Age of Conquest: A Kings and Generals Podcast

Last time we spoke about the battle of Nanchang. After securing Hainan and targeting Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway corridors, Japan's 11th Army, backed by armor, air power, and riverine operations, sought a rapid, surgical seizure of Nanchang to sever eastern Chinese logistics and coerce Chongqing. China, reorganizing under Chiang Kai-shek, concentrated over 200,000 troops across 52 divisions in the Ninth and Third War Zones, with Xue Yue commanding the 9th War Zone in defense of Wuhan-Nanchang corridors. The fighting began with German-style, combined-arms river operations along the Xiushui and Gan rivers, including feints, river crossings, and heavy artillery, sometimes using poison gas. From March 20–23, Japanese forces established a beachhead and advanced into Fengxin, Shengmi, and later Nanchang, despite stiff Chinese resistance and bridges being destroyed. Chiang's strategic shift toward attrition pushed for broader offensives to disrupt railways and rear areas, though Chinese plans for a counteroffensive repeatedly stalled due to logistics and coordination issues. By early May, Japanese forces encircled and captured Nanchang, albeit at heavy cost, with Chinese casualties surpassing 43,000 dead and Japanese losses over 2,200 dead.    #187 The Battle of Suixian–Zaoyang-Shatow 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. Having seized Wuhan in a brutal offensive the previous year, the Japanese sought not just to hold their ground but to solidify their grip on this vital hub. Wuhan, a bustling metropolis at the confluence of the Yangtze and Han Rivers, had become a linchpin in their strategy, a base from which they could project power across central China. Yet, the city was far from secure, Chinese troops in northern Hubei and southern Henan, perched above the mighty Yangtze, posed an unrelenting threat. To relieve the mounting pressure on their newfound stronghold, the Japanese high command orchestrated a bold offensive against the towns of Suixian and Zaoyang. They aimed to annihilate the main force of the Chinese 5th War Zone, a move that would crush the Nationalist resistance in the region and secure their flanks. This theater of war, freshly designated as the 5th War Zone after the grueling Battle of Wuhan, encompassed a vast expanse west of Shashi in the upper Yangtze basin. It stretched across northern Hubei, southern Henan, and the rugged Dabie Mountains in eastern Anhui, forming a strategic bulwark that guarded the eastern approaches to Sichuan, the very heartland of the Nationalist government's central institutions. Historian Rana Mitter in Forgotten Ally described this zone as "a gateway of immense importance, a natural fortress that could either serve as a launchpad for offensives against Japanese-held territories or a defensive redoubt protecting the rear areas of Sichuan and Shaanxi". The terrain itself was a defender's dream and an attacker's nightmare: to the east rose the imposing Dabie Mountains, their peaks cloaked in mist and folklore; the Tongbai Mountains sliced across the north like a jagged spine; the Jing Mountains guarded the west; the Yangtze River snaked southward, its waters a formidable barrier; the Dahong Mountains dominated the center, offering hidden valleys for ambushes; and the Han River (also known as the Xiang River) carved a north-south path through it all. Two critical transport arteries—the Hanyi Road linking Hankou to Yichang in Hubei, and the Xianghua Road connecting Xiangyang to Huayuan near Hankou—crisscrossed this landscape, integrating the war zone into a web of mobility. From here, Chinese forces could menace the vital Pinghan Railway, that iron lifeline running from Beiping (modern Beijing) to Hankou, while also threatening the Wuhan region itself. In retreat, it provided a sanctuary to shield the Nationalist heartlands. As military strategist Sun Tzu might have appreciated, this area had long been a magnet for generals, its contours shaping the fates of empires since ancient times. Despite the 5th War Zone's intricate troop deployments, marked by units of varying combat prowess and a glaring shortage of heavy weapons, the Chinese forces made masterful use of the terrain to harass their invaders. Drawing from accounts in Li Zongren's memoirs, he noted how these defenders, often outgunned but never outmaneuvered, turned hills into fortresses and rivers into moats. In early April 1939, as spring rains turned paths to mud, Chinese troops ramped up their disruptions along the southern stretches of the Pinghan Railway, striking from both eastern and western flanks with guerrilla precision. What truly rattled the Japanese garrison in Wuhan was the arrival of reinforcements: six full divisions redeployed to Zaoyang, bolstering the Chinese capacity to launch flanking assaults that could unravel Japanese supply lines. Alarmed by this buildup, the Japanese 11th Army, ensconced in the Wuhan area under the command of General Yasuji Okamura, a figure whose tactical acumen would later earn him notoriety in the Pacific War, devised a daring plan. They intended to plunge deep into the 5th War Zone, smashing the core of the Chinese forces and rendering them impotent, thereby neutralizing the northwestern threat to Wuhan once and for all. From April onward, the Japanese mobilized with meticulous preparation, amassing troops equipped with formidable artillery, rumbling tanks, and squadrons of aircraft that darkened the skies. Historians estimate they committed roughly three and a half divisions to this endeavor, as detailed in Edward J. Drea's In the Service of the Emperor: Essays on the Imperial Japanese Army. Employing a classic pincer movement, a two-flank encirclement coupled with a central breakthrough, they aimed for a swift, decisive strike to obliterate the main Chinese force in the narrow Suixian-Zaoyang corridor, squeezed between the Tongbai and Dahong Mountains. The offensive erupted in full fury on May 1, 1939, as Japanese columns surged forward like a tidal wave, their engines roaring and banners fluttering in the dust-choked air. General Li Zongren, the commander of the 5th War Zone, a man whose leadership had already shone in earlier campaigns like the defense of Tai'erzhuang in 1938, issued urgent orders to cease offensive actions against the Japanese and pivot to a defensive stance. Based on intelligence about the enemy's dispositions, Li orchestrated a comprehensive campaign structure, assigning precise defensive roles and battle plans to each unit. This was no haphazard scramble; it was a symphony of strategy, as Li himself recounted in his memoirs, emphasizing the need to exploit the terrain's natural advantages. While various Chinese war zones executed the "April Offensive" from late April to mid-May, actively harrying and containing Japanese forces, the 5th War Zone focused its energies on the southern segment of the Pinghan Railway, assaulting it from both sides in a bid to disrupt logistics. The main force of the 31st Army Group, under the command of Tang Enbo, a general known for his aggressive tactics and later criticized for corruption, shifted from elsewhere in Hubei to Zaoyang, fortifying the zone and posing a dire threat to the Japanese flanks and rear areas. To counter this peril and safeguard transportation along the Wuhan-Pinghan Railway, the Japanese, led by the formidable Okamura, unleashed their assault from the line stretching through Xinyang, Yingshan, and Zhongxiang. Mobilizing the 3rd, 13th, and 16th Divisions alongside the 2nd and 4th Cavalry Brigades, they charged toward the Suixian-Zaoyang region in western Hubei, intent on eradicating the Chinese main force and alleviating the siege-like pressure on Wuhan. In a masterful reorganization, Li Zongren divided his forces into two army groups, the left and right, plus a dedicated river defense army. His strategy was a blend of attrition and opportunism: harnessing the Tongbai and Dahong Mountains, clinging to key towns like lifelines, and grinding down the Japanese through prolonged warfare while biding time for a counterstroke. This approach echoed the Fabian tactics of ancient Rome, wearing the enemy thin before delivering the coup de grâce. The storm broke at dawn on May 1, when the main contingents of the Japanese 16th and 13th Divisions, bolstered by the 4th Cavalry Brigade from their bases in Zhongxiang and Jingshan, hurled themselves against the Chinese 37th and 180th Divisions of the Right Army Group. Supported by droning aircraft that strafed from above and tanks that churned the earth below, the Japanese advanced with mechanical precision. By May 4, they had shattered the defensive lines flanking Changshoudian, then surged along the east bank of the Xiang River toward Zaoyang in a massive offensive. Fierce combat raged through May 5, as described in Japanese war diaries compiled in Senshi Sōsho (the official Japanese war history series), where soldiers recounted the relentless Chinese resistance amid the smoke and clamor. The Japanese finally breached the defenses, turning their fury on the 122nd Division of the 41st Army. In a heroic stand, the 180th Division clung to Changshoudian, providing cover for the main force's ret