The Second Russo-Japanese War
By the spring of 1939, Japan has been at war with the Joseon Dynasty for over a decade, yet in many ways their conflict was only the front for another rival. The Russian Empire had for a long time held ambitions for the Pacific, and promised to assist the Koreans in exchange for regional influence and market opportunities. As their weapons flooded into China, Japanese military command came to the conclusion that war with Russia was inevitable. The question remained: Do they wait to fight Russia when they finally decide to take a more active role? Or do they instead take preemptive measures against the sleeping giant, striking before they can prepare?
Kessen
The Russian regency did not have many formal relationships beyond any partnerships forged before the death of the Tsar. Officially the state was not supposed to negotiate any foreign dealings, even when modifying existing contracts. Certain exceptions were made within the aristocracy of Europe, but no such loophole was made for China. Instead, all deals between the two states were carried out through the megacorporations, with the Okhotsk Techno-Union serving as a logistical middle-man. Tens of millions of pounds in munitions, armored vehicles, and artillery funneled south through the Gobi each year during the first half of the Joseon-Japanese War. Due to this extra layer of insulation, the Russian government was able to avoid a majority of international attention, and more importantly the blame.
The secret slipped in 1936 when Joseon, in preparation for the Sichuan Blitz, requested an enormous amount of light artillery directly from the regency government, as the OTU’s stockpiles were already drained. Rumors of the request almost immediately reached the ears of Japanese Ambassador to Russia Uchida Kosai. He was unfortunately delayed in reporting to Japan, as the Okhrana attempted to keep the maneuver a secret by staging a communications blackout in the capital for 72 hours. Nonetheless, the Russian involvement in Joseon’s war became an open secret in diplomatic circles over the following weeks, with Japan immediately demanding sanctions from all of its allies.
For the next two years Russo-Japanese relations festered, with the two making constant diplomatic threats and economic attacks. Russia continued to send supplies into Joseon, only now in a more official capacity given the loss of secrecy. Japan continued the war in China with renewed hostility, investing billions of yen in arms research to counter the new Korean equipment. They waited patiently to strike out against Russia, taking advantage of their British alliance as an insurance policy against northern aggression. In early 1939, military command would be given two signs that their opportunity for revenge was near. The first draft of soldiers from Ebisu arrived in Japan for training, allowing both branches of the military to field a fresh generation of soldiers in the following months. Their exhausted veterans on the front line could now be relieved for a time, and Japan could keep up with the demand of their new war with revolutionary France. The second sign that the time for war was upon them came from the west, as tensions in Europe reached a new fever pitch.
Due to suspicious circumstances near the city of Smolensk, Russia found itself in open war with Poland in late March, 1939. The world was caught by surprise, but Japan saw a valuable opportunity before them. A majority of Russia’s standing army was deployed to Eastern Europe, and it would take time for them to recruit new forces. Japan meanwhile had the infrastructure and manpower ready and waiting, with the Northeast Area Fleet on standby in Hakodate. The circumstances ironically echoed the last time the two nations fought, as Lithuanian extremists also clashed with the Russian Empire in 1904, leading the Meiji-era military to launch a swift strike. This time the threat in Europe was even more severe, and the Japanese knew they had the opportunity to deal some decisive damage before a reprisal could even be considered. After all, Japan was already fighting a war in two theaters, the Russian regency council could not perceive that they had the resources to launch a third simultaneous campaign. They were wrong.
On March 30th, the Showa Emperor signed a secret decree ordering the Imperial Navy to carry out a strategic invasion of the Russian mainland, with the hope to disable enemy operations in the Pacific. The Northeastern Area Fleet was deployed to Vladivostok, where they carried out early morning bombing runs on the city while their shield generators were operating on minimal power. The fleet arrived shortly before noon, and they quickly encircled the port city with the deployment of the Rikusentai. The local boyar’s personal troops were caught unaware, and the civilian population inside was unable to flee. The central garrison of the city held out long after the surrounding area was subjugated, with the last vestiges of local resistance being stamped out by the 21st of April. A majority of troops could not stay and wait for the siege however, as the advance inland had only just begun.
Kita ni Ike!
With the added stress of the Polish conflict, regency forces were unable to aid the local boyars with reinforcements, as the nation’s heartland was still at great risk of invasion. The only troops to come to their aid were the private military groups of the Okhotsk Techno-Union, who hoped to hold back the Japanese as they advanced straight for Yakutsk. Their soldiers were professionally trained, but most of their experience was against lightly armed worker revolts, not a properly armed fighting force. Their only advantage was the very geography they had, as the distance from the Japanese landing zone to Yakutsk was thousands of kilometers of rough terrain. The IJN had the fleet at their back, but they feared a hard advance from the skies would prove difficult. The resulting strategy they employed was a mixed-terrain approach, with ground troops advancing on defended settlements from a landing point 10 kilometers outside of firing range, allowing the Rikusentai to properly assemble battle formations. After capturing a key point, the bulk of Japanese forces would embark on the fleet, advancing over the wasteland rather than through it. As a majority of Siberia was empty, the Russians had no means to combat this strategy, and the Japanese were able to gain ground at miraculous speeds. By the end of summer, the IJN had pushed 2,500 kilometers north, capturing almost every settlement on the route to Yakutsk.
In June, forces from Joseon attempted to cut off Japanese supply lines near the Amur River. The resulting clash at Khabarovsk saw an unaware supply caravan en-route north get destroyed. However the attack was not without consequence, as the Korean raiding forces were utterly wiped out in a Japanese reprisal as they retreated back into the hills. Local Korean garrisons from that point on fell back to the current doctrine used in the south, heavily entrenching their border to prevent any invasion attempts. This decision was effective in theory, but ultimately misguided, as the Northeastern Area Fleet was fully committed to the push against Russia, and was under order to ignore Joseon garrisons where possible. Any future Korean strikes could be shelled from low orbit, and would only result in pulling more troops from the Chinese front, swinging momentum in the IJA’s favor. For the sake of conserving their strength, the Imperial Court decided to leave the Russians to their own devices, though the implications this had on their supply lines concerned them. If the Japanese were allowed to fully encircle them, how long would they be able to hold out?
Loss of Momentum
As Japan passed the Amur, their advance started to bisect, with a smaller task force advancing westward. Yakutsk was still their priority, but ultimately they feared a retaliatory strike from the boyar stronghold of Irkutsk, a major rail hub for eastern Russia. On the way they also neutralized Korean border outposts at Heihe and Da Hinggan Ling, hoping to secure their supply lines. These strikes set off alarms in both enemy empires, with their respective courts calling for any available reinforcements. If the Japanese advance were to push deeper into Korea territory, they could threaten Cavorite mining operations south of Hulunbuir, hampering both nation’s production of ships. Whether or not it would hamper operations elsewhere, Joseon had to reinforce their northern flank, and Russia was forced to call on one of its more unruly subjects.
The new Mongol horde had already been fighting the Japanese of their own volition for several years, with their leader Sergeltiin Khan personally leading raids in central China. His son, Altan, ruled in his stead, and received the missive from both governments personally. The Khanate was promised land sessions from Kazakhstan after the war if they’d launch raids on the Japanese in the north, two courses of action the young heir already had in mind for the future with or without permission. He quietly made preparations for a full counterattack, but waited for the naval encroachment to arrive at Lake Baikal.
Japanese expeditionary forces arrived outside Ulan-Ude on July 7th, 1939. They were almost immediately met by forces belonging to the local boyar, Grigor Vladmirovich Amursky, who dedicated half of his guard to slow the approach of the IJN. His troops were severely outnumbered, but had heavily fortified the town in anticipation of the advance. Fighting persisted through the night, until Amursky ordered the firing of signal flares just before dawn. As the sun rose in the east, the forces of Altan Sibirsky approached the Japanese forces from the rear, composed of thousands of cavalry and light armor. The glare of the morning sun made it difficult for the rear guard to defend themselves with any accuracy. The fleet overhead could only briefly take shots at the oncoming charge, as they quickly entered an open melee with their ground forces. The Rikusentai, tired from months of fighting, eventually broke rank and shifted northward after countless casualties. The fleet facilitated a swift retreat, at the cost of some of their cruisers who caught heavy flak fire. The loss at Ulan-Ude did not ultimately rout the Japanese attack, but their momentum westward did not recover, with the defending Russians and Mongols utilizing Lake Baikal as a natural bulwark against heavy assaults. Naval forces dug in for a protracted siege, holding position as half of their ships established supply lines back to the sea.
The northern advance was also eventually slowed, albeit with the lack of a flashy battle like the western front. The Okhotsk Techno-Union recalled all non-essential mercenary forces from the Nikolovsk system, and spent much of the summer converting transport freighters into makeshift troop carriers and skirmishing craft. As the Japanese inched closer to the Lena River, forward momentum slowed to a crawl, with the offensive practically stopping along battlelines from Khocho to Pokrovsk in October of 1939. Japan had successfully conquered thousands of kilometers of Russian land in six months, but unfortunately they fell short of their goal by only a few dozen. Further still, the tactical gains from their efforts were ultimately minimal. Their conquest of Vladivostok ensured their maritime dominance, but Russia still possessed a vast rail infrastructure, as well as a largely unblemished aether fleet in the west.
More important was the effect this declaration of war had on the rest of the world. For a decade the forces of Japan were deeply invested in a war against singular foes, with Indochina and Joseon’s conflicts not spreading to the global stage. However, the attack on Russia coupled with Spain’s earlier attack on France had properly declared the Anglo-Japanese Pact’s involvement in the Great War as a standalone third party. The entire world would soon be plunged into even deeper chaos, with Japan and its allies joining the fray for their own ambitions, rather than the sake of peace. While no one could place all the blame upon the Japanese for what would soon unfold, the choice to invade Siberia was one they made with a level head, plenty of planning, and the cold fury of a decades-old rivalry.
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