rope.
'What do you think the Oda are going to do with all those stakes?' the onlookers wondered.
The Tokugawa army that had set off for the front lines that morning had numbered fewer than eight thousand men. And that was the bulk of the army. The only thing they did not fall short in was morale.
To the Oda, this was foreign territory—an area they were coming to as relief troops. But to the warriors of the Tokugawa clan, this was the land of their ancestors. It was land the enemy was not to take a single step into, and from which there was absolutely no place to retreat. Even the foot soldiers were filled with the spirit of this belief from the time they started out, and they shared a certain tragic feeling. Comparing their equipment with that of the Oda army, they could see that they were sadly inferior; in fact, there was no comparison at all. But they did not feel inferior. When they had distanced themselves several leagues from the castle town, the Tokugawa forces quickened their pace. When they approached the village of Ushikubo, they changed their direction, hurrying away from the Oda troops and toward Shidaragahara like storm clouds.
Mount Gokurakuji stood directiy in front of the plain of Shidaragahara, and from its peak one could point to the Takeda positions at Tobigasu, Kiyoida, and Arumigahara.
Nobunaga set up his headquarters on Mount Gokurakuji, while Ieyasu chose Mount Danjo. The thirty-eight thousand Tokugawa and Oda forces deployed on these two mountains had already finished their preparations for the coming battle.
The sky filled with clouds, but there was no hint of lightning or wind.
On Mount Gokurakuji, the generals of both the Oda and Tokugawa clans gathered in a temple at the top of the mountain for a joint military conference. In the middle of the conference it was announced to Ieyasu that the scouts had just returned.
When Nobunaga heard this, he said, 'They've come at a good time. Bring them here, and we can all listen to their reports on the enemy's movements.'
The two scouts made their reports in a rather pompous way. The first began, 'Lord Katsuyori has made his headquarters to the west of Arumigahara. His retainers and cavalry are, indeed, quite hale. They seemed to number close to four thousand men, and appeared to be quite composed and self-possessed.'
The second went on, 'Obata Nobusada and his attack corps are overlooking the battlefield from a low hill a little to the south of Kiyoida. I could see that the main army of about three thousand men under Naito Shuri is encamped from Kiyoida to Asai. The left wing, which also numbers about three thousand, is under the standards of Yamagata Masakage and Oyamada Nobushige. Finally, the right wing is under Anayama Baisets and Baba Nobufusa. They look extremely impressive.'
'What about the troops laying siege to Nagashino Castle?' Ieyasu asked.
'About two thousand troops have remained around the castle and are keeping it tightly in check. There also seems to be a surveillance corps on a hill to the west of the castle, and it's possible that about a thousand soldiers are concealed in the fortresses around Tobigasu.'
The reports of the two men were, for the most part, rather incomplete. But the generals of the units they mentioned were famous beyond measure for their ferocity and valor, and Baba and Obata were both strategists of immense reputation. As the Oda and Tokugawa generals listened to the scouts' account of the enemies' positions, the vehemence of their will to fight, and their composure and self-confidence, the color drained from their faces.
They were silent, like men consumed by dread just before a battle. Suddenly Sakai Tadatsugu spoke, in a voice so loud it surprised the men around him.
'The outcome is already clear. There is no need for further discussion. How is an enemy of such scant numbers going to be a match for our own huge army?'
'That's enough conferring!' Nobunaga agreed, and slapped his knee. 'Tadatsugu has spoken admirably. To the eyes of a coward, the crane that flies across the paddies looks like an enemy banner and makes him quake with fear,' he laughed. 'I feel greatly relieved by the reports of these two men. Lord Ieyasu, we should celebrate!'
Having been praised, Sakai Tadatsugu got a bit carried away and said, 'My own opinion is that the enemy's greatest weakness is at Tobigasu. If we took a roundabout route and struck at their weak point from the rear with some lightly armed soldiers, the morale of their entire army would be thrown into confusion, and our men—'
'Tadatsugu!' Nobunaga said sharply. 'What good is such a ploy in this great battle? You're being presumptuous. I think everybody had better withdraw!' Using the reprimand as an excuse, Nobunaga adjourned the conference. Shamefaced, Tadatsugu left with the others.
When all had left, however, Nobunaga said to Ieyasu, 'Forgive me for rebuking that brave Tadatsugu so severely in front of all the others. I think his plan is excellent, but I was afraid that it might leak out to the enemy. Would you console him later?'
'No, it was clearly an indiscretion on Tadatsugu's part to reveal our plans, even though he was among allies. It was a good lesson for him. And I learned something, too.'
'I rebuked him so severely that I doubt that even our own men will expect us to use the plan. Call Tadatsugu, and give him permission to make a surprise attack on Tobigasu.'
'I'm sure it is his fondest wish to hear just that.'
Ieyasu summoned Tadatsugu and related Nobunaga's wishes.
Tadatsugu needed no further urging to go into action. Under extreme secrecy, he finished the preparations for his unit and then had a private audience with Nobunaga.
'I'll be leaving at sunset, my lord,' were Tadatsugu's only words.
Nobunaga, too, said little. Nevertheless, he assigned five hundred of his gunners to Tadatsugu. The entire force comprised more than three thousand men.
They left the encampment at nightfall, in the absolute darkness of the Fifth Month. About the time they got under way, stripes of white rain were cutting diagonally through the darkness. The downpour drenched them to the skin as they marched along in silence.
Before climbing Mount Matsu, the entire company hid in a temple compound at the foot of the mountain. The soldiers took off their armor, left their horses behind, and shouldered whatever equipment they would take with them.
The slope was painfully steep and muddy from the torrential rain. Every time the men took a step forward, they would slip back. Hanging on to the shafts of the spears and grasping the hands of their comrades above them, they scaled the three hundred fifty yards to the summit.
A pale whiteness was beginning to appear in the night sky, announcing the coming dawn. The clouds began to part, and the splendor of the morning sun pierced the thick sea of mist.
'It's clearing!'
'Luck from heaven!'
'Conditions are perfect!'
At the top of the mountain the men put on their armor and divided into two groups. The first would make a dawn raid on the enemy fortress on the mountain, and the other would attack Tobigasu.
The Takeda had underestimated the danger, and now their waking shouts broke out in confusion. The fires set by Tadatsugu's forces sent black smoke rising from the mountain stronghold. The Takeda fled in a disorderly rout toward Tobigasu. But by then Tadatsugu's second division had already breached the castle walls.
The night before, after Tadatsugu's departure, Nobunaga's entire army had been given the order to advance. But this was not to be the outbreak of the battle.
The army defied the driving rain and moved on toward the neighborhood of Mount Chausu. From that time until dawn, the soldiers pounded the stakes they had carried into the ground, and bound them together with rope to create a palisade that looked like a meandering centipede.
As dawn was nearing, Nobunaga inspected the defenses on horseback. The rain had stopped, and the construction of the palisade had been completed.
Nobunaga turned to the Tokugawa generals and yelled at them with a laugh, 'Wait and see! Today we're going to let the Kai army come close, and then we'll handle them like molting skylarks.'
I wonder, each of them thought. They imagined that he was just trying to reassure them. But what they could clearly see was that the soldiers from Gifu—the troops who had shouldered the stakes and ropes all the way
