Captain Robert L. Faurot with his P-38F Lightning 42-12623 Nose 16 parked at 14 Mile Drome (Schwimmer) Credit: US Army Signal Corps, NARA SC-168885 Date: January 20, 1943. He was killed in action just 41 days after this picture was taken.
Robert L. (Bob) Faurot was born on the 19th August 1917 in Missouri and attended Mizzou, playing in the Orange Bowl in 1939. Joining the Army Air Corps and training at Randolph and Kelly Fields, Foults was picked to head to Great Britain in 1940 to fly as an observer during the Battle of Britain. He got some hours in single seat Spitfires and Hurricanes with the Nos. 303 and 306 Squadrons, RAF, which were manned by Polish exiles before returning to the states just before Pearl Harbor.
When the balloon went up he was flying P-39s with the 39th Pursuit Squadron at Selfridge Field, Michigan and the squadron, reclassified as the 39th Fighter Squadron, got orders to rush to Australia. Converting to the P-38 Lightning, Faurot led a bombing mission (yes, using P-38s) on the Japanese Air Base at Lae, New Guinea, destroying a Zero that was taking off in the process.
On March 3, 1943, during the Battle of the Bismarck sea, Capt. Robert L. Faurot was killed-in-action when the B-17s his squadron was jumped by about 30 Zeros.
More on Faurot below.
The 39th, the famed “Cobra in the Clouds” squadron is still around as the 39th Flying Training Squadron (39 FTS) at Randolph Air Force Base, Texas.
Heckler & Koch will supply the Lithuanian armed forces with additional G36 assault rifles and the new 40mm grenade launcher, the HK269. The Lithuanian Ministry of National Defence placed the order at the end of August 2016. The contract is for approx. €12.5 million (USD14 million). Delivery will be in 2017.
The G36 has been the Lithuanian Army’s standard assault rifle since 2007. The new order is for a modified version of the G36, which the Lithuanian armed forces have designated the G36 KA4M1. The weapon configuration that has been ordered corresponds to the experience, observations and recommendations of the users. The modular G36 KA4M1 will be equipped with new buttstocks, slimmer handguards and modified sight rails. The 40mm HK269 that is being introduced at the same time differs from its predecessors in that it is possible to open the barrel on either side, so that the weapon can be used with ease by both left and right-handed users.
It’s not the only update to the country’s military, as Lithuania has received about 200 combat and medium-lift Mercedes-Benz GD vehicles, trucks and other military vehicles from the Netherlands in a $7 million deal to supplement and update the Baltic country’s military fleet.
This comes as NATO has announces a commitment to base four mechanized battalions (drawn from U.S., British, German and Canadian forces) in Eastern Europe backed up by a further 5,000-man Joint Task Force.
Warship Wednesday Sept. 7, 2016: The river plover and the black flags
Taken by Doctor Charles-Édouard Hocquard
Here we see the paddlewheel dispatch boat (aviso à roues) Pluvier of the French Marine Nationale in Haiphong harbor in the 1880s. Designed for use in Senegal, she instead was sent to French Cochinchina, where her interesting design proved most useful.
She was the fifth vessel in the French Navy named in honor of the wading plover bird, preceded by three Napoleonic-era gunboats all lost in those conflicts and a 4-gun fisheries patrol cutter who sailed for 32 years.
Built in Cherbourg in 1880, she was a humble ship of some 500-tons, 165-feet oal length. Her steam propulsion plant was an obsolete paddlewheel, chosen for its use in shallow riverine waters in the growing French African colony. Her armament: a pair of smoothbore naval guns one fore, one aft, and two Hotchkiss revolving cannons in her canvas foretop–just the thing for controlling a riverbank.
Her Hotchkiss could be used on ship’s boats to get in closer as needed.
Termed a dispatch boat, most other navies would classify the shallow draft gunboat as a sloop, corvette or large gunboat. At the time of her construction, the French navy ordered four paddle wheeler dispatch boats all named after animals: Albatross, Peacock, Plover (Pluvier) and Squirrel (Ecureuil), all to different designs, for overseas colonial service.
Pluvier‘s skipper, Lieutenant de vaisseau commandant M. Vedel, was a gentleman and he sailed for Cochinchina in 1881, as trouble was afoot there.
First, let us talk about Indochina, and how the French acquired it.
In September 1858, France occupied Đà Nẵng (Tourane) and within six months conquered Saigon and three southern Vietnamese provinces: Biên Hòa, Gia Định and Định Tường. The southernmost part of Vietnam became a colony known as Cochinchina, and within two decades, the French were ready for rapid expansion.
On 25 April 1882, French naval captain Henri Rivière stormed the ancient citadel of Hanoi in a few hours without warning, leading Governor Hoàng Diệu to kill himself after sending a note of apology to the Emperor. This act of pretty blatant colonialism alarmed the Vietnamese and Chinese governments but didn’t stop them from allowing Rivière to capture Nam Dinh the following March (where Pluvier‘s Hotchkiss guns came into play, see illustration below).
With the French openly moving to annex Tonkin by force, the Chinese and Vietnamese approached exiled warlord Liu Yongfu and his pipehitting Black Flag Army to join a three-party coalition in which the Chinese and Viets were willing to fight to the last Black Flag foot soldier.
Though the Black Flag was able to nearly annihilate Riviere’s force (and kill him in the process) at the Battle of Paper Bridge, a renewed French effort (the Tonkin Expeditionary Corps under Gen. Alexandre-Eugène Bouët) was able to smack around Yongfu at Phu Hoai in August 1883 and Palan that September, putting him on the run but not breaking him.
While the Black Flag Army along with reinforcements from the Chinese and Vietnamese armies proper holed up in the walled fortress of Son Tay, Gen. Bouët resigned his position as head of the Tonkin Corps and was replaced by one Admiral Anatole-Amédée-Prosper Courbet who decided he needed a lot of expeditionary firepower in the form of French naval might.
This new force, the Flottille de Tonkin, consisted of nine small coastal gunboats (chaloupes-canonnières); the mighty ironclads Bayard and Atalante as well as the cruiser Châteaurenault from the Mediterranean; and the Pluvier, upon which Courbet hoisted his flag. Even though just 165-feet long, she was the most impressive ship that could traverse the Sông Hồng River (Red River/Fleuve Rouge ou Song koi) to Son Tay– the ironclads and cruiser left behind in the coast.
And upriver they went, the gunboats, Pluvier, and a force of requisitioned local steam launches, junks and tugs on 11 December.
Son Tay
Courbet’s 9,000-man force was made up of a cornucopia of Cambodian riflemen, a battalion of the Foreign Legion, two North African battalions, some Tonkinese riflemen, and two battalions of French Marines and armed sailors from the flotilla who toted some mixed artillery behind them. It was a motley, polyglot force to be sure.
French marine infantryman in Tonkin, 1883
French marine infantrymen in Tonkin. Taken by Doctor Charles-Édouard Hocquard
Uniforms of the Tonkin expeditionary corps, 1885 (fusilier-marin, marine infantryman, Turco and marine artilleryman
The battle joined on 14 December and it seesawed back and forth, with the better French units (Legionaries and Marines) doing to bulk of the heavy lifting and receiving most of the casualties on Courbet’s side and the Black Flags doing the same on the side of the locals. Liu Yongfu ordered three large black flags to be flown above the main gate of the citadel of Sơn Tây, bearing Chinese characters in white, and promised a heavy fight, to which his Chinese and Viet regulars cheered and then proceeded to wish his troops the best of luck.
The crew of the Pluvier gave hard service ashore, fighting on foot with the Marines while her gunners poured steel rain down on the 1000-year old masonry fortifications and villages from their fighting tower.
The French gunboat Pluvier engages the Vietnamese defenses of Nam Dinh with her masthead-mounted canons-revolvers, 27 March 1883. Published in Le Monde. She did much the same at Son Tay
Pluvier’s men in the attack across the canal
Finally, on the morning of 17 December, after forcing the gates the day before, the French stitched together a huge tricolor crafted from strips of cloth torn from the captured Black Flag banners and hoisted it over the citadel as Courbet made a triumphal entry on horseback, a modern Caesar.
The battle cost France 83 dead and 320 wounded, but it cost Yongfu much more as it broke the back of the Black Flag Army, who slunk away into the jungle. Within months, the warlord’s force disbanded. As for Courbet, he returned to his bluewater flagship, the ironclad Bayard, and died of cholera in the Pescadores in Makung harbor on the night of 11 June 1885.
While the admiral’s body was returned to France and received a hero’s burial (and several naval vessels named in his honor: an ironclad in service from to 1909, a battleship in service from 1913 to 1944, and a modern stealth frigate, F 712, presently in active service) the humble Pluvier remained in Indochina, performing constabulary service for another decade that included fighting pirates in the Gulf of Tonkin, some of whom were out of work Black Flag veterans.
Meanwhile, in 1887, Cochinchina, Annam and Tonkin became French Indochina, which it would remain until 1954.
Ancient Son Tay reverted to a provincial backwater, though it was used as a military staging point by the North Vietnamese to keep high value material out of nearby Hanoi– and served as the location of a POW camp for captured Americans that was the subject of an epic rescue attempt in 1970 that led to the formation of SFG-Delta.
About Pluvier‘s most notable use after Son Tay was that she carried Prince Henri d’Orleans to Siam on a state visit.
She was sold in 1898, a paddle wheeler in naval service whose time had passed. From what I can ascertain, she remained in commercial service as a coaster for at least another decade.
Since then, the French Navy added a sixth Pluvier (a tug built in Nantes in 1917 then lost at sea between Toulon and Cattaro in 1919), and renamed a seventh Pluvier (the former WWII-era U.S. Navy harbor tug YTL-160) who served until 1967.
In a more appropriate honor, the eight Pluvier, patrouilleur de service public (PSP) gunboat P678, of the OPV58 (Flamant-class) design, was commissioned in 1997. Like her Son Tay ancestor who she is roughly the same size as, she is designed for coastal surveillance work, and was coincidentally built in Cherbourg.
The ship carries a Médaille commémorative de l’expédition du Tonkin and other relics in honor of the Son Tay gunboat.
Lightly armed, her sailors, supported by the ship’s heavy machine guns (Brownings instead of Hotchkiss this time) are ready to go ashore when needed.
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has it place. If you LOVE warships you should belong.
Fire Mountain Outdoors walks you through a simple dye job for sand flavor Magpul PMAGs, for those who want to go with a non-traditional color for their favorite AR.
I must admit, I do have a sudden urge for banana yellow.
Pretty soon, relics such as these will be all that is be left of Indy…
The ex-USS Independence (CV-62), last of the Forrestal-class of aircraft carriers that plied the seas from the 1950s to the 1990s, will begin its final voyage to Texas later this year to be turned into razor blades. The Navy is paying International Shipbreaking of Brownsville $6 million to tow the 90,000-ton vessel from the West Coast, around the Cape, to the Lone Star State and cut her to pieces in accordance with some very strict guidelines. The same firm has won contracts in recent years to break the Saratoga, Ranger, and Forrestal.
This steady selloff of old supercarriers leaves only USS Kitty Hawk, decommissioned in 2009, and USS John F. Kennedy, decommissioned in 2007, on “donation hold” for use as museums or memorials, while the Navy has issued a Request for Proposals for the USS Enterprise.
As noted in the Brownsville Herald, International Shipbreaking is vying for that job as well.
Currently at Bremerton, Washington since 1998, Indy gave 39 years of hard service including a tour off the coast of Vietnam in 1965, airstrikes against Syrian forces during the Lebanese Civil War and operations over Iraq during Operation Southern Watch.
Here we see an all-steel Catello Trabuzio (also spelled Tribuzio) Palm Pistol, produced in the 1890s in Italy, the ring you see at the base of the grip is the trigger that doubles as a safety (by collapsing). Turning the safety a few more twists one can remove the cover and inspect the inside.
This repeater 8mm semi-auto uses a top-loaded magazine and incorporates a witness holes in the side for the gentleman and lady on the go to keep easy count of how many rounds they had left. This one is in the collection of the National Firearms Museum but they do pop up at auction from time to time, priced around $2K.
Click to big up. Snap shot out of the CAF “blue Book” from 1975, via CAF
47 years ago today: On September 5, 1969 the S.S. Rosaldina arrived at the port of Brownsville, Texas from Latin America with six Republic P-47 Thunderbolt “jugs” brought back from the Peruvian Air Force and turned over to the then-Confederate Air Force (now the more PC Commemorative Air Force), a non-profit organization dedicated to preserving and showing historical aircraft at airshows primarily throughout the U.S. and Canada.
The group currently owns 162 classic aircraft, including the airworthy #44-89136 Lil Meatie’s Meat Chopper and the static #44-88548 (a P-47N-5RE).
The U.S. Customs and Border Protection’s (CBP) Air and Marine Operations (AMO) recently announced the completion of its 14th and final planned P-3 Orion aircraft overhaul.
The CBP has been taking old P-3s (mainly A models) from the desert in the best condition and sending them through a SLEP program that provides new wings and tail for each Orion and completely strips down the aircraft to its bare metal for inspection. Out goes the Navy’s ASW gear, in goes new avionics and Custom’s mission systems, then they get a paint job in Homeland Security livery.
“AMO has provided a new lease on life for this aircraft that was sitting in the desert, just three years ago.” said Mike Toner, Designated Agency Representative at the Greenville, South Carolina Depot in a statement. “I flew the desert aircraft from Tucson, Arizona to Greenville. It’s great to see her flying in CBP colors now and ready to serve for years to come.”
Once the USN transitions fully to the P-8 by 2019, CBP will be the 4th largest user of the P-3 platform in the world behind Japan (73 P-3C and 13 modified Elint variants– though they are rapidly being replaced by the Kawasaki P-1), the Royal Australian Air Force (18 AP-3C, 1 P-3C) and the ROK Navy (16 P-3CKs). It is very likely that by 2020, once the P-1 gets fully produced, CBP will be the biggest Orion herder left.
Other P-3 operators are eager to keep their vintage birds in the air as well.
Flight Global reports that Boeing has been signed by New Zealand to conduct upgrades on their P-3K2 Orions. The $26.06 million deal will see Boeing replace aging, less reliable systems on the Orions, allowing the country to re-instate its ASW capability. What’s a P-3K2, exactly? The Kiwi Orions have been in service since 1966, with five aircraft originally delivered as P-3Bs, and then upgraded in the 1980s to P-3K standard. A subsequent upgrade saw them designated as P-3K2s. The new systems (which will make them P-3K3s?) will help keep them in the air through the mid-2020s.
With the heat and humidity hovering in the 90s, and rainfall being an everyday reality, my summer everyday in Florida consists of the following:
Smith and Wesson .38 Spl Model 642-1 (no lock) Airweight with Altamont round combat super rosewood grips and fed with Remington High Terminal Defense 110 grain JHPs, a Five Star HKS style speedloader stoked with the same, blue Swiss Army Cadet, Steamlight Stylus Pro LED and a Seiko Solar.
Total weight, all items: 1 lb, 12 oz. flat including Bianchi IWB leather holster (not shown). Throw in Jeep keys, wallet and mobile device and you are good to go.
“A man mustn’t
walk without weapons
even an inch from home,
because he never knows when,
as he pursues his path,
he’ll suddenly need a spear.”
With the anniversary of VJ Day this week, I was brainstorming something.
The jury will always be out on just what won the U.S. Civil War: the defeat of Lee in the North, Grant’s splitting of the Confederacy by capturing Vicksburg, Sherman’s total war campaign across Georgia, and the turn to take on Johnston in the Carolinas, the South being bled white by losses that it could not replace as the North grew stronger every day, the refusal of Britain to come into the war in support of the South…maybe all of the above.
Of course, I wager that all of the above would have been much harder to pull off without the Anaconda plan, if not impossible.
Envisioned by that “The Grand Old Man of the Army,” Gen. Winfield Scott, the North’s war chief at the beginning of the conflict, Scott– aged 74 when the balloon went up– earned his commission as a captain in the artillery in May 1808 and knew firsthand how much the War of 1812 sucked when the Brits had default naval superiority and controlled the coastline. Sure, the plucky U.S. Navy and a force of privateers raided around the globe and took the fight to the Brits in their home waters, but they couldn’t keep the RN out of the Chesapeake or from landing at New Orleans.
Then there was the blockade.
Robert, 2nd Viscount Melville, who had become the First Lord of the Admiralty in June 1812, noted that,
“We do not intend this as a mere paper blockade, but as a complete stop to all trade and intercourse by sea with those ports, as far as the wind and weather, and the continual presence of a sufficient armed force, will permit and ensure. If you find that this cannot be done without abandoning for a time the interruption which you appear to be giving to the internal navigation of the Chesapeake, the latter object must be given up, and you must be content with blockading its entrance and sending in occasionally your cruisers for the purpose of harassing and annoyance.”
At the end of the war, Scott, who advanced to major general (brevet) during the conflict, remembered the lessons when it came to 1861 and he recommended an idea coined “The Anaconda Plan” to rigorously (if somewhat passively) blockade all of the major and minor Confederate seaports, and seize control of the mouth of the Mississippi, to ensnare and strangle the budding rebellion, cutting them off from imports of munitions and manufactured goods they had no factories for, as well as exports and of agro goods on which their economy was based.
Implemented in the first few weeks of the war, the blockade of the rebel coast proved extremely effective, though some blockade-runners always got through even in the last days of the war. In true capitalist fashion, many of these runners carried luxury goods on their return trips rather than muskets and shells, as there was more profit per pound in the former.
Enter July 1945
With the end of the war in Europe in May, the culmination of the apocalyptic battle for Okinawa (Operation Iceberg) at the end of June, the starving remnants of Yamashita’s Japanese 14th Area Army reduced to isolated pockets on Mindanao and Luzon in the Philippines, and the British annihilation of the Sakurai’s 28th Army in Burma the same month, the biggest nut left to crack (other than bypassed forces Java, Southeast Asia, and China which was a whole ‘nother thing), was the Japanese home islands.
We all know what came next.
A continuation of the intense and unrelenting long-range air campaign by the AAF’s heavy bomber force flattened and rained Japan.
Progressive erasure of Japan’s chief cities…
The map shows the percentage of city destroyed in Japan with an American equivalent for scale
At the same time, the Army prepared Operations Olympic–the land invasion of the southern island, Kyūshū; Coronet–the assault on the main island, Honshu; and Pastel, a diversionary fake-out. The effort, expected to use four full U.S Armies as well as a combined Commonwealth force, would have heaved 55~ infantry and armored divisions across Japan’s beaches under the world’s largest umbrella of Allied air and Naval power in an effort that would have made D-Day look like a yacht club regatta.
The thing is, Olympic/Cornet/Pastel was expected to cost, as noted by Secretary of War Henry Stimson’s staff, upwards of 1.7–4 million American casualties, including 400,000–800,000 fatalities, and 5- to 10-million Japanese fatalities. With the Japanese plan for absolute resistance, Operation Ketsugō, putting millions of untrained and laughably equipped civilians into bitter village-to-village, street-to-street, room-to-room fighting, those figures may have been conservative.
The Kokumin Giyū Sentōtai (Patriotic Citizens Fighting Corps) — that included men and boys 15-60 and women 17-40 — were armed with everything from obsolete 1880s black powder Murata rifles to clubs and bamboo sticks with anti-tank mines attached.
On 31 August 1945 the Japanese reported on hand 1,369,063 rifles and light machine guns with limited ammunition of only 230 rounds per weapon. Records later indicated that actually some 2,468,665 rifles and carbines were received by the Occupation forces and later disposed of. The Japanese reported more artillery ammunition than small arms ammunition. Ammunition for the grenade launcher, often known as the “knee mortar,” was also more plentiful; some 51,000,000 rounds were reported, or an average of 1,794 rounds for each weapon.
This, as we know it, led Harry Truman to drop a couple atom bombs and threaten more, leaving the Emperor to sue for peace and avoiding the above. In effect, saving the lives of those 6-14 million lost on both sides in estimates.
But was there a third option?
Anaconda 1945
Murderers Row at Ulithi atoll. The Japanese could never match the U.S. and her Allies on the high seas after 1944.
The invasion fleet in place in the Pacific by the end of July 1945, made up of U.S., Commonwealth, and French naval assets, amounted to no less than 42 fleet and light aircraft carriers, 100 escort carriers, 24 battleships, 500 destroyers, and destroyer escorts, and nearly 180 fleet submarines including British, Australian, and Dutch boats. The majority of these were new wartime construction with a large portion just off their shakedown cruises.
To oppose this armada, in Japanese Home Waters there was a small and battered Imperial naval force consisting of four battleships (all damaged), five aircraft carriers (all damaged), two cruisers, 23 destroyers/large escorts, 46 seagoing submarines, 115 short-ranged Kōryū-class midget submarines (with another 496 building), 200+ smaller Kairyū-class midget submarines (with 760 planned), 120 Kaiten manned torpedoes (with another 500 planned), 2,412 Shin’yō suicide boats, and 13,000~ aircraft of all sorts.
Koryu Type D Midgets at Kure at war’s end. Though hundreds of these would have no doubt caused havoc among the LSTs on X and Y day, they were short-legged and hard to use in the open sea, making them less of a threat to bluewater forces.
Of these, most were capable of littoral operations only, which, due to extensive mining of Japanese coastal waters by Allied forces, was a danger all its own.
Yamoto’s last cruise. By July 1945 very few Japanese naval assets remained afloat and in the Home Islands
In effect, there was no way that the Japanese Navy could lift a blockade of their shores, especially if one was done far enough out to sea to limit the effect of manned torpedoes and kamikazes.
The islands were suffering from an extended lack of food, fuel, and raw materials, all of which had to come by sea.
The Japanese merchant fleet by August 1945 had been reduced to 1,466,900 tons, about 1/5 of its pre-war strength, and many of these ships were damaged or incapable of operations. With every wave hiding an Allied periscope and every cloud a B-24 ready or PBY/PBM, it was hazardous to a Maru’s health to poke around in blue water.
Therefore, this leads to the speculation that the Allies could have paused in late July 1945, kept the Manhattan Project up their sleeve, placed Operations Olympic/Cornet/Pastel in a holding pattern, and concentrated on a renewed Anaconda plan around the Home Islands.
With Guam, Tinian, and Saipan-based B-29s continuing their operations over the skies of Kyūshū and Honshu, flatting factories and military targets; PBYs and PBMs could haunt the coastline looking for things to sink while sowing sea mines so thick you could walk across Tokyo Bay without getting your feet wet.
Loading aerial mines on a B-29 of the 468th Bomb Group, 24 January 1945. No less than 12,000 mines were dropped into Japanese coastal waters by U.S. forces during the Pacific war. Most dropped from the air in 1945. (NARA)
The surface fleet could establish an exclusion zone around the islands, standing far enough offshore to avoid Shin’yō and Kaiten, enforcing a blockade on the high seas to cut off communications and supply coming from Java, Southeast Asia, and China, letting Japan wither on the vine.
While the Empire still had thousands of aircraft ready for kamikaze attacks, most were single-engine trainers and fighters with short legs. Of course, there was the possibility of long-range suicide raids, such as the Japanese Operation Tan No. 2 in which 24 Yokosuka P1Y Ginga (Francis) bombers flew from Kyushu to attack Ulithi on a one-way 1,100-mile trip, but such strikes took planning, knowledge of Allied fleet movements, and– most importantly– lots of fuel and expendable yet well-trained aircrews capable of navigating precisely over water, neither of which the Japanese had in abundance at that stage of the war.
With the Okinawa campaign showing the Japanese were capable of one-way single-engine aircraft attacks some 400 miles out from Kyushu, a surface fleet blockade zone some 600-700 miles out would keep the Japanese supply lines severed while remaining relatively safe. With F6F’s capable of an 850nm combat range and TBMs as well as the larger follow-on F8Fs some 1,100, its conceivable that Hellcats/Avengers and Bearcats could be launched by carrier groups coming in a tad closer from time to time to get in some coastal strikes over Japanese harbors if Halsey and Spruance felt strongly about it.
Inside the exclusion zone, the massive Allied submarine fleet could keep doing what they did best: sinking Marus and anything afloat with a meatball on its flag. While doing so, they could form early warning pickets for outgoing long-range kamikaze raids and lifeguard service for downed B-29 and PBY crews. Nighttime shore bombardment with their 3 and 5-inch guns could add an element of harassment to outlying areas. This could work with deception and psywar operations to keep the Japanese land forces shuttling from point to point, wasting resources and keeping men tied down on the beach and in the hills waiting for an amphibious assault while the cities, plants, and marshaling yards in the rear burn.
However, what of the Japanese forces overseas?
On the day of surrender, the Imperial Japanese Forces totaled 6,983,000 troops including construction units, naval, and air forces. Of these, Army and Navy forces stationed within the home islands numbered 3,532,000, which meant that nearly as many, some 3.4 million, were still scattered around the Pacific from Manchuria to the Solomons:
-In China, the 900,000-strong Kwantung Army of Gen. Otozō Yamada (along with another 200,000 toy soldiers of the Mengjiang and Manchukuo Imperial Armies) sounded massive on paper, but was filled with the bottom of the barrel units and armor that could be stopped with your average sticky bomb much less a Sherman or T-34. When the Soviets muscled in starting on 9 August, they swept through all of Manchuria with their 1.5 million Ivan force within two weeks. Sure, you can argue they could have held out longer if the Emperor had not ordered Yamada to lay down his arms on 15 August, but either way, this force would have been steamrolled by Stalin by October regardless. The same could be said of Lt. Gen. Yoshio Kozuki’s 17th Area Army in Korea, though allowing Moscow to sweep through the whole Korean Peninsula may not have been politically acceptable in the West.
-Stroke-addled Gensui Count Terauchi Hisaichi’s 680,000-man Southern Expeditionary Army Group controlled French Indochina, Singapore, Thailand, Malaya, New Guinea, Borneo, Java, Sumatra, and a dwindling slice of Burma but was facing a huge Indo-British-Australian effort to keep pushing him out. Though they laid down their arms to Lord Mountbatten on 12 September 1945 following the surrender order, the odds that they could have held out against the tide was slim and Hisaichi’s scattered command would likely have folded by that Christmas regardless of events in Japan. Sure, far-flung units would likely have held out longer (it should be remembered that an estimated 1,000 Imperial Japanese Army troops joined Indonesian guerillas and fought the Dutch into 1948) but this would not have ended the blockade of the Home Islands.
-General Rikichi Ando’s 10th Area Army in Taiwan consisted mostly of poorly trained reservists, conscripted students, and local Boeitai home guard militia with some units equipped with sharpened bamboo pikes and longbows. They surrendered to Kuomintang General Chen Yi on 25 October 1945 as almost as an afterthought but could have been left, like Japanese garrison island Truk, to remain isolated in our Anaconda redux effort.
-Smaller forces existed in the Philippines, New Britain, the Japanese naval and air base at Truk, Wake Atoll, the Bonin Islands, Mili Atoll, Jaluit, the Ryukyu Islands, and others. Over the course of a July-December 1945 Anaconda campaign, they could continue to either languish as being strategically invaluable or be captured in small-scale sideshow operations. By that time, most of these areas had been pulverized.
Mili Island, in the Marshalls, for instance, had been the target of 18 months of ceaseless bombing by U.S. Marine Corps aircraft when the surrender order came in Sept. 1945.
Photo #: USMC 134057. Mili Island, Mili Atoll, Marshalls Group. Damaged Japanese Navy Type 89 5″/40 twin dual-purpose gun mount on Mili, at the time of the island’s surrender in late August 1945. Photographed by R.O. Kepler, USMC. U.S. Marine Corps Photograph.
Photo #: 80-G-347131. Emaciated Japanese Naval Personnel. Photographed at a Japanese hospital in the Marshall Islands, 15 September 1945. They show the effects of the blockade and constant bombardment of “bypassed” Japanese-held islands in the central Pacific over the last year and a half of World War II. The location is probably Wotje or Maloelap Atoll. Photographed by Photographer’s Mate First Class Louis Lazarow, of Naval Air Base, Majuro.
So as the theory goes, could a six-month naval and air blockade/bombardment of the Home Islands, say stretching to January 1946, the bitter winter of the new year, coupled with the eventual reduction of the Empire’s overseas outposts, have resulted in Japan seeking peace?
During this time, the B-29s and the newly-introduced Consolidated B-32 Dominators would have covered Japan with fire from sea to sea.
Capable of carrying 20,000-pounds of bombs on each sortie, AAF personnel at Clark Field, Philippines, get their first look at a Consolidated B-32 Dominator in May 1945. Comparable to the B-29 in size and performance, B-32s saw service with only one bomber squadron before the war’s end. (U.S. Air Force photo)
Between January and July 1945, the U.S. firebombed and destroyed all but five Japanese cities, deliberately sparing Kyoto, the ancient imperial capital, and four others. The extent of the destruction was impressive ranging from 50 to 60% of the urban area destroyed in cities including Kobe, Yokohama and Tokyo, to 60 to 88% in seventeen cities, to 98.6% in the case of Toyama….Overall, by one calculation, the US firebombing campaign destroyed 180 square miles of 67 cities, killed more than 300,000 people and injured an additional 400,000, figures that exclude the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki…
Suffer the POWs
At-risk during the pressure cooker of Anaconda 1945, would be the more than 36,000 Allied personnel of various categories located in approximately 140 POW camps in the Home Islands. Another six months of firebombing and evaporating supplies of medicine and food would likely have led to most if not all Allied POWs in the Home Islands losing their lives either through neglect or culling by the Imperial Army.
At least one source maintains that in the last three months of the war, 173 American POWs were murdered in Japan, including 62 burned alive in their cell blocks by guards. Surely, these instances would have increased if the war continued.
Also, there is the Japanese nuclear option.
Japan managed a small-scale atomic program going as far back as 1931 and had both centrifuges and cyclotrons as well as a tiny amount of uranium on hand during WWII, which they attempted to weaponize. Hitler tried to help a brother out and sent U-234 to Japan in the last days of the Third Reich with plans for radars and super weapons as well as 1,200 pounds of uranium oxide. However, when Germany surrendered, the U-boat’s commander was ill inclined to complete his epic voyage and made for the U.S. where he raised the white flag to an American destroyer south of the Grand Banks, Newfoundland on 14 May.
This left the Japanese woefully short of heavy water and uranium and, while some reports have surfaced that hinted the program was still making progress in the last days of the war, was likely never going to produce a workable bomb. Further, even if by some unlikely miracle Tojo pulled off an atomic strike on a U.S. anchorage via aircraft, or West Coast port city via submarine, the retaliation made possible from the more advanced American atomic program would have seen the last remaining Japanese cities glow in the dark– while still not breaking the blockade or clockwork firebombs.
Further, barring a radio broadcast by the Emperor or military coup by the peace faction, Japan’s government may have still been willing to fight to the last bullet in January 1946, leading to Truman dropping the bombs anyway and/or Operation Downfall getting the green light.
In conclusion
Would a rehashed Anaconda worked and brought peace by 1946?
Possibly.
But would it be worth it?
Hundreds of thousands if not millions of additional Japanese would have perished between 1 July-31 December 1945 due to famine and flame that otherwise survived following the actual events. Further, thousands of Allied POWs that made it home in real life would have likely found shallow graves on Japanese soil. Add to this would be Allied submariners sunk by uncharted mines in the winter of 1945 and even more American airmen parachuting into hostile and very hungry villagers below.
Strategically, Anaconda would have extended the war by six months and cost billions of extra dollars keeping huge fleets at sea, B-32s in production, and men under arms. Further, the Soviet Union and likely Mao’s Red Chinese Army would have made much more extensive gains during the last half of 1945 than actually occurred, leaving the prospect of Korea and Taiwan still being vassal states of one or the other.
In retrospect, and in my personal opinion, Anaconda 1945 may have worked, but the A-bombs and Hirohito’s subsequent decision to run a peace appeal was and is the better choice.