Target Tokyo: Jimmy Doolittle and the Raid That Avenged Pearl Harbor (57 page)

The Japanese prepared statements allegedly based on the confessions and then read them back to the aviators, who never saw actual English translations. Nielsen recalled that his statement as read to him noted only that he had bombed steel mills; there was no mention of targeting civilians or schools and churches. The others recalled similar statements. The Japanese demanded the men sign them, each one dated May 22. Nielsen refused, but after the Japanese threatened him, decided it wasn’t worth a fight.

The airmen’s confessions proved far different from the ones the Japanese claimed the men made. Excerpts of the alleged statements that the gendarmerie forwarded to General Hajime Sugiyama proved so outlandish and contradictory as to be almost unbelievable. On the one hand, they painted the raiders as incompetent cowards, so terrified of Japan’s powerful fighters that they dropped bombs on any target and fled. This was intended, no doubt, to cover up the incredible defense failures that had allowed sixteen bombers to penetrate the homeland, pummel the capital, and escape unmolested. On the other hand, the alleged confessions portrayed the airmen as bloodthirsty marauders who wanted to kill women and children, statements Japan
could use against them in future criminal proceedings as well as in the court of world opinion.

“What were your feelings when bombing Nagoya?” an interrogator asked Hite, according to excerpts of his alleged statement.

“I thought it natural to drop bombs without locating the targets, destroying civilian houses and wounding civilians. I thought that this was one of the objectives of guerrilla warfare,” the Texan supposedly answered, characterizing America’s tactics with the same language the Japanese government had used in the press to describe previous carrier raids. “While bombing I was filled with feelings of fear and thought it would be much more prudent to drop the bombs anywhere as quickly as possible and flee. At that time I thought it was too much for me to bomb accurately.”

“Did you fire your guns while fleeing from Nagoya?” the interrogator continued.

“I did not mention this point before today but, honestly speaking, five or six minutes after we left the city, we saw a place that looked like a primary school and saw many children playing,” he allegedly said. “The pilot lowered the altitude of the plane rapidly and ordered the gunner to get prepared. When the plane was in the oblique position, the pilot ordered us to fire; therefore, we fired at once.”

Billy Farrow’s supposed confession echoed Hite’s.

“Although you say that you aimed at military installations, in reality you injured innocent civilians?” the interrogator asked.

“I’m sorry about that,” Farrow supposedly answered. “We are only temporary personnel and did not receive full training, so we cannot be sure of hitting the target. Moreover, at the time the Japanese Army was firing anti-aircraft guns at us so all I cared for was to drop the bombs as quickly as possible and go. This is why homes were destroyed and civilians were killed.”

“You fired at the children in the primary school on your way out to the sea after leaving the city of Nagoya, didn’t you?”

“Really, I’m sorry about that,” the South Carolinian repeated. “There was a place which looked like a school, with many people there. As a parting shot, with a feeling of ‘damn these Japs,’ I made a power dive and carried out some strafing. There was absolutely no defensive fire from below.”

The Japanese likewise cast Harold Spatz
as a gunner bent on revenge. “I aimed at the children in the school yard and strafed,” he supposedly said. “My personal feeling at that time was to feed these ‘Japs’ their own medicine.”

The raid had in fact killed civilians and some children, which the Japanese used as a political weapon. Just as Roosevelt had capitalized on the mission’s success to help bolster American morale, the Japanese used the attack to outrage and unite the rattled public. The bogus confessions served as the perfect tool to ignite that fury—and set the stage for a trial that could land the captured airmen in front of a firing squad.

Although many of the bogus confessions incriminated the aviators, the Japanese used others to tar senior American leaders, particularly Doolittle—the nation’s new hero. That was the case with Jacob DeShazer’s confession. “We thought that it would be permissible to drop the bombs as rapidly as possible, killing, injuring, and confusing as many as possible,” the bombardier said. “Col. Doolittle and other senior officers, and of course, the pilot, too, did not give us any special precautions. Of course, the original target was the oil tanks; though the civilian homes around the tanks were also sought.”

Bob Meder’s confession went even further, not only blaming Doolittle but also pointing out that this savage new form of warfare was how America fought. How else could the United States weaken Japanese resolve?

“You bombed many homes of civilians and killed many of them, besides hitting the factories; what do you think about that?”

“We didn’t mind their casualties too much because Col. Doolittle, in his order, did not specially caution us to avoid bombing them.”

“Don’t you even feel sorry about injuring innocent women and children?”

“As an individual, I personally feel sorry, but I think that it is inevitable in modern warfare. We cannot help but ignore such conditions because demoralization of the people achieves one of our objectives.”

ONE OF THE OBJECTIVES
of William Standley, America’s ambassador to Russia, was to sort out the diplomatic mess caused by Ski York and his crew. Standley had been shocked by the news that one of Doolittle’s crews had landed in Vladivostok
—information the Russian government failed to disclose for three days. The first report the ambassador had received was that the Russians planned to intern the raiders near Khabarovsk, a decision made without consultation with the American authorities—just as the crew had suspected.

A four-star admiral who had served as chief of naval operations from 1933 to 1937, Standley had arrived in Russia to begin his ambassadorship barely two weeks earlier. He sat down for his first meeting at the Kremlin with Soviet leader Joseph Stalin two days later, on April 23, a meeting that touched on the fate of the raiders.

“Of course, Mr. Ambassador, they should not have landed on Soviet territory,” Stalin said. “We’ll have to intern them in accordance with International Law.”

To Standley’s relief, Stalin displayed “no annoyance” over the matter and “regretted” the need to intern the crew. The Soviet leader said the airmen were safe and would be well cared for in Russia, adding that the pilot claimed to have run out of fuel and been forced to divert. Standley told him that the other bombers had flown to China as ordered and that this one must have been unable reach Chinese territory.

The United States still hoped to smuggle the aviators out—a plan that involved assigning them to the embassy as assistant military attachés—since so far only the Russian and American governments knew of the bomber’s diversion. That hope was dashed the following day in a press conference in Kuibyshev, Russia’s wartime capital, located on the banks of the Volga River some five hundred miles east of Moscow.

“What would happen if an American plane was forced to land on Soviet territory after bombing Japan?” an American reporter had asked.

The question floored Solomon Lozovsky, head of the Soviet Information Bureau, who knew Japanese correspondents were present. “There’s no use talking about something which may never happen,” he stammered.

The Russians feared the ruse was up. Afraid of possible Japanese retaliation, Russia opted to release the news, blaming America afterward for the leak. Standley was embarrassed. “Look, fellows,” he told reporters. “I’ve really nothing for you. The Soviet Government acted in the only way they could, once the news was out.”

Standley sat down on the evening of April 25 with Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov, who complained that the bomber’s diversion to Russia had only complicated relations
with Japan. Standley told him that General Marshall expressed appreciation for the courtesy Russia had extended to the crew and assured them that the landing was “wholly unintentional.” “After thanking me for this message Molotov asked me to request my Government to take adequate steps to prevent such landings in the future,” the ambassador wrote in his report of the meeting. “I stated that I felt sure that my Government had already issued such instructions.”

Standley followed up with a personal note to Molotov, requesting permission for an American representative to visit the interned airmen. The Russian foreign minister responded on April 27, “stating in effect that since the crew was being transferred to a region nearer the center of the USSR the visit could not be made at the present time; that upon the arrival of the crew at the new place of residence I would be advised when and where my representative might visit the crew.”

The possibility of a visit with the crew excited officials at the War Department, where analysts were busy sifting through Japanese propaganda broadcasts to decipher important details of the raid. Secretary of State Hull fired off a telegram to Standley with eight questions the War Department wanted answered. Those included the route flown as well as details on the enemy opposition encountered, from fighters and barrage balloons to antiaircraft fire. The department further requested specifics on the targets attacked and the results as well as on the measures Japan took to camouflage its factories and industries. “Of course, information regarding the welfare and living conditions of the crew and their treatment is desired,” the message concluded. “It might also be possible to take from them messages for relatives and friends in the United States.”

American officials weren’t the only ones interested in the crew. Of the eighty airmen who had participated in the raid, Japan had managed to capture just eight. York’s crew represented a chance to increase that number. The ambassador to Russia, Naotake Sato, a career diplomat and former Japanese foreign minister, threatened his Soviet counterparts, according to American intelligence intercepts. “If the Soviet merely intern American aircraft which lands in Maritime provinces after raiding Japan, they will, in effect, be providing Americans with a base, inconsistent with the neutrality treaty and dangerous to Soviet-Japanese relationship,” Sato argued. “If the incident were repeated on a large scale Japan could not accept responsibility for consequences
.” Further instructions from Tokyo days later told Sato to make clear that it was not all right for Russia to “merely intern the planes and crews.”

Russia refused to be bullied, arguing that internment was in line with international law and therefore did not violate the Soviet-Japanese Neutrality Pact. Though Russia would “endeavor to avoid” any misunderstandings, officials emphasized that Japan needed to back off. “Whatever steps are taken the Soviet government is to decide,” Russia countered on April 30. “Any criticisms of the steps we take must be made on the principle of friendly nations. Any act contravening this principle is to be condemned. No complaints should be made unless made in a friendly spirit.”

Tokyo ordered Sato to again press the issue. “If the United States sees that the Soviet winks at this sort of mischief, the United States will keep doing it on a larger scale. Therefore, it is essential to stop it before it starts,” Tokyo instructed Sato to argue. “The United States cannot bomb Japan unless she does so from someone else’s territory.” Then there was the matter of York’s bomber. “Since the other planes which escaped headed for Central China, it is evident that this lone plane fled intentionally in the direction it took,” Tokyo warned. “One more occurrence will necessitate measures on our part and have a tremendous influence on our mutual relations.”

Despite Japan’s threats, its pressure was limited. While Russia was bogged down in the west against Germany—and reluctant to open a second front in the east—Japan likewise could not risk another fight so close to home. If war broke out between Japan and Russia, America would no doubt flood the latter with bombers that would then day after day pound Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya, forcing Japan to recall its forces to defend the homeland. Sato understood this reality and on May 7 cautioned his superiors to back down: was the fate of this one bomber crew worth another war? “I advise that we discard all small feelings against the Soviet Union and work towards a softening of feelings,” Sato wrote. “Basically, the main idea is for us to take a friendly attitude toward the Soviet Union and make them become less watchful of us and eventually to draw them toward us.”

Against the backdrop of these contentious negotiations, Russia relocated York and his crew in late April. Guards at the dacha in Khabarovsk ushered the airmen into several cars around 10 p.m. and drove for half an hour, stopping alongside a single railcar
parked at a siding outside of the city. The raiders climbed aboard to find an aisle on one side with compartments along the other. The dim glow of candles—shielded from the outside by blackout curtains—illuminated primitive compartments that featured little more than wooden benches without cushions and no floor carpeting. Overhead racks held rolled-up straw mattresses, and the smell of dirt hung in the air. “It didn’t take us long,” Emmens recalled, “to figure that we were going to be sitting on those hard benches in the daytime and at night we would be sprawled on those straw mattresses.”

Crews outside loaded the car with loaves of black bread, three-foot bolognas, tins of caviar, and cases of vodka—all of which the airmen realized pointed to a long trip. A train engine soon arrived and attached to the railcar, pulling it to a nearby station to link it up with a longer train. About midnight the train set out west for what turned out to be a twenty-one-day journey along the Trans-Siberian Railroad. The scenery at times was beautiful as the train rolled through forests and alongside rivers. Some days the conductor pulled onto sidings to allow other trains to pass, including many loaded down with troops headed to fight the Germans. Unlike the raiders, who traveled in compartments, Russian forces crammed into boxcars without bunks and only straw to cover the floor. Horses and men occasionally even crowded together.