by Jeff Shaara
Onishi seemed puzzled. “So, you are proposing we target only their heaviest ships? What of their aircraft carriers? You know my feelings—that if we engage in a war with the Americans, or anyone else, our airpower must be superior. I believe that right now, it is. Eliminating their aircraft carriers will win us the war.”
Fukudome spoke up now. “Forgive me, Admiral. But what ‘war’ are we fighting? There is talk, certainly, all those speeches that come out of Tokyo, but we are not at war with anyone. Why do you speak as though we are?”
There was a silent moment, and Yamamoto said, “Because we will be at war. There is not enough wisdom in our government, in our army, to understand why they should avoid that. They speak too often of our pride, our rightful place, our destiny in this world. They believe the Pacific Ocean belongs to Japan, that it is our right to take what we require. They are already planning the occupation of Southeast Asia, of the Dutch East Indies. There are great resources to be had—petroleum, metals, as well as deepwater ports and airfields. Our destiny. No one seems aware that this entitlement might have a cost.” He slid one paper toward Onishi. “Here, as I said, they are insisting on a plan to invade the Philippines, that perfect bait to lure the American fleet to its death.”
Onishi said, “What would happen if the Americans did not respond? What if they conceded the loss of the Philippines, rather than put their fleet at risk?”
Yamamoto feigned amazement. “What absurdity! Such a thing is not possible. The plan will become reality, because the plan says it will happen. Those who have created this strategy cannot be wrong, because the plan says they will not be wrong. The plan says we will be victorious, and so, we will be victorious.”
He sat back, crossed his arms. Onishi leaned his arms on the table, shook his head.
“And so, you offer them a different plan?”
“I am under none of their illusions that my plan fulfills some kind of destiny. Nor do I think their minds can be changed. We do require the resources of Indo-China, Sumatra, Bali, all the rest. The army has proposed that in time, we occupy India and Australia, and no one dares to disagree with the army. Of course, the Philippines cannot be left unmolested, since the Americans would threaten our left flank as we move southward. So, we must strike there. But I do not believe the fantasy that such a move will invite the American navy to its certain doom. They will not rush across the Pacific in a blind need for vengeance. They have not grown strong by foolishness. And so, I have suggested an alternative, to delay any interference from the Americans that would impede all of this ‘destiny’ we hear about.”
Onishi shook his head, fumbled with the empty whiskey glass. “I am concerned that your goal is too ambitious. The Ministry will never believe you can create a plan to destroy the American fleet.”
Yamamoto stood now, energized by the argument. “I do not believe we can destroy the American fleet. But I do propose that we damage it severely. I propose that we strike their battleships and their aircraft carriers, their magnificent symbols. I propose that the message we send to the American people and their government is that we have these capabilities. We must instill the fear in them that we are a mad and unpredictable people, who could strike them at any place, at any time. We do not have to attack California. We just have to convince them that we might. This attack is not about victory, about winning a war. It is about delaying them, keeping them back, damaging their military might and their pride. My duty as commander in chief of the fleet is to use that fleet to support the strategies of others, to allow us a more secure passage for all those lofty goals to the south that Tokyo insists upon.”
Onishi stared at the papers in front of him. “Sir, surely you accept that the challenges are…well, they are overwhelming. Consider the distance between our ports and Hawaii, the need for refueling our ships, the number of aircraft carriers required to transport sufficient numbers of planes. And, to me, the greatest challenge of all: the need for absolute secrecy. How do we ensure that the Americans do not learn of this plan, and are not waiting for us? We would be sending an armada across an enormous span of open ocean. If we are spotted by a single American submarine, a single reconnaissance plane, even a merchant ship, the entire plan could collapse, or worse, could result in annihilation of our entire force. As soon as a declaration of war is issued, they will come to full alert, in every way.”
“Then there will be no declaration of war. The assault itself will be all the declaration required. Let us just say, it will be obvious. In the meantime, yes, the entire operation must be kept utterly secret. And you are correct in your appraisal. It is challenging.”
“What would you have me do? What is my duty here?”
Yamamoto pointed a finger at him. “Your duty is to create pilots: Choose them well, train them, teach them. They need not know what they are training for. That will come in time. You have an admirable passion for the airplane. Put that to practical use.”
Fukudome stood, pacing slowly, eyes down. “I do not understand how you believe we can defeat the Americans. Such talk is foolishness.” He paused, recognizing the bluntness of his words. “Please forgive me, Admiral, but I am concerned that you are putting yourself in great danger, that the government will use any defeat against the Americans as an excuse to remove you from your command. And this plan, it cannot succeed. Do you not see that?”
“I never suggested we would defeat the Americans, Shigeru. For several months we may prevail, achieve magnificent victories over unprepared opponents. But I am under no illusion that we have the ability and the resources to outlast the United States or Britain. We can damage great ships, and they will build more. We can shoot their airplanes from the sky, and they will build more. If the war should last for a year, two years, we will not prevail.” He paused. “I know you do not support this plan, that you feel I am insane. But all I propose is an attack that will paralyze the Americans, for perhaps six months. That’s all. My ideas are no more grandiose than that.”
He paused, and Onishi seemed surprised.
“You say we will not prevail. And yet this assault would start the very war you don’t think we can win. I have never heard you express such a contradiction, sir.”
Yamamoto let out a long breath. “Never assume I favor war. There are decisions being made by men whose only talent is mindless ambition, and they have made a war inevitable. They believe that if they say anything loudly enough, it will become truth. We signed that absurd Tripartite Pact with the Germans, and now we mimic the ways of Hitler, and preach war with the United States. What do you suppose will happen if the Germans defeat the British, and the Americans defeat us? Does no one realize that the Germans will happily march into Japan and pick up the pieces for themselves? America is not a nation of conquest. Germany is. And now, because it is exciting, because we must establish our greatness, we will conquer as well. There will be a great cost in that, unless we are perfectly successful, unless we defeat everyone who will stand in our way. Where do we find that strength? Where do we find the money? Yes, money. It costs enormous sums of money to fight a war. America has money, a great deal of it, a great deal more than Japan.”
Yamamoto looked down at his hands, flexed the three fingers on one hand, stretched the stiffness in his back. “I am fifty-seven years old, my friends. I carry the wounds of our great victory over the Russians. It cost me two of my fingers. But it cost Japan its humility. Those who hope for war only know victory. It is too late for me to lust after heroics, seeking medals and shrines. I have had a very good career; I have earned respect. I have taught young fliers their craft, and I have taught young officers how to lead.”
He paused. “If we strike the Americans hard, if we so shock them from their complacent superiority, then it is possible they will turn away from making war. Or, at least, they will take their time. But for all those here who claim they are weak? I have been to their factories in Chicago and Detroit. In Te
xas, they have oil wells that stretch beyond the horizon. No, they are not weak. But a great many American civilians are passionately against a war. Perhaps there is a small chance to show those people how ugly a war can be. If we can damage and frighten them, they might persuade their government to keep away, at least for a while. That would make our army very unhappy, of course. They hope to charge with their bayonets at every nation on this earth. But it is the only hope Japan has to survive.”
Onishi seemed to animate, fists pounding slowly on the table. “So many challenges. How can you believe this will work? I am very skeptical. There are difficulties even you cannot foresee.”
Yamamoto was impatient now. “Of course there are challenges! Of course there are unforeseen difficulties. This is not a game of mah-jongg. We must strike the Americans where they are vulnerable. I do not intend to wait for them to understand the value of the airplane as you and I do.”
“When do you expect to hear from the Naval Ministry? Do you believe they will approve your plan?”
Yamamoto sagged in his chair. “There is a fable, of a man pushing a boulder up a steep hill. Right now, I am that man.”
Onishi leaned forward, his arms on the table. “I shall offer support as I can, sir. I can assure you that the air squadrons will accept this duty with enthusiasm.”
Fukudome seemed frustrated, said to Onishi, “Then, you believe this plan is practicable?”
Onishi smiled. “I believe this plan is possible.”
Fukudome stood, moved closer to the map sketches on Yamamoto’s table. “Sir, is there no other way to trap the American fleet? Why not attack them piecemeal on the open sea?”
Yamamoto had been through this with Fukudome before, had no patience for it.
“Piecemeal is useless. No one retreats from piecemeal. The American Pacific fleet is headquartered in Hawaii, and there is nowhere in this hemisphere where they are as vulnerable as they are at Pearl Harbor. If you want the lion’s cubs, you enter the lion’s den. I want as many of those cubs to be as damaged as possible.”
He was feeling exhausted, wanted a moment alone with Onishi. He looked at Fukudome, said, “Go, find Commander Isho—I owe him a dinner. He’s the only man on this ship who has beaten me at bridge.”
Fukudome bowed, moved out, the door closing. Yamamoto waited a long second, said, “I don’t know how this will end, my friend.”
“We can be successful, sir. But there are many details, much planning, training, all of it. This is not something that can be done in a week or two.”
“I know. I need someone to plan the air assaults, to work with me on completing the details, who knows carrier aircraft, who understands the kinds of weapons we require.”
Onishi smiled. “I’ve given it a good deal of thought. Are you familiar with Commander Minoru Genda?”
Yamamoto said, “Not sure.”
“Perhaps you know him from his acquired nickname, Genda the Lunatic. He is a powerful advocate for air assaults.”
Yamamoto shook his head. “We might all be called lunatics if this doesn’t work.”
“It will work, sir.”
“You said it was only possible.”
“That just means it’s a gamble, sir.”
Yamamoto smiled. “Yes, it is. But I cannot escape the question. If it is destined for me to commit hara-kiri, I have always wondered: How much does it hurt?”
FIVE
Hull
It was called Magic, the result of an exhaustive amount of labor by a very small and very secret group of American cryptologists led by Lieutenant Colonel William Friedman. In August 1940, after more than a year and a half of examining Japanese coded messages, Friedman and his team succeeded in cracking the Japanese Purple code, the primary pathway for secret messages between the Japanese foreign ministry and Japanese embassies and consulates all over the world. For the first time, the men at the highest levels of the American government had access to the Japanese frame of mind, the vast trove of messages that filled the air to and from Tokyo. While Magic did not penetrate Japanese military codes, it opened a clear window into Japanese diplomatic communications.
The existence of Magic was a secret of the highest priority, and to limit the risk of discovery, the cryptologists created only eight decoding machines. One was sent to Admiral Thomas Hart, in command in the Philippines, a potential front line to any serious conflict with Japan. Three were given to the British, and the remaining four were divided between the American army and navy commands in Washington. As the intercepts of the Purple messages came through the various intelligence offices, they were translated, a slow and laborious process, then sealed and delivered by hand to only those few authorized to receive them, including the president, Secretary of State Hull, and Secretary of War Stimson. As well, the translations were made available to the highest level of the military: Army Chief of Staff George Marshall, Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox, and Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Harold Stark.
The Magic system was far from perfect, the intelligence officers often inundated with dozens of Purple’s messages, some completely innocuous, some of critical importance. The sheer volume often meant days of labor in decoding each message. Thus, when messages of even the highest priority were passed along to the necessary recipients, they might be days old, and so, in some cases, obsolete. But as an alternative to a complete void of information, the Magic intercepts could at least open the door to the thinking of the Japanese, to whatever instructions or cautions they were sending out to their diplomats. And, one of those included the newest ambassador to the United States, Kichisaburo Nomura.
THE CARLTON HOTEL, WASHINGTON, D.C.—SATURDAY, MARCH 8, 1941
Nomura had made his official introductions to both Hull and the president the month before. Now, with Nomura settled into the Japanese embassy in Washington, Hull invited him to a working meeting, and Nomura willingly accepted.
They met in Hull’s own apartment, a comfortable set of rooms in the Carlton Hotel. Hull and his wife, Frances, had chosen the hotel as their residence for a number of reasons, comfort being a priority. But the Carlton had one other significant advantage for the secretary of state: It was situated barely two blocks from the White House.
It had become Hull’s custom to welcome foreign ambassadors and their representatives in his apartment, rather than in the cold confines of the State Department. Often he scheduled the meetings after dark, adding another layer of intimacy and cordiality to the gatherings. The convenience of this was obvious for Hull: complete control of the surroundings, which might or might not include drinks or even dinner, depending on the guest and Hull’s agenda. But there were other advantages as well. The comfortable setting, combined with an atmosphere of warmth, tended to blunt confrontations that might otherwise have been thorny. Hull soon learned that a comfortable sofa tended to loosen both the mood and the tongue of many of the foreign officials who settled into its soft cushions across from him.
Nomura was a heavy man, nearly six feet tall, a physical appearance that was very different from most of the Asians Hull had met. But he seemed to be permanently cheerful, with an endearing smile.
Nomura sat across from him now, hands clasped together, another gesture of politeness. Hull had noticed a pronounced limp, and knew from Ambassador Grew that Nomura had a glass eye. Hull avoided focusing on either, and Nomura said, “I wish to thank you for the invitation to your personal quarters. I am not happy with newspapermen, and they gather around my embassy like flocks of birds. However, they seem not to care where I spend my evenings, so they usually leave me alone when it appears I am simply retiring to my residence.”
Hull nodded with a polite smile, and Nomura continued, “They seem not to realize that I am just an employee of my government, the same as you. I can offer them nothing for their newspapers, any more than you.” Nomura smiled again. “If I might observe, Mr. Secretary, I not
ice that you are politely avoiding looking at my afflictions. Please be at ease, sir. The truth is that, about nine years ago, I was the victim of an assassination attempt, a bomb thrown by one of a radical element, a Korean gentleman who was unhappy with my government. I lost my right eye, and even today, my leg contains very many splinters. There were others beside me who were not so fortunate as to survive.”
Hull was getting used to the thickness of Nomura’s accent. Though Nomura had excellent command of English, his words could be difficult to interpret, and Hull was keeping as silent as possible, focusing his attention carefully on whatever Nomura said.
Hull knew from the Magic intercepts that Nomura’s appointment to this position had come about primarily because of his past cordiality with Roosevelt and his previous experience as a naval attaché in Washington. Hull also knew that there was considerable skepticism in Japan that Nomura would actually accomplish anything of substance. It was likely that Nomura’s sole task was to stress to the American government, especially Hull, that there was a longtime friendship between the two countries. But those days had faded away nearly a decade ago, especially with the Japanese invasion of China. Then, and now, Chiang Kai-shek, China’s leader, was an ally of the United States, and consistently made loud and vigorous demands for American military assistance against the Japanese forces occupying his country.
Hull’s patience for small talk had run its course. There were too many important topics to discuss.
“Your country has entered into the Tripartite Pact with Germany and Italy. That presents the United States and our allies with a difficult situation. I’m sure you understand that what Hitler has already achieved with his military is no less than the brutal subjugation of numerous peoples throughout Europe. It has been suggested by many around the world that your alliance with these two European dictatorships is nothing more than a plan to carve up the world into each of your spheres of influence. The American people have become aroused by the barbarity of German atrocities inflicted upon democratic peoples, and now, the American people are aroused by the words and deeds of your government.”