DECEMBER 7th
By
JAMES H. THOMPSON
During World War II, the United States of America was fighting a one-front war with Japan after the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor. The reader is privy to international intrigue, secret military plots and counter plots at the very highest levels of both the United States and Japanese governments. A stunningly accurate and detailed alternate history.
About The Author
James H. Thompson is a veteran of the Korean War. He is a university graduate with a degree in Geology. As a professional he has traveled and worked in various countries in Africa and South America. The author is a master storyteller as demonstrated by this well written original narrative.
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Maverick Publishing
HOUSTON,
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DECEMBER
7th
By
JAMES H. THOMPSON
An
Alternate History
Or
Is It?
e-Book 2002
www.mittymax.com
Copyright 2002
DECEMBER 7th
By
JAMES H.
THOMPSON
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright
2002
e-Book
Maverick Publishing
HOUSTON, TEXAS
DECEMBER 7th
By
JAMES H.
THOMPSON
FICTION
All the characters in this book, with the exception of
actual personages identified as such, are fictitious and any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The names, incidents, dialogue
and opinions expressed are products of the author’s imagination.
DECEMBER 7th
By
JAMES H.
THOMPSON
PROLOGUE
It is January of 1945 and
the people of the United States of America have elected a Pacifist
President. Immediately, he sues for a
conditional peace with Japan and the Emperor of Japan agrees to peace talks
with the government of the new American President. Both countries, after nearly three years of fighting a costly and
futile war, have begun to realize that neither country can win the war. Peace is the only way for both countries to
survive.
In the United States, the war effort never materialized after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7TH, 1941. Instead, a peace movement slowly replaced the initial war spirit of the nation and the American people chose the Peace Party candidate to be their new President in the November elections of 1944.
In the Pacific war, neither country, the United States nor Japan, had a military advantage over the other. All the sea and land battles ended in an overall stalemate. It was an impasse for both of the warring countries.
With no ships to carry food
supplies and raw materials to their homeland, the Japanese nation and its
people became more famished every day and began to lose interest in the
military aspirations of their country.
The Emperor noted this discontent in his people and was more than glad
to accept the American President’s proposal to terminate the war in an
honorable manner. A few of his subjects
were opposed to his decision, mostly military generals and admirals along with
some of his cabinet members. All of them were members of the supersecret Cherry
Society.
The United States, following
a pacifist and isolationist foreign policy, was producing ample foodstuffs and
raw materials to feed the world and was willing to share this natural wealth
with the other countries of the world—for a price of course!
The war in Europe was continuing. Germany was fighting a two-war front—the Soviet Union to the east, and England and its Allies in Western Europe. Germany hadn’t declared war on the United States after the Japanese attack on the American fleet at Pearl Harbor in 1941, as she had promised Japan. As a result, the United States of America remained neutral in the European conflict.
The previous American Administration had started an exploratory Lend-Lease program, but this would soon be changed under the new pacifist American government. The new policy would require payment on a “cash only” basis—making war more expensive for the belligerent countries and very profitable for the United States of America.
WASHINGTON D.C.
The White House
Sitting in the presidential
office, President William Osborn looked at his newly formed cabinet of advisors
through his horn-rimmed glasses. He had fought a difficult political campaign
against the former president and his Liberal party, but he and his Pacifist
party had won the election. The
American people had rallied behind him, and he was now obligated to carry out
his major campaign promise—mainly to put an end to the senseless war with
Japan, and return America and its people back to a peaceful and prosperous
life.
“Well, gentlemen,” the President said, “Let’s get right down to business. I want to tell the American people some good news today.” He was going to give a news conference this afternoon on the White House lawn. Looking at his Vice President, Harry Browne, he asked, “What have you got for me on the truce arrangements?”
“Things look real good,” he answered. “The Minister of Free India is willing to preside over the preliminary truce conference in Bombay next month. He says the Emperor of Japan is anxious to end the war.”
“So are we,” the President interjected. “I’ve decided to send you to the conference. You can pick your team as you please. Try to get the best terms you can—but get them! I want the war ended as soon as possible. As far as I’m concerned, you can give them all of Southeast Asia. We, the United States, have no right to meddle in that place. Let’s leave it up to Japan and India, or whatever other country that may want to be the policeman in that region.”
“Right, sir,” Vice President Harry Browne answered. “I’ll do my best in keeping with the new foreign policy of the United States—‘Peace at any cost.’ Right?”
“That’s right,” the President repeated. “Peace at any cost.”
Turning to his new Secretary of State Ray Stark, the President asked, “What is our situation in the Pacific now? You know ships and such—our military assets?”
“Not too good. We have one submarine deployed in the western Pacific and one destroyer escort protecting Midway and the Hawaiian Islands,” Secretary Stark replied. “Afraid that’s it, sir.”
“That doesn’t give us much to bargain with,” the President said. “What do the Japs have?”
“Not much either. It seems that our subs have sunk most of their merchant ships and all of their surface ships including their aircraft carriers and battleships. They don’t have much more in the way of ships than we do. Active men of war, that is to say.”
“That’s something in our favor. How about the ships we are building right now?” The President asked.
“Well, as you already know, the shipbuilding program never really got off the ground. We have several cruisers and one battleship under construction, and four or five auxiliary ships—tankers and supply ships—in various stages of construction,” Secretary of State Stark said.
Turning to Vice President
Browne, President Osborn said, “We may have a definite advantage here. Suggest to them, the Japs, that we may be
able to loan or sell them some merchant ships.
The tankers and cargo ships only, and that we won’t build any more ships
for our military. Tell them, we can or
will, deliver food, oil. . . whatever.
Even tell them we will deliver scrap iron to them. From our intelligence reports, I understand,
they may be starving over there. And
sure as hell, they need oil.”
“That’s a good point, Mr.
President,” Browne replied. “We may not
be in such a poor bargaining position after all.”
“Sure, don’t give in too
easy, but I want the fighting stopped.
That was a campaign promise and I want to stick by it,” President Osborn
said in his usual firm voice. “Dangle a
few more carrots to them. You know,
like maybe—a lend-lease program of some kind or other. I want them to know that we will negotiate
this truce on very easy terms for them.
Peace at any cost—remember?”
“Mr. President,” Secretary
of State Stark said, “the military won’t be too happy with all this disarmament
talk. They still think we have a chance
that Japan will surrender. Our
intelligence suggests the Japs, and even the Emperor, are more tired of the war
than we are. In fact, they have even
less military capability than we do, and as you said—their people are
starving. Ours aren’t.”
“Your point is well taken,
Mr. Secretary,” President Osborn replied.
“But I am the President of the United States and the military people,
the generals and admirals, work for me—not me for them. If they give you any static about our peace
proposal to the Japs, tell them that I will cut off all future military
appropriations. That should let them
know who’s running this country. I
promised the American people peace and that’s what I’m going to give
them—peace!”
“Peace at any cost,” Vice President Browne joked.
“That’s right,” President
Osborn, said, a smile on his face. “Now
get a truce proposal on my desk before the end of the week. Now, how about our domestic agenda? What’s happening there?”
“We are working on it as
fast as possible,” Vice President Browne advised the president. “Hopefully, and with a little luck, it will
be presented to the Senate in about two weeks.”
“That’s good,” Osborn
replied. “You included the no-draft
amendment? That’s a campaign promise
and I need to let the American people know that I keep my promises.”
“Yes, Mr. President, it’s
included in the package,” the Vice President replied. “Want to hear what else is included?”
“No, not really,” he
replied. “Are there any important
meetings scheduled for the next few hours?”
Looking at his clipboard and
shuffling a few pages of paper, the Vice President said, “No, nothing till
after lunch.”
The Secretary of State
nodded in agreement with the Vice President.
“Good, if anything important
comes up before then, I’ll be in the Blue Room,” President Osborn said.
Getting up from his new
desk, he stretched his arms and waved good-bye to his cabinet members. They rose and smiled as the President left
the room.
“What’s so important in the
Blue Room,” Secretary of State Stark asked, a puzzled look on his face. “Has he got a secretary in there?”
“No, a train. He’s built a whole railroad in there,
complete with a station, railroad yard, bridges, the works. It really looks like the real thing.”
“Any chance we can get to
see it.”
“Sometime when he’s out of town
we’ll sneak in and take a look at it. I
haven’t played with a train in a long time.”
“Neither have I,” the
Secretary of State replied.
TOKYO, JAPAN
The Imperial Palace
“Glad you could come to this
meeting today,” the Emperor of Japan said to the group of ministers and
military advisors sitting in front of him.
“Today we have to reply to the proposal from the United States to end
this terrible war once and for all. I
need your expertise and comments on this matter, and hope, we can agree unanimously
to their proposal. Has everyone read
the peace proposal?”
There was a nodding of heads
from everyone present—some with feigned smiles on their faces, others with
small frowns of disagreement. The
Emperor noted these facial expressions, but he continued speaking in his
monologue voice.
“I think we should accept
their peace proposal and send a delegation to the meeting in Free India for the
signing of a preliminary cease fire and stop this carnage,” the Emperor
said. “But first, we need help for our
people and will need to ask for food, oil and medical supplies from the
Americans. Do we agree on this matter?”
“Asking for those things
will just make the bargaining with the Americans much harder,” Foreign Minister
Sasaku Tadamich said. “We need to negotiate
from a strong position with them.”
“Yes, I agree,” War Minister
Koichi Ito, replied. “Remember, we
control almost all of the western
Pacific area, including the coastal ports of China, and Australia has surrendered
to us. We are victorious, not the
Americans.”
“That is true,” the Emperor
replied, sorry to hear his war minister take such a hard line. “But our people are starving. We have no vessels to transport basic
foodstuffs and oil, even if they were available to us. The United States has the resources to do
so.”
War Minister Ito looked at
his staff of admirals and generals.
They nodded agreement with what the Emperor had said. They knew that the people of Japan were
tired of the war too, and that, although Japan controlled the western Pacific
militarily, their soldiers were starving on many of these tropical islands and
were almost on the verge of revolt.
“But we will lose ‘face’ if
we agree too readily to their proposal,” War Minister Ito argued. “If we beg for food from the Americans—aren’t
we the losers?”
“Not if we approach them in
a civilized and respectable way,” Prime Minister Hideo Nomura said. “Remember, we attacked first and they—the
Americans—asked for a cease-fire first.
There is your difference.
Therefore, we are speaking from a stronger position. Aren’t they, in fact, surrendering to us?”
“That is a good point,” the
Emperor interjected, wishing he were tending his flowers instead of attending
this meeting. Why had he let these same
men talk him into going to war in the first place?
“Why doesn’t the Emperor
leave the arrangements for ending the war to military people? Why doesn’t he go
and play with his silly flowers?” the war minister asked himself.
The Emperor’s private
secretary, Kito Kaoru, whispered something to the Emperor and the Emperor rose,
and said, “Well, let’s think things over and meet again, say in two hours, to
discuss a final solution to this war.”
The cabinet ministers,
admirals and generals rose and bowed as the Emperor left the room. All of them wishing they were somewhere
else. The words—peace and cessation of
hostilities—weren’t in their vocabularies
Meeting of the Cherry Society
That evening in Prime
Minister Hideo Nomura’s private study, the conspirators, now known as the
“Cherry Society,” met to consider the requests of their Emperor Hirohito. They
took the name “Cherry Society” from the first group of Japanese militarists
opposed to civilian political interference in their objectives. These military
officers—army and navy and certain dedicated politicians—proposed a
continuation of the policies of the original members of the Cherry
Society: territorial expansion by
direct military action and complete control of their area of influence—the whole
of Asia. Assassination of anyone opposing
them would not be ruled out—even the Emperor of Japan—if need be. This was
their creed and ideology. Failure to
them would mean forfeiture of their lives!
“Do you think the Emperor
has any idea what we are planning?” War Minister Koichi Ito asked.
“He’s too busy with his
flowers and worrying about the people to pay attention to anything we do,”
Prime Minister Nomura replied.
“Yes, that’s true,” the
Emperor’s private secretary Kito Kaoru, said, “but don’t underestimate His
Majesty, he’s quite astute at times.”
“True, very true,” Nomura
said. Turning to Admiral Seiji Iki, he
asked, “Anything new on the whereabouts of the German ship?”
“The last report was that
she was ready to leave with the German physicist and his equipment,” Admiral
Iki said. “They were waiting for a
storm front to arrive, and then, they were going to leave right behind it,
hoping to avoid any English patrols.”
“Let’s hope they succeed in
getting to our port in Occupied Australia without being discovered,” Nomura
said. “Everything depends on the German
part of the plan, you know.”
“The Emperor asked the other
day about his flower farms in Australia,” Secretary Kaoru said. “He wants to visit there once the peace
process is over. He thinks it is a good
place for the excess Japanese population to emigrate; where they can tend his
flowers for all the world to see that Japan is really a peaceful country.”
“But we know better,” War
Minister Ito said, his lips pursed. “It
will be quite a surprise what we have planned for him and the Americans.”
The other plotters
agreed—not saying a word—but by the grim and evil smiles on their faces.
OFF THE COAST OF AUSTRALIA
USS Tuna
The USS Tuna was on station off the eastern coast of Japanese occupied Australia. Since leaving Pearl Harbor, she hadn’t encountered any Japanese ships of any kind—warships or cargo vessels on her voyage to her assigned patrol area. Her orders were to continue search and destroy operations against enemy ships. She had passed through the Solomon Islands, then turned south to the secret submarine base in New Zealand, but had seen no Japanese ships at all. After refueling, the USS Tuna left for routine patrol duty off the southeast coast of Australia—the Tasman Sea.
Nearing the Bass Straits, she had surfaced and was recharging her main storage batteries, and waiting for the nightly report broadcasted from ComSubPac in the Hawaiian Islands.
“Request permission to come topside,” Commander Robert “Andy” Anderson called to the Officer of the Deck, Ensign Cecil Biggs, who was standing on the open bridge of the submarine.
“Permission granted, Skipper,” he called down from the conning tower to the open hatch.
Climbing up the ladder from the inner compartment of the submarine, Commander Anderson took a deep breath of the salty air, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark Australian night sky.
“Any news from Pearl?” the OOD asked.
“No, there’s nothing new. Just the same story—that peace feelers are going both ways and there may be a truce meeting in India,” Anderson answered. “Nothing that will change our cruise, anyway.”
“Well, there is nothing exciting about this area,” the OOD remarked.
“That’s for sure,” Anderson replied. “I don’t know why ComSubPac even has us out here on patrol.”
“The Japs probably don’t have many ships of any kind left,” the OOD remarked. “We have been pretty successful against them.”
“Right, they never learned to convoy their ships and that made our job a lot easier.”
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Ensign Biggs asked.
“I sure was,” Anderson replied. “I helped to get ComSubPac the sub base in New Zealand.”
“Right. I remember now. Your sub and another sub sank that Japanese invasion fleet headed toward New Zealand.”
“Yep, that was a real humdinger of a patrol. The Wahoo was north of us and sighted the Jap convoy—four troop transports, two tankers and three destroyers. They were out of Rabaul and headed for New Zealand. They planned to invade New Zealand and control the South Pacific. Australia had surrendered without a fight, but the new Zealanders were going to fight.”
“Anyway,” Anderson continued, “we headed north and the Japs came right to us. We were several hundred miles off Auckland when we sighted them. The Wahoo and us coordinated the attack and planned to hit them at first light. But the Japanese destroyers headed east, ahead of the transports and tankers. The transports formed up on the tankers and started taking on fuel. They were sitting ducks and without any escorts. The Wahoo fired first; then, we let go with a four-torpedo spread. What a sight. The tankers literally blew straight out of the water, and the troop transports went down in less than five minutes. There were Japs all over the place—swimming for their lives. About then, the three Jap destroyers showed up. They tried to pick up survivors, but I guess, they forgot about us. The Wahoo fired again, sinking two of them, and we got the other one. Nine Jap ships sunk and I don’t know how many troops drowned. It was a real crapshoot. After that, the Japanese Navy never came near the Tasman Sea again.”
“Wow, I guess those were the days,” Biggs said. “So, that’s how we got the sub base in New Zealand.”
“Right again. The next day, New Zealand pilots reported nothing but debris and swollen Japs floating in the ocean,” Anderson said. “For helping to save New Zealand from the Japs, we got a supply base for our subs and the eternal gratitude of the New Zealand people.”
The boat took a steep roll to port and both the sailors lurched on their feet.
“We must be near Bass Strait,” Anderson said, “The swells are starting to change.”
“You’re right. Another ten minutes, or so, and we reverse course and we might be in for some weather soon,” the OOD said, pointing to the east.
“Right,” Anderson agreed. “Keep an eye on it and submerge sooner if you want to, but better check with the engineers before you do. We want the batteries fully charged at all times.”
“Yes, sir,” the OOD said, as the boat took another steep roll.
“I’m going below,” Anderson said, “Care for some coffee?”
“No, thanks, I’m all coffeed-out.”
Taking one last look at the storm clouds on the horizon and another deep breath of fresh air, the Captain of the USS Tuna went below, leaving the OOD and his two lookouts on the open bridge.
Going into his sea-cabin, Commander Anderson looked at the picture of his wife and daughter. With any luck, he would be home with them in a few weeks if the peace talks take place and a truce is signed. He hated these three-month patrols, especially when they had nothing to shoot at. In the beginning of the war, he would have used up all his torpedoes in three weeks, four weeks at the very most, and return to Pearl Harbor as if it had been just a simple training mission. But now?
“Captain to CIC,” sounded over the sub’s intercom system. The words shattered his thoughts of home. Hurrying to the CIC room, he looked into the darkened space where the Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Elmer Forrest, and First-Class Radarman Charley Fisher were staring at the illuminated radar screen.
“What have you got?” Anderson asked.
“A radar contact, sir,” Forrest said, “It’s near the squall line east of us. Keeps fading in and out, but it’s a ship for sure.”
“Got a course and speed?
“Not exact yet, but the contact appears to be on a westerly course, coming directly towards us,” the radarman said, “I’ll have its course and speed in a few minutes, sir.”
“Keep on it,” Anderson ordered. “What’s our battery rating?
“Pretty close to hundred percent,” Lieutenant Commander Forrest replied.
“Good, dive when we have a speed and course on the contact,” Anderson said. “Then set a course to intercept it. It may be something worth looking at.”
“Contact is 42 miles out, speed 6 knots, course due west, sir,” the radarman shouted out. “It’s definitely a ship coming out of the squall line and heading straight for us.”
“Dive! Dive!” Lieutenant Commander Forrest ordered.
The boat slowly disappeared below the storm swells of the Tasman Sea.
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