War at the End of the World

by James P. Duffy

  Secretary Stimson remained of a different opinion. In early February, he drafted a message the president sent to MacArthur, instructing him to “continue to keep our flag flying in the Philippines so long as there remains any possibility of resistance.” He said it was imperative that the United States not “display weakness in fact or spirit anywhere.” The American determination to win, Roosevelt told MacArthur, must carry “down to the last unit.”15

  That MacArthur was prepared to die in the final battle for Corregidor is without question. He told Washington that several times, and made no plans for the evacuation of his family. Among the few in the government who opposed this was General Marshall. The American chief of staff told his British counterparts, “If one commander were designated out there [the Pacific theater], it couldn’t be anybody but MacArthur, on the basis of pure competence alone.”16

  Marshall realized that only a direct presidential order could get MacArthur to leave Corregidor. However, despite Marshall’s best efforts, Roosevelt resisted ordering him out.

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  On February 15, 1942, Allied forces in Singapore—mostly British, Indian, and Australian—surrendered to the Japanese in what Churchill described to Roosevelt as “the greatest disaster in our history.”17 Among the eighty thousand men taken prisoner were over fifteen thousand members of the Australian 8th Division. When the news reached Australia, it set off shock waves among the population and the government. The loss of so many soldiers at once was bad enough, but now the Japanese were slowly closing in on Australia.

  The gravity of the Japanese success so far in the war became even starker four days later, when 188 Japanese carrier-based aircraft attacked the northern Australian port of Darwin at 9:58 in the morning. Commander Fuchida led the raid, directed at the forty-five ships in the port and the portside facilities. It lasted until ten thirty. Less than thirty minutes later, fifty-five land-based bombers made a second attack, this one targeted primarily at the nearby airfield. The two attacks cost 243 lives and injured between 300 and 400 more defenders. The American destroyer Peary and the transport Meigs, along with six other ships, sank. The two raids destroyed twenty-four aircraft, including three U.S. Navy Catalinas, ten Kittyhawk fighters, one Liberator bomber, and three RAAF Hudsons.

  Now that there had been the first “physical contact of war within Australia,” as Prime Minister Curtin described it, the Australian War Cabinet wanted its army back to defend the country. Curtin fired off a cablegram to Churchill, demanding the return of the 6th, 7th, and 9th Infantry Divisions from the Middle East. The two prime ministers engaged in a heated exchange of cables, with Churchill resisting the loss of the three experienced combat divisions that he believed necessary to continue the fight against the Axis commander in North Africa, General Erwin Rommel.

  Few recognized at the time that the Australian government was about to save MacArthur’s life, for, in the words of biographer William Manchester, “it is almost certain that he would have been left to die on the Rock had Australia not interfered.”18

  Churchill turned to Roosevelt for help with the Australian prime minister. The president cabled Curtin, asking him to reconsider his decision to withdraw all three divisions “in the interests of our whole war effort in the Far East.” Taking into account Curtin’s desire to strengthen ties with the United States, Roosevelt told him that in addition to the American troops and forces now en route, a further 27,000 men, fully equipped in every respect, were to be sent from the United States to Australia.19

  However, the Australians still had a strong hand to play. Of course they wanted American troops, but most of all they wanted an American commander who would ensure that the fight to save Australia from invasion would become an American fight. They wanted MacArthur. On February 21, the Australian cabinet met in a special session to discuss the request for the return of the three divisions. It decided to change its demand to the return of only two divisions if an American general were named supreme commander of their theater, along with a promise that more American troops would be sent to Australia. Churchill forwarded the proposal to Roosevelt.20

  Robert Sherwood, a presidential speechwriter and close adviser to Roosevelt, explained what happened next: “It was this strained relationship [between Churchill and Curtin] and the desperate predicament of Australia that caused it, which influenced the orders to MacArthur. Roosevelt knew full well that the departure of MacArthur from Corregidor would be a grievous blow to the heroic men of his command and thus to the whole United States. It was ordering the captain to be the first to leave the sinking ship. But Roosevelt had to weigh these considerations against the fact that no move he could make [other than sending them MacArthur] would be so well calculated to bolster the morale of the people of Australia and New Zealand.” It would also allow Churchill to keep one Australian division in North Africa.21

  President Roosevelt met with General Marshall, Admiral Ernest King—commander in chief of the United States Fleet and soon to be named chief of naval operations—and close presidential adviser Harry Hopkins on Sunday afternoon, February 22, to discuss MacArthur’s fate. At that meeting, the president decided to send a coded message to MacArthur instructing him to leave Corregidor for the Philippine island of Mindanao. He was to remain there no longer than a week to determine the feasibility of a prolonged defense of the island. He was then to proceed to Australia, where he would take command of the U.S. forces building there. Following much soul-searching and discussions with his senior officers, MacArthur decided he had no choice but to obey. Perhaps Bataan, or at least Corregidor, could hold out long enough for him to return with a force large enough to drive the Japanese out.

  After turning command over to Major General Jonathan M. Wainwright, who had been commander of the North Luzon Force, MacArthur and his party of nineteen persons slipped aboard four PT boats and headed to Mindanao after sunset on Wednesday, March 11. The group had several narrow escapes from Japanese warships that were probably searching for him, for word had leaked from Washington that he would be leaving. During the voyage, MacArthur’s wife, Jean, became seasick and lost her purse overboard. They arrived at Mindanao at seven a.m. on March 13. Two B-17s from the 40th Reconnaissance Squadron of the 19th Bombardment Group flew them out on the morning of the seventeenth, headed to Darwin, Australia, some five and a half hours away, over territory under complete control of the Japanese. Before departing, the lead pilot, Lieutenant Frank P. Bostrom, drank eight cups of black coffee to help him stay awake while local mechanics repaired one of his plane’s turbochargers. He had already flown nearly six hours to Mindanao and would be heading back in a few hours with his valuable passengers.

  MacArthur’s plane had some engine trouble as it sped down the runway, but managed to get off the ground safely. Everyone’s luggage, limited to one small piece each when they left Corregidor, had to be left behind to reduce the weight. As for the general, he had left his island fortress with nothing more than the khaki clothes on his back. He even had to borrow a razor in order to shave. Except for the anxiety of flying so close to Japanese-held airfields on the islands of Timor and Celebes, the flight was without incident. Bostrom’s navigator, Lieutenant Bob Ray Carruthers, later wrote of the mission: “We had delivered our precious cargo safe and sound and we all felt pretty swell about it.”22

  Unable to land at Darwin, which was under attack by enemy bombers, the two B-17s touched down some fifty miles to the south at Batchelor Field. It was here that MacArthur received the first clue that the great American army he expected to be waiting for him in Australia, based on his interpretation of Roosevelt’s order, did not exist. When he asked an American officer stationed at Batchelor Field about the buildup of American forces, the man responded, “So far as I know, sir, there are very few troops here.” MacArthur was shocked and thought the man must be incorrect.23

  A small group of reporters approached MacArthur and asked him for a statement. The general’s pro
mise to the people of the Philippines was soon repeated throughout the Allied world. “The President of the United States ordered me to break through the Japanese lines and proceed from Corregidor to Australia for the purpose, as I understand it, of organizing the American offensive against Japan, a primary object of which is the relief of the Philippines. I came through, and I shall return.”24

  Many of the general’s critics attacked him over the last three words, attributing them to his ego. Yet the phrase actually came from Carlos Romulo, a Filipino journalist and soldier who would later serve as president of the United Nations General Assembly. When, while still on Corregidor, one of MacArthur’s staff officers told him their slogan would be “We shall return,” the Filipino objected, telling the officer that “America has let us down and will not be trusted. But the people still have confidence in MacArthur. If he says he is coming back, he will be believed.”25

  Following the harrowing flight from Mindanao, the MacArthurs flew to Alice Springs, the nearest railway station, to catch a train to Melbourne, their ultimate destination.

  Located in the middle of the continent, more than a thousand miles from Melbourne, Alice Springs was an outback village as remote as a frontier town in the American West. MacArthur’s party put up at the only hotel and spent most of its time fighting off swarms of black flies that infested the area during Australia’s sweltering late summer. The arrival of Brigadier General Patrick J. Hurley, an old friend of MacArthur’s, aboard his own aircraft briefly cheered everyone’s spirits. Hurley, who had served as secretary of war under Herbert Hoover, was now in Australia as a special representative of General Marshall. He told MacArthur that the entire nation was hailing him as a hero, like Dewey or Lindbergh, but the tired, gaunt escapee from Corregidor—he had lost twenty-five pounds since the invasion—only wanted to know where his army was. Hurley replied that he had no idea.26 He then offered to fly the entire party to Melbourne. Jean, who had had enough of flying, responded, “No, thank you, we’re going by train.”27

  After lunch on March 18, seven days after they left Corregidor, the MacArthur family, including Ah Cheu (Arthur’s amah), Major Morehouse, young Arthur’s doctor, and two other officers, boarded a train that one American journalist referred to as “the tiny Toonerville train that ran across Australia’s barren core.”28 The locomotive slowly chugged along across the vast, open, mostly desert countryside toward Melbourne.

  In the meantime, an American army officer had given Prime Minister Curtin a message from FDR informing him that General Douglas MacArthur had arrived in Australia. The president proposed that the Australian government nominate MacArthur as the supreme commander of all Allied forces in the southwest Pacific. When Curtin asked exactly where in Australia the general was, the officer responded truthfully that he did not know.29

  Perhaps Roosevelt thought this message accomplished two goals. First, he was giving the Australians the American general they wanted, expecting them in return to leave one division of their army in North Africa. Second, FDR may have believed that by moving quickly to make MacArthur the supreme commander of all Allied troops in the theater, the general might forget about the optimistic yet empty assurances of help he had received from Roosevelt and others in Washington while trapped on Corregidor. The promises included “streams of bombers” and troop reinforcements that never materialized.30

  As the little train crept across the center of Australia, America read news of MacArthur’s escape from Corregidor and his appearance in Australia. Under the headline “Pleased Australia Greets a ‘Fighter,’” the New York Times quoted an Australian newspaper editorial as saying that MacArthur’s arrival “will be regarded as the best single piece of news since the outbreak of the Pacific War. His gallant stand in the Philippines has fired the imagination of Australians, who love a fighter, and his command of Australians in addition to American troops will be an inspiration to the fighting forces.”31

  President Roosevelt issued a statement to the press explaining why he had ordered MacArthur out of the Philippines. He acknowledged the people’s admiration for MacArthur’s commitment in the archipelago, and asked them to consider the long-term success of the war in putting the general where he could best serve his country.32

  The rest of the world quickly heard the news of MacArthur’s arrival in Australia. Journalists in London reported that his appointment meant the Allies “intended to substitute offense for defense in the Far East.” Some thought the appointment also indicated a change in the “Europe first” policy decided on by Roosevelt and Churchill. They were wrong, as would become apparent over the next few months.33

  One American historian described the convergence of arrivals in Australia in this way: “As it was, Japan suffered from the worst of two worlds. MacArthur came to Australia at the same time a crack Australian infantry division arrived from Europe.”34

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  At Adelaide, MacArthur’s party changed to a standard-gauge railroad and made grateful use of a private coach sent for them by an Australian railroad official. While this improved spirits, the arrival of MacArthur’s deputy chief of staff, Brigadier General Richard Marshall, brought bad news. He had flown to Melbourne aboard Hurley’s plane to gather information on what American troops were in the country and their location. Meeting his boss in Adelaide, Marshall explained that the army they all expected to be awaiting MacArthur’s arrival was virtually nonexistent. There was no great American troop concentration. Instead, Marshall reported, there were less than twenty-five thousand American soldiers in the entire country. Making matters worse, he told MacArthur there were “no infantry or tanks; only two National Guard Coast Artillery antiaircraft regiments, a regiment or two of field artillery, and two regiments of engineers and some scattered Air Corps personnel.” The total number of Allied planes was 250, but fewer than 100 were actually serviceable at the moment. The only trained combat troops in all of Australia was a single brigade—less than 7,000 men—from the Australian 6th Division, which had returned from North Africa. In addition, the February 27 Battle of the Java Sea had left the greater part of the Allied naval forces in the area destroyed.35

  MacArthur’s knees buckled a bit under the weight of this news and the realization that he had left three times as many troops, all combat experienced, trapped on Bataan and Corregidor. “God have mercy on us,” he mumbled as he turned away from Marshall. As his new train sped toward Melbourne, the general spent most of the night pacing back and forth in his car, planning how he was going to create an army and liberate the Philippines, while Jean struggled to get him to rest. “It was,” he later said, “the greatest shock and surprise of the whole damn war.”36

  Speaking later of those dark hours, speeding toward Melbourne and an army that did not exist, Jean told a friend that the news made Douglas “a lonely, angry man.”37

  One can only imagine how MacArthur felt while pacing the railroad car. In his heart, he knew many would view his evacuation from Corregidor as abandoning his troops, even though he had done so reluctantly and as ordered by his commander in chief. For long weeks, officials in Washington had been promising, or at the least intimating, that help was on the way, and he had passed that optimistic news to his troops, but he now realized it would never come. Washington had just wanted him and his army to keep the enemy occupied for as long as possible until they were killed or taken prisoner. Then had come vague promises of an army assembling in Australia that could be used to retake the Philippines. The truth was, he did not have enough actual combat troops to defend even one Australian port if the Japanese invaded, much less liberate the Philippines.

  Winston Churchill nearly made the situation even worse for MacArthur. While the 6th and 7th Australian Divisions were being convoyed across the Indian Ocean and back to Australia, as Churchill, Roosevelt, and Curtin had agreed, in exchange for the American general, the British PM violated the agreement. He unilaterally ordered the ships carrying the 7th Division to
change course and head to Burma to aid in the defense of Rangoon. When Curtin learned of this, he countermanded Churchill’s instructions and ordered the ships to Australia. British historian Max Hastings agreed with Curtin. “The Australians, fine and experienced soldiers though they were, could not have turned the tide in a doomed campaign.”38

  Seventy-two hours after departing from Alice Springs, MacArthur’s train arrived at Melbourne’s Spencer Street Station a few minutes before ten on the sunny morning of Saturday, March 21, 1942. The New York Times described the greeting he received from the Australians as “a tumultuous welcome.”39

  At the station to greet the new commander was a party of Australian government officials and military officers. Heading the delegation was Army Minister and Deputy Prime Minister Francis M. Forde. The military men were “resplendent in gold braid” and a bit taken aback when MacArthur stepped off the train in plain khakis, his “old bush jacket” hiding the stars on his shirt collar, the only indication he was actually an officer. American journalist John Hersey wrote that among the well-turned-out, high-ranking Australian officers, MacArthur “looked like business.”40

  The American general wasted no time demonstrating to the highest-ranking Australian official present that he in fact meant business. He told Forde that although things looked “black” at the moment, he was “absolutely confident that with the backing and cooperation of the government and people of my country, and the wholehearted support and cooperation of the government and people of Australia, in the very near future naval vessels and airplanes, fighting personnel and weapons of war will be in Australian waters.”41