Since the American conquest of the Marianas island chain, Guam, Saipan, and Tinian in 1944, air and naval bombardment systematically destroyed central areas of 64 Japanese cities, killed hundreds of thousands of civilians, and left thirteen million homeless. But it was the new, awesome weapon, the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, costing another 210,000 lives, that brought the war to an abrupt end.
In the cold calculus of war, one must weigh the lives lost with use of the bomb against the horrible cost of the planned invasion that would have prolonged the war and cost hundreds of thousands of additional lives, both American and Japanese. This exercise must certainly illustrate the necessity for prevention of war in the first place.
This new weapon created suffering and death beyond that caused by conventional bombing - shock, shrapnel, fire, suffocation. With nuclear war, there would be immediate death and disease from radiation, horrible suffering, and long-term effects from radiation, sometimes not evident until years into the future.
In December 1941, a 19-year-old kid from Johnstown, Pennsylvania, Joe O'Donnell, full of anger toward the Japanese, enlisted in the Marine Corps. He was anxious to get to the South Pacific to get revenge for Pearl Harbor. Whether one becomes a radio operator, electronics technician, or a fighter pilot, all Marines are first trained as basic infantrymen. After infantry training, the Corps made a photographer out of Joe O'Donnell.
By war's end, 1945, O'Donnell was a 23-year-old sergeant wading ashore at Sasebo Bay, Japan. His orders were to document the aftermath of U.S. bombing raids on Japanese cities.
For seven months, O'Donnell traveled by plane, jeep, and horseback across Japan. He captured images of the suffering and horribly burned victims. He visited with former Kamikaze pilots, orphans caring for their siblings, and survivors who had lost family members to American bombs.
His most searing memories were of the horrible wounds suffered by many of the survivors. When he had enlisted in the Corps, he was full of hatred toward the Japanese. During his seven months of photographing the devastation, and suffering victims, he found himself at war with himself. He began to question every belief he had of his former enemies. After all, most victims of war - soldier or civilian - have nothing to do with its cause.
After witnessing the destruction and suffering caused by the atomic bombs, he found himself praying that they would never be used again. Upon his discharge from the Corps in 1946, he placed 300 negatives in a trunk in the attic and closed the lid, never intending to open it again.
Interestingly enough, Tokyo was not on the list of cities to be targeted by either of the atomic bombs. General Douglas MacArthur was selected to lead the occupation forces of Japan. By not destroying Tokyo, Emperor Hirohito survived, as did an administrative structure through which MacArthur could work.
The most ardent Japanese militants who had wanted to fight to the death either committed suicide or were removed from positions of power. The allies wisely kept Emperor Hirohito as titular head of government. These factors greatly aided MacArthur to guide Japan into what the western world wanted - a democratic, capitalistic ally that would be a bulwark against the Communist world. The architects of the Iraqi War of 2003 and its aftermath could have learned some valuable lessons from all this had they been paying attention. But that's another story.
Thanks to some astute decisions - not deposing Hirohito, not dropping the atomic bomb on Tokyo, not destroying Kobe, the ancient capital of Japan - and General MacArthur's unique personality and set of skills, we got what we wanted from Japan beyond any reasonable expectations. The Japanese are a resolute, resourceful, industrious people. Instead of a formidable enemy, they became a formidable economic power - long the second largest world economy, remarkable for an island nation practically devoid of natural resources.
Incredibly, MacArthur, one of the architects of American victory over Japan, became respected, and even admired, by many Japanese. We'll leave this to the historians, but perhaps rarely, if ever, has a conqueror become so respected - even admired - by a people and a nation that he was so instrumental in defeating. He was clearly the right man in the right place for that task. But so was Truman in his forthcoming clash with MacArthur, who would soon overreach his authority.
Joe O'Donnell, our former Marine photographer, continued his remarkable career - as a White House photographer. With access to the President in the oval office, he had always wanted to ask Truman about his decision to drop the atomic bomb on Japan. He had many opportunities but, not wanting to be too forward, always held back.
The opportunity to ask this question came during Truman's visit to Wake Island in 1950 to confer with General MacArthur on the Korean War. Truman asked O'Donnell and a few others to join him on a walk along the beach. After a mile or so, Truman said, "I don't know about you fellows, but I've got to piss."
O'Donnell figured there would never be a better opportunity - "Mr. President, I was a Marine photographer assigned to Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the war, and I often wondered if you had any second thoughts about your decision to drop the bomb on those cities."
According to O'Donnell - "His reply startled me. It was, quick, loud, if somewhat cryptic."
Next week: Truman's answer, and "fallout" - nuclear and political.
- Monroe resident John Waelti can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
In the cold calculus of war, one must weigh the lives lost with use of the bomb against the horrible cost of the planned invasion that would have prolonged the war and cost hundreds of thousands of additional lives, both American and Japanese. This exercise must certainly illustrate the necessity for prevention of war in the first place.
This new weapon created suffering and death beyond that caused by conventional bombing - shock, shrapnel, fire, suffocation. With nuclear war, there would be immediate death and disease from radiation, horrible suffering, and long-term effects from radiation, sometimes not evident until years into the future.
In December 1941, a 19-year-old kid from Johnstown, Pennsylvania, Joe O'Donnell, full of anger toward the Japanese, enlisted in the Marine Corps. He was anxious to get to the South Pacific to get revenge for Pearl Harbor. Whether one becomes a radio operator, electronics technician, or a fighter pilot, all Marines are first trained as basic infantrymen. After infantry training, the Corps made a photographer out of Joe O'Donnell.
By war's end, 1945, O'Donnell was a 23-year-old sergeant wading ashore at Sasebo Bay, Japan. His orders were to document the aftermath of U.S. bombing raids on Japanese cities.
For seven months, O'Donnell traveled by plane, jeep, and horseback across Japan. He captured images of the suffering and horribly burned victims. He visited with former Kamikaze pilots, orphans caring for their siblings, and survivors who had lost family members to American bombs.
His most searing memories were of the horrible wounds suffered by many of the survivors. When he had enlisted in the Corps, he was full of hatred toward the Japanese. During his seven months of photographing the devastation, and suffering victims, he found himself at war with himself. He began to question every belief he had of his former enemies. After all, most victims of war - soldier or civilian - have nothing to do with its cause.
After witnessing the destruction and suffering caused by the atomic bombs, he found himself praying that they would never be used again. Upon his discharge from the Corps in 1946, he placed 300 negatives in a trunk in the attic and closed the lid, never intending to open it again.
Interestingly enough, Tokyo was not on the list of cities to be targeted by either of the atomic bombs. General Douglas MacArthur was selected to lead the occupation forces of Japan. By not destroying Tokyo, Emperor Hirohito survived, as did an administrative structure through which MacArthur could work.
The most ardent Japanese militants who had wanted to fight to the death either committed suicide or were removed from positions of power. The allies wisely kept Emperor Hirohito as titular head of government. These factors greatly aided MacArthur to guide Japan into what the western world wanted - a democratic, capitalistic ally that would be a bulwark against the Communist world. The architects of the Iraqi War of 2003 and its aftermath could have learned some valuable lessons from all this had they been paying attention. But that's another story.
Thanks to some astute decisions - not deposing Hirohito, not dropping the atomic bomb on Tokyo, not destroying Kobe, the ancient capital of Japan - and General MacArthur's unique personality and set of skills, we got what we wanted from Japan beyond any reasonable expectations. The Japanese are a resolute, resourceful, industrious people. Instead of a formidable enemy, they became a formidable economic power - long the second largest world economy, remarkable for an island nation practically devoid of natural resources.
Incredibly, MacArthur, one of the architects of American victory over Japan, became respected, and even admired, by many Japanese. We'll leave this to the historians, but perhaps rarely, if ever, has a conqueror become so respected - even admired - by a people and a nation that he was so instrumental in defeating. He was clearly the right man in the right place for that task. But so was Truman in his forthcoming clash with MacArthur, who would soon overreach his authority.
Joe O'Donnell, our former Marine photographer, continued his remarkable career - as a White House photographer. With access to the President in the oval office, he had always wanted to ask Truman about his decision to drop the atomic bomb on Japan. He had many opportunities but, not wanting to be too forward, always held back.
The opportunity to ask this question came during Truman's visit to Wake Island in 1950 to confer with General MacArthur on the Korean War. Truman asked O'Donnell and a few others to join him on a walk along the beach. After a mile or so, Truman said, "I don't know about you fellows, but I've got to piss."
O'Donnell figured there would never be a better opportunity - "Mr. President, I was a Marine photographer assigned to Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the war, and I often wondered if you had any second thoughts about your decision to drop the bomb on those cities."
According to O'Donnell - "His reply startled me. It was, quick, loud, if somewhat cryptic."
Next week: Truman's answer, and "fallout" - nuclear and political.
- Monroe resident John Waelti can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
