The address was delivered on the 19th of this month in 1863, two hundred fifty-seven years ago. With the possible exception of Washington’s Farewell Address, Franklin Roosevelt’s First Inaugural Address, John F. Kennedy’s Inaugural Address, and Martin Luther King’s "I Have a Dream" Speech, it is considered the most famous in our history.
Its delivery was much more unusual than the others. First, the battle giving it its name had been fought months before in July. The speech was delayed due to the burial and reburial of the dead according to which side they belonged to and whether they were officers or not, etc., multitudes being returned to the south for their final internment. Pennsylvania for instance demanded that all of the soldiers of its Iron Brigade be interred together.
Secondly, the speaker, President Lincoln was in very poor health. The closest train station was in Harrisburg many miles away. He may have collapsed there and then had to forego the long carriage ride to the battlefield, and finally had to wait as the featured speaker, Edward Everette, droned on for two hours, a speech now forgotten. Then the poor Executive rose, the weather being acceptable but not cool, and spoke for 2-3 minutes, uttering 271 words.
Lastly, the surroundings were hardly lavish. It was in a field where the audience either sat on the ground or stood. The famous Bachrack photo makes it look very uncomfortable.
Nevertheless, the result was miraculous, even if not immediately. Lincoln, looking pale and exhausted with what was later said to be a “touch of smallpox,” reminded the listeners that it had only been 87 years since the founding of the Great Republic and had been “conceived and dedicated to the proposition that all men were created equal.” He ended by wishing that the sacrifice made by the fallen men of both sides would renew the nation.
A couple of curiosities might interest the reader: First, that people had wonderful auditory skills at the time, so much so that a few persons from any part of the crowd could have come very close to recalling the entire speech nearly word for word. And secondly, the sending of the speech to the nation was quite a process. Batteries being primitive at the time, telegraph stations were spaced only ten or so miles apart. Using the dots and dashes of the time, the address would have been sent from one station to another or another, etc., until it reached its destination, perhaps taking many hours.
Some 70 years ago next week, on October 15, 1950, President Harry Truman met with General of the Armies Douglas MacArthur at Wake Island, a tiny and almost uninhabited dot on the map between Japan and Hawaii. The issue was the use of atomic bombs against China in the Korean War.
The war had started on June 25, 1950, when Communist forces from North Korea, under the grandfather of the present dictator, and an ally of communist China, attacked South Korea, a U.S. ally. The vast forces the U.S. had used to fight World War 2 against Japan had long been reduced to a small force with MacArthur as commander in occupied Tokyo. MacArthur reacted with a brilliant stroke behind the North Korean lines and drove them out of the south and nearly to the Chinese border, whereupon the Chinese attacked and drove what were by that time United Nations forces back about to the border between the two countries.
The issue became the use of atomic bombs which we had and China did not. MacArthur, the so-called “American Caesar,” who had done much to defeat Japan, was an imperious man unwilling to accept anything but victory over what he considered a second-rate power. Oddly, he retained his World War II rank as a 5-star general while the others holding that rank had long retired. As such, he theoretically commanded the U.S. army worldwide, including the Pentagon. He intended to use whatever power he had against China. Preparations were made to bring atomic bombs to Okinawa which was in range of China for our bombers.
On Truman’s side, as commander-in-chief, he saw the old general as trying to upstage him and assume power that was not his: he ordered a meeting at Wake Island. Both later told different versions of what had happened. One might expect the imperious general to shade the truth some, but Truman had a solid reputation for at least two things, very colorful language, and for telling the truth. In his book Plain Speaking, however, he says that having flown the longer distance to get to Wake, MacArthur was late in flying in from Tokyo and so kept the President’s plane from landing (the old idea is that a subordinate officer will be in position to received his commander and act as host).
Actually, Truman lied. MacArthur arrived in advance and was a gracious host; and the meeting was actually quite cordial. Nevertheless, things soon broke down when MacArthur said a few things he should not have, and on April 11, 1951, he was relieved of his command. He milked it for all he was worth by giving his amazingly famous “Old Soldier’s Never Die, They Just Fade Away” speech to which millions of Americans nearly shed a tear.
Interesting to think how the world would be different if we had used atomic bombs against the Chinese (USSR, the ally of China had atomic weapons). But most people think plain old Harry, the only non-college graduate of the Presidents of the last century, the former haberdasher from Independence, Missouri, was correct to let the tragic and thoughtless war drag on to a stalemate in 1953, the borders completely unchanged.
Jimmy Doolittle had become very famous long before planning the raid in 1942 named after him.
He gained the national spotlight in 1932 winning the Thompson Trophy air race in Cleveland. At a time when airplanes were comparatively new (Lindbergh had only flown across the Atlantic five years before), great crowds would appear to see races of the most advanced aircraft. The G. B. Racer was one airplane which inspired much interest, though its reputation was as a plane “hard to fly.” When asked why he would attempt to fly such a craft, with some grit in his expression, which was unusual in him, Doolittle said: “Because it is the very fastest plane in the world!”
He won the race but when asked what it was like, he commented, “I got the idea that if I so much as bobbed my head, I would be killed.” The owner of the Racer asked him if he would fly it back to its home field in Indianapolis, but he refused. “I am never setting foot in that plane again!” His reluctance was well justified: the plane Doolittle had flown and several other models resulted in fatal crashes for their pilots.
Everything had been done with the plane to streamline it, unfortunately including limiting the surface areas of the wings and particularly the rudder, which made it inherently unstable. The 1930s was a time of great technological advances in aircraft. In only a few years, the two-bladed wooden propeller of the Racer was completely outclassed by planes such as the German Messerschmidt 109 and the English Spitfire with their solid steel three and then four-bladed propellers, and engines of several times the power.
Sources: Again, Doolittle’s autobiography, “I Could Never Be So Lucky Again,” and Wikipedia.
Rogers (1879-1935) was born on the Cherokee Nation reservation in Oklahoma and rose to be the most famous American of his time competing only with President Franklin D. Roosevelt for the honor.
His rise to fame was at a time well before TV when the forms of entertainment were movies, radio, and live stage shows (vaudeville). Starting with a cowboy type act where he did tricks with a rope and told jokes at the same type, his home- spun genuineness and likability made him famous. Gradually, his humorous advice column in newspapers all across the nation brought him to national prominence. He was the highest paid actor for a time.
No one ever took offense at his brand of humor:
“I never met a man I didn’t like”
“I only know what I read in the newspapers”
In 1935 at the height of his fame, with famed aviator Wiley Post, he decided to fly around the world. They made it as far as Point Barrow, Alaska, when on August 15, their single-engine plane’s motor stalled on takeoff and the pair were killed.
The sinking, and the disaster that followed, caused the greatest loss of life in the history of the United States Navy. It occurred on the night of July 29-30, 1945, seventy-five years ago this month right at the end of World War II.
The ship was a heavy cruiser, the middle size in the three types of warships existing at the time: battleships, cruisers and then destroyers. It was armed with 10 8” guns each of which could fire a 256 lb. projectile a maximum of about thirteen miles. The ship weighed about 10,000 tons and its top speed was about 35 miles an hour.
Under top secret orders, Indianapolis carried the main components for the atomic bomb to the island of Tinian in the Marianas which was then dropped on Hiroshima on August 9th. Thereafter, she proceeded toward the Philippines and was sunk by a Japanese submarine, the I-58. But the ship was not missed due to the nature of its orders and the crew languished in the water with little water or food for four days before being seen, just by chance, by a scout plane. Nearly half died, suffering the horrors of dehydration, hypothermia, and then sharks attacks (there is no total of the shark attacks alone, because many of the men the sharks attacked were already dead; but it is considered the worst shark attack in history). Only 316 men survived of 1195.
The torpedoing of a ship going full speed in either of the world wars was next to impossible as evidenced by a comparison of the loss of the liner Lusitania in 1915, and Indianapolis thirty years later, and thereby shows how unlucky both ships were. Both submerged submarines had about one seventh or eighth the speed of the ships. Picture two persons standing on a football field, one at each end (one representing a submarine, and the other a ship). Assume that the range of the torpedoes was about ten steps. For every step the “sub” moves to get into position, the “ship” moves seven. Three steps by the sub and the ship has moved 21. There is simply no way a sub could chase down such a ship or even move into position for a shot. Lusitania was zig-zagging and just happened to zig directly in front of the U-boat. Indianapolis was not zig-zagging but headed almost directly at the Japanese sub.
While the American ship captain, McVay, was court-martialed, later cooler heads prevailed and he was reinstated. But his grief was such that it did not keep him from committing suicide in 1968.
Sources: War Beneath the Sea, by Peter Padfield, p. 465; Japanese Warships of World War II, A. J. Watts; Wikipedia.
The disappearance of the Lady Be Good, an American bomber, has been one of the enduring mysteries of World War II. From what I understand, this is a logical version of what happened to the plane and its crew, though it will take two blogs to explain it.
After the Allies, mainly the British and Americans, took North Africa from the Germans and Italians, preparations were made to invade Italy. Bases were established in North Africa for the purpose of bombing key Italian targets, one such being Benina in Libya, home of a squadron of the heavy American B-24, the largest bomber we had at the time (slightly larger and faster than the B-17). On April 5, 1943, a number of them took off in flights of three to bomb Naples. One of these in the last flight to take off was the Lady Be Good. The pilot, having the right to call his plane what he wished, had chosen a famous Broadway play he admired.
Despite one contact with its base well into the mission, the plane remained missing until 1958, when a British exploration team looking for oil chanced upon its wreckage 440 miles to the south of its base, well into the African interior. The plane was in almost pristine condition. When it came down it had made an almost perfect landing in the sands of the Sahara desert; the hull had broken behind the wings and was slightly skewed to the right. The radio worked, food and water were still aboard, the navigator’s instruments still in the box! No remains of crew members were found at the site. A number of questions were asked, some never answered:
When the campaign began in the spring of 1945, to burn out the major cities of Japan, starting with Tokyo on March 9, the real power of the B-29 became evident. Much had been ordered by the American Joint Chiefs to make it work.
First, we needed large land areas on which to base the great bombers with their amazing supplies, from gasoline to bombs to quarters for the hundreds of crewmen and supporting personal. The Asian land areas and the Philippines were too far away. While the usual tactic in our march across the Pacific was to “island hop,” that is to skip most islands, taking only the one in each island group we thought could support a B-24 landing strip, and then march to the next group. While Okinawa certainly had a large enough land area, it was too close to Japan for us to take at the time, and thus we took three islands on the Marianas group, Guam, Saipan and, the closest to Japan, Tinian. From the tip of Tinian it was said to be 1289 miles to the Japanese shoreline, and of course a good bit further to the large cities we were wishing to target. It seemed a planning nightmare because our next greatest bombers did not have the range to do more than reach Japan let alone return.
The B-29 could fly more than the distance across the United States, some 3,000, so could fly to Japan with a bombload and come all the back to Tinian. On the basis of this, the campaign began, but as the spring went on the campaign developed a serious flaw. If attacked, over Japan, it was the pilot’s choice to push the engines past a “red line,” if he thought he could not otherwise get away. The plane seemed to jump with the extra power and few Japanese fighter planes had enough speed to catch it. But with the extra gasoline consumption, such a plane could never make it back to Tinian. At a fantastic cost, dozens of undamaged or slightly damaged planes had to crash in the Pacific and the crews run the risk of being picked up by our submarines.
The Joint Chiefs had a plan for this scenario, to take the only island between Tinian and Japan on which the B-29s could possibly land, Iwo Jima. We knew that the enemy had spent much time fortifying the island and were waiting for us, but there was no other choice: lose valuable crews and planes we thought were indispensable to win the war, or send the Marines into a bloodbath. The result was the attack on the island in July of 1945, the most vicious combat in our history: some 26,000 American casualties and the deaths of 21,000 Japanese Imperial Marines (almost none surrendered). By the end of the campaign some 25,000 aircrews had set down on the island, and hundreds of the B-29s saved.
Credit to Bing: https://binged.it/36aRlAQ
The real weapon used in the atomic bomb attacks was not nuclear energy, which was in its infancy, but the plane that dropped the bombs, the Boeing B-29. It was the first weapon developed by mankind that could have destroyed the earth. It had twice the range of the other biggest bombers, twice the bombload, and much more speed. It was literally the only bomber in the world which could have carried atomic bombs over the distance and at the speed demanded.
Many persons have assumed that using atomic bombs (first on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945, and then on Nagasaki three days later) was inhumane, and of course that is true. But the U. S. was involved in a world war with an enemy who had acted in an inhuman manner in most everything they had done in the war: from their treatment of prisoners of war and civilians, and the complete disregard of the value of human life on a very large scale. They had attacked us at Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941, and we felt we had to retaliate in kind to win.
Starting at the top of the list of the 50 largest cities in Japan, in the spring of 1945, the U.S. began by bombing (with conventional bombs, which we called “firebombing”) one of the world’s largest cities, Tokyo, on March 9. It resulted in the worst day in human history with the greatest number of people ever killed in a 24-hour period at 84,000. One hundred square miles of the heart of city were burned to the ground. (Hiroshima, even considering those dying of radiation sickness twenty years later does not overawe the Tokyo total).
By the spring of 1945, despite the total destruction of dozens of their cities by the Boeing plane, the Japanese were not still not willing to admit defeat. By that summer the atomic bombs were available and our government thought that the one million casualties we projected our forces would suffer in an invasion of home islands was too great of the sacrifice to ask of the American people, if an alternative were available. One was, the employment of B-29s using atomic bombs to force the enemy into submission, which it did.
The idea of what total war means has escalated from the time of Sherman’s march through Georgia in the Civil War, to the mass killings by way of the machine gun in World War I, to Tokyo. We cannot fathom what it would be like next time.
On an early mission against Singapore, one of the B-29s was damaged. It came down at a primitive airport at a place called Dum Dum in eastern India, which a friend of mine has actually recently seen. The runway, which my father never saw, was narrow enough that in trying to land, the great plane’s left wing was nearly knocked off when it hit the control tower.
Since the immensely valuable plane was in range of Japanese bases, forces both British and ours were galvanized to get it fixed and out of harm’s way. Part of the job fell to my father. Though he was in charge of one warehouse, he was ordered to take a truck with some of his men and pick up a wing assembly from a British warehouse. The place was guarded by a Kurkha soldier from Nepal. The British Empire, world-wide at the time, used many natives as troops in their armies. These men were renowned for their toughness, but spoke no English and perhaps had never seen an American uniform before. Assigned to guard the warehouse, as soon as my father approached, he aimed his rifle at my father’s chest. While he had a Thompson submachine gun in his Jeep and men in the truck, my Dad thought it was best to talk his way into the warehouse rather than shoot it out with an ally.
He soon gave up trying to talk to the Kurkha in English. As the disabled B-29 was in danger some miles away, there was no time to find a British solider who would tell the Kurkha he was on our side. Finally, in desperation, my father pointed to his wallet and the Kurkha nodded that he could get it out. The only thing he could find that looked at all official was his Chicago Motor Club card, (like a AAA card of today), which had a star on it. The soldier immediately put down his rifle, saluted, and laboriously shook my father’s hand.
My father believed that the Kurkha thought he was a general and would have let him have anything! They loaded up the 2 ½ ton truck with the wing assembly, headed off to meet other trucks with other parts, whereupon my father headed back to his base. But the bomber got off the next morning.
I first heard this story decades ago, and it is not hard to imagine the wonderment my father must have seen on the faces of his four little children!