The Sino-Japanese War: The Empire Under Attack

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The Sino-Japanese War: The Empire Under Attack


"Korea is a dagger pointed at the heart of Japan!" pompously declared Yamagata Aritomo—a participant in the Boshin Civil War, the Satsuma Rebellion, the Sino-Japanese and Russo-Japanese Wars, a general, two-time Prime Minister of Japan, the "father of the Japanese army," and so on, and so on, and so forth... The Japanese really do have crooked daggers, and Korea, compared to Japan, naturally looks like a "tanto," a samurai dagger. But the war between the Land of the Rising Sun and the Celestial Empire didn't start because of geopolitical considerations—the term "geopolitics" itself would only emerge after the conflict was over—but simply because of money.




General Yamagata Aritomo, "Father of the Japanese Army"

The fact is that Japan, which had begun actively developing capitalism, needed markets for its products, and Korea was a perfect fit—products from Japanese factories poured into the Korean market, enriching the fledgling zaibatsu of Mitsui, Mitsubishi, Sumimoto, Yasuda, and the like. In the 80s, the share of Japanese products in the "Land of the Morning Calm" was 80 percent. But by 1894, it had fallen to 55 percent—China was also developing industry, which also benefited from the Korean market. Moreover, although the economic reforms of the Middle Kingdom were not nearly as rapid as in the land of sake, geisha, and Godzilla, given China's population size... In short, the samurai gradually began to understand that without taking control of Korea, the fledgling domestic industry would collapse like a copper jar used for making jam.


Donghaks are Taipings with a Korean accent.

There was no need for a pretext for war: when you really want one, anything can become one! According to the Treaty of Tientsin of 1884, if uprisings broke out in Korea, both Japan and China had the right to send troops to suppress them. And a rebellion did occur in Korea. A version of the Taiping Rebellion—the Donghak—emerged there. Donghak—"Eastern Teaching"—was a doctrine opposed to Christianity, "Western Teaching," and heavily interwoven with Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism. But the essence of this movement wasn't ideology (the Taiping Rebellion was supposedly Christian, but it acted exactly the same way), but rather the fact that Japanese industrial production was ruining local artisans, while food prices, driven up by exports to Japan, were making life miserable for everyone else. The founder of the teaching was a certain Choi Cheu, executed in 1864 because his followers bore very little resemblance to the followers of Leo Tolstoy or Mahatma Gandhi.


Jeon Bong-joon in captivity

But things really took off in 1893, when the Donghak movement was led by members of the Korean nobility. The rebels attacked local landowners and killed Japanese merchants, burned estates, divided up grain, and destroyed debt obligations. Initially, the government sent troops to suppress the Donghak, who managed to defeat the rebel forces. But in January 1894, the rebellion flared up again. Local troops and mercenary merchant squads were defeated by troops led by the minor official Jeong Bongjun, and the rebellion spread like wildfire, spreading county after county.

A detachment of government troops, equipped with a 75mm Krupp gun and a Gatling gun, moved in to suppress the rebels. This gave the rebels a modern weapon. artilleryOn May 31, 1894, the Donghaks captured Jeonju. General Hong Kyehoon, who had hastily returned to the city, laid siege to the fortress, but his forces were insufficient for an assault. The rebels, meanwhile, lacked the strength to break through to the south—to the lands inhabited by the poorest and most oppressed peasantry (yes, traditionally in Korea, the North was richer than the South). Ultimately, the King of Korea, finding himself in a difficult situation, remembered that he was a vassal of Qing China. He asked for help.


Japanese in Seoul

And he did! And from both China and Japan. Simultaneously. China sent Ye Zhichao's corps to Korea—2,5 bayonets and 8 guns. The Chinese stood at Asan, blocking the rebels' path to Seoul. And the Japanese, 400 strong, entered Seoul itself and occupied all the key points of the city. After this, the government managed to reach an agreement with the Donghaks: they demanded the replacement of the most corrupt officials, the punishment of the most cruel landowners, and so on—petty things, like writing off debts, for example, or allowing widows to remarry. After which... After which a delegation from the Japanese Genyosha—the Dark Ocean Society, a pan-Asian organization tied to the zaibatsu, the military, and other interesting (and influential!) personalities—appeared before the Donghaks. They made Jeon Bongjun an offer that was captivating in its novelty: money, weapon, everything that the soul desires, just keep going, my dear!


Heungseon Taewongun, King of Korea

The Donghak leader showed his best side: he refused to follow the lead of his ideological opponent. But the government abandoned him and his comrades. Of all the conditions set, only a reform of local government was allowed (they didn't even allow widows to remarry, the bastards!). And then everything started all over again, only on a redoubled scale—gangs posing as Donghaks began appearing across the country and wreaking havoc. Naturally, Chinese and Japanese troops were reintroduced into Korea in response, but this time the Japanese generals landed three times as many soldiers in Chemulpo as their Chinese counterparts—8 bayonets. They then staged a coup d'état in Seoul (which they held): they seized the Gyeongbokgung royal palace, restoring King Gojong's father, Heungseon Taewongun, to the throne. Heungseon immediately, on July 27, asked the Japanese to expel the Chinese from Korea.


Cruiser "Jiyuan"

But by that time the gunfire was already ringing out. On July 25, the Battle of Asan took place. On July 22, Chinese ships arrived in Asan: the cruiser Jiyuan, the torpedo cruiser Guanyi, the Weiyuan, and two transports carrying a battalion of infantry and military equipment. After disembarking the troops, the transports departed, while the Jiyuan and Guanyi remained behind, awaiting the transport Koushing (sometimes written Gaoshen), accompanied by the dispatch ship Caojiang. The Japanese combined fleet The fleet set out to sea on July 23. Rear Admiral Kozo Tsuboi's "flying squadron"—the armored cruisers Yoshino, Takachiho, Naniwa, and Akitsushima—followed ahead. On July 25, the flying squadron approached the entrance to Asan Bay (Takachiho separated from the squadron and did not participate in the battle).


Armored cruiser Naniwa

At 5:00 a.m., the Jiyuan and Guanyi headed out of the bay to ensure the Koushing's unimpeded entry into Asan. Had the Qing commanders known that the Japanese had decided to fight (the samurai always considered declaring war to be bad form), the Chinese "cruisers" (essentially gunboats) would have fought in the bay, where there was less room to maneuver. But they didn't know this.

There are two versions of what happened next. According to one, the Chinese refused to salute Rear Admiral Tsuboi's flag, which offended him and ordered fire. According to another, the Jiyuan, raising a white flag, launched a torpedo at the Japanese ships. A third version claims that the Japanese admiral had previously dispatched the dispatch ships Yaeyama and Takao to Asan, and upon encountering the Chinese there, assumed they had been sunk. But all this is nonsense; the Japanese had originally intended to sink the Chinese ships. At 8:00 a.m., the Naniwa opened fire on the Jiyuan from a range of 274 meters. The first shots of the Sino-Japanese War had been fired.


The destroyed Guangyi

The most powerful Chinese ship was knocked out by the very first shots: from 274 meters, it's hard to miss. Japanese 8-inch shells struck the bridge and the forward main battery turret, and the aft 6-inch gun was unable to fire due to the stretched awning—the Chinese were serving under peacetime regulations. The ship maintained speed, but was unable to steer or engage. Fortunately, the German instructor, Hoffman, was on board and restored control using temporary tiller tackles. The torpedo cruiser Guangyi attacked the Japanese, drawing their fire away from the flagship. The ship fired at the Naniwa and Akitsushima, sustained numerous hits, caught fire, and began to sink, but its commander, Lin Gaoxiang, managed to beach the ship and rescue the 79 surviving crew members. The Akitsushima approached and fired about 30 shots at the Guangyi, finishing off the damaged ship. Meanwhile, the Jiyuan managed to escape, and the Yoshino gave chase but failed to catch it. Interestingly, it was considered the fastest ship in the Combined Fleet, but in reality, it was unable to catch the Chinese slow-moving vessel.


The Jiyuan's wheelhouse after the battle

The sight of the Jiyuan arriving in Weihaiwei shocked even seasoned sailors: the ship was splattered with blood up to its funnels, its superstructure mangled, and the decks littered with shattered lifeboats, pieces of planking, and crew body parts. Chinese losses are known: 13 men killed and 40 wounded on the Jiyuan, 31 killed on the Guangyi; one ship was lost, the other rescued. The Japanese detachment's fate remains unclear: according to Japanese reports, there were no killed or wounded. But this is likely a lie: the Chinese explain the Jiyuan's rescue by claiming that its gunners tore off the quarterdeck awning with a shot from the stern 6-inch gun, after which they slammed several lucky hits on the Yoshino, including one that killed the Japanese admiral. It's clear the admiral is lying: it's impossible to discern such details in combat, but multiple hits are quite likely—otherwise, there's no other explanation for the Jiyuan's failure to catch the Yoshino. Indirect confirmation of this was provided by the Japanese naval chief of medical services, who claimed the Chinese hit the Yoshino twice: the first shell knocked off the gaff, and the second, penetrating the armor plate, entered the engine room but failed to explode.


Chinese soldiers on the Koushing

The next battle, if you can call it that, inflicted far greater losses on the Chinese. The British ship Coushing was carrying 1100 Chinese soldiers and officers, as well as 14 field guns, to Korea. The steamship was escorted by the old wooden gunboat Caojiang, carrying four 90-pounder muzzle-loading guns. In addition to the Chinese, the ship also carried a retired German military engineer, Major K. von Henneken, on his way home.

On the morning of July 25, the "Coshing" approached Asan, where it was stopped by the "Naniwa." A Japanese officer was dispatched to the ship, demanding that the "Coshing"'s English captain, T. Galsworthy, follow the Japanese ship. This was pure piracy: the ship was neutral, and war had not been declared, but this did not bother the Japanese in the least. The captain agreed to comply with the insolent samurai's demands, but the Chinese soldiers refused to surrender. They opened fire with rifles from the deck, to which the "Naniwa" fired a torpedo (a real shot) and began shelling the ship. Soon, the "Coshing" lost its propulsion and began to sink. The Chinese continued to fire back with rifles, while the Japanese mowed them down with mitrailleuses and Hotchkiss guns.

The British who found themselves in the water were lifted aboard a Japanese cruiser, while the Chinese were still being finished off in the water for a long time. However, 300 soldiers managed to swim to a nearby island, from where they were evacuated by German and French gunboats. In short, the battle of the Jiyuan became a Chinese analogue to the Battle of the Varyag at Chemulpo, sparking a wave of patriotic enthusiasm. The gunner of the stern 6-inch gun received a reward of 1000 liang in silver (approximately 2000 rubles at the exchange rate at the time). And the shooting of Chinese soldiers in the water led to no consequences: the Japanese were forgiven! Attitudes toward Chinese and dogs at that time were roughly the same...


General Oshima Yoshimasa at the height of his career

Meanwhile, on August 26, Korea and Japan signed a treaty, according to which the King of the Land of the Morning Calm instructed the Japanese to drive the Celestial Empire's army from the territory entrusted to him. But on land, things weren't so good for the Japanese. The "trained army" was well prepared, while the Japanese weren't exactly stellar. General Ye Zhichao managed to withdraw his troops from the attack of Major General Oshima Yoshimasa's mixed brigade and retreat to Gongju, where the Chinese began to prepare fortifications.

In the rearguard action that took place on July 29, the Chinese commander managed to inflict serious losses on the superior enemy forces and retreat in an orderly manner. However, during the retreat, the Chinese were forced to abandon their artillery (eight guns), which had used up all their ammunition—the "well-trained army" was in terrible disarray with its supplies. The Japanese only captured 83 rifles, suggesting that the losses of just over 100 killed and wounded cited in Chinese sources are close to the truth. The Chinese were also aided by the sympathy of the Korean population: the Chinese generals boldly left their wounded in the care of local residents.

True, the idyll didn't last long: the Qing government urgently recruited 56 new recruits, and they recruited anyone and everyone, including former (and not only former!) criminals, Honghuzi, and other antisocial elements ("good iron doesn't make nails, good people don't make soldiers"), so the recruits had a blast with the Koreans—robbery and rape were the norm, and the population's attitude toward the Chinese army began to change rapidly.


Battle of the Walls of Pyongyang

Ye Zhichao retreated toward Pyongyang. The Chinese general had no more than 18 troops, while the advancing Japanese general Nozu Mitsuchira had at least 40. The battle took place beneath the city walls of the future capital of the DPRK: the Chinese troops held their positions firmly, but a flanking maneuver handed victory to the Japanese. However, Nozu was unable to organize a "Sedan" against his opponents: a torrential rain began, and under its cover, the Chinese slipped out of the trap and retreated north, although losses were heavy. The ferocity of the battle is evidenced by the fact that General Zuo Baogui died there, at the Hyeonmu Gate, and Chinese generals rarely found themselves in the thick of battle. Ye Zhichao decided to engage the Japanese again on the Yalu River, along the Chinese-Korean border. The general had good reason for this: the Beiyang Fleet had been tasked with landing troops at the mouth of the Yalu River...


Battle of the Yalu River

I've already described the naval battle at the Yalu River in "Military Review," so I won't dwell on it at length. However, I will note that, despite the losses suffered by Admiral Ding Ruchang's fleet, it accomplished its mission—the landing force was successfully deployed. The Japanese, on the other hand, were unable to prevent the landing, so the Yalu was a victory for the Chinese navy. Yes, it was a costly victory, yes, a victory in a losing war, but a victory nonetheless! The important thing is that the victory was Pyrrhic—the Beiyang Fleet was unable to further resist the Japanese and was pinned down in Weihaiwei, where it subsequently perished.


General Nie Shichen

The landed reinforcements were unable to help General Song Qing (Ye Zhichao had been removed from his post and sent to gather reinforcements) stop the Japanese at the Chinese border. 24 bayonets with 90 guns took up defensive positions along hastily prepared lines. On October 25, General Yamagata Aritomo's 1st Japanese Army launched an offensive. The Chinese general made the mistake of stretching his troops too thin, trying to cover as much ground as possible. Therefore, the Japanese concentrated superior forces in the direction of the decisive attack.

Yamagata initially feigned an attack on the center of the Chinese position at Jiuliangchancheng, and once Song Qing's army was engaged in battle, he launched the main attack on the flank at Hushan. To accomplish this, on the night of October 24, Japanese sappers built a pontoon bridge across the Yalu, allowing the strike forces to reach the Chinese positions dry-shod. The fiercest battle was fought by General Nie Shicheng's troops (approximately 2 bayonets), defending Mount Huershan. Unable to receive reinforcements, the general dug in two of his guns and retreated. Chinese counterattacks were ineffective, and the army retreated to Fenghuangcheng, abandoning its artillery and supply trains. This had significant strategic consequences—the army's retreat allowed the Japanese to cut off the roads to Port Arthur.


Battle of Hushan, crossing the Yalu River on a pontoon bridge

The Japanese significantly understated their losses in the Battle of the Yalu: first citing 33 killed and 111 wounded, then lowering it to 4 killed and 140 wounded. Chinese casualty figures are very approximate, so 500 killed and 1000 wounded are commonly cited, but such round figures are unlikely. Especially since the Japanese captured 78 guns and 4395 rifles.


Lieutenant General Yamaji leads the attack on Port Arthur.

After their victory at the Yalu River, the Japanese divided their army: one part attacked Mukden, the other isolated Port Arthur. Meanwhile, General Oyama Iwao's 2nd Army was formed in Japan and landed on the Liaodong Peninsula. The assault on Port Arthur was not difficult for the Japanese: the fortress commandant fled with the military treasury, and many officials and officers also fled. There were plenty of traitors among those who remained. Discipline collapsed, looting and pillaging began, and there was no one to organize a resistance. The assault began on November 21, and by midday the Japanese were already at the forts covering the fortress from the north, and by evening at the eastern coastal batteries. By November 22, the city and fortress were in Japanese hands.

And so the massacre began! The Japanese killed both prisoners and civilians; the official death toll was 2000, though the actual number was much higher. Of the city's entire population, only 36 remained, whom the Japanese painted "corpse carrier" on their hats and spared. The fall of Port Arthur led to the fall of Li Hongzhang, who was demoted and removed from all his posts. Empress Dowager Cixi, who had recently spent 10 million liang on her birthday celebration, blamed the shame of the defeat on the old general. In January 1895, an official delegation was sent to negotiate peace. But the Japanese had not yet received everything they wanted, so the negotiations were broken off at their own initiative.


General Song Qing

The Japanese faced the road to Mukden, the former "sacred capital" of the Manchus. The Qing Dynasty had no intention of surrendering the city without a fight. Provincial armies were assembled from all over China—untrained, poorly armed, but numerous. Liu Hongzhang was replaced by Liu Kunyi, assisted by Song Qing and Wu Dacheng. Fierce fighting in the Liaohe River valley began despite the bitter January frosts and lasted until March. Simultaneously, two divisions were transferred by sea from the Liaodong Peninsula to Weihaiwei. The naval base was captured in nine days. The fighting was fierce, the doomed fortress was bombarded by siege batteries, and the harbor boom was destroyed, opening the way for Japanese destroyers. They torpedoed several ships, including Ding Rucheng's flagship, the battleship Dingyuan, which had survived the Battle of Yalu.


Admiral Ito

The admiral ordered a breakout to sea and the sinking of the fleet to prevent it from falling into Japanese hands. This order led to a mutiny. On February 12, 1895, Ding Rucheng negotiated with Vice Admiral Ito. He negotiated a guarantee of immunity for all naval sailors in exchange for a pledge not to blow up port facilities and fortifications. After signing the agreement, Ding Rucheng took a lethal dose of opium. Several Chinese ship commanders also committed suicide. Liu Buchan, commander of the Dingyuan, blew up the ship, claiming it was out of commission and could not be returned intact, and then shot himself in the forehead. On February 14, the Beiyang Fleet was annihilated.


Li Hongzhang

Panic broke out in Beijing, the troops' morale was broken, and General Nozu's army marched through China like a knife through butter. On March 30, an armistice was declared in Manchuria. Only in Manchuria, as the Japanese had already decided to abandon Taiwan and the Pescadores Islands. This was the reason why the negotiations were delayed. An assassination attempt was made on the head of the Chinese delegation, Li Huangzhang—he was shot in the cheek, which left him speechless for 10 days. On April 17, the Treaty of Shimonoseki was signed. It was particularly humiliating for China, as it was not a European country that forced it to sign, but the "eastern dwarfs," as the Japanese were called in China. Under the treaty, China lost the Liaodong Peninsula, Taiwan, and the Pescadores Islands.


Reforms should not be half-hearted...

Such insolence by the Japanese, who had themselves recently been "discovered" with cannon fire, provoked a harsh reaction from Russia, France, and Germany, who forced Emperor Meiji to renounce the Liaodong Peninsula but accept increased indemnities. This became the prelude to other wars unrelated to this story. Meanwhile, China was heading irresistibly toward revolution. The Qing Dynasty was unpopular, but the Manchus at least had a reputation as fine warriors. This reputation, it turned out, was greatly inflated. Victory for the Japanese was brought about by a more radical Europeanization of the country. It's not that reforms were not carried out in China, but they were partial: while purchasing new weapons, laying telegraph lines, and building railways, the Manchus were unable to abandon internal customs, the feudal privileges of the elite, and their arrogant disregard for the achievements of foreigners. These mistakes came at a price, but the supporters of old China have yet to fight their final and decisive battle...
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  1. +4
    11 October 2025 04: 36
    Thank you! Nothing changes in time and space: woe to the vanquished. Only the scenery is different.
  2. +2
    11 October 2025 05: 05
    The image, captioned "Reforms must not be half-hearted...," is touching. A Japanese man attempts a two-handed technique against a barefoot Chinese man with a naginata. But the Japanese man doesn't wield a katana or tachi, with which this technique would be perfectly appropriate, but a European saber with a guard. And judging by the style, the artist is also Japanese.
    1. +4
      11 October 2025 07: 00
      with a naginata
      Let me correct you. It's not a naginata, it's a yanyuedao.
      1. 0
        11 October 2025 07: 08
        To be honest, I'm not particularly good at Japanese edged weapons either, there are just too many variations. And I'm completely clueless about Chinese, so I used the closest name I could find. Given my limited knowledge, the choice was between the Japanese "naginata" and the European "glaive." I decided Japan was geographically closer.
        So thanks for the clarification.hi
    2. +5
      11 October 2025 08: 37
      Good morning! You're mistaken: the Japanese have a katana! It's just that Japanese officers were forbidden from carrying a traditional sword, so they took a gamble—they slapped a pseudo-European hilt with a bow onto their grandfather's tachi. But this hilt was also two-handed! As the engraving demonstrates.
      1. 0
        11 October 2025 18: 50
        But this detail is very curious and little known, at least I’m hearing about it for the first time. good hi drinks
        The ban seems illogical, but perhaps reforms are not carried out any other way. It was not for nothing that Peter chopped off beards and cut the hems of his caftans with sheepskin shears. This gives new meaning to the caption under the image, "Reforms must not be half-hearted..."lol
    3. +1
      11 October 2025 10: 54
      And judging by the style, the artist is also Japanese.

      Absolutely. The distinctively outstretched leg. During the Russo-Japanese War, the Japanese drew similar posters. This one, for example, shows Imperial Guard Private Ohashi Keikishi beating hapless Russians with a rifle butt.
  3. +3
    11 October 2025 07: 20
    He negotiated a guarantee of immunity for all naval sailors, in exchange for pledging not to blow up port facilities and fortifications. After signing the treaty, Ding Rucheng took a lethal dose of opium.
    Well then! It was a worthy act, and the man was noble. The sailors would have been killed anyway, but this leader spared their lives.
    1. +4
      11 October 2025 08: 39
      The Japanese's subsequent treatment of captured Chinese leaves no doubt—the crews would have been slaughtered! So yes, it's no wonder they erect monuments to Ding Ruchang in China; he did what he could...
      1. +2
        11 October 2025 08: 59
        To be fair, they didn’t stand on ceremony with our merchant seamen either, especially in 1941-44.
        "On December 17, 1941, Japanese aircraft repeatedly attacked the transport Perekop (Captain A.A. Demidov) and ultimately sank it while en route from Vladivostok to the port of Surabaya (Java Island). It was impossible to mistake the nationality of the vessel, since the Perekop was sailing under the State Flag of the USSR. During the air raid, boatswain M.P. Sokolov, senior engineer A.K. Zorin, seaman Motavinsky, stokers I.E. Reva and S.P. Agarkov were killed, and many were wounded. The vessel began to sink, and the sailors ended up in the water. When the Soviet sailors were already in the water, Japanese pilots continued to fire at them with machine guns. As a result, engineer A.M. Budoyan, stokers I.A. Antipko and B.A. Stavrin were killed." This is just one case, but there were many such cases in the Far East.
        1. +4
          11 October 2025 09: 04
          By World War II, they were no longer standing on ceremony, but during the Russo-Japanese War, they still tried to portray themselves as civilized people. However, this only applied to Europeans; this didn't extend to the Chinese from the very beginning...
        2. +2
          11 October 2025 11: 10
          It was impossible to mistake the nationality of the vessel

          It's quite possible. There have been cases where Soviet ships were sunk by the Americans. :((
          "Angarstroy" was destroyed on May 1, 1942 in the East China Sea by the American submarine SS-210 "Grenadier". "Kola" and "Ilmen" were sunk in the Pacific Ocean on February 16 and 17, 1943 by the submarine SS-276 "Sofish". Seiner # 20 was lost in the Sea of ​​Japan on July 9, 1943, by torpedoes from SS-178 "Permit". "Belorussia" was sent to the bottom of the Sea of ​​Okhotsk on March 3, 1944, by the submarine SS-381 "Sand Lance". The "Ob" sank in the Sea of ​​Okhotsk on July 6, 1944, as a result of an attack by the US Navy submarine SS-281 "Sunfish". On June 13, 1945, in the Sea of ​​Japan, the Transbalt encountered and sank the American submarine SS-411 Spidefish.

          This is just one case, but there were many such cases in the Far East.

          Three.
          The dry cargo ship Perekop in the South China Sea and the tanker Maikop off the coast of the Philippines were also destroyed by Japanese air strikes in December 41. The dry cargo ship Mikoyan was torpedoed on October 3, 1942, in the Bay of Bengal by the Japanese submarine I-162.

          According to the reference book "Vessels of the Ministry of the Navy Perished During the Great Patriotic War of 1941-1945" (Moscow, 1989), 23 Soviet ships perished in the Pacific Ocean and adjacent seas. Nine of them were driven onto rocks by storms, crushed by ice, blown up by their own mines, and so on, while 14 were destroyed by the Japanese and... the Americans.

          The confusion during the war has not been abolished :((...
  4. +4
    11 October 2025 10: 48
    Japanese 8-inch shells

    I wonder where they came from?))
    The Japanese cruisers of the "flying squadron" did not have a single 8" gun.
    1. +2
      11 October 2025 16: 10
      It is possible that the Chinese identified the holes from the 260mm guns as from 8-inch guns.
  5. 0
    11 October 2025 12: 42
    Zaibatsu "Mitsui", "Mitsubishi", "Sumimoto»

    It's so easy to get this Asian thing wrong... Vo Ruviki:
    The four major zaibatsu trace their history back to the Edo period: Mitsubishi (三菱), Mitsui (三井), Sumitomo (住友), and Yasuda (安田).
  6. 0
    11 October 2025 12: 47
    A detachment of government troops, equipped with a 75mm Krupp gun and a Gatling gun, moved in to suppress the rebels. This gave the rebels modern artillery.
    good good good
  7. +4
    11 October 2025 14: 19
    Interesting article, thank you.

    And the shooting of Chinese soldiers in the water had no consequences: the Japanese were forgiven! The attitude toward the Chinese and dogs at that time was roughly the same.

    The shooting of the Chinese was indeed forgiven, but the sinking of the Coshing was not. Lord Kimberley demanded an investigation into the destruction of the British transport. As a result of this investigation, the Mikado government agreed to pay $750,000, both for the loss of the vessel and as compensation to the families of the Europeans who suffered in the destruction. The British also acknowledged the veracity of the Japanese officers' reports.
    It is clear that no one remembered the Chinese.
  8. +3
    11 October 2025 19: 15
    Medal for the Sino-Japanese War of 1894-1895

    The Japanese Imperial Decree establishing the "Military Medal of 1894-1895" was signed by the Emperor on October 8, 1895.

    The metal used for the medal was bronze from captured Chinese cannons (allegedly manufactured in the United States). In July and August 1895, 53 captured bronze cannons were delivered to the Osaka Mint, from which 105,000 medals were made.

    The obverse depicts an army regimental standard crossed by a naval ensign, above which is an imperial chrysanthemum. The bar across the ribbon was left blank, but was retained to maintain a degree of similarity with the earlier military medal of 1874. In the center of the reverse is the inscription 従軍記章 (종군기장), "Military Medal," and along the outer edge is 明治二十七八年, "Meiji 27-28" (1894-95).

    The 1894-95 medal was also the first Japanese military medal to feature hook and eye fastenings on the reverse side of the ribbon. Yes
  9. 0
    14 October 2025 22: 22
    And thank you so much for this article! You have a wonderful writing style! Whenever I have free time, I reread all your articles. Interesting and informative – thank you!