A pale whiteness was beginning to appear in the night sky, announcing the coming dawn. The clouds began to part, and the splendor of the morning sun pierced the thick sea of mist.
"It's clearing!"
"Luck from heaven!"
"Conditions are perfect!"
At the top of the mountain the men put on their armor and divided into two groups. The first would make a dawn raid on the enemy fortress on the mountain, and the other would attack Tobigasu.
The Takeda had underestimated the danger, and now their waking shouts broke out in confusion. The fires set by Tadatsugu's forces sent black smoke rising from the mountain stronghold. The Takeda fled in a disorderly rout toward Tobigasu. But by then Tadatsugu's second division had already breached the castle walls.
The night before, after Tadatsugu's departure, Nobunaga's entire army had been given the order to advance. But this was not to be the outbreak of the battle.
The army defied the driving rain and moved on toward the neighborhood of Mount Chausu. From that time until dawn, the soldiers pounded the stakes they had carried into the ground, and bound them together with rope to create a palisade that looked like a meandering centipede.
As dawn was nearing, Nobunaga inspected the defenses on horseback. The rain had stopped, and the construction of the palisade had been completed.
Nobunaga turned to the Tokugawa generals and yelled at them with a laugh, "Wait and see! Today we're going to let the Kai army come close, and then we'll handle them like molting skylarks."
I wonder, each of them thought. They imagined that he was just trying to reassure them. But what they could clearly see was that the soldiers from Gifu—the troops who had shouldered the stakes and ropes all the way from Okazaki—were now on the battlefield. And the thirty thousand stakes had become a long, serpentine palisade.
"Let the picked troops of Kai come on!"
The construction itself, however, could not be used to attack the enemy. And to annihilate the enemy in the way Nobunaga had described, they would have to draw him toward the palisade. To lure him, one of Sakuma Nobumori's units and Okubo Tadayo's gunners were sent outside the palisade to wait for the enemy.
Suddenly a chorus of voices lifted skyward. The Takeda had been careless with their enemies, and their shouts of dismay came when they saw the black smoke rising from the direction of Tobigasu, behind them.
"The enemy is behind us, too!"
"They're pressing in from the rear!"
As their agitation began to turn to panic, Katsuyori gave the command to charge. “Don't delay for a moment! Waiting for the enemy will only give them the advantage!"
His own self-confidence, and the faith of his troops that was based on that self-confidence, amounted to this creed: Don't even question me! Have faith in a martial valor that has never known defeat since the time of Lord Shingen.
But civilization moves on like a horse at full gallop. The Southern Barbarians—the Portuguese—had revolutionized warfare with the introduction of firearms. How sad that Takeda Shingen had not had the wisdom to foresee this. Kai, protected by its mountains, ravines, and rivers, was cut off from the center of things and isolated from foreign influences. In addition, its samurai were consumed by an obstinacy and conceit particular to the men of a mountainous province. They had very little fear of their own shortcomings, and no desire to study the ways of other lands. The upshot was that they relied completely on their cavalry and picked troops. The forces under Yamagata fiercely attacked the troops of Sakuma Nobumori outside the palisade. In contrast, Nobunaga had planned a fully scientific strategy, using modern tactics and weapons.
The rain had just stopped; the ground was muddy.
The left wing of the Kai army—the two thousand troops under Yamagata—received their general's command not to attack the palisade. They took a roundabout route to by-pass it. But the mire was horrible. The downpour of the night before had caused the brook to overflow its banks. This natural calamity was unforeseen even by Yamagata, who had fully surveyed the lay of the land beforehand. The soldiers sank into the mud up to their shins. The horses were unable to move.
To add to their troubles, the Oda gunners under Okubo began to fire at Yamagata's flank.
"Turn!" Yamagata ordered.
With this short command, the mud-covered army changed its direction once again and thrust toward Okubo's gunners. Tiny sprays of mud appeared to spatter all over the two thousand armored men. Struck by the rifle fire, they fell, yelling as red blood spurted from them. Trampled by their own horses, they cried out in pathetic confusion.
Finally the armies collided. For decades, warfare had been changing. The ancient fighting style in which each samurai called out his own name and declared that he was the descendant of so-and-so, that his master was the lord of such-and-such a province, was fast disappearing.
Thus, once hand-to-hand fighting broke out—naked blade biting against naked blade and warrior grappling with warrior—its horror was beyond words.
The best weapons were first the gun and then the spear. The spear was not used for stabbing, but rather for brandishing, flailing, and striking, and these were the methods taught for the battlefield. Advantage, therefore, was perceived in length, and there were spears with shafts anywhere from twelve to eighteen feet long.
The common soldiers were lacking both in the training and in the courage that the siuation demanded, and were really only capable of striking with their spears. Thus there were many occasions when a skillful warrior would rush into their midst with a short spear, thrust in every direction, and, almost with ease, win himself the fame accorded a single warrior who had struck down dozens of men.
Attacked by swarms of these men, both the Tokugawa and the Oda forces were helpless. The Okubo corps was wiped out almost instantly. The reason the Okubo corps and the Sakuma forces were outside of the palisade, however, was to draw the enemy in, not to win. For this reason it would have been all right for them to turn and run. But as soon as they saw the faces of the Kai soldiers in front of them, they were unable to keep years of animosity from igniting in their hearts.
"Come and get us!" they cried.
Neither would they stand for the jeers and insults of the Kai warriors. Inevitably, the Oda men cast caution aside in the midst of all the blood, and thought only of their own province and reputations.
While this was going on, Katsuyori and his generals must have thought that the time was right, for the center battalions of Kai's fifteen-thousand-man army began to advance like a giant cloud. Their orderly formations broke up like a gigantic flock of birds taking flight, and as they finally approached the palisade, each corps simultaneously screamed its war cries.
To the eyes of the Takeda, the wooden palisade clearly appeared to be nothing much at all. They thought they would force their way through, breaking through with a single charge, boring right into the central Oda army like a drill.
Raising a battle cry, the Kai forces charged the palisade. They were determined— some tried to clamber over, some to beat the fence down with huge mallets and iron staffs, some to cut through it with saws, and some to douse it with oil and burn it down.
Nobunaga had left the fighting to the Sakuma and Okubo corps outside the palisade until then, and the ranks on Mount Chausu were silent. But suddenly…
"Now!"
Nobunaga's golden war fan cut through the air, and the commanders of the firearms regiments competed with each other in yelling out the order:
"Fire!"
"Fire!"
The earth shook at the volleys of gunfire. The mountain split open and the clouds were shredded. Powder smoke shrouded the palisade, and the horses and men of the Kai army fell like mosquitoes into piles of corpses.
"Don't retreat!" their commanders urged. "Follow me!"
Recklessly charging the palisade, the soldiers leaped over the dead bodies of their comrades, but they were unable to avoid the oncoming rain of bullets. Screaming pathetically, they ended up as
corpses themselves.
In the end, the Kai army could no longer stand its ground.
'Retreat!" screamed four or five mounted commanders, pulling back their horses, the command somehow wrung from their throats even in their panic. One fell, covered with blood, while another was thrown from his whinnying horse as it went down under a hail of bullets.
No matter how badly they had been beaten, however, their spirit was not broken.
They had lost almost one-third of their men in the first charge, but the instant they retreated, a fresh force once again hastened toward the palisade. The blood that had spattered the thirty thousand stakes had not yet dried.
The gunfire coming from the palisade answered their charge directly, as if to say, We've been waiting.
Glaring at the palisade dyed red with the blood of their comrades, the fierce soldiers of Kai screamed as they charged, encouraging one another, vowing that they would never retreat a single yard.
"It's time to die!"
"On to our deaths!"
"Make a death shield so the others can leap over us!"
The "death shield" was a last-ditch tactic in which soldiers in the front rank sacrificed themselves to protect the advance of the next rank. Then that rank in turn acted as a shield for the troops following, and in this way the troops pressed on step by step. It was a terrible way to advance.
These were, indeed, brave men; but surely this charge was nothing more than a futile display of brute strength. And yet there were able tacticians among the generals leading the assault.
Katsuyori, of course, was at the rear, urging his men to go forward, but had his commanders known that victory was an absolute impossibility, there would have been no reason to ask for such an immense sacrifice and repeatedly to push the troops too far.
"That wall must be broken down!"
They must have believed that it could be done. Once the guns of that period were fired, reloading the ball and repacking the gunpowder took time. Thus, once a volley had been fired, the sound of gunfire would stop for a while. It was that interval that the Kai generals considered a window to be taken advantage of; thus the "death shield" was not begrudged.
Nobunaga, however, had considered that particular weak point, and for the new weapons he had devised new tactics. In this case, he divided his three thousand gunners to three groups. When the first thousand men had fired their weapons, each man would quickly step to the side and the second group would advance through their ranks, immediately firing their own volley. They, too, would then open their ranks and be quickly replaced by the third group. In this way, the interval the enemy so hoped for was never given to them throughout the entire battle.
Again, there were openings here and there in the palisade. Measuring the intervals between the tides of charges, the Oda and Tokugawa spear corps would dash out from inside the palisade and quickly strike at both wings of the Kai army.
Obstructed by the protective palisade and the gunfire, the Kai soldiers were unable to advance. When they attempted to retreat, they were harassed by the enemy's pursuit and the pincer attack. Now the Kai warriors, who took such pride in their discipline and training, did not have even a moment to exhibit their courage.
The Yamagata corps had retreated altogether, leaving behind a large number of men who had sacrificed their lives. Only Baba Nobufusa had not fallen into the trap.
Baba had clashed with the troops of Sakuma Nobumori, but as Nobumori had only been there originally as a decoy, the Oda troops feinted a retreat. The Baba corps chased after them and took possession of the encampment at Maruyama, but Baba's orders were to go no deeper, and he did not send a single soldier beyond Maruyama.
"Why don't you advance!" Baba was repeatedly asked by both Katsuyori's headquarters and his own officers.
Baba, however, would not move. "I have my own reasons to ponder over for a moment, and I'd better stop here to observe what is occurring. The rest of you should go ahead and advance. Win some glory for yourselves."
Every commander who got near enough to attack the palisade met with the same overwhelming defeat. And then Katsuie and Hideyoshi led their battalions far around the villages to the north and began to cut off the headquarters of the Kai army from the front lines.
It was almost noon, and the sun was high in a sky that promised the end of the rainy season. It now burned down on the earth with an abrupt heat and with a color that announced an intense summer.
Hostilities had begun at dawn, at the second half of the Hour of the Tiger. With the continual change of new troops, the men of the Kai army were by this time bathed in sweat and breathing hard. The blood that had been shed in the morning had dried like glue on the leather of their armor and on their hair and skin. And now there was fresh blood wherever one looked.
Behind the central army, Katsuyori was howling like a demon. Finally he had sent every battalion, including the reserve corps usually held back for emergencies. If Katsuyori had understood the situation more quickly, he might have finished the matter with only fraction of the damage his army incurred. But instead, moment by moment, he himself turned a small mistake into a monstrous one. In short, this was not simply a matter martial spirit and courage. It was the same as if the forces of Nobunaga and Ieyasu had set snares at the hunting grounds and waited for wild ducks or boars to come. The Kai regiments that attacked so fiercely did nothing more than lose their valuable soldiers in a pointless "death shield."
Alas, it was said that even Yamagata Masakage, who had fought so well with the left wing since morning, had been struck down in battle. Other famous generals, men of great courage, went down one after another, until the dead and wounded numbered over half of the entire army.
"It's obvious that the enemy is going to be defeated. Isn't this the right moment?"
The general who spoke was Sassa Narimasa, who had been watching battle with Nobunaga.
Nobunaga immediately had Narimasa transmit his orders to the troops inside the palisade. He said, "Leave the palisade and attack. Destroy them all!"
Even Katsuyori's headquarters collapsed in the attack. The Tokugawa pressed in on the left. The Oda broke through the Takeda vanguard and made a fierce assault on the central army. Caught in the middle, the numerous banners, commanders' standards, signal flags, whinnying horses, shining armor, and spears and swords that sparkled like constellations around Katsuyori were now enveloped in blood and panic.
Only the forces of Baba Nobufusa, which had remained at Maruyama, were still intact. Baba sent a samurai to Katsuyori with a message advocating retreat.
Katsuyori stamped the ground with vexation. But he was unable to defy reality. Defeated, the central corps had retreated, covered with blood.
"We should retreat temporarily, my lord."
"Swallow your anger and think of what our prospects are."
Desperately leading the men of the main camp, Katsuyori's generals somehow extricated him from the trap he was in. To the enemy it was clear that the central Kai army was in a disorderly retreat.
When they had accompanied Katsuyori as far as a nearby bridge, the generals turned back, forming a rear guard to fight with the pursuing troops. They were heroically struck down in battle. Baba had also accompanied the fleeing Katsuyori and the pathetic remnants of his army as far as Miyawaki, but finally the old general turned his horse to the west, his breast filled with a thousand thoughts.
I've lived a long life. Or I could say it's been short, too. Truly long or truly short, only this one moment is eternal, I suppose. The moment of death… Can eternal life be anything more than that?
Then, just before galloping into the midst of the enemy, he swore, I'll make my excuses to Lord Shingen in the next world. I was an incompetent counselor and general. Good-bye, you mountains and rivers of Kai!
Turning around, he shed a single tear for his province, then suddenly spurred his horse. "Death! I won't dishonor the name of Lord Shingen!"
His voice sank into the sea of the great enemy arm
y. It is hardly necessary to add that each of his retainers followed him, to be struck down gloriously.
From the very beginning, no one had been able to see through this battle as Baba had. He had doubtless perceived that, after it, the Takeda clan would fall and would even be destroyed, and that that was its fate. Nevertheless, even with his foresight and loyalty, he was unable to save the clan from disaster. The huge forces of change were simply overwhelming.
Together with a dozen or so mounted attendants, Katsuyori crossed over the shallows of Komatsugase and finally sought shelter in Busetsu Castle. Katsuyori was a courageous nan, but now he was as speechless as a deaf mute.
The entire surface of Shidaragahara was red—a deep red—as the sun began to sink. The great battle this day had commenced around dawn and finished in the late afternoon. No horse neighed; not a soldier cried out. The wide plain quickly sank into darkness in :omplete desolation.
The dew of night settled before the dead could be carried away. The Takeda corpses alone were said to have numbered more than ten thousand.
The Towers of Azuchi
The Emperor had appointed Nobunaga to the court rank of Councillor of State not long before, and now he had been named General of the Right. The congratulatory ceremony for this latest promotion was conducted during the Eleventh Month with a pomp that exceeded anything seen in preceding eras.
Nobunaga's lodgings in the capital were in the shogun's former palace at Nijo. Guests crowded into the palace every day: courtiers, samurai, tea masters, poets, and merchants from the nearby trading cities of Naniwa and Sakai.
Mitsuhide had planned on leaving Nobunaga and returning to his castle in Tamba and while it was still light, he had come to the Nijo Palace from his own lodgings to take his leave.
"Mitsuhide," Hideyoshi greeted him with a broad smile.
"Hideyoshi?" Mitsuhide answered with a laugh.
"What brings you here today?" Hideyoshi asked, taking Mitsuhide by the arm.
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 67