Showing posts with label Ishida Mitsunari. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ishida Mitsunari. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Principled Warfare II: Samurai Combat Done Right (And Wrong)


Welcome to installment 2 of our 5 part series on the Joint Operating Principles and their application to pre-modern Japanese warfare. Go here for the Introduction and Part One of the series, where I examined the Principles of Objective, Offensive, and Mass. Today we’ll look at Maneuver, Economy of Force, and Unity of Command. Since I already did the explanation of what we’re doing in the first post, I’ll just jump into it today.

Maneuver

(1) The purpose of maneuver is to place the enemy in a position of disadvantage through the flexible application of combat power.

(2) Maneuver is the movement of forces in relation to the enemy to secure or retain positional advantage, usually in order to deliver—or threaten delivery of—the direct and indirect fires of the maneuvering force. Effective maneuver keeps the enemy off balance and thus also protects the friendly force. It contributes materially in exploiting successes, preserving freedom of action, and reducing vulnerability by continually posing new problems for the enemy. [1]

Every military commander wants to be in the best position to attack and destroy the enemy. Sometimes that means moving around to the side or rear and surprising him; sometimes it means getting to a certain place, like the defensible high ground, first before the enemy so you have the advantage that location gives you. The way this is done is through maneuver, which as the second bullet says is moving in relation to the enemy to gain the advantage. Like in a wrestling (or judo, or whatever) match, you want to pin your opponent and prevent them from escaping while at the same time being free yourself to move how you want.

The first example for maneuver that we’ll look at is the engagements between the Uesugi and Takeda at Kawanakajima. While everyone remembers the violent and bloody 4th Battle of Kawanakajima in 1561, it is important to keep in mind that the two sides faced off at the same location three times before that (1553, 1555, 1557), and one time after (1564). In each of these other contests, the opposing armies withdrew after posturing and minimal combat. What was the difference between these four engagements and the 1561 battle? Maneuver...or rather, lack thereof.

In the first three engagements, both sides arrived at Kawanakajima (a plain in northern Shinano province, which now is the location of Nagano City) and took up defensive positions on high ground on either side of the plain. The terrain is such that neither side could venture into the center without exposing itself to attack, and neither side could determine a way to maneuver around the enemy’s flank without abandoning its defensive position. Consequently, after sitting for a while and watching each other, both Kenshin and Shingen would realize the other wasn’t going to make a mistake and move, and so they would retreat to conduct operations elsewhere.

Takeda Forces Maneuver Across the River at Kawanakajima
4th Kawanakajima, however, is different, because at the 1561 contest, one side concocted a scheme to tactically maneuver and gain an advantage. It’s interesting to note that the sides in this engagement were quite larger (20,000 Takeda vs 12,000 Uesugi, about 40% more on each side) than previous battles. Why is this important? Because with 20,000 troops, Takeda Shingen had enough that he felt he could split his force in two, maintaining some defense on the hills to the south of the Kawanakajima plain while maneuvering a force around the hills the Uesugi occupied to the north, attacking them from the rear and catching them between his two forces. He understood he needed to move his forces, or maneuver, to put them in a position of advantage relative to the Uesugi. 

Unfortunately for Shingen, Uesugi Kenshin saw what he was doing, and also maneuvered his force to take advantage of the situation. Kenshin moved under the cover of darkness from his positions on the high ground down to the valley below and attacked Shingen’s weakened position, almost overrunning it before the detached force that was supposed to surprise the Uesugi arrived to salvage what was becoming a Takeda defeat. Historians debate who was the victor in this battle (for the record, the Uesugi clearly won a tactical victory in my eyes, as they destroyed a higher percentage of the Takeda force than they lost, and defeated Shingen’s tactical plan), ultimately it doesn’t matter as the end operational and strategic result was the same as the previous battles—both sides retreated with no strategic or operational gain. The 1564 battle was a return to the previous pattern, with both sides setting up defensive positions, observing the other side, and eventually withdrawing. I guess Shingen and Kenshin had learned their lesson three years previously.

Fighting at Yamazaki, 1582
Another example of maneuver (among other things) winning a battle is the 1582 Battle of Yamazaki between Hashiba (later Toyotomi) Hideyoshi and Akechi Mitsuhide. If you’ll recall, Mitsuhide had just assassinated Oda Nobunaga, hegemon of central Japan, 13 days earlier and effectively controlled the capital of Kyoto. No rivals were in position to stop his takeover, as they were all engaged fighting Nobunaga’s campaigns in other theaters. Hideyoshi completed a hasty peace with the Mori, whom he was beating pretty badly at this point, and rushed his forces back to the capital region to engage the Akechi. While we can travers his route from the Okayama area to Kyoto now in an hour or two on the bullet train these days, for him to end fighting, negotiate a peace settlement, and turn his 20,000 man army around and march them all the way to Yamazaki to encounter Mitsuhide’s force is staggeringly impressive. His ability to maneuver completely took Mitsuhide by surprise and gave him considerable advantage.

At the tactical level, maneuver played a huge part at Yamazaki as well. The battle began as a race to the promontory of a mountain, as each side recognized that holding the high ground would be key to deciding the battle. Without going into too much detail, forces under Hideyoshi got their first, claiming the terrain and putting the Akechi forces at a distinct tactical advantage.

Economy of Force

(1) The purpose of economy of force is to expend minimum essential combat power on secondary efforts in order to allocate the maximum possible combat power on primary efforts.

(2) Economy of force is the judicious employment and distribution of forces. It is the measured allocation of available combat power to such tasks as limited attacks, defense, delays, deception, or even retrograde operations to achieve mass elsewhere at the decisive point and time.

This Principle boils down to using the bulk of your resources to accomplish those key tasks necessary for victory, and not on things that have little or no effect on the success or failure of the operation. To do otherwise is wasting your efforts. Consider attacking an enemy castle: if you have good security and are not worried about enemy forces coming from elsewhere to attack you from the rear, you would not leave half of your force to guard your supply train. A few soldiers left behind to raise any warning necessary and watch your horses would suffice, while the bulk of your army attacks the castle, to put the necessary mass (see, they all relate) in position (i.e., maneuver) to exploit the weak points in the enemy’s defenses. 

Ueda Castle, where Tokugawa Hidetada wasted time and did not practice Economy of Force!
Economy of force is perhaps best described through an example where it failed. During the 1600 Sekigahara campaign, Tokugawa Ieyasu charged ahead west with his main force to confront Ishida Mitsunari’s coalition in central Japan, meeting them in battle at Sekigahara in Mino province. Ieyasu’s son, Tokugawa Hidetada, was sent along a different route with 38,000 men to meet his father at the battlefield; together they would have had overwhelming force against the enemy. However, along the way Hidetada passed Ueda Castle, held by the Sanada family who opposed the Tokugawa, and he decided to attack it despite orders from his father to bypass it and hurry along to the main battlefield. Even though he only spent a short amount of time trying to take Ueda before he gave up and moved on, it was enough of a delay that Hidetada’s force missed the Battle of Sekigahara completely. Thankfully for the Tokugawa, due to other Principles we will discuss in a bit, the Tokugawa won the day and went on to rule Japan for over 250 years. However, Hidetada’s 38,000 troops were completely wasted, and could have been the difference between victory and defeat. You better believe Tokugawa Ieyasu let his son know this! 


Unity of Command

(1) The purpose of unity of command is to ensure unity of effort under one responsible commander for every objective.

(2) Unity of command means that all forces operate under a single commander with the requisite authority to direct all forces employed in pursuit of a common purpose. During multinational operations and interagency coordination, unity of command may not be possible, but the requirement for unity of effort becomes paramount. Unity of effort—the coordination and cooperation toward common objectives, even if the participants are not necessarily part of the same command or organization—is the product of successful unified action.

You’ve no doubt heard the phrases “Too many cooks spoil the batter” or “too many chiefs, not enough Indians”. These both allude to the fact that systems work best with one person in charge giving one vision for the rest to follow. This is why the military is not a democracy. Operations simply do not work if everyone involved gets to do their own thing. There must be one commander, and everyone has to work towards his objective for things to succeed.

Let’s return to Sekigahara for a perfect example of Unity of Command in action. On one side, you had Tokugawa Ieyasu, a clear leader. Respected by all, even his enemies, there was no doubt who was in charge of the eastern forces. Daimyo that chose to side with the eastern side were choosing to be led by Tokugawa Ieyasu; there was no challenge to his leadership.

On the western side, you had…well, you had a loose coalition. There were a variety of motivating factors for daimyo to choose the western side: loyalty to Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s memory, fear of Tokugawa Ieyasu, a vague sense of how things should be. One thing that wasn’t a motivation was strong coalition leadership. Ishida Mitsunari, the de facto head of the anti-Tokugawa, pro-Toyotomi forces, was generally disliked by most of the daimyo in the coalition. He was not seen as a strong leader, and was not even seen as an equal by many of the daimyo in the western coalition. Several prominent daimyo chose to join the Tokugawa, motivated by their hatred of Mitsunari (Kato Kiyomasa is the most notable example); changing the political leadership of the country was preferable to having to work with “that guy”. Though in command, Mitsunari wasn’t even the “head” of the western coalition; that fell to Mori Terumoto, who wasn’t present at Sekigahara, and who was a representative of Toyotomi Hideyori, the seven year old heir of the late Hideyoshi.

Shimazu Yoshihiro, as seen at Sekigahara Warland Theme Park
This lack of unity of command for the western forces seriously hampered their efforts. Several daimyo delayed their movement east towards the campaign; some, tasked to besiege and take Tokugawa held castles west of Kyoto, took their time to do so. Shimazu Yoshihiro didn’t see Ishida Mitsunari as a leader at all, and took umbrage with being gruffly ordered around. This caused Yoshihiro to sit on the battlefield and brood, waiting until after combat had been taking place for a while before committing his forces. Even more detrimental were the defections of several leading Western daimyo, most notably Kobayakawa Hideaki and Kikkawa Hiroie, whose combined 18,000 men falling on the flank of the Western force they were supposedly a part of (their actions encouraged by Tokugawa Ieyasu, of course) turned a close battle into a rout. (Edited note: this is not a blow-by-blow of tactical action at Sekigahara, which was obviously much more nuanced. I'm illustrating a point, that is all. Don't get bent out of shape because I simplify things.)

Had the western army had any unity of command, Japanese history would likely be very different. They had a number of tactical advantages (better terrain, more troops) that could have resulted in coalition victory, had there been any unity of command or unity of effort. Even a coalition can be very successful if the coalition members all strive towards the same goal. However, that didn’t happen, and the strongly-led Tokugawa forces took advantage of it.

Well, there you have it. Next time we’ll look at the Three S’s: Security, Surprise, and Simplicity. See you then!

The above comments represent the views of the author only, and should not be interpreted to represent the views or official position of the United States Army or the Department of Defense. 

MAJ Nate Ledbetter
Intermediate Level Education Class 12-002
Staff Group D
Fort Gordon, Georgia


[1] Department of Defense. Joint Publication 3-0, “Joint Operations” Washington, D.C.: 11 August 2011. Pg. A-2.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

WARNING-Tea Can Be Hazardous To Your Health: The Death of Sen-no-Rikyu

Last night I checked out two excellent articles-“Tea and Counsel-The Political Role of Sen No Rikyu” in Monumenta Nipponica from Beatrice Bodart-Bailey, one of my favorite historians, and also “Tea Politics, Christianity, Diplomacy and the Economics of the Korean Wars” by Maria Petrucci. “Tea Politics” had little to say about Rikyu but did have some interesting observations. One of them is another aspect of the tea culture daimyo could use to their advantage-they could reward trusted vassals with ‘rare and valuable’ tea utensils rather than having to give up more in the way of a stipend or land. There were also some amusing early examples of the ‘ugly Westerner’, where the Jesuits and western traders called these same tea utensils ‘fit only for using in a birdcage’ and ‘not even worth two pennies’. Bodart-Bailey’s article was fascinating and shows Rikyu to have been quite the political schemer, not the ‘simple man of tea’ that he is usually portrayed as in novels, movies, and the popular imagination. She presents a convincing argument that his death was the result of the end of the warring states, a conflict within the ranks of Hideyoshi’s retainers over how to deal with the Date, the death of Hideyoshi’s son, and Rikyu’s non-samurai status.

Bodart-Bailey deconstructs and pretty much lays to rest all of the other theories that are given to explain Rikyu’s death sentence, showing the most popular ones (the ‘statue on the gate’ and his alleged corruption in dealing/evaluating tea utensils) to be little more than formal excuses used to order his death (much like Tokugawa Ieyasu used ‘Hideyori’s bell’ as the excuse for the Osaka campaign). An interesting note is that Rikyu was originally ordered to be crucified, but he was instead allowed to commit seppuku and the STATUE was crucified! She also shows that there is little evidence that Rikyu used his tea utensil dealings to enrich himself, and that what he did was very much in line with what other well regarded tea masters did. He also left very little wealth behind for his family, another factor that points to him not having exploited the tea utensil angle. As for ‘he came into conflict with Hideyoshi over Korea’, this seems to be utter BS lifted from novels-none of his letters or other evidence exist to support it, and Rikyu was certainly not averse to taking part in waging and planning war, something his letters are full of. There was also the theory Rikyu was killed because he converted to Christianity (no evidence that he did). As for the theory concerning Rikyu’s daughter, the ‘widowed daughter’ that Hideyoshi supposedly coveted as a concubine was not a widow at the time of Rikyu’s seppuku. There was also the theory that Hideyoshi’s extravagant style of tea clashed with Rikyu’s simpler ascetic, but this is also shown to have not been the case.

It looks rather that Rikyu was just outmaneuvered and destroyed by opposing factions within the Toyotomi camp, led by the younger retainers in general and Ishida Mitsunari in particular. Rikyu didn’t help his cause with Hideyoshi by thumbing his nose at him over the years. For example, when the Buddhist cleric Kokei Shuchin was ordered exiled by Hideyoshi, Rikyu gave him a ‘going-away tea ceremony’-in the tea room located in Hideyoshi’s Jurakudai pleasure palace!

Bodart-Bailey’s argument is that Rikyu came to power acting as a messenger and facilitator for Hideyoshi. His position as a tea master meant that he had access to many important merchants and daimyo, had a master-disciple relation with many of them that demanded their respect (which the ‘upstart Hideyoshi’ used to his advantage, since many of these same men wouldn’t even think about bothering to reply to him directly), and had the time and opportunity to act as a messenger when Hideyoshi’s generals were usually busy with campaigning.

However, as Hideyoshi slowly gained more power, the wars died down and his samurai returned to being administrators and the offices of power began to get more formalized. At this time Rikyu had a tremendous amount of influence with Hideyoshi, since the Taiko could no longer micromanage things like he used to and had to rely on his closest advisors on many matters. This made Rikyu a perceived threat and a target for many of Hideyoshi’s ambitious vassals, and lacking a real power base with troops and territory, he didn’t prove hard to disgrace and discredit. After all, he was a merchant’s son in a high position, an anomaly in the Toyotomi power structure. His situation worsened when Hidenaga (his primary supporter/protector and Hideyoshi’s brother) died. This was also about the time Hideyoshi’s first son died, and Hideyoshi was filled with rage brought on by grief-a situation that usually ends up with someone else being the brunt of that misplaced rage.

The factional struggle between the Toyotomi ‘centralists’ (led by Ishida Mitsunari) and the ‘decentralists’ (led by Tokugawa Ieyasu and Rikyu) over how to deal with the Date (who, after ostensibly paying homage to Hideyoshi at Odawara, appeared to be rebelling afterwards) seemed to be the incident that sealed Rikyu’s fate. The centralists advocated a military solution-the decentralists, negotiating. While the decentralists won, this caused the centralists to make an issue out of all of Rikyu’s scheming and differences of opinion with Hideyoshi over the years. Ishida is accused in particular of having a grudge against Rikyu-there are contemporary accounts of him torturing Rikyu’s widow and daughter after Rikyu’s suicide. While there’s no evidence to back these accounts up, it does indicate that there was a good level of animosity between the two. Rikyu had slowly fallen out of favor with Hideyoshi over the years, and it looks like the Taiko threw him as a bone to Mitsunari in order to mollify him for the Date incident.

Rikyu compared himself to Sugawara Michizane in his death poem-both men that fell victim to the scheming of political opponents, so it seems that Bodart-Bailey’s thesis seems to be the correct one.

There’s other great information in these articles as well. For example, it appears Oda Nobunaga suddenly became interested in tea when he wanted to gain the favor and enlist the aid of Imai Sokyu-a tea master/merchant/arms dealer who was instrumental in getting the city of Sakai to accept Oda suzerainty.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Selling Sekigahara: The Legacy Of The Taiga Drama

One of the more popular manifestations of pop culture history in Japan is the yearly Taiga Drama produced by national public TV station NHK. Beginning in 1963 and usually based on popular historical novels, they’ve featured virtually every period of Japanese history. They can range from sticking to history closely (2000’s Aoi Tokugawa Sandai) to deviating wildly from it (2003’s Musashi). This year’s drama, Tenchijin, falls in between the two extremes as far as historical accuracy goes. The story of Uesugi vassal Naoe Kanetsugu seems to have proven popular among both Japanese audiences and Western ones alike. With a new hour long episode every week of the year, it provides something for Japanese history buffs to look forward to on a regular basis. Most Taigas have a short ‘historical’ segment at the end, providing background on one of the personalities or places featured during the main body of the episode, helping to spark curiosity and boost tourism. These short segments reinforce the mini-boom of interest in the subject matter that Taigas create, with documentary programs, books, biographies, movies, video games (there have actually been licensed video games based on the official Taigas), board games, and all sorts of novelty merchandise being created to cash in on heightened awareness. Tenchijin is no different, not only making Naoe a ‘star’, but also popularizing his cohort Ishida Mitsunari. Ishida was the ill-fated commander of the so-called ‘Army of the West’ opposing the eventual victor Tokugawa Ieyasu and his ‘Army of the East’ in the Sekigahara campaign. Sekigahara was also the epitome of Naoe’s career, as he and the Uesugi clan played a major part in how the campaign in the northeast played out. This past October was the anniversary of Sekigahara, and late September saw a slew of new books, games, and the like released to tie in with Tenchijin (although not as many as were seen during the battle’s 400th anniversary in 2000 in conjunction with the Aoi Tokugawa Sandai Taiga). This week, we’re going to be taking a look at some of these Japanese language releases.

Most Shogun-ki readers will be familiar with Rekishi Gunzou, Gakken’s lavishly illustrated pop culture ‘mooks’ (a hybrid of a magazine/book). They’ve produced many mooks dealing with Sekigahara over the years (and reprinting a lot of the same stuff with a new title), but this September added a new twist to Sekigahara. They released ‘Sekigahara No Tatakai (関ヶ原の戦い, Battle of Sekigahara)’…in 3-D. Yes, there’s a pair of 3-D glasses bound into the book with a large fold-out map that features a 3-D view of the battlefield complete with troop positions. This is the only part of the 96 page book to get the 3-D treatment-but the combination of maps of the campaign and the battle, gorgeous artwork, photos of artifacts, and engaging text make it an entertaining and fun read. There’s a four page timeline of events from the campaign along with the page numbers in the book where they’re examined. There are over three dozen maps (divided among traditional ‘plain’ maps and bird’s eye views of the battles in progress), and every aspect of the campaign is covered. Whether you want to know about the activities of Kato and Kuroda in Kyushu, Hidetada’s dalliance with the Sanada at Ueda Castle, the battles around the Maeda holdings in Kaga, the many castle sieges, or the fighting between the Uesugi and Date factions in northeast Japan, you’ll find them all multiply mapped out. There are extensive sidebars that examine the key figures and commanders of the campaign as well. For lesser known figures, there’s an additional section full of mini-biographies. Finally, the reverse side of the large 3-D fold out map shows the layout of Sekigahara today along with rail stations and directions to tourist attractions on the battlefield, each of which has an accompanying photograph. This little treasure is cover priced at ¥1300.

Released a bit earlier this year was a similar work, Kessen Sekigahara (決戦関ヶ原, Decisive Battle of Sekigahara), #11 in Futabasha’s series of mooks that recreate Japanese history through the use of computer graphics. In many aspects it’s similar to the aforementioned Rekishi Gunzou volume-heavy on illustrations and light on text. However, the maps and battlefield tableaus are recreated using CG and miniatures, giving things a more realistic look. It focuses more on the actual battle than the Gakken book, but gives you a real feel for how it played out. You’ll be put right behind the barricades in Ishida’s camp and in the middle of the Shimazu’s escape through the ranks of the Eastern Army. The view from the Tokugawa headquarters that takes in the entire battlefield and all the troops scattered about is not only gorgeous, but helpful for understanding Japanese tactical warfare. The castles that took part in the sieges surrounding the campaign such as Osaka and Fushimi are elaborately rendered and ‘reconstructed’ in CG. Many Sekigahara painted screens are broken down and examined in detail. There are illustrations of individual troop types and the gear they would carry. It also contains artwork similar to that used for Osprey books-these feature key points from the battle, such as Ieyasu biting his nails waiting for Kobayakawa to defect, Mitsunari receiving news of the inaction of the Mouri and Kobayakawa, and the escape of the Shimazu troops after the battle had been lost by the Western Army. It also has great ‘regular’ maps in the back showing what area of Japan was controlled by which daimyo at the time of the battle, along with a chart showing their holdings, wealth, troops they could muster, and other information. This book also has a ‘tourism’ section; however, it shows many of the sites associated with the campaign rather than just the battlefield. While smaller than the Gakken book at 52 pages, it’s priced to sell at ¥933.

Sekigahara has been a favorite subject of gamers in both Japan and the West. With two upcoming games by GMT and Hexasim, the battle has produced 20 (at least) full blown highly detailed tabletop simulations/games. September saw the release of three-and two of them were to be found in the pages of Game Journal #32 (put out by Simulation Journal in Japan). Sekigahara Taisakusen: Sekigahara He No Michi (関ヶ原大作戦:関ヶ原への道, Sekigahara Grand Strategy: Road to Sekigahara) recreates the broader campaign, stretching from Osaka castle and the satellite castle battles in the west to the campaign pitting the Uesugi against the Date in the northeast. It’s a hex based simulation with 90 step-based counters (color coded into the Tokugawa, Eastern Army Allies, Ishida’s Army Of The West, and potential Western Army Defectors, each with clan mon) and 16 cards used to introduce random events into the game. Nyuusatsukyuu Sekigahara (入札級関ヶ原) covers the actual battle of Sekigahara itself, and its title is a clever play on words-it can mean ‘Bid For Rank Sekigahara’ but can also be read as ‘Bid For Decapitated Heads Sekigahara’ (referring to the severed heads of slain enemies presented by samurai to their lords). The game’s best feature is a well done two piece map of the Sekigahara battlefield that includes the areas off to the east that saw only a small amount of fighting (which are often left out by other games). This better simulates the precarious position Ieyasu put his forces into during the battle, and the potential disaster that awaited him if the Mouri stationed at this rear had been better motivated. No cards in this game, but a few more step-based counters (99) in a huge variety of colors with clan mon on each. This too is a traditional hex based game, eschewing the trend towards going to area or point-to-point movement systems. The order of battle is detailed and well done, with a good amount of differentiation. It’ll prove useful for armchair generals who want to compare the varying strengths of each contingent. The ever-shifting alliances in the power struggle are also a key feature of the game. There are really nine factions at work here-the Eastern Army frontline forces (largely composed of former Toyotomi retainers), Ieyasu’s contingent, the Eastern army ‘road’ troops at the army’s rear, the main Western army, the Kobayakawa, the Shimazu, the Kikkawa, the ‘Mouri Group’ east of the main battlefield, and the Western army turncoats that historically defected when Kobayakawa did. Gameplay tends to run along historical lines, so the Western Army faces more of a challenge.

Both games are of low-to-moderate complexity and consequently play smoothly, with Nyuusatsukyuu Sekigahara being an exciting nail-biter (just like Ieyasu was said to do during the battle!). The magazine also includes a number of historical articles on Sekigahara and the forces and personalities involved along with a multi-page Manga that offers up gameplay tips-you get a chance to read about the actual history and then replay it. The designers weigh in with their thoughts on the two games. There’s a look back at other Sekigahara wargames produced over the years and an article on the classic game ‘Sengoku Daimyo’. Reviews and features of other wargames and simulations round out the 84 page issue-at ¥3600, it’s a particularly good value for Sengoku simulation aficionados.

Japanese History War Game Quarterly #3: Sekigahara Seneki (関ヶ原戦役, Sekigahara Campaign) was also released in September, and features a simple recreation of the campaign in a point-to-point movement format. It’s an ideal game for those new to the Japanese language-the rules are written with the intention of being short and easy to understand. Games play out quickly and tend to have a high fun factor, not getting too bogged down in number-crunching and looking up rules. While the map is somewhat unattractive (being largely a series of holding boxes), the 80 game counters are excellent. They’re organized by clans and contain leader units-they can also be flipped over to switch sides. They’re color coded into different factions-Ieyasu’s main force (although many can and will defect), the Date, the Maeda, the Satake, and Mitsunari’s main force (also with many potential defectors). 30 cards are used to liven up the game. The production quality of the magazine is outstanding-it’s squarebound in stiff covers, has a plastic bubble and baggies for easy storage, and the magazine and rules are bound into the side of the book across from the bubble. Unique to this publication, there’s a full color Manga strip that runs in the margins of the rulebook explaining some of the game’s subtleties and strategies (and where the goofy female main character always ends up screwing over the serious male lead character). The entire 32 page magazine is given over to articles dealing with Sekigahara, and also includes a section spotlighting many Japanese movies and TV shows about the battle. It also uses illustrations of the game map and counters to show how the historical campaign unfolded. JHWGQ’s goal of producing low-complexity, quick and easy to play games has proven so popular that it’s already spawned a companion magazine that features warfare the world over. It weighs in at ¥2800. It looks like the upcoming JHWGQ #4 is going to be a simulation of the 47 Ronin’s assault on Lord Kira’s mansion on a single man scale (timed to be out around the anniversary of the conflict). I can only speculate that it’ll be a simulation of the fictional accounts of the raid, since historically it was a huge 47 to 4/5 mismatch.


We’ve only covered a fraction of the books and items released in Japan in celebration of Tenchijin and Sekigahara, but enough to show the influence and attraction the Taiga drama has on Japanese audiences. Next year’s Taiga focuses on the wildly popular Bakumatsu figure Sakamoto Ryoma, and the media frenzy for it is already getting warmed up as detailed on the Samurai Archives. Japanese History War Game Quarterly has already run a game on the Shinsengumi-maybe this year they’ll have one that features their foe Ryoma shooting his way out of the Teradaya. Hopefully it won’t have optional ‘Romulus Rulz’ for fist-pounding and snickering…