As to minority soldiers, MacArthur simply didn't think they would fight well. Roosevelt, doubtless egged on by his aggravating wife, Eleanor, had felt they should be incorporated into the army as fighting men, instead of supply soldiers and laborers, which was their normal use. Truman now supported this incredible idea as well, to MacArthur's astonishment. MacArthur felt that he could understand the political logic and the urgency to widen the population base from which the soldiers were drawn, but he could not permit this to happen to the detriment of his army. Negroes, while fine fellows in their own way, were simply not cut out to be warriors. He had put his foot down before and would do it again. There would be no Negroes in the front lines in the invasion of Japan.
Of course, and MacArthur smiled at the thought, if Eisenhower wanted them in Europe and if that freed up white soldiers to fight in Japan, well, that was fine by him. MacArthur recalled Ike as being a fine chief of staff for him, but he now was one of Marshall's boys and, therefore, part of the cabal against him.
It further pleased MacArthur that he had kept the despised Office of Strategic Services, the OSS, out of his area of operations. He'd heard that they'd done well in Europe, but doubted it. He despised amateurs and that's all they were. Imagine, they'd wanted to use some of his several hundred nisei translators as espionage agents and spies to be inserted into Japan. No, he'd answered. Once there, it was too likely they'd go over to the Japanese side. Let his nisei stay in Australia where they could be watched.
If the OSS, through the navy, wished to send in Japanese Americans, then let them find their own qualified people and run the risk of losing them. He would not help the navy. MacArthur had heard reports that the OSS had managed to land one man, who had done some good, and were following up with others, but they would not use his tame Japanese in the ensuing battles.
Douglas MacArthur was not afraid of the outcome of combat. He accepted that he was far braver than most men. It was not that he was without fear; indeed, he knew it and despised what it could do to a man. But he was able to control it, even conquer it.
Bravery was something that came quite naturally to MacArthur. He'd first seen combat during the 1914 punitive expedition to Vera Cruz, Mexico, where he'd pistoled at least a half dozen Mexican soldiers. He'd been nominated for the Medal of Honor, but denied it because his one-man patrol hadn't been authorized. It had been the first in a long line of personal affronts against him by bureaucrats in Washington. Later, he'd been decorated in World War I and had, of course, been unperturbable under fire several times during the current conflict. Thus, it galled him mightily when people cast doubts on his manhood and courage. He'd thought of personally berating the sailor, but decided it would be useless. Let them judge him on the basis of the victory that would surely come.
MacArthur looked out on one of the several destroyers escorting the Augusta. The heavy cruiser was the center of its own small task force, and his presence on her caused four additional warships to be detailed to protect both him and the Augusta. Someday soon, one of his political enemies would make comments about that, but American ships no longer traveled alone. The catastrophic sinking of the Indianapolis was too fresh on everyone's mind. Even if he hadn't been on board the cruiser, she would not be alone.
MacArthur had heard muted criticism regarding his choosing the Augusta in the first place. The whispers said that he wanted the Augusta because two presidents had sailed on her. What foolishness! He'd selected the Augusta because it had been configured to handle an admiral's staff, which meant it could house his. Admiral Nimitz had suggested they share the resources of Nimitz's command ship, the Wasatch. MacArthur, while appreciating the gesture, had demurred. He'd feared that his presence on the Wasatch would look as if he were under Nimitz's command when the command was actually shared by the two men.
On the other hand, there was no reason for the Augusta to be so far from Japan. They were a full hundred miles behind the fleet, which itself stretched for scores of miles, and this was not what he'd had in mind when he'd voiced the wish to be closer to the battlefields. He would tell Admiral Nimitz it was essential that the Augusta move much closer to Japan.
MacArthur thought and smiled. He would direct that the Augusta be stationed off Ariake Bay; thus, when circumstances permitted, he would be ready to go ashore on Japanese soil at the first opportunity. Wouldn't Gen. George Catlett Marshall like that!
MacArthur chuckled deeply at the picture. Some damn Republicans had contacted him about a presidential candidacy in 1948 against what they presumed would be that country nitwit, Harry Truman. A triumphal entry onto Japanese territory would help that cause, and the cause of America, immensely.
Now, if the Japanese army would only cooperate and begin to shatter. He sighed and bit down on the stem of his unlit corncob pipe. It was incredible that the Japs were still fighting. They had few weapons, fewer supplies, rudimentary organization, primitive communications, and poor leaders. He had to give the Japanese soldier a warrior's credit for being personally quite brave, but they would ultimately be defeated. Then General of the Army Douglas MacArthur would have his revenge, both on the Japanese and on the coterie of enemies conspiring against him in Washington. Yes, he thought, and smiled again, it would be a pleasant time.
Chapter 36
Joe Nomura walked slowly and disconsolately down the dirt path that cut through the overgrown field. He was upset and frustrated. American armies were fighting desperately 150 miles south of him and he had done nothing lately to help them. He had continued his periodic reports, but there had been nothing new to report for a while.
There was still little food for the civilian population, and medicine was in even shorter supply. He had told his listeners that the average Japanese civilian was on the verge of starvation and disease and wanted the war to end, even if it meant surrender. He sometimes wondered if anyone important was actually getting his messages, or whether he was sending them into an electronic mine shaft.
The Japanese people had lost horribly in terms of their homes, their livelihoods, and the lives of their loved ones. The devastation of their cities, even those not atom-bombed, was virtually total. Work and travel were impossible. They cursed the American planes that flew overhead and bombed their homes and few remaining factories with almost contemptuous ease. In one way, the American invasion was a blessing for the Japanese civilians as it continued to siphon off large numbers of American warplanes.
The civilians he saw were sick at heart and discontented with the Anami government, which persisted in fighting a war they saw no way of winning. Strangely, this discontent did not reflect in a dislike for the vanished emperor. Virtually no one in Japan had ever heard Hirohito speak, so no one noticed his absence from the public forum. However, they did understand that Anami was in charge and that the military and the kempei backed Anami. Even with his own Japanese background Joe found it hard to understand their fatalism, but the civilians accepted the situation.
Joe had reported that large numbers of Japanese soldiers continued to infiltrate from north Kyushu to the south after either being shipped by submarine from Korea or having navigated the narrow straits between Honshu and Kyushu in swarms of small boats. He'd identified several major units originally stationed around Tokyo as having been switched to Kyushu, including several Imperial Guard divisions. It confirmed his opinion that Japan's major effort would be on Kyushu. He hadn't reported his opinion. Let the generals figure that out for themselves. He thought it was so obvious that they wouldn't need help from a lowly field operative to draw that conclusion.