The Final Storm - Jeff Shaara [25]
“How about I find a way to get you those airbases closer to Japan? Right now there are several thousand Jap planes anchored on Formosa and Kyushu, and God knows where else, and every damn one of them is fired up to go out in some asinine blaze of glory. I’m scared as hell of those kamikaze strikes. You hear what they did to the Franklin?”
LeMay shook his head, still scowling, and Nimitz said, “I just received the report this morning, General. The Japs took a hell of a swipe at us, after you bombed those airfields on Kyushu.” Nimitz felt his own heat rising. “Five carriers took direct hits from those sons of bitches. But the Franklin got it the worst. More than seven hundred sailors were lost, blown to bits, burned to hell. So, if you’re having trouble getting incendiaries, then use high explosives and give me a hand somewhere besides Tokyo. Just because you can beat the hell out of somebody doesn’t mean you should. The Jap civilians aren’t our priority right now. The Jap troops waiting for us on Okinawa are. I don’t want my boys going across those beaches worried about what’s about to drop on them from the air. You want air superiority? So do I. So let’s start by giving it to those boys who have to worry more about Jap bayonets than Jap fighter planes. I’m authorized to call upon you for B-29 support, and I’m doing just that. Put your people over those Jap airbases, drop a thousand mines in the Jap harbors, keep their warships the hell out of our way.”
LeMay seemed to sulk.
“No B-29 is going to stop any damn kamikaze. We blow hell out of their airfields, and they take their Zeroes or their crop dusters or whatever the hell else they’re using back into the brush, hide ’em until we’re done. I’ve seen those reports too. We bust up an airfield, and slave labor fills in the holes the next day.”
“No arguments about this, General. I know your orders. Until the Okinawa landings are completed, and that island is secure, your bombers will do everything I need them to do. Supply will catch up, and I’m certain that you’ll get your incendiaries. But right now …”
“Fine. Put your staff in touch with my logistics officers. For now, there’s not much else I can do.”
“Plenty you can do. Just do it for me, instead of Hap Arnold. I promise you, he won’t mind. He doesn’t want Admiral King beating down his office door, bitching about your lack of support.” Nimitz paused, thought he saw a hint of a smile from the man who almost never smiled. Nimitz had calmed, took a sip of the bourbon, savored the sweet burn. “General, how about we put every ounce of energy into capturing Okinawa? You’ll have your emergency airstrips, and you’ll have your staging area for your fighters. In no time we’ll have that place fixed up so your boys can get back to work on those Jap cities. I know damn well you’ll pin a medal on the first fighter pilot who machine-guns the emperor’s front door.”
LeMay seemed to ponder the image, nodded slowly.
“Yep. Suppose I will. Look, Admiral, I’m not oblivious. I know what it’s going to cost to rout a hundred thousand enemy soldiers off Okinawa. I know what it cost to take Tarawa and Peleliu and all the rest. All I want is for you to give me the airbases, get me close enough to do my job like it needs to be done. Hell, I’ll bomb MacArthur’s headquarters if it’ll end the war any sooner.” Nimitz flinched, and LeMay seemed to know he had crossed the line. LeMay lowered his voice, one fist slowly pounding the table in front of him, his words following the steady rhythm.
“You send that damn Buckner out there to get me those airstrips. That’s what I want.” He stood, clamped his hat hard under his arm. “One more thing. When you go out to Iwo Jima, pat a couple of those Marines on the back for me. We’ve got a hell of a flock of Superforts who need those landing strips, and I know your boys got beat to hell grabbing them. Hope it’s not as bad on Okinawa.”
3. ADAMS
AT SEA, NEAR THE CAROLINE ISLANDS
MARCH 23, 1945
“Bust him up!”
“Left hook! Come on! One more!”
Adams heard the roar of voices, ignored them, his