To Wake the Giant

by Jeff Shaara

  “Do you know what day it is?”

  He had a sudden panic that it was her birthday, searched his brain. She stepped into the room, hands now on her hips, said, “It’s Sunday.”

  “Well, yes, it’s Sunday. Hell, I knew that.”

  “Nice language on a Sunday. Are you aware that Sunday was designed as a day of rest? You have one of your assistants sitting out there with a deskload of work, and he’s here only because you would toss him to the wolves if he objected. But dear husband, I wish you would go outside and look down the street. You’ll see visitors wandering around, enjoying the summer day. If you go into the office buildings around here, except perhaps yours, you’ll find them mostly empty. People are home, with their families, enjoying time away from their work.”

  He looked back toward the papers, said, “What’s your point?”

  She laughed, as though too familiar with the brick wall she was up against. “My point, dear man, is that it’s Sunday.”

  He stopped pretending to study the paperwork, sat back, looked at her. “Well, I am certainly with my family—you, right here. I’m home, too. But that’s the best I can do, I’m afraid. These are not good times, my dear.

  “I have always said that in the eight years I have served as Franklin’s secretary of state, I was never without a crisis. But this is different. I’m not sure just how different, but it seems very much as if the entire world is at risk. Bad people, very bad people have too much power and too many weapons. I would not want to be the president, with the responsibility he has for protecting the innocent, for straddling the line between reason and insanity. In some parts of the world, the insanity is winning. And if we are not careful, it will spread to every other part of the world. That is a terrifying possibility. But never in my life has it been as real as it is now, so frightening. And none of us can afford to make mistakes.”

  She moved to him, put her hands on his shoulders, probed in her usual comforting way with her fingers. “And, I suppose that is why you must work on Sundays.”

  He looked up at her. “That is why.”

  * * *

  —

  She had gone out for lunch with the wife of some consulate official from Venezuela. He sat at his desk still, fidgeting, tried to relax. His energy was precious now, and he knew what lay ahead might consume everything he had left today, whether it was Sunday or not.

  He glanced at the clock above his bookcase, at the slow sway of the pendulum. Thoughts swirled through his head, another product of the weakness he couldn’t avoid. You’re not too old for this job, he thought. Stimson’s older; so are several of the others. But weakness is not acceptable, not in any form. And sure as hell, not with Nomura coming here yet again.

  His gaze settled on the pendulum, his eyes falling closed.

  “Sir?”

  He jolted back to consciousness, his aide at the door.

  “Oh, sir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were sleeping.”

  “I’m not sleeping, Mr. Yancey. I was examining the workings of my clock, testing its accuracy.”

  Yancey looked up at the clock. “Is it accurate, sir?”

  “Of course it is. What do you want?” He knew the answer before the young man could respond. “Nomura’s here, right?”

  “Yes, sir. Shall I show him in?”

  Hull looked around, saw nothing that required tidying. “Send him in. I’m ready for him. And Mr. Yancey…”

  “Sir?”

  “There’s nothing else on today’s calendar. You may go on home. It’s Sunday, after all.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Yancey backed out of the room, and Nomura was there quickly, the usual gracious smile, the immediate bow, his friendly greeting.

  “Good day, Secretary Hull. I am grateful to see you, especially on Sunday.”

  Hull thought, What is this attachment everybody has to Sunday? There are only seven days to get things done. One’s as good as the other.

  “Sit down, if you please, Ambassador. You may assume your usual position on the sofa there.”

  Nomura sat in the lushness of the large sofa, spread himself out just a bit, lounging without going too far. He kept up the smile but seemed to be waiting for something. Hull thought, He’s wondering if I’m going to drop another bomb on him.

  “Ambassador Nomura, I have heard no formal response from your government, or from any other channel, so I must ask you directly: Is there a response you wish to offer regarding our freezing of Japanese assets? Is there a reaction to our export ban on all products to your country?”

  Nomura dropped the smile. “We are hopeful that President Roosevelt will agree to a meeting with Prime Minister Konoye. There is much that can be discussed, and many issues that can be solved to the satisfaction of both gentlemen. It has been suggested that Hawaii would be an excellent venue. This might allow President Roosevelt a level of comfort, being on his own soil.”

  Hull had guessed this was coming, rumors swirling around Ambassador Grew in Tokyo. But Grew had cabled Hull not to expect miracles. Nomura’s smile returned, the picture of optimism, and Hull said, “We shall consider this proposal, certainly. I am curious what your prime minister would hope to accomplish. Have the angry voices in your country grown quiet? I have not heard anyone else in your government offer any sort of olive branch to the United States. Quite the opposite.”

  Nomura lost the smile, stared down for a brief moment. “I am not sure how to explain this to you, Mr. Secretary. In Japan right now, there is a great deal of conflict between the civilian government and the military. So, when you ask about the attitude of those who control so much of what is happening in Japan, yes, there is conflict, there is anger. Many of us had hoped that the relationship between my country and yours would remain cooperative, perhaps even as allies.”

  The word seemed miserably inappropriate.

  “We stopped being allies for two reasons. You invaded China, who is also our ally, and you signed a Tripartite agreement, which created alliances between you, Italy, and Germany. We have cautioned you against the course you seem intent upon following. We may also assume that because the Germans have pushed their armies into the Soviet Union, that you might do the same from your side of the world. Such are the obligations of allies.”

  Nomura held up his hands. “I regret, Mr. Secretary, that again I can offer you no information on our intentions regarding the Soviet Union—those are matters far beyond my knowledge. But please, since you mention the subject: Why have you aligned yourself with the government of China, with Mr. Chiang Kai-shek? He is no friend to you, yet you continue to support his efforts against my country’s difficulties there.”

  “I don’t have to like someone to respect his position. Chiang might be difficult at times, but he is the rightful head of the Chinese government, until the Chinese people wish otherwise. That’s how civilized governments function, Ambassador. You are the invader. You are in the wrong.”

  “My government would disagree with you, of course. I cannot contradict what course they wish me to take.”

  Hull knew this was a serious admission for Nomura. Hull shuffled the words in his mind, had thought through this argument for days now. “You are certainly aware that when Hitler began his rise to power, and then when he put that power to such destructive use against peaceful countries, it was hoped that peaceful nations could rely upon reason and decency, that the laws of man and of governments would have an effect, and that Hitler could be made to understand that he had gone far enough. As we now know, that was optimistic, to the point of being naive. So, what are we to believe now about your government? You sign a pact with Hitler, embrace his hateful talk. Now, you are making deals with other governments to take possession of land for yourself, for purposes of expanding the reach of your military.”

  Nomura stared at him for a long moment, and Hull knew t
he man was searching for words.

  “Secretary Hull, I can only communicate to you those things which my government orders me to do. I will tell you…many in my government were very confused why you had such objections to the Tripartite Pact.”

  “Are you among them?”

  Nomura was animated now. “No. Not at all. I tried to make the foreign ministry understand that the course they were following was unwise. There were many discussions about that single subject, how the United States and Britain would react. It became apparent to me that I was what you would call…a lonely voice. I warned them that there would be consequences, and I was dismissed for being a fool. It is one reason that I am here, in Washington. The ministry thought it convenient to get me out of the way. I was becoming…a bother.”

  Hull wasn’t sure how to respond, could see in Nomura’s face that he was being honest. It is rare, he thought, that he reveals something of himself.

  Nomura leaned forward, arms on his knees, unusually informal. “Secretary Hull, I must ask you a question.”

  “Certainly.”

  “The actions by President Roosevelt, the embargoes…You have taken an aggressive, harmful action against my country. We need not argue about the reasons. But there is no argument about the possible consequences. You frequently mention Hitler. Hitler pulled Germany out of the ashes of the Great War, convinced the German people they were still strong, that they could regain all they had lost. In the 1930s, as Germany grew stronger still, nations everywhere grew cautious. As Hitler used that strength to fulfill his ambitions, many nations responded by severing relations, by embargoes on goods, by sanctions, by freezing assets. I would suggest to you that such actions only helped to make him stronger, and more determined. What the world took away from him, he now takes from others as he wishes. How useful were all those embargoes and all those sanctions?”

  Hull felt a twist in his stomach. “Are you saying that the actions we have taken against Japan will ensure war?”

  “I most certainly hope not. I am suggesting only that it is possible that by taking such actions against the Japanese government, you may have increased the enthusiasm among powerful men in my government for finding other means of replacing what you’ve taken away. I fear that none of us may enjoy the results.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Hull

  THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.—THURSDAY, AUGUST 28, 1941

  They sat in a semicircle in front of the president’s desk, Stimson reading the document aloud. Much of it was basic information, a consulate relating various activities to their foreign ministry in Tokyo. Stimson stopped, wiped his glasses, said, “Now we get to the important part. I quote the following. ‘The recent general mobilization order expressed the irrevocable resolution of Japan to put an end to Anglo-American assistance in thwarting her natural expansion and her indomitable intention to carry this out, if possible, with the backing of the Axis, but, if necessary, alone.’ And, the conclusion. ‘We will endeavor to the last to occupy French Indo-China peacefully, but if resistance is offered, we will crush it by force, occupy the country and set up martial law. After the occupation of French Indo-China, next on schedule is the sending of an ultimatum to the Netherlands Indies. In the seizing of Singapore, the Navy will play the principal part. We will once and for all crush Anglo-American military power and their ability to assist in any schemes against us.’ ”

  Roosevelt kept his chin resting on one hand. “That’s it?”

  Stimson said, “Yes, sir. It was sent from the Japanese Consulate in Canton, China, to the foreign ministry in Tokyo. Magic intercepted it several days ago, and unfortunately, it took some time to translate and sort out from the mountain of documents that we’re receiving.”

  Roosevelt looked at Knox, at General Marshall beside him. “Don’t we have translators? Isn’t anyone capable of separating the important messages from useless garbage? Did it take somebody’s particular genius to figure out the importance of this cable?”

  Knox said, “Sir, the Office of Naval Intelligence is charged only with forwarding these messages to the Navy’s War Plans Division, to Admiral Turner. Several of that office’s translation crew have been on vacation. That was with Admiral Turner’s permission, of course, sir.”

  Hull stayed quiet, sat in the last chair in the row, watched the reactions of the others. He knew that Turner was one of Washington’s least-liked military chiefs, but it would never be appropriate for the secretary of state to mention that.

  Hull could see that Roosevelt was annoyed. Roosevelt said, “General Marshall, what of the army’s intelligence people, your G-2? Are those people on vacation as well, sunning themselves on some beach?”

  Marshall kept his gaze straight ahead, said, “Mr. President, as you know, the army and navy intelligence units are separate entities, and they divide their authority for handling the Magic intercepts on an alternating basis. This document happened to be intercepted on a day when the navy was handling the mail.”

  Hull looked at Frank Knox, knew that the secretary of the navy was feeling a knife planted firmly in his back. Knox didn’t wait for Roosevelt to unload on him.

  “Mr. President, I must point out that this document was sent via their Purple code at least a week or more prior to your announcing the embargo against Japan. This only reinforces why your embargo was so completely appropriate.”

  Roosevelt didn’t seem swayed. “Wonderful. So the Japanese were giving us a good reason to do what we were going to do anyway, but for entirely different reasons. I suppose if there is a silver lining to this bargeload of inefficiency, it is that. Or, perhaps the embargo doesn’t matter a hoot in hell to those people. It was our intention to squeeze their resources so they would no longer have sufficient raw materials to make war. Apparently we’ve had the opposite effect. In other words, gentlemen, no one here knows what the hell is going to happen, in Japan or anywhere else. Does that about sum it up?”

  None of the military men seemed willing to answer the question. Roosevelt lit a cigarette, sat back in his chair, waiting for any response at all. After a long silence, Hull could see Stimson preparing his words, and he spoke now with an unusually soothing tone, something Hull had rarely heard from him.

  “Mr. President, I assure you, as do Secretary Knox and General Marshall, that we shall do everything possible to tighten up the operation of both army and navy intelligence channels, including an increase in the number of interpreters. None of us will tolerate this kind of lax efficiency.”

  Roosevelt’s expression didn’t change as he glared toward all three men. “There is very little tolerance right here, Henry. There is too much at stake. You may return to your offices. I would hope that you would begin work on ‘tightening things up’ this afternoon.”

  They stood, and Roosevelt said to Hull, “Remain a moment, Cordell.”

  He caught a glance from Stimson, could see that he was not at all pleased to receive the president’s dressing-down. Roosevelt waited for the door to the office to close, said, “Did I overreact?”

  Hull was surprised by the question. “We already knew the information gained from the intercept. I don’t believe that either army or navy intelligence cost us anything. As they get more efficient with Magic, they should prove themselves far more useful. Surely you agree.”

  Roosevelt smoked the cigarette, a cloud of smoke swirling above him. “You know, when Stimson was secretary of state under Hoover, he made quite a nuisance of himself to the military people. He insisted that intelligence intercepts were immoral, as though we shouldn’t read someone else’s mail. Of course, back then, half the world wasn’t at war, or about to be. There aren’t too many people around Washington who can stake a claim to as much service to his country as Henry Stimson. You’re right there with him, of course. But I’m not certain he appreciates the value of this Magic thing.”

  “I’m not certain that I do.�
��

  Roosevelt seemed surprised. “Why the hell not? It tells us exactly what the Japanese mind is up to, and what they’re telling their foreign offices. There should be no fog in their messages, no need for veiled talk. They’re talking to their own people, for God’s sake, so you’d assume they were being factual.”

  “Yes, we’re listening in to what they’re telling their diplomats. Ambassador Nomura is one of them, and they’re telling him only what they want him to know. Surely that’s the case all over the world.”

  Roosevelt held up the paper with the intercepted dispatch. “Did he receive this?”

  Hull thought a moment. “Nomura? I’m not sure, actually. I get your point.”

  “Look, Cordell, we already know that he’s over here as a puppet, a mask for what the Japanese are really thinking and planning. I know you trust him, and from my own contacts with him, I think he’s a decent man, a man who is loyal to his country. But his usefulness to us is one-way. If we’re intercepting what he’s being told, we’ll already know anything he can tell us. But we need him for the opposite reason. We tell him exactly what we want him to communicate to his government, and see what the response is. Obviously, we keep listening to him, giving no hint that we’re getting the same memos he is.”

  “Certainly, Mr. President.”

  “God, I wish you’d stop that. We’re alone. Call me any damn thing you want.”

  Hull smiled. “No, Mr. President. As long as you’re on that side of your desk, and I’m over here, I’m playing by the rules.”

  Roosevelt sniffed. “I bet you’re the only one who thinks that way. Stimson probably goes home and tells his wife exactly where he wants me to go.”

  “Oh, I do that too, sir.”

  Roosevelt laughed. “See? You’re an honest man. That’s why you were a lousy politician. And if you’d have run for this office like I wanted you to, by now you’d be as good a liar as the rest of us.” Roosevelt snuffed out the cigarette, slid the dispatch aside, flipped through another sheaf of papers. “What’s happening with Prime Minister Konoye? Any word yet on whether we’re going to meet face-to-face? And don’t tell me we’re waiting for Magic to tell us. I’m growing old as it is.”