Parker checked his watch. "Two reasons, and then we'd better catch our plane. You may be a general now, but that plane has a schedule to keep and other brass to ferry around the Pacific.
"First, he actually believes the battle for the Philippines is over and that he's won, and in a lot of ways he's right. The fact that it's incomplete is irrelevant to him. That's just the way his mind operates. He's finished with the Philippines and he wants to move on to the next challenge. He's right that he's won the campaign, but the fighting is still subject to flare-up at any time.
"The second reason is a little more insidious. It is widely believed among some members of his staff who used to be my friends that he avoided giving a higher estimate of casualties because he feared Washington would have called off the invasion. No invasion, no glory, and no victory. No victory and he can't become Hirohito's boss. Thus, Willoughby and Sutherland baked up some wild-ass low numbers on his behalf, and MacArthur grabbed them like the Holy Grail. Now he can invade with a clear conscience because his staff said it's okay."
"Oh, Lord," Monck said with a groan. An enlisted man told them their plane was ready. They grabbed their carry-on bags and headed across the hot runway for the transport plane. "What do your friends say about the real estimated numbers?"
"General, there is the slight possibility that Willoughby and Sutherland are right. But as to my friends, they're all scared to death that it could be a bloodbath."
Chapter 12
Reluctant OSS agent Joe Nomura knew that the Moray would sail away and leave him, but its sinking left him wondering if anyone in the United States even knew he was alive.
He'd hidden his supplies quickly, so not to attract enemy attention. A patrol had indeed confronted him in the rugged terrain after the explosions that signaled the end of the Moray.
After a few questions from their sergeant, Joe realized that his disguise worked. A one-armed veteran in a tattered uniform was of no concern or threat to the patrol. The soldiers were solely interested in whether he had seen or heard anything unusual regarding the explosions. They didn't even ask to see his carefully forged army papers. He was just too innocuous. He told them he had heard the explosions, but had seen nothing, and they brusquely sent him on his way.
The next day, Joe joined the milling throngs of refugees that clustered around hospitals and stood in long lines at food distribution centers near Nagasaki. He'd seen refugees before, but never so many, and never with so many of them injured. The hospitals were obviously overwhelmed by the catastrophe and could only handle the more serious injuries. Simple burns and broken bones didn't qualify one for medical care. These victims either found help elsewhere or endured. There was no choice for them.
Joe had also never seen so many people who both looked like him and who were in such obvious physical and emotional agony. The sight of the children, mute with horror, moved him more deeply than he ever thought possible.
However, without an arm and dressed in tatters, he blended in perfectly. This made him confident and he wandered about, listening to conversations, and occasionally asking questions of medical personnel who were helping to treat the most horribly injured. To his surprise, many were more than willing to talk about their experiences, although he got depressed when people inquired of him about their loved ones. He was a soldier, wasn't he? They thought he should know these things. It almost made him weep when they asked him about missing children.
That gave him the idea of volunteering to work in a hospital, and in the ensuing days, his services were accepted at several places where he helped with some of the more odious tasks, such as carrying out bodies. When one doctor asked him why he was doing it, Joe had drawn himself to attention and announced proudly, "Even a one-armed man can serve his emperor." The doctor had sucked in his breath and bowed to Joe in deference and respect to his sense of honor.
From several nurses, he heard the complaint that they had no bandages, no medicine, and, even if they had, these wouldn't work against the new sickness caused by the bomb.
From doctors he heard puzzling comments over the weakening effects of radiation. They wondered why some were spared while others were dying, and they compared notes while in his hearing.
The doctors were perplexed by people who appeared healthy, then collapsed, sickened, and died from radiation poisoning. How, they wondered, did one treat wounds that would not heal and burns that could not be quenched? Almost to a man they cursed the United States for the agony it had brought to Nagasaki. There were no curses for the Japanese government. Whatever thoughts the medics might have had in that regard were kept prudently in check. Anyone might turn someone with dissident thoughts in to the national military police, the kempei.
Usually the kempei wore ordinary military uniforms with distinguishing red and khaki armbands, and Joe saw several of them. Just as often, though, they wore civilian clothes and kept their identity a secret. From his briefings, Joe knew they were ruthless and, as the situation in Japan deteriorated, were becoming brutal. In many cases, they had the right to inflict summary judgment and punishment upon individuals.
Joe never stayed long at one place, often just a few hours, as he drew himself closer and closer to the center of Nagasaki. As he passed through the devastated and flattened city, he wondered just how the damage at Hiroshima could have been worse, yet he had been told that it was. Kokura, he'd heard, had suffered about as much as Nagasaki.
But it was Nagasaki that interested his superiors in the OSS. Nagasaki was on Kyushu, and that was considered relevant because of the open rumors that gave Kyushu as a probable, but still secret, target for the invasion. Hell, he thought, some secret. Even the Japanese he overheard speculated that Kyushu was a likely place for the Americans to land.
Nagasaki's destruction had occurred more than a month earlier, and the United States was concerned about the effects of lingering radiation on both places and people. Joe'd been given little packets of film to utilize in areas or on things where he suspected radiation. He was told that the extent to which the film was exposed would indicate the strength of radiation. He unobtrusively tagged these and checked them in private.
As he performed these experiments, a disturbing picture emerged. First, while radiation had dissipated somewhat, it had done so inconsistently. Areas in Nagasaki were still so hot that the Japanese had cordoned them off and permitted no one to enter. He wondered what effect the radiation would have on an American army moving through the area.
He found that people who had been under the mushroom cloud when it slowly fell back to the earth were seriously ill, with many of them dead or dying. The bomb had generated dirty outbursts of rain, which contaminated drinking water.
Most disturbing were the continuing incidents of seemingly healthy people who suddenly came down with serious cases of radiation sickness. Joe could only speculate on the causes. Either they had come in contact with something that was radioactively hot and had cooked them, or they had been contaminated earlier and it had taken days, even weeks, for the sickness to reach a point where they were incapacitated.
Joe found both options equally disturbing when he again contemplated the idea of GIs moving about and fighting in the poisoned land.
As to the other wounds he saw, the burns and fractures were nothing he hadn't seen before, only multiplied a thousandfold until the sheer numbers became numbing. That so many civilians had died came as no surprise to his sensitivities either. He had seen what modern warfare could do to Italian villages and knew that death in war was indiscriminate. However, he was concerned by the many cases of blindness. Most people who had seen the atomic explosion had suffered at least some vision damage. It was worth noting and he filed it mentally.