The Desperate Strategy of Scorched Earth
As World War II ravaged cities across the globe, few tragedies were as self-inflicted—and as devastating—as the 1938 Great Fire of Changsha. Unlike Hiroshima or Berlin, this Chinese metropolis was not destroyed by enemy bombs but by its own defenders under a “scorched earth” policy. Ordered by Chiang Kai-shek to prevent Japanese forces from capturing resources, the fire consumed 90% of the city, killed approximately 30,000 civilians, and left a permanent scar on China’s wartime memory.
This catastrophe unfolded against the backdrop of Japan’s relentless invasion. After the fall of Wuhan in October 1938, Japanese troops advanced toward Changsha, a critical railway hub. Fearing a repeat of Moscow’s 1812 burning (which had thwarted Napoleon), Chiang embraced the radical “scorched earth” doctrine. On November 7, he gathered officials—including Hunan Governor Zhang Zhizhong and Changsha Garrison Commander Feng Ti—and demanded: “Burn everything! Leave nothing for the enemy!”
The Fateful Night: Miscommunication and Chaos
The disaster began with a cascade of errors. On November 12, Chiang’s encrypted telegram arrived, ordering Governor Zhang to prepare for Changsha’s destruction. A detailed 13-point plan was drafted, specifying that fires would only start after four clear signals:
1. Provincial government orders
2. Garrison command authorization
3. Air-raid sirens sounding a specific pattern
4. A beacon lit at Tianxin Pavilion
Yet, none of these conditions were met. Around 2 AM on November 13, rogue soldiers from the 2nd Garrison Regiment—misinterpreting scattered fires (possibly accidental or sparked by panicked residents)—began dousing the city in gasoline. With police and firefighters already evacuated, the flames spread unchecked.
Eyewitnesses described hellish scenes: families boiled alive in water barrels, 30 goldsmiths charred in a vault, and wounded soldiers abandoned in streets. By dawn, Changsha’s 2,000-year-old cultural heritage—including 440 Han Dynasty seals—was reduced to ash.
The Reckoning: Blame and Bloodshed
Public outrage forced Chiang to act. Three men were scapegoated:
– Feng Ti (Garrison Commander): Executed for “negligence” despite claiming no orders were given.
– Xu Kun (Regiment Leader): Shot for “recklessness” after his troops ignited the city.
– Wen Chongfu (Police Chief): Condemned for fleeing his post.
Their trial lasted just hours. As they were marched to execution, bystanders reported their shouts of innocence. Meanwhile, Governor Zhang Zhizhong—though demoted—survived politically, his reputation forever tied to the disaster.
Legacy: Trauma and Resilience
The fire’s aftermath exposed systemic failures: poor communication, panic-driven decisions, and disregard for civilian life. Yet, it also revealed resilience. Survivors rebuilt amid ruins, and the tragedy became a rallying cry against Japan’s invasion.
Today, the Great Fire remains a cautionary tale about the costs of total war—and the enduring spirit of those who rise from ashes.