Free The Final Storm by Jeff Shaara

Manila, linked up with you, made a combined effort …”
    Nimitz knew it was time to throw the leash.
    “Let it go, General. The plans were put in the books months ago. I’ve had too many arguments with Washington about strategy, and when it comes to Okinawa, I’ve got the backing to do the job I want to do. Five days ago, Iwo Jima fell into our pocket, and it won’t take long before you’ll have your airstrips there in top shape. I’m heading out there in a couple days, see it for myself. We took some hellacious casualties there, and I need to pat some people on the back. With all due respect, General, right now my attention is on the men who have to cross those beaches. And the next beaches we’re hitting are on Okinawa.”
    “I told them we should have used gas. Still can.”
    Nimitz knew this conversation too well. It had begun with a loud callcoming from newspapers in the States that poison gas would quite simply save American lives.
    “Not on my watch, General. Until the president tells me he’s tossed the Geneva Convention in the crapper, gas is not an option. You already know that.”
    LeMay nodded.
    “It would work. Pretty sure of that. But, fine. Just … if there’s anybody you can talk to … Admiral King, Forrestal, hell, William Randolph Hearst, I don’t care. Find a way to get me some more incendiaries.”
    Nimitz was growing weary of LeMay’s surly energy.
    “How about I find a way to get you those airbases closer to Japan? Right now there are several thousand Jap planes anchored on Formosa and Kyushu, and God knows where else, and every damn one of them is fired up to go out in some asinine blaze of glory. I’m scared as hell of those kamikaze strikes. You hear what they did to the
Franklin
?”
    LeMay shook his head, still scowling, and Nimitz said, “I just received the report this morning, General. The Japs took a hell of a swipe at us, after you bombed those airfields on Kyushu.” Nimitz felt his own heat rising. “Five carriers took direct hits from those sons of bitches. But the
Franklin
got it the worst. More than seven hundred sailors were lost, blown to bits, burned to hell. So, if you’re having trouble getting incendiaries, then use high explosives and give me a hand somewhere besides Tokyo. Just because you can beat the hell out of somebody doesn’t mean you should. The Jap civilians aren’t our priority right now. The Jap troops waiting for us on Okinawa are. I don’t want my boys going across those beaches worried about what’s about to drop on them from the air. You want air superiority? So do I. So let’s start by giving it to those boys who have to worry more about Jap bayonets than Jap fighter planes. I’m authorized to call upon you for B-29 support, and I’m doing just that. Put your people over those Jap airbases, drop a thousand mines in the Jap harbors, keep their warships the hell out of our way.”
    LeMay seemed to sulk.
    “No B-29 is going to stop any damn kamikaze. We blow hell out of their airfields, and they take their Zeroes or their crop dusters or whatever the hell else they’re using back into the brush, hide ’em until we’re done. I’ve seen those reports too. We bust up an airfield, and slave labor fills in the holes the next day.”
    “No arguments about this, General. I know your orders. Until the Okinawalandings are completed, and that island is secure, your bombers will do everything I need them to do. Supply will catch up, and I’m certain that you’ll get your incendiaries. But right now …”
    “Fine. Put your staff in touch with my logistics officers. For now, there’s not much else I can do.”
    “Plenty you can do. Just do it for me, instead of Hap Arnold. I promise you, he won’t mind. He doesn’t want Admiral King beating down his office door, bitching about your lack of support.” Nimitz paused, thought he saw a hint of a smile from the man who almost never smiled. Nimitz had calmed, took a sip of the bourbon,