Retribution_ The Battle For Japan, 1944-45 Part 19

The Russians learned the hard way the importance of protecting their rear echelons. A medical company of 3rd Rifle Division was bivouacked on the night of 14 August when a kamikaze force stormed its positions. The weary Russians were asleep. j.a.panese were already dragging doctors and nurses out of a vehicle when the alarm was given. After a brief firefight the enemy retreated, taking with them three nurses. Their mutilated bodies, hacked to pieces, were found nearby. This episode, declared an angry Soviet report, was due to "criminal carelessness900" by the officers responsible for ensuring their unit's security. A platoon of sub-machine gunners was detailed to provide protection for the medical team.

A key reality of the Manchurian campaign was that the defenders possessed no means of shifting forces in the face of total Russian air superiority and their own lack of vehicles. They were also critically short of anti-tank guns. Yet where the Russians were obliged to attack painstakingly constructed defensive positions, the j.a.panese resisted stubbornly and inflicted substantial losses. In the east, at the heavily fortified road junction of Mudanjiang, two j.a.panese divisions fought for two days against 1st Far Eastern Front. A j.a.panese soldier described the action there on 15 August:

As soon as our anti-tank guns901 had been silenced, about thirty enemy tanks appeared in front of 278th Regiment's main positions. They opened fire, inflicting heavy casualties, picking off the defenders one by one and destroying our heavy weapons...At about 1600 hours the regiment's telephone link with divisional headquarters was cut. Four enemy tanks were destroyed and five damaged. Soon afterwards, fifteen more tanks appeared in front of the division command post. A squad of five men from the Transport Unit, each armed with a 15-kilogram charge, launched a suicide attack on the leading elements, each man destroying one tank. On seeing this, the rest of the enemy armour hastily made off towards Sudaoling, and their accompanying infantry were also routed. had been silenced, about thirty enemy tanks appeared in front of 278th Regiment's main positions. They opened fire, inflicting heavy casualties, picking off the defenders one by one and destroying our heavy weapons...At about 1600 hours the regiment's telephone link with divisional headquarters was cut. Four enemy tanks were destroyed and five damaged. Soon afterwards, fifteen more tanks appeared in front of the division command post. A squad of five men from the Transport Unit, each armed with a 15-kilogram charge, launched a suicide attack on the leading elements, each man destroying one tank. On seeing this, the rest of the enemy armour hastily made off towards Sudaoling, and their accompanying infantry were also routed.

The respite persuaded the j.a.panese divisional staff to abandon plans for a final "banzai" charge. They maintained a conventional defence for a time, hampered by the fact that their phone lines were cut and radios almost non-existent. On 16 August, a certain Major Ueda of the 278th Regiment arrived at headquarters before dawn to report that the rest of the division had withdrawn. His commanding officer, Colonel Hajma Yamanaka, said simply: "I shall die here902. I shall not withdraw in the absence of an explicit order." A few hours later, an overwhelming Russian tank and infantry force attacked their positions. At noon, Colonel Yamanaka respectfully bowed to the east, burned the regimental colour, rallied his survivors and led a counter-attack. When this failed, he and Major Ueda committed hara-kiri hara-kiri. j.a.panese accounts a.s.serted that the capture of Mudanjiang cost them 4,000 dead, while the Soviets claimed 40,000. The truth is probably somewhere in between. The Red Army reckoned that this one battle accounted for half its total losses in Manchuria, including scores of tanks.

The city was cleared only on the evening of 16 August. Many j.a.panese never learned that they had been ordered to withdraw, and fought to the death. Over-ambitious Soviet spearheads, racing ahead, suffered severely from local counterattacks, but by 20 August they had reached Harbin. Organised resistance in North Korea, overrun by 1st Far Eastern Front, ended on 16 August. Some j.a.panese units, however, continued fighting for a further ten days. The Russians were grudgingly impressed by the fashion in which enemy strongpoints refused quarter, and had to be reduced by piecemeal bombardment and infantry attack. In the words of David Glantz, foremost Western historian of the campaign: "The defending troops in the j.a.panese fortified regions903 put up a tenacious, brave yet meaningless defense...Garrisons fought to the point of exhaustion or extermination." put up a tenacious, brave yet meaningless defense...Garrisons fought to the point of exhaustion or extermination."

BOTH WITHIN and without Manchuria, the Chinese received news of Stalin's onslaught with mixed feelings. In the first days, local people greeted the Russian armies enthusiastically. Victor Kosopalov's unit was delighted to be met in each village by peasants proffering buckets of springwater: "It was so hot and without Manchuria, the Chinese received news of Stalin's onslaught with mixed feelings. In the first days, local people greeted the Russian armies enthusiastically. Victor Kosopalov's unit was delighted to be met in each village by peasants proffering buckets of springwater: "It was so hot904 and we were so thirsty-this was the most welcome delicacy they could have given us." Russian soldiers contemplating a flooded torrent were amazed when Chinese on the far bank leapt into the river and swam across to meet their liberators, carrying ropes to facilitate a crossing. Thousands of others went to work alongside Soviet sappers, repairing dams blown by the j.a.panese. Peasants gave warnings of ambushes. "When we entered the city of Vanemiao and we were so thirsty-this was the most welcome delicacy they could have given us." Russian soldiers contemplating a flooded torrent were amazed when Chinese on the far bank leapt into the river and swam across to meet their liberators, carrying ropes to facilitate a crossing. Thousands of others went to work alongside Soviet sappers, repairing dams blown by the j.a.panese. Peasants gave warnings of ambushes. "When we entered the city of Vanemiao905," said Oleg Smirnov, "the Chinese welcomed us with cries of 'Shango!' and ' and 'Vansui!'-'10,000 years of life to you.' They were waving red flags and almost jumping onto our tank tracks." In reality, local people were most likely crying "Zhongguo wansui!"-"Long live China!"-but Smirnov and his comrades were not to know that.

On the Pacific coast, Russian naval infantry launched amphibious a.s.saults to take the towns of Unggi and Najin on 11 and 12 August, and at Chongjin four days later. Even after the defenders were forced out, many continued fighting in the surrounding hills. Units of the Soviet 2nd Far East Front still faced heavy counter-attacks on 1516 August. Russian warships found themselves duelling with an armoured train ash.o.r.e. Fighting for Chongjin ended only late on 16 August, when troops of the Russian 25th Army arrived overland to meet the naval infantry.

The emperor Pu Yi's train approached Meheguo on 12 August. The Guandong Army's commander, Yamada, boarded the imperial carriage to report that j.a.panese forces were everywhere victorious. His a.s.surances were immediately belied by the spectacle of crowds of screaming j.a.panese fugitives of all ages and both s.e.xes, brawling soldiers and police, at Jelin station. Next day, the emperor arrived at Dalizikou, a coal-mining community set among beautiful mountains. Here, through two days of terror, Pu Yi and his bedraggled little party waited on events, and his fate.

It was plain that j.a.pan was defeated, but it seemed much less obvious what would follow. "Most of us knew that Stalin906 was doing this for his own reasons," said Chinese Nationalist captain Luo Dingwen. "We had no reason to love or trust the Russians." Xu Guiming was a Chinese clerk at the j.a.panese Propaganda Bureau in the town of Aihni, on the Manchurian side of the Amur River, now in the Soviet 2nd Far Eastern Front's sector. He lived a few hundred yards from the office building, in a courtyard occupied by three families. There was his own, and that of Zeng, another clerk in the Propaganda Bureau. The third family was that of their landlord, a rich Muslim named Mr. Chen who owned ten cows and was customarily so deep in an opium-induced stupor that events of war and peace pa.s.sed him by. On the evening of 9 August, a telephone rang in the courtyard. It was the Propaganda Bureau. All its employees were to report to the office immediately, to receive vital news. was doing this for his own reasons," said Chinese Nationalist captain Luo Dingwen. "We had no reason to love or trust the Russians." Xu Guiming was a Chinese clerk at the j.a.panese Propaganda Bureau in the town of Aihni, on the Manchurian side of the Amur River, now in the Soviet 2nd Far Eastern Front's sector. He lived a few hundred yards from the office building, in a courtyard occupied by three families. There was his own, and that of Zeng, another clerk in the Propaganda Bureau. The third family was that of their landlord, a rich Muslim named Mr. Chen who owned ten cows and was customarily so deep in an opium-induced stupor that events of war and peace pa.s.sed him by. On the evening of 9 August, a telephone rang in the courtyard. It was the Propaganda Bureau. All its employees were to report to the office immediately, to receive vital news.

Xu reached the squat three-storey building to find j.a.panese scurrying hither and thither with piles of doc.u.ments, which they were hurling onto a huge bonfire. Inside, the staff a.s.sembled. The director announced that he had received information that Russian forces had crossed the border into Manchuria. Everyone must leave the town by next afternoon. The j.a.panese staff bowed their heads in abject misery. Xu felt no emotion, for nothing about his employers commanded his sympathy. They all queued to receive three months' salary apiece, then returned home as their workplace was put to the torch.

In the courtyard, Xu found his neighbour Zeng exploiting his ownership of four ponies to flee with his wife, children and what little they could carry. Xu discussed the situation with his own family, which included a brother and a.s.sorted children. They decided to seek shelter nearby. By the time they had taken themselves into the fields, darkness had fallen. Exhausted, they huddled together into a slumber which lasted well past dawn. Daylight revealed that while about half Aihni's 20,000 population had fled further afield, many inhabitants like themselves had chosen to remain, watching events which soon unfolded. A procession of Soviet gunboats appeared, steaming steadily downriver. They opened fire, raking the sh.o.r.eline and pouring sh.e.l.ls into the nearby railway station. To and fro the guns ranged, killing an old woman and a cow not far from Xu. Then, as Russian marines began to storm ash.o.r.e, the head of the local labour union advanced to meet them. "Welcome to the north-east," said this rather brave Chinese. He told the Russians that all the j.a.panese had gone, and that there were no weapons in the town. Some 4,000 j.a.panese troops held out nearby, however, surrendering only on 20 August.

THE DAYS and weeks that followed the Russian occupation were a brutal shock to the "liberated" people of Aihni. They witnessed their share of the orgy of rape and destruction which overtook Manchuria. On 13 August, Xu Guiming saw two Russian soldiers accost in the street a local girl named Zhang-half-Russian, half-Chinese, like many people of the region. "We reckon you owe us one," they said, throwing her to the ground. One man held her down while the other bestrode her, and a ghastly little drama took place. Zhang fought fiercely, throwing aside her rapist. This caused the other man to unsling his gun and shoot her. His careless bullets also killed his comrade, however. The occupants of a pa.s.sing Russian vehicle, seeing what happened, themselves unleashed a burst of fire which killed the murderer. Three corpses were left unheeded in the street. and weeks that followed the Russian occupation were a brutal shock to the "liberated" people of Aihni. They witnessed their share of the orgy of rape and destruction which overtook Manchuria. On 13 August, Xu Guiming saw two Russian soldiers accost in the street a local girl named Zhang-half-Russian, half-Chinese, like many people of the region. "We reckon you owe us one," they said, throwing her to the ground. One man held her down while the other bestrode her, and a ghastly little drama took place. Zhang fought fiercely, throwing aside her rapist. This caused the other man to unsling his gun and shoot her. His careless bullets also killed his comrade, however. The occupants of a pa.s.sing Russian vehicle, seeing what happened, themselves unleashed a burst of fire which killed the murderer. Three corpses were left unheeded in the street.

Xu did not himself witness another local incident which became notorious. A Russian burst into the home of a local policeman, Mr. Su, who was sitting with a man friend and his twenty-year-old wife, newly delivered of a baby. The Russian brusquely ordered the men out, and raped the girl. When he emerged, the outraged Chinese seized and bound him, then thrust him down their well. This incident rendered the avenging Chinese briefly famous, and a local hero. However, when the Communists soon afterwards took control of Aihni, Su was arrested for killing the Russian, "our ally," and summarily shot. His raped wife was denounced as a counter-revolutionary, an outcast, and forbidden ever again to marry or receive the protection of a man.

Xu said bitterly: "This was not justice907. Everyone was sickened by the things that happened. The Russians were supposed to be our liberators, our brothers, but we quickly learned to regard them as enemies. They masqueraded as revolutionaries, but in truth they were no more than wolves." Xu himself was fortunate to escape retribution for his time working for the j.a.panese. "I was too unimportant a person," he shrugged. Like millions of Manchurian Chinese, he now found himself witnessing a drama on which the curtain would ring down in accordance with Moscow's timetable, not that of Tokyo or Washington.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

The Last Act

1. "G.o.d's Gifts"

THE O OPERATIONS and Plans Division of the War Department in Washington wrote on 7 August: "Undoubtedly the biggest question and Plans Division of the War Department in Washington wrote on 7 August: "Undoubtedly the biggest question908 in [ j.a.panese] minds is how many atomic bombs have we and where are we going to drop the next one...We had a rumor that Suzuki had been made Premier to make peace. If this was true, either there were strings to his appointment or else conditions have changed. j.a.panese propaganda since the [Potsdam] proclamation has obviously been guided by those 'self-willed militarists' against whom [it] was aimed." This was not far from the mark. in [ j.a.panese] minds is how many atomic bombs have we and where are we going to drop the next one...We had a rumor that Suzuki had been made Premier to make peace. If this was true, either there were strings to his appointment or else conditions have changed. j.a.panese propaganda since the [Potsdam] proclamation has obviously been guided by those 'self-willed militarists' against whom [it] was aimed." This was not far from the mark.

It remains cause for astonishment that, even in the wake of the atomic bombs and the Soviet invasion of Manchuria, the political stalemate in j.a.pan at first appeared unbroken. The military party, dominated by the war minister, Anami, and other service chiefs, argued that nothing had changed: resistance to the death was preferable to accepting the Potsdam Declaration; j.a.pan could still successfully oppose an invasion of the homeland. Admiral Toyoda, the naval chief, fancifully suggested that world opinion would prevent the U.S. from perpetrating another "inhuman atrocity" with atomic bombs. Some civilian politicians were now willing to accept Potsdam, but with familiar conditions: there should be no occupation of j.a.pan, and the j.a.panese must try their own alleged war criminals. Most ministers, however, cared about only a single issue: retention of the position of the emperor, though there were endless nuances about how this demand should be articulated. There is no doubt that some genuinely feared the spectre of "red revolution" in j.a.pan, of a dramatic and terrible explosion of popular wrath in the wake of defeat, if the stabilising influence of the emperor was removed.

Throughout 9 August, at meetings of the cabinet and Supreme War Council and at the Imperial Palace, these matters were debated. Within the government and service departments, the terms of dispute quickly became known, and provoked frenzied intrigue. Junior officers at the War Ministry, in particular, were appalled by the notion of surrender, and pressed their superiors to have no part of such a betrayal. Vice-Admiral Onishi, begetter of the kamikaze campaign and now deputy chief of naval staff, begged Anami not to yield to the peacemakers. News of the second atomic bomb on Nagasaki appears to have made astonishingly little impact on the leadership one way or another, save that it fulfilled the American purpose of emphasising that "Little Boy" was not a unique phenomenon. Anami speculated wildly that the Americans might possess as many as a hundred atomic weapons.

That evening of the ninth, the "Big Six" members of the Supreme War Council found themselves called to an "imperial conference" in the palace. There, they were told, Hirohito would announce a "sacred decision." The summons reflected fevered efforts by the peace party, in conversations that afternoon between Prince Konoe, Mamoru Shigemitsu and the lord privy seal, Marquis Kido. At first, Kido was aghast at the notion of involving the throne in a matter of such delicacy. "You are advocating a direct decision from the emperor," he told the politicians. "Have you ever thought what embarra.s.sment such a course might cause His Majesty?" The peacemakers, however, knew that only the emperor's personal support might make it possible to overcome military resistance to surrender. They pressed their point. After a forty-minute private conversation between emperor and lord privy seal, the substance of which was never disclosed, Kido returned to report Hirohito's a.s.sent to an "imperial conference." The service chiefs agreed to attend, and to hear the "sacred decision," knowing full well what this would be. Most privately recognised that j.a.pan was beaten. Yet still they ducked and weaved, to escape overt complicity in an outcome which their peers and subordinates would deem a betrayal. Slim of Fourteenth Army was surely right when he observed that while j.a.pan's commanders were physically brave men, many were also moral cowards.

The imperial conference began ten minutes before midnight on 9 August. The text of the Potsdam Declaration was read aloud. Foreign Minister Togo tabled a one-condition draft, proposing Potsdam's acceptance provided that no change was demanded "in the status of the emperor under the national laws." War Minister Anami continued to preach defiance, supported by his military colleagues. Soon after 2 a.m. on 10 August, however, Prime Minister Suzuki rose, bowed to the emperor, ignored a protest from Anami and invited the emperor's decision. Hirohito, still seated at the table, leaned forward and said: "I will express my opinion. It is the same as that of the foreign minister." It was necessary to "bear the unbearable." Hirohito spoke harshly of the chasm between the military's past promises and performance. Suzuki said: "We have heard your august Thought." Hirohito then left the room. Everyone present, including the military proponents of continued belligerence, signed a doc.u.ment approving the imperial decision.

Yet the war party was successful in introducing into the Togo draft a significant amendment. This accepted Potsdam "on the understanding that the Allied Declaration would not comprise any demand which would prejudice the prerogatives of His Majesty as a Sovereign Ruler." It was almost inevitable that a phrase open to far-reaching interpretations would be rejected by the United States. Even at this late and terrible hour, in Tokyo resistance to capitulation persisted. As j.a.pan's conditional acceptance of Potsdam was transmitted to the world, within the service ministries desperate intrigue continued. Junior officers were plotting a coup. The civilian politicians feared for their lives.

On 10 August, j.a.panese military headquarters in Shanghai signalled China Army HQ in Nanjing in some bewilderment. Local Chinese were celebrating Allied victory, its staff reported, cheering in the streets and letting off fireworks. Nationalist radio was reporting that j.a.pan had accepted the Potsdam terms. What were j.a.panese forces supposed to do? In private, Nanjing staff officers readily recognised that the war was lost, and had started to address the logistical problems of getting a million soldiers and 750,000 civilians back to j.a.pan. No one, however, was ready openly to concede this. Nanjing answered Shanghai: "Ignore it all909909. j.a.pan has accepted nothing. We fight on."

That same morning of the tenth, when Truman heard news of the j.a.panese p.r.o.nouncement, he summoned Byrnes, Stimson and Forrestal to the White House, where they were joined by Leahy, the president's chief of staff. It is an indication of Stimson's curious absence of expectation that any historic climax was imminent that he was due to leave on vacation that day, until he learned of the j.a.panese message. All those at the White House save Byrnes favoured immediate acceptance. No quibble, they thought, was worth delaying peace. But the secretary of state, still the most powerful influence on the president, said that he was troubled by the j.a.panese condition. "Unconditional surrender" had always been the demand, indeed a national slogan, of the United States. He argued that to modify this now, when the U.S. was using atomic bombs and Russia had entered the j.a.panese war, would seem incomprehensible to the American people. Byrnes was perfectly amenable to preserving Hirohito's role. He was merely determined that the world should perceive the throne's survival as the fruit of American magnanimity, not j.a.panese intransigence.

Truman approved a note drafted by the State Department at Byrnes's behest, which was sent to London, Moscow and Chongqing on the afternoon of 10 August. This stipulated that "from the moment of surrender the authority of the emperor and the j.a.panese government to rule the state shall be subject to the Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers," and that "the ultimate form of government of j.a.pan shall be...established by the freely expressed will of the j.a.panese people." The British responded immediately, making their only significant intervention. They argued that it was wrong to insist, as the Americans proposed, that the emperor should personally sign the surrender terms. Probably mistakenly, Byrnes accepted this. He ignored Chiang Kai-shek's dissent.

On the tenth also, Truman told the cabinet he had given orders that no further atomic bombs should be dropped on j.a.pan without his explicit authority. It is reasonable to speculate that, in the days since 6 August, a sense of the enormity of the consequences of Hiroshima had darkened the mood of celebration with which the president greeted the first news. He was not alone in this. "Along with a thrill of power and the instinctive pleasure at the thought of j.a.pan cringing in abject surrender, America's deep-rooted humanitarianism has begun to a.s.sert itself," the British Emba.s.sy in Washington suggested to the Foreign Office in London on 11 August, "and this secondary revulsion910 has been very marked in private conversation, although it has not yet appeared in the press...There is a good deal of heart-searching about the morality of using such a weapon, especially against an enemy already known to be on his last legs." has been very marked in private conversation, although it has not yet appeared in the press...There is a good deal of heart-searching about the morality of using such a weapon, especially against an enemy already known to be on his last legs."

Truman, however, was determined to maintain pressure on j.a.pan. He rejected the urgings of Stimson and Forrestal to halt conventional bombing. Between 10 and 14 August, LeMay's Superfortresses maintained their attacks on j.a.pan's cities, killing 15,000 people. Technical preparations continued for the release of further atomic bombs, should these prove necessary. A third weapon would be ready for delivery on 19 August. If Tokyo remained obdurate, U.S. a.s.sistant chief of staff Gen. John Hull debated with Colonel Seeman of the Manhattan Project the relative merits of dropping more bombs as they became available, or holding back to "pour them all on in a reasonably short time911," in tactical support of an invasion. Gen. Carl Spaatz, USAAF strategic bombing supremo, opposed continuing firebomb attacks. This was not, however, for humanitarian reasons: he simply preferred to conserve American lives and effort until the nineteenth, then drop a third atomic weapon on Tokyo.

In Moscow, Stalin perceived that peace was very near, and hastened to complete his treaty with the Chinese Nationalists. By its terms, Moscow recognised Chiang Kai-shek as his country's sole legitimate ruler. However, the Soviet leader sought to introduce a clause whereby Chiang would introduce "national unity and democratisation." The Nationalist delegation rejected this out of hand. Stalin asked: "Don't you want to democratise China? If you continue to attack Communists, are we expected to support [the] Chinese government? We have no wish to interfere, but [it would be] hard for us to support [you] morally when you fight Communists." The Nationalists remained implacable. Stalin shrugged: "Very well. You see how many concessions we make. China's Communists will curse us." But agreement on other issues remained elusive. Only at 3 a.m. on 15 August was the "Treaty of Friendship and Alliance" between the USSR and China finally signed.

That night of the tenth in Moscow, Foreign Minister Molotov told Harriman, the U.S. amba.s.sador, that in the absence of j.a.panese unconditional surrender, the Soviet thrust into Manchuria would continue. As ever, Tokyo's stubbornness suited Soviet convenience. More dismaying, the Soviets now abruptly a.s.serted that they expected a share in the occupation of j.a.pan, including the appointment of their own supreme commander to serve jointly with MacArthur. Harriman responded furiously, saying that this was an outrageous demand, when Russia had only been in the j.a.panese war for two days. The Soviets eventually backed off, and accepted MacArthur's appointment as SCAP-Supreme Commander Allied Powers.

On 11 August the Byrnes note was dispatched to the j.a.panese government. It reached Tokyo in the early hours of the twelfth, provoking bitter disappointment among the peace party. Togo, the foreign minister, was at first disposed to abandon his commitment to bow to Washington. Only with the utmost reluctance did Suzuki and Togo finally agree to accept Byrnes's terms. The most surprising reactions came from some of the military. Deputy Chief of Staff Torashiro Kawabe declared that it was now too late to draw back from surrender, or to question the emperor's decision. He wrote in his diary: "Alas, we are defeated. The imperial state we have believed in has been ruined." Kawabe's superior, Gen. Yoshijiro Umezu, was nicknamed "the ivory mask." He recognised that the war was lost. Toyoda, the naval chief, was similarly resigned. In contradiction to such private realism, however, in the presence of others all three persisted in holding out for conditions. Fearful of their own junior officers, they satisfied their "honour" by submitting a note to the emperor a.s.serting that acceptance of the Byrnes note amounted to acceding to "slave status" for j.a.pan. Hirohito sharply rebuked them, a.s.serting that his own mind was made up. The nation must rely upon American good faith.

The army's general staff drafted its own defiant response for the Supreme War Council to send to the Americans, a.s.serting j.a.pan's determination to continue the war. Fantastically, it also emphasised j.a.pan's refusal to declare war on the Soviet Union, apparently in the hope that Russian mediation still offered a prospect of better terms. This doc.u.ment was never dispatched, of course, but staff officers continued to plot a coup to forestall surrender. Kawabe was told of their intentions, and equivocated. Anami listened to an outline of the coup plan, neither approved nor disapproved, but made suggestions for refining its execution. He agreed to the mobilisation of some units which could secure the Imperial Palace and arrest civilian ministers. Anami's personal position had become further complicated the previous day, when Tokyo papers published in his name an exhortation to j.a.pan's soldiers to fight on, "even if we have to eat gra.s.s, chew dirt and sleep in the fields." This display of bellicosity was in reality issued by junior officers without Anami's knowledge. He refused to renounce the statement, however, because it reflected his personal convictions.

Signals were received from a succession of officers in the field, urging that the nation should fight on. Old Gen. Yasuji Okamura, directing j.a.pan's armies in China, cabled: "I am firmly convinced that it is time to exert all our efforts to fight to the end, determined that the whole army should die an honourable death without being distracted by the enemy's peace offensive." Field Marshal Terauchi spoke for his command: "Under no circ.u.mstances can the Southern Army accept the enemy's reply." Even by the standards of the j.a.panese military, in those days the conduct of its leaders was extraordinary. They seemed to care nothing for the welfare of j.a.pan's people, everything for their perverted concept of personal honour and that of the inst.i.tution to which they belonged. They knew that continued military resistance was futile. Yet they deluded themselves that they not only could, but must, pretend otherwise. Anami told Kido that the army was utterly opposed to accepting the Byrnes note. Among the civilian politicians, some continued to claim that they could endorse no terms which rendered the emperor subordinate to the supreme Allied commander.

Hirohito himself, however, declared that he was satisfied by Washington's a.s.sertion that the j.a.panese people could choose their own form of government. There is significant evidence that he was more affected than his senior officers by the atomic bombings-he quizzed Kido closely about their effects. At 3 p.m. on 12 August, the emperor summoned the men of his family, thirteen princes, to an unprecedented meeting at the palace, at which he explained the situation. All agreed to accept his judgement, including his youngest brother, Prince Mikasa, who had betrayed an earlier peace move to the military. Suzuki, after further vacillation, rallied with Togo to support acceptance of Byrnes's note. Yonai, the navy minister, with considerable courage summoned Admirals Toyoda and Onishi, and sternly reprimanded them for questioning the emperor's will. Yonai confided to a colleague: "The atomic bombs and the Soviet entry into the war are, in a sense, G.o.d's gifts." They offered substantive reasons to end the war.

All through 13 August, meetings of the military and civilian factions continued. Hirohito, having embarked hesitantly on the path to surrender, progressively increased the energy of his interventions to secure this. He appears to have exercised private pressure on all the military chiefs to forestall a coup. At 3 p.m., after further sessions of the Supreme War Council and cabinet, Togo reported to the emperor that the war and peace parties were deadlocked. Anami begged the prime minister to delay two days before reconvening the imperial conference-he obviously wanted time to rally the military against surrender. Suzuki refused. A naval doctor attending the ailing prime minister said: "You know that Anami will kill himself?" Suzuki said: "Yes, I know, and I am sorry."

The drama of those days, the constant proximity of disaster, almost defies belief. Only a chance encounter with a Tokyo journalist enabled the peacemakers to prevent the military plotters from broadcasting on national radio an announcement that j.a.pan would fight on. Anami spent hours listening to pleadings from the colonels and majors planning their coup. He still refused to join them, presumably because a wooden-headed interpretation of honour prevented him from taking up arms against the emperor, while precluding him from frustrating the conspirators.

Two days had pa.s.sed, in which j.a.pan remained silent while the world waited. "The days of negotiation912 with a prostrate and despised enemy strained public patience," the British emba.s.sy in Washington reported to London: "Although the responsible press united in support of the [Byrnes] reply to the j.a.panese surrender offer...the general public were and still are much less tolerant of discredited deities...The man in the street seemed keener to hear about Admiral Halsey riding on Hirohito's white horse, as he had boasted he would, than to listen to explanations about the problems of administering j.a.pan." More j.a.panese died under air bombardment. The Russians swept on across Manchuria. with a prostrate and despised enemy strained public patience," the British emba.s.sy in Washington reported to London: "Although the responsible press united in support of the [Byrnes] reply to the j.a.panese surrender offer...the general public were and still are much less tolerant of discredited deities...The man in the street seemed keener to hear about Admiral Halsey riding on Hirohito's white horse, as he had boasted he would, than to listen to explanations about the problems of administering j.a.pan." More j.a.panese died under air bombardment. The Russians swept on across Manchuria.

On the morning of 14 August, at the Imperial Palace Kido was woken by an aide who showed him a leaflet, one of hundreds of thousands showered on Tokyo during the night by B-29s. This gave the text of the emperor's letter of 10 August accepting Potsdam, and the Byrnes response. Neither doc.u.ment had hitherto been seen by the j.a.panese public. Kido told Hirohito that he feared the propaganda bombardment might precipitate action by the coup plotters. He proposed to force the pace: there should be an unprecedented meeting of all twenty-three members of the cabinet and Supreme War Council, at which the emperor would announce his decision to accept the Byrnes note. Soon after ten, the leaders of j.a.pan began to arrive, taking their places in silence on rows of chairs in the cramped bas.e.m.e.nt shelter, awaiting Hirohito. At 10:50, the meeting began. The military representatives expressed their familiar objections to surrender. The prime minister did not trouble to invite the peace party to rehea.r.s.e its arguments. He simply invited the emperor's decision.

Hirohito said he was convinced that j.a.pan could not continue the war. He believed the Allies would retain the kokutai kokutai. He asked everyone present to respect his decision to accept the Byrnes note, and urged the military and naval leaders to persuade their subordinates to do so. He announced his intention to broadcast personally to the j.a.panese people, to help them accept the shock. He instructed the government to prepare an Imperial Rescript ending the war. Most of his listeners wept. Suzuki rose, thanked the emperor and apologised for the cabinet's failure to reach agreement, which had made imperial intervention necessary. Some post-war scholars have sought to argue that the Byrnes note enabled j.a.pan to quit the war on contracted terms rather than by unconditional surrender, and thus that American stubbornness on the point-prompting the atomic bombs-was spurious. To dismiss this claim, it is necessary only to notice that the leaders of j.a.pan were in no doubt that they submitted at America's mercy and pleasure, which is why so many resisted.

That night of 14 August, junior officers from the Army Ministry, led by Maj. Kenji Hatanaka and Lt. Col. Jiro Shiizaki, staged their coup. It was a feeble adventure, which could nonetheless have had disastrous consequences. First, the two officers and their supporters rushed into Anami's office on the war minister's return from the imperial conference. When he said that he could not support them, adding that "those who disobey will do so over my dead body," the conspirators burst into tears. Army chief Umezu gathered his staff around his own person, making it almost impossible for the rebels to pa.s.s orders to outlying units. His vice-chief secured the signatures of every leading military figure, including Anami, on a doc.u.ment committing them to accept the emperor's sacred decision. Senior soldiers began burning doc.u.ments, a process that continued apace through the weeks which followed, in all j.a.pan's key ministries and headquarters.

Around 4 p.m., Hatanaka and Shiizaki slipped into the compound of the Imperial Palace. They successfully convinced Col. Toyojiro Haga, commanding the 2nd Imperial Guard Regiment protecting Hirohito, that he should join their plot, on the understanding that it enjoyed the army's support. At 11 p.m. the Imperial Rescript, signed by every member of the cabinet, was dispatched to Berne and Stockholm, for onward transmission to the four Allied governments. In his office, Hirohito read the text aloud to a phonograph. Two duplicate records were then secreted in a safe in the empress's office, for broadcast next day. Even as the recording was being made, Hatanaka and Shiizaki drove to the headquarters of the Imperial Guard Division close to the palace, to incite its commander to join their plot. When he refused, Hatanaka drew a pistol and shot him dead. He then forged an order for all seven Imperial Guard regiments to rally to the emperor's "protection." This bluff was at first successful. Troops deployed to cut Hirohito's communications with the outside world.

Hatanaka and Shiizaki themselves hastened back to the palace, and began searching for the records of the imperial broadcast. They interrogated the radio technicians and court chamberlains, but were unable to find either the disks or Marquis Kido. Had they done so, much harm might have ensued. Any delay in the imperial broadcast would have cost lives. The mutiny might have spread. Kido and the emperor himself are thought to have hidden themselves during the hours in which angry and frustrated rebels roamed the palace corridors. Around 1:30 a.m. another plotter, Anami's brother-in-law Masashiko Takes.h.i.ta, called at the war minister's house to plead once more with him to join the coup. A farcical scene ensued. Anami invited him in and said: "I am going to commit seppuku seppuku. What do you think?" Takes.h.i.ta said he had always a.s.sumed that this would be Anami's chosen course. He certainly would not attempt to dissuade him. Abandoning his responsibilities to the other coup plotters, Takes.h.i.ta sat down to drink sake sake with the doomed man. In the distance, they could hear the concussions of bomb explosions. In response to Spaatz's urging that the Twentieth Air Force should lay on "as big a finale as possible," 821 B-29s were attacking j.a.pan that night. with the doomed man. In the distance, they could hear the concussions of bomb explosions. In response to Spaatz's urging that the Twentieth Air Force should lay on "as big a finale as possible," 821 B-29s were attacking j.a.pan that night.

Soon after 3 a.m., troops of Eastern Army arrived at the palace, informed the Imperial Guard soldiers that their orders had been faked, and quickly restored order. Realising that the coup had failed, one plotter, Col. Masataka Ida, drove to Anami's house to report the news. The war minister invited Ida, also, to join him for a farewell drink. There were more tears and embraces. At 5:30 a.m., Anami donned a white shirt given to him by Hirohito, seated himself on the floor facing the Imperial Palace, thrust a short sword into his left abdomen, and made the proper cross and upward cuts. He then severed his own carotid artery. As blood sprayed across the testament before him, Takes.h.i.ta asked: "Do you want me to help?" Anami said: "No need. Leave me alone." When his brother-in-law found the general still breathing a few minutes later, he took the sword and finished him off. The only mitigation for Anami's contemptible conduct of his own life and death is that he never betrayed the doings of the peace party to the fanatics. Later that morning, Hatanaka and Shiizaki shot themselves.

Given the mind-set of j.a.pan's armed forces, what was remarkable was not that a coup was attempted, but that only a tiny handful of officers chose to partic.i.p.ate. For all their anger, and a significant number of suicides in the days to come, the overwhelming majority of soldiers acceded to the emperor's will. If this indicated the strength of Hirohito's influence, it also seems unlikely that it could have been effectual save in the new circ.u.mstances created by Soviet entry into the war and the atomic bombs. So powerful was the culture of self-immolation fostered by j.a.panese militarism over a generation that the instincts of many officers demanded continuing the war, however futile such a course.

Even had j.a.pan chosen to reject the Byrnes note, it is most unlikely that an American invasion of the home islands would have been necessary. The Soviets were within days of reaching the Pacific coast and establishing themselves in the Kuriles. LeMay's B-29s were preparing to launch a systematic a.s.sault on j.a.pan's transport network, against negligible opposition, which would quickly have reduced much of the population to starvation. Historians have expended much ink upon measuring the comparative influence of the atomic bombs against that of Soviet intervention in persuading j.a.pan to surrender. This seems a sterile exercise, since it is plain that both played their parts. "For j.a.pan's civilian politicians913," a.s.serts j.a.panese historian Kazutoshi Hando, "the dropping of the atomic bombs was the last straw. For the j.a.panese army, it was the Russian invasion of Manchuria."

Considering the plight of civilians and captives, dying in thousands daily under j.a.panese occupation, together with the casualties that would have been incurred had the Soviets been provoked into maintaining their advance across mainland China, almost any scenario suggests that far more people of many nationalities would have died in the course of even a few further weeks of war than were killed by the atomic bombs. Stalin would almost certainly have seized Hokkaido, with his usual indifference to losses. Robert Newman suggests914 that 250,000 deaths would have occurred in every further month the war continued. Even if this is excessive, it addresses a plausible range of numbers. Starvation and LeMay's fire-raisers would have killed hundreds of thousands more j.a.panese by the late autumn of 1945. Such an a.s.sertion does not immediately render the detonations of the atomic bombs acceptable acts. It merely emphasises the fact that the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by no means represented the worst outcome of the war for the j.a.panese people, far less for the world. that 250,000 deaths would have occurred in every further month the war continued. Even if this is excessive, it addresses a plausible range of numbers. Starvation and LeMay's fire-raisers would have killed hundreds of thousands more j.a.panese by the late autumn of 1945. Such an a.s.sertion does not immediately render the detonations of the atomic bombs acceptable acts. It merely emphasises the fact that the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by no means represented the worst outcome of the war for the j.a.panese people, far less for the world.

Those who seek to argue that j.a.pan was ready to surrender before Hiroshima are peddlers of fantasies. The Tokyo leadership was indeed eager for peace, but on terms rightly unacceptable to the Allied powers. Even after Nagasaki, the peace party prevailed only by the narrowest of margins. While evidence remains fragmentary and inconclusive, Richard Frank is surely right to argue that a critical, if unacknowledged, element in j.a.panese thinking was awareness that they had lost the chance of a "decisive battle for the homeland." The hopes of the military were pinned upon exploiting an opportunity to defeat a U.S. amphibious a.s.sault. Now j.a.pan faced devastation, starvation and probable Soviet invasion, without the need for America to expose its soldiers to the desperate defenders of Kyushu.

It is sometimes suggested that the U.S. would have lost nothing by making explicit its willingness to permit the j.a.panese people to keep their emperor. However, in the context of j.a.pan's conduct in Asia since 1931, the tens of millions of deaths for which j.a.panese aggression was responsible, it is hard to perceive any good reason for Truman to have modified his demand for the enemy's unconditional surrender. Byrnes's judgements withstand the tests of history. If there was a strand of triumphalism in American conduct, why should there not have been? The U.S. and its allies had been obliged to expend immense blood and treasure to frustrate the ambitions of a brutal fascistic aggressor. At any time, by acknowledging defeat j.a.pan could have secured peace, escaped the atomic bombs. The fact that its leaders did not do so reflected their own irrational choice, rather than American obduracy. Why should the sensibilities of such men as Anami, Toyoda, Umezu and their subordinates have been indulged, when at last their b.l.o.o.d.y pretensions were brought to naught?

The emperor himself will never cut a sympathetic figure in Western eyes. Hirohito presided over a society which had brought misery upon many nations. If he was not a prime mover, throughout the war his preoccupation with the preservation of the imperial house caused him to treat j.a.pan's militarists as honourable men and legitimate arbiters of power, to applaud their successes and acquiesce in their excesses. Yet there was a redemptive quality about his conduct in those last days. Albeit belatedly, he displayed a courage and conviction which saved hundreds of thousands of lives. To a man of such instinctive diffidence, his role was entirely unwelcome, but he fulfilled it in a fashion which commands some respect. It is sometimes argued that the Allies were mistaken not to remove Hirohito from his throne in August 1945; that failure to do so allowed the j.a.panese people to deny the iniquity of the crimes committed in his name, as many do to this day. Nonetheless, whatever his faults in years past, through Hirohito's actions in August 1945 the imperial house worked a pa.s.sage to its own salvation.

At 7:21 on the morning of the fifteenth, j.a.pan's radio network began to broadcast repeated calls for every listener to tune in at noon, to receive a personal message from the emperor. Following the National Anthem, Hirohito's squeaky tones, speaking in old j.a.panese almost incomprehensible to many of his subjects, delivered his reading of the Rescript:

After pondering deeply the general trends of the world and actual conditions obtaining in Our Empire today, We have decided to effect a settlement of the present situation by resorting to an extraordinary measure. We have ordered Our Government to communicate to the Governments of the United States, Great Britain, China, and the Soviet Union that Our Empire accepts the provisions of their Joint Declaration.

He then delivered an exposition of his nation's past conduct which has become familiar to posterity, together with a circ.u.mlocution tortured even by j.a.panese standards, that the war situation had evolved "not necessarily to j.a.pan's advantage." He lamented America's employment of "a new most cruel bomb." He appealed to the armed forces to accept his decision, concluding: "Cultivate the ways of rect.i.tude; foster n.o.bility of spirit; and work with resolution so as ye may enhance the innate glory of the Imperial State and keep pace with the progress of the world." Hirohito's archaic phrases represented a self-serving caricature of j.a.pan's recent history, yet they sufficed for their immediate purpose.

That afternoon, the Suzuki cabinet resigned. The elderly Prince Higashikuni reluctantly accepted the premiership. At 7 p.m. on 14 August Washington time, before a dense throng of politicians and journalists, Harry Truman read the announcement of j.a.pan's unconditional acceptance of the Potsdam Declaration. He then sent a message to the Pentagon and the Navy Department, for onward transmission to American field commanders, ordering the cessation of all offensive operations against j.a.pan. Early in 1943, an editorial in Collier's Collier's magazine borrowed its headline from Cato's Roman curse upon Carthage: " magazine borrowed its headline from Cato's Roman curse upon Carthage: "Delenda est j.a.ponia." Now the American curse seemed fulfilled. j.a.pan was extinguished.

2. Despair and Deliverance

A FEW WEEKS FEW WEEKS before the j.a.panese capitulation, Gen. George Kenney's chief air planner warned: "Considering the suicidal tactics before the j.a.panese capitulation, Gen. George Kenney's chief air planner warned: "Considering the suicidal tactics915 and peculiar psychology of the j.a.ps in comparison with the Hun...stress the possibility of continued air action regardless of surrender." The Allies antic.i.p.ated that many j.a.panese would reject the emperor's call to lay down their arms; that American and British soldiers, sailors and airmen would have to continue to die, suppressing guerrilla resistance or even fighting conventional battles against the four million j.a.panese troops in the home islands, and three million more scattered across their overseas empire. and peculiar psychology of the j.a.ps in comparison with the Hun...stress the possibility of continued air action regardless of surrender." The Allies antic.i.p.ated that many j.a.panese would reject the emperor's call to lay down their arms; that American and British soldiers, sailors and airmen would have to continue to die, suppressing guerrilla resistance or even fighting conventional battles against the four million j.a.panese troops in the home islands, and three million more scattered across their overseas empire.

In late August 1945 there were indeed difficulties in reconciling some units to defeat, and dramatic suicides by individuals. When Vice-Admiral Matome Ugaki learned of the emperor's broadcast, he ordered planes prepared, drank a farewell sake sake with staff at 5th Air Fleet, then drove to Oita airfield on north-east Kyushu carrying a sword presented to him by Yamamoto, whom he had served as chief of staff. Eleven Suisei dive-bombers stood ready. "Are you with me?" he demanded of the pilots. "Yes, sir!" they cried. Ugaki shook hands with them. A warrant officer whom he dispossessed of his c.o.c.kpit seat insisted upon squeezing in beside him. During their subsequent flight, Ugaki made a voice transmission: "Despite the courage of every unit with staff at 5th Air Fleet, then drove to Oita airfield on north-east Kyushu carrying a sword presented to him by Yamamoto, whom he had served as chief of staff. Eleven Suisei dive-bombers stood ready. "Are you with me?" he demanded of the pilots. "Yes, sir!" they cried. Ugaki shook hands with them. A warrant officer whom he dispossessed of his c.o.c.kpit seat insisted upon squeezing in beside him. During their subsequent flight, Ugaki made a voice transmission: "Despite the courage of every unit916 under my command over the past six months, we have failed to destroy the arrogant enemy and protect our divine empire, a failure which must be considered my own." He left behind his diaries, together with a farewell note: "I shall vanish into the sky along with my vision." His final flight accomplished nothing save his own extinction, aged fifty-five. All the planes save three, which sensibly turned back with "engine failure," were shot down by American fighters. Ugaki made his death as contemptible as his life, by taking with him so many hapless young men. under my command over the past six months, we have failed to destroy the arrogant enemy and protect our divine empire, a failure which must be considered my own." He left behind his diaries, together with a farewell note: "I shall vanish into the sky along with my vision." His final flight accomplished nothing save his own extinction, aged fifty-five. All the planes save three, which sensibly turned back with "engine failure," were shot down by American fighters. Ugaki made his death as contemptible as his life, by taking with him so many hapless young men.

In the days that followed, some thousands of j.a.panese chose immolation rather than acknowledge defeat. Among these were Gen. Shizuichi Tanaka, the Oxford-educated commander of Eastern Army who had suppressed the coup against the palace; Prince Konoe; Vice-Admiral Onishi, prime sponsor of the kamikazes; Marshal Sugiyama and his wife; ten young men who killed themselves on Tokyo's Atago Hill, followed by two of their wives; eleven transport officers who chose to die in front of the Imperial Palace; and fourteen students who killed themselves on the Yoyogi parade ground. Hysteria seized some army officers. Tears fell in torrents across the nation. On a Philippine island, Lt. Hiroo Onoda and his little band of dest.i.tute j.a.panese soldiers found a message left by the Americans: "The war ended on August 15917. Come down from the mountains!" Neither he nor the others believed it: "There was no doubt in my mind this was an enemy trick." Onoda remained in hiding for twenty-eight years.

What is remarkable, however, is not how many j.a.panese rejected surrender, but how many embraced it gratefully, whatever protestations they made to the contrary. This outcome once more highlights the gulf between the private acknowledgement of reality and the public embrace of fantasy which had been the bane of the j.a.panese nation, and of Asia. Lt. Masaichi Kikuchi and other officers of the Singapore garrison heard rumours of the impending surrender from local Chinese a week before the news became official. Whatever paroxysms of grief these inspired among his career professional comrades, for Kikuchi they represented "a reprieve from918 a death sentence. For so long, we had all been asking ourselves: when would it be our turn to face the enemy? And to lose our lives?" a death sentence. For so long, we had all been asking ourselves: when would it be our turn to face the enemy? And to lose our lives?"

On the morning of the fifteenth, in Burma Lt. Hayashi Inoue was preparing to lead a local raid against British troops when he learned that the war was over. "I was overwhelmed with relief," he said. "It was so obvious we were beaten. Each day for months, it had seemed unlikely that one would survive to see the next." High in the hills of Luzon, Gen. Tomoyuki Yamas.h.i.ta still presided at his headquarters. When the surrender was announced, an officer urged the chief of staff to sit with his commander through the night, to prevent him from killing himself. Yamas.h.i.ta rea.s.sured them: "Don't worry, I won't go to heaven alone-it would help no one. My duty is to get our soldiers home. Relax and go to bed." A few days later, he a.s.sembled the staff of his headquarters, shook hands with each one, gave a final salute, then walked through the trees to give himself up to the Americans. He penned a last poem:

My soldiers have been gathered from the mountainslike wild flowers.Now it is my turn to go,and I do so gladly.

Likewise Lt.-Gen. Masaki Honda, who had fought Slim in Burma. At his headquarters in a village named Nangala he told his staff: "We must accept the emperor's announcement. This is the end of the war. I ask you to continue to obey orders and to refrain from any violent action." One of his officers, Maj. Mitsuo Abe, burst out pa.s.sionately: "The Allies will destroy919 our heritage and wipe out the j.a.panese race. The Americans will occupy our country forever. You are our commander. You should commit our heritage and wipe out the j.a.panese race. The Americans will occupy our country forever. You are our commander. You should commit seppuku seppuku-and if you dare not, I will show you how!" Honda, who was seated on the floor in j.a.panese fashion, calmly invited Abe to sit beside him. "You are a staff officer and thus supposed to be intelligent. Can't you understand the emperor's mind? We must bear our misfortunes with courage. Neither the old nor the young must kill themselves; that is not the way to save the nation. We must live on, and build the foundations of the new j.a.pan."

"The men all cried920 about the surrender," said twenty-four-year-old Yoshiko Hashimoto, who had lost half her family in the March firebombing of Tokyo. "I too cried-but with relief." Ryoichi Sekine, a Tokyo sixteen-year-old, experienced a sense of shame which his father did not share. Mr. Sekine senior said pragmatically: "Now we're going to live in a new world about the surrender," said twenty-four-year-old Yoshiko Hashimoto, who had lost half her family in the March firebombing of Tokyo. "I too cried-but with relief." Ryoichi Sekine, a Tokyo sixteen-year-old, experienced a sense of shame which his father did not share. Mr. Sekine senior said pragmatically: "Now we're going to live in a new world921 in which the Americans will call the shots." Yoichi Watanuki remembered hearing the triumphal blast of martial music which accompanied Tokyo Radio's announcement of j.a.pan's attack on Pearl Harbor, as an eight-year-old child on 8 December 1941. At school a.s.sembly later that morning, the headmaster made three hundred children each in turn mount his rostrum and declaim: "China, America and Britain are the enemies of j.a.pan." in which the Americans will call the shots." Yoichi Watanuki remembered hearing the triumphal blast of martial music which accompanied Tokyo Radio's announcement of j.a.pan's attack on Pearl Harbor, as an eight-year-old child on 8 December 1941. At school a.s.sembly later that morning, the headmaster made three hundred children each in turn mount his rostrum and declaim: "China, America and Britain are the enemies of j.a.pan."

Almost four years later, in the rural village to which the school had been evacuated, on 16 August 1945 Yoichi found himself summoned to a.s.sembly along with every other child, even though it was the holiday season. The same headmaster mustered his charges in the playground, then delivered a stern harangue. He said that the shame of defeat fell upon j.a.pan's people, who had failed its warriors. He ordered the children to kneel. Yoichi winced at the pain of the gravel beneath his bare knees. The children had to bow towards Tokyo and recite in chorus: "We apologise to the Emperor because we of the Home Front are responsible for the loss of the war." Yoichi felt angry and resentful. He was sure that he and his kind had done their utmost. Had the headmaster forgotten all those hours they spent digging out pine roots from which pitiful quant.i.ties of oil were extracted for aviation fuel? He went home and said to his mother: "Surely, we have lost the war922 because our soldiers were not good enough. They told us a Divine Wind would come, and it didn't. They lied to us, didn't they?" because our soldiers were not good enough. They told us a Divine Wind would come, and it didn't. They lied to us, didn't they?"

Lt. Cmdr. Haruki Iki flew a little communications plane to navy headquarters the night before the surrender, for a conference about his wing's invasion suicide mission. On landing, he met two staff officers whom he knew well from navy academy days. They greeted him and said: "Forget about the meeting. An important announcement's due which could change everything. Let's go and have a drink." They got their drinks, then spent the hours which followed in shelters, evading the attentions of American bombers. Then they listened to the emperor's broadcast. Like so many others, Iki dissolved into helpless tears. He flew alone back to his base, to find that most of his aircrew had decamped towards their homes. Iki, furious, dispatched demands for their return, with which most sheepishly complied. He put the disconsolate fliers to work smartening up their planes: "I thought the Americans923 would be taking them for reparations." Then a terse order arrived from headquarters: all aircraft were to be destroyed. So indeed they were. would be taking them for reparations." Then a terse order arrived from headquarters: all aircraft were to be destroyed. So indeed they were.

Another pilot, Toshio Hijikata, was in a naval hospital, having lost weight and developed chronic fever during the summer months. The doctors diagnosed lung trouble precipitated by combat flying. Other men in his ward seemed vastly relieved to hear the war was over, but Hijikata threw himself out of bed and hitched a ride on a vehicle back to his squadron's base at Kagoshima. "I was sure there would be924 one last great air battle," he said, "and I wanted to be in it." He was crestfallen to discover that his unit had accepted the surrender. one last great air battle," he said, "and I wanted to be in it." He was crestfallen to discover that his unit had accepted the surrender.

Maj. Shoji Takahashi, a general staff intelligence officer, had spent a week in Hiroshima as a member of the army's investigating team after the atomic explosion. Takahashi became ill, suffering from what he afterwards a.s.sumed was radiation sickness. He learned of j.a.pan's surrender at the airfield on their return to Tokyo. "All the way back to general staff headquarters925," he said later, "I was trying to decide how I would kill myself, because I a.s.sumed that we would all be expected to do this." It came as a surprise to discover that most officers were content to survive. Amid the profound sense of humiliation which engulfed the army, Takahashi refused an order that he should join the j.a.panese delegation flying to Manila to receive detailed instructions from the Americans: "I could not bear the idea of being one of those who abased ourselves before MacArthur."

At 1000 on 15 August, twelve kamikaze aircraft were as usual prepared for take-off at Hyakuri air base north of Tokyo. One proved unserviceable, but the remainder left as scheduled to attack the American fleet. Ground crews began to prepare the next wave of thirty for launch soon after noon. The imperial broadcast intervened. Interference was so bad that the crews working under Petty Officer Hachiro Miyas.h.i.ta could not understand a word the emperor said. They a.s.sumed that he was simply inciting them to greater effort, and returned to work. Suddenly, a man bicycled up to their dispersal and said: "Didn't you hear?926 The war's over." The most bewildered men on the airfield were the pilots, who had expected to be dead within two hours. "I watched them walk away to their quarters," said Miyas.h.i.ta. "Their shoulders were hunched, they looked sunk in misery. They were so keyed up for what they were going to do." The ground crews were expected in the mess hall, but even after flying was cancelled, Miyas.h.i.ta and his companions had no appet.i.tes. It was only some hours later that a new thought burst upon his consciousness: "I've made it! I've survived the war!" he exulted. That night, when for the first time he saw lights showing in buildings which had been blacked out for years, he began to perceive the merits of peace. The war's over." The most bewildered men on the airfield were the pilots, who had expected to be dead within two hours. "I watched them walk away to their quarters," said Miyas.h.i.ta. "Their shoulders were hunched, they looked sunk in misery. They were so keyed up for what they were going to do." The ground crews were expected in the mess hall, but even after flying was cancelled, Miyas.h.i.ta and his companions had no appet.i.tes. It was only some hours later that a new thought burst upon his consciousness: "I've made it! I've survived the war!" he exulted. That night, when for the first time he saw lights showing in buildings which had been blacked out for years, he began to perceive the merits of peace.

On 17 August there was an attempted mutiny at Atsugi air base, following which a Zero took off and flew to Hyakuri. Its pilot set about single-