3.180 Fall and Rise of China: A premature Japanese Victory over Changkufeng

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

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

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

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

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

Last time we spoke about the Changsha fire. Chiang Kai-shek faced a brutal choice: defend Wuhan to the last man or flood the land to slow the invaders. He chose both, pushing rivers and rallying a fractured army as Japanese forces pressed along the Yangtze. Fortresses at Madang held long, but the cost was high—troops lost, civilians displaced, a city's heart burning in the night. Wuhan fell after months of brutal fighting, yet the battle did not break China's will. Mao Zedong urged strategy over martyrdom, preferring to drain the enemy and buy time for a broader struggle. The Japanese, though victorious tactically, found their strength ebbing, resource strains, supply gaps, and a war that felt endless. In the wake of Wuhan, Changsha stood next in the Japanese crosshairs, its evacuation and a devastating fire leaving ash and memory in its wake. Behind these prices, political currents swirled. Wang Jingwei defected again, seeking power beyond Chiang's grasp, while Chongqing rose as a western bastion of resistance. The war hardened into a protracted stalemate, turning Japan from an aggressive assailant into a wary occupier, and leaving China to endure, persist, and fight on.   #175  The Soviet-Japanese Border Conflicts Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. So based on the title of this one, you probably can see we are taking a bit of a detour. For quite some time we have focused on the Japanese campaigns into China proper 1937-1938. Now the way the second sino-japanese war is traditionally broken down is in phases. 1937-1938, 1939-1942 and 1942-1945. However there is actually even more going on in China aside from the war with Japan. In Xinjiang province a large full blown Islamic revolution breaks out in 1937. We will be covering that story at a later date, but another significant event is escalating border skirmishes in Manchukuo. Now these border skirmishes had been raging ever since the USSR consolidated its hold over the far east. We talked about some of those skirmishes prior to the Sino-Soviet war in 1929. However when Japan created the puppet government of Manchukuo, this was a significant escalation in tensions with the reds. Today we are going to talk about the escalating border conflicts between the Soviets and Japan. A tongue of poorly demarcated land extends southeast from Hunchun, hugging the east bank of the Tumen River between Lake Khasan to the east and Korea to the west. Within this tongue stands Changkufeng Hill, one of a long chain of highlands sweeping from upstream along the rivers and moors toward the sea. The twin-peaked hill sits at the confluence area several miles northwest of the point where Manchuria, Korea, and the Russian Far East meet. The hill's shape reminded Koreans of their changgo, which is a long snare drum constricted at the center and tapped with the hands at each end. When the Manchus came to the Tumen, they rendered the phonetic sounds into three ideographic characters meaning "taut drum peaks" or Chang-ku-feng. The Japanese admired the imagery and preserved the Chinese readings, which they pronounce Cho-ko-ho. From their eastern vantage, the Russians called it Zaozernaya, "hill behind the lake." Soviet troops referred to it as a sugar-loaf hill. For many years, natives and a handful of officials in the region cultivated a relaxed attitude toward borders and sovereignty. Even after the Japanese seized Manchuria in 1931, the issue did not immediately come to a head. With the expansion of Manchukuo and the Soviet Far East under Stalin's Five-Year plans, both sides began to attend more closely to frontier delimitation. Whenever either party acted aggressively, force majeure was invoked to justify the unexpected and disruptive events recognized in international law. Most often, these incidents erupted along the eastern Manchurian borders with the USSR or along the 350-mile frontier south of Lake Khanka, each skirmish carrying the seeds of all-out warfare. Now we need to talk a little bit about border history. The borders in question essentially dated to pacts concluded by the Qing dynasty and the Tsardom. Between the first Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689 and the Mukden Agreement of 1924, there were over a dozen accords governing the borders. Relevant to Changkufeng were the basic 15-article Convention of Peking, supplementing the Tientsin Treaties of November 1860, some maps made in 1861, and the eight-article Hunchun Border Protocol of 1886. By the 1860 treaty, the Qing ceded to Tsarist Russia the entire maritime province of Siberia, but the meaning of "lands south of Lake Khanka" remained rather vague. Consequently, a further border agreement was negotiated in June 1861 known as "the Lake Khanka Border Pact", by which demarcations were drawn on maps and eight wooden markers erected. The border was to run from Khanka along ridgelines between the Hunchun River and the sea, past Suifenho and Tungning, terminating about 6 miles from the mouth of the Tumen. Then a Russo-Chinese commission established in 1886 drew up the Hunchun Border Pact, proposing new or modified markers along the 1860–1861 lines and arranging a Russian resurvey. However, for the Japanese, in 1938, the Chinese or Manchu texts of the 1886 Hunchun agreement were considered controlling. The Soviets argued the border ran along every summit west of Khasan, thereby granting them jurisdiction over at least the eastern slopes of all elevations, including Changkufeng and Shachaofeng.  Since the Qing dynasty and the house of Romanov were already defunct, the new sovereignties publicly appealed to opposing texts, and the Soviet side would not concede that the Russian-language version had never been deemed binding by the Qing commissioners. Yet, even in 1938, the Japanese knew that only the Chinese text had survived or could be located.    Now both the Chinese and Russian military maps generally drew the frontier along the watershed east of Khasan; this aligned with the 1861 readings based on the Khanka agreement. The Chinese Republican Army conducted new surveys sometime between 1915 and 1920. The latest Chinese military map of the Changkufeng area drew the border considerably closer to the old "red line" of 1886, running west of Khasan but near the shore rather than traversing the highland crests. None of the military delimitations of the border was sanctified by an official agreement. Hence, the Hunchun Protocol, whether well known or not, invaluable or worthless, remained the only government-to-government pact dealing with the frontiers.  Before we jump into it, how about a little summary of what became known as the Soviet-Japanese border conflicts. The first major conflict would obviously be the Russo-Japanese war of 1904-1905. Following years of conflict between the Russian Empire and Japan culminating in the costly Battle of Tsushima, Tsar Nicholas II's government sought peace, recognizing Japan's claims to Korea and agreeing to evacuate Manchuria.  From 1918 to 1920, the Imperial Japanese Army, under Emperor Taishō after the death of Meiji, assisted the White Army and Alexander Kerensky against the Bolshevik Red Army. They also aided the Czechoslovak Legion in Siberia to facilitate its return to Europe after an Austrian-Hungarian armoured train purportedly went astray. By 1920, with Austria-Hungary dissolved and Czechoslovakia established two years earlier, the Czechoslovak Legion reached Europe. Japan withdrew from the Russian Revolution and the Civil War in 1922. Following Japan's 1919-1920 occupations and the Soviet intervention in Mongolia in 1921, the Republic of China also withdrew from Outer Mongolia in 1921. In 1922, after capturing Vladivostok in 1918 to halt Bolshevik advances, Japanese forces retreated to Japan as Bolshevik power grew and the postwar fatigue among combatants increased. After Hirohito's invasion of Manchuria in 1931–1932, following Taishō's death in 1926, border disputes between Manchukuo, the Mongolian People's Republic, and the Soviet Union increased. Many clashes stemmed from poorly defined borders, though some involved espionage. Between 1932 and 1934, the Imperial Japanese Army reported 152 border disputes, largely tied to Soviet intelligence activity in Manchuria, while the Soviets accused Japan of 15 border violations, six air intrusions, and 20 cases of "spy smuggling" in 1933 alone. Numerous additional violations followed in the ensuing years. By the mid-1930s, Soviet-Japanese diplomacy and trust had deteriorated further, with the Japanese being openly labeled "fascist enemies" at the Seventh Comintern Congress in July 1935. Beginning in 1935, conflicts significantly escalated. On 8 January 1935, the first armed clash, known as the Halhamiao incident, took place on the border between Mongolia and Manchukuo. Several dozen cavalrymen of the Mongolian People's Army crossed into Manchuria near disputed fishing grounds and engaged an 11‑man Manchukuo Imperial Army patrol near the Buddhist temple at Halhamiao, led by a Japanese military advisor. The Manchukuo Army sustained 6 wounded and 2 dead, including the Japanese officer; the Mongols suffered no casualties and withdrew after the Japanese sent a punitive expedition to reclaim the area. Two motorized cavalry companies, a machine‑gun company, and a tankette platoon occupied the position for three weeks without resistance. In June 1935, the first direct exchange of fire between the Japanese and Soviets occurred when an 11‑man Japanese patrol west of Lake Khanka was attacked by six Soviet horsemen, reportedly inside Manchukuo territory. In the firefight, one Soviet soldier was killed and two horses were captured. The Japanese requested a joint investigation, but the Soviets rejected the proposal. In October 1935, nine Japanese and 32 Manchukuoan border guards were establishing a post about 20 kilometers north of Suifenho when they were attacked by 50 Soviet soldiers. The Soviets opened fire with rifles and five heavy machine guns. Two Japanese and four Manchukuoan soldiers were killed, and another five were wounded. The Manchukuoan foreign affairs representative lodged a verbal protest with the Soviet consul at Suifenho. The Kwantung Army of Japan also sent an intelligence officer to investigate the clash. On 19 December 1935, a Manchukuoan unit reconnoitering southwest of Buir Lake clashed with a Mongolian party, reportedly capturing 10 soldiers. Five days later, 60 truck‑borne Mongolian troops assaulted the Manchukuoans and were repulsed, at the cost of three Manchukuoan dead. On the same day, at Brunders, Mongolian forces attempted three times to drive out Manchukuoan outposts, and again at night, but all attempts failed. Further small attempts occurred in January, with Mongolians using airplanes for reconnaissance. The arrival of a small Japanese force in three trucks helped foil these attempts; casualties occurred on both sides, though Mongolian casualties are unknown aside from 10 prisoners taken. In February 1936, Lieutenant-Colonel Sugimoto Yasuo was ordered to form a detachment from the 14th Cavalry Regiment to "drive the Outer Mongol intruders from the Olankhuduk region," a directive attributed to Lieutenant-General Kasai Heijuro. Sugimoto's detachment included cavalry guns, heavy machine guns, and tankettes. They faced a force of about 140 Mongolians equipped with heavy machine guns and light artillery. On February 12, Sugimoto's men drove the Mongolians south, at the cost of eight Japanese killed, four wounded, and one tankette destroyed. The Japanese began to withdraw, but were attacked by 5–6 Mongolian armored cars and two bombers, which briefly disrupted the column. The situation was stabilized when the Japanese unit received artillery support, allowing them to destroy or repel the armored cars. In March 1936, the Tauran incident occurred. In this clash, both the Japanese Army and the Mongolian Army deployed a small number of armored fighting vehicles and aircraft. The incident began when 100 Mongolian and six Soviet troops attacked and occupied the disputed village of Tauran, Mongolia, driving off the small Manchurian garrison. They were supported by light bombers and armored cars, though the bombing sorties failed to inflict damage on the Japanese, and three bombers were shot down by Japanese heavy machine guns. Local Japanese forces counter-attacked, conducting dozens of bombing sorties and finally assaulting Tauran with 400 men and 10 tankettes. The result was a Mongolian rout, with 56 Mongolian soldiers killed, including three Soviet advisors, and an unknown number wounded. Japanese losses were 27 killed and 9 wounded. Later in March 1936, another border clash occurred between Japanese and Soviet forces. Reports of border violations prompted the Japanese Korean Army to send ten men by truck to investigate, but the patrol was ambushed by 20 Soviet NKVD soldiers deployed about 300 meters inside territory claimed by Japan. After suffering several casualties, the Japanese patrol withdrew and was reinforced with 100 men, who then drove off the Soviets. Fighting resumed later that day when the NKVD brought reinforcements. By nightfall, the fighting had ceased and both sides had pulled back. The Soviets agreed to return the bodies of two Japanese soldiers who had died in the fighting, a development viewed by the Japanese government as encouraging. In early April 1936, three Japanese soldiers were killed near Suifenho in another minor affray. This incident was notable because the Soviets again returned the bodies of the fallen servicemen. In June 1937, the Kanchazu Island incident occurred on the Amur River along the Soviet–Manchukuo border. Three Soviet gunboats crossed the river's center line, disembarked troops, and occupied Kanchazu Island. Japanese forces from the IJA 1st Division, equipped with two horse-drawn 37 mm artillery pieces, quickly established improvised firing positions and loaded their guns with both high-explosive and armor-piercing shells. They shelled the Soviet vessels, sinking the lead gunboat, crippling the second, and driving off the third. Japanese troops subsequently fired on the swimming crewmen from the sunken ships using machine guns. Thirty-seven Soviet soldiers were killed, while Japanese casualties were zero. The Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs protested and demanded the Soviet forces withdraw from the island. The Soviet leadership, apparently shocked by the incident and reluctant to escalate, agreed to evacuate their troops. By 1938 the border situation had deteriorated. The tangled terrain features, mountain, bog, stream, forest, and valley, would have complicated even careful observers' discernment of the old red line drawn in 1886. Fifty years later, the markers themselves had undergone a metamorphosis. Japanese investigators could find, at most, only 14 to 17 markers standing fairly intact between the Tumen estuary and Khanka—roughly one every 25 miles at best. The remainder were missing or ruined; five were found in new locations. Marker "K," for example, was 40 meters deeper inside Manchuria, away from Khanka. Japanese military experts noted that of the 20 markers originally set along the boundaries of Hunchun Prefecture alone, only four could be found by the summer of 1938. The rest had either been wrecked or arbitrarily moved and discarded by Russian or Chinese officials and inhabitants. It is even said that one missing marker could be seen on display in Khabarovsk. The Chinese had generally interpreted the boundary as the road line just west of Khasan, at least in practice. Free road movement, however, had become a problem even 20 years before the Japanese overran Manchuria in 1931–1932 during the so-called Manchurian Incident. The Japanese adopted, or inherited, the Chinese interpretation, which was based on the 1886 agreement on border roads; the key clause held that the frontier west of Khasan would be the road along the lake. Japanese sources emphasize that local residents' anger toward gradual Soviet oppression and penetrations westward into Manchurian territory fueled the conflict. Many natives believed the original boundaries lay east of the lake, but the Soviets adjusted the situation to suit their own convenience. In practice, the Russians were restricting road use just west of Khasan by Manchurian and Korean residents. There was speculation that this was a prelude to taking over the ridgelines, depending on the reaction of the Manchukuoan–Japanese side. Villagers who went to streams or the lake to launder clothing found themselves subjected to sniper fire. Along a 25-mile stretch of road near Shachaofeng, farmers reported coming under fire from new Soviet positions as early as November 1935. Nevertheless, Japanese and Koreans familiar with the Tumen area noted agrarian, seasonal Korean religious rites atop Changkufeng Hill, including fattened pigs sacrificed and changgo drums beaten. Village elders told Japanese visitors in 1938 that, until early the preceding year, no Russians had come as far as Changkufeng Hill. Looking only at the border sector around Changkufeng, the easy days were clearly behind us. In the summer of 1938, Gaimusho "Foreign Ministry" observers described the explosive situation along the Korea–Manchuria–USSR borders as a matter of de facto frontiers. Both sides pressed against each other, and their trigger-happy posture was summed up in the colloquial refrain: "Take another step and we'll let you have it." Near dawn on 13 June 1938, a Manchurian patrol detected a suspicious figure in the fog swirling over Changlingtzu Hill on the Siberian–Manchurian frontier. Challenged at 15 feet, the suspect hurled two pistols to the ground and raised his hands in surrender. At headquarters, the police soon realized this was no routine border-trespassing case. The man was a defector and he was a Russian general, in fact he was the director of all NKVD forces in the Soviet Far East. Beneath a mufti of spring coat and hunting cap, he wore a full uniform with medals. His identification card No. 83 designated him as G. S. Lyushkov, Commissar 3rd Class, countersigned by Nikolai Yezhov, NKVD head in Moscow. Lyushkov was promptly turned over to the Japanese military authorities, who transferred him to Seoul and then to Tokyo under close escort. On 1 July, the Japanese press was permitted to disclose that Lyushkov had sought refuge in Japan. Ten days later, to capitalize on the commissar's notoriety and to confound skeptics, the Japanese produced Lyushkov at a press conference in Tokyo. For the Japanese and foreign correspondents, who met separately with him, Lyushkov described Soviet Far East strength and the turmoil wracking the USSR, because for those of you unfamiliar this was during the Stalinist purges. Clearly, the Japanese had gained a unique reservoir of high-level intelligence and a wealth of materials, including notes scratched in blood by suspects incarcerated at Khabarovsk. A general tightening of Russian frontier security had recently been reported. Natives of Fangchuanting asserted that a Soviet cavalry patrol appeared in June, seemingly for the first time. Contact with Yangkuanping, northwest of Khasan, was severed. More importantly, Japanese Army Signal Corps intelligence detected a surge of Soviet message traffic from the Posyet Bay district. After Lyushkov's defection, a drastic reshuffle in the local Russian command apparently occurred, and responsibility for border surveillance seems to have been reallocated. Japanese records indicate that the Novokievsk security force commander was relieved and the sector garrison replaced by troops from Vladivostok. Gaimusho intelligence also received reports that a border garrison unit had been transferred from Khabarovsk or Chita to the Tumen sector. The Kwantung Army signal monitors also intercepted two significant frontline messages on 6 July from the new Russian local commander in the Posyet region, addressed to Lieutenant General Sokolov in Khabarovsk. Decoded, the messages suggested (1) that ammunition for infantry mortars amounted to less than half the required supply; and  (2) a recommendation that higher headquarters authorize Russian elements to secure certain unoccupied high ground west of Khasan.  The commander noted terrain advantages and the contemplated construction of emplacements that would command Najin and the Korean railway. As a start, at least one Russian platoon should be authorized to dig in on the highest ground (presumably Changkufeng) and deploy four tons of entanglements to stake out the Soviet claim. Korea Army Headquarters received a telegram from the Kwantung Army on 7 July conveying the deciphered messages. On the same day, the 19th Division in North Korea telephoned Seoul that, on 6 July, three or four Soviet horsemen had been observed reconnoitering Manchurian territory from atop a hill called Changkufeng. The alarming intelligence from the Kwantung Army and the front warranted immediate attention by the Korea Army. Some Kwantung Army officers doubted the significance of the developments, with one intelligence official even suggesting the Russian messages might be a deliberate ploy designed to entrap the Japanese at Changkufeng. On 7–8 July, all staff officers in Seoul convened at army headquarters. The name of Changkufeng Hill was not well known, but maps and other data suggested that neither the Japanese nor the Russians had previously stationed border units in the ridge complex west of Khasan. As early as March 1936, Army Commander Koiso Kuniaki had distributed maps to subordinate units, indicating which sectors were in dispute. No patrol was to enter zones lacking definitive demarcation. Until then, the only Japanese element east of the Tumen was a Manchurian policeman at Fangchuanting. Ownership of the high ground emerged as an early issue. A number of other points were raised by  the Kwantung Army: At present, Soviet elements in the area were negligible. The intrusion must not be overlooked. The Russians could be expected to exploit any weakness, and half-measures would not suffice, especially regarding the Japanese defense mission along a 125-mile frontier. In Japanese hands, Changkufeng Hill would be useful, but two excellent observation posts already existed in the neighboring sector of the Manchurian tongue. With dissidence and purges underway, the Russians may have judged it necessary to seal border gaps, particularly after Lyushkov's defection. They may also have sought to control Changkufeng to offset Japanese dominance of the high ground to the north. Soviet seizure of Changkufeng would upset the delicate status quo and could provoke a contest for equivalent observation posts. In broader terms, it mattered little whether the Russians sought a permanent observation post on Changkufeng Hill, which was of relatively minor strategic value. Japan's primary concern lay in the China theater; Changkufeng was peripheral. The Japanese should not expend limited resources or become distracted. The matter required consultation with the high command in Tokyo. In the absence of more comprehensive intelligence, the assembled staff officers concluded that the Korea Army should, at a minimum, ignore or disregard Soviet actions for the time being, while maintaining vigilant observation of the area. The consensus was communicated to Major General Kitano Kenzo, the Korea Army chief of staff, who concurred, and to Koiso. Upon learning that the recommendation advocated a low posture, Koiso inquired only whether the opinion reflected the unanimous view of the staff. Having been assured that it did, he approved the policy. Koiso, then 58, was at the threshold of the routine personnel changes occurring around 15 July. He had just been informed that he would retire and that General Nakamura Kotaro would succeed him. Those acquainted with Koiso perceived him as treating the border difficulties as a minor anticlimax in the course of his command tour. He appeared unemphatic or relaxed as he prepared to depart from a post he had held for twenty-one years. Although neither Koiso nor his staff welcomed the Soviet activities that appeared under way, his reaction likely reflected a reluctance to make decisions that could constrain his soon-to-arrive successor. On 8 July Koiso authorized the dispatch of warnings to the 19th Division at Nanam, to the Hunchun garrison, and to the intelligence branch at Hunchun. These units were instructed to exercise maximum precautions and to tighten frontier security north of Shuiliufeng. In response to the initial appearance of Soviet horsemen at Changkufeng, the Kucheng Border Garrison Unit of the 76th Infantry Regiment maintained close surveillance across the Tumen. By about noon on 9 July, patrols detected approximately a dozen Russian troops commencing construction atop Changkufeng. Between 11 and 13 July, the number of soldiers on the slopes increased to forty; there were also thirty horses and eleven camouflaged tents. Operating in shifts on the western side, thirty meters from the crest, the Russians erected barbed wire and firing trenches; fifty meters forward, they excavated observation trenches. In addition to existing telephone lines between Changkufeng, Lake Khasan, and Kozando, the Russians installed a portable telephone net. Logistical support was provided by three boats on the lake. Approximately twenty kilometers to the east, well within Soviet territory, large forces were being mobilized, and steamship traffic into Posyet Bay intensified. Upon learning of the "intrusion" at Changkufeng on 9 July, Lt. General Suetaka Kamezo, the commander of the 19th Division, dispatched staff officers to the front and prepared to send elements to reinforce border units.  The special significance of Suetaka and his division stemmed from a series of unusual circumstances. Chientao Province, the same zone into which Lyushkov had fled and the sector where Soviet horsemen had appeared, fell within Manchukuo geographically and administratively. Yet, in terms of defense, the configuration of the frontier, the terrain, and the transportation network more closely connected the region with North Korea than with southeastern Manchuria. Approximately 80% of the population was of Korean origin, which implied Japanese rather than Manchukuoan allegiance. Consequently, the Korea Army had been made operationally responsible for the defense of Chientao and controlled not only the three-battalion garrison at Hunchun but also the intelligence detachment located there. In the event of war, the Korea Army's mission was defined as mobilization and execution of subsidiary operational tasks against the USSR, under the control and in support of the Kwantung Army.  The Korea Army ordinarily possessed two infantry divisions, the 19th in North Korea and the 20th stationed at Seoul, but the 20th Division had already departed for China, leaving only the 20th Depot Division in the capital. Beyond sparse ground units, devoid of armor and with weak heavy artillery, there were only two air regiments in Korea, the nearest being the unit at Hoeryong. The Korea Army was designed to maintain public security within Korea as well as fulfill minimal defensive responsibilities. Such an army did not require a full-time operations officer, and none was maintained. When needed, as in mid-1938, the task fell to the senior staff officer, in this case Colonel Iwasaki Tamio. In peacetime, training constituted the primary focus.  Thus, the 19th Division was entrusted with defending northeastern Korea. Its commander, Suetaka, a seasoned infantryman, resented the fact that his elite force had never engaged in combat in China. He intensified training with zeal, emphasizing strict discipline, bravery, aggressiveness, and thorough preparation. Japanese veterans characterized him as severe, bullish, short-tempered, hot-blooded, highly strung, unbending, and stubborn. Nonetheless, there was widespread respect for his realistic training program, maintained under firm, even violent, personal supervision. His men regarded Suetaka as a professional, a modern samurai who forged the division into superb condition. Privately, he was reputed for sensitivity and warmth; a Japanese phrase "yakamashii oyaji" captures the dual sense of stern father and martinet in his character. At the outset, however, Suetaka displayed little aggression. Although not widely known, he did not welcome the orders from army headquarters to deploy to the Tumen. Until late July, he remained somewhat opposed to the notion of dislodging the Soviets from the crest, a proposition arising from neither the division staff nor, initially, Suetaka himself. Colonel Sato noted that, for a week after reports of Soviet excavation at Changkufeng, the division's response was limited to preparations for a possible emergency, as they perceived the matter as a local issue best settled through diplomacy. Korea Army officers acknowledged that, around the time the Soviets consolidated their outpost strength at Changkufeng, an informal and personal telegram arrived in Seoul from a Kwantung Army Intelligence field-grade officer who specialized in Soviet affairs. If the Korea Army hesitated, the Kwantung Army would be obliged to eject the Russians; the matter could not be ignored. While the telegram did not demand a reply and struck several officers as presumptuous and implausible, the message was promptly shown to Koiso. Koiso was driven to immediate action, he wired Tokyo asserting that only the Korea Army could and would handle the incident. One staff officer recalled "We felt we had to act, out of a sense of responsibility. But we resented the Kwantung Army's interference." The Korea Army staff convened shortly after receipt of the unofficial telegram from Hsinking. Based on the latest intelligence from the division dated 13 July, the officers prepared an assessment for submission to the army commander. The hypotheses were distilled into three scenarios: The USSR, or the Far East authorities, desires hostilities. Conclusion: Slightly possible. The USSR seeks to restrain Japan on the eve of the pivotal operations in China: the major Japanese offensive to seize Hankow. Conclusion: Highly probable. The Posyet district commander is new in his post; by occupying the Changkufeng ridges, he would demonstrate loyalty, impress superiors, and seek glory. Conclusion: Possible. Late on 13 July or early on 14 July, Koiso approved the dispatch of a message to the vice minister of war, and the Kwantung Army chief of staff:  "Lake Khasan area lies in troublesome sector USSR has been claiming . . . in accordance with treaties [said Secret Message No. 913], but we interpret it to be Manchukuoan territory, evident even from maps published by Soviet side. Russian actions are patently illegal, but, considering that area does not exert major or immediate influence on operations [Japan] is intending and that China Incident is in full swing, we are not going to conduct counterattack measures immediately. This army is thinking of reasoning with Soviets and requesting pullback, directly on spot. . . . In case Russians do not accede in long run, we have intention to drive Soviet soldiers out of area east of Khasan firmly by use of force."  The message concluded with a request that the Tokyo authorities lodge a formal protest with the USSR, on behalf of Manchukuo and Japan, and guide matters so that the Russians would withdraw quickly. Dominant in Japanese high command thinking in 1938 was the China theater; the Changkufeng episode constituted a mere digression. A sequence of Japanese tactical victories had preceded the summer: Tsingtao fell in January; the Yellow River was reached in March; a "reformed government of the Republic of China" was installed at Nanking several weeks later; Amoy fell in early May; Suchow fell on the 20th. With these gains, northern and central fronts could be linked by the Japanese. Yet Chinese resistance persisted, and while public statements anticipated imminent Chinese dissension, private admissions acknowledged that the partial effects of Suchow's fall were ominous: control might pass from Chiang Kai-shek to the Communists, Chinese defiance might intensify, and Soviet involvement could ensue. A Hankow drive appeared desirable to symbolize the conclusion of the military phase of hostilities. The Japanese and their adversaries were in accord regarding the importance of the summer and autumn campaigns. Even after Suchow's fall, the government discouraged public insinuations that enemy resistance was collapsing; when Chiang addressed the nation on the first anniversary of hostilities, Premier Konoe prophetically proclaimed, "The war has just begun." Colonel Inada Masazum served as the Army General Staff's principal figure for the Changkufeng affair, occupying the position of chief of the 2nd Operations Section within the Operations Bureau in March 1938. A distinguished graduate of the Military Academy, Inada completed the War College program and held a combination of line, instructional, and staff assignments at the War College, the Army General Staff, and the War Ministry. He was recognized as a sharp, highly capable, and driveful personality, though some regarded him as enigmatic. Following the capture of Suchow, Imperial General Headquarters on 18 June ordered field forces to undertake operational preparations for a drive to seize the Wuhan complex. Inada favored a decisive move aimed at achieving a rapid political settlement. He acknowledged that Soviet intervention in 1938, during Japan's involvement in China, would have been critical. Although Japanese forces could still defeat the Chinese, an overextended Japanese Army might be fatally compromised against the Russians. Soviet assistance to China was already pronouncedly unwelcome. The Soviets were reported to possess roughly 20 rifle divisions, four to five cavalry divisions, 1,500 tanks, and 1,560 aircraft, including 300 bombers with a range of approximately 3,000 kilometers, enabling reach from Vladivostok to Tokyo. Soviet manpower in Siberia was likely near 370,000. In response, Japanese central authorities stressed a no-trouble policy toward the USSR while seeking to "wall off" the border and bolster the Kwantung Army as quickly as possible. Nevertheless, the envisaged correction of the strategic imbalance could not occur before 1943, given shortages in ammunition, manpower, and materiel across existing theaters in China. By the end of 1937 Japan had committed 16 of its 24 divisions to China, bringing the standing force to roughly 700,000. Army General Staff planners reallocated three ground divisions, intended for a northern contingency, from north to central China, even as the Kwantung Army operated from a less favorable posture. Attitudes toward the northern problem varied within senior military circles. While concern persisted, it was not universal. As campaigns in China widened, planning at the high command level deteriorated, propagating confusion and anxiety to field armies in China. The Japanese Navy suspected that the Army general staff was invoking the USSR as a pretext for broader strategic aims—namely, to provoke a more consequential confrontation with the USSR while the Navy contended with its own strategic rivalries with the Army, centered on the United States and Britain. Army leaders, however, denied aggressive intent against the USSR at that time. The Hankow plan encountered substantial internal opposition at high levels. Private assessments among army planners suggested that a two-front war would be premature given operational readiness and troop strength. Not only were new War Ministry officials cautious, but many high-ranking Army general staff officers and court circles shared doubts.  Aggressive tendencies, influenced by subordinates and the Kwantung Army, were evident in Inada, who repeatedly pressed Tada Shun, the deputy army chief of staff, to endorse the Wuhan drive as both necessary and feasible, arguing that the USSR would gain from Japan's weakening without incurring substantial losses. Inada contended that Stalin was rational and that time favored the USSR in the Far East, where industrial buildup and military modernization were ongoing. He argued that the Soviet purges impeded opportunistic ventures with Japan. He posited that Nazi Germany posed a growing threat on the western front, and thus the USSR should be avoided by both Japan, due to China and Russia, due to Germany. While most of the army remained engaged in China, Tada did not initially share Inada's views; only after inspecting the Manchurian borders in April 1938 did he finally align with Inada's broader vision, which encompassed both northern and Chinese considerations. During this period, Inada studied daily intelligence from the Kwantung Army, and after Lyushkov's defection in June, reports suggested the Soviets were following their sector commander's recommendations. Russian troops appeared at Changkufeng, seemingly prepared to dig in. Inada recollects his reaction: "That's nice, my chance has come." I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The simmering Soviet–Japanese border clashes centered on Changkufeng Hill near Lake Khanka, set within a broader history of contested frontiers dating to Qing and Tsarist treaties. Japan, prioritizing China, considered Changkufeng peripheral but ready to confront Soviet encroachment; Moscow aimed to consolidate border gains, with high-level war planning overlaying regional skirmishes. Conflict loomed over Manchuria.

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

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.

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.

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.