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Hirohito sighed deeply and for a moment Nomura thought he was in pain. "When I became emperor in 1926, I named my reign showa, which means 'enlightened peace.' I never thought it would come to this. This war must be concluded."

Joe Nomura bowed in deepest respect. "It will end, sir."

"Captain," Hirohito said sternly, "I meant what I said about not being treated as a prisoner. If my people perceive that I am in shackles or held against my will, they will disown me, and all my efforts will come to naught. You must make your superiors understand that."

"I will, sir." Nomura had no idea if he could accomplish that. He only hoped that his superiors would figure it out for themselves.

"One other thing, Captain."

"Sir?"

Hirohito smiled briefly. "You gave in far too easily. I have no idea how or where the ordinary Japanese people are vaccinated."

Chapter 61

As he stepped out into the cold and damp December air, Truman waved to the onlookers and began his morning walk. The streets of Washington were busy with vehicular and pedestrian traffic. Dressed in suit, overcoat, and snap-brim hat, Truman made it an almost daily ritual that delighted spectators almost as much as it tickled him.

As he moved out briskly at a pace that would daunt a soldier, Secret Service agents took up their places around the president while a gaggle of reporters and the just plain curious trailed behind. In all, the ad hoc parade consisted of about fifty people. It amused Truman that so many of the older print and radio reporters had declined to even try to keep up with him. Now it was the young pups such as Brinkley, Sevareid, and Rooney who tried to keep pace with a man who knew he was in excellent physical condition and proved it with astonishing frequency. It tickled Truman that the heavy boozers and incessant smokers among the journalists had all been walked into the ground.

Today he had exited the White House on Pennsylvania Avenue. He would walk down Fifteenth Street to where it rejoined Pennsylvania and then to the Capitol, loop around to Independence Avenue, and finally back to the White House by way of Seventeenth Street. It was several solid miles of walking and it would feel good. Somehow life always became easier when he managed to get in some exercise.

"Mr. President, any further comment on the prisoner of war lists?"

One of the more unusual aspects of Truman's daily walks was that the reporters keeping up with him could ask him any questions they wished. Of course, he didn't have to answer, or, if he did, he could frame the answer any way he wished. Harry Truman had long ago figured out that the question-and-answer game could be worked both ways.

"As I've said, boys," he responded solemnly, "the list is a cruel delusion and only goes to show what a hard and unreasonable foe we're fighting. It sickened me when they listed as living so many young men we knew were dead. That it gave false hopes to people back home was a terrible thing for the Japanese to do."

The list had been given by the Japanese to the Swedish embassy, who had turned it over to the Reuters News Agency. It contained the names of people who were known to have died in the campaigns or had already been liberated and appeared to presume that no one had died in Japanese camps. Many other names were suspected of being fictitious.

"As to the young men they've put in jeopardy by placing them in danger areas," Truman continued, "well, the rules of war say they are responsible for our men's safety. If they do not make a reasonable effort to protect the Allied servicemen they have as prisoners, then they are criminally liable."

He didn't add that the condition of those who would be liberated was likely to be ghastly at best.

"Mr. President, there are rumors that the British are working on a separate peace with the Japs. How would that affect the war?"

Truman returned a friendly wave from a black woman standing by the curb. "The war in the Pacific is an almost all-American effort. If the Brits do decide it is in their best interests to make peace, then there's nothing we can do to stop it."

However, Truman knew it was highly unlikely. The British needed American help to get to Hong Kong, and the Japanese there had already reached an accommodation with the Russians and didn't need one with the British. A local truce with the commandant at Hong Kong was possible, but nothing that would end the alliance with the United States.

"What about the revolts in the Holy Land? Is it true that we'll be sending troops to help the English keep order?"

Truman shook his head. "They haven't asked for our help yet, although I might look favorably on such a request. We cannot have Muslims and Jews killing each other. It is inconceivable to me that survivors of the Holocaust cannot find peace in the Holy Land."

The announcement that Britain was going to open up Jewish immigration to Palestine had caused an unexpectedly serious explosion among the indigenous Muslim population. Hundreds had been killed in rioting, and the cities of the Holy Land were burning. Anti-American sentiment in Arab countries was at an all-time high.

In Palestine itself, British forces were hard-pressed to keep order, and there were indications they favored the Muslims anyhow. Truman had already decided that the British might be getting help from American forces now in Europe whether they wanted it or not.

"What's being done to stop the Russians?"

Good question, Truman thought. He avoided a direct answer by laughing and making small talk with a startled group of passersby. In fact, the Soviets were taking over everywhere their tanks were parked. Poland was gone, and East Germany was occupied as was part of Austria. Hungary and Czechoslovakia were tottering, while Bulgaria and Romania were already solidly allied with Stalin. Only in Greece had the Reds been halted, and there appeared to be a curious situation developing in Yugoslavia as the Yugoslavs under Tito seemed to be marching to a different Communist drummer.

The reporter persisted, "Sir, what additional is going to be done to help Chiang?"

This one he could answer. "We are continuing to send him supplies. Short of sending him troops, which we are not in a position to do, there is little else that can be done. He's going to have to fight his battle himself."

The reporter nodded and took notes. Truman had intentionally confirmed the obvious- China was going Communist and there wasn't a damn thing anybody could do about it. Even the most aggravating of the congressmen in the China Lobby now accepted that fact, although their public pronouncements said otherwise.

"Mr. President, what about the rumors of Jap peace feelers? Is there anything to them?"

"No," he snapped. "There are no true peace feelers. Any so-called peace feelers are the same as before the Anami coup in August. That is, they are from well-intentioned Japanese civilians, mainly low-ranking diplomats who are stationed in Europe. They personally wish peace but have no control or influence over the actions of their military government."

Truman was personally convinced that most of the people in Japan were heartily sick of the war. If only they could be reached, he thought, but he was convinced it was hopeless. The Anami government controlled the military, and the military controlled Japan.

"Mr. President, when will we invade Honshu?"

Truman laughed heartily. The reporter flushed and grinned back. "Do you really expect me to answer that question?" Truman said.

"No, sir, but would you comment on the progress of the fighting on Kyushu?"

Truman paused again to shake a few hands. A tourist took his picture with a Kodak. "Any fighting is awful, and this is extremely hard, particularly since the war should have ended months ago. However, our boys are continuing to make progress."