1945 (14 page)

"Agreed," said Truman.

"The second option was to continue the blockade and the bombing offensive. While we believe this would minimize our casualties, we are convinced that it would take an unacceptable length of time, perhaps years, to bring down the Japanese."

Truman tapped his fingers nervously. "Too long. The American public demands a quick victory and an end to the war's privation. We cannot have millions of our boys sitting on their duffs while we blockade the Japs and wait for them to give up. Good Lord, the public is after us to bring the boys home now. If we tell them there might be years of relative inaction while we wait for the Japs to quit, there'll be hell to pay."

Marshall nodded. "There are other reasons why a blockade wouldn't work. It would cause millions of civilian deaths among the Japanese from bombing and starvation, and it still wouldn't necessarily cause them to quit. After all, they are capable of providing for their own food needs, however meagerly. It is possible that, after enough deaths, they would arrive at a food-to-population equilibrium that would enable them to sustain themselves forever."

Truman shook his head in disbelief, but the basic idea seemed chillingly correct. There was no certainty that blockade would bring victory. Not ever. "We cannot wait an eternity to find out. Gentlemen, we cannot wait more than a year and there must be action. The American people demand it."

"Agreed," said Marshall, and the others murmured assent. "It goes without saying that our prisoners of war would continue to suffer terribly during this period of time, and that other casualties would still occur. There is ongoing scientific work on defoliants that would destroy the Japanese rice crop, but we will not have the herbicide in any quantities until next year at the earliest. If we do use defoliants, then the result will be tens of millions of Japanese men, women, and children dying of starvation along with our own prisoners, who would, of course, be the last to be fed."

"Which leads us back to an invasion," sighed Truman.

"Yes, sir, it does," Marshall almost whispered, and it struck Truman that the man was upset at the prospect.

"Thank you, General," Truman said. With undisguised distate, he picked up Operation Downfall's thick folder of information as well as the summary sheets. He hated reading long reports. He recalled that he'd had to be talked into reading an earlier report on the Manhattan Project shortly after taking office. "This, I presume, is current?"

"Yes," said Marshall. "At least as it has been developed to date. Changes are being made almost constantly."

"Do these changes include using atomic bombs?" Truman asked.

"Yes, but it is doubtful that we will have enough bombs or targets to make a difference," Marshall said. "The Japanese are scattering, hiding, and digging in their units to minimize the effect of both conventional and nuclear weapons."

"So we have to do it the old-fashioned way?" Truman asked bitterly.

"Yes, sir."

Truman glanced over the figures. It was an awesome enterprise. In scope it would dwarf the landings in Normandy on D-Day. No other Allied forces would land with MacArthur's army, although some Royal Navy ships were operating in the Pacific in conjunction with Nimitz. Discussions that might lead to the later inclusion of British, Australian, and Canadian troops were ongoing, but there were no plans to use them at this time.

"Well thought out. Should we attempt to deceive the Japanese into thinking we won't attack Kyushu?"

"Yes, sir," Marshall again responded. "And those efforts are called Operation Pastel. They involve feints at Korea and Formosa, as was discussed as our first option, along with a sham thrust toward the island of Shikoku, which is actually closer to Tokyo than Kyushu, but, again, out of land-based air coverage."

Truman understood what he was hearing. The inescapable conclusion was that Kyushu was the only logical target. If the American military minds could realize that, so could the Japanese. "Gentlemen, will any of our deceptions work?"

Marshall 's expression changed to one of sadness. "Probably not, sir, or at least not to any great extent, but they must be attempted."

"Then, General Marshall, what will the Japanese be doing on November first, 1945?"

Marshall found it difficult to look Truman square in the eyes. "Mr. President, they'll be waiting for us on Kyushu with everything they have."

Religion amused Col. Tadashi Sakei. Once it had been important to him, but that was when he had been very young and before so many of those he loved had been incinerated by the Americans. Since then he had seen the uselessness in believing in any god or gods who cared nothing for him. Thus, he became a convert to the cause of Japan and believed in it with zeal and fervor. Japan did care for him. Japan had nurtured and strengthened him. Japan was his god. Now he would repay her faith in him by protecting her with his life.

On the other hand, he did nothing to discourage religious beliefs in others. It mattered nothing to him whether a person believed in the gentle Buddha, the ancient rites of Shinto, or even the confusing and ridiculed logic of Christianity. All that was important was that the believer dedicate his or her life to Japan.

Thus, placing Emperor Hirohito in protective custody in a Shinto shrine near Nagasaki was an act of opportunity and expedience, not sacrilege. The Americans rarely attacked anything that looked religious, and he had gone to great lengths to keep his five-hundred-man Imperial Guards battalion dug in and out of sight during the day. Lookouts scanned the skies in all directions to watch for the enemy, who could drop like hawks on unsuspecting prey.

Shinto stood for the "way of the gods" and was the oldest religion in Japan. Devotees worshipped many gods, called kami, which were the basic force present in trees, rocks, rivers, and other parts of nature. Japan was liberally sprinkled with shrines, and this was a fairly large one with several buildings, including a charming garden that had been well tended by the priests who had run the shrine.

Sakei had chased off the religious occupants and installed Hirohito in the quarters of their senior priest. It was hardly palatial, but it was safe and secure. The buildings also kept most of his men out of sight while the others camped in a nearby grove and, to the extent possible, limited their movements to nighttime, when even the American predators slept.

As he started to walk the dirt path to the nearby village, Sakei was confident that American planes would not notice one man walking along one of the miserable excuses for roads that were so typical of Kyushu. He looked to his right and was dismayed by the sight of a score or so of his soldiers running in a single line across a field. It was probably a work group, and he made a mental note to find out who was in charge of them. He would give that unfortunate soul a harsh lesson in the virtues of staying out of sight during the day. Their officer probably thought it was safe to cut across the field since none of their hand-cranked sirens had gone off in a while, as they did several times each day to warn of American planes prowling the sky.

Sakei ignored the virtually omnipresent and high-flying bombers as they were off to bomb the cities and other major targets, but the swooping and darting fighters and dive-bombers were another matter. They were the ones that sniffed out the smaller targets and went after them like birds of prey after rodents in a field.

Sakei looked down the road and saw the man he wished to meet, Captain Onichi, the senior
kempei
officer in the area. In deference to the fuel shortage, the overweight captain rode a bicycle, with some difficulty, and a rare smile crossed Sakei's face. He had no love for the
kempei
, but the secret police, or "thought police," had their purpose. He could only wonder, however, just why the fat
kempei
captain wished to meet him under these private and discreet circumstances.

Before he could go farther, a dark shadow crossed over Sakei, and he heard the shriek of engines as the gust of air swirled dust around him. It was an American plane and it had passed just a few feet over his head.

He watched in horror as the work party scattered in blind panic with many of them heading for the presumed safety of the shrine buildings. Perhaps the plane hadn't seen them as it swept by, but then he remembered— the Americans never flew alone.

The second plane roared overhead with its guns spitting at the prey the first one had flushed. Rows of dirt exploded in the field, sending soldiers tumbling and flying, landing in bloody heaps. Within seconds, the first plane returned and it strafed the shrine, while the second sliced bloody ribbons in the grove where so many of his men were bivouacked. Sakei could only hope that his men had made it to the protection of the numerous slit trenches dug in the area.

In the grove, a soldier with more bravery than sense fired on the Yanks with a machine gun and drew the attention of a fighter, which silenced it with one savage burst of gunfire.

Sakei lay by the road as the planes made repeated passes in an arrogantly leisurely and lethal manner. For long minutes there would be relative silence, with only the distant whine of the planes' engines and the cries of the wounded to be heard. Then the screech of the fighters and the cacophonous chatter of machine guns as they sought targets became deafening. At least there were no bombs or rockets. The racks under the planes were empty. They had been dropped on targets elsewhere.

After a while, the planes bored of the game and flew off, or perhaps they were out of ammo. Sakei got to his feet and ran toward the priest's quarters. If Hirohito was dead, Sakei would have failed in his duty and the missing Crown Prince Akihito would be emperor. It could not be!

It wasn't. Sakei found Hirohito in the doorway to his quarters. He was covered with dirt and his glasses were askew, but he seemed unharmed, although obviously shaken. He heard from a noncom that the emperor, on hearing the attacking planes, had virtually flown into a trench to save himself. Sakei was pleased. Let the Son of Heaven know a soldier's fear.

Hirohito dusted himself off and acknowledged Sakei's existence. "Ah, Colonel, another Japanese victory, is it not? Very soon the Yanks will run out of bullets and surrender, won't they? After all, that is Anami's plan, isn't it?"

Sakei bowed respectfully and ignored the sarcasm. This time Hirohito was right. Japan had no roof to deflect the rain of American bombs and bullets. "I am glad you are unharmed."

Hirohito straightened his glasses. "As you should be. What went wrong with your precautions, Colonel?"

Good question, Sakei thought. The obvious culprit was the ass who'd sent that group of soldiers across the field. If he wasn't already killed by the fighters, Sakei would have him shot. He felt only slightly shamed that the men in the field had broken and run. He wondered what he would have done had he seen a plane aiming its guns directly at him.

But the American planes had taken them all by surprise. "It appears, Your Majesty, that the Americans have adopted flying extremely low as a surprise tactic. We shall have to be even more vigilant on your behalf."

Hirohito made a small noise that might have been either a snort or a derisive laugh and disappeared inside his quarters.

"Colonel?"

Sakei turned quickly. He had forgotten the
kempei
officer who'd been cycling down the road to meet him. The man was disheveled and wide-eyed with scarcely controlled fear.

"Captain, I see you too survived our little adventure."

"Happily, yes, Colonel. Do you have a moment to talk now? I did tell you it was a matter of urgency and importance regarding your honored guest."

Sakei had informed the local
kempei
commander that the emperor was under guard at the shrine. It was only logical since the
kempei
would wonder what was going on and expend a lot of effort finding out anyhow. Besides, the
kempei
were allies, however unsavory they sometimes were.

The captain looked around where the numerous dead were being stacked and the wounded were being treated. Blood was everywhere and the sounds of pain filled the air. Sakei looked around as well and grimaced. His battalion had been cruelly punished for one man's mistake.

"What I have to tell you, Colonel, may cause you to wonder whether this raid on the shrine was an opportunistic accident or an attempt by the Americans to assassinate our emperor."

Sakei almost staggered. "What?"

The captain bowed slightly. "Last night we managed to confirm the existence of either a spy or a traitor in this area. I think we should consider the possibility that the emperor's location was given away to our enemies."

Sakei's hand went instinctively to the handle of his sword. Murder the emperor? Why not? The Americans had been guilty of such criminal acts in the past. After all, hadn't they assassinated the revered Admiral Yamamoto by ambushing his plane with their fighters while he was on an inspection mission?

The more he thought of it, the more likely it became. "How?" Sakei demanded.

"We have intercepted what we strongly believe are signals to the Americans that emanate from a clandestine radio in this area. While we were never able to pick up all the transmission, we did record parts and have had them decoded. It was a simple code so it didn't take long to break. They are in English and tell of conditions here on Kyushu."

Sakei nodded grimly. "We must catch that spy and stop him." And I must make other plans for Hirohito, he added to himself. He must become even more stealthy in his actions. The Americans were too strong to confront with strength. He would keep Hirohito alive with cunning.

"Welcome back to Okinawa, General Monck. We all trust you had a fruitful journey."

"Up yours, Colonel Parker," General Monck said in a low voice that could not be heard by others. Parker's promotion to lieutenant colonel had come through shortly before Monck's officially taking over the regiment. This made Parker the second-in-command.