by H. W. Brands
Truman sent congratulations. “The progress the forces under your command have made since we met at Wake continues to be most remarkable, and once again I offer you my hearty congratulations,” he said. “The military operations in Korea under your command will have a most profound influence for peace in the world.”
MacArthur reciprocated with comparable feigned warmth. “I left the Wake Island conference with a distinct sense of satisfaction that the country’s interests had been well served through the better mutual understanding and exchange of views which it afforded,” he replied. “I hope that it will result in building a strong defense against future efforts of those who seek for one reason or another (none of them worthy) to breach the understanding between us.”
In this letter MacArthur reported that victory was nearer than ever. “Operations in Korea are proceeding according to plan, and while as we draw close to the Manchurian border enemy resistance has somewhat stiffened, I do not think this represents a strong defense in depth such as would materially retard the achievement of our border objective.” A week, or two at the most, would see his forces securely established along the Chinese border. The mopping up could be left to the Koreans. “It shall be my purpose, as I outlined during the Wake Island conference, to withdraw American troops as rapidly as possible.”
PART THREE
AN ENTIRELY NEW WAR
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IT MIGHT HAVE been a result of MacArthur’s excessive confidence in his knowledge of the Asian mind; it probably involved some blinding effect of his own brilliance at Inchon; it doubtless reflected his deep hostility toward communism and his accompanying scorn for all the adherents of that ideology; it certainly showed his dismissal of the integrity and capacity of State Department and other administration officials he deemed dangerously leftist; it possibly indicated aspects of advancing age; it indisputably revealed the hubris that tempts all heroes. But whatever the precise admixture of influences, MacArthur missed crucial signals that should have provoked second thoughts about the war’s imminent end.
He wasn’t alone. Nearly everyone else in the American chain of command missed the same signals. No sooner had the Inchon success placed American troops close to the 38th parallel than the Chinese government began to indicate that it would respond if the Americans crossed into North Korea. China and the United States lacked diplomatic relations, so the Chinese relayed their messages through India. In late September the chief of staff of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army told the Indian ambassador to China, K. M. Panikkar, that China’s military would not remain idle if the Americans approached the Yalu River. “They may even drop atom bombs on us,” the staff chief said, according to Panikkar. “What then? They may kill a few million people.” China would fight anyway. “Without sacrifice a nation’s independence cannot be upheld.”
The warning grew louder. On October 1, the one-year anniversary of the establishment of the People’s Republic, Chinese premier and foreign minister Zhou Enlai gave a speech in which he asserted that the Chinese people wanted peace but would take up arms if threatened. “They will not be afraid to fight aggression in defense of peace,” he said. “They will not tolerate foreign aggression and will not stand aside should the imperialists wantonly invade the territory of their neighbor.” Zhou shortly summoned Panikkar to the foreign ministry to elaborate. He said he was talking about the Americans in Korea. If the Americans crossed into North Korea, China would enter the war. As Panikkar related afterward, “He was emphatic: ‘The South Koreans did not matter but American intrusion into North Korea would encounter Chinese resistance.’ ”
American officials read Zhou’s speech, and through the Indian government they learned of the messages given to Panikkar. But they discounted it all as a bluff. Noting that China had been declaring the defense of South Korea illegitimate from the start, one senior but anonymous American diplomat responded to the latest warning with a question: “Why didn’t they get into it then”—at the beginning—“if they were going to? Why would they suddenly consider crossing the 38th parallel an invasion if they labeled the whole South Korean defense an invasion all along?” This source told the New York Times that the warning was “just a continuation of the Red propaganda line.” He thought the Chinese would know better than to get involved in Korea’s troubles. “I don’t think that China wants to be chopped up.”
The CIA weighed the prospects of Chinese intervention and concluded that it wasn’t likely. “The Chinese Communists undoubtedly fear the consequences of war with the U.S.,” the agency asserted in a memo for the president. “Their domestic problems are of such magnitude that the regime’s entire domestic program and economy would be jeopardized by the strains and material damage which would be sustained in war with the U.S. Anti-Communist forces would be encouraged and the regime’s very existence would be endangered.” China, the CIA concluded, would likely confine itself to covert assistance to the North Koreans.
Dean Acheson agreed that the Chinese warnings were a bluff. Referencing simultaneous diplomatic actions by the Soviet Union on North Korea’s behalf, Acheson later explained, “It was obvious that a combined Sino-Soviet effort was being made to save the North Korean regime. Chou’s”—Zhou’s—“words were a warning, not to be disregarded, but, on the other hand, not an authoritative statement of policy.”
Truman said much the same thing. He considered the Indian connection dubious. “Mr. Panikkar had in the past played the game of the Chinese Communists fairly regularly, so that his statement could not be taken as that of an impartial observer,” Truman recounted. “It might very well be no more than a relay of Communist propaganda.” Truman noted that the warning came amid consideration of the General Assembly vote to authorize the invasion of North Korea. “The key vote on the resolution was due the following day, and it appeared quite likely that Chou En-lai’s ‘message’ was a bald attempt to blackmail the United Nations by threats of intervention in Korea.”
All the same, Truman thought it necessary to modify the orders under which MacArthur was operating. On October 8 he approved a message sent by the joint chiefs the following day to the general: “In light of the possible intervention of Chinese Communist forces in North Korea, the following amplification of our directive”—the directive of September 27 authorizing MacArthur to cross the 38th parallel but telling him to refrain from attacking Chinese territory and to keep U.S. troops away from the Chinese border—“is forwarded for your direction: Hereafter in the event of the open or covert employment anywhere in Korea of major Chinese Communist units, without prior announcement, you should continue the action as long as, in your judgment, action by forces now under your control offers a reasonable chance of success. In any case you will obtain authorization from Washington prior to taking any military action against objectives in Chinese territory.”
MacArthur didn’t believe the Chinese would enter the war, as he told Truman emphatically at Wake Island a week later. But the admonitions from the joint chiefs, and the president’s demeanor at the meeting, caused him to think Truman was losing his nerve. “The conference at Wake Island made me realize that a curious, and sinister, change was taking place in Washington,” he wrote afterward. “The defiant, rallying figure that had been Franklin Roosevelt was gone. Instead, there was a tendency toward temporizing rather than fighting it through. The original courageous decision of Harry Truman to boldly meet and defeat Communism in Asia was apparently being chipped away by the constant pounding whispers of timidity and cynicism. The President seemed to be swayed by the blandishments of some of the more selfish politicians of the United Nations. He seemed to be in the anomalous position of openly expressing fears of overcalculated risks that he had fearlessly taken only a few months before.”
Perhaps to preempt the timidity and cynicism, MacArthur unleashed his troops. On October 24, in clear violation of the policy in place since September 27, he issued an order to Johnnie Walker and Ned Almond removing the restraint that had kept them away fro
m the Yalu River. They were, MacArthur said, “to drive forward with all speed and with the full utilization of their force” to secure “all of North Korea.”
Washington at once took notice. “Up to this point, MacArthur had not actually violated or ignored standing orders or suggested policy,” Omar Bradley recalled. “His trip to Formosa and his message to the VFW had been ill-advised and unfortunate, creating needless headaches for the administration. His decision to keep the JCS in the dark about Inchon plans was an act of arrogance. But his October 24 order”—sending U.S. troops to the borders of Korea with China and the Soviet Union—“while not technically insubordinate, came very close.” The technicality was that the stricture on U.S. troops near the border was a “matter of policy” rather than a straightforward order. Nonetheless, MacArthur’s move showed disturbing disregard for the chain of command. “Owing to the extreme delicacy of the issue, the use of non-ROK forces in the Northeast Provinces should have been cleared in Washington.”
Yet Bradley and the chiefs declined to call MacArthur to account. Deferring to the judgment of the commander in the field, they told him they assumed he had reasons for his violation of the September 27 policy. Still, they asked him to specify what those reasons were, as his departure from the agreed-upon approach was “a matter of some concern here.”
MacArthur simply denied that anything had changed. He said that the ROK forces were unable to finish off the enemy on their own. He pointed out that language of the September 27 directive barred non-ROK forces from the border provinces “as a matter of policy” only. He quoted the subsequent assurance from George Marshall that he was to feel “unhampered tactically and strategically” as he crossed the 38th parallel. All the same, he assured the chiefs he had the spirit of the September 27 directive in mind and would not take unnecessary risks. He added, as if to close the matter, “This entire subject was covered in my conference at Wake Island.”
In fact the subject had not been covered at Wake Island. But the chiefs let MacArthur’s misremembering or misrepresentation pass. The aura of Inchon still surrounded him, and total victory appeared at hand. There was nothing to be gained by bickering with the commander on the ground.
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MACARTHUR’S SELF-ASSURANCE HAD never been greater, and it never served him so ill. During the last week of October the Chinese revealed that they had not been bluffing about entering the war. “On 26 October Eighth Army was advancing on a broad front in widely separated columns in pursuit of defeated North Korean forces,” Johnnie Walker reported. The troops were following MacArthur’s orders to advance with all speed to the border and hence were lightly equipped, supplied chiefly by airdrops. “Supplies available were sufficient for bare maintenance of combat operations of one reinforced American division and four ROK divisions with no possibility of accumulating reserves to meet heavier opposition.” That was when they had the shock of their lives. “An ambush and surprise attack by fresh, well-organized and well-trained units, some of which were Chinese Communist forces, began a sequence of events leading to complete collapse and disintegration of ROK II Corps of three divisions.”
The appearance of the Chinese triggered an abrupt shift in the balance of morale, especially among the Korean troops. “Contributing factors were intense psychological fear of Chinese intervention and previous complacency and overconfidence in all ROK ranks,” Walker said. He was doing everything to hold his front together. “By intense effort, progress is being made in reorganization and stabilization of II ROK Corps; however, it is at most only fifty percent effective at present. The 2d US Division has been brought up in a position to take over in the event of collapse by ROK forces.”
The situation grew worse. “Chinese Communist hordes, attacking on horse and on foot to the sound of bugle calls, cut up Americans and South Koreans at Unsan today in an Indian-style massacre that may prove to be the costliest of the Korean war,” the United Press reported on November 3. “Two combat regiments were badly chewed up and hundreds of civilians—men, women and children—who tried to escape along the roads leading from Unsan were killed by enemy machine-gun and mortar fire. The Communists charged in the frosty early morning hours in an attack so vicious it left the surprised and confused Americans no choice but to run. Many did not escape.”
The wire service correspondent interviewed American survivors who testified to the surprise of the assault and the chaos it produced. “I woke up when they started shooting the fellows in the foxholes around me,” a GI from Virginia said. “I couldn’t see anything until a tank came along. I climbed on and fell off three times or was pulled off by others trying to get on. Then the tank burst into flames and we all started running.” An infantryman from North Carolina said, “Someone woke me up and asked if I could hear a bunch of horses on the gallop. I couldn’t hear anything. Then bugles started playing taps, but far away. Someone blew a whistle and our area was shot to hell in a matter of minutes. I’m not too sure how it all happened right now, but I know we lost more of our outfit there than got out.” A corporal from Minnesota explained that he had been awakened by hand grenades. “The lieutenant tried to get us organized, but those Chinese had every man spotted and they killed every man they wanted to.” A lieutenant from Washington state said, “There was no such thing as fighting back. The chances were greatest that you would hit one of your own men rather than the enemy.”
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MACARTHUR PRIDED HIMSELF on not overreacting to bad news. He maintained his composure now, despite this stunning evidence that he had been wrong in dismissing the chance of Chinese intervention. On October 31 he forwarded to Washington without comment a report from Ned Almond describing some Chinese troops captured in X Corps’ sector. “Prisoners averaged 28–30 years of age with approximately 2 year military service,” the report stated. “Prisoners had not eaten in 3 days, but had new cotton quilted uniforms, winter headgear, and greenish canvas shoes with crepe rubber soles.” The prisoners revealed that they had fought with the Chinese Nationalist army before their unit had been absorbed into the Communist People’s Liberation Army. The artillery of their regiment was transported by horses and by the soldiers themselves.
During the next four days MacArthur pondered what the presence of the Chinese troops meant. Finally he shared his musings with the joint chiefs. “Various possibilities exist based upon the battle intelligence coming in from the front,” he cabled on November 4. “First, that the Chinese Communist government proposes to intervene with its full potential military forces, openly proclaiming such course at what it might determine as an appropriate time; second, that it will covertly render military assistance but will, so far as possible, conceal the fact for diplomatic reasons; third, that it is permitting and abetting a flow of more or less voluntary personnel across the border to strengthen and assist the North Korean remnants in their struggle to retain a nominal foothold in Korea; fourth, that such intervention as exists has been in the belief that no UN forces would be committed in the extreme northern reaches of Korea except those of South Korea.”
MacArthur weighed the probabilities of the scenarios he described. “The first contingency would represent a momentous decision of the gravest international importance,” he said. He thought it the least likely. “While it is a distinct possibility, and many foreign experts predict such action, there are many fundamental logical reasons against it, and sufficient evidence has not yet come to hand to warrant its immediate acceptance.” That left the others. “The last three contingencies or a combination thereof seem to be most likely condition at the present moment.” In any event, there should be no rush to judgment. “I recommend against hasty conclusions which might be premature and believe that a final appraisement should await a more complete accumulation of military facts.”
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TRUMAN TOOK HIS cue from MacArthur. If the general wasn’t worried, the president wouldn’t worry either, at least not yet. There were other things to worry about, as Truman discovered personally on Nove
mber 1. The president liked to nap after lunch when his schedule permitted, and he was snoozing in his upstairs bedroom at Blair House when two men armed with automatic weapons began firing on the guards posted at the front of the house. The authorities shortly discovered that they were Puerto Rican nationalists who hoped to kill the president to draw attention to the struggle for Puerto Rican independence. “We came here with the express purpose of shooting the president,” one of the gunmen told police. The guards returned the fire, killing one of the gunmen and wounding the other. Three of the guards were wounded, one fatally.
The gunmen never got inside the house, but several bullets smashed windows and a door. The noise of the shooting drew Truman, clad in his underwear, to the window above the street, from where he looked down on the bloody confusion. A guard saw him and shouted, “Get back! Get back!” As Truman realized what was going on, he took the advice and stepped away from the window.
He dressed and went downstairs. He was scheduled to dedicate a monument at Arlington Cemetery to British field marshal John Dill, who had helped cement the military side of the Anglo-American alliance during World War II. Asked by press secretary Charlie Ross if he intended to keep the appointment, Truman said, “Why certainly.” Ross later told reporters, “I never saw a calmer man in my life.”
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A FEW DAYS LATER Truman, still calm, traveled to Independence to vote. He was in Missouri when he received an alarming call from Dean Acheson in Washington. The secretary of state reported, rather breathlessly, that MacArthur was again stretching his orders. The general had directed his air force to bomb bridges over the Yalu River linking China to North Korea, to interdict Chinese transport and reinforcement, and had done so without informing the joint chiefs or anyone else in Washington. Acheson had learned of the order only because MacArthur’s air commander, George Stratemeyer, had notified his service superior, Hoyt Vandenberg, who relayed the message to Robert Lovett, the undersecretary of defense, who sent word to Acheson.