As, in May of 1863, our confidence in the war against Russia had been cast aside, and we were thrown into doubt, we vacillated as to what was to be done.
Had we wrongly doubted? Were we contemplating defeat just as we were on the verge of victory? It was important not to make a mistake in this. Japan’s future hung in the balance.
We were fortified when teams of Western-trained artisans began producing a steady supply of muzzle-loading rifle firearms, such as the Russians and other Europeans used. This could make a tremendous difference for us – before, we had held our own against Western armies without such technologies. The Russians still had better weapons than us, but could this even the score?
Our hopes were set back as we received word that our defending army at Okinawa had been defeated by the Swedes. How embarrassing! To be humbled by a small, distant country that had none of the might and reputation of Russia. The Swedes would have control of the island before long…
When Russian General Alexseyev arrived at Ayan, a bloody battle began. But we found that our losses were not tremendous. Not at first report. We were killing as many of the enemy as they were of ours. Could we bleed them here, retreat, and then bleed them more in Okhotsk? Use an attrition strategy to wear them down?
We wondered, especially, as the Russians sent us an envoy who offered to let us go, and not to interfere with Japan, if we would only stop this “silly” war. It was a sign of weakness from Russia. This should give us hope, no?
But no matter how well we did against the Russians, we were sure to lose this battle at Ayan. General Nogi could promise to take much blood for his troubles, but he did not promise to defeat the enemy – they were too many.
At Tilichiki, Gen. Kamimura had recovered from his earlier stumble, and was now fighting the Russians with more competence. Many on both sides were falling. But our two sides were too evenly matched, in numbers, and the Russians had the edge, technologically. Could we hold? Time would tell.
And the Russians had managed to take Petropavlovsk, on the far end of the Kamchatka Peninsula, back from our troops. That had been hard-won, and now would prove yet another omen against our prevailing in this war. We might hold them in the mountains, once they moved back north.
June 21, Gen. Nogi was shamed to have to retreat before a victorious, and hardly weakened enemy. He had lost 4,600 soldiers, against only 2,000 Russian casualties. That meant 28,000 Russians would soon descend upon our mountain holdouts near Okhotsk. Could Nogi’s exhausted troops aid the 11,000 Japanese who were there to turn the Russians away?
Japan had won battles with worse odds before. It was possible. We decided to wait and see. But the loss at Ayan took a toll on our confidence. Observers from other countries, both Western and Eastern, began to predict doom for Japan. Could that be? Could the gods be so displeased with us that they would allow such?
At the end of June, Gen. Kamimura’s struggle was weighed out, and the result was not nearly so favorable as any of us had hoped.
Again, he had inflicted losses of about 2,000 upon the enemy. But he had lost nearly 6,000 of his own. This, too, was a significant defeat. And it meant that our odds of maintaining control of any of the Kamchatka Peninsula in the long run were very small.
Okinawa was also lost to us. The only consolation was that our large sailing warships had sunk all of the Swedish transports, so that they would not be able to cause further mischief after their small victory on that island.
In July, the Russians sent another envoy, offering peace on the same terms as before.
Was this a sign that we were to humble ourselves? Was their overture not a sign of weakness, but rather a recognition that this war was now benefiting neither of us?
Gen. Yui was locked in combat in the mountains of Ossora, and while his position was solid, and his technique was sure, he could still not hope to defeat 17,000 of the enemy.
In the end, it was the Emperor who counseled caution and reason over misplaced hopes. He commanded us to accept the Russian offer, and end the war.
He said that, one day, we might revisit this war, and we would have our victory then. But, for now, we were too weak. Too behind-the-times. Peace would give us an opportunity to catch up some more – to learn more of the ways of the Westerners, and raise larger armies, so that an army of 30,000 enemy need not trepidate us.
In the end, we achieved the most important of our war goals, even if Sakhalin Island remained in enemy hands. We were free – the Russians no longer felt free to dictate to us, or demand exclusive trading rights, or to bully us into favorable terms for their merchants. No, Russia was now on the same footing as all the other barbarians – they would have to be respectful in order to do business with us, or we would tell them to go away.
Our status had fundamentally changed, since before the war. Previously, we were seen as backward, as primitive… as unworthy of notice. Now, all the European powers realized that, though we had lost the war on the battlefield, we had in fact humbled the Russians and made them give up something they valued. We had humbled THEM!
Now, Japan stood as a consideration in the minds of Europeans – we had earned their respect. And, we were quick to note, we now stood at the pinnacle of Eastern wisdom. China, and so many other Asian powers had been humiliated and forced to give up land to their European predators.
Japan had turned the barbarian king back! We could stand proud, and hold our heads high!