Second World War, The

by Corrigan, Gordon

  In Japan huge merchant shipping losses and the effective destruction of the Imperial Navy threw the country back on its own resources. Reserve stocks of raw materials that could not be replaced were running out, there was only sufficient vehicle fuel to last until the end of June and just enough aviation fuel, if carefully used, to last until September. There was a shortage of rice, which was expected to be worse with a projected bad harvest in 1945, and salt was in very short supply. There was little industry still operating, but what there was suffered even more from the depredations of the army conscripting its workers and calling up those who were reservists. The introduction of price controls and rationing led to a thriving black market and competition between army, navy and civilian purchasing organizations for the limited stocks of oil, raw materials, and processed steel and rubber that were available. The Allied incendiary bombing had wreaked massive destruction on Japanese cities and rendered hundreds of thousands homeless, a situation exacerbated by the order to demolish yet more houses to create fire breaks through built-up areas. It was obvious that the next phase of the war would be an Allied invasion of the homeland, preceded by heavy aerial bombardment, and in Operation Ketsu-Go the Japanese now reorganized the balance of their forces to deal with it. In December 1944 seven divisions had been moved from Manchuria to Japan, leaving only twelve divisions, eight of which were newly raised and had no combat experience. These were barely enough to mount some sort of defence if the Russians attacked, something which the Japanese worked very hard diplomatically to avoid but suspected might happen anyway. Now every available man was called up and new divisions raised, anti-aircraft guns were brought in from outlying islands and every available aircraft brought to a state of readiness. By the summer of 1945 there were fifty-six infantry and two armoured divisions, in five area armies, ready to defend the homeland, along with 537 fighter and eighteen reconnaissance aircraft and 1,250 anti-aircraft guns. The fighter cover was totally inadequate to defend the whole country and it was intended that the main air effort would be by kamikaze attacks against Allied shipping, with the navy pilots going for warships and their army counterparts concentrating on troopships.

  There had always been a peace party in Japan, politicians, civil servants and officers who knew that Japan could never win a war against the West, but they had perforce to be circumspect for fear of assassination. Now, while still unable openly to recommend making peace, they were able to attempt discreetly to influence the power brokers. In April the Cabinet resigned and the elder statesman Admiral Baron Kantarō Suzuki, untainted by warmongering, became prime minister, an appointment that it was hoped would send a mollifying signal to the Allies. As early as February, Prince Fumimaro Konoe, a former prime minister, had advised the emperor that there was a danger of a communist revolution unless the war ended very soon, and in June and again in July Hirohito instructed his Supreme War Council to take steps to restore peace. The difficulty was how to do it. Approaches were made to Russia, citing the Russo-Japanese neutrality agreement, and were rebuffed; the Swedes would not act as brokers without a formal request from the Japanese government; an attempt through the unlikely medium of Chiang Kai-shek failed; and unofficial soundings indicated that the British, who were thought to be more likely to compromise than the Americans, were not prepared to stray from the Allied policy of unconditional surrender. Unconditional surrender, though, was out of the question: the army would never accept the loss of face and the disgrace, nor any threat to the position of the emperor, and the population would probably follow the army. If some form of compromise could be arrived at, one that allowed the army to retain its honour, did not involve an occupation of the country and preserved the position of the emperor, then the army leaders might be prepared to accept an end to the war and the evacuation of the conquered territories and perhaps China and even Korea as well. Discussions were kept strictly secret from the younger army officers: history showed that they were quite liable to draw swords and slaughter anyone who suggested that the war was lost.

  The Potsdam Declaration of 26 July 1945 effectively killed any chance of the Japanese government and army surrendering under terms that were acceptable to them. Given the imaginative name of Terminal, the conference was the last held by the wartime Allies, the United States being represented by her new president, Truman, and Churchill, defeated in the British general election, being replaced halfway though by Attlee, the new Labour prime minister. The Japanese ambassador in Moscow was instructed to inform his government that the Allies demanded the unconditional surrender of all Japanese forces everywhere; that those who had led Japan into war be removed, with the country occupied until this had been achieved; that all territories acquired by Japan since 1914 be given up, including Chinese territories; that Korea be granted independence; that Japanese sovereignty be restricted to the four main islands; that all servicemen be disarmed and returned to their homes; and that war criminals be brought to justice. The Japanese foreign and prime ministers pointed out to the Cabinet that with such terms attached the demand was not unconditional surrender as the term was usually understood: nothing was said about the position of the emperor and occupation was only to be until those responsible for the war were removed. The emperor thought the terms were acceptable, but the service chiefs were for rejection. It was decided to seek clarification and perhaps some amelioration through Stalin, who, although he had denounced the Neutrality Pact in April, had not signed the Potsdam Declaration. As the declaration had been published all over the world, the Japanese government had to make some response, but it had to be one that would not reject the declaration outright, nor imply favourable consideration, since the latter was not yet acceptable to the army and the navy.

  The Japanese, however, failed to brief their own press properly and, critically, the Japanese words ‘take notice of’ were mistranslated. As a result, the impression was given that the government in Tokyo had rejected the declaration. In his answer to a question at a press conference on 28 July, the prime minister, Suzuki, stated that the government would ignore the declaration and press resolutely on to bring the war to a victorious conclusion. It has been suggested that, had the Allies enquired more closely into the Japanese government’s intentions, peace might have been achieved at this point, but that is to ignore the attitude of the army, and even more so of the senior naval officers, who, even though they now had no navy to speak of, would never accept a surrender that involved disarmament and occupation, and the fact that, as Stalin was intending to declare war on Japan in ten days’ time, there was no chance of his interceding to get better terms.

  Given that Japan intended to hold out come what may, the Allies had a number of options. They could invade, they could blockade or they could use new weapons to bring such destruction that Japan would have no choice but to give in. An invasion was already being planned and the command structure had been reorganized to put all land forces in the Pacific (including the British Fourteenth Army once it had regained Malaya) under MacArthur, and all naval forces under Nimitz, with Lieutenant-General Carl Spaatz, lately the USAAF commander in Europe, supporting with the Strategic and Far East Air Forces. For the first phase, fourteen divisions, including some released from the European theatre, were earmarked to take the southern half of Kyushu. The snag, though, about reducing Japan by invasion was that it might take a very long time, and, as the whole population would resist to the utmost, it could cause very many Allied casualties. Experience in Iwo Jima and Okinawa showed that, even with defeat staring him in the face, the only time a Japanese soldier was beaten was when he was dead, and, while figures still bandied about today of a million Allied casualties to subdue Japan by invasion are almost certainly a gross overestimate, the death toll could easily have been in the region of 100,000. An alternative would have been an air and sea blockade accompanied by air raids, as MacArthur recommended. This would save Allied lives and would slowly strangle what was left of Japan’s economy and starve her population, but this too might take a
long time. Already the Japanese government had instructed its people to gather acorns to be made into foodstuffs, inshore fishing could still continue and, by eating everything that walked, crawled, swam, grew or flew, the population of the home islands could hold out for a very long time, whereas both the Americans and the British wanted a swift end to the war.

  A third option was to use a weapon of such power that Japan could not possibly continue to fight on, for if she did she would face complete and utter destruction, and such a weapon did indeed exist. Since 1941 British scientists had been convinced that a bomb relying on atomic fission could be constructed, but given the need for an area large enough to test it, and the expense of developing it, it had been decided to share the knowledge acquired so far with the Americans and develop the bomb jointly, as the Manhattan Project. Developed and tested in great secrecy, two bombs would be ready by August 1945 and in July both Truman and Churchill, and then Attlee, agreed that they would be used if Japan could not be persuaded to surrender before the date fixed for an invasion of the main islands. And following the Japanese prime minister’s July press conference, it was clear that his government was not about to surrender. So on the morning of 6 August three B-29 bombers approached the southern Honshu city of Hiroshima, one carrying an atomic bomb and two flying as observers. At 0815 hours the bomb was dropped by parachute and detonated as planned above the centre of the city, which had been selected because it housed both military and industrial targets. Of a population of 343,000, 78,000 were killed outright and 51,000 injured, mainly with burns. Many more would die of radiation sickness in the years to come and many women not sterilized by the radiation would give birth to deformed children. Of the 76,000 buildings, 48,000 were destroyed and most of the rest damaged to some extent.

  When the news reached Tokyo later that morning, it was apparent that a weapon of unprecedented destructive power had been used but few details were known. When the Commander-in-Chief Second Area Army, whose headquarters was in Hiroshima, and his chief of staff flew into Tokyo on the morning of the following day, 7 August, they claimed that their headquarters was virtually untouched and that only a few soldiers had been injured: it appeared that the bomb had only damaged those with no protection – anything underground was safe – and that, whatever had been used this time, conventional Allied incendiary bombing had caused greater casualties and more damage. The officers exaggerated: much of their headquarters was above ground, including a military hospital, and that had been obliterated, but they were partly right about incendiary bombing, the effects of which were more widespread, even if they did not cause subsequent deaths from residual radiation, a particularly unpleasant after-effect which was not fully understood at the time. Then, on 8 August, the USSR declared war on Japan, effective from midnight, and 1.5 million Red Army soldiers stormed across the border against the Japanese Kwantung Army in the puppet state of Manchukuo.

  The Japanese Supreme Council met on the morning of 9 August. All were agreed that peace must be made but there were serious differences as to the terms of acceptance. The foreign minister, Togo, urged that the Allied terms be accepted as they stood, while the army representatives insisted that there should be no occupation, the position of the emperor should be guaranteed, and the Japanese Army should disarm itself and be responsible for war crimes trials. They also pointed out that surrender was specifically forbidden under Japanese military law, which prescribed heavy penalties for anyone who did surrender, and it was doubtful whether any such orders from Tokyo would be obeyed. Despite what was undoubtedly a desperate situation, the army could still fight a battle, and a resurgence of patriotic nationalism would meet any attempt at invasion. Japan should hold out for acceptable terms.

  While the council were arguing, a second atomic bomb was dropped, at 1130 hours on 9 August, on Nagasaki on the east coast of Kyushu. As it did not explode over the centre of the city, the damage was not as great as that at Hiroshima, but it was impressive nevertheless, killing 24,000 of the 270,000 inhabitants outright and injuring 43,000. The council met again on the evening of the 9th, before knowledge of the second atomic bomb had reached Tokyo, and again could not reach a conclusion, and neither could the Cabinet. Suzuki, the prime minister, briefed the emperor, who ordered an imperial conference for the next night, that of the 10/11th, by which time the news of Nagasaki had come in. Shortly before midnight, all the arguments were once again rehearsed at this conference. The positions of both the peace and the war parties had hardened, and Suzuki announced that there was now no alternative but to seek a decision from the emperor, who directed that the Potsdam Declaration should be accepted subject only to the imperial house not being deposed. The next morning, the message was sent through the Swiss and Swedish embassies:

  In obedience to the gracious command of His Majesty the Emperor, who, ever anxious to enhance the cause of world peace, desires earnestly to bring about a speedy termination of hostilities with a view to saving mankind from the calamities to be imposed on them by further continuation of the war… the Japanese government are ready to accept the terms enumerated in the joint declaration… with the understanding that the said declaration does not comprise any demand which prejudices the prerogatives of his Majesty as a Sovereign Ruler…

  A masterpiece of weasel-wording, this initiated great debate in Washington, where some felt that the emperor should have no part to play in the future of Japan, while others felt that only the authority of the emperor could ensure obedience to a surrender order. The Allied reply stated that, from the moment of surrender, the authority of the emperor to rule the state would be subject to an Allied Supreme Commander and that he would be required to issue such orders as the Supreme Commander might require, and that the ultimate form of government in Japan would be established in accordance with the freely expressed wishes of the Japanese people.

  The Allied reply was received in Japan on 12 August and again prompted vigorous debate. By now word had got out: posters denouncing the peace party as traitors were appearing on the streets and there were reports of unrest amongst junior army officers. Clearly a decision was urgently needed and this was reinforced by information from the Japanese embassy in Sweden which averred that the Allied reply constituted a narrow diplomatic victory for the Americans over the British, who had been against retaining the emperor. Any more delay and the Americans might change their stance. This was actually a complete and deliberate falsehood instigated by Allied intelligence – the British were in complete agreement with the Allied note – but it did concentrate minds in Tokyo. Meanwhile, Allied aircraft had been dropping leaflets over Tokyo setting out the peace terms and there was now a real danger that if the leaders of the army saw them – and how could they not? – they would institute a coup to isolate the emperor from his evil councillors who were advocating surrender. An imperial conference was called for the morning of 14 August and the emperor was asked once more to decide. He directed that it was time to ‘accept the unacceptable’ and to agree to the Allied terms. As was the protocol, the Cabinet and the Supreme Council now announced their unanimous acceptance of the emperor’s decision. At 2330 hours Tokyo time (1430 hours GMT), the Japanese government sent a telegram to its ambassadors in Sweden and Switzerland accepting the terms of the Potsdam Declaration. Unlike her German ally, Japan had managed to end the war with head of state, government and civil service intact.

  It was one thing for the emperor and his government to agree a surrender, quite another to enforce it. That night army officers who wanted to fight on attempted a coup. Army aircraft dropped leaflets claiming the announcement was a fake, the commander of the Imperial Guards Division stationed next to the Imperial Household ministry was assassinated when he refused to take part in the coup and the prime minister narrowly escaped the same fate by going into hiding, although his house was burned down. The coup narrowly failed and, on the morning of 15 August the army minister, General Korechika Anami, Admiral Onishi, the initiator of the kamikaze campaign, one field mars
hal, four full generals and a host of lieutenant-generals committed ritual suicide. That same day, Japanese radio announced at intervals during the morning that the emperor would speak to the nation at 1200 hours. This had never happened before and at 1200 all traffic stopped and most of the nation listened.

  In his unprecedented address, Hirohito said that, despite the gallantry of the naval and military forces, the diligence of the civil service and the devoted service of the whole nation, the war had not developed to Japan’s advantage and he had decided to accept the terms of the Potsdam Declaration. He asked his people to accept his decision loyally and to work to enhance the glory of the imperial state. There was no mention of unconditional surrender. An imperial rescript or proclamation was issued reinforcing the emperor’s words. Despite some residual resistance, including the dropping by naval aircraft of leaflets denying that the rescript was genuine, most people in Japan obeyed, and, to ensure obedience by garrisons abroad, a message was sent to all overseas commands stating that Japanese soldiers and sailors taken into the hands of the Allies would not be considered as prisoners of war, thus there was no need for them to kill themselves. At the same time, the three imperial princes were sent by air to Saigon in French Indo-China, Nanking and Peking in China, Manchuria, Singapore and Korea to confirm the emperor’s wishes. All over the Far East, the Japanese Army burned its regimental colours – they were not going to be exhibited in American and British museums as trophies of war.* Despite some mutterings from the Russians, who had launched a lightning invasion of Manchuria, cut off forty Japanese divisions, penetrated into the north of Korea and stood poised to take the Kuriles and the Sakhalin peninsula before fighting on this front came to an end on 23 August, General MacArthur was nominated as Supreme Commander in Japan, but the Japanese government asked for a delay in the arrival of occupation forces until it could ensure that there would be no ‘unfortunate incidents’ – by which it meant that it would lock up potential assassins and disable all serviceable aircraft, thereby foiling the threats of unreconstructed officers who insisted that they would carry out kamikaze attacks on the Allied fleet as it steamed into Tokyo Bay.