Free Weekly Digest
Canned crab, suicides and Belgian waffle...
This is your free weekly round of up of my history world. There are snippets of this weeks’ content, images from a Belgian WW1 Road Trip, and news of what is to come for subscribers next week.
This Week
I posted two parts of a written version of the talk I gave last weekend at We Have Ways Fest.
On Tuesday, I started off by explaining how overextended the Japanese were by 1944. Pearl Harbour was not an isolated attack. It was part of a massive drive out across the Pacific to add to Japan’s Empire. It was a huge commitment in manpower. Bear in mind Japan had a population of about 75,000,000 during WW2. The following numbers are upper limits, and men would have been shuffled about. Also, they include some of the collaborate and puppet state troops.
Allow for about 500,000 men in the army air services. In 1943, I have a figure of roughly 750,000 in the navy. In terms of land forces, 320,000 served men in Burma, along with some 4 million in China. That doesn’t include Manchuria. A total for that has eluded me but I did find one of about 750,000 for the Kwantung Army, which was the one that stomped out of Korea and blew a hole in a railway igniting WW2 in 1937. Then there are nearly 8 million men who served on two fronts in the Pacific, one either side of the Equator.
All of this was an enormous endeavour in resources too. It’s part of the reason that Japan launched itself on such a ridiculous scale in the first place. They were looking to nail down supplies of things like oil and rubber. During the talk I used one example, and that was the production of the Mitsubishi Zero in 1944:
The factory in Nagoya had doubled its workforce, and yet in 1943 only managed 50% of its target output. In 1944, it was supposed to turn out 40,000 aircraft, and it was clear early on that this was a pipe dream. There was a lack of materials for construction, bad logistics, deficient numbers of skilled workers, and an inability to utilise mass production techniques. At the end of 1943, finished aeroplanes were being dragged out of the factory and some 25 miles for delivery by oxen. Yep. The Japanese war effort was partly dependent on pack animals that they couldn’t feed.
You can read the complete article for free:
At the end of the week I put up the second half of the written version of my talk:
At Peleliu, the Americans planned to land on the southwest coast of the island and push across to where they knew there was a viable airfield. The plan of action was woefully optimistic. D-Day, 15th September, was to end with the US Marine Corps having established a beachhead. On day two, they were to take the airfield and just like at Saipan, they were to drive across the island and sever it in half. On the third and fourth days, they were supposed to turn northwards towards limestone hills and roll the enemy north.
The men selected for this job were the men of the 1st Marine Division. Including veterans of Guadalcanal, they had been training, as best they could at least, on a rancid splash of jungle known as Pavavu. The journey to Peleliu, which many rated as the worst island they set foot on in the Pacific, would take a fortnight. Thrilled to be leaving their rat-infested purgatory they might have been, but they can hardly have been enthused as they marched out and passed men hammering together white crosses to adorn their potential graves.
The man commanding the marines was General William Rupert’s, and as I said on stage, try as a I might, it’s hard to come out of this story with any other impression than that the man was a complete arse. You’ll see as we go on, but it starts with his conviction that this was going to be a rapid seizure of Peleliu. He didn’t think it would be bloodless, but he is waving the phrase “quickie” about. He is so overly confident that it verged on smug.
Also en route for the Palaus was the 81st Infantry Division, the Wildcats, and Rupert’s was utterly against their presence. He would belligerently, on multiple occasions, fight against any army boots hitting the ground on Peleliu. He didn’t want them, and he thought he didn’t need them.
The first wave of landing craft approaches Peleliu (US Navy)
The marines watched a thunderous barrage pummel the island as they approached. Despite their experience, this would be their first opposed landing, and they were confident watching it that the naval gunners and everyone else smashing Peleliu to pieces had done their jobs and that there could be barely anyone alive.
D-Day was 15th September 1944, and by 10:30am nearly 10,000 marines had been landed on a two mile beachfront, penetrating up to 500 yards in some places. The following day, according to plan, this force was to push across to the opposite coast. Rupertus was ashore, and was so confident that he fobbed off the 81st Division entirely. All that remained was the two day drive up the island. And this is where the problems began…
You can finish reading this article here:
On the Road
This week I’ve been out to the east of Liège, and since then have been working my way back following the German invasion of Belgium in 1914. Here are some photos from my travels:
We started off looking at the German conquest of the forts at Liège. This memorial is at Chaudfontaine. Where more than 100 unfortunate men were trapped in a chamber when it caught fire. They are buried outside in a small military cemetery.
We recreated the French army storming the citadel at Dinant, but possibly at a slower pace. We did better than a young officer named Charles de Gaulle, who had already been shot in the leg at this point.
After some stops on the battlefield at Charleroi to look at the French Fifth Army in the Battle of the Frontiers, it was on to Mons, including the unique CWGC cemetery at St. Symphorien.
We spent a busy day exploring the British front during the First Battle of Ypres, as well as the French contribution.
Then it was up to the Yser front to look at the other battle raging at the same time that was just as important as Ypres. The above photo shows a pair of statues representing grieving parents. The artist’s son, in his 18th year when he was killed, is buried at their feet.
We ended up right on the coast, investigating the Belgian inundation of the last bit of the Western Front, and paying at our respects as a forgotten memorial to the missing that sees few British visitors.
I’ll be taking a trip out to the Ardennes next summer to look at how three wars have impacted the area. To stay up to date on this, news of more trips to Jordan, Orkney, France, Italy and Thailand, click here.
Next Week
You can expect some more on the inundation of the Belgian coastal area of the Western Front and why King Albert sanctioned this drastic move. I’ll also be posting about another “lost” occupation, though much like the guillotine last time, it’s not one I think anybody misses…
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