Part 2 (2/2)

But not today, Nimitz thought.

”You come by for a shot of bourbon, General? Or maybe some dinner?”

LeMay didn't smile, nodded.

”Dinner. That's good. I thought you might like to see the reports from Tokyo. Recon flights confirm what I predicted. I turned that place into one big d.a.m.n cow pasture.”

Nimitz glanced at the Marine sergeant, who seemed to perk up at the words.

”Let's take this inside, General. I'm getting too old for the heat. My cook's supposed to be throwing together some fish recipe he picked up from the natives. Top-notch, if you don't mind some spice.”

”That'll do. Lead the way. Anything you got here has to beat the slop your supply boys throw my way. Not as bad as MacArthur though, I'll give you that. His people spend more time trying to poison us than feed us.”

Nimitz knew better than to open that door, thought, let it go. He has a permanent bone up his a.s.s for MacArthur, and I don't really want to hear about it. I hear enough of that as it is.

”You could have sent the reports over here, you know. No need to deliver them yourself.”

LeMay sipped from the gla.s.s, seemed to appraise Nimitz's liquid offering.

”No chance. I wanted you to hear it from me, not some a.s.s-kissing toad who thinks being a messenger will get him a medal.” LeMay paused. ”Word is, your boys are rationed a bottle of booze a week and a case of beer to boot. We don't get a d.a.m.n drop. No alcohol ration at all. Not your doing, I guess. Someone back in Was.h.i.+ngton thinks air boys don't need any favors.” LeMay tipped up the gla.s.s, emptied it, appraised again, nodded slowly. ”Good stuff. Hate to see somebody in my command do a commando raid on your supply depot, liberate a few hundred cases of this stuff.” He stared at Nimitz, still no smile. ”Just kidding.”

”So. Reports? Photos?”

”Right here.” LeMay held the folder in his hand, hesitated, looked at Nimitz again. ”Bomb 'em and burn 'em until they quit. That's been my motto and my strategy since I earned this command. So, here, Admiral. Take a look at this.” LeMay took a long, self-satisfied breath, and Nimitz knew the presentation had been well rehea.r.s.ed.

”On nine March we threw two hundred seventy-nine Superforts right into Tokyo. I took a new approach, ordered them in at night, flying low, under ten thousand feet. My boys weren't too happy about that, thought the j.a.p anti-aircraft fire would chew them to bits. But I knew better. Coming in that low, a few planes at a time, would catch the yellow b.a.s.t.a.r.ds with their pants down. They wouldn't know what the h.e.l.l to do. For whatever reason, they don't seem to have the kind of ack-ack the Germans threw at us, don't seem able to adapt to different attack alt.i.tudes. I had to convince my boys that the advantages outweighed the risk. Even persuaded them to make room for more payload by reducing weight. Thought it would be a good idea to remove most of the machine guns, and the gunners too. j.a.p fighters haven't done much damage to us in night raids, so what the h.e.l.l do we need all that extra weight for? The boys weren't too keen on that, but I convinced them.”

Nimitz thought, you didn't convince anybody of anything. You just ordered them to do whatever the h.e.l.l you wanted.

LeMay continued.

”The low alt.i.tude gave the B-29s a greater bomb capacity, and I loaded up those sons of b.i.t.c.hes with incendiaries. No more of this high-alt.i.tude tiddlywinks, playing hit-and-miss with targets that are too far below us to pinpoint. This time we didn't need to pinpoint anything. The target was the whole d.a.m.n city. Hard to miss that one.” He slapped a folder of papers against his leg. ”It worked too. We should have been doing this to those Nip b.a.s.t.a.r.ds from the beginning. We've gutted Germany's war machine, and now we're doing it to the j.a.ps. But this is even better. You know what their d.a.m.n cities are made out of? Paper and wood. I wish I'd have seen it myself, especially at night. Had to settle for the recon reports, but I've got 'em right here. In the last ten days, we've incinerated what looks to be fifteen or sixteen square miles of the j.a.panese capital. Incinerated. Gone. Flat d.a.m.n ground. We have to a.s.sume that the number of enemy casualties is in the high tens of thousands, maybe double that. They're not likely to give us that information on their own. But dammit, Admiral, this is how the war ought to be fought. It worked in Germany and it's working here. Problem is, I'm having trouble getting an adequate supply of incendiaries from the mainland. d.a.m.n pestiferous supply b.a.s.t.a.r.ds keep telling me that the factories can't produce them as quick as I'm dropping them. What a load of c.r.a.p. Some a.s.ses back home need to be kicked.”

LeMay tossed the file on the table, reached for his cigar, resting on the nearby ashtray. He jabbed the cigar in his mouth, sat back with a self-satisfied grin, a rarity.

”Learning to smoke these things. Not bad. Prefer a pipe, but can't keep the mold off 'em out here in this tropical h.e.l.lhole.”

Nimitz ignored the cigar smoke, pulled the folder close, opened, saw the reports, the number of sorties each night, the bomb loads, and then high-alt.i.tude recon photos of the aftermath, the enormous city showing a great gray stain, as though one large hand had simply wiped it away. My G.o.d, he thought. How many civilians? He knew LeMay wouldn't listen to any lecture about casualties, and Nimitz had already heard intelligence reports about j.a.panese factories spread all through civilian neighborhoods. LeMay knows that too, he thought. So, who do we blame? He's right on that count. They are all the enemy.

LeMay seemed to wait for the pat on the back, and Nimitz sat back in the chair, sipped the bourbon.

”Amazing. Impressive.”

”You bet your a.s.s it's impressive. I don't know what the h.e.l.l's going on in Was.h.i.+ngton, rather not know. But Hap Arnold needs to shove this report and these photos under every face in the War Department, maybe give FDR a good look too. I'm so d.a.m.n sick of ...” He paused, seemed to catch himself.

”Sick of what, General?”

LeMay's face curled into a hard, silent growl.

”You know as well as I do that we should have pa.s.sed by the d.a.m.n Philippines and put all our energy right into j.a.pan. You know that, don't you? MacArthur is wasting time and men and supplies to liberate his private little kingdom. He's taken months away from our timetables, when you know d.a.m.n well that if he had given you his people, his s.h.i.+ps, his planes, you'd be kicking down Hirohito's palace door by now.”

Nimitz knew that if LeMay was smoking that same cigar in front of MacArthur, it would be Nimitz who was being blasted for whatever incompetence LeMay felt like blasting. Nimitz said slowly, ”Whether I agreed with the War Department's decision to go along with Doug's invasion of the Philippines isn't as important now as what he's accomplished there. I've gotten word that Manila is in his hands, that the j.a.ps are routed pretty badly. The harbor is usable, and we're moving supplies in there as quick as we can. I'm used to him getting the headlines. All the headlines. He needs it. Fortunately for me, strutting across a stage on Broadway has never been my ambition.”

”Oh, there's only one stage, Admiral. Doug won't allow anyone else up there, you can be sure of that. But this war would be over ...”

”You don't know that. h.e.l.l, the war's not even over on Guam. Right up in those hills, there are j.a.ps who still haven't given up, who are dedicated to fight and die for their emperor. I sure as h.e.l.l don't understand that, but then, it doesn't matter whether I understand the j.a.p brain at all. My job, and yours, is to kill as many of them as we can, and by doing so, end this war.” He raised the file of papers. ”I give you credit, General, this is impressive as h.e.l.l. But even this isn't going to make those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds surrender. Every transmission, everything we intercept says they're going to go down swinging. We know d.a.m.n well they're running out of gasoline and rubber and steel, but try telling that to those poor sons of b.i.t.c.hes on Iwo Jima, or Peleliu. Or right here. We had a squad ambushed a mile up in those hills two nights ago. Four men didn't make it. Try telling their families, oh, well, h.e.l.l, the j.a.p is beat. Any day now he's gonna throw up the white flag.”

LeMay shook his head.

”I don't disagree with you, Admiral. The j.a.panese is a different breed, nothing like the German, nothing we've ever fought before. MacArthur thinks he can intimidate the j.a.ps into ending this war. Never happen. You can't intimidate a fanatic into doing a d.a.m.n thing. That's why I keep telling Arnold and anyone else who'll listen that the only way to end this war is to wipe those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds off this earth. I appreciate what your web-foots ... what your boys have done by blowing h.e.l.l out of their merchant s.h.i.+ps. Fine, you starve 'em, all you can. That's your job, isn't it? You're, what? Ten days away from hitting Okinawa? I've been ordered to give you all the help you need, whether I think there's a better way or not. I do need those airstrips, for two reasons. We're still losing too many B-29s who have to ditch on the trip back home. Okinawa is that much closer, helps us a h.e.l.l of a lot if my boys need to put down in a hurry. And once you give me those strips, we can put a thousand more fighters close enough to make strafing runs on those j.a.p b.a.s.t.a.r.ds in their own beds. By adding fighter escorts around the B-29s, there's not a Zero that'll get anywhere close, and we'll have full dominance over every square inch of j.a.pan. But ...” His voice was rising, the usual show Nimitz was accustomed to. LeMay paused, the hard scowl unchanging, his anger adding fuel to the hiss in his words.

”I need supplies. Incendiaries. For now, all I've got is steel, and we've already figured out that TNT doesn't do c.r.a.p to j.a.p positions. I'll bomb anyplace you want me to with steel, but once I get those incendiaries, I'm going back to work on those j.a.p cities. If MacArthur wasn't out there fighting his own d.a.m.n war ... if he'd have pushed toward Okinawa instead of Manila, linked up with you, made a combined effort ...”

Nimitz knew it was time to throw the leash.

”Let it go, General. The plans were put in the books months ago. I've had too many arguments with Was.h.i.+ngton about strategy, and when it comes to Okinawa, I've got the backing to do the job I want to do. Five days ago, Iwo Jima fell into our pocket, and it won't take long before you'll have your airstrips there in top shape. I'm heading out there in a couple days, see it for myself. We took some h.e.l.lacious casualties there, and I need to pat some people on the back. With all due respect, General, right now my attention is on the men who have to cross those beaches. And the next beaches we're hitting are on Okinawa.”

”I told them we should have used gas. Still can.”

Nimitz knew this conversation too well. It had begun with a loud call coming from newspapers in the States that poison gas would quite simply save American lives.

”Not on my watch, General. Until the president tells me he's tossed the Geneva Convention in the c.r.a.pper, gas is not an option. You already know that.”

LeMay nodded.

”It would work. Pretty sure of that. But, fine. Just ... if there's anybody you can talk to ... Admiral King, Forrestal, h.e.l.l, William Randolph Hearst, I don't care. Find a way to get me some more incendiaries.”

Nimitz was growing weary of LeMay's surly energy.

”How about I find a way to get you those airbases closer to j.a.pan? Right now there are several thousand j.a.p planes anch.o.r.ed on Formosa and Kyushu, and G.o.d knows where else, and every d.a.m.n one of them is fired up to go out in some asinine blaze of glory. I'm scared as h.e.l.l of those kamikaze strikes. You hear what they did to the Franklin?”

LeMay shook his head, still scowling, and Nimitz said, ”I just received the report this morning, General. The j.a.ps took a h.e.l.l of a swipe at us, after you bombed those airfields on Kyushu.” Nimitz felt his own heat rising. ”Five carriers took direct hits from those sons of b.i.t.c.hes. But the Franklin got it the worst. More than seven hundred sailors were lost, blown to bits, burned to h.e.l.l. So, if you're having trouble getting incendiaries, then use high explosives and give me a hand somewhere besides Tokyo. Just because you can beat the h.e.l.l out of somebody doesn't mean you should. The j.a.p civilians aren't our priority right now. The j.a.p troops waiting for us on Okinawa are. I don't want my boys going across those beaches worried about what's about to drop on them from the air. You want air superiority? So do I. So let's start by giving it to those boys who have to worry more about j.a.p bayonets than j.a.p fighter planes. I'm authorized to call upon you for B-29 support, and I'm doing just that. Put your people over those j.a.p airbases, drop a thousand mines in the j.a.p harbors, keep their wars.h.i.+ps the h.e.l.l out of our way.”

LeMay seemed to sulk.

”No B-29 is going to stop any d.a.m.n kamikaze. We blow h.e.l.l out of their airfields, and they take their Zeroes or their crop dusters or whatever the h.e.l.l else they're using back into the brush, hide 'em until we're done. I've seen those reports too. We bust up an airfield, and slave labor fills in the holes the next day.”

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