Chapter 311: Fundamental Divergence (1)
Volume 4: Peace and Development · Chapter 1
On January 15, the Imperial General Headquarters in Tokyo received two battle reports.
The Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army headquarters stated in their report that at 16:20 on January 15, the Japanese Navy's Special Naval Landing Forces landed in Pyongyang via small boats and raised the Rising Sun flag near the water gate.
The Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army headquarters stated in their report that at 16:00 on January 15, the Imperial Japanese Army entered Pyongyang while pursuing the retreating Northeast Army. As the Army was currently searching the city for Northeast Army remnants, they had not yet had time to raise the flag.
This was yet another petty display of the Army-Navy rivalry. The Imperial General Headquarters, well aware that they couldn't waste time on such trivialities, published neither report. Instead, the news focus for January 16 was placed on the upcoming meeting between the Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army headquarters and the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army headquarters in Pyongyang.
As the vehicle carrying the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army command arrived outside Pyongyang, Ishiwara Kanji observed the city through the car window—a city they had abandoned three months ago. A small number of local Korean elites loyal to Japan had organized a reception committee at the city gates with their followers. These people held banners and shouted slogans, making the entrance look somewhat lively. But once the car passed through the gates, the streets were deserted. There were no ordinary citizens to be seen. Squads of Japanese soldiers were setting up billets and stringing telegraph wires, filling Pyongyang with a grim, killing atmosphere.
In Ishiwara Kanji's memory, the Pyongyang of three months ago had at least been a vibrant city, with many panicked citizens on the streets. Now, Pyongyang was like a dead city. Ishiwara believed that any pro-Japanese forces in northern Korea had been completely swept away by the Northeast Army.
The car stopped in front of the Japanese Army's Pyongyang headquarters, where a group of reporters was already waiting outside the cordon. Lieutenant General Terauchi Hisaichi, Commander of the Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army, and his Chief of Staff, Major General Nagata Tetsuzan, came out to welcome them. After exchanging greetings, Lieutenant General Terauchi smiled and said, "Gentlemen, perhaps we should let the reporters take photos first, so the news can be sent back home as quickly as possible, assuring our citizens that our army has recovered Pyongyang."
No one objected, and the reporters hurriedly snapped photos. After a brief pause, the five commanders walked into the headquarters entrance. A reporter shouted excitedly from behind, "Commander, how is the pursuit progressing with the 700,000 troops?"
The five men ignored the question and went straight inside. Major General Okamura Yasuji, Chief of Operations for the Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army, along with other officers, was waiting inside. Seeing Lieutenant General Suzuki Kantarō and the others enter, they all bowed in greeting.
The Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army sat on the left, and the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army sat on the right of the long table. Lieutenant General Terauchi Hisaichi spoke first: "Your Excellency Suzuki, we are entirely relying on the Navy for logistical transport."
Ishiwara Kanji felt a pang of regret. As the reporter outside had asked, the total number of Japanese troops participating in the pursuit had indeed reached 700,000. However, the 500,000-strong Northeast Army was retreating in good order despite facing 700,000 pursuers. The Northeast Army had destroyed railways and roads; fully restoring the rail lines would take at least several months. With the Japanese Army now in full pursuit, logistical transport was extremely tight.
Vice Admiral Suzuki Kantarō replied politely, "I am a Navy man and do not understand land warfare. Now that the landing operation has concluded, I formally submitted a request to the Imperial General Headquarters yesterday to resign from my post as Commander of the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army, and recommended Vice Commander Lieutenant General Ugaki to succeed me. I expect there will be news very soon."
The Army generals felt greatly relieved, though Lieutenant General Terauchi expressed regret, as if he truly wished Vice Admiral Suzuki would continue to serve as the Second Expeditionary Army commander.
Vice Admiral Suzuki didn't mind at all. In matters concerning the fate of the Japanese Empire, the Navy naturally had to cooperate with the Army. If the landing operation had achieved all its strategic objectives and resulted in a total victory, Suzuki might have considered continuing as commander to garner more merit.
But resigning now, while the Army still faced bitter fighting, was what Suzuki considered a graceful exit.
Lieutenant General Ugaki Kazushige had already received hints from insiders at the Imperial General Headquarters and knew they had basically agreed to this arrangement. Since Vice Admiral Suzuki had mentioned it personally, there were no more concerns. Ugaki asked directly, "I wonder what plans the Manchuria-Mongolia Headquarters has for the subsequent campaign?"
Lieutenant General Terauchi immediately replied, "According to reconnaissance, the enemy has already constructed a second defensive line in Korea. We absolutely cannot give the enemy time to calmly organize their defense. We must pursue closely and crush them in one stroke."
Having said this, Terauchi felt some regret. It would have been better if the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army could have been disbanded and absorbed into his own command. However, judging by the current situation, Lieutenant General Ugaki had no such intention.
This wasn't hard to understand. Retaking Pyongyang was already a massive military achievement. Vice Admiral Suzuki's resignation meant he was destined for promotion to full Admiral. Consequently, Lieutenant General Ugaki's chances of being promoted to full General in the short term were slim—unless he could establish further merit in the upcoming battles. Only then could he be promoted to General alongside Terauchi Hisaichi.
Such calculations didn't mean there was internal conflict within the Army; in Ugaki's position, Terauchi felt he would have done the same. At this moment, Lieutenant General Terauchi only hoped to drive the Northeast Army out of Korea as quickly as possible. Although recovering Pyongyang was a great merit that could quell domestic dissatisfaction with the Army for a short time, the pressure on the Army remained immense. As long as the Northeast Army wasn't completely expelled from Korea, the Army's shame could not be fully washed away.
Of course, there were people in the world who acknowledged that the Japanese Army's performance had been excellent. For instance, in Seoul.
Major General James, head of the British Military Observation Mission, listened to the various noises of a city teeming with manpower outside his window, feeling slightly irritable. But this irritability didn't stop him from finishing the final part of his report.
"...The Japanese Army and Navy are now capable of executing large-scale formation warfare, and their strength is not far behind the first-rate European powers. This gap primarily stems from the disparity in industrial strength between Japan and Europe.
"As the opponent of the Japanese forces, the Northeast Army's performance in the war has been in no way inferior. In particular, their military operation of organizing a retreat of 500,000 troops over 400 miles (approximately 640 kilometers) demonstrated organizational capabilities that surpass even those of the Japanese Army.
"That the Northeast Government has built a command system capable of successfully directing the retreat of 500,000 modern troops within ten years is shocking and unsettling. Judging by the war situation so far, the Japanese Army has not found a means to defeat the Northeast Army. And it is likely that the Northeast Army does not yet possess the optimal means to fully utilize its own combat power.
"Even though the war has not yet ended, I still recommend trade controls on materials that aid the Northeast's war capabilities. Only in this way can the balance of power be maintained for a longer period..."
After finishing the report, Major General James felt he had finally completed a task, yet his mood didn't lighten. The military strength demonstrated in this Far East war completely exceeded imagination. Even if Britain were to dispatch an army of 500,000 to the Far East, they might not necessarily fight any better. Whether Britain admitted it or not, the Far East had completely broken away from Britain's direct control. Furthermore... for British military power to continue existing in the Far East, they would have to do their utmost to seek cooperation and compromise with the local powers.
This realization made Major General James extremely unhappy.
He wasn't the only one unhappy. In Tianjin, Mo Yang, the bureau chief of the *Northeast Daily* Tianjin station, was holding a press conference.
The reporters below the stage thought there would be big news and listened with bated breath. After ten seconds or so, they realized that *Northeast Daily* was simply reprinting news reiterating the Northeast Government's policy on donations and reminding the public that any individuals or organizations soliciting donations under the banner of the Northeast Government were scammers. This was an old tune, and the reminder brought knowing smiles to the reporters' faces.
When Mo Yang finished announcing the main content of the press conference, the reporters began to ask questions. They knew that a veteran journalist like Mo Yang certainly wouldn't divulge any military secrets—and indeed, Mo Yang himself probably didn't know the real military secrets. So they attacked from the flanks, trying to fish for information.
No matter how they asked, the answers were always the official line. Finally, a reporter with close ties to the Beiyang clique asked a direct question: "Director Mo, Japanese newspapers are saying that the Northeast Army has been beaten back by the Japanese Army for over a thousand *li*. How credible is this news?"
A sigh rippled through the reporters. This news wasn't a secret; it was public knowledge. But no other reporter had dared to ask so 'frankly'. Especially since, according to the battle reports previously released by the Northeast Army, they had indeed retreated over a thousand kilometers from the Pyongyang defense line. Even the reporters with the most confidence in the Northeast Army could only interpret this as 'gathering strength for a counterattack', but they couldn't possibly consider this retreat a victory.
The reporters quieted down instantly, everyone staring at Mo Yang to see if he would answer.
Mo Yang's expression remained unchanged, calm and composed. In truth, he was somewhat displeased, though not intensely so. He would have preferred to wait a while before addressing this, but since someone had asked so bluntly, he might as well answer now.
Composing himself, a professional smile appeared on Mo Yang's face. "Japanese newspapers are written for the Japanese. Asking us to verify the credibility of their news—you'd be better off asking the Japanese. After all, it's their newspapers writing it."
Hearing Mo Yang's lighthearted response, the reporters couldn't help but laugh.
The reporter who asked the question looked somewhat embarrassed. Being close to Beiyang, he naturally didn't care for the Northeast Government. His question had indeed been slightly ill-intentioned. Even so, the reporter wasn't a traitor—at least he didn't consider himself one. He certainly couldn't admit to agreeing with the Japanese reports.
Amidst the awkwardness, Mo Yang put away his smile. "I believe my colleagues have compared the reports from the Northeast Government and the Japanese Government. It's impossible for Japanese newspapers to contain not a single word of truth. By comparing both sides' reports, one can analyze a great deal. As for those analyses, that depends on your own perspectives, gentlemen."
Hearing this, the reporters requested again to hear Mo Yang's analysis of the war situation. But Mo Yang wasn't going to take the bait. Even if he emphasized that his analysis didn't represent the Northeast Army's operational intent, seeing the name "Mo Yang of *Northeast Daily*" would make people assume it had an official element.
Facing the eager reporters, Mo Yang replied politely, "Gentlemen, today's press conference ends here. Goodbye."
Mo Yang was afraid of his name appearing on war analyses, but some people weren't. Inside the headquarters at the Changjin Lake defense line, Xu Chengfeng, Cheng Ruofan, and Hu Xiushan even held a special meeting to decide what kind of situation analysis and action plan to submit to the General Command.
Cheng Ruofan took the initiative: "I suggest our troops launch an active offensive when the Japanese arrive at the defense line and their footing is unstable."
Xu Chengfeng and Hu Xiushan looked at Cheng Ruofan with bright eyes. Xu Chengfeng asked, "And then?"
Cheng Ruofan had already considered the entire campaign arrangement and answered immediately, "If the Japanese are repelled by us and our advance reaches 50 kilometers, we withdraw. If we encounter stubborn Japanese resistance within 50 kilometers, we also withdraw. Regardless of the scenario, we then retreat from the second defense line across the Yalu River, back into Northeast territory."
Hu Xiushan gave a rare, slight nod. Xu Chengfeng didn't question it but asked for the reasoning: "Why this arrangement?"
Facing Xu Chengfeng's query, Cheng Ruofan immediately gave his answer: "We must maintain the initiative in the campaign. The Japanese have proven with facts that they have the capability to sustain 700,000 troops in frontline combat in the short term. What our army needs most right now is time to digest and absorb everything learned from this campaign. Entangling with the Japanese at the Changjin Lake line carries the risk of heavy sacrifices if the Japanese attack with full force. To avoid such a passive situation, withdrawing to the Yalu River defense line is the best choice."
Xu Chengfeng continued to ask, "Is the report written?"
Cheng Ruofan shook his head. "I want to return to Shenyang personally to report to the Chairman."
"Haha!" Xu Chengfeng laughed. "I'm the commander; if anyone goes, it's me. Ruofan, you have too many insights in your heart and want to have a comprehensive exchange with the Chairman. So do I."
Seeing his thoughts exposed by Xu Chengfeng, Cheng Ruofan didn't back down. "I'm the Chief of Staff; I set the plan. Let me make the report."
Seeing Xu Chengfeng and Cheng Ruofan fighting over the matter, the usually taciturn Hu Xiushan spoke up. "Why not invite the Chairman to inspect the front lines?"
Xu Chengfeng and Cheng Ruofan both froze and looked at Hu Xiushan. They saw Hu Xiushan picking up his teacup and drinking slowly, as if he hadn't said anything just now. Xu Chengfeng and Cheng Ruofan looked at each other, walked to their respective field desks, and started writing reports at the same time.
He Rui agreed to Xu Chengfeng and Cheng Ruofan's plan but refused to inspect the front lines. It wasn't that He Rui didn't want to have a deep exchange with Xu Chengfeng and the others, but rather that he believed young soldiers needed practice to verify their gains.
The mere fact that the three of them could make the decision to withdraw to the Yalu River line based on 'maintaining initiative' proved that they no longer cared about the loss of a single city or territory. For a commander, this was a very important perspective.
In history, Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Western Chu, won every one of his seventy-plus battles, but one defeat at Gaixia cost him everything. Liu Bang, facing Xiang Yu, lost every battle, yet through a decisive engagement, he completely secured victory.
From a strategic perspective, Xiang Yu was already failing politically and strategically; he tried to reverse the disadvantages of strategic failure through tactical victories. Even though Xiang Yu's martial prowess was peerless and his tactical level extremely high, he ultimately suffered a crushing defeat and cut his throat at the Wu River.
He Rui firmly believed that the Northeast Government possessed political progressiveness, full economic vitality, and strategic initiative. Japan would only be continuously weakened. So even if Xu Chengfeng and the others returned directly to the Yalu River line now, He Rui wouldn't consider their choice problematic.
As for launching a counterattack, that was a tactical action. Strategy is victorious because it is correct; tactics are correct because they are victorious. He Rui felt the odds of winning this tactical counterattack were high, but that was all. As for what exactly would happen, He Rui wasn't a fortune teller who could predict the future with ironclad certainty, so he could only wait for the results.
But this was merely a tactical action; even if it failed, it wouldn't impact the strategic advantage. At this moment, He Rui preferred to let the young frontline commanders exercise their subjective initiative. To say something ominous: even if they were defeated, it would be a good experience for the troops' growth.
And He Rui had another matter to attend to at the moment. When the U.S. Ambassador visited, he had expressed a view on continuing to expand trade. Now, American merchants had arrived with letters of introduction from the U.S. Ambassador, and both sides were negotiating the purchase of American copper ore. Chilean copper mines were currently controlled by the British, and at this stage, they were not a reliable source of copper for the Northeast Army.
In comparison, American copper mines were a very stable source. Copper was not only a war material but also crucial for industrial production. So, he indeed had to stay in Shenyang to keep an eye on this matter.