Japan's Longest Day (The Pacific War Research Society)

This book is about the events that took place in Tokyo twenty four hours before the then Emperor Hirohito's voice came over the Japanese airwaves proclaiming Japan's acceptance of the Potsdam Declaration and to admonish the Japanese people to 'suffer what is unsufferable'. Little did we know that the whole effort almost did not come to fruition because there were elements within the Japanese Imperial Army that were absolutely opposed to the idea of surrender and would rather see Japan totally destroyed. This book, written by a group of Japanese historians went into the details of what various parties were doing in that twenty four hours, hour by hour.

The book itself is short, and written more like a suspense thriller than a record of history. This makes it easy to read and for me, a hard one to put down. Originally published in Japanese, the translation was admirably done, given that I could still detect the sentimental way of writing in parts of the book. What makes this book successful is how, in the short length and easy style, it makes the reader reflect on the complex nature of the Japanese society, language, and psyche.

Japan, by then, was already reduced to a country with its major cities destroyed, even if not by the atomic bomb, then by the fire bombs. Her people have little, if anything to eat; many do not have shelter and everyone is hoping for the whole war to end. Yet throughout the book, one does not get the sense that anyone has given any thoughts to their plight, those who wanted to hold out cared only about indulging in their spirit to never surrender. Those who counseled accepting the Potsdam Declaration might have wanted to end the suffering, but it was not explicit that this was the main motivation. Rather, it appeared that they wanted to do it because that was the Emperor's wish.

If there was uncertainty among the Allies about what Japan would do, the same could be said about the Japanese themselves. The only institution capable of putting in place the conditions to accept the Potsdam Declaration or to derail it was the army. While it can be argued that the Emperor was the one who made the ultimate call, few had access to him, the common Japanese certainly did not. And so among the ranks of the army, everyone was unsure if a surrender had indeed been ordered. This uncertainty was surely aggravated by the multi-layered Japanese language. Take for example the description of the conversation between the then War Minister and his brother-in-law, one of those who thought Japan should not surrender (pg 113)

Anami paused. His brother-in-law, Lieutenant Colonel Takeshita, raised his downcast eyes. Anami ought to have said, “We officers - ” and the fact that he did not convince Takeshita that Anami had also not reached a final decision.

And so everyone tried to second-guess each other, and it gave the conspirators the opportunity to swing people's opinion in their favour.

But the wildcard was Anami. Japan had a Supreme War Council made up of the Prime Minister Admiral Kantarō Suzuki, the Minister of Foreign Affairs Shigenori Tōgō, the Minister of War General Korechika Anami, the Minister of the Navy Admiral Mitsumasa Yonai, the Chief of the Army General Staff, General Yoshijirō Umezu, and the Chief of the Navy General Staff Admiral Soemu Toyoda. If the War Minister was to lean towards one direction, it is not hard to imagine where the other three associated with the war machinery would lean too. Although in this instance the Minister of the Navy thought it better to accept the Potsdam Declaration, all Anami had to do was to resign and the others would have to fall in line. The decision would then have to be put off again, whatever the Emperor wished.

It was fortunate that Anami held it together despite his initial reluctance, but there were a few who were important enough in the hierarchy of the army to dissent, and were ready to stage a coup d'état to that end. While it was not one which would succeed, at some point it did come close. Part of their plan called for the internment of the Emperor himself in the palace, which only emphasized the irony that they were the Imperial Guards. At that stage when Anami was already prepared to take his own life and could no longer care about what was going on, it was left to General Shizuichi Tanaka, commander of the Eastern District Army to put the rebellion down.

Perhaps the most vivid way to represent this story is to quote this small section from page 238 of the book:

The War Minister’s official residence was one corner of a triangle in the center of which stood the Imperial Palace. The other two corners were headquarters of the First Imperial Guards Division and headquarters of the Eastern District Army.

The interplay between the three most important parties in the last twenty four hours before Japan officially surrendered was captured thus, all going after the prize, right in the centroid of this triangle. That is why I said that there is something poetic about how Japanese writing. More however, is their description of what became of the attempted rebellion, epitomised by what happened to the two most fanatical leaders (pg 324):

The two offices (Major Hatanaka and Lieutenant Colonel Shiizaki) thrust their declaration into the hands of the passers-by – but the latter did not pause; they passed by.

I am surprise that this book has not gotten more attention than it did among World War II enthusiasts. The surrender of the Japanese was more complex than the dropping of the two atomic bombs, more than the pouring of the Russian forces across the Manchurian border, it almost did not happen the way it did. Was there another atomic bomb to drop to convince the Japanese that more would come if they did not immediately surrender unconditionally? What then? The Japanese almost tripped themselves up with their brand of nuance (language and culture) and their code of honour (which easily led to fanaticism). It was to the credit of the Allies that while the Japanese Imperial War Council was squabbling amongst themselves, bombing was withheld, which though not explained in the book, showed patience on the part of the Allies. Continued bombing might just allow the rebels to convince others that they should go on fighting in order not to fall into the hands of the 'ruthless enemies'.

Reading a book like this would give those making the decisions a reason to pause and to reconsider their next steps. And perhaps more of us should.

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Singapore Burning (Colin Smith)

Many books on the Malayan Campaign tend to use 'Singapore' in part of the title rather than 'Malayan' (compare the number of books listed under the search string 'fall of Singapore' to that under 'Malayan campaign' in Goodreads). The fact is the fighting in the Malayan Peninsula lasted 55 days and that in Singapore no more than a week. But it could be that Singapore was given the rather undeserving title of a fortress that made its fall all the more dramatic. Still, reading books on this campaign, one gets the distinct feeling that the word 'Singapore' is something of a misnomer. It is no different in this book of 560 pages, of which perhaps only the last 100 were on the fighting in Singapore itself.

Hair-splitting aside, this book is an invaluable one for anyone who wants to learn about the Malayan Campaign. That it is well-researched cannot be disputed, one only needs to look at the amount of references at the end of the book to know. What is more challenging is to organise this amount of information and facts and to write it in such a way that would keep the reader going. This, the author did admirably. While the beginning of the book is a little slow because it was more a description of the expatriates' life in Singapore, this part of the book is important for it sets the context and contrast that would come later. Once the reader gets through it, the action starts, and it would not stop until the end of the book.

Some events were given more detailed treatment than others and rightly so. The part on the sinking of the Prince of Wales and the Repulse was most heart-wrenching; the description of the aftermath of Parit Sulong made one seethe with hate. The all-too-few successes against the Japanese gave some reprieve and consolation to the fighting Commonwealth soldiers and also to this reader (pg 243); the inaction and lost opportunities left the reader holding his head in despair <I really want to include this one on pg 311: The fate that anticipated for these sitting ducks (Japanese soldiers) is not hard to imagine. Nothing happened.> The footnotes, thrown sparingly about the book played an equally important role, take for example the one on how 'missing' in North Africa often meant taken prisoner but in Malaya really meant 'missing' (pg 403). Not only does it paint the picture of the terrain for the reader, it even reminded me of how we got lost in our own small jungle during national service.

Like other books on this campaign, the author asked the important question - whose fault was it? Had one started reading this book keeping this question in view, he would be brought along the whole campaign changing his mind several times. The author did not state his views explicitly but gave a good summary of the possible factors on page 484. However, whether by accident or by design, these were all just before General Gordon Bennett put the 8th Australian Division into action defending Singapore. The calamity that followed and the description of the almost zombie-like deserters following that gave a hint as to what he thought. But then there was also this oblique reference that could easily escape one's notice: this Indian lady by the name of Lakshmi Swaminadhan was featured in Chapter 2, early in the book, and then the book ended with a mention of the INA. Could that be what the author attributes to the defeat of the British/Australian forces?

All in all, a very informative and entertaining book which I highly recommend. While some may complain about the amount of details, I think the casual reader does not have to remember all the regiments and battalions that were engaged in the theatre. Those who are want to know more will find their interest well-served.

(P.S. Lee Kwan Yew was Singapore's Prime Minister, not President as said on page 550.)

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These are some additional thoughts that I have as a Singaporean reading this book.

The Second World War is 70 years past, but it is not that long ago that only through one's imagination could we go back to see what it was like. For one thing, photography and even videography have preserved much real-life images for us. Then there are the many artifacts that are still around. Most of all, Singapore is but a small place, and the names of places have not changed all that much. Changi Camp is no more than 3 kilometres away from where I stay, Bukit Timah is still very much there, even Muar and Batu Pahat in Malaysia are familiar places where I visited as a child. I just didn't know that these were important landmarks in the campaign and it's aftermath. I think I cannot see these places in the same light again.

General Tomoyuki Yamashita, the commander of the forces in the campaign eventually surrendered to the Americans in the Philippines. That the Japanese army committed great atrocities to the Commonwealth soldiers and the civilians is beyond doubt. What is more tricky is determining to what extent the commanding officers are responsible for these atrocities. I do not intent to discuss this here, but perhaps this book which I intend to read may provide some answers. There is another officer in the Japanese army whom many Chinese consider to be more guilty - Masanobu Tsuji. He even wrote a book on this campaign which might be worth reading. According to a documentary I watched, wherever he went, a massacre would follow; he was never brought to justice in any tribunal.

Finally there is still the issue of who lost Singapore. Scholars will no doubt continue to try and assign blame for years to come. But the Commonwealth soldiers, as individuals, suffered in one way or another, many others died, all have no reason for themselves to be here. Would it be of value even if we eventually were able to pin the blame precisely on any one group of them? I have no such interest, I just wonder what would be more appropriate for me to say to the many who did not manage to go home, when I visit the Kranji Memorial - 'Thank you' or 'Sorry'?

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永遠の0 (山崎貴 Director, 百田尚樹 Author)

This is a review of the movie, not the original novel on which the movie was based.

The Zero Fighter was a very successful fighter used by the Japanese in the Second World War. In this moive a pair of siblings went in search of their maternal grandfather's story after their grandmother passed away. They knew that their grandfather was a pilot in the war and was killed in 1945, they didn't know that he was one of the finest and was eventually killed in a Kamikaze mission.

The movie did not portray the difficult task of tracking down surviving and living comrades, instead it focused on the inconsistent story that was given by the ones whom they were able to interview. Not a few referred to him as a coward, avoiding action if he could, trying all ways to live while they were supposed to be ever-prepared to die for their country and their emperor. Later, as a trainer in flight school, he would fail his students so that they never got a chance to get into action. But then there were those who said that they were alive because of him, who thought he was brave, and even refused to talk to the siblings because they dared to ask if their grandfather was a coward.

In their search for their truth about their grandfather, the audience is treated to reasonably good CGI portraying Zeros in action and recreated Japanese and American carriers, a quick introduction to the battles in the Pacific, and most of all, war as seen from the eyes from the Japanese soldiers. But for a movie that spans more than two generations, the audience is invited to reflect on the difference between the socio-political situation in Japan in these two periods.

First of all, was Kentaro's grandfather a coward as described by some of those who have served with him? For a naval pilot serving the Emperor, death should be 'as light as feather', and yet we have one who tried all ways to live, not because he feared death, but because he knew that his family would need him at the end of the war; after all, the war was lost. Yet it is precisely this determination to live in that climate that led others concede that he was brave later.

The newer generation of Japanese by contrast, appeared to be rather indifferent to the war, their own national education not withstanding. They found discussion about the war either too 'deep' or irrelevant, comparing the Kamikaze pilots to terrorists who flew their planes into the World Trade Center in New York. They prefer to spend their good life and money on chasing girls.

But perhaps the most captivating of the movie was the self-destruction of the protagonist (the grandfather), Myuzo Miyabe, who while determined to live could eventually not bring himself to do it anymore. As an escort for the Kamikaze planes, he witnessed over and again the futility of their mission by the end of the war. The planes were not even able to get close to their targets before they were roundly destroyed. It is one thing for the planes to go to waste, it is quite another for the young lives to be lost so pointlessly. But the paradox is that the more you witness the destruction, therefore learning of the futility of the whole idea, the more you can't live with yourself for being the one to escape death time and again. The pilots you were supposed to protect were not protected, in fact, they didn't stand a chance.

With the current rise of Nationalistic feelings in Japan, many would look at a movie with such a title another attempt at propaganda. I urge audience to suspend judgement until they have watched the movie. It surely hasn't glorified Japan's experience in the war or make themselves out to be the victim of the atomic bombs. It gave fairly equal treatment to Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor and defeat at the Battle of Midway. But most of all, it gave us a chance to know the few who did not buy into death being as light as feather, and how those who have lived viewed that time after 70 years.

Winston's War: Churchill, 1940-1945 (Sir Max Hastings)

This is the first book I have read about Sir Winston Churchill and I'm glad to have picked one written by Sir Max Hastings, another first. Sir Hastings is British, and many would expect him to therefore have a great command of the language, but not all British can write like him. His arsenal of vocabulary and elements of the language is impeccable. He was able to summon the right words and phrase them in ways that express precisely what he was trying to convey. It was not only on the one or two occasions when you would see the gems, it was peppered throughout the book. But I could have been too easily impressed, not being a native speaker.


Most readers probably knew Winston Churchill as the Prime Minister of Great Britain in the Second World War despite his service to the nation prior to and after that. For that reason, this book that focuses only on his years as Prime Minister is a good first book to read about him before moving on to other more comprehensive biographies. Instead of just the events, the author showed how the fortunes of the man rose as he led Britain as the sole nation to stand up against Hitler and fell as he found himself losing influence over the conduct of the war once the Americans entered the war and the Russians' fortune took a turn for the better.

The Americans' involvement in the war was featured throughout the second half of the book and it was important because the depth of America's involvement in the Second World War was in direct proportion to the decline in Churchill's influence over its conduct. One cannot help feeling a little indignant over the American's handling of their allies; it is easy to feel that when the British were suffering alone (and at one point was on the brink), the US was dragging its feet and seemed almost ready to let Britain meet its 'fate' in the hands of Hitler, and yet once they themselves were attacked, they were almost reckless in wanting to bring retribution to their enemies. But this narrative would be simplistic. The US is a huge country, and huge countries have huge buffers to shield them from what is happening around the world, even the eastern side of the country is rather different from its west, it is therefore hard to feel the urgency of things happening across the Atlantic. On top of that, the democratic system in the US probably mean that as much as the President himself wanted to enter the war, he would be up against many opponents.

I always put the US' involvement in Europe against the backdrop of the 'Europe first' policy. Japan was the one that violated the US, not the Germans, even though Hitler perplexingly declared war against the US after Pearl Harbor, a sneak attack by an ally for which he received no prior notification. Selling the 'Europe first' policy to Americans in general would have been hard when it was Japan that they wanted to go after, and yet the Americans were persuaded. For that, Americans deserve credit.

The portrayal of Stalin was more straightforward, although there was nothing straightforward about him. Desperate at first, he emerged the master of realpolitik as his own army prevailed over the Germans. His treatment of Churchill was harsh, not in the sense of being rude, but he knew exactly how to 'play' with Churchill. He probably had respect for Churchill in recognising that if anyone, Churchill could see through his own designs on Eastern Europe after the war. But he knew that Churchill had no chips with which to bargain and so would not be able to do anything about it. So he just led Churchill along, giving some hope whenever it suits him, and needling Churchill when he felt like it. I doubt Stalin had more respect for Roosevelt, he probably respected the US' industrial and therefore military might, but at the same time he was cordial with Roosevelt because he thought Roosevelt was not able to see through his ploy and was too idealistic in believing that post-war, countries would behave civilly.

The British lost a part of their empire to the Japanese in South East Asia, together with that a huge number of men (British and soldiers of the Commonwealth), materiel, and even the Prince of Wales. Yet Asia got just but a cursory treatment in the book. I do not think this is a deliberate omission on the part of Sir Hastings, rather I think it reflected the actual sentiments prevailing in Britain then. The enemies were at the gates of the home islands, and even though they did not manage to break through, the British suffered years of uncertainty, deprivation, humiliation, and endured many nights of German bombing. The war almost bankrupt the country and the people were weary, how would some faraway land matter? Sadly, if they prevailed over the Germans, they surrendered their initiatives in the colonies. It would be hard, if not impossible, to hold on to them when most British no longer wish to anyway.

It is hard not to like Sir Winston Churchill. People who worked for him had sometimes been harshly treated, but even they grew to like him. Although we can point to his rather unenlightened attitude towards imperialism, his magnanimity towards the vanquished (and even the French), his unselfish fight for the Poles, alone against Stalin, was really moving. Unfortunately, recognition of his tremendous qualities as a war leader does not automatically confer him another term as prime minister in a parliamentarian system. In his case it was not even because his party could not field enough good MPs to win over their constituencies, the electorate had comprehensively rejected him sensing his lack of interest in running the country as a peace-time prime minister.

At the end of the book Churchill was in the wild, very much alone, like how he was shown on the cover of the Vintage edition. Sir Alan Brooke wrote: ' It was a relief to get Winston home safely...I honestly believe that he would really have liked to be killed on the front at this moment of success." I do not know how to feel about this, there was a part of me that felt that this might just be the most fitting way and time to go. But then, how could I?

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张学良与日本 （臼井勝美/陈鹏仁）

This book was originally published in Japanese coming out of a documentary that NHK made about Zhang Xueliang (张学良), also known as the Young Marshal. Zhang was the son of Zhang Zhuolin (张作霖） the warlord from the northeastern provinces of China. His life was a fascinating one but he was most well-known for the Xi'an Incident (西安事变) where he and his associates abducted Chiang Kaishek and forced him to stop the pursuit of the Communists and instead work with them to fight the Japanese who at that time had occupied Manchuria and had declared it an "independent" country called Manchukuo.

As mentioned, this book was written from the materials and interviews made for the documentary on Zhang and reads exactly like that. While the author had access to Zhang, this book is not a collection of her interview with Zhang. In many places it was written almost like a script for a documentary and in other places the author filled it with materials from other sources. In fact there was surprisingly little from the actual interviews and the most disappointing of all, Zhang refused to divulge anything on what happened in the Xi'an Incident. And honestly, he  had kept his mouth tightly shut about the most important details of the negotiations between Zhou Enlai and Chiang Kaishek in the years after that.

However if one is looking for a source that is easy to read to get all the facts of Zhang's life, this book would be a good reference. It is not one that gives the reader an in-depth understanding of the events because it lacks the analyses of the various events and therefore ended up looking a little disjointed and lacking a central thesis. But to be fair, the author never meant for this book to be one of an analysis of Zhang or any events associated with him, it is simply a documentary turned into a book.

I know of Zhang in my earlier readings but did not find out more about him. If this book has done anything for me, it has piqued my interest in him and he being young in those tumultuous years actually lived long enough to entertain a few video-recorded interviews that are available on YouTube (they are in Chinese though). His history has been presented in almost opposite ways in China and Taiwan. With this book as a start I hope to find out more about him and come to my own assessment of him.

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The Best And The Brightest (David Halberstam)

This book features almost all the people who had a hand in the decision on the US’ involvement in Vietnam. There was no question that these were the best and the brightest, which all more makes the reader wonders why the US eventually found herself in the quagmire. By the end of the book the reader may still not find the answer, but what he or she will find is a lesson in human folly and how the illusion of superior ability can lead one to arrogance, or perhaps less, over-confidence, but ending in hubris nevertheless.

This book is cleverly structured, the first half featuring one president (and the presidency) and the second half the next. Under this over-arching framework, the author added the layers below the presidents, starting with the national security advisor, secretaries of defense and states, their deputies and assistants, then the chief of staffs, and finally the ambassadors to South Vietnam. In some cases these happen to be the same people who worked across the administrations, in others there were multiples changes. But all the time the message was consistent – these are the most brilliant people, although in different ways. Yet there was no denying that these were the best and the brightest.

And thus the reader is led to ask – why then did the US eventually slipped into the Vietnam War which killed more than 50,000 Americans, severely draining the treasury, divided the country, and lost the country of a lot of its prestige and goodwill? The author did not provide a simplistic answer to this complex question, rather, he showed the mixture of personalities, beliefs, politics, and self-interest that slowly pushes the country deeper and deeper into a situation from which they could not extricate themselves, even after some have changed their minds about the US’ involvement.

At the beginning there were those who did not know what Vietnam was about, besides the unpalatable fact that it was a French colony which the French should quit, but would not. But in view of the need for France’s support in Europe a little sweetener for them in Vietnam is of negligible cost to the US. Then there were those who framed it with cold-war rhetoric of having to stop the spread of Communism in Asia. After “losing” China, it would be unthinkable to let the rest of the dominoes fall. Later it began to look to others like it was a good place to fight a good war. To be sure, there were those who tried to stop the tide and where impossible, to at least retard it. But these were in the minority, their cases always weak and their stance uncoordinated. In the end they were among the earliest casualties, and the author took us up the hierarchy again, only this time showing the sequence of the casualties: the ambassadors, the deputy and assistant secretaries, the secretaries, and ultimately the president himself. Few came out looking good, those who escaped rather unscathed politically would look unprincipled in the book.

The author did not just write a book that recorded the events and the decisions, he wrote a book to caution decision makers of all kinds. His message is for people to remember that arrogance has no place even (or especially) among the best and the brightest, for the game will eventually play you. But the biggest chill that the author gave me was not the fact that if the best and the brightest can fall into such a folly what more the lesser beings, it was that it is precisely when you think you have control of the game that you lose control. When you think you have resisted the tide because you managed to not give your opponent all that he wanted, you have actually forgotten what you had to give him in exchange for that. The illusion of being on top of things will lure you into the trap. I think this book should be kept handy, not because it would serve as a reference, but it would serve as a good reminder that even if you think you are the best and the brightest, you can still be catastrophically wrong. And then you would have to live with it.

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Nixon and Kissinger (Robert Dallek)

This book juxtaposes two interesting characters who were similar yet different at the same time. This is not just a biography of two close colleagues but is an attempt to show how their respective tenures weaved together, at times in harmony, giving each other support, yet some times contradicting, coming close to breaking down on some occasions.

Since the gist of the story is about how these two men worked together, the author's effort at keeping the description of the earlier parts of their lives short is greatly appreciated. The bulk of the book rightly centres on the time of the Nixon presidency, when the two men worked closely together.

The author managed to present a picture of two men working together who were at once very similar in nature to each other but ended up with very different reputations. They needed each other yet at the same time tried to outdo one another. They served the same administration yet were almost at odds with each other on a number of foreign policy issues. They were each other's best friends yet had palpable disdain for each other, with Kissinger calling Nixon the meanest of names (pg 93) while Nixon showing that he was rightly deserving of them through the perverse pleasure he took in distressing Kissinger (pg 288). Such is the skill of the author in crafting a story filled with intriguing personalities and complicated relationships. In the end one could not help wondering about the complexities of Whitehouse relationships.

Both Nixon and Kissinger didn't come out looking very well. Nixon looked like a manipulating, crude, and insecure guy who constantly needed reassurance and reaffirmation about what he was doing. Kissinger on the other hand was egoistic, narcissistic, calculating and self-serving. But both would provide what the other needed: Kissinger was always ready to help Nixon smoke his own dope, giving superlative praises in spades, while Nixon gave Kissinger the opportunities (no matter how unwillingly) to play his role as the super-star of foreign policy. And when things did not work out, they could always resort to threats which they would not carry out, Kissinger on resigning his position, and Nixon on cancelling the summits with various world leaders. Nixon however came out looking slightly worse because of his readiness to resort to "dirty tricks" (pg 186), even as early as MyLai. In the end he would be brought down by one of these and gained the inglorious reputation of being the first (and only) president in the US to resign. In the last two chapters when Watergate was catching up with Nixon, the author portrayed a guy who always seemed to be on the verge of breakdown, and that was where the paths of Nixon and Kissinger diverged. One became almost maniacal, while the other went on to the peak of his reputation as a man who brought peace to the Middle East. It was almost painful to read, but the contrast between their fates only heighten the drama near the end.

This is the second book of Dallek's that I've read, and both I did not enjoy. It was not that he was a bad writer, but I just didn't take to his style. There was no occasion where I found the author's grammar wanting, I think it has more to do with his rather dry style that does not help the story to flow. Also, in this book he quoted Ambrose a lot, giving one the impression that it was the only source that he consulted, but what grated me more was his habit of quoting conversations wholesale, something that he also did in the earlier book that I read. Too much of this makes me feel that he has not analysed his subjects enough.

One also wonders about the approach taken by the author in terms of portraying the characters. Does trying to be fair and impartial equate to ensuring that the subjects are seen in a poor light? We all know what happened with Nixon, but I could hardly find anything in the book that spoke well of him. I am not much of a Nixon fan, but I do not think that he has almost no redeeming features. Kissinger looked better in comparison, but only slightly, and that was because he was put in contrast to Nixon in the last days of the presidency. I think I would not judge this book a fair account of either man, just as one praising the subjects is not necessarily biased.

Finally I would like to talk about a couple of points that I reflected upon as I read the book. Firstly, the elections in the US has a huge impact on policy decision-making. Although I believe this to be true in other democratic countries, what was unfortunate in this case was its impact on the decisions relating to the Vietnam War. Some decisions were purposely delayed because of the election in order to achieve some political optics. These delays caused many American and Vietnamese lives to be lost. While it is easy to put the blame on the politicians, we the electorate should perhaps ask if our way of looking at politicians' behaviours and our inability to comprehend complex issues have led to them needing to 'manipulate' us by presenting the best possible facade.

Secondly, no matter what relationship one has with his/her boss, one should never try to look better than the boss. No bosses like to look less able than their subordinates. Being a deputy is therefore much more challenging than being the boss in some sense; you do not want to look stupid, yet you cannot look smarter than your boss. On occasions Kissinger let his narcissism get the better of him, inccuring Nixon's wrath.

I am no Nixon/Kissinger specialist and do not intent to be one. For a superficial understanding of these two men and their relationship, this book suffices. I suspect that it is positioned as one to fill the gap in the literature of these two men by exploring the complex constructive and yet amazingly self-serving relationship between two of the most important men during the cold war era. For that reason, this is one book that may be of interest to those wanting to know more about how these two men have worked together during their time.

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Nomonhan 1939 (Stuart D. Goldman)

To most, WW2 started on 1 September 1939 with Germany's invasion of Poland. However Japan's involvement in WW2 is considered to only start on 7 December 1941 after they attacked Pearl Harbor. Yet the Japanese had been fighting for years in a more regional war in China because of their annexation of Manchuria. It wasn't only the Chinese they were fighting though, because of the unclear boundaries between what was then Manchukuo and Mongolia, the Japanese ended up also fighting a 'limited' war with the Russians. A serious one occured just before WW2 started in Europe, between May and August 1939 in a place known as Nomonhan to the Japanese, or Khalkhin Gol to the Russians.

This book by Prof. Stuart D. Goldman describes this relatively unknown incident called the Nomonhan Incident (or the Battle of Khalkhin Gol). But more than just describing the incident, the author put forth an important thesis: this battle, while relative small compared to others yet to come, and confined to a tiny, obscure area in the plains of faraway Mongolia, had a profound impact on how WW2 eventually developed. In particular it was because of this battle that Japan became convinced that they should avoid another conflict with Soviet Union, giving more force to those who argued that they should go down south for the resources that they need. And to prevent the US from intervening, they had to destroy the US fleet in Pearl Harbor, the rest, we all know.

The author developed his argument by taking the reader down two tracks. The first being the history associated with the Kwantung Army leading to the border disputes with the Russians. The second is the global context, setting out what was happening in other parts of the world (especially in Europe) and situating this incident within that larger context. With these in place, the author then explained first why the conflict took place and then how it led to subsequent developments in WW2.

Following the first track, besides the history related to the formation of the Kwantung Army, which was informative in itself, the author took pains to explain the concept of Gekokujo (下克上, literally "lower level overcoming upper level") which has been associated with the Japanese Army (less the Navy) and most frequently with the Kwantung Army. This is a strange concept that, as far as I know, is only present in the Japanese Army where mid-ranking officers either manipulated or openly defied their senior officers' commands to do what they wanted. The further away they were from the central command in Tokyo, the worse the transgressions. The author showed with many examples how this manifested itself in the Kwantung Army.

Further to their tendency to exhibit Gekokujo, they also had a sense of invulnerability which was heightened by their perception that the Russians were weak. And at one point indeed they appeared to be (pg 17). This together with the ineffective commands from Tokyo that the Kwantung Army commanders were determined to ignore, and the purposely vague border protection policies issued by the Kwantung Army commanders (pg 89) made for an inevitable showdown with the Russians - the question is what would the Russians do?

By way of introducing the Changkufeng Incident a year before the Nomonhan Incident, the author explained to the readers that the Russians probably felt that the time had come to put their foot down in their dealings with the Japanese, especially with the Kwantung Army. When the Japanese acted against the Mongolians (the allies of the Russians) in Nomonhan in 1939, the Russians decided that they had to teach the Japanese a lesson. The story then went on to describe in good details about the campaigns that took place in that period of  four months, at an exciting pace for a scholarly work. More importantly, throughout the description, the author kept an eye on Stalin's responses and decisions, which in contrast to the Japanese's perspective, was wide in its geopolitical considerations. And who can blame him, for the Soviet Union spanned both Europe and Asia and could find herself potentially fighting a two-front war which Stalin was determined to avoid.

The Japanese had no such worries, although they should. While arguably in the same theatre, 1939 was also when Japan was beginning to be caught in the quagmire in China. So while the Tokyo wanted to play down the Nomonhan Incident, the Kwantung Army would have none of it. But in an almost ridiculous fashion, the Kwantung Army could be so compelling that even Tokyo went along with them despite an Imperial Order.

General Nakajima, deputy chief of AGS (Army General Staff), flew to Hsinking with Imperial Order 343, commanding Kwantung Army to hold its position near the disputed frontier with "minimal strength" to ensure a quick end to hostilities and a prompt diplomatic settlement. But in meeting with Nakajima, the KwAHQ (Kwantung Army HQ) Staff, led by the Operations Sections, clung passionately to its convictions. Incredibly, Nakajima was won over by the staff's fervent spirit and gave verbal approval for Kwantung Army's general offensive to begin on September 10. (pg 150)

And so the slaughter on both sides started.

The author paid a reasonable attention to the Russian forces as well, never hiding the fact that their loses were equally appalling and that the incident, while celebrated for the bloody nose it gave to the Japanese, did not come at a small price for the Russians. Particularly enjoyable was to read about Marshall Zhukov who was given the first significant command of his career, coming in the wake of Stalin's purge of his more experienced commanders.

For a book that is no more than 180 pages, persuading readers about his thesis is an ambitious feat for the author. But he succeeded admirably. This is not to say that other scholars could not find reasons to disagree with him as he himself admitted in the Preface but at least in terms of academic rigor and logic, his case was compelling. Although many pieces of his evidence were circumstantial, the use of the dates of various events on the side of the Russians seemed to suggest that Russian reactions to the geopolitical scenario in relation to Germany, Japan and subsequently to Poland hinged much on the Nomonhan Incident and its conclusion.

On the Japanese side according to Colonel Hayashi Saburo, one of the General Staff officers, there was general recognition that they should leave Russia alone and from then on, and should only make their move south (into Southeast Asia).  This compares well with what was said by Japanese Scholar Kazutoshi Handō (半藤一利) in Showa Shi (昭和史), where both Masanobu Tsuji and Takushiro Hattori were said to have decided that "in future, go south." And going south meant going after Pearl Harbor too.

This book is surely a good place to start for those of us wanting to get an introduction to the Nomonhan Incident. But to say that it is but an introductory book is unfair because it comes with a huge amount of information, all organised logically, and presented persuasively.

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Shanghai 1937: Stalingrad on the Yangtze (Peter Harmsen)

Most Chinese take 7 Jul 1937, the day of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident (卢沟桥事变) as the day when China officially went to war with Japan. Immediately after the incident, Chiang Kai-shek found himself out of an excuse to not confront the Japanese on Chinese soil. He decided to make his stand in Shanghai and this book is about that battle, known in the Chinese literature as 淞滬會戰.

At 300 pages, this is a fairly short book by normal standards. The brisk and flowing style adopted by the author made the book an enjoyable read. This book is obviously based on good research and has the merit of showing many good archive pictures. On top of that, it also provides the answer to a question I have had for many years - why do Chinese soldiers that appeared in movies I saw as a child wear German helmets? Does it not make them the bad guys? This book is the only one I have come across that gives a good account of the close relationship between the Chinese government and the Germans, explaining the many German military advisers used by the National Revolutionary Army (NRA) in the 1930s.

The author, Peter Harmsen, is particularly good at articulating scenes of various types (although I suspect that this is helped by my own exposure to the pictures and movies I watched as a child). I would point to two examples, the first one was what went on in the Great World Amusement Centre, taking readers into the place itself, almost helping one to see what various vendors were doing. I thought I could hear the music coming out of the crackling grammaphone. The other, in contrast, was the gruesome fighting scenes of death and destruction. I confess again, that being exposed from young to pictures and movies made of that era has helped me to visualise (maybe inaccurately) what the author described, but that should not take anything away from his ability to attend to the smallest yet important details.

There are however lapses that reduces my enjoyment of the book. The prologue talked about the Xi-an Incident in which Chiang was kidnapped by Zhang Xueliang, the Young Marshal as he was called, in a bid to force Chiang to come to terms with the Communists to fight the Japanese together. For such an important event, I wonder why the author did not mention it by name, and the greater ommission was Zhang Xueliang's name. Yet he would bother to interject his otherwise flowing narrative with stories that seem to come at the wrong time, or which are of no use to the reader. An example of such was the story on Dai Li (pg 145) which interrupted what was an exciting description of the brutal battle that was going on.

The author also made a strange comment on pg 64 about the tragedy of the Black Saturday. This was when the Chinese bombers sent to bomb the Japanese cruiser Izumo dropped their bombs in the most crowded parts of Shanghai instead, killing only Chinese civilians. The author said that 'the tragedy could have been prevented by Japan.' I cannot appreciate the thoughts behind what he said; was he trying to be sarcastic or ironic, or was he really putting the blame on the Japanese? I hope he had not said it.

That said, the perceptive author provided much for a reader to reflect upon.

The first of these was about the city itself. What was Shanghai really like in that era? If there was a 'limited war', I would say that this battle was the most 'limited' insofar as territory is concerned. With Japan's total restrain concerning the International Settlements, one got the surreal sense that the battle could be raging along one side of a fence maiming people indiscriminately, while on the other side, people, safe behind the fences of the International Settlements, watched on. Foreign reporters could still be staying in a five-star hotel that continued to operate as normal.

But 'limited' is also a misnomer in this battle, as with all others involving the Chinese. For Chinese commanders always seemed to believe that there were unlimited Chinese to die. Those frontal attacks against well-entrenched enemies in movies looked like propaganda, only that they were unfortunately accurate (pg 53). No one was called to account for the fiasco of Black Saturday. A captain, who claimed to be involved in it, even gave an interview to the press and tried to explained why it happened (pg 63).

I also could not help noticing that the one thing the that the Chinese Army seemed to consistently do successfully was to withdraw quietly at night from a salient they held in the day. The Japanese sometimes did not even know until days later. The one exception was battle for the Sihang Warehouse where some 425 Chinese soldiers took a last stand against the Japanese. This battle was described very well in the book.

Overall, this book is a good read. Although I have my complaints, these are probably due to my unfair expectations of it being more scholarly when it was written as a 'popular' history book. This book is recommended if for none other reason than there being very few English language works on the war in China during this era.

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Now All Roads Lead to France: The Last Years of Edward Thomas (Matthew Hollis)

This book does not belong to the genre that I normally read, in fact I didn't even know who Edward Thomas was. I bought this book for two reasons: it was in the discount bin in the bookstore, heavily discounted, secondly the artillery pieces on the cover of book misled me somewhat into thinking that this book would be skewed towards WWI action. It was left on my bookshelf for more than a year since I bought it and I only picked it up to read because this is the centennial year of the start of WWI.

 Let me first get my complaints out of the way.

For a book centred on Edward Thomas, he only got the first passing mention on page 14 and it was not only until Page 16 when the story started to centre on him; this is not a book written straight to the point. Worse, a book so-titled made no mention of WWI until pg 142, almost halfway through, after which it meandered through other issues before reaching the last quarter when Thomas finally enlisted in the army. This book could have taken a number of other titles, "Edward Thomas and his Friend Robert Frost" would be a much less romantic but nevertheless more accurate one.

But there is much to like about this book. First of all, the writing. The first dozen pages started with the opening of the Poetry Bookshop in London and detoured to a description of the poetry scene in London through the different reigns. But what writing! One is left to wonder if Mr Hollis' knowledge of the poetry genre meant an active interest in poets and poetry, and the lyrical tone has found its way into his prose. (I found later that Hollis is indeed a poet himself.) Take this graphical depiction of the poets' quirks in the public reading of their works for example:

Yeats recited to a sell-out audience, Wilfrid Gibson performed in a droning monotone; W. H. Davies suffered nerves (cured when he was encouraged to think of the whisky afterwards), Sturge Moore forgot his lines; Ford Madox Hueffer read hurriedly, Rupert Brooked inaudibly, and Ralph Hodgson, who could not tolerate so much as a mention of his own work, simply refused to read at all, while simply no one could silence the actorly John Drinkwater.

There are many more examples of beautiful, lyrical writing that is unfamiliar to me. But reading this book through the usual lenses with which I used to read my other books, I got a little impatient wondering when all roads were going to lead to France. A big part of the book was on Thomas's unhappy family life, a not-so-successful career, his friendship with Frost, and then his struggle whether or not to enlist and to become a poet. In the end, France occupied but some 20 pages of the book, but lest I forget, this book is not about France, but all roads leading to France. And all that happened to him, as carefully developed by the author were roads leading to France, and tortuous as they were to Thomas, they were beautiful to the reader.

I would like to briefly talk about Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken. Personally, I hated this poem, unfairly, of course, as I hardly knew anything about it. But those last two lines, "I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." are quoted to death by anyone who wanted to show that they had the courage to take a 'less traveled path' that it irritates me no end. I once came across a newspaper article where the journalist quoted this to show that she had taken the "path less traveled" by being a - journalist.

However, after one had been educated by the author on the context under which this poem was written, Frost's own mischievous caution to his audience, Thomas's strong reaction to it, and most of all the author's own perceptive questions about the poem (pg 234), one can't help but fall in love with it. Perhaps feeling a little snobbery too (now that I know it better than that journalist). But the rejoinder that came on page 261 in the form of Thomas's Road was equally powerful, especially when the author broke up the poem, starting with "Now all roads lead to France". Yes, now all roads lead to France, in Thomas's own words, he would be going to France.

In the epilogue, the author went back to describing those who in Thomas's circle and what happened to them during and after the war, much like how he described them at the beginning of the book in the Poetry Bookshop. Before that, he touched ever so softly on Thomas's own death when it came, never over-playing it, and one is left to feel sad, yet happy that "[h]e fell without a mark on his body."

A poet who joined the army to fight a war, these are two ideas that I can never associate together. Yet in Thomas's case, and indeed those around him, this almost seemed like the only right thing to do. How did they, and in particular, Thomas come to this? It took another poet to tell us the story of this poet.

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Chiang Kai-Shek: China's Generalissimo and the Nation He Lost (Jonathon Fenby)

At one time in China's recent history, Chiang Kai-shek came close to unifying and ruling it. This book by Jonthan Fenby talks about the man and provides some insights into why he failed. By taking the readers through the different stages in his life and exploring how he overcame the challenges and treacheries along the way, the author managed to weave an interesting and rather gripping account of Chiang's life in this book.

This book was structured chronologically as with most biographies, but it was also divided into major sections covering Chiang's childhood, the period when he consolidated his power, followed by the time when he ruled from Nanking, to fighting the Japanese proper after Xi-an, and concluding with how Chiang fought and lost the civil war. What I particularly liked was the weights given to the different sections, putting less attention on Chiang's childhood which I am not quite interested in, but a lot more on the most important parts in his life, and then almost nothing on Chiang's life in Taiwan after 1949. In doing so, the author helped readers to focus only on the consequential parts of Chiang's life and avoided diluting his work with less important or interesting details.

A book on an essentially military person, one can expect the book to talk about many military operations, and because of this, maps are important. In this, the author has done a decent job, providing maps of the major campaigns such as the Northern Expedition and the war with Japan, but one can always ask for more.

My complaint is the lack of a glossary. I do not know if the author knows the Chinese language, somehow I suspect that he didn't because he seemed to have quoted from many translated sources instead of providing his own translation and interpretation of the original Chinese words and the lack of a glossary makes this a big problem.  Take for example what is lian zuo fa? Not having the explanation provided, I was hoping that I could at least see the Chinese characters in the glossary, as I would when reading books on China or Japan. But the absence of the glossary means that words and phrases like this become meaningless to most readers. I also feel that the failure to provide the proper context when quoting from Chiang's diaries made some of the things he wrote sounded stupid. For instance, take this sentence quoted from Chiang's diary: "At a time of national humiliation we should lie in faggots and taste gall." "Lying in faggots and taste gall" sounded almost ridiculous at a time of national humiliation, but if one were to know that Chiang actually wrote "卧薪尝胆", he would realise that Chiang was using a Chinese idiom, formulated by someone caught in a somewhat situation in the past. Things like this make me feel that the author was just quoting blindly from a secondary source, without knowing what actually was written.

There were also parts in the narrative of the story that I felt the author did not fill with enough details to let his readers appreciate the actual drama. For example when talking about Wang Jin-wei's formation of a puppet regime in collaboration with the Japanese, the author brought this important event up almost casually despite having talked about Wang on numerous occasions due to his obvious affiliations to Chiang. Mitter (2013) provided a much better description of the intrigue and dilemma Wang faced in taking that fateful step.

Notwithstanding these, the author was successful in directing me to consider some important people and issues surrounding Chiang. Firstly Sun Yat-sen and Zhang Xueliang. Contemporary Chinese history has portrayed these two men very positively; Sun, in particular, is hailed 国父, the father of the nation. Alas, he is but human and has his faults. We were told not only of his lack of political acumen and ability to manage, there were hints throughout that he was even a womaniser (all of which Chiang bettered). Similarly Zhang Xueliang is considered by many as a patriotic figure who risked his life to get Chiang to agree to fight the Japanese rather than the Communists. But one has to remember that Zhang was from Manchuria and has his fortunes tied up there so the possibility of him trying to use the Nationalist army to evict the Japanese from Manchukuo cannot be discounted.

And then there was Soong Meiling, who seemed to mesmerise every man that came into contact with her. I think she was obviously smart, and being educated in the US stood her out from all the Chinese women and most men in China. But almost all descriptions of her was of her beauty, and on occasions with cursory links to the word 'sex'. Current Chinese sentiments of her are not positive, in China for obvious reasons. But even in Taiwan, I do not get the sense of people seeing much in her. In this book, the author's treatment of her was guarded, he acknowledge her contributions and efforts in helping Chiang to rally the Chinese to resist the Japanese and then the Communists. At the same time, he also cited instances of her belligerent behaviours. However not once did he praise or criticise her in his own accords. Praise and criticism always came from other sources he quoted.

In addition to these, the author also talked about Chiang's relationship with the US. It is difficult to fault the US in their handling of their relationship with Chiang. My impression from the book is that the Americans who were on the ground (in China) clearly knew the state of the country, its army, and its leadership. But caught in their own wars in Europe and the Pacific, it was hard to see through the curtain of mist pulled down by Chiang and his relatives (Soong Meiling and T. V. Soong). Eventually they did know who they were dealing with, if for no other reason than Chiang's seemingly insatiable appetite for cash.

The other subject that the author in my opinion rightly put enough emphasis on is that of the warlords. One is able to learn a great deal about them in this book. Not only were descriptions of them scattered throughout the book, depending on when they appeared in Chiang's life, the author also dedicated a chapter to them, it was an educational one.

In so far as Chiang, the subject, was concerned, what the author successfully did was to provide enough information on him to persuade the readers to consider (or re-consider) the person. A lowly peasant-class man by birth, Chiang must be quite something to overcome his unprivileged birth and significant lack of education (at least compared to Soong Meiling) to rise to the position of the person who almost ruled an almost united China. Along the way he had to overcome political enemies, the ever untrustworthy warloards, and even unfaithful relatives. Yet he would lose almost everything to the Communists and his nemesis, Mao Zedong. Many today still think of him as a traitor for not standing up to the Japanese earlier, but he appeared to have a case for going after the Communists first, which was validated by his own defeat in their hands.

Today Taiwan is still in an awkward position in international relations, even though as an entity on its own it is almost self-sufficient, and has a very enterprising, cultured, creative, educated and likeable people. How much of it is due to Chiang? Can one hold Taiwan as an example of what China would be had he succeeded? These are questions readers, especially Chinese readers would think about. But the other question all readers would surely ask themselves is why did Chiang fail? I do not think I can provide an answer, but suspect that this line quoted from the book (pg 349) encompassing a mix of incompetency, delusion, and deceit goes some way into giving a hint.

'Inflation,inflation! There is no inflation in China! If people want to pay twenty five dollars for a fountain pen, that’s their business, it’s not inflation. They’re crazy, that’s all. They shouldn’t pay it.’ H.H. Kung, Finance Minister

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