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Pagoda, Skull & Samurai Page 15
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Meanwhile, Nobunaga concluded a personal conference with Ieyasu, and during the next three days moved his army closer and closer to Nagashino. By May 18, after careful reconnaissance of the area, he had established his command post on Paradise Temple Hill in the town of Hidara, to the forward left of Nagashino. With his eldest son, Nobutada, occupying Heavenly God Hill, his second son, Nobukatsu, on Sacred Hall Hill, and Hideyoshi and others on Tea Mortar Hill, his crack troops formed thirteen layers of fortification. The Oda lines were secured tight enough to discourage any assault, even if the Takeda warriors were capable of feats rivaling those of demon-gods.
Ieyasu was even more resolute. He was the principal in this conflict, and this was his chance to avenge the recent affront and to put an end to a feud besides. A long-standing enmity flaring with new heat in their breasts, the Tokugawa warriors rose to the occasion despite their small numbers. Ieyasu allocated his forces into nine sectors, setting his camp on Tall Pine Hill further forward than Nobunaga's. The nearby Pine Ridge was fortified by his eldest son, Matsu-daira Nobuyasu. The Tokugawa troops were roused to a seething impatience for battle by Ieyasu's unsparing command: "Don't bother collecting enemy heads to prove that you've killed. Just kill, kill, and kill to the bitter end."
Nobunaga for his part promptly put his plan into action. Under his orders all units began building barricades with the post and rope that each soldier had brought with him. Two to three terraces of fence along the gradually descending hillside in front of the entire encampment were to be manned from corner to corner, except where an open space had been provided every thirty feet to lure enemies in. The sizable army soon completed a line of defense as long as the Great Wall of China. Behind this impregnable barrier the Oda force stood arrayed, ready to welcome enemy assaults with devastating showers of missiles.
[5]
"I had half anticipated that Ieyasu would come out, and I even looked forward to dealing him a death blow. But in addition to Ieyasu, even Nobunaga has hauled his grand army all the way out here—the last thing I would have expected from that weak-kneed fellow. Well, so much the better. I won't have any trouble stampeding a flock of glib-tongued, soft-boned, urbanized men from the Owari Plain. Ever since my father died, Nobunaga has seized every opportunity to spurn me. He may be itching to try one of his clever little tactics that worked on those spineless neighbors of his, but what can he possibly do to me? I shall strip him of his armor once and for all and laugh in his face, or behead him with my own hand. Uesugi Ken-shin, who is second only to my late father in military reputation, once struck camp in deference to me without giving battle when I was still a mere youth. How foolhardy and audacious of Nobunaga to show his face around me, when he isn't fit to dust the great Kenshin's sandals! I'll teach him the consequences of his flagrant disrespect."
The day after Nobunaga arrived at Paradise Temple Hill, Katsuyori assembled his commanders and made an announcement:
"As you already know, the enemy has advanced to Hidara Field. Clearly they intend to come to the rescue of Nagashino Castle. Our luck has it that both Nobunaga and Ieyasu have kindly aligned their heads for us to take at one time. The castle is harmless enough; it can be kept in check by a small contingent guarding the supplies at the outpost on Hawk's Nest Hill. Two thousand troops will be left to secure Nagashino Field. I shall cross the Cascade River by a bridge which we will build at Cormorant's Narrow and set up my command post two miles forward in Pure Well Field. The rest of you can ford the Iwashiro River and fan out to form giant wings. With our backs to the vast river, we shall slice our way through enemy lines." Katsuyori explained his plan of action with bravura, his voice crisp and vibrant.
Flanking the commander-in-chief sat Nagasaka Chōkan and Atobe Katsusuke, their shoulders squared and their brows arched smugly in silent but unconcealed admiration for the young master, as if the battle had already been won. None of Katsuyori's commanders, however, uttered a sound as their leader declared his intention to court disaster by this foolhardy offensive. Inwardly appalled by the reckless plan, they maintained a deathly silence under knitted brows. Quick-tempered Naitō, the most volatile of the famed Kōshū Four generals, though, was too forthright to hold his tongue, no matter what the consequences. He, if anyone, would refuse to consent to such a preposterous maneuver. Intransigent determination flushing his face, Naitō inched forward on his knees and swept scathing eyes over his colleagues.
"Does your silence mean that you're ignoble enough to do our lord's bidding blindly without assessing the tactical feasibility or possible outcome of his scheme? Have you forgotten our clan's tradition to deliberate thoroughly on all military decisions, which rules out thoughtless compliance? This is no trivial matter. I find your silence before such a momentous battle disgraceful. In fact, is it not most disloyal and dishonorable of you to suppress your disagreement, concurring with the lord in false obedience? I shall state my candid opinion in the hope that all of you will follow my lead."
After glowering at his speechless comrades, Naitō inclined his head slightly to address Katsuyori:
"My lord, please listen to me for a moment. You have just outlined an extremely drastic plan of combat operation, but, with all due respect, you seem to have made a quite uncharacteristic error in judgment. The decision to advance or retreat depends entirely upon the tide of battle, and it is no honor for a samurai to be driven by reckless courage, Take your late father, whose valor was probably unparalleled in our country. We have all witnessed Lord Shingen's timely decision to evade battle if the conditions proved (Unfavorable. Such discretion did much to establish his unique record, unblemished by a single rout, a failure to achieve his objective in battle, or an unsuccessful attack on a citadel. The true meaning of valor was exemplified by such accomplishments of his. In contrast, while your present strategy of swift assault may sound valiant, is it in accord with the genuine spirit of heroism? I doubt it. Surely you remember how your father used to express his admiration for Ieyasu, enemy though he was, as a formidable leader with judiciousness and stature far beyond his age. Your underestimating Ieyasu is in disregard of your father's illustrious military reputation.
"If Ieyasu were the only one involved, our best effort would be more than sufficient to pulverize him, a minor contender no matter how competent and versatile. But this time we are up against Nobunaga as well. We are outnumbered three or even four to one by his legions, which are not exactly lacking in stalwart fighters. Moreover, Nobunaga is a man of uncommon cunning known to spring devilish tricks on unwary adversaries. It is foolhardy to engage him solely by force of arms. He has erected double and triple fences reinforced by abatis along his entire front, not in an attitude of offense, but in one of firm defense. While it does betray his fear of our capabilities, you cannot deny the overwhelming inconvenience that it imposes upon us. To add to their numerical superiority, they enjoy all the advantages of a fortified encampment. Since an offensive force twice the size of the defense would barely strike a balance of power under these circumstances, it takes no genius to predict the outcome of our charge with a quarter of their strength. I beg you, my lord, please revise your plan so as to outmaneuver Nobunaga and Ieyasu. This is when we should be playing the stealthy game of hide-and-seek, a prize military secret of our clan.
"I apologize for volunteering my opinion before my seniors, Generals Baba and Yamagata, but I trust that the urgent nature of the matter at hand overrides protocol. Since our side will not benefit from a battle at this point, I recommend an immediate decampment and return to Kō-shū. Craven enough to hide behind fortification, the enemy has not the wit to sally forth after us; though of course, to be ready for the unlikely event of their pursuit, we can leave some rear guard units lying in wait or take any number of other measures to rub salt into the enemy nose. As our adversaries strike camp in disappointment, we will reverse our course and attack their rear. Should they make an about-face to fight, we will withdraw again. After several such elusive maneuvers, the other side, encumbe
red by its large size on unaccustomed terrain, will no doubt show fatigue sooner than our men, who can function more effectively in small numbers and on familiar ground. Indeed, our advantages easily double and triple their disadvantages. In the event that this kind of operation leads the enemy to make a rash mass advance, it will be a chance for us to lure them into an unfamiliar locality, thereby setting them up for the kill. We could even take the heads of both Nobunaga and Ieyasu together. Would you not agree that this scheme will tip the scale in our favor, transforming our handicaps into the very means of victory? I hope your lordship will adopt a prudent policy and avoid all unnecessary risks. Don't let your bravery prove your undoing. I beg you, sire, to reconsider and abandon your plan of attack at this time. I respectfully remonstrate."
Naitō made his plea eloquently, presenting his mature insight with artless candor and heroic fortitude, his head unbowed and his principles uncompromised before a man in power. Few could help but exclaim inwardly, "Well said, General!"
[6]
Baba, prostrate on the floor in deference to Katsuyori, quickly endorsed Naitō's plea with his own: "I am in complete agreement with General Naitō. I beseech you, sire, to accept his recommendation." Without a word, Yamagata also bowed deeply to express the same entreaty.
His mounting displeasure already visible, Katsuyori nonetheless found it difficult to override the joint dissent of his three senior generals. In exasperation he glanced at Chōkan, who instantly grasped the message. The shrewd old man swaggeringly leaned his shoulders forward, cast a disdainful look around the assembly, and spoke:
"I cannot quite understand General Naitō's unsolicited counsel. First, I would have expected him to be aware of the battlefield taboo against making demoralizing remarks about the enemy's forte. Yet, to my regret, he was unsparing in his praise of our foes. The Oda soldiers may be great in number, but they are already intimidated by the reputation of our invincible army. Why should we fear a herd of cowering men? The only strong contender is the small Tokugawa force, which will pose no serious threat to us in any event, no matter how desperate and fierce their struggle. It is utterly unbecoming of General Naitō, who has proven his valor beyond dispute time and again, to suddenly counsel extreme caution, thoroughly alarmed by the enemy's numerical superiority. Not only do I object to his apprehension, but I even deplore the blemish he is bringing upon his own good name. A battle is never decided by the numbers. If we withdraw all the way home without crossing swords with the enemy, we will all be safe and sound, I grant you. But what would such an action do to our reputation? We have always sneered at enemies who were intimidated into a retreat by the mere sight of our mighty force. The Oda and Tokugawa troops certainly won't overlook this golden opportunity to repay us in kind, jeering, hooting, rattling their quivers, and clapping their hands in ridicule. While it may sound ideal to evade a battle and keep our army intact, the obvious consequences are just the opposite. Such a move will merely downgrade our prestige, tarnish the glorious name universally recognized since the days of Lord Shingen, and drastically reduce the number of warriors eager to serve under our banners.
"Now, a more crucial implication: The insurgent Okudaira not only will go unpunished, but will emerge a winner in effect. That may lead to an even greater crisis, if the other vassals in the Mikawa and Enshū border areas are encouraged to shed their fear of our retaliation and follow the Okudaira's example, switching their allegiance on the heels of our withdrawal. Is it not the poorest of strategies to defeat oneself without fighting and to self-inflict damage without losing a single soldier in the battlefield? Of course, I need not remind you that such dishonorable behavior as showing one's back to the enemy goes against the grain of our dauntless lord. Even if General Naitō's proposal were feasible, the disgrace of it would be more than our lord could bear. There is no need for further discussion, is there? I can't think of any alternative but for all of you to go forth to battle at our lord's command, fully prepared to lay down your lives in Nagashino Field. What say you, Atobe-dono? I can see no other choice. All of you must agree with me. Even if by chance you are of a different mind, the samurai code dictates that the vassal's duty is to obey his lord regardless." Chōkan's false loyalty gushed forth in unabashed arrogance, rhetorical flourish twisting logic and reason.
[7]
Following Chōkan's lead, the equally toadyish Atobe slid forward to kowtow before Katsuyori. "I believe the esteemed elder Chōkan is absolutely right."
Somewhat heartened by their obsequious support, Katsu-yori's face brightened in approval. He surveyed the assembly, secretly hoping no one else would object.
Quickly taking the full measure of the situation, General Baba offered his opinion in a reverential tone:
"Old Chōkan and Atobe-dono seem to make a great deal of sense in what they say. Yet I would hesitate to call it perfect. Since General Naitō's assessment of our strategic position is totally accurate, we must defer impetuous actions if we hold loyalty to our lord and our clan supreme. Were we to foolishly charge the enemy with the blind courage of a mad tiger, we would certainly lose the battle and, I am sorry to say, gain absolutely nothing for our effort. Withdrawal may be a temporary disgrace, but who can say that it takes no courage to endure disgrace? Would you find more honor in inviting a chaotic rout and a decisive defeat? The ultimate victory belongs to the man of foresight who safeguards his own interests. My lord, please heed our advice for now and lead our army homeward.
"If we were to return from a long campaign without attempting to display our valor or take spoils, it would only serve to make our enemy gleeful and our own men disgruntled. I would not blame you for rejecting such a prospect. But I have an idea which would enable us to prove our valor and collect some trophies from this campaign as well. Before we make our orderly departure, suppose we storm Nagashino Castle in a swift assault and take Sadamasa's head to exemplify the exacting retribution for treason against the House of Takeda? The prestige of our name would be more than adequately upheld by sacking of a castle, modest as it is, and by the due punishment of the traitor. It would be rather gratifying to foil Nobunaga's relief mission and render useless Ieyasu's reliance on a massive reinforcement. I think we can readily take the castle, no matter how well guarded it is. During our skirmishes, I was able to estimate the number of their firearms at no more than five hundred. If we stage a coordinated charge from all four sides, the garrison would no doubt make full use of their firepower. Even if each of their shots found a live target, our maximum loss would be a mere five hundred. As our troops continue their onward rush over the fallen comrades, the enemy would counterattack, perhaps claiming another five hundred. Nothing, however, could stop our valiant warriors from gaining the parapets. In the face of such a devastating onslaught, what choice has the garrison but to surrender or perish, even if the defenders were demon-gods incarnate? At the cost of one thousand casualties, we would retain our dignity and outwit both Nobunaga and Ieyasu. To be honest, this is not exactly my favorite plan of operation, but it would make our withdrawal more palatable than a defeat as the result of some ill-considered offensive."
Baba had expostulated well. Noted veteran general that he was, his judicious advice lacked neither in appeal to his young lord's combative ardor nor in tactical consideration of the need to sustain morale and self-esteem by keeping the inevitable losses to a minimum. It was all to no avail, however, for the intractably willful Katsuyori was not in the habit of yielding to anyone or countermanding his own orders.
Reading inacquiescence on Katsuyori's face, Chōkan interloped again, his self-importance bolstered by certain inside knowledge:
"General Baba's advice may sound reasonable, but it is actually quite hard to swallow. Why sacrifice a thousand of our own men only to withdraw, leaving the main enemy force untouched? Why not battle our real adversaries, Nobunaga and Ieyasu? It is obvious which is the more heroic alternative. General Naitō and others are busy bewailing our lack of advantage, but we have already set a
secret strategy in motion. I am not at liberty to divulge its details, but I assure you that you will not fail to appreciate it when the time comes. Our lord's desire to wage a decisive war is not motivated by reckless belligerence." Chōkan, arguing testily, was dull-witted enough to believe that Nobunaga's trusted commander Sakuma had promised to betray his master out of a personal grudge. He never considered the possibility that Sakuma might be setting a ruse for the Takeda.
Nodding his assurance Katsuyori added confidently, "Listen well, Baba and Naitō. As Chōkan explained, I am not so witless as to enjoy losing my own men by mounting a harebrained charge against formidable enemies. I order an attack secure in the knowledge that the secret plan now under way will immensely enhance our chances of victory. If we move with one accord, even ten thousand enemy forces can be mowed down like so many blades of grass. There's no need to be afraid of their numbers. As the ancient Chinese saying goes, 'No tiger's lair ventured, no tiger cub gained.' Now, we can do without this senseless bickering."
[8]
Since the days of Shingen, the Kōshū Four—Baba, Yamagata, Kōsaka, and Naitō—had unfailingly demonstrated their battlefield prowess and had accumulated numerous testimonials to prove it. The most trusted among the Takeda vassals, they had always been privy to top secret decision-making at the tactical conference which was held each winter in order to formulate the following year's military objectives. Shingen had even accorded them the privilege of expressing their critical opinions on every maneuver involved in the confidential plans. Suddenly reversing this tradition, their young lord and Chōkan appeared to be harboring an exclusive secret.