Pearl Harbor

by Steven M. Gillon

  Despite the dreadful reports pouring in from Hawaii, there was a sense of relief in the room, mixed with shock and anger. For the past few months, FDR had been struggling with the threat of war in Europe and Asia. Always the skilled politician, he understood the deep public reluctance to get into either war. Perhaps he also recalled his 1940 campaign promise to keep the nation out of “foreign wars.” Just a few hours earlier, his advisers had been busy fretting over whether FDR would commit the nation to support the British if Japan attacked its outposts in the Pacific. With one decisive action, the Japanese had made his decision for him. According to Hopkins, “The conference met in not too tense an atmosphere because I think that all of us believed that in the last analysis the enemy was Hitler and that he could never be defeated without force of arms; that sooner or later we were bound to be in the war and that Japan had given us an opportunity. Everybody, however, agreed on the seriousness of the war and that it would be a long, hard struggle.”6

  Roosevelt began the meeting by cross-examining both Knox and Stimson about the attack. According to Grace Tully, FDR questioned them “closely on what had happened, on why they believed it could have happened, on what might happen next and on what they could do to repair to some degree the disaster.” No one, most of all someone as knowledgeable of the navy as FDR, could understand why the fleet was taken by surprise.7

  It was obvious to everyone in the room that the navy had been dealt a crippling blow. Perhaps even more troubling was the fact that the army and army air corps had been rendered helpless as well. According to Hopkins, Roosevelt quizzed Marshall about “the disposition of the troops and particularly the air force.” The damage at Pearl had been so complete that the forces that remained were in no position to prevent further Japanese aggression. Japan had free rein in the Pacific and beyond. “It was easy to speculate,” Tully recalled, “that a Jap invasion force might be following their air strike at Hawaii—or that the West Coast itself might be marked for similar assault.”8

  The beleaguered general was now focused on the fate of American forces in the Philippines under the command of General Douglas MacArthur. Marshall recognized that the American air bases at Clark Field in Manila would be the next likely target. As the possibility of war with Japan increased, military planners in Washington had shifted resources to the Philippines to serve as a bulwark against Japanese expansion. General MacArthur, whom Roosevelt appointed as commander of U.S. Army Forces in the Far East the previous July, was the chief architect of the strategy. In a series of memorandums, the general assured Washington that he could create an effective fighting force in the Philippines that would be capable of defending the islands against a Japanese assault. “I don’t think that the Philippines can defend themselves. I know they can,” he had declared.9

  MacArthur represented America’s best hope for stopping Japan’s rampage through the Pacific. The general had continued to provide optimistic reports about progress in building up the island’s defensive capabilities. “The Secretary of War and I were highly pleased to receive your report that your command is ready for any eventuality,” Marshall had radioed MacArthur a week before Pearl Harbor. Although resources were scarce, Marshall provided the Philippines with thirty-four B-17 bombers, giving MacArthur the largest concentration of American bombers in the world.

  On Sunday afternoon, before leaving for his 3:00 p.m. meeting at the White House, Marshall wrote a note to MacArthur. The radiogram was sent at 3:22 p.m. and arrived at MacArthur’s headquarters at 5:35 a.m. on December 8 (to the west of the international date line, the Philippines are a day ahead of the United States). The message stated: “Hostilities between Japan and the United States . . . have commenced.... Carry out tasks assigned in Rainbow Five.” The military strategy called for carrying out “air raids against Japanese forces and installations within tactical operating radius of available bases.” At the 3:00 p.m. meeting with Roosevelt, Marshall assured the president that he had ordered MacArthur to execute “all the necessary movement required in event of an outbreak of hostilities with Japan.”10

  According to Hopkins, Marshall “was clearly impatient to get away” from the meeting in the White House. He was worried about the fate of the Philippines. He had not been able to reach the general, and MacArthur had so far failed to acknowledge receiving the orders. It was not clear in Washington whether MacArthur was busy fighting off a Japanese attack or if there was a communications problem. Either way, Marshall wanted to get back to the War Department to monitor the situation.11

  Surprisingly, FDR spent a great deal of time at the meeting with his advisers discussing the situation in Latin America. FDR conferred with Hull about “the urgent necessity of keeping all of the South American Republics not only informed but to keep them in line with us.” The nations in South America had not yet been pulled into the war, but FDR worried that the Germans and Japanese had been active in the region in an effort to stir up anti-American feeling. He was especially concerned about the strategic importance of the Panama Canal and the nations that bordered it.

  Since the days of the Monroe Doctrine, the United States has forged a protective shield around Central America and Latin America. Franklin Roosevelt came to office determined to work hard to develop closer ties with nations in the region. His inaugural address had one line devoted to foreign policy: “In the field of world policy I would dedicate this nation to the policy of the good neighbor.” Although the appeal was general, he directed it specifically to Latin America. Over the next few years, the administration had pushed through trade agreements that lowered tariffs by up to 50 percent, allowing for a freer exchange of goods between North and South. Roosevelt also disavowed the use of military intervention in the region, and he followed up his rhetoric with concrete actions.12

  As war raged across the ocean in Europe, Roosevelt became increasingly focused on Nazi influence in the region. Concern about regional security pushed the administration to negotiate for naval and air bases across the region. The United States sent military advisers to Latin America and invited their officers to study at American military schools. U.S. officials kept blacklists of suspected subversives and pressured governments to fire employees with ties to the Axis powers.13

  FDR had reason to believe the threat of Nazi subversion in the region was real. Less than two months before Pearl Harbor, Roosevelt told the nation that he had in his possession “a secret map” of Latin America drawn up by Hitler’s generals. The map, he said, took the fourteen republics in Latin America and reduced them to “five vassal states . . . bringing the whole continent under their domination.” Hitler’s plan, he said, represented a threat to “our great life line, the Panama Canal.” Although Roosevelt did not know it at the time, the map was bogus, cooked up by British intelligence to help nudge America into the war.14

  According to Hopkins, there was also a spirited debate about FDR’s message to Congress. Roosevelt had decided that he would give a speech before a joint session of Congress the following day. He wanted to keep that dramatic address as brief as possible, followed by a more detailed radio address to the nation later in the week. There is no evidence that he discussed the idea with any of his advisers or asked for their input on the decision. “The President expressed himself very strongly that he was going to submit a precise message and had in mind submitting a longer message later,” Hopkins noted in his memorandum.15

  Hull objected to the president’s plan. He insisted that the president give a long, detailed speech that reviewed the whole history of U.S.-Japanese relations. Hopkins estimated that it would take up to thirty minutes for FDR to give the type of speech that Hull recommended. Although Roosevelt understood the appeal of a message that would make the case for war against Japan, he insisted on delivering an address that would be short, succinct, and emotionally powerful. Most of all, it needed to resonate with the millions of Americans who would be listening on radio.

  By 1941, radio was competing with newspapers as the public’s pri
mary source of information. There were more than 45 million radios in the United States, including 6.5 million in cars. Nearly 90 percent of all homes with electricity had at least one radio, which families listened to on average for more than four and a half hours per day.16

  FDR had mastered the new medium. He viewed radio as a way to communicate directly with the American people without journalists running interference. Radio, he said, tends “to restore direct contact between the masses and their chosen leaders.” He had cultivated a bond with his audience that stretched back to his first “fireside chat” in the opening days of his presidency. As Steve Early noted, “The President likes to think of the audience as being a few people around his fireside.” Although his speeches were carefully scripted, they succeeded in creating a sense of intimacy between the president and the people. “You felt he was talking to you,” observed journalist Richard Strout, “not to 50 million others but to you personally.”17

  FDR was remarkably skilled at projecting his personality over radio. He understood the power of brevity and kept most of his addresses under thirty minutes. He spoke slowly and clearly, usually enunciating fewer than one hundred words per minute. Perhaps most important, FDR used words and phrases that conveyed empathy and connected with everyday Americans. He littered his speeches with analogies (“when your neighbor’s house is on fire”) and with personal appeals (“together we cannot fail”) that allowed him to create a personal bond with his listeners. He even paid close attention to the microphone angle and sound. When FDR realized that a space between his front lower teeth produced a noticeable whistling sound on the radio, he ordered a fake tooth. On many occasions he would remember the tooth at the last minute, producing a mad scramble to retrieve it in the seconds before he went on the air.18

  While FDR’s skill and sensitivity to his radio audience played a role in his decision, there were other reasons that argued in favor of a shorter war message. It is possible that a longer statement would have required him to go into too much detail about the damage done and the lives lost. Would a detailed overview of the devastation demoralize the American people? Although it would have been easy to inflame public anger toward Japan, Roosevelt believed that Germany remained the greater threat to America. He had to maintain a delicate balancing act, inspiring Americans to fight against Japan, while not distracting them from the battle in Europe.

  Hopkins advised FDR to hold two conferences before the end of the day to build political support for the address: one with the cabinet and one with congressional leaders. While the White House switchboard tracked down the cabinet, FDR and Hopkins discussed which congressional leaders to invite to the meeting.

  While the president was meeting with his advisers, Admiral Stark continued to call in with the latest updates from Pearl Harbor. A few times, FDR answered the phone himself, but Grace Tully usually took the calls. She was originally stationed at a phone outside the Oval Study, but when the commotion of aides coming and going became too distracting, she moved into FDR’s bedroom. “It was my job to take these fragmentary and shocking reports from him in shorthand, type them up and relay them to the Boss,” she reflected.19

  The news was grim, with each report more depressing than the last. “I could hear the shocked unbelief in Admiral Stark’s voice as he talked to me,” she said. FDR’s military aides hovered over her as she took each call, hoping to overhear what Stark was telling her. They followed her as she rushed into another room to type each message. “The news was shattering,” she recalled. “At first,” Tully recalled, “the men around the President were incredulous; that changed to angry acceptance as new messages supported and amplified the previous ones.” Roosevelt, she observed, “maintained greater outward calm than anybody else but there was rage in his very calmness. With each new message he shook his head grimly and tightened the expression of his mouth.”20

  At around 3:30 FDR received a report that an army cargo ship, seven hundred miles west of San Francisco, had sent a distress signal. The assumption was that a Japanese submarine had attacked it. If true, it meant that Japanese submarines were operating far out in the Pacific. Where were they headed next?21

  At 3:50 p.m., Tully handed FDR a long report that dimmed any lingering hope that the navy had managed an effective counterattack and repelled the main Japanese force. “The Japs attacked Honolulu time about eight o’clock this morning,” Stark reported. “The first warning was from a submarine that was outside the harbor which was attacked by a destroyer with depth bombs.” He reported that a second submarine “was sunk by aircraft.” He then proceeded to describe the raid. “They attacked with aircraft, with bombs and torpedoes.” He also mistakenly reported, “At least two aircraft were known to have a swastika sign on them.”

  He noted that the Japanese had attacked in two waves and inflicted “severe” damage. “The Oklahoma has capsized in Pearl Harbor. The Tennessee is on fire with a bad list, and the Navy yard is attempting to drydock her.” The report went on to describe the damage to the drydock. Two destroyers were hit. One had blown up. Another was on fire. The Oglala was beyond repair. The powerhouse had been hit but was still operational. The Japanese planes had also inflicted heavy damage to the airfields at Ford Island, Hickam, Wheeler, and Kanoehe. “Probably heavy personnel casualties but no figures.” He mistakenly reported that the Japanese “have no details of the damage which they have wrought.”

  Roosevelt was trying to piece together the puzzle. He still did not have a complete picture of the nature of the Japanese attack and the American response. Stark’s reports had offered only a glimpse of the damage. For example, the admiral had made no mention of the Arizona , which accounted for nearly half of the U.S. fatalities. As a result, FDR not only had no concrete figures on casualties but probably at this point could not have imagined that thousands of Americans had been killed or injured.

  It was in this climate of incomplete information—and even in some cases misinformation—that FDR and his advisers sought to understand Japan’s intention. Was the attack designed to cripple the American military in anticipation of a land assault on Hawaii? Was the same Japanese armada responsible for the attack continuing eastward for a possible assault on the West Coast of the United States? Was the attack part of a larger initiative designed to destroy key American military and political centers? And what, if any, role had Germany played in the attacks? Given Stark’s mistaken mention of swastikas on some of the offending aircraft, Roosevelt must have wondered why Hitler would commit German planes to attack Pearl Harbor. But he likely welcomed the notion that Hitler might have been directly involved in the attack. It would make it easier for him to declare war against Germany.

  Threats closer to home also weighed heavily on Roosevelt on Sunday afternoon. He was clearly worried about damaging details of the attack leaking to the press. There was general agreement among FDR’s advisers that the government should establish formal censorship of the press. Most newspapers had been practicing self-censorship since the outbreak of World War II in Europe. FDR wanted tighter controls in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor, however. He feared that detailed damage reports would embolden the enemy and demoralize the American public. Within hours of the attack on Sunday afternoon, the Office of Naval Intelligence started monitoring all radio and telephone traffic from the island. Any communication that provided details of the carnage was immediately shut down. At the same time, the War Department started opening and reading mail coming to the mainland.22

  In addition to restricting press freedom, Roosevelt took steps to protect the nation from potential sabotage. FDR probably assumed that the Japanese saboteurs played a key role in the successful attacks. Would there be an effort to disrupt the government in Washington? The question was clearly on his mind when he issued orders to guard against possible sabotage to key facilities in Washington. To prevent potential attacks at home, the president ordered Stimson and Knox to place armed guards around all key facilities, especially private munitions factories and all br
idges. Always concerned about political symbols and the messages they sent, FDR did not want armed soldiers surrounding the White House.23

  7

  “Infamy”

  THE GATHERING in the Oval Study ended around 4:15 p.m. After his advisers filtered out of the room, Roosevelt turned his attention to crafting his speech. He understood that his address would serve as the centerpiece of his strategy of building support for war. But what would he say? Should he recite a long list of grievances against Japan? Would the public support a simultaneous declaration of war against Germany and Italy? Writing speeches was usually a long, drawn-out process that involved many people and numerous drafts. FDR’s speechwriters were out of town and could not be reached, so he had to prepare the most important speech of his presidency on his own.

  He was comfortable with the task. Since his days as an editor of the Harvard Crimson, FDR had thought of himself as a writer, and he had generally played a major role in drafting many of his most important speeches. He also had a clear idea of what he wanted to say and how he would say it.1

  At 4:50 p.m., FDR called Grace Tully to his study. “He was alone,” Tully observed. On his desk were three neat piles of notes with all the information he had received that afternoon. “The telephone was close at hand.” He had exchanged his sweater from earlier in the morning for a gray sack jacket. FDR took a deep drag from a cigarette as she walked into the room. “Sit down, Grace, I’m going before Congress tomorrow. I’d like to dictate my message. It will be short.”2

  He inhaled again and then in a calm voice he began dictating his war message. “Yesterday comma December 7th comma 1941 dash a day which will live in world history dash the United States of America was simultaneously and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.” Tully had transcribed many messages for FDR, but this one was different, she recalled, because “he spoke each word incisively and slowly, carefully specifying each punctuation mark and paragraph.” She noted that the “entire message ran under 500 words” and represented “a cold-blooded indictment of Japanese treachery and aggression.” It was, she reflected, “delivered to me without hesitation, interruption or second thoughts.”