We dropped a bomb on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945, leading to ending the war and sparing hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of American lives. Harry Truman, my favorite Democrat.
At 8:16 a.m. on Monday, Aug. 6, 1945, the world changed suddenly and irrevocably when a U.S. B-29 bomber called the Enola Gay dropped an isotope uranium-235 fission bomb on the Japanese city of Hiroshima.
Some 1,900 feet above a bridge over the Ota River, the bomb exploded with a yield equivalent to 20,000 tons of TNT. It raised the temperature on the ground to 5,000 degrees Celcius, killing more than 70,000 Japanese. A gigantic mushroom cloud rose above the city, and mankind stepped into the nuclear age.
The 70th anniversary of these great and terrible events will inevitably bring forth repetitions of the usual criticisms of President Harry S. Truman and the Western allies for their decision to employ the bomb. The American television host Jon Stewartsome years ago described Truman as “a war criminal,” arguing that the bomb ought to have been dropped in the sea off Japan to demonstrate its power. (He later retracted his statement when he examined the issue further.)
Human-rights activists, antiwar campaigners, left-wing politicians and others argue that Japan was about to surrender and that therefore it was morally wrong to deploy this most destructive of weapons against unarmed civilians. Some even deny that many American lives would have been lost in an invasion of the Japanese mainland.
Yet in his memoirs, “Year of Decisions,” Truman wrote that he believed an invasion of Japan would have cost half a million American lives. This estimate was considered too conservative by both Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson and Secretary of State James Byrnes, who in their own memoirs estimated one million casualties overall. These high figures are backed up by the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff study of August 1944, which projected that an invasion would “cost half a million American lives and many more that number in wounded.”
Secret intercepts showed that the Japanese air force still had 10,000 planes to defend the homeland in August 1945. Along with kamikaze pilots, the Japanese counted on flying bombs, human torpedoes, suicide-attack boats, midget suicide submarines and navy swimmers to be used as human mines. All of these had been used in battle at Okinawa and in the Philippines with lethal results.
Although logic dictated that Japan’s position was hopeless, many Japanese commanders “felt that it would be far better to die fighting in battle than to seek an ignominious survival by surrendering the nation and acknowledging defeat,” as one of them later put it. On June 8, the Japanese government pledged, in the presence of Emperor Hirohito, that “the nation would fight to the bitter end.”
Prime Minister Kantaro Suzuki supported the army’s plan to carry this out as being “the way of the warrior and the path of the patriot.” The peace feelers that Japanese diplomats tried to extend via the Soviet Union in July 1945 ran up against the fact that the Japanese military had ultimate control and no intention of surrendering.
Even after Nagasaki was bombed on Aug. 9, a meeting of the Imperial Council that night concluded that, in the words of Army General Staff Chief Yoshijiro Umezu, Japan still had the “ability to deal a smashing blow to the enemy,” so “it would be inexcusable to surrender unconditionally.” The chief of the naval staff similarly stated, “we do not believe it possible that we will be defeated.”
Considering this level of resistance by the armed forces, it is inconceivable that a mere blockade of Japan and continued conventional bombing might have forced it to surrender. A costly full-scale invasion would have been unavoidable. An attempted coup d’état by army officers determined to continue the war only failed when General Korechika Anami, the minister of war, refused to support it and committed suicide instead.
Emperor Hirohito’s Imperial Rescript of Aug. 14, 1945 made it perfectly plain that the dropping of the atomic bombs was absolutely central to Japan’s decision to surrender. As he told his people, “the enemy has begun to employ a new and most cruel bomb, the power of which to do damage is indeed incalculable, taking the toll of many innocent lives.”
What about the argument that the U.S. should have demonstrated the awesome power of its weaponry in some uninhabited region, rather than in cities? Unfortunately, the Allies only had two atomic bombs, with several months before the next ones came into production. If one were to be wasted on a demonstration that failed to convince the Japanese to surrender, that would only leave one more. As it was, it took both devastated cities to persuade the military, civilian politicians and the emperor.
The nuclear bombs probably saved hundreds of thousands of Japanese lives. American planes would have had to attack several more Japanese cities as they had Tokyo, and would have repeated their attacks on the capital as well. The U.S. Navy would have continued its blockade, and mass starvation could have resulted. The 70th anniversary of the dropping of the Hiroshima ought to be observed with dignity and reflection, but also with thanksgiving and relief.
At 8:16 a.m. on Monday, Aug. 6, 1945, the world changed suddenly and irrevocably when a U.S. B-29 bomber called the Enola Gay dropped an isotope uranium-235 fission bomb on the Japanese city of Hiroshima.
Some 1,900 feet above a bridge over the Ota River, the bomb exploded with a yield equivalent to 20,000 tons of TNT. It raised the temperature on the ground to 5,000 degrees Celcius, killing more than 70,000 Japanese. A gigantic mushroom cloud rose above the city, and mankind stepped into the nuclear age.
The 70th anniversary of these great and terrible events will inevitably bring forth repetitions of the usual criticisms of President Harry S. Truman and the Western allies for their decision to employ the bomb. The American television host Jon Stewartsome years ago described Truman as “a war criminal,” arguing that the bomb ought to have been dropped in the sea off Japan to demonstrate its power. (He later retracted his statement when he examined the issue further.)
Human-rights activists, antiwar campaigners, left-wing politicians and others argue that Japan was about to surrender and that therefore it was morally wrong to deploy this most destructive of weapons against unarmed civilians. Some even deny that many American lives would have been lost in an invasion of the Japanese mainland.
Yet in his memoirs, “Year of Decisions,” Truman wrote that he believed an invasion of Japan would have cost half a million American lives. This estimate was considered too conservative by both Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson and Secretary of State James Byrnes, who in their own memoirs estimated one million casualties overall. These high figures are backed up by the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff study of August 1944, which projected that an invasion would “cost half a million American lives and many more that number in wounded.”
Secret intercepts showed that the Japanese air force still had 10,000 planes to defend the homeland in August 1945. Along with kamikaze pilots, the Japanese counted on flying bombs, human torpedoes, suicide-attack boats, midget suicide submarines and navy swimmers to be used as human mines. All of these had been used in battle at Okinawa and in the Philippines with lethal results.
Although logic dictated that Japan’s position was hopeless, many Japanese commanders “felt that it would be far better to die fighting in battle than to seek an ignominious survival by surrendering the nation and acknowledging defeat,” as one of them later put it. On June 8, the Japanese government pledged, in the presence of Emperor Hirohito, that “the nation would fight to the bitter end.”
Prime Minister Kantaro Suzuki supported the army’s plan to carry this out as being “the way of the warrior and the path of the patriot.” The peace feelers that Japanese diplomats tried to extend via the Soviet Union in July 1945 ran up against the fact that the Japanese military had ultimate control and no intention of surrendering.
Even after Nagasaki was bombed on Aug. 9, a meeting of the Imperial Council that night concluded that, in the words of Army General Staff Chief Yoshijiro Umezu, Japan still had the “ability to deal a smashing blow to the enemy,” so “it would be inexcusable to surrender unconditionally.” The chief of the naval staff similarly stated, “we do not believe it possible that we will be defeated.”
Considering this level of resistance by the armed forces, it is inconceivable that a mere blockade of Japan and continued conventional bombing might have forced it to surrender. A costly full-scale invasion would have been unavoidable. An attempted coup d’état by army officers determined to continue the war only failed when General Korechika Anami, the minister of war, refused to support it and committed suicide instead.
Emperor Hirohito’s Imperial Rescript of Aug. 14, 1945 made it perfectly plain that the dropping of the atomic bombs was absolutely central to Japan’s decision to surrender. As he told his people, “the enemy has begun to employ a new and most cruel bomb, the power of which to do damage is indeed incalculable, taking the toll of many innocent lives.”
What about the argument that the U.S. should have demonstrated the awesome power of its weaponry in some uninhabited region, rather than in cities? Unfortunately, the Allies only had two atomic bombs, with several months before the next ones came into production. If one were to be wasted on a demonstration that failed to convince the Japanese to surrender, that would only leave one more. As it was, it took both devastated cities to persuade the military, civilian politicians and the emperor.
The nuclear bombs probably saved hundreds of thousands of Japanese lives. American planes would have had to attack several more Japanese cities as they had Tokyo, and would have repeated their attacks on the capital as well. The U.S. Navy would have continued its blockade, and mass starvation could have resulted. The 70th anniversary of the dropping of the Hiroshima ought to be observed with dignity and reflection, but also with thanksgiving and relief.
