"So we have to do it the old-fashioned way?" Truman asked bitterly.
"Yes, sir."
Truman glanced over the figures. It was an awesome enterprise. In scope it would dwarf the landings in Normandy on D-Day. No other Allied forces would land with MacArthur's army, although some Royal Navy ships were operating in the Pacific in conjunction with Nimitz. Discussions that might lead to the later inclusion of British, Australian, and Canadian troops were ongoing, but there were no plans to use them at this time.
"Well thought out. Should we attempt to deceive the Japanese into thinking we won't attack Kyushu?"
"Yes, sir," Marshall again responded. "And those efforts are called Operation Pastel. They involve feints at Korea and Formosa, as was discussed as our first option, along with a sham thrust toward the island of Shikoku, which is actually closer to Tokyo than Kyushu, but, again, out of land-based air coverage."
Truman understood what he was hearing. The inescapable conclusion was that Kyushu was the only logical target. If the American military minds could realize that, so could the Japanese. "Gentlemen, will any of our deceptions work?"
Marshall 's expression changed to one of sadness. "Probably not, sir, or at least not to any great extent, but they must be attempted."
"Then, General Marshall, what will the Japanese be doing on November first, 1945?"
Marshall found it difficult to look Truman square in the eyes. "Mr. President, they'll be waiting for us on Kyushu with everything they have."
Chapter 17
Religion amused Col. Tadashi Sakei. Once it had been important to him, but that was when he had been very young and before so many of those he loved had been incinerated by the Americans. Since then he had seen the uselessness in believing in any god or gods who cared nothing for him. Thus, he became a convert to the cause of Japan and believed in it with zeal and fervor. Japan did care for him. Japan had nurtured and strengthened him. Japan was his god. Now he would repay her faith in him by protecting her with his life.
On the other hand, he did nothing to discourage religious beliefs in others. It mattered nothing to him whether a person believed in the gentle Buddha, the ancient rites of Shinto, or even the confusing and ridiculed logic of Christianity. All that was important was that the believer dedicate his or her life to Japan.
Thus, placing Emperor Hirohito in protective custody in a Shinto shrine near Nagasaki was an act of opportunity and expedience, not sacrilege. The Americans rarely attacked anything that looked religious, and he had gone to great lengths to keep his five-hundred-man Imperial Guards battalion dug in and out of sight during the day. Lookouts scanned the skies in all directions to watch for the enemy, who could drop like hawks on unsuspecting prey.
Shinto stood for the "way of the gods" and was the oldest religion in Japan. Devotees worshipped many gods, called kami, which were the basic force present in trees, rocks, rivers, and other parts of nature. Japan was liberally sprinkled with shrines, and this was a fairly large one with several buildings, including a charming garden that had been well tended by the priests who had run the shrine.
Sakei had chased off the religious occupants and installed Hirohito in the quarters of their senior priest. It was hardly palatial, but it was safe and secure. The buildings also kept most of his men out of sight while the others camped in a nearby grove and, to the extent possible, limited their movements to nighttime, when even the American predators slept.
As he started to walk the dirt path to the nearby village, Sakei was confident that American planes would not notice one man walking along one of the miserable excuses for roads that were so typical of Kyushu. He looked to his right and was dismayed by the sight of a score or so of his soldiers running in a single line across a field. It was probably a work group, and he made a mental note to find out who was in charge of them. He would give that unfortunate soul a harsh lesson in the virtues of staying out of sight during the day. Their officer probably thought it was safe to cut across the field since none of their hand-cranked sirens had gone off in a while, as they did several times each day to warn of American planes prowling the sky.
Sakei ignored the virtually omnipresent and high-flying bombers as they were off to bomb the cities and other major targets, but the swooping and darting fighters and dive-bombers were another matter. They were the ones that sniffed out the smaller targets and went after them like birds of prey after rodents in a field.
Sakei looked down the road and saw the man he wished to meet, Captain Onichi, the senior kempei officer in the area. In deference to the fuel shortage, the overweight captain rode a bicycle, with some difficulty, and a rare smile crossed Sakei's face. He had no love for the kempei, but the secret police, or "thought police," had their purpose. He could only wonder, however, just why the fat kempei captain wished to meet him under these private and discreet circumstances.
Before he could go farther, a dark shadow crossed over Sakei, and he heard the shriek of engines as the gust of air swirled dust around him. It was an American plane and it had passed just a few feet over his head.
He watched in horror as the work party scattered in blind panic with many of them heading for the presumed safety of the shrine buildings. Perhaps the plane hadn't seen them as it swept by, but then he remembered- the Americans never flew alone.
The second plane roared overhead with its guns spitting at the prey the first one had flushed. Rows of dirt exploded in the field, sending soldiers tumbling and flying, landing in bloody heaps. Within seconds, the first plane returned and it strafed the shrine, while the second sliced bloody ribbons in the grove where so many of his men were bivouacked. Sakei could only hope that his men had made it to the protection of the numerous slit trenches dug in the area.
In the grove, a soldier with more bravery than sense fired on the Yanks with a machine gun and drew the attention of a fighter, which silenced it with one savage burst of gunfire.
Sakei lay by the road as the planes made repeated passes in an arrogantly leisurely and lethal manner. For long minutes there would be relative silence, with only the distant whine of the planes' engines and the cries of the wounded to be heard. Then the screech of the fighters and the cacophonous chatter of machine guns as they sought targets became deafening. At least there were no bombs or rockets. The racks under the planes were empty. They had been dropped on targets elsewhere.
After a while, the planes bored of the game and flew off, or perhaps they were out of ammo. Sakei got to his feet and ran toward the priest's quarters. If Hirohito was dead, Sakei would have failed in his duty and the missing Crown Prince Akihito would be emperor. It could not be!
It wasn't. Sakei found Hirohito in the doorway to his quarters. He was covered with dirt and his glasses were askew, but he seemed unharmed, although obviously shaken. He heard from a noncom that the emperor, on hearing the attacking planes, had virtually flown into a trench to save himself. Sakei was pleased. Let the Son of Heaven know a soldier's fear.
Hirohito dusted himself off and acknowledged Sakei's existence. "Ah, Colonel, another Japanese victory, is it not? Very soon the Yanks will run out of bullets and surrender, won't they? After all, that is Anami's plan, isn't it?"
Sakei bowed respectfully and ignored the sarcasm. This time Hirohito was right. Japan had no roof to deflect the rain of American bombs and bullets. "I am glad you are unharmed."