer: www.PrayforChina.us Feb 28 - Pray for Jing’an District in the cosmopolitan urban center of Shanghai. Shanghai is paired with NYC for prayer: https://prayforchina.us/states/new-york.html If you enjoy this podcast, follow or subscribe on Spotify or Apple or right here on PubTV. You can also email any questions or comments to contact @ PrayforChina dot us. And don’t forget to check out everything we are involved in at PrayGiveGo.us. Luke 10:2!

This episode we kick off a series of episodes following the famous monk Xuanzang, aka the Tripitaka Master of the Law, Sanzang Fashi.  Known in Japanese as Genjo, and founder of the Faxiang school of Yogacara Buddhism, also known as the Hosso school, it was brought back to the archipelago by students who studied with the master at his temple north of the Tang capital of Chang'an.  He was particularly famous for his travels across the Silk Road to India and back--a trip that would last 16 years and result in him bringing back numerous copies of sutras from the land of the Buddha, kicking off a massive translation work.  It also would see his recollections recorded as the Record of the Western Regions, which, along with his biography based on the stories he told those working with him, give us some of the best contemporary information of the various places along the Silk Road in the 7th century. Part 1 focuses on Xuanzang's journey out of the Tang empire, braving the desert, and somehow, against the odds, making it to the country of Gaochang. For more, check out the blogpost page:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-120 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 120:  Journey to the West, Part 1 The monks from far off Yamato were enthralled.  They had journeyed across the waves on a foreign vessel, traversed a greater distance than they probably thought possible growing up in the archipelago, and had finally arrived at the capital of the Great Tang Empire, Chang'an.  They had then been sent north, to a temple where they met others from Yamato. They had come to study the Law, the Dharma, with some of the most famous teachers of the Tang dynasty, and there were few more famous than the Tripitaka Master Genjou himself.   Everyone in the monastery knew his story—he had traveled all the way to India, the birthplace of the Buddha, and returned with copies of the sutras in Sanskrit, which he and the other monks were translating. In between sessions of meditation, sutra readings, and various lectures, the students would gather round the feet of the master as he recounted his journeys.  The stories themselves were fantastic stories, telling of far off cities and people.  There were stories of bandits, and meetings with kings.  The students must have thought about how it mirrored what they, themselves, had gone through—their own Journey to the West. Last episode we talked about Tukara and what that mysterious placename might mean—and where it could be referring to.  For that we traveled all the way to the end of the Silk Road.  In this episode and continuing into the next, we are going to travel that same road with a different perspective, as we take a look at one of the most famous travelers of the Silk Road:  the monk Xuanzang, or Genjou in Japanese.  And as I hinted at in the introduction, if you're at all familiar with the famous Journey to the West, well, this and the following episodes will explore the actual history behind that story, and how intertwined it is with the history of the archipelago. For those who don't know, Xuanzang was a monk, born Chen Hui near present-day Luoyang in Henan.  He is known by many names, but one of his most famous comes from the title “Sanzang Fashi”, aka “Tripitaka Master of the Law”, from which we get the simplified name in some English sources of just “Tripitaka”.  Sanzang, or “Tripitaka”, literally translates to “Three baskets” or “Three storehouses”, referring to the Buddhist canon.  It is quite fitting, given Xuanzang's incredibly famous Journey to the Western Regions and, eventually, to India, where he journeyed to obtain the most accurate version of the Buddhist scriptures to ensure that they had the most accurate versions.  On his journey, Xuanzang apparently took detailed records of the trip, and his   “Records of the Western Regions”  provides a lot of what we know of the towns and cultures that existed there back in the 7th century – even if not all of it was experienced firsthand and  may have come through translators and second or third-hand sources. In addition, Xuanzang's biography and travelogue add a lot more information to his journey, even if they weren't necessarily written by him, but instead by his fellow monks based on his recitations to them  combined with various records that they had access to at the time.  As such, it isn't always the most reliable, but it is still highly detailed and informative.  Xuanzang would return to China and teach for many years, translating the works that he had brought back, and founding a new school of Yogachara Buddhism, known as Faxiang in Chinese, but “Hossou” in Japan.  The Hossou school was particularly popular in the 8th and 9th centuries, having been transmitted by Yamato students who had actually studied at the feet of the venerable teacher.  These included the monk Doushou, who travelled over to the continent in 653.  In 658, there are two others who came over, named Chitatsu and Chiitsu. They had travelled to the Tang court in the 7th month of that year, where they are said to have received instruction from none other than Xuanzang himself.  If this indeed was in 658, it would have been only 6 years before Xuanzang's death. Their journey had almost not happened.  The year previous, in 657, envoys were sent to Silla to ask that state to escort Chitatsu to the Tang court, along with Hashibito no Muraji no Mimumaya and Yozami no Muraji no Wakugo, but Silla refused.  They must have relented, however, as they apparently were escorting at least the monks a year or so later. Chitatsu and Chiitsu would eventually return to Yamato, as would Doushou.  Doushou is also said to have been introduced to a student of the second patriarch of the Chan, or Zen school as well.  He would return to teach at Gango-ji, the later incarnation of Asukadera, spreading the Hossou teachings from master Xuanzang. In fact, Xuanzang's impact would be felt across Asia, and much of the Buddhist world.  He would continue to be known in Japan and in the area of China, Korea, and beyond.  Japanese translations of his journeys were made between the 8th and 10th centuries from texts that had come from Xuanzang's own monastery. Nine centuries after his death, during the Ming Dynasty, Xuanzang would be further immortalized in a wildly popular novel:  Journey to the West.  The “Journey to the West” is an incredibly fantastical retelling of Xuanzang's story.  In it, Xuanzang is sent on his task by none other than the Buddha himself, who also provides three flawed traveling companions.  There is  Zhu Bajie, aka “Piggy”—a half human half pig who is known for his gluttony and lust.  Then there is Sha Wujing, aka “Sandy”—a man with a red beard and blue skin who lived in a river of quicksand.  Despite a rather frightful backstory, he was often the straight man in the story.  And then there is the famous Sun Wukong, aka “Monkey”, the most famous of the three and often more famous than Xuanzang himself.  In fact, one of the most famous English versions of the story is just called “Monkey”, an abridged telling of the story in English by Arthur Waley in 1942. “Journey to the West” is perhaps the most popular novel in all of Asia.  It has spawned countless retellings, including numerous movies and tv series.  The character of “Monkey” has further spun off into all sorts of media.  Of course, his addition was all part of the novel, but nonetheless, that novel had an historical basis, which is where we really want to explore.  Because for all of the magic and fantasy of the Ming novel, the real story is almost as fascinating without it. We are told that Xuanzang was born as Chen Hui—or possibly Chen Yi—on the 6th of April in 602 CE in Chenliu, near present-day Luoyang.  Growing up, he was fascinated by religious books.  He joined the Jingtu monastery and at the age of thirteen he was ordained as a novice monk.  However, he lived in rather “interesting times”, and as the Sui dynasty fell, he fled the chaos to Chengdu, in Sichuan, where he was fully ordained by the age of 20. Xuanzang was inspired reading about the 4th century monk Faxian, whom we mentioned back in Episode 84.  Faxian had visited India and brought back many of the earliest scriptures to be widely translated into Chinese.    However, Xuanzang was concerned, as Faxian had been, that the knowledge of the Chinese Buddhist establishment was still incomplete.  There were still works that they knew about but didn't have, and there were competing Buddhist theories in different translations of the texts.  He thought that if he could go find untranslated versions of the texts then he could resolve some of the issues and further build out the corpus of Buddhist knowledge. Around the age 25 or 27, he began his journey.  The exact date is either 627 or 629, based on the version that one reads.  That has some importance for the events that his story tells, as some of the individuals whom he is said to have met are said to have died by 627 CE, meaning that either the dates of the journey are wrong or the dates we have in other sources are wrong.  As you can imagine, that's rather important for an accurate history, but not so much for our purposes, as I think that we can still trust the broad brush strokes which paint an image of what the Silk Road was like at the time. For context, back in Yamato, this was around the time that Kashikiya Hime—aka Suiko Tenno—passed away, and Prince Tamura was placed on the throne, passing over Prince Yamashiro no Oe, the son of the late Crown Prince, Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.  Whoever was on the throne, Soga no Emishi was actually running things, and the Soga family were heavily involved in the establishment of Buddhism in the archipelago.  This is relatively around the time of Episode 103. When Xuanzang took off to the West, his intentions may have been pure, but truth be told, he was breaking the law.  Tang Taizong had come to power in 626, and the routes along the Tarim Basin were under the control of the Gokturks, whom the Tang were fighting with.  As such, travel to the Western Regions was strictly controlled.  Xuanzang and several companions had all petitioned Emperor Taizong for permission to leave, but the Emperor never replied. So Xuanzang did not have permission to leave—but he decided to head out, anyway.  His companions, however, lost their nerve, and so he set out alone. Of course, he didn't simply set off for the West.  At first he went city to city, staying at local Buddhist monasteries and sharing his teachings.  To all intents and purposes, this probably seemed like normal behavior for a monk, traveling from monastery to monastery, but it was actually taking him towards the western border. And it was going well until he reached Liangzhou—known today as Wuwei.  Li Daliang, governor of Liangzhou, enforced the prohibition that "common" people were not permitted to go to the regions of the western tribes.  Word had spread about Xuanzang, and when the governor caught wind of what was going on, he called Xuanzang into an audience to find out what he was planning to do.  Xuanzang was honest and told him he was going to the West to search for the Dharma, but the governor ordered him to return to Chang'an instead. Fortunately, there was a Buddhist teacher, Huiwei, who heard about all of this this and decided to help Xuanzang.  He had two of his own disciples escort Xuanzang to the west.  Since the governor had told him not to go, this was illegal, and so they traveled by night and hid during the day until they reached Guazhou. In Guazhou, the governor, Dugu Da, was quite pleased to meet with Xuanzang, and either hadn't heard about the order for him to return to Chang'an or didn't care.  From there, Xuanzang's path was largely obstructed by the deep and fast-flowing Hulu river.  They would have to travel to its upper reaches, where they could go through Yumenguan--Yumen Pass--which was the only safe way to cross, making it a key to the Western regions. Beyond Yumenguan there were five watchtowers, roughly 30 miles apart.  These watchtowers likely had means to signal back and forth, thus keeping an eye on the people coming and going from Yumen Pass.  Beyond that was the desert of Yiwu, also known as Hami. Xuanzang was not only worried about what this meant, his horse died, leaving him on foot.  He contemplated this in silence for a month.  Before he continued, though, a warrant arrived for his arrest.  They inquired with a local prefect, who happened to be a pious Buddhist.  He showed it to Xuanzang, and then ended up tearing up the document, and urged Xuanzang to leave as quickly as possible. Yumenguan lies roughly 80-90 kilometers—roughly 50 miles or so—from the town of Dunhuang, the last major outpost before leaving for the Western Regions.  Dunhuang had a thriving Buddhist community, and the paintings in the Mogao caves are absolutely stunning, even today—one of the most well-preserved of such collections, spanning the 4th to the 14th century.  However, at this point, Xuanzang was a wanted man, and stopping in at Dunhuang might very well have curtailed his journey before it had even begun.  Instead, he would likely need to find a way to sneak across the border without alerting anyone and then, somehow, sneak past five watchtowers, each 30 miles or so apart, with no water except what he could carry or steal at each point. At this point, one of Xuanzang's escorts had traveled on to Dunhuang, and only one remained, but Xuanzang wasn't sure his remaining companion was up to the strain of the journey, and he dismissed him, deciding to travel on alone.  He bought a horse, and he fortunately found a guide--a "Hu" person named "Shi Pantuo".  "Hu" is a generic term often translated simply as "foreigner" or "barbarian" from the western lands, and the name "Shi" referred to Sogdians from Tashkent.  The Sogdians were a people of Persian descent living in central Eurasia, between the Syr Darya and Amu Darya rivers.  That latter was also known as the Oxus river, hence another name for the region: Transoxiana.  Sogdiana appears as early as the 6th century BCE as a member of the Achaemenid Empire, and the region was annexed by Alexander the Great in 328 BCE.  It continued to change hands under a succession of empires. The Sogdian city-states themselves were centered around the city of Samarkand, and while they did not build an empire themselves, the Sogdians nonetheless had a huge impact on cultures in both the east and the west.  Sogdians became famous as traders along the silk roads, and they built tight knit communities in multiple cities along the route.  Families kept in touch over long distances, setting up vast trading networks.  In fact, there were even Sogdian communities living in Chang'an and elsewhere in the Tang Empire.  The Sogdian An Lushan would eventually rise through the ranks of the Tang dynasty court—but that was almost a century after Xuanzang's travels. There are many material items that the Sogdians helped move across the silk road, but perhaps one of the most striking things were a style of patterned textiles.  Sassanid Persia was known for its silk textiles, often woven in images surrounded by a border of pearl-shapes:  Small circles in a circular pattern around a central figure, often duplicated due to the way the fabrics were woven.  This pearl-roundel pattern was especially taken up by the Sogdians, and their fashion sense made it popular across Eurasia.  Large pearl roundel designs were used on caftans, popular throughout the Gokturk qaghanate, and the Tang court would eventually pick up the fashion of these foreigners—generally classified as “hu” by those in Chang'an.  With a round neck, closing at the side, this western-style caftan-like garment eventually found its way into Japan as the people of the Japanese archipelago adopted Tang dynasty clothing and fashion.  In fact, Japan boasts one of the most impressive collections of silk road artifacts at the Shosoin repository of Todaiji temple in Nara, and it includes clothing and fabric that show the influence of Sogdian and Turkic merchants.  The Shosoin collection contains multiple examples of those pearl roundel patterns, for example, and you can even buy reproductions of the design today in Nara and elsewhere.  The garments themselves would continue to influence the fashion of the court, indeed giving rise to some of the most popular court garments of the Nara period, and the design continued to evolve through the Heian period until it was almost unrecognizable from its origins. Sogdians were so influential that their language—an Eastern Iranian language known simply as “Sogdian”—was the lingua franca, or the common tongue, through most of the Silk Road.  If you knew Sogdian, you could probably find a way to communicate with most of the people along way.  Today, Sogdian is extinct, with the possible exception of a single language that evolved from a Sogdian dialect. Sogdians are often known in Sinitic sources by their names—by the time of the Tang dynasty, it was common practice to give foreigners, whose names didn't always translate well into Chinese dialects, a family name based on their origin.  For the Sogdians, who were quite well known and numerous, they weren't just classified with a single name, but rather they were divided up by seven names based on where they were from.  So the name “Shi”, for instance, indicated that someone was from the area of Tashkent, while the name “An” referred to a Sogdian who was descended from people from the Bukhara, and so on.  This was a practice that went at least as far back as the Han dynasty. So, returning to the story, Xuanzang's new Sogdian guide's name is given as “Shi Pantuo”.  The name "Pantuo", which would have likely been pronounced more like "b'uan d'a" at the time, is likely a version of the name "Vandak", which was indeed a very common Sogdian name meaning something like “servant” and was often used to indicate things like religious devotion, which could be related to his status as a devout Buddhist, though it also might just be coincidental.  Xuanzang was so happy with his guide's offer to help, that he bought him clothes and a horse for his troubles. And so they headed out towards Yumenguan, the Jade Pass or Jade Gate, so called because of the caravans of jade that would head out from the Middle Country ever since the Han dynasty.  In fact, the Jade Gate was originally established as part of the western end of the Han dynasty “Great Wall”.  This was not necessarily the famous Ming Dynasty wall that most people are familiar with, but the Han Dynasty wall would have been impressively high enough, with regular patrols and beacon towers.  So if you tried going over the wall, someone was likely to see you and give chase.  There is also the issue that if you had any amount of supplies you have to bring those as well—this isn't just hopping a fence.  The wall was augmented by natural features—mountains and deep and fast-flowing rivers, for example, which made walls unnecessary.  And then there was also the fact that in many places, it was just open wilderness, which was its own kind of barrier.  Trying to go off the beaten path meant wandering through uncharted territory, which someone like Xuanzang was probably not prepared to do.  It isn't like he had GPS and Google Maps to help him find his way, and if you got lost in the desert, then who knows what might happen to you. By the way, this was true even in relatively settled places, like the Japanese archipelago, up until modern times.  While there were some areas where it was relatively flat, and you could navigate by certain landmarks, if you left the roads and trails you might easily find yourself lost without access to food or shelter.  Maps were not exactly accurate.  The safest way to travel was to stick to the more well-traveled routes. Unfortunately, that meant going through the Yumen Gate itself.  There was a garrison where the road left the territory of the Tang Empire , and that garrison would be responsible for checking the papers of anyone coming into or leaving the empire.  Xuanzang, of course, didn't have the proper papers, since he didn't have permission to be there.  Fortunately, he had a guide, who seemed to know the area, and that would allow him to bypass the official checkpoint, which Xuanzang recalls seeing off in the distance.  Together, Xuanzang and Vandak snuck past the Yumen gate, and traveled several miles up the river.  There, they found a spot where the river was only about 10 feet across, near a grove of trees, and so they chopped down a few of them and made an impromptu bridge for them and their horses to cross. From that point on, until they reached Yiwu, they would have to get past the watchtowers.  Not only were these watchtowers garrisoned with men of the Tang army, but they were also the only place to get fresh water.  The travelers would need to sneak in at night to steal water from the watchtowers without getting caught. The farther they traveled, the more Vandak seemed to be getting cold feet.  Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue had they been normal travelers, but in trying to avoid the watchtowers they were making themselves into fugitives.  If they were caught they could both be killed.  He protested several times that they should just go back, and at one point Xuanzang seemed worried that Vandak was contemplating how much easier this would be for him if he just killed the old monk.  Finally, Xuanzang told Vandak that he should leave, and solemnly swore that if he was caught he wouldn't rat out Vandak for his help.  Vandak, who had been worried about just such a scenario, nonetheless took Xuanzang's word and the two parted ways. From that point on, Xuanzang recounted that the trail through the desert was marked by nothing but skeletons and horse droppings.  He thought at one point he saw an army in the desert, but it turned out to be a mirage.  Finally, he saw one of the watchtowers he had been warned about.  Not wanting to get caught, he lay down in a ditch and hid there until the sun went down. Under cover of darkness, he approached the tower, where he saw water.  He went to have a drink, and maybe wash his hands, but as he was getting out his water bag to refill it and arrow whizzed through the air and he almost took an arrow to the knee.  Knowing the jig was up, he shouted out: "I'm a monk from the capital!  Don't shoot!" He led his horse to the tower, where they opened the door and saw he really was a monk.  They woke up the captain, who had a lamp lit so he could see whom it was they had apprehended.  Right away it was clear that this traveler wasn't from around those parts—not that anyone really was, it seems. The Captain had heard of Xuanzang, but the report that had been sent said Xuanzang had gone back to Chang'an.  Xuanzang, for his part, showed a copy of the petition he had sent to the Emperor--one that he hadn't actually heard back from.  He then told the captain what he planned to do.  The captain was moved, and decided to look the other way.  He gave him a place to stay for the night and then showed him the way to the fourth watchtower, where the captain's brother was in charge, and would give him shelter. Sure enough, Xuanzang made it to the fourth watchtower, but he wasn't sure if he could entirely trust the captain, so again he tried to just secretly steal the water, but again he was caught.  Fortunately, the captain there was also sympathetic.  He let Xuanzang stay and then actually told him how to get around the fifth watchtower, since the captain there might not be as lenient.  He also told Xuanzang about an inconspicuous oasis where he could get water for himself and his horse. Reinvigorated, Xuanzang had another challenge to face.  Beyond the watchtowers was a long stretch of desert.  It was a journey of several hundred miles, and it started poorly.  First off, he missed the oasis that the captain of the fourth watchtower had indicated he could use without anyone firing arrows at him.  Then, he dropped his water bag, such that he was left with nothing.  He thought of turning back, but he continued, chanting mantras to himself.   He was dehydrated and exhausted, but he continued onward.  Some days into his journey, his horse suddenly changed course of its own accord.  Despite his efforts, it kept going, eventually coming to a pasture of grass around a pond of clean, sweet water.  That ended up saving him, and he rested there for a day, before traveling on.  Two days later, he arrived at Yiwu, aka Hami.  He had made it.  He was free. Or at least, he was until he returned to the Tang empire.  After all, Xuanzang did plan to come back, and when he did, he would have to face the music.  That was a problem for future Xuanzang.  Of course, he was also a lone traveler.  He might be free, but he was far from safe.  He was now entering the Western regions, and he would need to be on the lookout. The people of Hami, also known as Yiwu, were known to the Han dynasty as members of the Xiao Yuezhi—the kingdom or coalition that once controlled much of the northern edge of the Tarim basin.  They had been displaced by the Xiongnu, and the area would go back and forth between different hegemons, so that by the time of the Sui and early Tang dynasties they were under the sway of the Gokturks.  Still, as close as it was to the Tang borders, they no doubt had contact, and indeed, Xuanzang was given lodging at a monastery with three other monks who were “Chinese”, for whatever that meant at the time. If you've heard of Hami today you may know it for something that it was famous for even back in the 7th century:  their famous melons.  You can sometimes find Hami melons in stores to this day. Regarding the melons and other such fruits and vegetables—the area of Hami is a fairly arid land.  Hami does get some water from the Tianshan mountains, but in order to have enough for agriculture they instituted a system that is still found today in Hami, Turpan, and other parts of the world, including arid parts of northwest India and Pakistan through the middle east to north Africa.  It is called a Karez, or in Persian it is called a Qanat, and it is thought to have originated in ancient Persia around the first millennium BCE and spread out through the various trade routes. The idea is to basically create underground aqueducts to take water from one place to another.  This would keep them out of the heat and dry air above ground to allow them to continue to flow without losing too much to evaporation.  To do that, however, required manually digging tunnels for the water.  This would be done by sinking wells at regular intervals and connecting the wells to each other with tunnels.  But it wasn't enough for the tunnels to be connected, they had to also slope slightly downwards, but not too much.  You want enough flow to keep the water clear, but if it flows too quickly or creates waves, the water might erode the underground channels in ways that could cause problems, such as a collapse.  All in all, they are pretty amazing feats of engineering and they can carry water a great distance.  Many are under 5 km, but some are around 70 km long. These karez would have been the lifelines of many towns, creating a reliable oasis in the desert.  Rivers were great, but the flow could vary from floods to a mere trickle, and the karez system provided relatively constant flow.  This allowed for agriculture even in the dry areas of the Western Regions, which helped facilitate the various kingdoms that grew up in this otherwise inhospitable region. While eating his melons in Hami and chatting it up with his fellow eastern priests, Yiwu was visited by an envoy from the neighboring kingdom of Gaochang.  Now Hami, or Yiwu, sits at the eastern edge of the Turpan-Hami basin, aka the Turfan depression, a large desert, much of which is actually so low that it is below sea level.  In fact, the basin includes the lowest exposed point in the area of modern China at Ayding Lake, which is 158 meters below sea level.  From Yiwu to Gaochang, you would follow the edge of the mountains west, to an area near a small break in the mountain range.  Follow that break northwest, and you would find yourself at the city of Urumqi, the current capital of the Xinjiang Autonomous Region in modern China. Xinjiang covers much of the area known in ancient times as the “Western Regions” that remains within the modern political boundaries of the PRC. The envoy from Gaochang heard about Xuanzang, and reported back to his lord, King Qu Wentai, who immediately sent a retinue out to escort the Buddhist monk across the desert to his city.  They included multiple horses for Xuanzang, so he could change at regular intervals.  His own horse was left behind, to be brought along later.   After six days on the road, they came to the city of Paili, and since the sun had already set, Xuanzang asked to stop for the night, but the escorts urged him on to the Royal City, which was not much farther on. And so he arrived around midnight, which means he likely couldn't immediately take in the size of the city.  Gaochang was an immense walled city, and even today, ruined as it is, the site of it is quite formidable, and it is so well preserved it is considered a UNESCO world heritage site.  Perhaps since wood was relatively scarce, this is why so much of the construction was made of brick and earthworks.  Fortunately, this means that many of the walls remain, even today—eroded and crumbling, but still towering over those who come to see them.  In places they have also been rebuilt or reinforced.  And in a few, very rare instances, you can still see some of the traces of paint that would have once been so prevalent throughout a city like this.  At this time in history, Gaochang, also known as Karakhoja, was under the command of the Qu family.  The population was largely Han Chinese, and it had often been overseen or at least influenced by kingdoms in the Yellow River basin.  But it was also the home of Turks, Sogdian merchants, local Turfanians, and more.  It was even called “Chinatown” by the Sogdians, and yet attempts to further sinicize the region had provoked a coup only a couple of decades earlier.  Even though he showed up in the middle of the night, Xuanzang is said to have been welcomed by the ruler of Gaochang, Qu Wentai, as he entered the city.  Perhaps this is why the escorts had been pushing so hard—the King himself was awake and waiting for Xuanzang to make an appearance.  The King and his attendants came out with candles in their hands, and they were ushered behind curtains in a multi-storey pavilion.  The king apparently grilled him through the night, asking about his journey until it was almost daybreak, at which point Xuanzang requested rest.  He was finally shown to a bedroom that had been prepared for him and allowed to sleep. The next day king assembled the leading monks of his kingdom before his guest.  These included the monks Tuan Fashi and Wang Fashi.  Tuan Fashi had studied in Chang'an for many years, and he knew his Buddhist scholarship. And Wang Fashi was a superintendent, and it was his duty to look after Xuanzang and butter him up with the hope that he might stay and provide the king with the prestige of having such an esteemed monk.  They put him up at a monastery next to the royal palace—the “daochang”, aka “dojo” in Japanese, which would be a whole different diversion. Ding Wang suggested that this might be the same as the Chongfu Monastery mentioned in a colophon on a 7th century copy of the Sutra of Perfection of Wisdom for Benevolent Kings. It was found by a German expedition at a site in the Turfan basin in the early 20th century, and now sits in the possession of Shitenno-ji, in Osaka—rather appropriate given that Shitenno-ji was around at the same time all of this was happening.  The colophon is attributed to a “Xuanjue”, and a “Xuanjue” from Gaochang, in the Turpan basin, was associated with helping Xuanzang in his later years.  Perhaps this Xuanjue first met Xuanzang during this first trip to Gaochang. Qu Wentai tried his best to dissuade Xuanzang from continuing on.  This may be simple platitudes from his biographers, but it also may have been genuine.  Having a learned foreign monk from the Tang dynasty staying at the palace monastery would likely have added to Qu Wentai's prestige by association, and it would have potentially brought more individuals to the city of Gaochang. Speaking of which, all of this first part of the journey—up to Gaochang—comes primarily from Xuanzang's biography by the monk Huili.  Xuanzang's own “Records of the Western Regions” didn't include much on it, probably because by the time that he returned to the Tang empire, Tang Taizong had annexed Yiwu and Gaochang, so all those were now considered part of the empire, rather than foreign regions to the West. After staying a month at Gaochang, Xuanzang decided it was time to continue his journey.  Disappointed though Qu Wentai may have been that his guest would be leaving, he nonetheless outfitted him handsomely.  He provided goods, including coins, as well as 24 letters to the 24 countries that he would pass along the road, adding a roll of silk to each as a sign that they came from the King of Gaochang.  He also gave him food, a small retinue, and horses to help carry everything.  Letters of introduction would have been important across the Silk Road.  There was, after all, no way to contact someone ahead of time, unless you sent runners. Merchant communities, in particular, would often be connected across long distances through regular caravans, which carried letters to their relatives, facilitating communication across vast distances.  Merchants who were bringing in a caravan of goods would know that there was a friendly community waiting to help them when they arrived, and would likely even have an idea of what was happening and what to bring. For someone traveling alone, however, having a letter of introduction would have been important, as they didn't necessarily have access to those communities by themselves.  The letters would provide introduction and let people know who you were and may even ask for assistance on your behalf.  It may seem a small thing, but it was the kind of gesture that was likely a great help to a traveler like Xuanzang.  Remember, he was not on an official mission from the Tang court—almost expressly the opposite, as he had not been given permission to leave.  So he wouldn't have had anything identifying him, and after Gaochang he likely couldn't count on being able to communicate with his native tongue. And so he was sent on his way.  As he left the city of Gaochang, the king and others accompanied Xuanzang about 10 li, or about 3 or 4 miles, outside of the city.  As they watched him head off, who could have known if he would complete his quest?  Or would he just end up another ghost in the desert? Next episode, we'll pick up Xuanzang's story as he strikes out for Agni and beyond.  Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

This episode we are taking a trip down the Silk Road--or perhaps even the Spice Road--as we investigate references in this reign to individuals from "Tukara" who seem to have arrived in Yamato and stayed for a while. For photos and more, see our podcast webpage:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-119 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  This is episode 119: The Question of “Tukara”   Traveling upon the ocean was never exactly safe.  Squalls and storms could arise at any time, and there was always a chance that high winds and high waves could capsize a vessel.  Most people who found themselves at the mercy of the ocean could do little but hold on and hope that they could ride out whatever adverse conditions they met with.  Many ships were lost without any explanation or understanding of what happened to them.  They simply left the port and never came back home. And so when the people saw the boat pulling up on the shores of Himuka, on the island of Tsukushi, they no doubt empathized with the voyagers' plight.  The crew looked bedraggled, and their clothing was unfamiliar.  There were both men and women, and this didn't look like your average fishing party.  If anything was clear it was this:  These folk weren't from around here. The locals brought out water and food.  Meanwhile, runners were sent with a message:  foreigners had arrived from a distant place.  They then waited to see what the government was going to do.     We are still in the second reign of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tenno.  Last episode we talked about the palaces constructed in Asuka, as well as some of the stone works that have been found from the period, and which appear to be referenced in the Nihon Shoki—at least tangentially.   The episodes before that, we looked at the expeditions the court sent to the far north of Honshu and even past Honshu to Hokkaido. This episode we'll again be looking past the main islands of the archipelago to lands beyond.  Specifically, we are going to focus on particularly intriguing references to people from a place called “Tukara”.  We'll talk about some of the ideas about where that might be, even if they're a bit  far-fetched. That's because Tukara touches on the state of the larger world that Yamato was a part of, given its situation on the far eastern edge of what we know today as the Silk Road.  And is this just an excuse for me to take a detour into some of the more interesting things going on outside the archipelago?  No comment. The first mention of a man from Tukara actually comes at the end of the reign of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou.  We are told that in the fourth month of 654 two men and two women of “Tukara” and one woman of “Sha'e” were driven by a storm to Hiuga.  Then, three years later, the story apparently picks up again, though possibly referring to a different group of people.  On the 3rd day of the 7th month of 657, so during the second reign of Takara Hime, we now hear about two men and four women of the Land of Tukara—no mention of Sha'e—who drifted to Tsukushi, aka Kyushu.  The Chronicles mention that these wayfarers first drifted to the island of Amami, and we'll talk about that in a bit, but let's get these puzzle pieces on the table, first.  After those six people show up, the court sent for them by post-horse.  They must have arrived by the 15th of that same month, because we are told that a model of Mt. Sumi was erected and they—the people from Tukara—were entertained, although there is another account that says they were from “Tora”. The next mention is the 10th day of the 3rd month of 659, when a Man of Tukara and his wife, again woman of Sha'e, arrived.  Then, on the 16th day of the 7th month of 660, we are told that the man of Tukara, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna, desired to return home and asked for an escort.  He planned to pay his respects at the Great Country, i.e. the Tang court, and so he left his wife behind, taking tens of men with him. All of these entries might refer to people regularly reaching Yamato from the south, from a place called “Tukara”.  Alternately, this is a single event whose story has gotten distributed over several years, as we've seen happen before with the Chronicles.  .  One of the oddities of these entries is that the terms used are not consistent.  “Tukara” is spelled at least two different ways, suggesting that it wasn't a common placename like Silla or Baekje, or even the Mishihase.  That does seem to suggest that the Chronicles were phonetically trying to find kanji, or the Sinitic characters, to match with the name they were hearing.   I would also note that “Tukara” is given the status of a “kuni”—a land, country, or state—while “sha'e”, where some of the women are said to come from, is just that, “Sha'e”. As for the name of at least one person from Tokara, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna, that certainly sounds like someone trying to fit a non-Japanese name into the orthography of the time.  “Tatsuna” seems plausibly Japanese, but “Kenzuhashi” doesn't fit quite as well into the naming structures we've seen to this point. The location of “Tukara” and “Sha'e” are not clear in any way, and as such there has been a lot of speculation about them.  While today there are placenames that fit those characters, whether or not these were the places being referenced at the time is hard to say. I'll actually start with “Sha'e”, which Aston translates as Shravasti, the capital of the ancient Indian kingdom of Kosala, in modern Uttar Pradesh.  It is also where the Buddha, Siddartha Gautama, is said to have lived most of his life after his enlightenment.  In Japanese this is “Sha'e-jou”, and like many Buddhist terms it likely comes through Sanskrit to Middle Chinese to Japanese.  One—or possibly two—women from Shravasti making the journey to Yamato in the company of a man (or men) from Tukara seems quite the feat.  But then, where is “Tukara”? Well, we have at least three possible locations that I've seen bandied about.  I'll address them from the most distant to the closest option.  These three options were Tokharistan, Dvaravati, and the Tokara islands. We'll start with Tokharistan on the far end of the Silk Road.  And to start, let's define what that “Silk Road” means.  We've talked in past episodes about the “Western Regions”, past the Han-controlled territories of the Yellow River.   The ancient Tang capital of Chang'an was built near to the home of the Qin dynasty, and even today you can go and see both the Tang tombs and the tomb of Qin Shihuangdi and his terracotta warriors, all within a short distance of Xi'an, the modern city built on the site of Chang'an.  That city sits on a tributary of the Yellow River, but the main branch turns north around the border of modern Henan and the similarly sounding provinces of Shanxi and Shaanxi.  Following it upstream, the river heads north into modern Mongolia, turns west, and then heads south again, creating what is known as the Ordos loop.  Inside is the Ordos plateau, also known as the Ordos Basin.  Continuing to follow the Yellow river south, on the western edge of the Ordos, you travel through Ningxia and Gansu—home of the Hexi, or Gansu, Corridor.  That route eventually takes to Yumenguan, the Jade Gate, and Dunhuang.  From there roads head north or south along the edge of the Taklamakan desert in the Tarim basin.  The southern route travels along the edge of the Tibetan plateau, while the northern route traversed various oasis cities through Turpan, Kucha, to the city of Kashgar.  Both routes made their way across the Pamirs and the Hindu Kush into South Asia. We've brought up the Tarim Basin and the Silk Road a few times.  This is the path that Buddhism appears to have taken to get to the Yellow River Basin and eventually to the Korean Peninsula and eastward to the Japanese archipelago.  But I want to go a bit more into detail on things here, as there is an interesting side note about “Tukara” that I personally find rather fascinating, and thought this would be a fun time to share. Back in Episode 79 we talked about how the Tarim basin used to be the home to a vast inland sea, which was fed by the meltwater from the Tianshan and Kunlun mountains.  This sea eventually dwindled, though it was still large enough to be known to the Tang as the Puchang Sea.  Today it has largely dried up, and it is mostly just the salt marshes of Lop Nur that remain.  Evidence for this larger sea, however, can be observed in some of the burials found around the Tarim basin.  These burials include the use of boat-shaped structures—a rather curious feature to be found out in the middle of the desert. And it is the desert that was left behind as the waters receded that is key to much of what we know about life in the Tarim basin, as it has proven to be quite excellent at preserving organic material.  This includes bodies, which dried out and naturally turned into mummies, including not only the wool clothing they were wearing, but also features such as hair and even decoration. These “Tarim mummies”, as they have been collectively called, date from as early as 2100 BCE all the way up through the period of time we're currently talking about, and have been found in several desert sites: Xiaohe, the earliest yet discovered; Loulan, near Lop Nur on the east of the Tarim Basin, dating from around 1800 BCE; Cherchen, on the southern edge of the Tarim Basin, dating from roughly 1000 BCE; and too many others to go into in huge detail. The intriguing thing about these burials is that  many of them don't have features typically associated with people of ethnic Han—which is to say traditional Chinese—ancestry, nor do they necessarily have the features associated with the Xiongnu and other steppe nomads.  In addition they have colorful clothing  made from wool and leather, with vivid designs.  Some bodies near Hami, just east of the basin, were reported to have blonde to light brown hair, and their cloth showed radically different patterns from that found at Cherchen and Loulan, with patterns that could reasonably be compared with the plaids now common in places like Scotland and Ireland, and previously found in the Hallstadt salt mine in Central Europe from around 3500 BCE, from which it is thought the Celtic people may have originated. At the same time that people—largely Westerners— were studying these mummies, another discovery in the Tarim basin was also making waves.  This was the discovery of a brand new language.  Actually, it was two languages—or possibly two dialects of a language—in many manuscripts, preserved in Kucha and Turpan.  Once again, the dry desert conditions proved invaluable to maintain these manuscripts, which date from between the late 4th or early 5th century to the 8th century.  They are written with a Brahmic script, similar to that used for Sanskrit, which appears in the Tarim Basin l by about the 2nd century, and we were able to translate them because many of the texts were copies of Buddhist scripture, which greatly helped scholars in deciphering the languages.  These two languages were fascinating because they represented an as-yet undiscovered branch of the Indo-European language family.  Furthermore, when compared to other Indo-European languages, they did not show nearly as much similarity with their neighbors as with languages on the far western end of the Indo-European language family.  That is to say they were thought to be closer to Celtic and Italic languages than something like Indo-Iranian.  And now for a quick diversion within the diversion:  “Centum” and “Satem” are general divisions of the Indo-European language families that was once thought to indicate a geographic divide in the languages.  At its most basic, as Indo-European words changed over time, a labiovelar sound, something like “kw”,  tended to evolve in one of two ways.  In the Celtic and Italic languages, the “kw” went to a hard “k” sound, as represented in the classical pronunciation of the Latin word for 100:  Centum.  That same word, in the Avestan language—of the Indo-Iranian tree—is pronounced as “Satem”, with an “S” sound.  So, you can look at Indo-European languages and divide them generally into “centum” languages, which preserve the hard “k”, or “Satem” languages that preserve the S. With me so far? Getting back to these two newly-found languages in the Tarim Basin, the weird thing is that they were “Centum” languages. Most Centum languages are from pretty far away, though: they are generally found in western Europe or around the Mediterranean, as opposed to the Satem languages, such as Indo-Aryan, Iranian, Armernian, or even Baltic Slavic languages, which are much closer to the Tarim Basin.  So if the theory were true that the “Centum” family of Indo-European languages developed in the West and “Satem” languages developed in the East, then that would seem to indicate that a group of a “Centum” speaking people must have migrated eastward, through the various Satem speaking people, and settled in the Tarim Basin many thousands of years ago. And what evidence do we have of people who look very different from the modern population, living in the Tarim Basin area long before, and wearing clothing similar to what we associated with the progenitors of the Celts?  For many, it seemed to be somewhat obvious, if still incredible, that the speakers of this language were likely the descendants of the mummies who, in the terminology of the time, had been identified as being of Caucasoid ancestry.  A theory developed that these people were an offshoot of a group called the Yamnaya culture, which may have arisen around modern Ukraine as an admixture between the European Hunter Gatherers and the Caucasian Hunter Gatherers, around 3300-2600 BCE.  This was challenged in 2021 when a genetic study was performed on some of the mummies in the Tarim basin, as well as several from the Dzungarian basin, to the northeast.  That study suggested that the people of the Dzungarian basin had genetic ties to the people of the Afanasievo people, from Southern Siberia.  The Afanasievo people are connected to the Yamnayan culture. It should be noted that there has long been a fascination in Western anthropology and related sciences with racial identification—and often not in a healthy way.  As you may recall, the Ainu were identified as “Caucasoid” by some people largely because of things like the men's beards and lighter colored hair, which differ greatly from a large part of the Japanese population.  However, that claim has been repeatedly refuted and debunked. And similarly, the truth is, none of these Tarim mummy burials were in a period of written anything, so we can't conclusively associated them with these fascinating Indo-European languages.  There are thousands of years between the various burials and the manuscripts. These people  left no notes stashed in pockets that give us their life story.   And Language is not Genetics is not Culture.  Any group may adopt a given language for a variety of reasons.  .  Still, given what we know, it is possible that the ancient people of the Tarim basin spoke some form of “Proto-Kuchean”, but it is just as likely that this language was brought in by people from Dzungaria at some point. So why does all this matter to us?  Well, remember how we were talking about someone from Tukara?  The Kuchean language, at least, is referred to in an ancient Turkic source as belonging to “Twgry”, which led several scholars to draw a link between this and the kingdom and people called Tukara and the Tokharoi.  This leads us on another bit of a chase through history. Now if you recall, back in Episode 79, we talked about Zhang Qian.  In 128 BCE, he attempted to cross the Silk Road through the territory of the Xiongnu on a mission for the Han court.  Some fifty years earlier, the Xiongnu had defeated the Yuezhi.  They held territory in the oasis towns along the north of the Taklamakan dessert, from about the Turpan basin west to the Pamirs. The Xiongnu were causing problems for the Han, who thought that if they could contact the remaining Yuezhi they could make common cause with them and harass the Xiongnu from both sides.  Zhang Qian's story is quite remarkable: he started out with an escort of some 99 men and a translator.  Unfortunately, he was captured and enslaved by the Xiongnu during his journey, and he is even said to have had a wife and fathered a child.  He remained a captive for thirteen years, but nonetheless, he was able to escape with his family and he made it to the Great Yuezhi on the far side of the Pamirs, but apparently the Yuezhi weren't interested in a treaty against the Xiongnu.  The Pamirs were apparently enough of a barrier and they were thriving in their new land.  And so Zhang Qian crossed back again through Xiongnu territory, this time taking the southern route around the Tarim basin.  He was still captured by the Xiongnu, who spared his life.  He escaped, again, two years later, returning to the Han court.  Of the original 100 explorers, only two returned: Zhang Qian and his translator.  While he hadn't obtained an alliance, he was able to detail the cultures of the area of the Yuezhi. Many feel that the Kushan Empire, which is generally said to have existed from about 30 to 375 CE,was formed from the Kushana people who were part of the Yuezhi who fled the Xiongnu. In other words, they were originally from further north, around the Tarim Basin, and had been chased out and settled down in regions that included Bactria (as in the Bactrian camel).  Zhang Qian describes reaching the Dayuan Kingdom in the Ferghana valley, then traveling south to an area that was the home of the Great Yuezhi or Da Yuezhi.  And after the Kushan empire fell, we know there was a state in the upper regions of the Oxus river, centered on the city of Balkh, in the former territory of the Kushan empire. known as “Tokara”.  Geographically, this matches up how Zhang Qian described the home of the Da Yuezhi.  Furthermore, some scholars reconstruct the reading of the Sinic characters used for “Yuezhi” as originally having an optional reading of something like “Togwar”, but that is certainly not the most common reconstructed reading of those characters.  Greek sources describe this area as the home of the Tokharoi, or the Tokaran People.  The term “Tukhara” is also found in Sanskrit, and this kingdom  was also said to have sent ambassadors to the Southern Liang and Tang dynasties. We aren't exactly certain of where these Tokharan people came from, but as we've just described, there's a prevailing theory that they were the remnants of the Yuezhi and Kushana people originally from the Tarim Basin.  We know that in the 6th century they came under the rule of the Gokturk Khaganate, which once spanned from the Liao river basin to the Black Sea.  In the 7th and 8th centuries they came under the rule of the Tang Empire, where they were known by very similar characters as those used to write “Tukara” in the Nihon Shoki.  On top of this, we see Tokharans traveling the Silk Road, all the way to the Tang court.  Furthermore, Tokharans that settled in Chang'an took the surname “Zhi” from the ethnonym “Yuezhi”, seemingly laying claim to and giving validation to the identity used back in the Han dynasty.   So, we have a Turkic record describing the Kuchean people (as in, from Kucha in the Tarim Basin) as “Twgry”, and we have a kingdom in Bactria called Tokara and populated (according to the Greeks) by people called Tokharoi.  You can see how this one term has been a fascinating rabbit hole in the study of the Silk Roads and their history.  And some scholars understandably suggested that perhaps the Indo-European languags found in Kucha and Turpan  were actually related to this “Tokhara” – and therefore  should be called “Tocharian”, specifically Tocharian A (Kuchean) or Tocharian B (Turfanian). The problem is that if the Tokharans were speaking “Tocharian” then you wouldn't expect to just see it at Kucha and Turpan, which are about the middle of the road between Tokhara and the Tang dynasty, and which had long been under Gokturk rule.  You would also expect to see it in the areas of Bactria associated with Tokhara.  However, that isn't what we see.  Instead, we see that Bactria was the home of local Bactrian language—an Eastern Iranian language, which, though it is part of the Indo European language family, it is not closely related to Tocharian as far as we can tell. It is possible that the people of Kucha referred to themselves as something similar to “Twgry”, or “Tochari”, but we should also remember that comes from a Turkic source, and it could have been an exonym not related to what they called themselves.  I should also note that language is not people.  It is also possible that a particular ethnonym was maintained separately by two groups that may have been connected politically but which came to speak different languages for whatever reason.   There could be a connection between the names, or it could even be that the same or similar exonym was used for different groups. So, that was a lot and a bit of a ramble, but a lot of things that I find interesting—even if they aren't as connected as they may appear.  We have the Tarim mummies, which are, today, held at a museum in modern Urumqi.  Whether they had any connection with Europe or not, they remain a fascinating study for the wealth of material items found in and around the Tarim basin and similar locations.  And then there is the saga of the Tocharian languages—or perhaps more appropriately the Kuchean-Turfanian languages: Indo-European languages that seem to be well outside of where we would expect to find them. Finally, just past the Pamirs, we get to the land of Tokhara or Tokharistan.  Even without anything else, we know that they had contact with the court.  Perhaps our castaways were from this land?  The name is certainly similar to what we see in the Nihon Shoki, using some of the same characters. All in all, art and other information suggest that the area of the Tarim basin and the Silk Road in general were quite cosmopolitan, with many different people from different regions of the world.  Bactria retained Hellenic influences ever since the conquests of Alexander of Macedonia, aka Alexander the Great, and Sogdian and Persian traders regularly brought their caravans through the region to trade.  And once the Tang dynasty controlled all of the routes, that just made travel that much easier, and many people traveled back and forth. So from that perspective, it is possible that one or more people from Tukhara may have made the crossing from their home all the way to the Tang court, but if they did so, the question still remains: why would they be in a boat? Utilizing overland routes, they would have hit Chang'an or Louyang, the dual capitals of the Tang empire, well before they hit the ocean.  However, the Nihon Shoki says that these voyagers first came ashore at Amami and then later says that they were trying to get to the Tang court. Now there was another “Silk Road” that isn't as often mentioned: the sea route, following the coast of south Asia, around through the Malacca strait and north along the Asian coast.  This route is sometimes viewed more in terms of the “spice” road If these voyagers set out to get to the Tang court by boat, they would have to have traveled south to the Indian Ocean—possibly traveling through Shravasti or Sha'e, depending on the route they chose to take—and then around the Malacca strait—unless they made it on foot all the way to Southeast Asia.  And then they would have taken a boat up the coast. Why do that instead of taking the overland route?  They could likely have traveled directly to the Tang court over the overland silk road.  Even the from Southeast Asia could have traveled up through Yunnan and made their way to the Tang court that way.  In fact, Zhang Qian had wondered something similar when he made it to the site of the new home of the Yuezhi, in Bactria.  Even then, in the 2nd century, he saw products in the marketplace that he identified as coming from around Szechuan.  That would mean south of the Han dynasty, and he couldn't figure out how those trade routes might exist and they weren't already known to the court.  Merchants would have had to traverse the dangerous mountains if they wanted to avoid being caught by the Xiongnu, who controlled the entire region. After returning to the Han court, Zhang Qian actually went out on another expedition to the south, trying to find the southern trade routes, but apparently was not able to do so.  That said, we do see, in later centuries, the trade routes open up between the area of the Sichuan basin and South Asia.  We also see the migrations of people further south, and there may have even been some Roman merchants who traveled up this route to find their way to the Han court, though those accounts are not without their own controversy. In either case, whether by land or sea, these trade routes were not always open.  In some cases, seasonal weather, such as monsoons, might dictate movement back and forth, while political realities were also a factor.  Still, it is worth remembering that even though most people were largely concerned with affairs in their own backyard, the world was still more connected than people give it credit for.  Tang dynasty pottery made its way to the east coast of Africa, and ostriches were brought all the way to Chang'an. As for the travelers from Tukhara and why they would take this long and very round-about method of travel, it is possible that they were just explorers, seeking new routes, or even on some kind of pilgrimage.  Either way, they would have been way off course. But if they did pass through Southeast Asia, that would match up with another theory about what “Tukara” meant: that it actually refers to the Dvaravati kingdom in what is now modern Thailand.  The Dvaravati Kingdom was a Mon political entity that rose up around the 6th century.  It even sent embassies to the Sui and Tang courts.  This is even before the temple complexes in Siem Reap, such as Preah Ko and the more famous Angkor Wat.  And it was during this time that the ethnic Tai people are thought to have started migrating south from Yunnan, possibly due to pressures from the expanding Sui and Tang empires.  Today, most of what remains of the Dvaravati kingdom are the ruins of ancient stone temples, showing a heavy Indic influence, and even early Buddhist practices as well.  “Dvaravati” may not actually be the name of the kingdom but it comes from an inscription on a coin found from about that time.  The Chinese refer to it as  “To-lo-po-ti” in contemporary records.  It may not even have been a kingdom, but  more of a confederation of city-states—it is hard to piece everything together.  That it was well connected, though, is clear from the archaeological record.  In Dvaravati sites, we see coins from as far as Rome, and we even have a lamp found in modern Pong Tuk that appears to match similar examples from the Byzantine Empire in the 6th century.  Note that this doesn't mean it arrived in the 6th century—similarly with the coins—but the Dvaravati state lasted until the 12th century. If that was the case, perhaps there were some women from a place called “Shravasti” or similar, especially given the Indic influence in the region. Now, given the location of the Dvaravati, it wouldn't be so farfetched to think that someone might sail up from the Gulf of Thailand and end up off-course, though it does mean sailing up the entire Ryukyuan chain or really running off course and finding yourself adrift on the East China sea.  And if they were headed to the Tang court, perhaps they did have translators or knew Chinese, since Yamato was unlikely to know the Mon language of Dvaravati and people from Dvaravati probably wouldn't know the Japonic language.  Unless, perhaps, they were communicating through Buddhist priests via Sanskrit. We've now heard two possibilities for Tukara, both pretty far afield: the region of Tokara in Bactria, and the Dvaravati kingdom in Southeast Asia.  That said, the third and simplest explanation—and the one favored by Aston in his translation of the Nihon Shoki—is that Tukara is actually referring to a place in the Ryukyu island chain.  Specifically, there is a “Tokara” archipelago, which spans between Yakushima and Amami-Oshima.  This is part of the Nansei islands, and the closest part of the Ryukyuan island chain to the main Japanese archipelago.  This is the most likely theory, and could account for the entry talking about Amami.  It is easy to see how sailors could end up adrift, too far north, and come to shore in Hyuga, aka Himuka, on the east side of Kyushu.  It certainly would make more sense for them to be from this area of the Ryukyuan archipelago than from anywhere else.  From Yakushima to Amami-Oshima is the closest part of the island chain to Kyushu, and as we see in the entry from the Shoku Nihongi, those three places seem to have been connected as being near to Japan.  So what was going on down there, anyway? Well, first off, let's remember that the Ryukyuan archipelago is not just the island of Okinawa, but a series of islands that go from Kyushu all the way to the island of Taiwan.  Geographically speaking, they are all part of the same volcanic ridge extending southward.  The size of the islands and their distance from each other does vary, however, creating some natural barriers in the form of large stretches of open water, which have shaped how various groups developed on the islands. Humans came to the islands around the same time they were reaching the Japanese mainland.  In fact, some of our only early skeletal remains for early humans in Japan actually come from either the Ryukyuan peninsula in the south or around Hokkaido to the north, and that has to do with the acidity of the soil in much of mainland Japan. Based on genetic studies, we know that at least two groups appear to have inhabited the islands from early times.  One group appears to be related to the Jomon people of Japan, while the other appears to be more related to the indigenous people of Taiwan, who, themselves, appear to have been the ancestors of many Austronesian people.  Just as some groups followed islands to the south of Taiwan, some appear to have headed north.  However, they only made it so far.  As far as I know there is no evidence they made it past Miyakoshima, the northernmost island in the Sakishima islands.  Miyako island is separated from the next large island, Okinawa, by a large strait, known as the Miyako Strait, though sometimes called the Kerama gap in English.  It is a 250km wide stretch of open ocean, which is quite the distance for anyone to travel, even for Austronesian people of Taiwan, who had likely not developed the extraordinary navigational technologies that the people who would become the Pacific Islanders would discover. People on the Ryukyu island chain appear to have been in contact with the people of the Japanese archipelago since at least the Jomon period, and some of the material artifacts demonstrate a cultural connection.  That was likely impacted by the Akahoya eruption, about 3500 years ago, and then re-established at a later date.  We certainly see sea shells and corals trade to the people of the Japanese islands from fairly early on. Unlike the people on the Japanese archipelago, the people of the Ryukyuan archipelago did not really adopt the Yayoi and later Kofun culture.  They weren't building large, mounded tombs, and they retained the character of a hunter-gatherer society, rather than transitioning to a largely agricultural way of life.  The pottery does change in parts of Okinawa, which makes sense given the connections between the regions.  Unfortunately, there is a lot we don't know about life in the islands around this time.  We don't exactly have written records, other than things like the entries in the Nihon Shoki, and those are hardly the most detailed of accounts.  In the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, we see people from Yakushima, which is, along with Tanegashima, one of the largest islands at the northern end of the Ryukyu chain, just before you hit Kagoshima and the Osumi peninsula on the southern tip of Kyushu.  The islands past that would be the Tokara islands, until you hit the large island of Amami. So you can see how it would make sense that the people from “Tokara” would make sense to be from the area between Yakushima and Amami, and in many ways this explanation seems too good to be true.  There are a only a few things that make this a bit peculiar. First, this doesn't really explain the woman from “Sha'e” in any compelling way that I can see.  Second, the name, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna doesn't seem to fit with what we generally know about early Japonic names, and the modern Ryukyuan language certainly is a Japonic language, but there are still plenty of possible explanations.  There is also the connection of Tokara with “Tokan”, which is mentioned in an entry in 699 in the Shoku Nihongi, the Chronicle that follows on, quite literally to the Nihon Shoki.  Why would they call it “Tokan” instead of “Tokara” so soon after?  Also, why would these voyagers go back to their country by way of the Tang court?  Unless, of course, that is where they were headed in the first place.  In which case, did the Man from Tukara intentionally leave his wife in Yamato, or was she something of a hostage while they continued on their mission?   And so those are the theories.  The man from “Tukara” could be from Tokhara, or Tokharistan, at the far end of the Silk Road.  Or it could have been referring to the Dvaravati Kingdom, in modern Thailand.  Still, in the end, Occam's razor suggests that the simplest answer is that these were actually individuals from the Tokara islands in the Ryukyuan archipelago.  It is possible that they were from Amami, not that they drifted there.  More likely, a group from Amami drifted ashore in Kyushu as they were trying to find a route to the Tang court, as they claimed.  Instead they found themselves taking a detour to the court of Yamato, instead. And we could have stuck with that story, but I thought that maybe, just maybe, this would be a good time to reflect once again on how connected everything was.  Because even if they weren't from Dvaravati, that Kingdom was still trading with Rome and with the Tang.  And the Tang controlled the majority of the overland silk road through the Tarim basin.  We even know that someone from Tukhara made it to Chang'an, because they were mentioned on a stele that talked about an Asian sect of Christianity, the “Shining Religion”, that was praised and allowed to set up shop in the Tang capital, along with Persian Manicheans and Zoroastrians.  Regardless of where these specific people may have been from, the world was clearly growing only more connected, and prospering, as well. Next episode we'll continue to look at how things were faring between the archipelago and the continent. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

This is the Catchup on 3 Things by The Indian Express and I'm Flora Swain.Today is the 8th of January and here are today's headlines.AAP Leaders Protest Near PM's Residence, Demand Media Tour of HouseAAP leaders Saurabh Bharadwaj and Sanjay Singh staged a protest near the Prime Minister's official residence at 7 Lok Kalyan Marg, Delhi, but were blocked by security forces. Bharadwaj criticized the BJP-controlled police, questioning why the public is prevented from viewing the PM's residence. The leaders also questioned the barricading at the 6 Flagstaff bungalow and demanded that the media be allowed a tour amid allegations of extravagant modifications made during former CM Arvind Kejriwal's tenure.Priyanka Gandhi Calls Ramesh Bidhuri's Remarks 'Ridiculous'Congress leader Priyanka Gandhi Vadra dismissed former BJP MP Ramesh Bidhuri's controversial remark about her cheeks as “ridiculous,” emphasizing that important issues should dominate the Delhi assembly polls. Responding to the jibe, Priyanka mocked BJP candidate from Kalkaji, Ramesh Bidhuri, by questioning his own appearance. She stated that such irrelevant matters should not be discussed and stressed the need to focus on serious political issues instead of personal attacks ahead of the upcoming elections.Dr. V. Narayanan Appointed New ISRO ChairmanDr. V. Narayanan has been appointed as the new chairman of the Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO), succeeding S. Somanath. Narayanan, known for his pivotal role in advancing India's cryogenic technology, was instrumental in diagnosing and recommending solutions to the Chandrayaan-2 failure, contributing to Chandrayaan-3's successful landing. Having spent much of his career at the Liquid Propulsion Systems Centre (LPSC) in Thiruvananthapuram, Narayanan will now lead ISRO into its next phase of space exploration.EU Rejects Trump's Claims Over Greenland, Defends SovereigntyFrench Foreign Minister Jean-Noel Barrot responded to President-elect Donald Trump's comments about acquiring Greenland, stating that the European Union would not tolerate any nation threatening its sovereign borders. Barrot expressed doubt that the U.S. would attempt to take control of Greenland, an autonomous territory of Denmark. He reinforced the EU's position, declaring it would defend its sovereignty, and highlighted Europe's strength and unity in maintaining its territorial integrity against external threats.Magnitude 5.5 Earthquake Strikes China's Qinghai ProvinceA magnitude 5.5 earthquake hit China's Qinghai province on Wednesday, with its epicenter located near the source of the Yellow River. This follows a series of seismic events in the Qinghai-Tibetan Plateau, including a deadly 6.8 magnitude earthquake in Tibet and a smaller 3.1 magnitude tremor in Sichuan. The earthquake struck Madoi county in Golog prefecture at a depth of 14 km (8.7 miles), according to the China Earthquake Networks Center (CENC), causing concern over the region's seismic instability.This was the Catch Up on 3 Things by the Indian Express.

Last time we spoke about the complicated story of Xinjiang. Xinjiang, though part of China since the Han dynasty, has a distinct cultural and geographic identity aligned more with Central Asia than China's east. Its remote, mountainous landscapes divide its regions and isolate its ethnic groups, which include Uyghurs, Kazakhs, and Hui Muslims. Yang Zengxin, Xinjiang's Republican governor, ruled with shrewd, divisive tactics, maintaining peace by balancing loyalties but alienating many. His rule ended in 1928, when an ambitious subordinate, Fan Yaonan, assassinated him, marking a turning point. Yang attended a banquet hosted by Fan, where disguised soldiers fired on him, mortally wounding him. Fan seized power but was soon defeated and executed by Jin, who succeeded Yang as ruler of Xinjiang. Jin enforced strict policies, favoring Han Chinese officials and worsening the economy. He raised taxes, restricted Muslim customs, and monopolized industries. His annexation of the Kumul Khanate in 1931 incited unrest among the local Uyghurs, setting the stage for rebellion.   #132 The Beginning of the Kumul Rebellion 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 last we left off, things had reached a boiling point in Kumul. The explosion at Kumul would begin mostly as a result of a religious and cultural slight against the Muslim population both Turkic speaking and Tungan. They became offended and banded together against the Chinese officials. As a result of the new administration and annexation of the Kumul Khanate, a young Han named Chang Mu from Gansu, was appointed tax collector and chief of police over the small village of Xiaopu, lying due north of Kumul. According to the Nanjing official Wu Aichen “this Chang Mu was a 'wastrel' whose conduct soon became a public scandal”. In early 1931, Chang Mu met a pretty Turkic Muslim girl in Xiaopu and tried to force her father, a Uyghur called Salih, to give him her hand in marriage. Now for those unaware shari law specifically prohibits marriage between Muslim women and men of other religions. What followed is described in two differing accounts. The first account has it that on April 4th of 1931, Chang Mu was invited to eat at the girls house, allegedly in honor of the forthcoming wedding. During the dinner, Chang Mu was attacked by Uyghur's and slaughtered alongside 32 members of his personal bodyguard. It was further implied by our friend Wu Aichen, Chang Mu had already seduced the girl and that the ulama, those being islamic scholars who act as a sort of authority under shari law, upon discovering so, took it upon themselves to correct the situation. On the night of the proposed ceremony a mob appeared in the streets of Xiaopu. Chang Mu and his guard detail were already thoroughly drunk and easily overcome by the pissed off Uyghurs. All were killed, including the poor Uyghur girl. The Uyghurs then took 30 rifles from the dead and turned their attention towards the Gansu Chinese who were said to number in about a hundred families in the area. All of them were massacred and “had their heads buried in the soil of their farms”. Following this the Uyghurs marched upon the Chinese outposts at Tuluhu and Laimahe killing their garrisons and tax collectors while acquiring even more weapons. Better armed, the Uyghurs elected to make a move against Kumul. Kumul held an overwhelming Uyghur majority and easily fell into the hands of the rebels with little to no fighting. Most of the Han fled into the fortified Old City barring its gates. The Han caught outside the Old City were massacred brutally. Soon the rebel forces controlled Kumul's Muslim part of the city and the surrounding countryside, but the provincial forces remained secure within the Old city and its key arsenal. It is unclear whether the Xiaopu incident was carefully planned prior or simply just came into being. Regardless it was a spark that ignited a much larger rebellion. According to Mildred Cable and Francesca French, two members of the China inland Mission, who resided in Xiaopu at the time, it was indeed a systematically planned rebellion. “While officials surreptitiously transferred their wealth to a place of safety, the instigators of trouble were equally persistent in their secret preparations for war. Camels and mules were requisitioned to transport weapons, ammunition and stocks of food over little-known tracks, that they might be stored in mountain caves known only to the few. Steady streams ofsmall caravans carrying ammunition to the mountains came from the South Road, from Tunhwang and across the most lonely tracks of the desert connecting Kansu with Barku!. All these converged on the Khan's summer palace grounds in AraHim, and the stronghold of Bardash was stocked with huge supplies of food and firearms”. Yulbars Khan, the former chancellor of Maqsud Shah claimed he was in the Tien Shah escaping heat when the fighting began. Many speculate he had a hand in planning the uprising. Cable and French argued the Tungan population of Kumul also joined the rebellion early on. The insurgents of Kumul were quickly joined by neighboring Kirhiz of the Karlik Tagh who also held grievances against Jin as he had imposed Chinese officials upon them in 1929. According to Wu Aichen the Barkul and Kazakhs in the area also joined the rebellion. Thus Jin had succeeded in alienating the Turkic speaking peoples of northeastern Xinjiang now had a full scale Muslim rising on his hands.  Jin reacted with a strong show of force despite his Commissioner of Education Liu Wenlung and Commissioner for Reconstruction Yen Yushan both arguing for a policy of conciliation. Jin ordered troops to crack down on the rebels without mercy. Meanwhile back in Kumul the rebels were unable to breach the Old City so they fanned out into the countryside hunting Han settlers and soldiers down. According to the British Vice Consul General at Kashgar, R.P Watts, an initial detachment of 300 troops sent by Jin relieved Kumul Old City were ambushed and killed nearly to a man. Its also implied they had lost so easily because many of them were sleeping off the effects of opium. Despite the initial success, the rebels were unable to prevent provincial forces led by Zhu Juiqi, the Taoyin of Aksu from relieving the Old City. By late April the siege was lifted, Zhu Juiqi occupied the Old City and ordered his second in command Xiong Fayu to occupy Kumul's Muslim quarters. The rebels still controlled the countryside and were harassing Zhu's forces whenever they strayed a bit too far from their forts, but overall were not much of a match. Meanwhile Chinese troops under the leadership of Xiong Fayu began a series of reprisal massacres against Muslim civilians in Kumul and the surrounding villages. The Uyghur leaders quickly determined they needed external help in their rebellion against Jin. According to testimony from Yulbars Khan, they sent an appeal to the KMT government in Nanjing. Then in June of 1931 Yulbars was chosen, most likely because he was fluent in Mandarin, to head out secretly to Nanjing to carry the appeal. Along the way, Yulbars went to Suzhou to meet with Ma Chongying, known as the youngest and most extreme of the 5 Ma Tungan warlords. Ma Chongying was a Gansu native. Very little is known about his early years nor about his father, but he shared the same paternal grandfather of the Gansu/Qinghai warlords Ma Puqing and Ma Pufang. He was also distantly related to the Gansu/Ningxia warlords Ma Hongkuei and Ma Hungpin. Altogether the 5 were known as the 5 Ma warlord clique. Ma Congying entered military service in 1924 at the age of 14 when he joined a local Muslim militia. A year later the Guominjun forces of Feng Yuxiang invaded Gansu, but the Tungan warlords of western Gansu remained for the most part untouched. Ma Chongying became an officer for the forces of his uncle Ma Kechong and laid a siege and captured the important city of Huzhou on his own initiative. His troops easily defeated reinforcements sent to relieve the city under the command of Ma Lin. With this great victory, at the age of 16, Ma Chongying earned the reputation of a military genius and the nickname Ga Ssuling or “little commander”. His triumph would be short lived however for his superior Ma Kuchung had not ordered the seizure of Huzhou and dismissed his nephew for insubordination. Thus Ma Chongying took his men to Xining in Qinghai and there began building a private army.  The Guominjun eventually left Gansu after devastating it. In 1927 the northwestern parts of Gansu was hit by a massive earthquake and this combined with Feng Yuxiang's regional commander Liu Yufen using much of its land for opium cultivation led to a mass famine. In the spring of 1928, the northwestern Tungans began a revolt against the Guominjun led by the Muslim General Ma Tingxiang. Ma Chongying tossed his lot into the fighting leading to three successive attacks against the Guominjun at Huzhou. According to Robert Ekvall, an American traveler in the region “The revolt had by this time assumed all the aspects of a holy war. Chanting prayers, forty or fifty thousand fighters went into battle with fanatical zeal ... the young rebel leader Ma Chong-ing [sic] seemed to bear a charmed life and by his reckless courage gained the utmost in obedience and devotion from his ruffian troops. The Chinese were panic-stricken at the desperate courage of the Moslems, but eventually, by machine gun fire and light artillery, proved superior”. Alongside this American diplomats reported that the famine and war in Gansu had reduced many to cannibalism with a possible two million people dying between 1926-1929. One of the many to die was Ma Chongyings father who was executed by Liu Yufen as a reprisal against him for his actions in 1929.  That year Ma Chongying had strengthened his position by defeating several Guominjun forces. He traveled to Nanjing where he enrolled briefly at the military academy there. Rumors had it there he offered his services to the KMT on the understanding that if he could win control over Xinjiang that they recognize him. After departing Nanjing he traveled to Chongwei along the Yellow River where he joined his army before marching across the southern friends of the Ala Shan desert to head into northwestern Gansu. There he seized control over 4 districts; Kanzhou, Suzhou, Anxi and Tunhuang. Thus by the time of the Kumul uprising in April of 1931, Ma Chongying had established himself the Tungan warlord over northwestern Gansu. In June of that year, Yulbars Khan visited him at Suzhou while enroute to Nanjing. After a dinner, Ma Chongying asked Yulbars what was going on with the Kumul rebellion and the state of Kumul. Ma Congying then proceeded to criticize Jin Shujen whom he thought was unfit to govern Xinjiang. Upon hearing this Yulbars disclosed why he was going to Nanjing. Yulbars told him that many in Gansu did not support Jin and that he was appealing to Nanjing to see if Jin could be replaced with a new governor. Ma Chongying sat silently for some time before asking if Yulbar's had any personal contacts in Nanjing, to which he replied he did not. He then advised Yulbars to not go to Nanjing because of three reasons: 1) The Kuomintang had just completed its Northern Expedition and was in need of stability, so it was not in a position to replace its frontier governors, despite any shortcomings they had.2) Even if the Nanking government agreed to remove Chin Shu-jen, implementing the decision would likely take two or three years due to the vast distances involved. 3) Furthermore, Chin's greed would likely make him unwilling to step down, and he might even seek support from a foreign power to secure his position. Under these conditions, Sinkiang could potentially come under foreign control. The points were sound, however Yulbars stated the people had sent him to Nanjing, what should he do if he failed? Ma Congying replied “I have a way ... I can meet the needs of the Uighurs of Ha-mi ... In the name of Muslim brotherhood, I shall take my army into Sinkiang. First I shall alleviate the suffering of the Uighurs of Ha-mi, then I shall drive Chin Shu-jen from the stage by force of arms.” A lot of this is conjecture, as it would seem impossible Ma Chongying spontaneously decided to invade Xinjiang over dinner. Ma Chongying was interested in the Kumul uprising long before the arrival of Yulbars in Suzhou and based on other sources it seems Yulbars was well aware of this prior to his visit. Ma Chongying most likely had decent information on the political ongoings of Xinjiang as two Muslim Turks from Istanbul had traveled to northwestern Gansu from Urumqi in early 1931 and entered Ma Chongying's military HQ. One was Kamal Kaya Efendi who went on to become his chief of staff. Ma Chongying was also gun running to places like Kumul, meaning he would have a lot of intel. Ma Chongyings powerbase in Kanzhou was also temporary. As pointing out by Mildred Cable and Francesca French “based on the assumption of the paralysing effect of frightfulness in action, and as a method of temporary invasion it answered his purpose well, but it never served him as a basis of true conquest, nor did he ever establish rule over one single acre of the land which he invaded. His was the method of the locust. . . and his army was always viewed as a plague. It came, it devoured, and when it had passed over, the patient, constructively minded peasants instantly began to repair the damage done to their fields, and to begetsons to replace those who had been swept away in his train” In 1931 Ma Chongyings private army was not a large one, it was perhaps no more than 1000 men and given the account of Mildred Cable and Francesca French, his army had to roam around like locusts to survive. Ma Chongying was a very ambitious and young warlord who like many in this part of China dreamed of carving out a Muslim empire in central asia. In the spring of 1931, Ma Chongying had only two possible directions to take. One was through China proper where he would most likely face his uncle Ma Pufang, whom at the time he was in this sort of propaganda war with. The other was to go through Xinjiang, where it seemed he could receive aid from other Muslim groups seeking to be rid of Jin Shujen. Ma Chongying assembled a force of 500 Tungan cavalry and swiftly crossed the desert between Anxi and Kumul during the full heat of midsummer, arriving in the oasis on the 28th of June, at around the same time as the French Citroen expedition. The French Citroen expedition got to see an encounter between Ma Chongyings Tungan Cavalry and some Chinese machine gun detachment outside of the village of Yikoshu. The French account indicated the Chinese forces also had some Mongol soldiers with them decisively beating back the Tungan riders. After witnessing this the French headed for Kumul's Old City which they found in a state of chaos. Everyone within the city was busy organizing defenses. The French were taken immediately to the local Chinese commander, Zhu Juichih. As they made their way they could see anxious Muslims peering out of their windows and on telegraph poles were heads, hearts and livers, most likely from captured insurgents. Commander Zhu gave the French permission to continue to Urumqi, stating they could do so at their own risk. Most of the French departed on July 1st, leaving behind 3 members at the Old City who would become eyewitnesses to Ma Chongyings attack.  On July 3rd, Ma Chongying dispatched two messangers to Zhu Juichich baring the following message. “By order of the National Government of China I have been appointed commander-in-chief of all military forces of Kansu and Sinkiang. Having assumed my new occasional pistol shot could be heard as hand-to-hand fighting began on the wall Its self ... Just when the place seemed to be doomed a machine gun, which up to this had been silent ... suddenly came to life. Emplaced in a blockhouse flanking the wall, It opened fire, mowing down the assault, and the glacis was soon cleared except for heaps of corpses”.  Ma Chongyings Tungan cavalry force lacked heavy artillery necessary to breach the Old city walls. Three separate attacks were made on the night of the 3rd, all beaten back. Zhu Juichih, a military veteran had zero intention of surrendering to the so called “little commander” whom he dismissed as a “thieving cub”. Ma Chongying seemed to have little stomach for siege warfare so on the 5th he led a large portion of his Tungan cavalry away from Kumul Old City. By doing so he had left roughly 1000 Uyghur insurgents with a handful of Tungans to continue a siege against the Kumul Old City who had 2000 provincial troops. Zhu Juichih was unaware of Ma Chongyings true purpose so he elected not to sortie fearing a trap. Meanwhile Ma Congying led his riders over the Karlik Tagh to Barkul surprising its defenders. Barkul would end up surrendering without much of a struggle. The commander at Barkul named Hedin handed over 2000 rifles and opened the Barkul arsenal to Ma Chongying. Ma Chongying left a hundred man garrison to capture the town as he turned south. According to Wu Aichen, the sudden small victories of the young commander emboldened other groups to join his cause such as the Kazakhs and Tungans north of Karlik Tagh. By mid-July Muslim insurgents were effectively controlling the entire territory of the Old Kumul Khanate, from Xingxingxia to Iwanquan. Groups of invading Tungans from Gansu formed an alliance with the Muslims of Xinjiang, notably from Xingxingxia and Barkul to hold the siege of Kumul Old City. Ma Chongying seemed to also hold the full support of indigenous Muslims of the area whether it be Hazakh, Kirghiz, Uyghur or Xinjiang Tungans.  Jin Shujen's received word of the young commander leading a force of Tungan cavalry attacking various places. It seemed his next target was to be Qiqiaoqing. Jin appointed his chief secretary, Lu Xiaozu to be his commander in chief of the provincial forces; Tu Qikuo and Sheng Shihtsai were to be his joint chiefs of staff. Lu Xiaozu was a younger brother to Jin Shujen, a civilian with little to no military experience and was the bitter rival of the current commissioner for military affairs at Urumqi, Jin Shuxin. Lu Xiaozu mustered a force roughly 1000 strong of men almost all lacking any military training or experience. They were immediately tossed over to Qiqiaoqing with orders to halt the Tungan advance pending further reinforcements. Shortly after their arrival, the troops were met by a surprise night attack and killed nearly to a man. Their commander Tu Qikuo committed suicide in disgrace. According to Kamal Kaya Efendi, the Tungans were led personally by Ma CHongying during the daring attack. He had taken his forces into the oasis through little known trails in Karlik Tagh and Bogdo Ula after his capture of Barkul.  Following this victory, Ma Chongying returned to Kumul Old City to see if the siege was providing any results. This was a rather bizarre decision as Jin Shujens capital of Urumqi was basically open for the taking, but perhaps the young commander had overestimated his enemy. When Ma Congying arrived at Kumul Old City, the besiegers' morale improved greatly. Between July 3rd to October 16th over 43 attacks had been levied against the Chinese garrison. The Tungans dug trenches and built barricades trying to storm the walls. Meanwhile within the old city walls the besieged people were forced to eat their camels, horses and mules to survive. By October 1st the defenders were reduced to a ration of 750 grammes of kaoliang floor per day and were expected to run out by the end of the month. Likewise ammunition was running low, prompting Zhu Juichih to resort to more archaic weapons such as fire arrows and Dao swords that the men had found preserved in the arsenal going back to the time of Zuo Zungtang's campaign in the 19th century. One of the French expeditionaries reported the only thing being sold in the bazaars was opium. One could not even obtain oil as it was boiled and hurled over the walls at the attackers. The Tungans attempted numerous times to breach the walls using mines, but they lacked sufficient powder to create large enough explosions. On one occasion a breach was made in the walls, but the defenders were quickly able to block the hole with wool before the attackers could get through. Afterwards a ditch was dug around the walls and flooded so the Tungan trenches would be unable to continue mining. Siege warfare is neat isn't it? Horrible to be sure, but so much ingenuity. By Mid-October the defenders were very desperate. According to the French expeditionaries inside after 108 days of siege, the defenders sortied out of the town on October 16th and tried to reach Urumqi. “What sustained the men was opium. They could not have held out without it, and so long as it lasted and no strenuous effort was demanded of them, they could get along on practically no food. At night the opium lamps of the sentries could be seen sparkling like little stars the length of the ramparts. The whole garrison was in fact intoxicated. It was fantastic!” It is quite probable the defenders chose to make a break for it because they were a majority Han Chinese and greatly feared their fate if the Tungans got in. If you know Islamic history, well you know. Ma Chongying had refused any terms other than unconditional surrender and given the feelings of Kumuls Muslim insurgents, it seemed highly unlikely any prisoners would be taken. Regardless, the siege had delayed the Tungans for a long time, allowing Jin Shujen to hastily organize provincial forces at Urumqi. After his first military campaign had failed horrendously, Jin now orderedTsetsen Puntsag Gegeen, the “living Buddha” of Xinjiang of the Torgut Mongols to lead his famous Torgut Cavalry regiment against the Tungans at Kumul. The Turgot troops were by far the best available at the time to Jin, and the most capable to go one on one with Tungan cavalry. However Tsetsen Puntsag Gegeen was one of the many Torguts who had grievances with Jin over his policy of enforcing Han Chinese officials upon his people to take positions of leadership. Moreover a plot had recently been discovered that one of his subordinates had been paid off to assassinate him. Tsetsen Puntsag Gegeen suspected Jin Shujen to be the culprit to the plot and when the said assassins fled to Urumqi, Jin refused to hand them over for justice, all but confirmed his suspicions.  Thus Tsetsen Puntsag Gegeen refused to become involved in the war over Kumul and instead took his forces to Kara Shahr as a demonstration of power. Lacking sufficient numbers or reliable Han Chinese troops, Jin turned next to the White Russian community. Lu Xiaozu who proved himself an imbecile at military matters was replaced with Chang Peiyuan, the Military commander of the Ili Region which also happened to be the region where most White Russians resided. Chang Peiyuan went to work rallying White Russian volunteers who more or less refused to fight for the Chinese, until Jin threatened to repatriate them to Stalin's USSR. In late September Chang Peiyuan had a force headed by 250 White Russians under the leadership of Colonel Pappengut with the mission of relieving Kumul Old City. During this time Ma Chongying decided to march upon the capital, drawing most of his Tungan cavalry away from Kumul heading westwards along the Qiqiaoqing road. This took him directly into the path of the advancing White Russians who began skirmishing around the village of Liaotun. At some point Ma Chongying was seriously wounded, shot through both of his legs. Despite this both sides had negligible casualties. Yet as a result of his grievous injury a large portion of Ma Congying's Tungan riders retreated back into northwestern Gansu. Rumor has it, at this time Ma Congying was bought off by Jin Shujen, regardless he had to take a prolonged time to recuperate and was away from the front lines. Once safely across the Gansu-Xinjiang frontier, Ma Chongying handed control of his four districts of Tunhuang, Anxi, Yumen and Suzhou to his uncle Ma Pufang. Meanwhile Chang Peiyuans forces with Pappenguts White Russians in the spearhead were still advancing towards Kumul Old City. They managed to relieve it on November 1st. The victorious Chinese troops sacked Kumul as a reward, that was denied to the White Russian forces. The provincial troops then performed a systematic destruction of large parts of Kumul, levelling entire villages and terrorizing the population. Zhu Juichih had returned to Urumqi, but his Lt Xing Fayu had remained at Kumul and began a series of mass executions. The reprisals were so heinous, all of the Uyghurs who had remained neutral during the ordeal threw their lot in with the rebellion. Refugees began to pour westwards towards Turfan while Uyghur insurgents withdrew to Karlik Tagh, notably to their well stocked mountain fort at Bardash. Those who went to Bardash unleashed a guerilla war against Jin troops in collaboration with Ma Chongyings Tungans who awaited their leader in Xinjiang. A communication network led from Bardash and Anxi for this purpose. While Ma Chongying was licking his wounds he reorganized his forces. 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. Thus the Kumul Rebellion had just been unleashed. Those who were oppressed were gradually forming a rebellious coalition against Jin Shujen. Although Ma Chongying had literally been cut down at the legs so to say, he was not down for the count. The Rebellion had only just begun.

Welcome to China Compass on the Fight Laugh Feast Network! I'm your China travel guide, Missionary Ben. You can follow me on X (@chinaadventures) where I post daily reminders to pray for China (PrayforChina.us). You can also email me with any questions or comments @ bfwesten at gmail dot com. B.F. Westen is my pen name, for security reasons. If you want to see the missionary books I’ve published and learn more about our work, you can find easy links to everything @ PrayGiveGo.us! Pray for China Province of the Week: Hebei Hebei Province in northern China is matched up with the states of Wisconsin and Michigan (not the UP) for prayer. Hebei means “North of the River” and refers to its location north of the Yellow River… See which Chinese province your state is praying for @ PrayforChina.us! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hebei https://www.asiaharvest.org/china-resources/hebei https://www.travelchinaguide.com/china_great_wall/scene/hebei/ The Many Martyrs of Hebei https://www.asiaharvest.org/china-resources/hebei (click and scroll down for full list of testimonies) https://www.asiaharvest.org/china-resources/hebei/1900-benjamin-emily-gladys-bagnall https://www.asiaharvest.org/china-resources/hebei/1900-meng-zhangzhun-children https://www.asiaharvest.org/china-resources/hebei/1900-tracy-pitkin https://www.asiaharvest.org/china-resources/hebei/1900-the-baoding-massacre https://www.asiaharvest.org/china-resources/hebei/1900-methodist-martyrs-of-the-kaiping-circuit Borden of Yale: The Millionaire Missionary No Reserve, No Retreat, No Regrets www.BordenofYale.com Borden of Yale: “Pitkin did more even in death than in life, may we not believe that God will, out of seeming loss, get great glory to Himself and call many to fill the breach?” China News Hebei Province issues temporary residency permits to (North Korean) defectors https://www.dailynk.com/english/china-hebei-province-issues-temporary-residency-permits-defectors/ China “Shootings” https://www.yahoo.com/news/eight-killed-stabbing-incident-wuxi-155703609.html Chinese Statistics (Pay Wall) - “There are three kinds of lies: Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics” Twain https://www.ft.com/content/de9af759-2b94-4b7e-98e4-42698900efeb China Population Drop https://www.businesstimes.com.sg/international/china-population-set-51-million-drop-pro-birth-moves-fail