War at the End of the World
Page 38
It seems almost everyone in official Washington, including the Joint Chiefs, agreed with King and his planners that the Philippines must be bypassed and that the Pacific Fleet should instead spearhead an attack against Formosa. Secretary of War Stimson was one exception. After reading MacArthur’s argument against the plan, Stimson told Marshall that the absence of large land-based aircraft to support the invasion was an important factor.
Out in the Pacific, opinions were different. Admirals Halsey and Spruance reportedly told Nimitz that they favored an invasion of Luzon over Formosa. Admiral King had no patience with naval officers who sided with MacArthur’s views, so most kept their opinions to themselves. One who did not was Rear Admiral Robert Carney, Halsey’s chief of staff. When King, who was visiting Nimitz’s headquarters at Pearl Harbor, became angry at Carney and asked if he wanted to turn Manila into a London with all its bomb wreckage, Carney replied, “No, sir, I want to make an England out of Luzon.” His implication was that hundreds of thousands of American troops could use the main Philippine island as a jumping-off point against the enemy, similar to the way England served as the base for American forces invading Axis-controlled North Africa and Europe.5
Carney was not alone among the ranking admirals in the Pacific to oppose King’s position on future strategy and support the view of MacArthur. Yet the general, in semi-isolation far out in the SWPA, was unaware that many of the leaders of the Navy he regularly railed against actually agreed with him. In a memo to Nimitz, Vice Admiral John H. Towers, deputy commander in chief of the Pacific Fleet and Nimitz’s top aviation adviser, wrote that the Navy should forgo the central Pacific islands in favor of the Philippines. Two others who were close to Nimitz, Rear Admiral Charles McMorris and Rear Admiral Forrest Sherman, endorsed Towers’s memo. After reading their arguments, Nimitz wrote “Concur” on the document and sent it to King.6
To King’s great surprise, he learned that President Roosevelt himself was coming to Honolulu, scheduled to arrive shortly after King was scheduled to depart. Even more shocking, the Joint Chiefs, including King and Marshall, had not been invited to join him. The president wanted to meet personally with his theater commanders, Admiral Nimitz and General MacArthur. It has never been clear, then or now, why Roosevelt, whose health was rapidly deteriorating, made the trip, but in King’s opinion, referring to the upcoming election, “he had to show the voters he was commander in chief.”7 Even after the war, King continued to fume about the president’s meeting with Nimitz and MacArthur. In his autobiography, published in 1952, he titled the section dealing with the meeting, “President Roosevelt Intervenes in Pacific Strategy.”8
Before leaving Hawaii, King wrote a letter to MacArthur, which he left behind to be hand-delivered to the general when he arrived. In it, King warned his adversary that the British military chiefs were planning to intrude in MacArthur’s theater and possibly take control of Australia and the oil-rich Dutch East Indies once the Americans advanced to the Philippines. They were suggesting that Lord Mountbatten take over as SWPA theater commander.9
Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, on July 19 MacArthur received instructions from Marshall to be in Honolulu on July 26. MacArthur was unaware, as was almost everyone else in the Pacific, that the president of the United States had boarded the heavy cruiser Baltimore in San Diego on Saturday, July 22, the same day the Democratic Party convention in Chicago nominated Senator Harry Truman of Missouri as its vice presidential candidate. The ship waited until just after midnight to leave port, escorted by several destroyers and a flight of aircraft overhead. The president was evidently superstitious about beginning a long sea voyage on a Friday.10
MacArthur tried several times to beg off leaving SWPA, but to no avail. Marshall insisted he go to Honolulu. For security reasons, he could not divulge FDR’s attendance but he did give MacArthur to understand that Admiral William Leahy would be present. MacArthur knew that Leahy, Roosevelt’s closest military adviser, would not travel to Hawaii without his boss. It was clear the meeting was with the president.
MacArthur realized that with Marshall apparently siding with King, this might be his only opportunity to win over the most important decision maker in Washington to his strategic view that the Philippines should be taken before American forces moved farther north or west to Formosa or the Home Islands. Yet even with the possibility of a big payday, and after requesting permission to go to Washington himself, he was angry about being taken away from his war. He grumbled, “In the First War, I never for a moment left my division. Even when wounded by gas and ordered to the hospital.”11
MacArthur left Brisbane for the nearly twenty-six-hour and almost three-thousand-mile flight on July 26—it was still July 25 in Hawaii. His plane made two stops for fuel, once after nearly a thousand miles at New Caledonia, then after another two thousand miles at Canton Island, before the final leg to Oahu. Since he had not been told the reason for the meeting, but that he would not require a staff, MacArthur traveled without notes or plans of any kind, and with only three other Army officers. One was Brigadier General Bonner Fellers, who served as his military secretary, and was reportedly well liked by the president since his pre–Pearl Harbor service gathering intelligence in Egypt. The others were an aide and an Army doctor.12
As MacArthur’s plane made its approach to Hickam Field on Oahu in the early afternoon of July 26, the sky was filled with fighters and bombers on display for the president, whose ship soon rounded Diamond Head and headed into Pearl Harbor. It docked alongside pier 22-B, greeted by cheers and applause from the hundreds of sailors and civilians who had made their way to the pier after learning the president was arriving. It was a grand entrance, and Roosevelt enjoyed every minute of it. Once the gangway was in place, some four dozen flag and general officers, all looking smart in their best dress uniforms, went aboard to greet their commander in chief on the cruiser’s quarterdeck. After all the introductions were made and the president had brief conversations with many of his officers, he turned to Nimitz and asked where MacArthur was. The admiral responded that he was not sure if MacArthur had yet arrived.
After landing at the Army airfield, MacArthur went directly to the quarters of Lieutenant General Robert Richardson at Fort Shafter, a short ride from Hickam. Richardson, an old friend from West Point, had invited MacArthur to stay with him, and the general gladly accepted. Richardson was not in his quarters, for as commanding officer of all Army and Air Corps forces fighting in the central and South Pacific theaters under Admiral Nimitz, and as military governor of Hawaii, he had joined Nimitz in welcoming President Roosevelt. MacArthur bathed, shaved, and dressed in a fresh khaki uniform under the worn Air Corps pilot’s leather jacket General Kenney had given him, then donned his trademark rumpled Filipino field marshal’s hat. Now he was ready to meet the president, whom he had not seen since retiring as chief of staff and shipping out to the Philippines in 1935. He climbed into the long, open car that General Richardson had provided and, accompanied by a military police motorcycle escort, made his way to the pier.
A short while later MacArthur made his own grand entrance dockside, as described by presidential speechwriter Samuel I. Rosenman, who had accompanied his boss on the trip. “Just as we were getting ready to go below, a terrific automobile siren was heard, and there raced onto the dock and screeched to a stop a motorcycle escort and the longest car I have ever seen. In the front was a chauffeur in khaki, and in the back one lone figure—MacArthur. When the applause died down, the General strode rapidly to the gangplank all alone. He dashed up the gangplank, stopped to acknowledge another ovation, and soon was on deck greeting the President.”13
Rosenman reported that the president greeted MacArthur by first name and asked why he was wearing a leather jacket when the day was so hot. MacArthur explained he had flown from Australia and, pointing skyward, that it was cold flying across the ocean. The general made no mention of the fact he had taken time out for a bath and shave. The p
resident and his two theater commanders sat for several official photographs, then said their good-byes after planning to meet the following morning. Roosevelt wanted both MacArthur and Nimitz to join him on an inspection of the island’s defenses as well as other military installations, including hospitals.
Returning to Fort Shafter for dinner with General Richardson, MacArthur complained about being called away from the war for what appeared to amount to little more than a political picture-taking junket. He is also said to have told Richardson that Roosevelt’s physical appearance had shocked him. Less than nine months later, President Roosevelt would be dead from a massive stroke.14
The following morning, July 27, Roosevelt, MacArthur—now wearing a regulation summer Army jacket—squeezed alongside Nimitz into the backseat of a red open car belonging to the Honolulu fire chief. Admiral Leahy sat in the front with the driver. At ten a.m., they set off on a whirlwind six-hour tour of the military facilities. General Richardson had devised the itinerary and wanted the president to see everything possible. Everywhere they went, cheering crowds greeted them, and Roosevelt responded with smiles and waves.
What transpired during this tour and on subsequent days was not officially recorded. This was the only presidential wartime conference for which no minutes were kept. What is known draws on the memories and agendas of the participants and those around them at the time. Biographers for both officers report that Nimitz and Leahy were virtually left out of the conversation during the entire day of touring as “Douglas” and “Franklin,” as they addressed each other despite their longtime rivalry, discussed what they observed, and even engaged in some reminiscence about life in Washington before the war.15 The president invited all three to dinner at his temporary residence, a cream-colored stucco mansion with a beautiful view of the surf crashing on Waikiki beach below.
After dinner, the officers followed the president into the home’s living room, where the Navy had erected a large map of the Pacific. The room also contained other maps and paraphernalia that indicated that the Navy had come fully equipped to state its case, while MacArthur had just himself. It was evident to MacArthur that he would have “to go it alone.”16
The president rolled his wheelchair up to the map, grabbed a bamboo pointer, and slapped it against the map. Turning to the general, he asked, “Well, Douglas, where do we go from here?” MacArthur immediately responded, “Mindanao, Mr. President, then Leyte—and then Luzon.”17
MacArthur and Nimitz each took turns presenting his case for how to fight the future of the Pacific war, especially which route to take to Japan. Admiral Leahy reported that the president listened carefully to both men, stopping each periodically to ask questions or to point the conversation in a specific direction.
Nimitz presented what was in truth Admiral King’s position, since he had already indicated to King that he agreed with the men on his own staff that the Philippine route was best. Admiral Leahy noted that Nimitz not only lacked the eloquence of MacArthur, but it was obvious he was arguing King’s position, not necessarily his own. When the president asked him if having the Navy in Manila Bay would contribute to a successful conclusion to the war, he admitted it would. When MacArthur asked how they would neutralize the three hundred thousand Japanese troops in the Philippines if the islands were bypassed, he had no answer.
As for MacArthur, he spoke of the seventeen million Filipinos who he claimed remained loyal to the United States. He took the opportunity to discuss the Navy’s use of Marines in massed frontal assaults on enemy-held islands, which he said was wasteful of American lives. When the president, who remained neutral throughout, pressed MacArthur about what many in Washington said would be the high cost in American lives of a Philippines invasion, the general denied it, claiming his losses would be no greater than they have been in his other amphibious assaults. He told Roosevelt that modern infantry weapons made frontal attacks outdated, and that only mediocre commanders engaged in them. Finally, he claimed the Filipino people would rise up to support an invasion by U.S. troops, while the loyalty of the population of Formosa, which had been under Tokyo’s rule for fifty years, was an open question.
MacArthur argued the strategic and tactical importance of Luzon. He told the president that the massive Japanese forces in the islands would be able to attack American ships trying to bypass them by using their heavy bombers based there. He questioned how American voters would react to allowing four thousand American POWs to continue starving in Japanese prison camps while the Navy went elsewhere. MacArthur knew the condition of the prisoners because he maintained regular contact with American and Filipino guerrilla leaders in the Philippines throughout the war.
According to Nimitz, MacArthur emphasized that Americans would condemn Roosevelt for abandoning “17 million loyal Filipino Christians . . . in favor of first liberating Formosa and returning it to China.”18
Even before the final day of the conference, Nimitz concluded that MacArthur had won his case. He was correct. The admiral did not know whether the president was won over by MacArthur’s strategic arguments, his emphasis on the United States’ moral obligation to liberate the Filipinos, or a desire to avoid a political scandal just before the next election.19
When MacArthur returned to his headquarters in Australia, he told his staff that the president had given him permission to proceed with planning the invasion of the Philippines. He gave the assembled officers details of the conference and spoke highly of the president’s support. For his part, Roosevelt told a Honolulu press conference, “We are going to get the Philippines back, and without question General MacArthur will take a part in it.” SWPA press releases for the remainder of the war would speak highly of Washington’s support for the victories MacArthur’s forces were achieving. It is almost as if two men who clearly understood each other had made a “scratch my back and I will scratch yours” deal. Their Honolulu conference helped the general move ahead with his war and the president to proceed to victory in the November elections without the specter of an angry MacArthur, who remained a favorite of the American public, in the background.20
The president left Honolulu and sailed first to Alaska, and then to the shipyard at Bremerton, Washington, where he addressed ten thousand workers in a speech broadcast nationwide. He spoke of the close cooperation between himself and “my old friend General MacArthur.” While traveling, he wrote to MacArthur to confirm his support for the general’s plan: “Some day there will be a flag-raising in Manila—and without question I want you to do it.”21
Although the president had the power, he did not want to tell the Joint Chiefs what their decision should be between the Philippines and Formosa. Instead, he had Admiral Leahy, who was never truly convinced of King’s Formosa-first strategy, make the case for him. Under pressure from King and his war plans chief, Rear Admiral Charles M. Cooke, the Chiefs would not reach a final decision for months, although in the meantime they did authorize MacArthur to occupy Leyte, an island in the central Philippines, which could then be used to reduce the effectiveness of the enemy’s air strength on Luzon.22
Such moves were all in the near future, however. For now, MacArthur, who firmly believed he had the president’s support, or at least acted as if he had it, had to continue his victorious march up the New Guinea coast before he could turn to the Philippines and fulfill his pledge to the Filipino people.
CHAPTER 20
Breakout from Wewak
MacArthur’s policy of isolating powerful Japanese positions, allowing them to choose between surrender or death by starvation and disease, paid an important dividend. It permitted him to move along the New Guinea coast with unexpected speed, destroying smaller enemy units along the way. The largest of those isolated Japanese forces was the Eighteenth Army, commanded by Lieutenant General Hatazo Adachi.
Hunkered down along a seven-mile-wide corridor of jungle and swamp in and around the coastal town of Wewak, Adachi’s force of sixty tho
usand soldiers had waited two months for either a relief force or orders from higher authorities. Neither came. With supplies running low and hundreds of men dying from malnutrition and disease each day, the army had resorted to confiscating the fields of local farmers and planting its own crops in hopes of survival. Rain pounded Adachi’s troops almost daily while patrols regularly brought back news of Allied successes all around them. They were surrounded by Australian troops to their east, virtually impenetrable mountainous jungles to the south, the Allied-controlled sea to the north, and American forces in the west. Periodic bombing by Allied planes compounded their misery.
The plight of General Adachi and his men was widely known around the globe. Time magazine referred to him as the “Jap in a Trap.”1 They were on the minds of virtually everyone associated with the war. The Sixth Army’s Alamo Scouts devised a plan to kidnap Adachi and bring him back as a prisoner of war. A Scout team leader, John McGowen, witnessed a Japanese-American interrogator questioning a Japanese sergeant who had been involved in building Adachi’s headquarters building. Using diagrams of the building and surrounding area, based on information provided by the prisoner, the Scouts devised an operation to get the general, using both a submarine and a PT boat. On May 24, they submitted the plan to General Krueger, who refused to endorse it, saying that capturing Adachi was not worth the life of one Alamo Scout.2 General MacArthur had already decided that Adachi was a nuisance who could be dealt with after Japan surrendered.
Adachi needed food and medical supplies for his troops, and an escape from the trap. His only recourse was to march the one hundred miles up the coast toward Aitape and attack the Americans. If he could break through their defenses, his men could find the food they so desperately needed.