Age of Conquest: A Kings and Generals Podcast

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3.200 Fall and Rise of China: The Battle of Yaoyi May 04, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the battle of West Suiyuan. The Ma Clique, Muslim warlords controlling Northwest China, led by Ma Hongkui and Ma Hongbin, rebuffed Japanese overtures to ally, citing historical grievances like the 1900 invasion. Driven by patriotism, they aligned with the Nationalists, reorganizing forces into the 17th Army Group. In 1938, Ma Hongbin commanded West Suiyuan defenses, building fortifications in harsh desert and mountain terrain, blending cavalry tactics with modern training despite equipment shortages. In January 1940, Japanese and puppet troops advanced from Baotou, occupying Wuyuan and Linhe. Chinese forces, including Fu Zuoyi's 35th Army and Ma's 81st Army, employed guerrilla and mobile warfare. A major counterattack in March recaptured Wuyuan, killing Lt. Gen. Mizukawa and thousands, forcing Japanese retreat. Through ambushes and night raids, the Chinese recovered territories, securing Soviet aid routes and the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia region. Over 2,000 Ningxia soldiers perished, their sacrifices underscoring peripheral fronts' role in national resistance. #200 The battle of Yaoyi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After capturing Wuhan, the Japanese army had already stretched itself dangerously thin. Most regular and Class A reserve divisions were committed to the front, yet they failed to annihilate the main Chinese force. Despite losing its core industrial and resource regions, the Nationalist government in Chongqing refused Japan's peace terms. Japan now found itself trapped in the very protracted war it had desperately sought to avoid. The logical Japanese response was to halt major advances, consolidate control over occupied areas, and conduct limited offensives to pressure Chiang Kai-shek into negotiations—essentially repeating the post-Nanjing strategy of late 1937. But the situation had deteriorated sharply: occupied territory had at least doubled, Japanese garrisons were inadequate, and strategic reserves were nearly exhausted. What might have been prudent a year earlier had become plainly unwise by late 1938. To stabilize the front, Japan reorganized its China Expeditionary Army at the end of 1938. Large numbers of newly raised independent mixed brigades and lower-quality Class B reserve divisions were sent to relieve veteran regular and Class A divisions. The relieved units were either demobilized back to Japan or shifted north to reinforce the Kwantung Army against the Soviet threat. By early 1940 Japan maintained roughly 24 divisions, 21 independent mixed brigades, and 2 cavalry brigades in China proper (excluding Manchuria), totaling nearly 800,000 ground troops. The enormous scale and expense strained the home economy severely. Even so, the vast occupied zones could not be effectively controlled: divisions often held only a single mobile battalion while dispersing the rest into scattered platoon- and squad-sized outposts. Guerrilla activity by both Nationalist and Communist forces not only persisted but intensified, occasionally clashing with each other in "friction" incidents. Beyond mere occupation, Japan sought to wear down Chinese strength. With most elite Central Army units held in reserve in the southwest or around Wuhan, Japanese local offensives targeted the Fifth and Ninth War Zones, aiming to methodically destroy Chiang's best troops. Thus, while other Japanese armies focused on garrison relief and brigade substitution, the 11th Army—still holding Wuhan with seven divisions and three brigades—remained the main offensive instrument. In 1939 it captured Nanchang, then mounted major operations against the Fifth War Zone (Suizao Campaign) and Ninth War Zone (First Battle of Changsha). Except for the seizure of Nanchang, however, these offensives inflicted only limited and temporary damage on Chinese forces. Japan's domestic economy was in even worse shape. In early 1937, it had approved a massive 2.4 billion yen naval and army rebuilding program aimed at countering the United States and Russia, but implementation had barely started when the Sino-Japanese War erupted. The conflict generated enormous war costs while military expansion continued unabated, rapidly draining the Bank of Japan's gold reserves. By the end of 1938, those reserves (valued at just 1.35 billion yen) had shrunk by more than two-thirds. To fund the Battle of Wuhan that year, Japan postponed key elements of the rebuilding plan. After Wuhan fell, the Army revised its wartime reorganization: the original target of forty divisions grew to fifty-five by early 1938, then to sixty-five divisions plus 164 Army Air Force squadrons by 1942. The funding required to equip and stockpile for this expansion escalated steadily; the 1939 expansion budget alone demanded 1.8 billion yen, pushing Japanese finances to the breaking point. Japan repeatedly sought a way out of China, but its peace terms remained far beyond what Chongqing would accept, leaving negotiations stalled. Efforts to install puppet regimes in North and Central China—culminating in the Wang Jingwei government in 1940—aimed to "use Chinese to control Chinese" and undermine Nationalist influence, yet produced disappointing results. The 11th Army's 1939 campaigns yielded only mediocre outcomes, hampered by chronic troop shortages. Even its divisions were tied down in occupation duties; mounting a serious offensive required pulling garrison forces, leaving no reserves to hold the line unless new units arrived. Sustained large-scale operations to seriously weaken Chinese strength demanded a major troop increase—otherwise, Japan was limited to shallow, localized attacks. Lt. Gen. Yasuji Okamura, commanding the 11th Army, recognized this clearly. In a December 1939 report, he argued that diplomacy and small offensives were futile and urged a large-scale operation backed by substantial reinforcements. His superiors, however, were preoccupied with funding the broader military buildup and could offer no extra men. The post-Wuhan "defensiveization" of operations was largely a cost-saving measure to support that expansion. Japanese ground strength in China, which peaked near 850,000 after Wuhan, had already dropped by about 50,000. Full-strength regular or Class A divisions numbered roughly 22,000 men (four regiments), while newer garrison divisions had only about 15,000 (three regiments), and independent mixed brigades just 6,000. Okamura's proposal was sensible but politically impossible; high command was even contemplating slashing China troop levels to 400,000. The Chinese Winter Offensive of December 1939, together with counterattacks at Nanning and Kunlun Pass, inflicted serious losses and exposed the limited damage done to Chinese forces in 1939 operations. The recapture of Wuyuan in March 1940 signaled the start of a new phase. Shortly afterward, intensified Chinese guerrilla raids deep into Japanese rear areas prompted large Japanese "mop-up" operations in southern Shanxi, central Hubei, southern Jiangxi, and northern Hunan. In the Wuhan sector, repeated blows from the Winter Offensive heightened fears of Chinese forces in the Dahong and Tongbai Mountains, which threatened control over the vital Jianghan Plains rice-producing region. In mid-April 1940, the Japanese abandoned outposts at Macheng (eastern Hubei), Fengxin, and Jing'an (northern Jiangxi), withdrew elements of the 6th Division (northern Hunan), 40th Division (northern Jiangxi), and the 3rd, 13th, and 39th Divisions (Hubei), and concentrated them around Zhongxiang, Suixian, and Xinyang for a maximum-effort push. These setbacks finally forced Tokyo to abandon deep troop reductions in China and approve reinforcements of two regular divisions for a major 1940 offensive. The revised end-1940 target became 740,000 troops in China. In spring 1940, the 11th Army—backed fully by Imperial General Headquarters and the China Expeditionary Army—began detailed preparations for a large-scale assault on China's Fifth War Zone. On February 25, 1940, the 11th Army issued its "Guiding Strategy for the Campaign." The operational goal was to defeat the main force of China's Fifth War Zone along both banks of the Han River before the rainy season, inflict further heavy losses on Chiang Kai-shek's army through decisive victory, and thereby advance Japan's overall political and strategic position vis-à-vis China. The guiding principle called for the quickest possible preparations, with the offensive to begin around early May: first destroy Chinese forces on the left (east) bank south of the Baihe River, then completely annihilate the core units on the right (west) bank near Yichang. On April 7, under the new commander Lt. Gen. Sonobe Kazuo (who replaced Okamura Yasuji), the 11th Army produced a more detailed plan. On April 10, Imperial General Headquarters Order No. 426 ("Continental Order") authorized the China Expeditionary Army to conduct operations in central and southern China during May–June, even beyond established boundaries, to fulfill current objectives. Japanese planners viewed the Fifth War Zone—roughly 50 divisions encircling Wuhan—with its main strength concentrated along the Han (Xiang) River in northwestern Hubei. Striking Yichang would deliver a severe blow to the zone. As the gateway to Sichuan, only 480 km from Chongqing, Yichang held immense strategic value: an inland port, Three Gorges logistics hub, and key base for air raids on Chongqing. Capturing it would directly threaten the Nationalist wartime capital and southwestern rear, advancing political leverage. Still, long-term occupation was not pre-decided; initial plans stressed inflicting maximum damage followed by withdrawal, in line with the post-Wuhan policy of avoiding permanent overextension. China, aware that holding the Jianghan Plain's rice-producing areas enabled sustained attrition against Japan, deployed guerrilla units to harass Japanese rear areas (increasing occupier losses) while tasking the River Defense Force to hold key front-line points: Jingmen, Shashi, and Yichang. To achieve these aims, the 11th Army committed as much as possible of its seven divisions and four brigades (88 battalions total). Core units included the 3rd Division (Maj. Gen. Yamakoshi Masataka; regiments 6, 18, 34, 68), 13th Division (Maj. Gen. Tanaka Shioichi; 58, 65, 104, 116), 39th Division (Maj. Gen. Murakami Keisaku; 231–233), elements of the 40th Division, detachments from the 33rd and 34th Divisions, and others. Reinforcements comprised the Ikeda Detachment (three battalions from 6th Division), Ishimoto Detachment (four–five from 40th), Ogawa Detachment (two from 34th), and Provisional Mixed Brigade 101. Supporting assets included the 6th Field Heavy Artillery Regiment, 7th and 13th Tank Regiments, 3rd Air Group, Navy 1st China Dispatch Fleet, and 2nd Combined Air Team. The China Expeditionary Army transferred seven battalions from the 15th and 22nd Divisions (13th Army, lower Yangtze). The main effort north of the river involved roughly 48–54 battalions, or 80,000–110,000 men, making the Zaoyi (Zaoyang–Yichang) Campaign the largest Japanese operation on the central front since Wuhan. Sonobe's staff structured the offensive in two phases. Phase One targeted the Fifth War Zone's main force around Zaoyang (east of the Han River) through converging pincer movements: right flank from Xinyang (reinforced 3rd Division), left flank from Zhongxiang (reinforced 13th Division), and central thrust by the reinforced 39th Division from Suixian. The plan exploited terrain—Dahong and Tongbai Mountains—for encirclement. After seizing Minggang (right flank) and advancing from Zhongxiang (left), the pincers would close on Zaoyang, with the center (along the Xianghua Highway from Suixian) drawing Chinese forces into the trap for envelopment. Diversionary attacks south of the Yangtze, propaganda hinting at limited scope, and planted false orders helped mask intentions. Japanese radio intelligence—intercepts and direction-finding of Chinese headquarters signals—provided critical advantages, especially in later stages. By March 1940, Chinese intelligence had already detected the 11th Army's intent to mount a major offensive from Xinyang and Wuhan into northwestern Hubei. On April 10, Chiang Kai-shek telegraphed Li Zongren and other Fifth War Zone commanders, urging immediate preparations for a preemptive strike against any push toward Shapingba and Yichang. He emphasized proactive flanking attacks on Japanese rear areas via Wusheng Pass and threats to the Pinghan Railway, while keeping main forces east of the Han River for decisive engagement once the enemy committed. Following Military Commission directives, the Fifth War Zone devised a plan that used part of its strength for forward advances and deep raids into Japanese rear areas to harass and divert. The bulk of forces would hold the rear, seizing chances for preemptive strikes and a decisive battle east of Zaoyang or south of Jingmen–Dangyang. Deployments included: the 33rd Army Group garrisoning the Xiang River; in the center, the 45th Corps (22nd Army Group) west of Luoyangdian–Suixian and the 84th Corps (11th Army Group) north of Suixian–south of Gaocheng; in southern Henan, the 30th Corps east of Tongbai and the 68th Corps north of Pingchangguan–Minggang; the 41st Corps in reserve near Xiangyang; the 29th Army Group (with part garrisoning north of Tongqiao Zhen–Sanyangtien) concentrated in the Dahong Mountains; and the 31st Army Group positioned between Queshan and Ye Hsien as the mobile force to strike invaders. River Defense Army commander Guo Chan controlled the 26th, 75th, and 94th Armies, the 128th Division, and the 6th and 7th Guerrilla Columns. Total Chinese strength approximated 350,000–380,000 men across roughly 50–54 divisions. To mask preparations and mislead, the Japanese conducted a late-April "mop-up" near Jiujiang, staged naval feints on Poyang and Dongting Lakes, and bombed key points in Hunan and Jiangxi, simulating an imminent Ninth War Zone operation. With forces assembled, the Japanese offensive began May 1, 1940, from Xinyang, Suixian, and Zhongxiang. The advance split into five routes: (1) Changtaiguan–Minggang–Biyang–Tanghe; (2) Xinyang–Tongbai; (3) Suixian–Zaoyang; (4) Suixian–Wujiadien; (5) Zhongxiang–Shuangkou. Employing flanking with central breakthrough, the reinforced 3rd Division (right flank, including Ishimoto Detachment from 40th Division with tanks and engineers) spearheaded from Xinyang toward Biyang, breaching the Chinese Second Army front on day one. By May 1, elements of the 3rd and 40th Divisions captured Minggang, Lion's Bridge, and Xiaolintien; on May 5 they took Biyang and Tongbai. The Chinese 31st Army Group (northeast of Biyang) linked with the 68th and 92nd Corps to hit Japanese flanks and rear. Leaving some forces west of Tongbai to press the enemy, the main 30th Corps struck Japanese flanks. After seizing Tanghe on May 7, the Japanese pushed south toward Zaoyang. On May 8–9, the 31st Army Group retook Tanghe and Xinye, pursuing vigorously. On May 8, the Jap…

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3.199 Fall and Rise of China: Battle of West Suiyuan Apr 27, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the battle of south Guangxi. In late 1939, amid the Sino-Japanese War stalemate, Japan aimed to sever China's vital supply lines from French Indochina by invading southern Guangxi. The 21st Army, including the 5th Division and Taiwan Mixed Brigade landed at Qinzhou Bay on November 15, capturing Nanning by November 24 after feinting at Beihai and overcoming scattered Chinese defenses under the 16th Army Group. Chinese forces, commanded by Bai Chongxi and reinforced by the elite 5th Army launched a counteroffensive in December. The brutal Battle of Kunlun Pass saw repeated assaults. However, Japanese counterattacks in January 1940, bolstered by the 18th Division and Konoye Brigade, recaptured Kunlun Pass and Binyang by February, inflicting over 10,000 Chinese losses and forcing retreats. A stalemate ensued until September 1940, when Japan pressured Indochina. Overextended Japanese forces withdrew south, allowing Chinese to recapture Nanning on October 30 and clear Guangxi by November 17. #199 The battle of West Suiyuan Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Back in 1936, the Xi'an Incident had forced a fragile alliance between the Nationalists under Chiang Kai-shek and the Communists, forming a united front against Japan. This front extended to regional warlords like the Ma Clique, who controlled Ningxia, Gansu, and Qinghai. The Ma family, descendants of Muslim generals loyal to the Qing Dynasty, navigated complex loyalties but ultimately aligned with the Nationalist cause, driven by patriotism and self-preservation. The stakes in West Suiyuan were high. Control of the region meant access to the Suiyuan-Xinjiang Highway, a lifeline for Soviet aid to China. Japanese occupation could threaten the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Border Region, a Communist stronghold, and open paths to Lanzhou and beyond. The battles here, though overshadowed by larger theaters like Shanghai or Wuhan, demonstrated how peripheral fronts contributed to the national resistance. Over 70 years later, the sacrifices of more than 2,000 Ningxia soldiers remain a poignant reminder of the human cost of resistance, their anti-Japanese merits etched forever in the annals of Chinese history. The seeds of the Battle of West Suiyuan were sown in the turbulent years following the Xi'an Incident. This event in December 1936 led to the initial formation of a national united front against Japanese aggression. The Communist Party of China (CPC) mobilized masses in the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Border Region, strengthening anti-Japanese forces and exerting pressure on the Ma Clique. Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist government also influenced the Mas, solidifying their resolve to resist Japan. The Ma Clique, a powerful Muslim warlord faction in Northwest China, was led by figures like Ma Hongkui (governor of Ningxia) and his cousin Ma Hongbin. They controlled a semi-autonomous region with a mix of Hui, Han, and Mongolian populations. Japan, seeking to exploit ethnic divisions, attempted to woo the Mas. Even after the July 7, 1937, outbreak of war, Japan persisted. On October 17, 1937, after occupying Baotou, the Japanese established the "Baotou Hui Muslim Branch" and appointed Jiang Wenhuan, a former Hui commander, to court Ma Hongkui. They sent envoys, including an imam from Northeast China, and even airdropped letters from "Manchukuo." In a dramatic move, Japanese commander Itagaki Seishiro flew to Alashan Banner to invite Ma Hongkui for talks. Ma sent Zhou Baihuang, who rebuffed Itagaki by invoking historical grievances: the Japanese role in the Eight-Nation Alliance's 1900 invasion, where Ma family members died at Zhengyang Gate. "The family feud remains unresolved, and the national humiliation is yet to be avenged; they are irreconcilable enemies," Zhou declared. Japan's plot to persuade surrender failed, leading to a major offensive against Suiyuan and Ningxia. Large numbers of troops reinforced Baotou, and bombings targeted Ningxia. In response, Ma Hongkui began building fortifications in places like Shizuishan and Dengkou. Starting in the winter of 1937, he constructed defense fortifications in the Shizuishan area in four phases. In the Shizuishan Weizha area, trenches several meters wide and deep were dug, covered with branches, straw, and loose soil for camouflage, to prevent the passage of Japanese armored vehicles and heavy weapons. Within a hundred li north of Dengkou and Sanshenggong, all major roads were cut off, and deep trenches were dug to destroy the Japanese army's access to Ningxia. The banks of the Yellow River ferry crossings in northern Ningxia and the Helan Mountain passages were all cut into steep cliffs. Important passageways were fortified with blocking positions and hidden artillery to repel invading Japanese troops. Among the various military commanders in Northwest China, Ma Hongbin possessed the strongest anti-Japanese spirit. Having joined the army at a young age, Ma Hongbin placed great emphasis on cultural learning and the cultivation of his personal character. Outside of military service, he was always seen with a book in hand, resembling a scholar. His long-term study fostered his upright character and patriotism. After the Japanese invasion of China, deeply moved by the nation's peril, he resolved to lead his troops to the battlefield to save the country from its crisis. In the spring of 1938, at the opening ceremony of an officer training course held in Wanghongbao, Yongning, Ma Hongbin addressed his subordinates from the podium: "Always remember that the nation comes first, the people come first, defend the land and country, and fulfill your duties. On the battlefield, you must be able to both attack and defend, and be prepared to live and die with the position, with the determination to fight to the end." The Ma forces were reorganized into the Nationalist structure. Ma Hongkui's 15th Route Army and Ma Hongbin's 35th Division (later expanded to the 81st Army) formed the 17th Army Group, with Ma Hongkui as Commander-in-Chief and Ma Hongbin as Deputy Commander-in-Chief and Commander of the 81st Army. The officer training of the 81st Army improved the anti-Japanese consciousness and combat quality of the entire army, preparing for the counterattack against the Japanese invasion. In May 1938, due to the weakened defenses of Suiyuan (at that time, the troops of Fu Zuoyi, the chairman of Suiyuan Province, had retreated to Shanxi), most of the area was occupied by Japanese and puppet troops. The Kuomintang Central Committee appointed Ma Hongbin as the commander of the Suiyuan West Defense Command. Ma Hongbin led his 81st Army and two cavalry brigades and one infantry brigade of Ma Hongkui's troops to Wuyuan (now Wuyuan County, Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region) to unify the command of the various anti-Japanese forces that had retreated into Suiyuan West. His mission was to prevent the Japanese army from advancing westward. After arriving in Wuyuan, Ma Hongbin convened a meeting of commanders from various forces to discuss the defense against the Japanese. The various armies in western Suiyuan were of different factions and not affiliated with each other, and most adopted a policy of seeking safety and avoiding danger in their defenses. Ma Hongbin deployed the main force of his 81st Army, the 35th Division, at key passes in the Wubu Langshan area northeast of Wuyuan to serve as the first line of defense, while deploying three brigades of Ma Hongkui's troops along the line from Wuyuan to Langshan as reinforcements. The terrain was challenging: vast deserts, mountains like Yinshan and Langshan, and the Yellow River's bends. Wubulangkou, a narrow pass between Erlang and Chashitai Mountains, was strategically vital. Defenses included anti-tank trenches and mines. These preparations reflected the Ningxia Army's blend of traditional cavalry tactics and modern training. The troops, many Hui Muslims, brought cultural cohesion and resilience, but faced equipment shortages—outdated mortars and rifles versus Japanese mechanization. In May 1938, Ma Hongbin arrived in Linhe (now part of Bayannur, Inner Mongolia) to establish his command post. After inspecting the situation of the friendly forces in the defense zone and designating the defense zone of his subordinate 81st Army, he ordered Ma Tengjiao, commander of the 35th Division, to lead four infantry regiments, namely the 103rd and 104th Brigades, to Suiyuan Western Defense Command to fight against the Japanese. Ma Hongbin established a command post in Linhe, where he and his son, Ma Dunjing, the chief of staff of the 81st Army, deployed their troops in areas such as Wuzhen and Siyitang. Ma Dunjing directed his troops to conduct exercises in the Wuzhen and Siyitang area, and invited Soviet military advisors to provide guidance, preparing for combat with an extremely serious attitude. To show his support for Ma Hongbin's leadership of the Suiyuan Western Defense Command, Ma Hongkui dispatched two cavalry brigades to Suiyuan Western Defense Command. The main reason why the Ma Clique army from Ningxia went to Suiyuan to fight against the Japanese was that the defense of Suiyuan was directly related to the safety of Ningxia. At the same time, after the Ma Clique army was incorporated into the anti-Japanese army, its primary task was to fight against the Japanese invaders and defend the country. In addition, the anti-Japanese enthusiasm of the people in the Northwest continued to rise. Under the impetus of the situation, it was inevitable that the Ningxia army would join the anti-Japanese war in Suiyuan. The initial engagement came in the late summer and early autumn of 1939, as Japanese troops, driving cars, armored vehicles, and tanks, advanced from Baotou towards the defenses of the 81st Army in western Suiyuan, attempting to annihilate the main force of the 81st Army. Ma Dunjing (the third son of Ma Hongbin), Chief of Staff of the 81st Army, personally commanded the operation at the front line in Wuda Town. The Japanese advanced to the defensive positions of the 35th Division and bombarded Ma's position with heavy artillery fire. The 35th Division returned fire with 82mm mortars. Because Ma's mortars were old-fashioned, they emitted smoke upon firing, revealing their positions. The Japanese immediately unleashed over 200 shells on the 35th Division's artillery positions, silencing them and rendering them incapable of retaliating. Taking advantage of this, the Japanese, under the powerful cover of artillery and machine gun fire, swarmed in by car, tank, and armored vehicle. The 35th Division held their ground, waiting for the Japanese troops to enter effective firing range and disembark from their vehicles. Suddenly, soldiers of the 1st Battalion of the 206th Regiment jumped out of their fortifications and charged into the enemy lines, engaging the Japanese in hand-to-hand combat. The Japanese were thrown into disarray, some killed before they could even disembark. Those who did disembark suffered heavy casualties, with the remaining soldiers turning back to their vehicles and fleeing in panic. Forced to retreat after suffering a decisive blow, the 35th Division captured two Japanese vehicles, over a hundred artillery shells, dozens of boxes of ammunition, as well as firearms and officer's swords. This marked the first victory in the Suiyuan-Western Anti-Japanese War. This victory boosted morale and public spirit. When the captured vehicles entered Wuyuan County, the people cheered enthusiastically, plastering the vehicles with various celebratory slogans. An elderly local artist even composed a song to celebrate the victory and sang it on the street: "Our old Western Army (referring to Ma Hongbin's 81st Army) is really good at fighting. We drove away the Japanese soldiers, captured cars and brought them into Wuyuan City, where the whole city celebrated and welcomed them. Relying on our old Western Army, we defeated the Japanese soldiers, and the people have peace." The campaign's defining battle occurred at Wubulangkou in early 1940, following the Chinese raid on Baotou in December 1939. In the autumn of 1939, the situation in Shanxi stabilized, and Fu Zuoyi, the chairman of Suiyuan Province who had retreated to Shanxi, led his troops back to western Suiyuan, establishing the Deputy Commander's Headquarters of the Eighth War Zone to unify command of military and political affairs in western Suiyuan and actively preparing for a counter-offensive. To coordinate with the nationwide winter offensive, Fu Zuoyi decided to attack Baotou, a key Japanese stronghold, to contain the Japanese forces in North China. The Battle of Baotou was spearheaded by the newly formed 31st Division of Fu Zuoyi's 35th Army, with the 35th Division of Ma Hongbin's 81st Army providing support. Under meticulous planning, on December 20th, Sun Lanfeng's newly formed 31st Division of Fu Zuoyi's army stormed into Baotou. The Japanese army, caught off guard, panicked and suffered over a thousand casualties, scattering in all directions, losing all their supplies within the city. Fu Zuoyi then directed his troops to withdraw to the rear of western Suiyuan, luring the enemy deeper into the territory for a later battle. The Battle of Baotou greatly angered the Japanese army. Therefore, more than 30,000 Japanese troops were mobilized from Zhangjiakou, Taiyuan, Datong, and other places, along with more than 1,500 military vehicles, armored vehicles, tanks, dozens of aircraft, and six divisions of puppet Mongolian troops, totaling more than 40,000 men. Under the command of Division Commander Kuroda, they launched a major offensive into western Suiyuan in early 1940, attempting to seize western and southern Inner Mongolia in one fell swoop. Facing the superior Japanese forces, the people and soldiers of western Suiyuan adopted a scorched-earth policy and mobile warfare to maneuver against the enemy. The specific deployment was as follows: the 7th Cavalry Division of Men Bingyue's troops blocked the Japanese troops in the Xishanzui and Maqidukou areas, and then turned to the right bank of the Yellow River to threaten the enemy's left flank; the 35th Division of Ma Hongbin's troops and the 1st Cavalry Brigade of Ma Hongkui's troops constructed positions in the Wubulangkou and Wuzhen areas, blocked the enemy, and then moved into Langshan to threaten the Japanese right flank; the 35th Army of Fu Zuoyi's troops assembled northwest of Wuyuan to launch mobile attacks on the enemy; other units chose favorable terrain to harass the exhausted enemy at any time; and the logistics personnel were transferred to the Dengkou and Shizuishan areas. Before Langshan Mountain, where the Yang family generals once fought against the Jin dynasty, a thousand-mile-long battlefield against the Japanese was set up. Wubulangkou is located in the western part of the Yinshan Mountains. Nestled between the eastern and western ends of the rugged and precipitous Erlang Mountain and Chashitai Mountain, it forms a…

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3.198 Fall and Rise of China: Battle of South Guangxi Apr 20, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the first battle of Changsha. Japanese forces under General Okamura Yasuji, including the 6th, 13th, and 33rd Divisions, launched a multi-pronged offensive, crossing the Xin Qiang River and capturing Yingtian amid brutal fighting. Chinese defenses, commanded by Xue Yue in the Ninth War Zone, employed gradual resistance strategies, with units like the 195th Division under Qin Yizhi holding key positions such as Bijia Mountain and Fulinpu, inflicting heavy losses. Battalion Commander Luo Wenlang recaptured Dongtang in a midnight assault, grieving his fallen brother amid Mid-Autumn moonlight. Chiang Kai-shek, from Chongqing, oversaw operations while hosting a festive banquet, buoyed by international support like U.S. loans. By October, Japanese advances stalled; Okamura ordered a retreat on October 2, exposed by a downed plane yielding critical documents. Chinese forces pursued, reclaiming lines by October 8, annihilating over half the invaders per Chiang's commendation. #198 The Battle of South Guangxi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In January 1939, the Japanese General Headquarters, responding to naval needs, ordered the 21st Corps to seize Hainan Island. The goal was to establish a base for air operations against southwestern China and to enforce blockade measures. Supported by the Japanese Navy, the Corps deployed the Taiwan Brigade, which landed at Haikou on February 10. After initial defeats, Chinese peace preservation units withdrew to the island's interior and conducted harassment operations. Japanese troops soon occupied northern counties including Qiongshan, Wenchang, Ding'an, Qionghai, and Chengmai, followed by the port of Yulin, which positioned them for southward advances toward Guangxi. This invasion was part of a broader strategy to disrupt Chinese supply lines and secure a foothold in southern China. Although Chinese resistance on Hainan ultimately failed to repel the invaders, it highlighted the resilience that would define regional fighting. After the costly Battle of Wuhan, the Sino-Japanese War reached a stalemate in central China, despite ongoing large-scale conflicts and Japanese strategic bombings that caused heavy casualties without breaking the deadlock. Politically, Japan's alignment with the Axis powers and the start of World War II in Western Europe led European nations to bolster ties with China. With major coastal ports under Japanese control, the Nationalist government's main overseas supply route became the Haiphong-Kunming railway in French Indochina, which transported four times more war materials in 1938 than in 1937, including heavy equipment purchased abroad. The Hainan occupation negatively impacted Japan's war efforts, though diplomatic pressure on Britain and France proved ineffective. Meanwhile, the Imperial Japanese Navy proposed a southward advance: invading from Nanning to Longzhou County in Guangxi by sea to establish an airfield for strategic bombing. An April 15, 1939, Navy Department assessment deemed large-scale inland army operations challenging, recommending instead that the army and navy collaborate to occupy Shantou—the largest trading port on the South China coast—before pushing into Guangxi to seize Nanning and sever China's vital Indochina supply line. In June, the Japanese General Staff's "Military Geography" emphasized that occupying Nanning would provide convenient transportation in all directions, reaching Guangdong, Hunan, Guizhou, and Yunnan. The Nanning-Lang Son road had become a major artery for Chiang Kai-shek's regime to connect with the southwest. To cut it off directly, Nanning must be captured first. Once occupied, heavy troops near Tokyo Bay would not be needed to achieve the operation's purpose. This idea gained considerable support both politically and tactically. The Army's northward policy had been defeated by the Soviet Union in the Battle of Khalkhin Gol in September 1939. Major General Tominaga Kyoji, the newly appointed head of the First Department of the General Staff, sought to avoid further embarrassments. Supporting the proposal involved transferring the 5th Division of the Kwantung Army, originally intended for Khalkhin Gol, to the south. This prevented front-line units from misjudging higher-ups' positions and allowed implementation without affecting existing troops. In September, the European war broke out. The Japanese General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army to capture the vicinity of Nanning, cut off the international passage between Guangxi and Vietnam, and obtain a base for air operations in southwest China. Japan aimed to completely sever China's most important supply route. According to Japanese intelligence, the French Indochina line accounted for 85% of China's foreign aid in late 1939, with 12,500 tons transported in September alone. On September 1, 1939, Germany attacked Poland; on September 3, Britain and France declared war on Germany, igniting World War II. Japan, eager to resolve the China issue and free up troops to seize Western colonies in Asia and the Pacific, stated through Prime Minister Nobuyuki Abe on September 4: "At the outbreak of the European war, the Empire will not intervene and has decided to focus on resolving the China Incident." In Nanjing, the China Expeditionary Army Headquarters was established, with General Nishio Hisazo as Commander-in-Chief and Lieutenant General Itagaki Seishiro as Chief of Staff, overseeing the North China Area Army, the 11th Army, the 13th Army, and the 21st Army. On September 23, the Japanese General Headquarters issued an order to prepare for a swift response to the China Incident. On October 16, "Continental Order No. 375" directed the Commander-in-Chief of the China Expeditionary Army to swiftly cut off enemy supply routes from Nanning to Longzhou with a portion of the navy. Also on October 16, "Continental Order No. 582," a central Army-Navy agreement, aimed to cut off enemy routes along the Nanning-Longzhou line and strengthen naval air operations against the Yunnan-Vietnam Railway and the Burma Road. The operation was scheduled for mid-November. On October 19, Nishio Juzo issued orders for the Guangxi operation, involving the 5th Division, Taiwan Mixed Brigade, supporting units, the 5th Fleet (renamed the 2nd Expeditionary Fleet in mid-November), and the 3rd Combined Naval Air Group. Total strength: about 30,000 men, over 70 warships, 2 aircraft carriers, and about 100 aircraft. Tominaga Kyoji announced: "This is the last battle of the China Incident." Politically, the Guangxi Army was a key pillar of the National Government after retreating to Sichuan. Attacking Guangxi could impact the Guangxi clique's stance on continuing the war. Cutting off the Nanning-Longzhou line would affect Vietnam-China transportation security and allow actions against French Indochina amid Europe's distractions. With tactical and political alignment, the plan was approved. In September 1939, the Chinese repelled the Japanese attack on Changsha. In October, the National Government held the Second Nanyue Military Conference in Hengshan, summarizing the First Changsha Campaign and deciding on a new offensive. On October 29, Chiang Kai-shek announced: "Our future strategic application and the mentality of officers and soldiers must be completely transformed. We must start to turn defense into offense, turn stillness into movement, and actively take offensive measures." On November 5, after the meeting, intelligence indicated Japan's intention to invade the south. U.S. and British agencies reported the Japanese fleet gathering in Tokyo Bay, signaling an imminent operation against Nanning. Chiang flew from Hengshan to Guilin to arrange defenses. At this time, coastal defense was guarded by the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei (transferred, with Cai Tingkai taking over), a Guangxi clique force comprising the 46th and 31st Armies. Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters, was in Chongqing for the Sixth Plenary Session of the Fifth National Congress of the Kuomintang, while Chief of Staff Lin Wei was in Rong County mourning Xia Wei's mother. The headquarters was essentially deserted. Zhang Fakui, commander of the Fourth War Zone, and Chief of Staff Wu Shiyuan were in Shaoguan, Guangdong. The three-tiered command structure—headquarters, war zone, army group—was practically non-existent. The Chinese forces north of the pass were commanded by Bai Chongxi's Guilin Headquarters, with Lin Wei as Chief of Staff; they included the Fourth War Zone under Zhang Fakui and the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei. They commanded: the 31st Army (Commander Wei Yunsong; 131st Division under He Weizhen; 135th Division under Su Zuxin; 188th Division under Wei Zhen); the 46th Army (Commander He Xuan; 170th Division under Li Xingshu; 175th Division under Feng Huang; New 19th Division under Huang Gu); and a portion of the 200th Division of the 5th Army (Commander Dai Anlan). Together with the 1st-4th Independent Infantry Regiments of the Guangxi Training Corps, total strength was approximately 60,000 men. After the Japanese landing, Bai Chongxi was stationed in Qianjiang, while the 16th Army Group headquarters in Xiawei was at Heishiyan near Binyang. In early November 1939, the Japanese 5th Fleet and the aircraft carrier Kaga escorted the 5th Division and the Taiwan Brigade to concentrate in Haikou. Japanese aircraft bombed important cities in Guangxi. At that time, the Chinese army defended the coast from Nanning to Qinzhou Bay and Fangcheng with part of the 16th Army Group of the Fourth War Zone. The 46th Army was responsible for the coastline of Fangcheng, Qinxian, Hepu, and Liankou, and the 31st Army for key points along the Xijiang River. On November 9, Japanese troops assembled at Sanya Bay on Hainan Island. Lieutenant General Ando Rikichi, commander of the 21st Army, personally commanded from Sanya. On the 13th, the fleet set sail. On the 14th, vanguard ships feinted at Beihai with over ten ships. A battalion of the 175th Division retaliated and was ordered to destroy Beihai, but Commander Chao Wei of the 524th Regiment believed no landing was intended, avoiding complete destruction. That night, Japanese ships turned toward Qinzhou. To safeguard the international communications link between Guangxi and Indochina, the Chinese Generalissimo's Headquarters in Guilin assigned defensive missions. The 46th Corps of the 16th Army Group was tasked with defending the coastline from Fangcheng to Qinzhou, Hepu, and Lianjiang. The 31st Corps was responsible for key positions along the Xi River. Defensive positions were prepared in advance, and communications infrastructure was sabotaged to facilitate gradual resistance, aiming to attrition Japanese forces before a decisive engagement along the Yong River. On November 15, under air and naval fire support, the Japanese 5th Division and Taiwan Brigade executed a forced landing on the west coast of Qinzhou Bay. Following intense resistance, the Chinese New 19th Division withdrew to Pancheng and Shangsi. After capturing Qinzhou, the Japanese 5th Division advanced north along the Yong-Qin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade moved along Xiaodong–Baiji–Bujin Road. On November 17, the Japanese army captured Qinzhou and Fangcheng. The 5th Division immediately split into three routes along the Yongqin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade advanced north along Xiaodong-Baekje-Pujin. On the 18th, they attacked Xiaodong, the headquarters of the New 19th Division. Division Commander Huang Gu fled alone in the face of battle. His troops were routed, and the Japanese continued northward. Meanwhile, bandits from the Shiwan Mountains formed numerous plainclothes teams to lead the Japanese advance, accelerating their northward movement. By November 21, they approached the south bank of the Yu River. On December 1, they occupied Gaofeng Pass. On December 4, they occupied Kunlun Pass and then adopted a defensive posture. On November 16, Chiang Kai-shek summoned Bai Chongxi in Chongqing, ordering him to return to Guilin immediately to command the battle, without attending the plenary session. Bai requested full command without intervention from Zhang Fakui, and that all armies obey the Headquarters directly. Chiang approved and transferred his elite Fifth Army and other units to Bai's command. Bai telegraphed Du Yuming to lead troops by train from Hengyang to southern Guilin and reinstated Xia Wei as commander of the 16th Army Group, with Cai Tingkai awaiting orders. The 16th Army Group assembled, and Deputy Commander-in-Chief Wei Yunsong arrived in Nanning on the 19th. Units rushed to block Japanese advances. Bai flew to Guilin on the 19th and Qianjiang on the 21st, establishing the command post. Thus, as Japanese arrived in Nanning, Chinese reinforcements like the 170th Division reached Yongning on the 22nd, two regiments of the 135th Division entered Nanning on the 23rd, and the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division arrived at Ertang on the afternoon of the 24th. Other armies assembled in Liuzhou and Binyang. On November 21, Japanese troops approached the south bank of the Yu River. Wu Zongjun, commander of the 405th Regiment of the 135th Division, arbitrarily ordered his regiments to abandon positions and retreat. Wei Yunsong ordered Su Zuxin to intercept, but Wu disobeyed. No troops defended Nanning's front lines. At dawn on the 24th, the 170th Division fought fiercely in Yongning. In the morning, the Japanese 21st Regiment crossed the river. By afternoon, Nanning had fallen. Over the next two days, they swept surrounding positions. On the morning of the 25th, the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division fought alone against Japanese regiments at Ertang. Under air cover, Japanese attacked, but Chinese resisted stubbornly. Regiment Commander Shao Yizhi and Adjutant Wu Qisheng were killed. Given the situation, Division Commanders Li Xingshu and Dai Anlan retreated to Gaofeng Pass after dusk. Though they failed to stop the advance, this was the fiercest resistance since the landing, lasting two days and nights. On November 25, Japanese attacked the 175th Division near Luwu from Xiaodong and the highway. The division moved to Nalong, assembling in villages there. The 175th attacked key points along the Yongqin Highway, including Datang, Naxiao, Dongya, Nabian, Xincheng, Xiaodong, Dadong, and Bancheng. On November 20, the 21st Army opened its headquarters in Qinzhou. On November 26, Ando Rikichi announced the formation of the Yongqin Corps under Imamura Hitoshi. Ando left for Guangzhou on the 27th. Starting on the 26th, Japanese attacked Gaofeng Pass with aircraft cover. Despite fierce resistance, Chinese lost Gaofeng Pass on December 1. On the 4th, Japanese occupied Kunlun Pass, then adjusted deployment. The two sides confronted each other along the Kunlun Pass mountainous boundary. According to statistics up to December 1, Japanese suffered 145 dead and 315 wounded; Chinese had 6,125 dead bodies and 664 prisoners (but Japanese casualties were underreported; the 41st…

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3.197 Fall and Rise of China: First Battle of Changsha Apr 13, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the beginning of the first battle of Changsha. From Chongqing, Chiang debated defensive strategies for Hunan, ultimately adopting Plan B after Xue Yue's pleas, focusing on successive resistance north of Changsha to thwart Japanese advances. Japanese forces, under Okamura Yasuji, launched assaults in Jiangxi and Hunan. In Jiangxi, the 106th and 101st Divisions attacked Huibu and Gao'an, where Chinese troops under Luo Zhuoying and Song Kentang fiercely resisted. Gao'an fell briefly but was recaptured by the 32nd Army and the elite 74th Army, with heavy casualties on both sides, as recounted by soldier Liu Qihuai. In Hunan, Japanese units crossed the Xin Qiang River and landed at Yingtian, facing brutal opposition. At Bijia Mountain, Qin Yizhi's 195th Division held for four days; Battalion Commander Shi Enhua's reinforced unit perished entirely, their fragmented remains mourned by locals. Along the Miluo River, Chen Pei's 37th Army fortified positions, repelling waves of Japanese attacks, including suicide squads disguised as civilians. Recruit Yang Peyao's unit endured bombardments, inflicting significant enemy losses before withdrawing at dusk. #197 The First Battle of Changsha Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Major Luo Wenlang, battalion commander of the 3rd Battalion, 55th Regiment, 19th Division of the 28th Army, harbored a peculiar quirk: he couldn't sleep soundly without unwrapping his leg bindings, a small ritual that anchored him in the chaos of war. Since the war's eruption, such luxuries were rare, and unwrapping his bindings every night became an impossibility, leaving him to endure restless slumbers. Tonight, however, sleep eluded him entirely; he tossed and turned on his makeshift bed, his mind a whirlwind of unrest. Two days after the northern Hunan battle ignited like a powder keg, the 55th Regiment received urgent orders from Division Commander Tang Boyin to race to Wukou in Pingjiang County. Their path wound through Luo Wenlang's hometown of Fulinpu, a twist of fate that stirred conflicting emotions. Entering the village under the cover of night, the entire battalion encamped in the commander's modest family village, with battalion headquarters naturally established in his ancestral home. Luo yearned to step across that familiar threshold but dreaded it, for his parents remained oblivious to a devastating truth. They slaughtered chickens and prepared meat, hosting the battalion staff with drinks and hospitality, after all, this was their son's unit gracing their home. Luo orchestrated door planks and straw for bedding, posted sentries, and deftly evaded his parents until they retired. Before dawn broke, he mustered the troops, ensured they were fed, and led them onward, slipping away like a shadow. By noon on the 22nd, they reached Wukou, only to receive fresh directives: rush to Yingtian to bolster the 95th Division against the enemy's audacious landings. The 3rd Battalion spearheaded the division's reinforcements, marching relentlessly through day and night, arriving at Dongtang, over 30 kilometers southeast of Yingtian—on the 23rd, hearts sinking upon learning Yingtian had already fallen into enemy clutches. Luo Wenlang sought out the retreating 95th Division Commander Luo Qi to beg for a mission, his resolve unyielding. Luo Qi, anticipating his arrival, relayed Commander Guan Linzheng's ironclad instructions: The 19th Division's reinforcements would assume Dongtang's defenses. With the main force still en route, Luo Qi tasked Luo's battalion with relieving a segment held by a replacement regiment. He handed over a map, sketching a line with a pencil, a simple stroke that thrust Luo Wenlang and his men onto the front lines of fate. An operations staff was dispatched to guide them to the position and oversee the handover. As the troops advanced, they encountered scattered soldiers fleeing like startled rabbits; seizing a platoon leader revealed they were indeed from the replacement regiment. Mere minutes from division HQ, the enemy was already closing in, a predator's breath hot on their necks. Luo Wenlang and Deputy Battalion Commander Wu Yacui split the battalion, launching a counterattack on Dongtang from dual routes. Fortune favored them; the Japanese held only an exhausted company, crumbling under a single, ferocious charge. They swiftly deployed two companies to the positions, reserving one as a bulwark. By dusk, the full 55th Regiment arrived, accompanied by the rest of the 19th Division's reinforcements, allowing the battered 95th Division, ravaged at Yingtian, to withdraw for desperate reorganization. The regimental commander positioned Luo's 3rd Battalion on the regiment's vulnerable left wing. In the blink of an eye, it was the 27th, aligning with the 15th of the eighth lunar month. Amid the relentless great battle, few noted the calendar, and the skies hung heavy with clouds. Luo Wenlang twisted on his straw bed, his thoughts a snarled knot of anxiety and memory. At 11 p.m., gunfire shattered the night; a barrage of machine gun bullets riddled the battalion HQ house, raining thatch and dust upon Luo like fallout from a storm. Catastrophe had struck! Luo surged toward the positions with the bugler—his battalion signal chief—and the reserve force, ascending the hilltop in a frenzy. Halfway up, he spotted 8th Company's Lieutenant Platoon Leader Rong Fayu leading over 20 soldiers in retreat. Bellowing "Why unauthorized retreat?" while brandishing his pistol, he compelled Rong to rally and turn back. The Japanese had launched a nocturnal assault; 8th Company Commander Yi Zuitao lay slain by a fatal shot, over a dozen comrades felled in brutal close combat, the survivors scattered like leaves in the wind; the high ground now belonged to the enemy. Upon learning of Dongtang's loss, the regimental commander personally led the regimental reserve, his face etched with urgency. Under flickering lantern light, poring over the map with Luo, Division Commander Tang Boyin telephoned, his voice a whipcrack of command: Recapture it before dawn, or both would face the merciless hand of military justice. After seizing the high ground, the enemy hesitated to press further; Luo surmised the darkness concealed paths, and their numbers were not overwhelming. Forgoing the regimental reserve, he led 7th Company's 4 squads and remnants of the routed 8th Company in a stealthy ascent. Near the position, a ravine concealed over 20 8th Company soldiers, rallied by Sergeant Squad Leader Tan Tianrong, who had lurked in wait for reinforcements, dreading exposure at dawn under the enemy's gaze. Spotting the battalion commander personally spearheading the counterattack, Tan Tianrong's face lit with fierce joy; his men, armed with grenades, surged as the vanguard. Intimate with the terrain even in blindness, they hurled explosives into bunkers, trenches, and works. The commander orchestrated the charge; the Japanese force of 40-50 men crumbled, over half slain or maimed, the remnants fleeing northward to their village stronghold. It was past 4 a.m.; the moon pierced the clouds, bathing the earth in a silvery glow. With positions reclaimed, the night revealed its secret: tonight was Mid-Autumn. Moonlight unraveled the tangled threads of his past; Luo draped his clothes over his shoulders, sat beneath the luminous orb, and wept in solitary anguish. Before the war, devastating news had arrived: his brother Luo Yinong had been killed in Jiangxi. Luo had three brothers; the eldest shouldered half the family's burdens, their bond unbreakable. The brother had enlisted first in the 50th Army, climbing to battalion commander through sheer valor. He and his younger brother had followed suit, inspired by that call to arms. Wartime conscription demanded only one per family, but battling the devils was a duty for the nation and its people. His brother had risen to deputy regimental commander before his end. The 50th Army notified him first. Engulfed in battle, there had been no time to console his grieving parents or tend to the funeral; it weighed on his heart like an unyielding stone. His sister-in-law, diligent and unassuming, cared for a young boy and carried another child; the long, arduous days ahead loomed like an endless shadow. The night dew brought a biting chill, the moon an icy sentinel; Luo shivered uncontrollably, his tears mingling with the frost. The sky hung heavy with overcast gloom, yet the moon lurked beyond the clouds, casting a faint, ethereal light that warded off utter darkness. Along the road, a unit's elongated black shadow snaked southward in hurried silence, a serpent of weary resolve pressing through the night. Qin Yizhi reined in his horse, pausing to gaze back: the queue stretched onward, silent and impeccably orderly, belying the exhaustion of a force scarred by days of ferocious combat, their spirits unbroken amid the shadows. After the Japanese seized the 195th Division's defiant outpost at Bijia Mountain, they surged across the Xin Qiang River in a merciless onslaught. The river, shallow enough to wade knee-deep, offered no true impediment; the real barrier was forged from the defenders' scorching blood, a crimson testament to their unyielding stand. The 195th Division clashed in a maelstrom of cruelty; positions were heaped with corpses time and again, the Xin Qiang's waters churning blood-red in relentless cycles of carnage. From the night of the 23rd to the dawn of the 25th, respite was a forgotten dream; Okamura Yasuji, in a gesture of grim respect, inscribed Qin's name in elegant calligraphy and hung it within his command tent, a haunting trophy of the foe's tenacity. Following their triumphant landing at Yingtian, the Japanese entangled the Ninth War Zone's left-wing defenders in a protracted snare, their advances grinding slowly like a predator toying with prey, menacing the flanks of the frontal troops with insidious intent. On the evening of the 27th, Xue Yue issued the fateful order for the 15th Army Group to withdraw to the precarious ground between the Miluo River and Shangshan City, ushering this blood-soaked force into an all-night march toward the next defensive crucible. Late into the night, a brief halt was called. Soldiers slumped to the ground, adjusting leg wraps and gear with mechanical precision; logistics teams darted through the ranks, distributing rations like lifelines; cooks, having forged ahead, arrived with steaming pots of rice soup, infusing the air with a rare warmth. Though no clamor broke the hush, a quiet camaraderie enveloped the queue, a fleeting balm against the war's chill. The division staff claimed a flat expanse beside a farmhouse yard for their respite. Qin settled onto a stone roller used for grinding grain, nibbling at his meager ration and sipping the hot soup that steamed in the cool air. Suddenly, moonlight pierced the clouds, cascading down in silvery streams; the familiar contours of the farmhouse stirred a flood of warmth in his heart, evoking memories of home. Chongqing, Huangshan Villa. Every window was shrouded in double layers of thick curtains, sealing out any sliver of betraying light, as if the very walls conspired to guard secrets from the encroaching night. Tonight's ethereal protagonist rose languidly from the eastern valley, its orange-red moonlight casting an aura of drowsy reluctance, as though it had not fully shaken off the slumber of the day. The feeble glow dappled the building's roof, balcony, and the surrounding hillsides, intersections, and thickets, where armed shadows lurked, capturing every rustle in the oppressive silence. Only upon close inspection could one discern the faint specks of moonlight glinting off steel helmets. Yet, beyond those fortified walls, another realm pulsed with life, a vibrant contrast to the shadowed vigilance outside. The front hall, living room, and dining room blazed with brilliant light. Vibrant flowers, dominated by chrysanthemums in full, defiant bloom, infused the air with color and fragrance; a phonograph murmured a cheerful Guangdong melody, weaving an atmosphere thick with festive joy, a deliberate illusion amid the storm of war. Chiang Kai-shek, clad in a flowing black silk gown, strode ahead with poised grace, escorting his guests into the dining room alongside the elegantly attired Soong May-ling, their conversation laced with laughter and warmth. At the table, Soong May-ling's smile was a beacon of diplomacy, as she artfully arranged the seating to suit hierarchies and alliances, while servers in crisp white uniforms moved with nimble precision. This was Chiang Kai-shek's intimate Mid-Autumn family banquet; beyond a handful of pivotal military and political figures, the gathering brimmed with relatives. Guests and kin alike noted Chiang's buoyant spirits tonight; his smiles were wide and genuine, his discourse light and expansive, delving into casual topics with uncharacteristic ease. In September 1939, China's War of Resistance Against Japan had entered its grueling third year. After the initial cataclysm of turmoil and disarray, the government and military had clawed their way to stability, adapting to this unprecedented historical crucible, with operations finally aligning into a semblance of order. According to figures proclaimed by Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin to Chinese and foreign reporters on the 13th of this month, Japanese invaders had seized 521 counties across 12 provinces, a vast swath of conquest. Yet, the Japanese imperialists had exacted this toll at a staggering cost. Just prior, on August 30, the Hirannuma Cabinet, installed a mere eight months earlier, had collapsed in mass resignation. Hirannuma Kiichiro's predecessor, Konoe Fumimaro, had similarly bowed out amid governmental failures, chiefly the unmet ambitions in the Sino-Japanese War that he had boldly promised to parliament, exacerbating domestic political and economic woes. Days ago, when Wang Pengsheng briefed Chiang on Japan's turbulent politics, he quipped: "Konoe said three months to destroy China; three months didn't work, nor three years, who knows about 30 or 300. Hirannuma had no solutions, down in eight months. Does Abe have good ideas? How long can he be prime minister?" Indeed, Abe Nobuyuki, Hirannuma's successor, would endure a mere four and a half months before resigning in ignominy. Tonight's feast showcased Chiang's favored cuisines: delicate Jiangsu-Zhejiang dishes mingled with robust Sichuan flavors. Chiang abstained from alcohol, raising his cup in mere symbolic toasts to his guests. During the meal, as if by unspoken accord, no one broached the raging domestic battles or the volatile international landscape; conversations meandered through trivialities, skirting anything heavy or discordant, a fragile bubble of normalcy. On September 3, Britain and France had declared war on Germany, shattering the global order in a seismic shift. Foreign newspapers already…

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3.196 Fall and Rise of China: Road to Changsha: Rivers of Carnage at Miluo and Bijia Apr 06, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the Xiang-Gan Operation. In 1939, during the Second Sino-Japanese War's stalemate phase, Chiang Kai-shek received intelligence from Wang Pengsheng about Japan's "Xiang-Gan Operation," a plan to pressure Chongqing by advancing on Hunan and supporting Wang Jingwei's puppet regime in Nanjing. Chiang, based in Chongqing's Huangshan Villa, coordinated defenses in the Ninth War Zone. Deputy Chief Bai Chongxi proposed Plan A, luring Japanese forces deep to Hengyang for annihilation, minimizing movements and exploiting supply vulnerabilities. Chen Cheng and acting commander Xue Yue favored Plan B, emphasizing successive resistance north of Changsha to prevent its fall and counter propaganda.Initially approving Plan A, Chiang switched to Plan B after Xue's insistent telegrams highlighted risks like pincer attacks from Guangzhou and political fallout. Xue, haunted by past failures like Lanfeng and Nanchang, sought redemption. Troops under generals like Guan Linzheng fortified positions along the Xin Qiang and Miluo Rivers, with slogans invoking Taierzhuang's prestige. #196 The Road to Changsha: Rivers of Carnage at Miluo and Bijia Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. At 7 a.m. on September 14, over 2,000 troops from Nakai Ryotaro's 106th Division launched a fierce attack on the positions of Wan Baobang's 184th Division in Huibu. When this telegram crackled into the command centers of Chongqing, Guilin, and Changsha simultaneously, a hush fell over those who read it, each uttering the same grave words: "It has begun." Huibu, a forgotten speck in Jiangxi Province, clung precariously close to the Hunan border. It was here, in this unassuming town, that the curtain rose on a brutal symphony of war, the opening act of a larger tragedy. The Japanese 106th and 101st Divisions, fresh from their iron grip on Nanchang, clashed once more with the beleaguered units under General Luo Zhuoying, the front-line commander whose failed bid to reclaim Nanchang still burned like an open wound after five agonizing months of tense standoff, where every shadow hid a potential ambush. This was the calculated first thrust of Okamura Yasuji's insidious "Xiang-Gan Operation" plan: unleash an assault in Jiangxi to draw and pin down Chinese forces, forging the anvil for the hammer blow soon to fall in northern Hunan. The Japanese horde splintered into two relentless routes, surging toward Gao'an and Xiu Shui like twin serpents through the mist-shrouded hills and tangled jungles. Against them stood the Chinese 1st and 19th Army Groups, arrayed in ironclad formation, igniting a ferocious battle that echoed through the valleys with the thunder of gunfire and the cries of the fallen. When Luo Zhuoying received the urgent telephone report from the front lines, not even a flicker of the expected tension crossed his steely facade. The map of the battlefield was etched into his mind, vivid as a fresh scar, with no need to consult paper when strategy pulsed in his veins. His voice remained calm, almost detached, as he issued orders that carried the weight of life and death. The confidential staff scribbling down the commands couldn't help but notice the eerie mismatch between General Luo's serene tone and the savage directives spilling forth. "Order all units to strictly hold their positions, use their own reserves to reinforce critical areas, do not expect the general reserve, retake lost positions on their own. Anyone whose defense zone is breached by the enemy, affecting the overall operation, will be executed without mercy!" After dictating this decree of unyielding resolve, he summoned Deputy Chief of Staff Yang Xiuqi with a pointed command: "Don't handle anything else; just keep an eye on Gao'an for me." As the focus shifted to this critical stronghold, Gao'an stood as the town nearest Nanchang still clutched in Chinese hands, a stubborn thorn in the Japanese side, one they were hell-bent on yanking out with overwhelming fury. On September 15, 1939, the invaders shattered several forward positions of Song Kentang's 32nd Army encircling Gao'an, advancing like a tidal wave from east, west, and north. The soldiers of Li Zhaoying's 139th Division and Tang Yongliang's 141st Division clung desperately to their increasingly pulverized fortifications, enduring a hellstorm of Japanese aircraft and artillery that rained death from the skies. Wave after wave of wounded and martyred heroes were hauled from the lines, their blood staining the earth, while swathes of Japanese troops crumpled at the front in heaps of defeat. Army Commander Song Kentang, his brows furrowed in grim calculation, pondered pulling his forces back from Gao'an to blunt the enemy's razor-sharp advance. But as night cloaked the battlefield, Yang Xiuqi arrived under direct orders to oversee the fray, bearing Luo Zhuoying's unshakeable edict: Hold Gao'an firmly; no withdrawal allowed. The onslaught intensified the next day, September 16, as the Japanese unleashed a frenzy of continuous assaults, their bombs reducing front-line positions to smoking craters. By dusk, each unit had bled over half its strength, yet they held amid the rubble, defiant ghosts in a landscape of ruin. That night, Song Kentang and Yang Xiuqi faced each other with expressions etched in worry, shadows dancing across their faces in the dim light. Song implored Yang to relay to Commander Luo that without reinforcements to hammer the enemy's flanks, clinging on until tomorrow's eve would be impossible—he urged a tactical withdrawal. Yang dispatched the dire situation and Song's plea via overnight telegram to Luo Zhuoying, but by noon on the 17th, silence reigned, no reply pierced the growing dread. Yang Xiuqi recalled that on the afternoon of the 17th, a relentless drizzle fell like tears from the heavens. He accompanied a reception team to a crossroads, witnessing a heartbreaking procession from the front to a makeshift hospital south of Gao'an city. Severely wounded streamed in on stretchers, the lightly injured limped on their own, porters whispered of abandoned guns littering the positions, and military police reported a surge of deserters. In the cold calculus of combat statistics, there lurked a "missing" category—most were those who had fled the carnage. On the 18th, combat erupted at dawn's first light. Japanese planes obliterated Gao'an city into a flattened wasteland, their infantry charging with unprecedented savagery. At noon, Song Kentang issued the fateful order: withdraw from the city and seize the hillsides to the south. Gao'an thus slipped into enemy clutches, a bitter loss that echoed like a death knell. That evening, Operations Section Chief Ji informed Yang Xiuqi of urgent directives from Guilin Office Director Bai Chongxi and War Zone Commander Xue Yue: the 32nd Army must orchestrate an immediate counterattack on Gao'an, with the "ace army" en route. The "ace army" was none other than Wang Yaowu's 74th Army, the Ninth War Zone's prized general reserve. Yang's orderly, fetching water past Song Kentang's quarters, overheard the commander's resigned growl: "If they say fight, then fight; at worst, we'll lose all our men." That night, Army Commander Song Kentang descended to Tang Yongliang's 139th Division to personally oversee the assault, striking from south to north. The 141st Division, bolstered by Li Tianxia's 51st Division and Shi Zhongcheng's 57th Division of the 74th Army, flanked like wolves from both sides, weaving an encirclement around the Japanese in and around Gao'an city. "The 51st Division's code name was 'Vanguard.' This was truly a formidable unit; that night, with a fierce charge, they recaptured Cunqian Street, then built fortifications and stabilized the position," Yang Xiuqi said. Liu Qihuai, an elderly man who was a squad leader in the 4th Company of the 3rd Regiment of the 51st Division during the Gao'an battle, where his thigh was pierced, recalled: "At that time, I was young and remembered one phrase passed down by veterans: The fearful die first, the fearless die later. In the first few battles, I gritted my teeth and charged head-on. Later, I grew bolder, became flexible in battle, calm-headed, quick-eyed and -handed. Once, right after a skirmish, the company commander punched me in the chest and said, 'Good kid, you know how to fight!' and made me squad leader. On the battlefield, bullets don't care if you're afraid or not; those unafraid of sacrifice, brave and tenacious, often seize the initiative for our army but also bear the brunt, suffering the heaviest casualties. On the third day of fighting Gao'an, the wound ticket said Republic Year 28 (1939) September 21. That day, we charged into the city for street fighting with the little devils, all mixed up. I was closely following the deputy company commander, but lost him; no one could find anyone, it was all about who had the quickest eyes. Watching front, left, right, rooftops, and fearing the ones lying on the ground were feigning death to get up and shoot—wished I had more eyes. I killed a devil poking out from a broken wall, thought that wall section could be a cover for observation and shooting, so I rushed toward it. As I got closer to that dead devil, suddenly my thigh felt stabbed; I ran a few more steps before realizing I was hit, and seeing blood, I couldn't stand. The bullet came at an angle; later I thought it might have been friendly fire, since I was charging ahead and there were no devils on the sides. But I didn't dare say that then; admitting it wouldn't count as a combat wound. I was carried by stretcher bearers to the aid station in a Gu clan's ancestral hall. Next to my stretcher was a Henan soldier from the 32nd Army with a through-and-through calf wound; he was quite cheerful, friendly right away. He said our 74th Army could fight because our helmets were special, all bought from the old Russians (Soviets), bulletproof, bullets would spin on the head. I said great, next battle let's swap. Being wounded, I feared disability most; death wasn't scary—die early, reincarnate early. Lying on the stretcher, still joking; we were truly young then. Later, I met a platoon leader surnamed Dang from my company who was wounded around the same time; he said that Henan soldier was transferred to a rear hospital, got gangrene, had his leg amputated, and died a few days later..." According to war history records: At dawn on September 22, with the cooperation of the 74th Army, the 32nd Army's "139th and 141st Divisions fiercely attacked Gao'an city. Since the city walls had been destroyed by the unit before withdrawing, the Japanese could not hold firm and began retreating." By 8 a.m., the entire city was recaptured, "pursuing north in victory. A portion of the 141st Division advanced to Huangpo Bridge." The next day, they recaptured Xiangfuguan, Sigong Mountain, and other places northeast of Gao'an, "restoring the pre-war positions." September 18 was a date the Japanese favored for their grim expeditions, a cursed numeral etched into the annals of invasion and strife. At dawn's first whisper, the Japanese 6th and 33rd Divisions, the Nara Detachment, Uemura Detachment, and their attached artillery, armored, engineer, aviation, and naval units gathered in their respective starting zones, adhering to the precise timings decreed by Okamura Yasuji. They held silent prayer ceremonies, an eerie ritual amid the gathering storm. Over 50,000 Japanese officers and soldiers turned their faces eastward, their hands momentarily abandoning weapons to clasp before their chests, peering through the dense, rain-laden clouds blanketing China toward an imagined sun ascending from a blood-red sea. As the silent prayers dissolved into the mist, hands seized weapons once more. General Okamura Yasuji, prowling the lines of the 6th Division to inspect and ignite the assault, drew his command sword with a savage flourish and barked a short, guttural command in the tongue of his island nation to his fervent compatriots. In response, tens of thousands of military boots thundered in unison upon this foreign soil, so distant from the homeland that flickered in their devotional visions. The offensive in northern Hunan had erupted, a cataclysm of steel and fury. On Okamura Yasuji's military map, three bold red arrows aligned menacingly along the Xin Qiang River, like lethal shafts poised to pierce the south bank. The scattered Chinese forward positions on a handful of high points north of the river appeared as mere pebbles before an inexorable tidal wave. Among these fragile defenses, the one thrust farthest into the jaws of peril was the Bijia Mountain position, held by Qin Yizhi's 195th Division under Zhang Yaoming's 52nd Army—a protruding bastion shaped like an oval with twin camel-like peaks. On Okamura's map, this defiant outpost bore no unit designation or commander's name, perhaps dismissed as inconsequential in the shadow of the massive onslaught. Qin Yizhi recalled: "The enemy broke through the left-wing Songjiawan position on the north bank on the 19th. From dawn on the 20th, they attacked Shi Enhua's battalion at Bijia Mountain from the north and west. Besides artillery, they used planes for repeated bombings. This battalion was the most forward in our division; my attention was always here. The 195th Division was newly added to the 52nd Army after Yueyang's fall in late 1938, based on Henan security forces with poor military quality. I was transferred from army chief of staff to division commander and immediately focused on rigorous military training. First train company commanders, then platoon leaders, finally squad leaders. Marksmanship, bayoneting, grenade throwing—everyone passes; fail and get demoted. This is fighting the devils; personal death is minor, but who takes responsibility for failing the mission? Shi Enhua was my old subordinate from the 25th Division, Huangpu 8th Class graduate as platoon leader. He was upright, brave in combat; I promoted him to company and battalion commander. Shi Enhua had an older brother, Shi Enrong, Huangpu 7th Class, also in my unit, killed at Taierzhuang. Army Commander Zhang Yaoming said holding Bijia Mountain for 3 days completes the task; strive for more to blunt the enemy's edge, consume them heavily before they cross the river, making later battles easier. I barely slept those days. Shi Enhua led a reinforced battalion, over 500 men; this time it was truly bitter. By the second day, fortifications were basically blasted away; by the third day, September 22, the battalion had over half casualties. At dusk, visibility good, I went to a high ground by the river and looked across with binoculars. Shells flipped up patches of yellow earth on the mountain; fortif…

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3.195 Fall and Rise of China: Xiang-Gan Operation Mar 30, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the Wang Jingwei Regime. During the Second Sino-Japanese War, tensions between Chiang Kai-shek and Wang Jingwei escalated amid Japan's aggressive invasion. Disillusioned by Chiang's scorched-earth tactics, such as the Yellow River flood and Changsha fire, Wang defected from Chongqing in December 1938, fleeing to Hanoi to negotiate peace with Japan. An assassination attempt, likely ordered by Chiang, killed Wang's secretary Zeng Zhongming, deepening the rift and sparking retaliatory violence. Wang's group, aided by Japanese agents like Kagesa Sadaaki, navigated scandals and leaks, including a forged agreement exposed in the press. After grueling negotiations in Shanghai and Tokyo, Wang conceded to harsh Japanese terms, including limited sovereignty and economic controls. On March 30, 1940, he established the Reorganized National Government (RNG) in Nanjing, adopting the nationalist flag with a controversial yellow pennant symbolizing "peace, anticommunism, nation-building." Despite Wang's vision of constitutional democracy, the RNG functioned as a wartime puppet, isolated from Chongqing and resented as traitorous. Wang died in 1944, and the regime collapsed in 1945. #195 The Xiang-Gan 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. In the sweltering grip of August 1939, Chongqing languished under an unbearably hot summer, the air thick with humidity and the weight of impending doom. Perched on a sun-baked hillside along the southern bank of the Jialing River, roughly 10 kilometers from the chaotic heart of the city, loomed a two-story Western-style building. This fortress of stone and resolve, known as the "Huangshan Villa," stood as Chiang Kai-shek's official residence in Chongqing, a sanctuary amid the storm of war. Unless urgent meetings or crises at the Military Affairs Commission demanded his presence, it was here that Chiang orchestrated the fate of a nation on the brink. One fateful evening, as shadows lengthened across the villa, the Bureau of Investigation and Statistics delivered a chilling report from Wang Pengsheng, the director of the Military Affairs Commission's Institute for International Affairs. Wang was no ordinary operative; he was a knowledgeable, experienced, and sharp-minded intellectual, a master of Japanese affairs, and one of Chiang's most trusted aides, his insights cutting like a blade through the fog of deception. In this urgent dispatch, Wang distilled the latest machinations from Japan. After the traitor Wang Jingwei defected to the enemy, Japan glimpsed a sinister new path to conquer China: ramping up political inducements for surrender, with brutal military offensives reduced to mere supporting roles. On June 20, the Japanese Imperial General Headquarters unleashed "strategy" tasks upon its troops in China—to incite local armies, those ragtag "miscellaneous troops," to betray their own, isolating and pulverizing the central army units. Wang Pengsheng saw through the ruse; this "attacking the heart" and "subduing strategies," drawn from the ancient wisdom of China's military sage Sun Tzu, betrayed the Japanese army's desperate straits, manpower stretched thin, supplies dwindling to the point of desperation. Chiang Kai-shek's eyes narrowed as he gripped his red pencil, underlining a passage in the report with deliberate strokes, marking it as a thunderclap of importance or urgency: To cooperate with the establishment of the Wang puppet regime and exert military pressure on the Chongqing government, under the direction of the Imperial General Headquarters, the commander of the Japanese 11th Army, Okamura Yasuji, had formulated the "Xiang-Gan Operation Plan" targeting the main forces of the central army in the Ninth War Zone and was intensifying preparations for its implementation. The words hung heavy in the air like a gathering storm. Chiang Kai-shek rose abruptly, his body protesting with a stiff ache from hours of unyielding vigilance. He stretched his weary waist and legs, then pushed open the wooden door beside the vast sun-facing window, stepping out onto the balcony as if seeking solace from the encroaching night. The balcony commanded a sweeping vista, a momentary escape from the suffocating confines of strategy and betrayal. Gazing downward, the "Fog Capital" Chongqing emerged in rare clarity, serene and layered beneath the fiery embrace of the evening glow. The distant murmur of the Jialing River, flowing ceaselessly like the pulse of a defiant heart, whispered a fleeting sense of ease amid the turmoil. Yet even this pause carried the echoes of war's relentless march. After the Japanese horde seized Wuhan and surged onward to claim Yueyang—only to halt their southward thrust—both Mao Zedong in his Yan'an stronghold and Chiang Kai-shek in Chongqing etched this moment as a pivotal divide in China's War of Resistance Against Japan. Mao proclaimed the war had plunged into the "stalemate phase," a grinding impasse. Chiang, ever the resolute leader, declared the "second phase of the war of resistance" ignited from this very point. But across the vast national battlefield, the first half of 1939 roared with unquenched fury, the air thick with the acrid smoke of gunpowder. From the year's dawn, the Japanese army, bolstered by five divisions and eight mixed brigades, launched ruthless "security consolidation" operations in North China to fortify their blood-soaked conquests, only to be harried and bloodied by the Communist Eighth Route Army slipping behind enemy lines and the valiant troops of the First and Second War Zones. In late March, the Japanese 11th Army stormed Nanchang, clashing in a maelstrom of fire with the four group armies of the Ninth War Zone under the iron command of front-line commander Luo Zhuoying. For a grueling month and a half, the battle raged, the Japanese claiming the city at a staggering cost in lives. Chiang Kai-shek, his fury mounting, demanded a counterattack from the Ninth War Zone, but it crumbled into tragedy, over 20,000 souls lost, including Lieutenant General Chen Anbao, the indomitable commander of the 29th Army. Nanchang remained in enemy hands, fueling Chiang's rage like an inferno unchecked. Then, in May, the Japanese Kwantung Army clashed with Soviet and Mongolian forces in the epic conflagration at Nomonhan. What ignited a spark of grim satisfaction in Chiang was not merely the Japanese rout, with nearly 20,000 of their ranks obliterated, but the broader ripple: this Japan-Soviet inferno would heap pressure upon the invaders in China, weakening their grasp. As the war sank into its stalemate phase, Chiang turned his gaze inward, fiercely guarding his military strength while awaiting the winds of change. He clung to a core conviction: the essence of the War of Resistance boiled down to that single, unbreakable word—"resist." Troops could be sacrificed, territories forsaken, retreats endured when battles turned dire, but surrender was unthinkable. As long as resistance endured, the nation would hold its place among the world's powers, and its leaders their rightful thrones. In time, the tides of international intrigue would shift; the imperialist giants, driven by their own insatiable interests, would not stand idly by as China fell to Japan's maw. With resolve hardening like steel, Chiang Kai-shek strode back to his imposing desk and seized the telephone, dialing Xu Yongchang, the Minister of Military Orders. His voice cut through the line with unyielding command: instruct Deputy Chief of Staff Bai Chongxi, currently in the Ninth War Zone dissecting the bitter lessons of the Nanchang debacle, to hasten and aid Chen Cheng in crafting ironclad military deployments against the looming Japanese "Xiang-Gan Operation" and submit them without delay. As the last defiant ray of sunlight plunged below the horizon, the sprawl of Chongqing's urban expanse succumbed to an enveloping darkness, a shroud of uncertainty. Since the government had fled southward, Chongqing had become a relentless target for Japanese bombers, their payloads raining death and devastation in waves of tragedy. By night, the city enforced ironclad blackout controls, its citizens huddling in fear behind heavy curtains, their lives reduced to whispers in the shadows. Chiang Kai-shek's mind drifted to the pre-war nights of the mountain city, when thousands of lights danced like stars upon the river's rippling waves. A deep, weary sigh escaped him, carrying the burden of a leader who refused to yield. Far from the shadowed balconies of Chongqing, as China's War of Resistance Against Japan plunged into its harrowing third year, the misty haven of Guilin clung to its gentle, rain-soaked serenity, a fragile oasis amid the chaos of a nation torn asunder. Farmers, oblivious to the headlines screaming from distant newspapers, trudged barefoot through the lush fields, guiding massive water buffaloes with their backward-curving horns and deceptively gentle temperaments. Verdant tea groves blanketed the undulating hills, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind, while breezes carried the haunting, sweet-and-sour melodies of mountain songs that seemed to defy the encroaching shadows of war. Those weary souls fleeing the bloodied front lines stumbled into this paradise, their eyes widening in awe, as if they had crossed into a dream untouched by the nightmare raging beyond. Nestled in the northwestern suburbs of the city, the Guilin Office pulsed with the raw energy of command, its operations post concealed within a colossal karst cave, a labyrinth of nature's own fortifications. Amid the jagged stalagmites and dripping stalactites, wires snaked like veins, cables coiled in tense anticipation, and radio antennas reached out like desperate fingers grasping for signals. These were the nerves of war, linking this hidden nerve center to the smoke-choked, blood-drenched front lines where heroes and horrors collided in the unyielding struggle for resistance. Deputy Chief of Staff of the Military Affairs Commission and Director of the Guilin Office—Bai Chongxi—unfolded the telegram folder thrust into his hands by his confidential staff, his heart pounding with the weight of destiny: "To Director Bai in Guilin: Telegram received. Deploy operations according to Plan A. Zhongzheng" Before departing Changsha, the Second Department had already whispered warnings of the Japanese horde's intent to strike southward, and fatefully, an urgent call from Xu Yongchang had demanded the swift forging of a battle plan to confront the enemy. As Bai Chongxi devoured the enemy intelligence, a bold strategy ignited in his mind like a flare in the darkness. Chen Cheng, the steadfast Commander of the Ninth War Zone, championed the tried-and-true tactic of successive resistance, but with a grim twist: retreat would be capped north of Changsha. Front-line troops would grind down the Japanese invaders, bleeding them dry before slipping to the east and west flanks. There, they would pounce on the enemy's exposed sides as the foes pressed southward, culminating in a devastating annihilation beneath the walls of Changsha with the aid of the garrison. This blueprint minimized troop movements and promised a swift, brutal clash. Yet Chen Cheng, burdened by his dual role as Minister of the Political Department of the Military Affairs Commission, had delegated command to Xue Yue as acting Ninth War Zone Commander. In heated deliberations, Xue Yue tilted toward Chen's vision, his resolve echoing the caution of survival. But Bai Chongxi, his strategic mind a whirlwind of innovation, saw a bolder path through the storm. The Japanese forces lurking in the Wuhan area were fractured, split between the Yangtze's north and south, facing off against China's formidable heavy troops. Though intelligence on the scale of their assault remained shrouded in mystery, Bai knew their drawable forces couldn't exceed half their might, and their endurance in sustained combat would falter like a dying flame. "To swallow the attackers whole, the battlefield must be vast and unforgiving, our forces luring them deeper while retreating to the Hengyang area, stretching the enemy thin across a sprawling 200-kilometer wasteland." There, the invaders would wither in passivity, their food and ammunition lines stretched to breaking. Then, in a masterful stroke, troops from the Jiuling and Mufu Mountains would surge westward, while those west of the Xiang River drove eastward, severing every land and water escape route in a vise of total annihilation. Both plans stood as ironclad fortresses of logic, each unassailable in its reasoning, and were dispatched simultaneously to Chiang Kai-shek, the arbiter of China's fate. By rank and protocol, Bai's vision claimed the mantle of Plan A, while Chen's bore the label of Plan B. Bai Chongxi had voiced his conviction and released it to the winds, content to let Chiang's judgment prevail. Bai Chongxi was a master of strategy, whispered among allies as the "Little Zhuge," his intellect a weapon as sharp as any blade. Yet Chen Cheng shared Chiang's Zhejiang roots and the unbreakable bonds of Huangpu camaraderie, drawing him even closer in the inner circle of trust. On such pivotal matters, Bai Chongxi often chose the path of restraint, yielding rather than clashing in futile strife. Five agonizing days after the plans vanished into the ether, Chiang's telegram pierced the tension, affirming the adoption of Plan A. A surge of quiet triumph coursed through Bai Chongxi as he signed the missive and strode toward the operations map, his steps echoing with purpose. While strategic minds clashed in hidden caves and distant villas, the front lines pulsed with the raw grit of soldiers readying for battle. Guan Linzheng had been assigned a mount since 1930, when he became commander of the 1st Regiment of the 2nd Training Division, during the Central Plains War between Chiang, Feng, and Yan. He led the regiment to cover the retreat of the division's main force under Zhang Zhizhong. Pursued by several times their number of Feng-Yan troops, they fought while retreating in dire straits. From night to dawn, heavy fog descended, obscuring visibility beyond dozens of paces. Guan Linzheng's chestnut horse suddenly neighed loudly and charged back toward the pursuers. After trying to rein it in unsuccessfully, Guan simply ordered the troops to countercharge into the fog. Shouts of killing filled the air, gunfire intense. The Feng-Yan troops, unclear of the situation in the fog, thought Chiang reinforcements had arrived and ordered a retreat. By the time the fog cleared, they were gone. Guan's bold cunning successfully completed the cover mission, and he was promoted to brigade commander of the division's 2nd Brigade after the war. In July 1932, during Chiang Kai-shek's fourth encirclement of the Hubei-Henan-Anhui Soviet, Guan Linz…

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3.194 Fall and Rise of China: Wang Jingwei Regime Mar 23, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the Chiang Kai-Shek-Wang Jingwei divide. In the late 1930s, amid the Second Sino-Japanese War, tensions escalated between Chiang Kai-shek and Wang Jingwei. Following the Nomonhan Incident and Soviet-Japanese neutrality pact, Japan intensified its invasion of China. At the 1937 Mount Lu Conference, Chiang delivered a speech committing to resistance against Japanese aggression, though both leaders initially hoped for peace. However, Japan's advances, including the fall of Shanghai and the brutal Rape of Nanjing, displaced millions and relocated the government to Chongqing. Wang, disillusioned by Chiang's scorched-earth tactics—such as the devastating Yellow River flood and Changsha fire, which caused immense civilian suffering, joined a "peace faction" of intellectuals favoring negotiation. In December 1938, Wang defected from Chongqing, fleeing to Hanoi via Kunming to broker peace with Japan. An assassination attempt, likely ordered by Chiang, killed Wang's secretary Zeng Zhongming instead, deepening the rift. #194 The Wang Jingwei Regime 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. The assassination of Zeng Zhongming struck a severe blow to Wang Jingwei. Although Lin Baisheng had been stabbed in Hong Kong in January, Wang apparently did not foresee himself becoming a target. To him, Zeng's death signified that Chiang Kai-shek would no longer tolerate a potential rival to power. In mourning, on April 1, Wang Jingwei published a defiant piece titled "An Example" (Ju yige li) in the South China Daily News. Drawing on Zeng's final words, he argued that a peaceful settlement was not something Wang proposed alone, but a result of a consensus reached at the highest levels of the national government. He referenced the December Hankou minutes in which Trautmann's mediation was discussed. He asserted that the minutes were only one of many covert negotiation instances and, for the sake of national interests, he would reveal no further details. He contended that Konoe's conditions could similarly underpin peace, especially now that a larger portion of China had fallen. He argued that a Sino-Japanese total war would be mutually destructive and must end for both nations to survive. He hoped Zeng's blood would become a bright torch for the "peace movement." This article proved deeply embarrassing for Chiang Kai-shek. Wu Zhihui quickly wrote a rebuttal, accusing Wang of leaking government secrets and falsifying the minutes. However, the original minutes were not released to support Wu's claim. Henceforth, any pretence of civility or understanding between the two camps was lost. This hostility meant that Chongqing's path to peace through negotiation was closed. If Wang ever sought to broker peace between Chongqing and Tokyo, the publication of this article burned that bridge, making his course of action increasingly irreversible. On the Japanese side, the Hiramuma Cabinet, previously uncertain about how to handle Wang, now felt compelled to protect their new asset. Two days after the incident, the Five Ministers Conference decided to send Kagesa Sadaaki and Inukai Takeru to Hanoi immediately. Inukai, a congressman and the son of assassinated prime minister Inukai Tsuyoshi, carried with him the grim memory of a frenzied public cheering for his father's killers, serving as a sobering counterweight to militant nationalism. Zeng's death also inaugurated a bloody cycle of killings and retaliation. Shen Song, Wang Jingwei's nephew, was assassinated in August in Hong Kong. Wang and his followers felt compelled to protect themselves. Lacking military backing, they turned to the secret police, establishing the notorious spy agency known as "No. 76," named after its Shanghai headquarters at 76 Jessfield Road. It recruited the city's worst elements and was led by the defected BIS agent Ding Mocun and Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics agent Li Shiqun. Both men had defected to the Japanese and were handed over to Wang's faction, which thus wielded limited control over them. Spy violence in Shanghai persisted throughout the war, infamous for its brutality and shifting allegiances. Wang Jingwei attempted to erect a martyr's cult around Zeng Zhongming within the RNG. Beginning in 1942, the propaganda ministry in Nanjing held annual memorials on the anniversary of Zeng's death. This date sat between Sun Yat-sen's death (March 12) and the RNG's founding (March 30), and it became part of the RNG's foundational narrative that the Wang regime promoted. Yet the Zeng cult seemed to matter most to Wang Jingwei himself. After Wang's death in November 1944, the propaganda ministry quietly discontinued the Zeng anniversary service, though Sun Yat-sen's death continued to be mourned and the RNG's founding was still celebrated in March 1945, five months before the regime fell. The journey from Hanoi to Nanjing was long and winding, and Wang Jingwei eventually emerged at the far end as both an emblem and an enigma. To his followers and sympathizers, he was a cult figure who single-handedly saved half of China from total subjugation, likened to a bodhisattva who descended into Hell to rescue tortured souls. To others, his name became a byword for treason. The resistance ultimately gained unity through its hatred of traitors. For the Japanese government, Wang's role and value evolved with the war's shifting dynamics, at times seeming to be an asset, a puppet, an enemy, and a partner all at once. After months of courtship, Kagesa Sadaaki and Inukai Takeru became the first Japanese agents to meet Wang in person. On April 16, they arrived in French Indochina with forged passports aboard a rented civilian vessel, the Hikkōmaru. They found Wang entangled in a fresh scandal. Eleven days earlier, Chongqing's Dagongbao published an alleged secret agreement that Gao Zongwu claimed Wang had brokered in late February. In this plan, Wang proposed forming a GMD collaborationist organization with branches in key Japanese-occupied cities. When the Japanese army moved toward Xi'an, Yichang, and Nanning, Wang would make a statement to "take responsibility for peace," while Long Yun and other local warlords would respond to the call. A new national government under Wang would be established in Nanjing on October 10, 1939, creating a unified government over all of China (excluding Manchukuo) and making Japan its ally in East Asia. All of these activities would be funded by the Japanese government. The plan provoked an uproar, with critics accusing Wang of "selling the nation." Gao Zongwu was suspected of leaking the plan, and Wang denied that the agreement existed. Gao accused the Japanese of leaking a forged plan to sow further division between Chongqing and Wang. Wang's supporters were deeply divided. Gao later claimed he came to prefer the French option, citing Japan's insincerity. Chen Gongbo suggested Wang remain in Hong Kong first to recover from Zeng Zhongming's death before going overseas. Zhou Fohai and Mei Siping favored international concessions in Shanghai. Kagesa and Inukai's mission was to bring Wang into Japan's grasp. On April 18, through Wang's Japanese-language secretary Zhou Longxiang, the Japanese agents met him for the first time. Wang Jingwei, dressed in a traditional Chinese-style long white robe, impressed them with his characteristic poise and sincerity, as he often did with visitors. It was not the first time his personal charm helped him escape danger. If in 1910 he avoided death as a byproduct of Prince Su's favor, in the following decades he weaponized his intimate charisma. These agents, moved by Wang's apparent altruism and sincerity, eventually played a peculiar role as intermediaries between the Japanese government and Chinese collaborators. The Umē Kikan "Plum Agency" was founded on August 22, 1939, in Shanghai under Kagesa's leadership and was seen as a puppet master guiding the RNG's fate. Yet it often fought on behalf of the collaborators with the Japanese cabinet to secure better terms. Kagesa Sadaaki, initially an advocate of aggressive strategy, especially in Manchuria, was removed from his post as supreme military advisor at Nanjing in May 1942 by the new prime minister, Tojo Hideki, who deemed him "too soft toward China." He was reassigned to Manchuria and eventually to Rabaul. In the shadow of illness and death, he produced a memoir in December 1943 to atone for having failed Wang's trust. In truth, perhaps because of Kagesa's sympathy, Wang remained cautiously optimistic about Japan's intentions, unable to disengage from negotiations even as conditions deteriorated. Wang Jingwei chose Shanghai as the destination, but he refused to board a Japanese ship or reside in the Hongkou concession, preferring other autonomous international concessions to avoid appearances of patronage. Unfortunately, the 750-ton vessel rented from the Indochina government nearly foundered in a storm. In Hainan, Wang and his entourage were rescued by the 5,000-ton Hikkōmaru. On May 6, they finally arrived in Shanghai aboard a Japanese ship. For security reasons, Wang had to stay in the Hongkou District for three weeks before moving to 1136 Lane Yúyuan Road, a site within the expanded, unofficial French concession. This episode became another public relations setback. After reaching Shanghai, on May 28 the Wang group presented the Japanese government with a "Concrete Plan to Solve the Current Situation." Key proposals included: convening a GMD national congress to preserve orthodoxy; calling a multiparty central political conference to legitimize a reorganization of the national government and approve personnel choices; founding a national government in Nanjing and dissolving existing collaborationist regimes to signal national unity. Three days later, Wang flew to Japan by navy plane to meet Hiranuma in person, accompanied by eleven followers including Zhou Fohai, Mei Siping, and Gao Zongwu. It was his first visit to Japan in three decades, aside from occasional stopovers. When he left Japan in 1910, many Japanese intellectuals and politicians supported China's modernization and backed its Nationalist revolution morally and financially. Now, with such goodwill scarce, he hoped to appeal to Japan's rational self-interest. In Tokyo, a June 6 cabinet meeting concluded that the new Chinese government would comprise Wang, the retired strongman Wu Peifu, established collaborationist regimes, and a reformed Chongqing regime; the foundation date would be set by Japan. The plan called for collaboration under a divided governance framework, and the GMD could continue only if it pledged friendship to Japan, recognized Manchukuo, and committed to anti-communism. The document's tone suggested trouble for Wang's visit, and the gap between each side's demands seemed insurmountable. Over the next ten days, Wang held marathon meetings with Hiranuma, cabinet members, and Prince Konoe. He briefed his followers daily, appearing increasingly despondent. He suggested Japan's best option was to strike a peace deal with Chiang Kai-shek; the second option was peace via a new national government under Wang, for which he demanded: an army of about half a million, immediate withdrawal of Japanese forces after his government's foundation, non-interference in China's internal affairs, immediate recognition of his government by Japan, Germany, and Italy, a three-hundred-million-yen loan, and administrative control over North China. Japanese officials listened politely but added numerous conditions. Frustrated, Wang began to walk away. Alarmed, the Japanese cabinet made some concessions on June 16, and the "Concrete Plan" was approved, though it still insisted on divided governance and did not address the crucial issue of a military withdrawal. On June 18, Wang departed Japan for Tianjin. This negotiation round was only the prelude. Beyond questions of jurisdiction, military occupation, and economic renationalization, Wang insisted on preserving an ostensibly unified "national government," including its official doctrine (the Three Principles) and the nationalist flag, and he pressed for annexation of existing collaborationist regimes in Beiping and Nanjing. This was a daunting task, as each regime had a different patron. After the fall of Nanjing, the North China Area Army instructed Wang Kemin to establish a provisional government in Beiping. Liang Hongzhi was recruited by the Central China Area Army to lead the Reformed Government in Nanjing, founded on March 28, 1938. Both were Beiyang loyalists, and their regimes used the Five-Color Beiyang flag, an anti-GMD symbol. Asking them to subordinate themselves to a "latecomer" and old rival proved difficult. Wang's aim was thus to reassert GMD political authority over occupied territories. However, the idea of creating a client government that would conflict with Chongqing split Wang's followers and even some Japanese sympathizers. Gao Zongwu, Nishi Yoshiaki, and Matsumoto Shigeharu opposed the plan. Given Gao Zongwu's growing pessimism, Japan's eventual negotiating partner leaned more toward the optimistic Zhou Fohai. Wang sought legitimacy to give his future government the appearance of autonomy, despite Japan's backing. As historian David Serfass observed, aligned with Sun Yat-sen's concept of "political tutelage," a state-formation process must be initiated by the ruling party. Thus, reorganizing an "orthodox" GMD in occupied China became a prerequisite for reconstituting the state's legal framework in Nanjing, enabling the new regime to claim legitimate authority vis-à-vis Chongqing. On August 28, 1939, the Sixth National Congress of the GMD was held in Shanghai. With most Reorganization Clique members declining to join, CC Clique members within Wang's circle recruited locally, and thirty-six CC Clique members in Shanghai endorsed Wang, giving his faction dominance at the congress. This foreshadowed a future RNG split between the Mansion Clique (gongguan pai) around the Wang couple and the CC Clique around Zhou Fohai. The communique did not reject resistance outright but criticized Chiang's methods, arguing that Wang's negotiations had already achieved the goal of national resistance—peace. Among other resolutions, the congress revised the GMD charter, abolished the authoritarian zongcai system, elected Wang as chairman of the Central Executive Committee, and redefined the highest principles as the Three Principles, anticontainment of communism, and friendship with Japan and Manchukuo. Civil liberties, such as freedom of speech and assembly, were protected, though communists were excluded. The congress promised to convene a national assembly and promulgate a constitution once peace was achieved. Importantly, it opened the door for other parties to jo…

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3.193 Fall and Rise of China: Chiang-Wang Divide Mar 16, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the Soviet-Japanese neutrality pact. In the summer of 1939, the Nomonhan Incident escalated into a major clash along the Halha River, where Soviet-Mongolian forces under Georgy Zhukov decisively defeated Japan's Kwantung Army. Zhukov's offensive, launched on August 20, involved intense artillery, bombers, and encirclement tactics, annihilating the Japanese 23rd Division and exposing weaknesses in Japanese mechanized warfare. The defeat, coinciding with the Hitler-Stalin Nonaggression Pact, forced Japan to negotiate a ceasefire on September 15-16, redrawing borders and deterring further northern expansion. Stalin navigated negotiations with Britain, France, and Germany to avoid a two-front war, ultimately signing the German-Soviet pact on August 23, which secured Soviet neutrality in Europe while addressing eastern threats. Post-Nomonhan, Soviet-Japanese relations warmed rapidly: fishing disputes were resolved, ambassadors exchanged, and the Chinese Eastern Railway sale finalized. By 1941, a neutrality pact was concluded, allowing Japan to pivot southward toward China and Southeast Asia. #193 The Chiang-Wang Divide Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After that lengthy mini series covering the battle of Khalkin Gol, we need to venture back into the second sino-japanese war, however like many other colossal events….well a lot was going on simultaneously. I wanted to take an episode to talk about the beginning of something known as the Reorganized National Government of the Republic of China, or much shorter, the Wang Jingwei Regime. It's been quite some time since we spoke about this character and he is a large part of the second sino-japanese war. After the fall of Tianjin and Beiping, the government offices in Nanjing entered their annual summer recess. All of GMD's senior leadership, from Chiang Kai-shek down to Wang Jingwei, gathered on Mount Lu, a picturesque resort in northern Jiangxi, south of the Yangtze, famed for cliffs, clouds, and summer villas. Although Chiang had visited Mount Lu every summer, this was the first occasion that nearly the entire central government assembled there. Analysts suspected the gathering was a deliberate move to relocate government functions inland in the event of total war. Dozens of the nation's leading intellectuals were invited to Mount Lu to discuss strategies for countering Japan's ambitions. The forum was scheduled to begin on July 15 and to last twenty-seven days in three phases. The bridge incident caught them off guard. Unlike Manchuria, Beiping had long been the nation's capital, and the shock added urgency to the proceedings. When the forum, chaired by Wang, finally opened on July 16, speculation ran as to whether this signaled another regional conflict or the onset of full-scale war. The media pressed for a resolute stance of resistance from the government. To dispel the mounting confusion and perhaps his own indecision, Chiang delivered a solemn speech on July 17, declaring that if the incident could not be resolved peacefully, China would face the "crucial juncture" of national survival and would consider military action; if war began, every Chinese person, from every corner of the country and from every walk of life, would have to sacrifice all to defend the nation. Chiang's Mount Lu Speech was now commonly regarded as the moment when China publicly proclaimed its firm commitment to resistance. Contemporary observers, however, did not take Chiang's stance at face value. Tao Xisheng, a Peking University law professor who had been invited, recalled that after the speech, people gathered in Hu Shi's room to discuss whether a peace option remained. Chiang left the mountain on July 20, leaving Wang to chair the conference. The discussions continued upon their return to Nanjing, where a National Defense Conference was organized in mid-August. It was also Tao's first encounter with Wang Jingwei. A "peace faction," largely composed of civil officials and intellectuals, began to take shape around Wang, favoring diplomatic solutions over costly and potentially ineffective military action. During this period, both Chiang and Wang publicly called for resistance, while both harbored hopes for a peaceful solution. Yet their emphases differed. On July 29, Wang Jingwei delivered a radio address from Nanjing titled "The Critical Juncture," echoing Chiang's slogan. He likewise asserted that after repeated concessions and retreats, the critical juncture had come for China to rise against Japan. It would be a harsh form of resistance, since a weak nation had no alternative but to sacrifice every citizen's life and scorch every inch of land. Yet toward the end, Wang's speech took on an ironic turn. He stated, "The so-called resistance demands sacrificing the whole land and the whole nation to resist the invader. If there is no weakness in the world, then there is also no strength. Once we have completed the sacrifice, we also realize the purpose of resistance. We hail 'the critical juncture'! We hail 'sacrifice'!" The sentiment sounded almost satirical, revealing his doubt about the meaning of total sacrifice. The hope for containment was crushed by Japan's ongoing advances. On November 12, Shanghai fell. Chiang's gamble produced about 187,200 Chinese casualties, including roughly 30,000 officers trained to German standards. Japanese casualties were estimated at a third to a half of the Chinese losses, still making it their deadliest single battle to date. The battered Japanese Imperial Army and Navy, long convinced of their invincibility, were consumed by vengeful bloodlust. The army swept from Shanghai toward Nanjing, leaving a trail of murder, rape, arson, and plunder across China's heartland. With the fall of Nanjing looming, the central government announced on November 20 that it would relocate to Chongqing, a city upriver on the Yangtze protected by sheer cliffs. Plans for Chongqing as a reserve capital had already begun in 1935, with Hankou as the midway station. To preserve elite troops for the future while saving face, Nanjing was entrusted to General Tang Shengzhi and his roughly one hundred thousand largely inexperienced soldiers. Nanjing fell on December 13. Despite this victory, Japan's hopes of ending the China Incident within three months were dashed. The carnage produced by the war, especially the Rape of Nanjing, left a profound moral stain on humanity. A mass exodus from the coastal provinces toward the hinterland began. People fled by boats, trains, buses, rickshaws, and wheelbarrows. Universities, factories, and ordinary households were moved halfway across China, step by step. The nation resolved to persevere, even in distant mountains and deserts if necessary. In Sichuan alone, government relief agencies officially registered about 9.2 million refugees during the war years. Chiang Kai-shek, after paying respects at Sun Yat-sen's mausoleum, flew to Mount Lu with Song Meiling. The so-called Second Couple chose a more modest path: like most refugees, the Wang family traveled upriver along the Yangtze. On November 21, they left Nanjing, abandoning a recently renovated suburban home and thirty years of collected books. Coincidentally, the ship carrying Wang Jingwei from Nanjing to Wuhan was SS Yongsui, the former SS Zhongshan that had escorted Sun Yat-sen to safety and witnessed Wang's ascent and subsequent downfall from power. Ironically renamed "Yong-sui," the ship's new title meant "peace," while the compound term suijing denoted a policy of appeasement. This symbolism—Wang being carried away from Nanjing by a ship named "Eternal Peace"—foreshadowed his eventual return to the city as a champion of a "peace movement." After the Mount Lu Forum, Hu Shi and Tao Xisheng could not return to Beiping, now under Japanese occupation. They joined the government in Nanjing. Beginning in mid-August, Japanese bombers began attacking Nanjing. Air power—an unprecedented weapon of mass destruction—humbled and awed a Chinese public largely unfamiliar with airborne warfare. By striking a target that did not serve its immediate interests, Japan demonstrated its world-class military might and employed psychological warfare against the Chinese government and people. Because Zhou Fohai's villa at Xiliuwan had a fortified cellar suitable as an air-raid shelter, a group of like-minded intellectuals and civil servants sought refuge there. They preferred a peaceful approach to the conflict, subscribing to the idea of trading space for time—building China's industrial and military capabilities before confronting Japan. Tao Xisheng and Mei Siping, old allies of Zhou Fohai, lived in his house. Another frequent guest was Luo Junqiang, an ex-communist. The former CCP leader Chen Duxiu, recently released from prison, joined their gatherings a few times. Gao Zongwu hosted another meeting site. Hu Shi, as a guest himself, jokingly called this circle the "Low-Key Club" (Didiao julebu), a label that underscored their pragmatic defiance of the government's high-flown rhetoric urging all-out resistance. Many members of this group would later become central figures in a conspiracy known as the "peace movement," with Wang Jingwei as its leader and emblem. As Gerald Bunker noted, the peace scheme did not originate with Wang but with certain associates of Chiang, elements in Japanese military intelligence, and members of liberal-minded Japanese political circles who were linked to Konoe. Zhou Fohai belonged to the Chiang-loyalist CC faction, named for Chen Guofu and Chen Lifu. Zhou believed that resistance under current conditions was suicidal. He sought to influence Chiang through people around him, including Wang Jingwei, whom he found impressionable and began visiting at Wang's salon. Gao Zongwu, head of the Foreign Ministry's Asian Department, felt sidelined by Chiang's uncompromising stance. They shared the sense that Chiang might be willing to talk but feared the price, perhaps his own leadership. They were dismayed by the lack of a long-range war plan beyond capitulation. Their view was that China's battlefield losses would worsen the terms of any settlement, and that the war's outcome seemed to benefit Soviet Russia and undermine the GMD more than China itself. The rapid collapses of Shanghai and then Nanjing vindicated their pessimism. Chiang's autocratic decision-making only deepened their dissatisfaction. They feared China was again at risk of foreign conquest from which it might not recover. Wang Jingwei became the focal point for these disaffected individuals, drawn by his pacifist leanings, intellectual temperament, and preference for consensus-building. After the government relocated to Hankou, he lent guidance to the Literature and Art Research Society (Yiwen yanjiu hui), a propagandist body led by Zhou Fohai and Tao Xisheng. Its purpose was to steer public opinion on issues like the war of resistance and anticommunism, and to advocate a stance that the government must preserve both peace and war as options. Many believed it to be Wang's private organization; in truth, Chiang supported its activities. For much of 1938, Chiang's belligerent anti-Japanese rhetoric and Wang's conciliatory push were two sides of the GMD's broader strategy. Among the society's regional branches, the Hong Kong chapter flourished under Mei Siping and Lin Baisheng. In addition to editing South China Daily News, Lin established Azure Books and the International Compilation and Translation Society (Guoji bianyishe) as primary propaganda organs. Ironically, Mei Siping had himself been a radical during the 1919 student protests, when he helped set fire to the deputy foreign minister's house in protest of perceived capitulation to Japan. Wang Jingwei also actively engaged in international efforts to broker peace between Japan and China, including Trautmann's mediation by the German ambassador. Since the outbreak of war, various Western powers had contemplated serving as mediators, but none succeeded. Nazi Germany, aligned with Japan in an anti-Soviet partnership, emerged as China's most likely ally because it did not want Japan to squander its strength in China or compel China to seek Soviet help. Conversely, Japan's interest lay in prolonging the war or achieving a swift settlement. Ambassador Trautmann met with Wang Jingwei multiple times from October 31 to early November 1937 to confirm China's preference for peace before negotiating with Japan. The proposal Trautmann carried to Chiang Kai-shek on November 5 proposed terms including autonomy for Inner Mongolia, a larger demilitarized zone in North China, an expanded cease-fire around Shanghai, a halt to anti-Japanese movements, an anti-communist alliance, reduced tariffs on Japanese goods, and protection of foreign interests in China. Although Japan did not specify territorial gains, these terms deviated significantly from Chiang's demand to restore pre–Marco Polo Bridge status. After Shanghai fell, Chiang's rigidity softened. On December 5, at Hankou, the National Defense Conference agreed to begin peace negotiations based on Trautmann's terms, a decision Chiang approved. But it was too late: Nanjing fell on December 13, and a provisional Beiping government led by Wang Kemin was established, signaling Japan's growing support for regional separatism. On December 24, Japan issued an ultimatum for a harsher deal to be accepted by January 10. In response, Chiang resigned as chairman of the Executive Yuan on January 1, 1938, and was succeeded by his brother-in-law Kong Xiangxi. Chiang declared that death in defeat was preferable to death in disgrace and refused to yield under coercion. The Konoe Cabinet announced on January 16 that Japan would not negotiate with Chiang Kai-shek. Trautmann's mediation had failed. After Konoe's announcement, mediation became even more precarious, as it placed the already deadly, no-win situation between the two nations in deeper jeopardy. Secret contacts between the two governments persisted through multiple channels—sometimes at the direction of their own leaders, other times at the initiative of a cadre of officials and quasi-official figures of dubious legitimacy. Many of these covert efforts were steered by Chiang himself. In late 1937, Wang Jingwei even sent Chen Gongbo to Rome to explore the possibility of Italian mediation between China and Japan. After meetings with Mussolini and Foreign Minister Ciano, Chen concluded that Italy had no genuine goodwill toward China and favored Japan. His conversations with other Western leaders (Belgium, France, Britain, and the United States) proved equally fruitless. In diaries, Zhou Fohai and Chen Kewen recorded a pervasive mood of pessimism among Hankou and Chongqing's national government factions. Although direct champions of negotiating with Japan were few, many voices insiste…

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3.192 Fall and Rise of China: Soviet–Japanese Neutrality Pact Mar 09, 2026

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Last time we spoke about the end of the battle of khalkin gol. In the summer of 1939, the Nomonhan Incident escalated into a major border conflict between Soviet-Mongolian forces and Japan's Kwantung Army along the Halha River. Despite Japanese successes in July, Zhukov launched a decisive offensive on August 20. Under cover of darkness, Soviet troops crossed the river, unleashing over 200 bombers and intense artillery barrages that devastated Japanese positions. Zhukov's northern, central, and southern forces encircled General Komatsubara's 23rd Division, supported by Manchukuoan units. Fierce fighting ensued: the southern flank collapsed under Colonel Potapov's armor, while the northern Fui Heights held briefly before falling to relentless assaults, including flame-throwing tanks. Failed Japanese counterattacks on August 24 resulted in heavy losses, with regiments shattered by superior Soviet firepower and tactics. By August 25, encircled pockets were systematically eliminated, leading to the annihilation of the Japanese 6th Army. The defeat, coinciding with the Hitler-Stalin Pact, forced Japan to negotiate a ceasefire on September 15-16, redrawing borders. Zhukov's victory exposed Japanese weaknesses in mechanized warfare, influencing future strategies and deterring further northern expansion. #192 The Soviet–Japanese Neutrality Pact Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Despite the fact this technically will go into future events, I thought it was important we talk about a key moment in Sino history. Even though the battle of changkufeng and khalkin gol were not part of the second sino-Japanese war, their outcomes certainly would affect it. Policymaking by the Soviet Union alone was not the primary factor in ending Moscow's diplomatic isolation in the late 1930s. After the Munich Conference signaled the failure of the popular front/united front approach, Neville Chamberlain, Adolf Hitler, and Poland's Józef Beck unintentionally strengthened Joseph Stalin's position in early 1939. Once the strategic cards were in his hands, Stalin capitalized on them. His handling of negotiations with Britain and France, as well as with Germany, from April to August was deft and effective. The spring and summer negotiations among the European powers are well documented and have been examined from many angles. In May 1939, while Stalin seemed to have the upper hand in Europe, yet before Hitler had signaled that a German–Soviet agreement might be possible, the Nomonhan incident erupted, a conflict initiated and escalated by the Kwantung Army. For a few months, the prospect of a Soviet–Japanese war revived concerns in Moscow about a two-front conflict. Reviewing Soviet talks with Britain, France, and Germany in the spring and summer of 1939 from an East Asian perspective sheds fresh light on the events that led to the German–Soviet Nonaggression Pact and, more broadly, to the outbreak of World War II. The second week of May marked the start of fighting at Nomonhan, during which negotiations between Germany and the USSR barely advanced beyond mutual scrutiny. Moscow signaled that an understanding with Nazi Germany might be possible. Notably, on May 4, the removal of Maksim Litvinov as foreign commissar and his replacement by Vyacheslav Molotov suggested a shift in approach. Litvinov, an urbane diplomat of Jewish origin and married to an Englishwoman, had been the leading Soviet proponent of the united-front policy and a steadfast critic of Nazi Germany. If a settlement with Hitler was sought, Litvinov was an unsuitable figure to lead the effort. Molotov, though with limited international experience, carried weight as chairman of the Council of Ministers and, more importantly, as one of Stalin's closest lieutenants. This personnel change seemed to accomplish its aim in Berlin, where the press was instructed on May 5 to halt polemical attacks on the Soviet Union and Bolshevism. On the same day, Karl Schnurre, head of the German Foreign Ministry's East European trade section, told Soviet chargé d'affaires Georgi Astakhov that Skoda, the German-controlled Czech arms manufacturer, would honor existing arms contracts with Russia. Astakhov asked whether, with Litvinov's departure, Germany might resume negotiations for a trade treaty Berlin had halted months earlier. By May 17, during discussions with Schnurre, Astakhov asserted that "there were no conflicts in foreign policy between Germany and the Soviet Union and that there was no reason for enmity between the two countries," and that Britain and France's negotiations appeared unpromising. The next day, Ribbentrop personally instructed Schulenburg to green-light trade talks. Molotov, however, insisted that a "political basis" for economic negotiations had to be established first. Suspicion remained high on both sides. Stalin feared Berlin might use reports of German–Soviet talks to destabilize a potential triple alliance with Britain and France; Hitler feared Stalin might use such reports to entice Tokyo away from an anti-German pact. The attempt to form a tripartite military alliance among Germany, Italy, and Japan foundered over divergent aims: Berlin targeted Britain and France; Tokyo aimed at the Soviet Union. Yet talks persisted through August 1939, with Japanese efforts to draw Germany into an anti-Soviet alignment continually reported to Moscow by Richard Sorge. Hitler and Mussolini, frustrated by Japanese objections, first concluded the bilateral Pact of Steel on May 22. The next day, Hitler, addressing his generals, stressed the inevitability of war with Poland and warned that opposition from Britain would be crushed militarily. He then hinted that Russia might "prove disinterested in the destruction of Poland," suggesting closer ties with Japan if Moscow opposed Germany. The exchange was quickly leaked to the press. Five days later, the first pitched battle of the Nomonhan campaign began. Although Hitler's timing with the Yamagata detachment's foray was coincidental, Moscow may have found the coincidence ominous. Despite the inducement of Molotov's call for a political basis before economic talks, Hitler and Ribbentrop did not immediately respond. On June 14, Astakhov signaled to Parvan Draganov, Bulgaria's ambassador in Berlin, that the USSR faced three options: ally with Britain and France, continue inconclusive talks with them, or align with Germany, the latter being closest to Soviet desires. Draganov relayed to the German Foreign Ministry that Moscow preferred a non-aggression agreement if Germany would pledge not to attack the Soviet Union. Two days later, Schulenburg told Astakhov that Germany recognized the link between economic and political relations and was prepared for far-reaching talks, a view echoed by Ribbentrop. The situation remained tangled: the Soviets pursued overt talks with Britain and France, while Stalin sought to maximize Soviet leverage. Chamberlain's stance toward Moscow remained wary but recognized a "psychological value" to an Anglo–Soviet rapprochement, tempered by his insistence on a hard bargain. American ambassador William C. Bullitt urged London to avoid the appearance of pursuing the Soviets, a view that resonated with Chamberlain's own distrust. Public confidence in a real Anglo–Soviet alliance remained low. By July 19, cabinet minutes show Chamberlain could not quite believe a genuine Russia–Germany alliance was possible, though he recognized the necessity of negotiations with Moscow to deter Hitler and to mollify an increasingly skeptical British public. Despite reservations, both sides kept the talks alive. Stalin's own bargaining style, with swift Soviet replies but frequent questions and demands, often produced delays. Molotov pressed on questions such as whether Britain and France would pledge to defend the Baltic states, intervene if Japan attacked the USSR, or join in opposing Germany if Hitler pressured Poland or Romania. These considerations were not trivial; they produced extended deliberations. On July 23, Molotov demanded that plans for coordinated military action among the three powers be fleshed out before a political pact. Britain and France accepted most political terms, and an Anglo-French military mission arrived in Moscow on August 11. The British commander, Admiral Sir Reginald Plunket-Ernle-Erle-Drax, conducted staff talks but could not conclude a military agreement. The French counterpart, General Joseph Doumenc, could sign but not bind his government. By then, Hitler had set August 26 as the date for war with Poland. With that looming, Hitler pressed for Soviet neutrality, or closer cooperation. In July and August, secret German–Soviet negotiations favored the Germans, who pressed for a rapid settlement and made most concessions. Yet Stalin benefited from keeping the British and French engaged, creating leverage against Hitler and safeguarding a potential Anglo–Soviet option as a fallback. To lengthen the talks and avoid immediate resolution, Moscow emphasized the Polish issue. Voroshilov demanded the Red Army be allowed to operate through Polish territory to defend Poland, a demand Warsaw would never accept. Moscow even floated a provocative plan: if Britain and France could compel Poland to permit Baltic State naval operations, the Western fleets would occupy Baltic ports, an idea that would have been militarily perilous and diplomatically explosive. Despite this, Stalin sought an agreement with Germany. Through Richard Sorge's intelligence, Moscow knew Tokyo aimed to avoid large-scale war with the USSR, and Moscow pressed for a German–Soviet settlement, including a nonaggression pact and measures to influence Japan to ease Sino–Japanese tensions. On August 16, Ribbentrop instructed Schulenburg to urge Molotov and Stalin toward a nonaggression pact and to coordinate with Japan. Stalin signaled willingness, and August 23–24 saw the drafting of the pact and the collapse of the Soviet and Japanese resistance elsewhere. That night, in a memorandum of Ribbentrop's staff, seven topics were summarized, with Soviet–Japanese relations and Molotov's insistence that Berlin demonstrate good faith standing out. Ribbentrop reiterated his willingness to influence Japan for a more favorable Soviet–Japanese relationship, and Stalin's reply indicated a path toward a détente in the East alongside the European agreement: "M. Stalin replied that the Soviet Union indeed desired an improvement in its relations with Japan, but that there were limits to its patience with regard to Japanese provocations. If Japan desired war she could have it. The Soviet Union was not afraid of it and was prepared for it. If Japan desired peace—so much the better! M. Stalin considered the assistance of Germany in bringing about an improvement in Soviet-Japanese relations as useful, but he did not want the Japanese to get the impression that the initiative in this direction had been taken by the Soviet Union." Second, the assertion that the Soviet Union was prepared for and unafraid of war with Japan is an overstatement, though Stalin certainly had grounds for optimism regarding the battlefield situation and the broader East Asian strategic balance. It is notable that, despite the USSR's immediate diplomatic and military gains against Japan, Stalin remained anxious to conceal from Tokyo any peace initiative that originated in Moscow. That stance suggests that Tokyo or Hsinking might read such openness as a sign of Soviet weakness or confidence overextended. The Japanese danger, it would seem, did not disappear from Stalin's mind. Even at the height of his diplomatic coup, Stalin was determined not to burn bridges prematurely. On August 21, while he urged Hitler to send Ribbentrop to Moscow, he did not sever talks with Britain and France. Voroshilov requested a temporary postponement on the grounds that Soviet delegation officers were needed for autumn maneuvers. It was not until August 25, after Britain reiterated its resolve to stand by Poland despite the German–Soviet pact, that Stalin sent the Anglo–French military mission home. Fortified by the nonaggression pact, which he hoped would deter Britain and France from action, Hitler unleashed his army on Poland on September 1. Two days later, as Zhukov's First Army Group was completing its operations at Nomonhan, Hitler faced a setback when Britain and France declared war. Hitler had hoped to finish Poland quickly in 1939 and avoid fighting Britain and France until 1940. World War II in Europe had begun. The Soviet–Japanese conflict at Nomonhan was not the sole, nor even the principal, factor prompting Stalin to conclude an alliance with Hitler. Standing aside from a European war that could fracture the major capitalist powers might have been reason enough. Yet the conflict with Japan in the East was also a factor in Stalin's calculations, a dimension that has received relatively little attention in standard accounts of the outbreak of the war. This East Asian focus seeks to clarify the record without proposing a revolutionary reinterpretation of Soviet foreign policy; rather, it adds an important piece often overlooked in the "origins of the Second World War" puzzle, helping to reduce the overall confusion. The German–Soviet agreement provided for the Soviet occupation of the eastern half of Poland soon after Germany's invasion. On September 3, just forty-eight hours after the invasion and on the day Britain and France declared war, Ribbentrop urged Moscow to invade Poland from the east. Yet, for two more weeks, Poland's eastern frontier remained inviolate; Soviet divisions waited at the border, as most Polish forces were engaged against Germany. The German inquiries about the timing of the Soviet invasion continued, but the Red Army did not move. This inactivity is often attributed to Stalin's caution and suspicion, but that caution extended beyond Europe. Throughout early September, sporadic ground and air combat continued at Nomonhan, including significant activity by Kwantung Army forces on September 8–9, and large-scale air engagements on September 1–2, 4–5, and 14–15. Not until September 15 was the Molotov–Togo cease-fire arrangement finalized, to take effect on September 16. The very next morning, September 17, the Red Army crossed the Polish frontier into a country collapsed at its feet. It appears that Stalin wanted to ensure that fighting on his eastern flank had concluded before engaging in Western battles, avoiding a two-front war. Through such policies, Stalin avoided the disaster of a two-front war. Each principal in the 1939 diplomatic maneuvering pursued distinct objectives. The British sought an arrangement with the USSR that would deter Hitler from attacking Poland and, if deterred, bind Moscow to the Anglo–French alliance. Hitler sought an alliance with the USSR to deter Britain and France from aiding Poland and, if they did aid Poland, to secure Soviet neutrality. Japan sought a military alliance with Germany against the USSR, or faili…

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3.191 Fall and Rise of China: Zhukov's Steel Ring of Fire at Nomonhan Mar 02, 2026

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Last time we spoke about General Zhukov's armor offensives at Nomohan. Following heavy Japanese losses in May and June, General Georgy Zhukov arrives in June, reorganizes the Soviet 1st Army Group, and bolsters it with tanks, artillery, and reinforcements. The July offensive sees General Komatsubara's forces cross the Halha River undetected, achieving initial surprise. However, General Yasuoka's tank assault falters due to muddy terrain, inadequate infantry support, and superior Soviet firepower, resulting in heavy losses. Japanese doctrine emphasizing spiritual superiority clashes with material realities, undermining morale as intelligence underestimates Soviet strength. Zhukov learns key lessons in armored warfare, adapting tactics despite high casualties. Reinforcements pour in via massive truck convoys. Japanese night attacks and artillery duels fail, exposing logistical weaknesses. Internal command tensions, including gekokujo defiance, hinder responses. By August, Stalin, buoyed by European diplomacy and Sorge's intel, greenlights a major offensive. Zhukov employs deception for surprise. Warnings of Soviet buildup are ignored, setting the stage for a climactic encirclement on August 20. #191 Zhukov Steel Ring of Fire at Nomohan Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. On the night of August 19–20, under cover of darkness, the bulk of the Soviet 1st Army Group crossed the Halha River into the expanded Soviet enclave on the east bank. Two weeks of nightly Soviet sound effects had paid off: Japanese perimeter troops failed to distinguish the real deployment from the frequently heard simulations. Zhukov's order of battle was as follows: "Northern force, commanded by Colonel Alekseenko—6th Mongolian Cavalry Division, 601st Infantry Regiment (82nd Division), 7th Armored Brigade, 2 battalions of the 11th Tank Brigade, 82nd Artillery Regiment, and 87th Anti-tank Brigade. Central force, where Zhukov was located, commanded by his deputy, Colonel Petrov—36th Motorized Infantry Division, 82nd Infantry Division (less one regiment), 5th Infantry Machine Gun Brigade. Southern force, commanded by Colonel Potapov—8th Mongolian Cavalry Division, 57th Infantry Division, 8th Armored Brigade, 6th Tank Brigade, 11th Tank Brigade (less two battalions), 185th Artillery Regiment, 37th Anti-tank Brigade, one independent tank company. A mobile strategic reserve built around the 212th Airborne Regiment, the 9th Mechanized Brigade, and a battalion of the 6th Tank Brigade was held west of the Halha River." The Soviet offensive was supported by massed artillery, a hallmark of Zhukov's operations in the war against Germany. In addition to nearly 300 antitank and rapid-fire guns, Zhukov deployed over 200 field and heavy artillery pieces on both sides of the Halha. Specific artillery batteries were assigned to provide supporting fire for each attacking infantry and armored unit at the battalion level and higher. In the early hours of August 20, the sky began to lighten over the semiarid plain, with the false promise of a quiet Sunday morning. The air was clear as the sun warmed the ground that had been chilled overnight. General Komatsubara's troops were in no special state of readiness when the first wave of more than 200 Soviet bombers crossed the Halha River at 5:45 a.m. and began pounding their positions. When the bombers withdrew, a thunderous artillery barrage began, continuing for 2 hours and 45 minutes. That was precisely the time needed for the bombers to refuel, rearm, and return for a second run over the Japanese positions. Finally, all the Soviet artillery unleashed an intensive 15-minute barrage at the forwardmost Japanese positions. Komatsubara's men huddled in their trenches under the heaviest bombardment to which they or any other Japanese force had ever been subjected. The devastation, both physical and psychological, was tremendous, especially in the forward positions. The shock and vibration of incoming bombs and artillery rounds also caused their radiotelegraph keys to chatter so uncontrollably that frontline troops could not communicate with the rear, compounding their confusion and helplessness. At 9:00 a.m., Soviet armor and infantry began to move out along the line while their cover fire continued. A dense morning fog near the river helped conceal their approach, bringing them in some sectors to within small-arms range before they were sighted by the enemy. The surprise and disarray on the Japanese side was so complete, and their communications so badly disrupted, that Japanese artillery did not begin firing in support of their frontline troops until about 10:15 a.m. By then, many forward positions were overrun. Japanese resistance stiffened at many points by midday, and fierce combat raged along the front, roughly 40 miles long. In the day's fighting, Colonel M. I. Potapov's southern force achieved the most striking success. The 8th MPR Cavalry Division routed the Manchukuoan cavalry holding Komatsubara's southern flank, and Potapov's armor and mechanized infantry bent the entire southern segment of the Japanese front inward by about 8 miles in a northwesterly direction. Zhukov's central force advanced only 500–1,500 yards in the face of furious resistance, but the frontal assault engaged the center of the Japanese line so heavily that Komatsubara could not reinforce his flanks. Two MPR cavalry regiments and supporting armor and mechanized infantry from Colonel Ilya Alekseenko's northern force easily overran two Manchukuoan cavalry units guarding the northern flank of the Japanese line, about 2 miles north of the Fui Heights. But the heights themselves formed a natural strong point, and Alekseenko's advance was halted at what became the northern anchor of the Japanese line. As the first phase of the Soviet offensive gathered momentum, General Ogisu, the 6th Army's new commander, assessed the situation. Still unaware of Zhukov's strength, he reassured KwAHQ that "the enemy intends to envelop us from our flanks, but his offensive effectiveness is weak… Our positions in other areas are being strengthened. Set your mind at ease." This optimistic report contributed to Kwantung Army's delay in reinforcing the 23rd Division. Some at KwAHQ suspected this might be another limited Soviet push, like Aug 7–8, that would soon end. Others worried it was a diversion prior to a larger offensive and were concerned but not alarmed about Komatsubara's position. On Aug 21–22, Potapov's southern force pierced the Japanese main defense line at several points, breaking the southern sector into segments that the attackers sealed off, encircled, and ground down. Soviet armor, mechanized infantry, and artillery moved swiftly and with deadly efficiency. Survivors described how each pocket of resistance experienced its own hellish period. After the Japanese heavy weapons in a pocket were neutralized, Soviet artillery and tanks gradually tightened the ring, firing at point-blank range over open sights. Flame-throwing tanks incinerated hastily constructed fortifications and underground shelters. Infantry mopped up with grenades, small arms, and bayonets. By the end of Aug 23, Potapov had dismembered the entire Japanese defensive position south of the Holsten River. Only one significant pocket of resistance remained. Meanwhile, Potapov's 8th Armored Brigade looped behind the Japanese, reaching southeast of Nomonhan, some 11 miles east of the river junction, on the boundary claimed by the MPR, and took up a blocking position there athwart the most likely line of retreat for Japanese units south of the Holsten. In those two days, the Japanese center yielded only a few yards, while the northern flank anchored at Fui Heights held firm. Air combat raged over the battlefield. Soviet air units provided tactical support for their armor and infantry, while Kwantung Army's 2nd Air Group strove to thwart that effort and hit the Soviet ground forces. Before Nomonhan, the Japanese air force had not faced a modern opponent. Japanese fliers had roamed largely unchallenged in Manchuria and China from 1931 to 1939. At Nomonhan, the Soviets enjoyed an advantage of roughly 2:1 in aircraft and pilots. This placed an increasingly heavy burden on Japanese air squadrons, which had to fly incessantly, often against heavy odds. Fatigue took its toll and losses mounted. Soviet and Japanese accounts give wildly different tallies of air victories and losses, but an official Japanese assessment after the battle stated, "Nomonhan brought out the bitter truths of the phenomenal rate at which war potential is sapped in the face of superior opposition." As with tank combat, the Soviet air superiority was qualitative as well as quantitative. In June–early July, the Soviet I-16 fighters did not fare well against the Japanese Type 97 fighter. However, in the lull before the August offensive, the Soviets introduced an improved I-16 with armor-plated fuselage and windshield, making it virtually impervious to the Type 97's light 7.7-mm guns. The Japanese countered by arming some planes with heavier 12.7-mm guns, which were somewhat more effective against the new I-16s. But the Soviet pilots discovered that the Type-97's unprotected fuel tank was an easy mark, and Japanese planes began to burn with horrendous regularity. On Aug 23, as Ribbentrop arrived in Moscow to seal the pact that would doom Poland and unleash war in Europe, the situation at Nomonhan was deemed serious enough by Kwantung Army to transfer the 7th Division to Hailar for support. Tsuji volunteered to fly to Nomonhan for a firsthand assessment. This move came too late, as Aug 23–24 proved the crucial phase of the battle. On Tue night, Aug 22, at Japanese 6th Army HQ, General Ogisu ordered a counterattack to push back the Soviet forces enveloping and crushing the Japanese southern flank. Komatsubara planned the counterattack in minute detail and entrusted its execution to his 71st and 72nd Regiments, led by General Kobayashi Koichi, and the 26th and 28th Regiments of the 7th Division, commanded by General Morita Norimasa. On paper this force looked like two infantry brigades. Only the 28th Regiment, however, was near full strength, though its troops were tired after marching about 25 miles to the front the day before. This regiment's peerless commander was Colonel Morita Toru (unrelated to General Morita). The chief kendo fencing master of the Imperial Army, Morita claimed to be invulnerable to bullets. The other three regiments were seriously understrength, partly due to combat attrition and partly because several of their battalions were deployed elsewhere on the front. The forces Kobayashi and Morita commanded that day totaled less than one regiment each. It was not until the night of Aug 23 that deployment and attack orders filtered down to the Japanese regiment, battalion, and company commanders. Due to insufficient truck transport and the trackless terrain, units were delayed reaching their assigned positions in the early morning of Aug 24, and some did not arrive at all. Two battalions of the 71st Regiment did not reach Kobayashi in time; his attack force that morning consisted of two battalions of the 72nd Regiment. Colonel Sumi's depleted 26th Regiment did not arrive in time, and General Morita's assault force consisted of two battalions of the 28th Regiment and a battalion-equivalent independent garrison unit newly arrived at the front. Because of these delays, the Japanese could not reconnoiter enemy positions adequately before the attack. What had been planned as a dawn assault would begin between 9:30 and 10:00 a.m. in broad daylight. The light plane carrying Tsuji on the final leg of his flight from Hsinking-Hailar-Nomonhan was attacked by Soviet fighters and forced to land behind the 72nd Regiment's staging area. Tsuji managed to reach General Kobayashi's command post by truck and on foot, placing him closer to the fighting than he anticipated. Just before the counterattack began, a dense fog drifted across part of the battlefield, obscuring visibility and limiting artillery effectiveness. Using the fog to mask their movement, lead elements of the 72nd Regiment moved toward a distant stand of scrub pines. As they approached, the trees began to move away—the stand was a well-camouflaged Soviet tank force. The tanks then maneuvered to the south, jeopardizing further Japanese advance. As the fog cleared, the Japanese found themselves facing a much larger enemy force. A vastly heavier Soviet barrage answered their renewed artillery fire. Kobayashi and Morita discovered too late that their counterattack had walked into the teeth of far stronger Soviet forces. One account calls it "The Charge of Two Light Brigades." Kobayashi's 72nd Regiment encountered the Soviet T-34, with its thick sloped armor and 76-mm gun—the most powerful tank in 1939. In addition, the improved Soviet BT-5/7 tanks, powered by diesel, were less prone to ignition. On gasoline-powered vehicles, the Soviets added wire netting over the ventilation grill and exhaust manifold, reducing the effectiveness of hand-thrown gasoline bombs. Japanese infantry regiments suffered near 50% casualties that day. Nearly every battalion and company commander was lost. Kobayashi was gravely wounded by a tank shell fragment and nearly trampled by fleeing troops. He survived the battle and the Pacific War but died in a Soviet POW camp in 1950. Morita's 28th Regiment fared little better. It was pinned down about 500 yards from the Soviet front lines by intense artillery. Unable to advance and not permitted to retreat, Morita's men dug into the loose sand and withstood the bombardment, but were cut to pieces. Shortly after sunset, the remnants were ordered to withdraw, but both regiments were shattered. Tsuji, a survivor, rejoined Komatsubara at his command post. Upon receiving combat reports from the 72nd and 28th Regiments, General Komatsubara "evinced deep anxiety." 6th Army chief of staff Major General Fujimoto Tetsukuma, at Komatsubara's command post, "appeared bewildered," and announced he was returning to headquarters, asking if Tsuji would accompany him. The major declined and later recalled that he and Komatsubara could barely conceal their astonishment at Fujimoto's abrupt departure at such a time. Meanwhile, at the northern end of the line, Colonel Alekseenko's force had been hammering at Fui Heights for 3 days without success. The position was held by about 800 defenders under Lieutenant Colonel Ioki Eiichiro, consisting of two infantry companies; one company each of cavalry, armored reconnaissance, and combat engineers; and three artillery batteries (37-mm and 75-mm guns). The defenders clung tenaciously to the strongpoint created by the heights and their bunkers, inflicting heavy losses on Alekseenko's force. The unexpectedly strong defense disrupted the timing of the entire Soviet offensive. By Aug 23, Zhukov was exasperated and losing patience with the pace in the north. Some…

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