The decision to drop atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 remains one of the most controversial and hotly debated topics in military history. Proponents argue that it was a necessary evil to end the war and save countless American and Japanese lives that would have been lost in a conventional invasion. Critics contend that it was an inhumane act that killed tens of thousands of civilians and opened a dark chapter in the atomic age. But what was the alternative to this fateful decision?
The United States had drawn up plans for a massive invasion of the Japanese home islands, codenamed Operation Downfall. It would have been an undertaking unlike anything seen before in the history of warfare. The numbers are staggering – over 40 aircraft carriers, 24 battleships, 400 other naval vessels. Fourteen divisions for the initial invasion of Kyushu in Operation Olympic, then another 25 divisions for the main assault on Honshu and Tokyo in Operation Coronet. D-Day, by comparison, saw 12 divisions hit the beaches of Normandy.
But the Japanese were preparing a fanatical defense of their homeland. They moved a million soldiers to Kyushu, armed civilians with primitive weapons, and planned to unleash thousands of kamikaze planes and suicide boats on the American fleet. Casualty estimates ranged into the millions for the Allies and tens of millions for the Japanese, military and civilian alike. The specter of Okinawa loomed large – the hellish island battle had seen over 140,000 Japanese soldiers and civilians perish, along with heavy American losses, in a foretaste of what was to come.
The United States minted nearly 500,000 Purple Heart medals in anticipation of the bloodbath. Astonishingly, that stockpile has proven sufficient for all American casualties in the 76 years since, from Korea to Vietnam to Iraq and Afghanistan. Let that sink in – military leaders expected more wounded and dead in this single operation than we have suffered in over three quarters of a century of conflict.
But here is the great irony and moral quandary – even if the atomic bombs had not been dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, they still would have been used tactically during Downfall. Up to twenty bombs might have devastated the landing beaches and Japanese defenses, bathing both sides in deadly radiation. It raises the question – would such usage, directly against military targets but endangering invading American troops, have been more ethical than destroying two cities? There are no easy answers.
In the end, President Truman chose to unleash the atomic bombs, gambling that this shock and awe would force Japan to surrender without need for invasion. It is impossible to know if he was right. Would the Japanese have surrendered anyway, as the Soviet Union entered the war and the home islands were blockaded and bombed? Or would they have fought to the bitter end, killing and dying in numbers that stagger the imagination?
These are the kinds of questions that have haunted historians and policymakers ever since the day the Enola Gay flew over Hiroshima. We must grapple with them, argue about them, but resist the temptation to judge the past too neatly based on what we know now. The sheer scale of death and suffering during World War Two, and the unimaginable future toll of a conventional invasion, must be kept in context. Perhaps there was no “good” choice, no path that would not have involved more destruction before the final reckoning. And that may be the most unsettling conclusion of all.