The two commanders—Haig and Rawlinson—had conveniently decided to ignore all reports that the German positions were still completely intact. Dozens of British raiding parties had suffered death and agony in the days and weeks leading up to the assault to find the truth. “Not possible with a million shells,” was the accepted wisdom as the attitude was, “let-us-not-allow-the-facts-to-interfere-with-the-plan.”
In fact, Haig described the first hours of the battle as: “Very successful attack this morning... All went like clockwork... The battle is going very well for us and already the Germans are surrendering freely. The enemy is so short of men that he is collecting them from all parts of the line. Our troops are in wonderful spirits and full of confidence.”
But the actual outcome was what the angel of truth had always predicted: the greatest military disaster in history; according to one estimate, of the 100,000 British troops that went over the top that fateful day, only 35,000 returned.
The rest were alone, terrified and dying in horrible pain. Many of these brave young men pulled themselves into one of the countless shell holes and slowly waited for the end of their suffering, thinking of the homes and families they would never see again and of the laughter and happiness they would never again enjoy. A few got out their little Bibles and hoped for a moment of solace. When the rain started in the early afternoon on that terrible Saturday, the shell holes slowly filled with water and the final ignominy came to many of these gloriously brave—but terribly led—eager young soldiers as they slowly drowned in their shell holes, shivering from the cold, alone, discarded, and in agonizing pain for hours before a slow death ended their sufferings. And all for nothing—no ground was gained. The two commanders lied and boasted of a “limited success.”
“Of course, I am now a traitor to my country—I have told you and you can call Mr. Churchill on that telephone on your desk, Mr. President.”
“Yes, I could do that, Kishi.”
The moment the President of the United States of America called him “Kishi” for a second time, the Ambassador suddenly realized that he could be talking to a potential ally.
Stimson asked insistently, “OK, Kishi, but what about our Philippines possessions? What guarantees can you give that they will not suffer the same fate as our Hawaiian possessions? Or that you will not attack America proper?”
Nomura decided to increase the stakes,
“Mr. President, let’s go in a time machine and advance 100 years. In 2041, who will be your allies? The British Empire, the Bolsheviks, the Chinese Nationalists, the French, the Dutch, the Germans, the Japanese? Who?”
“What do you think, Mr. Ambassador?” Stimson asked.
“Well, that is what makes Japan last: for we Japanese, ten years is just a quarter of an hour, as we think in terms of centuries. Here is an example: there is a famous Japanese whisky maker based in Osaka. This company decided to branch out and start making and selling beer. It took this company 45 years before it made a profit from its beer making. Is there an American company that would have the patience and sense of purpose to wait 45 years before making a profit? I suspect not.
“We Japanese think that maintaining our cultural purity is the most important thing we can do. We have no colored colonies to pollute the Japanese spirit of frugality, hard work and community. Here is an example of how we Japanese work as a team: after the Great Kantō earthquake in 1923, over 95% of all wallets found were returned intact to the police so the money could be returned to its rightful owner; to do otherwise would be dishonorable for us Japanese. And the Japanese spirit of teamwork and working together is unequalled in the world. And this is solely because of the purity of our culture. Other countries hate us for this, they envy us for it, but this is the Japanese way, and we Japanese believe this is what will sustain us over the next 500 years. Remember, our Emperor’s family dates from 11 February 660 BC—that’s 660 years before the western Christ. Of course, there will be disasters, and defeats, and mistakes, but we Japanese work together as a team, as we always have and will always do so.”
The Ambassador changed tack,
“Predicting the past is far easier than the other way, but I would say the millstone for the European countries is their colonies. As a young man, Mr. Churchill was part of the last cavalry charge of his empire. And that is the way he still thinks—as a European colonist, in spite of him being technically an American because of his American mother. But these colonies are very much a two-edged sword. In this respect, Germany was actually the winner of Versailles: by stripping Germany of all its African colonies, none of these African natives could ever claim German paternity. And looking at Africa as a single battle ground on its own, the Germans could easily have taken over all of the Dark Continent. You’ll recall the brilliant hit-and-run campaign of Lettow Vorbeck. With just 15,000 men, he taunted and beat an Allied force of 400,000 men. He was a later-day John McNeill. With the likes of Lettow Vorbeck, Germany could easily have controlled most, if not all, of Africa. But, with Versailles came the complete evisceration of all these German colored colonies.”
“But in these colored colonies the peoples will always be troublesome and some may actually pollute their motherland if and when they somehow settle in their motherland—can you imagine a million Mohammedans encamped in civilized England practicing their crude and primitive rituals: half-naked fakirs in the streets of London; restaurants in Cambridge next to the university colleges serving curries and spices; and even mosques next to churches in Birmingham with all those imams spouting their crazy ideas? And remember, the Mohammedans’ Koran teaches there will be no peace until all the infidels are slain. I know it sounds ridiculous today, but it could possibly happen in the distant future. Who knows? And were that to happen, then these European countries will start to be overrun and destroyed, just as the Moors did to southern Europe hundreds of years ago. All these European countries will be destroyed, slowly, but ineluctably. So this is the most important unintended consequence of the madness of Versailles: Germany remains pure, while England and France now are burdened by these troublesome colored colonies; sooner or later, England and France will suffer.”
“So, Kishi, you’re saying the British are fucked?” King said with his usual subtlety.
Nomura answered with, “Yes, Admiral, I am. Now, Mr. Churchill is very good at talking about the English-speaking world, and the greatness of the white race, but I think this is very much overdone.”
“Mr. Stimson, to answer your question, after capturing Hong Kong and Singapore, I know that the Army intends to attack your Philippines possessions. We would never dare attack the 48 states of the United States itself, but the idiots in Tokyo think the American possessions in Asia are just that—Asian possessions.”
“When?”
“That I do not know, but I know the Army hotheads, so it is likely to be well before they are ready.”
Nomura had just laid down four aces and he knew it.
“So how could we work together?” the President asked with real interest.
“Well, were I you, I would assume that everything I have told you this evening is a lie. Then I would wait to see how events unfold. This risks nothing for you and only takes a week or two. In the interim, we all go about our business.
“If we can come to an agreement in for the next month or two, then our two countries could work together. We Japanese could work with you to establish an American-Japanese Asia Council. As we all know, Asia is rich in resources. We need oil, and you need rubber from Malaya and other raw materials. Using a new and expanded NIRA tailored for the countries in Asia, we could stabilize prices, remove the specter of unemployment and waste, and establish new independent governments, all under the joint protection of the United States and Japan—jointly, we would be the region’s policemen. Your country has made huge progress in those areas, and it is very, very unfortunate that your Supreme Court has ruled against it.”
“You can say that again,” Roosevelt said with real
malice. “That would teach those fucks a lesson if we could do a big NIRA in Asia.”
“There is one thing I can do that may be of some little assistance to you gentlemen,” the Ambassador stated.
“Go on,” said the President of the United States.
“I can signal Tokyo that we are speaking, and to halt all new offensive actions against your country’s possessions until the first of January.”
“Yes, that could be some little assistance,” Roosevelt said ruefully with a smile.
Nomura took a sheet of paper from his jacket and on it wrote in clear English, “The cherry blossoms are blooming early on the Potomac.”
Beneath it he wrote a short-wave frequency.
“Mr. President, can you have your naval radioman in the basement transmission center send this message now; there will be a single word reply.”
Roosevelt’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the secret, or as it now appeared, formerly-secret radio room.
Roosevelt nodded and Stimson rose and left the room.
Nomura withdrew a second piece of paper and wrote one word. He folded the paper, rose and stood in front of King, bowed and handed the paper to the Admiral.
“The answer code word is from a new American talking picture I enjoyed so much.”
Stimson returned.
Roosevelt said, “Mr. Ambassador, you have been very forthright with us today.”
Stimson’s heart missed a beat fearing the always-impulsive President was about to say something he would later regret.
“Can I offer you a drink?”
Stimson’s heart regained its natural rhythm.
The Ambassador smiled for the first time, and said that an American bourbon would be most pleasant.
“Like me, you’re a naval man, right Kishi?” the President asked by way of small talk.
“Yes, I am sir. I have had the honor to have served my Emperor.”
“See any action?”
Nomura held up his left hand, the smallest two fingers were both missing the first joint.
“Russian shell fragment when I served on the Takachiho, but I was luckier than the man standing next to me who was killed.”
“Tsushima?” King asked.
The Ambassador nodded.
A moment later, the phone rang and Roosevelt listened then replaced the handset in the instrument.
“Rosebud?” the President said, more as a question than as a statement.
King unfolded the paper and nodded.
“What does this mean?” Roosevelt asked.
“This means that all offensive operations against the United States’ possessions in Asia will cease, on land and at sea. A cessation of hostilities, an armistice.”
“And the British?” Stimson asked.
Nomura was slightly surprised, “Sir, Mr. President, this agreement is only regarding the United States.”
Roosevelt smiled, “That will piss off the gentleman in London no end.”
Professional curiosity got the better of King, “So what is the plan for Malaya and Singapore, and the Royal Navy task force, and their Force Z?”
“I was briefed by the new adviser who arrived from Japan last week—these details are far too sensitive for cables. Well, the plan is this.”
King leant forward and realized no admiral before or again would ever be in his unique position. (Yamamoto might have disputed that claim, however.)
“There are four senior Japanese submarines that have been given the task of locating and sinking the Repulse and the Prince of Wales. If they fail, then our aircraft based in the forward air fields in Saigon in French Indochina will locate and attack these two vessels. We are almost certain that Admiral Phillip will head north up, along the coast of Malaya, and as he does not think highly of aircraft attacking capital ships, he will have little or no aircraft protecting him.”
This last revelation made King look very directly at Stimson. As if in answer to King’s thought, Nomura said,
“Admiral King, the British Admiral Phillips has been sufficiently kind and generous to give newspaper interviews in both Pretoria and more recently in Singapore to that effect. In fact, we have the newspaper clippings of these precise interviews. In both sets of interviews, he stated that there were few Japanese aircraft in the region and quote ‘they are all second-rate’ and that, regardless, that ‘the big ships of the Royal Navy have nothing to fear from the sky; we are, after all, the British Royal Navy, which has ruled the seas since the time of Nelson.’ I also suspect that the English admiral thinks the Japanese a backward race and that 1905 was just a fluke. But he seems to conveniently forget that it was the English who created the Japanese Navy, who taught the Japanese Navy tactics, who even created the uniforms, and that my beloved Takachiho was built at Newcastle upon Tyne.”
27: The Chamber Pot
Washington
Wednesday, 10 December 1941
King and Stimson were waiting for the President, seated in the small alcove in front of the main door to the Oval Office. When he buzzed Miss Tully to announce his arrival, she told him of their presence. He grunted none too enthusiastically and told her to send them in.
King started, “Well it looks Nomura was right—the Repulse and the Prince of Wales are now both at the bottom of the ocean off Malaya.”
“Then it will simply be a matter of time before drunken Winston is on the scrambler. And what about Japanese activities against us?”
“It’s as if they have all gone home. It’s like a holiday—no submarine activity, not even over-flights, nothing, dead calm,” reported Stimson.
Stimson started on a fresh tack, “Mr. President, I want to bring this report to your attention. It’s from that man Dulles in Switzerland, and I think we need to review it here, the three of us.”
At the mention of Allen Dulles, the President feigned no recognition of the name.
“This man Dulles—you likely know his brother, the lawyer John Dulles—got his hands on this report from the Swiss security people. The gist of the story is the Soviets executed about 20,000 men in Soviet-occupied Poland. The Soviets had first bound the men’s hands behind them with barbed wire.”
Looking down at the report Stimson read, “According to Swiss and Swedish Red Cross officials, the Soviet NKVD executed in excess of 22,000 men, mostly army officers and policemen. Most victims had their hands bound behind their back by barbed wire.”
“Jesus. Fucking animals,” Roosevelt muttered.
Calmly, King said, “The British animosity to the Germans seems solely based on the Prime Minister’s views and the oleaginous clique of second-raters with which he surrounds himself. I do not understand how the British could be so blind. Frankly, the actions of the Germans in central Europe seem completely fair and reasonable as far as I am concerned in having German-speaking regions rejoin Germany or a greater German supra-nation. Now, I am just a naval person, but that gives me a perspective that I think some English lack. So while your party line plays well on the East Coast, about the ‘Arsenal for Democracy,’ it’s actually not true, and the Americans of German descent in the Midwest are, at best, lukewarm to the idea. And it’s clear from other reports that the Soviets have executed close to eight millions of their people since 1921—these are facts, not phantasies.”
“And let’s face some other unpleasant facts, Mr. President. Versailles was a joke—it was simply the French getting back at the Germans for 1870,” the Secretary of War said.
“1870?” Roosevelt was confused, in spite of his Harvard education, where his solitary C+ was his highest grade.
Stimson explained,
“In the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, the smart money was on the French—our generals Sheridan and Sherman were there observing the French, and they both wrote glowing reports lauding the French. The Times of London was effusive in its praise of the French and ridiculed the Prussians—‘this small war is likely to be settled in one afternoon.’ But there was one critical difference—technology. While the
French were using their tried and true bronze smooth bores, the Prussians were using the new rifled cast steel Krupp cannon. The Krupp cannon had essentially twice the range and could throw a far heavier shell. Actually, on the day, the Prussians used mainly what they called ‘grape’ or shrapnel shot that Henry Shrapnel had invented, but the point remains. That hot afternoon in 1870 was a slaughter, the French soldiers dropped like flies. They called the battlefield ‘the chamber pot’—that day, they were shit on from a great height.”
“So the French started a losing streak to their hated rivals that continues to this day—1870, and 1914, and last year. After 1870, and their loss of Alsace and Lorraine, the French bitterness spilled over at Versailles in 1919 and this lead to the creation of these nonsense so-called countries like Czecho-Slovakia and other mad artifices and constructs. And these so-called ‘countries’ were designed by the French solely to hem in and limit Germany. You know, in the Treaty of 1919, the Austrians—quiet reasonably—requested their country to be called ‘German Austria’ but the French nixed the name and the ‘German’ adjective was dropped. And the Slavs are even worse than the French—the Slavs in their half of the so-called ‘Czecho-Slovakia’ constructed 24 huge aerodromes. But the Slavs there had no bombers. However, their fellow Slavs in Russia—or the ‘Soviet Union’ as it is now called—had 120 squadrons of heavy bombers. No wonder the Germans were so reasonably concerned about that unsinkable aircraft carrier in ‘Slovakia.’ And let’s not forget Gavrilo Princip in Sarajevo in 1914; we must be realistic—southern Europe needs a powerful hand and the Germans have just the temperament to control those primitive and backward peoples.”
“And I agree with Ernie—the Germans do have a point. And with the sudden death of their leader this past September, who knows? From all the reports and with his comical moustache and his postman’s hat, he seemed fairly nutty, but certainly no more nutty than Mr. Churchill. And let’s be realistic, the Germans are a civilized race, whereas the Slavs, well, this Russian massacre just reinforces the point, and don’t forget the pogroms.”
The Goddess Of Fortune Page 25
