Whirlwind - Barrett Tillman [50]
The saturation attack overwhelmed the defenses. Flak was described as “meager” and fighters were “nil.” American casualties were astonishingly light, though the oft-battered 497th Group sustained all three losses. Ed McElroy, the Doolittle Raider, survived his second flight to Tokyo and, still nursing his strained back, soon was rotated stateside.
The previously unmatched success of Mission 38 proved a turning point in the air war against Japan. It marked almost the hour and minute when XXI Bomber Command turned from high explosives to firebombs as the means of destroying Tokyo’s industry.
LeMay often is credited with the decision to switch to incendiaries but he later acknowledged that several others in the Marianas and Washington made contributions. Shortly before Hansell left, Norstad had urged Arnold to support “a test incendiary mission” to assess the value of a fire raid on Tokyo.
But incendiaries were only part of the equation. Planners had recognized the doctrinal importance of mass, with a large enough bombing force to maximize the effects of the fiery weapons. That meant building up the B-29 wings and stockpiling enough ordnance for a sustained effort to overwhelm the defenses for a period of several days.
The decision to switch from explosives to incendiaries implied a change in targeting: from the first-priority aircraft industry to urban areas. Norstad himself addressed that concern in early January, insisting to Arnold that the test mission represented not so much a targeting shift as “a necessary preparation for the future.” The implication was obvious: once Japan’s aircraft industry was destroyed, the next target set would involve the greater urban-industrial areas and the cottage industries that supported other major manufacturers.
Another factor in the evolving plan was bombing altitude. LeMay’s operations officer, John Montgomery, already had endorsed “low-level” night missions, though still above 20,000 feet. Others such as wing commanders Rosie O’Donnell and Tommy Power pushed for even lower altitudes, while at least a few in Arnold’s Washington circle later made similar claims. But regardless of who else supported the departure from the doctrine of high-altitude bombing, it was LeMay’s call. Without giving away his intentions, he queried Norstad, “You know General Arnold. I don’t know him. Does he ever go for a gamble?”
Curt LeMay was playing the game. Knowing the immense pressure Arnold felt to make a success of the B-29, LeMay wanted to keep his chief removed from the line of fire as much as possible in case the gamble went awry. Norstad was noncommittal—he had his own chips on the table—but apparently did not ask specifics. LeMay came away with the impression that “being a little unorthodox was all right with Hap Arnold.”
In truth, LeMay was thinking far beyond “a little unorthodox.” He was thinking of not merely throwing away the AAF’s playbook, but burning it to cinders—along with Tokyo.
After concurring with some trusted acolytes, in late February LeMay gave serious thought to a low-level nocturnal fire raid on the enemy capital. However, his concept of low level was totally outré.
Two decades before, as an Ohio State ROTC cadet, LeMay had studied artillery. He had taken his old manuals with him to England in 1942 and used the tables to compute rough values for the effectiveness of German antiaircraft cannon against bomber formations. Now he dug out his books again and applied that same icy analysis to Japan. The mathematics, combined with his extensive flying experience, told him what he intuitively suspected. A low-level night attack, compressed into minimum time, would present enemy flak gunners with only fleeting targets, speedily ghosting