"November fifteenth," Truman said. "Sooner if you can do it."

While the fighting would doubtless be raging during the Christmas season, the president didn't want an invasion too close to that date, Marshall knew. He would expedite the resupply of the forces on Okinawa even if it meant accepting the risk of running short at some time during the campaign.

"Now, do you have any other bad news for me?"

"Sir, it is highly unlikely that we will use atomic bombs during or after the invasion."

"What now?" This was too much. Were there any uses for that weapon?

"Sir, we no longer believe it is a viable tactical weapon for use against Japan in either Olympic or Coronet."

Truman looked at Marshall in disbelief. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Mr. President, the radiation threat is too great to be ignored. We had naively thought that we could use A-bombs to blast our way through Jap frontline defenses and push our men on into the interior of Kyushu and elsewhere. Now it turns out that our boys would not be able to go through those areas because of lingering radiation, which is still causing people in Japan to sicken and die. Further, the mushroom cloud itself is an uncontrollable variable that could easily sweep over our men and ships, causing great harm, even deaths. The prevailing winds over Kyushu blow from the north to the south in the winter. Therefore, any atomic cloud would be swept over the beaches and out to sea, and possibly over our fleet. Our men would be contaminated with falling radioactive dust, rain, and debris. The ships can simply be hosed down by properly dressed personnel, but the men on the beaches would have no such option.

"Sir, the scientists are going to detonate at least a couple of our bombs and make controlled experiments regarding radiation. We simply need to know more about it before we continue. On the other hand, if the Japanese are so foolish as to mass their forces inland, then we will bomb them, but those are the only circumstances I can foresee in which we would use an atomic bomb."

The comment about the drifting mushroom cloud brought Truman back to grim and nearly forgotten memories of gas warfare in World War I. Back then a sudden change in wind direction could sweep a lethal cloud of gas back to its senders, rather than on to the enemy, and with devastating and unintended consequences.

"I understand what you're saying, General, but are you certain of the danger? After all, wasn't it just a while ago that everyone was so certain that radiation would dissipate quickly?"

"Yes, sir, but now we have more and better information. Our sources are from additional analysis of the area around Alamogordo where the first bomb was exploded, continued intercepted pleas for medical help from Japanese dealing with the problem, messages from neutral diplomats confirming the continuing radiation-related casualties, and, I'm pleased to say, information from an OSS operative we've managed to land on Kyushu."

Truman was intrigued by the last point. "You don't say? I thought both MacArthur and Nimitz didn't want anything to do with the OSS?"

"When confronted with the reality that only the OSS had someone who could infiltrate Japan, Admiral Nimitz changed his mind. I'm not certain MacArthur's been informed."

Truman smiled. "Probably better that he not be."

"Yes, sir. The OSS got a radio response from their man a couple of days ago. They'd just about given him up for lost after the sub sent to deposit him never returned and was presumed lost. He ' s been wandering about the Nagasaki area and making solid observations."

"How the hell is he getting away with that?" Truman puzzled, then it dawned on him. "Hell, he's a Jap, isn't he?"

"He's an American," Marshall corrected stiffly.

Truman flushed. "That's what I meant. A Japanese American. Good for him."

"Mr. President, Admiral Leahy and others are not unhappy that we may have no further use for the atomic bomb. They've felt all along that it is an immoral weapon that should never have been used on a civilian target, and that Christian nations should never wage war on civilians, whether nuclear or conventional. They feel we should never intentionally allow ourselves to sink to the level of the barbarians lest we become ones ourselves. I believe Admiral Leahy even used the word 'unchivalrous' in connection with the bomb."

Truman privately wondered just what about modern war Leahy actually considered chivalrous.

"General Marshall, I respect the opinions of Leahy and others, and I personally deplore the carnage the bombs have wrought. But we will use any weapons we have that will help end this war, General. I will not concern myself with what might be construed as being chivalrous."

"I understand, sir."

"I want this war over as soon as possible and with as few American casualties as possible."

Truman excused himself. He had a splitting headache and wanted to lie down. Then he wanted to make himself a stiff drink.

Paul Morrell's new fatigue uniform itched. After all the training he and the others had gone through before the typhoon, he was simply unused to the feel of something new. At least, he thought grimly, it stood a chance of not wearing out before the time came to actually land on Japan. He just hoped he'd last as long as the fatigues.

And that time, they were all convinced, was going to come soon, real soon. The army had made Herculean efforts to replace all their missing gear and had largely succeeded. Everywhere he looked, he could see nothing but new material- uniforms, vehicles, tents, and the miscellany of other supplies that an army needs. In a way, the typhoon had done them all a favor by forcing the army to replace worn gear. It had been astonishing how fast it had happened too. In only a couple of days, they were partially refitted and were completely reequipped within a week and a half. It made Paul wonder just how great were the warehouses and resources that could perform such a task so quickly and so efficiently.

Captain Ruger's company had gathered on a hill at the southernmost tip of Okinawa. It was becoming difficult to realize that a war had been fought there only a couple of short months before. Shell craters were being covered by grasses and young shrubs as nature sought to take back what was rightfully hers from the destructive interlopers. In a few years, visitors might have a hard time finding places where their sons had fought and died.

But not yet. Nature had not succeeded in entirely covering man's devastating tracks. In many places the walls of destroyed houses and flattened villages stood as stark reminders to the enormous conflict. Wrecked vehicles of all kinds, including a surprising number of tanks, lay about in disarray. This time, there were no Japanese bodies.

Captain Ruger stood on a rock to look over his now lean and grim-faced company. "Do you know where we are, men?"

The question was rhetorical and no one answered. For a moment, Paul was afraid of a smart-ass comment from one of his men, but none materialized. This was too obviously a place of agony, and the ground on which they stood had soaked up American blood as well as Japanese.

"This," Ruger continued, "is the spot where the last Japanese soldiers on Okinawa died. They were out of ammunition, starving, and many of them were sick or wounded, but they still fought on. They would not surrender."

The men understood. If the Japanese would let themselves be killed instead of surrendering on a crummy place like Okinawa, what the hell would they do on Kyushu? It was a sobering thought.

"Men, there are some who say the only reason the Japs all died is because they couldn't retreat any farther, and that, for them, this was the end of their world."

Paul looked down the hill where a deceptively calm Pacific sent low waves crashing against the rocks of the shore. The last Japs on Okinawa had died on a point of land that was directed south, and not even north toward Japan. Each agonizing moment and step had taken them farther away from their homeland. He wondered what their last thoughts were. Had they been proud and defiant at the end, or had they been too sick and scared even to think at all? What the hell would he think of under similar circumstances?