Imjin War - Japanese Invasion of Korea 1592-1598 - 4K DOCUMENTARY

Japan   at the dawn of the 17th century, was entering a  new epoch... The country had just been united, and   thus, the Sengoku Jidai, a near century and a half  of endemic feudal warfare, had come to an end.   Peace proved to be yet another challenge for  the new overlord Toyotomi Hideyoshi, for his   country was now home to hundreds of thousands  of warriors with no war left to fight. Thus,   Hideyoshi turned his ambitions outwards,  and now that he could harness some of the   most veteran armies in Japanese history, he  would launch a devastating invasion of Korea.   Welcome to the new Kings and Generals video on the  Imjin War! These long videos are very difficult to   make, so consider subscribing, liking, sharing,  and commenting to earn us some grace with the   gods of the algorithm. You can support us  via patreon - the link in the description,   or via youtube membership -  the button is under the video. Now this may have happened a long time ago  and in a far off place for most people,   but you should know that Japan might still  show up at your door. Fortunately it’s quite   a different sort of visit, as now they’re  just delivering tasty snacks and treats,   which is the role of our  sponsor TokyoTreat and SakuraCo. These are two different snack  box subscription services that   both bring an experience of Japan into your home. TokyoTreat focuses on seasonal products that  are exclusive to Japan. Their current box,   Snackin’ New Years, features  KitKat Strawberry Chocolate Cake,   Fanta Premier Pear, Spy  Family Anya Candy, and more. SakuraCo, on the other hand, focused  on traditional cultural snacks made by   Japanese artisans, along with tea pairings,  and you get a piece of authentic Japanese   tableware in each box. The current box is New  Years in Niigata, featuring Niigata regional   specialities like Echigohime Strawbrery Crepe  and Niigate Konjac Yokan. You get some Genmai   Houjicha Tea to enjoy it all with, and a sake cup  to celebrate the coming of the year of the rabbit. Both boxes come with booklets covering the  japanese food culture of the items included,   and if you like the sound of  all this, use our link in the   description and discount code below to  get five dollars off your first box. But there’s another offer too: SakuraCo is  running a free ticket to Japan giveaway until   Janurary thirty first twenty twenty three, so  check that out too, link in the description. In the last two decades of the 16th  century, the great warlord Toyotomi   Hideyoshi had more or less achieved his  goal of uniting Japan’s many warring fiefs.   In 1582, he claimed Honshu in its entirety after  succeeding his betrayed master, Oda Nobunaga.   Shikoku was then subdued in 1585, and Kyushu fell  soon after in 1587. As the Land of the Rising Sun   came ever closer to unification, a rival daimyo  who swore to follow Hideyoshi were allowed to keep   their demesnes and were promised more lands  and spoils. However, once Japan was unified,   lands and spoils would be hard to deliver on,  as there would be no more battles to fight or   gains to be had. Aware of this fact, he began to  make plans to turn his vassals outwards in the   late 1580s, hungrily eying Korea as the initial  target, and the Chinese Ming Empire after that.   These invasion plans were more than an artful  solution to keep his belligerent, war-like vassals   busy. Like Nobunaga before him, Hideyoshi believed  that his power ought to extend beyond the confines   of his small island nation, and was convinced  his destiny was to conquer further afield.  The great unifier’s most recent conquest was the  island of Tsushima, located at the midpoint of   the Tsushima Strait. The lords of this clan, the  Sō, had since become Hideyoshi’s vassals, and were   ordered to deliver a message to the Koreans: which  demanded their submission to the Japanese state.   This put the Sō in a difficult spot: for  their long relations with the Korean Joseon   monarchy made them ideal diplomats, but  an outbreak of hostilities between Korea   and Japan would damage the trade which  granted the clan much of its wealth.   Aiming to soften the diplomatic blow as much  as he could, Sō Yoshishige altered Hideyoshi’s   message to the Korean court, blunting much of its  threats and demands, and changing it so that it   stipulated only a simple tribute mission be sent  to Japan in order to confirm Korea’s respect.   However, this plan would backfire. In a lethal  blunder, the Sō clan leader sent a rough,   hardened subordinate known as Yutani Yasuhiro to  deliver the message, instead of going himself.   Yasuhiro conducted himself in the most indelicate  way possible, insulting his Korean hosts by   degrading the size of their spears compared  to the Japanese, and mocking their lifestyle.   Not content with that, the brash envoy  warned: “Your country will not last long!   Having already lost the sense of order and  discipline, how can you expect to survive?”.  The uncouth nature of the envoy’s  conduct and the unacceptable demand,   led to the Korean refusal to pay any form of  submission or respect to Hideyoshi. Naturally,   Hideyoshi was furious at the failure and ordered  that Yasuhiro and his entire family be killed.   Sō Yoshishige was punished less severely, being  replaced as daimyo of Tsushima by his adopted   son Yoshitoshi, who Hideyoshi considered  more trustworthy. Over the next few years,   more embassies were sent from Japan to Korea and  vice versa. In a crucial visit to Kyoto in 1590,   Korean courtiers failed to gather intelligence  on just how powerful Hideyoshi’s military was,   leading their government to underestimate the  imminent danger. Furthermore, the issue divided   the Korean court factions, named for the location  of their respective headquarters in Seoul. Members   of the ‘Westerner’ faction gradually came  to realize the very real peril Japan posed,   but any attempt to prepare for the invasion  was actively opposed by the ‘Easterner’ group.  In Japan, a colossal war machine was gearing  up in the summer of 1591, beginning with   Hideyoshi’s establishment of a massively fortified  headquarters complex on the island of Kyushu.   From there, he oversaw the levying of a massive  army comprising 335,000 total troops, 158,000   of which would cross to Korea itself. The levies  were raised by Japan’s various daimyo lords, who,   in a system known as gun’yaku, were obliged to  supply a predetermined number of men according   to the size and wealth of their fiefdom. Beyond  that, other political factors could influence a   daimyo’s required contribution, such as  their personal standing with Hideyoshi.  The 158,000-strong invasion force  consisted of 82,200 men from Kyushu,   which was closest to Korea, 57,000  from Honshu, and 19,600 from Shikoku.   How this giant force was equipped must be  discussed for a moment, and deconstruct   the commonly held romantic notions of what  the Japanese armies of this age looked like.   Rather than an noble force of katana-wielding  Samurai, the majority of Hideyoshi’s invading   troops were instead the humble ashigaru, peasant  foot soldiers armed with swords, spears and bows.   Perhaps one-third of this army was armed  with arquebuses, an early form of firearm   introduced to Japan by the Portuguese, who had  made landfall in Kyushu some decades earlier.   Hideyoshi’s plan was to be a domino rolling  through Asia. When the Koreans were conquered,   they were to supply manpower and material for the  push into China. When the area around Beijing was   conquered, that area would supply manpower for a  push further into the Middle Kingdom, and so on.  The invading force would be ferried to Korea by  700 assorted ships which, along with their crews,   were requisitioned from the various daimyo  of the coastal provinces. These were mostly   repurposed merchant or civilian vessels. Though  Hideyoshi had a massive army at his disposal,   in addition to high-quality military technology  on land, naval power would prove a problem for him   throughout the coming conflict. In contrast, the  Koreans had just two advantages over the Japanese:   their superior shipbuilding and cannon technology.  These upsides, however, were overshadowed by the   fact that corruption in Korea was rampant, leaving  military units neglected, untrained and lazy.   As a whole, the Joseon kingdom was not  ready for the storm that was coming.   However, one man within it, later to become  Korea’s most venerated war hero, certainly was:   the forty-six-year-old career soldier Yi Sun-shin.  After being assigned to Cholla in late 1590,   Yi immediately understood that his province could  serve as a possible beachhead for an invasion.   Determined to be as prepared as he could, he  spent a year diligently studying naval command,   whipping his men into shape,  and repairing infrastructure.  Meanwhile, after being delayed multiple times,  three contingents of the first wave of Japanese   invaders were ready to sail by May 22nd. On the  23rd, 18,700 troops under the command of Konishi   Yukinaga and Sō Yoshitoshi set out for Busan. It  was a risky voyage, for the warships earmarked   to guard the troop transports had not arrived,  and so this fleet was completely vulnerable.   Though initially believing the ships on the  horizon were part of an abnormally large trade   mission, the Korean commanders in the Busan region  gradually came to realize that the invasion had   begun. They could have used the superior warships  under their command to assault the undefended   Japanese fleet, but in a catastrophic lack of  decisiveness and initiative, they failed to do so.   By nightfall on May 23rd, around 400  transports crowded the waters off Busan,   resting in the harbour completely unopposed. After  a final demand for an unopposed Japanese crossing   to China was rejected, the troop landings began. At 4am on May 24th, 1592, 5,000 men under   Yoshitoshi disembarked onto land, followed  by another 7,000 under Yukinaga. Eventually,   the entire first contingent had disembarked, and  a Japanese army had landed on Korean soil without   a single shot being fired. After two brief sieges,  the main fortresses at Busan and its harbour fell,   triggering panic among military leaders in  surrounding provinces. In yet another stunning   act of military ineptitude, the incompetent  Korean naval commanders scuttled their sizeable   provincial fleets and destroyed their weaponry  and provisions, retreating north as quickly as   they could. With Busan secured, the proud Yukinaga  refused to wait for reinforcements as instructed.   Instead, he immediately pushed north along the  middle of the peninsula on May 26th, marching   at a blistering pace, likely wishing to monopolize  the glory of seizing the capital for himself. This   invading force first came to the deserted town of  Yangsan, then went onto secure Miryang and Daegu   on May 28th, pillaging and plundering as they  did. Realising he had to mount some opposition,   the governor of Gyeongsang province, Kim Su,  tried to lead a force south to meet the Japanese.   However, he soon withdrew without fighting  after learning that Dongnae had also fallen.  News of the Japanese invasion had reached  Yi Sun-shin in Cholla on May 25th, along   with the shocking knowledge that both of the  Gyeongsang navies had already self-destructed.   However, Yi waited patiently; he had orders to  defend his segment of coastline and would do so.   He remained confident that the Japanese could be  defeated on the seas despite their superiority   on land, so Yi was biding his time. Meanwhile,  a second Japanese army landed in Busan on May   28th under the command of Kato Kiyomasa. The  troop ships this time disgorged a fearsome   contingent of 22,800 soldiers. Realising that the  vanguard under Yukinaga had not waited for him,   the irritated Kiyomasa also swiftly  pushed forward. He took the eastern route,   seizing the cities of Ulsan, Kyongju, Yongchon,  Sinnyong, and Kumo on the path to Seoul. Kiyomasa   blazed with determination, resolved to not let  his rival, Yukinaga, reach the capital before him.  On the 29th, a third prong of the invasion  opened up when Hideyoshi’s third contingent   under Kuroda Nagamasa arrived at Angolpo.  This force consisted of 11,000 troops who,   after seizing the nearby fort at Kimhae,  would take the western route north.   Three Japanese armies were now set to converge on  the Korean capital at Seoul, but they would not   get to the city totally unopposed. At Chungju,  around 100 kilometers south of the capital,   the revered Joseon general Sin Rip had assembled a  sizable resistance army of 8,000, and he intended   to fight. The ragtag agglomeration of cavalry  troops, officers who had retreated from the south,   and hastily raised levies from the north,  possibly could have held the Choryong pass,   which had been General Sin’s original plan.  However, retreating Korean units revealed   that it had already been lost, so instead Sin  chose to do battle at Chungju on an open field.  At midday on June 6th 1592, as the Japanese  were descending from the Choryong heights,   General Sin drew up his army outside Chungju on  a stretch of flat ground, hemmed in by a hill   called Tangumdae to their flank and the South Han  river behind them. This was a death trap with no   possibility of retreat, and this was precisely the  point. Placing troops in this kind of situation   was a long-established Chinese military tactic  which had led to remarkable victories in the past.   Perhaps the Koreans could use it to halt ‘the  robbers’, as they derisively called the Japanese.   As Yukinaga’s first contingent descended from  the heights, Kiyomasa emerged from the eastern   route and managed to catch up with his rival  daimyo near Chungju. The latter was angered   that Yukinaga had stolen the glory by storming  ahead, and demanded to now take the lead with his   own force. He refused, and Kiyomasa decided that  he would take revenge on his rival at Chungju.   As Yukinaga began his advance  towards the city from the southeast,   the second contingent stayed behind,  hoping their rivals would be defeated.  The attacking troops fanned out as they approached  the town, finally emerging opposite General Sin’s   force in a vast arc. At 2PM on the afternoon of  June 6th, Yukinaga divided his army into three   main units. 10,000 soldiers under himself and his  retainer Matsuura Shigenobu formed the vanguard,   while Sō Yoshitoshi and his 5,000 strong  contingent formed the left flank. Finally,   3,700 assorted troops commanded by their  minor daimyos: Arima Harunobu, Omura Yoshiaki,   and Goto Sumiharu, were placed on the right.  Arquebusiers were placed on the front lines of the   Japanese army, while behind them stood ashigaru  footmen armed with melee weapons. When arrayed   in battle formation, the Japanese advanced with a  roar of musket fire. It was hardly even a contest;   General Sin’s amateur forces were almost  immediately overwhelmed by flying arquebus   balls and began to suffer devastating losses. The  peasant soldiers began to rout under the pressure,   but the brave General would not retreat so easily.  He led his crack cavalry in a headlong charge   towards the enemy line. It was to no avail. The  arquebusiers rained withering musket fire down   on his horsemen, breaking the charge before any  contact was made. In short order, General Sin’s   8,000 strong army had ceased to exist, many  survivors of the initial slaughter being   hunted down by pursuing ashigaru soon after. Sin  threw himself into a natural spring adorned in   full armour, committing suicide by drowning. The news of Sin Rip’s defeat at Chungju caused   panic in Seoul, and with no army to defend it, the  Korean court decided to flee, despite the pleas   of the populace. Konishi’s decisive victory  angered his rival commander Kato even more.   Some sources claim that Konishi was initially  against the war, and, in a possible attempt   to damage Hideyoshi’s position, even warned  the Korean court about the invasion, and was   now moving quickly to erase any evidence of his  betrayal. After almost coming to blows, the two   daimyos took separate paths to Seoul. Konishi’s  route was easier, looping north and west where the   Han River was not a decisive obstacle. At the same  time, Kato took a shorter route directly north,   but where the river was at its widest. After  performing this river crossing with considerable   ingenuity, Kato was shocked upon seeing the  banners of his rival flying over the city’s   battlements. He had been beaten again by mere  hours. Kuroda Nagamasa and his third contingent,   as well as Ukita Hideie’s 10,000 arrived on  June 16th, 1592. The Korean capital itself   was occupied with little bloodshed. Meanwhile,  the Korean court had evacuated to Pyongyang.   According to some sources, angered by their king’s  abandonment of them, the angry citizens burned   many of the royal residences. Now that the   capital had been taken, the Japanese armies set  out to consolidate their gains. The countryside   was pillaged largely without resistance. However,  some Korean forces were still in the field.   When the Japanese started raiding the area called  Yangju directly to the north of Seoul, commander   of the minor Korean unit decided to use their  complacency against them. As the Japanese were   pillaging Yangju, the Koreans appeared near the  village. This drew the attention of the invaders,   and a group of them moved against the Koreans,  who upon contact dropped their weapons and started   running towards the nearby mountains. They were  chased by the Japanese, but it was a trap. As   soon as the enemy entered the mountain pass, the  Koreans hiding here surrounded and destroyed this   unit. Although the invaders lost only around  100 troops in this minor battle, it improved   the morale of the Korean armies, and forced the  daimyos to be more careful in their raiding.  After leaving Seoul, Konishi and Kato, bitter  rivals to the end, were split up again,   their contingents marching to quell  the northwestern Pyongan province,   and the far northeastern province of Hamgyong  respectively. Both were expected to reach the   Chinese frontier at the Yalu and Tumen rivers  during their expeditions. Furthermore, an 11,000   strong third contingent would seize Hwanghae  province. On top of this, a fourth contingent of   14,000 men would march east to quell the eastern  coastal lands of Gangwon while a fifth division of   25,000 troops would subdue the west coast  province of Chungcheong. 15,700 soldiers of   a sixth division set out for the bypassed Cholla  province, while 30,000 men of the seventh would   hold the crucial beachhead province of Kyongsang.  Finally, Ukita Hideie 10,000 would hold Seoul   itself and the neighboring Kyonggi province.  Hideie himself was appointed by Hideyoshi   as an interim supreme commander. Japanese  consideration now turned to logistics and supply.  However, when Kato moved his troops to the north,  he found that the Koreans under Gim Myeongwon had   forced-marched their army to block the Japanese on  the opposite side of the Imjin river. Although the   Japanese had 20 thousand troops and outnumbered  the Koreans almost 2-to-1, the latter were in a   great position to defend. The rains had flooded  the river, making the crossing even more difficult   for Kato. Before the Japanese approached the  area, Gim had already burned the nearby forests   and moved all of the boats in the area to the  north coast. He knew that reinforcements were   on the way, and was planning on waiting on  them in his excellent defensive position.   Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have full  control of his army, for half of it was commanded   by the courtier Han Ung-in, who demanded an  immediate confrontation with the Japanese.   The battle of the Imjin river started on July 6th,  1592. On the first day, the armies exchanged arrow   and cannon volleys, but as the distance between  two was significant, neither side suffered much.   On the second day, the Koreans  received 3000 cavalry reinforcements.   For Kato, it was clear that he had to  do something to make the enemy move, or   otherwise his situation would become untenable, so  he ordered three quarters of his army to retreat.   The experienced Gim knew this was a trap,  having already seen this tactic fighting   the Jurchen peoples in the north, but  inexperienced general Sin Hal was sure   that he was about to score a glorious victory,  and decided to attack. Han Ung-in supported him,   and even ordered the execution of one  of the generals who opposed the attack.  Gim couldn’t let the army advance without him, so  had no choice but to join Sin Hal when the latter   started crossing the river. Soon the entire Korean  army was on the south side of the Imjin river.   Showing no signs of resistance, the 5000 Japanese  started fleeing, which only encouraged Sin Hal.   Both armies entered a mountainous area to the  south, and immediately after the Koreans were deep   enough, Kato gave the order: muskets sent volley  after volley into the pursuers. The battle was   over in a matter of minutes. The Japanese lost  almost no troops, while more than 10 thousand   Koreans were dead, with only a portion of the  cavalry managing to flee back across the river.  Kato was now free to move north, but logistics  was still a huge problem for the invading army.   With its task of ferrying eight armies  now complete, the 700-ship strong Japanese   fleet began probing west from Busan, along  the treacherous Korean south coast. They   were moving directly towards Cholla,  where the Yi Sun-shin held command.  The Korean navy as a whole was in a dire state,  as most of the vessels of Gyeongsang were burned   or scuttled. The commander of the remaining ships,  Won Gyun went into hiding among the many coves and   inlets along Korea’s southern coast, and sent a  letter to Admiral Yi asking for help. But before   he acted, Yi started gathering intelligence  on Japanese naval movements. Moreover,   he hoped to organise a united fleet of 90 ships  with other admirals in the area. Some of Yi’s men   were executed and their heads were displayed to  the others in order to improve defeatist moods.   However on June 12th - the day Seoul fell to  Japanese ground forces - Yi was forced to sail.   King Seonjo’s court issued orders for him  to unite his vessels with those of Won Gyun.   On June 13th, Yi Sun-shin led  his fleet out of Yeosu harbour.   It was made up of 39 fighting  vessels - 24 large panoksons,   15 smaller decked hyeupson fighting ships, and  46 lighter scout ships known as ‘sea ears’.  After rendezvousing with Won at Dang’po, Yi  slowly sailed to the east. As his makeshift   navy rounded the edge of Koje Island and  began working its way north, a scout ship   approached them with a message that a fleet  of Japanese ships was at anchor in Ok-po port.   This village was situated inside a large  bay not too far up the coast of Koje island,   so it was there that the first naval  battle of the war would be fought.  As Korean naval forces entered the bay, Yi  ordered his smaller ships to the flanks while   the heavier warships, including Yi’s  flagship, formed a line in the centre.   He sent a message to each of his captains, warning  them not to give way, but to ‘stand like mountain   castles’. Then, he ordered an advance. More than  50 enemy transports were at anchor in front of   Ok-po village. Most were unmanned, ransacking  the village in search of loot and setting fire   to houses. Only when Korean ships neared them  were they seen by the Japanese, due to the fact   that smoke from the burning village obscured their  vision. The Japanese hastily rushed back to their   ships, attempting to lift anchor and then hugging  the coast rather than heading for the open sea.  Yi’s fleet attacked, engaging the Japanese at  a distance and encircling them before opening   fire with cannons and fire arrows to the  beat of their admiral’s war drum. Though   Japanese arquebusiers attempted to fire back,  the distance meant that Yi’s enemies could not   attempt boarding actions, and they were  gradually destroyed one ship at a time.  When this fleet had broken, its crewmen dead  or fleeing back to shore , five more ships   were spotted in the evening near Happo, four of  which were also destroyed by Yi. 26 ships of the   Japanese navy were destroyed on the first day,  without a single loss for Yi Sun-shin’s armada.  The next morning, 13 additional Japanese  ships were spotted near Jinhae. Yi once   again destroyed 11 out of that number without  suffering any losses. During these victories,   Admiral Yi was often amused by the exotic trophies  taken from enemy ships, particularly their   elaborately ornate helmets, which were sent to  the king Seonjo alongside the news of the victory.  The harrowing experience of civilians Yi  encountered after Ok’po further enraged him,   providing proof to him of Japan’s savagery.  The admiral then retreated back to Yeosu in   order to reorganise his forces. These naval  defeats made the Japanese realise that the   Korean navy was not yet defeated, and they sent  a force of ships to deal with Yi in early July.   Being notified of this expedition to destroy him,  the admiral sailed east on July 8th with only 23   warships. He had discarded the smaller ‘sea ear’  scout ships and replaced them with something   altogether more formidable and far more famous -  the kobukson, otherwise known as the turtle ship.  The turtle ship was twenty-eight meters  long, nine meters wide, and six meters high,   making it a fairly large ship for the time. It  sat low in the water, which allowed it to come   in under the massive Japanese castle ships  and blast their hulls with cannon fire and   archery. A sloping roof of planks bristling with  iron spikes was also laid on top of the hull,   encasing the vessel like the shell of a  turtle, hence the name. Around 15 of the   advanced Korean cannons were mounted on each of  these ships, along with a platform of archers.  With his ships ready for battle, Admiral Yi sailed  for Sacheon, where around 50 Japanese ships were   anchored, including 12 warships. The Japanese  troops were fortified on the cliffs above the bay,   where the Japanese commander - Wakizaka Yasuharu  - made his command post . Though Yi realised that   he could not risk closing with an enemy which  possessed such fire support from the land,   he also knew the Japanese capacity for  arrogance. So, he sent a small force   into the bay as bait and then had it turn  and retreat, as though fleeing in terror.   Seeing this apparent display of weakness,  Yasuharu’s men ran down from the heights   and embarked on their ships, pursuing  Yi’s navy into the middle of the bay.  Witnessing the success of his lure,  the Korean admiral ordered an assault,   with the invincible turtle ships leading  the advance. They crashed into the middle   of the enemy formation and unleashed a storm  of cannon fire and arrows in all directions,   causing massive losses among the Japanese vessels.  The nimbler Korean vessels were also again able to   avoid Japanese boarding actions. As his forces  neared victory and the enemy ships sank one at   a time, Yi was hit by a stray arquebus bullet  in the shoulder, but remained stoic. After the   enemy fleet had been destroyed, Yi supposedly  withdrew a knife and dug the bullet out with   it. When the battle was over, every ship which  had pursued him lay burning on the sea or sunk.  Victories kept on coming in the days after  Sacheon. Firstly, at Dang’po , Admiral Yi   defeated a 21-ship strong Japanese fleet, once  again using his turtle ships to break apart and   wreak havoc within the enemy formation.  Soon after, the Koreans advanced on a 26   strong anchored enemy armada at Danghangp’o  . All but one of the Japanese vessels were   destroyed after Yi lured them into the open  and smashed their battle line to pieces.  The land war was still not going well, but  Yi made sure the position of his realm was   supreme on the sea. Back in Japan, Hideyoshi  was livid at the continued resistance of this   small Korean fleet, and angrily ordered his  admirals Wakizaka Yasuharu, Kato Yoshiaki,   and Kuki Yoshitaka to cease their useless  inland plundering and annihilate Yi Sun-shin.   The advancing armies needed supplies and  reinforcements, but the Korean navy was stopping   them. At the time, Yasuharu’s 82 vessel fleet  was the only one ready for the upcoming fight,   and the proud daimyo chose to act alone.  He would gain the glory from crushing Yi.  The following morning - August 15th -  Admiral Yi deployed his fleet in a bay   near the island of Hansando. Admiral Won  wanted to just attack Yasuharu’s fleet,   but Yi refused. Rather than meeting Yasuharu’s  fleet in the narrows of Kyonnaerang where Yi’s   ships might collide with one another, he sent  six panokson warships forward as bait for a trap.   When these ships emerged into visual range of  the enemy, they switched direction and fled.   Predictably, the victory-hungry Japanese  fleet came barrelling in pursuit.   As they emerged into the open sea, the Korean  fleet spread into a semicircular Crane’s Wing   formation, light vessels on the flanks, while  the heavier ships formed a sturdy centre.  When everything was in place, Yi ordered a  charge. Immediately the more nimble wings   enveloped all of Yasuharu’s vessels, darting in  and out whilst showering the enemy with cannon   fire and archery. At the same time, the heavier  centre - fronted by three turtle ships - smashed   directly into the enemy formation. Shooting from  all sides, the monstrous turtle ships tore many   Japanese ships apart with cannon, while the  heavy panokson warships stayed at a distance,   using their advantage in artillery to  tear into the Japanese. In particular,   metal-cased fire bombs were shot from mortars  located on the decks of panokson craft.  Only when the opposing ships were crippled did  the admiral give the order to board and finish   them off in melee. After many hours of this  drubbing, Yasuharu realised he was defeated   and fled to a fast ship, barely managing to  escape. Two of his relatives - Wakizaka Sabei   and Watanabe Shichi’emon - were not so lucky,  and were killed in the fighting. Of 82 Japanese   vessels that had sailed through Kyonnaerang that  day, only 14 survived the Battle of Hansando.  The two colleagues of Yasuharu whom he had  left behind before the battle - Yoshitaka and   Yoshiaki - were quickly informed of the disaster.  They set sail immediately and reached Angolp’o,   where they ran into the battered remnants of  Yasuharu’s forces. One day later on the 16th   of August 1592, favourable winds prompted Yi  to follow his defeated foe, arriving outside   the Angolp’o harbour and deploying his navy  in the crane’s wing formation once again.   This time he faced a total of 42 Japanese warships  at anchor, protected by their own armaments,   land fortifications on the nearby coast,  and shallow waters in the bay itself.  Yi first attempted to lure the Japanese  out with bait as he had many times before,   but the Hansando experience wisened his enemy to  that tactic, and it garnered no response. Instead,   the Korean admiral changed tactics, arranging for  a continuous relay of ship squadrons to row into   cannon range, unleash their destructive artillery  volleys on the Japanese and then withdraw to   safety. This rolling bombardment was devastatingly  successful. Almost all of the ‘pirates’,   as Yi called them, were killed, especially on the  larger craft which had been the primary targets.  Seeing that a few ships had been left  undamaged, Yi now called his vessels off.   Many Japanese had escaped to the nearby shore  and would probably wreak a terrible vengeance   on Korean civilians if their means of escape  was destroyed. Aiming to avoid unnecessary   suffering among his people, the Joseon  fleet withdrew to open water for the night.   When they returned at dawn the following  day, all Japanese survivors had fled,   and the local inhabitants were unharmed. Yi  still had not lost a single vessel in combat.  At this point, Yi began to receive troubling  reports that ashigaru land armies were advancing   into Cholla, and consequently withdrew to his  base at Yeosu. Though some Japanese prisoners   had escaped the admiral’s wrath, it was only a  minor speck on what had otherwise been a great   naval campaign. Yi’s success was impressive.  He was beginning to strangle the life out of   Japan’s invasion, but his rise to become the  national hero of Korea was only just beginning.  While Yi Sun-shin was making a name for himself  in the seas of the south, in the north of the   country, the Japanese general Kato Kiyomasa,  sought to gain more glory as well. In early   September and after capturing and sending two  Korean princes down to Kyeong Seong with an armed   escort with an armed escort of 1000 men, Kato  prepared for a short incursion into Manchuria,   where Jurchen tribes lived. The Japanese called  these people Orangai, from the Korean word oranke,   which means barbarian. This symbolic expedition  against the barbarians across the Tumen river   served a more practical purpose as well; Kiyomasa  would be able to test his army against a possible   future foe and collect invaluable information  as to how the semi-nomadic Jurchens fought.   To aid him in this new military endeavor he  recruited Koreans from the Hamgyong province   to act as his guides and vanguard. The locals  had no love for the northern barbarians as the   latter frequently raided their villages, so they  were more than eager to offer their services to   the Japanese and a sizable force of 3000 Korean  allies was assembled, ready to serve Kiyomasa.   With his army now totalling around 11000 men,  Kato Kiyomasa became the first Japanese general   to cross into China; unbeknownst to him he would  also be the only one to do so at that time. They   soon came upon an Orangai castle and at dawn the  Japanese drew up their ranks and prepared for an   assault. However, they soon became aware that even  though the castle seemed formidable it was lightly   defended. As such the Koreans advanced on the  front of the fort while the Japanese troops went   around the mountain to the rear of the fortress  and working in groups of 50 or 30 they managed to   pull out the stones using crowbars and the wall  collapsed. The Japanese entered the castle and   after some fierce arquebus volleys they killed the  small garrison and captured the Jurchen fortress.   Despite this success, Kiyomasa, perhaps knowing  that a Jurchen counterattack was incoming,   decided to pull back towards the Korean  border and made camp for the night on a hill.   The following morning the Koreans headed back  across the Tumen leaving the Japanese to face   an army of around 10000 angry Jurchens. Although  Kiyomasa’s chronicler informs us that for every   Japanese dead the Jurchens suffered 30 casualties,  the attackers refused to give up and continued   their ferocious assault. So fierce was the fight  that at one point Kiyomasa’s standard bearer was   killed next to him and the Japanese general  had to hold it with his own hands. He also   gave orders that the heads of the enemies were not  to be collected as trophies but only counted, for   every samurai was needed for the fight. Even after  8000 heads were tallied the Jurchens continued to   fight. Their attack finally came to a stop when  an exceptionally heavy rain started falling in   a way that it blew directly into their faces  and so they withdrew. Well satisfied with his   troops performance and the results of this short  campaign, Kato Kiyomasa crossed in turn the Tumen   river and continued eastwards towards the seas  capturing a series of Korean forts along the way.  Kato Kiyomasa’s scouting expedition to Manchuria  was the closest the Japanese reached to invading   China, their true objective. But to amass a force  large enough to invade the Middle Kingdom they   needed to dominate the sea around Korea. However,  Admiral Yi inflicted defeat upon defeat on the   Japanese navy and one month after Kiyomasa’s  incursion over the Tumen river, he would strike   again putting an end to Japanese ambitions of  invading China. Following the extraordinary   success of the Hansando-Angolpo campaign, admiral  Yi had returned to his base at Yosu in the Cholla   Province. There his fleet was reinforced with  ships that had been hastily put into production   upon the outbreak of the war. With 166 vessels  under his command, 74 being large battleships,   Yi Sun-sin fathomed a plan to wash away the  national disgrace and directly attack Busan.   Joined by fellow commanders Yi Ok-ki and Won Kyun  he reached the estuary of the Naktong river on   the 4th of October and sent a scouting raft that  came back reporting that 500 Japanese ships were   anchored inside the city’s harbor. The size of  the Japanese fleet didn’t seem to deter the Korean   admiral who, emboldened by his previous victories,  decided to attack the following day. Facing a   strong east wind and fighting against the rough  seas the Korean fleet made its way towards Busan.   In the waters just off the harbor they encountered  24 Japanese ships organized in small groups.   These ships were easily burned and destroyed  and the Koreans entered the harbor itself;   witnessing the Japanese armada that was split  in 3 large masses anchored near the shore.   The Japanese crews realising that there was no  time to set sail and fight the enemy at the sea,   jumped overboard and headed for the fortifications  on the heights above the shore, from where they   would mount their defence. Just like Sacheon,  the Koreans approached as closely as they could   and bombarded the unmanned Japanese ships with  their cannons while also showering them with fire   arrows. The Japanese well protected behind their  fortifications tried to prevent the destruction   of their fleet by unleashing barrages of musket  fire and arrows and making use of Korean cannons   that had been captured in Busan and Dongnae,  whereas others were frantically trying to repair   their damaged ships. However, only the coming  of night could stop the Koreans who withdrew   to the open seas after destroying 130 Japanese  vessels. On the other hand only five Koreans   died during the battle and 25 were wounded.  This time as well, Admiral Yi lost no ships.   Emboldened by his triumphant victory he initially  wanted to return to Busan the following morning   and inflict further damage upon the Japanese but  reconsidered his choice as the sinking of the   entire fleet would leave the invaders trapped  in Korea with no avenue of retreat, something   Sun Tzu in his Art of War advises against. The  defeat at Busan and the loss of around a quarter   of their fleet extinguished any lingering hopes  the Japanese might have had of amassing an army   in the north large enough to invade China. ________________________________________  The victories Admiral Yi Sun-shin had won at sea  had prevented the entry of his Japanese foes into   the Yellow Sea, rendering them unable to reinforce  and resupply their armies on land. Meanwhile,   Korean ground forces behind the Japanese lines  were doing the same. In the countryside and   wilderness of the countryside, guerilla  armies began to form almost immediately,   reacting to the cruelty they and their countrymen  experienced at the hands of the enemy. Resistance   leaders such as Ko Kyong-myong, Cho Hon, and Kwak  Chae-u set up ambushes to trap enemy troops and   preyed on vulnerable Japanese supply barges  that were using Korea’s rivers for transport.   These actions further hampered the logistics  of Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s conquering army in much   the same way Admiral Yi was doing at sea.  Motivated partly by patriotism, and partly   by a desire to raise the social status of their  kin, an estimated 22,000 irregular fighters and   84,500 regular soldiers from the Yalu River in the  north to the Naktong Delta in the south rejoined   the fight as guerilla warriors in 1592, among  them 8,000 Buddhist monks. In November of 1592,   Korean guerilla forces contributed to the  successful defence of Jinju, a battle which   caused many Japanese casualties, and humiliated  the daimyo generals. Most crucially, all of the   chaos behind Hideyoshi’s lines was giving Korea  time, and time was exactly what Korea needed.  The bastion which guarded the Jeolla  province, Castle Jinju had a reputation   of being unassailable. Still untouched by the  war, Jeolla represented the potential of loot   for the invading Japanese troops. It also served  as the hideout for Gwak Jaeu’s Righteous Army,   one of the partisan groups assailing Japanese  supply lines. Thus, Ukita Hideie and Hosokawa   Tadaoki agreed that they had to capture Jinju,  and so they dispatched a 20000 men strong army   under the leadership of Kato Mitsuyasu, Hasegawa  Hidekazu, Nagaoka Tadaoki and Kimura Sigeji,   which after reconquering Changwon, arrived  outside the walls of Jinju on November 8.   Guarding the fortress was a 3,800 strong  Korean garrison led by Kim Shi-min,   who was determined to hold the fortified  city. The despite being direly outnumbered,   the Koreans had one advantage: their artillery,  for they were well equipped with cannons, mortars,   and bombs, as well as 170 new arquebuses  that were equal to those the Japanese used.  The Japanese army advanced from 3 sides, and  once the ashigaru gunners were in firing range,   they unleashed a volley in an attempt to scare  the garrison into surrendering the castle without   a fight. This ploy had paid off in the past, but  it wouldn’t work this time around. As the Japanese   came closer to the walls, the defenders unleashed  hell, as arquebus fire, bombs and heavy stones   fell on the attackers who weren’t expecting such  stiff resistance. After falling back for a while,   the Japanese resumed their offense, this time  under the cover of shields made of bamboo and   massed volleys from their arquebusiers. When the  besiegers reached the walls, they placed scaling   ladders, but the defenders, ignoring the bullets,  used axes and stones to smash the ladders.   Japanese labourers also constructed a siege  tower, and from its advantageous height,   the ashigaru fired over the walls and into the  city. For three days, wave upon wave of Japanese   attackers crashed on the walls of Jinju, only  to be pushed back by a hail of projectiles from   the defenders, who even threw flaming bundles of  straw filled with gunpowder down upon their foes.  Finally, on the night of the 11th, groups  belonging to the righteous army sent   by Gwak jae-u arrived to aid in the defense of  the castle. Because they were too few to be an   effective relief force, they went up on a nearby  hill, where they lit many torches so as to trick   the Japanese that a large force had flanked them.  The guerrillas were soon joined by 3000 more men,   forcing the Japanese to divert a portion of their  troops to guard against an attack from them.   Despite that, the besiegers remained focused on  their objective, but were still unable to overcome   the staunch Korean defense. On the final day,  the Japanese decided that if brute force wasn’t   enough, then maybe a clever stratagem could work.  In the early morning hours of November the 13th,   they illuminated their camp with more torches  than usual as to be visible by the Koreans,   and pretended to pack up their gear and prepare  to leave. At the time of a given signal,   the torches were extinguished and an all-out  assault on the opposite side of the city along   the northern and eastern gates was launched.  The Koreans rushed to defend, with Kim Shimin   in the van, fighting beside his men, only to have  a bullet mortally wound him in his left forehead,   but this was kept from his men so they would  not lose heart. The Korean garrison was already   in a perilous situation as ammunition was running  low, but they were saved when a Korean detachment   arrived by boat up the Nam river, bringing with  them supplies, and encouraging the defenders   to continue. With casualties once more piling  high, the Japanese commanders halted the attack.   Fearing a counterattack from the rear, they  decided, much to Hideyoshi’s fury, to abandon the   siege altogether and head back to Changwon under  the cover of a sudden downpour. The Korean army,   exhausted and low on supplies and ammunition,  didn't attempt to pursue the retreating Japanese.  The situation was about to become a lot worse  for the Japanese when, in late 1592, Ming China,   which had long been a suzerain and protector  of Korea, finally began its intervention in   the war. Initially, a Chinese expeditionary force  of 3,000 troops under the command of the reckless   Zu Chengxun was ordered to take Pyongyang,  but was destroyed when it became trapped and   outnumbered inside the city. While this victory  made the Japanese optimistic at first, the samurai   commanders soon realized that the Chinese would  be back soon, and in massive numbers. Worried   about this, and the vulnerable state of Pyongyang,  Konishi Yukinaga went south to Seoul in order to   meet with his supreme commander: Ukita Hideie, so  that they might discuss these urgent matters. It   turned out that Japanese anxieties were justified,  for in January of 1593, after crushing the Ningxia   revolt back home, the Chinese commander Li Rusong  slowly led a large army of Ming troops into Korea,   wisely using scouts and spies to gather  intelligence on Japanese positions as he advanced.  After some minor skirmishes, Li Rusong’s  forces approached Pyongyang on February 5th.   An initial Japanese sortie from the gates was  crushed by a feigned retreat, but it was clear   that recapturing the city would present a massive  challenge. Pyongyang enjoyed a strong defensive   position, flanked to the east by the Taedong River  and northwest by the Pothong River. Moreover, it   possessed some of Korea’s most formidable walls,  which had been continuously reinforced throughout   the centuries, forming a crude, elongated triangle  lying between the two rivers, within which were   six gates. Meanwhile, the entrances along  the Taedong River were left lightly defended,   with each of the four landward gates garrisoned  by 2,000 Japanese soldiers apiece. Moreover,   Konishi Yukinaga and 2,000 elite bodyguard  troops were deployed on Mount Moranbong,   a 70-meter-high fortified vista from which a  commanding view of surroundings could be had.   Overall, roughly 15,000 men of the  first contingent defended Pyongyang.  By the time he arrived at Pyongyang, Li  Rusong’s 43,000 strong Imperial army had   been further swollen by many thousands of  Koreans and 5,000 warrior monks. He set up   his own headquarters on high ground west of the  Pothong River, personally commanding 9,000 troops.   Around the city, the general distributed various  detachments under his subordinates to assault   the various gates. 10,000 soldiers under Zhang  Shijue were set up opposite the Chilsong gate,   11,000 under Yang Yuan formed up facing the  Pothong gate, and a further 10,000 under Li   Rubo prepared to assault the Hangu gate. Finally,  9,000 Koreans under their native commanders Yi Il   and Kim Ungso were ordered to the Changyong  gate. The Chinese cannons, capable of firing   large stones over two kilometers, were distributed  evenly around the siege lines under heavy guard.  After an attempt to assassinate Konishi  Yukinaga failed, the assault began.   Spearheading the assault were 3,000 warrior monks,  capable warriors under the command of Hyujong,   a master monk. On the morning of February 6th  1593, these brave religious warriors advanced   up the northern slope of Mount Moranbong,  attempting to scale the hill walls. In the   face of withering arquebus fire from the Japanese  on the fortifications, they suffered hundreds of   casualties, but persevered nonetheless. As the  defenders began to tire in the late afternoon,   the monks were joined by a Chinese unit under  We Weizhong, whose troops began to scale Mount   Moranbong from the west. This contingent began  to breach the area, streaming onto the mountain   behind Yukinaga’s lines. All of a sudden, Yukinaga  was surrounded, and there was a danger he would be   killed. At that moment, Sō Yoshitomo: a compatriot  of Yukinaga, led a counterattack from the main   city and broke the Chinese encirclement on Mount  Moranbong, allowing the remnants of Yukinaga’s   2,000 strong guard to retreat. That evening,  the Japanese abandoned the mountain, instead   taking up positions in their recently constructed  citadel, a construction of primitive earthworks.  The next morning, Li Rusong ordered a general  assault on Pyongyang with all forces engaged.   As the first blast of cannon fire sounded, the  general advanced at the head of his troops, only   to be met with a storm of Japanese arquebus fire,  rocks, arrows and boiling water. Aiming to blunt   this dogged resistance, Ming cannons continuously  battered the walls and gates of Pyongyang,   aiming to soften them up. At the same time,  incendiary bombs and fire arrows were loosed into   the city itself, causing chaos, setting fire to  buildings and even the forest outside of the city.   Under the hail of projectiles, Chinese and  Joseon casualties mounted, forming mounds   of corpses which their comrades climbed upon to  advance. To further stiffen his men’s resolve,   Li Rusong publicly killed a deserting soldier  and then offered 5,000 ounces of silver to any   brave man who would breach the walls first. With  the unbearable pressure of artillery bombardment   and the infantry assault, in addition to the  employment of the famous ‘cloud ladders’ of   Chinese siege warfare, Pyongyang’s defenses  broke. The Chilsong gate and the surrounding   wall collapsed, allowing Ming troops and surviving  warrior monks inside. Meanwhile, at the shattered   Pothong gate, Luo Shangzhi, swinging his  halberd, was one of the first to enter the city.  Now under intense pressure, the defensive  ring along the walls of Pyongyang fell apart,   resulting in a Japanese withdrawal to the inner  citadel. This hastily constructed fortification   was apparently built with holes in its side for  arquebusiers to fire through, which caused it to   look like a beehive. The sophisticated Chinese  officers, looking with scorn at the ‘primitive’   and ‘barbarian’ citadel, immediately ordered  an assault in massed ranks. This proved to be   a dreadful mistake. Japanese troops fired volley  after volley of arquebus shots into the tightly   packed Ming and Korean soldiers, causing massive  casualties and breaking the assault’s momentum.   When Yukinaga saw some enemies retreating from  the city altogether, he led a sortie from the   citadel in an attempt to break the siege, but was  methodically driven back by concentrated Chinese   cannon fire. As daylight waned, the Japanese were  still in control of the inner fortress, but were   badly bloodied. Li Rusong decided to pull his  men back for the night so that they could rest.   Meanwhile, inside the citadel, Yukinaga  held a war council. It was quickly decided   their position was untenable and  the Japanese decided to retreat.   Under the cover of darkness, the entire remaining  garrison quietly withdrew through the Changyong   gate and across the frozen Taedong River.  According to samurai Yoshino Jingoza’emon,   who was present during the retreat, wounded men  were routinely abandoned, while those exhausted   men simply crawled along the road. Yukinaga’s men  hoped to rest at a communication fort at Pungsan,   but it had been abandoned by its commander, who  assumed Yukinaga had already been annihilated.  This Ming-dominated victory at Pyongyang was  a change in momentum. While at the start of   the war the Japanese had seemed unstoppable,  it was now Li Rusong’s army that advanced,   and the Japanese who were in a headlong retreat.  Nevertheless, the Japanese sixth contingent under   Kobayakawa Takakage managed to lure Li into  a trap, defeating his army at the battle of   Byeokjegwan. This would prove to be one of the  biggest pitched battles of the invasion, and one   which the Chinese general only narrowly escaped  before withdrawing his army north to recover.  Having heard of the Ming victories  in the north and at Pyongyang,   a gifted Korean general known as Gwon Yul marched  2,300 troops to garrison the fortress of Haengju,   situated on a hill 13 kilometers north of Seoul.  The delay caused by Li Rusong’s tactical defeat   gave the Japanese some breathing room, and allowed  Ukita Hideie to march straight at Haengju with   30,000 soldiers, among whom including  the reconstituted forces of Yukinaga who   had regrouped after fleeing Pyongyang. They  would soon meet Gwon Yul’s army in the field,   fully expecting to crush the tiny and  bothersome force without any issue.   However, the ensuing battle would not go  the way the Japanese were expecting it to.  At 6am on the 14th of March 1593, Ukita’s army  encircled Haengju and marched up the slopes   leading up to it from all directions.  Unbeknownst to the Japanese, however,   the Koreans were waiting and ready for them. Dug  in behind formidable entrenchments, Gwon Yul’s   forces sent a barrage of bowfire, arquebus shots,  delayed-action mortar bombs, rocks and even tree   trunks down on the attackers. Most infamous were  the Korean hwacha: medieval rocket launchers   capable of loading up to 100 steel tipped rockets.  Despite this rabidly fearsome defense, Japan’s   numerical superiority paid off, and the Koreans  were forced back to the second defensive line,   but their artillery caused devastating casualties  upon the massed Japanese waves. Nine attacks were   made in total, and all nine attacks were repelled.  Overall, some sources claim up to 10,000 attackers   ended up dead or wounded. Outnumbered by more  than 10 to 1, Gwon Yul had gained victory.  This remarkable triumph prompted the Chinese  commander, Li Rusong, to once again move south.   Having been despondent after his prior defeat  against the Japanese, his huge Ming army now   advanced south once again. In Seoul, the situation  was horrible for the Japanese soldiery. Frostbite,   starvation and disease had worn down the  expeditionary army to around 53,000 total troops   from its original 150,000, and it was clear that  operations would need to cease for the time being.   The remaining armies of Japan decided  on a southward retreat to their coastal   fortress at Busan, and as a result, the  Chinese army liberated Seoul on May 19th.   After this, logistical constraints and a cautious  approach meant that the war ground down into a   stalemate, with neither side making any decisive  movements. Diplomacy also took place during this   unenforced truce, and Li Rusong sent envoys  to meet with the daimyo generals in Busan,   discussing topics such as troop withdrawal from  the provinces and assigning blame for the war.   Nevertheless, this was not an indication that  Japan was militarily spent, and the generals   now began to prepare for a punitive destruction  of Jinju. Hideyoshi’s forces had failed to take   the strongly fortified city in 1592, much to  their humiliation and dishonor, and they would   now avenge that loss. So, despite negotiating with  the Ming Chinese at the same time, Hideyoshi sent   the order to wipe Jinju off the map. Having  heard of the Japanese plans, the Koreans had   managed to assemble around 4,000 troops in  the city, ready to defend it to the death.  On the 20th of July 1593, supreme commander Ukita  Hideie arrived outside the city with an army   90,000 men strong, swollen by recent  reinforcements from the homeland. To the western   edge of the city, Konishi Yukinaga commanded  26,000 men, while his rival Kato Kiyomasa led   25,000 to the north. On the eastern flank of Jinju  was Ukita Hideie himself, with 17,000 troops under   his leadership. Behind these assault forces was a  ring of Japanese troops facing outward, to guard   against any possible Ming assault on the siege  lines. Furthermore, the besieging army placed   contingents on the hills near the city in order  to repel any reinforcements that came to relieve   Jinju. To the northwest Kobayakawa Takakage, the  victor of Byeokjegwan, held authority over 8,700   troops, while Mori Hidemoto were stationed to the  northeast with 13,000. Finally, Kikkawa Hiroie had   several thousand more across the Nam river,  to clean up any trouble to the city’s south.  Throughout July 21st, the Japanese laboured to  drain the newly built moat outside the city.   In this, they found limited success, as  outer sections of the dykes were destroyed,   and the channel was filled with rocks, earth and  brushwood. This set the stage for a general attack   on the landward side of the city the next day.  Using scaling ladders to storm the walls, Japanese   troops fought fiercely and almost penetrated  the city’s defenses, but clever Korean use of   artillery and fire arrows drove them back. As the  23rd dawned, large and static siege towers were   constructed in order to facilitate observation  and arquebus fire into the city. However,   this was not successful, as destructive Korean  cannon fire shot the towers to pieces one by one.  Things seemed to be looking better for  the defenders when a local army marched   toward Jinju from the east in an  attempt to relieve it. However,   these reinforcements were quickly pushed away  by Hidemoto’s northeast rearguard. On July 25th,   Hideie sent a message into the castle, calling on  Gim Cheonil, the garrison commander, to surrender.   The supreme commander received no reply.  Japanese forces tried again on the 26th.   This time a series of ‘tortoise shell wagons’  with boarded roofs were constructed, providing   protection for advancing troops while sappers  mined foundation stones from the ramparts. It   made some progress, but this assault was pushed  back when bundles of combustibles dropped off   the walls were set alight, burning the protective  shells. Nevertheless, it was becoming clear that   the garrison was running out of things to throw at  Hideie’s army. Undaunted by the previous failure,   Kato Kiyomasa ordered that new tortoise  wagons were to be readied, and this time   fireproofed by covering them with ox hide. On  the 27th a new attack began which focused on   the cornerstones of the northeastern section  of the wall. During the day, a heavy rainstorm   broke out which undermined the foundations,  eventually collapsing this pressured section.  Taking advantage of the breach, Japanese troops  began to storm the city through the gap. Korean   resistance collapsed almost immediately after  this. Gim Cheonil, observing events from a tower   in the centre of Jinju, decided to commit suicide  rather than surrender to the enemy. This was the   end of Jinju. Terrified civilians and soldiers  alike attempted to flee a brutal ensuing massacre   by jumping into the Nam River, but were cruelly  cut down on the far bank by Kikkawa’s troops. When   the chaos was over, Japanese records claim that  20,000 heads were taken in total, while Korean   annals claim 60,000 died at Jinju, a testament  to Japanese barbarism. The Nam River flowed red   with blood that night, and its banks were choked  with headless corpses as far as the eye could see.  Despite the totality and brutality of  this Japanese victory, it did little to   change the overall course of the war. Soon,  the Japanese were forced to retreat back   to the chain of coastal fortresses they  controlled in the south, known as wajo.   Negotiations began, a ceasefire was imposed and a  Ming emissary was sent to Japan to discuss terms   with Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Gradually, the daimyo  and their men started to return to their homeland.   To the north, the Chinese also withdrew  their expeditionary force home.   Though peace talks would continue for years  after this and the first invasion of Korea   was essentially over, the war was not done. King Seonjo arrived back in the Joseon capital   of Seoul on October 24th 1593 after an exile  of more than a year. Though the majority of   his country had been reclaimed, it was  completely drained of resources and its   population in the grips of terrible famine. Royal  treasuries sat empty, many productive settlements   had been destroyed, and much economic  devastation had been caused by the war.   The rebuilding effort would be headed by newly  appointed Prime Minister Ryu Seong-ryong, who   prioritized national defence. All over the nation,  and especially in the Japanese occupied south, the   Joseon government began to construct impregnable  mountain fortresses, situated to take advantage   of the terrain. Furthermore, modernisation reforms  in the Joseon military were undertaken from late   1593 onwards. Unit organization was tuned  and adjusted, and new weapons such as modern   firearms and more advanced battle tactics were  adopted. Reconstruction throughout the following   years gradually brought normalcy back to Korean  life, but this also came with the dangers which   had plagued King Seonjo’s government before the  war, as Factional court politics now re-emerged.  The labyrinthine rivalry between westerner  and easterner factions reignited with greater   intensity than before. The Prime Minister was  a prominent member of the easterner faction,   but going after a man of his lofty status was  too dangerous, so his enemies decided on a   softer target. Admiral Yi Sun-shin was a childhood  friend of Ryu Seong-ryong, and had recently been   promoted to commander of the Korean navy in the  south. In discrediting this decorated admiral,   the westerners had a mole: Yi’s underling Won  Gyun, who during the first Japanese invasion,   had cunningly intrigued against the victorious  Yi, constantly sending unfavourable reports   northward, grounded in nothing but lies. This factional infighting did not bode well,   especially since, as they were happening,  diplomatic failures between Japan and China   had provoked Toyotomi Hideyoshi  into preparing a second invasion.   In comparison to the grand continental conquest  envisioned in the prior assault, this second   attack was to be a simple grab for Korea’s  southern half. One of the most important lessons   learned by the daimyo was just how critical of  a threat the Korean navy was. So, the Japanese   commanders aimed to achieve supremacy at sea by  two means: assembling a far stronger fleet than   the one before, and weakening the enemy fleet by  neutralizing its prodigious commander: Admiral Yi.  To that end, Japanese forces began heavily  reinforcing their armies in Korea. In addition   to the roughly 20,000 remaining garrison troops in  the coastal wajo fortresses, 121,000 more soldiers   were to be mobilised. Under the supreme authority  of the fifteen-year-old Kobayakawa Hideaki,   Japanese soldiers ever so slowly began  returning to enemy soil in March of 1597.   After they did, Hideyoshi’s forces  did not launch an instant assault,   but instead stalled for months on  end waiting for harvest season.   By plundering local farmers during this plentiful  time of year, the Japanese forces could live off   the land more easily, relatively unaided by  vulnerable supply lines. Moreover, Hideyoshi’s   plan was to march through the southwest province  of Cholla - known as the breadbasket of Korea.  Before the land invasion even began, events at sea  were to prove utterly disastrous for the defenders   as Japanese intrigue bore fruit. Konishi Yukinaga  sent a spy named Yojiro to inform the Korean high   command that he was eager to extinguish his rival,  Kato Kiyomasa, for good. To this end, he provided   a precise location as to where the lethal Korean  navy could easily ambush the hated commander at   sea. The gullible Joseon court believed him, and  sent Yi Sun-shin the order to prepare the attack.   Upon receiving this order, Admiral Yi was  immediately suspicious. Not trusting the   Japanese-given information and thinking that this  sounded far too easy, the admiral refused to obey.   In response, officials were dispatched to  depose and arrest the heroic naval commander,   replacing him with none other than  the wily intriguer himself, Won Gyun,   who immediately began proving  himself totally incompetent.  Yi avoided execution by the skin of his teeth,  but was demoted to the status of a common soldier.   This Japanese ploy had worked wonders,  and it seemed the dangerous admiral Yi   was neutralized forever. Soon after this,  Yojiro once again informed the Joseon   court of a location they could easily ambush  another Japanese fleet. This time, however,   Admiral Yi was not present to advise caution. On the 17th of August, admiral Won Kyun, heavily   pressed by his superior, Kwon Yul, gathered the  entire Korean fleet, slightly over 200 ships and   set sail eastwards towards Busan. However, the  Japanese were well informed of the movements of   the Korean fleet through their network of spies  on the hills that overlooked Hansando. Three days   later, as the Korean ships neared Cholyongdo,  they encountered the main Japanese fleet,   which numbered 500 to 1000 ships strong, already  arrayed in a vast line. The battle had not even   begun and the Koreans were already on the back  foot, exhausted from the long day at sea and with   little faith in their leader’s abilities. Despite  the odds being heavily stacked against him,   Won Kyun ordered a general attack. The Japanese  feigned a retreat with the Korean’s pursuing them,   but afterwards they turned and drove them back.  After repeatedly moving back and forth, the   Japanese decided to finally attack with all their  might. In this charge they managed to destroy 30   Korean vessels, and because of this, the rest  of the terrified Korean fleet soon routed.  Despite this, the disaster was not yet over.  Some of the ships, having reached Kadok island,   decided to make a quick stop to refresh their  supplies in water. The island was garrisoned by   a large Japanese force and soon they were met with  3000 soldiers under Shimazu Yoshihiro’s banner,   who killed around 400 Koreans and  destroyed several more vessels.   Whatever remained from the Korean fleet continued  to retreat until they reached Chilcheollyang,   a narrow strait between Koje and Chilchon  island and stayed there for a week.   The defeat at Busan and the reprimand he received  from Kwon Yul severely crippled Won’s morale,   who retired to his flagship and refused to talk  to anyone, thus leaving the fleet headless.   The Japanese, after having experienced defeat  at the hands of Yi Sunshin time and again,   were now eager to exploit this naval success  to its fullest, and so they pursued the Korean   fleet westwards. Unaware of the incoming Japanese  attack, Won Kyun did little to plan a defense or   boost his men’s morale. Finally a few hours  after midnight, on August 28th, the Japanese   fleet numbering almost 500 ships and under the  light of a full moon reached Chilcheollyang.   Three guns signaled the attack and the Japanese  fell upon their prey with arrows and gun fire.   Any Korean ships which weren’t set on fire were  boarded, with their crews cut down. The Koreans   who were unaccustomed to night warfare, and  thoroughly demoralized, offered little resistance.   Some of them tried to escape by landing on the  nearby Koje island, but as it had been on Kadok   island, they were met with a Japanese ambush  party who mowed them down. Admiral Won also   met his fate as he was trying to escape to the  mainland. By dawn, all but 13 ships would be lost.   These ships were commanded by Bae Sol, who, having  realized that the straight was a dangerous spot,   had moved them farther away. These 13 ships would  later become the saviors of Korea at Myeongdong.  News of the disaster reached Seoul soon after  it occured, and the king swiftly made the only   decision he could: reinstating the disgraced Yi  Sun-Shin as supreme naval commander. With the   seas around Korea now swept clean of enemy ships,  the two Japanese ground thrusts began on September   11th, comprising Ukita Hideie’s 49,600 strong Left  Army and Mori Hidetomo’s 65,300 strong Right Army.   This was to be a brutal and pitiless invasion,  undertaken with a degree of savagery unseen in   1592. Hideyoshi orders now were to “Mow down  everyone universally, without discriminating   between young and old, men and women, clergy and  laity”. With this in mind, the advance began.  The Army of the Left marched through Jeolla  province and reached the fortified town of   Namwon on the 23rd of September 1597. The city  was situated on a flat plain with its only natural   being a river flowing to the south that acted as a  rather distant moat. Its walls were not very tall,   about 4 meters high, but were plastered with  shell-lime and tiny fragments of seashells made   it glitter in the sun, creating an impressive  spectacle. Between each gate and wall corner,   a bastion was formed to provide flanking fire  onto the gates. In the area around the city,   there was an alternative defensive position  just to the north, the sanseong of Kyoryong.   This mountain fortress was naturally more  suited to withstand the Japanese attack,   as the enemy would have to fight an uphill battle  through a heavily forested area. Because of this,   the Korean garrison of the Namwon had advocated  for abandoning the city and moving there. However,   the Ming general Yang Yuan, perhaps more confident  in defending a Chinese style fortification,   overruled them and chose to stay in Namwon; a  decision that would later prove to be fatal.  To Yang Yuan’s credit, the Ming general  didn’t sit idly waiting for the arrival   of the Japanese, but worked to  strengthen the city’s defenses.   Another three meters were added to the wall’s  height, and cannons were placed on the main   gatehouses. The defenders also dug a ditch 6  meters deep, enclosed by a wooden palisade,   while spiked tree trunks were laid at its bottom  to slow down the Japanese assault. Furthermore,   a fortified water reservoir was built outside  the walls to prepare the city for a lengthy   siege and fences were constructed on the fields.  Finally, as the defenses were almost complete,   Yang Yuan ordered the destruction of Kyoryong  to prevent the coming Japanese from using it.  When the Japanese army arrived, they  immediately besieged the city from all sides,   leaving no escape routes for the 12000 people  now trapped inside; half of them were civilians.   Hideie was in command of the southern sector,  while Konishi Yukinaga commanded the west,   Kurushima Michifusa and Kato Yoshiaka’s troops  covered the northern side, and 11 other generals   secured the eastern approach. Seeing that the  invaders were busy with constructing their own   defenses, the besieged garrison decided to sally  out, but were met with rapid volleys of arquebus   fire and were forced to retreat into the city.  The next day the Japanese started filling the   city’s defensive ditch with earth and straw,  all the while under heavy cannon, musket,   and arrow fire from the walls. When this was done,  many of their own arquebusiers crossed over, and   by taking cover in the burnt houses and the fences  outside the walls, began to harass the defenders.  That following evening, the Japanese sent a  delegation asking for the defenders to surrender.   This offer was, like on all other occasions,  rejected. As a result, the Japanese resumed their   offense with increased fervor, which continued  well into the night despite heavy rain. The   solution to the stalemate came for the besiegers  in the form of a clever stratagem. Witnessing the   still green rice stalks on the nearby fields,  they cut them, then tied them together in big   bundles. When darkness began to fall, the Japanese  unleashed a heavy cannon barrage accompanied by   arquebus fire that lasted for 2 hours and forced  the defenders to keep their heads down. Under   the cover of night and the suppressive volleys of  their guns, they quietly built a ramp out of the   rice stalks. As the barrage stopped, the Japanese  troops assaulted the walls, with the samurai   Matsuura Shigenobu reportedly leading the way.  Despite the valiant attempts of the defenders, the   city fell. Seeing that the city was doomed, the  Ming commander Yang Yuan led a detachment of 300   men out of the west gate, trying to break through  the enemy lines. Despite being wounded twice, he   and 100 of his men managed to escape the siege and  headed to Chonju, only to find the city deserted.   Thus, he continued towards Seoul. Back at Namwon,  the Japanese, now in total control of the city,   put combatants and civilians alike to the sword.  Keinen, a priest who was accompanying the army   as a physician, was so shocked by what he  witnessed that later wrote in his poems:  - “Whoever sees this, Out of all his days,  Today has become the rest of his life”.  As a final act of barbarism, they cut off the  noses of 3,726 dead, salted them, and then   shipped them back to Japan as proof to Hideyoshi  that they had fought and defeated their opponents.  Overall, in this second invasion, momentum  had thus far been solely on Japan’s side.   However, the tide would begin to turn when a small  number of Ming reinforcements, led by general Yang   Hao, managed to ambush and defeat Japanese forces  at Jiksan. This prevented any further incursions   toward Seoul, and marked the furthest Japan would  encroach into Korean territory. The daunting   prospect of more gigantic Chinese armies joining  the Koreans, and a forthcoming winter, meant that   turning back south was the only realistic  choice for the Japanese. With the invasion   on land stalling in late 1597, it is here that  Yi Sun-shin is thrust back into the limelight.   After being reinstated as naval commander in the  south, the Admiral had only thirteen ships to work   with. Nevertheless, his mere presence cheered  up the local population, who often greeted him   as a savior. “Our admiral has come again, now  we can be safe!” shouted one local peasant.  However great his bravery or ability, what could  admiral Yi do with only 13 ships against hundreds?   Firstly, he set about reasserting discipline and  order. Guards were posted to protect armories   and storehouses, cowardly officials were  reprimanded and sent back to work, officers   and enlisted men were flogged for dereliction,  and civilians were punished for any offense.   Through these harsh means, Yi restored to  himself what traditional Chinese military   doctrine dubbed ‘awesomeness’: the mix of fear and  respect a leader needed to command effectively.   Reaching his small fleet at Hoeryongpo, he  immediately retrofitted all vessels to serve   as makeshift turtle-ships, with sturdy timber  sides and spiked roofs to protect the crews.  When this was done, Yi sailed kilometers west  to Oranpo, which had a more open harbour.   It was about this time that Yi received  intelligence that the main Japanese war   fleet was after him, so he retreated to the island  of Chindo, further to the west. A 13-strong scout   fleet tried to destroy Yi on the 17th of October,  but was fought off without much difficulty.   In the days after this minor skirmish, the  main Japanese fleet arrived at Oranpo and began   building up its strength. As they did, Yi spent  his time carefully observing the properties of   surrounding bodies of water, noting the current  speed, direction, and time of the tide. Of   particular interest to the admiral was the narrow  Myeongnyang Channel, a stretch of water only 250   meters wide at its narrowest point. The current  was also among the fastest in all Korea, moving at   a faster speed than Japanese ships could travel.  This was a perfect place to make a final stand.  On October 24th, Yi received further intelligence  that a 200-ship-strong Japanese fleet was closing   in on his position. In response, he pulled his  fleet through the Myeongnyang strait the next day,   anchoring his ships in the open water just  outside it. Beyond Yi’s 13 combat vessels was   a long line of fishing boats packed with refugees.  By arranging these vessels in a mock battle line,   the admiral hoped that the Japanese would assume  his own squadron was merely the vanguard of a   larger force. That night, with everything set  as he wanted, Yi summoned his commanders to an   audience, telling them that “He who seeks death  shall live! He who seeks his life shall die!”.  At dawn, the next day, the main Japanese armada  of two to three hundred vessels approached the   southern end of the Myeongnyang Strait. As Yi had  predicted, this huge mass of ships was unable to   pass through the narrow channel of Myeongnyang in  one group, and thus began to split into separate   squadrons. Everything was going according to Yi’s  plan. It was only when the first enemy ships began   to emerge into the open water that Yi ordered the  attack. The Japanese fleet had not realised the   Koreans were there, but were finally notified by  the cannons and fire arrows that began to attack   them. However, as the admiral’s flagship blasted  the stunned enemy warships, the other ships in   his fleet began to lag behind, witnessing the  extraordinary odds they faced. However, threats of   punishment and Yi’s dogged determination motivated  his captains to catch up and fight. At this point,   the meager 13-ship Korean fleet was completely  enveloped by at least 130 Japanese vessels.  The battle that ensued was unlike anything  the Korean navy had ever experienced before.   Outnumbered by biblical proportions, their  stronger ships rammed their weaker counterparts   with reinforced prows, blasted them from  all sides with point-blank cannon fire,   and set them alight with fire arrows. The  massive Japanese flagship suffered the brunt   of this battering and was soon in flames, and  sunk shortly after. Despite outnumbering their   foes by such a massive margin, the Japanese  still could not even touch Yi’s ships. Assault   after assault was made up the narrows by the  numerically superior Japanese, but Yi’s flagship   stood like a castle at the mouth of Myeongnyang,  leading the defence which repelled each attack.  Then, as the great admiral had anticipated,  Myeongnyang’s northward current suddenly reversed,   pulling the attacking Japanese ships back into  the narrows. They quickly became bunched together,   some even smashing into one another and sinking.   At this moment, the Koreans attacked with  the tide at their back, inflicting massive   casualties on the hapless Japanese fleet  as the clash shifted back into the narrows.   By the time Hideyoshi’s reinforced fleet managed  to squeeze back through the narrows and into   open water, 31 of its ships had been destroyed.  Once again, Admiral Yi had lost no ships at all.  Badly shaken by their experience in  the channel, the Japanese armada fell   back all the way to Busan. It would  not gain access to the Yellow Sea,   nor would it venture this far west to challenge Yi  again. Unfortunately for the triumphant commander,   bad news arrived a month after the victory  at Myeongnyang: his son had been killed   defending his home from invading Japanese  soldiers. Yi was deeply affected by this,   and he fell into a deep depression. Carrying  this weight on his shoulders, he nevertheless   began to rebuild the Joseon Kingdom’s naval  power. By March of 1598, 61 warships were   ready for combat and a further 39 were under  construction at the many shipyards of Korea.  Accompanying the successes at sea were further  victories on land. Ming reinforcements had arrived   and, joining with the Korean forces, now pinned  the land armies of Hideyoshi in their chain of   coastal fortresses. Then, on September 18th 1598,  Toyotomi Hideyoshi passed away at the age of 62.   This was the final nail in the coffin of  Japan’s attempted Korean conquest. One   of the great Kwampaku’s final orders was  for the conflict to be brought to an end,   and for all soldiers to return home. Both  Hideyoshi’s son Hideyori, and other powerful   daimyo such as Tokugawa Ieyasu were also eager to  see the costly war stopped. In addition, the Ming   were receptive to the idea of allowing Konishi  Yukinaga and the other wajo garrisons to escape   back to their homeland unharmed. The vengeful  Koreans, however, were not going to accept this.  Putting Korea’s newfound dominance at sea  to good use, Admiral Yi tightly blockaded   Yukinaga inside Suncheon. Despite Yi’s insistence  that the Japanese would not be allowed to escape,   Yukinaga’s diplomatic pressure on the Chinese  eventually allowed one ship to escape. This   craft then signaled the rest of Japan’s wajo naval  forces to rendezvous inside the bay at Sacheon,   to prepare for the voyage home. After Yukinaga  failed to show up, the Japanese forces realised   the situation he was in, and sent 500 ships  to break the blockade. Informed by scouts and   local fishermen as to what was happening, Yi  anticipated that the Japanese would take the   direct route between Sacheon and Suncheon,  through the Noryang strait. He was correct.  Having drawn up his ships in the open  sea just west of the narrow strait,   a surprise attack was launched at  2am on the 17th of December 1598.   Within hours, almost half the Japanese fleet was  burned or sunk. Admiral Yi was in the thick of   the fighting, wielding a bow personally when the  allied Chinese flagship was attacked. By dawn,   Japan’s ships were retreating, and Yi ordered  a ceaseless pursuit. As the Koreans caught up,   a stray arquebus ball from a Japanese sharpshooter  struck Yi Sun-shin in the left armpit. The great   admiral was dead in minutes, but 450 out of the  500 enemy ships were shattered at Noryang. The   tactical brilliance shown by Yi in this battle,  at Myeongnyang, Hansando, and others had probably   saved Korea. To this day, Admiral Yi Sun-Shin is  among Korea’s most venerated historical figures.  By the closing days of 1598, all  Japanese forces had left Korea.   With their departure, the devastating six years  long conflict was finally over. Nevertheless,   the effects of the war would be profound for  all three nations that took part in it. In 1600,   the only prominent daimyo who avoided draining  his resources in the costly Korean expedition,   Tokugawa Ieyasu, was able to triumph over a  loose coalition of his enemies at Sekigahara.   Many of the daimyo who were defeated  in that battle had fought in Korea,   including Ukita Hideie, Mori Hidemoto,  and Konishi Yukinaga. As we might expect,   Yukinaga’s bitter rival Kato Kiyomasa fought on  the other side, and finally got his own back.   As a result of Sekigahara, the Tokugawa clan would  rule Japan for two and a half centuries to come.   The victorious Ming and Joseon dynasties  were gravely weakened by the war with Japan,   making them easy prey for other invaders from  the north. In 1644, the 278-year-old Ming dynasty   finally collapsed due to a fatal cocktail of  internal rebellion and Manchu intervention.   Their subsequent Qing dynasty would last  until 1912, and would prove to be generous   overlords to the Koreans, whose ‘hermit  kingdom’ remained independent and largely   cut off from the world until Japan’s  Imperial restoration in the late 1800s. Special thanks to our sponsor TokyoTreat  and SakuraCo - get five dollars off a   box of japanese treats with our link  and discount code in the description,   and enter SakuraCo’s free  ticket to japan giveaway. We always have more stories to tell, so make  sure you are subscribed and have pressed the   bell button. Please, consider liking, commenting,  and sharing - it helps immensely. Our videos   would be impossible to make without our  kind patrons and youtube channel members,   whose ranks you can join via the links  in the description to know our schedule,   get early access to our  videos, access our discord,   and much more. This is the Kings and Generals  channel, and we will catch you on the next one.

Channel: Kings and Generals

Views: 496,493

Keywords: yi sun-sin, imjin war, invasion of korea, turtle ship, korean navy, japanese invasion of korea, korean cannons, decisive battles, history documentary, documentary film, full documentary, military history, history lesson, samurai, daimyo, nobunaga, sengoku jidai, sekigahara, ninja, ashigaru, Nagashino, toyotomi hideyoshi, kato kiyomasa, kyongsang navy, kings and generals, king and generals, animated historical documentary, world history, animated documentary, baisan, battle, chungju

Id: 5TA5gb1beqo

Length: 88min 20sec (5300 seconds)

Published: Sun Jan 08 2023