1945

Truman shook his head. "They haven't asked for our help yet, although I might look favorably on such a request. We cannot have Muslims and Jews killing each other. It is inconceivable to me that survivors of the Holocaust cannot find peace in the Holy Land."

The announcement that Britain was going to open up Jewish immigration to Palestine had caused an unexpectedly serious explosion among the indigenous Muslim population. Hundreds had been killed in rioting, and the cities of the Holy Land were burning. Anti-American sentiment in Arab countries was at an all-time high.

In Palestine itself, British forces were hard-pressed to keep order, and there were indications they favored the Muslims anyhow. Truman had already decided that the British might be getting help from American forces now in Europe whether they wanted it or not.

"What's being done to stop the Russians?"

Good question, Truman thought. He avoided a direct answer by laughing and making small talk with a startled group of passersby. In fact, the Soviets were taking over everywhere their tanks were parked. Poland was gone, and East Germany was occupied as was part of Austria. Hungary and Czechoslovakia were tottering, while Bulgaria and Romania were already solidly allied with Stalin. Only in Greece had the Reds been halted, and there appeared to be a curious situation developing in Yugoslavia as the Yugoslavs under Tito seemed to be marching to a different Communist drummer.

The reporter persisted, "Sir, what additional is going to be done to help Chiang?"

This one he could answer. "We are continuing to send him supplies. Short of sending him troops, which we are not in a position to do, there is little else that can be done. He's going to have to fight his battle himself."

The reporter nodded and took notes. Truman had intentionally confirmed the obvious- China was going Communist and there wasn't a damn thing anybody could do about it. Even the most aggravating of the congressmen in the China Lobby now accepted that fact, although their public pronouncements said otherwise.

"Mr. President, what about the rumors of Jap peace feelers? Is there anything to them?"

"No," he snapped. "There are no true peace feelers. Any so-called peace feelers are the same as before the Anami coup in August. That is, they are from well-intentioned Japanese civilians, mainly low-ranking diplomats who are stationed in Europe. They personally wish peace but have no control or influence over the actions of their military government."

Truman was personally convinced that most of the people in Japan were heartily sick of the war. If only they could be reached, he thought, but he was convinced it was hopeless. The Anami government controlled the military, and the military controlled Japan.

"Mr. President, when will we invade Honshu?"

Truman laughed heartily. The reporter flushed and grinned back. "Do you really expect me to answer that question?" Truman said.

"No, sir, but would you comment on the progress of the fighting on Kyushu?"

Truman paused again to shake a few hands. A tourist took his picture with a Kodak. "Any fighting is awful, and this is extremely hard, particularly since the war should have ended months ago. However, our boys are continuing to make progress."

"Do you anticipate a Japanese surrender?"

"We anticipated one last August. Remember, we had one in hand and Anami's thugs snatched it away."

A reporter half ran to get close by. Truman could see that the boy's face was flushed. The puppy wouldn't last more than a block or two. "Can you comment on the pressure from the Vatican to negotiate a peace rather than holding out for unconditional surrender?"

Now let's see who's paying attention, Truman thought. "We will never negotiate with the Anami government."

The reporter took quick notes. Truman looked behind him to where a couple of the more experienced reporters were looking at him quizzically. Yes, they knew that news was often made by what was not said, and the president of the United States had just not said a mouthful.

Before anybody could elaborate, the disorganized entourage turned onto Independence Avenue and were suddenly confronted by a group of several hundred women who blocked the road ahead. As the Secret Service tightened their protective cordon around Truman, he saw that many of the women were carrying signs and placards. END THE WAR NOW some said, while others read BRING OUR BOYS HOME or END THE KILLING TODAY. He was particularly stunned by one placard naming him as a murderer of American youth.

The women themselves looked nothing like the unwashed, hairy, and wild-eyed radicals who normally marched and protested whatever they felt was wrong with the world. These were all white women, middle class and well dressed, and many looked at him grimly. He could read expressions of anger, frustration, and, to his horror, contempt. He involuntarily recoiled from the depths of their passion while flashbulbs popped and photographers immortalized the event.