6.(4-6) Admiral Yamamoto's Astounding Confession

Slim Novel 6 - http://adventuresofkimi.blogspot.com - See Homepage

4. Odd Man Out

11 May 1942 Monday:  On Hotel Yamatomoto for 9 days but no Supreme Commander. Captain Watanabe keeps saying the Admiral is busy and patience will be my reward. I hope, I hope, I hope! I hope! Am intensely curious about this man. Here is what I know: His given name Isoroku comes from his schoolmaster father's being fifty-six years of age when the Admiral was born. Enlisted in Navy at 17 “so I could return Commodore Perry's visit.” Two fingers shot off as ensign during Admiral Togo's attack on the Russians at Port Arthur in 1904. Lived in America as student at Harvard during the 19-teen's and as Navy Attaché in Washington during the 20's. Fluent in English and of all the military leaders has best knowledge of America.

   As Navy Vice Minister, he was outspoken against treaty with Hitler, vigorously against war with America and publicly predicted Japan's defeat. For this un-Japanese outspokenness he was banished from Tokyo and given sea command. The rest is – as they say in the books – history.

   Gambler, poet, painter; he seems of all World War 2 warriors – odd man out. Sailors say he rarely leaves suite. Strange Supreme Commander!

Other news! Battle in Coral Sea! According to Radio Tokyo: “Coral Sea defeat has created an end-the-war unrest among Americans.” Seems to me I heard that song before. The Coral Sea runs to east coast Australia. Why was our fleet there? Why no mention of landings? Is it mask for defeat? Shortwave American accounts claim they turned back a “Jap” invasion and put two of our carriers out of commission; bad news for Operation M since the two are the Zuikaku and Shokaku which were slated to join Nagumo's Strike Force, so instead of six carriers, we go into the battle with four. Admiral Nagumo requested delay until the damaged carriers are operational but Yamamoto refused because he wishes to present the Emperor with a victory before July 1^st. Is this the man who in 1939 predicted Japan would lose a war to America?

5. The Party is a Bust

26 May 1942. At last! After two weeks watching torpedo-plane practice-runs, I got an invite to a party in the Admiral's suite. At 7 PM I appear on command deck in black suit with tie & tails as for diplomatic function. Entering cabin I am greeted by Himself – barrel-chest, broad-shoulders, clean-shaven face and piercing eyes. Instead of bowing he shakes hands powerfully and flashes the brilliant, sardonic smile I have heard about. My research has him 1.6 meters height but like most great personages he projects larger than life. To set off and thus emphasize his grandness he dresses in simple white naval uniform with 4 gold stars sewn on each collar.

   He takes me into spacious inner cabin where daily meetings take place at round table like the fabulous King Arthur's. The geisha have converted it into a party room hung with charming red and blue mobiles ala Alexander Calder. Certainly Yamamoto either approved or designed it. Once again I am astounded at the man’s cultural breadth.
   Among guests, I recognize Nagumo, Kusaka, Genda and Kuroshima, cocktails in hand.  Also Admiral Tamon Yamaguchi commander of the Northern Strike Force is on sofa, a geisha ensconced on each knee, drinking American scotch.  Saké flows freely poured by geishas. Ever since losing out to Nagumo for the main Strike Force command, the Admiral Yamaguchi has been crazy jealous and now, too full of alcohol, he throws abusive language at the smaller man. 
   Kusaka's loyalty to his chief forces him to speak. “Shut your foul mouth!”
   Yamaguchi leaps to feet, upsetting table and grappling with Kusaka, as Nagumo scrambles out of way. Yamamoto ends the fight with karate chop, and the 2 geisha pick up the limp body and carry it off.

The party is a bust! Main course – sea bream in salted bean paste – is cooked wrong and looks & tastes like rotten porridge. Genda, who is superstitious, tells me it is a bad omen. The affair ends before midnight with repeated toasts of “Banzai!” to the Emperor.

6. One Iota of Difference

Wakened by knocking.  With Barnacle Bill the Sailor puzzlement (To hear the non scat version, click the  BARNACLE BILL THE SAILOR by Hoagy ... - YouTube  and then return to text)
   I go to door and recognize the fair young maid from last night – Yamamoto's geisha. After hurriedly dressing while she waits I follow to the Admiral’s suite. 
   Stepping across threshold I find the Supreme Commander on knees in sea blue yukata, stroking Chinese characters in charcoal on a long, half-meter wide strip of white rice paper stretched tautly just off the floor. He seems not to notice me. His short powerful body concentrates energy on brush tip which traces out poem about peaceful sea and fishing village along shore. I wonder if it is for self or admirer. It would command a price in Tokyo especially with his “56” on it. He strokes out final character then presses personal stamp onto what will be lower right hand corner. He turns.

   “Good morning, Kimura. Are you an expert on poetry and calligraphy?”

   I protest I am an ignorant, itinerant newsman unqualified to comment.

   “Well said. You ought to be working for our Foreign Office. Zeus knows, we need brains there, and other places too.” He signals the geisha who rolls up the scroll, wraps it in purple ribbon bow. “Accept my scrawl and scroll as memento.” He motions me to the sofa.  

I alternate between sipping tea and taking notes as the Supreme Commander, informally sitting sunk in soft cushions, addresses remarks to me while the geisha girl seated on rug below him on right strokes his hand. The Admiral is well educated by our standards and conversant with English literature from Beowulf to Boswell. And it becomes clear as his words pour out that just as that jaunty James did for a certain Samuel so he the Admiral expects me to do for him. He has researched me in depth even dipping into my university work. He snaps fingers and the geisha stands and leaves.

   “Now, Kimura, we go off record. If you tell it around I shall find out, I assure you, and you will be shot.” He stands and lights cigarette. “You probably wonder about me. I know everyone is psychoanalyzing. The consensus seems to be I am a gambler. Well, Kimura, I admit my motives are complex but this war is no gamble: it is a certainty. America’s winning is a socio-psycho-historical given based on its overwhelming industrial, political and psychological superiority. The only questions are: How soon and what will be the conditions of our surrender?”
   The Admiral starts to pace while I ponder the enormity behind his words and, thinking of the deaths and destruction that each new day of war brings and the coming mayhem in air & sea in Operation M, I can only conclude the man is a gargantuan moral monster.
   “Well, what did you expect, Kimura? Some grandiose gesture like cutting my hair and retiring to a monastery like General Matsui after his troops raped Nanking? I see past the outer forms too clearly to take that tack. It would be irresponsible egoism. Matsui’s troops have gone on to rape other cities while he becomes a monk. Or perhaps you expect me to don a white gown and slit my belly leaving an obscure anti-war poem? In that case I would merely have succeeded in bloodying a gown and making a mess someone else will have to clean up.
   “Individuals do not count in the historical process, Kimura. Had Napoleon died in mother's womb the environment would have selected another to do as he did and little would have changed. We military commanders have little to do with the outcome of wars so I do not worry about winning. I am interested only in testing my theory of air power. Regardless of which side wins, the loser will be battleships and the winner aircraft. What happens at Midway will not make one iota of difference in the historical process.”

   The Admiral accompanies me to the door where a geisha waits to take me to my cabin. Placing right arm on my shoulder he says “Kimura, I am appointing you official historian for Operation M. You go tomorrow with the Southern Strike Force and I have instructed Nagumo to allow you access to all aspects of the Operation. I expect it will be the greatest sea battle of all time and I desire a professionally written account of it.” He shakes my hand and gives me over to geisha guidance. In one swoop I have got a front seat at Midway.
   For next, click 6.(7-9) Midway - A Grand Delusion - Nearer & Neare...