Part 19 (1/2)

The Russians learned the hard way the importance of protecting their rear echelons. A medical company of 3rd Rifle Division was bivouacked on the night of 14 August when a kamikaze force stormed its positions. The weary Russians were asleep. j.a.panese were already dragging doctors and nurses out of a vehicle when the alarm was given. After a brief firefight the enemy retreated, taking with them three nurses. Their mutilated bodies, hacked to pieces, were found nearby. This episode, declared an angry Soviet report, was due to ”criminal carelessness900” by the officers responsible for ensuring their unit's security. A platoon of sub-machine gunners was detailed to provide protection for the medical team.

A key reality of the Manchurian campaign was that the defenders possessed no means of s.h.i.+fting forces in the face of total Russian air superiority and their own lack of vehicles. They were also critically short of anti-tank guns. Yet where the Russians were obliged to attack painstakingly constructed defensive positions, the j.a.panese resisted stubbornly and inflicted substantial losses. In the east, at the heavily fortified road junction of Mudanjiang, two j.a.panese divisions fought for two days against 1st Far Eastern Front. A j.a.panese soldier described the action there on 15 August:

As soon as our anti-tank guns901 had been silenced, about thirty enemy tanks appeared in front of 278th Regiment's main positions. They opened fire, inflicting heavy casualties, picking off the defenders one by one and destroying our heavy weapons...At about 1600 hours the regiment's telephone link with divisional headquarters was cut. Four enemy tanks were destroyed and five damaged. Soon afterwards, fifteen more tanks appeared in front of the division command post. A squad of five men from the Transport Unit, each armed with a 15-kilogram charge, launched a suicide attack on the leading elements, each man destroying one tank. On seeing this, the rest of the enemy armour hastily made off towards Sudaoling, and their accompanying infantry were also routed. had been silenced, about thirty enemy tanks appeared in front of 278th Regiment's main positions. They opened fire, inflicting heavy casualties, picking off the defenders one by one and destroying our heavy weapons...At about 1600 hours the regiment's telephone link with divisional headquarters was cut. Four enemy tanks were destroyed and five damaged. Soon afterwards, fifteen more tanks appeared in front of the division command post. A squad of five men from the Transport Unit, each armed with a 15-kilogram charge, launched a suicide attack on the leading elements, each man destroying one tank. On seeing this, the rest of the enemy armour hastily made off towards Sudaoling, and their accompanying infantry were also routed.

The respite persuaded the j.a.panese divisional staff to abandon plans for a final ”banzai” charge. They maintained a conventional defence for a time, hampered by the fact that their phone lines were cut and radios almost non-existent. On 16 August, a certain Major Ueda of the 278th Regiment arrived at headquarters before dawn to report that the rest of the division had withdrawn. His commanding officer, Colonel Hajma Yamanaka, said simply: ”I shall die here902. I shall not withdraw in the absence of an explicit order.” A few hours later, an overwhelming Russian tank and infantry force attacked their positions. At noon, Colonel Yamanaka respectfully bowed to the east, burned the regimental colour, rallied his survivors and led a counter-attack. When this failed, he and Major Ueda committed hara-kiri hara-kiri. j.a.panese accounts a.s.serted that the capture of Mudanjiang cost them 4,000 dead, while the Soviets claimed 40,000. The truth is probably somewhere in between. The Red Army reckoned that this one battle accounted for half its total losses in Manchuria, including scores of tanks.

The city was cleared only on the evening of 16 August. Many j.a.panese never learned that they had been ordered to withdraw, and fought to the death. Over-ambitious Soviet spearheads, racing ahead, suffered severely from local counterattacks, but by 20 August they had reached Harbin. Organised resistance in North Korea, overrun by 1st Far Eastern Front, ended on 16 August. Some j.a.panese units, however, continued fighting for a further ten days. The Russians were grudgingly impressed by the fas.h.i.+on in which enemy strongpoints refused quarter, and had to be reduced by piecemeal bombardment and infantry attack. In the words of David Glantz, foremost Western historian of the campaign: ”The defending troops in the j.a.panese fortified regions903 put up a tenacious, brave yet meaningless defense...Garrisons fought to the point of exhaustion or extermination.” put up a tenacious, brave yet meaningless defense...Garrisons fought to the point of exhaustion or extermination.”

BOTH WITHIN and without Manchuria, the Chinese received news of Stalin's onslaught with mixed feelings. In the first days, local people greeted the Russian armies enthusiastically. Victor Kosopalov's unit was delighted to be met in each village by peasants proffering buckets of springwater: ”It was so hot and without Manchuria, the Chinese received news of Stalin's onslaught with mixed feelings. In the first days, local people greeted the Russian armies enthusiastically. Victor Kosopalov's unit was delighted to be met in each village by peasants proffering buckets of springwater: ”It was so hot904 and we were so thirsty-this was the most welcome delicacy they could have given us.” Russian soldiers contemplating a flooded torrent were amazed when Chinese on the far bank leapt into the river and swam across to meet their liberators, carrying ropes to facilitate a crossing. Thousands of others went to work alongside Soviet sappers, repairing dams blown by the j.a.panese. Peasants gave warnings of ambushes. ”When we entered the city of Vanemiao and we were so thirsty-this was the most welcome delicacy they could have given us.” Russian soldiers contemplating a flooded torrent were amazed when Chinese on the far bank leapt into the river and swam across to meet their liberators, carrying ropes to facilitate a crossing. Thousands of others went to work alongside Soviet sappers, repairing dams blown by the j.a.panese. Peasants gave warnings of ambushes. ”When we entered the city of Vanemiao905,” said Oleg Smirnov, ”the Chinese welcomed us with cries of 'Shango!' and ' and 'Vansui!'-'10,000 years of life to you.' They were waving red flags and almost jumping onto our tank tracks.” In reality, local people were most likely crying ”Zhongguo wansui!”-”Long live China!”-but Smirnov and his comrades were not to know that.

On the Pacific coast, Russian naval infantry launched amphibious a.s.saults to take the towns of Unggi and Najin on 11 and 12 August, and at Chongjin four days later. Even after the defenders were forced out, many continued fighting in the surrounding hills. Units of the Soviet 2nd Far East Front still faced heavy counter-attacks on 1516 August. Russian wars.h.i.+ps found themselves duelling with an armoured train ash.o.r.e. Fighting for Chongjin ended only late on 16 August, when troops of the Russian 25th Army arrived overland to meet the naval infantry.

The emperor Pu Yi's train approached Meheguo on 12 August. The Guandong Army's commander, Yamada, boarded the imperial carriage to report that j.a.panese forces were everywhere victorious. His a.s.surances were immediately belied by the spectacle of crowds of screaming j.a.panese fugitives of all ages and both s.e.xes, brawling soldiers and police, at Jelin station. Next day, the emperor arrived at Dalizikou, a coal-mining community set among beautiful mountains. Here, through two days of terror, Pu Yi and his bedraggled little party waited on events, and his fate.

It was plain that j.a.pan was defeated, but it seemed much less obvious what would follow. ”Most of us knew that Stalin906 was doing this for his own reasons,” said Chinese Nationalist captain Luo Dingwen. ”We had no reason to love or trust the Russians.” Xu Guiming was a Chinese clerk at the j.a.panese Propaganda Bureau in the town of Aihni, on the Manchurian side of the Amur River, now in the Soviet 2nd Far Eastern Front's sector. He lived a few hundred yards from the office building, in a courtyard occupied by three families. There was his own, and that of Zeng, another clerk in the Propaganda Bureau. The third family was that of their landlord, a rich Muslim named Mr. Chen who owned ten cows and was customarily so deep in an opium-induced stupor that events of war and peace pa.s.sed him by. On the evening of 9 August, a telephone rang in the courtyard. It was the Propaganda Bureau. All its employees were to report to the office immediately, to receive vital news. was doing this for his own reasons,” said Chinese Nationalist captain Luo Dingwen. ”We had no reason to love or trust the Russians.” Xu Guiming was a Chinese clerk at the j.a.panese Propaganda Bureau in the town of Aihni, on the Manchurian side of the Amur River, now in the Soviet 2nd Far Eastern Front's sector. He lived a few hundred yards from the office building, in a courtyard occupied by three families. There was his own, and that of Zeng, another clerk in the Propaganda Bureau. The third family was that of their landlord, a rich Muslim named Mr. Chen who owned ten cows and was customarily so deep in an opium-induced stupor that events of war and peace pa.s.sed him by. On the evening of 9 August, a telephone rang in the courtyard. It was the Propaganda Bureau. All its employees were to report to the office immediately, to receive vital news.

Xu reached the squat three-storey building to find j.a.panese scurrying hither and thither with piles of doc.u.ments, which they were hurling onto a huge bonfire. Inside, the staff a.s.sembled. The director announced that he had received information that Russian forces had crossed the border into Manchuria. Everyone must leave the town by next afternoon. The j.a.panese staff bowed their heads in abject misery. Xu felt no emotion, for nothing about his employers commanded his sympathy. They all queued to receive three months' salary apiece, then returned home as their workplace was put to the torch.

In the courtyard, Xu found his neighbour Zeng exploiting his owners.h.i.+p of four ponies to flee with his wife, children and what little they could carry. Xu discussed the situation with his own family, which included a brother and a.s.sorted children. They decided to seek shelter nearby. By the time they had taken themselves into the fields, darkness had fallen. Exhausted, they huddled together into a slumber which lasted well past dawn. Daylight revealed that while about half Aihni's 20,000 population had fled further afield, many inhabitants like themselves had chosen to remain, watching events which soon unfolded. A procession of Soviet gunboats appeared, steaming steadily downriver. They opened fire, raking the sh.o.r.eline and pouring sh.e.l.ls into the nearby railway station. To and fro the guns ranged, killing an old woman and a cow not far from Xu. Then, as Russian marines began to storm ash.o.r.e, the head of the local labour union advanced to meet them. ”Welcome to the north-east,” said this rather brave Chinese. He told the Russians that all the j.a.panese had gone, and that there were no weapons in the town. Some 4,000 j.a.panese troops held out nearby, however, surrendering only on 20 August.

THE DAYS and weeks that followed the Russian occupation were a brutal shock to the ”liberated” people of Aihni. They witnessed their share of the orgy of rape and destruction which overtook Manchuria. On 13 August, Xu Guiming saw two Russian soldiers accost in the street a local girl named Zhang-half-Russian, half-Chinese, like many people of the region. ”We reckon you owe us one,” they said, throwing her to the ground. One man held her down while the other bestrode her, and a ghastly little drama took place. Zhang fought fiercely, throwing aside her rapist. This caused the other man to unsling his gun and shoot her. His careless bullets also killed his comrade, however. The occupants of a pa.s.sing Russian vehicle, seeing what happened, themselves unleashed a burst of fire which killed the murderer. Three corpses were left unheeded in the street. and weeks that followed the Russian occupation were a brutal shock to the ”liberated” people of Aihni. They witnessed their share of the orgy of rape and destruction which overtook Manchuria. On 13 August, Xu Guiming saw two Russian soldiers accost in the street a local girl named Zhang-half-Russian, half-Chinese, like many people of the region. ”We reckon you owe us one,” they said, throwing her to the ground. One man held her down while the other bestrode her, and a ghastly little drama took place. Zhang fought fiercely, throwing aside her rapist. This caused the other man to unsling his gun and shoot her. His careless bullets also killed his comrade, however. The occupants of a pa.s.sing Russian vehicle, seeing what happened, themselves unleashed a burst of fire which killed the murderer. Three corpses were left unheeded in the street.

Xu did not himself witness another local incident which became notorious. A Russian burst into the home of a local policeman, Mr. Su, who was sitting with a man friend and his twenty-year-old wife, newly delivered of a baby. The Russian brusquely ordered the men out, and raped the girl. When he emerged, the outraged Chinese seized and bound him, then thrust him down their well. This incident rendered the avenging Chinese briefly famous, and a local hero. However, when the Communists soon afterwards took control of Aihni, Su was arrested for killing the Russian, ”our ally,” and summarily shot. His raped wife was denounced as a counter-revolutionary, an outcast, and forbidden ever again to marry or receive the protection of a man.

Xu said bitterly: ”This was not justice907. Everyone was sickened by the things that happened. The Russians were supposed to be our liberators, our brothers, but we quickly learned to regard them as enemies. They masqueraded as revolutionaries, but in truth they were no more than wolves.” Xu himself was fortunate to escape retribution for his time working for the j.a.panese. ”I was too unimportant a person,” he shrugged. Like millions of Manchurian Chinese, he now found himself witnessing a drama on which the curtain would ring down in accordance with Moscow's timetable, not that of Tokyo or Was.h.i.+ngton.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

The Last Act

1. ”G.o.d's Gifts”

THE O OPERATIONS and Plans Division of the War Department in Was.h.i.+ngton wrote on 7 August: ”Undoubtedly the biggest question and Plans Division of the War Department in Was.h.i.+ngton wrote on 7 August: ”Undoubtedly the biggest question908 in [ j.a.panese] minds is how many atomic bombs have we and where are we going to drop the next one...We had a rumor that Suzuki had been made Premier to make peace. If this was true, either there were strings to his appointment or else conditions have changed. j.a.panese propaganda since the [Potsdam] proclamation has obviously been guided by those 'self-willed militarists' against whom [it] was aimed.” This was not far from the mark. in [ j.a.panese] minds is how many atomic bombs have we and where are we going to drop the next one...We had a rumor that Suzuki had been made Premier to make peace. If this was true, either there were strings to his appointment or else conditions have changed. j.a.panese propaganda since the [Potsdam] proclamation has obviously been guided by those 'self-willed militarists' against whom [it] was aimed.” This was not far from the mark.

It remains cause for astonishment that, even in the wake of the atomic bombs and the Soviet invasion of Manchuria, the political stalemate in j.a.pan at first appeared unbroken. The military party, dominated by the war minister, Anami, and other service chiefs, argued that nothing had changed: resistance to the death was preferable to accepting the Potsdam Declaration; j.a.pan could still successfully oppose an invasion of the homeland. Admiral Toyoda, the naval chief, fancifully suggested that world opinion would prevent the U.S. from perpetrating another ”inhuman atrocity” with atomic bombs. Some civilian politicians were now willing to accept Potsdam, but with familiar conditions: there should be no occupation of j.a.pan, and the j.a.panese must try their own alleged war criminals. Most ministers, however, cared about only a single issue: retention of the position of the emperor, though there were endless nuances about how this demand should be articulated. There is no doubt that some genuinely feared the spectre of ”red revolution” in j.a.pan, of a dramatic and terrible explosion of popular wrath in the wake of defeat, if the stabilising influence of the emperor was removed.

Throughout 9 August, at meetings of the cabinet and Supreme War Council and at the Imperial Palace, these matters were debated. Within the government and service departments, the terms of dispute quickly became known, and provoked frenzied intrigue. Junior officers at the War Ministry, in particular, were appalled by the notion of surrender, and pressed their superiors to have no part of such a betrayal. Vice-Admiral Onis.h.i.+, begetter of the kamikaze campaign and now deputy chief of naval staff, begged Anami not to yield to the peacemakers. News of the second atomic bomb on Nagasaki appears to have made astonis.h.i.+ngly little impact on the leaders.h.i.+p one way or another, save that it fulfilled the American purpose of emphasising that ”Little Boy” was not a unique phenomenon. Anami speculated wildly that the Americans might possess as many as a hundred atomic weapons.

That evening of the ninth, the ”Big Six” members of the Supreme War Council found themselves called to an ”imperial conference” in the palace. There, they were told, Hirohito would announce a ”sacred decision.” The summons reflected fevered efforts by the peace party, in conversations that afternoon between Prince Konoe, Mamoru s.h.i.+gemitsu and the lord privy seal, Marquis Kido. At first, Kido was aghast at the notion of involving the throne in a matter of such delicacy. ”You are advocating a direct decision from the emperor,” he told the politicians. ”Have you ever thought what embarra.s.sment such a course might cause His Majesty?” The peacemakers, however, knew that only the emperor's personal support might make it possible to overcome military resistance to surrender. They pressed their point. After a forty-minute private conversation between emperor and lord privy seal, the substance of which was never disclosed, Kido returned to report Hirohito's a.s.sent to an ”imperial conference.” The service chiefs agreed to attend, and to hear the ”sacred decision,” knowing full well what this would be. Most privately recognised that j.a.pan was beaten. Yet still they ducked and weaved, to escape overt complicity in an outcome which their peers and subordinates would deem a betrayal. Slim of Fourteenth Army was surely right when he observed that while j.a.pan's commanders were physically brave men, many were also moral cowards.

The imperial conference began ten minutes before midnight on 9 August. The text of the Potsdam Declaration was read aloud. Foreign Minister Togo tabled a one-condition draft, proposing Potsdam's acceptance provided that no change was demanded ”in the status of the emperor under the national laws.” War Minister Anami continued to preach defiance, supported by his military colleagues. Soon after 2 a.m. on 10 August, however, Prime Minister Suzuki rose, bowed to the emperor, ignored a protest from Anami and invited the emperor's decision. Hirohito, still seated at the table, leaned forward and said: ”I will express my opinion. It is the same as that of the foreign minister.” It was necessary to ”bear the unbearable.” Hirohito spoke harshly of the chasm between the military's past promises and performance. Suzuki said: ”We have heard your august Thought.” Hirohito then left the room. Everyone present, including the military proponents of continued belligerence, signed a doc.u.ment approving the imperial decision.

Yet the war party was successful in introducing into the Togo draft a significant amendment. This accepted Potsdam ”on the understanding that the Allied Declaration would not comprise any demand which would prejudice the prerogatives of His Majesty as a Sovereign Ruler.” It was almost inevitable that a phrase open to far-reaching interpretations would be rejected by the United States. Even at this late and terrible hour, in Tokyo resistance to capitulation persisted. As j.a.pan's conditional acceptance of Potsdam was transmitted to the world, within the service ministries desperate intrigue continued. Junior officers were plotting a coup. The civilian politicians feared for their lives.

On 10 August, j.a.panese military headquarters in Shanghai signalled China Army HQ in Nanjing in some bewilderment. Local Chinese were celebrating Allied victory, its staff reported, cheering in the streets and letting off fireworks. Nationalist radio was reporting that j.a.pan had accepted the Potsdam terms. What were j.a.panese forces supposed to do? In private, Nanjing staff officers readily recognised that the war was lost, and had started to address the logistical problems of getting a million soldiers and 750,000 civilians back to j.a.pan. No one, however, was ready openly to concede this. Nanjing answered Shanghai: ”Ignore it all909909. j.a.pan has accepted nothing. We fight on.”

That same morning of the tenth, when Truman heard news of the j.a.panese p.r.o.nouncement, he summoned Byrnes, Stimson and Forrestal to the White House, where they were joined by Leahy, the president's chief of staff. It is an indication of Stimson's curious absence of expectation that any historic climax was imminent that he was due to leave on vacation that day, until he learned of the j.a.panese message. All those at the White House save Byrnes favoured immediate acceptance. No quibble, they thought, was worth delaying peace. But the secretary of state, still the most powerful influence on the president, said that he was troubled by the j.a.panese condition. ”Unconditional surrender” had always been the demand, indeed a national slogan, of the United States. He argued that to modify this now, when the U.S. was using atomic bombs and Russia had entered the j.a.panese war, would seem incomprehensible to the American people. Byrnes was perfectly amenable to preserving Hirohito's role. He was merely determined that the world should perceive the throne's survival as the fruit of American magnanimity, not j.a.panese intransigence.

Truman approved a note drafted by the State Department at Byrnes's behest, which was sent to London, Moscow and Chongqing on the afternoon of 10 August. This stipulated that ”from the moment of surrender the authority of the emperor and the j.a.panese government to rule the state shall be subject to the Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers,” and that ”the ultimate form of government of j.a.pan shall be...established by the freely expressed will of the j.a.panese people.” The British responded immediately, making their only significant intervention. They argued that it was wrong to insist, as the Americans proposed, that the emperor should personally sign the surrender terms. Probably mistakenly, Byrnes accepted this. He ignored Chiang Kai-shek's dissent.

On the tenth also, Truman told the cabinet he had given orders that no further atomic bombs should be dropped on j.a.pan without his explicit authority. It is reasonable to speculate that, in the days since 6 August, a sense of the enormity of the consequences of Hiros.h.i.+ma had darkened the mood of celebration with which the president greeted the first news. He was not alone in this. ”Along with a thrill of power and the instinctive pleasure at the thought of j.a.pan cringing in abject surrender, America's deep-rooted humanitarianism has begun to a.s.sert itself,” the British Emba.s.sy in Was.h.i.+ngton suggested to the Foreign Office in London on 11 August, ”and this secondary revulsion910 has been very marked in private conversation, although it has not yet appeared in the press...There is a good deal of heart-searching about the morality of using such a weapon, especially against an enemy already known to be on his last legs.” has been very marked in private conversation, although it has not yet appeared in the press...There is a good deal of heart-searching about the morality of using such a weapon, especially against an enemy already known to be on his last legs.”

Truman, however, was determined to maintain pressure on j.a.pan. He rejected the urgings of Stimson and Forrestal to halt conventional bombing. Between 10 and 14 August, LeMay's Superfortresses maintained their attacks on j.a.pan's cities, killing 15,000 people. Technical preparations continued for the release of further atomic bombs, should these prove necessary. A third weapon would be ready for delivery on 19 August. If Tokyo remained obdurate, U.S. a.s.sistant chief of staff Gen. John Hull debated with Colonel Seeman of the Manhattan Project the relative merits of dropping more bombs as they became available, or holding back to ”pour them all on in a reasonably short time911,” in tactical support of an invasion. Gen. Carl Spaatz, USAAF strategic bombing supremo, opposed continuing firebomb attacks. This was not, however, for humanitarian reasons: he simply preferred to conserve American lives and effort until the nineteenth, then drop a third atomic weapon on Tokyo.

In Moscow, Stalin perceived that peace was very near, and hastened to complete his treaty with the Chinese Nationalists. By its terms, Moscow recognised Chiang Kai-shek as his country's sole legitimate ruler. However, the Soviet leader sought to introduce a clause whereby Chiang would introduce ”national unity and democratisation.” The Nationalist delegation rejected this out of hand. Stalin asked: ”Don't you want to democratise China? If you continue to attack Communists, are we expected to support [the] Chinese government? We have no wish to interfere, but [it would be] hard for us to support [you] morally when you fight Communists.” The Nationalists remained implacable. Stalin shrugged: ”Very well. You see how many concessions we make. China's Communists will curse us.” But agreement on other issues remained elusive. Only at 3 a.m. on 15 August was the ”Treaty of Friends.h.i.+p and Alliance” between the USSR and China finally signed.

That night of the tenth in Moscow, Foreign Minister Molotov told Harriman, the U.S. amba.s.sador, that in the absence of j.a.panese unconditional surrender, the Soviet thrust into Manchuria would continue. As ever, Tokyo's stubbornness suited Soviet convenience. More dismaying, the Soviets now abruptly a.s.serted that they expected a share in the occupation of j.a.pan, including the appointment of their own supreme commander to serve jointly with MacArthur. Harriman responded furiously, saying that this was an outrageous demand, when Russia had only been in the j.a.panese war for two days. The Soviets eventually backed off, and accepted MacArthur's appointment as SCAP-Supreme Commander Allied Powers.

On 11 August the Byrnes note was dispatched to the j.a.panese government. It reached Tokyo in the early hours of the twelfth, provoking bitter disappointment among the peace party. Togo, the foreign minister, was at first disposed to abandon his commitment to bow to Was.h.i.+ngton. Only with the utmost reluctance did Suzuki and Togo finally agree to accept Byrnes's terms. The most surprising reactions came from some of the military. Deputy Chief of Staff Toras.h.i.+ro Kawabe declared that it was now too late to draw back from surrender, or to question the emperor's decision. He wrote in his diary: ”Alas, we are defeated. The imperial state we have believed in has been ruined.” Kawabe's superior, Gen. Yos.h.i.+jiro Umezu, was nicknamed ”the ivory mask.” He recognised that the war was lost. Toyoda, the naval chief, was similarly resigned. In contradiction to such private realism, however, in the presence of others all three persisted in holding out for conditions. Fearful of their own junior officers, they satisfied their ”honour” by submitting a note to the emperor a.s.serting that acceptance of the Byrnes note amounted to acceding to ”slave status” for j.a.pan. Hirohito sharply rebuked them, a.s.serting that his own mind was made up. The nation must rely upon American good faith.

The army's general staff drafted its own defiant response for the Supreme War Council to send to the Americans, a.s.serting j.a.pan's determination to continue the war. Fantastically, it also emphasised j.a.pan's refusal to declare war on the Soviet Union, apparently in the hope that Russian mediation still offered a prospect of better terms. This doc.u.ment was never dispatched, of course, but staff officers continued to plot a coup to forestall surrender. Kawabe was told of their intentions, and equivocated. Anami listened to an outline of the coup plan, neither approved nor disapproved, but made suggestions for refining its execution. He agreed to the mobilisation of some units which could secure the Imperial Palace and arrest civilian ministers. Anami's personal position had become further complicated the previous day, when Tokyo papers published in his name an exhortation to j.a.pan's soldiers to fight on, ”even if we have to eat gra.s.s, chew dirt and sleep in the fields.” This display of bellicosity was in reality issued by junior officers without Anami's knowledge. He refused to renounce the statement, however, because it reflected his personal convictions.

Signals were received from a succession of officers in the field, urging that the nation should fight on. Old Gen. Yasuji Okamura, directing j.a.pan's armies in China, cabled: ”I am firmly convinced that it is time to exert all our efforts to fight to the end, determined that the whole army should die an honourable death without being distracted by the enemy's peace offensive.” Field Marshal Terauchi spoke for his command: ”Under no circ.u.mstances can the Southern Army accept the enemy's reply.” Even by the standards of the j.a.panese military, in those days the conduct of its leaders was extraordinary. They seemed to care nothing for the welfare of j.a.pan's people, everything for their perverted concept of personal honour and that of the inst.i.tution to which they belonged. They knew that continued military resistance was futile. Yet they deluded themselves that they not only could, but must, pretend otherwise. Anami told Kido that the army was utterly opposed to accepting the Byrnes note. Among the civilian politicians, some continued to claim that they could endorse no terms which rendered the emperor subordinate to the supreme Allied commander.

Hirohito himself, however, declared that he was satisfied by Was.h.i.+ngton's a.s.sertion that the j.a.panese people could choose their own form of government. There is significant evidence that he was more affected than his senior officers by the atomic bombings-he quizzed Kido closely about their effects. At 3 p.m. on 12 August, the emperor summoned the men of his family, thirteen princes, to an unprecedented meeting at the palace, at which he explained the situation. All agreed to accept his judgement, including his youngest brother, Prince Mikasa, who had betrayed an earlier peace move to the military. Suzuki, after further vacillation, rallied with Togo to support acceptance of Byrnes's note. Yonai, the navy minister, with considerable courage summoned Admirals Toyoda and Onis.h.i.+, and sternly reprimanded them for questioning the emperor's will. Yonai confided to a colleague: ”The atomic bombs and the Soviet entry into the war are, in a sense, G.o.d's gifts.” They offered substantive reasons to end the war.

All through 13 August, meetings of the military and civilian factions continued. Hirohito, having embarked hesitantly on the path to surrender, progressively increased the energy of his interventions to secure this. He appears to have exercised private pressure on all the military chiefs to forestall a coup. At 3 p.m., after further sessions of the Supreme War Council and cabinet, Togo reported to the emperor that the war and peace parties were deadlocked. Anami begged the prime minister to delay two days before reconvening the imperial conference-he obviously wanted time to rally the military against surrender. Suzuki refused. A naval doctor attending the ailing prime minister said: ”You know that Anami will kill himself?” Suzuki said: ”Yes, I know, and I am sorry.”