To Wake the Giant

by Jeff Shaara

  “It’s possible, and I say this with utmost respect for Betty Stark, that he is crying wolf. It would not be the first time. We have received similar notes in the past, indicating Washington’s concerns about all manner of potential difficulties we might be facing out here. It seems that the farther one gets from the War Department, the greater our dangers must seem to those people. Anyone reading the local newspapers here would believe there is a war breaking out every Sunday. I would imagine the same is true for anyone reading The New York Times.”

  Kimmel took the paper from Smith, glanced at it. “This message specifically mentions those locales under threat of attack, and none of this is a surprise to us. It is my opinion that, should the Japanese insist on starting a war, our forces in the Philippines are in the greatest danger. Our island bases, notably Wake, Midway, and Guam, are also vulnerable. I have never believed we had any business trying to protect islands in the middle of absolute nowhere, with resources that could be put to better use right here. But I have been overruled.

  “For that reason, I have instructed Admiral Halsey to command what we have designated as Task Force Eight. At 0800 this morning, the task force put to sea, led by Halsey’s carrier, Enterprise, along with three cruisers and nine destroyers. Also included were three battleships. The show of force is partly for any hostile eyes who pay attention to such comings and goings. The task force is very similar in makeup to many of the standard training exercises we have scheduled in the past. Thus, there is no reason for anyone locally to pay any special attention. In fact, when the task force reaches the usual training area, the battleships will hold that position, and by Friday will return to port as per our usual practice. Halsey will keep going, with a primary mission to transport combat aircraft to Wake Island. He will also exercise his own discretion to seek out and destroy any Japanese submarines he may encounter.”

  Kimmel looked at the lone army officer, said, “All right, Major. Brief these men on the army’s attitude about this mess.”

  The man glanced at the naval officers around him, said, “Sir, General Short is taking this message from the War Department very seriously. He has ordered Alert Number One, to be put into effect immediately.”

  Kimmel waited for more, then said, “He’s told me about his new system. But explain to all of us what the hell that means.”

  “Yes, sir. General Short has created a system consisting of three alerts. Alert One is to enact a vigorous defense against sabotage, espionage, and subversive activities which do not include a threat from the outside. Alert Two includes the conditions for number one, plus defense against air, surface, and submarine attack. Alert Three is defense against all-out attack. Thus, sir, General Short is taking serious precautions to head off the possibility of sabotage against all our installations. Special attention will be paid to the activities of the Japanese indigenous population of the island, which as you know, sir, numbers some one hundred fifty thousand people.”

  From the far side of the room, Smith said, “Does the general have any serious indications that there are movements or organizations on the island of Oahu that would engage in acts of sabotage?”

  The major stood now with the unmistakable air of a man with something important to say. “We have been working alongside the local FBI office here, as you have as well. We are fully prepared to corral any criminal elements should they attempt to make a subversive or destructive move against any of our installations.” He looked at Kimmel now. “I might also add, sir, that General Short is pleased to communicate to the naval command that our training schedule shall not be interrupted or disrupted by the War Department’s message. General Short feels most strongly that the ongoing training exercises for all of our forces are the highest priority. The gist of the War Department’s message, as you know, sir, is that we be prepared in the event the Japanese should launch an attack against our interests in the Pacific. The most effective means of preparing is training. General Short assumes that you agree, sir.”

  Kimmel nodded. “Certainly.”

  “Sir, as well, General Short interprets his instructions from Washington as including two very important conditions. It is imperative that the local civilian population not be pushed toward a panic. In other words, we must not agitate the populace unnecessarily. In connection with that, sir, General Short is adamant that he will not be accused on any level of starting a war. If the local Japanese populace should rise up against us, it could have far-reaching consequences.

  “To that end, the general is presently relocating arms and materiel, safeguarding our assets in the event of any attempts at sabotage. The general believes it is essential that we keep a close protective eye on our ordnance. This includes artillery, antiaircraft batteries, and fighter aircraft, including their stores of ammunition. All are being gathered and stored to ensure their readiness should the need arise. As General Short put it, sir, he wants to keep our powder dry and our ammunition clean. And, if most of that is under lock and key, it becomes far easier to protect it against the saboteurs. If we require the ammunition, we will access it on an as-needed basis. I must add, Admiral, that General Short feels the presence of your fleet in port here is an enormous deterrent to the threat from subversive elements.”

  Kimmel seemed to digest the man’s report, then said, “Major, I will not offer opinions on General Short’s command or his decisions. He has his duties, I have mine. I’m confident that General Short also accepts that one of the army’s primary responsibilities in Hawaii is to protect the fleet when we’re in the harbor.”

  He paused. “Unlike the message General Short received from the War Department, what I was told by Admiral Stark is that we are to assume a ‘defensive posture.’ Admittedly, I am not completely clear on that meaning, since, as these men know well, in the navy there is no such thing. That is no insult to the army, Major, but at sea, there is no place to dig a foxhole. While I understand General Short’s focus on the immediate threat to this island, I am training this fleet for an aggressive wartime footing—thus the orders to Admiral Halsey. In addition, the carrier Lexington will put to sea within the week. I wish I could send the Saratoga out there as well, but she’s going the other way, en route to the mainland for repairs.

  “Gentlemen, I have long insisted that we should take the offensive, take the war across the ocean, right into the heart of our enemy. I made that case to President Roosevelt when I was in Washington this past summer. I insisted in the strongest terms then, as I insist now, that the two new battleships coming on line, North Carolina and Washington, be sent here to strengthen the Pacific fleet. Thus far, I am a voice in the wilderness. However, I am greatly concerned that the president’s decision will leave us extremely vulnerable in the Philippines. But at least with our carriers moving that way, we should be better prepared. And we shall prevail.”

  Kimmel stood, the signal to the others to rise as well. Rochefort felt his head swimming, thought, Get me back to my radios. Beside him, Layton gave him a gentle push toward the door, the others falling into line, filing out. They paused outside the doorway, and Rochefort heard Kimmel’s voice, the army major still in the office.

  “Make sure you remind General Short of our golf game Sunday—0800 I believe.”

  “Yes, sir. And he asked me to remind you, sir, that tomorrow is the Army-Navy game.”

  “He hardly needs to remind me of that. I took ten bucks off the last general I served with. I’ll do the same to him.”

  HQ, COMMANDER IN CHIEF PACIFIC FLEET, PEARL HARBOR—TUESDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1941

  Rochefort pushed the door open, didn’t wait for a friendly greeting. Layton sat at his desk, across from Rochefort’s immediate superior, Captain Mayfield. Both men seemed annoyed at the interruption, and Layton said, “Jesus, Joe, you can’t wait a half minute?”

  “No, I can’t. Whatever you’re talking about isn’t as important as this.”

  Mayfield looked at
Layton, said, “He’s usually right. All right, Joe, what have you got?”

  Rochefort took a deep breath. “The Japanese have changed their radio codes, the call signals for their ships.”

  He was breathing heavily, waited for a response from either man. Mayfield said, “So? Don’t they do that fairly often?”

  Rochefort felt a pulsing anger, impatience with the question. “No, they don’t. They change their codes every six months, like clockwork. These codes were changed after four weeks. That’s all. Four weeks.”

  Both men stared at him, and Layton said, “What does it mean?”

  The words came out in a shout. “How the hell do I know what it means? But it means something. It’s not like some damn admiral got a bug up his butt and decided last month’s codes stunk. If they’ve figured out that we’re listening to them, they suddenly don’t want us to know where their ships are going. Logically, it means they’re preparing for a large-scale operation. At the very least, they’re tightening up their security.”

  Mayfield said, “If they’ve figured out we’re listening to them, maybe they’re throwing a wrench into your earphones. Hell, they’re probably listening to us, and they decided to put a bug up your butt just by changing their codes. It could just be their way of playing with you.”

  Rochefort was calming down, said, “I don’t know. It’s just that they’ve never done this before. They’re a very methodical people. There’s a rhythm to them, which is why I can pick out the keys coming from several of their ships, like I know the operator personally. This is just…out of rhythm. It means something. I just don’t know what.”

  There was a knock on the open door, a young lieutenant.

  “Excuse me, sirs. Captain Smith has requested your presence in the admiral’s office, right away.”

  Layton said, “All of us?”

  “Sir, to quote Captain Smith, ‘Find anybody who knows anything about the damn Japs.’ ”

  Layton said, “I guess that’s all of us.”

  They followed the young officer up the stairs, and Rochefort could already hear Kimmel’s voice, loud and angry. The lieutenant hesitated at the closed door for a pause in whatever Kimmel was shouting about. The break came, and he rapped lightly, Smith pulling open the door.

  “Gentlemen, take a seat. Sit tight.”

  At the far end of the office was Captain “Soc” McMorris, the admiral’s war plans officer. He gave a silent nod toward the others.

  Kimmel was holding a telephone to his ear, said, “Fine. You do that. You find out just where I’m going to find a hundred fresh pilots, and the planes to stick ’em in. I’ve got Washington pushing me to send aircraft all over the damn Pacific, and I’m not interested in hearing any guff about what we ought to be doing with them right here. Someone decides to give you my job, then you can come up here and run this show. Until then, you’ll do what the hell I tell you to do.”

  He dropped the phone onto the receiver with a loud clatter, stared at it for a long minute. He seemed to realize now that the others were there.

  “I am so damn tired of people under my command telling me what’s good for my command. We’re strapped to beat hell trying to get more of the new PBY flying boats, and Commander Jacobson wants to put them all in the air, burning gas flying circles around Oahu, when we haven’t even broken them in yet. Never mind that sooner or later we’re going to need those damn things on the far side of the Pacific, never mind that we’re short of decent pilots, and never mind that every base from Midway to Manila is screaming for fighter planes. Not only that, he wants to send up just about anything else we’ve got that will fly, and send them off like a herd of butterflies.

  “I keep telling these people, recon is the army’s job. They’re supposed to be looking out for the bugaboos here. They’ve got as many planes here as we do, and they’re bellyaching because they haven’t gotten their B-17s yet. Hell, even I know that there’s a dozen or more headed this way, and I’m sure Washington will order them sent on to MacArthur, whether General Short likes it or not. We take our own pilots out of their training routines here, send them off sightseeing, and all we’re doing is wasting time and gasoline. I won’t have it. And, neither will he.”

  He seemed to sag, looked at the three intel officers. “I guess having some junior grade shavetail arguing with me is better than a yes-man. I hate yes-men. Don’t agree with me just to make me happy. It doesn’t.”

  He reached down into his desk, pulled out a folder, opened it, slapped it down. “Here’s another gem. This was received this morning. You familiar with Commander Arthur McCollum, ONI in Washington?” Kimmel didn’t wait for a reply. Rochefort knew they were all familiar with McCollum. “He sent this note, obviously something they picked up from a Japanese transmission somewhere. I’m beginning to feel like no one in Washington has any idea what they should be telling us except that the Japanese might do something, or they might not, or we should be afraid, or maybe not. Read this, all of you.”

  Layton took the paper, passed it along to Mayfield, who handed it to Rochefort.

  “Circular 2444 from Tokyo one December ordered London, Hong Kong, Singapore, and Manila to destroy Purple machine. Batavia machine already sent to Tokyo. December second Washington also directed destroy Purple and all but one code of other systems and all secret documents. British Admiralty London today reports embassy London has complied.”

  Kimmel waited for Rochefort to finish, then said, “All right. Three top-flight intel officers sitting in front of me. Can someone tell me, first, what the hell this message is about? Why should we consider this important? And, please, what the hell do they mean by ‘Purple’?”

  Layton said, “They’re referring to a message sent from Tokyo—as you said, sir, number 2444—that apparently went out to their embassies, or operatives in London, Batavia, Hong Kong, Manila, and Singapore. It’s an order to destroy…well, I don’t know what. Whatever it is, their London office has complied.”

  “What the hell does this have to do with Hawaii, Commander?”

  Layton looked at the other two. “I don’t see anything about Hawaii, but Commander McCollum must have a reason for sending this to you, sir.”

  “And again, Commander, ‘Purple’ refers to what?”

  “Sir, I’m not familiar with the meaning.”

  Kimmel looked at Rochefort. “You? Either of you?”

  Mayfield shrugged, and Rochefort said, “Sir, I have no idea.”

  Kimmel shoved the paper back into his desk. “Well, maybe one day they’ll explain it to us. Now, Commander Layton, there’s another reason I called you in here. I’ve got a big damn map over here, and I’ve got Admiral Halsey out there with a carrier task force just itching for a fight. And I’ve got Washington telling me we can probably expect one, sooner or later, somewhere or other. So, why don’t you show me where the Japanese fleet is.”

  Layton stood, leaned toward the map, and Kimmel said, “Not the entire fleet, mind you. I know all about the South Seas and submarines in the Carolines. I just want to know about their carrier divisions, One and Two. That’s four flattops, at least. Halsey runs into those fellows, he won’t like the odds.”

  Layton glanced back at Rochefort, who knew what was coming.

  “Sir, I do not have that information. For a couple of weeks now, there has been no radio traffic from the carriers. We are confident that they are anchored in their home waters, though I admit, sir, we do not know that with certainty.”

  Kimmel stood, put his hands on his hips, looked at Rochefort, then back to Layton. “So, you don’t have the first idea where Carrier Division One and Carrier Division Two are?”

  “No, sir.”

  Kimmel moved close to the map, planted a finger on one spot. “Do you mean to say that they could be rounding Diamond Head and you wouldn’t know it?”

  “I would hope, sir, tha
t they would have been sighted before that.”

  Kimmel sat again, pointed to Layton’s chair. “Sit down, Commander. You gentlemen were in this office four days ago, while we gnashed our teeth over the messages we had received from Washington. I cannot speak for General Short and how much gnashing is still going on over there. But I have concluded that this navy is too big and too sophisticated to fall prey to an enemy as weak as the Japanese. It is certainly possible that they will attempt to attack us via the submarine, hitting the fleet when we are out on training maneuvers. I do not intend to forgo that training just to keep us safe and warm in Pearl Harbor. It is a concern that we do not know the location of the Japanese carrier divisions. My point here was to push you boys just a little harder to do the job. And you will.

  “For now, I have a mathematics problem to confront. I am to strengthen the island bases—Wake, Midway, all the rest—while maintaining adequate air strength right here. When Washington’s message of the twenty-seventh was being tossed about with General Short and his people, there was concern expressed that Oahu might be vulnerable to air attack from the Japanese.” He looked toward McMorris. “The captain here set my mind at ease, certainly. Tell them what you told me, Captain. Is there any chance of an attack on Oahu?”