After tea was drunk and the amenities observed, Homma brought out some rice brandy that a local entrepreneur had made. If not good, it was at least potent. Ozawa smacked his lips in appreciation, then leaned forward and smiled slyly. "Should I congratulate you or offer condolences, my friend?"
Homma chuckled. "A little of both would be in order."
As a result of the death of Field Marshal Hata in the latest nuclear bombing, the army commands had been reorganized. General Homma had been recalled from exile and given command of the Twelfth Area Army, which encompassed Tokyo and most of the area surrounding it.
"At least you have an army," Ozawa said softly. "While I have no surface ships at all. The last destroyer was sunk a couple of days ago. A few submarines remain, but the enormous American fleet is largely unmolested. My trips to headquarters are little more than exercises in futility."
"Good friend," Homma replied, "the truth is that my situation is as bad as yours. The Twelfth Area Army largely exists on paper and in the confused mind of General Anami. Once it consisted of eighteen infantry and two armored divisions, but it now lists but eight infantry and one armored, and these are but terribly depleted shadows of themselves. The other divisions have been sent to the slaughterhouse in Kyushu, while the remaining units have been stripped by transfers and then pounded to pieces by the ever-present American planes. I doubt that I could field fifty thousand trained men and twenty tanks. My soldiers cower in their bunkers all over the Kanto Plain. It would be virtually impossible for me to assemble them into a true fighting force under the circumstances. For all intents and purposes, Tokyo is undefended by the Japanese army."
Ozawa was shocked. "I had no idea it was so bad."
"Nor did I. Until my recent appointment, I was uninformed of the situation. It is the same elsewhere on the home islands. The Fifth Army on Hokkaido has been reduced from five divisions to two, the Eleventh north of here from six divisions to one, the Thirteenth to my south from six to two, and the Fifteenth, which is adjacent to Kyushu, from eight to three. Large numbers of civilian militia have been formed, but they are unarmed and untrained. They will be useless when the Americans come."
"Is it possible that they won't come?" Ozawa asked hopefully, even though he knew the dreaded answer.
"They will come. It is only a matter of time. Anami thinks otherwise of course. He feels that the recent slowdown in American operations on Kyushu means they have been defeated, or at least so bloodied that they have no will to continue. Anami feels the time is ripe for a counterattack that will drive the Americans back into the ocean. Another Decisive Battle, he says, and the war will be won to the extent that we can have a negotiated peace with honor."
Ozawa laughed in derision. "A Decisive Battle? Just how many of those will we fight? Pearl Harbor was a Decisive Battle, as were Midway, Leyte, a number of others. Leyte Gulf was supposed to be the battle that ended the war and it almost did. We lost what was left of our navy in it! What a fool he is to believe in that discredited doctrine!"
As the smaller nation, Japan had always looked for a way to deliver a knockout blow against the overwhelming might of the Americans. The naval war had been predicated on sucking the American fleet into a decisive battle with the Japanese fleet off Japan that would end in an overwhelming victory for Japan. It was a shame the Americans hadn't cooperated, Ozawa thought ruefully.
Homma poured a little more brandy. "Major Hori, who has been so successful in anticipating American actions, told Anami the Americans have not been defeated. Instead, Hori feels they have taken all they require of Kyushu for use as a staging area and are now preparing to invade south of Tokyo. For the first time, Anami disagreed with Hori and sent him away after a tongue-lashing. I agree with Hori. The Americans will invade Honshu and will do it soon."
A plane flew low over the house, and the frail structure began to shake. Both men looked at each other as they recognized the now distinctive growl of an American P-51. It was so symbolic of their total helplessness that an American fighter could gaze down on them from only a few hundred feet and nothing could be done about it.
"Admiral, so many of the fine young men we've sent to Kyushu have been killed or wounded in the fighting, while many others never even made it to the cursed island. It is a closely guarded secret, but only about half the men sent on the journey ever arrive. The American planes kill them en route or sink their boats in the straits. The same is happening with the men we are trying to bring from Korea. The slaughter of the young is incredible. An entire generation of Japanese men is being destroyed. If we do not end this, we will be like France was after the last war. Emasculated."
Ozawa thought for a moment. There was something he had to say, but it had to be said carefully. "In your opinion, is the military situation hopeless?"
"Yes."
"Is nothing going right for us?"
"Well, the Americans haven't quite figured it out, but with our hidden airstrips on Kyushu just a few miles behind the front lines, suicide attacks are no longer as necessary as they had been. The planes can actually load up with bombs and return without too much difficulty. Many now fly but a few feet off the ground, bomb, and return to their hideouts. American supplies are in such abundance that it is virtually impossible for even the most inexperienced pilot to miss dropping a bomb on something important. Our fliers will not resume actual suicide attacks until the counterattack, which will not come until the weather grounds the American planes."
"But what about the secret weapons? Are they but rumors?"
Homma shook his head. "Some of them are real, but may bring more harm to Japan than to the Americans. We have quantities of poison gas and plague germs to use against them, but I fear for American retaliation, which could utterly destroy what little remains of Japan."
Gas? Germs? Ozawa was appalled. What kind of war was Anami waging? Ozawa's voice nearly broke in despair. "Is there nothing we can do?"
Homma laughed harshly and took the leap of faith that Ozawa was with him. "Are you suggesting a coup?"
"Why not? That's how Anami came to power, isn't it? It would be justice to turn the tables on that drunken buffoon."
"Indeed, but Anami has the emperor and claims to speak for him. As long as that is the case, any coup would be ignored. Besides, Anami has surrounded himself with those loyal to him and they are not under my command. He is very careful and trusts very few in the army. Myself, I am watched very closely when I am near his headquarters. I believe I was chosen for my current assignment because I was available, not out of any great confidence in my abilities or in my loyalty."
Interesting, thought Ozawa. "Where is the emperor? We've heard rumors, but what is the truth?"
"The emperor is at some undisclosed place on Kyushu. Incredibly, he was sent there before the invasion because it was deemed safer than Tokyo. It is now considered too dangerous to try and bring him back."
"Amazing," the admiral commented. "So we will continue to fight until the last young man is dead and until the Americans have stormed the Imperial Palace. But what if we found the emperor and he announced a desire for peace?"
"Then much would be changed, my friend. Perhaps what remains of Japan could even be saved."
They spoke for a while longer, this time of families and friends, many of them recently dead. Much later, the admiral departed and Homma fervently wished him a safe journey.
Homma went to his bedroom, undressed, and lay down on his back on the sleeping mat. Fujito came and knelt beside him. She was his second wife and younger than he. She was one person who had brought stability to his otherwise wild and erratic youth. She was priceless to him. Without her, he would have wound up an irresponsible and drunken fool.