Age of Conquest: A Kings and Generals Podcast

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

Last time we spoke about Operation Chahar. In July 1937, the tensions between Japan and China erupted into a full-scale conflict, ignited by the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. Following a series of aggressive Japanese military maneuvers, Chiang Kai-shek, then enjoying a brief respite at Kuling, learned of the escalating clashes and prepared for battle. Confident that China was primed for resistance, he rallied his nation, demanding that Japan accept responsibility and respect China’s sovereignty. The Japanese launched their offensive, rapidly capturing key positions in Northern China. Notably, fierce battle ensued in Jinghai, where Chinese soldiers, led by Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan, valiantly defended against overwhelming forces using guerrilla tactics and direct assaults. Their spirit was symbolized by a courageous “death squad” that charged the enemy, inflicting serious casualties despite facing dire odds. As weeks passed, the conflict intensified with brutal assaults on Nankou. Chinese defenses, though valiant, were ultimately overwhelmed, leading to heavy casualties on both sides. Despite losing Nankou, the indomitable Chinese spirit inspired continued resistance against the Japanese invaders, foreshadowing a long, brutal war that would reshape East Asia.   #156 The Battle of Shanghai Part 1: The Beginning of the Battle of Shanghai Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. On August 9, a bullet riddled sedan screeched to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the Hongqiao airport along Monument Road. The gruesome scene on the dashboard revealed that one of the victims had died in the car. He had been dragged out and subjected to brutal slashing, kicking, and beating until his body was a mangled mess. Half of his face was missing, and his stomach had been cut open, exposing the sickly pallor of his intestines, faintly glimmering in the night. The other man had managed to escape the vehicle but only got a few paces away before he was gunned down. A short distance away lay a third body, dressed in a Chinese uniform. Investigators swiftly identified the badly mangled body as belonging to 27-year-old Sub-Lieutenant Oyama Isao, while the other deceased Japanese man was his driver, First Class Seaman Saito Yozo. The identity of the Chinese victim remained a mystery. At first glance, the scene appeared to be the aftermath of a straightforward shootout. However, numerous questions lingered: What were the Japanese doing at a military airfield miles from their barracks? Who had fired the first shot, and what had prompted that decision? The Chinese investigators and their Japanese counterparts were at odds over the answers to these questions. As they walked the crime scene, searching for evidence, loud arguments erupted repeatedly. By the time the sun began to rise, they concluded their investigation without reaching any consensus on what had transpired. They climbed into their cars and made their way back to the city. The investigators were acutely aware of the repercussions if they failed to handle their delicate task with the necessary finesse. Despite their hopes for peace, it was evident that Shanghai was a city bracing for war. As they drove through the dimly lit suburbs on their way from Hongqiao back to their downtown offices, their headlights illuminated whitewashed trees, interspersed with sandbag defenses and the silhouettes of solitary Chinese sentries. Officially, these sentries were part of the Peace Preservation Corps,  a paramilitary unit that, due to an international agreement reached a few years earlier, was the only Chinese force allowed to remain in the Shanghai area. In the hours that followed, both sides presented their versions of the incident. According to the Chinese account, the Japanese vehicle attempted to force its way through the airport gate. When members of the Peace Preservation Corps stationed at the entrance signaled for Saito, the driver, to stop, he abruptly turned the car around. Sub-Lieutenant Oyama then fired at the Chinese guards with an automatic pistol. Only then did the Chinese return fire, killing Oyama in a hail of bullets. Saito managed to jump out before he, too, was gunned down. The commander of the Chinese guards told a Western reporter that this wasn’t the first time someone Japanese had attempted to enter the airport. Such incidents had occurred repeatedly in the past two months, leading them to believe that the Japanese were “obviously undertaking espionage.” The Japanese account, predictably, placed the blame for the entire incident squarely on China. It asserted that Oyama had been driving along a road bordering the airfield with no intention of entering. Suddenly, the vehicle was stopped and surrounded by Peace Preservation Corps troops, who opened fire with rifles and machine guns without warning. Oyama had no opportunity to return fire. The Japanese statement argued that the two men had every right to use the road, which was part of the International Settlement, and labeled the incident a clear violation of the 1932 peace agreement. “We demand that the Chinese bear responsibility for this illegal act,”. Regardless of either side, it seemed likely to everyone in the region, war would soon engulf Shanghai.  Meanwhile, as the Marco Polo Bridge Incident escalated into a full blown in the far north, General Zhang Fakui was attending a routine training mission at Mount Lu in southeastern Jiangxi. A short and small man, not considered too handsome either, Zhang had earned his place in China’s leadership through physical courage, once taking a stand on a bridge and single handedly facing down an enemy army. He was 41 years old in 1937, having spent half his life fighting Warlords, Communists and sometimes even Nationalists. In the recent years he had tossed his lot in with a rebel campaign against Chiang Kai-Shek, who surprisingly went on the forgive him and placed him in charge of anti communist operations in the area due south of Shanghai. However now the enemy seemed to have changed.  As the war spread to Beijing, on July 16th, Zhang was sent to Chiang Kai-Shek’s summer residence at Mount Lu alongside 150 members of China’s political and military elites. They were all there to brainstorm how to fight the Japanese. Years prior the Generalissimo had made it doctrine to appease the Japanese but now he made grandiose statements such as “this time we must fight to the end”. Afterwards Chiang dealt missions to all his commanders and Zhang Fakui was told to prepare for operations in the Shanghai area.  It had been apparent for weeks that both China and Japan were preparing for war in central China. The Japanese had been diverting naval troops from the north to strengthen their forces in Shanghai, and by early August, they had assembled over 8,000 troops. A few days later, approximately thirty-two naval vessels arrived. On July 31, Chiang declared that “all hope for peace has been lost.” Chiang had been reluctant to commit his best forces to defend northern China, an area he had never truly controlled. In contrast, Shanghai was central to his strategy for the war against Japan. Chiang decided to deploy his finest troops, the 87th and 88th Divisions, which were trained by generals under the guidance of the German advisor von Falkenhausen, who had high hopes for their performance against the Japanese. In doing so, Chiang aimed to demonstrate to both his own people and the wider world that the Chinese could and would resist the invader. Meanwhile, Chiang’s spy chief, Dai Li, was busy gathering intelligence on Japanese intentions regarding Shanghai, a challenging task given his focus in recent years. Dai, one of the most sinister figures in modern Chinese history, had devoted far more energy and resources to suppressing the Communists than to countering the Japanese. As a result, by the critical summer of 1937, he had built only a sparse network of agents in “Little Tokyo,” the Hongkou area of Shanghai dominated by Japanese businesses. One agent was a pawnshop owner, while the rest were double agents employed as local staff within the Japanese security apparatus. Unfortunately, they could provide little more than snippets, rumors, and hearsay. While some of this information sounded alarmingly dire, there was almost no actionable intelligence. Chiang did not take the decision to open a new front in Shanghai lightly. Built on both banks of the Huangpu River, the city served as the junction between the Pacific Ocean to the east and the great Yangtze River, which wound thousands of kilometers inland to the west. Shanghai embodied everything that represented modern China, from its industry and labor relations to its connections with the outside world. While foreign diplomatic presence was concentrated in nearby Nanjing, the capital, it was in Shanghai that the foreign community gauged the country’s mood. Foreigners in the city’s two “concession” areas nthe French Concession and the British-affiliated International Settlement often dismissed towns beyond Shanghai as mere “outstations.” Chiang Kai-shek would throw 650,000 troops into the battle for the city and its environs as well as his modest air force of 200 aircraft. Chiang, whose forces were being advised by German officers led by General Alexander von Falkenhausen, was finally confident that his forces could take on the Japanese. A German officer told a British diplomat, “If the Chinese Army follows the advice of the German advisers, it is capable of driving the Japanese over the Great Wall.”   While Chiang was groping in the dark, deprived of the eyes and ears of an efficient intelligence service, he did have at his disposal an army that was better prepared for battle than it had been in 1932. Stung by the experience of previous conflicts with the Japanese, Chiang had initiated a modernization program aimed at equipping the armed forces not only to suppress Communist rebels but also to confront a modern fighting force equipped with tanks, artillery, and aircraft. He had made progress, but it was insufficient. Serious weaknesses persisted, and now there was no time for any remedial action. While China appeared to be a formidable power in sheer numbers, the figures were misleading. On the eve of war, the Chinese military was comprised of a total of 176 divisions, which were theoretically organized into two brigades of two regiments each. However, only about 20 divisions maintained full peacetime strength of 10,000 soldiers and officers; the rest typically held around 5,000 men. Moreover, Chiang controlled only 31 divisions personally, and he could not count on the loyalty of the others. To successfully resist Japan, Chiang would need to rely not only on his military command skills but also on his ability to forge fragile coalitions among Warlord generals with strong local loyalties. Equipment posed another significant challenge. The modernization drive was not set to complete until late 1938, and the impact of this delay was evident. In every category of weaponry, from rifles to field artillery, the Chinese were outmatched by their Japanese adversaries, both quantitatively and qualitatively. Domestically manufactured artillery pieces had shorter ranges, and substandard steel-making technology caused gun barrels to overheat, increasing the risk of explosions. Some arms even dated back to imperial times. A large proportion of the Chinese infantry had received no proper training in basic tactics, let alone in coordinated operations involving armor and artillery. The chief of the German advisory corps was General Alexander von Falkenhausen, a figure hard to rival in terms of qualifications for the role. Although the 58-year-old’s narrow shoulders, curved back, and bald, vulture-like head gave him an unmilitary, almost avian appearance, his exterior belied a tough character. In 1918, he had earned his nation’s highest military honor, the Pour le Mérite, while assisting Germany’s Ottoman allies against the British in Palestine. Few, if any, German officers knew Asia as well as he did. His experience in the region dated back to the turn of the century. As a young lieutenant in the Third East Asian Infantry Regiment, he participated in the international coalition of colonial powers that quelled the Boxer Rebellion in 1900. A decade later, he traveled through Korea, Manchuria, and northern China with his wife, keenly observing and learning as a curious tourist. From 1912 to 1914, he served as the German Kaiser’s military attaché in Tokyo. He was poised to put his extensive knowledge to good use in the months ahead. Chiang believed that Shanghai should be the location of the first battle. This decision was heavily influenced by Falkenhausen and was strategically sound. Chiang Kai-shek could not hope to win a war against Japan unless he could unify the nation behind him, particularly the many fractious warlords who had battled his forces repeatedly over the past decade. Everyone understood that the territory Japan was demanding in the far north did not need to be held for any genuine military necessity; it was land that could be negotiated. The warlords occupying that territory were unpredictable and all too willing to engage in bargaining. In contrast, China’s economic heartland held different significance. By choosing to fight for the center of the country and deploying his strongest military units, Chiang Kai-shek signaled to both China’s warlords and potential foreign allies that he had a vested interest in the outcome.  There were also several operational reasons for preferring a conflict in the Yangtze River basin over a campaign in northern China. The rivers, lakes, and rice paddies of the Yangtze delta were much better suited for defensive warfare against Japan’s mechanized forces than the flat plains of North China. By forcing the Japanese to commit troops to central China, the Nationalists bought themselves the time needed to rally and reinforce their faltering defenses in the north. By initiating hostilities in the Shanghai area, Japan would be forced to divert its attention from the northern front, thereby stalling a potential Japanese advance toward the crucial city of Wuhan. It would also help safeguard potential supply routes from the Soviet Union, the most likely source of material assistance due to Moscow’s own animosity toward Japan. It was a clever plan, and surprisingly, the Japanese did not anticipate it. Intelligence officers in Tokyo were convinced that Chiang would send his troops northward instead. Again in late July, Chiang convened his commanders, and here he gave Zhang Fukai more detailed instructions for his operation. Fukai was placed in charge of the right wing of the army which was currently preparing for action in the metropolitan area. Fukai would oversee the forces east of the Huangpu River in the area known as Pudong. Pudong was full of warehouses, factories and rice fields, quite precarious to fight in. Meanwhile General Zhang Zhizhong, a quiet and sickly looking man who had previously led the Central Military Academy was to command the left wing of the Huangpu. All of the officers agreed the plan to force the battle to the Shanghai area was logical as the northern region near Beijing was far too open, giving the advantage to tank warfare, which they could not hope to contest Japan upon. The Shanghai area, full of rivers, creaks and urban environments favored them much more. Zhang Zhizhong seemed an ideal pick to lead troops in downtown Shanghai where most of the fighting would take place. His position of commandant of the military academy allowed him to establish connections with junior officers earmarked for rapid promotion. This meant that he personally knew the generals of both the 87th and 88th Divisions, which were to form the core of Zhang Zhizhong’s newly established 9th Army Group and become his primary assets in the early phases of the Shanghai campaign. Moreover, Zhang Zhizhong had the right aggressive instincts. He believed that China’s confrontation with Japan had evolved through three stages: in the first stage, the Japanese invaded the northeast in 1931, and China remained passive; in the second stage, during the first battle of Shanghai in 1932, Japan struck, but China fought back. Zhang argued that this would be the third stage, where Japan was preparing to attack, but China would strike first.   It seems that Zhang Zhizhong did not expect to survive this final showdown with his Japanese adversary. He took the fight very personally, even ordering his daughter to interrupt her education in England and return home to serve her country in the war. However, he was not the strong commander he appeared to be, as he was seriously ill. Although he never disclosed the true extent of his condition, it seemed he was on the verge of a physical and mental breakdown after years in high-stress positions. In fact, he had recently taken a leave of absence from his role at the military academy in the spring of 1937. When the war broke out, he was at a hospital in the northern port city of Qingdao, preparing to go abroad for convalescence. He canceled those plans to contribute to the struggle against Japan. When his daughter returned from England and saw him on the eve of battle, she was alarmed by how emaciated he had become. From the outset, doubts about his physical fitness to command loomed large. At 8:30 a.m. on Tuesday, August 10, a group of officers emerged from the Japanese Consulate along the banks of the Huangpu River. This team was a hastily assembled Sino-Japanese joint investigation unit tasked with quickly resolving the shooting incident at the Hongqiao Aerodrome of the previous night. They understood the urgency of reaching an agreement swiftly to prevent any escalation. As they drove to the airport, they passed armed guards of the Chinese Peace Preservation Corps stationed behind sandbag barricades that had been erected only hours earlier. Upon arriving at Hongqiao, the officers walked up and down the scene of the incident under the scorching sun, attempting to piece together a shared understanding of what had transpired. However, this proved to be nearly impossible, as the evidence failed to align into a coherent account acceptable to both parties. The Japanese were unconvinced that any shootout had occurred at all. Oyama, the officer who had been in the car, had left his pistol at the marine headquarters in Hongkou and had been unarmed the night before. They insisted that whoever shot and killed the man in the Chinese uniform could not have been him. By 6:00 pm the investigators returned to the city. Foreign correspondents, eager for information, knew exactly whom to approach. The newly appointed Shanghai Mayor, Yu Hongjun, with a quick wit and proficiency in English, Yu represented the city’s cosmopolitan image. However, that evening, he had little to offer the reporters, except for a plea directed at both the Japanese and Chinese factions “Both sides should maintain a calm demeanor to prevent the situation from escalating.” Mayor Yu however was, in fact, at the center of a complex act of deception that nearly succeeded. Nearly eight decades later, Zhang Fakui attributed the incident to members of the 88th Division, led by General Sun Yuanliang. “A small group of Sun Yuanliang's men disguised themselves as members of the Peace Preservation Corps,” Zhang Fakui recounted years later in his old age. “On August 9, 1937, they encountered two Japanese servicemen on the road near the Hongqiao military aerodrome and accused them of forcing their way into the area. A clash ensued, resulting in the deaths of the Japanese soldiers.” This created a delicate dilemma for their superiors. The two dead Japanese soldiers were difficult to explain away. Mayor Yu, likely informed of the predicament by military officials, conferred with Tong Yuanliang, chief of staff of the Songhu Garrison Command, a unit established after the fighting in 1932. Together, they devised a quick and cynical plan to portray the situation as one of self-defense by the Chinese guards. Under their orders, soldiers marched a Chinese death row inmate to the airport gate, dressed him in a paramilitary guard’s uniform, and executed him. While this desperate ruse might have worked initially, it quickly unraveled due to the discrepancies raised by the condition of the Chinese body. The Japanese did not believe the story, and the entire plan began to fall apart. Any remaining mutual trust swiftly evaporated. Instead of preventing a confrontation, the cover-up was accelerating the slide into war.  Late on August 10, Mayor Yu sent a secret cable to Nanjing, warning that the Japanese had ominously declared they would not allow the two deaths at the airport to go unpunished. The following day, the Japanese Consul General Okamoto Suemasa paid a visit to the mayor, demanding the complete withdrawal of the Peace Preservation Corps from the Shanghai area and the dismantling of all fortifications established by the corps. For the Chinese, acquiescing to these demands was nearly impossible. From their perspective, it appeared that the Japanese aimed to leave Shanghai defenseless while simultaneously bolstering their own military presence in the city. Twenty vessels, including cruisers and destroyers, sailed up the Huangpu River and docked at wharves near "Little Tokyo." Japanese marines in olive-green uniforms marched ashore down the gangplanks, while women from the local Japanese community, dressed in kimonos, greeted the troops with delighted smiles and bows to the flags of the Rising Sun that proudly adorned the sterns of the battleships. In fact, Japan had planned to deploy additional troops to Shanghai even before the shooting at Hongqiao Aerodrome. This decision was deemed necessary to reinforce the small contingent of 2,500 marines permanently stationed in the city. More troops were required to assist in protecting Japanese nationals who were being hastily evacuated from the larger cities along the Yangtze River. These actions were primarily defensive maneuvers, as the Japanese military seemed hesitant to open a second front in Shanghai, for the same reasons that the Chinese preferred an extension of hostilities to that area. Diverting Japanese troops from the strategically critical north and the Soviet threat across China’s border would weaken their position, especially given that urban warfare would diminish the advantages of their technological superiority in tanks and aircraft. While officers in the Japanese Navy believed it was becoming increasingly difficult to prevent the war from spreading to Shanghai, they were willing to give diplomacy one last chance. Conversely, the Japanese Army was eager to wage war in northern China but displayed little inclination to engage in hostilities in Shanghai. Should the situation worsen, the Army preferred to withdraw all Japanese nationals from the city. Ultimately, when it agreed to formulate plans for dispatching an expeditionary force to Shanghai, it did so reluctantly, primarily to avoid accusations of neglecting its responsibilities. Amongst many commanders longing for a swift confrontation with Japan was Zhang Zhizhong. By the end of July, he was growing increasingly impatient, waiting with his troops in the Suzhou area west of Shanghai and questioning whether a unique opportunity was being squandered. On July 30, he sent a telegram to Nanjing requesting permission to strike first. He argued that if Japan were allowed to launch an attack on Shanghai, he would waste valuable time moving his troops from their position more than 50 miles away. Nanjing responded with a promise that his wishes would be fulfilled but urged him to exercise patience: “We should indeed seize the initiative over the enemy, but we must wait until the right opportunity arises. Await further orders.” That opportunity arose on August 11, with the Japanese display of force on the Huangpu River and their public demand for the withdrawal of China’s paramilitary police. Japan had sufficiently revealed itself as the aggressor in the eyes of both domestic and international audiences, making it safe for China to take action. At 9:00 p.m. that evening, Zhang Zhizhong received orders from Nanjing to move his troops toward Shanghai. He acted with remarkable speed, capitalizing on the extensive transportation network in the region. The soldiers of the 87th Division quickly boarded 300 trucks that had been prepared in advance. Meanwhile, civilian passengers on trains were unceremoniously ordered off to make room for the 88th Division, which boarded the carriages heading for Shanghai. In total, over 20,000 motivated and well-equipped troops were on their way to battle.  On August 12, representatives from the United Kingdom, France, the United States, Italy, Japan, and China gathered for a joint conference in Shanghai to discuss ceasefire terms. Japan demanded the withdrawal of Chinese troops from Shanghai, while the Chinese representative, Yu Hung-chun, dismissed the Japanese demand, stating that the terms of the ceasefire had already been violated by Japan. The major powers were keen to avoid a repeat of the January 28 Incident, which had significantly disrupted foreign economic activities in Shanghai. Meanwhile, Chinese citizens fervently welcomed the presence of Chinese troops in the city. In Nanjing, Chinese and Japanese representatives convened for the last time in a final effort to negotiate. The Japanese insisted that all Peace Preservation Corps and regular troops be withdrawn from the vicinity of Shanghai. The Chinese, however, deemed the demand for a unilateral withdrawal unacceptable, given that the two nations were already engaged in conflict in North China. Ultimately, Mayor Yu made it clear that the most the Chinese government would concede was that Chinese troops would not fire unless fired upon. Conversely, Japan placed all responsibility on China, citing the deployment of Chinese troops around Shanghai as the cause of the escalating tensions. Negotiations proved impossible, leaving no alternative but for the war to spread into Central China. On that same morning of Thursday, August 12, residents near Shanghai’s North Train Station, also known as Zhabei Station, just a few blocks from "Little Tokyo," awoke to an unusual sight: thousands of soldiers dressed in the khaki uniforms of the Chinese Nationalists, wearing German-style helmets and carrying stick grenades slung across their chests. “Where do you come from?” the Shanghai citizens asked. “How did you get here so fast?” Zhang Zhizhong issued detailed orders to each unit under his command, instructing the 88th Division specifically to travel by train and deploy in a line from the town of Zhenru to Dachang village, both located a few miles west of Shanghai. Only later was the division supposed to advance toward a position stretching from the Zhabei district to the town of Jiangwan, placing it closer to the city boundaries. Zhang Zhizhong was the embodiment of belligerence, but he faced even more aggressive officers among his ranks. On the morning of August 12, he was approached by Liu Jingchi, the chief of operations at the Songhu Garrison Command. Liu argued that the battle of 1932 had gone poorly for the Chinese because they had hesitated and failed to strike first. This time, he insisted, should be different, and Zhang should order an all-out assault on the Japanese positions that very evening. Zhang countered that he had clear and unmistakable orders from Chiang Kai-shek to let the Japanese fire first, emphasizing the importance of maintaining China’s image on the world stage. “That’s easy,” Liu retorted. “Once all the units are deployed and ready to attack, we can just change some people into mufti and send them in to fire a few shots. We attack, and simultaneously, we report that the enemy’s offensive has begun.” Zhang Zhizhong did not like this idea. “We can’t go behind our leader’s back like that,” he replied. Zhang Zhizhong’s position was far from enviable. Forced to rein in eager and capable officers, he found himself acting against his own personal desires. Ultimately, he decided to seek the freedom to act as he saw fit. In a secret cable to Nanjing, he requested permission to launch an all-out attack on the Japanese positions in Shanghai the following day, Friday, August 13. He argued that this was a unique opportunity to capitalize on the momentum created by the movement of troops; any further delay would only lead to stagnation. He proposed a coordinated assault that would also involve the Chinese Air Force. However, the reply from Chiang Kai-shek was brief and unwavering: “Await further orders.” Even as Chiang’s troops poured into Shanghai, Chinese and Japanese officials continued their discussions. Ostensibly, this was in hopes of reaching a last-minute solution, but in reality, it was a performance. Both sides wanted to claim the moral high ground in a battle that now seemed inevitable. They understood that whoever openly declared an end to negotiations would automatically be perceived as the aggressor. During talks at the Shanghai Municipal Council, Japanese Consul General Okamoto argued that if China truly wanted peace, it would have withdrawn its troops to a position that would prevent clashes. Mayor Yu responded by highlighting the increasing presence of Japanese forces in the city. “Under such circumstances, China must adopt such measures as necessary for self-defense,” he stated. Late on August 13, 1937, Chiang Kai-shek instructed his forces to defend Shanghai, commanding them to "divert the enemy at sea, secure the coast, and resist landings."  I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals [http://www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals]. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. In July 1937, tensions between Japan and China escalated into war following the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. Confident in his country’s resolve, Chiang Kai-shek rallied the Chinese against Japanese aggression. On August 9, a deadly confrontation at Hongqiao Airport resulted in the deaths of Japanese soldiers, igniting further hostilities. As both sides blamed each other, the atmosphere became tense. Ultimately, negotiations failed, and the stage was set for a brutal conflict in Shanghai, marking the beginning of a long and devastating war.

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

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

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