1942

Howell wiped his glasses again and shook his head tolerantly. “I assure you of my discretion, Admiral. However, even a nearsighted idiot like me understands that you are not configuring a long-range plane like this as a bomber so you can attack Seattle. I hope you destroy all the Japs on Hawaii.”

Doolittle smiled. He was beginning to like the little man. Perhaps the guy would like a drink? “So do we, Mr. Howell,” he said. “So do we.”

Lieutenant Jamie Priest looked across to where Suzy Dunnigan sat taking notes. He tried to catch her eye, but she didn’t look up and he dared not move. He was by far the most junior officer in the room, and his job was to make like wallpaper until and unless someone asked him to do something.

Admiral King and General Marshall had arrived in San Diego the day before via a grueling ride in a bomber. Now, after a night’s rest, they and their small staffs were more than eager for the briefing Admiral Nimitz had prepared. As usual, Admiral Spruance was with Nimitz. Admiral Halsey was out with his carriers off Australia.

This was the first time Jamie had seen either King or Marshall in person, and he was a little awed. He’d been introduced and gotten a perfunctory handshake from King, who seemed more interested in Suzy’s legs-her skirt was very short as a result of cloth shortages- and a kind comment from Marshall about the Pennsylvania. It made him wonder if everyone knew about his ordeal.

Nimitz stood. “Gentlemen, what we have prepared for the Japs is what my staff has started calling Operation Cork. In the absence of something more stirring, I suggest we keep the name. It was selected because the idea is to cork up the Japanese fleet in a spot where we can get at them, and that spot is Pearl Harbor.”

Nimitz stepped to a wall chart of the Hawaiian Islands. “Admittedly, Cork violates virtually every military principle, particularly since it is predicated on the enemy doing precisely what we wish them to do, rather than what they have the ability to do. However, I believe it is inevitable that the Japs will take their main fleet to Hawaii, and do so shortly after the base becomes viable to them as a result of the completion of repairs to the fuel storage depot. When that occurs, they can use Pearl as a base for striking at the West Coast or, more likely, Alaska.

“We do not believe they will attempt a landing in California, Washington, or Oregon, but we do consider it strongly possible that they will send a bombardment force to California, or land troops at points in Alaska. If they do, the terrain and distance will make them very difficult to dislodge.”

There was a shuffling as that statement was digested. Shelling of American cities had not yet occurred and would cause panic when it did. Even worse was the thought of the Japanese in Alaska, parts of which were closer to Japan than they were to the forty-eight American states.

King swore under his breath, while Marshall was silent. Japanese assaults on the West Coast might spell an end to the Germany First strategy. The shelling of San Francisco or Los Angeles would result in political pressure to concentrate efforts on Japan that could not be ignored. The results would be tragic. King might like the idea of Japan first, but Marshall knew that strategy could cost the United States the war.

Nimitz was satisfied that he had their undivided attention. “As you’ve informed me,” he continued, “neutral diplomats in Tokyo are picking up hints that Hawaii will be formally annexed by Japan in either July or early August. We feel that a ceremonial showing of their fleet will occur to reinforce Japan’s intentions.”

“The fucking bastards,” King said. Jamie looked at Suzy and saw her quick grin. The daughter of a sailor had heard far worse. “Their annexing Hawaii would be a taunt for us to come and get it. So what’re we gonna do to stop it?”

“At the very least,” Nimitz responded, “we have to destroy Pearl as a base. Toward that end, you know of our plans to send Colonel Doolittle on a raid to destroy the fuel depot.”

“A waste of his efforts,” King grumped. “Almost as nonsensical as his original idea to bomb Tokyo from a carrier.”

Nimitz smiled. He had been chosen by King to command in the Pacific and wasn’t affected by his boss’s surly attitude. “Agreed. Even Doolittle would rather attack juicier targets than fuel tanks. If the Jap fleet presents itself, he will attack it. If the Japs don’t come, of course, he will still hit the fuel. At the very worst, it would delay their ceremony.”

Marshall was incredulous. “But he’d attack with only a handful of converted flying boats? It would be suicide.”

“It is not intended to be suicidal. Risky, yes, but not suicidal,” Nimitz said. “There are other plans afoot to hit the Japs and to keep their planes on the ground, or”-he smiled almost impishly-”safe on their carriers. Also, now that the torpedo problem has been largely solved, we will swarm the islands with our subs once the Japs arrive.”