The Fall of Japan: The Final Weeks of World War II in the Pacific

by William Craig

The Commander in Chief of the Imperial Navy, Isoroku Yamamoto, was openly condemned when he told his admirals that Japan could not defeat the United States in a long war. Deeply disturbed at the prospect of disaster, Yamamoto conceived an operation designed to immobilize the United States Fleet for one year, and so give the Japanese time to win a sizable number of victories before attempting a negotiated settlement. This operation was the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Pearl Harbor was Yamamoto’s solution to the dilemma posed by his less practical colleagues.

Until the end of the war, few military men in Japan knew, as Admiral Yamamoto did, that in June of 1942 the Japanese Navy had been irreparably damaged and the Empire had suffered a fatal wound.

In the summer of 1943, one of them, Admiral Sokichi Takagi, was summoned to Tokyo by the Naval Ministry to conduct a survey of the war. He pored over available information and concluded that if the Americans succeeded in winning the Solomons, Japan must sue for peace. By the end of 1943 the Solomons fell, but Takagi still dared not circulate his conclusions in writing lest he be accused of defeatism—or worse, treason. Instead, he chose to approach top officials one by one, hoping to impress them individually with his country’s desperate situation. When he did, each man in turn was afraid to act on the warning.

Instead of devoting increased efforts to intercepting American supply lines, to attacking merchantmen and transports, the Japanese concentrated on the dreaded carriers.

Because of prohibition by the Japanese military, direct conversations with the United States had been ruled out of the question. Statesmen in Tokyo suggested Russia as an alternative because it offered the Army two distinct advantages. Two months before, even as Suzuki was asked to form his own cabinet, Russian Foreign Minister Molotov had informed the Japanese Ambassador, Naosoke Sato, that the Soviet Union would not renew its Neutrality Pact with Japan. It would thus lapse automatically in one year. The implications were obvious. But if the Russians could be persuaded to mediate between Japan and the United States, they would probably stay out of the war. And if Japan at the outset offered Stalin certain Far Eastern territorial concessions, in exchange Japan might get raw materials needed to continue the war.

Ketsu-Go would go into effect when enemy troops attempted to seize either offshore islands such as Cheju-do, or the main islands of Shikoku, Honshu, or Kyushu. It called for the all-out employment of every available weapon left in the arsenal. The Japanese had hoarded planes, boats, bullets and guns for one great battle. Five thousand two hundred and twenty-five aircraft were to be used as suicide planes. Many of them were hidden under trees or under camouflage nets. Their gas tanks held only enough fuel for one trip to an invasion beach.

Japanese planners realized that only a single battle could be waged and that it must begin and end at the beach. The kamikaze planes would concentrate on the transports and landing barges. Unlike other invasions where aircraft carriers and warships had been singled out, the prime targets this time would be the soldiers and Marines coming in through the surf. The reasoning was simple: Kill as many men as possible and shatter American morale.

the Japanese decided the Americans would land in Japan no later than November 1, 1945.

Though opinion was divided as to the actual point of the major thrust, it was finally agreed that Kyushu would receive the first blow.

In narrowing the choice of a first assault site to Kyushu, the defense strategists realized that they must have troops already in place when the attack came.

They guessed correctly. On May 28, 1945, a document had begun to circulate among the senior officers of the United States Army in the Pacific. On the cover was a simple title: Downfall, Strategic Plan. It was the blueprint for the invasion of the Japanese Home Islands.

One of the major items on the agenda at Potsdam had been the inclusion of Russia as a belligerent in the Pacific war at the earliest possible moment. By agreement at Yalta, Stalin was committed to entering the war within three months after the end of hostilities in Europe.

Stimson said that he welcomed Soviet participation in the struggle against Japan, and Stalin answered by saying that since both countries had worked so well together in the European conflict, he too was happy to share in the hardships of a joint effort against Japan.

In Tokyo, attention was irrevocably centered on Moscow. There, however, Ambassador Sato sensed the cold wind blowing from Potsdam. On July 20, he had wired Togo: “I recommend acceptance of virtually any terms.…”

Admiral Purnell and General Groves had often discussed the importance of putting a second bomb on target as quickly as possible after the first in order to impress the Japanese with the fact that the United States was actually in production of the weapon, that the future held only the prospect of more and more atomic warfare. It was Purnell who had initially proposed that it would take two bombs to end the war.

Six ministers were for peace providing only that the Emperor’s status was left unchanged. Anami, Umezu and Toyoda wanted this provision plus three others: Japan must be allowed to try its own war criminals; Japan must be permitted to disarm its own men in the field; and America must not occupy the Home Islands.

Predictably, Russia balked. When Ambassador Averell Harriman presented Truman’s message to Molotov in Moscow, the Russian stalled, then later recalled Harriman and told him that the Soviets would agree to the settlement with the condition that they participate in the Allied High Command. Harriman had been briefed by Truman at Potsdam on just such an eventuality, and despite Molotov’s insistence, he refused to transmit such a proposal to Washington.

While statesmen in Tokyo waited impatiently for the Allied answer, a small group of Army officers on Ichigaya Hill, the nerve center of the Army, were plotting a revolution. For more than two weeks, ever since the Potsdam declaration had been issued, these men had been preparing for the day when they might have to act against the Government. Loose plans were formulated. Tactics were analyzed. Slowly, the officers evolved a design for action.

While cigarette smoke filled the air, the conspirators sketched out a rough strategy. Their ultimate aim was to reject the peace terms. To attain that goal, they would have to seize the palace and dispose of the appeasers, Suzuki, Togo and Kido. As an afterthought, they added Baron Hiranuma to the list of victims.

Once again in a time of crisis, the young officers of the Japanese Army had decided to take matters into their own hands. When they did so, blood always flowed in the streets and peaceful men died brutally.

The last great orgy of killing had taken place little more than nine years before, on February 26, 1936.

Over fifteen hundred men went out into the streets of the capital that night to hunt down statesmen and generals known to be in opposition to Army plans. Finance Minister Takahashi was shot to death. General Jotaro Watanabe’s throat was cut as he lay in bed. Count Makino was assaulted, but survived. Baron Suzuki was shot in his bedroom and only saved by his wife’s presence of mind. As an army officer bent over his crumpled body to slash his throat, she rushed forward and said, “Please let me do it if it must be done.” The unnerved officer left without delivering the coup de grâce. Viscount Makoto Saito was also assaulted in his bedroom, but his wife’s efforts could not save him. He was found cradled in her arms on the floor, with a total of forty-seven bullets in his dead body.

Though the rebellion of February 1936 ultimately failed to bring down the Government, it was symptomatic of increasing Army interference in national affairs. Year by year the military assumed more control of policy-making apparatus. Month by month the civilian government danced to the Army’s tune. Ahead lay the road to Pearl Harbor.

In both decades Army schemes were hatched in the name of the Emperor. In each case the victims were chosen from the same class: statesmen who blocked the Army plans. By 1945 nothing had changed the Army mentality despite the fact that it had led Japan to destruction. The night of the assassin was about to be repeated.