It is Aug. 6, 1945; the sun rises over Hiroshima. Citizens go about their daily business, haggling in the market, studying in school, taking the subway to work. Airplanes appear over the horizon, engines roaring; one drops its deadly cargo, and the cityscape transforms into a portal to hell. Every structure and piece of vegetation within miles of the epicenter incinerates on contact. Thousands of people die within minutes: burned, irradiated, crushed in collapsed buildings. On Aug. 9, Nagasaki suffers the same fate. Six days later, the second World War is over. The U.S. government's new atomic bomb is deadly, destructive and lethally effective -- but was its use a thoughtless waste of Japanese lives or a last resort reached by careful deliberation?
The justice -- or lack thereof -- of America's decision to use nuclear weapons on Japan may seem like an entirely obsolete topic. World War II ended almost 60 years ago; many of the young men who fought in Europe and on innumerable Pacific islands are dead now regardless, and the devastation wrought by Allied and Axis forces alike has been repaired. The dust and ash -- and radioactive fallout -- has long since settled ... but the second World War has not been forgotten. It changed the face of this planet for good or ill, physically and politically, and history has not remembered President Truman's decision kindly. In general, America's use of atomic bombs is viewed with disapproval or outright condemnation, even if the reference to the war is not specifically disparaging. It was an unnecessary waste of civilian lives; Truman made his decision too hastily, as a show of force to further his political career; the war needed a resolution, but not at the cost of such widespread devastation and suffering; more peaceful options had not yet been exhausted.
Such objections seem to forget or ignore the fact that the atomic bomb ended the war and ended it swiftly. There is reason to believe as well that "Fat Man" and "Little Boy" actually saved lives and that other avenues for gaining peace would have proved to be far more dangerous and far less effective.
Those that would advocate a more peaceful end to the conflict might point to continued negotiations. In 1945, America wanted unconditional surrender; Japan wanted its military and sovereignty left largely intact, resulting in a continued threat to national safety that Truman's administration could not abide with a clear conscience. Even had negotiations appeared to go through successfully, there was no guarantee that Japan would deal honestly with its enemies. In 1941, when America was still reasonably committed to neutrality, Japan and the United States were involved in negotiations to maintain peace when Japan secretly sent a fleet of aircraft carriers across the Pacific; the last message, breaking off all diplomacy, did not arrive until after the unexpected attack on Pearl Harbor.
Even later in the war, the Japanese government could have avoided further destruction of its cities. Months before Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Allied forces had retaken most of Japan's conquests in the Pacific and conquered Iwo Jima and Okinawa; B-29 bombers had rained devastation on numerous Japanese cities, including Tokyo, causing more loss of life and property than either of the atomic bombs had. Instead of surrendering, the Japanese government and military chose to dig in harder, training its civilians to fight to the death and arming members of the military with bamboo spears when more modern weapons were not available. Suicide pilots in kamikaze planes could also inflict great damage on Allied forces, and they were willing to spend their lives in this way.
What many people do not know is that the U.S. government had made detailed plans for a full-scale invasion of Japan. Operation Downfall, as it was called, consisted primarily of two separate invasions. Operation Olympic, planned for November 1945, would have taken the island of Kyushu, providing a base of operations for further attacks; in the beginning of 1946, Operation Coronet would have followed, conquering the main island of Honshu and theoretically ending the war. Military analysts projected casualties based on statistics from other battles, and the resulting figures were sobering. Numbers varied, but out of the 767,000 Americans who would have been involved in Operation Olympic, about 400,000 of these soldiers would have made the casualty lists as killed, wounded or missing in action. Japanese civilians-programmed to resist defeat as fiercely as their leaders would have numbered among the millions of predicted Japanese casualties. Poison gas, germ warfare, crop-destroying chemicals and even atomic bombs might have been used as part of the invasion, obliterating Japan's economy and making Operation Olympic the bloodiest invasion in history. Despite the massive loss of life likely to happen, America suspected that the Japanese still would not surrender; using Kyushu as a staging ground, Operation Coronet would have destroyed Honshu with even higher casualty rates. Instead, the two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki killed an estimated total of 150,000 civilians.
In response to the invasion plans, the Philadelphia Quartermaster Depot ordered 370,000 Purple Hearts to award those killed or wounded in action; the U.S. military is still using those Purple Hearts today. The Japanese government had its own predictions, realizing that the Allies would likely attempt an invasion, and its response was markedly different: It concentrated its remaining military in areas where the main thrusts of the invasion were likely to occur and prepared its civilians to die rather than to surrender. Even the bombing of Hiroshima did not convince the government's pro-war party; it took a second citywide destruction in Nagasaki for Japan's leaders to admit defeat.
To be perfectly honest, I have my own personal reasons for approving of the atomic bomb's use. In mid-1945, an 18-year-old young man named Don Gage was on a troop ship bound for Japan, slated to be part of the invasion that probably would have killed him. Instead, Japan surrendered to the atomic bombs, and he became part of the occupation force in Korea. Don Gage was my mother's father; had he taken part in Operation Downfall, chances are I would not be alive today.
The truth is, I was not there. I did not experience the suffering of traditional or nuclear warfare. I did not lose friends or family members to enemy bullets or radioactive infernos. However, I believe that some war is justified, and I also believe that America's use of nuclear weapons in this instance was justified as well. The toll on Japan was high, but not as high as it might have been, and the decision to drop the atomic bomb brought a decisive end to one of the most costly wars in the world's history.