Age of Conquest: A Kings and Generals Podcast

Last time we spoke about Black Saterday and Operation Iron Fist. Conflict erupted in Shanghai on August 13, when Japanese marines disguised as civilians provoked Chinese guards, resulting in fierce gunfire and urban warfare. Both sides engaged in skirmishes around vital locations, with the Eight Character Bridge becoming a focal point. On August 14, air raids misfired catastrophically, killing over a thousand civilians in what became known as "Black Saturday." In an attempt to regain control, Chiang Kai-shek authorized Operation Iron Fist, a bold offensive targeting Japanese strongholds. The attack commenced early on August 17, involving coordinated assaults aimed at exploiting weak points in the enemy defenses. However, poor coordination, entrenched opposition, and the complexity of urban combat resulted in further devastating losses for the Chinese troops. By August 18, Operation Iron Fist had failed, with the Japanese reinforcing their positions and announcing a strategic shift towards expanded military engagement.   #158 The Battle of Shanghai Part 3: The Chinese Counteroffensive “Drive them into the Sea!” 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 August 18, the Japanese military reinforced their presence in Shanghai, shipping an additional 1,400 marines from Manchuria to bolster the ranks of the Japanese Shanghai Special Naval Landing Force or “SNLF”. Yes, all of you who don’t listen to my Pacific War week by week podcast are going to get a lot of acronym lessons soon. And yes, they are not quote en quote real marines, but like most telling these stories its easier to refer to them this way. This influx of troops was a significant escalation in the ongoing conflict, heightening tensions as the battle for control intensified. As the battle in Shanghai raged on, a growing sentiment emerged among Chinese leaders that crucial chances had been squandered. On August 18, Chiang Kai-shek sent his trusted aide, Deputy War Minister Chen Cheng, to confer with General Zhang Zhizhong at the front lines. They assessed the situation and agreed that instead of attacking the heavily fortified Hongkou area, they should redirect their focus to the Yangshupu district. The aim was to breach the defenses and split the Japanese forces along the Huangpu River. This strategic shift was precisely what the German military advisers and frontline commanders had anticipated, signaling a decisive move away from their earlier hesitance to engage within settlement boundaries. As attrition took its toll on the Chinese troops already committed in Shanghai, the responsibility for the offensive was placed on the newly arrived 36th Infantry Division, a unit highly trained by German forces. They were positioned to advance from the eastern edge of Hongkou, with two regiments tasked to march south toward the Huangpu. In the early hours of the 19th, two regiments of the 36th launched their long-planned attack, moving swiftly towards the front lines. The night was illuminated by the flames of sabotage and incendiary bombs, aiding visibility amid the chaos. However, the assault quickly faced significant challenges. Many of the Chinese soldiers were inexperienced, becoming easy targets for Japanese infantry positioned in rooftops and upper-story windows. In the absence of cover, some troops were forced to take shelter behind the fallen bodies of their comrades. For a moment, the Chinese troops felt a surge of hope, believing they could push the Japanese into the Huangpu River. General Zhang Fakui, observing from the opposite bank, envisioned a breakthrough. However, upon reaching Broadway, parallel to the river, they confronted a formidable barrier. High walls guarded the wharves, and even the largest artillery pieces struggled to breach the defenses. Attempts to scale the steel gate resulted in devastating fire from entrenched Japanese machine gunners, while fortified factories like the Gong Da Cotton Mill proved equally impenetrable. As the Chinese forces suffered under relentless bombardment, their momentum diminished. The 88th Infantry Division, previously effective, showed signs of disarray and hesitated to engage. Compounding their woes, Japanese reinforcements arrived, swelling their ranks to 6,300 well equipped marines. Despite these challenges, the Chinese committed to deploying their newly acquired British built Vickers tanks, a symbol of their efforts to modernize their military over the years. But with each hour, the balance of power tilted further in favor of the Japanese forces. Meanwhile the 87th Infantry Division was assigned two armored companies, yet it suffered catastrophic losses. The tanks, recently shipped from Nanjing, had crews untrained in coordinated assaults, and many were left without infantry support. The Chinese forces struggled to secure adjacent streets, allowing Japanese armor to outflank and destroy their tanks. The Japanese, too, faced coordination challenges between their armor and infantry, resulting in some of their tanks being annihilated by Chinese anti-tank weapons. On the 20th, General Zhang Zhizhong inspected the Yangshupu front and encountered a former student leading a tank company ready to attack the wharves. The tanks, hastily repaired and ill equipped for battle, faced fierce enemy fire, and the young officer expressed concern about the infantry's ability to keep pace. Despite Zhang's insistence that the assault must proceed, the attack ended in disaster as the tank company was decimated by shells from anchored vessels. The battle blended modern warfare with tactics reminiscent of earlier centuries. An officer named Wu Yujun managed a position during a Japanese cavalry attack on the 18th. After two unsuccessful assaults, Wu set an ambush that resulted in the annihilation of the Japanese riders. This incident illustrated the stark contrast on the battlefield where Chinese soldiers often confronted a technologically superior enemy while grappling with their own inexperience.  Many of the Chinese units arriving in Shanghai were very green, countless having never faced battle before, and their lack of experience proved costly in the initial days of fighting. Brigade Commander Fang Jing of the 98th Division observed that his soldiers constructed inadequate fortifications that crumbled under the Japanese 150mm howitzers. He lamented, “Often, the positions they built were too weak and couldn’t withstand the enemy’s artillery,”. On the 20th, 5 Chinese aircraft returned after yet another unsuccessful attack on the Japanese battleship Izumo, which remained anchored in the Huangpu. During their flight over western Zhabei, they encountered two Japanese seaplanes. One Chinese pilot broke formation, diving steeply to fire a brief machine-gun salvo, but his plane was quickly shot down, bursting into flames before crashing. The Chinese attacks had posed a significant threat to Japanese bombers, particularly the vulnerable Mitsubishi G3M medium aircraft targeting Shanghai and central China. Japan's First Combined Air Group suffered heavy losses, with half of its medium attack planes damaged or destroyed within the first three days of fighting. However, the Chinese pilots, largely inexperienced and inadequately trained, began to falter against the superior Japanese fighters, eventually withdrawing from the skies over Shanghai. Ground troops expressed frustration over the lack of effective air support, as they rarely saw their planes after the 20th, instead carrying out major troop movements only under the cover of darkness. The Japanese air superiority drastically affected operations on the ground, dictating when Chinese soldiers could eat and transport supplies. Without effective fighter protection and limited anti-aircraft capabilities, the Chinese troops were left exposed. Most of their anti-aircraft weaponry consisted of 20mm Solothurn guns that were ineffective against aircraft and were more often used against infantry. Officers hesitated to use these guns for fear of revealing their positions to the enemy.  By the morning of the 21st, the 36th Division had been relentlessly attacking the wharf area for over 48 hours, yet victory remained elusive. Although some tanks had infiltrated the wharf, they were met with dishearteningly strong Japanese defenses and a well-manned enemy presence. The commanders recognized that they had advanced too quickly without securing their flanks, and their reserves, which could have provided crucial support, remained in the rear. Reluctantly, they concluded that a withdrawal was necessary. The retreat was a painful acknowledgment that pushing the Japanese into the Huangpu River would not be as straightforward as hoped. Part of the Chinese failure stemmed from an inability to execute joint operations across different military branches. German advisors noted that artillery support for the forces in Yangshupu from the Pudong side was limited. In contrast, Japanese naval guns were actively providing support, significantly relieving the pressure on their marines. This imbalance resulted in heavy losses for the Chinese, with the 36th Division suffering over 2,000 casualties by the late 22nd. Meanwhile, Japanese naval aircraft attempted to impede the movement of additional Chinese troops to Shanghai by bombing the railway from Suzhou. Although several bridges were destroyed and railway stations sustained damage, the delays were minimal, offering some reassurance to Chinese commanders who understood that reinforcements were essential for a successful continuation of the battle. The light cruiser Jintsu, carrying the 3rd Division, set to land six miles north of Shanghai, while the 11th Division would disembark a dozen miles further up the Yangtze River. By the evening of the 21st, the task force arrived at the Yangtze River and the Saddle Islands off the river estuary. The soldiers had to transfer to smaller vessels capable of navigating the shallow waters of the Huangpu River.  On the 23rd, Matsui Iwane got aboard the light cruiser Yura and was greeted by Rear Admiral Chuichi Nagumo, then the commander of the 8th cruiser division. Yes, the same man who would be blamed for losing at Midway in 1942. The Japanese fleet had made a strategic sweep as far south as Hangzhou Bay the previous day to disrupt Chinese troop movements and force them to spread thin along the coast. However, with the landings imminent, it was clear the assault would happen at Wusong and Chuanshakou. Initially, Matsui preferred landing both divisions at Chuanshakou for a sweeping advance into the lightly defended countryside west of Shanghai, which would encircle tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers. The 3rd Fleet, however, proposed a bolder strategy: the 11th Infantry Division would proceed with the landing at Chuanshakou, while the 3rd Infantry Division would land at Wusong, directly confronting the heavily concentrated Chinese forces around Shanghai. This plan aimed to exert pressure from both the front and the rear, a tactic that could yield success but risked high casualties if faced with stiff Chinese resistance. Aware of the operation's risks, the naval officers sought to ease potential tensions with their army counterparts by offering over 500 elite marines to support the assault, preparing for what could be a pivotal moment in the campaign. Shortly after midnight on the 23rd, the marines designated as the primary assault wave at Wusong arrived in a convoy of steamers from Shanghai. Their arrival was eagerly anticipated, as they would spare the 3rd Division from being the first to land. As the naval artillery barrage reached a deafening climax, the boats glided across the smooth water towards the shore. Any time a Chinese machine gun opened fire, it drew immediate response from the Japanese gunners, swiftly silencing the threat. Meanwhile, trench mortars onshore targeted the advancing vessels, but their rounds fell harmlessly into the water without causing any damage. At 3:00 am, the first landing craft reached the bank, dropped anchor, and lowered its ramp. The marines waded ashore, climbing the 15 foot high dike to survey the terrain. Suddenly, machine gun fire erupted from a Chinese position just 50 yards away, cutting down several marines. Undeterred, the marines charged with fixed bayonets across the open field. An explosion marked the spot where a soldier had triggered a landmine, followed by more detonations, but there was no retreat; they pressed on, swarming over the Chinese trench and engaging in a brief yet fierce hand-to-hand struggle. Within moments, they had taken the position. The marines quickly cleared the area, paving a path to their immediate objective, a military road running parallel to the Huangpu River. While setting up defensive positions, the 3rd Division began to disembark at the water’s edge. By 8:00 a.m, the divisional command stepped ashore as the last unit to arrive. Meanwhile, naval pilots were busy bombing and strafing roads further inland to impede any enemy reinforcements. The landing had unfolded with remarkable success, marking a significant moment in the operation and setting the stage for greater advances by Japanese forces. Meanwhile the 11th division began setting foot on the beach north of Chuanshakou at 3:50 am. As the soldiers advanced towards the town's outskirts, they encountered only minimal resistance as Chuanshakou was defended by a single Chinese company.  Matsui was pleased with the outcome; everything had unfolded according to plan and, in fact, better than he had dared to hope. Casualties in both divisions were surprisingly low, amounting to little more than 40 soldiers. At 5:30 am, Zhang Zhizhong received an urgent phone call at his new headquarters in a small village near Nanxiang. On the line was Liu Heding, commander of the 56th Infantry Division, reporting that an enemy force of unknown size had landed near Chuanshakou. With heavy bombardment disrupting communications, details were scarce, but Zhang immediately recognized the gravity of the situation: a new front was opening, complicating his command significantly. Realizing he could not effectively manage the situation from Nanxiang with communications down, Zhang decided to head to the command post of the 87th Infantry Division in Jiangwan, a town closer to the landing area. By the time he arrived at the 87th Division's base, it was nearly 9:00 am. He was informed that the Japanese had not only landed at Chuanshakou but also at Wusong. Recognizing the urgency, he quickly dispatched half of the 87th Infantry Division and a regiment from the recently arrived Training Brigade, an elite unit fresh from Nanjing, to respond to the threat. Given that the 56th Infantry Division alone could not secure the area around Chuanshakou, Zhang assigned the 98th Infantry Division to defend most of the Yangtze riverbank under threat. He also dispatched the 11th Division, which had just arrived in the Shanghai area with Deputy War Minister Chen Cheng to move toward Luodian, a town just a few miles from the landing zone at Chuanshakou.  Meanwhile, the Japanese forces were advancing swiftly. While the main landing contingent engaged in fierce fighting for control of Chuanshakou, a small unit of a few hundred soldiers was dispatched down the road to Luodian. Marching under the scorching August sun, the reservists, weary from the trek, found little resistance upon reaching Luodian. They hastily set up camp without adequately preparing defenses, making them vulnerable targets. Later that afternoon, advance units of the 11th Infantry Division reached Luodian, shaken but determined to attack even after facing air raids on their journey. The ensuing skirmish was swift; within an hour, the Japanese were repelled. Back over at Wusong Hu Guobing received orders to push back the Japanese on August 21st. He led his regiment towards the Japanese lines, as his platoons dispersed further, dividing into smaller squads. Soon, the sharp crack and rattle of small arms fire resonated along the regiment's front. Battalion Commander Qin Shiquan, a graduate of the Central Military Academy, led two companies toward the enemy positions, taking care to remain unnoticed. When they drew close enough, he ordered his bugler to sound the charge. Then, raising his Mauser pistol, he turned to face his men and shouted, “Attack! Attack!” This sudden noise revealed his position, making it vulnerable. Japanese observers hidden nearby quickly relayed his coordinates to warships offshore. Within minutes, shells began to rain down on the unit with alarming accuracy. Amidst the storm of fire unleashed by the Japanese, all semblance of order disintegrated, and chaos ensued as each unit fought to survive. Hu Guobing spent most of the day dodging Japanese aircraft that circled overhead, waiting for targets to emerge. As Hu Guobing recalled “It felt as though the enemy could see everything. It was crucial not to act rashly. Our only real options were to take cover in a hole or hide behind a ridge”. The gunfire continued throughout the afternoon and did not relent until darkness began to fall. Only then could the soldiers breathe a little easier, grab a few bites of their field rations, and quench their parched throats with sips from their water canteens. Seizing the relative safety of night, they hurried to improve their positions, knowing that once dawn arrived, it would be too late; a shallow trench or inadequate camouflage could spell doom. Although it had been Chiang Kai-Shek’s decision to place Zhang Zhizhong and Feng Yuxiang in charge of Shanghai, now designated the 3rd War Zone, he was having regrets. In a telephone conversation with Feng Yuxiang shortly after the Japanese landings, Chiang emphasized the importance of monitoring the younger front-line commanders. He urged “Don’t hesitate to give them advice,”. Feng assured him that he would not hold back. He then recounted an anecdote about General Nogi Maresuke, who, during the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-1905, allegedly delegated all major decisions to his chief of staff. Feng told him “The frontline commanders possess courage and a fighting spirit. Their role is to take orders and engage in battle. Mine is to stay back, like Nogi, write a few poems, and wait for the inevitable,”. Chiang persistently insisted, “Regardless of the situation, don’t be shy. Share your insights with them.” “Of course,” Feng responded. “If I notice something amiss, I’ll address it without hesitation. You can count on me.” However, this assurance did little to calm Chiang’s concerns. A great concern was Zhang Zhizhong. Much of his rhetoric about fighting the Japanese seemed to lack substance. Zhang had not demonstrated the necessary resolve to launch attacks against the small Japanese forces in the city when decisive action could have turned the tide of the battle. With Japanese reinforcements firmly entrenched in two locations within the greater Shanghai area, it was now too late to pursue a quick victory over the enemy. Compounding the issue, Zhang appeared to spend an excessive amount of time making grandiose statements to the newspapers rather than focusing on the ground situation. Chiang’s frustration was palpable, and it was shared by his German advisors, who concurred that Zhang lacked the requisite “toughness” to confront Japanese resistance effectively. The decision to send Deputy War Minister Chen Cheng to the front was an early indication that Chiang was considering replacing Zhang. In a particularly humiliating twist, Zhang was not even informed of Chen Cheng’s appointment and learned about it indirectly through other field commanders. Fearing that he was being sidelined, Zhang Zhizhong hurried to the 3rd War Zone headquarters in Suzhou to assess the situation. While in Suzhou, called Chiang, whom began harshly criticizing him for being so far behind the front lines. “What are you doing in Suzhou? What are you doing in Suzhou?”. Zhang Zhizhong replied “Mr. Chairman, I’m back in Suzhou to discuss important strategic matters. Otherwise, I’m constantly at the front What’s the matter with you?” Chiang was incensed by this perceived disrespect. “What’s the matter with me? You ask me what’s the matter with me!” His voice rising to a hoarse shriek, Chiang Kai-shek abruptly hung up. At this point, Zhang must have had little doubt that his days as the chief field commander were numbered. The Japanese landings had accomplished their immediate objective of relieving pressure on the small marine forces holed up in Shanghai. As a result, the Chinese were forced to halt their attacks on Hongkou and Yangshupu and had to reconsider how to allocate their resources across various fronts. If the Japanese landing party grew large enough, the Chinese forces could risk becoming the target of a Japanese pincer movement. In essence, within a few days, they had shifted from an offensive posture to a defensive one. Against this backdrop, Chen Cheng,  leading the 15th Army Group, arrived in Suzhou on August 24th. His presence aimed to bolster resistance, and he was also there to familiarize himself with local conditions, as he was expected to take on a greater role at the front shortly. Chen's confident demeanor and readiness to overrule local commanders indicated that real authority already resided with him. While he agreed with Zhang Zhizhong's plans from the previous day to counter the landings, he deemed them insufficient given the threat posed by the fresh Japanese troops. Consequently, he ordered that more soldiers be redeployed from Shanghai proper to the landing zones. To counter the dire situation, Falkenhausen devised a plan aimed at reigniting enthusiasm for the offensive among the Chinese forces. During a meeting on the 25th, he proposed rallying all troops in the Luodian area to mount a coordinated attack from all sides against the Japanese landing force. Emphasizing the German preference for a decisive strike, he aimed to push the invaders back into the Yangtze. The assembled officers expressed their agreement with the plan. However, as dawn broke, the optimism from the night’s discussions began to wane. It had been 48 hours since the landings, and the Japanese army had solidified its foothold at Chuanshakou, rapidly approaching a point of strength that would make it nearly impossible to dislodge them. Tanks and artillery were assembled along the riverbank, while engineers constructed a pier to facilitate the faster unloading of troops and supplies. They had already established a bridgehead that extended 10 miles in length and reached a depth of five miles, initiating the construction of a road heading inland, an evident preparation for a major offensive. In a secret report to Chiang Kai-shek, Falkenhausen outlined the challenging situation as the Japanese consolidated their material advantages. “It should be noted that the enemy’s army and navy operate in close coordination. Although their land-based artillery is still relatively weak, this is offset by their robust naval artillery and ship-based aircraft,”. He further noted that the airfields on Chongming Island contributed to Japan’s now “complete air superiority, as a result, the main operations on our side should be executed after dark.”  From late August onward, most Chinese movements occurred after sunset. Only then could Chinese and Japanese infantry engage on more equal footing, without the overwhelming advantage provided by air support. Night became the great equalizer in the uneven battle for Shanghai. During the day, the relentlessly active Japanese forces seemed to be everywhere. They deployed rubber boats up small rivers to scout and disrupt. Their observation balloons hovered on the horizon, keeping a vigilant watch on the Chinese and swiftly scrambling aircraft upon detecting any movement. They combined technological superiority with a bravery that bordered on the suicidal; when faced with the prospect of capture, many Japanese soldiers preferred death. Following a fierce battle in the vicinity of Luodian, the Chinese retrieved the body of a sergeant major who had committed hara-kiri, while a gravely injured private was found attempting to slit his own throat with his bayonet. Luodian remained the immediate target for nearly all the Japanese forces in the area, facing the same Chinese units that had driven them out on August 23rd. The Chinese were well entrenched in and around the town, but they lacked the numbers to consider launching offensive operations against the Japanese at Chuanshakou. Instead, their priority was to strengthen their defenses. While waiting for the Japanese to resume the assault, they endured massive and sustained bombardment. Among the Chinese officers, there was a growing sense of crisis and a palpable fear that their defensive line could collapse at any moment. From their perspective, the Japanese appeared to be gaining momentum. However, the situation looked quite different from the Japanese invaders’ point of view. Japanese casualties began to rise as the Chinese reinforcements sent to the Luodian area started to make an impact. Two days after the landings, the number of dead and injured from the 11th Division had exceeded 400, and the toll continued to climb. Among the casualties was a senior staff officer who was killed moments after stepping off his landing craft at Chuanshakou, struck down by a Chinese aircraft that had evaded Japanese fighter cover. The death toll escalated so quickly that not all bodies could be cremated, as was customary for the Japanese; privates and junior officers were hastily buried instead. For an army that prided itself on honoring its fallen soldiers more than those left alive, this was a significant blow to morale. The 3rd Division faced different challenges in its sector. It was subjected to relentless attacks on the first day of the landing and had to repel two further major enemy assaults on the second day. Additionally, it experienced occasional shelling from Chinese artillery located on the Pudong side. The greatest threat, however, came from the division’s right flank. North of the landing zone lay Wusong Fortress, which had been guarding the approach to Shanghai since the wars against British and French forces in the mid-19th century. From their fortifications, Chinese infantry and artillery continuously targeted the Japanese as they disembarked from their boats and advanced inland. They also fired upon small vessels navigating up the Huangpu River, delivering supplies to the division. As the 3rd Division expanded its bridgehead in the days following the landing, Wusong Fortress remained a persistent threat, impeding the buildup of Japanese forces on shore. Compounding the Japanese sense of being encircled, the village of Yinhang to the south was also under Chinese control. This, combined with the steadily increasing number of Chinese defenders in front of the landing zone, created a challenging tactical situation for the Japanese. Although initial casualties had been lighter than the planners had feared, the number of Japanese losses began to rise. By the 25th, the 3rd Division, often referred to as the “Lucky” Division, reported over 300 accumulated casualties. Two days later, that number had escalated to 500, the majority of whom were killed in action. On the 28th, the 3rd Division was finally able to capture the village of Yinhang, freeing itself somewhat from the tactical constraints it had faced up to that point. On the same day, following an intense naval bombardment, the 11th Division launched an assault on Luodian. Leading the charge was Wachi Takaji, a 44-year-old regimental commander who surged forward with his sword drawn, personally dispatching several enemies along the way. The Chinese defenders were driven out of the town and fled down the roads leading inland. By noon, Luodian was firmly under Japanese control.  However August 29th marked a significant triumph for Chinese diplomacy, as Chiang Kai-shek’s signed a non-aggression treaty with the Soviet Union. The pact between Nanjing and Moscow laid the political and diplomatic groundwork for Soviet military aid to China while ensuring that the Soviet Union would not reach an agreement with Japan as long as hostilities continued. Initially, Chiang Kai-shek had been wary of Soviet intentions, expressing concerns in his diary on August 1st, when the diplomats were preparing the treaty, that he feared the Kremlin might use the agreement to pressure Japan into signing a similar pact with Moscow. However, following the signing, skepticism gave way to optimism. Three days after announcing the treaty, Chiang confidently predicted in a speech that the Soviet Union would eventually enter the war against Japan. Chiang would not be wrong about that, but it would only come in 1945, officially. Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin had a clear reason to encourage China to engage in a full-scale war with Japan: it would secure Russia’s western flank while he focused on the strategic challenges posed by a Europe dominated by Hitler. A conflict with China could drain Japanese resources, thereby reducing the threat from Asia in the long term. Exasperated British diplomats attempted to warn Chiang Kai-shek about what they perceived as a Soviet ruse, advising that the Russians “only have their own interests in mind.” Nevertheless, this did little to undermine the Chinese leader’s belief in the Soviet Union’s willingness to help. At a deeper cognitive level, there was a reason why Chiang Kai-shek and his associates clung to the belief that not only Soviet aid but also direct Soviet participation in the hostilities was imminent. This aligned with their expectations of how a war with Japan would unfold. The Chinese General Staff’s War Plan A, drafted in 1937, was based on the premise that a conflict with Japan would soon trigger a larger conflict involving either the Soviet Union or the United States. Thus, the key objective for China was to withstand the superior Japanese forces until relief could arrive from a more powerful ally, whether that be Russian or American. This strategy was not as naive as it might seem; it was based on the understanding that neither Moscow nor Washington would want to see Japanese power grow too strong on the Asian mainland. Despite the capture of Luodian and Yinhang, the Japanese continued to face significant challenges. Their grip on the Shanghai region remained highly precarious, relying on control of two isolated pockets north of Shanghai and a beleaguered garrison within the city. Due to their numerical inferiority, they were under intense pressure from Chinese forces. The landings at Wusong and Chuanshakou had initially bolstered the manpower in the Shanghai area by fewer than 8,000 troops, and although reinforcements were gradually arriving, the pace was slow. Matsui Iwane recognized the need for a more radical increase in troop levels to achieve a decisive outcome. By the end of August, he cabled Tokyo, arguing that to complete the operation successfully, he required a total of five divisions or at a minimum the release of the 11th Division’s Amaya Detachment, currently stationed in northeast China, to reunite with the division at Chuanshakou. The Japanese imperial staff and navy command responded mostly favorably, agreeing to redirect the detachment to Shanghai alongside several units of the elite marines. One week after the landings, Wusong Fort continued to pose a significant problem for the 3rd Division and the navy, which was responsible for supplying the division. Chinese artillery fire made anchoring near the landing zone a perilous endeavor, resulting in several naval officers being killed when caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. At times, the shelling was so severe that vessels had to interrupt their operations and retreat to a berth in the middle of the Huangpu River, unloading only part of their supplies. Matsui now planned for the 3rd Division to launch a frontal assault on Wusong, while the 11th Division would maintain a support role, dispatching only one regiment to assist. The attack commenced at 10:00 am on August 31rd. Following an intensive naval and aerial bombardment involving 30 planes, a regiment from the 3rd Division boarded landing craft, sailed down the Huangpu River, and landed on the riverbank north of Wusong. Throughout the afternoon and into the evening, the soldiers engaged in fierce skirmishes with scattered Chinese units in front of Wusong in preparation for a final entry into the city. Meanwhile, the Asama Detachment from the 11th Division initiated its part of the offensive by marching along the bank of the Yangtze toward Shizilin. On the morning of September 1st, the Japanese tightened their grip on Wusong. The regiment from the 3rd Division seized a hamlet west of Wusong and readied for an assault on the town itself. The defending Chinese forces put up strong resistance, and it was not until late afternoon that the Japanese made any significant progress, aided by artillery fire from their ships. The Asama Detachment experienced somewhat greater success that day, successfully capturing the fort at Shizilin in the afternoon. The Japanese launched their final offensive against Wusong at dawn on the 2nd. To their surprise, the fort fell with relative ease. By 10:00 am, Matsui saw the Rising Sun flag hoisted over Wusong. “I felt boundless gratification,” he noted in his diary.  With the fall of Wusong, the town of Baoshan became the last major obstacle to uninterrupted Japanese control of the riverbank, stretching from Chuanshakou to the outskirts of Shanghai. The fort at Baoshan also posed a significant threat to Japanese naval operations due to its strategic location at the confluence of the Yangtze and Huangpu rivers. Chiang Kai-shek fully recognized the importance of Baoshan and ordered a battalion of the 98th Infantry Division to hold the town at all costs. Baoshan had one notable advantage: like many ancient Chinese towns, it was encircled by a thick city wall that had historically helped fend off invaders and still served its defensive purpose well. The Japanese were acutely aware that Baoshan favored defense, and even a small contingent of Chinese forces could potentially hold out for an extended period.  On the 4th, the 3rd Division sluggishly advanced toward Baoshan. Around mid-afternoon, an artillery unit arrived to assist by bombarding the city wall. Despite this support, the Japanese soldiers, sent in waves to scale the wall, suffered significant casualties and failed to penetrate the defenses by nightfall. At noon on September 5, Japanese bombers launched an air raid on Baoshan, while naval artillery rained shells indiscriminately over the town's gray roofs. The land attack began an hour later when Japanese tanks advanced toward the town gates. The Japanese pressed the Chinese defenders into a shrinking perimeter. By sunset, the defenders were left with only 100 soldiers. The night passed without incident, as the Japanese refrained from attacking without air support, but everyone knew that dawn would herald the end. Just as the sun rose above the horizon, the assault resumed. As the city neared its fall, the defending commander Yao Ziqing ordered a soldier to escape and report the situation to his superiors. Unnoticed by the Japanese, the soldier scaled a wall and fled into the surrounding countryside, becoming the sole survivor of the battle. He carried with him a message from the battalion: “We are determined to stay at our posts and to continue fighting the enemy until each and every one of us is killed.” 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. Despite initial Chinese hopes for a counteroffensive by the newly arrived 36th Infantry Division, their inexperience and poor coordination led to heavy losses. As the Japanese gained reinforcements, they executed strategic landings at Chuanshakou and Wusong, overwhelming Chinese defenses. Amidst escalating casualties, Chinese troops struggled to maintain morale. However, their resolve to fight persisted, even as defeat loomed over the besieged city and its defenders.

Last time we spoke about the Oyama Incident and decision to fight at Shanghai. In July 1937, escalating tensions between Japan and China erupted into war after the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. As conflict spread, Chinese leader Chiang Kai-shek, believing in his nation's resilience, called for unity to resist Japanese aggression. A pivotal moment occurred on August 9 at Hongqiao Airport, where a violent confrontation left several Japanese soldiers dead. The circumstances remained murky, with both sides blaming each other, further inflaming hostilities. Despite attempts at negotiation, the military standoff intensified, leading to a consensus that war was imminent. Chiang mobilized troops to Shanghai, a crucial city for both strategic and symbolic reasons, determined to demonstrate that China could defend its sovereignty. The Chinese forces, under Generals Zhang Fukai and Zhang Zhizhong, faced logistical challenges but aimed to strike first against the increasingly aggressive Japanese military. On August 12, both nations prepared for conflict, leading to a drastic escalation.  #157 The Battle of Shanghai Part 2: Black Saturday and Operation Iron Fist 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 Friday, August 13 of 1937, the residents of Shanghai began enduring the sounds of rifle fire and machine gun salvos, punctuated by the distant booms of artillery.  Members of the Japanese marines, disguised in civilian clothes and posing as rowdy thugs, boisterous ronin, arrived at barricades manned by the Peace Preservation Corps at the northern edge of Yangshupu around 9:15 a.m. They began to provoke the Chinese guards with loud taunts and jeers. When the Chinese fired a warning shot into the air, the Japanese retaliated with deadly intent. The Chinese responded in kind, resulting in a lethal exchange. From that moment on, the situation was beyond control. As the day progressed, nervous skirmishes continued throughout the northern part of Shanghai. Chinese commanders dispatched patrols to conduct probing attacks, hoping to identify weak points in the Japanese defenses and push them back wherever possible. Meanwhile, their Japanese counterparts rushed to occupy key positions outside their main line of defense, aiming to gain an advantageous position should their adversaries launch a larger offensive. Small bands of soldiers from both sides maneuvered along narrow alleys to minimize the risk of detection; however, whenever they encountered each other, the results were deadly. In the western sector of the front line, where the Chinese Army's newly arrived 88th Infantry Division was preparing its positions, the center of activity was the headquarters of the Japanese marines near Hongkou Park. This location resembled a fortress, featuring a massive four-story structure shielded from air and artillery bombardment by a double roof of reinforced concrete. The building, which encompassed a large inner courtyard, occupied two city blocks and could accommodate thousands of troops at once. Highly visible, it represented both a significant military threat and a symbol of Japan’s presence in Shanghai. The Chinese were acutely aware of their objective: they had to eradicate it. The Sichuan North road lies south between the marine headquarters and the Japanese section of the International Settlement. This road became the scene of frantic activity from the first day of battle. Japanese armored cars and motorcycle patrols, with machine guns mounted on sidecars, sped up and down the otherwise deserted street, while trench mortars positioned along the pavement lobbed grenades into Zhabei to the west. As columns of smoke rose into the sky from buildings in the Chinese district, Japanese officers squeezed into a narrow conning tower atop the marine headquarters, watching the bombardment's results through field glasses. Reports of Chinese snipers stationed in the upper floors of buildings along the road prompted Japanese squads, led by sword-wielding officers, to carry out door-to-door searches. Suspects were unceremoniously dragged away to an uncertain fate. Not a single civilian was visible in the area; everyone stayed indoors, behind closed windows and drawn curtains. On the afternoon of August 13, the Eight Character Bridge, located west of the marine headquarters, became the site of one of the battle's first major engagements. The bridge, measuring just 60 feet in length and spanning a minor creek, was deemed by both sides to have significant tactical importance. The Chinese commanders viewed it as a crucial route for advancing into the Hongkou area, believing that if the bridge fell into Japanese hands, it would be like a "piece of bone stuck in the throat." At around noon, Major Yi Jin, a battalion commander of the 88th Infantry Division, led a couple of hundred men from around the North Railway Station toward Eight Character Bridge. When the soldiers reached their objective at about 3:00 p.m., they spotted a small Japanese unit that had just arrived across the creek and was setting up defensive positions. The Chinese opened fire and managed to secure the bridge, prompting the Japanese to launch a brief artillery bombardment that resulted in several Chinese casualties. Gunfire near the bridge continued intermittently until 9:00 p.m., when a fragile silence fell over the area. Further to the east, in the 87th Infantry Division's sector, the day was also characterized by frantic maneuvering, punctuated by lengthy bursts of violence. Chinese reconnaissance parties infiltrated enemy-held areas, making their way to the Japanese Golf Club near the Huangpu River, where they began shooting at workers busy preparing the makeshift airfield. As the first volleys from the Chinese snipers rang out, clouds of dust filled the air, causing the workers to hastily seek cover. Japanese soldiers stationed in the clubhouse immediately returned fire, throwing off the snipers' aim. After about an hour, two Japanese vessels moored in the Huangpu River, the destroyer Run and the gunboat Seta were called in to assist the Japanese marines facing the 87th Infantry Division on land. Four- and six-inch shells screamed across the sky, exploding in the Chinese districts to the north. Shanghai University was also shelled, as the Japanese troops on land believed it had been occupied by Chinese soldiers. Ultimately, the last remaining staff members, two Americans, were forced to flee the campus. The naval artillery had come to the aid of the beleaguered infantry onshore, a scene that would be repeated continually in the days and weeks to come. Late that evening, Chiang Kai-shek finally ordered his military commanders to “divert the enemy at sea, block off the coast, and resist landings at Shanghai” Even before the mobilization of troops began, panic swept through Shanghai. Meanwhile, the city’s waterfront took on an increasingly ominous tone. The China Daily News wrote “Arms, ammunition, and supplies streamed from several Japanese cruisers and destroyers onto the O.S.K. wharf in what appeared to be an unending flow. Additionally, a large detachment of soldiers in full marching gear disembarked, while a cruiser, the Idzumo, two destroyers, and nine gunboats arrived shortly before.” Zhang Zhizhong, the commander of the left wing, finally received the orders he wished to hear. Zhang intended to deploy all available troops in a bold effort to eliminate the Japanese presence once and for all, following the strategy recommended by the Germans. However, the plan had a significant weakness. The assault was to focus on the marine headquarters and the rest of the Hongkou salient while deliberately avoiding combat within the formal borders of the International Settlement. This decision was made as a concession to international public opinion and was politically sound. However, from a military perspective, it was nearly suicidal and greatly increased the risks associated with the entire operation. The Hongkou area represented the most heavily fortified position along the entire front. The marine headquarters was at the center of a dense network of heavy machine gun positions, protected by barbed wire, concrete emplacements, and walls of sandbags. On Saturday, August 14th, the Nationalist military command decided to target one of the most significant Japanese naval assets in Shanghai: the Izumo, anchored with support ships on the Huangpu River in the city center. Shortly before 11:00 a.m., five Chinese planes appeared over the rooftops, flying toward the river and the Japanese vessels. The aircraft released their bombs, but all missed their target, with several detonating on the wharves, demolishing buildings and sending shrapnel flying through the air. In response, the Japanese battleships unleashed a massive barrage, further endangering those unfortunate enough to live or work in the area as shell fragments rained down with deadly force. At 11:20 a.m., another Chinese air raid occurred, this time involving three planes, once again targeting the Izumo. However, for two of the pilots, something went horribly wrong. “From one of the four monoplanes, four aerial torpedoes were seen to drop as they passed over the Bund, far from their intended target... Two others fell on Nanking Road.” Either the pilot misjudged the target, or there was a malfunction with the release mechanism. Regardless of the cause, the bombs landed in one of the city’s busiest civilian areas, where thousands were walking, shopping, and enjoying a hot August Saturday. At 4:46 p.m., the public health department’s work diary noted, “Palace Hotel hit! Many injured and dead in street! Nanking Road opposite Cathay Hotel.” A reporter vividly captured the horror of the scene: “A bomb arced through the air, struck the Palace Hotel with a glancing blow, and unleashed indescribable carnage. As the high explosive fumes slowly lifted, a scene of dreadful death emerged. Flames from a blazing car danced over distorted bodies. Bodies wrapped in coolie cloth lay in shapeless heaps at the entrances to the main doorways and arcades of the Palace and Cathay hotels, their heads, legs, and arms separated from smashed masses of flesh. The corpse of a Chinese policeman lay dead in his tracks, shrapnel lodged in his head, and a disemboweled child was nearby.” To make matters worse, another pilot mistakenly released his bomb over Avenue Edward VII, another major shopping street. When the numbers were finally tallied, over 1,000 people, both Chinese and foreign had been killed. The bombs struck the International Settlement, a zone that was politically neutral and presumed safe. Hundreds of civilians were killed culminating in what would soon be referred to as “Black Saturday” or “Bloody Saturday.” By the time these tragedies unfolded, the Battle of Shanghai had already entered its second day.  Zhang Zhizhong’s men prepared their positions for most of the day, then launched their attack late in the afternoon. Intense fighting erupted in the few hours before sunset, and it quickly became clear that the 88th Infantry Division was encountering resistance that was tougher than expected. In addition to the direct fire from entrenched Japanese positions, the attackers were bombarded by the Third Fleet's powerful artillery, which was awe-inspiring even when it employed only a fraction of its total strength of 700 pieces. However, the Chinese infantry lacked proper training in the use of heavy weaponry against fortified enemy positions. Their heavier guns, which could have made a significant difference, were held too far in the rear and missed their targets too easily, as inexperienced crews used flawed coordinates from observers who were not close enough to the action. Additionally, some of the Japanese positions had such thick defensive walls that it was questionable whether even the most powerful weaponry in the Chinese arsenal, the 150 mm howitzers, could do more than merely dent them. These tactics resulted in extraordinarily heavy losses for the Chinese, including among senior ranks. Around 5:00 p.m., Major General Huang Meixing, the 41-year-old commander of the 88th Infantry Division's 264th Brigade, was leading an attack near the marine headquarters. His divisional commander, Sun Yuanliang, attempted to reach him via field phone, but he was forced to wait. When he finally managed to get through to Huang, he cracked a rare joke: “It took so long, I thought you were dead.” Just minutes later, as if fate wanted to punish Sun Yuanliang for his black humor, Huang Meixing's command post was struck by an artillery shell, killing him instantly. Shock spread through the ranks as the news circulated, recalled Wu Ganliao, a machine gunner in the 88th Division. “Brigade Commander Huang was a fair-minded person, and he showed real affection for his troops. It was sad new”. Huang was by no means an exceptional case; Chinese officers died in large numbers from the very first day. One regiment lost seven company commanders in a single short attack. Several factors contributed to the high incidence of death among senior ranks. One reason was the ethos among some officers to lead from the front in an effort to instill courage in their men. However, leading from the rear could also be highly risky in urban combat, where opposing forces were often just yards apart, and the maze-like environment created by multi-story buildings and narrow alleys led to a fluid situation where the enemy could be just as likely behind as in front. Moreover, soldiers on both sides deliberately targeted enemy officers, perhaps more so than in other conflicts, because rigid leadership hierarchies placed a premium on decapitating the opposing unit's command. However, the massive fatality rates among officers, and even more so among the rank and file, were primarily the result of Chinese forces employing frontal assaults against a well-armed, entrenched enemy.The men who were dying by the hundreds were China’s elite soldiers, the product of years of effort to build a modern military. They represented the nation’s best hope for resisting Japan in a protracted war. Nevertheless, on the very first day of battle, they were being squandered at an alarming and unsustainable rate. After just a few hours of offensive operations with minimal gains, Chiang Kai-shek decided to cut his losses. In a telegram, he commanded Zhang Zhizhong: “Do not carry out attacks this evening. Await further orders.”In the weeks leading up to the outbreak of the battle of Shanghai, Chiang Kai-shek received a parade of leaders from various provinces eager to participate in the upcoming fight. After years of the Warlord nonsense , a new sense of unity began to emerge among them for the first time. All of these factions proclaimed they would lend their troops to his leadership if he pledged them against Japan. As a sign of his sincerity, Chiang decided to appoint the position of overall commander in Shanghai to one of his longest-standing rivals, our old friend, the finger nails inspector, Feng Yuxiang. This was a political savvy move directed at the Communists, trying to earn their favor.  Feng Yuxiang did not hesitate when offered the command. “As long as it serves the purpose of fighting Japan, I’ll say yes, no matter what it is.” His appointment was announced just as the first shots were fired in Shanghai. Feng was about a decade older than his direct subordinates, which Chiang considered an advantage. He desired someone who was both composed and prudent to counterbalance the fiery tempers of the frontline commanders, as Chiang put it“ The frontline commanders are too young. They’ve got a lot of courage, but they lack experience.” Feng moved his command post to a temple outside Suzhou in mid August. Almost immediately afterward, he visited Zhang Zhizhong, who had established his command near the Suzhou city wall. At that time, Zhang was just beginning to realize how formidable the Japanese resistance in Shanghai truly was. His staff started to notice troubling signs of his deteriorating health, sensing that sickness and exhaustion were taking a toll on his ability to stay upright and effectively lead the battle. Perhaps this feeling of being overwhelmed was why he failed to undertake basic tasks, such as providing adequate protection from air attacks. Meanwhile, Shanghai society responded to the sudden outbreak of war. In July, the city’s residents worked, ate, drank, and played as they had for decades. Beginning in August, however, they had to entirely remake their lives. Local institutions began to relocate; by late September, it was announced that four local universities would open joint colleges with institutions in China’s interior. In the country’s premier commercial city, business was being devastated. “Like a nightmare octopus flinging cruel tentacles around its helpless victims,” the North-China Daily News reported, “the local hostilities are slowly strangling Shanghai’s trade.” A shopkeeper lamented, “We obtain a lot of business, of course, from tourists who visit Shanghai. What tourists are there these days?” For the foreigners in Shanghai, the war was seen as a violent diversion, but nothing truly dangerous, at least, that’s what they thought. For the Chinese, however, life was unraveling. As the fighting intensified around the Japanese district, thousands of refugees poured into the streets, heading for Suzhou Creek and the Garden Bridge, the only link to the International Settlement that remained open. It was a chaotic and merciless stampede, where the weak were at a severe disadvantage. “My feet were slipping… in blood and flesh,” recalled Rhodes Farmer, a journalist for the North China Daily News, as he found himself in a sea of people struggling to escape Hongkou. “Half a dozen times, I knew I was walking on the bodies of children or old people sucked under by the torrent, trampled flat by countless feet.” Near the creek, the mass of sweating and panting humanity was nearly uncontrollable as it funneled toward the bridge, which was a mere 55 feet wide. Two Japanese sentries were almost overwhelmed by the crowd and reacted as they had been trained, with immediate, reflexive brutality. One of them bayoneted an old man and threw the lifeless body into the filthy creek below. This act of violence did not deter the other refugees, who continued to push toward the bridge, believing they were heading toward the safety of the International Settlement. Little did they know, they were moving in the wrong direction, towards the horrific slaughter of innocent civilians that would mark the entire Shanghai campaign. The American advisor Claire Chennault had been in the air since the early hours of August 14. After only a few hours of sleep at his base in Nanjing, he jumped into a lone, unarmed fighter to observe the Chinese air raid as a neutral party. The night before, he had been at the Nanjing Military Academy, in the company of Chiang Kai-shek and his wife Soong Mei-ling. That night, as war loomed, Soong Mei-ling in tears said “They are killing our people!” Chennault asked “what will you do now?”. She replied “We will fight,”. Chennault was the one who suggested bombing the ships on the Huangpu River because of the artillery support they provided to the Japanese infantry. Since there was no Chinese officer with the expertise to prepare such an operation, Soong Mei-ling had asked Chennault to take over. Although he was completely unprepared for this new role, he felt a growing affinity for China, fueled by excitement at the prospect of contributing to their fight. Eleanor B. Roosevelt, the wife of US President Franklin D. Roosevelt, was in Shanghai at the time of the bombing and was horrified by the loss of innocent life. She sent a letter to Japan's premier, Prince Konoye, urging him to seek ways to minimize the risk of Chinese air raids, which she argued were caused by the presence of Japan's military in the Shanghai area. The Japanese did not respond. However, the day after her letter, the Izumo was moved from its anchorage near the Japanese Consulate to the middle of the Huangpu River. The cruiser remained close enough to contribute its artillery to the fighting inland, but far enough away to significantly reduce the danger to civilians in the city. The 15th was surreal, even after thousands had been killed in battle, the fighting in China remained an undeclared war as far as the Japanese government was concerned, and it committed forces only in a piecemeal fashion. The Japanese Cabinet continued to refer to events in Shanghai and further north near Beijing as “the China Incident.” However, euphemisms were not enough to disguise the reality that Shanghai was becoming a significant problem. In the early hours of the 15th, a Japanese Cabinet meeting decided to send army reinforcements to the hard-pressed marines in Shanghai, leading to the deployment of the 3rd and 11th Divisions. The two divisions were to form the Shanghai Expeditionary Force, a unit resurrected from the hostilities of 1932. Many of the soldiers sent to war were reservists in their late twenties and early thirties who had long since returned to civilian life and were poorly disciplined. In their habitual disdain for the Chinese, Japanese leaders figured that this would be more than enough to deal with them. Underestimating the foe would soon prove to be a mistake they would repeat again and again in the coming weeks and months. To lead the force, the Japanese leaders brought out of retirement 59-year-old General Matsui Iwane, a veteran of the 1904-1905 Russo-Japanese War. Matsui was a slight man, weighing no more than 100 pounds, with a large 19th century mustache and a palsy affecting his right side. He was not an accidental choice; he knew China well and had been an acquaintance of Sun Yat-sen.  Hongkou or “Little Tokyo” had become an area under siege. Surrounded by hostile Chinese troops on three sides, its only link to the outside world was the dock district along the Huangpu River. From the first day of the battle, the area was bombarded with Chinese mortar shells, prompting an exodus among Japanese residents, some of whom had lived in Shanghai for years. An increasingly common sight was kimono-clad women carrying heavy loads as they made their way to the wharfs to board ferries taking them back to Japan. Hongkou, said visiting Japanese correspondent Hayashi Fusao, “was a dark town. It was an exhausted town.” Those who remained in “Little Tokyo,” mostly men forced to stay behind to look after their businesses, tried to continue their lives with as little disruption to their normal routines as possible. However, this was difficult, given the constant reminders of war surrounding them: rows of barbed wire and piles of sandbags, soldiers marching from one engagement to another, and the sounds of battle often occurring just a few blocks away. “Every building was bullet-marked, and the haze of gunpowder hung over the town,” wrote Hayashi. “It was a town at war. It was the August sun and an eerie silence, burning asphalt, and most of all, the swarm of blue flies hovering around the feet.” It seemed Vice Admiral Hasegawa Kiyoshi, the commander of the Japanese 3rd Fleet, had bitten off more than he could chew in aggressively expanding operations in the Shanghai area. August 16th saw repeated Chinese attacks, placing the Japanese defenders under severe pressure, stretching their resources to the limit. Rear Admiral Okawachi Denshichi, who headed the Shanghai marines, had to hastily commit reserves, including irreplaceable tanks, to prevent a Chinese breakthrough. That day Hasegawa sent three telegrams to his superiors, each sounding more desperate than the last. After his second telegram, sent around 7:00 pm,  warning that his troops could probably hold out for only 6 more days, the Naval Command ordered the marine barracks at Sasebo Naval Base in southern Japan to dispatch two units of 500 marines each to Shanghai. Following Hasegawa’s 3rd telegram later that night, the navy decided to send even more reinforcements. Two additional marine units, consisting of a total of 1,400 soldiers waiting in Manchuria for deployment at Qingdao, were ordered to embark for Shanghai immediately. The Chinese, however, did not feel that things were going their way. The battle continued to be much bloodier than anyone had anticipated. Throwing infantry en masse against fortified positions was the only feasible tactic available to an army rich in manpower confronting an adversary with a clear technological advantage. Yet, this approach turned the battle into a contest of flesh against steel, resulting in tremendous loss of life. Chiang Kai-shek was losing patience. After several days of fighting, his troops had still not succeeded in dislodging the Japanese from the streets of Shanghai. The Japanese marines entrenched in the Hongkou and Yangshupu areas proved to be a harder nut to crack than he or his generals had expected. At a meeting with his divisional commanders, Chiang ordered a massive attack to be launched in the early morning of August 17. The troops were to utilize more firepower and be better prepared than they had been for the assault three days earlier. Codenamed Operation Iron Fist, it was the most ambitious Chinese offensive in the first critical week of the Shanghai campaign. Colonel Hans Vetter, the advisor assigned to the 88th Division, played a key role in planning the offensive. He aimed to employ “Stosstrupp” or “stormtrooper” shock troop tactics that the Germans had effectively used during the Great War. After an intense artillery bombardment, a small, elite group of determined, well-armed men was to punch through the Japanese lines and fight their way deep into the enemy camp before the defenders had a chance to recover from the initial surprise. This procedure was to be followed by both the 88th Division moving in from the west, targeting the area south of Hongkou Park, and the 87th Division conducting a parallel operation from the east. Zhang Zhizhong recognized a window of opportunity while he still enjoyed a significant, but likely temporary, advantage against the Japanese. This opportunity had to be seized before reinforcements arrived. However, the odds were not favorable. Urban combat with modern weaponry of unprecedented lethality was a costly affair, especially when the enemy had the upper hand in the sky. Japanese airplanes constantly threatened the Chinese positions, carrying out relentless sorties throughout the day. The Chinese Air Force remained a factor, but it was uncertain how much longer it would hold out against the more experienced Japanese pilots and their superior, more maneuverable aircraft. The growing Japanese presence overhead, supported by both shipborne planes and aircraft based on airstrips on Chongming Island in the Yangtze Delta, greatly complicated any major movements on the ground. Despite these challenges, the Chinese Army continued its troop build-up in the Shanghai area. The 98th Infantry Division arrived on August 15 and placed one brigade, half its strength, at the disposal of the 87th Infantry Division, ensuring that the division's rear area was covered during Operation Iron Fist. Operation Iron Fist kicked off as planned at 5:00 am on the 17th. Utilizing all available firepower, the 87th and 88th Infantry Divisions launched simultaneous assaults against stunned and bewildered Japanese defenders. In line with the Stosstrupp approach of rapid penetration, Zhang Zhizhong introduced a new tactical principle, prompted by the severe losses during the first few days of fighting. Forces under his command were to identify gaps in the Japanese defenses and exploit them, rather than launch massive, costly, and most likely futile attacks on heavily fortified positions. Once an enemy stronghold was spotted, the main forces would circumvent it and leave just enough troops to keep it pinned down. Chen Yiding, a regimental commander of the 87th Infantry Division, played a pivotal role in the assault. His soldiers, each equipped with provisions for two days, made good progress during the first hours of Iron Fist, leveraging their local knowledge and moving with the slippery dexterity of alley cats. They would enter a building on one street, knock down the wall inside, and exit onto the next street, or they would throw down beams from rooftop to rooftop, sneaking as quietly as possible from one block to another without being noticed by those on the ground. They proved elusive targets for the Japanese, who expected them to come from one direction, only to be attacked from another. Nevertheless, changing the tactical situation from the previous days was not enough. The attackers encountered well-prepared defenses that sometimes could not be circumvented, resulting in significant losses from the outset of the assault. An entire battalion of the 88th Division was wiped out while trying to take a single building. Despite their sacrifices, there was no major breakthrough anywhere along the Japanese defense lines. This was partly due to strong support from Japanese naval artillery stationed along the Huangpu River and partly a reflection of poor coordination between Chinese infantry and artillery.Equally detrimental to the Chinese cause was their careful avoidance, during the first days of combat in Shanghai, of fighting inside the International Settlement or even in the predominantly Japanese part of the settlement, in order to avoid angering the outside world and swaying international opinion against them. This approach frustrated their German advisors. “It was obvious that the attacking troops had been told to engage only enemies standing on Chinese territory, not the ones inside the international areas,” the Germans wrote, with an almost audible sigh of regret in their after-action report. This frustration was shared by several Chinese officers at the frontline. “We are much handicapped by the demarcation of the foreign areas,” the adjutant to a divisional commander told a Western reporter. “We could have wiped out the enemy if it had not been for orders from the Central Government and our commander to avoid causing damage to foreign lives and to give them adequate protection.” The presence of the large foreign community primarily played into Japanese hands. Many of Chiang Kai-shek’s officers believed that if the Chinese had been able to move through the French Concession and the International Settlement to attack the Japanese from the rear, they could have won easily. Zhang Fakui would later say “Without the protection provided by the foreign concessions, they would have been wiped out,”. At the end of the day, the Japanese emerged victorious. Their defense proved stronger, as it had for four long years on the Western Front during the Great War. The challenge facing the Japanese was tough, but at least it was straightforward and uncomplicated: they had to hold on to Hongkou and Yangshupu while waiting for reinforcements to arrive. They proved adept at this task. In many cases, Chinese soldiers found themselves fighting for the same objectives they had targeted when the battle for Shanghai began several days earlier. By August 18, the Chinese attack had been called off. Operation Iron Fist had proven to be a costly endeavor for the Chinese, who endured heavy casualties in the vicious urban fighting. The Japanese, on the other hand, suffered approximately 600 casualties, of which 134 were fatalities, according to the Official Gazette. The Japanese marine units dispatched from Manchuria on August 16, the day of crisis for their compatriots in Shanghai, arrived in the city during the morning of August 18 and were immediately thrown into battle. A few hours later, the Japanese Cabinet announced the formal end of its policy of non-expansion in China, which, by that time, had already been a hollow shell for several weeks. “The empire, having reached the limit of its patience, has been forced to take resolute measures,” it stated. “Henceforth, it will punish the outrages of the Chinese Army, thereby spurring the Chinese government to self-reflect.” 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 August 13, Japanese marines, disguised as civilians, provoked Chinese guards, leading to mutual gunfire. The fierce urban fighting escalated, especially at the strategically vital Eight Character Bridge. Despite determined Chinese assaults, heavy losses ensued as they struggled against well-fortified Japanese positions. As artillery and air strikes rained down, civilian casualties soared, culminating in the infamous "Black Saturday," followed by the failed Operation Iron Fist.    

Last time we spoke about Operation Chahar. In July 1937, the tensions between Japan and China erupted into a full-scale conflict, ignited by the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. Following a series of aggressive Japanese military maneuvers, Chiang Kai-shek, then enjoying a brief respite at Kuling, learned of the escalating clashes and prepared for battle. Confident that China was primed for resistance, he rallied his nation, demanding that Japan accept responsibility and respect China’s sovereignty. The Japanese launched their offensive, rapidly capturing key positions in Northern China. Notably, fierce battle ensued in Jinghai, where Chinese soldiers, led by Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan, valiantly defended against overwhelming forces using guerrilla tactics and direct assaults. Their spirit was symbolized by a courageous “death squad” that charged the enemy, inflicting serious casualties despite facing dire odds. As weeks passed, the conflict intensified with brutal assaults on Nankou. Chinese defenses, though valiant, were ultimately overwhelmed, leading to heavy casualties on both sides. Despite losing Nankou, the indomitable Chinese spirit inspired continued resistance against the Japanese invaders, foreshadowing a long, brutal war that would reshape East Asia.   #156 The Battle of Shanghai Part 1: The Beginning of the Battle of Shanghai 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 August 9, a bullet riddled sedan screeched to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the Hongqiao airport along Monument Road. The gruesome scene on the dashboard revealed that one of the victims had died in the car. He had been dragged out and subjected to brutal slashing, kicking, and beating until his body was a mangled mess. Half of his face was missing, and his stomach had been cut open, exposing the sickly pallor of his intestines, faintly glimmering in the night. The other man had managed to escape the vehicle but only got a few paces away before he was gunned down. A short distance away lay a third body, dressed in a Chinese uniform. Investigators swiftly identified the badly mangled body as belonging to 27-year-old Sub-Lieutenant Oyama Isao, while the other deceased Japanese man was his driver, First Class Seaman Saito Yozo. The identity of the Chinese victim remained a mystery. At first glance, the scene appeared to be the aftermath of a straightforward shootout. However, numerous questions lingered: What were the Japanese doing at a military airfield miles from their barracks? Who had fired the first shot, and what had prompted that decision? The Chinese investigators and their Japanese counterparts were at odds over the answers to these questions. As they walked the crime scene, searching for evidence, loud arguments erupted repeatedly. By the time the sun began to rise, they concluded their investigation without reaching any consensus on what had transpired. They climbed into their cars and made their way back to the city. The investigators were acutely aware of the repercussions if they failed to handle their delicate task with the necessary finesse. Despite their hopes for peace, it was evident that Shanghai was a city bracing for war. As they drove through the dimly lit suburbs on their way from Hongqiao back to their downtown offices, their headlights illuminated whitewashed trees, interspersed with sandbag defenses and the silhouettes of solitary Chinese sentries. Officially, these sentries were part of the Peace Preservation Corps,  a paramilitary unit that, due to an international agreement reached a few years earlier, was the only Chinese force allowed to remain in the Shanghai area. In the hours that followed, both sides presented their versions of the incident. According to the Chinese account, the Japanese vehicle attempted to force its way through the airport gate. When members of the Peace Preservation Corps stationed at the entrance signaled for Saito, the driver, to stop, he abruptly turned the car around. Sub-Lieutenant Oyama then fired at the Chinese guards with an automatic pistol. Only then did the Chinese return fire, killing Oyama in a hail of bullets. Saito managed to jump out before he, too, was gunned down. The commander of the Chinese guards told a Western reporter that this wasn’t the first time someone Japanese had attempted to enter the airport. Such incidents had occurred repeatedly in the past two months, leading them to believe that the Japanese were “obviously undertaking espionage.” The Japanese account, predictably, placed the blame for the entire incident squarely on China. It asserted that Oyama had been driving along a road bordering the airfield with no intention of entering. Suddenly, the vehicle was stopped and surrounded by Peace Preservation Corps troops, who opened fire with rifles and machine guns without warning. Oyama had no opportunity to return fire. The Japanese statement argued that the two men had every right to use the road, which was part of the International Settlement, and labeled the incident a clear violation of the 1932 peace agreement. “We demand that the Chinese bear responsibility for this illegal act,”. Regardless of either side, it seemed likely to everyone in the region, war would soon engulf Shanghai.  Meanwhile, as the Marco Polo Bridge Incident escalated into a full blown in the far north, General Zhang Fakui was attending a routine training mission at Mount Lu in southeastern Jiangxi. A short and small man, not considered too handsome either, Zhang had earned his place in China’s leadership through physical courage, once taking a stand on a bridge and single handedly facing down an enemy army. He was 41 years old in 1937, having spent half his life fighting Warlords, Communists and sometimes even Nationalists. In the recent years he had tossed his lot in with a rebel campaign against Chiang Kai-Shek, who surprisingly went on the forgive him and placed him in charge of anti communist operations in the area due south of Shanghai. However now the enemy seemed to have changed.  As the war spread to Beijing, on July 16th, Zhang was sent to Chiang Kai-Shek’s summer residence at Mount Lu alongside 150 members of China’s political and military elites. They were all there to brainstorm how to fight the Japanese. Years prior the Generalissimo had made it doctrine to appease the Japanese but now he made grandiose statements such as “this time we must fight to the end”. Afterwards Chiang dealt missions to all his commanders and Zhang Fakui was told to prepare for operations in the Shanghai area.  It had been apparent for weeks that both China and Japan were preparing for war in central China. The Japanese had been diverting naval troops from the north to strengthen their forces in Shanghai, and by early August, they had assembled over 8,000 troops. A few days later, approximately thirty-two naval vessels arrived. On July 31, Chiang declared that “all hope for peace has been lost.” Chiang had been reluctant to commit his best forces to defend northern China, an area he had never truly controlled. In contrast, Shanghai was central to his strategy for the war against Japan. Chiang decided to deploy his finest troops, the 87th and 88th Divisions, which were trained by generals under the guidance of the German advisor von Falkenhausen, who had high hopes for their performance against the Japanese. In doing so, Chiang aimed to demonstrate to both his own people and the wider world that the Chinese could and would resist the invader. Meanwhile, Chiang’s spy chief, Dai Li, was busy gathering intelligence on Japanese intentions regarding Shanghai, a challenging task given his focus in recent years. Dai, one of the most sinister figures in modern Chinese history, had devoted far more energy and resources to suppressing the Communists than to countering the Japanese. As a result, by the critical summer of 1937, he had built only a sparse network of agents in “Little Tokyo,” the Hongkou area of Shanghai dominated by Japanese businesses. One agent was a pawnshop owner, while the rest were double agents employed as local staff within the Japanese security apparatus. Unfortunately, they could provide little more than snippets, rumors, and hearsay. While some of this information sounded alarmingly dire, there was almost no actionable intelligence. Chiang did not take the decision to open a new front in Shanghai lightly. Built on both banks of the Huangpu River, the city served as the junction between the Pacific Ocean to the east and the great Yangtze River, which wound thousands of kilometers inland to the west. Shanghai embodied everything that represented modern China, from its industry and labor relations to its connections with the outside world. While foreign diplomatic presence was concentrated in nearby Nanjing, the capital, it was in Shanghai that the foreign community gauged the country’s mood. Foreigners in the city’s two “concession” areas nthe French Concession and the British-affiliated International Settlement often dismissed towns beyond Shanghai as mere “outstations.” Chiang Kai-shek would throw 650,000 troops into the battle for the city and its environs as well as his modest air force of 200 aircraft. Chiang, whose forces were being advised by German officers led by General Alexander von Falkenhausen, was finally confident that his forces could take on the Japanese. A German officer told a British diplomat, “If the Chinese Army follows the advice of the German advisers, it is capable of driving the Japanese over the Great Wall.”   While Chiang was groping in the dark, deprived of the eyes and ears of an efficient intelligence service, he did have at his disposal an army that was better prepared for battle than it had been in 1932. Stung by the experience of previous conflicts with the Japanese, Chiang had initiated a modernization program aimed at equipping the armed forces not only to suppress Communist rebels but also to confront a modern fighting force equipped with tanks, artillery, and aircraft. He had made progress, but it was insufficient. Serious weaknesses persisted, and now there was no time for any remedial action. While China appeared to be a formidable power in sheer numbers, the figures were misleading. On the eve of war, the Chinese military was comprised of a total of 176 divisions, which were theoretically organized into two brigades of two regiments each. However, only about 20 divisions maintained full peacetime strength of 10,000 soldiers and officers; the rest typically held around 5,000 men. Moreover, Chiang controlled only 31 divisions personally, and he could not count on the loyalty of the others. To successfully resist Japan, Chiang would need to rely not only on his military command skills but also on his ability to forge fragile coalitions among Warlord generals with strong local loyalties. Equipment posed another significant challenge. The modernization drive was not set to complete until late 1938, and the impact of this delay was evident. In every category of weaponry, from rifles to field artillery, the Chinese were outmatched by their Japanese adversaries, both quantitatively and qualitatively. Domestically manufactured artillery pieces had shorter ranges, and substandard steel-making technology caused gun barrels to overheat, increasing the risk of explosions. Some arms even dated back to imperial times. A large proportion of the Chinese infantry had received no proper training in basic tactics, let alone in coordinated operations involving armor and artillery. The chief of the German advisory corps was General Alexander von Falkenhausen, a figure hard to rival in terms of qualifications for the role. Although the 58-year-old’s narrow shoulders, curved back, and bald, vulture-like head gave him an unmilitary, almost avian appearance, his exterior belied a tough character. In 1918, he had earned his nation’s highest military honor, the Pour le Mérite, while assisting Germany’s Ottoman allies against the British in Palestine. Few, if any, German officers knew Asia as well as he did. His experience in the region dated back to the turn of the century. As a young lieutenant in the Third East Asian Infantry Regiment, he participated in the international coalition of colonial powers that quelled the Boxer Rebellion in 1900. A decade later, he traveled through Korea, Manchuria, and northern China with his wife, keenly observing and learning as a curious tourist. From 1912 to 1914, he served as the German Kaiser’s military attaché in Tokyo. He was poised to put his extensive knowledge to good use in the months ahead. Chiang believed that Shanghai should be the location of the first battle. This decision was heavily influenced by Falkenhausen and was strategically sound. Chiang Kai-shek could not hope to win a war against Japan unless he could unify the nation behind him, particularly the many fractious warlords who had battled his forces repeatedly over the past decade. Everyone understood that the territory Japan was demanding in the far north did not need to be held for any genuine military necessity; it was land that could be negotiated. The warlords occupying that territory were unpredictable and all too willing to engage in bargaining. In contrast, China’s economic heartland held different significance. By choosing to fight for the center of the country and deploying his strongest military units, Chiang Kai-shek signaled to both China’s warlords and potential foreign allies that he had a vested interest in the outcome.  There were also several operational reasons for preferring a conflict in the Yangtze River basin over a campaign in northern China. The rivers, lakes, and rice paddies of the Yangtze delta were much better suited for defensive warfare against Japan’s mechanized forces than the flat plains of North China. By forcing the Japanese to commit troops to central China, the Nationalists bought themselves the time needed to rally and reinforce their faltering defenses in the north. By initiating hostilities in the Shanghai area, Japan would be forced to divert its attention from the northern front, thereby stalling a potential Japanese advance toward the crucial city of Wuhan. It would also help safeguard potential supply routes from the Soviet Union, the most likely source of material assistance due to Moscow’s own animosity toward Japan. It was a clever plan, and surprisingly, the Japanese did not anticipate it. Intelligence officers in Tokyo were convinced that Chiang would send his troops northward instead. Again in late July, Chiang convened his commanders, and here he gave Zhang Fukai more detailed instructions for his operation. Fukai was placed in charge of the right wing of the army which was currently preparing for action in the metropolitan area. Fukai would oversee the forces east of the Huangpu River in the area known as Pudong. Pudong was full of warehouses, factories and rice fields, quite precarious to fight in. Meanwhile General Zhang Zhizhong, a quiet and sickly looking man who had previously led the Central Military Academy was to command the left wing of the Huangpu. All of the officers agreed the plan to force the battle to the Shanghai area was logical as the northern region near Beijing was far too open, giving the advantage to tank warfare, which they could not hope to contest Japan upon. The Shanghai area, full of rivers, creaks and urban environments favored them much more. Zhang Zhizhong seemed an ideal pick to lead troops in downtown Shanghai where most of the fighting would take place. His position of commandant of the military academy allowed him to establish connections with junior officers earmarked for rapid promotion. This meant that he personally knew the generals of both the 87th and 88th Divisions, which were to form the core of Zhang Zhizhong’s newly established 9th Army Group and become his primary assets in the early phases of the Shanghai campaign. Moreover, Zhang Zhizhong had the right aggressive instincts. He believed that China’s confrontation with Japan had evolved through three stages: in the first stage, the Japanese invaded the northeast in 1931, and China remained passive; in the second stage, during the first battle of Shanghai in 1932, Japan struck, but China fought back. Zhang argued that this would be the third stage, where Japan was preparing to attack, but China would strike first.   It seems that Zhang Zhizhong did not expect to survive this final showdown with his Japanese adversary. He took the fight very personally, even ordering his daughter to interrupt her education in England and return home to serve her country in the war. However, he was not the strong commander he appeared to be, as he was seriously ill. Although he never disclosed the true extent of his condition, it seemed he was on the verge of a physical and mental breakdown after years in high-stress positions. In fact, he had recently taken a leave of absence from his role at the military academy in the spring of 1937. When the war broke out, he was at a hospital in the northern port city of Qingdao, preparing to go abroad for convalescence. He canceled those plans to contribute to the struggle against Japan. When his daughter returned from England and saw him on the eve of battle, she was alarmed by how emaciated he had become. From the outset, doubts about his physical fitness to command loomed large. At 8:30 a.m. on Tuesday, August 10, a group of officers emerged from the Japanese Consulate along the banks of the Huangpu River. This team was a hastily assembled Sino-Japanese joint investigation unit tasked with quickly resolving the shooting incident at the Hongqiao Aerodrome of the previous night. They understood the urgency of reaching an agreement swiftly to prevent any escalation. As they drove to the airport, they passed armed guards of the Chinese Peace Preservation Corps stationed behind sandbag barricades that had been erected only hours earlier. Upon arriving at Hongqiao, the officers walked up and down the scene of the incident under the scorching sun, attempting to piece together a shared understanding of what had transpired. However, this proved to be nearly impossible, as the evidence failed to align into a coherent account acceptable to both parties. The Japanese were unconvinced that any shootout had occurred at all. Oyama, the officer who had been in the car, had left his pistol at the marine headquarters in Hongkou and had been unarmed the night before. They insisted that whoever shot and killed the man in the Chinese uniform could not have been him. By 6:00 pm the investigators returned to the city. Foreign correspondents, eager for information, knew exactly whom to approach. The newly appointed Shanghai Mayor, Yu Hongjun, with a quick wit and proficiency in English, Yu represented the city’s cosmopolitan image. However, that evening, he had little to offer the reporters, except for a plea directed at both the Japanese and Chinese factions “Both sides should maintain a calm demeanor to prevent the situation from escalating.” Mayor Yu however was, in fact, at the center of a complex act of deception that nearly succeeded. Nearly eight decades later, Zhang Fakui attributed the incident to members of the 88th Division, led by General Sun Yuanliang. “A small group of Sun Yuanliang's men disguised themselves as members of the Peace Preservation Corps,” Zhang Fakui recounted years later in his old age. “On August 9, 1937, they encountered two Japanese servicemen on the road near the Hongqiao military aerodrome and accused them of forcing their way into the area. A clash ensued, resulting in the deaths of the Japanese soldiers.” This created a delicate dilemma for their superiors. The two dead Japanese soldiers were difficult to explain away. Mayor Yu, likely informed of the predicament by military officials, conferred with Tong Yuanliang, chief of staff of the Songhu Garrison Command, a unit established after the fighting in 1932. Together, they devised a quick and cynical plan to portray the situation as one of self-defense by the Chinese guards. Under their orders, soldiers marched a Chinese death row inmate to the airport gate, dressed him in a paramilitary guard’s uniform, and executed him. While this desperate ruse might have worked initially, it quickly unraveled due to the discrepancies raised by the condition of the Chinese body. The Japanese did not believe the story, and the entire plan began to fall apart. Any remaining mutual trust swiftly evaporated. Instead of preventing a confrontation, the cover-up was accelerating the slide into war.  Late on August 10, Mayor Yu sent a secret cable to Nanjing, warning that the Japanese had ominously declared they would not allow the two deaths at the airport to go unpunished. The following day, the Japanese Consul General Okamoto Suemasa paid a visit to the mayor, demanding the complete withdrawal of the Peace Preservation Corps from the Shanghai area and the dismantling of all fortifications established by the corps. For the Chinese, acquiescing to these demands was nearly impossible. From their perspective, it appeared that the Japanese aimed to leave Shanghai defenseless while simultaneously bolstering their own military presence in the city. Twenty vessels, including cruisers and destroyers, sailed up the Huangpu River and docked at wharves near "Little Tokyo." Japanese marines in olive-green uniforms marched ashore down the gangplanks, while women from the local Japanese community, dressed in kimonos, greeted the troops with delighted smiles and bows to the flags of the Rising Sun that proudly adorned the sterns of the battleships. In fact, Japan had planned to deploy additional troops to Shanghai even before the shooting at Hongqiao Aerodrome. This decision was deemed necessary to reinforce the small contingent of 2,500 marines permanently stationed in the city. More troops were required to assist in protecting Japanese nationals who were being hastily evacuated from the larger cities along the Yangtze River. These actions were primarily defensive maneuvers, as the Japanese military seemed hesitant to open a second front in Shanghai, for the same reasons that the Chinese preferred an extension of hostilities to that area. Diverting Japanese troops from the strategically critical north and the Soviet threat across China’s border would weaken their position, especially given that urban warfare would diminish the advantages of their technological superiority in tanks and aircraft. While officers in the Japanese Navy believed it was becoming increasingly difficult to prevent the war from spreading to Shanghai, they were willing to give diplomacy one last chance. Conversely, the Japanese Army was eager to wage war in northern China but displayed little inclination to engage in hostilities in Shanghai. Should the situation worsen, the Army preferred to withdraw all Japanese nationals from the city. Ultimately, when it agreed to formulate plans for dispatching an expeditionary force to Shanghai, it did so reluctantly, primarily to avoid accusations of neglecting its responsibilities. Amongst many commanders longing for a swift confrontation with Japan was Zhang Zhizhong. By the end of July, he was growing increasingly impatient, waiting with his troops in the Suzhou area west of Shanghai and questioning whether a unique opportunity was being squandered. On July 30, he sent a telegram to Nanjing requesting permission to strike first. He argued that if Japan were allowed to launch an attack on Shanghai, he would waste valuable time moving his troops from their position more than 50 miles away. Nanjing responded with a promise that his wishes would be fulfilled but urged him to exercise patience: “We should indeed seize the initiative over the enemy, but we must wait until the right opportunity arises. Await further orders.” That opportunity arose on August 11, with the Japanese display of force on the Huangpu River and their public demand for the withdrawal of China’s paramilitary police. Japan had sufficiently revealed itself as the aggressor in the eyes of both domestic and international audiences, making it safe for China to take action. At 9:00 p.m. that evening, Zhang Zhizhong received orders from Nanjing to move his troops toward Shanghai. He acted with remarkable speed, capitalizing on the extensive transportation network in the region. The soldiers of the 87th Division quickly boarded 300 trucks that had been prepared in advance. Meanwhile, civilian passengers on trains were unceremoniously ordered off to make room for the 88th Division, which boarded the carriages heading for Shanghai. In total, over 20,000 motivated and well-equipped troops were on their way to battle.  On August 12, representatives from the United Kingdom, France, the United States, Italy, Japan, and China gathered for a joint conference in Shanghai to discuss ceasefire terms. Japan demanded the withdrawal of Chinese troops from Shanghai, while the Chinese representative, Yu Hung-chun, dismissed the Japanese demand, stating that the terms of the ceasefire had already been violated by Japan. The major powers were keen to avoid a repeat of the January 28 Incident, which had significantly disrupted foreign economic activities in Shanghai. Meanwhile, Chinese citizens fervently welcomed the presence of Chinese troops in the city. In Nanjing, Chinese and Japanese representatives convened for the last time in a final effort to negotiate. The Japanese insisted that all Peace Preservation Corps and regular troops be withdrawn from the vicinity of Shanghai. The Chinese, however, deemed the demand for a unilateral withdrawal unacceptable, given that the two nations were already engaged in conflict in North China. Ultimately, Mayor Yu made it clear that the most the Chinese government would concede was that Chinese troops would not fire unless fired upon. Conversely, Japan placed all responsibility on China, citing the deployment of Chinese troops around Shanghai as the cause of the escalating tensions. Negotiations proved impossible, leaving no alternative but for the war to spread into Central China. On that same morning of Thursday, August 12, residents near Shanghai’s North Train Station, also known as Zhabei Station, just a few blocks from "Little Tokyo," awoke to an unusual sight: thousands of soldiers dressed in the khaki uniforms of the Chinese Nationalists, wearing German-style helmets and carrying stick grenades slung across their chests. “Where do you come from?” the Shanghai citizens asked. “How did you get here so fast?” Zhang Zhizhong issued detailed orders to each unit under his command, instructing the 88th Division specifically to travel by train and deploy in a line from the town of Zhenru to Dachang village, both located a few miles west of Shanghai. Only later was the division supposed to advance toward a position stretching from the Zhabei district to the town of Jiangwan, placing it closer to the city boundaries. Zhang Zhizhong was the embodiment of belligerence, but he faced even more aggressive officers among his ranks. On the morning of August 12, he was approached by Liu Jingchi, the chief of operations at the Songhu Garrison Command. Liu argued that the battle of 1932 had gone poorly for the Chinese because they had hesitated and failed to strike first. This time, he insisted, should be different, and Zhang should order an all-out assault on the Japanese positions that very evening. Zhang countered that he had clear and unmistakable orders from Chiang Kai-shek to let the Japanese fire first, emphasizing the importance of maintaining China’s image on the world stage. “That’s easy,” Liu retorted. “Once all the units are deployed and ready to attack, we can just change some people into mufti and send them in to fire a few shots. We attack, and simultaneously, we report that the enemy’s offensive has begun.” Zhang Zhizhong did not like this idea. “We can’t go behind our leader’s back like that,” he replied. Zhang Zhizhong’s position was far from enviable. Forced to rein in eager and capable officers, he found himself acting against his own personal desires. Ultimately, he decided to seek the freedom to act as he saw fit. In a secret cable to Nanjing, he requested permission to launch an all-out attack on the Japanese positions in Shanghai the following day, Friday, August 13. He argued that this was a unique opportunity to capitalize on the momentum created by the movement of troops; any further delay would only lead to stagnation. He proposed a coordinated assault that would also involve the Chinese Air Force. However, the reply from Chiang Kai-shek was brief and unwavering: “Await further orders.” Even as Chiang’s troops poured into Shanghai, Chinese and Japanese officials continued their discussions. Ostensibly, this was in hopes of reaching a last-minute solution, but in reality, it was a performance. Both sides wanted to claim the moral high ground in a battle that now seemed inevitable. They understood that whoever openly declared an end to negotiations would automatically be perceived as the aggressor. During talks at the Shanghai Municipal Council, Japanese Consul General Okamoto argued that if China truly wanted peace, it would have withdrawn its troops to a position that would prevent clashes. Mayor Yu responded by highlighting the increasing presence of Japanese forces in the city. “Under such circumstances, China must adopt such measures as necessary for self-defense,” he stated. Late on August 13, 1937, Chiang Kai-shek instructed his forces to defend Shanghai, commanding them to "divert the enemy at sea, secure the coast, and resist landings."  I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. In July 1937, tensions between Japan and China escalated into war following the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. Confident in his country’s resolve, Chiang Kai-shek rallied the Chinese against Japanese aggression. On August 9, a deadly confrontation at Hongqiao Airport resulted in the deaths of Japanese soldiers, igniting further hostilities. As both sides blamed each other, the atmosphere became tense. Ultimately, negotiations failed, and the stage was set for a brutal conflict in Shanghai, marking the beginning of a long and devastating war.

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

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

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

  Last time we spoke about the Xi’an Incident. In December 1936, tensions in China erupted as Nationalist General Chiang Kai-shek faced a revolt led by his commanders, Zhang Xueliang and Yang Hucheng. Disillusioned by Chiang's focus on battling communists instead of the Japanese invaders, the generals swiftly captured him in a coup. Confined in Xi'an, Chiang initially resisted their demands for a united front against Japan but eventually engaged in negotiation with Zhang and the Chinese Communist Party. As public sentiment shifted against him, Chiang's predicament led to urgent discussions, culminating in an unexpected alliance with the communists. This pact aimed to consolidate Chinese resistance against Japanese aggression, marking a critical turning point in the Second Sino-Japanese War. By December 26, Chiang was released, and this uneasy collaboration set the stage for a more unified front against a common enemy, though underlying tensions remained between the factions.   #152 China Prepares for War Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Before we jump into the Second Sino-Japanese War of 1937-1945, which I honestly have no idea how long will take us, I thought it would be a good idea to dedicate two episodes to how both China and Japan prepared themselves for war.  Going all the way back to the 1910s, Chinese intellectuals began to view an outright conflict between Japan and China was inevitable. In the discussions about China's strategic options, Jiang Fangzhen pioneered a strategy of protracted warfare, a concept that would later shape China’s approach during the Sino-Japanese War. Having studied in Japan during his youth, Jiang developed a keen understanding of the Japanese government and military. As early as 1917, he predicted that China and Japan would become embroiled in a long-term conflict, with the battleground likely to be west of the Peiping–Wuhan and Guangzhou–Wuhan railways. In his work titled "Guofang Lun" or “On National Defense”, Jiang reiterated the importance of protracted warfare as a means to thwart Japan's aspirations for a swift victory. He argued that China should leverage its vast population and extensive territory to extend the conflict, gradually wearing down Japanese strength and turning the situation to its advantage. Jiang recommended that China not focus on defending its coastal regions but instead confront the enemy west of the Peking–Wuhan Railway.   Chiang Kai-shek would eventually come to share Jiang’s belief that “the longer the war drags on, the more advantageous it will be for China.” Despite significant public criticism, both the Nationalist government and General Zhang Xueliang, decided against military resistance when Japan invaded Manchuria in September 1931 and attacked Shanghai in 1932. Chiang was particularly hesitant to engage Japan directly, as he was also dealing with a Communist insurgency in central China. He feared that Chinese forces would suffer quick defeat, predicting that Japan would capture key coastal areas and critical infrastructure within just three days, crippling China by dismantling its military and economic lifelines. Following the invasion of North China Chiang was forced to adopt a firmer stance. The Nationalist government proposed a dual strategy of pursuing peace and security while simultaneously preparing for war. If peace proved impossible, China would mobilize its resources for ultimate victory through prolonged conflict. This approach was formalized in the National Defense Plan, which China adopted by prioritizing protracted warfare as its core strategy. After the Sino-Japanese clash in Shanghai on January 28, 1932, the Military Affairs Commission devised a plan that divided China into four defense areas along with a preparation area. While some troops were assigned local security, commanders were directed to concentrate their remaining forces for potential confrontations with Japan. That year, the Military Affairs Commission issued General Defense Guidelines that outlined two strategic responses to a potential Japanese invasion. The first, conservative approach focused on maintaining key positions and utilizing protracted warfare to impede the enemy. The second strategy advocated for decisive battles in key regions to thwart Japan’s ambitions and protect China’s territorial integrity, prioritizing disengagement from Japanese forces along the Yangtze River and coastline. In August 1935, German military adviser General Alexander von Falkenhausen provided recommendations to Chiang Kai-shek based on his predictions of Japanese advance routes into China. He identified three main routes: one from northern Hebei to Zhengzhou, the second from Shandong toward Xuzhou, and the third crossing the Yangtze River to Nanjing and onwards to Wuhan. He suggested treating the Yangtze River as the primary combat zone and highlighted Sichuan as a possible retreat area. Taking all of this into consideration. in 1936, a draft of a new National Defense Plan divided the country into four zones: a war zone, a defense zone, an internal security zone, and a preparation area. The war zone encompassed ten provinces and established strategies for retreating to predetermined defensive positions when necessary, with Sichuan designated as the main base for the war. In January 1937, the Chinese General Staff Department introduced its annual War Plan, outlining three possible military conflict regions between China and Japan. It proposed two main strategies: Proposal A emphasized sustained combat and retreat to fortified positions if the situation became unfavorable, aiming to eventually go on the offensive against Japan. Proposal B focused on repelling Japanese invasions along the coast and from the north, prioritizing counter offensives against Japanese units stationed near key locations. To prepare, the NRA completed several critical projects outlined in its plans, establishing military supply depots in Nanjing, Bengbu, Xinyang, Huayin, Nanchang, and Wuchang to manage logistics for supplies across various strategic railways. These depots were equipped to sustain the military, with ample ammunition and provisions, including 60 million rounds of small-arms ammunition and food for hundreds of thousands. Despite these preparations, not all projects were completed by the time war broke out in July 1937. In contrast to the Japanese military's tactics, Chinese forces prioritized defensive strategies. For example, at the Mount Lushan Military Officer Training Camp in July 1934, Chiang Kai-shek outlined four possible approaches against Japan, favoring a defense-as-offense strategy. Other options included building fortifications, tenaciously defending key positions, and employing guerrilla warfare through irregular forces to constrain enemy advances. Chiang stressed the importance of national mobilization for the war effort.  There was a significant disparity in equipment between the Japanese and Chinese armies. To give you an idea, each Japanese division included a mechanized group featuring thirty-nine light military vehicles and 21 light armored cars, supplemented by 6,000–7,000 horses, 200–300 automobiles, and specialized troops such as poison gas teams. In contrast, Nationalist divisions lacked any of these capabilities, a typical nationalist division theoretically had an armored regiment, but this unit was equipped with fewer than 72 armored vehicles. Another major weakness of the Nationalist forces was their insufficient artillery. In 1936, a division was officially assigned one artillery battalion, which was divided into three batteries totaling twelve guns. It also included a mechanized cannon company with four direct-fire weapons. By comparison, a Japanese division boasted four infantry regiments and one mountain artillery or field artillery regiment, with each artillery regiment comprising three field artillery battalions and one howitzer battalion. The infantry regiment itself included a mountain artillery section with four mountain guns, while the infantry battalion had one Type 70 mountain gun section with two guns. In total, a Japanese division possessed sixty-four artillery pieces of various calibers, four times the number of a Chinese division and of significantly higher quality. In reality, in 1936, twelve of the twenty elite Chinese “reformed divisions” still lacked artillery battalions. The ordnance available in the “reformed divisions” mostly consisted of the outdated Type 60 mountain gun. Nationwide, very few of the 200 divisions were equipped with any artillery, and those that did often used obsolete field artillery pieces or mountain artillery provided to local forces. Some units even relied on trench mortars as a makeshift solution. The artillery weapons came from various countries, but they frequently lacked necessary observation and signal components, and were often low on ammunition. The majority of mountain guns and field artillery were of the Type 75, which, while capable of providing fire support, had limited range and inflicted minimal damage. To give you an idea of the striking inadequacy of the Chinese artillery, during the Shanghai fighting in 1937, the mountain artillery of the Guangxi 21st Army Group could only reach targets within 1,200 yards, while Japanese field artillery had an effective range of 8,000 yards. Chinese-made mountain artillery suffered due to inferior steel-making technology; the gun shields were constructed from low-quality steel, and the barrels often overheated after firing just a few rounds, increasing the risk of explosions. Additionally, the equipment of local forces varied greatly in quality. In fact, some local units had superior equipment compared to Nationalist units. For example, before the Sino-Japanese War, troops from Yunnan were equipped with French antitank guns and heavy machine guns, which were better than the German water-cooled machine guns used by the Nationalist forces. However, the majority of local troops relied on inferior equipment; the 122nd Division under Wang Mingzhang from Sichuan, noted for its brave defense of Tengxian County during the Xuzhou Battle, was armed with locally produced light and heavy machine guns that frequently malfunctioned, and their Type 79 rifles, also made in Sichuan, were often outdated, with some dating back to the Qing Dynasty. These weapons had limited range and sometimes malfunctioned after fewer than one hundred rounds. Now before the war, both Nationalist and local forces acquired weaponry from diverse foreign and domestic sources. Even domestically produced weapons lacked standardization, with those made in Hanyang and Manchuria differing in design and specifications. Arms manufactured in Germany, France, Russia, Japan, and Italy were similarly inconsistent. Consequently, even within a single unit, the lack of uniformity created significant logistical challenges, undermining combat effectiveness, particularly in the early stages of the war. Despite Nationalist ordnance factories producing over three million rounds of small-arms ammunition daily, the incompatibility of ammunition and weapons diminished the usable quantity of ammunition. Chinese communications infrastructure was inadequate. In the Nationalist army, signal units were integrated into engineering units, leading to low-quality radio communications. In emergencies, telegrams could remain undelivered for days, and orders often had to be dispatched via postal services. By 1937, the entire country boasted only 3,000 military vehicles, necessitating heavy reliance on horses and mules for transport. To effectively equip twenty Nationalist divisions, 10,647 horses and 20,688 mules were needed, but by the end of 1935, only 6,206 horses and 4,351 mules were available. A statistic from 1936 indicated a 5 percent mortality rate among military horses, with some units experiencing a rate as high as 10 percent. The distribution of weaponry led to disputes during army reorganization efforts following the Northern Expedition. Although Chiang Kai-shek's forces were part of the regular army, the quality of their equipment varied significantly. Domestic production of weapons was limited, and imports could not close the gap. Priority was given to small arms; through army reorganization, Chiang aimed to diminish the influence of forces less loyal to him. Nationalist army staff officers observed that troops loyal to Chiang received the best weapons. Northwest and Northeast forces, having cultivated good relations with the KMT, were similarly better equipped, while Shanxi troops received inferior supplies. Troops associated with the Guangxi Clique were given even poorer quality weapons due to their leaders' stronger political ambitions. Troops regarded as “bandit forces,” such as those led by Shi Yousan, Li Hongchang, and Sun Dianying, were naturally assigned the least effective weaponry. This unequal distribution of arms increased some local forces’ inclination to align with the KMT while alienating others, which inadvertently led to additional turmoil in the aftermath of the Northern Expedition. Logistical accounting within the Nationalist military was severely lacking. Military expenditures accounted for a significant portion of government spending, roughly 65.48 % in 1937, with personnel costs being the largest component. However, military units prioritized boosting their own resources over accurate accounting. Surpluses were not returned but rather utilized to reward military officers and soldiers for merits in battle, care for the wounded, or to create a reserve. Conversely, if deficits arose, troops would resort to “living off vacancies,” a practice in which they would fail to report desertions promptly and would falsely claim new soldiers had arrived. Military leaders typically appointed their most trusted subordinates to serve as accountants and logistic officers. As the war commenced, these issues became readily apparent. During the Battle of Shanghai in 1937, frontline soldiers sometimes went days without food and went months without pay. Wounded soldiers and civilians had to search tirelessly for medical treatment, and when main forces relocated, they often abandoned grain, ammunition, weapons, and petroleum along the way. General Chen Cheng, the commander in chief during the Battle of Shanghai, noted, “This phenomenon clearly revealed our inability to supply frontline troops, indicating that China remains a backward country with poor management.” Many logistical shortcomings severely impacted troop morale and combat effectiveness. In a 1933 speech, Chiang Kai-shek acknowledged that poor food, inadequate clothing, and ineffective logistics contributed to widespread desertion. Soldiers were further demoralized by reduced or embezzled salaries. A lack of professional medical staff and equipment hampered healthcare efforts, leading to high disease and mortality rates. According to official statistics from 1936, approximately 10 percent of soldiers fell ill annually, with a mortality rate as high as 5 percent. Japanese military authorities reported that one in three wounded Japanese soldiers died, while a Dutch military officer present during the early stages of the Sino-Japanese War observed that one in every two wounded Nationalist soldiers perished. Due to inadequate equipment and limited transport options, Nationalist forces were compelled to recruit farmers and rent vehicles, as they lacked essential facilities such as tents. This reliance on local resources inevitably led to frequent conflicts between military personnel and civilians. China is clearly a vast nation with an extensive coastline, requiring the construction of several significant fortresses during the modern era. These included Wusong, Jiangyin, Zhenjiang, Jiangning, and Wuhan along the Yangtze River, as well as Zhenhai, Humen, and Changzhou along the seacoast. Except for the Wuhan fortress, built in 1929-1930, all other fortifications were established during the late Qing Dynasty and featured uncovered cannon batteries. These fortresses suffered from inadequate maintenance, and many of their components had become outdated and irreplaceable, rendering them militarily negligible. Following the January 1932 Shanghai Incident, the Japanese military destroyed the Wusong forts, leaving the entrance to the Yangtze River completely unfortified. Consequently, there were no defenses along the coastline from Jiangsu to Shandong, allowing the Japanese to land freely. In December 1932, the Military Affairs Commission established a fortress group tasked with constructing fortresses and defensive installations, seeking assistance from German military advisers. After the North China Incident in 1935, the Nationalist government accelerated the construction of defensive structures in line with national war planning, focusing particularly on Nanjing. The Nationalists prioritized building fortifications along the seacoast and the Yellow River, followed by key regions north of the Yellow River. The government also ordered a significant quantity of heavy artillery from Germany. This included several dozen pieces of flat-fire antiaircraft and dual-purpose heavy artillery, which were installed at fortifications in Jiangyin, Zhenjiang, Nanjing, and Wuhan. By the summer of 1937, the construction of nine fortified positions was complete: Nanjing, Zhenjiang, Jiangyin, Ningbo, Humen, Mawei, Xiamen , Nantong, and Lianyungang. In total, China had established 41 forts and equipped them with 273 fortress cannons. Some defensive installations were poorly managed, with many units assigned to their perimeters lacking training and access to proper maps. The barbette positions in the fortresses were not well concealed and could hardly store sufficient ammunition. Troops stationed at these fortresses received little training. Despite these shortcomings, the fortresses and fortifications were not entirely ineffective. They bolstered Chinese positions along the defense line stretching from Cangxian County to Baoding and from Dexian County to Shijiazhuang, as well as in southern Shandong.  Before the war, China's political and economic center was situated along the seacoast and the Yangtze River. As Japanese influence expanded, the Nationalist government was compelled to establish bases in China's inner regions, very similar to how the USSR pulled back its industry further west after Operation barbarossa.The Japanese attack on Shanghai in 1932 prompted the Nationalists to relocate their capital to Luoyang. On March 5, during the Second Plenary Session of the KMT's Fourth Congress, the Western Capital Preparation Committee was formed to plan for the potential relocation of all governmental bodies to Xi'an in the event of full-scale war. In February 1933, the Central Political Conference approved the Northwest Development Bill, and in February 1934, the National Economic Commission set up a northwestern branch to oversee development projects in the region. On October 18, 1934, Chiang Kai-shek traveled to Lanzhou, recording in his diary that “Northwest China has abundant resources. Japan and Russia are poised to bully us. Yet, if we strengthen ourselves and develop northwest China to the fullest extent, we can turn it into a base for China's revival.” Interestingly, it was Sichuan, rather than the northwest, that became China’s rear base during the 2nd Sino-Japanese War. In October 1934, the Communist army evacuated its Soviet base in southern China, initiating the Long March that would ultimately end in the northwest. By this time, Chiang Kai-shek had decided to designate Sichuan as the last stronghold for China. In January 1935, the Nanchang Field Headquarters of the Military Affairs Commission, responsible for combatting the Communists and serving as the supreme military and political authority over most provinces along the Yangtze River and central China, dispatched a special advisory group to Chongqing. Following this, the Nationalist army advanced into Sichuan. On February 10, the Nationalists appointed a new provincial government in Sichuan, effectively ending the province's long-standing regionalism. On March 2, Chiang traveled to Chongqing, where he delivered a speech underscoring that “Sichuan should serve as the base for China’s revival.” He stated that he was in Sichuan to oversee efforts against the Communist army and to unify the provincial administration.  After the Xinhai revolution, the Republic of China was still suing the Qing Dynasty’s conscription system. However, once in power, the Nationalist government sought to establish a national military service program. In 1933, it enacted a military service law, which began implementation in 1936. This law categorized military service into two branches: service in the Nationalist army and in territorial citizen army units. Men aged eighteen to forty-five were expected to serve in the territorial units if they did not enlist in the Nationalist army. The territorial service was structured into three phases: active service lasting two to three years, first reserves for six years, and second reserves until the age of forty-five. The Ministry of Military Affairs divided China into sixty divisional conscription headquarters, initially establishing these headquarters in the six provinces of Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Anhui, Jiangxi, Henan, and Hubei. By December 1936, approximately 50,000 new soldiers had been drafted. The military service law disproportionately favored the middle and upper classes. Government personnel were exempt from enlistment, allowing privileged families to register their children with government agencies. Similarly, students in middle and higher education were excused from service, while youth from poorer backgrounds often felt compelled to enlist due to financial constraints that limited their educational opportunities. Village and town leaders were responsible for executing the recruitment process and frequently conspired with army recruiters. Recruitment principles often favored wealthier families, with guidelines stating that one son should be drafted for every three sons, two for five sons, but no drafts if there was only one son. Wealthy families could secure exemptions for all their male children, while poor families might see their only son conscripted if they were unable to provide the requisite bribe. Town and village heads wielded significant power in recruitment. This new recruitment system also created numerous money-making opportunities. Military personnel assigned to escort draftees to their units would often allow draftees to escape for a fee. Additionally, draftees could monetize their service by agreeing to serve as substitutes for others. For some, being drafted became an occupation. For example, in 1936, 600 individuals were drafted in the Wuhu area of Anhui province, and accounts from regional administrators indicated that every draftee had either been traded, replaced, or seized. Beginning in 1929, the Nationalist government also instituted military training for high school students and older individuals. Students were required to participate in one theoretical class and one practical class each week, totaling three hours. Starting in 1934, students had to complete a three-month military training program before graduating. Graduates of military academies were employed as military instructors. By the end of 1936, over 237,000 high school students had undergone military training. This student military training was overseen by the Society for the Implementation of the Three People’s Principles of Sun Yat-sen, which also provided political education and sometimes gathered information on students’ political beliefs.  Although the Nationalists made significant efforts to improve the military training of both officers and troops, they inherited deep-seated challenges that they were unable to completely overcome. A lack of facilities, outdated training manuals, low regard for military instructors, and the ongoing influence of regionalism and warlordism hindered progress. The Japanese would also later exploit these shortcomings of the Nationalist army. The Central Military Academy, which evolved from the Whampoa Military Academy established in 1923 in Guangzhou to train officers for the Northern Expedition, became the primary training institution for junior military officers. The academy offered a basic course, lasting eighteen months, which included general education, specialized training in various subjects, and field practice. This was followed by a two-year cadet training program focused on developing the skills necessary for junior military officers. Seventeen classes were admitted before the outbreak of war. Admission to the academy was highly competitive, with military officers receiving attractive salaries. For instance, in 1935, the academy received 10,000 applications for the twelfth class, but only 7% were accepted. Upon graduation, cadets were typically assigned to divisions within the Nationalist army loyal to Chiang Kai-shek. Their training, influenced by German advisors, resulted in a high-quality cadre. In modern China, most sergeants were veterans. While some units provided training for sergeants, a lack of formal education led to their diminished status. Truly qualified sergeants were rare. During his tenure as Minister of Military Training, General Bai Chongxi proposed establishing a sergeant school and creating a professional noncommissioned officer system; however, the Ministry of Military Affairs opposed this on financial grounds. While commanding officers enjoyed rapid promotions, military instructors did not. Furthermore, there was no system for transferring instructors to field commands or assigning commanders to military academies for extended periods. Despite minor updates to cover modern warfare concepts such as tank warfare and machine guns, Qing Dynasty military manuals were still in use at the Central Military Academy at the start of the war. Yeah, 1937 they were still rocking the old Qing books. Following the establishment of the Ministry of Military Training, a bureau for military translation was set up to evaluate existing course materials and translate military manuals, but its contributions were limited. Another significant shortcoming of military instruction focused on theory at the expense of practical application.  To enhance the quality of military officers, the Nationalist army instituted specialized schools for artillery, infantry, transport, engineering, and signals starting in 1931. These institutions were considered to have high-quality administrators and facilities. The Nationalists adopted German military training models, replacing the previously used Japanese models. They appointed German advisors to oversee instructor training at military academies and established three instructional divisions. By the onset of the Sino-Japanese War, 15,000 students had graduated from programs with a German military influence, resulting in the creation of about fifty combat divisions from these instructional units. However, the progress of other Nationalist army units was limited because their training was not aligned with contemporary battlefield realities. Before World War I, troops operated in close formations due to limited firepower. The widespread introduction of machine guns after World War I necessitated a shift to dispersed formations. Although a new drill manual issued by the Ministry of Military Training in 1935 introduced small-group tactics, few units adopted these methods. General Chen Cheng highlighted another underlying issue in 1938, commenting on the outmoded focus on parade ground drills and formal military manners. He noted, “We have paid too much attention to stereotypical formality and procedures of no practical use. Sometimes, even though soldiers could not get a haircut or take a bath for several months, their camps had to be in order. They underwent intensive training in close-order drill but learned little about gun handling, marksmanship, or maneuvering. This was inappropriate in peacetime, yet we continued this practice even after the Sino-Japanese War started, even using it on highly educated youth.” In contrast, the Communist army simplified training, emphasizing two essential skills: live-fire exercises and physical endurance, which significantly enhanced troop effectiveness in the challenging terrain characteristic of the Sino-Japanese War. Ultimately, the Nationalist army’s training did not reach all soldiers. Only about half of all combat soldiers received adequate training, while the rest were neglected. According to statistics from the time, there were approximately five million military personnel during the Sino-Japanese War, with three million serving in logistics. Most of these logistics personnel had received little training, leading to disastrous consequences for overall combat effectiveness. As warfare has become more complex, the role of highly trained staff officers has become increasingly important. Napoleon developed operational plans close to the front and communicated orders via courier. During World War I, military commanders collected information at their headquarters and utilized telephones and automobiles to relay orders to the front lines. In World War II, with the battlefield expanding to include land, sea, and air, senior commanders often made decisions from headquarters far from the action, relying on a significant number of staff officers with specialized skills to keep them informed. In China, however, the staff officer system was underdeveloped. By 1937, only about 2,000 commanders and staff officers had received training. Prior to the Sino-Japanese War, most commanders managed staff work themselves, with staff officers serving primarily as military secretaries who drafted orders, reports, and maps. Many staff officers had no formal military training, and as a whole, the branch lacked respect, causing the most talented officers to avoid serving in it. The situation was even more dire for staff officer departments within local forces. For example, in March 1937, Liu Ziqing, a graduate of the Whampoa Military Academy, was appointed as the director of political instruction in the Forty-fourth Army, a unit under Sichuan warlord Liu Xiang. Liu Ziqing's account illustrates the dysfunction within the ranks: “The commander in chief was not supposed to manage the army and even did not know its whereabouts... But he could appoint relatives and former subordinates—who were officials and businessmen as well—to the army. Each month they would receive a small stipend. At headquarters, there was a long table and two rows of chairs. Around ten o’clock in the morning, senior officers signed in to indicate their presence. Those with other business would leave, while the remaining officers sat down to leisurely discuss star actresses, fortune-telling, business projects, mah-jongg, and opium. Occasionally they would touch on national affairs, chat about news articles, or share local gossip. In the afternoons, they primarily played mah-jongg, held banquets, and visited madams. Most mornings, the commander usually presided over these activities, and at first, I reported for duty as well. But I soon realized it was a waste of time and came very rarely. At headquarters, most staff members wore long gowns or Western-style suits, while military uniforms were a rare sight.” Most senior military personnel were trained at the Baoding Military Academy during the early republic. 2/3rds of commanders in chief, 37 %of army commanders, and 20 % of division commanders were Baoding graduates. Higher-ranking officers were more likely to have launched their careers there. In contrast, only 10 % of division commanders and a few army commanders were graduates of the Whampoa Military Academy. Additionally, commanders trained in local military schools and those with combat experience accounted for 1/3rd of all commanders. While the prevalence of civil war provided opportunities for rapid promotion, it also hindered officers' ability to update their training or gain experience in different military branches. German advisors expressed their concerns to Chiang Kai-shek, emphasizing that officers should first serve in junior roles before taking command. During one battle in 1938, Chiang noted, “Our commanders in chief are equivalent only to our enemy’s regiment commanders, and our army and division commanders are only as competent as our enemy’s battalion and company commanders.” Despite not viewing high-ranking Japanese officers as great strategists, Nationalist officers respected them as highly competent, diligent, and professional commanders who rarely made critical errors. The infantry was the primary component of the Nationalist army, with middle and junior infantry officers constituting over 80 %of all army officers. A 1936 registry of military officers listed 1,105 colonels and 2,159 lieutenant colonels within the infantry, demonstrating a significant outnumbering of Baoding graduates at ranks below lieutenant colonel. However, the quality of middle and junior infantry officers declined during the Sino-Japanese War; by 1944, only 27.3 % of these officers were from formal military academies, while those promoted from the ranks increased to 28.1 %. In 1937, 80 % of officers in an ordinary infantry battalion were military academy graduates, but this percentage dropped to 20 % during the war. Its hard to tell how educated soldiers were before the war, but it is generally believed that most were illiterate. In 1929, sociologist Tao Menghe surveyed 946 soldiers from a Shanxi garrison brigade and found that only 13 percent could compose a letter independently, while the rest had either never learned to read or were unable to write. In contrast, in August 1938, General Feng Yuxiang found that 80 percent of a regiment in Hunan were literate. Regardless, during the Sino-Japanese War, the quality of recruits steadily declined. More than 90 percent of soldiers were illiterate, and few possessed any basic scientific knowledge, which hindered their ability to master their weapons. On the battlefield, they heavily relied on middle and junior officers for guidance.  In autumn 1933, General Hans von Seeckt, the architect of the post World War I German army, visited China at the personal invitation of Chiang Kai-shek. In his recommendations for military reform, he identified China’s greatest problem as its excessively large forces drawn from diverse backgrounds. He stated, “At present, the most pressing goal is to... establish a small, well-equipped army with high morale and combat effectiveness to replace the numerous poorly armed and trained forces.” He suggested forming an army of sixty divisions and recommended the establishment of a training regiment for military officers to equip them with the skills needed for modern warfare. Chiang Kai-shek accepted von Seeckt’s proposals, and on January 26, 1935, he convened a National Military Reorganization Conference in Nanjing. On March 1, the Army Reorganization Bureau was established in Wuchang, under the leadership of General Chen Cheng. In the same month, General Alexander von Falkenhausen took charge of the German Military Advisors Group. Before war broke out, around nineteen divisions, roughly 300,000 troops received training from German advisors and were equipped with German-style weapons. At the onset of the Sino-Japanese War, the forces stemming from the First Army of the National Revolutionary Army and the Whampoa cadets, who had fought in the Northern Expedition, held the highest reputation and were referred to as the “core central forces” by the Japanese. Other notable forces included the Guangxi Army, Northwestern Army, Northeastern Army, some Uyghur units, the Guangdong Army, and the Shanxi Army. In contrast, provincial forces such as the Yunnan Army and Sichuan Army were viewed less favorably. Nationalist forces were generally far inferior to those of the Japanese enemy. In 1937, General He Yingqin noted that Nationalist forces had failed to prevail in 1932 and 1933, even when outnumbering the Japanese by 4-1.  In November 1937, during a national defense conference, Chiang Kai-shek stated, "In recent years we have worked hard, prepared actively, and achieved national unification. By the time of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, we were in a better domestic situation and had improved military preparedness compared to before. Since 1935, our strength has doubled. It increased by more than two to three times since January 1932 or September 1931 [when Japan attacked Shanghai and Mukden]. If peace had been achievable, we should have delayed the war for two or three years. Given an additional three years, our defensive capabilities would have been drastically different... Now, if we merely compare the military strength of China and Japan, we are certainly inferior." However, such assessments were overly optimistic, as Chiang failed to recognize that Japan’s military capabilities would not have stagnated. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Generalissimo Chiang Kai-Shek certainly was dealt a difficult hand of cards for the upcoming poker match he was to play. Yet the Chinese were resilient and they had to be for the absolute horror that would be inflicted upon them from 1937-1945. Until this point, their enemies had been far more lenient, the Empire of Japan would show no mercy.

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

Last time we spoke about Operation Chahar. In the turbulent year of 1935, tensions surged in North China as the Kwantung Army defied Tokyo's orders, encroaching deeper into Chahar province. This period was marked by widespread anti-Japanese sentiments, fueled by local revolts and the assassination of pro-Japanese figures, which infuriated Japanese authorities. On May 20, the Kwantung Army launched an offensive against a bandit group led by Sun Yungqin, seeking to exert control over the demilitarized regions established by earlier agreements. Their swift victory forced the resignation of local officials opposing Japanese interests. As chaos escalated, the Chinese government, under pressure to appease Japan, dismantled anti-Japanese factions and dismissed key leaders. The climax in this saga came with the signing of the He-Umezu Agreement, stripping China of authority in Hubei and Chahar, signaling Japan’s increasing dominance and setting the stage for further exploitation of the region.   #150 The February 26 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. While this podcast is supposed to be given through the Chinese perspective, I apologize but yet again I need to jump over to the Japanese side. You see, a very pivotal moment during the Showa era would occur in the year of 1936. I think it’s crucial to understand it, and the underlying issues of it, to better understand what we will be stuck in for the unforeseeable future, the Second Sino-Japanese War. I’ve briefly mentioned the two factions within the Japanese military at this time, but now I’d really like to jump into them, and a major incident that made them collide. In the aftermath of WW1, 2 prominent factions emerged during this tumultuous period: the Kodoha, or Imperial Way Faction, and the Toseiha, or Control Faction. Each faction represented distinct visions for Japan's future, deeply influencing the nation's course leading up to World War II. The Kodoha rose to prominence in the 1920s, driven by a fervent belief in Japan's divine destiny and its right to expand its imperial reach across Asia. This faction was characterized by its adherence to traditional Japanese values, rooted in the samurai ethos. They viewed the Emperor as the embodiment of Japan's spirit and sought to return to the moral foundations they believed had been eroded by “Western influence”. The Kodoha was often critical of the West, perceiving the encroachment of Western thought and culture as a threat to Japan’s unique identity. Their ideology emphasized a robust military force, advocating for aggressive campaigns in regions like Manchuria and China to assert Japan's dominance. Contrasting sharply with the Kodoha, the Toseiha began to emerge as a more dominant political force in the late 1930s. The Toseiha embraced a pragmatic approach, advocating for a disciplined military that could engage effectively with the complexities of modern warfare. They recognized the importance of retaining some traditional values while also integrating Western military techniques. Rather than rejecting Western influence entirely, the Toseiha believed in adapting to global shifts to ensure Japan’s strength and security. The Toseiha’s moderation extended to their governance strategies, as they prioritized political stability and control over radical ideology. They saw this approach as crucial for creating a robust state capable of managing Japan's expansionist ambitions without provoking the backlash that Kodoha tactics elicited. Their more calculated approach to military expansion included securing partnerships and pursuing diplomatic solutions alongside military action, thereby presenting a less confrontational image to the world. Now after Manchuria was seized and Manchukuo was ushered in, many in the Japanese military saw a crisis emerge, that required a “showa restoration’ to solve. Both factions aimed to create military dictatorships under the emperor. The Kodoha saw the USSR as the number one threat to Japan and advocated an invasion of them, aka the Hokushin-ron doctrine, but the Toseiha faction prioritized a national defense state built on the idea they must build Japans industrial capabilities to face multiple enemies in the future. What really separated the two, was the Kodoha sought to use a violent coup d’etat to make ends meet, whereas the Toseiha were unwilling to go so far. The Kodoha faction was made up mostly of junior and youthful officers, typically country boys as we would call them. These were young men whose families were not the blue bloods, farmer types. They viewed the dramatic changes of Japan in light of their own family experiences, many were impoverished by the dramatic changes. A very specific thing these Kodoha boys hated were the Zaibatsu. The Zaibatsu were large Japanese business conglomerates, primarily active from the Meiji period until WW2. They combined various industries, including banking, manufacturing, and trading. Prominent examples included Mitsubishi and Sumitomo. The reason they hated the Zaibatsu was because they believed they were influenced by western thought and that they super succeeded the authority of the emperor. More or less you can think of it as “we hate the fat cats who are really running things”.   Now the Toseiha faction were willing to work with the Zaibatsu to make Japan stronger. Basically they believed them to just be a necessary evil, you had to play ball to get things rolling. Random note, Hirohito’s brother Prince Chichibu sympathized with the Kodoha faction and repeatedly counseled his brother that he should implement direct imperial rule even if it meant suspending the constitution, aka a show restoration. Hirohito believed his brother who was active in the IJA at the time was being radicalized. Now I cant go through the entire history of it, but this time period is known as the “government by assassination” period for Japan. Military leaders in the IJA, IJN and from within the Kodoha and Toseiha factions kept assassinating politicians and senior officers to push envelopes forward. Stating all of that, I now want to talk about the February 26th incident and I will add I am using a specific source, simply because it's my favorite. That is Herbert P Bix’s Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan. In late 1934, several officers from the Imperial Way faction at the Army Cadet School were arrested for plotting a coup. Although there were no immediate repercussions, the following year, two of the same Kodoha officers, named Isobe Asaichi and Muranaka Takaji were arrested again for distributing a document accusing Toseiha faction officers, like Major General Nagata Tetsuzan, of previously drafting coup plans against the government. This time, the army's upper echelons responded firmly, condemning Isobe and Muranaka's accusations as acts of disloyalty, resulting in both officers losing their commissions. Meanwhile, other Imperial Way officers sought retaliation against Nagata, who was rumored to be planning a major purge to eliminate factionalism within the army. Tatsukichi Minobe was a Japanese statesman and scholar of constitutional law and in the 1930s he began a movement bringing up the very real issue with the Meiji constitution in relation to the role of the emperor. In August 1935, amid a populist movement denouncing Minobe’s interpretation of the constitution, Lt colonel Aizawa Saburo from Kodoha faction entered Nagata’s office and fatally attacked him with his katana. This marked a significant escalation in the military struggle over state reform and the push for increased military funding, which was intertwined with the movement against Minobe. Meanwhile anti- Prime Minister Okada factions within the army, continuing to use slogans like “kokutai clarification” and “denounce the organ theory,” intensified their attacks on the emperor’s advisers and hereditary peers. Senior generals from the Kodoha faction arranged a public court-martial for Aizawa, held by the 1st Division, a group heavily populated by Kodoha officers based in Tokyo. When Aizawa’s trial commenced on January 12, 1936, his defense team transformed it into an emotional condemnation of the Okada cabinet, the court entourage, and Minobe's constitutional theories. This strategy garnered support across the nation, even reaching unexpected places like the imperial palace, where Dowager Empress Teimei Kogo, a staunch rightist, expressed sympathy for Aizawa. However, before the trial could progress, a military mutiny disrupted proceedings in the capital. Shockwaves rippled through the army after Army Minister Hayashi dismissed Kodoha member General Mazaki from his position overseeing military education and ordered the transfer of the 1st Division to Manchuria, which ignited the largest army uprising in modern Japanese history. The uprising was orchestrated through a series of meetings held from February 18 to 22 by key individuals including Nishida, Yasuhide Kurihara, Teruzō Andō, Hisashi Kōno, Takaji Muranaka, and Asaichi Isobe. Their plan was relatively straightforward: the officers would assassinate the most prominent adversaries of the kokutai, seize control of the administrative center of the capital and the Imperial Palace, and present their demands, which included the dismissal of certain officials and the establishment of a new cabinet led by Mazaki. They did not establish long-term goals, believing that those should be determined by the Emperor. However, it is suspected that they were prepared to replace Hirohito with Prince Chichibu if necessary. The young Kodoha officers felt they had at least implicit support from several influential Imperial Japanese Army officers after making informal inquiries. This group included figures such as Araki, Minister of War Yoshiyuki Kawashima, Jinzaburō Mazaki, Tomoyuki Yamashita, Kanji Ishiwara, Shigeru Honjō, as well as their immediate superiors, Kōhei Kashii and Takeo Hori. Later, Kawashima's successor as Minister of War remarked that if all the officers who had endorsed the rebellion were forced to resign, there would not have been enough high-ranking officers left to replace them. To articulate their intentions and grievances, the young officers prepared a document titled "Manifesto of the Uprising" “Kekki Shuisho”, which they intended to present to the Emperor. Although the document was authored by Muranaka, it was written under the name of Shirō Nonaka, the highest-ranking officer involved in the plot. The document aligned with Kokutai Genri-ha ideals, criticizing the genrō, political leaders, military factions, zaibatsu, bureaucrats, and political parties for jeopardizing the kokutai with their selfishness and disregard for the Emperor, and emphasized the need for direct action: “Now, as we face immense foreign and domestic challenges, if we do not eliminate the disloyal and unjust who threaten the kokutai, if we do not remove the villains obstructing the Emperor's authority and hindering the Restoration, the Imperial vision for our nation will come to naught [...] Our duty is to purge the malevolent ministers and military factions surrounding the Emperor and eradicate their influence; we shall fulfill this mission.” Seven targets were selected for assassination for "threatening the kokutai". Keisuke Okada served as Prime Minister, where he notably advocated for the London Naval Treaty and supported the "organ theory" of the kokutai. His actions reflect a commitment to international agreements and specific ideological principles at the time. Saionji Kinmochi, a Genrō and former Prime Minister, also supported the London Naval Treaty. However, his influence extended further, as he played a role in prompting the Emperor to establish inappropriate cabinets, impacting political stability. Makino Nobuaki, the former Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal and Foreign Minister, was another key figure who supported the London Naval Treaty. He notably prevented Prince Fushimi from voicing protests to the Emperor during this period, and he established a court faction in collaboration with Saitō, further entrenching political alliances. In his capacity as Grand Chamberlain, Kantarō Suzuki supported the London Naval Treaty but faced criticism for "obstructing the Imperial virtue," suggesting tensions between political decisions and traditional values. Saitō Makoto, who served as Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal and former Prime Minister, was involved in advocating for the London Naval Treaty and played a significant role in Mazaki's dismissal. He, too, formed a court faction with Makino, indicating the intricacies of court politics. Takahashi Korekiyo, as Finance Minister and former Prime Minister, engaged in party politics with the aim of diminishing military influence. His approach was focused on maintaining the existing economic structure amid the shifting political landscape. Finally, Jōtarō Watanabe, who replaced Mazaki as Inspector General of Military Education, supported the "organ theory" of the kokutai yet faced criticism for refusing to resign, despite being considered unsuitable for his position. On the night of February 25, Tokyo experienced a heavy snowfall, which uplifted the rebel officers as it evoked memories of the 1860 Sakuradamon Incident. During this event, political activists known as shishi assassinated Ii Naosuke, the chief advisor to the Shōgun, in the name of the Emperor. The rebel forces, organized into six groups, began mobilizing their troops and departing from their barracks between 3:30 and 4:00 AM. At 5:00 AM, they launched simultaneous attacks on key targets, including Okada, Takahashi, Suzuki, Saito, the Ministry of War, and the headquarters of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. At around five o’clock on the morning of February 26, 1936, a rebellion erupted, fueled by the long-standing tensions surrounding the kokutai issues that had plagued 1935. Twenty-two junior officers led over 1,400 armed soldiers and non-commissioned officers from three regiments of the 1st Division and an infantry unit of the Imperial Guards in a mutiny in snow-covered Tokyo. The attack on Okada involved a contingent of 280 men from the 1st Infantry Regiment, commanded by 1st Lieutenant Yasuhide Kurihara. The troops encircled the Prime Minister's Residence and compelled its guards to open the gates. Upon entering the compound, they attempted to locate Prime Minister Okada but were met with gunfire from four policemen stationed there. All four policemen were killed, wounding six rebel soldiers in the process. However, the shots served as a warning for Okada, prompting his brother-in-law, Colonel Denzō Matsuo, to help him find refuge. Matsuo, who closely resembled Okada, was eventually discovered by the soldiers and killed. After comparing Matsuo's wounded face to a photograph of the prime minister, the attackers mistakenly believed they had accomplished their mission. Okada managed to escape the following day, but this information was kept confidential, and he did not play any further role in the events. After Matsuo's death, Kurihara's men took up guard positions around the compound, reinforced by sixty soldiers from the 3rd Imperial Guard. In another key operation, Captain Kiyosada Kōda led a group of 160 men to seize control of the Minister of War's residence, the Ministry of War, and the General Staff Office. Upon entering the Minister's residence at 6:30 AM, they demanded to see Minister Kawashima. Once admitted, they read their manifesto aloud and presented a document detailing several demands, including: A prompt resolution to the situation that would further "advance the cause of the Restoration." A call to prevent the use of force against the Righteous Army. The arrest of Kazushige Ugaki (Governor-General of Korea), Jirō Minami (commander of the Kwantung Army), Kuniaki Koiso (commander of the Korean Army), and Yoshitsugu Tatekawa for their roles in undermining military command. The immediate dismissal of Lieutenant Colonel Akira Mutō, Colonel Hiroshi Nemoto, and Major Tadashi Katakura from the Imperial Japanese Army for promoting "factionalism." The appointment of Araki as the new commander of the Kwantung Army. Ugaki, who served as Minister of War during two separate terms, had overseen significant reductions and modernization efforts within the army. He had also failed to support the March Incident plotters, who had hoped to install him as Prime Minister. Minami, Mutō, Nemoto, and Katakura were all influential members of the Tōsei-ha faction; Katakura had been partly responsible for reporting on the Military Academy Incident. Later that morning, Isobe encountered Katakura outside the Ministry of War and shot him non-fatally in the head. During this tumultuous period, several officers sympathetic to the rebels, including General Mazaki, General Tomoyuki Yamashita, and General Ryū Saitō, joined the uprising. Saitō praised the young officers' spirit and encouraged Kawashima to accept their demands. Shortly before 9:00 am, Kawashima indicated he needed to speak with the Emperor and left for the Imperial Palace. Meanwhile, Captain Hisashi Kōno led a team of seven, comprised mostly of civilians, to attack Makino Nobuaki, who was staying at Kōfūsō, part of the ryokan Itōya in Yugawara, Kanagawa Prefecture, with his family. Arriving at 5:45 am, they stationed two men outside while entering the inn with weapons drawn. Inside, policemen opened fire, leading to a lengthy exchange of gunfire. A policeman managed to alert Makino and his party of the danger, guiding them to a rear exit. Although the assassins fired at the escaping group, Makino successfully evaded capture. Kōno sustained a gunshot wound to the chest, and one policeman, Yoshitaka Minagawa, was killed. As Kōno was evacuated from the scene, the assailants set fire to the building. Hearing a gunshot, Kōno assumed that Makino had shot himself inside. After his recovery at a nearby military hospital, Kōno and his team were arrested by military police. Around 10:00 am, Kurihara and Nakahashi loaded a fleet of three trucks with sixty men and drove from the Prime Minister's Residence to the offices of the Asahi Shimbun, a significant liberal newspaper. They stormed the building, ordering the evacuation of employees and declaring their actions as "divine retribution for being an un-Japanese newspaper." The rebels then overturned and scattered the newspaper's type trays, containing 4,000 different characters, temporarily halting its publication. Following this attack, the men distributed copies of the uprising's manifesto to nearby newspapers before returning to the Prime Minister's Residence. On another front, 1st Lieutenant Motoaki Nakahashi of the 3rd Imperial Guard gathered 135 men and, under the pretext of paying respects at Yasukuni Shrine, marched to Takahashi Korekiyo’s residence. There, he divided his forces, sending one group to attack while the other remained to guard the entrance. After breaking into the compound, Nakahashi and Lieutenant Kanji Nakajima found Takahashi in bed, where Nakahashi shot him while Nakajima delivered a fatal sword strike. Takahashi died without waking. Once his target was eliminated, Nakahashi regrouped with the soldiers and proceeded to the Imperial Palace, aiming to secure it. Entering through the western Hanzō Gate at 6:00 am, Nakahashi informed Major Kentarō Honma, the palace guard commander, that he had been dispatched to reinforce the gates due to earlier attacks. Honma, already aware of the uprisings, accepted Nakahashi’s arrival. He was assigned to help secure the Sakashita Gate, the primary entrance to the Emperor's residence. Nakahashi planned to signal nearby rebel troops at police headquarters once he controlled access to the Emperor. However, he struggled to contact his allies, and by 8:00 am, Honma learned of his involvement in the uprising and ordered him, at gunpoint, to vacate the palace grounds. Nakahashi complied and returned to join Kurihara at the Prime Minister's Residence, while his soldiers remained at the gate until relieved later that day, preventing their inclusion in the government's official count of rebel forces. Elsewhere, 1st Lieutenant Naoshi Sakai led a detachment of 120 men from the 3rd Infantry Regiment to Saitō Makoto's home in Yotsuya. After surrounding the policemen on guard, five soldiers entered the residence and found Saitō and his wife, Haruko, in their bedroom. They shot Saitō dead, prompting Haruko to plead for her life, saying, "Please kill me instead!" While they pulled her away, she was unwittingly wounded by stray gunfire. Following Saitō's assassination, two officers directed another group to target General Watanabe, while the remaining men moved to strategically position themselves northeast of the Ministry of War. In Kōjimachi, Captain Teruzō Andō commanded 200 men from the 3rd Infantry Regiment to assault Suzuki's residence across from the Imperial Palace. After disarming the police on duty, they located Suzuki in his bedroom and shot him twice. When Andō moved to deliver the coup de grâce with his sword, Suzuki’s wife implored to be allowed to do it herself, believing her husband to be fatally wounded. Andō obliged and, apologizing for the act, explained it was for the nation’s sake. After saluting Suzuki, the soldiers left to guard the Miyakezaka junction north of the Ministry of War. Following the assault on Saitō, a party of twenty men, led by 2nd Lieutenants Tarō Takahashi and Yutaka Yasuda, headed to Watanabe’s residence in Ogikubo after 7:00 AM. Despite the two-hour delay since previous attacks, no measures had been taken to alert Watanabe. As they attempted to storm the front entrance, military police inside opened fire, wounding Yasuda and another soldier. The troops then gained entry through the rear, confronting Watanabe's wife outside their bedroom. After shoving her aside, they found Watanabe using a futon as cover. He opened fire, prompting one soldier to retaliate with a light machine gun. Takahashi then rushed in and fatally stabbed Watanabe, witnessed by his nine-year-old daughter, Kazuko, who hid nearby. The soldiers departed, taking their wounded to a hospital before positioning themselves in northern Nagatachō. In a significant move, Captain Shirō Nonaka led nearly a third of the rebel forces, comprising 500 men from the 3rd Infantry Regiment, to assault the Tokyo Metropolitan Police headquarters. Their objective was to secure communication equipment and prevent dispatch of the police's Emergency Service Unit. Meeting no resistance, they quickly occupied the building, possibly due to a strategic decision to leave the situation in the military's hands. After securing the police headquarters, 2nd Lieutenant Kinjirō Suzuki led a small group to attack Fumio Gotō’s residence, the Home Minister's, but found that Gotō was not home, thus allowing him to escape. This attack appeared to result from Suzuki's independent decision, rather than a coordinated effort among the officers. Despite all of these actions, the Kodoha boys had failed to secure the Sakashita Gate to the palace, which allowed the palace to maintain communication with the outside world, and they neglected to address potential naval interventions. At the Yokosuka naval base, Rear Adm. Yonai Mitsumasa and his chief of staff, Inoue Shigeyoshi, positioned marines to defend the Navy Ministry and prepared warships in Tokyo Bay to suppress the rebellion. By the morning of February 28, after unsuccessful negotiations through sympathetic officers at army headquarters, the commander under martial law transmitted an imperial order to disperse. Most troops returned to their barracks, one officer committed suicide, and the remaining leaders surrendered, resulting in the uprising ending with minimal further violence. Nevertheless, martial law in Tokyo continued for nearly five months. The rebel officers had initially planned for General Kawashima, a staunch ally of the Kodoha, to relay their intentions to the emperor, who they assumed would issue a decree for a “Showa restoration.” Despite their radical objectives of overthrowing the political order, the mutineers, like other military and civilian extremists of the 1930s, sought to operate within the imperial framework and maintain the kokutai. They believed the emperor was under the control of his advisers and lacked a genuine will of his own. Once the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal and the Grand Chamberlain were removed, they expected the emperor to appoint General Mazaki as prime minister, a leader they believed would reinforce the military and effectively address the China issue. At the onset of the insurrection, they had a real chance of success. The Tokyo military police commander, General Kashii Kohei, sympathized with their cause, and the emperor’s chief aide, General Honjo, was related to rebel officer Capain Yamaguchi Ichitaro. Support for the mutineers was present at military bases nationwide. Historian Hata Ikuhiko notes that the rebels contacted General Honjo by both phone and written message before attacking the Okada cabinet. As the first in the imperial entourage to learn of the mutiny, Honjo could have warned the intended targets but chose not to do so. By the time he arrived at court at 6:00 am. on the 26th, key advisors like Chief Secretary Kido, Imperial Household Minister Yuasa Kurahei, and Vice Grand Chamberlain Hirohata Tadakata were already aware of the potential danger. Suzuki was murdered, and the emperor was deeply affected, awakening to the news at 5:40 am from the chamberlain on night duty, Kanroji Osanaga. He learned that his old ministers had been attacked and a coup was underway. Upon receiving this information, Hirohito resolved to suppress the uprising. He was outraged by the killing of his ministers and feared that the rebels might use his brother, Prince Chichibu, to force him to abdicate. He donned his army uniform and summoned Honjo, ordering him to “end it immediately and turn this misfortune into a blessing.” Hirohito adopted a strategy proposed by Kido, who had acted swiftly earlier that morning, instructing Honjo to assess the Imperial Guard Division's potential actions if the mutineers advanced on the Palace. Kido aimed to prevent the establishment of a new provisional cabinet until the mutiny was fully quelled. At 9:30 am Army Minister Kawashima, who had previously met with one of the rebel officers, arrived at court. He urged the emperor to form a cabinet that would “clarify the kokutai, stabilize national life, and fulfill national defense.” Surprised by Kawashima's tone, Hirohito reprimanded him for not prioritizing the suppression of the mutiny. He also expressed his frustration to Chief of the Navy General Staff Prince Fushimi, dismissing him when he inquired about forming a new cabinet. Later that day, Kawashima met with the Supreme Military Council, consisting mainly of army officers sympathetic to the rebels. The council decided to attempt persuasion before relaying the emperor’s orders a move contrary to Hirohito's directive. According to historian Otabe Yuji, an “instruction” was issued to the rebel officers at 10:50 am, acknowledging their motives and suggesting the emperor might show them leniency. This message was communicated to the ringleaders by martial law commander General Kashii. That evening, when members of the Okada cabinet came to submit their resignations, Hirohito insisted they remain in power until the mutiny was resolved. On February 27, the second day of the uprising, Hirohito announced “administrative martial law” based on Article 8 of the Imperial Constitution. This invoked his sovereign powers to address the crisis while freeing him from needing cabinet approval for his actions. Hirohito displayed remarkable energy throughout the subsequent days, sending chamberlains to summon Honjo for updates and threatening to lead the Imperial Guard Division himself when dissatisfied with the reports. Honjo, however, resisted the emperor’s demands and exhibited sympathy for the rebels. During the uprising, Hirohito met with Prince Chichibu, who had recently returned from Hirosaki. Their discussions reportedly led Chichibu to distance himself from the rebels. However, rumors of his sympathy for them persisted, leading to concerns about potential conflicts within the imperial family. On the second day, Rear Admiral Yonai and his chief of staff demonstrated their loyalty to Hirohito. By February 29, the fourth day of the uprising, Hirohito had reasserted his authority, troops were returning to their barracks, and most rebel leaders were captured. Seventeen of these leaders were court-martialed and executed in July without legal representation. Shortly after, during the obon festival, Hirohito allegedly instructed a military aide to secure seventeen obon lanterns for the palace. This action, though secret, may have provided him some personal comfort amidst the turmoil. An investigation following the mutiny revealed that the rebels’ sense of crisis was amplified by the recent general elections, which had shown an anti-military sentiment among voters. Despite their populist rhetoric, most ringleaders were not motivated by the agricultural depression; their goal was to support the kokutai by advocating for increased military rearmament. During this period, military spending steadily rose from 3.47% of GNP in 1931 to 5.63% in 1936. Intriguingly, the ringleaders and their senior commanders shared a desire for state control over production to mobilize resources fully for total war. While united in this goal, their ideas about how to achieve a “Showa restoration” varied greatly, with some leaders, like Isobe, calling for complete economic consolidation and a return to strong state power. The February mutiny reinforced Hirohito’s belief in the constitutional framework that underpinned his military authority. He became increasingly cautious about decisions that could compromise his command and developed closer ties to the army's Control faction, justifying military spending increases. Yet, the memory of the mutiny left him feeling uncertain about the throne’s stability. Now you know me, whenever I can bring up Hirohito’s involvement in the war related times I gotta do. After WW2, in an apparent effort to downplay his role as supreme commander, Hirohito provided a deliberately distorted account of the February events. “I issued an order at that time for the rebel force to be suppressed. This brings to mind Machida Chuji, the finance minister. He was very worried about the rebellion’s adverse effect on the money market and warned me that a panic could occur unless I took firm measures. Therefore I issued a strong command to have [the uprising] put down. As a rule, because a suppression order also involves martial law, military circles, who cannot issue such an order on their own, need the mutual consent of the government. However, at the time, Okada’s whereabouts were unknown. As the attitude of the Army Ministry seemed too lenient, I issued a strict order. Following my bitter experiences with the Tanaka cabinet, I had decided always to wait for the opinions of my advisers before making any decision, and not to go against their counsel. Only twice, on this occasion and at the time of the ending of the war, did I positively implement my own ideas. Ishiwara Kanji of the Army General Staff Office also asked me, through military aide Chojiri [Kazumoto], to issue a suppression order. I don’t know what sort of a person Ishiwara is, but on this occasion he was correct, even though he had been the instigator of the Manchurian Incident. Further, my chief military aide, Honjo, brought me the plan drafted by Yamashita Hobun, in which Yamashita asked me to please send an examiner because the three leaders of the rebel army were likely to commit suicide. However, I thought that sending an examiner would imply that they had acted according to their moral convictions and were deserving of respect. . . . So I rejected Honjo’s proposal, and [instead] issued the order to suppress them. I received no report that generals in charge of military affairs had gone and urged the rebels to surrender.”  On February 26, when Hirohito ordered the immediate suppression of the rebels, his anger was directed not only at the insurgents who had assassinated his closest advisors but also at senior army officers who were indecisive in executing the crackdown. The following day, in addition to his role as Minister of Commerce and Industry, Machida took on the responsibilities of finance minister. Concerns over economic panic and confusion contributed to the emperor's sense of urgency, despite not being the primary motivation for his actions. Hirohito believed that every hour of delay tarnished Japan’s international reputation. Since the Manchurian Incident, the emperor had frequently clashed with the military regarding encroachments on his authority, though never about fundamental policy issues. At times, he had managed to assert his political views during policy discussions, similar to his earlier influence under the Hamaguchi cabinet. The February 26 mutiny highlighted to Hirohito and Yuasa his privy seal from March 1936 to June 1940, and the first lord keeper of the privy seal to attend court regularly the necessity of fully exercising the emperor’s supreme command whenever the situation demanded it. Even when faced with opposition from Honjo, Hirohito managed to gain support and assert his authority through a decisive approach. His resolution marked the end of a period during which alienated “young officers” attempted to leverage his influence as a reformist figure to challenge a power structure they could not manipulate effectively. However, Hirohito learned how to adeptly manage that establishment in most situations. The decision-making process within the government was characterized by secrecy, indirect communication, vague policy drafting, and information manipulation, creating a landscape of confusion, misunderstanding, and constant intrigue aimed at achieving consensus among elites. This was the modus operandi in Tokyo and a reflection of how the emperor operated. Once again, Hirohito reminded the tightly-knit elite that he was essential to the functioning of the system. On May 4, 1936, during his address at the opening ceremony of the Sixty-ninth Imperial Diet, while Tokyo remained under martial law, Hirohito closed the chapter on the February mutiny. Initially, he contemplated sending a strong message of censure to the military, but after considerable deliberation over three months, he ultimately chose to issue a brief, innocuous statement: “We regret the recent incident that occurred in Tokyo.” The response from his audience of Diet members and military officials was one of startled awe, with some privately expressing disappointment. Once again, at a critical juncture, Hirohito avoided an opportunity to publicly rein in the military through his constitutional role. Nonetheless, due to his behind-the-scenes actions, the drift in domestic policy that had characterized Japan since the Manchurian Incident came to an end. In the following fourteen months, the emperor and his advisors largely aligned with the army and navy's demands for increased military expansion and state-driven industrial development. 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. So some very unruly young Japanese officers got the bright idea of forcing a showa restoration by killing all the culprits they believed held their emperor hostage. Little did they know, this event spelt the end of the Kodoha faction and rise of the Toseiha faction. Henceforth the military was even more in charge and would get even more insane.   

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