One False Step
Tokyo, Japan
1965 February 20
1:54 PM JSTGeneral Kuribayashi took a deep breath to steady his nerves. It was almost amusing, really, how much he felt like a disobedient schoolboy waiting for his father to return home. The feeling wasn't going away, though, so he took another breath and walked into the meeting. The Emperor hadn't yet arrived, so most of the attending officers and their staff were huddled in a few small groups in different parts of the room, chatting about fairly regular, everyday stuff. Only Tojo himself was alone, seated in his usual place to the right of the Emperor's seat. Kuribayashi spotted General Ushijima, evidently over his flu, engaged in an animated discussion with Admiral Mikawa; and Admiral Nagumo, off in one corner of the room, sullenly listening to something being whispered to him by an aide.
However, he did
not see Admiral Yamamoto.
This surprised him somewhat, because the Chief of the Navy General Staff was usually the first or second person to arrive to these meetings, often alongside Admiral Nagumo. But he wasn't present. Kuribayashi thought back to the discussions the two of them had had over the past week. He'd seen the old admiral just last night at his residence, and they'd confirmed their plans for today. His curiosity and apprehension got the better of him, and he walked over to Admiral Nagumo's corner. Nagumo's aide straightened at once and offered Kuribayashi a bow as he approached, which served the convenient purpose of alerting the partially paralyzed Navy Minister of his presence.
"Sir," Kuribayashi murmured, offering Nagumo a bow of his own, "I was wondering if you had heard from Admiral Yamamoto today. He is normally here by now, is he not?"
A brief flicker of emotion crossed Nagumo's face before he responded. "You have not heard, then?" he queried solemnly, "Admiral Yamamoto experienced a fatal heart attack early this morning. The Prime Minister plans to issue a public statement honoring his memory after the meeting is over."
Kuribayashi felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Yamamoto, dead? And on the very morning... no, he must not let his determination waver. Yamamoto had made that very clear. But without him, how...?
Some of what Kuribayashi was thinking must have shown on his face, because Nagumo reached out a fatherly hand and patted his arm. "We all miss him," Nagumo said quietly, "Some of us more than others, admittedly," he went on, with a glance at the now obviously arguing Mikawa and Ushijima, "He was a national hero, and I imagine the people will mourn along with us."
Kuribayashi shook his head experimentally, trying to clear it. This changed everything. Or... did it? It certainly explained the greater than usual number of staff, and Kuribayahi now spotted Admiral Ito Seiichi in the back of the room. Was he to be Yamamoto's successor, on the very day he died? But he didn't say any of this. "This is sad news," he said instead, "It also comes as something of a shock to me; I spoke to him just yesterday."
"As did I," Nagumo said, nodding, "I too was surprised by the suddenness of his passing. But there is nothing we can do to change the dictates of death."
"Too true," Kuribayashi said, nodding in his turn, and then fell silent. A moment later, the door at the far side of the room opened, and the Emperor walked in. Tojo stood at once, and the other senior officers moved to their positions around the table.
Kuriyabashi glanced at the Emperor's face, looking for some sign of his feelings, but his expression was impassive. The Emperor seated himself, and all of the officers followed suit, aside from Nagumo, by virtue of his wheelchair, and Tojo, who remained standing. And so one more weekly meeting of the General Headquarters began. Sure enough, Ito was present as Tojo's choice to replace Yamamoto, who had been "taken from us in the very peak of his honor". Kuribayashi wasn't quite sure what that was supposed to mean, but it certainly sounded impressive.
Of course, if his discussions with the man over the past week were any guide, it was also untrue.
Kuriyabashi waited until Tojo launched into yet another rant against Germany, then guestured surreptitiously behind his back, giving his prearranged signal. He felt rather than heard his aide, Colonel Takeda Goro, leave his place along the wall behind him, and leave the room. He met Nagumo's gaze just in time to catch a fleeting look of dawning comprehension, which the Hero of Midway quickly suppressed. Kuribayashi knew that now was the time, especially if Nagumo suspected something, and stood up before his own self-doubts could stop him.
"...And that is why-" Tojo broke off suddenly, mid-sentence, and stared at Kuribayashi. "What are you doing, General?" he demanded harshly, evidently still seething from Nagumo's interruption the previous meeting.
Confident that he had the attention of everyone in the room, Kuribayashi locked eyes with the irate Tojo. "Mr. Prime Minister," he said, loudly and clearly, as the door Colonel Takeda had left through opened and soldiers began filing in, "Your plans, your aggression, and your constant paranoia have brought this proud country to the brink of ruin. We spend far too much of Japan's wealth on your foreign adventures, decades after the end of the Greater East Asia War, and with little to show for it in terms of solid results."
"How dare-" Tojo began, but Kuribayashi cut smoothly across him.
"How many more Japanese youths must die in pursuit of unattainable glory for your empire-building experiment before you are satisfied?" Kuribayashi continued, "Enough is enough. You have betrayed our nation's values, and His Majesty's trust. You are no longer fit to lead Japan, and so it is my duty to relieve you from the responsibility of your office. To put it plainly, this is a coup."
There was immediate uproar in the conference room. The Emperor looked on with what seemed to be mild interest. Tojo spluttered incoherently, and Mikawa, Ito, and Ushijima sat stock-still in shock. The assembled aides and staff officers began shouting and struggling against the soldiers Kuribayashi had brought along to restrain them, obviously except for those loyal to himself and the late Yamamoto. And still the Emperor watched dispassionately, which was a problem, because without Imperial assent, Kuribayashi's coup would fail the moment he left the room.
But Nagumo tore Kuribayashi's attention away from the Emperor by smiling and raising his left hand. At his guesture, his aides and staff fell silent in evident confusion, and suddenly Kuribayashi understood. Yamamoto must have recruited him too. Quite abruptly, the balance of power was shifting away from Tojo. Ito turned in his seat toward the few of his own staffers that he had brought with him and silenced them with a look. Gradually, the din in the room ended, and all eyes turned toward the Emperor. For his part, the Emperor locked his gaze with Kuribayashi's, and and just looked at him for what seemed like an eternity.
Then he nodded once.
And with that simple motion, the entire course of Japanese history changed.
Tojo stood silently for a moment, and then collapsed into his chair, looking for all the world like an ancient and broken man. Mikawa and Ushijima stared at the Emperor, evidently unable to believe what had just happened. Ito wore an expression of relief, evidently in response to his split-second decision being validated. Nagumo grinned vindictively at Tojo. And Kuribayashi set to work transitioning Japan finally into the post-Tojo era. It was going to be a long day, and there would be many more even longer days ahead, but the deed was done.
Japan would see morning once more.