The story of Typhoon Louise is here.

More here. There was a second typhoon, as well.

If there had been no atom bombs and Tokyo had attempted to hold out for an extended time- a possibility that even bombing and blockade advocates granted- the Japanese would have immediately appreciated the impact of the storm in the waters around Okinawa. Moreover, they would know exactly what it meant for the follow-up invasion of Honshu, which they had predicted as accurately as the invasion of Kyushu. Even with the storm delay and friction of combat on Kyushu, the Coronet schedule would have led US engineers to perform virtual miracles to make up for lost time and implement Y-Day as early in April as possible. Unfortunately the Divine Winds packed a one-two punch.

On 4 April 1946, another typhoon raged in the Pacific, this one striking the northernmost Philippine island of Luzon on the following day where it inflicted only moderate damage before moving toward Taiwan. Coming almost a year after the war, it was of no particular concern. The Los Angeles Times gave it about a paragraph on the bottom of page 2. But if Japan had held out, this storm would have had profound effects on the world we live in today. It would have been the closest watched weather cell in history. Would the storm move to the west after hitting Luzon, the Army’s main staging area for Coronet, or would it take the normal spiraling turn to the north, and then northeast as the October typhoon? Would slow, shallow-draft landing craft be caught at sea or in the Philippines where loading operations would be put on hold? If they were already on their way to Japan, would they be able to reach Kyushu’s sheltered bay? And what about the breakwater caissons for the massive artificial harbor to be assembled near Tokyo? The construction of the harbor’s pre-fabricated components carried a priority second only to the atom bomb, and this precious towed cargo could not be allowed to fall victim to the storm and be scattered across the sea.

The result might have been an armistice.

There is a new biography of Marshall coming out this year I believe, by Josiah Bunting III, who also wrote a short biography of U.S. Grant.

Having recently read Andrew Roberts’s fascinating Masters and Commanders, as well as excerpts from Wedemeyer’s own writings and contemporary commentary thereon, I am not so sure about Wedemeyer. Yes, he was brilliant, but he was also prone to talking himself up (and publicly slamming Marshall–his patron–and Roosevelt).

For the last two years of the war he took no part in grand strategy, yet his “Wedemeyer Reports!” and his public statements post its publication gave the impression that he was in the wheelhouse throughout. The book’s pungent style and relatively early (1958) appearance (and the silence of more senior strategists like Marshall and Alanbrooke-the former never published a memoir and the latter’s diaries did not appear until 2001) gave his views a prominence disproportionate to his role in the war.

In the book, as well as lambasting every national leader and senior officer not named Albert C Wedemeyer, he deftly “corrected” views he himself had held during the war but now thought better of. Interestingly, he argued that the US should never have entered the war and that there should have been no attempt to invade Japan (or its surrounding islands) or end the war with nuclear weapons–Japan should have been allowed to fall “like a ripe fruit.”

He had a presciently dour view of communists of all stripes, yet ardently supported Operation Sledgehammer, an invasion of France whose sole objective was to support the Soviet war effort if it appeared on the brink of failure. The operation was called off for lack of support from Churchill and Marshall. Wedemeyer also showed a reflexive antipathy to all things British that I personally find rather distasteful.

Despite his hostility to communism, he maintained that Stalin was the only Allied (or at least non-Nazi) leader with any strategic nous, and that Churchill and Roosevelt were beguiled into supporting him (what he failed to mention was that so was Wedemeyer himself).

The fact that he repeatedly attempted to retire to private life when he was one of the most powerful public figures in the world, in both military and civilian ranks, places him on a level far above the grasping mediocrities we currently see in public life.

I have many times read stories of the unheralded brilliance and dedication of members of the armed forces, just as there are many instances of foolishness and rigidity of thought. The recent saga of Gen Patreaus, and his disgraceful mistreatment by certain elements of our polity, comes to mind.

The enormity of WW2 is such a cliche, and the youth of our society so poorly educated as to the circumstances and issues involved, that many stories such as this are simply lost in the clamor of triviality, celebrity worship, and tabloid journalism, all vying for what little attention span is left in the average person.

One of the pleasures of Drury’s “Advise and Consent” was the picture of Roosevelt near his end.

Maurer’s “Once an Eagle” has a nice picture of Marshall and the pre-war army. I need to read a biography of Marshall.

Colonel McCormack was quite a character. I even remember Westbrook Pegler’s Christmas card in which he had a photo of Eleanor Roosevelt inserted into his Christmas photo. It was an early example of what Photoshop does now.

“A small staff…” amazing, simply amazing (I ordered a used PB of this after skimming this post, so thanks.). I’m almost finished with Jim Storr’s The Human Face of War—Storr holds bureaucracies in low regard, and stresses the need for “workable” armies w/small staffs. I was amazed to read that the typical Western Divisional Commander is supported by no less than 600 people—that number is referenced to a document written in 98–so my guess the number is higher today.

One cultural handicap is that “thinking” has been delegated to staff—not just in the military, but in the political arena as well.

Thanks for a illustrative post..