At Dawn We Slept: The Untold Story of Pearl Harbor

So Forrestal turned to Vice Admiral H. Kent Hewitt, who conducted the supplemental inquiry from May 15 to July 11, 1945. Principally it delved into the everlasting “winds” hassle and considered fresh information concerning the Japanese side which had become available after the Navy Court of Inquiry disbanded. Hewitt was not one of the admirals, such as Halsey, who captured the public imagination, no doubt in part because of his serious, calm personality. During World War II he made a splendid record in amphibious operations. In 1945 he became the commander of the U.S. Eighth Fleet with the rank of full admiral. He knew something about the problems of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, for he had commanded Cruiser Division Eight at the time it transferred with other of Kimmel’s ships to the Atlantic in May 1941.² ^* Obviously Forrestal had not dumped this amplifying inquiry into the lap of just any admiral who happened to be available.

Kimmel kept a wary eye on this investigation before and during its progress. On May 8 he requested Forrestal’s permission to be present at Hewitt’s sessions; “to have counsel, to introduce, examine and cross-examine witnesses; to introduce matter pertaining to the examination; and to testify or declare” in his own behalf. The secretary replied in part on May 15:

It was decided that the further investigation . . . could be more expeditiously performed if it were conducted without the assistance of those who were designated as interested parties by the Court of Inquiry, and that the best interests of all concerned would be served by the prompt completion of the investigation. . . . Accordingly, I believe that I must refuse your request. Of course, you may testify before Admiral Hewitt to any facts which you have not previously presented, whether it be at his request or on your own initiative.⁴

Thus, Forrestal left the door slightly ajar. His reasoning made considerable sense. If Kimmel did not take advantage of the opportunity to bring forward facts to which he had not previously testified, he tacitly admitted that he had none to present. And if Forrestal accorded Kimmel full rights as an “interested party,” in justice he must include the other “interested parties,” Stark and Bloch. This would result in a duplicatory rather than supplemental investigation.

Hewitt “would have been happy to have him [Kimmel] appear, but Forrestal himself ruled against it.” Hewitt did not consider himself “in a position to argue with the Secretary of the Navy about it.” He would have done so had he believed the matter to be of sufficient importance. But he did not. He had read “very thoroughly” all the records of the previous investigations and did not see how Kimmel “could add anything” to this testimony.⁶

Hewitt had as his counsel John F. Sonnett, special assistant to the secretary of the navy. Later Forrestal described him as “painstaking, careful and completely loyal [Forrestal’s italics].” The secretary informed President Truman that his report on the Navy court “was very largely based” on Sonnett’s research.⁷

Hewitt interviewed thirty-seven witnesses and bore down heavily on Intelligence, questioning such key personnel as Wilkinson, McCollum, Kramer, Rochefort, Safford, Layton, and Mayfield as well as a number of small fish in the intelligence and communications ponds. Twenty-one of Hewitt’s witnesses appeared before no other Pearl Harbor investigative body. These included Captain Outerbridge, former skipper of the destroyer Ward, and Dorothy Edgers, who translated the controversial “Kita” message of December 3 containing Kuehn’s complicated code. In particular, Lieutenant Colonel William F. Friedman, who contributed so much to the breaking of the Japanese Purple code, testified only to Hewitt and the later Clarke inquiry. Thus, the Hewitt investigation brought to light some excellent material on intelligence and added to the growing volume of evidence about Pearl Harbor.

Hewitt opened his inquiry in the Office of the General Board of the Navy Department in Washington on Monday, May 15, 1945. The next day he heard McCollum, one of the two witnesses he had been specifically directed to interview. McCollum explained that by November 1941 the Navy was “almost wholly dependent upon radio intelligence” for the location of Japanese forces.⁸ Therefore, when the Japanese Navy changed its call signals, this caused McCollum and his associates much concern, for they interpreted the change “as a possible indication of action to come.” The Intelligence unit at Hawaii had the same information as it had in the Navy Department on this score.⁹

McCollum lent no support to the idea of receipt of a “winds execute” involving the United States. After the attack “a dispatch was translated which indicated war with England.”¹⁰

Safford appeared before Hewitt with a persecution complex in full bloom. On Friday, May 11, Sonnett met with Safford, asked him “many questions,” and discussed discrepancies between Safford’s testimony and that of other witnesses. Safford seemed to distrust Sonnett from this initial encounter.¹¹

Hewitt asked the questions when Safford first testified at his inquiry. Safford continued to insist there had been a “winds execute,” and he gave the names of a number of people who he claimed had seen it. He remembered “that all hands had been very nervous about our ability to receive this ‘winds’ execute when it should come in, because we were not certain of the power or the frequency, of the time of anything. . . .” He was full of satisfaction that despite the difficulties, his people “hadn’t missed it. We had done our part properly.”¹² This rather touching pride of accomplishment may help explain why Safford clung tenaciously to his story. How could he concede that all that skill and dedication had been of little or no value?

The obvious witness to follow Safford was Kramer, whom Safford constantly quoted. Sure enough, Kramer appeared on Tuesday, May 22. But time had modified his memory: “I am now at least under the impression that the message referred to England and possibly the Dutch rather than the United States, although it may have referred to the United States, too.”¹³

Hewitt finished his first inquiries in Washington on Friday, May 25, and moved with his assistants to Pearl Harbor. There he set up shop in the Visiting Flag Officers’ Office at Pacific Fleet Headquarters. Whereas Hewitt had done the questioning in Washington, Sonnett picked up the ball at Pearl Harbor. The first witness, appearing on May 29 and 30, was Layton. As had McCollum, he stated that the change in Japan’s call signs on November 1 and again on December 1 “indicated progressive steps in preparing for active operations on a large scale.”¹⁴ This was important because it proved beyond question that the Hawaiian commands had not existed in cloistered withdrawal from the world, helplessly dependent upon Washington for all information on developments in the Pacific. Instead, they had at their disposal vital intelligence pointing to a major Japanese armed venture in the near future.

Hewitt’s second “must” witness, Admiral Wilkinson, former director, ONI, came up for questioning on Tuesday, June 5. His testimony made it quite clear that his office had been more or less shunted onto a siding when it came to high-level activities other than intelligence gathering. Responsibility for dissemination of information to the Pacific Fleet “was never fully determined. We issued the reports and the bi-weekly summary of the situation, but I was told that the deductions of future movements were the function of War Plans rather than of Intelligence . . .” explained Wilkinson. “My understanding at the time was, and still is, that I would report to War Plans and the Chief of Naval Operations the latest operational information deduced from all sources and that they would forward to the fleet such items as they felt should be so forwarded.”¹⁵

Wilkinson was very vague about the “winds” problem. He did not recall who had told him about December 7 that an “execute” came in. “I recall some mention of it, but not until after the attack, but I no longer attributed importance to it since the overt act had occurred.”¹⁶

Hewitt and his colleagues wound up their questioning in Hawaii on June 8 and spent the next day interrogating at San Francisco’s Federal Building. On Tuesday. Tune 19, the inquiry was back in the General Board Offices in Washington. There on Friday, June 22, Safford made his second appearance, with Sonnett doing the questioning. Little of fresh interest emerged.¹⁷

On Friday, July 6, Kramer was back again, with Sonnett questioning. Kramer left matters in a rather unsatisfactory state. He neither totally contradicted Safford’s story nor unequivocally supported it. According to Kramer, some sort of message had come in, but he could not pinpoint its nature exactly.¹⁸

The last witness before Hewitt was Safford, returning for a third appearance on July 11. This day’s questioning dealt primarily with the “hidden code” message received on the morning of December 7. Safford never muted his hostility toward Sonnett.¹⁹ Later he told the congressional committee that Sonnett tried to make him change his testimony and to convince him that he was “suffering from hallucinations.” Sonnett crisply labeled this charge “nonsense.” He denied any effort on the part of himself or anyone else connected with the Hewitt inquiry to persuade Safford or any other witness to change his testimony.²⁰

In later years Hewitt remarked, “Secretary Forrestal had some very set ideas . . . and he wanted me to find things which I couldn’t find and didn’t find. I think he was disappointed that I didn’t make a report in accordance with some of his ideas.” Regrettably Hewitt cited no specifics.²¹ Actually, whenever Forrestal’s long endorsement to the Navy court’s and Hewitt’s reports noted differences between the two, in general he agreed with Hewitt.²²

Hewitt’s report boils down to twenty-nine conclusions. The principal difference between them and those of the Navy court is that Hewitt could admit that Navy personnel had made mistakes. He paid just tribute to Kimmel as having been “energetic, indefatigable, resourceful, and positive in his efforts to prepare the Fleet for war.”²³ But he could not completely exonerate his friend. Despite Stark’s “unfortunate” failure to communicate to Kimmel “important information which would have aided him [Kimmel] materially in fully evaluating the seriousness of the situation,” Hewitt believed Kimmel “did have sufficient information in his possession to indicate that the situation was unusually serious. . . .”²⁴

Balancing Safford’s testimony against that of other witnesses, Hewitt decided that “no message was intercepted prior to the attack which used the code words relating to the United States.”²⁶

After reading Hewitt’s report, Gatch seems to have begun to back down a bit from his intensely pro-Kimmel attitude. In his second endorsement to King, dated August 10, 1945, he noted that “the responsible officers” had “failed to exercise the discernment and judgment to be expected from officers occupying their positions,” in particular “their failure to appreciate, from the information available to them, that Pearl Harbor was a likely target for aerial attack and their failure to take the necessary steps to prevent or minimize such a surprise attack.”²⁷

He remarked that Kimmel and Short, having “entertained the same fallacious views,” would only have reinforced these errors through more contacts. He did not believe there was “sufficient evidence to warrant conviction of any of the officers concerned of any offense known to naval law.” It would be impossible to prove either neglect of duty or culpable inefficiency “as the acts of omission of these officers do not rise above the status of errors of judgment.” Still, he believed the Navy “morally obligated to order Admiral Kimmel tried by court martial” should Kimmel insist.²⁸ By third endorsement dated August 12, 1945, King concurred in general with Hewitt’s findings and with Gatch’s recommendations.²⁹

Kimmel came to feel much animosity toward Hewitt; but many years later he decided that he had misjudged him, and he was big enough to admit it to Hewitt in writing. Nothing could exceed the cordiality with which Hewitt received Kimmel’s “welcome letter.”³⁰ Thus, in their twilight years these two admirals relaunched their friendship in sunny waters.

In evaluating the findings of the Navy court and Hewitt’s investigation, Forrestal reached a stern decision: Stark and Kimmel, “particularly during the period from 27 November to 7 December, 1941, failed to demonstrate the superior judgment for exercising command commensurate with their rank and assigned duties.” Accordingly he directed that neither should hold any position in the Navy requiring “the exercise of superior judgment.”³¹ Thus, Forrestal gave Stark no such support as Stimson had given Marshall.

Stimson was even less happy with the Army board than Forrestal was with the Navy court. He decided to continue his inquiry “until all the facts are made as clear as possible and until the testimony of every witness in possession of material facts can be obtained. . . .” Behind this cautiously worded statement was Safford’s testimony. He had mentioned a number of officers who should be able to shed light on the “winds execute” message. Obviously someone from the Army should talk with the Army people involved.

Clearly, for the entire board to reconduct the hearings would be impractical. Yet someone would have to do the job. Stimson settled upon Major Henry C. Clausen, assistant recorder of the Army board. To the congressional committee, Clausen modestly stated that the Army had selected him from among those connected with the board “because I was the fellow they could spare the most.”³³ It is unlikely this was the only reason Stimson tabbed him. The secretary had an excellent eye for a good man and could recognize efficiency when he saw it. Clausen had worked his way through high school and law school and practiced for a number of years in California. In June 1942 he volunteered for the Army, which sent him as a captain to The Judge Advocate General Department, where he remained for more than three years. Clausen’s judicious gaze reflected the astute lawyer which he was. Something in his eyes also revealed a touch of the mystic, a quality which led him to become a deeply committed Freemason of the thirty-third Degree.³⁴

In many ways Clausen’s investigation paralleled Hewitt’s: Clausen was to concern himself principally with the Army; Hewitt, with the Navy. They could interrogate each other’s people if the lines crossed.³⁵ To be certain that his precept gave him all the authority he would need, Clausen himself wrote his enabling memorandum, which Stimson signed. This document could scarcely have been broader. Not only did it require witnesses to answer Clausen’s questions, but it also directed them to volunteer any pertinent information they might have. Moreover, it specifically overrode any existing security directives so that Clausen could receive copies of any documents he might require.³⁶

Clausen consulted in a general way with Harvey Bundy, Stimson’s special assistant, about “the most feasible way of getting the facts in an accurate, objective and impartial method. . . .” Clausen had “always liked the way the FBI would get the statements from the witnesses,” then examine them on the basis of their statements. So he and Bundy agreed that he should “receive the evidence in the form of affidavits.”³⁷

This mission aroused considerable subsequent suspicion. But regardless of retrospective likes and dislikes, Clausen traveled more than 55,000 miles by air from November 23, 1944, to September 12, 1945, interviewing ninety-two people, forty-three of whom testified before him. Seven more gave him signed statements. Of these, thirty are not on record before any other investigation. These range from MacArthur to Chief Ship’s Clerk Theodore Emmanuel, who maintained the telephone tap on the Japanese consulate in Honolulu.³⁸

As a result, a veritable harvest of intelligence material poured out of the Clausen transcript like fruits from a cornucopia: Hawaiian Department G-2 “Estimates of the Situation”; military attaché reports; dozens of valuable intercepts; FBI reports; current documentation concerning the Japanese consulate at Honolulu, replete with information about the espionage activities therein; data about Kuehn and his spying for Japan.

Meanwhile, another Army inquiry was under way, “pursuant to oral instructions of the Chief of Staff, U.S. Army.” From September 14 to 16, 1944, and again from July 13 to August 4, 1945, Colonel Carter W. Clarke checked up on matters “concerning handling of certain Top Secret documents.” At the time Clarke was deputy chief of the Military Intelligence Service.⁴⁰ Marshall ordered this investigation at the recommendation of Major General Clayton Bissell, the G-2. There was “so much confusion over the handling of the records and what the records were with regard to the time of receipt, transmission and so forth, that he thought it was advisable to have an investigation to reduce this down to as exact a statement as they could get. . . .”⁴¹

Stimson’s diary entry for May 18, 1944, indicates that certain rumors had reached the State Department and the Congress concerning handling of Army records:

Senator Styles Bridges of New Hampshire came to ask about the destruction of records by our G-2. . . . The Senators have gotten worried for fear we are destroying records. It is a ridiculous thing. All that we were doing was to be cleaning up the old records of G-2, none of which were complete and which were very greatly encumbering the work of the Bureau.

Stimson called in McNarney, and they satisfied Bridges, who had come “in a friendly way” and would “help against the Senators who might otherwise have blatted about it to the press.” Of course, such periodic weedings were absolutely necessary if the nation’s defense forces were not to founder in a sea of paper. But this incident might have aroused suspicion in quarters ready and eager to be suspicious.

With the help of the inquiry’s counsel, Lieutenant Colonel Ernest W. Gibson, Clarke conducted his sessions rather informally, some in round-table style. Nevertheless, “All the testimony taken was stenographically reported and transcribed.” He interviewed twelve witnesses, including Miles and Bratton. The latter’s testimony throws much light on his own position, his relationship to Magic, and the handling of the Magic material. Clarke’s inquiry also contributes to an understanding of what went on in the War Department on the morning of December 7, 1941.

Kimmel watched all developments concerning Pearl Harbor with a jaundiced eye. Convinced of his own innocence, he lived, worked, and planned with unremitting, almost obsessed persistence for the day of complete vindication. Both he and Short regarded the prospect of eventual court martial as much less a threat than a promise. They would have welcomed the opportunity to confront a clear-cut issue and put their case to a jury of their peers.⁴³ But Magic held both of them locked behind an invisible barrier. After the service investigations Kimmel and Short must have understood perfectly why courts martial were out of the question until the conflict had ended. When they joined their country’s service, they fully realized that they might be called upon to die for it. One might have expected them to shoulder the temporary burden of full blame as their silent contribution to victory.

But Kimmel was no willing sacrificial lamb. As keenly as a frontiersman scouting for game, he watched for any opportunity to state his case. On March 31, 1945, his searchlight eye discovered on page 5 of the New York Herald Tribune a small Associated Press dispatch headed “Military Secrets Bill Offered.” Datelined the previous day from Washington, it read:

A penalty of $10,000 or ten years in prison could be imposed for disclosure of state or military secrets under a bill introduced today by Senator Elbert D. Thomas, Democrat of Utah. The bill would apply to citizens of this or a foreign country who divulged, without permission of the department or agency head, any information regarding codes, coding methods, coded material, or the design or use of military equipment.

This seemingly innocuous proposal rang shrill alarm bells in Kimmel’s alert mind.⁴⁴ It so happened that in Washington service scuttlebutt had reached Safford’s ears that “this bill would block any court martial of Kimmel and Short, and that was its purpose.” Immediately following Pearl Harbor, Safford “had been very bitter against Admiral Kimmel.” He thought that the proposed warning which McCollum had prepared on December 4, 1941, had gone to Kimmel. Safford “could not understand how anybody, with the receipt of that information could not have been completely ready for the attack on Pearl Harbor, in fact with his fleet at sea, and Pearl Harbor just an empty nest.”

After learning that Kimmel had never received the message, Safford believed that he had done the admiral an injustice and wanted to do “something to make amends.” With all the force of his intense nature, Safford swung to the other extreme. He became a fervent supporter of Kimmel’s and almost obsessively suspicious of Washington, especially of Stimson and Marshall. So he tipped off Lavender to the gossip about this legislation,⁴⁵ officially designated Senate Bill 805, Seventy-ninth Congress, First Session.

Kimmel immediately mailed the Herald Tribune article to Rugg in Boston for investigation. A few days later, when Kimmel was in Washington, Rugg telephoned him that the Senate had passed the bill on April 9. “I was desperate,” the admiral later wrote Harry E. Barnes, “because if this bill became a law we would have been able to get nothing about the Japanese intercepts in the public record.”⁴⁶

In anxious haste Kimmel communicated with a number of his supporters in Congress. He learned that the Senate had passed the bill while Ferguson was in the Caribbean area. Ferguson explained that “he required a unanimous consent for the Senate to reexamine and revote the bill. He was not prepared to offer the required amendments, either to render it innocuous or defeat it, and he therefore contented himself with delay until he could get additional ammunition.”

Pending action upon Ferguson’s application, the legislation would not go before the House. “Apparently most of the Military Affairs Committee of the House are out of Washington,” Kimmel wrote Rugg, “so there will be a respite before the Bill is acted upon unless the agency which has so far succeeded in railroading this measure through is equally as active as it has been.” In an attempt “to forestall this contingency,” Kimmel met with the Washington Post’s publisher, Eugene Meyer; the chief editorial writer, whose name Kimmel could not recall; and the managing editor, Alexander F. Jones. The admiral

pointed out to them that the press was very much interested in this Bill, that if it became a law the press, the radio commentators and columnists could not publish anything unless they determined that it had never been coded or until they got a clearance from the head of the department who had placed the matter in code. In other words, the government will establish a complete censorship over everything that the press did.

After examining the document, Jones remarked “that if this Bill becomes a law every columnist, including Drew Pearson, will be in jail.” Kimmel rejoined rather acidly that he thought “that was the only good feature contained in the bill.” Despite Kimmel’s low opinion of columnists, Meyer and his associates were grateful to the admiral for calling the legislation to their attention. Kimmel informed Rugg, “This Bill had entirely escaped the notice of the press in Washington, or at least the implications and the provisions of the Bill had not been understood.” The admiral credited the publicity which followed his tip-off to the press with the bill’s delay and eventual defeat in the House.⁴⁷

If Green intended to reassure Short, he did not succeed. At this time Short labored under a number of misapprehensions which contributed to his exceeding bitterness toward Washington. One of these was the nature of the alleged “winds execute.” Short noted: “On December the 5th, 1941, Tokyo broadcast the message, ‘East Winds Rain.’ In terms of the code this meant an attack on Pearl Harbor.” With such notions spooking about his head, it is not surprising that Short believed that the “missing evidence would have placed the responsibility on the White House, and the State, War and Navy Departments.” So Short was not disposed to take SB-805 in stride. To his thinking, it “was intended to stifle the Press and hobble Congress. . . . This resolution would have prevented Admiral Kimmel or me or any official who had had access to code messages from testifying in regard to events leading up to the attack at Pearl Harbor.”⁴⁹

In Washington matters were working toward a climax of a very different nature. Summoned to the White House at 1746 on April 12, 1945, Stimson and the rest of the Cabinet received word of the death of their President at Warm Springs, Georgia.⁵⁰ Roosevelt’s passing was a stunning shock for the country. This strong, elusive, debonair, maddening President had been in office for three full terms and part of a fourth term. Naturally his successor was the subject of much curious, rather dubious, even somewhat resentful speculation. Few could have predicted the special place Harry S. Truman would enjoy in American hearts and history. Under his guidance the European conflict ended and the war against Japan thundered toward atomic climax. But the nation had by no means forgotten the unfinished business of Pearl Harbor.

Truman favored “complete and full disclosure” and at first Forrestal leaned toward that view. At his request Truman held a conference on the morning of August 29 with many representatives of the War and Navy departments. Apparently Forrestal had pulled back from full disclosure; now he feared that they were “being stampeded in taking action without due consideration.” He worried that release of the Navy report, especially King’s and his own endorsements, “would tend to prejudice public opinion against Kimmel and might accordingly make more difficult his vindication by general court martial.” But Truman wanted the reports released.⁵¹

Initial reaction to the reports appears to have been virtually unanimous. Editors and officeholders of whatever political persuasion chorused that the full truth had eluded the investigators. It could be found—if at all—only by congressional inquiry or by courts martial.⁵³ This time, however, a different spirit pervaded the cries for military trials than had animated those following the Roberts Commission’s findings. The Congress and the press wanted justice rather than vengeance.

The Chicago Tribune took issue with Truman’s judgment that “the country is as much to blame as any individual. . . .” An extremely critical editorial ended with this ominous promise: “TRIBUNE readers are going to know all about Pearl Harbor before we are thru sic. They will know even if readers of other newspapers don’t.”⁵⁴

Demands mounted for an end to ambiguity. The documents published had not included the testimony which is available today in the Pearl Harbor documentation; they were only the summarizing reports. Having no way to determine for themselves the logic of the findings, readers naturally wondered how the two inquiries could have produced such different results. The Navy court censured no one except Stark, only mildly at that; the Army board blamed nearly everybody in sight. No wonder that Americans, like Goethe, called for more light. The Honolulu Advertiser expressed its dissatisfaction in an excellent editorial:

The reader is struck by what seems an amazing number of contradictions and quick dismissal of points that appear to lend themselves to deeper and more searching scrutiny. The conclusions . . . are far from satisfactory. They are not clear-cut. They contain innuendos against men, yet they neither condemn nor exonerate them. . . .

The thinking, except in a few places, was sloppy. . . . Such untidiness of national mind is what today prompts the call for a scapegoat. But we want no crucifixions. We want the truth, straight and clear and no double talk. Admiral Kimmel and General Short should have their day in court.⁵⁵

That “agitation” had been inevitable. The investigations following the Roberts Commission shared one fundamental weakness: All were entirely military, hence open to charges of special pleading and of personal bias. Roosevelt had appointed the Roberts Commission; therefore, all these investigative bodies had been instruments of the executive branch. To balance the scales of justice, one thing remained—an all-out investigation by a joint committee of the Congress.

CHAPTER 76

“WE WANT THE TRUTH”