America Gamely Stumbled Off to War
   

   By Peter Carlson
   Washington Post Staff Writer
   Friday, December 7, 2001; Page A01
   
   After the sneak attack, crowds gathered outside the White
   House and sang "God Bless America." Soldiers armed with
   machine guns guarded government buildings. The FBI began
   rounding up suspicious foreigners.  And the head of the
   Secret Service stared nervously at the sky, watching for
   suspicious aircraft.
   
   It was Dec. 7, 1941, 60 years ago today. Japanese planes
   had bombed Pearl Harbor, and the West Coast was in a
   state of panic.
   
   In Los Angeles, an antiaircraft battery blasted away at
   enemy bombers that were not actually there.
   
   In Seattle, authorities ordered all lights extinguished
   to fool Japanese pilots, and mobs enforced the blackout
   by smashing store windows that had been left illuminated
   -- and, incidentally, looting the stores.
   
   In San Francisco, Army Gen. John DeWitt swore that a
   flock of 15 enemy planes had buzzed the city and he
   became irate when citizens expressed skepticism because
   the phantom planes had dropped no bombs.
   
   "Why bombs were not dropped, I don't know," DeWitt
   said. "It might have been better if some bombs had
   dropped to awaken this city. . . .  If I can't knock
   these facts into your heads with words, I will have to
   turn you over to the police to let them knock them into
   you with clubs."
   
   In the three months since Sept. 11, 2001, a time of
   anthrax panics and fear of flying, we tend to look at
   wartime America through the rosy haze of nostalgia,
   seeing a land of stalwart, courageous, patriotic
   heroes. But the truth is far more interesting. Despite
   the legend of the "Greatest Generation," there was just
   as much chaos, fear, bickering, folly, drama and comedy
   in the first few months after Pearl Harbor as there is
   now.
   
   And just as many screw-ups. Maybe more.
   
   Eager for a Fight
   
   On Dec. 8, recruiting offices across the country were
   swamped with patriots eager to fight the Japanese.
   
   "I just want to take one good shot at them," Welzey
   Hensley told The Washington Post as he waited in line at
   a Navy recruiting office in Washington. "I don't mind
   giving my life for my country. We wouldn't be here today
   if it weren't for people who have done that."
   
   Liquor stores were as crowded as recruiting
   offices. Drinkers haunted by bad memories of Prohibition
   hoarded hooch for the sober times ahead. Grocery stores
   were packed with shoppers who picked the shelves clean.
   
   "A Ford station wagon left a Connecticut Avenue store so
   grossly overloaded with canned foods," wrote David
   Brinkley in "Washington Goes to War," that "the rear end
   sagged down and rubbed on the tires, causing black smoke
   and a horrible odor as it crept slowly toward Chevy
   Chase."
   
   Across the nation, inquiring reporters searched for the
   mood of America and found the people confident.
   
   "I feel certain we can whip the pants off them," said
   Irene Noble, a Los Angeles candy store clerk.
   
   "It won't take long," said John Zimmerman of Brooklyn,
   "and the United States will be on top, just like Brooklyn
   was in the National League."
   
   "It's best to have war now," said Army Pvt. Salvator
   Castiglione, "while we're prepared for it."
   
   Actually, the country was woefully unprepared. In the
   past year, America's first peacetime draft had put
   hundreds of thousands of men in uniform, but the Army was
   so short of weapons that some soldiers trained using
   wooden guns and throwing fake grenades. And now, a large
   portion of the Pacific fleet had been sunk at Pearl
   Harbor and the country was at war with Japan, and within
   days, also Germany and Italy.
   
   Soon, Nazi U-boats were sinking American ships within
   sight of New York and Miami. In February, a Japanese
   submarine fired shells at the California coast at the
   very moment that President Franklin D.  Roosevelt was
   reassuring Americans in a radio chat.
   
   The prospect of air raids terrified Americans. The city
   of Gary, Ind., tested a plan to shield its steel mills
   from enemy planes by shrouding the city in a cloud of
   dense smoke. In Boston, the gilded dome of the
   Massachusetts State House was covered with dull gray
   paint to make it less conspicuous.
   
   In Washington, the Army was ordered to set up
   antiaircraft batteries on government
   buildings. Unfortunately, there were more buildings than
   batteries, so some ended up defended by ersatz cannons
   made of wood.
   
   Across the country, cities held air raid drills and
   citizens turned off their lights or covered their windows
   with thick black curtains.  The Office of Civilian
   Defense issued helpful instructions: "If bombs start to
   fall near you, lie down. . . . Should your house be hit,
   keep cool."
   
   Washington's first air raid drill was scheduled for
   Dec. 21, 1941.  Newspapers and radio stations publicized
   the event for days and people waited eagerly for the
   blast of the siren. When the big moment arrived, a city
   official flipped the switch and . . . silence.
   
   Well, not quite silence. Folks standing nearby could make
   out a slight squawk. But the World War I-era horn was so
   ancient and rusted that all it could do was creak and
   wheeze.
   
   He's No Rudy
   
   In anticipation of war, FDR had appointed Fiorello
   LaGuardia, New York's colorful mayor, to head the Office
   of Civilian Defense. This was roughly equivalent to
   George W. Bush appointing Pennsylvania Gov.  Tom Ridge as
   director of homeland security, except that LaGuardia did
   not project Ridge's air of solid implacability. On Pearl
   Harbor day, he attempted to calm the public by riding
   through Washington in a police car, its siren wailing as
   LaGuardia hollered, "Calm! Calm!"
   
   This performance failed to calm Washingtonians. Nor were
   New Yorkers reassured by their mayor's frequent
   predictions that the city would soon be bombed. LaGuardia
   seemed to believe that he could best serve the cause of
   civil defense by getting photographed wearing funny hats.
   
   Aides urged FDR to fire him, but the president couldn't
   bear to can his old friend. So he moved LaGuardia to a
   symbolic position and appointed James M. Landis, dean of
   the Harvard Law School, to run the agency. Landis was
   appropriately colorless. So was his prose.
   
   At a press conference, FDR cracked up when he read
   Landis's official instructions on how to black out
   federal offices: "Such obscuration can be obtained either
   by blackout construction or by terminating the
   illumination."
   
   Laughing, reporters asked FDR if his press secretary had
   written that.
   
   "No," the president replied. "The dean of Harvard Law
   School wrote it."
   
   There was a new slang term for such bureaucratic language
   -- "gobbledygook" -- and the bureaucrats were producing
   it by the pound.  In the spring of 1942, Sen. Millard
   Tydings of Maryland charged that government agencies were
   bombarding each of America's major newspapers with nearly
   17 pounds of official press releases every week.
   
   That's a lot of press releases. But there were a lot of
   government agencies. America was attempting to transform
   a still-depressed civilian economy into a war machine
   that could train, equip, feed and transport millions of
   soldiers across two oceans. That huge task spawned many
   agencies, each known by its initials -- WPB, WSA, WMC,
   OCD, ODT, OPA, OPC.
   
   Nobody could keep track of all these initials, not even
   the people who ran the agencies. At a press conference,
   Interior Secretary Harold Ickes was asked about a new
   ruling from the OPC -- the Office of Petroleum
   Coordination.
   
   "I can't speak for the OPC," he said.
   
   The reporters looked confused. An aide informed Ickes
   that he was the director of the OPC.
   
   "I'm all balled up on all these initials," Ickes replied,
   speaking for millions.
   
   Our 'Concentration Camps'
   
   "Personally, I hate the Japanese, and that goes for all
   of them," wrote Henry McLemore, a columnist for the San
   Francisco Examiner.  "Herd 'em up, pack 'em off and give
   'em the inside room at the badlands."
   
   With that screed, McLemore summed up what was soon to
   become official American policy toward Japanese
   Americans.
   
   When the war began, the United States was home to about
   900,000 "enemy aliens" -- a category that included
   non-citizens born in Axis nations.  Most were German or
   Italian immigrants.
   
   "I don't care so much about the Italians," FDR told his
   attorney general. "They are a bunch of opera singers. But
   the Germans are different. They may be dangerous."
   
   Early in the war, the feds rounded up about 5,000 Germans
   and Italians suspected of sympathizing with the
   Axis. Most were released within a year.
   
   Japanese Americans did not fare so well. Whites on the
   West Coast, terrified by the prospect of invasion,
   demanded that Japanese Americans be evacuated. The demand
   came not only from bigots like McLemore but also from
   California Attorney General Earl Warren, who would later
   become a famously liberal Supreme Court justice. Warren
   urged the feds to remove all Japanese Americans from
   California, even those born in the United States.
   
   On Feb. 19, 1942, Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066,
   authorizing the War Department to remove Japanese
   Americans from the West Coast.  Within a few months,
   112,000 were interned behind barbed wire in what FDR
   himself later called "concentration camps."
   
   Incredibly, these citizens remained patriotic. In 1943,
   when the Army announced that it would accept Japanese
   American soldiers, more than 17,000 enlisted, many taking
   their Army oath while still imprisoned in the camps. Most
   were sent to fight the Nazis, and they became famous for
   their bravery, earning 3,000 Purple Hearts and hundreds
   of other medals.
   
   "No combat unit in the Army," wrote legendary war
   cartoonist Bill Mauldin, "could exceed them in loyalty,
   hard work, courage and sacrifice."
   
   Hollywood Joins the Battle
   
   After the Sept. 11 attacks, President Bush urged
   Americans to support the war on terrorism by buying and
   flying. "Fly and enjoy America's great destination
   spots," he said. "Get down to Disney World in
   Florida. Take your families and enjoy life the way we
   want it to be enjoyed."
   
   In the months after Pearl Harbor, the government asked
   Americans to do a lot more than that. It urged men to
   enlist and, if they didn't, it drafted them. All told, 16
   million Americans served in the military during the war,
   two-thirds of them draftees. Those serving included the
   rich and the famous -- Joe DiMaggio, Joe Louis, Jimmy
   Stewart, Clark Gable, Lyndon Johnson, Henry Cabot Lodge
   Jr., Franklin Delano Roosevelt Jr.
   
   Bandleader Glenn Miller was killed in action. So were the
   sons of Sen.  Leverett Saltonstall, FDR aide Harry
   Hopkins and Ambassador Joseph P.  Kennedy.
   
   To conjure up a contemporary equivalent, picture Ben
   Affleck and Derek Jeter serving in Afghanistan, plus Sean
   "P. Diddy" Combs, Adam Sandler and Al Gore's son killed
   in combat.
   
   On the home front, government agencies issued an
   unrelenting stream of demands on the country's 120
   million civilians: Buy war bonds. Grow vegetables in
   "victory gardens." Conserve rubber. Save scrap metal.
   And turn in your bacon fat (which contained a chemical
   used to make gunpowder).
   
   The scrap metal drives brought in some odd items,
   including two iron deer from Walt Disney's front lawn, a
   rowing machine donated by the governor of Massachusetts,
   suits of armor used in the Broadway play "The Vagabond
   King" and 14 tons of copper stills confiscated from
   moonshiners in West Virginia.
   
   When voluntary conservation measures didn't work, the
   government began rationing goods in the spring of 1942:
   sugar, gas, tires and shoes, two pairs a year for
   civilians.
   
   Even rationing failed to prevent periodic shortages of
   everything from cigarettes to diapers to paper. When
   people grumbled about it -- and they did -- some wag
   would answer with the question that stopped all
   complaints: Don't you know there's a war on?
   
   Of course, they knew. There was no way to escape the
   war. It was everywhere. Newspaper headlines screamed of
   battles. Factory walls howled wartime slogans: "Loose
   Lips Sink Ships!" and "We Can Do It!"
   
   Ads touted even the most peaceful of products as weapons
   of war: Pepsi provides energy to defense workers:
   "American energy will win!"  Soft-Tuff Scot paper towels
   prevent flu outbreaks in defense plants!  Ads for Flit
   bug spray showed a toy soldier zapping Hitler, Tojo and
   Mussolini: "Flit Gives 'Em the Blitz!"
   
   Pop culture, too, was conscripted into wartime
   service. "What America needs today is a good 5-cent war
   song," said Rep. J. Parnell Thomas.  "The nation is
   literally crying for a good, peppy marching song,
   something with plenty of zip, ginger and fire."
   
   Within weeks, America's songwriters responded with "Taps
   for the Japs," "You're a Sap, Mr Jap" and "Goodbye Mama,
   I'm Off to Yokohama."  Irving Berlin, author of "God
   Bless America," turned out a rousing ditty called "I Paid
   My Income Tax Today."
   
   Meanwhile, the motion picture industry took out full-page
   ads to explain the wartime role of movies: "Just as it is
   the job of some industries to provide the implements that
   will keep 'em flying, keep 'em rolling and keep 'em
   shooting, so it is the job of the Motion Picture Industry
   to keep 'em smiling."
   
   They kept 'em smiling with so many patriotic movies that,
   by Memorial Day of 1942, Bette Davis was bored silly.
   
   "Right now, there are too many 'message' pictures," she
   said. "Also, there are too many war and Nazi
   pictures. It's sex -- or at least a reasonable facsimile
   thereof -- that the public wants."
   
   Women in Wartime
   
   The story swept across America in March 1942, spread by
   people who swore it was witnessed by a friend or a
   relative or a friend's relative:
   
   This woman's sitting on a bus, talking, and she says, "My
   husband has a better job than he ever had and he's making
   more money." Then she says, "So I hope the war lasts a
   long time."
   
   Another woman hears that and she gets up and slaps the
   first woman.  She says, "That is for my son who was
   killed at Pearl Harbor." Then she slaps her again and
   says, "This is for my boy in the Philippines."
   
   The story was reported as fact in several newspapers and
   as a rumor in Time magazine. It may never have happened
   but, as historian William Manchester later wrote, "its
   widespread acceptance told wartime America something
   about itself: For tens of millions, the war boom was in
   fact a bonanza, a Depression dream come true, and they
   felt guilty about it."
   
   By then, the war was pumping $300 million a day into the
   U.S. economy.  It gave thousands of Americans, including
   many black Americans, the first decent jobs they'd ever
   had. The war did what the New Deal never could: It ended
   the Depression.
   
   "We are the only nation in this war," observed
   broadcaster Edward R.  Murrow, "that has raised its
   standard of living."
   
   With millions of men off fighting, many of America's new
   jobs went to women. More than 250,000 worked in defense
   plants and thousands more poured into Washington to
   become "government girls" -- clerks and typists in the
   expanding war bureaucracy.
   
   They had money to spend but not much to spend it
   on. There was a shortage of nylon stockings, so they
   painted fake seams down the backs of their legs with an
   eyebrow pencil. There was a shortage of men, too, so they
   sang along with a popular song called "They're Either Too
   Young or Too Old."
   
   The presence of so many unattached women scared some
   men. Rep. Earl Wilson suggested a 10 o'clock curfew for
   the "government girls." His suggestion was met with a
   barrage of fire from Washington's female workers.
   
   "No congressmen can tell me when I should go to bed," one
   told a reporter.
   
   The war, as Wilson soon learned, was liberating American
   women.
   
   Breaking the Cease-Fire
   
   On the day after Pearl Harbor, pundits, politicians and
   editorial writers across America solemnly announced that
   the time for national unity had arrived and the era of
   petty partisan bickering was over.
   
   It was inspiring. It was uplifting. It lasted about a
   month.
   
   At a press conference in January, FDR launched into a
   rambling denunciation of the rich of Washington --
   "people who live in 20-room mansions on Massachusetts
   Avenue." He called them "parasites" and hinted that the
   feds might confiscate their mansions for the war effort.
   
   "I hope Cissy won't take that personally," he added. Then
   he said, "I hope she will."
   
   He was referring to Cissy Patterson, owner of the
   right-wing Washington Times-Herald, who lived in a
   Massachusetts Avenue mansion with more than 20 rooms. She
   did take it personally, and her paper charged that
   Washington's real parasites were "the New Deal
   bureaucrats and bubble-headed social engineers intent on
   bringing socialism to America."
   
   So much for national unity. Soon, partisan bickering,
   also known as democracy, was back with a vengeance as
   pols battled over everything from the poll tax to the
   fate of the New Deal. Time magazine described the
   cacophony over the problems of war production:
   
   "Everybody blamed somebody else. Assistant Attorney
   General Thurman Arnold blamed 'monopoly.' The pinko
   Nation and New Republic blamed capitalism in
   general. Columnist Westbrook Pegler blamed CIO strikes.
   . . . Anti-New Dealers blamed New Dealers and vice
   versa. Congressmen blamed the OPM and vice versa."
   
   The American people, busy collecting scrap metal and
   saving bacon fat for the war effort, watched this
   bickering with their usual cheerful chagrin.
   
   "It is proper and seemly to save fat for Uncle Sam," a
   Manhattanite wrote in a letter to the New York Daily
   News, "but I don't think we need fear any real fat
   shortage. If we actually get hard-pressed, we can always
   fall back on the greatest fat concentration in human
   history. This huge resource is stored up in Washington,
   under the hats of assorted politicians and blunderers who
   are messing things up with such conspicuous success."
   
   Caustic, quarrelsome and lovably loopy, the world's
   greatest democracy marched off to war.
   
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