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Happy Birthday Chiropractic, DoD and USAF

For some reason, this blog wasn’t finished before it posted. Sorry.

And today we have—18 September…let’s see…Chris Columbus on his fourth voyage to the New World (still not convinced it was a new world) landing on Costa Rica; the death of the Chancellor of Japan Toyotomi Hideyoshi in 1598, ending the Momoyama period of Japan and setting of a bitter struggle for supremacy that ended with the founding of the Tokugawa shogunate; the construction of the first spinet piano in Boston in 1769; the beginning of the battle of Chickamauga in Georgia in 1863; the publication of Huck Finn in 1885; the Great Fresno Drop, mailing out the first BankAmericards in 1958; the capture of Patty Hearst in San Francisco in 1975; and the first of the “anthrax letters” were mailed from Trenton, New Jersey in 2001.  Too, for some unaccountable reason, 18 September is National Cheeseburger Day, and National Aging/AIDS Awareness Day.  But today, we’re going to talk about bending bones, and national defense, and the airedales.

Chiropractic medicine (hey, it’s the only thing to call it) has been around, some say, since the Egyptians built the pyramids. And ever since the development of the practice of science-based medicine in the 19th century, folks have been calling chiropractic pseudo-scientific quackery.  The modern more-or-less science began roughly on 18 September 1895, when the Palmer School of Chiropractic opened in Davenport, Iowa.  At the time, those using chiropractic were inclined to treat it as a religion, which may have saved themselves a lot of trouble later on, but as future history would show, would have diminished its benefits to millions.

The reader must be aware that there are several “schools’ of chiropractic that are practiced worldwide, and in the US there are several that don’t call it “medicine” at all. It starts with the idea of subluxation, which is the practice of manipulating the spine and other joints into a “natural” position that, some say, makes for better overall health.  A few practitioners also hold that chiropractic can treat and cure any and all human ailments, and that vaccinations would be unnecessary if infants were treated at or near birth, and are consistently manipulated in their formative years.

Understand something: not all chiropractors are alike.  I’ve been using chiropractic for my aching joints for…well, a long time, anyway.  I’ve had several practitioners bend and twist my bones, in large part because I’ve used some for a time and as soon as they recommending chiropractic for allergy treatment, cancer, and even cavities in the teeth, I spend no more time with them.  My current practitioner and his wife have orthopedists on speed-dial, spend no time at all treating any patients without informed consent, and proudly show their vaccination scars.

There are several institutions teaching chiropractic, but every one has a different theory…generally. The Palmer method is the most common, the most widespread, and in my case the most effective.  As I understand it, Palmer-related treatments are those that have been most heavily studied, mostly approved by insurance companies (including Medicare and Medicaid), and is what the uniformed services allow their chiropractors to use since 2001.  While many skeptics still cry “pseudoscience” at the top of their lungs, I have never had a clinician declare it to be without at least some merit for some aches and pains.  I’ve had several MDs who also went to a Palmer School to learn what they had to teach about spinal positioning.

Today is also the birthday of the US Department of Defense, and the official and complete and total divorce of the US Army Air Forces from its parent, creating the US Air Force on this day in 1947.  The Air Force had been functionally separate since the late 1930s, and had representation at the executive level since the formation of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  The Department of Defense, furthermore, created separate service secretariats for each branch, thus adding hundreds if not thousands of patronage jobs.  Thus, if you ever feel the need to start draining the swamp in DC, start there by merging the services.  The Air Force has its own infantry (Base Emergency Engineering Forces, BEEFs); the Navy its own air force and infantry (and the Marines even have their own air force); the Army its own navy and air forces.  Why?

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Britain and the American Revolution now Available in Paperback

JDB Communications LLC is proud to announce the publication of Britain and the American Revolution, another collection of essays by John D. Beatty, author of The Devil’s Own Day: Shiloh and the American Civil War.

Most scholars—especially Americans—when writing about the American Revolution (also called the American War) emphasize the Western Hemisphere when considering the effects.  However, in this scribe’s opinion this view is short-sighted.  Great Britain, after all, is still around, and its Empire indeed flourished a century after it lost its then-largest and most prosperous colonies.  The Empire may have steadily degraded after Victoria’s diamond jubilee gala in 1897, but by the much-ballyhooed “Brexit” from the European Community in 2016, Britain herself was still a force to be reckoned with.

Recent writers, especially Steven Sears in The British Empire, have suggested that the British Empire was really nothing more than a jobs program for the English middle and upper classes.  In some ways, this is arguably true.  However trivial this may seem in the great scheme of things, it was also the largest single influence on human civilization between the fall of Rome and the triumph of the United States and the Soviet Union in 1945.  As these essays argue, this influence was in part because of the sheer genius of hard-pressed Britons to survive on their harsh, rocky islands.

“Changing the Great Game” is an exploration of how the concept of “rights” was grudgingly preserved by dynasty after dynasty ruling the British Isles.  Even if the Scots, Irish and other ethnic groups didn’t recognize it, the rights enjoyed by Englishmen that were unique to their legal system did rub off on them as well, if only in small doses from time to time.  The ancient legends of Arthur, Alfred and the rest of the traditional lawgivers may have been perfected in the 19th century, but their origins are clearly much older.  The legal tradition that no sovereign is above his own laws far predate the Normans.

“Kings, Kin and Killers” is something of an experiment.  Steven Pincus in 1688: The First Modern Revolution talks extensively about the motives of the supporters of the Stuarts and those who…well, did not support the monarch.  They hadn’t yet expressed a desire to throw out the monarchy as they would later, but the non-supporters of the Stuart kings were far more interested in the power of capital than that of land.  Their arguments were eerily similar to those that would take place in America before the shooting started in 1861.  It is almost certain that many of the philosophical animosities in English society between country and town, between farm and workshop, were locked into American society after the Revolution, and hung on in animus for another three generations.

“The Limits of Empire” is explicitly that: an essay into the administrative and technical limitations of imperial administration in the late 18th century.  Law, trade, finance, and community administration all depended on communications, and there was simply no good or reliable way to improve trans-Atlantic communications in the 1770s such that the Revolution, or one like it, could be put down.  Even if India were to become the most prosperous of all of Britain’s imperial properties, it wasn’t yet.  If the Gandhi revolution had come two centuries earlier, by that remove it may have succeeded much faster.

“Copper-Bottomed Wizardry” began as a challenge—a sort of a bet.  This writer was wagered that he could not find enough technological innovation between 1775 and 1805 to explain how Britain defeated France at Trafalgar.  Knowing that coppering became standard by 1783, the research started there and produced this essay.  The carronade, the short-barreled “smasher” that was the terror of small-vessel warfare before the shell gun, was intentionally left out because of other innovations that made British ships not only reliable and easier to handle, but overall better vessels.  Any sailor can tell you that, pound for pound, any well-handled warship in peacetime is worth three that are better gunned.  In wartime, it’s how well the guns are laid and how long they can stay on station, not just how well they can blast a target.

Four essays are hardly a working thesis, but they may point to one: Britain was strengthened by the conflict that resulted in the loss of her thirteen colonies that would eventually become the United States.  Both she and the United States, ultimately, resolved the last of a conflict in Anglo-Saxon society that had raged since the Tudors: Do governments have a right to rule, or a duty?  Is society the master of an economic structure, or a servant or product of it?

Let these essays inform the reader’s viewpoint. Available in paperbound and PDF at The Book Patch. Personally autographed copies will be available at JDBCOM.COM soon.

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Miss America on TV and Patriot Day

Well, here it is, another September 11th.  Most of us remember where we were and what we were doing on that particular day in 2001, so I won’t belabor it–yet.  But, there were other events on 11 September in other years, like the battle of Stirling Bridge in 1287 made famous by Mel Gibson’s Braveheart; the beginning of the battle of Brandywine in 1777; the end of the Plattsburgh battle in 1779; the appointment of Alexander Hamilton as Secretary of the Treasury in 1789; the patenting of the mail chute in 1883; and the beginning of the building of the Pentagon in 1941.  But today, we talk about beautiful women on television and tragedies on beautiful days.

Though it is the best known of many, Miss America wasn’t the first of its kind: the first beauty pageant was held in Scotland in 1839; showman PT Barnum staged another contest in 1859 that was shut down after protests over their degradation of public morals–a common theme against Barnum at the time. There were many in the 19th century, especially in America, but none were recurring.

The Miss America pageant started out as a publicity stunt on 25 September 1920, intended to bring business to the Atlantic City Boardwalk. There was no real competition, just a bunch of beautiful girls pushed around in chairs on wheels.  The next year, after the enthusiastic reception and increased traffic, the pageant became an annual event in Atlantic City.  Other milestones include:

  • 1933,  the youngest Miss America, 15-year-old Marion Bergeron, won the contest.
  • 1944, the compensation switched from furs and movie contracts to a college scholarship.
  • 11 September 1954, Evelyn Ayr (above) was crowned for the first time on live TV.
  • 1971, Cheryl Browne was the first African-American to compete.
  • 1984, Vanessa Williams was the first African-American woman to win.  Williams was also the first asked to resign for posing in Penthouse.
  • 2014, Nina Davuluri was the first Indian-American woman to win the crown.

Some of the winners have gone on to fame and fortune in Hollywood and other entertainment industries, but most finish their rounds of publicity, take their scholarships and sink back into obscurity.  The pageant/scholarship program has been under fire for most of its history for being “out of step” with… something.  It is also criticized for exalting body types that are unachievable without great sacrifice and potential damage to a woman’s health.  While the last may be true, I don’t believe the pageant has ever held itself out as anything other than a way for women to win scholarships, and for businesses to make money on advertising.   Women compete of their own free will, and people watch of their own free will.

There’s a great deal that could be said about 9/11, but what I recall most vividly was not the planes crashing into buildings, but what headlines quickly disappeared.

  • Some overrated interchangeable blonde starlet published an autobiography that stated that she was at one time possessed by space aliens.
  • Some congressman was suspected of killing a female intern with whom he may or may not have had an affair, a crime that was later was pinned on some other poor schmuck.
  • Someone started another petition to recount ballots in Florida from the 2000 election after the last recount indicated that GW Bush’s margin of victory there was larger than initially thought.

Watching the carnage in New York and Arlington on a spectacularly gorgeous Tuesday in southeastern Wisconsin was like watching a bad movie…another one that blew up buildings for no apparent reason.  But Shanksville, Pennsylvania, that was different.  According to everything we know, United Airlines Flight 93 out of Newark destined for San Francisco was hijacked by four men and diverted to…this is where it gets fuzzy. Popular wisdom says the hijacker’s target was the White House, but it is just as likely that the target was the Capital, which would have been in the same area, or another, double hit on the Pentagon, which would make military sense.

In 2013 my wife and I were headed to Washington to pick up my MA in history, and happened to stop for the night in Pennsylvania.  On the way to the motel I saw a sign that said “Flight 93 Memorial 16 Miles.” OK, we decide, we’ve got a few hours to spare tomorrow.  We’ll have a look.  So we follow the signs (there are none on the turnpike, and most of the pointers are very small) down very rural hardball roads to the memorial, which is at an old open-pit mine that was closed when Flight 93 crashed.

Shanksville, Pennsylvania is little more than a wide spot in a two-lane road, literally, and its two miles from the crash site.   It may have been more prosperous before the mine closed, but by the time we saw it, but in the spring of 2013 there just wasn’t much there.  As we went through the Flight 93 Memorial, I couldn’t help but think that the army of investigators that descended on Stonycreek Township would have overwhelmed the public facilities there very quickly. And so I walked the concrete walkways of the Classroom Without Walls (as NPS bills it), looked at the pictures of the victims/heroes, looked into the actual crash site (the memorial is next to it; the crash site itself is still treated as a crime scene), then thought about one of the pictures.  Then I looked again.

Maybe, I thought.  Maybe.  One of the passengers on Flight 93 looked more than vaguely familiar.  And the name.  I looked it up later…no, not him.  Resembled a guy I served with in the Army in Florida in the ’70s.  Name was similar, too.  But, no. Still, might have been sad and at the same time good to have known that one of my old comrades did his duty…we’re not relieved of our oaths at discharge, ya know.

Patriot Day was first observed in 2002. Now, to add to the confusion of 9/11, there’s a Patriot’s Day observed in the Boston area on the third Monday in April. But that one’s been around for decades. 9/11 isn’t a federal holiday; no offices are closed except the Flight 93 Memorial from 9 to noon.  But if you ever get the chance, you should go.  There’s something noble about citizens taking their implicit duty to protect and defend seriously enough to sacrifice themselves like that.  That deserves a look, and some contemplation.

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Wake Ends and National Newspaper Carrier Day

The 4th of September is remarkable for a number of things, among them being the end of the Western Roman Empire in 476 CE when Romulus Augustus abdicated at Ravenna; the founding of Los Angeles in 1781; and the Yugo prototype known as the Ford Edsel first hit the showrooms like a brick in 1959.  But today, we talk about the end of Wake Island’s drama, and news kids.

The fighting for Wake Island was something of a sensation in the dark days of December 1941.  On the morning of 8 December Japanese planes out of the Marianas (probably Saipan) bombed the island, destroying 8 of 12 defending fighters.  Air raids continued until 11 December, when the first landing attempt was decisively thwarted by the outnumbered Marines and civilians on the island, which sank the first Japanese warships of the Pacific War.  The garrison’s message, “Send Us More Japs” (actually message padding that was put together in Hawaii and released to the newspapers) was repeated in every headline in every newspaper across America, the only good war news in a dismal month.

But defiant Wake Island was too close to too many Japanese bases, including the Marianas. the Marshalls and the Carolines to be allowed to just hang around.  A second invasion force on 23 December overran the island defences after about twelve hours of bitter and brutal fighting. The Japanese suffered something over a thousand casualties; the Americans had something around 150 military and civilian killed and wounded, and some 1500 were captured.

But there was worse yet to come.  Most of the prisoners were removed to mainland Asia, but nearly a hundred American civilians were kept on the island for forced labor.  Fearing imminent invasion, the Japanese built up the island’s defenses, but the Americans chose not to go back to Wake, instead imposing a submarine blockade and using it as a sort of a bombing range.  From February 1942 to the end of the war Wake was irregularly raided by Navy carrier aircraft and by Army bombers. After one raid on 5 October 1943, Sakaibara Shigematsu, the island’s commander, ordered the prisoners killed.  One forever-anonymous prisoner escaped the machine-gunning and wrote “98 PW 5-10-43” on a coral rock near the mass grave.  The memorialist was captured and personally beheaded by Sakaibara.

The US blockade caused severe food shortages on Wake soon after it was implemented, causing the Japanese and their captives to hunt the Wake Island Rail (a small bird found only on the Wake Atoll) to extinction by 1945.  On 4 September 1945, a detachment of the 4th Marines under the command of Lawson Sanderson landed on Wake and took the remaining Japanese prisoner. Sakaibara was hanged for war crimes on 18 June 1947.

Also on 4 September in 1833, Barney Flaherty was hired to carry (or hawk; the record is unclear) the New York Sun newspaper.  News-kids, often boys but also girls, was for generations the first paying job teens could have.  Paid circulation/home delivery of newspapers has an unclear origin, but Barney was probably not a corner hawker because they had been around for some time before 1833.  In any event, the news-kid is something of a thing of the past now, though not entirely extinct.  Physical paper circulation had fallen dramatically since the internet took over in the early 21st century, and these days home delivery is likely to be done by a regular adult employee.  Still, in those bygone days that I can still recall…ah, you get it.  If you’ve still got a paper-kid, give him/her a bigger tip this week because 4 September is National Newspaper Carrier Day; International Newspaper Carrier Day is the first Saturday in the first full week in October.  I didn’t make that up.

Today, the first Monday in September, is Labor Day in the United States, the traditional End of Summer, though it’s supposed to be the day that we recognize the value of organized labor to the workforce.  WIth union membership dwindling worldwide, that seems a stretch, but there was a time when those of us who have toiled for others would have worked six and a half days a week and 12 hours a day and barely be able to keep the lights on.  Admittedly, it was a lot cheaper to keep those candles burning than it does to run the LEDs…no, actually it doesn’t.

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The Occupation of Japan Begins and Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day

So, today, 28 August.  Lots of momentous stuff, like the beginning of the American invasion of Quebec in 1775, the birth of Charles Rolls in 1877, the German naval disaster against the British at the Heligoland Bight in 1914, Martin Luther King delivered his “I have a dream” speech in Washington in 1963, the “Battle of Chicago” between police and Vietnam war protesters broke out in 1968, and Charles and Diana officially called it quits in 1996.  But on this date in 1945, the world held its breath as the first Americans–Navy and Marines from Task Force 31, and Army paratroopers from the 11th Airborne Division–landed on the Japanese home islands.

Japan had announced its intention to surrender, and a delegation of senior Japanese officials had flown to Manila and returned with details on the occupation, the surrender itself, and had hammered out a timetable for the events, but no one was quite sure what was to come once the Americans actually started to land.  Even though the Japanese the negotiators who pinpointed every ship, every Army unit, and every major armory in Japan, they were still concerned that the initial date of 25 August was too soon.  There were still Shishi–young men of purpose–in the Army who were plotting to continue the war at whatever the cost.  In the event, a typhoon prevented the Americans from arriving on that day, and the date was reset to 28 August, though Japanese officials pleaded for another week to cool or neutralize the hotheads.  Nothing doing: the American would land on the 28th.

The leading elements of the American occupation arrived in the early morning hours of 28 August at the Atsugi airfield outside Tokyo.  First, a train of forty-five C-47 cargo planes landed two hours early.  Led by Charles Tench of Douglas MacArthur’s staff, the Skytrains were packed with nervous paratroopers, communications gear, and a small hospital unit.  Seizo Arisue commanding the men who guarded the airfield against the Shishi that lurked within miles, if not yards, scrambled to receive their “guests.” But the opening SNAFU of the day was spectacular in a much different way that restarting the war: the lead C-47 pilot misread the wind marker and landed in the wrong direction, putting the reception committee on the wrong end of the field.  “Just how in the hell does one begin an occupation,” Tench later remembered as he watched the Japanese hastily approaching his airplane.

“Just how in the hell does one begin an occupation?” — Charles Tench

Near the same time, the Atlanta class light cruiser USS San Diego (CL53), the flagship of Oscar C Badger who was commanding Task Force 31, entered Tokyo Bay leading the minesweepers and other combat elements of TF 31.  The task force included USS Missouri (BB-63), at least nine destroyers, and an amphibious task force carrying the 4th Marines, who would land on the Tokyo waterfront on 30 August, liberating the POW camp at Omari in the process.  The Marines would save a young American with a hot appendix that the Japanese could not treat. When the Japanese prison camp commandant opined that he had no authority to release his prisoners, Harold Stassen, William Halsey’s assistant chief of staff who was in charge of repatriating the American POWs and would later run for president, kicked the general in the posterior and growled “You have no authority, period.”

“You have no authority, period” — Harold Stassen

Despite a great deal of tension, fear and suspicion in Japan and amogh the allies as they arrived, the occupation and the surrender ceremonies would come off without a significant hitch.

Today, 28 August, ironically given the circumstances, is also Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day, a day that Deborah Barnes founded in 2015 in memory of one of her many feline friends. Since then, 28 August has become something of a minor sensation in social media, spawning tributes to our furry, finny, feathery, scaley and other -y friends that have gone to their rewards.  Having lost five gerbils, four dogs, three cats and a spider myself, I get it. So today, spend some extra time with your family pets, and unless they’re tarantulas or fish, they’ll appreciate it.  If they are all gone, give an hour or two to your local animal shelter. Are there no Fish Whisperers out there?

Are there no Fish Whisperers out there?

For those of you who follow this blog on a regular basis, welcome back.  For the rest, thanks for stopping by; hope you come back next week. For everyone, there’s going to be some design changes over the next few months. Hopefully it will help me to streamline my business communications, consolidating everything on one WordPress site.  Stay tuned…

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Laura Baugh and National Senior Citizen’s Day

The twenty-first day of August marks a number of auspicious, famous and infamous events.  The Nat Turner slave revolt began in Virginia in 1831;  the Lawrence, Kansas massacre was perpetrated in 1863, the Olds Motor Works was founded in Lansing, Michigan in 1897; Hawaii became the 50th state in 1959; and in 1991 the attempted coup against the government of Mikhail Gorbachev collapsed in Moscow.

So, today, I’m gonna talk about…golf, about which I know nearly nothing other than I can’t play it.  My hands, you see…can’t hold anything that long, and of course my neck…doesn’t move that way anymore.  But, I appreciate accomplishment when I see it.

Laura Baugh was born in 1955, and was introduced to the game early by her father, Hale Baugh, a gifted amateur in his own right.  While I was hanging around truck and car shops, Laura won the National Peewee Golf Championship (under eighteen) five times, and the Los Angeles Women’s City Golf Championship (the first at fourteen). On 21 August 1971 Baugh was sixteen (and so was I), and won the US Women’s Amateur Tournament, the youngest woman up to then to have won that particular honor (and I was portering used trucks in Detroit).

Laura Baugh turned down college scholarships and turned pro at eighteen.  She made a good living and was Rookie of the Year in 1973, but never won an LPGA Tournament.  She turned instead to alcohol until about 1996, wrote an autobiography in 1999, bore seven children, and at this writing is 62 and an announcer for The Golf Channel.

I think I’m an underachiever: I’ve only written ten books, finished two degrees, did a quarter century in the Army and earned two college degrees.  But, I digress…

Today is also National Senior Citizen’s Day in the US, signed into commemorative law by Ronald Reagan in 1988, when he himself was 77.  Now, the term “Senior Citizen” has come to mean different things to a lot of different people: AARP allows members as young as 55 (and will they ever stop sending me stuff); our favorite movie theater says “senior” is 62 for tickets, seating and parking; our favorite restaurant says “well, if your wait-person thinks so”; and of course most insurance companies start the “senior” clock at 60.  But if you don’t play golf, and you’re not considered “senior” at your favorite watering hole, eatery or anywhere else, you’ll have to spend the day not commemorating anything at all today.  But if you know a “senior” or two take some time to do something nice for them.  Just remember: old age and treachery always beats youth and a bad haircut…unless you’re up against Laura Baugh in 1971.

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Ending a Nightmare

14 August marks quite a few ironies.  It was the day in 1791 that the slave revolt in Santo Domingo began, and the date in 1852 when the Second Seminole War ended in Florida.  And, in 1281, it was the day that the second divine wind–kamikaze–in the Straits of Korea wrecked much of a Mongol fleet that was headed for Japan.  And, in 1941, it was the day that the Atlantic Charter was announced after reporters found FDR and Churchill hugger-muggering in Newfoundland while the US was still neutral.  But much of the world would remember the 15 August 1945 radio broadcast that was recorded the day before: the Showa Emperor Hirohito of Japan recorded the Jewel Voice Broadcast of his Imperial Rescript on the Termination of the War on 14 August 1945.

The actual date of the recording is in some dispute, but the timing and the seal imprint is dated the 14th.  The Rescript ended not just World War Two in the Pacific and East Asia, but it also ended the power of the latter-day bakufu–military government–that had dominated Japan since 1941.

The quotes in the rest of this missive are from the Rescript as it appears on WIkipedia in the entry for the Jewel Voice Broadcast.  The blather in between is from the research that Lee Rochwerger and I are doing on Why the Samurai Lost, a retooling of our original What Were They Thinking?

TO OUR GOOD AND LOYAL SUBJECTS:

After pondering deeply the general trends of the world and the actual conditions obtaining in our empire today, We have decided to effect a settlement of the present situation by resorting to an extraordinary measure.

This was the first time that 99.9 percent of Japan, and 99.999% of the entire world would hear the voice of Hirohito, the Showa Emperor of Japan.  The reasons for creating a recording and not doing it live were several, but the most important was that the powers behind the throne–collectively, the jushin–felt it important that a recording of his actual intent be made available just in case the Americans struck again.

We have ordered our government to communicate to the governments of the United States, Great Britain, China and the Soviet Union that our empire accepts the provisions of their joint declaration.

He refers here to the Potsdam Declaration of 26 July 1945 that, only at the end of the Declaration, is the phrase “unconditional surrender” used. The Potsdam Declaration was an official rejection of the unofficial “peace” feelers–actually offering nothing more than an armistice in place with no authority from Tokyo–that had been floating around Europe since the summer of 1944. The Potsdam Declaration did not assure the imperial polity, but that was agreed to during negotiations that started 10 August, when the Japanese embassy in Switzerland informed the Americans and British that Potsdam would be accepted if the Imperial polity would be maintained.  The Rescript, therefore, isn’t a formal surrender, but the announcement to the world that Japan would stop fighting.

To strive for the common prosperity and happiness of all nations as well as the security and well-being of our subjects is the solemn obligation which has been handed down by our imperial ancestors and which lies close to our heart.

In this passage, the Showa is calling upon his duty–as he saw it–to keep Japan from becoming extinct, which he finally realized was a possibility after the Soviets declared war on 9 August. In the all-out fight in the Home Islands that the Army and Navy were planning  against the Soviet and American invasions that would come that fall, it was planned to turn every square inch of Japan and the surrounding waters into an abattoir.

Indeed, we declared war on America and Britain out of our sincere desire to ensure Japan’s self-preservation and the stabilization of East Asia, it being far from our thought either to infringe upon the sovereignty of other nations or to embark upon territorial aggrandizement.

He’s speaking from a victim’s standpoint, but Japan was in serious economic straits, and had been since 1920.  Not to excuse the war and Japan’s aggression, but Japan went to war in 1931, 1937 and 1941 because they desperately needed raw materials and fuel just to keep the entire economy, not just the military, going.  Japan had been a feudal, agrarian country that had an industrial impetus with a parliamentary democracy thrust on it less than a century before, and they could barely afford to feed their burgeoning population, let alone continue to build a modern industrial state.

But now the war has lasted for nearly four years. Despite the best that has been done by everyone – the gallant fighting of the military and naval forces, the diligence and assiduity of our servants of the state, and the devoted service of our one hundred million people – the war situation has developed not necessarily to Japan’s advantage, while the general trends of the world have all turned against her interest.

Japan had lost something like 2.7 million people in the wars between 1931 and 1945. Over forty countries eventually declared war on Japan: the last, Mongolia, on 9 August.

The phrase “…not necessarily to Japan’s advantage” was as close as he could come to “Japan has been beaten like a red-headed step-child and will not rise again.”

“Our hundred million” was a common theme in Japan starting in the 1930’s, but by 1941 there were only about 72 million Japanese in the archipelago and its possessions from the Ryukyus and the Bonins to the Marianas and Manchuria.

Moreover, the enemy has begun to employ a new and most cruel bomb, the power of which to do damage is, indeed, incalculable, taking the toll of many innocent lives. Should we continue to fight, not only would it result in an ultimate collapse and obliteration of the Japanese nation, but also it would lead to the total extinction of human civilization.

Yes, he is acknowledging that the A-bomb had an influence on his decision, but again, he had decided that the war had to end as early as March 1945, but for reasons outlined below he couldn’t have done this that early.

What he wanted to do was save his country from annihilation from all causes–bloody great bombs, starvation, useless sacrifice and direct combat.  The Japanese Army believed that wearing light-colored clothing would save many from the effects of the flash and heat of nuclear weapons.  But, it may have been this very idea, announced in the last Imperial Conference on 9 August, that pushed the Showa over the edge, that made him instruct the government to accept the Potsdam terms, and to endorse the Marquis Kido’s idea of a Rescript and make this recording.  It was clear that Japan’s military leadership did not want to end the war, so he knew that he had to.

Such being the case, how are we to save the millions of our subjects, or to atone ourselves before the hallowed spirits of our imperial ancestors? This is the reason why we have ordered the acceptance of the provisions of the joint declaration of the powers.

What’s important here is that the Showa Emperor, like his grandfather the Meiji Emperor had in 1867, had taken direct charge of the country.  That it was necessary for him to do this is a real long story…just buy our new book when it comes out.

We cannot but express the deepest sense of regret to our allied nations of East Asia, who have consistently cooperated with the Empire towards the emancipation of East Asia.

The thought of those officers and men as well as others who have fallen in the fields of battle, those who died at their posts of duty, or those who met with untimely death and all their bereaved families, pains our heart night and day.

The welfare of the wounded and the war-sufferers, and of those who have lost their homes and livelihood, are the objects of our profound solicitude.

The hardships and sufferings to which our nation is to be subjected hereafter will be certainly great. We are keenly aware of the inmost feelings of all of you, our subjects. However, it is according to the dictates of time and fate that We have resolved to pave the way for a grand peace for all the generations to come by enduring the unendurable and suffering what is unsufferable.

The Showa is being absolutely sincere .  After viewing the damage done by the B-29 fire raids in Tokyo in March and April of 1945, he had become convinced that the war had to end or his people would suffer even more.  But there were young men who stalked the halls of government and the barracks who would kill anyone who would wish to get some common sense and stop the fighting.  These officers believed in the tradition of Gekokujo, roughly meaning “the lower shall rule the higher,” among other translations.  This was a centuries-old tradition in Japan that refused to die, that inspired the assassinations that exhausted and frightened the civil government in the 1930s, and that triggered the incidents that led up to the China War.  The “unendurable” and the “unsufferable” here are to stop these Shishi–young men of purpose–from fighting and acquiesce to whatever comes next.

Having been able to safeguard and maintain the Kokutai, We are always with you, our good and loyal subjects, relying upon your sincerity and integrity.

Kokutai can mean a lot of different things (click the link), but for his purposes it means “national polity.”  It was an 18th century term/concept that caused a great deal of trouble in prewar Japan because of its different interpretations.

Beware most strictly of any outbursts of emotion which may engender needless complications, or any fraternal contention and strife which may create confusion, lead you astray and cause you to lose the confidence of the world.

Let the entire nation continue as one family from generation to generation, ever firm in its faith in the imperishability of its sacred land, and mindful of its heavy burden of responsibility, and of the long road before it.

Unite your total strength, to be devoted to construction for the future. Cultivate the ways of rectitude, foster nobility of spirit, and work with resolution – so that you may enhance the innate glory of the imperial state and keep pace with the progress of the world.

Here the Showa is sincerely begging his people–Shishi included–to have courage in the days and years to come: occupation was certain, as humiliating as that would be.  The record is clear that by the time he made this recording the Showa no longer cared what happened to him personally, but he cared deeply about what happened to everyone else.  There were at least four attempts on his life by Japanese officers between 9 August and the time the recording was made in the wee hours of 14 August, and one attempt to destroy the recordings.

In all the above, I urge the reader to find the word “surrender” in any of the quotations.  This is the complete text: look it up for yourself.

The next day, when the cease-fire actually started, would be VJ Day in most of the world.  But today, we need to celebrate the fact that this frail, timid man realized that the only way to save his people was to take charge, to tell his subordinates that they were, indeed, subordinates, and tell the entire world that, like Chief Joseph, Japan would fight no more, forever.

So, to honor this auspicious day, do like Edith Shaine and Glenn McDuffie above at Times Square when they heard the news, and kiss someone with genuine relief, or joy failing that.  Just make that sure that, whoever your participant happens to be, unlike Glenn before he grabbed Edith, you know who they are before you do the smooching so that you don’t get bit, slapped or accused of sexual assault decades later.

 

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Essays on the American Civil War Now Available in Paperback and PDF

JDB Communications, LLC, is pleased to announce the availability of a new edition of Essays on the American Civil War by John D. Beatty in paperback and PDF at The Book Patch, while the first edition in Kindle will still be available for a limited time.  From the Introduction:

The American Civil War (even the way it is written: always capital “C,” capital “W”) sits isolated in a pristine crystal dome of American history, separate from all other events.  There are certain ways to write about it that make it acceptable to Civil War scholars and their audiences, and these rules must be observed else the offending material will be relegated to the isle of broken essays.

As the “Forlorn Hope” essay explains, American treatment of the 1861-65 conflict is always an exception to every rule of writing history, and American writers at all levels treat it as their private preserve.  Parallels with any other conflict are impossible for many Civil War buffs and not a few scholars, as are ties with any other non-American conflict.  Suggestions that the economic and political issues not related to slavery were eerily similar to those surfacing during the Tudor and Stuart periods in England—and may actually be connected—were dismissed with derision, ridicule, and often, suggestions of racism on those heretics with such insolent ideas.

How casualties were created should be a no-brainer, but as “The Butcher’s Bill” explains, for 19th century warfare that just ain’t so.  The mechanics of cavalry, too, should be obvious, but as “Cavalry in Blue and Gray” shows, it’s a lot harder when there was no real need for it in its wartime form before the war.

The distinct and contrarian position in some of these essays is unacceptable to “mainstream” Civil War scholarship: Civil War battlefield presentation isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, as “Of Parks and Excuses” explains; the Southern Confederacy, always a “Forlorn Hope,” could not have gotten what she wanted by military means.  Grant and Lee’s legacy to history is both more and less than many want to think, as “Bigger than History” explains.

Finally, “The Turning Point” and “The Unknown Gettysburg” are, again, my attempts at jousting with the immortal dragon that is Gettysburg. That one fight in Pennsylvania has so much emotional baggage attached to it that…well, it’s a tempting target.

Essays on the American Civil War retails at $4.99 in paperback, $1.99 in PDF exclusively at The Book Patch.

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Operation WATCHTOWER and National Lighthouse Day

Yeah, I know…running late.  Sue me.

So, 7 August marks a number of auspicious events, among them being the creation of the Order of the Purple Heart in 1782 (making 7 August Purple Heart Day), the US War Department in 1789,  the patenting of the revolving door in 1888, the beginning of the Battle of the French Frontiers in 1914, and the passing of the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution in 1964.  But today, we talk about Guadalcanal, and lighthouses.

The exgenesis of what would become the Guadalcanal campaign of WWII is shrouded less in mystery than in myth.  Yes, the big island at the far eastern end of the Solomons Islands chain had a central plain large enough to support an airstrip, but that’s not why the Japanese went there: that’s why the Americans went there.  The Japanese were more interested in Tulagi, the smaller island to the north of Guadalcanal that had a longer, deeper beach that could support a seaplane base: the strip they started on Guadalcanal that so alarmed the Australians was to be for fighters to protect the seaplane base.  Japan wanted a seaplane base from which they could control the waters on the northern side of the Coral Sea and around New Zealand and New Caledonia, further isolating Australia; the Americans wanted to prevent both from happening, to build an airfield from which they could control those same waters, and as a starting point in the isolation of not only Rabaul but the Marshall Islands.

So was born Operation WATCHTOWER (colloquially, as Operation “Shoestring” for the meager support it got in the early months), the naval/ground/air operation in the eastern Solomons Islands that ran from the Marine landings on 7 August 1942  to 9 February 1943 when the Americans declared the island secure. Guadalcanal, in Navy/Marine parlance, was Task One for the South Pacific, and in many respects it was the most important single operation for both the Americans and their allies and for Japan.  Control  of the Eastern Solomons by either side meant control of the waters around eastern Australia, the springboard for the southern Pacific offensive. against Japan.  But too, it was the first test of Japanese resilience in the face of an Allied counter-offensive, of their ability to control events far from Japanese waters, and without strategic initiative.  As the end of the Guadalcanal offensive showed, Japan’s ability to outlast the Allies was wanting.  It was the first major chink in Japan’s island cordon.

The Guadalcanal campaign is well-covered by several authors, but for my money the best is The Guadalcanal Campaign by Richard Frank.  His dynamic, nearly day-by-day account of the three-month long campaign best covers both American and Japanese problems, but the one Japanese issue that Frank does not cover is the increasing desperation not of the senior commanders or even the common soldiers, but of the ever-increasing weariness of the overworked aircrews and their mechanics, which is best described in Okumiya Masatake’s Zero!. 

As some of you know, my co-author. Lee Rochwerger, and I have been working on a…retooling…of our What Were They Thinking: A Fresh Look at Japan at War (Merriam Press 2009) book.  The new version, Why the Samurai Lost, will be bigger and better, with maps and tables that the first version lacked, and more information on the infighting between the Japanese Army and Navy.  Expect to see Why the Samurai Lost at the end of 2018.  Of which, more later.

On 7 August 1789 the US Congress approved an act for the support of “Lighthouses, Beacons, Buoys and Publik Piers” that marked the beginning of what would become the Lighthouse Service, which would be eventually be rolled into the Coast Guard. Two hundred years later, Congress passed a commemorative bill designating 7 August as National Lighthouse Day.

Sometime in the 1960s, the Coast Guard determined that the older the lighthouse, the more costly it would be to knock down because of their stout construction. As of the 1980s, all of these innocuous structures that dot the coastlines of every major body of water in the US  have been automated, many shut down and abandoned. The Lighthouse Preservation Society is dedicated to keeping at least some of these landmarks as monuments, museums, or other repurposed function. For those of you who live on or near the Great Lakes or one of the three major coastlines of the US, have a look at those old brick piles with the big light domes and remember: it’s likely at least one of you had some friend or relative that counted on that light to keep from being wrecked on some rock or shoal.

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Ruminations on History and Warfare Available in Paperback and PDF

JDB Communications, LLC is proud to announce the publication of Ruminations on History and Warfare: Musings of a Soldier/Scholar by John D. Beatty, a combination of Ruminations on War and On Future War previously only available as Kindle Editions.  From the Author’s Introduction:

After reading, studying and thinking about history in general and military history in particular for going on half a century, I have come to believe that I have something to say about it…in general terms, anyway.  These essays were initially produced in an academic environment, but they are being repurposed to express some of my thoughts and feelings on several subjects about the past and the future of war and warfare. If you’re looking for homework-solving pithiness, forget it: I took out the footnotes.

Some of these essays are an attempt to make some sense of the most fashionable trends, fads and fancies of American historians and soothsayers in the early 21st century.

Seers of the future are an especially special breed of thinkers, and they already know it.  What makes them annoying, however, is their irritating propensity for mistaking wit for brilliance.  Case in point is the famous Albert Einstein quote:

I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.

There’s several versions of this quotation that first appeared in Liberal Judaism in 1949, and it may indeed have not even been original then, or even original to Einstein.  But what those who depend on this quotation as a cudgel for disarmament forget that even Einstein missed the ironic point: After humankind blows itself into the Stone Age, they will still be fighting.

Finally, there’s the constant refrain: War is not the answer. But that, of course, depends on what the question is.

Ruminations on History and Warfare is available from The Book Patch, paper $3.99, PDF $1.99.

 

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George H. Thomas, Andrew Johnson, and National Mutt Day

Oh, I know what you’re thinking: OK, you delusional clown, what could possibly associate these three?  And what, in the name of heaven, can you ever think that the last day in July wouldn’t have more topical or interesting events than…these?  Well, I reply casually, Columbus did land on Trinidad on this day in 1498, and Ignatius of Loyola–founder of the Jesuits–died on this day in Rome in 1556.  Then there’s Third Ypres in Flanders in 1917, and there’s Jimmy Hoffa’s last sighting in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan at the Fox & Hounds (which closed its doors exactly thirty years later) in 1976.  But today we talk about the American Civil War, and dogs.

George Henry Thomas, old Slow Trot, the Rock of Chickamauga, was born on 31 July 1816 to a slave-owning family in Southampton County, Virginia. As a young man, he and his family had to hide out in the forest during the Nat Turner rebellion in 1931. Before joining the Army, his thoughts on slavery as an institution are unknown, but legends abound about his position on the Peculiar Institution before the war.  Thomas fought in Mexico and Florida, and won steady promotion until the Civil War.  Though he did not “go south” as many of his colleagues did, the Army didn’t trust Southern-born officers.  Because he didn’t “go south, Thomas’s family never spoke to him again.

For the entirety of the war, Thomas served the Union with distinction, winning more fights than any other Union general, and more than most Confederates.  At Chickamauga in September 1863 he held his position on Horseshoe Ridge that the rest of William S. Rosecrans’ broken army could (and did) rally around, turning what could have been a disaster into a mere defeat.  Thomas and his staff did yeoman duty during William Sherman’s Atlanta campaign the next year. Outside of Atlanta, John B. Hood’s attack at Peachtree Creek in July 1864 broke against Thomas’s stalwart defense.  That same winter, when Hood tried to lure Sherman away from Georgia, Thomas instead raced Hood north, defeating him at Franklin in November, and crushing him at Nashville in December.

After the war, President Johnson offered Thomas Grant’s three stars (while Grant got four), but Thomas declined.  Assigned to command the Department of the Pacific by President Grant in 1869, Thomas died after a stroke in San Francisco in 1870.  Though he was memorialized by his colleagues after his death, not many of them, including Grant and Sherman, seem to have liked him very much. Thomas is buried in New York, and not a single family member attended his funeral.

Andrew Johnson was born in Raleigh, North Carolina in December 1808.  Trained as a tailor, Johnson settled in Tennessee as a young man and entered local politics. His meteoric rise from alterman to mayor to the Tennessee House, the US Congress, the Governor’s mansion and the White House is the stuff of legend for someone who was never trained in the law, and never saw the inside of a university classroom.  Johnson is a member of the small club of American professional politicians who was not also a lawyer.

His tenure as president was the most controversial, and began with his swearing in while in wine (but it would have been hard to expect him to have been sober expecting not to be required for anything by Lincoln). Johnson, like Lincoln, wanted a quick reconstruction of the country after the Civil War while the Congress wanted to punish the South.  Neither side got their way, really, but in the meantime the former slaves were left with little in the way of protection.  For his staunch perfidy Johnson was impeached by the House but was acquitted by the Senate in 1868.  After Grant’s inauguration in 1869 Johnson slid into national obscurity, though he was lionized in Tennessee.  On 31 July 1875, Andrew Johnson died in Elizabethton, Tennessee while visiting his daughter.  To this day he has been the only president to serve without a vice-president.

And, mutts.  Lovable, loyal, playful dogs with more than one “breed” in their bloodlines.  Many end up in animal shelters, many end up in medical labs.  For whatever reason, they are not often seen as working dogs, though there’s no real reason for that discrimination.  Purebred dogs often have genetic disorders known to their kind: what makes them special?  Of all the dogs I’ve ever owned or lived with (a dozen over six decades), none of the purebreds from accredited kennels were any more special than the “Heinz 57” dogs from a shelter, or free from good owners, or just picked up off the street.

Dogs, well cared for and not abused, are only as good as their environment, but they can be a handful.  I’ve had one, just one and only for a week, who was uncontrollable, and Tiger was a AKC registered German Shepherd.  Most are good foot-warmers, great listeners, fetchers of whatever, and eaters of nearly everything.  Some bark a lot, most bark some, some don’t at all.  And yes, most of them shead, want your attention when you least expect it, and lick their privates in front of your in-laws. But, if you want a loyal companion who will occasionally make a mess, visit a local shelter or, failing that, help the ASPCA rescue the abused animals who, after all, only want to please someone.

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Three Essays on Strategy Now Available in Paperback and PDF

JDB Communications, LLC is proud to announce the availability of Three Essays on Strategy by John D. Beatty in paperback and PDF from The Book Patch.

Walcott, Iowa, and Wall, South Dakota may seem to be unlikely places to talk about in an essay collection on strategy, but examining these institutions is a good introduction to the ideas of how strategy is made.  For those who have never been to Walcott, Iowa, it is the home of the world’s largest truck stop.   To earn this distinction, the ne plus ultra of road trip rest emporiums rises from the Iowa prairie along Interstate 80.  It began in 1964 as a simple gas station and lunch counter, according to the web site, and has by this writing grown to a sprawling complex that offers everything from a museum to a pet wash stand, four eateries, a laundromat and even a chiropractor and a regular doctor, in addition to the usual fuel found at any such, smaller establishment.  Wall Drug started even earlier, in 1931, offering free ice water to thirsty travelers in the Badland’s summer heat.  When this correspondent saw it, Wall Drug had been joined by over fifty-odd other store fronts plying everything from food to footgear, from books to jewelry, and from tourist souvenirs (including the ubiquitous bumper stickers) to fuel.  How these two mid-America roadside behemoths got where they are, how they got to be bigger than their host communities, is part marketing of course, but also by employing the theme of these essays: strategy.

Alfred T. Mahan’s series of Naval War College lectures, published as The Influence of Sea Power upon History, 1660–1783 (1890) were inconsequential, but the 110-page introduction formalized strategic thought and theory for the first time.  Using Britain as a model, he outlined a fleets-make-bases-make-ports-make- trade-makes-money-makes-fleets formula that had been in use, if unacknowledged, ever since wood was made to swim and carry a load.  This model of strategy was designed not for just for military gain but to advance and secure economic power.  To emphasize this point, Mahan wrote his introduction out of economic necessity: his original manuscript had been rejected, and he penned the famous introduction to get it sold.

That this formalization of what every major state since the beginning of recorded history had practiced should come from a naval officer from the greatest commercial power of its age was almost anticlimactic.  Of all human enterprises, up until Mahan’s time ships and the sea were simultaneously the most lucrative and the most expensive to build and maintain.  The United States, of all the world’s commercial powers, took advantage of America’s many international coasts and harbors to build an overseas trading empire that dwarfed both its competitors and its partners by the middle of the 20th century.

Scratch any historian, politician, wargamer, monarch, or businessperson and you’ll likely get a different definition for “strategy” from each.  Each will be correct—as far as their specialized viewpoint is concerned.  Politicians need to keep getting elected, so their concern is for their electorate, which often means jobs.  Monarchs have some of the same concerns—though usually for their own fortunes and for those of their supporters.  Business always looks for markets, for resources, for labor, but most often for political and economic stability.  Wargamers, working in a different kind of environment altogether from the rest, seek to succeed in whatever game they are playing at the moment, but only within the confines of the game.  For the historian, “strategy” is the sum of what social groups and states plan to do, and what they actually execute, to achieve their goals.  As such, “strategy” is the overall idea that monarchs, tradesmen, politicians or anyone else start out with—or what they develop over the course of years or centuries—to either achieve a defined goal, to ensure their commonweal, or to just survive.

These essays were written in a time when the concept of “strategy” had been formally defined for over a century, and in a world where the concept of “strategy” was intentionally driven by policy.  As these essays show, strategy has been an evolution, a development of policy-making that stretches back millennia, and was sometimes driven by accident, sometimes by design.  During the time period covered by the first two, dealing with the Mediterranean’s ancient world and with Europe and Asia in the early modern period, strategy was a matter of royal prerogative and trade demands.  In the third, dealing with the United States and Japan in the Pacific in the 19th century, strategy was the prerogative, at least in part, of democratically elected representatives.  What is interesting is how similar the strategic choices are, and how similar the alternatives are.  The greatest difference is that of scale.

But too there’s geography, and the tremendous role played by simply stopping in the right place.  Human communities grow where there are resources and conditions that support them.  Even if commercial enterprises like the I-80 truck stop and Wall Drug make their own conditions, that’s not always possible.  Drive along an interstate highway in the US on either side of Wall or of Walcott, and that becomes apparent.  The successful stops are built where on and off ramps provide easy access, but there are nearly as many tall road signs standing next to empty concrete slabs as there are those next to bustling enterprises.  Those that are further down the frontage roads or farther from the ramps rarely survive more than a few years unless they offer something else that weary travelers needed or, like Wall Drug did in the beginning, gave away ice water in summer.  In some places along the highway are the artifacts of failed truck stops, motels and even whole towns that may have thrived once, but no longer.  Many of the abandoned gas stations along the highway lost business when the range of vehicles increased, others because the price of fuel made their continued operation unprofitable, and still others because the owners retired or died.  But, these relics of bygone days were often the casualties of strategic changes made by their competitors and the changing tastes of consumers that they failed to meet.  Often as not, they are the losers in a strategic game that they lost, or perhaps that they didn’t even consciously play.

The social groups and countries described in these essays, like the truck stops and the drug stores that fail while others succeed, are all subject to someone’s strategy.  The trick is being in a position to take advantage of successful strategies or be able to withstand bad ones.

Three Essays on Strategy is another of the growing essay collection from JDB Communications, LLC. that retails for $3.99 for paper, $1.99 for PDF from The Book Patch.