Kokura
” It was to spare the Japanese people from utter destruction that the ultimatum of July 26 was issued at Potsdam. Their leaders promptly rejected that ultimatum. If they do not now accept our terms they may expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth.”
~ Harry S. Truman, August 6th, 1945
“You got another one of those damn things?”
“Yessir.”
“Where is it?”
“Over in Utah.”
~ Alleged conversation between General Curtis Le May and Colonel Paul Tibbets, August 11th, 1945
Though Truman had had to express a public image of calm conviction in the hope that the American people would follow his lead, he was privately seething at the fact that the Japanese had left him to look like a fool. Shortly after hearing the news of the aborted peace he darkly ordered the next bomb to be used as quickly as possible on Tokyo, to wipe out the new Government and leave the survivors with no illusions as to the scope of American power. Before this order could be carried out however he was quickly brought his senses by George C. Marshall, his Chief of Staff, who pointed out that bombing Tokyo would likely destroy the Imperial Palace, and potentially take the Emperor with it, inspiring the remnants of the Japanese government to resist all the more fanatically. However it was agreed that a third bombing would take place, both to bolster American morale after it’s plummet in the wake of the news that the war was not over, and to create the impression in the Japanese mindset that the Americans had a limitless supply of bombs that they would continue to drop until the Japanese surrendered. The target would also take on a strategic role, striking the Japanese preparations for defence of the Home Islands should the Americans need to invade.
Captain William “Deak” Parsons, the man in overall charge of the transportation and handling of the bombs had planned and organized the assembly facilities on Tinian islands to handle a steady stream of bombs in the wake of the Hiroshima attack . However, despite the plutonium production facilities at Hanford continuing to work at full capacity, only one bomb was readily available on August 15th, the essential materials of which were already on their way. The B-29 Silverplate’s Spook and Jabbet were on route to the United States to transport the core of the third bomb (unceremoniously dubbed ‘Fat Man #2’) along with the other necessary workings from San Francisco to Tinian. There the bomb would await preparations for its final destination, over northern Kyushu
Unlike most Japanese cities in 1945, the war had not actually reached Kokura. Isolated air raids had taken place in some areas, more for psychological reasons than anything else. Yawata, a sister city of Kokura, and an industrial giant of 250,000 people had been victimized by such an attack only two months previous. However, little damage had been done, either materially or psychologically, and business went on as usual. Kokura, with the islands largest arsenals, railroad shops, and ordnance works, had been the target of the original Fat Man on August 9th but heavy cloud cover had spared the city in favour of the bombs secondary target, the port of Nagasaki. Had the war ended on August 14th the towns absurd luck of surviving an Atomic attack due to bad weather might have been celebrated by later generations, but the successful coup had only ensured a delay for the city on the targeting schedule. On August 21st, luck, and time, ran out.
The hundreds of American and Dutch prisoners of war who had been made to labour in the towns ordnance works, unaware of the fate of Hiroshima, had been confused on August 9th when their guards had fled to the nearest shelters at the site of only two B-29’s, now they ran again, some of them bizarrely weeping as The Great Artiste, flew by Captain Frederick Bock, cast its payload over Kokura’s railway station. For a few brief moments of searing pain their confusion was ended, before their world was ripped apart. Whilst the original Fat Man’s power had been somewhat shielded by the mountains surround Nagasaki, its brother would send a shockwave equivalent of twenty three thousand tons of TNT unhindered across the Kitakyushu. As before the initial fireball simply vaporised those in the vicinity of the railway station, and left many others in the surrounding area to stagger around blinded and in flames, their skin melting in the intense heat as their wretched screams added to the screech of the blast, the thunderous noise of a door closing in heaven, before their bodies were torn to pieces along with the buildings around them, tens of thousands more would join them as the blast spread destruction across the land at the speed of sound. By the time the infamous mushroom cloud had formed to tower above the skyline, over half of the area’s population of 178,000 were either dead or seriously injured.
Whilst the news of the third bombing and the images of the Kokura inferno did indeed boost the morale of the American home front, the Anami government did not flinch, even at the perception of an unending supply of American bombs that they did not believe to be possible. Moves, however where taken to disperse as much industry and personnel from potential targets as possible along with the beginning of the relocation of the government from Tokyo to the Matsushiro Underground Imperial Headquarters outside of Nagano, designed to be able to survive heavy bombing, it was hoped that the complex could also protect the Emperor and the Supreme Council from an Atomic attack. A couple of days after the bombings, a communique was relayed to Truman, that hundreds of Americans had died in the Kokura attack, and that from now on the 15,000 western allied prisoners in Japanese captivity would be moved to the centres of Japan’s main cities, becoming human shields. It was hoped that this would demonstrate Japanese resolve to the Americans and turn American public opinion against the bombs. Of course the public would never know, but as the core for the next bomb would take several weeks, Anami might have been led to believe that his ploy had worked. In reality he was no longer thinking about the bombs coming from the west, at all his attention had been turned north.
For in Rumoi a scattered and confused garrison scrambled around in terror as odd looking planes let loose a torrent of bombs, diving down on their targets and obliterating them, as they had done to so many of Japan’s former allies. From the foggy coast, the shapes of a flotilla of ships emerged.
And they flew the Red Flag.