The rationale was simple. Because men around Hirohito had forced his hand, the younger officers were only seeking to rid the government of this subversive group. If the Emperor had been beguiled by men like Kido and Suzuki, the military did not have to honor a proclamation from the Throne. It made sense to Hatanaka and his followers, and now they wanted Ida to come with them.
Colonel Ida excused himself and went out to talk with others in the War Ministry. When he came back, he tried to reason with Hatanaka: “It’s difficult to convince even our group of friends around here. It will be more difficult to persuade General Mori.” He repeated his first question: “In that case, what will you do?”
Shiizaki broke in: “I’m sure God will help us. We must attempt a coup.”
Hatanaka added, “If Mori doesn’t agree with us, I’ll kill him.”
Ida was shocked. His fears rising, he then asked about General Tanaka, another in the group of generals the rebels needed.
Hatanaka airily dismissed this issue. “It’s not positive yet but if the Imperial Guards Division goes, all of the Army will follow us. Of that I’m sure.”
Ida instinctively felt the danger of the situation but he did not want to desert his old friend. Though he knew that the coup was beginning on forlorn hopes, he gave in and agreed to go to General Mori. Hatanaka smiled happily as the two shook hands.
The one man who held the absolute power to make any coup succeed was involved at this time in drafting the Emperor’s speech to the people, to be given on the following day. Closeted with the cabinet, General Anami was engaged in a running verbal battle to soften the language of the declaration. Even at the end of the war, Anami was trying desperately to salvage the reputation of his army, to shift the blame for the country’s defeat away from his men. His overriding concern was for the Emperor’s safety, but as the last moments of the struggle approached, he was determined to word the proclamation so that the stigma would not fall on the Army.
When the cabinet discussions were finally over late in the evening, Anami was tired and utterly despondent. Burdened with a general’s grief at surrendering his forces, at turning over his country to the enemy, he went to say goodbye to a man he deeply admired: Admiral Suzuki. Dressed in his braided and bemedaled uniform and wearing white gloves, Anami carried a box of cigars to the old man. He presented this gift and said, “I should have given you every assistance in this war, but I am afraid I have caused you a great deal of trouble instead.”
Suzuki immediately grabbed the general’s hand, and the two leaders stood looking at each other for a long moment. The Premier realized that Anami was offering his friendship, and was deeply moved by the gesture. “I fully appreciate your painful position,” the old man said. “I have not yet lost hope for the future of Japan.”
Anami agreed with that thought, then bowed and walked from the room. Tearfully, Suzuki watched the door close.
The War Minister left for his official residence near the center of the city. His public life was ended. The formalities had been concluded and he could lay down his sword and title.
When Anami reached home, his servants noticed his somber mood. He went straight to his first-floor bedroom and ordered some sake wine and cheese brought in. Stripping off his coat, he sat down on a tatami mat and wrote with a brush on a large sheet of paper. The room was quiet, the atmosphere tranquil. Outside the house the air was sultry, the streets empty.
Shortly before midnight, the now-committed Ida arrived at the headquarters of the Guards Division just inside the walls of the Imperial Palace grounds. The building was crowded with soldiers running and shouting through the corridors. General Mori was inside his office talking to his brother-in-law, Colonel Shiraishi. Ida waited in the hallway with his fellow conspirators. Shiizaki was there. So was Koga. So was Major Sadakichi Ishihara, an officer just recently transferred to Tokyo. A highly emotional man, he wholeheartedly supported the coup.
Hatanaka joined the group just as Mori announced that he would talk to them. It was twelve thirty on the morning of the fifteenth when the small group of officers crowded into Mori’s room to confront their commanding officer. The fate of their coup might hinge upon his answer. Mori was in a terrible position.
Ida, acting as spokesman, asked the general for his cooperation. Mori began a monologue on his own philosophy of life, and avoided a direct answer. He was obviously stalling.
Hatanaka listened for a few moments, then impatiently turned toward the door. Interrupting Mori, he said, “Ida, I must go out as I have something to do. Please look after my affairs while I am away.” He disappeared, leaving Ida to spar with the general.
Hatanaka hurried over to the War Ministry to talk with Colonel Takeshita, who had already given up his attempt to convince Anami to lead an uprising. After the news of the surrender, Takeshita had retreated to his own quarters and begun drinking. With his fellow officers, he tried to forget the calamitous events of the afternoon. At 12:45 A.M., Hatanaka baited him once again:
“The second regiment has already entered the palace grounds with their colors and will occupy the Imperial Palace at 2:00 A.M. All the regimental commanders have agreed with us. Everything is going well.”
Takeshita listened as the excited Hatanaka continued: “Right now we are talking with Mori. He’ll agree soon, so please help us.”
He looked at Takeshita pleadingly but the colonel hastened to dissuade him: “It’s too late. We would need the agreement of four generals, Anami, Tanaka, Mori and Umezu. That’s impossible now.” In effect, Takeshita was saying the revolt was doomed.
The two argued over this point for some minutes. Then Hatanaka broached the one favor he wanted of Takeshita: “When the coup at the palace is a success, ask Anami to come in with us. Go and ask him to do that.” Takeshita agreed to at least talk to his brother-in-law, and Hatanaka went back to the palace grounds optimistic about the possibilities for that night.
Takeshita left his quarters hurriedly and rode to the official residence of the War Minister, where Anami sat in his bedroom. The brothers-in-law greeted each other warmly. After writing two letters, Anami had sat down before a low table and started to drink from a small cup. Takeshita began to tell him of the situation at the palace but sensed that the general’s mind was on other things. He stopped in mid-sentence.
His suspicions were confirmed when Anami said, “I’m thinking of committing suicide.” He spoke matter-of-factly as though he had mentioned the weather;
Takeshita nodded. “I thought you would. But couldn’t you wait until later?”
Anami shook his head vigorously. “No, my mind is made up.” He went on to say that he had thought of waiting for a few days till the anniversary of his second son’s death, but had decided not to. “Besides, this is the anniversary of my father’s death and it would be fitting to join him now.”
The two men toasted each other with sake and talked of their families and personal affairs. It was 1:45 A.M.
In the center of the city, the deadly debate continued. Ida and General Mori had talked now for over an hour and the general had so far evaded a commitment. At one thirty Hatanaka rejoined the discussion, which now took its final, fateful turn.
Mori had run out of arguments. He looked across at the assembled rebels and suggested one last alternative: “I understand your position perfectly. Frankly, I am moved by your arguments. Now I’ll go over to the Meiji Shrine and ask God’s will.” This was his final escape route, chosen to delay the conspirators and fight for time. Since he was known for his very religious beliefs, it would be perfectly normal for him to want to meditate before making any decision.
Mori watched the men across from him for a reaction. Beside him, Colonel Shiraishi shifted uncomfortably as he watched Hatanaka and the others weigh the remark.
Mori himself broke the silence. “Ida, why don’t you go and ask my aide, Mizutani, what he thinks of the plan.” Ida rose from his chair and walked out the door. Left in the room were Mori, Shiraishi and just
two rebels. Hatanaka, dripping with sweat from his hurried trip across town, stood before Mori’s desk. At his right was another officer, a Mister X, whose identity cannot be revealed even today because of what happened in the next moments.
Hatanaka had wasted several hours of valuable time trying to plead with Mori. It was 2:00 A.M. and his patience had run out. He asked the general for a definite statement. Mori had none.
The two rebels acted almost simultaneously. Hatanaka pulled a revolver out of his holster and fired into the body of Mori. His companion ripped his sword out of its scabbard and slashed downward through the general’s left collarbone. Mori was dead in seconds. As his body slid off the chair onto the floor, the horror-stricken Shiraishi leaped up to grapple with the murderers. The man with the sword saw him coming and cut viciously at his head. The blade caught Shiraishi on the right side of his neck and continued through to his left ear. As his body toppled forward onto the floor a huge geyser of blood spurted out from the trunk and spattered the room. Held to the torso by one shred of skin, his head lay at an angle to the rest of the body. The killers looked down at the bloody corpses for a moment and then walked out into the hall.
Hearing the gunshot, Ida rushed up to Mori’s room, where he met Hatanaka coming out, holding the revolver in his right hand. Hatanaka’s face was clouded with sorrow. In a trembling voice he tried to explain: “I had no time to argue so I killed him. I couldn’t help it.” Hatanaka looked at his friend for sympathy.
At that moment, Colonel Mizutani grasped Ida’s hands in his and urged him to go at once to General Tanaka for support. Ida hurried to the headquarters of the Eastern District Army. The rebel who had decapitated Shiraishi left the palace to seek support from units in the Tokyo suburbs.
Hatanaka recovered his composure and instructed his men to issue orders forged with General Mori’s seal. It was 2:15 A.M. With Mori gone, Hatanaka could seize the palace and move to the next objective.
He had learned that the Emperor was going to report to the nation at noon that day. It was rumored that Hirohito had made a recording which would carry his voice to the people and advise them to lay down their arms and obey the will of the Imperial House. Hatanaka had to find that record and destroy it before it was too late. The most important task before him now was to ascertain its hiding place and seize it. Since the record must be somewhere inside the palace grounds, the rebel leader planned to interrogate members of the Imperial Household.
The phonograph disc was indeed just a stone’s throw away from Hatanaka. It had been cut shortly before midnight in the Administration Building in the middle of the palace compound. Hirohito had arrived there at 11:25 P.M. and had been greeted by several officials from NHK broadcasting station. As they watched, the Emperor spoke into a microphone. When he finished his short speech, the recording was played back. Hirohito was dissatisfied with the quality and insisted on making two more. When the final recording was made, he returned to his residence. At 12:05 A.M., the Emperor was in bed.
The record was given to Yoshihiro Tokugawa, the Court Chamberlain, who took it to his own room in the Administration Building and placed it in a wall safe. Then he went out to the switchboard to check for any air-raid warnings in the area. Satisfied that everything was all right, Tokugawa relaxed and entered into a conversation with the broadcasting people who were finishing up their chores before leaving.
At 12:50 A.M. he was informed that the Emperor was asleep. At the same instant a conditional air-raid alert sounded. Tokugawa was not concerned that bombs would fall on Tokyo that night, so he went to his room and fell asleep. By 1:30 A.M. the building was quiet.
Within thirty minutes General Mori died and the rebels went into action. The radio officials, who had finally packed up their equipment and started for home, were stopped at the palace gate. Soldiers shepherded them to a small building near the main entrance where they joined others already scooped up in the dragnet put out by Hatanaka.
By 2:15 A.M., seventeen people were being forcibly held in a small room. Their fate was uncertain.
Across from the palace grounds, in the heart of Tokyo, Colonel Ida was getting nowhere in his fight to win over General Tanaka. When Ida came into the Eastern Army Headquarters, he found that officers there already knew about the coup; Major Koga had called a few minutes before, tearfully begging for support. He had been almost unintelligible as he sobbed out his plea. Now, when Ida repeated the same request for help, he was refused with a flat “Absolutely not.”
Ida was shaken, and his own resolve began to diminish. Officers at Tanaka’s headquarters convinced Ida to try to dissuade the rebels. He agreed and left for the palace. It was 2:45 A.M. The first breach in the rebel ranks had occurred.
By now, the palace grounds were filled with noise and excitement. Because of the air-raid alert, all lights had been shut off, and flashlights stabbed through the blackness as soldiers hurried about in unfamiliar surroundings. Inside the Imperial Household Agency, Chamberlain Tokugawa was rudely awakened by an assistant, who whispered: “The buildings are surrounded by soldiers.” Tokugawa leaped up and ran outside with a flashlight. In the corridor, he came upon a group of servants running downstairs to the “Safe Room,” an air-raid shelter in the basement. He immediately thought of Marquis Kido, a prized target for any plotters against the Government, and gave orders for his assistant to go to the Marquis’ room and bring him down to the underground sanctuary.
Upstairs, Kido had already found out about the coup. Dozing in his study, he had been awakened by an aide who pounded on the door and begged him to go to the resident doctor’s room to hide from approaching soldiers. The almost timid-looking Kido balked at such deception and said he would stay and face the consequences. When the aide insisted, the Marquis finally agreed and went with him. Moments later, he hurried back to his own room, ran to his desk, tore up state papers within reach, and flushed them down the toilet. Then he looked for a way to avoid the rebels.
At this point, Tokugawa’s urgent summons reached him and he went down to the great vault in the basement. He walked into the stifling, airless room shortly after three o’clock and began to pace the floor with other members of the Imperial staff.
Kido was furious at this attempt to upset the surrender but was convinced that it would come to no good. He reasoned that word of surrender had already gone out to the United States, and that the Emperor’s voice would so inform the people tomorrow. The soldiers could not win. Dripping with sweat, the bespectacled Marquis listened as the excited rebels searched for the phonograph record. If they should find him in the cellar, he would die quickly.
Meanwhile, Major Hatanaka had no new information as to the whereabouts of the recording. None of the seventeen men imprisoned near the main gate would say anything about it. As he stood in the woods near the Emperor’s residence, his disillusioned compatriot Colonel Ida approached him out of the darkness. The sad look on his face warned Hatanaka what to expect. Ida spread his hands and blurted out: “I tried to persuade Headquarters but I couldn’t. In fact they were quite cool to me. Hatanaka, withdraw these troops or you’ll have to fight the entire Eastern District Army.”
The rebel eyed him calmly and answered: “I’m not afraid to fight. We have occupied the Imperial Palace and the Emperor is in our custody. Moreover, we have hostages including Shimomura, the Chief of the Cabinet Information Board. We have nothing to worry about.”
Losing his temper, Ida shouted, “Nonsense! It is impossible to run the Guards Division without General Mori and he is dead. So don’t be stupid.” As Hatanaka bridled at this remark, Ida quickly shifted his attack. “Withdraw the troops before dawn and together we’ll take the responsibility for the coup. My dear Hatanaka, tomorrow morning this will all be a dream. People will forgive us and pass it off as midsummer madness.”
Hatanaka bit his lower lip, as he always did when frustrated. His disheveled hair was matted on his sweating brow, his uniform was soaked from exertion in the humid August weather. Ida waite
d for the pale, almost feminine-looking rebel chieftain to answer. Hatanaka finally said, “Go and ask Anami what I should do. I’ll wait for your return.” The two parted in the moonlit forest clearing.
With Ida off seeking Anami, the chief conspirators, Hatanaka, Shiizaki and Koga, met at three thirty to plan their final strategy. The record was not yet in their hands. Koga ordered a soldier to bring in the manager of the broadcasting station. That terrified man told Koga the record was somewhere in the Imperial Household Agency just a short distance away. Immediately the search centered on that building, where Marquis Kido cowered in an underground shelter and wondered what his fate would be.
As flashlights played about the wooded areas of the palace enclave, Hatanaka strove to keep the rebellion going. Ida had left believing that the rebels would surely disband shortly, but Hatanaka had second thoughts. Though time was running out for him, he might just be able to find the record before dawn. With that in his hands, the surrender could be thwarted. Otherwise he had little cause for cheer. Ida no longer was an ally. General Tanaka would not be talked into giving support. No word had come from Anami. Even within the palace walls, dissension was breaking out among regimental commanders who had sided with the conspirators.
One of them, Colonel Haga, had gone along with the plan because Hatanaka assured him that General Anami was coming to the palace to personally persuade Hirohito to reconsider the decision to surrender. When Anami did not appear by three o’clock, Haga became suspicious and confronted the ringleaders. “Where is Anami?”
Hatanaka stalled for time. “I’ll make a call and see if he’s on his way.” After he left, Major Koga walked into the room and Haga continued his questioning. No one had told him of Mori’s death. Koga could not carry on the deception and confessed: “General Mori is dead and we want you to take charge of the Guards Division.”
The World War II Chronicles Page 20