Authors: Robert Conroy
Tags: #World War; 1939-1945 - United States, #Alternative histories (Fiction), #World War; 1939-1945, #General, #United States, #Historical, #War & Military, #World War; 1939-1945 - Japan, #Japan, #Fiction
"General," snapped Truman, "I really don't care how eccentric MacArthur is, or even if his ego is bigger than mine, just so long as he wins and wins quickly. Unfortunately, this scrap of paper doesn't tell me a damned thing. What is going on in Japan? Are we indeed pushing inland, and what are the costs?"
Marshall grimaced. "The landings are a little more than two days old and there is still an enormous amount of confusion. I can, however, tell you what we do know. At all three main landing sites, some penetrations have been made in the Japanese defenses for distances up to two miles. In other cases we are still stuck near the shore and the Japs are defending their positions furiously. It is going about as we figured. We do not have a beachhead in any depth, and we have not yet established a continuous front from which we can break out from the beachhead. At best that will take several more days."
"Casualties?" Truman asked softly.
"These are not firm figures," Marshall responded, "but we suffered between twenty-five and thirty thousand on the first day with between seven and eight thousand on the second. The first day of an attack such as this is always the worst. If history is our guide, about a third of the casualties will be dead or dying."
Truman moaned softly and looked toward the ceiling. In two days the United States had lost the equivalent of more than two divisions, almost an entire corps. No wonder putting the reserve forces in as soon as possible was urgent. The number of dead and wounded was far in excess of those suffered during the landings at Normandy in June 1944. But then, as he'd been reminded so often, the attacks on Kyushu were much greater in scope.
"MacArthur said the Japs would break," Truman said softly. "Has that happened?"
Marshall shook his head, while Bradley gazed in silence at a map on the wall. "No, sir, and in all fairness to General MacArthur, it is far too early to expect that to happen. There are some signs that the resistance will not be as fanatic as it has been in the past. In a few instances there have been withdrawals, and a small number of Japanese soldiers have actually surrendered. Only a couple of hundred so far, but it's a trickle that might someday become a flood. We think it's attributable to both the war-weariness of the rank and file, as well as to the poor quality of training that the newer conscripts have been getting."
"Lord, I hope so."
"Mr. President," Leahy injected, "are you aware that General MacArthur commands from the heavy cruiser
Augusta
, and that he is off Kyushu?"
Truman smiled tightly. "Yes, Admiral King informed me that the old warhorse had essentially commandeered the cruiser. King wasn't surprised and I agreed with him that there was no reason to deny Mac his ship. We certainly have enough of them. There was no way that MacArthur felt he could fight this battle from the safety of Manila, or even Guam." To their surprise, Truman chuckled. "And I can even see why he insisted on the
Augusta
. After all, it was the ship both FDR and I sailed on when we went to Europe. Hell, if it was good enough for two presidents of the United States, then it might just be okay for General Douglas MacArthur and his friends."
Both generals and Admiral Leahy smiled at the additional reference to MacArthur's monumental ego.
"Like I said," Truman added, "I really don't care how strange he acts and what he needs for his personal comforts just so long as he wins." He turned to Leahy. "Now, did you get anything from Admiral King regarding suicide attacks?"
Leahy would rather that King have delivered the information himself, but the other admiral was now trying to find additional transport shipping to send to the Pacific and had asked Leahy to carry the news. King's absence pointed out the desperate situation the navy was in.
"Mr. President," Leahy began, "over fifty ships have been hit by various types of suicide attacks, which include airplanes, small boats armed with torpedoes and dynamite, suicide midget submarines, manned torpedoes launched from rails that run to the water, and just about anything else they can think of to throw at us. Two of our larger carriers, the
Ticonderoga
and the brand-new
Tarawa
, have been badly damaged and have been pulled out of the battle. They may have to return to the U.S. to be repaired. One escort carrier has been sunk, and five others so badly mauled they are no longer serviceable."
"In just two days?" Truman gasped.
"Yes, sir. The rest of the damage was done almost entirely to our transports. As we feared, the Japs are concentrating on the carriers and the transports, and virtually ignoring the other ships. One troopship was hit by a suicide plane and badly damaged while it still had all its troops on board. There were more than five hundred casualties in that one incident alone, with many dead."
"Awful," Truman said, "just awful. Admiral, why didn't radar pick up the plane?"
"Sir, radar is good but far from perfect. Not all of our ships even have it, and it breaks down a lot. Then, with all the planes that are in the air at all times, the operators get fatigued and overwhelmed with information that can't be deciphered fast enough. With all that going on, they can't determine who is friend and who is foe. Last, the very way radar beams out in its searches leaves gaps. Low-flying planes will often get through and must be spotted visually."
Truman nodded bitterly. Yet another military marvel was proving itself to be astonishingly fallible. "If we've lost so many, how about the Japs?"
Marshall spoke. "We are confident that the preinvasion bombing and shelling killed or wounded large numbers. While the day of invasion, X-Day, probably cost us more than them, the Japs are paying for it now and will continue to do so in the long run."
Truman nodded. "And how long can the Japs keep it up?"
Marshall looked to see if Leahy wanted to add anything. The admiral did not. "Probably for quite some time. They appear to have more troops on Kyushu than we thought they did, and they continue to be able to feed more into the battle. They are coming across the mountains of central Kyushu in numerous but widely dispersed small groups that are virtually impossible to see by air, much less hit. There are a score of these rough trails and almost twenty thousand men a day can make it overland from northern Kyushu to the battle area."
"And," Leahy injected, "we are dead certain they are still able to bring reinforcements from both Korea and the main island of Honshu. They are using submarines as transports from Korea, and our intelligence estimates say they can bring over about two thousand men each day that way. During bad weather, which is getting more and more frequent as winter gets closer, they are attempting surface runs with troopships.
"Additionally, the straits between Honshu and Kyushu are only a mile wide at their narrowest, which means small boats can swarm across at night, take casualties from mines and planes, and still land a lot of men. During bad weather they are virtually unstoppable because they can't be seen."
"What about using our surface ships?" Truman asked.
"Sir," Leahy said, "using surface ships in the waters north of Kyushu or in the straits makes them terribly vulnerable to attacks by kamikazes. We have some of our own subs looking in the area, but bad weather hinders them as well."
"Mr. President," Marshall added, "through radio intercepts and our source on the ground, we've identified a number of divisions now on Kyushu as those that had been manning the defenses outside Tokyo. This supports our contention that the war will be won or lost for the Japanese on Kyushu. This is consistent with their doctrine of fighting the one Decisive Battle that will give them victory. But there is something very disturbing going on."
Truman looked at Marshall. The whole thing was disturbing. What else could be going wrong? "And?"
"Sir, it looks like some of the Japanese units coming across from Korea are passing through Russian defense lines to get there."
Truman sat bolt upright. "What?"
Marshall walked to a map of China and Korea . "When the Reds came in, in August, they launched a two-pronged attack. One quickly headed south into Korea, where it has stalled around the city of Seoul . This was no surprise to us. Northern Korea is really just an extension of Siberia. In a short while the weather will turn miserable and everything will freeze. The Russians will soon have a devil of a time keeping their very large army supplied and fueled over the totally inadequate Trans-Siberian Railway.
"The second prong headed south through Manchuria and into China to help Chiang and Mao Tse-tung fight the Japs there. Chiang has been complaining that the Russians are helping Mao fight the Chinese Nationalists rather than the Japs, but we've all felt it was Chiang exaggerating again."
To some, Chiang was highly unloved and considered capable of many duplicities to get additional American material help, which would then be stolen or used to fight the Communists and not the Japanese. It stood to reason that the Russian Communists would be far more helpful to the Chinese Communists than they would to the Nationalists, who were foes of the Communists.
"Go on," said Truman.
"Sir, it may just be the vastness of China and Manchuria that is permitting bypassed Japanese units to filter through the Russian armies, but I believe it is something that should be watched carefully."
Truman said it would be, rose, and dismissed the meeting. Leahy left separately, while Marshall and Bradley drove off together. As their staff car headed down Constitution Avenue in the direction of Arlington, the two generals rode in silence. Finally, Bradley broke the spell.
"General Marshall, why did you have me attend that meeting?"
Marshall turned away and did not answer.
Bradley persisted, "General, you are never a man to waste time, either yours or anyone else's. While it was most interesting, it has nothing whatsoever to do with my new duties at the Veterans Administration. Therefore, what was the reason?"
Marshall 's face was grim. "General Bradley, what did you think of that fella MacArthur's announcement? Did he state a case for his normally overwhelming sense of moral superiority that would end in total and unequivocal victory for him and for us?"
Bradley thought back over the precise words Mac had used. He hadn't tried to memorize the message, but he felt he recalled the sense of the short document.
"No," Bradley responded quietly, "it was less than his usual splendid rhetoric, and there were some big ifs implied in it. If I recall correctly, the gist of it was that he prayed for victory, but did not guarantee it."
"Exactly. General MacArthur started out this summer by saying the invasion of Kyushu would be a cakewalk, and that the Japs would run and quit. Now he's saying we should win, but we just might not. He's finally admitting there are a lot more Japs on Kyushu than anyone dared admit to him, and that the situation could be quite grave. Tell me, General Bradley, what's the largest army Mac's ever commanded?"
The question puzzled Bradley. "Maybe half a million in the Philippines last year. No, the Philippine campaign was smaller than that. Maybe three hundred thousand."
"Yes, and now he has more than twice that. And don't forget he's sixty-five years old, the same age as I am. It's the time where most people are thinking of retirement, not commanding vast armies in major campaigns. God knows I wonder if I could do what he is trying to do."
Marshall grimaced in distaste. "Also, he thinks both Ike and I hate him because of the things he's said about us earlier in our careers. As a result, he thinks I left him and his army out to dry in Bataan in 1942. I am more and more convinced that MacArthur thinks everyone in Washington and the Pentagon is out to get him. I can't prove it, but I wonder if the man's paranoid."
"I'm curious," Bradley said. "I know he referred to Ike as the best clerk he'd ever had, but what about you?"
Marshall chuckled briefly. "He said I'd never rise to anything higher than a regimental command. Now, of course, I've got five stars like he does, and he's under my command. Therefore, he thinks I'm out to humiliate him in a quest for revenge."
Bradley smiled. He'd heard the story before, but only through the rumor mill. "That makes him a lousy judge of character, but do you really think he thinks you're out for him?"
Marshall nodded grimly. "Yes, and from 1942 on."
Bradley whistled tunelessly. "And for that reason you think he thinks you've set him up to fail? You're making it sound like we've indeed got an aging paranoid who's in over his head and commanding the American army that just invaded Japan."
Marshall nodded. Bradley sank back in his seat. "Good grief, General, but just where do I come in?"
Marshall looked at him grimly. "General Bradley, I want you to do only the minimum necessary work at the VA. For the next couple of weeks, I want you to learn as much as you can about Operations Downfall and Olympic. The implications are obvious. If MacArthur falters or collapses from the strain, and I feel both are very possible, we'll need someone to step in and take over."
Gen. Omar Bradley looked out the window at the passing Washington scene. They had crossed the Arlington Bridge and were headed toward the Pentagon. Bradley felt as if a tremendous weight had landed on his shoulders and then slid down to the pit of his stomach. He had wanted to be rid of the Veterans Administration assignment and now it seemed he might be relieved of it. But what on earth might he get in return?
The angry bark of a rifle sent scores of soldiers sprawling on the ground. "Sniper!" someone yelled, and a fusillade of bullets, this time from American guns, filled the air. There was silence and then someone screamed for a medic.
Lt. Paul Morrell raised himself to his hands and knees and tried to see what had happened. They had been climbing a heavily shrubbed but not particularly steep hill near Miyazaki in Kyushu, and the men had been moving out in skirmish formation when the shot had been fired.