Pearl Harbour - A novel of December 8th (31 page)

“And why do they not see us as their friend?” Hirohito asked sharply.

“They are irrational.”

“I would think, given the rumors I have heard, that they have reason to be irrational regarding our good intentions,” the Emperor replied sharply.

There was an intaking of breath by Sugiyama and no one spoke. The Emperor knew of what happened in Nanking and other cities across China, the entire world knew, and though there was the tacit understanding it would never be spoken of directly in front of the Imperial Presence, it was now clearly on his mind.

“I would expect better of our men. The tradition of the samurai is one of chivalry. What will happen if that is not displayed when we move to free the peoples of the Philippines and the East Indies of their Western occupiers? What then?”

“Sire, the army has always fought by the code of the samurai and will do so in the future,” Sugiyama replied, and there was the slight edge of defiance in his voice.

“I expect nothing less,” Hirohito retorted. “But you have not answered my question of the moment. You promise five months, but war is never a matter of promises fulfilled; it is an arena of the unexpected.”

“Sire, your grandfather faced the same question against the Russians thirty-seven years past. There was no absolute promise of victory. In fact, the odds were higher against us then as compared to now.”

Konoye looked sidelong at Sugiyama. Was there a veiled insult there, a statement that the Emperor lacked the fortitude of his illustrious grandfather?

Hirohito did not respond.

“I can promise you, sire, that in five months all that we seek in the South Seas will be ours and then our position impregnable.”

“Your Majesty,” Nagano interjected. “We are like the patient that has been found to have a cancer. The situation is grave, the doctors will tell us, but if we operate now, immediately, the odds are good that the cancer will be removed and our life saved. That cancer is the ever daily growing of the strength of other powers in the world at our expense. The economy of America booms because of the war. Even Great Britain holds out, and marshals new strength. We, however, with each passing day will grow more vulnerable. Operate now and we survive, delay but a little while longer and the chance will be gone forever.”

“The Americans, and what of them?” the Emperor asked. “You have focused on the South Seas. What they have in the Philippines is of little real consequence to them. A mere extension of a finger with no worth. Their strength is coiled and waiting elsewhere.”

Nagano nodded.

“Sire, the opening blow will destroy that. Once their strength is destroyed it will take a half year or more for them to marshal a response, and by then, as General Sugiyama has pointed out, all that we need for a prolonged struggle, if need be, will already be flowing to our factories here in Japan and Manchuria.”

“A prolonged fight then, is that what you promise?”

The two military men looked at Konoye, who remained silent for a moment, then finally, raised his head to speak.

“According to the plans to which the army and navy have committed themselves, the total destruction of all major American forces in the Pacific will be achieved in the first days. If they venture a retaliation strike it will take half a year or more. In that interval two new carriers will join the fleet. A thousand more planes and their pilots will be ready for battle, with all the fuel needed. A second battle will go as the first, the same as with the Russians at Tsushima. Defeated thus a second time, the Americans will see the inevitable. The negotiations that are now stalled will always be waiting and known to them through contacts in neutral countries. We shall then offer honorable terms to them, that if they simply accept our position in the western Pacific there will be peace. It is that simple.”

“The difference between the position of my grandfather and we ourself is this,” the Emperor replied, his gaze fixed upon Sugiyama, obviously the veiled insult not forgotten.

“The plan of our grandfather was adroit. The illustrious Admiral Togo promised him victory at sea; our ships were known to be superior to those of the Russians in armaments, training, speed, and gunnery. But on land, if sufficiently aroused, the Russians could drag the war on for years. The adroitness was his knowledge of the Americans and the vanity of their President Roosevelt. So even before the war had started, this first of the Roosevelts was cultivated and once war started already approached to act as a negotiator to the unpleasant crisis that had suddenly appeared. And he played his role and negotiated a peace after we had defeated the Russians at sea, but before they could overwhelm us with their endless supply of men.

“We will concur with the opinion of some that we conceded far too much to this Roosevelt to gain that peace, but nevertheless most of our goals and position was thus established and with it respect for Japan as a nation among equals.

“But our goal was achieved. Your plan is predicated upon an eventual negotiated settlement with the Americans. We see no reference to that here now. Who will negotiate? Who will be the facilitator between us and the Americans and British? Surely not Russia, nor Germany?”

“Sire, that is why I argue that we still pursue the diplomatic up until the actual moment of battle,” Konoye replied forcefully. “If war then does come, we can present to the world the argument that negotiations have broken down for the moment, and we are willing at any time to return to the table and seek a just and honorable peace.” Hirohito nodded in agreement.

“You have traveled extensively there,” the Emperor said. “We have not. Will they accept such an offer after we attack?”

Konoye hesitated. And knew that here was the central core of the issue of war and peace with America.

They, the Americans, were different; they saw the world in a different light. They wished to believe, they actually did believe, that they could represent some higher order of things in this world. War to them was not a norm, a continuum of an eternal struggle for survival in this world; it was an aberration to be avoided. They had stayed out of the last war until nearly the bitter end, and thus paid but a fraction of the price in blood and treasure as result, in fact had emerged in a way as the ultimate victor.

Even now though their president was all but engaged in an undeclared war in the Atlantic against the Germans, still the vast majority of Americans were vocal about their desire to stay out of any war, no matter where, unless it came directly to their shores. Would they perceive an attack upon their fleet as such a violation, to be answered with vengeance, or would they still remain detached, fight halfheartedly for a while, then be swayed back to the negotiating table with words of peace.

There will be no persuasive third power to be the negotiator as the first Roosevelt was between us and the Russians, Konoye realized.

Would they be willing to talk at all or would they finally bestir themselves? If so, that was truly to be feared. Nagano could speak proudly of the two new carriers about to be launched and the two mighty battleships all but completed, their eighteen-inch guns the greatest ever put to sea. And yet there were ironies. To conceal the building site of the battleships a vast screen had been erected around the harbor, made out of bamboo, canvas, and rope. Merely to build that had stripped all of Japan of rope and canvas for months. America? America could build a dozen such ships and it would be but a drop in the bucket for them as far as national effort went, and there would be no absurdity of a rope shortage as a result. Even now, their naval liaison in Washington was reporting that the Americans planned to construct another dozen carriers, launching one a month starting late next year, ships far more modem and capable than Akagi and Kaga, the current backbone of the Imperial Fleet.

If whatever they started on moved yet faster on that path, he realized, what then could he say to the Emperor seated before him.

“Sire, I suggest we continue negotiations right up to the day of attack, if indeed such attack should prove necessary. It can still bear fruit as I have said; if not, it can still leave the door open afterward for a settlement honorable to both sides.” He regretted it even as he said it. He had not said clearly enough the third consideration ... that perhaps the Americans might not want to negotiate once hostilities had started.

Hirohito slowly nodded and then reached into his breast pocket and drew out a crumpled sheet of paper, taking a moment to flatten it out on his knee before holding it up close to his eyes so he could read.

“All the seas, everywhere,
Are brothers, one to another
Why then do the winds and waves of strife
Rage so violently through the world?”

Konoye immediately recognized the poem. It was by the Emperor’s grandfather, the Emperor Meiji.

No one spoke, awed by the strange gesture.

“From time to time we remember that poem,” the Emperor said, “reminding ourself of our grandfather’s desire for peace even as war approached.”

The three stood silent.

“I still prefer the path of peace,” Sugiyama announced, “even as I prepare for war.”

“As do I,” Nagano chimed in.

Konoye looked back and forth at the two, unable to conceal his amazement. They had agreed, even as they disagreed, and at that moment Konoye could see all so clearly what was about to happen . . . and it did.

“Can you assure us of victory if diplomacy fails?” the Emperor asked yet again.

The two military men gave sharp nods of assertion.

“Then, if such is the case, diplomacy shall continue. If by October 15 the Americans have not accepted more direct and meaningful offers of settlement, you are released to fulfill you duties as men of war.”

The Emperor now looked directly at Konoye and nothing more needed to be said.

There would be meetings and more meetings, but the decision had just been reached. It was not done with the sharp drawing of a sword to then be held high. It was couched in terms that spoke of peace and regret of strife and yet led to the same conclusion. There was a nod of dismissal, and the three left the audience room; as the privy seal closed the door behind them, the general and admiral both exhaled noisily, looked at each other, and nodded.

“It is done,” Sugiyama whispered.

“There is still time, though,” Konoye replied. “You heard that clearly as well.”

Nagano smiled and shook his head. “Do you honestly think talk will change anything now? The Americans have refused to meet you, their ignominious demands to humiliate us we have refused. Your continuing to talk is meaningless, sir.”

“Are you saying my position is meaningless?” Konoye snapped back angrily.

Sugiyama stepped between the two, but it was obvious he was now standing beside Nagano and not trying to intervene.

“If your talk succeeded today with the Americans, what then? Do you honestly think I could go back to my comrades fighting in China and tell them that four years of blood and sacrifice were for naught? That we should retire with heads bowed low in abject apology and abandon China to the brigands and Communists? Never!”

He snapped the last word out loudly, so loudly that Konoye looked back nervously to the door of the audience chamber.

“And if you asked that of us, do you honestly think you would survive or I would survive for long?”

“Do not forget February,” Nagano whispered.

“Is that a threat?” Konoye replied.

“No, just a statement of reality,” Sugiyama retorted. “The army, as an act of honor, would rebel if so asked, rebel to save the honor of Japan and the Emperor himself.”

Konoye looked one to the other and saw the openness of it now. A coup by a deranged group of young radicals had indeed created what they had desired. Though denounced by the leaders of the army and navy, it had given them ever-increasing power, the threat always in the background. From that day forward, with their platitudes about national destiny and honor, it was they who had come to dictate power. Creating the paradox of a war in China they claimed they did not seek, and now by extension, a war with Britain and America. To withdraw was impossible.

He could see now that his days were numbered. It would be Tojo and the army who would now openly lead the nation. If negotiations suddenly did break open and the Americans came to the table, willing to make concessions, he would be assassinated before he could ever get to that table. If he stayed, he would be the prime minister that would lead Japan into a war not of his design. Assassinated or forced to resign, that would be the next step, and he could see so clearly, waiting in the wings, it would be either Sugiyama or the minister of war in his own cabinet, Lieutenant General Hideki Tojo.

Combined Fleet Headquarters: 3 October 1941

Standing to greet the two, Admiral Yamamoto waited for them to begin, half suspecting the reason behind their “urgent need to talk.”

After the usual greetings it was Captain Kusaka, chief of staff for Nagumo, who came straight to the point.

“Sir, we feel so deeply opposed to the Hawaiian attack that we have brought a letter stating our joint opposition. We simply think it is wrong and very likely to fail in a manner disastrous to Japan,” Kusaka held out an official document.

Yamamoto took the letter and read it slowly and carefully. Once or twice he stopped and looked at one section or another. Once he went back and reread a section.

“I appreciate your courage and your professionalism in handling this in such a thoughtful manner.” Yamamoto indicated the letter, which he had placed on the table between them. “I take very seriously your concerns, and I agree with you that this is a real risk. However, let me ask you a few questions.”

“If we follow the advice of those who want us to focus the fleet on the south, what happens to Tokyo if the unharmed American Fleet decides to come here? We have a plan to sail from Japan to Hawaii. What if they have a plan to sail from Hawaii to Japan?”

“Much of Tokyo is paper and wood. Ask Commander Genda what he saw in Britain of the German bombing campaign. Their homes tended to be brick and stone and still they were destroyed. Can you imagine what would happen to Tokyo or any of our great cities if our wooden and paper structures were bombed?”