On August 6th, 1945 President Truman authorized the use of the atomic bomb, "Little Boy" to be dropped on Hiroshima where some 70,000 Japanese soldiers were known to be in training. Col. Paul Tibbets in his B-29 named the Enola Gay, carried out the mission of his President. Three days later, the "Fat Boy" nuclear bomb was dropped on Nagasaki which was not the primary target, and was only selected as a last resort. In Hiroshima, about 140,000 people died and in Nagasaki about half that number. There is no denying that these two bombings were horrifying events never before experienced in the history of humanity, and hopefully will never occur anywhere again. Truman, who ordered the bombings must have carried a terrible burden with him, but why did he make the choice that he did as Commander in Chief? Many have criticized him for the decisions he made, but my guess is that these critics did not have to fight the Japanese on their own island and that these critics had no one in their families who were going to be in the invasion boats.
For one thing, I had had enough of combat, killings, and death in the European Theater, and while waiting in Whidbey Island, Seattle, for orders to fly to Asia, I was in the throes of PTSD, and I knew with absolute finality that if I continued as a combat air crewman, I would not survive the war. After 60 combat missions, several of which were beyond harrowing, I was simply a robot in my duties. Many forget the millions killed by Japan in the war against China and of the rapine of Nanking, and of the brutality visited upon American POWs. Suicide killings are not the invention of Islam. Japanese "Kamikazes" terrorized the entire American fleet by flying their planes directly onto our ships or into our own aircraft. Although I have never, ever spoken or written about it in my book-- until now-- I was loathe to kill any more young men like I did German airmen and submarine sailors. I was a "killing" machine and for that I wear my DFCs rightfully to honor the buddies that did not come back with me. Sixty-three years later, I still carry the mental scars of that European war and the scorpions in my dreams. Loved ones must try very hard to understand that some things are not forgettable and some wounds never heal.
Consequently, I must go along with President Truman's decision to use nuclear weapons. The alternatives were unacceptable. If Adolf Hitler had beat us to it, imagine what would happen to England and the U.S. So, when you read about what should be done about Iran's nuclear plans, the answer has to be clear, especially if the leader of that country is another madman.
While writing this blog, the phone rang three times...usually after the second ring Rhoda picks up, but this time she didn't, so I picked it up and it was my grandson Sean calling from California. He seemed very upset that a prestigious magazine published a full page spread of his picture in the act of surfing a large wave and he was not identified as the guy in the photo. I told him the thing to do was to call or email the Editor-in-Chief or the publisher and tell them he would like to be identified with some kind of apology in their next issue. He asked if he wrote that email and sent it to me, would I copy read it and make suggestions about how it can be improved to get the results he would like. Stay tuned.
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