December 1941

by Craig Shirley

  In Washington, the State Department was also asking Americans to forgo serving on any “free movement” committees “or groups representing foreign countries whose activities are contrary to American policies.”47 Loosely translated, the government did not want Americans to get caught up in ethnic politics but instead pledge “100 percent unity” to America. The State Department went even further, saying “the government does not look with favor on any activities designed to divide the allegiance of any group of American residents between the United States and any foreign government in existence or in prospect.”48

  The government agencies also asked Americans to “rat out” their fellow citizens. “The Department of State is glad to be informed of the plans and proposed activities of . . . organizations representing such movements.” The government was not going to tolerate any “split loyalty.”49 As if to buttress its point, the FBI in Los Angeles arrested Robert Noble, a “self-styled admirer of Hitler” and charged him with “making seditious and disloyal utterances in wartime. If convicted, Noble could go to jail for up to twenty years.”50 In Boston, a “radio transmitting set” and the owner, an “alien,” were seized. In the Italian section of Beantown—the North End, once home to the likes of Paul Revere—a cache of “twenty shotguns and rifles and fifteen revolvers” was also taken by G-men, and the owner, an “Italian alien,” was arrested. Those taken into custody could not meet with journalists, photographers, or “the general public.”51

  More and more, Washington, D. C., was becoming an armed camp, a city expecting to be under siege at any second. Atop the Commerce Department, citizens could plainly see machine-gun nests, and within days, the nests were atop all federal buildings. More “dry run” blackouts were planned for the town, and it was proposed that the front and back bumpers on all cars be painted white, along with white lines on roads and sidewalks, so as to guide pedestrians and drivers to air-raid shelters.52

  The commander of the Coast Guard, Admiral Richard R. Waesche, warned Congress of the likelihood of disruption. “Enemy agents may start an epidemic of fires and explosions in vital defense centers at any time.” The concern was of sabotage, the kind that had taken place during the last war.53 It was clear that this war was a new kind of war, one that would require new approaches. The War Department organized a “Battle Room” in the White House, complete with “telephones and other modern instruments of communication. . . . Army and Navy officers plotted movements on maps. . . . [It was] a unique communications center across the hall from [the president’s] office at the White House.” During the Spanish-American War, President McKinley had a war room, but it contained only maps.54 With its communications tools, FDR’s became a real nerve center. All this would cost a lot of money, and Congress passed a new appropriations bill totaling $10 billion. But this was only the beginning. General Motors had already begun retooling its operations under Lend-Lease and a $720 million contract from Washington to churn out machine guns, diesel engines for tanks, and “Allison” engines for aircraft.55

  Some worried about FDR’s expanded new powers, especially those over radio properties by government officials, and then it was subsequently announced by the Federal Communication Commission “that the Army and Navy would take over some facilities and close others. It was officially denied that this was censorship.” The head of the FCC, James Branch Fly, got a bit testy and said “It does not mean any general taking over of radio is contemplated. . . .” The industry fell right into line, raising nary an objection. “On the heels of this action Neville Miller, president of the National Association of Broadcasters, urged all broadcasting stations to ‘exercise unusually careful editorial judgment in selecting news.’”56 The edict did not apply to newspapers though, and their independence was reasserted in a decision by the Supreme Court that upheld their right to criticize and comment on government.

  Unlike most other papers, the Washington Post—which had generally been supportive of FDR—came out four square against government censorship. “The people . . . are adult . . . they are entitled to know what is going on. This newspaper . . . hopes that the President will entrust the information job to men who are wise and technically proficient rather than to officers who are neither.”57

  On the West Coast, a lower court had ruled that the Los Angeles Times could not comment on the proceedings of a trial there, but the upper court overruled it. It was a significant decision for a free press.58 Even so, editorialists routinely applauded the government’s new abilities. Said the Birmingham News, “We shall have to live, perhaps not literally but surely in spirit, as if we were under martial law—subordinating absolutely everything, as far as possible voluntarily, to the gigantic effort we must make in order to survive. The soft talkative days are gone, and the hardest days we have ever known since Valley Forge have begun.”59

  Indeed, just a few days later, the War Department rolled out new proposals “for prompt suspension of radio broadcasting operations when enemy air raids are threatened anywhere in Continental United States.” It was put into effect immediately. “The orders apply to standard broadcast, high frequency, television and relay broadcast stations.” Stations were even given scripts to read before going off the air. “At this time, ladies and gentlemen, radio station _____ is temporarily leaving the air in conformity with the national defense program. Keep your radio on so that upon resumption of our service we may bring you the latest information.”60

  Everywhere the word “sacrifice” was on everybody’s lips. In Alabama, the “Add a Plate Club” was started to encourage families to invited enlisted men to dinner. The club hoped the goodwill would spread across the country.61 And it did, for the most part—except in Paterson and Jersey City, New Jersey, where five men who operated a fraudulent charity for kids that took in over $290,000 and gave out a little more than $2,000 for “Crippled Kiddies” were sentenced to long prison stretches and heavy fines. But in New York City, the offices of the Civilian Defense Volunteer Committee were “flooded” with volunteers, up to 100 per hour.62

  Others worried about a new kerfuffle involving Eleanor Roosevelt, when she somewhat facetiously advised that young American women learn how to drink so they could better adopt male roles on the home front. Temperance groups were not enamored of the advice of Mrs. Roosevelt, whose stance in this regard was ironic because she often frowned on her husband’s favorite vice, cocktails promptly at 5:00 p.m., a cherished habit that the president referred to as “fivesies.”63 FDR, in need of temporarily forgetting the enormous burdens on his shoulders, would ebulliently mix drinks in the Oval Office and delight in swapping gossip with his staff. The puritanical Sara Delano Roosevelt, mother of the President, was known to have once remarked: “Franklin, haven’t you had enough of your cocktails?”64

  If power added to FDR’s cares, it didn’t stop him from accumulating it. He had switched roles, as the press described it, from “Doctor New Deal” to “Doctor Win the War.” The United States was not the only representative form of government to have voluntarily given up power to the chief executive. Both Australia and Great Britain had done much the same, and the contradiction was lost on everyone. The Allies, to combat the dictatorial, militaristic regimes of the Axis Powers, had resorted to more authoritarian forms of government. A bill was offered in Congress to further expand the president’s powers, including the ability to “redistribute the functions of the various government agencies” and also the ability to award no-bid contracts. But, “the most important [proposal] would allow censorship of communications by mail, cable or radio transmitted to any foreign country.”65

  Absent from Washington for several days had been Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox. He’d failed to respond to congressional inquiries (until they had been squashed) and did not appear in any news stories. He had been absent from the all-important meeting at the White House the day before, sending the “acting” Navy Secretary. It was then learned that Knox had covertly shown up in Hawaii to conduct his own investigation of what happened
and to prepare a briefing and report for President Roosevelt. The navy chief had arrived in Hawaii the evening of the eleventh.66

  By December 12, nearly all of the Pan-American countries had fallen into line behind the United States. From Argentina to Guatemala, most declared war on Japan, Germany, and Italy. This was important because it negated the chance of a power, friendly to the Axis, establishing military bases and harbors from which they could wage a harassing and easier war against the United States.

  The war bureaucracy in Washington was growing exponentially. Congress, under its own assault of phone calls and visits and letters from worried constituents, voted an appropriation that would allow each senator to have an aide at the princely sum of $4,500 per annum.67

  The war bureaucracy was also expanding its rule over the private sector. Previously, Washington had directed Detroit to cut production of new cars by 25 percent in December and by 50 percent in January 1942 because of the steel and rubber shortages. Buick had already begun its ad campaign in the Saturday Evening Post and other publications touting its new “automatic drive” under the slogan, “Better Buy Buick.”68

  Now the Office of Production Management (OPM)—another New Deal holdover—ordered Motor City to halt the production of new cars altogether by some plants. It stated that “a changeover to defense production would be accomplished as rapidly as possible after Government orders are received.” General Motors was hit hard, and Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, Fleetwood, and Fisher body plants were shut down immediately. Chrysler also had to shut down its De Soto, Dodge, and Plymouth plants.69 Indeed, war planners actively considered halting the production of all new cars by February of 1942.70

  Ironically, as the government was ordering Ford, General Motors, and Chrysler to gin up seven-day-a-week production schedules to turn out war materiel, all the companies were engaged in immediate and massive layoffs of skilled car makers and assembly-line workers. Shortly, International Harvester and Bell Aircraft, along with dozens of other manufacturers, would go on seven day production schedules.71 At the top of the list as ordered by OPM were antiaircraft weapons. All through the years of the New Deal, officials of the OPM had used phrases like “oversupply” when referring to labor in America. No longer. Now the military had first dibs on all healthy young American males.

  In a press conference on the twelfth, just five days after the attack, FDR had asked American newspapers not to publish the casualty lists from the Pacific anymore. He clarified his request by saying “that it might be permissible for individual papers to print individual stories that a person had been notified that a relative was a casualty.” The Evening Star in Washington also reported, “The next of kin and dependents of naval casualties are being notified and are being asked not to divulge the name of ship or station to which the relative was attacked.”72 But Roosevelt’s request was too late to stop the publication of the newest casualties in Hawaii announced by the army, losses that totaled 155 dead: 146 enlisted men and 9 officers. Wounded men were not announced, but the army made clear that many of these would not survive.73

  At his meeting with reporters at the White House, the president went out of his way to single out Senator Charles Tobey for harsh criticism. Tobey had been on the warpath, engaged in a blame game of the military, especially of Admiral Kimmel. “President Roosevelt today joined in a bitter denunciation of uninformed criticism of the conduct of the Pacific fleet. ‘He repeated somebody’s gossip, he made it as a statement of fact which he had no right to do whatsoever,’ the Chief Executive said.”74

  He also told the gathering that he thought, for the time being, the forty-hour-work-week would be sufficient. This was part of the deal the government had worked out with labor. In exchange for this from the government, labor would put a stop to all strikes during the emergency.75

  Kimmel now issued his first public utterances since the attack on Pearl Harbor the previous Sunday, but rather than point fingers or attempt to explain what happened, he instead commended “the men of the Navy, Marine Corps and Army. We Americans can receive hard blows but we can deliver harder ones. In these days when we face the task that lies ahead with calm determination and unflinching resolve it is truly great to be an American. Instances of valor were so great in number that they are too many to enumerate. The same sort of selfless courage was displayed then that will win the war.”76

  The panic of the prior day over dynamite found on a train trestle in Miami was cleared up. As reported by the Associated Press, “A 38-year-old colored man confessed yesterday, the FBI announced, that he set a charge of dynamite on a Florida East Coast Railway trestle, then reported it to the police in the hope he would become a hero and receive a reward.” Stokes McCreary was charged with the violation of the “anti-sabotage statute.”77

  Newspaper articles of the era routinely identified the race of African Americans as either “colored” or “negro” in reporting exploits both good and bad. Whites were never identified as white, and the papers almost never covered Hispanics. It wasn’t just the newspapers that were segregated. So too was Washington, essentially a Jim Crow town. “Blacks looked out on city that was rigidly and thoroughly segregated. Throughout the city, [the] hotels, restaurants, movie theaters, libraries and taxicabs refused to serve blacks.”78

  The war and the military had swiftly become a deeply and tightly woven stitch in the American cultural fabric. There was virtually no place anyone could turn now and not be reminded of the war; even children, even on Santa’s lap. In Atlanta, a department-store Santa Claus was entertaining kids, listening to their Christmas wishes, playing his role to perfection, when his mood suddenly changed, becoming somber and stoic. Stepping out of character, he began to read to the children a letter from one of his three sons, all of whom were in uniform.

  “Dearest Dad,

  There is a war on and I am now in it, but that must not be a cause for you to worry. Of course, there is danger and there will be more danger to come but if I am to die a soldier’s death, so be it. . . . You must think of me as doing my duty to God and country. Be brave and show outward pride, that the mite of humanity you helped bring into the world is now a soldier doing his part of defending our great and wonderful country. . . . You must pray, not only for me and others in the Army, but for the innocent women and children who will have to endure untold suffering from this fight for freedom of religion, speech and democracy. I am not afraid to die for this. . . .

  Until then I remain and always,

  Your Loving Son.”79

  The letter was not unique. Hundreds of thousands of mailboxes were filled each day with letters to and from G.I.’s, and within a matter of months, millions of mailboxes would be filled with long missives from sons and daughters in uniform in the far-flung regions of the globe. Uniformly, the letters were tender, funny, inquisitive, brave, confident, patriotic, self-deprecating, and well-written.

  Public education in America in 1941 was the best in the world, and dedicated teachers led by rote, by repetition, and by discipline mixed with a healthy dose of tenderness and the knowledge that the hand that rocked the cradle truly ruled the world. A high-school diploma was a hard-earned document and those young Americans who received a diploma had language skills, writing skills, citizenship skills, geology, biology, physics, Latin, Greek, and an expansive list of books read. According to 1940 census only 24.5 percent of young Americans received a high-school diploma in 1941,80 and less than 5 percent completed four years of college.81 All in all, well-educated, even erudite and mannerly, young men and women came out of high school, ready to go out into the real world and contribute to society.

  America in 1941 was a do-it-yourself enterprise, despite the welfare state created by the New Deal. People still looked to themselves to solve their own problems. Many schools still used the McGuffey Readers, which had worked so well for their parents and grandparents, to help young students expand their vocabularies. The “Palmer Method” of cursive writing was taught, over and over and over, and penman
ship across the culture was generally excellent. Men and women took pride in their cursive script and their ability to write numerous letters each day. Because the rule was, if you got a letter, you had to send a letter. At three cents for a first-class stamp, letters were frankly practical as well. Long-distance phone calls were hugely expensive, car travel was for sensible reasons such as going to work, and flying on planes was for businessmen and G.I.’s, but not for the average citizen’s pleasure. Taking a train or a bus trip was a big deal, and people dressed accordingly.

  Letters were the standard form of personal communication for private citizens and government officials alike. The worst to receive, of course, was the telegram from Uncle Sam. “We regret to inform you that your son. . . .”

  CHAPTER 13

  THE THIRTEENTH OF DECEMBER

  Saboteurs Light Flares in Blackout at Manila; Sentries ‘Shoot to Kill’

  Atlanta Constitution

  4000 Japs Drown

  Boston Evening Globe

  Weather Bureau Halts Forecasts

  Los Angeles Times

  House Gets Bill to Register All Men 18 to 64

  New York Times

  Amid all the bad news in America emerged a small bit of comic relief. In San Francisco, the Japanese proprietors of dry cleaning establishments were apprehended, and all of their assets, financial and otherwise, were confiscated or frozen by government officials—including the clothing of their customers, who, predictably, got hot under the collar. “The United States attorney’s office, besieged with irate demands for a ruling, said Washington would probably issue an order allowing persons to submit affidavits declaring that their pants—and coats and vests—were not Japanese assets.”1

  Clothing and closets were on the mind of other government pen pushers, especially the nosy officials of the Census Bureau. Originally mandated by the Constitution to count the population once every ten years as a means of apportioning congressional representation, bureaucrats had expanded the mission over the years into something considerably more intrusive: to gain demographic data on the American people. Incredibly, government poll takers in the 1940 census asked American men and women how many individual articles of clothing they owned and how many they purchased each year. “Census Bureau officials declare they have found the explanation for cluttered clothing closets in the American home; people just buy more than they need.” Apparently the government thought that women who annually purchased: “Four dresses; 16 pairs of stockings; 4 pairs of shoes; 2 hats; one pair of gloves; 1 blouse; 1 apron or smock; 7 lingerie items; 1 sleeping garment” were buying too much.2 The breakdown of men’s clothing purchases was just as conservative as the women’s, but they too got a lecture from meddlesome Census officials.