1942

CHAPTER 3

There was silence in the War Room of the White House as the litany of disasters was enumerated. Guam had fallen, and it was only a matter of time before isolated and outnumbered Wake Island would be conquered. The Japanese had landed in the Philippines, and the combined American and Filipino forces were falling back in disorder in the face of the Japanese onslaught.

Nor were the Americans alone in their agonies. The British in Malaya had been invaded, and the Japanese were driving through what had been considered impassable jungles to the city of Singapore. Hong Kong was surrounded and besieged, and, like that of Wake, its fall was inevitable. The British, in their haste to shore up the defenses of Singapore, had suffered a naval defeat almost on a level with the disaster at Pearl Harbor when the battleships Repulse and Prince of Wales were sunk by Japanese planes.

As a result, there were no Allied capital ships in the Pacific Ocean west of Hawaii. The Japanese had at least ten carriers in that area to America’s two, although a third carrier was en route. The Japanese had a dozen battleships operating in the Pacific, while the Americans had only four, and these were in West Coast waters, nowhere near the scene of the action.

For the time being at least, the Japanese possessed overwhelming naval strength in the western Pacific.

To further complicate matters and drain America’s still limited resources, the Nazis had declared war on the United States and had commenced U-boat operations along America’s eastern shore. Shocked American civilians now saw oil tankers burning off the shores of New Jersey, and U-boats were rumored to be moving up the St. Lawrence and Mississippi rivers.

That the Chinese had followed with a declaration against Japan and Germany was considered a mixed blessing at best. While China had been fighting Japan for years, her army was considered corrupt and inept. Numerous other countries had followed America’s lead and declared war against the Axis, but they were small nations and would have little impact in the coming struggle.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt swiveled his wheelchair and looked at Admiral Ernest King. King, irascible and blunt, had just been named chief of naval operations. He replaced Admiral Harold Stark, who had been the navy’s senior officer at the time of Pearl Harbor. Stark’s reputation was in decline as some of the blame for Pearl Harbor had fallen on him.

King paced angrily, like a bear in a cage. Roosevelt smiled slightly. “I envy you.”

King stopped and blinked in surprise. “Envy me what, sir?”

“Your ability to pace like that. It must help you relieve your frustrations. Me? All I can do is rock back and forth in this confounded chair. If I feel really energetic, I can sort of sway a little.”

King flushed and sat down. “Sorry, sir.”

Two of the three others in the room chuckled. The exception was the army chief of staff, General George C. Marshall, who made it a personal point never to laugh at Roosevelt’s jokes. Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson and Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox were the others in attendance. This was a war meeting, and there was likely to be little input from the two civilian secretaries.

“Well,” Roosevelt said to King, “give us your opinion.”

“Mr. President, if the Japs have any idea how weak we are in the Pacific, they will attack Hawaii. Until the fuel situation is resolved, there is very little we can do to stop them should they wish to invade. Very simply, our ships in the Pacific do not have enough fuel for combat patrols or to mount an effective campaign against the Japs. Further, the ships we now have on the Pacific coast can cruise to Hawaii and back but would also have very little in reserve for any combat patrols or other actions.”

“I don’t understand,” said Marshall. “I thought that many of our warships had cruising ranges in excess of ten thousand miles, and Hawaii is only twenty-three hundred miles from San Francisco.”

“That’s correct,” King answered. “But our ships must keep enough in reserve to return for more fuel, and that’s California until our Hawaiian facilities are repaired. Thus, almost half a ship’s fuel is going to be used just coming and going. Also, that ten-thousand-mile range is at a ship’s most effective speed, which is usually far below a combat speed. Under even the best of circumstances, a ship cannot count on its range as being a real indicator. Other variables, such as weather, can affect it adversely.”

King smiled slightly as he warmed to his lecture. It wasn’t often he got a chance to educate his army counterpart, and he relished it. And, last, while on patrol, the larger warships, like the battleships and carriers, often act as tankers for the smaller ships, such as the destroyers, which further erodes any range figures.”

“Well then, what about sending tankers with the fleet?” Marshall asked.

King had been promoted from commanding the Atlantic Fleet, where he had been primarily concerned with running the undeclared war against Nazi Germany that had just become a fully declared war with Japan. As a result, he had to pause and recall before he answered.

“A simple answer, General. We do not have enough tankers to support major fleet operations. That can and will be rectified by requisitioning tankers from the merchant fleet, but it will still take months before we have enough to make a difference.”

“Are you suggesting the fleet should abandon Pearl?” Roosevelt asked.

“I’ve told Nimitz it’s his call. I will support whatever he recommends. But yes, I do think he will recommend that we pull what’s left of the fleet back to California, where it was until last summer, and lick our wounds. If the oil depot can be repaired and replenished without Jap interference, then we can move back fairly quickly. Until then, we are just too vulnerable at Pearl Harbor.

“Let’s face it,” King added. “Without the ability to mount effective patrols, the navy is almost as blind as it was on December 7. If the Japs launch a force and hold to radio silence, any warning would be counted in hours, not days. Even our Magic intercepts were useless, remember.”

The mention of Magic intercepts referred to the fact that the United States had been deciphering Japan’s diplomatic code for some time, and had been making progress in unlocking the secrets of the military codes. Even so, those abilities had not helped to prevent the attack on Pearl Harbor. The Japanese diplomatic codes had made no reference to any specific action, and the Japanese fleet had kept remarkably tight radio silence as it steamed toward Hawaii. There were times when technology was ineffective and old-fashioned methods proved best.

Marshall nodded grimly. “Then I will make no effort to reinforce General Short until the situation is resolved. Until we can establish naval and air parity, it won’t matter how many soldiers I ship over. Short will have to make do with the resources he has.”

Marshall paused and then added, “I’ve also directed Short to put on hold the reorganization of the Hawaiian Division into the 24th and 25th Infantry Divisions.”

The general briefly explained that the Hawaiian Division was a large World War I-type division that had been organized for trench warfare in Europe in 1917. He had been reorganizing all the army’s divisions into smaller and more mobile units, and the Hawaiian Division was one of the few left to make over.

“It also makes no sense,” Marshall continued, “to have the division in the middle of a reorganization should the Japs invade. Let them keep their current structure and leaders for the time being.”

There was no argument from Roosevelt or the others. “There’s another reason for deferring the change,” Marshall said grimly, “and it’s a psychological one. If the Japs invade and are successful, the American public won’t be too distressed if something called the Hawaiian Division is lost. Let’s face it, it sounds like a bunch of people in flowered shirts and sarongs. But if the 24th and 25th Infantry Divisions are forced to surrender, the scope of the loss will be apparent.”

The president looked at him in astonishment. Admiral King’s jaw dropped and it took him a moment to find his voice. “Jesus Christ, General, that’s just about the most coldhearted and devious thing I’ve ever heard of.”

Marshall eyed him with apparent dispassion. Only he knew the internal agony he was feeling at the thought of losing any of his soldiers. “Do you approve?”

King nodded. “Yes, General, I do.”

Alexa Sanderson stood by the edge of the newly dug grave and half listened to the chaplain intone some prayer or other. From what she was able to gather, she should be overjoyed that Tim was in heaven with the angels, instead of lying in a wooden box that was about to be covered with dirt. She did not accept that assessment. She missed Tim terribly, and her whole body ached with the loss.

However, she’d had some time to think over the fact of Tim’s death and accepted both it and the fact that she had nothing to regret. She didn’t even resent the fact that the coffin had been sealed. Perhaps it was a blessing. She would be able to remember him as he was in life and not in death. Alexa fully understood that he had died violently and had been in the oil-soaked water for more than a day. The remains in the box would in no way resemble the man she’d made love to the night before he left for duty that morning.

They had loved each other, but it was over. She would revere and honor his memory, but she would also move on with her life. She could even use the word death, which surprised some people. It amused her how others used terms like gone away, or departed, as if the dead person was coming back. Tim was dead. Nothing would change that.

Alexa even found a moment to wonder if she would marry again. To her surprise, she didn’t find the thought repugnant, not even at this early stage of her widowhood and in the depth of sorrow. Their lives had been happy, so why wouldn’t a future life be as well? She was twenty-eight and, despite her grief, knew that she would someday recover.

When the service ended, she would thank the chaplain for his nice prayers, although she was far from certain that he had any idea who he was burying. She didn’t blame him. Thousands had been killed by the Japs with additional thousands wounded. Even as they mourned, other interments were taking place around them. The area in Punchbowl crater was rapidly becoming a national cemetery for the dead of the young war. Alexa stared at the chaplain, who faltered over a prayer. The poor man looked exhausted, but at least he was alive.

Finally it was over. A couple of her neighbors and a handful of the students she taught at the church-run school drifted away. With the exception of Melissa’s husband and the rapidly departing chaplain, only one man in uniform had been present, and she walked over to him. “Thank you for coming, Captain.”

Jake Novacek nodded. He was determined not to embarrass himself by saying something banal or stupid, as he had managed to do at other funerals. He was surprised at the lack of attendance by naval personnel but said nothing.

“Tim spoke kindly of you on a number of occasions. He said you didn’t hit him too hard.”

Jake smiled slightly. “We generally played on opposite sides, but he was always a good guy. I’ll miss him.” And a helluva lot of others, he didn’t add.

Alexa took the compliment. She was a little surprised by the burly Novacek. At first glance, it would be easy to mistake him for a Neanderthal who had stolen an officer’s uniform. But a few words with him had convinced her the impression was wrong. There was depth to the man, as well as compassion.

“I’m not surprised that no one else came,” she said. “So many of his friends are dead or wounded themselves, particularly those from the Oklahoma, and everyone is so busy with the living that it’s easy to forget the dead. Then there’s the fact, of course, that I’m not very popular with the other officers and their wives.”

“Oh?” What the hell had she done to be disliked, he wondered, and did he really want to know?

“My political views are anathema to them. I’m a pacifist, and I hate war in all its forms. Does that bother you? If it wasn’t for the fact that my uncle’s a congressman, I think Tim and I would have been totally ignored.”

A pacifist? Was that all? But it would have been enough to result in ostrarization in the close-knit family of military officers. However, he understood the deference she would have received with a political relative. “What bothers me, Mrs. Sanderson, is that I cannot recall the last time I used the word anathema in an intelligent conversation.”

The comment brought a wide and unexpected grin from her, and he continued. “I have no argument with anyone’s political or moral views. Somehow I’ve always felt that part of my job was to protect them. Maybe I’m a little naive, but I have no problem with pacifists. After this war is over,” he added drily, “I may become one myself.”

“Well then, Captain, I’m even more glad you came.” Melissa Wilson and her recently arrived husband stepped behind them as they walked to their cars. “I presume you will have to return to duty.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Uh, I told my bosses that’s where I was now.”

Alexa laughed out loud. It felt good. “Well, get back to them and don’t get in trouble for playing hooky. You were Tim’s friend, and now you’re my friend. Please don’t hesitate to stop by when you’re in the area.”

Alexa meant the invitation. Even though she barely knew Jake Novacek, she found herself trusting and liking him. She needed strong friends at this time in her life, and Captain Jake Novacek looked like he would more than fill the bill.

“I will do that, Mrs. Sanderson,” Jake said, wondering if she meant it or was just being polite.

“My name is Alexa, Captain, and my friends call me Lexy for some ungodly reason.”

“Mine is Jake,” he said, grinning. She did mean it. Lexy? What a lousy nickname for an elegant lady. He decided that he would never call her Lexy. They shook hands as if meeting for the first time, which, in a way, they were. Her grip was strong and firm, which was interesting; most women had no idea how to shake hands. “And I am honored to be your friend, Alexa.”

Behind them, neither saw Melissa nudge her husband in the ribs.

Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto again entered the residence of Prime Minister Tojo. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Tojo was not alone. Present with him was Lieutenant General Sakai Takashi, who commanded the 23d Area Army, based near Canton, China. Yamamoto took Takashi’s presence as a good omen, although the army general looked grim and unpleasant.

As was proper, Tojo took the lead. “As you may have surmised by General Takashi’s presence, we have decided to give conditional approval to the invasion of Hawaii. The fact that Hitler has declared war on the United States means there will be no major reinforcements available for their Pacific Fleet for some time.”

Yamamoto bowed from a seated position. “I am honored. However, you said ‘conditional approval.’ May I ask what the conditions are?”

Takashi answered. “I’ll be blunt, Admiral. I agree that it is a marvelous opportunity to further injure the United States and thus further ensure Japan’s victory. But it will necessitate changes to plans and events that are already taking place. I am also concerned by the size of the American army contingent on Oahu. Therefore, I insist that the navy provide total superiority of sea and air.”

Takashi’s comments verged on rude, but Yamamoto ignored it. Too much was at stake to let interservice pride get in the way. “When the army steps ashore,” he replied firmly, “there will be no opposition from American planes or ships. Additionally, I will provide a full brigade of marines to lead the amphibious part of the assault.”

Takashi blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that.

Yamamoto continued. “I will provide a diversion that will confuse the Americans and cause them to split their forces. Right now, they expect that any landing will occur on the northern shore of Oahu, farthest from Honolulu. In that regard they are correct; however, we will make them think otherwise.”

Takashi almost smiled but caught himself. “Good. For my part, the army will provide the 38th Infantry Division. It is now involved in mopping-up operations in Hong Kong and is not scheduled for further action for a couple of months. It will be resupplied and will be the focus of the invasion.”

Yamamoto was delighted. The 38th was a crack, class A division, instead of the second-tier force he’d planned on, and it consisted of nearly thirty thousand men. Takashi, however, was not quite telling the truth. The British were putting up a stout defense, and it was estimated that they would fight on for another week or so.

“Additionally,” Tojo said, “the 38th will be reinforced by one infantry regiment each from the 52nd, 53rd, and 54th divisions, which are stationed in Japan. They are class C divisions but will give a good account of themselves under the circumstances.”

Yamamoto nodded. The additional regiments, regardless of quality, would bring the 38th up to a total of nearly forty thousand men, and, when the marine brigade was added, the Japanese ground forces would truly be formidable.

“However,” Tojo said, “you may have these forces for only sixty days after landing on Oahu and the landing must take place within a month. If the island isn’t conquered by that time, we will have to evaluate the situation. We must not unduly delay our activities around Borneo and elsewhere. Those other lands contain the oil the navy said it so desperately needed.”

Yamamoto smiled at the transparent gibe. “It will not take sixty days. By the time of the landing, the Americans will be confused and disoriented.”

Tojo nodded appreciatively. “You mentioned a diversion, what is it?”

“It will occur in two phases,” Yamamoto answered. “In the first phase, which is commencing as we speak, I have ordered our submarines back into Hawaiian waters. They will strike at any shipping that attempts to leave or enter the islands.

“As to the second phase, the First Air Fleet is refueling and resupplying and will return to Hawaii with additional planes and a regiment of marines. They will then land on the island of Molokai, perhaps Lanai afterward, and establish air bases there that will be operational within a few days. That will place the Japanese air forces permanently within a hundred miles of most of the targets on Oahu, particularly those around Pearl Harbor. I am confident the Americans will find it extremely difficult to justify moving their forces to the north of Oahu when we are so close to them in the south.”

Takashi did smile this time. Yamamoto thought it looked like a monkey grinning. Tojo recognized that a deal had been struck and ordered sake brought out.

“Excellent,” he said. “But restrict your efforts to a plan and nothing more at this time. Do not land on Molokai or elsewhere until the army is completely ready to support you. Should there be a delay in taking Hong Kong, or should other factors arise, we might yet have to reconsider Hawaiian operations.”

“I fully understand,” Yamamoto answered.

Tojo raised his cup, and the others followed suit. “Let us drink to the success of the operation and the confusion of our enemies.”