Part 20 (1/2)

There was characteristic confusion at Girin airfield on the afternoon of 19 August. Russian troops landed in transport aircraft and deployed. In response to a summons from their commander, Major Belyaev, a j.a.panese delegation appeared wearing white armbands, unarmed save for swords. There was a parley. The Soviet officer wrote sourly later: ”The samurais were942 playing for time. Eventually one of their officers took from his pocket a white handkerchief, and waved it. j.a.panese machine guns immediately opened fire on us.” The Russians dived for cover, but four men were wounded, and Belyaev's face was cut open by fragments. He shouted at the j.a.panese officers to stop the shooting, but nothing happened. After a short, sharp firefight the Russians captured four officers and forty men, killing many others. ”To be honest, we were so angry that we weren't keen on taking prisoners,” said Belyaev. ”We'd agreed a ceasefire, and there they were, shooting at us!” The incident was more likely the product of contradictory sentiments in the j.a.panese ranks than of a ”samurai” ruse, but the Russians were disinclined to generosity. In subsequent skirmishes in the nearby town they found some j.a.panese troops struggling to escape in civilian clothes, others still offering resistance. By the morning of the twenty-first, however, most of the j.a.panese had surrendered. Belyaev's company was guarding 12,000 prisoners. He observed wryly that these seemed too fearful of falling into Chinese hands to attempt escape. playing for time. Eventually one of their officers took from his pocket a white handkerchief, and waved it. j.a.panese machine guns immediately opened fire on us.” The Russians dived for cover, but four men were wounded, and Belyaev's face was cut open by fragments. He shouted at the j.a.panese officers to stop the shooting, but nothing happened. After a short, sharp firefight the Russians captured four officers and forty men, killing many others. ”To be honest, we were so angry that we weren't keen on taking prisoners,” said Belyaev. ”We'd agreed a ceasefire, and there they were, shooting at us!” The incident was more likely the product of contradictory sentiments in the j.a.panese ranks than of a ”samurai” ruse, but the Russians were disinclined to generosity. In subsequent skirmishes in the nearby town they found some j.a.panese troops struggling to escape in civilian clothes, others still offering resistance. By the morning of the twenty-first, however, most of the j.a.panese had surrendered. Belyaev's company was guarding 12,000 prisoners. He observed wryly that these seemed too fearful of falling into Chinese hands to attempt escape.

Souhei Nakamura, son of a teacher of j.a.panese music who had lived in Manchuria since 1941, was inducted into the j.a.panese army only a week before the Russians attacked. On 12 August, every man of the five hundred at his depot, all either raw recruits or elderly reservists, was issued with a weapon and a stocking full of rice to tie on his pack, then crammed onto a train south, towards the front. During their march to the station, a j.a.panese bank manager astonished them by rus.h.i.+ng into the street with armfuls of paper money. He broadcast banknotes among the soldiers as they pa.s.sed, rather than leave them for the Russians.

After days of faltering progress, the recruits disembarked at a halt where they were supposed to join a regiment. They found the place already abandoned by the retreating army, the rail bridge ahead cut by Russian bombing. They had no officers, and milled about uncertainly for hours before glimpsing two figures walking down the track carrying white flags. At first these looked like children. As they came closer, however, the j.a.panese perceived that they were Russian soldiers, who told them the war was over. Without much concern, indeed with relief, the young recruits surrendered their weapons. Some emotional older men drove their swords into the earth and bent them until they broke, rather than present them to the Soviets. Then they lingered, expecting a train to take them to Korea, and thence home to j.a.pan. ”I was nineteen943,” said Nakamura. ”The whole thing of defeat didn't mean much to me. I just felt grateful that because there were five hundred of us all together there, it seemed unlikely the Russians would shoot us.”

There was no train to Korea; instead a long, gruelling march under Russian guard. Exhausted soldiers began to throw away packs, personal effects, even boots. It was a time of rains, and they were often trudging through thick mud. They pa.s.sed a village of j.a.panese immigrants, where they saw an elderly grandmother beseeching impa.s.sive local Chinese to relieve her of a baby which she clutched. A gaggle of j.a.panese orphans killed a bullock, and distributed slabs of its raw meat to the thankful men. Nakamura noticed that no young women were visible, and guessed that they had been carried off by the Russians. After a few hours, the prisoners were herded on down the road. ”I always wondered afterwards what happened to those kids, and all those immigrants.” The likely answer was that they starved.

Russian brutality towards their prisoners was cultural rather than personal. Few Red Army men harboured much animus towards the j.a.panese, only puzzlement about people beyond their experience in appearance and character. ”We felt nothing944 like the hatred we held towards the Germans,” said Sgt. Anatoly Fillipov. In Manchuria's ”liberated” towns and cities, the victors revelled in rickshaw rides and brothels. Lieutenant Chervyakov acquired a kimono for his mother, as did Boris Ratner on Sakhalin. The pilot was bewildered to see a column of j.a.panese prisoners struggling past, the men enc.u.mbered with packs, their officers even in captivity using soldiers to lug their baggage. As Ratner watched, one j.a.panese fell down and died. A j.a.panese prisoner who spoke a little Russian said bitterly to Anatoly Fillipov: ”Well, you've got your prize, but it is an unlawful one. Stalin deceived us. He always promised that he would not attack us.” Thousands of j.a.panese soldiers and civilians in Manchuria killed themselves. like the hatred we held towards the Germans,” said Sgt. Anatoly Fillipov. In Manchuria's ”liberated” towns and cities, the victors revelled in rickshaw rides and brothels. Lieutenant Chervyakov acquired a kimono for his mother, as did Boris Ratner on Sakhalin. The pilot was bewildered to see a column of j.a.panese prisoners struggling past, the men enc.u.mbered with packs, their officers even in captivity using soldiers to lug their baggage. As Ratner watched, one j.a.panese fell down and died. A j.a.panese prisoner who spoke a little Russian said bitterly to Anatoly Fillipov: ”Well, you've got your prize, but it is an unlawful one. Stalin deceived us. He always promised that he would not attack us.” Thousands of j.a.panese soldiers and civilians in Manchuria killed themselves.

For Manchurian women, rejoicing at the defeat of the j.a.panese soon gave way to horror at the conduct of the Russians, as they found themselves facing wholesale rape: ”We didn't like them at all,” said Liu Yunxiu, who was twenty-one and living in Changchun. ”They stole food, they raped women in the streets. Every woman tried to make herself look as ugly as she could, to escape their attentions. My parents hid me for weeks, in which I was never allowed out of the house.” Some Soviet soldiers afterwards claimed that their army's excesses were chiefly committed by veterans of Rokossovsky's front, notorious for its conduct in Europe. ”They did not behave very well,” said Sgt. Anatoly Fillipov. ”They were always showing off, saying 'We're Rokossovsky's boys!'” Souhei Nakamura's thirty-one-year-old aunt, a married woman, offered herself to the conquerors in the absurd hope, she claimed, of sparing some virgin from rape. Her reward was syphilis, which she sought to conceal from her husband when he eventually returned from Soviet captivity, and thus infected him. Communist guerrilla Zuo Yong was among those appalled by the behaviour of the Red Army: ”The Russians were our allies945-we were all in the same boat. We thought of their soldiers as our brothers. The problem, however, as we discovered, was they had no respect for our people. Their behaviour in Manchuria was appalling.” Jiang De, another guerrilla, shrugged: ”The Russians simply behaved946 in the same way they did everywhere else.” in the same way they did everywhere else.”

EVEN AS S SOVIET armies completed the occupation of Manchuria after the j.a.panese surrender, amphibious units were a.s.saulting the Pacific islands promised to Stalin at Yalta. Eight thousand men were dispatched across five hundred miles of sea to the Kuriles, a chain of some fifty islands situated north-east of j.a.pan. The northern Kuriles were defended by 25,000 imperial troops, of which 8,480 were deployed on the northernmost, Shanns.h.i.+r, eighteen miles in length by six wide. Their morale was not high. This was, by common consent, one of the most G.o.dforsaken postings in the j.a.panese empire. armies completed the occupation of Manchuria after the j.a.panese surrender, amphibious units were a.s.saulting the Pacific islands promised to Stalin at Yalta. Eight thousand men were dispatched across five hundred miles of sea to the Kuriles, a chain of some fifty islands situated north-east of j.a.pan. The northern Kuriles were defended by 25,000 imperial troops, of which 8,480 were deployed on the northernmost, Shanns.h.i.+r, eighteen miles in length by six wide. Their morale was not high. This was, by common consent, one of the most G.o.dforsaken postings in the j.a.panese empire.

On the night of 14 August, Shanns.h.i.+r's senior officer, Maj.-Gen. Fusaka Tsutsumi, was alerted by 5th Area Army to listen with his most senior staff to the emperor's broadcast next day. Having done so, Tsutsumi awaited the arrival of an American occupation force, whom he had no intention of fighting. Instead, however, at 0422 on 18 August, without warning or parley a Russian division a.s.saulted Shanns.h.i.+r-and met resistance. For all the Red Army's experience of continental warfare, it knew pitifully little about the difficulties of opposed landings from the sea. From the outset, the Shanns.h.i.+r operation was a shambles, perfunctorily planned and chaotically executed. The landing force was drawn from garrison troops without combat experience.

At 0530 j.a.panese sh.o.r.e batteries began to hit Soviet s.h.i.+ps as they approached. Some a.s.sault craft were sunk, others set on fire. Those who abandoned foundering boats found themselves swept away by the currents. The invaders' communications collapsed, as radios were lost or immersed when their operators struggled ash.o.r.e. Sailors laboured under j.a.panese fire to improvise rafts to land guns and tanks-the Russians possessed none of the Western Allies' inventory of specialised amphibious equipment. A counter-attack by twenty j.a.panese tanks gained some ground. What was almost certainly the last kamikaze air attack of the war hit a destroyer escort. Early on the morning of the nineteenth, the Soviet commander on Shanns.h.i.+r received orders to hasten the island's capture. Soon afterwards, a j.a.panese delegation arrived at Russian headquarters to arrange a surrender. Yet next morning, some coastal batteries still fired on Soviet s.h.i.+ps in the Second Kuril Strait, and were heavily bombed for their pains. Tsutsumi's men finally quit on the night of 21 August, having lost 614 dead.

SAKHALIN REPRESENTED a less serious challenge, for its nearest point lay only six miles off the Asian coast, and its northern part was Soviet territory. But the island was vastly bigger-560 miles long and between 19 and 62 miles wide. j.a.pan had held the southern half since 1905, a source of bitter Russian resentment, now to be a.s.suaged. Sakhalin's terrain was inhospitable-swamp-ridden, mountainous, densely forested. For reasons of prestige, the j.a.panese had lavished precious resources on fortifying the place. The consequence was that when Soviet troops began an a.s.sault on 11 August, their advance made little headway. Only after bitter fighting did they capture the key Honda strongpoint, whose defenders fought to the last man. The weather was poor for air support, and many tanks became bogged. Russian infantry were obliged to struggle through on foot, to outflank j.a.panese positions. Early on 16 August, however, after the imperial broadcast the j.a.panese obligingly launched ”human wave” counter-attacks, which enabled the Russians to inflict much slaughter. Next day, yard by yard, Soviet troops forced pa.s.sages through the forests, battering the defenders with air attacks and artillery. On the evening of 17 August, the local j.a.panese commander in the frontier defensive zone surrendered. a less serious challenge, for its nearest point lay only six miles off the Asian coast, and its northern part was Soviet territory. But the island was vastly bigger-560 miles long and between 19 and 62 miles wide. j.a.pan had held the southern half since 1905, a source of bitter Russian resentment, now to be a.s.suaged. Sakhalin's terrain was inhospitable-swamp-ridden, mountainous, densely forested. For reasons of prestige, the j.a.panese had lavished precious resources on fortifying the place. The consequence was that when Soviet troops began an a.s.sault on 11 August, their advance made little headway. Only after bitter fighting did they capture the key Honda strongpoint, whose defenders fought to the last man. The weather was poor for air support, and many tanks became bogged. Russian infantry were obliged to struggle through on foot, to outflank j.a.panese positions. Early on 16 August, however, after the imperial broadcast the j.a.panese obligingly launched ”human wave” counter-attacks, which enabled the Russians to inflict much slaughter. Next day, yard by yard, Soviet troops forced pa.s.sages through the forests, battering the defenders with air attacks and artillery. On the evening of 17 August, the local j.a.panese commander in the frontier defensive zone surrendered.

Elsewhere on Sakhalin, however, garrisons continued to resist. When the Soviets' Northern Pacific Flotilla landed a storming force at the port of Maoka on 20 August, they mowed down civilians at the sh.o.r.eside. j.a.panese troops opened fire. Thick fog hampered gunfire observation. Defenders had to be painstakingly cleared from the quays and then the city centre. ”j.a.panese propaganda had successfully imbued947 the city's inhabitants with fears of 'Russian brutality,'” declared a Soviet account disingenuously. ”The result was that much of the population fled into the forests, and some people were evacuated to Hokkaido. Women were especially influenced by propaganda, which convinced them that the arriving Russian troops would shoot them and strangle their children.” The Soviets claimed to have killed three hundred j.a.panese in Maoka and taken a further six hundred prisoners. The rest of the garrison fled inland. Sakhalin was finally secured on 26 August, four days behind the Soviet schedule. the city's inhabitants with fears of 'Russian brutality,'” declared a Soviet account disingenuously. ”The result was that much of the population fled into the forests, and some people were evacuated to Hokkaido. Women were especially influenced by propaganda, which convinced them that the arriving Russian troops would shoot them and strangle their children.” The Soviets claimed to have killed three hundred j.a.panese in Maoka and taken a further six hundred prisoners. The rest of the garrison fled inland. Sakhalin was finally secured on 26 August, four days behind the Soviet schedule.

Stalin harboured more far-reaching designs on j.a.panese territory. Before the Manchurian a.s.sault was launched, Soviet troops were earmarked to land on the j.a.panese home island of Hokkaido, and to occupy its northern half as soon as north Korea was secure. On the evening of 18 August, Vasilevsky signalled the Stavka in Moscow, asking permission to proceed with a Hokkaido attack scheduled to last from 19 August to 1 September. For forty-eight hours Moscow was silent, brooding. On 20 August Vasilevsky signalled again, asking for orders. Continue preparations, said Stalin: the a.s.sault force should be ready to attack by midnight on 23 August.

Meanwhile the Americans also dallied with possible landings in the Kuriles and at the mainland port of Dalian, to secure bases-in breach of the Yalta agreement-before the Soviets could reach them. Both sides, however, finally backed off. Was.h.i.+ngton recognised that any attempt to pre-empt the Soviets from occupying their agreed territories would precipitate a crisis. Likewise Truman cabled Moscow, summarily rejecting Stalin's proposal that the Russians should receive the surrender of j.a.panese forces on north Hokkaido. At midday on the twenty-second the Stavka dispatched new orders to Far East Command, cancelling the Hokkaido landings. The Americans confined themselves to hastening U.S. Marines to key points on and near the coast of mainland China, to hold these until Chiang Kai-shek's forces could a.s.sume control. A huge American commitment of men and transport aircraft alone enabled the Nationalists to reestablish themselves in the east during the autumn of 1945.

THE LAST BATTLE of the Second World War was fought at a place few Westerners have ever heard of. Hutou means ”tiger's head.” In 1945 there were still some tigers in the Wanda Mountains, where the town stands beside the great Ussuri River, eastern frontier of Manchuria. On the Russian sh.o.r.e, forests stretch for miles across flat country. On the Manchurian side, however, steep bluffs rise from the swamps and railway yard at the waterside. Here, beginning in 1933, the Guandong Army created the most elaborate defensive system in Asia: its commanders were rash enough to call it their ”Maginot Line.” Hutou was centred upon five forts built on neighbouring hills which rise up to four hundred feet above the riverbank. The concrete roofs and walls were nine feet thick, with generators, storerooms and living quarters sunk deep underground, linked by tunnels. The whole system was almost five miles wide and four deep, supported by some of the heaviest artillery in Asia, including 240mm Krupp guns and a 410mm howitzer. The Chinese a.s.sert that the 30,000 slave labourers who built the fortress were killed when their work was complete, and indeed many bodies were exhumed after 1945. of the Second World War was fought at a place few Westerners have ever heard of. Hutou means ”tiger's head.” In 1945 there were still some tigers in the Wanda Mountains, where the town stands beside the great Ussuri River, eastern frontier of Manchuria. On the Russian sh.o.r.e, forests stretch for miles across flat country. On the Manchurian side, however, steep bluffs rise from the swamps and railway yard at the waterside. Here, beginning in 1933, the Guandong Army created the most elaborate defensive system in Asia: its commanders were rash enough to call it their ”Maginot Line.” Hutou was centred upon five forts built on neighbouring hills which rise up to four hundred feet above the riverbank. The concrete roofs and walls were nine feet thick, with generators, storerooms and living quarters sunk deep underground, linked by tunnels. The whole system was almost five miles wide and four deep, supported by some of the heaviest artillery in Asia, including 240mm Krupp guns and a 410mm howitzer. The Chinese a.s.sert that the 30,000 slave labourers who built the fortress were killed when their work was complete, and indeed many bodies were exhumed after 1945.

To the j.a.panese, Hutou was an unpopular posting, remote from any pleasures or amenities. For those who occupied its echoing caverns, it was also chronically unhealthy-moisture dripped off the concrete walls, rusted weapons, spoilt food. In winter the bunkers were icy cold, in summer stiflingly hot. Anyone familiar with the 1916 casemates of Verdun would readily have recognised 1945 Hutou. Through the years of war, veteran units had been removed from the fortress garrison and replaced by less impressive human material. Despite evidence of Soviet patrolling and the discovery of pontoons drifting on the Ussuri, Hutou's commander was absent at a briefing on the night of the initial attack, and was never able to return to his post. The defence was therefore directed by the local artillery commander, Captain Masao Oki.

The initial Soviet barrage cut road links and spread terror among the few hundred hapless civilians living behind the fortress. On 9 August, the Chinese inhabitants of Hutou towns.h.i.+p, a wattle-and-wooden settlement, were awakened in the early-morning darkness by the roar of aircraft overhead, the whistle of falling bombs and thud of sh.e.l.ls. Some fell on the j.a.panese defences, others among the houses, killing five Chinese. Jiang Fushun and his family huddled terrified beside a brick bed, the most substantial object in their flimsy hut. After two hours the sh.e.l.ling stopped, and hundreds of villagers ran out into the street. They saw the horizon rippling with gun flashes from the Russian sh.o.r.e of the Ussuri River, and at once understood that the Soviets were coming. j.a.panese soldiers ran into the town. Though some buildings were already blazing after being hit by bombs and sh.e.l.ls, they merely claimed that an air-raid practice was taking place. All civilians must move immediately into the nearby woods. There was no time to gather food or possessions. Jiang's father cried: ”Go-go-go! I'll stay and look after the house948.” The family fled, along with hundreds of others.

The defenders exploited a lull in Russian artillery fire to move all the garrison's family members and nearby immigrant j.a.panese farmers into the tunnel system. As well as six hundred regular troops, there were then sheltering underground a thousand civilians, some with militia training and weapons. An hour later, sh.e.l.ling resumed, and at 0800 Soviet infantry started crossing the Ussuri. The j.a.panese responded with mortar fire. This inflicted some casualties, but within three hours the attackers had secured a bridgehead. Amazingly, Hutou's biggest artillery pieces did not fire. They were short of gunners, and Captain Oki was preoccupied with directing the infantry defence. All that day and the next, Soviet troops continued to shuttle across the river. The local j.a.panese army commander, Lt.-Gen. Noritsune s.h.i.+muzu, telephoned Hutou on the evening of the ninth to deliver a wordy injunction to Oki to hold fast: ”In view of the current war situation949 and the circ.u.mstances of the garrison, you are all requested to fight to the last breath and meet your fate, when it comes, as courageously as flowers, so that you may become pillars of our nation.” After this heady torrent of mixed metaphors, all contact was lost between the defenders and the outside world. and the circ.u.mstances of the garrison, you are all requested to fight to the last breath and meet your fate, when it comes, as courageously as flowers, so that you may become pillars of our nation.” After this heady torrent of mixed metaphors, all contact was lost between the defenders and the outside world.

By nightfall on 10 August the surrounding area was securely in the hands of the invaders. When darkness came the Russians began attacks on the bunker system. All failed. It became plain that, against such strong defences, subtler tactics would be necessary. Through the days that followed, artillery was used to keep j.a.panese heads down, while infantry and engineer groups inched forward among the trenches. Soon they had isolated the individual forts, and destroyed j.a.panese artillery observation posts. The condition of the defenders became grim. ”After the first [Russian] salvo950, we knew the battle could have only one outcome,” wrote one of the few j.a.panese survivors, gunner Gamii Zhefu. ”In the tunnels beneath the fort, it was incredibly hot. We were desperate for water. The women were terrified. Then one soldier produced a canteen and gave everyone a sip, which did wonders for our morale. We were also very hungry, however, and started looking for food. We found some cans, ate-and started feeling thirsty again. Soon, for all of us, water became an obsession. It overcame even our fears about the battle and the threat of death. We were reduced to animal needs and desires.”

On 13 August, adopting a technique familiar in the Pacific island battles, Russians poured petrol down ventilation inlets and ignited it. Hundreds of defenders and their families perished in the conflagrations that followed. Yet the j.a.panese continued to surprise Russian troops with sallies, sometimes dislodging the attackers from newly occupied positions. One j.a.panese rush was led by a twenty-two-year-old probationary officer brandis.h.i.+ng a sword, who fell to a Russian grenade. Hutou's gunners, unable to use their huge weapons, destroyed them with demolition charges and formed suicide squads. A j.a.panese artillery piece was destroyed by a round from its neighbour, firing at point-blank range. The central heights of the fortress changed hands nine times.

The wretched defenders of Hutou knew nothing of the emperor's broadcast on 15 August, nor of their country's surrender. They rejected all Russian calls to lay down their arms. On the seventeenth, a five-man party of local Chinese and captured j.a.panese carrying a white flag was dispatched from the Soviet lines to tell the garrison that the war was over. The officer who received them dismissed such a notion with contempt. He drew his sword and beheaded the elderly Chinese bearing the Soviet proposals. ”We have nothing to say to the Red Army,” he declared, before retiring into his bunker. The Soviet barrage resumed. Conditions underground became unendurable. Many of those in the tunnels and casemates suffered carbon monoxide poisoning. ”There were plenty of951 bodies down there,” wrote Gamii Zhefu. ”I heard a wounded man crying repeatedly 'Water, water,' but no one took any notice of him. I was momentarily excited by seeing a trickle of fluid running across the floor, until I realised that it was leaking from a corpse. I drank it. Another man said: 'That stuff will kill you.' I didn't care. I was dying of thirst anyway.” bodies down there,” wrote Gamii Zhefu. ”I heard a wounded man crying repeatedly 'Water, water,' but no one took any notice of him. I was momentarily excited by seeing a trickle of fluid running across the floor, until I realised that it was leaking from a corpse. I drank it. Another man said: 'That stuff will kill you.' I didn't care. I was dying of thirst anyway.”

For hundreds of peasants sheltering in the woods, in the first days there was nothing to eat save a few berries and wild plants. They drank water from the river, and listened to the appalling cacophony of battle on the Hutou hills. A few j.a.panese immigrants huddled among them, but most had sought the shelter of the fortress. On the fourth day, while fighting still raged, Red soldiers appeared and herded the civilians down to the riverbank, which was now secure. The Russians smashed open a big j.a.panese food store, and invited the Chinese to help themselves. They were able to make rice soup to sustain them through another ten days of uncertainty and gunfire on the hills above.

On 19 August, a large party of j.a.panese from the fortress attempted a break for freedom. They were cut down by Russian machine guns. By the twenty-second, almost all the underground bunkers had become untenable. Soviet troops probing cautiously down the steps met a ghastly stench of humanity, cordite and death. In one bunker, the bodies of men, women and eighty children aged between one and twelve were heaped together. In a cavern beneath Strongpoint ”Sharp” lay another pile of women's corpses. There was also the detritus of the dead-cooking pots, wire-rimmed spectacles, gramophones, a few bicycles, pin-up pictures of surprisingly smartly dressed ”comfort women.” The Soviets declared the Hutou Fortified Region secure. Yet for four days more, one isolated j.a.panese company continued its resistance. Only on 26 August was this remnant snuffed out. Thus, today, a huge Soviet war memorial on the site declares Hutou to be the scene of the final battle of the Second World War. Almost 2,000 j.a.panese men, women and children perished in and around the fortress, days after the rest of the world celebrated peace.

Russians told the Chinese fugitives in the woods behind Hutou that it was now safe to come out. In a curious introduction to their new lives, these bewildered peasants were shown a propaganda film about the Russian Revolution. A commissar addressed them through an interpreter: ”Red soldiers have made great sacrifices in this battle to bring you liberty, and now it is yours.” The j.a.panese were all dead, he said. The villagers could go home. Home? They drifted uneasily back to their huts, to find only ruins and blackened earth. In the ashes of Jiang Fushun's family home lay the body of his father, a bullet through his head, the price of his rashness in staying behind. Every Chinese who ventured into the village during the battle had met the same fate. Those who had relatives elsewhere began long treks in search of sanctuary, but Jiang's family had no one to go to. They lingered among the ruins, scrabbling to build themselves a shelter, scavenging for food. The task was made no easier by the fact that Russian soldiers began to remove everything edible or of value. The Chinese were appalled to see the liberators drive off the horses on which their tiny farms depended. Women were raped in the usual fas.h.i.+on.

Soviet soldiers warned peasants not to approach the forts, which were still littered with mines and munitions. After a few days, however, Jiang and a few others wandered up to the blackened casemates, gazing in revulsion at the unburied corpses of j.a.panese soldiers and their women. When the Russians finally departed, taking with them even the tracks of the local railway, the thousand or so desolate people left in Hutou found themselves existing in a limbo. The village headman was dead. For more than two years thereafter, no one attempted to exercise authority over them, nor to provide aid of any kind. When the Communists eventually a.s.sumed control of their lives, ”things became a little better.”

Only forty-six j.a.panese are known to have escaped from the fortress with their lives. ”The defence was extraordinarily brave952,” says Chinese historian w.a.n.g Hongbin, ”which usually demands respect. But it was also completely futile. It is hard to admire blind loyalty to the emperor at that stage. They all died for nothing.”

Lt. Stanislav Chervyakov's rocket battery entered Shenyang having scarcely fired a salvo, and without meeting serious resistance. The soldiers were amazed to meet Russian emigres, who welcomed them warmly. Chervyakov found himself billeted on one such family. In this city where Russian influence had always been strong, some local people spoke a few words of the language. Chinese stood outside little cafes, urging the soldiers: ”Come in, have a drink or a meal!” ”Kapitana, shango! shango!”-”Good! good!” Sgt. Anatoly Fillipov was delighted to be handed a mess tin of pelmeni pelmeni-ravioli-but became less enthusiastic when he discovered that it was made with donkey meat. ”Most of the local people953 welcomed us with open arms,” said tank officer Alexander Fadin. ”They were threadbare, in rags, but they gave us ma.s.ses of flowers, fruit and Chinese food. We could eat all we wanted in the Chinese restaurants for free. We really felt like liberators.” welcomed us with open arms,” said tank officer Alexander Fadin. ”They were threadbare, in rags, but they gave us ma.s.ses of flowers, fruit and Chinese food. We could eat all we wanted in the Chinese restaurants for free. We really felt like liberators.”

Stalin had promised the Allies that he recognised Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalists as the sole legitimate government of China. This did not prevent Soviet forces in Manchuria from seeking to give Mao's people a head start in the civil war that was now imminent. ”I shall never forget my first sight of the People's Army,” said Russian gunner Georgy Sergeev. ”I saw some men coming down954 from the mountains. They were in rags, many barefoot. They had no weapons, but each carried a stick with a bundle on its end. So this was the heroic 8th Route Army.” Crowds of vengeful Chinese gathered around headquarters and POW cages, shouting at the Russians to surrender the prisoners to them. On 23 August, Soviet front HQ ordered the handover of captured j.a.panese weapons to nearby Chinese Communist units. To satisfy the letter of Stalin's agreement with the Nationalists, Soviet officers were to have no personal dealings with Mao's people, instead merely to withdraw guards from arms dumps. The first Communist unit arrived in darkness, and laboured by torchlight in complete silence, manhandling crates of weapons and ammunition with furious energy. ”When I came back to the depots from the mountains. They were in rags, many barefoot. They had no weapons, but each carried a stick with a bundle on its end. So this was the heroic 8th Route Army.” Crowds of vengeful Chinese gathered around headquarters and POW cages, shouting at the Russians to surrender the prisoners to them. On 23 August, Soviet front HQ ordered the handover of captured j.a.panese weapons to nearby Chinese Communist units. To satisfy the letter of Stalin's agreement with the Nationalists, Soviet officers were to have no personal dealings with Mao's people, instead merely to withdraw guards from arms dumps. The first Communist unit arrived in darkness, and laboured by torchlight in complete silence, manhandling crates of weapons and ammunition with furious energy. ”When I came back to the depots955 with my men,” said a Soviet officer, Major Belyaev, ”they were completely empty, literally cleaned out. The Chinese had even swept the floor and taken away the shelving.” with my men,” said a Soviet officer, Major Belyaev, ”they were completely empty, literally cleaned out. The Chinese had even swept the floor and taken away the shelving.”

THE EMPEROR P PU Y YI heard news of the j.a.panese surrender at Dalizikou, where the final drama of his pitiful reign was acted out. For the third and final time in his life, on 15 August he signed an ”Abdication Rescript,” surrounded by unhappy ministers and privy councillors. His j.a.panese custodian announced that he was to be evacuated to j.a.pan. He should decide who should accompany him. The emperor chose his brother, two brothers-in-law, three nephews, his doctor and valet. His sole remaining concubine asked through sobs what she was supposed to do. The emperor blandly responded that she could not accompany him: ”The plane is too small, so you will have to go by train.” heard news of the j.a.panese surrender at Dalizikou, where the final drama of his pitiful reign was acted out. For the third and final time in his life, on 15 August he signed an ”Abdication Rescript,” surrounded by unhappy ministers and privy councillors. His j.a.panese custodian announced that he was to be evacuated to j.a.pan. He should decide who should accompany him. The emperor chose his brother, two brothers-in-law, three nephews, his doctor and valet. His sole remaining concubine asked through sobs what she was supposed to do. The emperor blandly responded that she could not accompany him: ”The plane is too small, so you will have to go by train.”

”Will the train get to j.a.pan?”

”Of course it will. In three days at most you and the empress will see me again.”