How Vietnam used 2 epic battles to finally CRUSH the Mongols-Yuan?

Upon receiving the information, on the twelfth day of the lunar month, January 17th, 1258, Uriankhadai advanced to meet two vanguard forces at the Bak-Hak intersection, present-day Putho, where the Mongol army assembled to move towards the Tran positions. The Tran forces had already set up their defenses on the opposite bank of the river, readying themselves for an attack. Planning a swift and decisive victory over the Tran forces, Uriankhadai divided his army into three units for a coordinated river crossing and assault. The first unit, led by General Khachakdu, took on the vanguard role with an agile cavalry force tasked with crossing downstream along the Fan River. Their goal was to circle behind the Jai Viet line and seize the boats to cut off any retreat. Uriankhadai instructed his commander, When you cross, don't attack immediately. They will resist. Capture their rear guard. Khachakdu, seize the boats. If they break and flee toward the river, without boats they'll be ours. This tactic aimed to trap and crush the Tran forces by pushing them toward the riverbank, leaving them surrounded. This unit was composed of about 5,000 troops. The second unit, commanded by Uriankhadai himself, comprised around 30,000 soldiers. This force was to cross the river and launch a frontal assault on the Jai Viet line, with the Dali defectors placed at the front to bear the brunt of the casualties, while Mongol cavalry followed behind, ready to deliver a decisive strike. The third unit, also included over 5,000 troops, led by Mongol commander Khoidu, was ordered to attack the rear of the Jai Viet forces, aiming to serve communication between the front and rear lines of the Tran army, preventing any mutual support. The Mongol plan appeared carefully designed to annihilate Jai Viet's main forces, and either kill or capture King Tran in a single confrontation. However, despite the strategic planning, the actual events did not unfold as Uriankhadai had anticipated. However, as soon as Khachakdu crossed the river, he immediately launched an attack. The general crossed the river downstream, assuming he could avoid detection by the main Jai Viet forces, and reach the boat dock. But his troops were quickly spotted, and encountered a rear guard unit of Jai Viet forces. Khachakdu and his entire Mongol vanguard were forced to turn back and engage in battle. From across the river, Uriankhadai saw the Jai Viet forces shifting position, and noticed clouds of dust rising, signaling an engagement. He immediately ordered his central force to cross the river to support the Mongol troops, who had just made it to the south bank of the Phan river. King Tran Thai Tong ordered his war elephants to charge forward, followed closely by lines of cavalry and infantry. The Mongols pressed on without retreating, and their rear guard managed to cross the river, forming a line and charging toward the front ranks of the Jai Viet forces. Many of the Dali troops among the Mongols suffered heavy losses against Jai Viet's powerful war elephants. Though the Mongol cavalry attempted a counterattack, they could not withstand the assault. Jai Viet soldiers mounted on elephants fired arrows and used hooked spears to strike down the Mongol cavalry. Vice versa, the Mongol cavalry maneuvered around the elephants to fire arrows at them and tried to break up clusters of infantry and cavalry. The Mongol central army engaged Jai Viet's vanguard, but it wasn't long before their rear forces arrived, which included skilled archers. Only 18 years old Aju commanded the cavalry to target the war elephants, specifically aiming at their eyes. Many elephants were struck in vulnerable areas, such as the eyes and trunks. Overcome by pain and fear, they panicked, turned, and rampaged through Jai Viet's lines, trampling soldiers and horses alike. This chaos opened gaps in Jai Viet's formation, which the Mongols quickly exploited, breaking through along the paths cleared by the retreating elephants. The Mongol cavalry gradually gained the upper hand. The terrain at Binlin Guiyen was flat and firm, perfectly suited to the Mongols' steppe cavalry tactics. They employed a strategy of dividing and eliminating isolated groups of Jai Viet soldiers, inflicting heavy losses and making it nearly impossible for Jai Viet's forces to regroup or mount an effective counter-attack. Faced with this situation, following the counsel of his general Le Tan, the Jai Viet's king ordered a full retreat toward the riverboats. Uriankhadai immediately ordered his forces to pursue relentlessly, aiming to capture or kill the king. The Mongols closed in rapidly and almost succeeded. The king and the general Le Tan retreated to the Kuban mountain pass, where an unexpected rescue force led by Fom Ku Chich arrived just in time. Fom Ku Chich and his troops fiercely counterattacked, stalling the Mongol advance long enough for the king and the remaining core forces to board their boats. As the Mongols pursued to the riverbank, they unleashed a barrage of arrows at the fleeing king's dragonboats. Many Jai Viet soldiers were struck down, and Fom Ku Chich himself was killed in the fighting. Acting quickly, Le Tan ordered his troops to use wooden planks from the boats to shield the king. Thanks to this effort, King Tran Thai Tong safely escaped the battlefield. The Jai Viet fleet rode swiftly eastward, gradually leaving the Mongol cavalry far behind. After the battle, Uriankhadai found no joy in his victory. Instead, he was filled with fury for failing to capture the king and allowing most of the Jai Viet army to retreat safely. Blaming General Khachak Du for not successfully seizing the boats, Uriankhadai threatened to punish the entire vanguard. Overcome with shame, Khachak Du took his own life by drinking poison. As they withdrew from Binlin Guyen, King Tran and his troops sailed down the Chalo River. However, Mongol forces continued their relentless pursuit along the riverbanks. On January 18, 1258, Jai Viet troops reached Pulau, abandoned their boats, and took a stand on land to fend off the Mongols. The king ordered the destruction of the Pulau Bridge and established a defensive line on the southern bank to cover the retreat. Meanwhile, the rest of the troops marched overland toward Thang Long. Ton Thu Pu, the king's nephew, was tasked with commanding the rearguard. Soon after the rearguard completed their landing, the Mongols arrived. At this point, the Pulau River was considerably wider than the section at Binlin Guyen, making it temporarily impassable for the Mongol forces. This delay provided Emperor Tran Thai Thong with enough time to lead his army to safety and for the rearguard to establish a defensive position. King Thai Thong held secret discussions with Le Tan, though the details of these conversations remain largely unknown. At one point, the king met his younger brother, Grand Marshal Tran Nhat Hu, to seek his advice on the nation's defense strategy. Tran Nhat Hu, too weak to stand, leaned against the side of his boat, dipped his finger in the water, and wrote the words, Seek Refuge in Song, meaning the Southern Song Dynasty, on the side of the vessel. The words written in water vanish, mirroring the transient and fragile nature of Jai Viet's sovereignty, if it were to submit to the Mongols or seek protection from the Southern Song. Seeking refuge in the Southern Song was perhaps a realistic short-term solution, even if it meant sacrificing independence. The king then visited the chancellor, Tran Thu Chau, for counsel. In response to King Thai Thong's concerns, Tran Thu Chau declared resolutely, As long as my head has not fallen to the ground, your majesty need not worry about anything else. The Mongol forces moved along the riverbank, firing arrows high into the air so that the arrows would fall freely into the water. In places where arrows sank without floating back up, they knew the water was shallow enough for cavalry to cross. After a while of shooting arrows along the bank, the Mongols finally identified a shallow area. The Mongol cavalry immediately crossed the river in a single file. This unique crossing tactic caught Jai Viet forces by surprise. Despite fighting valiantly, the small rearguard led by Lord Pu Luong was quickly overwhelmed by the Mongol cavalry's superior skill and strength. Pu Luong and his troops sacrificed their lives in the effort to delay the enemy, buying precious time for the main army and the royal court to retreat safely to Thung Long. Upon reaching the capital, Thung Long, the court immediately implemented a scorched earth strategy to counter the initial strength of the enemy. The more literal translation, Empty Garden, Vacant House, emphasizes the complete abandonment and removal of anything useful to the enemy. On January 18th, 1258, both day and night, all the residents of Thung Long were ordered to evacuate the capital, taking with them all food and supplies. The military, the royal family, and the Jai Viet court then withdrew by boat to Thien Mac, in what is now Hanam. Uriankhadai and his forces captured Jai Viet's capital with ease. However, before they could celebrate their victory, the Mongols discovered that the city was deserted, with only a few residents who hadn't managed to flee. The Mongol soldiers scoured the city but found only three captive envoys bound with bamboo ropes. When the ropes were cut, they discovered that one of the envoys had already died of starvation. Most of the court's grain stores and supplies from civilian households had either been removed or hidden away. The Mongol forces were unable to find the stockpiles of provisions they had expected. Enraged, Uriankhadai ordered his troops to rampage through the city, ransacking and killing any remaining inhabitants. Meanwhile, the surrounding villages near the capital organized efforts to bury their supplies and build trenches and fortifications to defend themselves. The court had issued strict orders to the population. If the enemy arrived, they were to fight to the end. If resistance was impossible, they were to flee into the forests and mountains, but under no circumstances were they to surrender. These orders were followed rigorously by the people of the villages. Inside Thung Long, with no sources of resupply, the Mongols faced an imminent food shortage that made them quickly fall into a state of hunger and desperation each passing day. Forced by the situation, Uriankhadai divided his forces into small groups to raid the surrounding villages for supplies. However, this solution proved unsustainable. Fearing a surprise encirclement in the capital, he led his troops out of Thung Long and established a camp at Zhongbo Zhao. By this point, the Jai Viet military and court had completely vanished from sight, leaving the Mongol commander with no opportunity for a decisive battle. The rivers and tributaries surrounding Thung Long acted as natural defensive barriers, hindering the Mongol army's mobility. Despite still having nearly 40,000 men, the Mongols found themselves stuck, waiting with no clear strategy. With excellent logistical coordination, the Jai Viet court had amassed sufficient supplies to sustain a large army for an extended period. By this time, local troops and private forces from the regional lords had gathered at Tien Bao, amassing over 100,000 soldiers. Jai Viet's warships crowded the waters of the Thien Mac river, ready for battle. On the night of January 28th and into the early hours of January 29th, 1258, the Jai Viet forces extinguished all lights and silently rode their boats toward Zhongbo Zhao. Once in position, the Jai Viet forces suddenly beat their war drums, illuminating a section of the river with blazing torches. Arrows rained down from their warships onto the Mongol sentry posts. Following this, a fleet of large and small ships swiftly landed troops ashore, launching a deep assault into the enemy camps. The advantage of their ships allowed the Jai Viet forces to disembark with ease. The Mongols, caught off guard in the dead of night, initially suffered losses on the outer perimeters and fell into disarray. However, they quickly rallied, donned armor, and armed themselves for defense. The Mongol commander worked tirelessly to restore order. Soldiers scrambled from their tents, mounted their horses, and engaged the Jai Viet forces in fierce combat. By this point, the Jai Viet troops had advanced deeply onto land, losing some of the critical support provided by their warships. Crown Prince Tran Hoang and King Tran Thai Tong directed the battle from their command vessels. Generals like Tran Quoc Tuan, Tran Khan Du, and Le Tan led multiple assault divisions. Notably, General Tran Khan Du exploited a gap in the Mongol defenses, driving his troops deep into their lines, which caused further chaos and heavy casualties for the Mongols. The Jai Viet forces gradually surrounded the Mongols. Recognizing that the tide of battle had turned decisively, the experienced Uriankhadai ordered an immediate retreat northward to preserve his remaining forces. In total, the Mongols occupied Thung Long for only nine days, and leaving them scrambling in the darkness. There were no reserves left, no backup plan, and the food the Mongols had relied on was gone. Togan was furious. Frustration gnawed at him as his plans unraveled. He paced, nearly losing his composure in front of his men, who were just as helpless. There was no way to replenish his forces, no way to escape the tightening grip of the Jai Viet. His army was crumbling under the constant pressure. The only choice left for him was to retreat. It was a humiliating decision, but one that saved his life and whatever remained of his army. Great Lord Hung Tao, however, wasn't about to let the Mongols slip away unscathed. His strategy was clear and deadly. Wait until the Mongols were retreating, and then strike. It was a calculated move. When the enemy was retreating, they were already vulnerable. Mentally drained, physically exhausted, and strategically compromised. The Jai Viet would hit them at their most fragile moment, on their way out. This would be the final blow. The Jai Viet were no strangers to naval warfare. With over a thousand ships at their command, they controlled the waterways, giving them a distinct advantage. The king of the Tran dynasty and the court had joined forces in the north, rallying the troops and boosting the morale of Jai Viet forces. The entire war effort had now been fully coordinated, with every soldier, from peasants to generals, prepared for the final push. Togon's decision to divide his forces seemed like the most sensible option under the circumstances. His infantry would retrace along the familiar path they had taken to invade, while Omar led the naval forces down the Bac Giang river. To bolster the fleet's chances, Togon assigned a cavalry contingent to escort them along the riverbanks. On paper, this seemed like a viable plan. In practice, however, it was a logistical nightmare. The cavalry escort struggled to keep pace with the naval fleet, as rugged terrain and destroyed infrastructure made land travel nearly impossible. At Giang Trieu, modern Quang Ninh, the Mongol cavalry encountered a significant obstacle. A destroyed bridge that prevented them from continuing their journey alongside the fleet. Realizing the Jai Viet likely lay in wait on the other side, the Mongols sought an alternate route. They coerced local elders into guiding them back toward Van Keep in the hopes of regrouping with Togon's infantry. This decision left Omar's naval forces completely exposed. Without their cavalry escort, the fleet moved at a snail's pace, leaving it vulnerable to the relentless attacks the Jai Viet were sure to unleash. At this time, Great Lord Hung Dao is gathering his forces at the mouth of the Bac Giang river, preparing for a showdown with the Mongol fleet. It's a strategic location, the enemy's naval army can't avoid crossing it on their way home from Van Keep. Hung Dao's plan is bold. His goal is to wipe out the two Mongol forces, both the naval and land troops, leaving no room for them to escape. But here's the challenge, his army doesn't have the manpower to fight these two forces simultaneously. If he focuses on the land forces, the Mongol fleet might slip away. And fighting the land forces, that's where the Mongols are strongest. Their land troops are a massive force, hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and touched by the wear and tear of war on Viet soil. So, Hung Dao makes a crucial decision. Instead of throwing all his strength into the land forces, he focuses on one thing, the Mongol fleet. For the Viet, warfare on water is second nature. They know every riverbend, every stream, and every island along their coast. They've been at sea, on the rivers, since birth. Meanwhile, many of the Mongol troops, though fierce on land, are untested in naval combat. Hung Dao knew that defeating the Mongol navy would not only be a crucial victory on its own, but it would also demoralize the land troops, making them an easier target later on. The Bac Dang river itself is a natural marvel, a place where five streams converge, their waters rushing to the sea through three smaller tributaries. It's not a long stretch, barely five kilometers, but it's the perfect battleground. Here, the river widens and deepens, a trait that changes dramatically with the tides. At high tide, the river swells to over 1,200 meters across, a deceptive expanse that looks like smooth sailing for any fleet. But when the tide ebbs, the river reveals its true nature, narrowing to expose treacherous depths, some plunging as far as 16 meters. This is where Hung Dao's genius comes into play. He orders sharp, sturdy stakes, crafted from massive limb trees, to be driven deep into the riverbed. Each was carefully measured, with diameters ranging from 20 to 30 centimeters, and lengths stretching over two meters, some even approaching three. Each stake spaced between 90 centimeters and 1.2 meters apart, forming an underwater barrier reinforced by horizontal beams. These aren't just random poles, but carefully positioned traps, hidden beneath the water when the tide is high. The stakes stretch across the entrances of the Shan, Ken, and Root tributaries, creating a deadly obstacle course. Their purpose? To stop enemy ships dead in their tracks, force them into tighter channels, and guide them straight into the jaws of Dai Viet's ambush. And what an ambush it is. The stakes serve a dual purpose. They not only block escape routes, but also cripple the enemy ships when the tide recedes. As the water drains away, these stakes rise like menacing teeth, ready to tear through the hulls of any unsuspecting vessels. The natural topography of the region provided both cover and mobility. Troops and boats could gather in secret, hidden by the towering mountains and thick forests. From these concealed positions, they could launch swift, coordinated strikes. The geography not only concealed the ambush, but also allowed Dai Viet's forces to maneuver with ease, striking and retreating as needed. But before you give all the credit to the Great Lord Hung Tau's brilliance, let's pause for a moment. His genius wasn't just in strategy, it was in his ability to learn from the past. Over 300 years earlier, on this very stretch of the Bac Dang River, Dai Viet's ancestors had already set a remarkable precedent. In 938, they annihilated the invading Southern Han forces using a similar tactic. Here's how it played out during his time. The enemy was on the run, retreating from Van Kiep toward the Bac Dang River. But this wasn't a hasty escape. Togan's forces were still dangerous, guarded by a powerful cavalry escort. Along the escape route from Van Kiep to Bac Dang, he positioned a combined force of Dai Viet's army and local militias, each with a crucial mission. First, they were tasked with breaking up the Mongol cavalry, isolating Togan's ships from their protection. The idea was simple, but effective. Deny the enemy their eyes and ears, and they'd be flying blind. By keeping the retreating fleet unaware of the ambush awaiting them along the riverbanks, Hung Do ensured his plans remained a well-guarded secret. And so, with precision and patience, Dai Viet's forces harried the retreating enemy, never fully engaging, only pressuring and steering them toward the trap. The timing of this operation was everything. Hung Do's troops needed to ensure the Mongols reached the ambush site precisely as the tide began to recede. Only then would the stakes hidden beneath the river's surface rise, turning the calm waters into a graveyard for enemy ships. It was the 9th of April, 1288, and the mighty Yuan Mongol fleet, fresh from their relentless campaign, was making its way down the Bac Dang river. The tide was high, and the sea was calm, which was exactly what Great Lord Hung Do had been waiting for. The Dai Viet fleet went out in full force, rowing toward the Yuan. Eager and confident, the Yuan took the bait. Thinking the Dai Viet forces were retreating, they pushed their entire fleet into the river, chasing down what they thought was an easy target. But as they moved deeper into the river, the tide was already starting to shift. As if on cue, just as Great Lord Hung Do had predicted, the water began to recede, pulling the Yuan ships into a deadly trap. They hadn't realized it yet, but they were already entering the heart of the ambush. The Dai Viet fleet, still pretending to retreat, then suddenly turned on a dime. From the flanks, ships surged forward, surrounding the Omar forces on all sides. Then, as if from nowhere, the Yuan found themselves entangled in a field of sharp wooden stakes, hidden just beneath the surface. They were now helpless as their ships smashed into the spikes, breaking apart and sinking one by one. The river, which had been so peaceful just moments ago, erupted in chaos. The Viet forces launched their counterattack. Some ships charged head on into the Yuan lines, while others flanked and attacked from the sides. And if that wasn't enough, at just the right moment, boats loaded with fire-starting materials were launched into the water, sending waves of flames into the heart of the Yuan fleet. An entire stretch of the Bac Dang river lit up in a blaze of fire, as the invader ships were consumed by flames, their wooden hulls crackling and snapping in the heat. But even then, the Yuan Mongols weren't done yet. They tried to regroup and pushed their forces up to the Trang Khen mountains, hoping the higher ground would give them an advantage. But just as they thought they had found some safety, another hidden force from Dai Viet, waiting in the mountains, was ready. As the Yuan troops made their stand, the Dai Viet ambush struck hard, pushing them down into the river. Nestled within the river is Kok Rocky Coast, a natural barrier made up of five jagged stone outcrops. These stones block nearly three-quarters of the river's width, turning the flow into a series of narrow, treacherous channels. This natural defense became a silent ally, stopping the ships in their tracks. The river's winding path, combined with the rocks jutting from the water, forced the Yuan into narrow passages where they couldn't maneuver, making them vulnerable. As the Yuan ships struggled to find a way through the river's winding paths, Dai Viet's forces closed in. The escape route to Nam Trieu, the only hope of retreat, was blocked. The Yuan had no choice but to face the relentless force of Dai Viet's naval might, or perish in the jaws of the Bac Dang River. One by one, their ships were pierced, sinking like dominoes falling one after the other. The battle reached its peak. With the air thick with smoke, and the water stained with blood, Great Lord Hung Dao, along with King Tran Thanh Tong, and former King Tran Thanh Tong, led the final charge. Their fleet, the mightiest of the Dai Viet, was ready to strike. The king's presence, leading the charge, was like a spark that set the entire army ablaze with energy. Every sword strike, every arrow shot, was a nail in the coffin for the invaders. The elite guards, those who usually protected the royal family, now had the chance to fight freely, and they poured their fury onto the invaders. Every oar stroke, every sail, every weapon was a part of this overwhelming tide. Meanwhile, the Yuan Mongol forces were crumbling. The very sight of the royal fleet charging in sent waves of panic through their ranks. It was as if the ground was falling away beneath them. They tried to fight back, but the tide had already turned. The Dai Viet closed in like a wave, crashing over rocks, relentless and unstoppable. The battle surged forward with the roar of battle cries, the clash of steel, and the shrieks of the dying. Blood soaked the river, staining it a deep crimson as the Yuan found themselves surrounded on all sides. By the end of the battle, it was clear, the Yuan Mongol army had been completely utterly defeated. Their once proud fleet, about six hundred strong, was either destroyed or captured. Nearly four hundred ships were taken by the Dai Viet, and the remaining two hundred were sunk beneath the waves, their wreckage sinking into the depths of the river. The Yuan Mongol soldiers, around sixty thousand strong, were either dead or captured. Not a single one escaped. On land, a blend of royal soldiers and local militias pursued the Togon team relentlessly. Thousands of them cut across the land and set up ambushes, blocking every escape route. The Yuan forces were forced into battle after battle just to break free, but for every inch they gained, they lost more soldiers. Togon had no choice but to send a small force of three thousand elite troops to cover the retreat of the rest of his army. But just as it seemed like the Yuan Mongols were on the brink of being completely wiped out, a change in command came from the highest authority. The king, Tran Nhan Tong, issued an order. Cease the pursuit. Stop the chase. Let Togon's forces retreat. It was a surprising move, but one that carried immense strategic weight. Great Lord Hung Dao and the king understood the picture. They wanted to inflict enough damage to show the Yuan dynasty the strength of Dai Viet, but they also knew that continuing the chase could lead to endless conflict. The Yuan dynasty was vast and powerful, and another drawn out war could devastate the people of Dai Viet. Tran Nhan Tong, ever the visionary, believed in peace, not just victory. But the decision wasn't easy for everyone. The Dai Viet soldiers, burning with the rage of past invasions, wanted to see their enemy crushed entirely. They couldn't stomach the idea of sparing Togon after everything they had suffered. Driven by anger and a thirst for vengeance, the commanders ignored the king's order and continued to press the retreating Yuan. They used the terrain to their advantage, high mountains and thick forests, setting traps, raining poisoned arrows, and ambushing the Yuan at every turn. The Yuan soldiers, already beaten down, fell in droves, their bodies piling up along the roads. It was a brutal sight. And then, after what must have felt like an eternity, Togon and what remained of his army stumbled back to their homeland, broken and bloodied. It was February 19th, 1288. The invasion that had started with thousands of fierce soldiers now ended with a mere handful limping home. Their morale shattered, their spirit crushed. The third Mongol invasion of Dai Viet, a campaign that had seemed unstoppable at the start, had come to a brutal and humiliating end.