The Long Hard Road

Chapter Twenty-Five: Peace In Our Time

HMAS Canberra

Sea of Japan

5^th May 1942

The night was dark; the Japanese islands hardly broken by a glimmer of light. Captain Mike Warburton admired the Japanese discipline; even Australia hadn’t been able to maintain such a curtain of darkness when faced with the threat of invasion. It seemed so safe and tranquil.

“Captain, we can see the light,” Lieutenant Arnstain muttered. The New Zealander pointed a long finger out at the island; a single dull light shone from a fishing boat.

“Take us in,” Warburton ordered. He shuddered; the orders had been unusually specific and detailed. They had been given a guarantee of safe conduct, and the Japanese had very little left to chase them anyway, but he was nervous. No submariner liked being on the surface so close to the enemy islands.

The fishing boat grew closer and closer. He picked up his night-vision equipment and checked the boat; only seven people were on the tiny ship. He blinked; the craft was truly tiny, more like a pleasure boat than anything else. He knew that the Japanese had attempted to spread out their fishing industry as much as possible, but he would never have dared to use such a boat on choppy seas.

“Flash the light,” he muttered, and Arnstain obeyed, sending a flickering pulse of light across the water. The fishing boat didn’t move, but its passengers crowded to the edge, peering out at them. “That’s them?”

Arnstain held up a picture as the two boats came very close, close enough for them to make out faces. “That’s that ambassador,” he said. The Japanese woman was pretty, he supposed; it was just her eyes that were strange. They gleamed in the dark, like a cat’s eyes. “And that’s the admiral.”

Warburton studied the little Japanese man as the fishing boat bumped alongside the submarine. He was tiny, but there was an unquestionable air of… discipline around him, and an air of despair. One of his hands wasn’t right; it had been wounded way back in the past.

“Yamamoto?” He called into the darkness. He was amused to see the expressions of flickering anger on some of the Japanese sailors. “Are you ready for the trip?”

“Yes, thank you,” Yamamoto said. He didn’t seem to mind the implied insult. “Shall we come onboard?”

“Make ready the plank,” Warburton ordered. Yamamoto could have hopped onto the submarine, but he wanted to be certain that there were no accidents. The plank was duly attached to the fishing boat; Yamamoto stepped across very sprightly for his age. Ambassador Yurina followed him, taking his hand as he held it out for her.

“Those two are a couple, or I’ll eat my hat,” Arnstain muttered.

Warburton ignored him. “Welcome onboard the Canberra,” he said, opening the main hatch. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll submerge and make our way back to the Ark Royal.”

“That would be very kind,” Yamamoto said. Ambassador Yurina was starting to shiver, so Warburton waved them both into the hatch and into the main hull. Arnstain recovered the plank and followed them down into the hull.

“We’re going to be running at full speed,” Warburton said. If it had been up to him, no Japanese would have ever set foot on his ship, but Admiral Turtledove had been very specific. Canberra would host the Japanese Admiral for his trip, and that was all there was to it. “I would suggest that you took a seat and stayed out of the way.”

He ignored it as the two Japanese spoke rapidly in Japanese, holding hands. He realised with sudden amusement that Yamamoto was trying to reassure her, whatever was going on, it was important.

Perhaps they’re finally going to surrender, he thought. They’d hunted Japanese shipping ruthlessly, using satellites and GPS systems to hunt down any ship, wherever it was hidden. They hadn’t stood a chance; they’d simply been swept from the seas. Any reasonable government would be trying to surrender by now.

“Perhaps you could tell us what’s happening?” He asked, as Canberra slid under the waves and headed for the position of the fleet. “We’re very curious.”

Oddly, it was Ambassador Yurina that answered. “We can’t tell you, Captain,” she said. “This is far too important to risk raising false hopes.”

HMS Ark Royal II

Pacific Ocean

5^th May 1942

Admiral Turtledove didn’t like politics. Politics had seen his career and his reputation rise and fall, politics had led to risking Australia to win the war, and politics had led to their inability to bring the war to a close. It couldn’t be long before the Japanese started to starve in large numbers – in fact, there were indications that they were already beginning to starve – and finding a solution was imperative.

He gazed up at the map. The Australian forces had snatched most of the Dutch East Indies, only sealing off a handful of fortresses and leaving them to starve, and they were pushing into the Japanese-held islands in the Pacific. It had been a great day when they’d finally made contact with Singapore again, completing the conquest, but what was left to do? They could take Formosa – or Taiwan, as half of his maps still showed it – but past then?

He scowled. He knew that Prime Minister Menzies and most of the Australian cabinet were not in a merciful mode. If Australia had nuclear weapons, they would have used them by now. Instead, they wanted to starve the Japanese out and force them to eat crow, whatever the civilian death toll. They wanted revenge; he knew that some of the Cabinet were already demanding bombing raids and FAE bombs, which would be devastating. Others, however, suggested just leaving them to starve, as they would die quicker if there were more mouths to feed.

He grinned. Hanover had pressed him for a solution, but the truth was that there was none… until they’d picked up some radio transmissions from Japan on the international emergency frequency, from 2015. Opinion had been sharply divided, but they’d risked a reply, and had discovered that the transmissions were coming from the former Ambassador of 2015. Once they’d realised that Yamamoto wanted to discuss a surrender, he’d been quick to arrange a meeting.

“Admiral, the Canberra is surfacing,” his assistant said. “Admiral Yamamoto is coming onboard.”

Turtledove pulled on his cap and nodded politely to Menzies. The Prime Minister had insisted on coming; he now followed Turtledove onto the flight deck. Only fifteen ships of the fleet had come with them, but enough of them were armed and ready to make the Japanese pay for any treachery. He shrugged. They were supposed to be outside kamikaze range anyway.

“Admiral… arriving,” the officer of the deck said, as Yamamoto climbed up the ramp. It hung down from Ark Royal’s hull, allowing him to board without scrambling up a ladder, which might have been tricky with his damaged hand. Turtledove studied him thoughtfully; he wasn’t an impressive as he’d expected, but his eyes glittered with intelligence.

“Welcome onboard the Ark Royal,” he said, shaking Yamamoto’s hand. “Perhaps now we can resolve our differences.”

Admiral Yamamoto wasn’t certain what he’d expected to see when he boarded the future carrier. It wasn’t as big as he’d expected, but the flight deck was loaded with some of the small oddly shaped jets that had wrecked havoc with his forces. Several other ships could be seen, escorting the Ark Royal, and presumably covering it from any attack.

“Please come right this way,” the British Admiral said. He seemed… less cocky than a British Admiral from Contemporary Britain, less convinced of his own omnipotence. Yamamoto followed him into a briefing room and knew that he’d been right to want to surrender; the ship’s very nature spoke of power and wealth.

He studied the Australian out of the corner of his eyes. What would he want? Would he be willing to avoid further bloodshed, or would he insist on forcing Japan to submit or die? Would he be willing to work with Yamamoto, or would he demand complete submission? He shuddered; few Japanese would go along with that.

Admiral Turtledove – a strange name for a fighting admiral – coughed. A midshipman, awed to be in Yamamoto’s presence, poured him a cup of foul-smelling coffee. Yurina had no qualms about drinking it; she took a gulp before it was cool enough to drink.

“I am not a diplomat,” Turtledove said. “I trust that you will not be offended if I speak bluntly?” Yamamoto shook his head; he appreciated bluntness. “Admiral, you have lost the war. Your mighty fleet has been destroyed. Your air force has been weakened greatly. Your army has lost nine of its best front-line divisions. Your merchant marine, which you need to supply your food, fuel and basic resources, is being exterminated even as we speak.”

Yamamoto recoiled. He’d hoped, deep inside, that the British wouldn’t know the true state of affairs. “The physical survival of Japan as a nation is in doubt,” Turtledove said. “How long will it be before your people are reduced to eating themselves?”

Yamamoto met his eyes. “I understand the situation,” he said. “If it were completely up to me, I would surrender, or at least discuss terms. However…”

Yurina recognised his problem, his difficulty at speaking of something so shameful. “Perhaps we could discuss the terms of surrender first,” she said.

Turtledove smiled. “We have some basic terms,” he said. “However… we have to know what the problem is. Are you speaking on behalf of your government?”

His mocking voice irritated Yamamoto, enough to blast its way through his reluctance to speak. “The Emperor is currently being held prisoner in his own palace,” he said. “We need you to help us speak to him.”

Menzies lifted an eyebrow. “Why should we care about your internal problems?”

Could he really be that stupid? Yamamoto didn’t know. “The Emperor would be willing to discuss peace,” he said. “Unfortunately, his… current set of advisors is feeding him bad advice, such as claiming that we’ve sunk nearly three hundred of your ships.”

“That’s the entire pre-Transition Royal Navy three times over,” Turtledove said. He snorted. “Now we know where all the money went.”

Menzies frowned. “And I assume that you wish us to land troops in Tokyo to rescue him?”

“No,” Yamamoto said. “We can land troops. The problem is that they have more battalions dug in around the palace, while I can only bring two naval infantry battalions to the palace. If you were to attack the palace from the air, and use your precision weapons, we might have a chance.”

“I see,” Turtledove said. “And after that?”

Yamamoto took a deep breath. “I will speak to the Emperor, convince him to stand down the troops, and discuss a peace.”

“We would need your agreement for the peace terms before we even considered such an operation,” Turtledove said. “Perhaps…”

Menzies interrupted him. “Admiral, it might be a trap!”

“Can we take the chance that it isn’t a trap?” Turtledove asked. “We have worked out a set of surrender terms, Admiral; are you ready to hear them?”

Yamamoto took a deep breath again. He felt Yurina’s hand steal into his and squeeze gently. “Yes,” he said. “However, I make no guarantee that they will be accepted.”

Turtledove nodded. “We understand your position,” he said. “First, we want a complete evacuation of all of your conquests. Manchuria will be allowed to determine its own destiny, along with Siam and Indochina; Burma will go to India. Formosa – Taiwan – will go to us, along with Hong Kong. You will have nothing outside the Home Islands.

“Second, you will demilitarise for the next twenty years, during which time we will guarantee your security,” he continued. “You will permanently renounce the use of nuclear, chemical and biological weapons and you will be forbidden to research, develop, or stockpile such weapons. During that time, an Allied army will be stationed on your territory, including inspectors to ensure that you keep your word.

“Third, you will democratise. The Emperor may keep his title, but power will be placed into the hands of a civilian, democratically elected, government. The noble families, the army families and the industrial concerns will be broken up; they will no longer be allowed to steer Japan’s destiny.

“Fourthly, your economy will be adapted to service the needs of your people, without conquest. We do not intend to return you to farmland; however, we intend to be certain that you will be unable to threaten the peace of the world for some time to come.

“Fifthly, Japan will assist in the rebuilding of the nations devastated by your war. Fully twenty percent of your GNP for the twenty-year period of occupation will be set aside to aid in the rebuilding.

“Finally, although we understand that the causes of the war were multifaceted, Japan will acknowledge its role in starting the war and carrying out atrocities against helpless civilians. All of the records of the civil service, and the armed forces, are to be made available to a war crimes division, which will have complete powers to investigate and punish crimes. Further, all of your nuclear, chemical and biological research is to be handed over to the commission.”

“You leave us with very little,” Yamamoto said, after a long uncomfortable pause. “Do you not realise that you might be sowing the seeds for the next war?”

“I assure you,” Menzies said, “that there are those in Australia who want to burn down your cities and sow the ruins with salt. Australian opinion will accept nothing less than a humbling peace.” He scowled. “We will not commit mass rape, Admiral, nor will we poison your citizens with diseases, nor will our soldiers hold beheading competitions. We will treat you decently, as long as you surrender.”

“Military resistance is futile, Admiral,” Turtledove said. “You will not get better terms.”

Yamamoto looked up. His eyes were bright with tears. “I was on the deck during the battle when we beat the Russians,” he said. “I witnessed the birth of Japanese power – and now I am to witness its end?”

“For the moment,” Yurina said. “The occupation will not last as long as you suggest, Admiral?”

“Perhaps,” Turtledove said. “Still, there will be retribution for crimes you have committed.”

Yamamoto made his decision. “Can I have a promise that there will be no new terms added on, should I agree now and launch the coup with your assistance?”

Turtledove frowned. “I will enquire of the Prime Minister,” he said, and looked at Menzies. Something passed between the two men. “Prime Minister?”

“I don’t think that the Commonwealth would add extra terms,” Menzies said. “I will place the full backing of my government behind the terms. Now, about launching the coup…?”

Yamamoto outlined the plan. It was simple enough; his forces would travel around the island in the handful of remaining transports and land directly in Tokyo Bay, covered by his single remaining battleship and British air cover. The minefields would be removed by one of his people who had responsibility for the defence of the bay. They would land directly into Tokyo itself, and fight their way to the palace, where they would rescue the Emperor. Once they had saved him, he would surrender Japan.

“And what if he refuses to surrender?” Turtledove asked. “It would be crazy, but he might just decide that he had nothing left to lose anyway.”

“I will ensure that he doesn’t,” Yamamoto said, and felt something inside him die. “Do you agree to support me?”

“I believe that I have the authority to agree,” Turtledove said. “How long?”

“I think between a fortnight and a month,” Yamamoto said. “Long enough to get everything organised.”

Turtledove nodded slowly. “Very well,” he said finally. “We will send you back – Ambassador, do you wish to return as well?”

Yurina nodded. “Yes, thank you,” she said.

Turtledove frowned. “You’re a braver woman than I am,” he said. “Very well; the Canberra will return you to Japan, along with some proper communications equipment. Good luck.”

The Canberra sank slowly under the waves as she left the task force’s defence perimeter, not that it had been needed. Ark Royal’s radars had been clear; the Japanese hadn’t even been aware that they’d been present. They could have gone a lot closer to Japan without them noticing that they were there.

The task force turned south, heading away from Japan. The base at Truk had been damaged by the fighting, but it would suffice as a place to refuel and make new plans. Admiral Turtledove allowed himself a moment of relief; at least Yamamoto hadn’t refused the terms outright, or made ludicrous demands of his own.

“You did well, in there,” Menzies said. A jet would arrive to return him to Australia, but for the moment he was resting onboard the vast ship. “I thought for a moment that he would refuse.”

“He’s a pragmatist,” Turtledove said. “He understands that we would have had to go nuclear, or even just wait for them all to starve. If he can end the war for us, then fine; if not, we’ve lost nothing.”

Menzies lifted an eyebrow. “You have doubts?” He asked. “You, the commander of the force that kicked their behinds twice? You, the man who commands the Commonwealth Naval forces and treats all men and women as equals.”

“I’ve seen enough Marine operations to know that they’re far from easy,” Turtledove said, ignoring the last comment. “There are so many things that can go wrong, particularly fighting in close quarters where our airpower will be less useful than I suspect Yamamoto believes. Dear God; Yamamoto is brave, isn’t he?”

“You’re impressed,” Menzies said. “A hero of yours?”

“He was one of the finest naval commanders of the war,” Turtledove said. “If he’s lucky, half of the Japanese are going to regard him as a traitor, just for saving them from death – the total extermination of the Japanese people. If he’s unlucky… well, they weren’t joking about bamboo shoots under the nails as a torture method.”