Page 20 of Daikon
TEN
THERE WERE NINE OF THEM seated around the table in the air raid shelter beneath the War Ministry building.
The concrete space, lit by three naked light bulbs, was a uniform gray, the only splash of color the red markings on the first-aid kit affixed to the wall.
The ventilation fan was turned on but ineffective.
The shelter was growing warm from the heat of the nine bodies, the air filled with smoke from a half-dozen cigarettes.
Major Hatanaka was speaking, his voice hoarse with fatigue and excitement.
Colonel Sagara, invited by Takeshita to attend, gripped his legs in an effort to keep his hands still as he listened, approving of the younger officer’s zeal.
It was regrettable that Hatanaka had come to the meeting looking disheveled, but he had clearly been busy.
He had prepared the draft plan for a coup d’état that now lay before them, outlining the necessary movement of troops and the neutralization of key government figures.
Hatanaka’s plan met with general approval.
Much would depend on the Imperial Guards, headquartered on the grounds of the Imperial Palace.
It was agreed that Hatanaka should approach their commander, General Takeshi Mori, to gauge his feelings.
With the Guards on their side, other commanders throughout the country would fall into line once the coup was in motion and General Anami’s support was made clear.
Colonel Takeshita, Anami’s brother-in-law, would formally enlist the general’s backing.
“Prime Minister Suzuki. Foreign Minister Tōgō. Marquis Kido.” Takeshita finished by reading out a list of civilian leaders suspected of seeking peace behind the scenes. The defeatists who would have to be dealt with. The Badoglio clique.
“You’ve forgotten Baron Hiranuma,” came a voice from the opposite end of the table, referring to the president of the Privy Council. “We all know he’s whispering treason into the Emperor’s ear.”
A murmur of agreement. Colonel Sagara joined in.
“All right. Baron Hiranuma,” said Takeshita. He added the name to the list of those to be isolated or killed.
Colonel Ida spoke up: “What about Admiral Yonai?”
Admiral Mitsumasa Yonai. He was a key member of the Supreme War Council, the Navy’s counterbalance to General Anami, who represented the Army. According to rumors, Yonai favored surrender.
“The Goldfish Minister,” sneered Colonel Goto. The derogatory nickname had been given to Yonai following the destruction of the Navy. Without ships, the admiral was about as useful as an ornamental goldfish in a pond. “I say he goes.”
“No,” said Takeshita. “We need Yonai to keep the Navy in order. When General Anami steps forward, he’ll fall into line.”
Silence. Sagara noted uneasy looks. Some of the men present seemed to be expecting a more open and immediate show of support from Anami.
“The General will step forward,” Takeshita assured them. “When the time comes, he will do what’s needed. But until then, he must be discreet.”
He folded his notes and tucked them back into his pocket. “All right. If there’s nothing else, I’ll ask Colonel Sagara to speak now. There has been an interesting development he’s going to tell you about.”
Takeshita settled back in his chair and nodded to the colonel.
Sagara cleared his throat and looked around the table. He didn’t want to be here. For what he was planning to do, however, he needed support.
He began with an explanation of how the Special Intelligence Unit in Suginami-ku was using the call signs from intercepted radio traffic to track B-29s flying to Japan, and how an unusual new bomber squadron had recently been identified, based on the island of Tinian.
It was small, perhaps only ten aircraft.
And it seemed to be tasked with some sort of special mission.
“What is that mission?” he said. “The SIU doesn’t know. But I believe I have discovered the secret.”
Sagara had everyone’s attention now. He paused to refer to his notes.
“Four days ago, on August 1 at 0205, three of these Special Task Planes were monitored taking off from Tinian. They flew singly to Hiroshima, Kokura, and Nagasaki.”
“Observation planes,” someone suggested.
“Correct,” Sagara affirmed. “Then, at 0320, three more Special Task B-29s followed. All three followed the same route toward Kokura. One of them turned away just minutes before reaching the city. The other two circled Kokura, then returned to Tinian. The plane that turned away is I believe the same B-29 that was observed trailing smoke by a civilian lookout at Tosa. I believe it is the same B-29 that was brought down in a ramming attack by an Imperial Army Air Service pilot stationed at Hofu. I believe it is the same B-29 that crashed on Wednesday morning in Yamaguchi Prefecture, near a naval facility, Hikari Special Attack Unit. So it was our friends in the Navy”—Sagara said this with a facetious smile—“who were the first on the scene. They recovered a very large bomb from the wreckage, 3.04 meters long and weighing more than four tons. It was found to contain a large amount of uranium. I believe the purpose of the Special Task Planes was to deliver this weapon.”
He paused again and looked around the table. Judging from the blank expressions, the significance of the word uranium was lost on everyone present.
“Did you say four tons?” asked Colonel Goto, zeroing in instead on the bomb’s tremendous weight.
Sagara nodded. “Four-point-three tons, yes. But it’s the uranium that was inside it that’s most important.
It was recovered at Hikari Special Attack Unit and reported to Kure headquarters and the Navy Chief of Staff, but I don’t think the Navy has grasped what it means.
The cable was also forwarded here to the Ministry, and I happened to see it. An act of providence, I am sure.
“In any event, I sent a man from the Riken to Hikari to examine this bomb. Quietly. Discreetly. I received his latest report a few hours ago. He is convinced it is a uranium bomb.”
More blank looks. Colonel Ida was the first to speak.
“What is a uranium bomb?”
“It is not a conventional weapon,” Sagara replied.
“It uses the power of the atom. My knowledge is not deep, but I’ll try to explain.
” He went on to outline the thermal diffusion work that had been done at the Riken and the idea of enriching uranium to create a fissionable product.
He explained the concept of two pieces of enriched uranium being fired into each other to create a nuclear chain reaction. And then the exciting conclusion:
“My man has informed me that there was a mishap in handling the uranium removed from the weapon. It caused some sort of initial reaction, a release of energy that generated heat and created a flash of light. It left no doubt in his mind that the device is a uranium bomb.”
Silence.
“This reaction,” said Colonel Ida. “If it continued, the result would be an explosion?”
“A massive explosion,” said Sagara, nodding. “Powerful enough to destroy a whole city. Kokura was the target.”
The news sent a pall over the room. It was more bad news, another setback to swallow. Ida closed his eyes and lowered his chin to his chest.
“It doesn’t matter!” exploded Major Hatanaka, looking around at the dispirited faces. “This changes nothing. It doesn’t matter what weapons the Americans have. We will break them with our will!”
Colonel Sagara liked the younger officer more and more. He had the spirit of a samurai warrior, fighting to the death with a river to his back.
“You don’t understand, Hatanaka-shōsa,” he said. “This is good news.”
He looked around the table. “The Americans appear to have succeeded in making an atomic bomb, yes. But they could not have made more than one. My Riken man is quite sure about that. Producing concentrated uranium is too difficult and too time-consuming for them to have made more than one of these weapons. In time they may make a second. But until then…” He smiled.
“Until then, they have delivered it to us, whole and intact.”
Silence around the table.
“This is providence,” Sagara continued, his eyes starting to shine.
“From the moment I read this cable from Hikari with the word uran ”—he held up the paper—“the story about Tokimune Hōjō and Mugaku Sogen has been running through my mind. For we are facing the same threat from the Americans today that Japan faced six and a half centuries ago from the Mongols. And now we have in our hands the means of an equally terrible deliverance. For Hōjō it was the divine winds of the typhoon that destroyed the Mongol fleet. For us…”—he looked around the table—“for us it will be a uranium bomb. Nuclear fission.”
More silence. And only dour looks. Colonel Sagara felt a pang of annoyance. He had just revealed something profound and his fellow officers were just sitting there. No reaction. Like cows.
“You paint a pretty picture,” said Colonel Goto at last. “But I can’t believe it’s anything more than a dream. This thing—supposing it really is a uranium bomb, as you call it. How can you know it will work?”
“I just told you,” Sagara shot back. “The material began to react. It proved itself.”
“But we didn’t build it,” Goto went on. “The Americans did. Have we tested it? No. Is it even a viable weapon? We don’t know.”
“I believe you said it weighs four tons?” said Colonel Ida. “Then deploying it could also be a problem. Our bombers can’t carry four tons.”
Colonel Takeshita, watching Sagara’s face darken, interjected: “Let’s assume that the bomb is a viable weapon, and that it can be delivered. Perhaps, Sagara-chūsa, you could tell us your thoughts about how it could be used.”
Sagara was glowering at Goto and rubbing his arms. It felt like ants were crawling on his skin. The Philopon tablets did that.
“The bomb will work,” he said, “because it is Japan’s destiny for it to work. Goto-chūsa might not be able to understand that. But I do.”
Goto crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
He and Sagara had crossed paths before and did not like each other.
Sagara referred to Goto behind his back as “Valentino” because he was so ugly.
Goto had reciprocated, much to Sagara’s annoyance, by nicknaming him “The Ghost” on account of his increasingly hollow-eyed look.
“And the target you propose,” prompted Colonel Takeshita.
Sagara tore his eyes from Goto and forced himself to be calm.
“My initial thought,” he said, “was to use the weapon against the Americans when they attempt to land on Kyushu after the monsoon. We hold our forces back and let them establish a beachhead. But then we don’t draw them into the interior for a defense in depth, as we planned.
Instead, we detonate the uranium bomb over their beachhead.
Complete annihilation. But now I’m thinking—”
“You’re assuming the Americans will mass their forces on a single beachhead,” said Colonel Goto, cutting him off. “Look at their Normandy operation. That covered at least fifty kilometers of coastline. Can your bomb deal with all that?”
Sagara’s hands balled into fists. His eyes were blazing. Colonel Ida spoke up before he could respond.
“That would mean holding this weapon in reserve for two months or longer,” said Ida. “If it really is viable, we should be considering targets that we can hit now , when it will do us some good. Would it be possible to use it to dislodge the Americans from Okinawa?”
“An even worse idea,” huffed Goto. “Okinawa is one hundred kilometers long.”
“Guam, then,” said Ida. “Or Tinian. Send the bomb back where it came from. If it can destroy a whole city, it could wipe out the north half of the island, the whole airfield complex that the Americans are using to send B-29s to Japan.”
“Military targets!” said Major Hatanaka, slapping his hand down on the table. “Why talk of military targets when the Americans are destroying our cities? If this bomb can destroy a whole city—”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” cut in Colonel Goto. “Sagara-chūsa, did you not say that this thing was recovered by a naval unit?”
“That’s right,” said Ida. “So what are we talking about? We don’t even have the weapon. It’s in the hands of the Navy.”
Sagara imagined lunging out of his seat at Goto and clawing out his eyes, then going to work on Ida. But he couldn’t afford to lose control of himself now. For they had arrived at the crux of the matter. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm.
“You are correct,” he said, digging his fingernails into his thighs.
“The bomb is currently at the Special Attack Unit at Hikari in Yamaguchi Prefecture. It’s in the hands of our colleagues in the Imperial Navy, but they don’t know what they have.
Now, we could simply inform them, and leave it to the Navy to make the most of this heaven-sent gift.
But if we did that, we all know what would happen.
The weapon would never be used. Against any target.
It would just disappear, tucked away by Admiral Yonai and the Badoglios to prevent it from steeling the nation’s resolve. ”
He looked around at all the faces. “I don’t think we should let that happen. Do you?”
“The Navy will never turn it over,” said Goto. “Asking them to do so would be pointless.”
“I agree,” said Sagara. “Entirely pointless.”
Colonel Takeshita’s face was now showing concern. “Just what are you proposing?”
“What I’m proposing is that I go down to Hikari and take charge of the uranium bomb as a representative of the Ministry of War.”
“But that could cause a serious conflict,” said Takeshita.
Sagara shook his head. “It would be a tactful operation. No confrontation. I’ll go there myself.”
Major Hatanaka spoke up. “Sagara-chūsa said that the B-29 carrying the bomb was brought down by an Imperial Army pilot. One of our own sacrificed his life in a body-crashing attack to bring down that plane. That alone should give us priority in the matter. The Navy merely happened upon the crash site and picked through the pieces. If any trouble arises from the Colonel taking possession of the bomb, he should remind them of this.”
“Wave the Army-Navy Cooperation Agreement in their faces,” someone suggested. “That should end any protests they might care to make.”
Colonel Ida nodded. He had no love for the Navy.
Neither did Goto. “Agreed,” he grudgingly said.
Sagara turned to Colonel Takeshita at the head of the table. Takeshita was stroking his clipped mustache, his head bowed, as he considered. He was the direct conduit to General Anami. It all depended on him.
“You didn’t mention this before,” he pointedly said.
“It occurred to me only this morning,” Sagara lied. “I realized that involving the Navy would mean squandering this golden chance.”
Takeshita looked around at the others. Sagara appeared to have the backing of everyone present.
“All right,” he said, turning back to Sagara. “What do you need?”