Last time we spoke about the 800 heroes who defended the Sihang Warehouse. In the fall of Shanghai during October 1937, amidst overwhelming odds, a small battalion under Colonel Xie Jinyuan took a stand inside the Sihang Warehouse, transforming it into a fortress against the invading Japanese army. As word spread of their stand, local citizens rallied, providing vital supplies and cheers of encouragement from across the Suzhou Creek. The defenders, dubbed the "800 Heroes," symbolized hope and determination. Despite suffering heavy casualties, they held firm, embodying the spirit of resistance against aggression. As dawn broke on November 1, 1937, a strategic retreat was ordered, allowing Xie's remaining troops to escape safely into the International Settlement. Their legacy endured, highlighting the courage of those who fought against overwhelming odds. The saga of the "800 Heroes" became a beacon of hope for future generations, immortalizing their determination to protect their homeland during one of its darkest hours.

#162 The Battle of Shanghai #7: The Fall 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.

The fall of the Sihang Warehouse and withdrawal from Zhabei and Jiangwan doomed the Chinese defense of Shanghai. The army shifted to a fortified defensive line along the southern bank of Suzhou Creek, extending north towards the city of Nanxiang. Suzhou Creek provided an advantageous defensive position, acting as a natural barrier measuring up to 150 feet wide, with steep banks rising seven feet on either side. However, once this line was abandoned, there would be no fallback position remaining. Losing control of Suzhou Creek would be the loss of Shanghai. As German advisor Borchardt noted, “the Chinese command was therefore putting all its efforts into holding the position for as long as possible, without risking the annihilation of units crucial for continuing the war.”

The Japanese planned their main assault directly south across Suzhou Creek to encircle the troops stationed in Shanghai. However, they first needed to create sufficient space for maneuvering. To achieve this and to secure their right flank, they launched a significant attack on Nanxiang on October 28, advancing along the railway from Shanghai. With the benefit of extensive support from aircraft and artillery, the Japanese were able to breach the Chinese frontline with relative ease. Nevertheless, they failed to capture Nanxiang, and the outcome was less of a victory than it initially appeared, as the Chinese had established a robust defense, preparing a two-mile stretch of obstacles and barriers east of the city. In a subsequent advance that shifted to the south, the Japanese engaged in a brief battle before seizing the town of Zhenru, which was strategically important due to its radio station that facilitated much of Shanghai’s telephone and telegraphic communications with the outside world.

In preparation for crossing Suzhou Creek, the Japanese had spent several days assembling a small fleet of vessels commandeered from Shanghai's civilian population, which included motorboats, sampans, and basic bamboo barges. On October 31, the 3rd Japanese Infantry Division, positioned at the eastern end of the Suzhou Creek front, initiated several crossings. During one of these attacks in the late afternoon near the village of Zhoujiaqiao, Japanese soldiers managed to reach the southern bank but were immediately met with enfilading fire from Chinese machine guns, resulting in significant casualties. They also faced counterattacks from Chinese reserves, who had been quickly summoned to neutralize the threat. Despite these challenges, the Japanese were able to maintain a narrow foothold.

A parallel attempt by the same division further downstream, closer to the International Settlement, ended in failure, despite the evident superiority of Japanese equipment. Engineers deployed a mile-long smokescreen across the creek, while a dozen three-engine bombers, protected by fighter planes, hovered over the battlefield, actively scouting for targets. Although a small landing party successfully crossed the creek, they were quickly met with a fierce artillery barrage, and a Chinese counterattack forced them back into the water. Foreign military observers speculated that this operation was more a reconnaissance mission than a serious attempt to cross in that sector, as engaging in battle so close to the International Settlement would have required operations in heavily built-up areas.

On November 1, three battalions of the 9th Japanese Division attacked in small boats across Suzhou Creek at the point where the Chinese frontline bent northward, successfully establishing a bridgehead on the other side. Over the next two days, the division managed to deploy a substantial number of troops across, eventually controlling an area that stretched about half a mile along the south bank of the creek. The following day, the Chinese launched a determined effort to eliminate this growing threat. While they made significant gains, they ultimately failed to eradicate the Japanese landing party, partly due to their inability to fully utilize their considerable artillery resources. At the beginning of the day's battle, just 60 feet separated the trenches of the opposing forces, meaning any barrage aimed at the Japanese was equally likely to hit Chinese lines.

At dawn on November 3rd, the exhausted Tax Police Division were taking horrible losses trying to hold the Japanese back. Men began to scream “poison gas” as white clouds drifted across the Suzhou creek towards their trenches. Despite this the Japanese had not managed to carve out a bridgehead, but did built a pontoon bridge and sent a small force over to occupy a two story building near the bank, designated as “the red house”. Huang Jie, commander of the Tax Police Division, was a nervous wreck, feeling overwhelmed by fatalism after Chiang Kai-shek threatened to court-martial any officer who permitted the Japanese to cross to the southern bank of the creek. The appearance of an ominous cloud was the final straw. Although the cloud was later confirmed to be just a smoke screen and not poisonous gas, Huang was already defeated. With another Japanese assault imminent, he felt incapable of leading the defense. “It’s over. It’s all over,” he said matter-of-factly, raising his sidearm to his temple. Nearby, senior officer Sun Liren intervened, urging him, “General, please go back. We’ll take care of this.” The battle continued until 4:00 p.m., but the battalion that faced the brunt of the Japanese onslaught had disintegrated. Its commander was dead, along with all but one company commander and over half of the platoon leaders. Of the original 600 men, only 200 remained. This was not what the Tax Police Division had anticipated when they were pulled from the area south of Wusong Creek the previous month; they believed the strong defenses at Dachang could hold for at least a month or two, providing sufficient time for the exhausted troops in the rear to recover.

On the evening of November 3, following the latest Japanese attempt to cross the creek, the Tax Police Division’s commander ordered Sun Liren to rest. However, Sun felt the need to complete one last task: destroying the pontoon bridge the Japanese had constructed across Suzhou Creek, which remained largely intact despite repeated Chinese efforts to demolish it. Previous attempts, including frontal attacks and sending swimmers downstream with explosives, had failed. Finally, they prepared large rolls of cotton soaked in gasoline to roll downhill toward the bridge, but these efforts were halted by Japanese barbed wire. For his final attempt, Sun requisitioned sea mines to float them downstream and detonate them near the bridge. To ensure the success of this plan, he required the cooperation of engineers. Unfortunately, the engineers he ordered for the late-night mission had not been trained by him, and despite being of lower rank, they were disinclined to put in extra effort for an unfamiliar officer. They worked slowly, and by dawn, the mines had yet to be pushed into the water. In the early morning light, they became visible targets along the bank, attracting Japanese fire. Sun was hit, but he was among the fortunate; later, soldiers from the Tax Police Division found him beneath a pile of dead bodies, with doctors later discovering 13 bullet wounds in his body. His participation in the battle of Shanghai had come to an end.

According to German advisors, the Chinese repeatedly made the same mistake in the struggle for Suzhou Creek: a lack of independent thinking among junior Chinese commanders prevented them from reacting aggressively to Japanese crossings. This delay allowed the Japanese to entrench themselves, and subsequent Chinese counterattacks often succeeded only after several costly failures. Moreover, Chinese artillery lacked the flexibility to adapt quickly and lacked training in selecting the appropriate ordnance for the situation. The Germans argued that this allowed the enemy “sufficient time to set up a good defense,” and even when later Chinese attacks achieved some significant successes, they failed to completely annihilate the enemy forces that had crossed the creek. Conversely, the Japanese were also frustrated, particularly their commander, Matsui Iwane. Although the 9th Division had made significant advances, the 3rd Division remained confined to a narrow strip of land south of the creek, thwarting hopes for a quick, decisive push southeast to trap the remaining troops in Shanghai and Pudong. On November 3, the birthday of Emperor Meiji, who was instrumental in modernizing Japan, Matsui reflected on his initial hopes of celebrating as the conqueror of Shanghai. Instead, he found himself disappointed, writing, “Now we’ve finally won a small piece of land south of Suzhou Creek, but the south of Shanghai and all of Pudong remains in enemy hands. That the festival is happening under conditions such as these is a source of boundless humiliation.”

Japanese planners in Tokyo had been increasingly concerned that operations in the Shanghai area were not progressing as anticipated since the troop deployments began in August. Despite sending three additional divisions, the advances remained limited, prompting the Army General Staff to consider a more fundamental strategic shift in China. The core question revolved around whether to prioritize the northern campaign or the battles around Shanghai, as Japan lacked the resources to effectively pursue both. In early October, Japanese officers concluded that addressing the situation in Shanghai must take precedence. A large reason for this decision rested on fears of a potential soviet attack in the northeast before the New Year. With so many divisions stuck in Shanghai Manchukuo was quite vulnerable.

On October 9, the Army General Staff established the 10th Army, specifically designed to shift the balance in Shanghai. This new force included the 6th Infantry Division, currently deployed in northern China, a brigade from the 5th Infantry Division known as the Kunizaki Detachment, and the 18th and 114th Infantry Divisions from the home islands. Command of the 10th Army was entrusted to General Yanagawa Heisuke, a 58-year-old veteran of the Russo-Japanese War who had recently retired but was recalled to service due to his suitability for the role; he had previously served as a military attaché in Beijing and as an instructor at the city’s army college. The 10th Army was to be landed behind Chinese lines. There were two possible landing sites: the south bank of the Yangtze River, where earlier landings had occurred in late August, or the north bank of Hangzhou Bay. Hangzhou Bay provided the element of surprise thus it was selected. However when reconnaissance was performed, the area was found to be heavily fortified with many terrain issues that would complicate logistics. Matsui Iwane expressed his concerns in his diary, noting, “It would probably be much easier if they landed on the banks of the Huangpu and Yangtze Rivers. This plan gives me the impression of a bunch of young people at play”.

The 10th Army was set to land before dawn on November 5. The Kunizaki Detachment would lead the assault, capturing a stretch of coastline east of Jinshanwei in the middle of the night. This would be followed by the 6th Division, with the 18th Division on its right flank and the 114th Division on its left. All units were to advance briskly north to the Huangpu River and cross it. A major objective north of the river was the city of Songjiang, a key transportation hub for both rail and road. Ultimately, the goal was to link up with Japanese units advancing south in the flat countryside west of Shanghai to encircle as many Chinese soldiers as possible. Secrecy was vital for the 10th Army in its preparations. The commanders recalled an old saying: “If you want to cheat the enemy, first you must fool your own men,” and decided to adhere to it. To mislead their forces before the embarkation of the 6th Division, they distributed maps of Qingdao, a northern Chinese port city, to create the illusion that it was the operation's target. This way, if any information leaked, it would mislead the recipient. On November 1, the convoy carrying the 6th Division departed the waters off the Korean Peninsula, heading south. The following day, it merged with another convoy transporting the 18th and 114th Divisions from Japan. Together, they formed a substantial fleet of nearly 200 vessels, necessitating heightened caution to avoid detection. Strict orders prohibited the use of lights, and radio silence was enforced at all times. As the ships neared Shanghai, they sailed in a wide arc offshore, only redirecting toward land when they were aligned with Hangzhou Bay. Upon learning their true objective, the soldiers felt a mix of excitement and apprehension as they crowded the dark decks, catching sight of the vague silhouette of the continent they were about to conquer.

The advance unit, the Kunizaki Detachment, boarded its landing craft as planned at 3:00 am on November 5, heading towards its designated section of the coastline. Meanwhile, the rest of the 10th Army waited anxiously aboard ships anchored two miles offshore. The silence from the shore indicated that the detachment had encountered no resistance, although the ongoing radio silence left uncertainty. Eventually, the detachment signaled with light projectors that the landing had gone as planned. With this confirmation, the soldiers of the second wave began their approach. The 10th Army had intended for the invasion force to move swiftly from the landing zone to secure the area before the Chinese could mount a counterattack. Each soldier was equipped with a week’s supply of rice and as much ammunition as he could carry to avoid being hindered by a lengthy supply train; mobility was essential. On the first day of the landing, the Chinese launched only two minor counterattacks. One occurred on the left flank but failed to hinder the advance north, while the other on the right flank also had limited success, forcing the Chinese to retreat ahead of the advancing Japanese troops. By mid-morning on November 5, over 3,000 Japanese soldiers had successfully landed, and this number continued to rise rapidly. The urgency of the situation was evident, and only swift and decisive actions could offer the Chinese generals a chance to avert catastrophe. However, instead of mounting an all-out effort to push the Japanese back into the sea, they chose to play a waiting game. The consensus among the command center of the 3rd War Zone in Suzhou during the early hours was that the landing forces were weak and intended to distract from more critical operations planned for the near future.

Enemy resistance was weak and sporadic, allowing the Japanese divisions to make rapid progress despite encountering natural obstacles along their route. By the evening of November 5, less than 24 hours after the initial unit landed, they had advanced three miles inland. Before noon the following day, they reached a ferry port on the Huangpu River, where a group of over 100 soldiers managed to cross, clearing the way for the continued push toward Songjiang. Meanwhile, the left flank of the Japanese landing force engaged in more intense fighting for the first time but still managed to gain ground. The Japanese momentum appeared unstoppable.In desperation, the Chinese resorted to scorched earth tactics reminiscent of the Napoleonic Wars, similar to their earlier actions in Zhabei. They destroyed every building and field, burned crops, killed livestock, and poisoned wells, leaving nothing for the victors. It was the local population that ultimately paid the price, witnessing their ancestral homes reduced to ashes. 

Once the Chinese command was convinced that the invasion at Hangzhou Bay was a genuine main effort rather than a deceptive act, it directed all available forces south to contain the escalating threat. However, the Chinese had very few troops to spare. The Chinese dispatched a total of seven divisions and one independent brigade to the landing area. While this force appeared to be roughly twice the size of the Japanese, in reality, it was much weaker. Many of these units had endured extended battles and were not at full combat strength. They were sent south without adequate preparation, and their morale suffered due to the continuous stream of negative news from the front. Additionally, the same poor road network that hindered the Japanese slowed the Chinese reinforcements, resulting in many arriving too late to influence the conflict significantly. Once the opportunity to push the Japanese back into the sea was lost, the next best option was to halt their advance at the Huangpu River. Although this was a significant natural barrier, there were no fortifications prepared along its banks. Compounding the issue, a large number of civilian vessels were left on the south bank, providing the Japanese with an easy means of crossing. Confronted with a steady stream of better-equipped and experienced Japanese soldiers, many Chinese defenders occasionally retreated without a fight.

In response to the threat from the south, the Chinese commanders repeated a costly mistake from previous crises: they deployed newly arrived troops in Shanghai directly into battle. This disregard for the exhausted condition of those troops, who had just completed a long trek from Henan province, left them ill-prepared for effective engagement. The 107th and 108th Divisions, part of the 67th Army, had only recently arrived in the Shanghai area when they were ordered on November 8 to move south to defend the strategic city of Songjiang at least until November 11. Though the commanders may have had no other choice but to deploy the 67th, the outcome was predictable. Despite their efforts to hold Songjiang, the two divisions could not stand against the Japanese, and by November 9, they had begun withdrawing from the nearly surrounded city. During the retreat, army commander Wu Keren was assassinated by a group of plainclothes men. Whether these were Japanese soldiers or local traitors hired for the task was never determined, making him the only general to lose his life in the entire Shanghai campaign. This setback rendered the 67th Army ineffective as a fighting force, leading to a complete retreat from the battlefield. Like many other lower-quality units in the Chinese military, the rank-and-file soldiers had never been encouraged to take the initiative, and the corps ultimately disintegrated after losing their commander. Amid the chaos and confusion at the landing zone, many Chinese officers concluded that the battle for Shanghai was lost and focused on salvaging whatever equipment they could before it was too late. On the morning of November 5, three artillery batteries stationed along the north shore of Hangzhou Bay attempted to resist the Japanese forces. As the Chinese front along Hangzhou Bay collapsed, even a successful retreat could be seen as a modest victory.

Chiang Kai-shek was on the brink of a nervous breakdown as the full scale of the Japanese landing at Hangzhou Bay became evident. On the evening of November 5, he had over 20 anxious telephone conversations with Gu Zhutong, asking repeatedly, “Is there a fight?” Gu confirmed, “The artillery is bombarding us heavily. There are airplanes, warships.” That night, Chiang met with Chen Cheng and appeared to accept that it was time to abandon positions south of Suzhou Creek. However, political considerations prevented him from immediately communicating this decision to his commanders. He wished to see the Brussels Conference get underway without having China appear defeated and seemed to hope to hold out until November 13, aiming for a minor propaganda victory by demonstrating that China had endured for three months. On the night of November 8, Chiang issued a fateful command to Shanghai police chief Cai Jianjun, instructing him to hold Nanshi while the rest of the army withdrew west, a directive that sounded like a suicide mission. When Cai refused, Chiang’s response was swift: “Shoot him.” Luckily for Cai, he escaped being shot. 

The Chinese retreat from Shanghai commenced in an orderly manner. At 10:00 am on November 9, the last soldiers organized their march southwest past St. Ignatius Cathedral, where thousands of refugees waited, leaving the city they had defended for nearly three months. As they departed, they burned significant properties, including factories and coal yards, to deny the Japanese valuable resources. Among the structures targeted was the Toyoda Cotton Mills, a prominent symbol of Japan's influence in the Yangtze Delta. Initially, the withdrawal seemed disciplined, reminiscent of earlier successful withdrawals that had surprised the Japanese. However, the situation quickly deteriorated as the Japanese pursued them relentlessly. By noon, they had secured Hongqiao Airfield, the site of earlier conflict, and aimed to inflict maximum damage on the retreating Chinese army. Japanese planes launched attacks from carriers offshore, machine-gunning the congested roads filled with retreating soldiers. Additionally, they bombed bridges and train stations, destroyed communication lines, and shelled already weakened transportation networks. With communications largely disrupted and scattered units receiving no coordination, chaos ensued. Soldiers became consumed by the instinct for personal survival, leading to a disorganized stampede as panic spread.

Desperate to escape, many soldiers tried to access designated foreign zones. Some forced their way across checkpoints at gunpoint, while others disguised themselves as civilians to gain entry. A foreign correspondent observed a Chinese soldier throw away his rifle and jump into the polluted Siccawei Creek, wading across in just his underwear, to escape Japanese capture. Similarly, senior officers realized that rank would not protect them from Japanese retribution. General Ye Zhao, retreating with his staff, donned peasant clothes after encountering an abandoned farmhouse and was later captured by the advancing Japanese, who mistook him for a common laborer. As the Japanese approached Nanshi, the mostly Chinese area of Shanghai, the situation grew dire. A group of individuals accused of spying for the Japanese was executed by firing squad in public view, sparking terror among onlookers. As the government prepared to evacuate, officials urged the remaining residents to continue resisting, warning against traitors.  The swift retreat of the Chinese Army shocked many Shanghai residents, who had believed the city could withstand the siege indefinitely. As the city fell in just a few hectic days, thousands of desperate civilians, burdened with their belongings, flocked to the bridges leading to the French Concession, pleading to be let in. However, they were met with hostility from French police, reinforced with tanks, who ordered them to turn away. When they resisted, local Chinese employees were forced to help drive them back, resulting in horrific scenes of violence. The New York Times correspondent Hallet Abend reported how the crowd was ruthlessly beaten back, with some falling into Siccawei Creek, where several drowned amid the chaos.

Chinese resistance in Nanshi persisted, as pockets of soldiers were determined to make the conquest challenging for the Japanese. After three days of fighting, between 5,000 and 6,000 Chinese soldiers remained in Nanshi when the Japanese launched their final assault on the morning of November 11. They began a relentless artillery bombardment of the densely populated area. Foreign correspondents, including American journalist Edgar Snow, observed the battle from the French Concession across Siccawei Creek. Japanese tanks advanced cautiously through narrow streets, pausing to fire before retreating, while infantry moved carefully to avoid Chinese snipers hiding among the buildings. While most residents had fled, some civilians continued their daily lives amidst gunfire and explosions. An incident was reported where a group of Chinese were eating rice in a sampan when a machine gun opened fire, causing them to seek cover under the mat.

The Japanese forces encountered familiar challenges as they advanced through Nanshi, struggling to set up pontoon bridges across canals, which slowed their progress. In a last stand visible to onlookers in the French Concession, the Chinese soldiers faced an unequal confrontation. The Japanese tanks fired upon them from only 60 yards away, and the defenders were subjected to intense air raids before being driven back. At a desperate moment, one Chinese soldier carried a wounded comrade across Siccawei Creek, dodging bullets, and received assistance from French guards. This encouraged more Chinese soldiers to cross into the French sector, surrendering their weapons to avoid certain death. They became internees, protected from the Japanese, although they felt betrayed by the circumstances that forced such a decision.

Not all soldiers managed to escape in this manner; some relocated to a new position closer to the southern edge of the French Concession, near a water tower. This location offered even less protection than their previous one and quickly turned into a deadly encounter. Realizing they were losing, the Chinese troops fled toward the French sector, abandoning their equipment and weapons as they scrambled over barbed wire. The French commander commended their bravery and assured them they would not be returned to the Japanese. As the battle across Siccawei Creek drew to a close, victorious Japanese troops swept through the remaining unoccupied streets of Chinese Shanghai, eliminating the last pockets of resistance. Similar to previous encounters in Zhabei, defenders attempted to set fire to buildings to leave little for the occupying army. Thick smoke billowed over the district, limiting visibility, so onlookers in the French Concession relied on sound to gauge the battle's progress. As gunfire waned, cheers of “Banzai!” filled the air. At 3:34 pm, the Rising Sun flag was raised over the last Chinese stronghold in Nanshi, officially marking the end of the battle of Shanghai.

In a city ravaged by war, the district of Zhabei became the epicenter of destruction, resembling a bleak lunar landscape. The area around the North Train Station was devastated, with gutted buildings standing like rugged cliffs and the asphalt roads marred by deep fissures resembling earthquake damage. As Chinese officials prepared to leave Shanghai for Nanjing, they tried to present a positive narrative about the battle, emphasizing that the sacrifices made were not in vain. Mayor Yu proclaimed that the lessons learned in Shanghai during the past 90 days could benefit the entire nation in the war against Japanese aggression, instilling confidence in the people that victory would eventually come. He spoke as if the war was over in Shanghai, which was true in a sense, as the major conflict had concluded. 

In late 1937, the Japanese believed they had achieved victory. On December 3, Matsui Iwane's army held a victory parade through the unoccupied International Settlement, a right they claimed as one of the governing powers. It was a serious miscalculation. Japanese civilians and ronin were recruited to act as rallying crowds, waving national flags, which triggered confrontations with foreign residents. The parade passed the Great World Amusement Center, where hundreds had died during "Black Saturday," prompting a Chinese man to leap from a building, declaring “Long Live China!” as he fell. As the parade continued down Nanjing Road, tensions grew among the accompanying police. Suddenly, a grenade was thrown from a window, injuring four Japanese soldiers and one British police officer. Matsui’s veterans fanned out to apprehend the assailant, but it was a Chinese police officer who shot him dead. What was meant to be a triumph turned into a fiasco that confirmed the Japanese would struggle to secure even this small corner of China, let alone the vast territory of the country as a whole.

The battle for Shanghai became the bloodiest international conflict in Asia since the Russo-Japanese War. By late October, the Japanese estimated that China had suffered 250,000 military losses in the fight for the city. In the months following the battle, Chinese sources reported casualties ranging from 187,200 to as high as 300,000. Regardless of the exact figure, the aftermath of the battle was catastrophic, severely impacting Chiang Kai-shek’s best German-trained divisions. China faced a blow from which it would not recover until 1944, aided by significant American support.

The high casualty rates stemmed from several factors. Many Chinese soldiers entered the battle expecting to sacrifice their lives, which led to a higher incidence of fatality due to their willingness to launch suicidal attacks against heavily fortified positions. Chinese tactics, which relied on numerical superiority to counter Japan’s material advantages, essentially turned the conflict into a struggle of manpower against machinery. While this approach had a grim logic, it starkly contrasted with the reluctance of Chinese commanders to sacrifice valuable imported equipment. They were quick to expend their best divisions in intense fighting yet hesitated to utilize their key weaponry for fear of Japanese air raids. The elite 87th and 88th Divisions faced near depletion within days, while the Pudong artillery operated minimally over three months to avoid drawing enemy fire.

One might question what Chiang Kai-shek achieved from such immense sacrifices. If his primary goal was to divert Japanese forces from the north, where they enjoyed easy victories, then the battle in Shanghai could be viewed as a success for China. As autumn 1937 progressed, Japanese commanders were increasingly forced to redirect their focus and resources to the more complex and tactically challenging terrain around Shanghai, where their technical superiority was less effective than on the northern plains. However, shifting the war to central China also posed risks, threatening the economic hub and political capital in Nanjing, ultimately resulting in a Japanese occupation that would last nearly eight years.

If Chiang also wished to attract foreign attention, it is unclear how successful he was. The battle unfolded in front of thousands in the International Settlement and French Concession and garnered international media coverage, with many foreign correspondents arriving to report on the conflict. For three months, Shanghai dominated the front pages of major newspapers, and the Chinese effectively utilized propaganda to highlight events such as the desperate “Lost Battalions” fight in Zhabei. Yet, none of the major powers felt compelled to offer substantial support to China, and even the Brussels Conference failed to provide any useful assistance. Both Western powers and the Soviet Union were closely watching the conflict. Chiang hoped for Soviet support, and historical records suggest that Soviet diplomats encouraged him with vague assurances. China aimed to provoke Soviet entry into the war against Japan; however, the outcome may have been counterproductive. By engaging Japan, China effectively diminished the likelihood of a Japanese assault on the Soviet Union, as Japan needed to subdue China first. The Soviets eventually started providing material aid, including the arrival of nearly 300 Russian attack and bomber aircraft in mid-October, but this assistance was a poor substitute for a genuine ally. Additionally, while the Soviet Union emerged as a hesitant partner for China, China lost the substantial support it had previously received from Germany.

The Germans played a crucial role in Shanghai during the 1937 conflict, with every major Chinese unit having at least one German advisor. Chiang Kai-shek’s strategic decision to make a stand in Shanghai appears to have been significantly influenced by General Falkenhausen’s opinions. Chiang had initially welcomed the German proposal to fight for Shanghai and was resolved to see it through, regardless of the cost to his troops. By 1938, German advisors began departing China, coinciding with the outbreak of war in Europe. Unfortunately, their experiences in China did not translate into lessons for their future military engagements, particularly regarding urban warfare, which might have been beneficial in battles such as Stalingrad during the winter of 1942–1943. Instead, they returned to more conventional military roles in Europe. 

Despite enduring the most suffering in and around Shanghai during 1937, the battle proved to be far more costly for the Japanese than their commanders had anticipated. By November 8, Japanese military casualties totaled 9,115 dead and 31,257 injured. Although the Japanese forces enjoyed overwhelming advantages in artillery and air power, they could not compensate for their leaders' consistent underestimation of Chinese resilience and fighting spirit. The flow of reinforcements was disorganized, leading General Matsui and his commanders to feel they never had enough troops to achieve a swift and decisive victory. As the Shanghai battle neared its conclusion, Matsui became increasingly confident that he could inflict a blow on Chiang Kai-shek from which he would never recover. In an interview with a German reporter in late October, Matsui stated that after capturing Shanghai, the Japanese Army would march on to Nanjing if necessary. He had a keen political sense and believed it better to act independently than wait for orders from Tokyo, declaring, "Everything that is happening here is taking place under my entire responsibility." Without an aggressive general like Matsui, it's questionable whether the Japanese would have proceeded to Nanjing. Initially, they focused on pursuing retreating Chinese forces, a sound tactical decision that did not imply an expansive strategy to advance to Nanjing. However, after another surprise amphibious landing on November 13 on the south bank of the Yangtze River, the Japanese commanders felt positioned to push for Nanjing and bring the war to a conclusive end. 

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.

Thus with that the battle for Shanghai, known to some as China’s Stalingrad had come to a brutal end. Chiang Kai-Shek gambled the cream of his army to gain international sympathy for his nation, but had it worked? Japan was taking the northeast, and now with Shanghai conquered, the path to Nanjing and unimaginable horror remained.