This sarcastic message from KwAHQ made a deep impression at AGS, where it was felt that something had to be done to restore discipline and order. When General Nakajima informed the Throne about the air raid, the emperor rebuked the general and asked who would assume responsibility for the unauthorized attack. Nakajima replied that military operations were still under way, but that appropriate measures would be taken when this phase had ended. Inada sent Terada a telegram implying that the Kwantung Army staff officers responsible would be sacked in due course. Inada tried to have Tsuji ousted from Kwantung Army immediately, but personnel matters went through the Army Ministry, and General Itagaki, the army minister, knew Tsuji personally and defended him.28
The men in Tokyo realized that this was a tricky situation in which Kwantung Army’s position was not altogether groundless. Since 1932 that army had been operating under an Imperial Order to “defend Manchukuo.” This was a very broad mandate. Opinions differed in AGS about how best to limit or restrict Kwantung Army’s operational prerogatives. One idea was to secure Imperial sanction for a new directive limiting the scope of combat operations that Kwantung Army could undertake on its own initiative to no more than one regiment. There were other plans as well. In the meantime Kwantung Army had to be brought under tighter rein.
On June 29, AGS sent firm instructions to KwAHQ
Directives:
a) It is the responsibility of Kwantung Army to localize matters in the settlement of border disputes.
b) Areas in which the border is disputed, or in which defense is tactically unfeasible, need not be defended.
Orders:
c) Ground combat will be limited to the border region between Manchukuo and Outer Mongolia east of Lake Buir Nor.
d) Enemy bases will not be attacked from the air.29
With this heated exchange of messages, relations between Kwantung Army and AGS reached a critical stage. Tsuji called it the “breaking point” between Hsinking and Tokyo. According to Colonel Inada, after this “air raid squabble” gekokujo became much more pronounced in Hsinking, especially in Kwantung Army’s Operations Section, which “ceased making meaningful reports” to the AGS Operations Section, which he headed.30 At KwAHQ this controversy and the attendant perception of AGS “interference” in local affairs cemented the resolve of wavering staff officers concerning the necessity of moving decisively against the USSR. Thereafter, Kwantung Army officers as a group rejected the General Staff’s policy of moderation in the Nomonhan incident. Tsuji characterized the conflict between Kwantung Army and the General Staff as typical of the antagonism between combat officers and “desk jockeys.” In his view, AGS was advocating a policy of “not invading enemy territory even if one’s own territory was invaded,” while Kwantung Army’s policy was “not to allow invasion.” In explaining Kwantung Army’s (and his own) attitude toward the USSR in this border dispute, Tsuji cited the samurai warrior’s traditional warning when encroached upon: “Do not step any closer or I shall be forced to cut you down.”
Tsuji claimed that Kwantung Army had to act firmly at Nomonhan to avoid the necessity of a larger war later. Tsuji also stressed the importance felt by him and his colleagues of Kwantung Army’s maintaining its dignity, which was threatened by the actions both of the enemy and of the Army General Staff.31 In this emotionally charged atmosphere, Kwantung Army launched its July offensive.
Kwantung Army’s July Offensive
The success of the 2nd Air Group’s attack against the Tamsag Bulak air base added still further to the already excessive confidence at KwAHQ about their upcoming offensive. Although Japanese aerial reconnaissance intentionally had been limited so as not to alarm or forewarn the enemy, some reconnaissance missions were flown. The scout planes reported seeing numerous tank emplacements being prepared, although most spotted few tanks. The one report of large numbers of tanks was played down at headquarters. What attracted a great deal of attention at KwAHQ, however, were reports of large numbers of trucks leaving the front daily, streaming westward into the Mongolian interior. This was interpreted as evidence of a Soviet pullback from their forward positions. Perhaps the enemy had gotten wind of the imminent attack. Orders were issued to speed final preparations for the assault before all Soviet forces could be withdrawn from the area where the Japanese “meat cleaver” soon was to dismember them.32
What the Japanese scout planes actually had seen was not a truck-borne Soviet withdrawal, but part of a massive truck shuttle that General Grigori Shtern, now commander of Soviet Forces in the Far East, had organized in support of Zhukov. Each night, the roads from the distant MPR railway depots to Tamsag Bulak and the combat zone were jammed with Soviet trucks, their lights dimmed, carrying tons of supplies and reinforcements eastward. During the day, the trucks returned westward for fresh loads.33 It was these returning trucks, mostly empty, that the Japanese scout planes had sighted. The interpretation Kwantung Army put on this mass of west-bound Soviet traffic was a serious error, albeit an understandable one. But the Soviet side was also largely ignorant of the Japanese preparations, partly because the Japanese air raid of June 27 had thrown Soviet air operations, including reconnaissance, into disarray.
In late June the 23rd Division and Yasuoka’s tank force deployed from Hailar and Chiangchunmiao toward Nomonhan. All manner of military and civilian vehicles were pressed into service, but still there was not enough motorized transport to move all the troops and equipment at once. Most of the infantry marched 120 miles to the combat zone, under a hot sun, carrying eighty-pound packs. They arrived after four to six days of marching, tired and thirsty, with little time to recover before the scheduled assault.
With Komatsubara’s combined force of 15,000 men, 120 guns, and 70 tanks poised to attack, Kwantung Army estimated Soviet-MPR strength in the immediate vicinity of Nomonhan and the Halha River at about one thousand men, with perhaps ten antiaircraft guns, ten artillery pieces, and several dozen tanks. In fact, Japanese air activity, particularly the big raid of June 27, had put the Soviets on the alert. Zhukov suspected that a Japanese ground attack might be forthcoming, although nothing as audacious as a large-scale crossing of the Halha River was foreseen. During the night of July 1, Zhukov moved his 11th Tank Brigade, 7th Mechanized Brigade, and 24th Mechanized Infantry Regiment (36th Division) from their staging area near Tamsag Bulak to a position just west of the Halha River.34 Powerful forces were being marshaled by each side in ignorance of their enemy’s disposition.
At 4:00 a.m. on July 1, 15,000 heavily laden Japanese troops began marching eighteen to twenty miles to their final assembly and jump-off points. Just ten days after the summer solstice, the sun rose there at 4:00 a.m. and set at 9:00 p.m. Nevertheless, the Japanese advance went undetected by Soviet/MPR commanders, partly because the Japanese air raid of June 27 had temporarily swept Soviet reconnaissance planes from the skies.
Map 5. July 1–3 Japanese Offensive
On the night of July 1, as Soviet reinforcements were being brought up, Komatsubara began the first phase of his attack. His 23rd Division, together with the Yasuoka Detachment, converged on Fui Heights, just east of the Halha River, some eleven miles north of its confluence with the Holsten. The designation “heights” in this case is misleading. A Japanese infantry colonel described Fui as a “raised pancake” about one to one-and-a-half miles across, some thirty to forty feet higher than the surrounding terrain. For some still-unexplained reason, the small Soviet force that had been stationed on the heights was withdrawn during the day on July 1. That night, Fui Heights was occupied by Komatsubara’s forces almost without opposition.35 This caused no great stir at Zhukov’s headquarters. Komatsubara bided his time through the day on July 2.
On the night of July 2–3, the Japanese achieved a brilliant tactical success. A battalion of the 71st Infantry Regiment rowed silently across the Halha River on the moonless night and made an unopposed landing on the west bank opposite Fui Heights. Recent rains had swollen the river to 100–150 yards wide and ab
out six feet deep, too much for men, horses, or vehicles to ford. As planned, combat engineers worked swiftly through the night and spanned the river with a pontoon bridge, which connected a natural track on the right shore with a dirt road on the left. The bridge was completed by 6:30 a.m. July 3 and the main body of Komatsubara’s 71st and 72nd Infantry Regiments (23rd Division) and 26th Regiment (7th Division), began a slow and arduous crossing. The pontoon bridge was a flimsy affair less than eight feet wide, a natural bottleneck. Only one truck at a time could cross, and each one had to be guided carefully because of the narrowness of the span. Unfortunately for the attackers, the bridge could not bear the weight of armored vehicles, so they had to proceed without tank support. At least they were able to carry across their regimental artillery—dismantled and packed on horses, then reassembled on the west bank—consisting of eighteen 37-mm antitank guns, twelve 75-mm mountain guns, eight 75-mm field guns, and four 120-mm howitzers. The crossing took a full day. They were fortunate indeed to have been unmolested by the enemy.
The thrust across the Halha was commanded personally by General Komatsubara, who was accompanied by several Kwantung Army staff officers, including the deputy chief of staff, General Yano, and Colonel Hattori and Major Tsuji from the Operations Section. Still no Soviet/MPR scouts or reconnaissance planes had detected the crossing.
Even though the big Japanese air raid had put Zhukov on his guard, the initial Japanese moves of July 1–3 achieved complete tactical surprise and found the Soviet-MPR forces in a vulnerable position. This was due, in no small part, to the boldness of Tsuji’s operational plan. The first indication the Soviets had that a major Japanese offensive had begun came in the predawn hours of July 3, when General Yasuoka’s tanks attacked. Yasuoka thought he detected evidence of Soviet troops south of him attempting to retreat across the Halha River to the relative security of its west bank. Fearing that his prey might escape the trap before it was sprung, Yasuoka ordered his tanks to attack immediately. His infantry was not yet in position and so the tanks rumbled into the night without them—unheard of tactics for Japanese armor.
Conditions were ideal for a stealthy night attack: low clouds, no moon, visibility ten to twenty yards, temperature a comfortable 65 degrees. As the Japanese tanks approached the main Soviet defense line, lightning from a passing thunderstorm lit the sky. Yasuoka’s seventy tanks, their guns blazing, descended upon the startled men of the Soviet 149th Infantry Regiment. It was an awesome sight before which the stunned defenders scattered in disarray.36 The battle had begun.
When Zhukov got word of Yasuoka’s tank attack, he still was unaware that Komatsubara had crossed the Halha. Unsure of the situation or of Yasuoka’s strength or intentions, Zhukov ordered his 11th Tank Brigade, 7th Mechanized Brigade, 24th Mechanized Infantry Regiment, and elements of the 6th MPR Cavalry Division to advance northeastward and concentrate at a hill called Bain Tsagan. Bain Tsagan stood on the west bank of the Halha, roughly opposite the Fui Heights, the starting point of Yasuoka’s attack. It already was occupied by Komatsubara’s troops. In the faint early morning light of July 3, the lead elements of Komatsubara’s infantry began advancing southward from Bain Tsagan and ran directly into the vanguard of the 11th Tank Brigade, which was moving north to its assembly point. Both sides were surprised by this encounter. The Soviet armor immediately went over to the attack, but the tanks and armored cars were deployed awkwardly and were badly mauled. The Japanese 37-mm rapid-fire antitank guns, firing armor-piercing shells, were especially effective.
At last Zhukov realized that a large Japanese force had crossed the Halha and menaced his entire position. He hurled the remainder of the 11th Tank Brigade, 7th Brigade, 24th Regiment, and an armored battalion of the 8th Mongolian Cavalry Division against Komatsubara’s infantry in an attempt to hold them at Bain Tsagan and prevent them from capturing the Soviet bridge near the river junction. The main punch of the Soviet counterattack was delivered by the 150 tanks of Mikhail Yakovlev’s 11th Tank Brigade, plus some 154 armored cars mounting 45-mm guns. But they were supported by only 1,200 infantrymen. As each Soviet unit reached the combat zone, it was thrown into the attack directly off the march. The result was a series of uncoordinated assaults with which the Japanese could deal in succession. Because the Soviet armor had little infantry support, Japanese infantry literally swarmed over the Soviet vehicles, some of whose hatch lids were pried opened from the outside. Many tanks and armored cars were knocked out by primitive gasoline bombs and explosive charges carried by “human bullet” tank-killer teams, as well as by antitank guns. However, these repeated tank attacks threw the Japanese advance off balance.37
Generals Komatsubara and Yano and their staff narrowly escaped death around noon. The headquarters party pushed ahead a bit too rapidly. Suddenly, the troop truck accompanying Komatsubara’s black Buick sedan stopped and the soldiers jumped out. A squadron of Soviet light tanks was bearing down on them and opened fire at about three hundred yards. The two generals and their staff hit the dirt as enemy shells roared overhead. The headquarters escort had no antitank weapons. The officers piled into the Buick and raced off, with the Soviet tanks in pursuit. Luckily for the fleeing Japanese, their peril was spotted by a Japanese artillery officer. Captain Kusabe Sakae, commander of a battery of the obsolete Type 38 75-mm guns, observed some fifteen Soviet tanks closely pursuing the general’s sedan. At a range of seven hundred yards, Kusabe wondered if his guns would knock out the tanks or kill his general. Kusabe “closed his eyes” and gave the order to fire. The second round hit the lead tank, which burst into flames. The rest of the armored squadron abandoned the chase and turned to attack the artillery. Kusabe’s venerable old guns gave a good account of themselves, knocking out or driving off all the attacking vehicles.38
Japanese infantry and artillery west of the Halha, with some tactical air support, succeeded in beating off each successive attack and knocking out many Soviet tanks. The latter, whose poorly shielded gasoline engines were running hot under the blazing sun, were easily ignited by Japanese gunners and gasoline bombs. The Soviet tankers, who had never experienced this sort of combat, at first did not use their machine guns much, concentrating instead on firing their cannons against enemy heavy weapons. This facilitated the Japanese “human bullet” attacks.
However, although Komatsubara’s troops were inflicting heavy losses on Soviet armor, Japanese offensive momentum was checked. By the afternoon of July 3, the repeated Soviet counterattacks and increasing effective artillery fire forced the Japanese infantry to dig defensive positions in the loose sand west of the Halha, not far south of Bain Tsagan. Zhukov’s gamble with his armor had paid off.
The inability of the Japanese to transport their armored vehicles across the pontoon bridge proved crucial, for Zhukov had massed more than 450 tanks and armored cars in the area. Komatsubara’s infantry had no real chance of breaking through such a force, and as the day wore on, it was all they could do to keep from being overrun by the weight of the Soviet counterattacks. The temperature rose to well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit that afternoon, and the Japanese troops, who had not been able to refill their canteens since crossing the Halha, were thirsty and tired. With the offensive energy of his own force spent, Komatsubara’s best hope for salvaging the attack rode with the Yasuoka detachment. If General Yasuoka, moving south, parallel to Komatsubara’s force but on the eastern side of the Halha, could achieve a striking success, it would relieve the Soviet pressure on the 23rd Division commander. If Yasuoka with his two tank regiments could seize the Soviet bridge and link up with Komatsubara, the attack might yet succeed. The western bank of the Halha is somewhat higher than the eastern side and commands a fine view of the eastern bank and the arid plain sloping gently away to the east and south. From their position on the western bank, Komatsubara and his men could watch the progress of the Yasuoka detachment on the opposite side. It was not a heartening sight.
Yasuoka’s initial predawn tank attack pierced the lines of the Soviet 14
9th Infantry Regiment and 9th Mechanized Brigade. Japanese tanks literally overran a Soviet artillery unit that was unable to depress its guns to a low enough angle to engage the attackers. Japanese tanks shot up, and in some cases crushed, the enemy guns and scattered the defenders. But with daybreak, the Yasuoka detachment encountered increasingly determined resistance from Soviet infantry, tanks, and artillery. Japanese armor had performed well enough since 1937 against the Chinese, who had few tanks of their own and little effective antitank weaponry. But on this battlefield, the Japanese faced a more potent foe and their tanks suffered heavy losses.
Yasuoka’s advance was spearheaded by his two tank regiments, the mainstay of which was the Type 89 medium tank. The Type 89, designed primarily for an infantry support role, had relatively thin armor, 17-mm (about 2/3 inch), which was easily penetrated by Soviet antitank guns and the long-barreled, high-velocity 45-mm cannons of the Soviet BT-5/7 tanks and armored cars, whose armor-piercing shells were deadly at 1,500 yards and could score hits at 2,000 yards. The Type 89’s short-barreled, low-velocity (350 meters/second) 57-mm cannon, designed to attack pill boxes and concrete defenses with high-explosive shells, proved utterly ineffective against the Soviet tanks, which could engage the Japanese machines at long range with impunity.
Zhukov’s antitank defenses east of the Halha also employed an innovation the Japanese had never encountered: piano wire. The Soviets strung coils of almost invisible fine strands of steel as part of their defensive works. Imported from Japan and intended for pianos, the wire was thin, flat, and extremely strong. When coiled, it resembled the giant mainspring of a wristwatch. The wire was drawn into the gears and boggie wheels of tank tracks that tried to cross it. A few strands were often enough to ensnare a tank, as one survivor recalled, “like butterflies in a spider web.” Once enmeshed in the wire entanglements, the tanks were pounded by Soviet gunfire. Even immobilized, many of the Japanese tanks continued to fire their guns as long as they were able, which won the admiration of Japanese infantry. But soon, many were reduced to scorched wrecks.
Nomonhan, 1939: The Red Army's Victory That Shaped World War II Page 17
