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Today in 1882, future US Navy Admiral Husband Edward Kimmel was born in Henderson, Kentucky. Kimmel gained notoriety for his role as the Commander of the Pacific Fleet at the time of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Today, the Kimmel family continues to fight for an accurate public accounting of his actions before and during that fateful day.
Husband Kimmel graduated from the US Naval Academy in 1904 and began a career that would span more than four decades. He served aboard several battleships, including service in the Atlantic during the First World War. He later commanded two destroyer divisions and the battleship USS New York. He had the honor of serving as an aide to the Assistant Secretary of Navy in 1915; that assistant secretary's name was Franklin Roosevelt.
Kimmel was promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral in 1937 and four years later, in February, 1941, he was given command of the Pacific Fleet. He gained a temporary promotion to the four stars of a full Admiral as the position demanded. He relieved Admiral James Richardson, whom President Roosevelt had fired due to the Admiral's opposition to moving the Pacific Fleet from California to Hawaii in the summer of 1940. Richardson believed that this move placed the fleet at undue risk. Pearl Harbor, he argued, did not have the facilities to fully support such an influx of ships. Furthermore, Richardson believed that Pearl Harbor could not be adequately defended against an air attack. His willingness to state his opinion as an experienced naval officer cost him his career. Admiral Kimmel understood the deficiencies of Pearl Harbor itself and the poor condition of the local defense. The War Department allocated 180 B-17 Flying Fortresses to the Hawaiian Department for long-range reconnaissance and anti-shipping functions, but they were slow in coming; by December, 1941, only 12 had arrived. Two weeks before the attack, the Chief of Naval Operations informed the Navy command in Hawaii that there were no additional planes available. Admiral Kimmel and his Army counterpart, Lt. General Walter Short, knew that an air attack on Pearl Harbor would be devastating, but their areas of responsibility were obviously not high on the priority list at the War Department.
On November 27, 1941, the Chief of Naval Operations sent Kimmel and other commanders in the Pacific the now-famous "war warning" message, in which he stated that negotiations with Japan were breaking down and that an offensive push by the Japanese military was expected within the next few days. This message is often cited as proof that Kimmel knew of an impending attack but did little to prepare for it. However, a closer look at the wording of the message shows that no one in the Navy Department expected an attack at Pearl Harbor; instead, the Japanese were expected to move against the Philippines (which they did) or other targets in the Southwest Pacific.
Admiral Kimmel assumed, as any commander would, that any intelligence information related to his command would be forwarded to him as soon as it was made available. This was not the case. While the US Navy had been reading most of the Japanese radio intercepts for months before Pearl Harbor, several vital messages were withheld from Kimmel for reasons which are still unknown. He was not told, for example, that in September, 1941, Tokyo had ordered its consul general in Honolulu to make a detailed report of the ships present in Pearl Harbor as well as their movements. After November 15, he was ordered to make such a report twice a week. This would have told Kimmel exactly what he needed to know: that the Japanese were certainly planning to hit Pearl Harbor. Information of this type would have allowed the Admiral to order the entire Pacific Fleet to sea from where it could have better defended against an air attack. As it was, the only capital ships at sea on the morning of December 7, 1941 were the Fleet's aircraft carriers.
The attack on Pearl Harbor was an unmitigated success for the Japanese Imperial Navy. The Pacific Fleet lost four battleships, three cruisers, three destroyers and two auxiliary ships along with nearly 200 aircraft; over 2400 Americans, both military and civilian, lost their lives. Admiral Kimmel was relieved of his command ten days after the attack. He reverted back to his permanent rank of Rear Admiral (contrary to popular myth, he was not demoted as a punishment) and was allowed to retire. His son, Manning, died during the war when the submarine he commanded struck a Japanese mine.
Kimmel spent the rest of his life defending his actions during the months leading up to the attack on Pearl Harbor. The Navy eventually pinned him with most of the blame for the outcome of the attack, a sting from which he never recovered. Edwin Latyon, Kimmel's chief intelligence officer, later related in his book about that attack: “Kimmel stood by the windows of his office at the submarine base, his jaw set in stony anguish. As he watched the disaster across the harbor unfold with terrible fury, a spent .50 caliber machine gun bullet crashed through the glass. It brushed the admiral before it clanged to the floor. It cut his white jacket and raised a welt on his chest. 'It would have been merciful had it killed me,' Kimmel murmured to his communications officer.”
Tomorrow night, we're going to delve a little more into Kimmel's actions before December 7th, 1941 and the information that Washington did and did not share with the two commanders in Hawaii. We're also going to look at the involvement of FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover in the post-attack investigation and see how the Kimmel family is continuing to fight to clear the late Admiral's name.
About Me
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Chester Nimitz Born, February 24, 1885
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Today in 1885, Chester William Nimitz was born in Fredericksburg, Texas. No one knew at the time that this boy from a small town far away from any large body of water would one day become indispensable in his role as a Fleet Admiral during the Second World War.
The United States Naval Academy was not young Nimitz’s first choice as a place to pursue a college education. He initially applied to West Point, but all the appointments for that year, 1901, had already been allocated. Learning of Nimitz’s desire to attend a service academy, Congressman James Slayden informed him that he still had one appointment left to the Naval Academy. Nimitz knew this was the only shot he was likely to get for continuing his education, so he applied for and earned the appointment. He graduated from the Academy in 1905 ranked seventh out of a class of 114.
Nimitz served his required two years at sea before being commissioned an Ensign in 1907. He served on a series of surface ships, from a battleship to a destroyer which he ran aground near a beach in the Philippines while he was conning the ship, earning him a letter of reprimand but not seriously damaging his career.
The beginning of 1909 saw a radical change in Nimitz’s career. In January he was assigned to the First Submarine Flotilla and was given command of it less than six months later. As a Lieutenant, Nimitz commanded a series of submarines, including the first USS Plunger, later known by the less-than-memorable designation A-1. The tiny vessel was, according to Nimitz, “a cross between a Jules Verne fantasy and a humpbacked whale”. The subs Nimitz commanded were far smaller and cruder than the fleet boats that would prove so devastating to Japanese shipping a generation later, but they provided invaluable experience. By the end of the First World War in 1918, Commander Nimitz was the Senior Member for the Navy’s Board of Submarine Design. He was considered by both his superiors and subordinates to be the service’s leading expert on submarine design and operations.
The inter-war years were busy ones for Nimitz as he held various commands both at sea and on land. While he remained involved in the submarine community, he also commanded cruiser and battleship divisions. It was during this time he lost part of one finger during an accident involving a diesel engine; he was able to keep the rest of the digit only because the machine was jammed by his Naval Academy ring. By the time the Second World War began in Europe in September, 1939, Rear Admiral Nimitz was the Navy’s Chief of the Bureau of Navigation.
Nimitz became a full Admiral soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor in December, 1941, skipping the three-star rank of Vice Admiral. He was selected to be Commander in Chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet, known in navy parlance as CinCPAC. In March, 1942, British and American war planners divided the Pacific theater of operations into three parts: the Southwest Pacific Area commanded by General Douglas MacArthur, the Southeast Pacific Area and the Pacific Ocean Areas, known as POA, an area that encompassed most of the Pacific Ocean minus the Philippines and New Guinea. Nimitz was given command of the POA in addition to his position as CinCPAC, two titles that he would carry for the rest of the war.
Nimitz went to war with the fleet he had until the forces he wished for were ready. Although the attack on Pearl Harbor had been psychologically devastating, the Navy’s Pacific Fleet remained a potent albeit under-equipped fighting force. Within days of the attack, the submarine force was underway from Hawaii and ports in Australia, hunting for Japanese merchantmen and warships. During the first year of the war, the men under Nimitz’s command had but five aircraft carriers at their disposal. At one point in November, 1942, there were only two operational carriers holding out against the Japanese fleet. But with these meager resources, the US Navy stopped a Japanese invasion of Port Moresby at the battle of Coral Sea and put the Japanese in a permanent defensive position at the battle of Midway.
Nimitz utilized an island-hopping strategy by which heavily fortified Japanese-held islands were bypassed when possible in favor of weakly defended locations. The defenders of the islands that were skipped over soon found themselves behind the American lines without hope of re-supply or rescue. Ten of thousands of Japanese soldiers were thus taken out of the war without a shot being fired at or by them.
In December, 1944, the grade of Fleet Admiral of the Navy was established by Congress. President Franklin Roosevelt promoted Admiral Nimitz the next day, making him a five-star admiral. Three other admirals were appointed to this rank that December; one more, Admiral Halsey, was given a fifth star immediately after the war. These promotions corresponded with five Army promotions to five-star rank at the same time.
On September 2nd, 1945, the Second World War came to an end with the formal surrender of the Japanese on board the battleship USS Missouri. Fleet Admiral Nimitz signed the instrument of surrender representing the United States. He returned to America soon thereafter and was promoted to Chief of Naval Operations in November, 1945. He served one two-year term at this post, during which time he oversaw the downsizing of the world’s largest navy to a fraction of its wartime size. He left the position in December, 1947, but since a five-star admiral is technically on active duty until his death, Nimitz never retired.
Chester Nimitz died on February 20th,1966 at the naval quarters on Yorba Buena Island in San Francisco Bay from complications related to a stroke and pneumonia. With him died the rank of Fleet Admiral, which is still listed as a valid grade, but can only be re-activated by an act of Congress. He left behind his wife, Catherine, and four children--- three daughters and a son. Chester, Jr. followed in his father’s footsteps by graduating from the Naval Academy in 1936 and serving in submarines before retiring as a Rear Admiral in 1957.
Today in 1885, Chester William Nimitz was born in Fredericksburg, Texas. No one knew at the time that this boy from a small town far away from any large body of water would one day become indispensable in his role as a Fleet Admiral during the Second World War.
The United States Naval Academy was not young Nimitz’s first choice as a place to pursue a college education. He initially applied to West Point, but all the appointments for that year, 1901, had already been allocated. Learning of Nimitz’s desire to attend a service academy, Congressman James Slayden informed him that he still had one appointment left to the Naval Academy. Nimitz knew this was the only shot he was likely to get for continuing his education, so he applied for and earned the appointment. He graduated from the Academy in 1905 ranked seventh out of a class of 114.
Nimitz served his required two years at sea before being commissioned an Ensign in 1907. He served on a series of surface ships, from a battleship to a destroyer which he ran aground near a beach in the Philippines while he was conning the ship, earning him a letter of reprimand but not seriously damaging his career.
The beginning of 1909 saw a radical change in Nimitz’s career. In January he was assigned to the First Submarine Flotilla and was given command of it less than six months later. As a Lieutenant, Nimitz commanded a series of submarines, including the first USS Plunger, later known by the less-than-memorable designation A-1. The tiny vessel was, according to Nimitz, “a cross between a Jules Verne fantasy and a humpbacked whale”. The subs Nimitz commanded were far smaller and cruder than the fleet boats that would prove so devastating to Japanese shipping a generation later, but they provided invaluable experience. By the end of the First World War in 1918, Commander Nimitz was the Senior Member for the Navy’s Board of Submarine Design. He was considered by both his superiors and subordinates to be the service’s leading expert on submarine design and operations.
The inter-war years were busy ones for Nimitz as he held various commands both at sea and on land. While he remained involved in the submarine community, he also commanded cruiser and battleship divisions. It was during this time he lost part of one finger during an accident involving a diesel engine; he was able to keep the rest of the digit only because the machine was jammed by his Naval Academy ring. By the time the Second World War began in Europe in September, 1939, Rear Admiral Nimitz was the Navy’s Chief of the Bureau of Navigation.
Nimitz became a full Admiral soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor in December, 1941, skipping the three-star rank of Vice Admiral. He was selected to be Commander in Chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet, known in navy parlance as CinCPAC. In March, 1942, British and American war planners divided the Pacific theater of operations into three parts: the Southwest Pacific Area commanded by General Douglas MacArthur, the Southeast Pacific Area and the Pacific Ocean Areas, known as POA, an area that encompassed most of the Pacific Ocean minus the Philippines and New Guinea. Nimitz was given command of the POA in addition to his position as CinCPAC, two titles that he would carry for the rest of the war.
Nimitz went to war with the fleet he had until the forces he wished for were ready. Although the attack on Pearl Harbor had been psychologically devastating, the Navy’s Pacific Fleet remained a potent albeit under-equipped fighting force. Within days of the attack, the submarine force was underway from Hawaii and ports in Australia, hunting for Japanese merchantmen and warships. During the first year of the war, the men under Nimitz’s command had but five aircraft carriers at their disposal. At one point in November, 1942, there were only two operational carriers holding out against the Japanese fleet. But with these meager resources, the US Navy stopped a Japanese invasion of Port Moresby at the battle of Coral Sea and put the Japanese in a permanent defensive position at the battle of Midway.
Nimitz utilized an island-hopping strategy by which heavily fortified Japanese-held islands were bypassed when possible in favor of weakly defended locations. The defenders of the islands that were skipped over soon found themselves behind the American lines without hope of re-supply or rescue. Ten of thousands of Japanese soldiers were thus taken out of the war without a shot being fired at or by them.
In December, 1944, the grade of Fleet Admiral of the Navy was established by Congress. President Franklin Roosevelt promoted Admiral Nimitz the next day, making him a five-star admiral. Three other admirals were appointed to this rank that December; one more, Admiral Halsey, was given a fifth star immediately after the war. These promotions corresponded with five Army promotions to five-star rank at the same time.
On September 2nd, 1945, the Second World War came to an end with the formal surrender of the Japanese on board the battleship USS Missouri. Fleet Admiral Nimitz signed the instrument of surrender representing the United States. He returned to America soon thereafter and was promoted to Chief of Naval Operations in November, 1945. He served one two-year term at this post, during which time he oversaw the downsizing of the world’s largest navy to a fraction of its wartime size. He left the position in December, 1947, but since a five-star admiral is technically on active duty until his death, Nimitz never retired.
Chester Nimitz died on February 20th,1966 at the naval quarters on Yorba Buena Island in San Francisco Bay from complications related to a stroke and pneumonia. With him died the rank of Fleet Admiral, which is still listed as a valid grade, but can only be re-activated by an act of Congress. He left behind his wife, Catherine, and four children--- three daughters and a son. Chester, Jr. followed in his father’s footsteps by graduating from the Naval Academy in 1936 and serving in submarines before retiring as a Rear Admiral in 1957.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Washington Monument Dedicated, February 21, 1885
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Today in 1885, the Washington Monument was dedicated in Washington, D.C. The giant obelisk is probably the best known of the United States Presidential Memorials, having been named in honor of George Washington, the nation's first President and leader of the Continental Army during the War for Independence.
The building of the structure that would become known as the Washington Monument was begun in 1848; the cornerstone of the monument was laid on July 4th of that year. The Washington National Monument Society, a group of citizens who raised the initial money for the construction, settled on a design for a giant obelisk surround by a circular colonnade. Had the monument been built to these plans, the finished product would have resembled the Jefferson Memorial with a giant Egyptian-like obelisk protruding from the top. The designer, chosen from among contestants in a design competition, was Robert Mills. While Mills’ design was incredible for its day, there was one problem: the Society had raised $87,000, but the finished structure would cost over $1 million.
Undeterred by this lack of funds, the Society decided to begin work with the money it had in the hopes that a partially finished monument would help them raise more money. This money ran out in 1854, but soon thereafter Congress appropriated $200,000 to the project. However, this money was withdrawn from the Society when members of the American Party (better known as the “Know-Nothings”), effectively took over the Society and began to build their anti-immigrant, anti-Catholic beliefs into the monument by refusing some of the stones donated by different states and foreign powers. The block of marble contributed by Pope Pius IX in the early 1850's was removed and purportedly thrown into the Potomac River.
Mismanagement by the hijacked Society and the Civil War brought construction to a halt for almost twenty years, until 1876. That year marked the centennial of the Declaration of Independence and Congress, feeling patriotic, once again granted $200,000 to the project. The obelisk had been stuck at 1/3 of its planned height for two decades and engineers were worried that the monument’s foundation was no longer stable. Studies were made and it was eventually decided to move on with the project.
Tastes in design had changed significantly in the 30 years since Mills had submitted his plans in the 1840’s. It was eventually decided to abandon the colonnades and build a simple obelisk shaped like those found in Egypt. When construction got underway again in 1879, the US Army Corps of Engineers was managing the project.
One of the initial challenges facing the Corps can still be seen today. The bottom third of the monument is lighter than the rest of the 40,000 ton structure. This is because the same quarry stones used in the initial construction beginning in 1848 could no longer be found a generation later.
Upon its completion in December, 1884, the Washington Monument was the world's tallest structure, a record that would stand for five years, when Paris' Eiffel Tower was completed.
The monument’s apex point is made of 100 ounces of aluminum, a metal that was almost unknown by people not familiar with metallurgy in the 19th century. It was placed there in December, 1884, over 35 years after the cornerstone was laid. The final monument was and is today 555ft 5 1/8 inches tall and 55ft 1 1/2 inches wide at the base, at least according to who you ask. These figures are the ones used by the National Park Service; others vary only because the aluminum pyramid at the top of the monument has been blunted by about a half inch by lightning strikes. Eight lightning rods were added in 1934, which extend six inches above the tip. Some documentation includes these rods in the height total. The walls of the monument become thinner as the obelisk grows taller. At the base, they are 15 feet thick at the base and only 18 inches thick at the observation level. In 2004, nearly 400,000 people visited the monument.
Today in 1885, the Washington Monument was dedicated in Washington, D.C. The giant obelisk is probably the best known of the United States Presidential Memorials, having been named in honor of George Washington, the nation's first President and leader of the Continental Army during the War for Independence.
The building of the structure that would become known as the Washington Monument was begun in 1848; the cornerstone of the monument was laid on July 4th of that year. The Washington National Monument Society, a group of citizens who raised the initial money for the construction, settled on a design for a giant obelisk surround by a circular colonnade. Had the monument been built to these plans, the finished product would have resembled the Jefferson Memorial with a giant Egyptian-like obelisk protruding from the top. The designer, chosen from among contestants in a design competition, was Robert Mills. While Mills’ design was incredible for its day, there was one problem: the Society had raised $87,000, but the finished structure would cost over $1 million.
Undeterred by this lack of funds, the Society decided to begin work with the money it had in the hopes that a partially finished monument would help them raise more money. This money ran out in 1854, but soon thereafter Congress appropriated $200,000 to the project. However, this money was withdrawn from the Society when members of the American Party (better known as the “Know-Nothings”), effectively took over the Society and began to build their anti-immigrant, anti-Catholic beliefs into the monument by refusing some of the stones donated by different states and foreign powers. The block of marble contributed by Pope Pius IX in the early 1850's was removed and purportedly thrown into the Potomac River.
Mismanagement by the hijacked Society and the Civil War brought construction to a halt for almost twenty years, until 1876. That year marked the centennial of the Declaration of Independence and Congress, feeling patriotic, once again granted $200,000 to the project. The obelisk had been stuck at 1/3 of its planned height for two decades and engineers were worried that the monument’s foundation was no longer stable. Studies were made and it was eventually decided to move on with the project.
Tastes in design had changed significantly in the 30 years since Mills had submitted his plans in the 1840’s. It was eventually decided to abandon the colonnades and build a simple obelisk shaped like those found in Egypt. When construction got underway again in 1879, the US Army Corps of Engineers was managing the project.
One of the initial challenges facing the Corps can still be seen today. The bottom third of the monument is lighter than the rest of the 40,000 ton structure. This is because the same quarry stones used in the initial construction beginning in 1848 could no longer be found a generation later.
Upon its completion in December, 1884, the Washington Monument was the world's tallest structure, a record that would stand for five years, when Paris' Eiffel Tower was completed.
The monument’s apex point is made of 100 ounces of aluminum, a metal that was almost unknown by people not familiar with metallurgy in the 19th century. It was placed there in December, 1884, over 35 years after the cornerstone was laid. The final monument was and is today 555ft 5 1/8 inches tall and 55ft 1 1/2 inches wide at the base, at least according to who you ask. These figures are the ones used by the National Park Service; others vary only because the aluminum pyramid at the top of the monument has been blunted by about a half inch by lightning strikes. Eight lightning rods were added in 1934, which extend six inches above the tip. Some documentation includes these rods in the height total. The walls of the monument become thinner as the obelisk grows taller. At the base, they are 15 feet thick at the base and only 18 inches thick at the observation level. In 2004, nearly 400,000 people visited the monument.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Auschwitz Liberated, January 27, 1945
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Today in 1945, the 322nd Infantry Division of the Soviet Red Army liberated 7,500 survivors of the Auschwitz concentration camp. Although the exact number will never be known, most historians agree that between 1.1 and 1.5 million human beings were murdered there.
Auschwitz was not a single camp, but a complex of 3 main camps and dozens of sub-camps located about 60 kilometers southwest of Krakow, Poland. Auschwitz I was the first camp built at the site, which had been a Polish Army barracks. The administration offices were located there and it was also the initial place of confinement for the first group of prisoners, Polish citizens who were sent there in June, 1940. Once Germany invaded the Soviet Union in May, 1941, Soviet POWs were sent to the camp as were German civilian criminals, homosexuals and anyone else who did not fit into the tight social constructs of the Nazis. By 1942, there were 20,000 prisoners in Auschwitz I. The entrance to the camp had a sign posted over it which read, in German, “work liberates” or “work sets us free”. Similar signs were displayed above many other concentration camp gates, but this was the first.
Auschwitz II, or Birkenau, is the camp that most people think of when they think of Auschwitz. Most of the people imprisoned her were guilty of nothing more than being Jewish. Auschwitz II was located about 3 kilometers from the first camp and was built during 1941. It was over 5 square kilometers in area and could hold up to 100,000 prisoners at a time. While forced labor went on in every part of the Auschwitz complex, Auschwitz II’s main purpose was, simply, extermination. By the spring of 1942, the camp had four large gas chambers capable of murdering 10,000 people at a time. The bodies were then cremated.
Auschwitz III and the other sub-camps were labor camps built to assist Germany industry. They produced many items for the war effort, always under the watchful eye of camp doctors who sent the weak and injured to Auschwitz II for extermination.
Most of the Jews, Poles and Roma who were sent to the camps arrived by train. For the first couple years of operation, the trains were emptied out at a nearby rail terminal and the prisoners were marched to the compound. In 1944, because of the high volume of people being sent there, the tracks were extended into the camps themselves.
Once at the camps, the prisoners were immediately divided into groups: those who would go to work, those who would be held for medical experimentation and those who would go straight to the gas chambers. Jews from all over Europe were victims of this horrible sorting: Hungary, Poland, France, the Netherlands, Greece, Monrovia, Belgium and other nations all saw people ripped from their homes and taken away, never to be seen again.
The liberation of the complex by the Red Army did not spell freedom for all the enslaved. The Soviet POWs held in Auschwitz I were either executed or sent to gulags in the Soviet Union with the accusation that they had conspired with the Nazis. The NKVD, or Soviet secret police, used the complex as a prison before turning it over to the Polish government, which eventually restored parts of the area.
There has been a great controversy over how much the Allies knew about the concentration camps. Photographs were taken of some of the camps by reconnaissance flights, but this was because most of them were near potential industrial targets. It is safe to say that, by 1944 at the latest, the Allies were well aware of Nazi Germany's intention to rid Europe of Jews and other grou considered undesirable. It has been argued that bombing the camps themselves would have killed many innocent people and done little to slow the genocide, but we will never know. What is certain is that we must never forget what happened.
Today in 1945, the 322nd Infantry Division of the Soviet Red Army liberated 7,500 survivors of the Auschwitz concentration camp. Although the exact number will never be known, most historians agree that between 1.1 and 1.5 million human beings were murdered there.
Auschwitz was not a single camp, but a complex of 3 main camps and dozens of sub-camps located about 60 kilometers southwest of Krakow, Poland. Auschwitz I was the first camp built at the site, which had been a Polish Army barracks. The administration offices were located there and it was also the initial place of confinement for the first group of prisoners, Polish citizens who were sent there in June, 1940. Once Germany invaded the Soviet Union in May, 1941, Soviet POWs were sent to the camp as were German civilian criminals, homosexuals and anyone else who did not fit into the tight social constructs of the Nazis. By 1942, there were 20,000 prisoners in Auschwitz I. The entrance to the camp had a sign posted over it which read, in German, “work liberates” or “work sets us free”. Similar signs were displayed above many other concentration camp gates, but this was the first.
Auschwitz II, or Birkenau, is the camp that most people think of when they think of Auschwitz. Most of the people imprisoned her were guilty of nothing more than being Jewish. Auschwitz II was located about 3 kilometers from the first camp and was built during 1941. It was over 5 square kilometers in area and could hold up to 100,000 prisoners at a time. While forced labor went on in every part of the Auschwitz complex, Auschwitz II’s main purpose was, simply, extermination. By the spring of 1942, the camp had four large gas chambers capable of murdering 10,000 people at a time. The bodies were then cremated.
Auschwitz III and the other sub-camps were labor camps built to assist Germany industry. They produced many items for the war effort, always under the watchful eye of camp doctors who sent the weak and injured to Auschwitz II for extermination.
Most of the Jews, Poles and Roma who were sent to the camps arrived by train. For the first couple years of operation, the trains were emptied out at a nearby rail terminal and the prisoners were marched to the compound. In 1944, because of the high volume of people being sent there, the tracks were extended into the camps themselves.
Once at the camps, the prisoners were immediately divided into groups: those who would go to work, those who would be held for medical experimentation and those who would go straight to the gas chambers. Jews from all over Europe were victims of this horrible sorting: Hungary, Poland, France, the Netherlands, Greece, Monrovia, Belgium and other nations all saw people ripped from their homes and taken away, never to be seen again.
The liberation of the complex by the Red Army did not spell freedom for all the enslaved. The Soviet POWs held in Auschwitz I were either executed or sent to gulags in the Soviet Union with the accusation that they had conspired with the Nazis. The NKVD, or Soviet secret police, used the complex as a prison before turning it over to the Polish government, which eventually restored parts of the area.
There has been a great controversy over how much the Allies knew about the concentration camps. Photographs were taken of some of the camps by reconnaissance flights, but this was because most of them were near potential industrial targets. It is safe to say that, by 1944 at the latest, the Allies were well aware of Nazi Germany's intention to rid Europe of Jews and other grou considered undesirable. It has been argued that bombing the camps themselves would have killed many innocent people and done little to slow the genocide, but we will never know. What is certain is that we must never forget what happened.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Prohibition Wins the Day, January 16, 1919
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Today in 1919, the Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution was certified when Wyoming became the 36th state in the Union to ratify it. When the amendment went into effect, exactly one year later, it ensured that alcohol (or “intoxicating liquors”, the term used in the amendment) would become all but impossible to obtain by legal means. Thus, the United States entered the era of Prohibition, the unintended consequences of which would have a far-reaching impact on American society.
The temperance movement in the United States dates back to the time of the War for Independence. By the beginning of the Civil War some 80 years later, more than 3 million Americans out of a population of 31 million belonged to an organized temperance group. These groups had a tremendous effect on society and were able to influence various state legislatures to pass laws enacting strict limitations on how, where and to whom alcohol could be sold. Many states endorsed an anti-alcohol curriculum under pressure from temperance groups, the aim being to inform young people of the purported evils of liquor long before they took that first drink.
Out of the temperance movement grew the political prohibition movement. A national move towards a prohibition on alcohol sales first gained strength in the 1840’s, but the Civil War caused the movement to fade during the 1860’s. The last quarter of the 19th century, however, witnessed a resurgence with the establishment of such groups as the Prohibition Party and the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. In 1881, Kansas became the first state to outlaw alcoholic beverages by constitutional amendment. By the turn of the century, most states contained at least a few dry towns or counties; a large number of those still exist today.
Many Prohibition groups, called “dries”, were church-based, mainly Protestant denominations. The anti-Prohibition groups, or “wets”, tended to be mostly Roman Catholic, Episcopalian and Lutherans from Germany. Both major political parties had wet and dry factions. The issue was so contentious that during the 1916 Presidential election, both Democrat Woodrow Wilson and his challenger, Republican Charles Evans Hughes, ignored the issue. Wilson won the election and when Congress convened in January, 1917, the mandate was clear: regardless of party, dries outnumbered wets in Congress by 2-to-1.
Both the US House of Representatives and the Senate passed the resolution calling for the Eighteenth Amendment in December, 1917. There were forty-eight states in the Union at that time, so thirty-six state legislatures would have to ratify the amendment in order for it to be certified as part of the Constitution. This amendment was unique up to that point in American constitutional history in that it contained a codicil requiring it to be certified within seven years. The states needed barely one. Starting in January, 1918, one state after another voted in favor of the document. On January 16th, 1919, Wyoming became the 36th state to ratify the amendment. On January 29th, Secretary of State Frank Polk certified the ratification process. The amendment went into effect one year later. The Noble Experiment, as Prohibition came to be called in the United States by its proponents, was underway.
It is a peculiarity of the American legal system that Congress had to take one more action in order to give the Eighteenth Amendment teeth: it had to pass a bill which defined the term “intoxicating liquors” and implemented the amendment. This was accomplished with the National Prohibition Act, more popularly know as the Volstead Act. The law did not specifically outlaw the use of intoxicating liquors, but it superseded all state laws regarding the manufacture and sale of liquor, essentially forbidding any drink containing more than 0.5% alcohol.
Since distilleries, breweries and alcohol importation companies suddenly became illegal enterprises, those who made their livelihoods outside the law soon took over these businesses. All of the gangsters who would become household names during the 1920's owed their wealth and fame to the fact that they manufactured or imported beer and liquor for use in illegal bars, or speakeasies as they came to be known. The Mafia and other organized crime groups began to wield tremendous power in larger cities, especially those that served as distribution points for liquor importation. Southern moonshiners suddenly found their product in hot demand, resulting in a career boost for bootleggers and their fast cars. Modern stock car racing in the United States can trace its roots directly back to the young men who delivered moonshine all over the South at night in souped-up cars capable of outrunning all but the most aggressive police officers.
The surge in organized crime during the 1920's caused some who once supported Prohibition to re-think their position. The stock market crash of 1929 and the ensuing Great Depression also helped to change the nation's attitude towards an industry that, if once again legitimized, would provide tens of thousands of jobs for the nation's unemployed. By 1933, public opinion had turned hard against Prohibition. In February of that year, the Blaine Act proposed another amendment to the Constitution, this one intended to end Prohibition and return control of alcohol manufacture and sales to the states. On December 5th, 1933, Utah ratified the Twenty-First Amendment and national Prohibition became another chapter in the history of the United States.
Today in 1919, the Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution was certified when Wyoming became the 36th state in the Union to ratify it. When the amendment went into effect, exactly one year later, it ensured that alcohol (or “intoxicating liquors”, the term used in the amendment) would become all but impossible to obtain by legal means. Thus, the United States entered the era of Prohibition, the unintended consequences of which would have a far-reaching impact on American society.
The temperance movement in the United States dates back to the time of the War for Independence. By the beginning of the Civil War some 80 years later, more than 3 million Americans out of a population of 31 million belonged to an organized temperance group. These groups had a tremendous effect on society and were able to influence various state legislatures to pass laws enacting strict limitations on how, where and to whom alcohol could be sold. Many states endorsed an anti-alcohol curriculum under pressure from temperance groups, the aim being to inform young people of the purported evils of liquor long before they took that first drink.
Out of the temperance movement grew the political prohibition movement. A national move towards a prohibition on alcohol sales first gained strength in the 1840’s, but the Civil War caused the movement to fade during the 1860’s. The last quarter of the 19th century, however, witnessed a resurgence with the establishment of such groups as the Prohibition Party and the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. In 1881, Kansas became the first state to outlaw alcoholic beverages by constitutional amendment. By the turn of the century, most states contained at least a few dry towns or counties; a large number of those still exist today.
Many Prohibition groups, called “dries”, were church-based, mainly Protestant denominations. The anti-Prohibition groups, or “wets”, tended to be mostly Roman Catholic, Episcopalian and Lutherans from Germany. Both major political parties had wet and dry factions. The issue was so contentious that during the 1916 Presidential election, both Democrat Woodrow Wilson and his challenger, Republican Charles Evans Hughes, ignored the issue. Wilson won the election and when Congress convened in January, 1917, the mandate was clear: regardless of party, dries outnumbered wets in Congress by 2-to-1.
Both the US House of Representatives and the Senate passed the resolution calling for the Eighteenth Amendment in December, 1917. There were forty-eight states in the Union at that time, so thirty-six state legislatures would have to ratify the amendment in order for it to be certified as part of the Constitution. This amendment was unique up to that point in American constitutional history in that it contained a codicil requiring it to be certified within seven years. The states needed barely one. Starting in January, 1918, one state after another voted in favor of the document. On January 16th, 1919, Wyoming became the 36th state to ratify the amendment. On January 29th, Secretary of State Frank Polk certified the ratification process. The amendment went into effect one year later. The Noble Experiment, as Prohibition came to be called in the United States by its proponents, was underway.
It is a peculiarity of the American legal system that Congress had to take one more action in order to give the Eighteenth Amendment teeth: it had to pass a bill which defined the term “intoxicating liquors” and implemented the amendment. This was accomplished with the National Prohibition Act, more popularly know as the Volstead Act. The law did not specifically outlaw the use of intoxicating liquors, but it superseded all state laws regarding the manufacture and sale of liquor, essentially forbidding any drink containing more than 0.5% alcohol.
Since distilleries, breweries and alcohol importation companies suddenly became illegal enterprises, those who made their livelihoods outside the law soon took over these businesses. All of the gangsters who would become household names during the 1920's owed their wealth and fame to the fact that they manufactured or imported beer and liquor for use in illegal bars, or speakeasies as they came to be known. The Mafia and other organized crime groups began to wield tremendous power in larger cities, especially those that served as distribution points for liquor importation. Southern moonshiners suddenly found their product in hot demand, resulting in a career boost for bootleggers and their fast cars. Modern stock car racing in the United States can trace its roots directly back to the young men who delivered moonshine all over the South at night in souped-up cars capable of outrunning all but the most aggressive police officers.
The surge in organized crime during the 1920's caused some who once supported Prohibition to re-think their position. The stock market crash of 1929 and the ensuing Great Depression also helped to change the nation's attitude towards an industry that, if once again legitimized, would provide tens of thousands of jobs for the nation's unemployed. By 1933, public opinion had turned hard against Prohibition. In February of that year, the Blaine Act proposed another amendment to the Constitution, this one intended to end Prohibition and return control of alcohol manufacture and sales to the states. On December 5th, 1933, Utah ratified the Twenty-First Amendment and national Prohibition became another chapter in the history of the United States.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Dan Cooper Gets Away, November 24, 1971
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Today in 1971, Northwest Airlines flight 305 began a scheduled run between Portland, Oregon and Seattle, Washington, an easy flight by airline standards. One man on board the aircraft, however, had a different flight plan in mind. Thus begins the story of D.B. Cooper, perhaps the best known airline hijacker of the 20th century. His identity and his ultimate fate remain a mystery more than 38 years later.
On the day before Thanksgiving in 1971, a man identifying himself as Dan Cooper bought an airline ticket at the Northwest Airlines counter in Portland, Oregon. He was dressed in a dark suit covered by a raincoat and had short hair, the uniform of the day for business travelers. In those days of nearly non-existent airline security, Cooper boarded his flight with a briefcase that was not inspected. He checked no baggage.
While the aircraft was still on the ground in Portland, Cooper slipped a note to a passing stewardess. Thinking it contained the passenger’s phone number and request for a date, the woman slipped the note into her pocket and continued down the aisle. After the flight was in the air, Cooper stopped the same stewardess and told her calmly, “Miss, you’d better have a look at that note. I have a bomb.” The note reiterated Cooper’s statement, informing the flight crew that a hijacking was underway. Captain William Scott, the plane’s pilot, radioed the air traffic control center at Seattle-Tacoma airport and informed them of the situation. Scott was told to cooperate with the hijacker until the FBI and state law enforcement could be notified. In the meantime, one of the flight attendants talked Cooper into showing her the inside of the briefcase, which appeared to her to contain a real bomb.
Cooper’s demands were simple: he wanted $200,000 in cash and four parachutes, two mains and two emergency chutes which are worn over the chest. He also wanted the plane to be refueled in Seattle. The request for so many chutes made officials wonder if Cooper had an accomplice on the plane or if he was planning on taking a hostage with him. Regardless, the money was gathered and the parachutes were borrowed from a Seattle parachute school. Once informed that his demands were being met Cooper allowed Captain Scott to land the aircraft at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. He then allowed the passengers to leave the aircraft in exchange for the parachutes and money; some of them did not realize the plane had been hijacked until they were in the airport terminal. As the plane took off again, only four people were on board: Captain Scott, his co-pilot, the flight attendant to whom Cooper had slipped his note and Cooper himself.
Once airborne, Cooper ordered the flight crew to fly towards the Mexican border at a speed not exceeding 170 knots or about 195 miles an hour. He also ordered them to stay under 10,000 feet, keep the landing gear down and raise the 727’s flaps by 15 degrees. This last demand later became important in the search for Cooper, as it indicated the hijacker probably had more than a passing familiarity with civilian jet aircraft.
The stewardess remained in the main cabin per Cooper’s order. Once the airliner was at altitude, he asked her to show him how to open the plane’s aft stairway. At that time, the Boeing 727 was the only civilian aircraft in commercial service that had a stairway at its tail end. The stewardess showed Cooper, but then told him that once opened, the stairway could not be raised again while in flight as it was only lowered by gravity and not a hydraulic mechanism. The hijacker then ordered the young woman into the cockpit with the pilot and co-pilot. Around 8:13PM local time, the crew reported feeling a “bump” from the rear of the aircraft. Visibility was poor that night, which worked in Cooper’s favor. Following the Northwest Airlines plane were two Air Force F-106 fighters, which stayed far enough behind the 727 so as to not attract attention. Between the fog and the darkness, they did not see anyone leave from the aft stairway at 8:13. D.B. Cooper had jumped into the night and into the fog of history, making a clean getaway.
At 11PM that night, Northwest Airlines flight 305 landed safely in Reno, Nevada, dragging her aft stairway along the tarmac. FBI agents and local police boarded the plane and searched for anything Cooper may have left behind. In the end, they found fingerprints which may or may not have been his, two of the four parachutes and the hijacker’s tie and tie clip. The area thought to be Cooper’s landing site was searched for eighteen days but nothing was found. In April, 1972, 400 soldiers from Fort Lewis, Washington spent six weeks scouring the same area on foot to no avail. The FBI questioned a man named Dan B. Cooper, but he was nowhere near the area on the night of the hijacking and did not fit the composite sketch made by the FBI. The name D.B. Cooper, however, stuck with several media sources and became the name of the hijacker, despite the fact he gave his name as Dan and never used a middle name.
More than 1,000 people have been suspected of being Dan Cooper over the past 36 years. A copycat hijacker, Richard McCoy, Jr., was suspected of being Cooper because his method of taking over the plane and his demands were so similar. However, the FBI eliminated him as a suspect when it was revealed he was in California on the day of the hijacking. Kenneth Christiansen, John List and Duane Weber remain strong suspects, made more so by the dozens of books and television shows written about the incident. In recent years, several people have come forward claiming that one of their deceased relatives was Cooper. All have evidence to support their claims, but no “smoking gun” has ever been found. The case remains open with the FBI.
The simple truth is that we will probably never know who hijacked that Northwest Airlines flight in November, 1971. In fact, there is no evidence that the perpetrator even survived his jump from the aircraft. No matter his fate, D.B. Cooper will remain a recognizable name in the annals of American crime for generations to come.
Today in 1971, Northwest Airlines flight 305 began a scheduled run between Portland, Oregon and Seattle, Washington, an easy flight by airline standards. One man on board the aircraft, however, had a different flight plan in mind. Thus begins the story of D.B. Cooper, perhaps the best known airline hijacker of the 20th century. His identity and his ultimate fate remain a mystery more than 38 years later.
On the day before Thanksgiving in 1971, a man identifying himself as Dan Cooper bought an airline ticket at the Northwest Airlines counter in Portland, Oregon. He was dressed in a dark suit covered by a raincoat and had short hair, the uniform of the day for business travelers. In those days of nearly non-existent airline security, Cooper boarded his flight with a briefcase that was not inspected. He checked no baggage.
While the aircraft was still on the ground in Portland, Cooper slipped a note to a passing stewardess. Thinking it contained the passenger’s phone number and request for a date, the woman slipped the note into her pocket and continued down the aisle. After the flight was in the air, Cooper stopped the same stewardess and told her calmly, “Miss, you’d better have a look at that note. I have a bomb.” The note reiterated Cooper’s statement, informing the flight crew that a hijacking was underway. Captain William Scott, the plane’s pilot, radioed the air traffic control center at Seattle-Tacoma airport and informed them of the situation. Scott was told to cooperate with the hijacker until the FBI and state law enforcement could be notified. In the meantime, one of the flight attendants talked Cooper into showing her the inside of the briefcase, which appeared to her to contain a real bomb.
Cooper’s demands were simple: he wanted $200,000 in cash and four parachutes, two mains and two emergency chutes which are worn over the chest. He also wanted the plane to be refueled in Seattle. The request for so many chutes made officials wonder if Cooper had an accomplice on the plane or if he was planning on taking a hostage with him. Regardless, the money was gathered and the parachutes were borrowed from a Seattle parachute school. Once informed that his demands were being met Cooper allowed Captain Scott to land the aircraft at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. He then allowed the passengers to leave the aircraft in exchange for the parachutes and money; some of them did not realize the plane had been hijacked until they were in the airport terminal. As the plane took off again, only four people were on board: Captain Scott, his co-pilot, the flight attendant to whom Cooper had slipped his note and Cooper himself.
Once airborne, Cooper ordered the flight crew to fly towards the Mexican border at a speed not exceeding 170 knots or about 195 miles an hour. He also ordered them to stay under 10,000 feet, keep the landing gear down and raise the 727’s flaps by 15 degrees. This last demand later became important in the search for Cooper, as it indicated the hijacker probably had more than a passing familiarity with civilian jet aircraft.
The stewardess remained in the main cabin per Cooper’s order. Once the airliner was at altitude, he asked her to show him how to open the plane’s aft stairway. At that time, the Boeing 727 was the only civilian aircraft in commercial service that had a stairway at its tail end. The stewardess showed Cooper, but then told him that once opened, the stairway could not be raised again while in flight as it was only lowered by gravity and not a hydraulic mechanism. The hijacker then ordered the young woman into the cockpit with the pilot and co-pilot. Around 8:13PM local time, the crew reported feeling a “bump” from the rear of the aircraft. Visibility was poor that night, which worked in Cooper’s favor. Following the Northwest Airlines plane were two Air Force F-106 fighters, which stayed far enough behind the 727 so as to not attract attention. Between the fog and the darkness, they did not see anyone leave from the aft stairway at 8:13. D.B. Cooper had jumped into the night and into the fog of history, making a clean getaway.
At 11PM that night, Northwest Airlines flight 305 landed safely in Reno, Nevada, dragging her aft stairway along the tarmac. FBI agents and local police boarded the plane and searched for anything Cooper may have left behind. In the end, they found fingerprints which may or may not have been his, two of the four parachutes and the hijacker’s tie and tie clip. The area thought to be Cooper’s landing site was searched for eighteen days but nothing was found. In April, 1972, 400 soldiers from Fort Lewis, Washington spent six weeks scouring the same area on foot to no avail. The FBI questioned a man named Dan B. Cooper, but he was nowhere near the area on the night of the hijacking and did not fit the composite sketch made by the FBI. The name D.B. Cooper, however, stuck with several media sources and became the name of the hijacker, despite the fact he gave his name as Dan and never used a middle name.
More than 1,000 people have been suspected of being Dan Cooper over the past 36 years. A copycat hijacker, Richard McCoy, Jr., was suspected of being Cooper because his method of taking over the plane and his demands were so similar. However, the FBI eliminated him as a suspect when it was revealed he was in California on the day of the hijacking. Kenneth Christiansen, John List and Duane Weber remain strong suspects, made more so by the dozens of books and television shows written about the incident. In recent years, several people have come forward claiming that one of their deceased relatives was Cooper. All have evidence to support their claims, but no “smoking gun” has ever been found. The case remains open with the FBI.
The simple truth is that we will probably never know who hijacked that Northwest Airlines flight in November, 1971. In fact, there is no evidence that the perpetrator even survived his jump from the aircraft. No matter his fate, D.B. Cooper will remain a recognizable name in the annals of American crime for generations to come.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
That Terrible Day in Dallas, November 22, 1963
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Today in 1963, US President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in downtown Dallas, Texas. The shock, anger, and sadness which the American people felt had not been seen since the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in 1865. Not until the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001, would the nation come together again in such a fashion.
JFK, as the President was known, was born into a family whose patriarch had political aspirations of the highest order. When the oldest son in the family, Joe Jr., was killed during the Second World War, the senior Kennedy’s hopes and dreams fell to the next son in line, John Fitzgerald. John had been a sickly child but compensated for it by keeping up with his peers in sports and after-hours activities. During the Second World War, he commanded Torpedo Boat PT-109. On August 2nd, 1943, Kennedy lost his command when the comparatively small wooden boat was hit and sunk by a Japanese destroyer. Kennedy acted bravely and saw to the welfare of his men; he swam several miles with one of the injured crewman in tow. This incident, along with problems found during childhood, conspired to cause Kennedy severe back pain for the rest of his life.
After the war, Kennedy won a seat in the US House of Representatives representing Massachusetts’ 11th Congressional District. He held that office until 1952, when he won a Senate seat which he held until the Presidential race in 1960. That November, Kennedy won one of the closest elections in US history, barely beating his Republican opponent, Richard Nixon. He was the 2nd youngest president to hold the office and was the first and thus far only Catholic to serve in the Oval Office.
While Kennedy was certainly popular, he had his fair share of enemies. By today’s standards, JFK would be considered a moderate conservative. His dealings with the Soviet Union were tough, but not tough enough to please the far right in the nation. He worked for desegregation and civil rights legislation, a move which alienated him from some Southerners. If he was going to be re-elected in 1964, Kennedy had to mend many fences.
The trip to Dallas in November, 1963, was an attempt to bridge the gap with Texas Democrats, who were split on important issues of the day and fighting amongst themselves. It was also a fund-raising opportunity. Kennedy had lost Dallas County in the 1960 election and was acutely aware that he was not popular there with the majority of voters. U.N. Ambassador Adlai Stevenson was met with a near-riot when he visited Dallas the previous month and advised Kennedy not to go. But the Dallas Police Department promised increased security, so the trip was on.
Air Force One arrived at Dallas’ Love field 20 minutes before noon on the 22nd. The President’s itinerary called for his motorcade to travel through downtown and Dealey Plaza on their way to the Dallas Business and Trade Mart where the President was scheduled to have lunch with local business and political leaders.
As the motorcade made a left-hand turn onto Elm Street, over two dozen people recorded the moment with still and motion-picture cameras. The most famous of these recordings was filmed by a man named Abraham Zapruder, a Russian immigrant who owned a clothing manufacturing company located diagonally from Dealey Plaza. The Zapruder film today represents the most complete record of what happened next.
Witness testimony concerning traumatic events is not always accurate, but the general consensus is that the first of three shots was fired from the sixth floor of the Book Depository building at 12:30PM. The building was located on Elm Street, so the shooter had a downward facing shot into the President’s limousine. The first shot missed the President, but the second one hit both him and Texas Governor John Connelly, and the third hit Kennedy in the side of the head, causing the fatal wound. Realizing what had happened in only six seconds, the Presidential motorcade moved out at high speed towards Parkland Hospital several miles away.
The nation first learned of the shooting barely ten minutes after it occurred. Walter Cronkite with CBS News read an audio only statement which only mentioned what was then known: the President had been seriously wounded. It was 2PM Eastern Standard Time (1PM in Dallas) before the CBS News cameras in Cronkite’s New York studio were ready. Approximately 40 minutes later, the by-then veteran reporter told the nation that John F. Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States was dead. All three television networks cancelled their regular programming for four days to cover the assassination without commercial breaks, something that would not happen again until the terrorist attacks on 9/11.
While the fate of the President played out at Parkland Hospital, Dallas Police were hunting for the shooter or shooters. Lee Harvey Oswald, the man who would later be charged with the crime, was briefly detained by police in the second floor lunchroom of the Book Depository, but was released. He left the building by its front door less than five minutes after the shooting. Several minutes later, the Book Depository was sealed off after witnesses claimed they saw a shooter on one of the upper floors. Police quickly found an Italian-made rifle on the sixth floor, leaning against a wall near a window.
At 1:15PM local time, about 45 minutes after the shooting, Oswald shot and killed a Dallas police officer less than one mile from the room he rented. This act was seen by at least 13 people and led to Oswald being tracked to a nearby movie theater, where he was apprehended after a brief struggle with police. He was taken to the Dallas jail.
While Oswald was being transported to jail, another incident worthy of mention was occurring at Parkland Hospital. Since the President had been shot in Texas, state law dictated that his autopsy must take place within the boundaries of the state. Since federal law at that time did not show shooting the President to be a crime, the only charges leveled against Oswald would be those pressed by the state of Texas. This added strength to the state’s position that the autopsy must occur in Dallas. However, the Secret Service detachment with the President’s body was under orders to return to Air Force One for an immediate flight back to Washington. In a hallway of the hospital, Dallas police officers and Secret Service agents brandished their service revolvers as they argued about what to do. In the midst of this tumult was Jacqueline Kennedy, who never left the President’s side. Eventually, the Secret Service won the debate and the coffin containing the President’s body was rushed to Love Field and placed aboard Air Force One. Before the plane left the tarmac, Lyndon Johnson was sworn in as the 36th President of the United States.
An industry has grown around various theories related to the Kennedy assassination. What I present here are facts that are considered official, although details about the shooting and the disposition of the three bullets remain in doubt. The Warren Commission, the first body to investigate the assassination, concluded that Oswald acted alone, thereby giving an official stamp to the “lone gunman” theory. Oswald could not be questioned, as he had been killed by club owner Jack Ruby the Sunday after the assassination as he was escorted through the parking garage of the Dallas Police Department. This shooting caused some conspiracy theorists to believe the murder was a Mafia hit job, since Ruby had those kinds of connections. Others place the blame on the Soviets, Southern separatists, and even the CIA.
In the late 1970’s, the House Select Committee on Assassinations, known as the HSCA, returned to the issue of what really happened on that day in Dallas. It concluded that the FBI did a poor job of investigating the shooting, including improper handling of important evidence. The Secret Service was called out for not providing enough protection given the nature of politics in Dallas. While the HSCA did not directly question the authenticity of the lone gunman theory, it shed enough light on the issue to put the true nature of events in question for many Americans. In 2003, ABC News conducted a poll in which 70% of respondents stated they believe the assassination was part of a plot, not the act of a lone shooter. While most of the documents related to that day have been released to the public, a small number will not be available until 2017. Will they answer the question with any finality? Probably not, but we’ll have to wait and see.
Today in 1963, US President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in downtown Dallas, Texas. The shock, anger, and sadness which the American people felt had not been seen since the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in 1865. Not until the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001, would the nation come together again in such a fashion.
JFK, as the President was known, was born into a family whose patriarch had political aspirations of the highest order. When the oldest son in the family, Joe Jr., was killed during the Second World War, the senior Kennedy’s hopes and dreams fell to the next son in line, John Fitzgerald. John had been a sickly child but compensated for it by keeping up with his peers in sports and after-hours activities. During the Second World War, he commanded Torpedo Boat PT-109. On August 2nd, 1943, Kennedy lost his command when the comparatively small wooden boat was hit and sunk by a Japanese destroyer. Kennedy acted bravely and saw to the welfare of his men; he swam several miles with one of the injured crewman in tow. This incident, along with problems found during childhood, conspired to cause Kennedy severe back pain for the rest of his life.
After the war, Kennedy won a seat in the US House of Representatives representing Massachusetts’ 11th Congressional District. He held that office until 1952, when he won a Senate seat which he held until the Presidential race in 1960. That November, Kennedy won one of the closest elections in US history, barely beating his Republican opponent, Richard Nixon. He was the 2nd youngest president to hold the office and was the first and thus far only Catholic to serve in the Oval Office.
While Kennedy was certainly popular, he had his fair share of enemies. By today’s standards, JFK would be considered a moderate conservative. His dealings with the Soviet Union were tough, but not tough enough to please the far right in the nation. He worked for desegregation and civil rights legislation, a move which alienated him from some Southerners. If he was going to be re-elected in 1964, Kennedy had to mend many fences.
The trip to Dallas in November, 1963, was an attempt to bridge the gap with Texas Democrats, who were split on important issues of the day and fighting amongst themselves. It was also a fund-raising opportunity. Kennedy had lost Dallas County in the 1960 election and was acutely aware that he was not popular there with the majority of voters. U.N. Ambassador Adlai Stevenson was met with a near-riot when he visited Dallas the previous month and advised Kennedy not to go. But the Dallas Police Department promised increased security, so the trip was on.
Air Force One arrived at Dallas’ Love field 20 minutes before noon on the 22nd. The President’s itinerary called for his motorcade to travel through downtown and Dealey Plaza on their way to the Dallas Business and Trade Mart where the President was scheduled to have lunch with local business and political leaders.
As the motorcade made a left-hand turn onto Elm Street, over two dozen people recorded the moment with still and motion-picture cameras. The most famous of these recordings was filmed by a man named Abraham Zapruder, a Russian immigrant who owned a clothing manufacturing company located diagonally from Dealey Plaza. The Zapruder film today represents the most complete record of what happened next.
Witness testimony concerning traumatic events is not always accurate, but the general consensus is that the first of three shots was fired from the sixth floor of the Book Depository building at 12:30PM. The building was located on Elm Street, so the shooter had a downward facing shot into the President’s limousine. The first shot missed the President, but the second one hit both him and Texas Governor John Connelly, and the third hit Kennedy in the side of the head, causing the fatal wound. Realizing what had happened in only six seconds, the Presidential motorcade moved out at high speed towards Parkland Hospital several miles away.
The nation first learned of the shooting barely ten minutes after it occurred. Walter Cronkite with CBS News read an audio only statement which only mentioned what was then known: the President had been seriously wounded. It was 2PM Eastern Standard Time (1PM in Dallas) before the CBS News cameras in Cronkite’s New York studio were ready. Approximately 40 minutes later, the by-then veteran reporter told the nation that John F. Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States was dead. All three television networks cancelled their regular programming for four days to cover the assassination without commercial breaks, something that would not happen again until the terrorist attacks on 9/11.
While the fate of the President played out at Parkland Hospital, Dallas Police were hunting for the shooter or shooters. Lee Harvey Oswald, the man who would later be charged with the crime, was briefly detained by police in the second floor lunchroom of the Book Depository, but was released. He left the building by its front door less than five minutes after the shooting. Several minutes later, the Book Depository was sealed off after witnesses claimed they saw a shooter on one of the upper floors. Police quickly found an Italian-made rifle on the sixth floor, leaning against a wall near a window.
At 1:15PM local time, about 45 minutes after the shooting, Oswald shot and killed a Dallas police officer less than one mile from the room he rented. This act was seen by at least 13 people and led to Oswald being tracked to a nearby movie theater, where he was apprehended after a brief struggle with police. He was taken to the Dallas jail.
While Oswald was being transported to jail, another incident worthy of mention was occurring at Parkland Hospital. Since the President had been shot in Texas, state law dictated that his autopsy must take place within the boundaries of the state. Since federal law at that time did not show shooting the President to be a crime, the only charges leveled against Oswald would be those pressed by the state of Texas. This added strength to the state’s position that the autopsy must occur in Dallas. However, the Secret Service detachment with the President’s body was under orders to return to Air Force One for an immediate flight back to Washington. In a hallway of the hospital, Dallas police officers and Secret Service agents brandished their service revolvers as they argued about what to do. In the midst of this tumult was Jacqueline Kennedy, who never left the President’s side. Eventually, the Secret Service won the debate and the coffin containing the President’s body was rushed to Love Field and placed aboard Air Force One. Before the plane left the tarmac, Lyndon Johnson was sworn in as the 36th President of the United States.
An industry has grown around various theories related to the Kennedy assassination. What I present here are facts that are considered official, although details about the shooting and the disposition of the three bullets remain in doubt. The Warren Commission, the first body to investigate the assassination, concluded that Oswald acted alone, thereby giving an official stamp to the “lone gunman” theory. Oswald could not be questioned, as he had been killed by club owner Jack Ruby the Sunday after the assassination as he was escorted through the parking garage of the Dallas Police Department. This shooting caused some conspiracy theorists to believe the murder was a Mafia hit job, since Ruby had those kinds of connections. Others place the blame on the Soviets, Southern separatists, and even the CIA.
In the late 1970’s, the House Select Committee on Assassinations, known as the HSCA, returned to the issue of what really happened on that day in Dallas. It concluded that the FBI did a poor job of investigating the shooting, including improper handling of important evidence. The Secret Service was called out for not providing enough protection given the nature of politics in Dallas. While the HSCA did not directly question the authenticity of the lone gunman theory, it shed enough light on the issue to put the true nature of events in question for many Americans. In 2003, ABC News conducted a poll in which 70% of respondents stated they believe the assassination was part of a plot, not the act of a lone shooter. While most of the documents related to that day have been released to the public, a small number will not be available until 2017. Will they answer the question with any finality? Probably not, but we’ll have to wait and see.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Monday, September 07, 2009
Lee's First Invasion Of The North, September 4, 1862
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On this day in 1862 Confederate General Robert E Lee began his first invasion of the North, initiating the Maryland Campaign that would culminate in the Battle of Antietam (or Sharpsburg as it was called in the South). Little did he know that he would set off a chain of events that would change the war and the course of the nation forever.
By the late summer of 1862 the American Civil War had taken a dramatic turn. Barely a month before, Union General George B McClellan and the Union Army of the Potomac were within site of the Confederate capital at Richmond, Virginia. A prolonged and bloody siege of the city seemed inevitable. The Confederacy was facing its first real test. However, as fate would have it, on May 31st 1862 the commander of the Confederate forces, General Joe Johnston, was wounded at the Battle of Seven Pines. Without hesitation, Confederate President Jefferson Davis appointed his most trusted military advisor, Robert E Lee, to take over the command.
Lee came from one of the most celebrated families in the nation. His father ("Light Horse" Harry Lee) was a favorite lieutenant of George Washington and his wife was the granddaughter of Martha Washington. As a commander of men in the field Lee’s brilliance was a somewhat unknown commodity at this time in the war. However, Jefferson Davis could not have chosen a better man for the job. When the Civil War began, Colonel Robert E Lee was considered by his peers as one of the best soldiers the nation had. He was offered the command of all the Union forces by Abraham Lincoln, but he declined and followed his home state of Virginia out of the Union. Replacing General Johnston he named his new command the Army of Northern Virginia; it would become one of the most famous armies in history. In two months the bold and aggressive Lee would shift the fighting from the outskirts of Richmond to within 30 miles of Washington DC. After he forced McClellan off the Virginia Peninsula during the Battles of the Seven Days, he turned north and defeated General Pope at the second Battle of Manassas (also called the 2nd Battle of Bull Run).
With the initiative well in hand Lee had a critical decision to make, and he had several different options to choose from:
He could stay where he was near Manassas Junction and wait for the Federals to attack.
He could withdraw back to the Richmond defenses, dig in and wait for an attack.
He could move his army west into the Shenandoah Valley.
Or he could keep the initiative by continuing the offensive, moving his army into Maryland and Pennsylvania.
The first three options presented Lee with no real advantage. Certainly, he could have used this time to rest and refit his tired army. Some of his men had been marching and fighting for months without a break, but fighting from a defensive position was not in Lee’s nature. He also knew that if he assumed a defensive posture, it would be only a matter of time before the superior numbers of men and material the North possessed overwhelmed his army. In the end, Lee decided that the best defense is a good offense.
In addition, an operation into the North presented several military and political possible upsides for the confederacy.
First, they could take the fighting out of the worn down countryside of northern Virginia and into the fertile farmlands of Maryland and Pennsylvania where food and fodder were plentiful. It would also, as the Confederacy believed, allow the citizens of Maryland to throw off the oppressive government of Abraham Lincoln and join ranks with the Confederate states. A victory on northern soil would demonstrate to France and England that the Confederacy was a legitimate nation deserving of recognition. Recognition by Europe was critical to the future of the Southern government. It was equally critical to the Lincoln administration to prevent such a move by England and France.
On the 3rd of September Robert E Lee sent a dispatch to Confederate President Jefferson Davis announcing his intention to take the war to the North, stating “The present seems to be the most propitious time since the commencement of the war for the Confederate Army to enter Maryland.” Lee had good reason to feel an offensive was his best and only move. Because of its recent defeats in the past few months Lee felt the Army of the Potomac was demoralized, beaten and not at all ready for renewed fighting. He also read in the northern papers that the Federal forces were getting some 60,000 raw recruits; it would take some time to train, coordinate, and fold these new men into the army. These two factors made Lee believe that it would be several weeks before the Union Army could get organized and come out of the Washington defenses to offer him battle. “By that time”, Lee told a subordinate, “I will be on the banks of the Susquehanna.”
Opposing Robert E Lee was the dashing young Major General George Brinton McClellan. McClellan was an over achiever his whole life, and early on in the war he was one of the few Union generals who actually won battles. He was soon elevated to commander of the Army of the Potomac and devised a plan that he was sure would defeat the Confederacy. He would float his massive army down the Potomac River and land it on the Virginia Peninsula, overwhelm the Confederates in front of Richmond, capture the city and end the war. This was a very ambitious strategy. Although he was extremely confident in his own abilities, McClellan was glacially slow on the battlefield. For almost a year he drove the Lincoln administration crazy with his incredibly plodding movements.
McClellan was completely out generaled by Lee at what was called The Battles of the Seven Days. After being chased off the Peninsula, his army was taken from him piece by piece to reinforce General Pope now advancing below Washington DC. McClellan was in a state of flux. It would not take long before he was thrust into the spotlight once again. Lee’s Confederates smashed Pope’ army. Defeated, Pope retreated back to Washington DC. Lincoln felt his only choice to save the day was to place Little Mac, as he was called, back in command. For all of his failings as a field commander Lincoln knew McClellan did possess assets that would be essential at this point: he was a master of organizing and training men for war. He was also the one Union general that held the confidence and support of the rank and file soldiers. He would skillfully use these assets to reform and refit the army in an incredibly short amount of time and get it ready for operations.
On September 4th Lee’s army of 40,000 men began to cross the Potomac River at White’s ford about 25 miles upstream from Washington DC. This sent waves of panic and misinformation throughout the North. The ragged and dirty Army of Northern Virginia march confidently into the Union to the strains of “Maryland My Maryland”, the state song. Lee was as confident as his men. But little did he know that McClellan’s Union force of 80,000 men would soon be on the march and in pursuit of him. The overly cautious McClellan was very careful to keep his force between Lee’s and Washington DC.
Then fate took over. On the 13th of September two union soldiers stumbled on a copy of Lee’s Special Order 191 just outside the town of Frederick, Maryland. Carelessly misplaced by a Confederate soldier whose name is lost to history, this order detailed Lee’s entire plan of operation. Lee had divided his army sending a large part of it to capture the federal stronghold at Harpers Ferry. This was one of those rare military opportunities that only happens once in a generation. If he moved quickly, McClellan could destroy the Confederate force in detail. But that was contrary to his nature. He did move just fast enough however to compel Lee to fight a holding action at South Mountain on the 14th. Lee’s force was too small to hold the federals back and they broke through the South Mountain Passes before nightfall. Being in a very tight spot with his army scattered all over Lee contemplated withdrawing from Maryland. Just then a timely message arrived from Confederate General Stonewall Jackson---the garrison at Harpers Ferry had capitulated and he was marching the bulk of his force north to rejoin Lee. It was at this time Lee decided to concentrate his army at the small hamlet of Sharpsburg, Maryland. This quite dusty crossroad sat in a crook of land between the Antietam Creek and the Potomac River. Lee was still in a very vulnerable spot, but he again counted on the slow moving McClellan to give him the time he needed to gather his widely scattered army. McClellan did not disappoint; he did not have his men in place and ready to attack until the night of the 16th. Lee had arranged his men in a defensive line just west of the Antietam Creek. McClellan set up east of the river. The Union general outnumbered his opponent by almost two to one, but he believed just the opposite was true. McClellan sent two corps across the river to attack the confederates at first light the next morning. The Confederates were not fooled by this obvious move and shifted several regiments to their left flank to meet this attack. On that day, September 17th 1862, the epic Battle of Antietam took place. It is known as the bloodiest day in American history. The day would see over 23,000 casualties, including more than 3600 killed. When all of the dust settled and the smoke cleared the massive battle was essentially a tactical draw. But George McClellan could claim a victory as Robert E Lee had to retreat back to Virginia with over 25% of his army killed, wounded, or missing.
During the course of the Maryland Campaign, McClellan had several excellent chances to destroy the rebel army, but he missed every single one. It was a campaign marked by desperate gambles and missed opportunities. McClellan did ,however, manage to check Robert E Lee and his seemingly unstoppable force. In the nine months to follow the Confederate tide would surge again as Lee would go on cement his reputation as one of the finest military minds this nation has ever produced.
Even if it was an incomplete victory in Lincoln’s eyes, it would have to do. He used the political momentum to issue the “Emancipation Proclamation”. This freed all the slaves living in states currently rebelling against the government. It was a political masterstroke. Without immediately freeing a single slave, Lincoln lifted the war to a higher moral ground. It would also end any real hopes of England and France intervening on behalf of the South. The war was dramatically changed, at least north of the Mason Dixon line, from one of preservation of the Union to one of emancipating slaves.
McClellan would eventually be fired by Lincoln because of his unwillingness to persue the Confederates and finish them off.
Undeterred, the audacious Robert E Lee would invade the North again less than a year later. That campaign would culminate near a small town in Pennsylvania called Gettysburg. But that is another story.
On this day in 1862 Confederate General Robert E Lee began his first invasion of the North, initiating the Maryland Campaign that would culminate in the Battle of Antietam (or Sharpsburg as it was called in the South). Little did he know that he would set off a chain of events that would change the war and the course of the nation forever.
By the late summer of 1862 the American Civil War had taken a dramatic turn. Barely a month before, Union General George B McClellan and the Union Army of the Potomac were within site of the Confederate capital at Richmond, Virginia. A prolonged and bloody siege of the city seemed inevitable. The Confederacy was facing its first real test. However, as fate would have it, on May 31st 1862 the commander of the Confederate forces, General Joe Johnston, was wounded at the Battle of Seven Pines. Without hesitation, Confederate President Jefferson Davis appointed his most trusted military advisor, Robert E Lee, to take over the command.
Lee came from one of the most celebrated families in the nation. His father ("Light Horse" Harry Lee) was a favorite lieutenant of George Washington and his wife was the granddaughter of Martha Washington. As a commander of men in the field Lee’s brilliance was a somewhat unknown commodity at this time in the war. However, Jefferson Davis could not have chosen a better man for the job. When the Civil War began, Colonel Robert E Lee was considered by his peers as one of the best soldiers the nation had. He was offered the command of all the Union forces by Abraham Lincoln, but he declined and followed his home state of Virginia out of the Union. Replacing General Johnston he named his new command the Army of Northern Virginia; it would become one of the most famous armies in history. In two months the bold and aggressive Lee would shift the fighting from the outskirts of Richmond to within 30 miles of Washington DC. After he forced McClellan off the Virginia Peninsula during the Battles of the Seven Days, he turned north and defeated General Pope at the second Battle of Manassas (also called the 2nd Battle of Bull Run).
With the initiative well in hand Lee had a critical decision to make, and he had several different options to choose from:
He could stay where he was near Manassas Junction and wait for the Federals to attack.
He could withdraw back to the Richmond defenses, dig in and wait for an attack.
He could move his army west into the Shenandoah Valley.
Or he could keep the initiative by continuing the offensive, moving his army into Maryland and Pennsylvania.
The first three options presented Lee with no real advantage. Certainly, he could have used this time to rest and refit his tired army. Some of his men had been marching and fighting for months without a break, but fighting from a defensive position was not in Lee’s nature. He also knew that if he assumed a defensive posture, it would be only a matter of time before the superior numbers of men and material the North possessed overwhelmed his army. In the end, Lee decided that the best defense is a good offense.
In addition, an operation into the North presented several military and political possible upsides for the confederacy.
First, they could take the fighting out of the worn down countryside of northern Virginia and into the fertile farmlands of Maryland and Pennsylvania where food and fodder were plentiful. It would also, as the Confederacy believed, allow the citizens of Maryland to throw off the oppressive government of Abraham Lincoln and join ranks with the Confederate states. A victory on northern soil would demonstrate to France and England that the Confederacy was a legitimate nation deserving of recognition. Recognition by Europe was critical to the future of the Southern government. It was equally critical to the Lincoln administration to prevent such a move by England and France.
On the 3rd of September Robert E Lee sent a dispatch to Confederate President Jefferson Davis announcing his intention to take the war to the North, stating “The present seems to be the most propitious time since the commencement of the war for the Confederate Army to enter Maryland.” Lee had good reason to feel an offensive was his best and only move. Because of its recent defeats in the past few months Lee felt the Army of the Potomac was demoralized, beaten and not at all ready for renewed fighting. He also read in the northern papers that the Federal forces were getting some 60,000 raw recruits; it would take some time to train, coordinate, and fold these new men into the army. These two factors made Lee believe that it would be several weeks before the Union Army could get organized and come out of the Washington defenses to offer him battle. “By that time”, Lee told a subordinate, “I will be on the banks of the Susquehanna.”
Opposing Robert E Lee was the dashing young Major General George Brinton McClellan. McClellan was an over achiever his whole life, and early on in the war he was one of the few Union generals who actually won battles. He was soon elevated to commander of the Army of the Potomac and devised a plan that he was sure would defeat the Confederacy. He would float his massive army down the Potomac River and land it on the Virginia Peninsula, overwhelm the Confederates in front of Richmond, capture the city and end the war. This was a very ambitious strategy. Although he was extremely confident in his own abilities, McClellan was glacially slow on the battlefield. For almost a year he drove the Lincoln administration crazy with his incredibly plodding movements.
McClellan was completely out generaled by Lee at what was called The Battles of the Seven Days. After being chased off the Peninsula, his army was taken from him piece by piece to reinforce General Pope now advancing below Washington DC. McClellan was in a state of flux. It would not take long before he was thrust into the spotlight once again. Lee’s Confederates smashed Pope’ army. Defeated, Pope retreated back to Washington DC. Lincoln felt his only choice to save the day was to place Little Mac, as he was called, back in command. For all of his failings as a field commander Lincoln knew McClellan did possess assets that would be essential at this point: he was a master of organizing and training men for war. He was also the one Union general that held the confidence and support of the rank and file soldiers. He would skillfully use these assets to reform and refit the army in an incredibly short amount of time and get it ready for operations.
On September 4th Lee’s army of 40,000 men began to cross the Potomac River at White’s ford about 25 miles upstream from Washington DC. This sent waves of panic and misinformation throughout the North. The ragged and dirty Army of Northern Virginia march confidently into the Union to the strains of “Maryland My Maryland”, the state song. Lee was as confident as his men. But little did he know that McClellan’s Union force of 80,000 men would soon be on the march and in pursuit of him. The overly cautious McClellan was very careful to keep his force between Lee’s and Washington DC.
Then fate took over. On the 13th of September two union soldiers stumbled on a copy of Lee’s Special Order 191 just outside the town of Frederick, Maryland. Carelessly misplaced by a Confederate soldier whose name is lost to history, this order detailed Lee’s entire plan of operation. Lee had divided his army sending a large part of it to capture the federal stronghold at Harpers Ferry. This was one of those rare military opportunities that only happens once in a generation. If he moved quickly, McClellan could destroy the Confederate force in detail. But that was contrary to his nature. He did move just fast enough however to compel Lee to fight a holding action at South Mountain on the 14th. Lee’s force was too small to hold the federals back and they broke through the South Mountain Passes before nightfall. Being in a very tight spot with his army scattered all over Lee contemplated withdrawing from Maryland. Just then a timely message arrived from Confederate General Stonewall Jackson---the garrison at Harpers Ferry had capitulated and he was marching the bulk of his force north to rejoin Lee. It was at this time Lee decided to concentrate his army at the small hamlet of Sharpsburg, Maryland. This quite dusty crossroad sat in a crook of land between the Antietam Creek and the Potomac River. Lee was still in a very vulnerable spot, but he again counted on the slow moving McClellan to give him the time he needed to gather his widely scattered army. McClellan did not disappoint; he did not have his men in place and ready to attack until the night of the 16th. Lee had arranged his men in a defensive line just west of the Antietam Creek. McClellan set up east of the river. The Union general outnumbered his opponent by almost two to one, but he believed just the opposite was true. McClellan sent two corps across the river to attack the confederates at first light the next morning. The Confederates were not fooled by this obvious move and shifted several regiments to their left flank to meet this attack. On that day, September 17th 1862, the epic Battle of Antietam took place. It is known as the bloodiest day in American history. The day would see over 23,000 casualties, including more than 3600 killed. When all of the dust settled and the smoke cleared the massive battle was essentially a tactical draw. But George McClellan could claim a victory as Robert E Lee had to retreat back to Virginia with over 25% of his army killed, wounded, or missing.
During the course of the Maryland Campaign, McClellan had several excellent chances to destroy the rebel army, but he missed every single one. It was a campaign marked by desperate gambles and missed opportunities. McClellan did ,however, manage to check Robert E Lee and his seemingly unstoppable force. In the nine months to follow the Confederate tide would surge again as Lee would go on cement his reputation as one of the finest military minds this nation has ever produced.
Even if it was an incomplete victory in Lincoln’s eyes, it would have to do. He used the political momentum to issue the “Emancipation Proclamation”. This freed all the slaves living in states currently rebelling against the government. It was a political masterstroke. Without immediately freeing a single slave, Lincoln lifted the war to a higher moral ground. It would also end any real hopes of England and France intervening on behalf of the South. The war was dramatically changed, at least north of the Mason Dixon line, from one of preservation of the Union to one of emancipating slaves.
McClellan would eventually be fired by Lincoln because of his unwillingness to persue the Confederates and finish them off.
Undeterred, the audacious Robert E Lee would invade the North again less than a year later. That campaign would culminate near a small town in Pennsylvania called Gettysburg. But that is another story.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
An Introduction To The Introductions
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The most common questions I receive from listeners to this podcast pertain to the voices played during the show's various intros. Tonight, I thought it would be fun to go through the intros and identify each of the voices and when the words were spoken. There are, in total, six variations of the intro, including the one without words you heard at the beginning of tonight's show. The shows theme was written and produced by a listener named Gena, who has steadfastly refused to be further identified. I owe her a tremendous debt of gratitude. She also, by the way, created the artwork for the podcast.
Without any further ado, let's go to the first intro.
The first voice you heard was that of President Franklin Roosevelt. The date was December 8th, 1941 and Roosevelt was addressing a joint session of Congress. As you know, he was there to ask the body to declare war on Japan, which it did. Germany would declare war on the United States on December 11th of that year.
The second voice is that of President Ronald Reagan. The date was June 12th, 1987 and Reagan was addressing the people of West Berlin, a city cut off from East Berlin by a wall erected by the East German government in 1961. We'll hear more from this speech later.
The third voice belongs to Prime Minister Winston Churchill. The date was June 22, 1941 and Churchill was speaking to the British public about the German invasion of the Soviet Union, which had begun earlier that day. He said that the invasion was not a surprise to him and that, in fact, he had warned Josef Stalin about Hitler's duplicity. History shows us that Stalin was unprepared for an invasion and millions of Soviet citizens died as a result.
The fourth voice is that of Joseph Welch, who was head consul for the US Army during the Army-McCarthy hearings in 1954. We could easily fill a podcast discussing Welch's exchange with Senator Joseph McCarthy that day, but the quote you heard was made in defense of a young lawyer who worked for Welch's law firm, a man who McCarthy accussed of belonging to a Communist front organization. The hearings were televised live and many historians believe they ultimately led to the downfall of McCarthy.
Fifth is a quote from President John F. Kennedy. The date was October 22nd, 1962 and Kennedy was addressing the American people on live television, updating them on the status of what became known as the Cuban Missile Crisis. The crisis would soon end peacefully, but on that night it was open question as to whether or not there would be a nuclear exchange between the United States and the Soviet Union. The crisis resulted in the installation of a hotline connecting the White House and the Kremlin.
Sixth is part of Lou Gehrig's famous speech, given on July 4th, 1939, which became known as his Farewell to Baseball Address. Gehrig had been diagnosed with ALS, but the disease would come to be called by the famous player's name.
The final voice is once again Ronald Reagan's from the Berlin Wall address we discussed earlier.
Now we move to the second intro.
Over half of this introduction is dominated by Winston Churchill. He was reading a passage written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and sent to him by President Roosevelt in January, 1941. Churchill read the passage in a radio address to the British people soon thereafter.
The second voice belongs to Edward R. Murrow, the American correspondant in London for CBS radio during the darkest days of the war. He did a lot of his reporting from rooftops where the sound of German planes and bombs could be heard clearly in the skies over London. He introduced his reports by saying, "This...is London" with the emphasis on "this". If you listen to CBS television today, that emphasis is still used.
The third and final voice for this intro is, once again, Ronald Reagan during his Berlin Wall speech in 1987.
Here's the third intro.
The first voice belongs to Neil Armstrong, the commander of Apollo 11. He is announcing that he and Buzz Aldrin have landed safely on the moon aboard the lunar lander 'Eagle'. The date was July 20th, 1969.
We return once again to Winston Churchill for our next voice. This excerpt is from a speech the Prime Minister gave in the House of Commons on June 18th, 1940, when an invasion of England by Germany seemed a real possibility. It is probably Churchill's most oft-quoted speech.
The next voice is one about which I receive the most questions. It belongs to Spiro Agnew, who served as President Richard Nixon's Vice President from 1969 to 1973. This excerpt is from a record Agnew recorded and released early in Nixon's first term entitled "Spiro T. Agnew Speaks Out". Agnew and his speechwriters were full of sometimes witty, often tongue-twisting and confusing one-liners.
The fourth voice is that of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher during her address to the House of Commons on April 3rd, 1982. The Argentinian military had invaded the Falkland Islands the day before. This led to the Falklands War and the eventual return of the islands to British control.
The final voice of this intro belongs to President Harry Truman. He was addressing the American people on August 6th, 1945, telling them about a weapon known as an atomic bomb, a device so destructive it seemed to belong to the realm of science fiction.
Here's the fourth intro.
The first voice is familiar to almost every American over 40. It is Walter Cronkite, the longtime CBS news anchor who fought back tears as he announced the death of President John Kennedy on November 22nd, 1963.
The second voice is that of Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, who announced that there would be "peace in our time" after he signed the Munich Agreement with Adolf Hitler on September 30th, 1938. The Second World War began almost exactly one year later.
The final voice is that of Jim Lovell, mission commander of Apollo 13. Lovell, Jack Swigert and Fred Haise narrowly avoided death in space after an oxygen tank rupture damaged their command module. They owed their lives to their tremendous personal courage and the incredible brainpower at NASA's disposal. The date was April 13th, 1970.
Here's the fifth and final intro.
The first voice is that of George Gay who, as an Ensign in the United States Navy, was the only survivor from Torpedo Squadron Eight based aboard the USS Hornet during the Battle of Midway in June, 1942. Gay survived the war, wrote a book about his experience and flew for TWA for over 30 years.
The second voice you heard is, again, that of Neil Armstrong announcing the landing of lunar lander 'Eagle' on the moon on July 20th, 1969.
The final voice belongs to President John F. Kennedy. This is an excerpt from his inaugural address of January 20th, 1961. This speech also contained the famous line "ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country."
The most common questions I receive from listeners to this podcast pertain to the voices played during the show's various intros. Tonight, I thought it would be fun to go through the intros and identify each of the voices and when the words were spoken. There are, in total, six variations of the intro, including the one without words you heard at the beginning of tonight's show. The shows theme was written and produced by a listener named Gena, who has steadfastly refused to be further identified. I owe her a tremendous debt of gratitude. She also, by the way, created the artwork for the podcast.
Without any further ado, let's go to the first intro.
The first voice you heard was that of President Franklin Roosevelt. The date was December 8th, 1941 and Roosevelt was addressing a joint session of Congress. As you know, he was there to ask the body to declare war on Japan, which it did. Germany would declare war on the United States on December 11th of that year.
The second voice is that of President Ronald Reagan. The date was June 12th, 1987 and Reagan was addressing the people of West Berlin, a city cut off from East Berlin by a wall erected by the East German government in 1961. We'll hear more from this speech later.
The third voice belongs to Prime Minister Winston Churchill. The date was June 22, 1941 and Churchill was speaking to the British public about the German invasion of the Soviet Union, which had begun earlier that day. He said that the invasion was not a surprise to him and that, in fact, he had warned Josef Stalin about Hitler's duplicity. History shows us that Stalin was unprepared for an invasion and millions of Soviet citizens died as a result.
The fourth voice is that of Joseph Welch, who was head consul for the US Army during the Army-McCarthy hearings in 1954. We could easily fill a podcast discussing Welch's exchange with Senator Joseph McCarthy that day, but the quote you heard was made in defense of a young lawyer who worked for Welch's law firm, a man who McCarthy accussed of belonging to a Communist front organization. The hearings were televised live and many historians believe they ultimately led to the downfall of McCarthy.
Fifth is a quote from President John F. Kennedy. The date was October 22nd, 1962 and Kennedy was addressing the American people on live television, updating them on the status of what became known as the Cuban Missile Crisis. The crisis would soon end peacefully, but on that night it was open question as to whether or not there would be a nuclear exchange between the United States and the Soviet Union. The crisis resulted in the installation of a hotline connecting the White House and the Kremlin.
Sixth is part of Lou Gehrig's famous speech, given on July 4th, 1939, which became known as his Farewell to Baseball Address. Gehrig had been diagnosed with ALS, but the disease would come to be called by the famous player's name.
The final voice is once again Ronald Reagan's from the Berlin Wall address we discussed earlier.
Now we move to the second intro.
Over half of this introduction is dominated by Winston Churchill. He was reading a passage written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and sent to him by President Roosevelt in January, 1941. Churchill read the passage in a radio address to the British people soon thereafter.
The second voice belongs to Edward R. Murrow, the American correspondant in London for CBS radio during the darkest days of the war. He did a lot of his reporting from rooftops where the sound of German planes and bombs could be heard clearly in the skies over London. He introduced his reports by saying, "This...is London" with the emphasis on "this". If you listen to CBS television today, that emphasis is still used.
The third and final voice for this intro is, once again, Ronald Reagan during his Berlin Wall speech in 1987.
Here's the third intro.
The first voice belongs to Neil Armstrong, the commander of Apollo 11. He is announcing that he and Buzz Aldrin have landed safely on the moon aboard the lunar lander 'Eagle'. The date was July 20th, 1969.
We return once again to Winston Churchill for our next voice. This excerpt is from a speech the Prime Minister gave in the House of Commons on June 18th, 1940, when an invasion of England by Germany seemed a real possibility. It is probably Churchill's most oft-quoted speech.
The next voice is one about which I receive the most questions. It belongs to Spiro Agnew, who served as President Richard Nixon's Vice President from 1969 to 1973. This excerpt is from a record Agnew recorded and released early in Nixon's first term entitled "Spiro T. Agnew Speaks Out". Agnew and his speechwriters were full of sometimes witty, often tongue-twisting and confusing one-liners.
The fourth voice is that of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher during her address to the House of Commons on April 3rd, 1982. The Argentinian military had invaded the Falkland Islands the day before. This led to the Falklands War and the eventual return of the islands to British control.
The final voice of this intro belongs to President Harry Truman. He was addressing the American people on August 6th, 1945, telling them about a weapon known as an atomic bomb, a device so destructive it seemed to belong to the realm of science fiction.
Here's the fourth intro.
The first voice is familiar to almost every American over 40. It is Walter Cronkite, the longtime CBS news anchor who fought back tears as he announced the death of President John Kennedy on November 22nd, 1963.
The second voice is that of Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, who announced that there would be "peace in our time" after he signed the Munich Agreement with Adolf Hitler on September 30th, 1938. The Second World War began almost exactly one year later.
The final voice is that of Jim Lovell, mission commander of Apollo 13. Lovell, Jack Swigert and Fred Haise narrowly avoided death in space after an oxygen tank rupture damaged their command module. They owed their lives to their tremendous personal courage and the incredible brainpower at NASA's disposal. The date was April 13th, 1970.
Here's the fifth and final intro.
The first voice is that of George Gay who, as an Ensign in the United States Navy, was the only survivor from Torpedo Squadron Eight based aboard the USS Hornet during the Battle of Midway in June, 1942. Gay survived the war, wrote a book about his experience and flew for TWA for over 30 years.
The second voice you heard is, again, that of Neil Armstrong announcing the landing of lunar lander 'Eagle' on the moon on July 20th, 1969.
The final voice belongs to President John F. Kennedy. This is an excerpt from his inaugural address of January 20th, 1961. This speech also contained the famous line "ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country."
Sunday, August 09, 2009
A Choice Between Evils, August 9, 1945
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Today in 1945, the second atomic bomb used in wartime was dropped on the city of Nagasaki in Japan. We have discussed this bombing and the one against Hiroshima three days before previously on this podcast, so I will not repeat the details here. What I'd like to discuss this evening is the ongoing debate over whether or not the use of nuclear weapons against two Japanese cities was justified.
The most important aspect of the debate is probably the death toll from the two bombs. Estimates vary due to poor communications and confusion in the target cities in the days after the bombings, plus the fact that some victims lived for years before succumbing to the effects of exposure to harmful amounts of radiation. Despite this, most official estimates put the number around 150,000 people for both cities. Most of the dead were civilians. Keep in mind that the firebombing of Tokyo in March, 1945 killed 73,000 people, so this number of deaths in two large cities, while horrifying to imagine, was not beyond the capability of conventional strategic bombing at that time.
President Harry S. Truman, who ultimately made the decision to use the devices against Japan, knew nothing about the existence of nuclear weapons until after President Franklin Roosevelt's death in April, 1945. Employees of the top secret Manhattan Project had been working on developing an atomic bomb since 1942; at the time, it was the largest and most expensive research and development program ever undertaken. More than 130,000 people worked on project, which produced a working bomb for testing in July, 1945; the two bombs dropped on Japan were actually the second and third weapons produced. Despite the large number of people working towards the goal of creating a working atomic weapon, very few actually knew or understood what they were working on.
Truman ordered his Secretary of War, Henry Stimson, to convene a committee of scientists and prominent civilians to advise the President on the ramifications of using atomic weapons. At the end of May, 1945, the committee released its conclusions and opinions. Part of the group supported the use of the weapons, while others supported their use against military targets only. A third contingent called for a demonstration of the weapon in a desolate part of Japan so that the government could see the destructive force that was arrayed against the Empire. This third option was dismissed over fears that if the bomb was a dud (a real possibility in early nuclear weapon construction), it could strengthen Japanese resolve. In the end, Truman decided to use the nuclear option in the hope that it would bring a swift end to the war.
The President felt justified in his desire to end the war quickly because of the carnage that loomed on the horizon. As Truman considered his decision, military leaders were finalizing plans for Operation Downfall, the invasion of the Japanese home islands. The invasion was slated to occur in two stages: Operation Olympic, the invasion of Kyushu, the southernmost of the home islands and Operation Coronet, the invasion of the area around Tokyo and Yokohama. Olympic was set to go on November 1, 1945 with Coronet following in the spring of 1946. The logistics of the invasion were staggering. The Allied naval armada would be the largest in history and would include 90% of US Navy warships on active duty at the time, a total of over 1400 vessels. 14 Army divisions, including a Commonwealth Corps from Britain, Australia and Canada, were slated to be used in the initial landing on Kyushu. The two landings would also include the entire United States Marine Corps. The President was told by his advisors to expect more than 1 million American casualties during the campaign, more than twice the number of casualties experienced by the United States in the war up to that point. While the American public had been supportive of the war to this point, one has to wonder if that support would have held up under such horrific losses.
Postwar interviews of Japanese military and government leaders revealed a plan to mobilize the civilian population, including women and children, for the fight against the invasion forces. In fact, the training for the "Patriotic Citizens Fighting Corps" had already begun. Assuming the civilian population of Kyushu and the Tokyo area would have fought against the Allied invasion, the Japanese casualties could easily have been 3 million or more.
It has been said that all wars are crimes. To an extent, this is true. War represents a failure of diplomacy. When the civil state between nations is washed away, what remains is war, which can be seen as a series of choices among evils. President Truman and his advisors stood by their decision to use nuclear weapons against two Japanese cities by claiming that they brought the war to a speedy conclusion, saving possibly millions of lives. Is this the case? Most likely yes, but some historians argue that Japan was on the verge of surrender by August, 1945, just not the unconditional surrender demanded by the Allies. The government in Tokyo was sending peace feelers to Moscow, but how serious this attempt was remains in doubt.
Some modern scholars have theorized that the bombings were meant to send a message to the Soviet Union that aggression in Europe could be devastating to Communist interests. The Red Army had already invaded the islands north of the Japanese home islands, and so the theory also suggests that the two atomic bombs were used to shorten the war before the Soviets conquered half of Japan, creating a divided nation as seen in Germany and Korea.
We have more than 60 years of hindsight on our side now; even knowing what we know, it is still difficult to place oneself in the mind of the decision makers during the summer of 1945. We will never know what an alternate course of action that August would have meant, but the fact that no nuclear weapons have been used in warfare since 1945 speaks volumes about the impression the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki left on the world.
Today in 1945, the second atomic bomb used in wartime was dropped on the city of Nagasaki in Japan. We have discussed this bombing and the one against Hiroshima three days before previously on this podcast, so I will not repeat the details here. What I'd like to discuss this evening is the ongoing debate over whether or not the use of nuclear weapons against two Japanese cities was justified.
The most important aspect of the debate is probably the death toll from the two bombs. Estimates vary due to poor communications and confusion in the target cities in the days after the bombings, plus the fact that some victims lived for years before succumbing to the effects of exposure to harmful amounts of radiation. Despite this, most official estimates put the number around 150,000 people for both cities. Most of the dead were civilians. Keep in mind that the firebombing of Tokyo in March, 1945 killed 73,000 people, so this number of deaths in two large cities, while horrifying to imagine, was not beyond the capability of conventional strategic bombing at that time.
President Harry S. Truman, who ultimately made the decision to use the devices against Japan, knew nothing about the existence of nuclear weapons until after President Franklin Roosevelt's death in April, 1945. Employees of the top secret Manhattan Project had been working on developing an atomic bomb since 1942; at the time, it was the largest and most expensive research and development program ever undertaken. More than 130,000 people worked on project, which produced a working bomb for testing in July, 1945; the two bombs dropped on Japan were actually the second and third weapons produced. Despite the large number of people working towards the goal of creating a working atomic weapon, very few actually knew or understood what they were working on.
Truman ordered his Secretary of War, Henry Stimson, to convene a committee of scientists and prominent civilians to advise the President on the ramifications of using atomic weapons. At the end of May, 1945, the committee released its conclusions and opinions. Part of the group supported the use of the weapons, while others supported their use against military targets only. A third contingent called for a demonstration of the weapon in a desolate part of Japan so that the government could see the destructive force that was arrayed against the Empire. This third option was dismissed over fears that if the bomb was a dud (a real possibility in early nuclear weapon construction), it could strengthen Japanese resolve. In the end, Truman decided to use the nuclear option in the hope that it would bring a swift end to the war.
The President felt justified in his desire to end the war quickly because of the carnage that loomed on the horizon. As Truman considered his decision, military leaders were finalizing plans for Operation Downfall, the invasion of the Japanese home islands. The invasion was slated to occur in two stages: Operation Olympic, the invasion of Kyushu, the southernmost of the home islands and Operation Coronet, the invasion of the area around Tokyo and Yokohama. Olympic was set to go on November 1, 1945 with Coronet following in the spring of 1946. The logistics of the invasion were staggering. The Allied naval armada would be the largest in history and would include 90% of US Navy warships on active duty at the time, a total of over 1400 vessels. 14 Army divisions, including a Commonwealth Corps from Britain, Australia and Canada, were slated to be used in the initial landing on Kyushu. The two landings would also include the entire United States Marine Corps. The President was told by his advisors to expect more than 1 million American casualties during the campaign, more than twice the number of casualties experienced by the United States in the war up to that point. While the American public had been supportive of the war to this point, one has to wonder if that support would have held up under such horrific losses.
Postwar interviews of Japanese military and government leaders revealed a plan to mobilize the civilian population, including women and children, for the fight against the invasion forces. In fact, the training for the "Patriotic Citizens Fighting Corps" had already begun. Assuming the civilian population of Kyushu and the Tokyo area would have fought against the Allied invasion, the Japanese casualties could easily have been 3 million or more.
It has been said that all wars are crimes. To an extent, this is true. War represents a failure of diplomacy. When the civil state between nations is washed away, what remains is war, which can be seen as a series of choices among evils. President Truman and his advisors stood by their decision to use nuclear weapons against two Japanese cities by claiming that they brought the war to a speedy conclusion, saving possibly millions of lives. Is this the case? Most likely yes, but some historians argue that Japan was on the verge of surrender by August, 1945, just not the unconditional surrender demanded by the Allies. The government in Tokyo was sending peace feelers to Moscow, but how serious this attempt was remains in doubt.
Some modern scholars have theorized that the bombings were meant to send a message to the Soviet Union that aggression in Europe could be devastating to Communist interests. The Red Army had already invaded the islands north of the Japanese home islands, and so the theory also suggests that the two atomic bombs were used to shorten the war before the Soviets conquered half of Japan, creating a divided nation as seen in Germany and Korea.
We have more than 60 years of hindsight on our side now; even knowing what we know, it is still difficult to place oneself in the mind of the decision makers during the summer of 1945. We will never know what an alternate course of action that August would have meant, but the fact that no nuclear weapons have been used in warfare since 1945 speaks volumes about the impression the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki left on the world.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Mutiny on the Bounty, Part Two, 1789
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In episode 406 of this podcast, we discussed the mutiny which took place aboard HMS Bounty on April, 28th, 1789 and the ensuing journey by commanding Lieutenant William Bligh and 18 loyal crewmen across 3,600 miles of open ocean in a 23 foot open launch. If you have not yet listened to that episode, please go back and do so now, because it contains much of the back story you'll need for this second part of our story.
While Bligh and his party worked their way to Timor in the Dutch East Indies, Fletcher Christian and the mutineers aboard Bounty sailed for Tubuai, one of the Austral Islands that is today part of French Polynesia. After three months of fighting with the native population, however, the crew decided to head back to Tahiti. Christian and the rest of the mutineers knew they could not stay long in Tahiti since that was likely the first place the Royal Navy would look for them. However, twelve of the men who had participated in the mutiny and four who had remained loyal to Bligh but were forced to help crew the Bounty anyway decided to stay on the island and risk capture by the Royal Navy. Two of the mutineers who remained on Tahiti died during the next two years; one a victim of murder and the other murdered as an act of vendetta by the first man’s family.
It was not until March, 15th, 1790 that Lieutenant Bligh returned to London and reported the mutiny to the Admiralty. On November 7th of that year, HMS Pandora set sail with orders to search for Bounty and the mutineers. The ship carried almost twice her normal crew complement as it was assumed that a crew would be needed to bring Bounty home once she was captured. Pandora reached Tahiti in March, 1791, whereupon the four men loyal to Bligh immediately presented themselves to the ship’s crew. The remaining ten men were soon arrested and all of them, mutineers and loyal crew alike, were imprisoned inside a make shift cell on Pandora’s main deck, a small compartment which soon earned the nickname “Pandora’s Box.”
Pandora left Tahiti in May, 1791 and spent the next few months searching islands in the vicinity for signs of the Bounty. Passing through the Torres straight, the ship ran aground on the Great Barrier Reef. She sank the next day, August 30th, taking 31 crew and four of the prisoners with her. The remaining 99 men (including prisoners) set sail in four small launches and made way for Timor in the same way Bligh had done two years before. They arrived there on September 16th, 1791.
After arriving back in Britain, the ten surviving prisoners were placed on trial in front of a naval court. It is important to remember that at this time in the Royal Navy, failure to attempt to stop a mutiny was seen as being no different than being an actual mutineer. On September 18th, 1792, the ten men learned of their fate. Four of them, being designated by Bligh as loyal and innocent, were acquitted. Two more were found guilty, but pardoned; both continued in the naval service and had successful careers. One man was acquitted due to a legal technicality. The remaining three men were convicted and hanged. Both Bligh and the captain of the Pandora faced courts-martial for the loss of their ships, an automatic proceeding under naval law at the time; both were acquitted.
Half a world away and nearly three years earlier, Fletcher Christian and eight other crewmen left Tahiti hoping to stay one step ahead of the Royal Navy. With them were six Tahitian men, eleven women and one baby. Their goal was to find an island where they might begin a new life, but this was a tall order given the Royal Navy’s extensive knowledge of the area.
In January, 1790, Bounty’s crew had an incredible run of good fortune when they “rediscovered” Pitcairn Island, which was misplaced on the Royal Navy’s charts by a significant distance. The decision was taken to settle there permanently. To ensure that the Royal Navy would not find the Bounty, the ship was burned on January 23rd, 1790 in what is now called Bounty Bay.
The settlers on Pitcairn Island had high hopes for their new life. The Tahitians were homesick and the British sailors knew they would never see their homes again, but the island provided plenty of food, water and land for everyone. Fletcher Christian became the leader of the small community and was, by all reports, fair and moderate. He wanted the Tahitians to have equal say in all affairs, but some of the British resented this, which led to tension between the two groups.
In 1793, the resentment and outright hatred between some of the British and Tahitian men came to blows. Five of the mutineers, including Fletcher Christian, were killed in the fighting while all six of the Tahitian men died. The community continued to exist, with various men holding the title of leader. Babies were born and became young men and women, many of them carrying the names of their British fathers. The first ship to visit the island was the American vessel Topaz, which only made a ten-hour stop. Topaz’s captain, Mayhew Folger, reported finding Europeans living on the island, a report which eventually made its way to the British Admiralty. The island was visited by two Royal Navy vessels in 1814, which sent a party ashore but otherwise took no action for by this time, only one mutineer, John Adams, was still alive. In 1825, he was granted amnesty for his part in the mutiny. Pitcairn’s capital, Adamstown, is named in his honor.
By 1856, the community on Pitcairn island had grown such that the island was becoming uninhabitable. The British government, which now owned several islands in the area, granted the citizens Norfolk Island as a place to live.
Lieutenant William Bligh, now a full Captain, eventually made a second journey to Tahiti and collected the breadfruit plants wanted for transplant in the West Indies. It was found, however, that the slaves on Jamaica refused to eat the fruit and so the entire venture was a failure. Bligh eventually achieved the rank of Vice Admiral and was appointed the governor of New South Wales in Australia. His purpose in this appointment was to stop the illegal rum trade going on there. This ultimately led to the Rum Rebellion, a topic for another episode of this podcast. Bligh died in 1817 back at home in London.
In episode 406 of this podcast, we discussed the mutiny which took place aboard HMS Bounty on April, 28th, 1789 and the ensuing journey by commanding Lieutenant William Bligh and 18 loyal crewmen across 3,600 miles of open ocean in a 23 foot open launch. If you have not yet listened to that episode, please go back and do so now, because it contains much of the back story you'll need for this second part of our story.
While Bligh and his party worked their way to Timor in the Dutch East Indies, Fletcher Christian and the mutineers aboard Bounty sailed for Tubuai, one of the Austral Islands that is today part of French Polynesia. After three months of fighting with the native population, however, the crew decided to head back to Tahiti. Christian and the rest of the mutineers knew they could not stay long in Tahiti since that was likely the first place the Royal Navy would look for them. However, twelve of the men who had participated in the mutiny and four who had remained loyal to Bligh but were forced to help crew the Bounty anyway decided to stay on the island and risk capture by the Royal Navy. Two of the mutineers who remained on Tahiti died during the next two years; one a victim of murder and the other murdered as an act of vendetta by the first man’s family.
It was not until March, 15th, 1790 that Lieutenant Bligh returned to London and reported the mutiny to the Admiralty. On November 7th of that year, HMS Pandora set sail with orders to search for Bounty and the mutineers. The ship carried almost twice her normal crew complement as it was assumed that a crew would be needed to bring Bounty home once she was captured. Pandora reached Tahiti in March, 1791, whereupon the four men loyal to Bligh immediately presented themselves to the ship’s crew. The remaining ten men were soon arrested and all of them, mutineers and loyal crew alike, were imprisoned inside a make shift cell on Pandora’s main deck, a small compartment which soon earned the nickname “Pandora’s Box.”
Pandora left Tahiti in May, 1791 and spent the next few months searching islands in the vicinity for signs of the Bounty. Passing through the Torres straight, the ship ran aground on the Great Barrier Reef. She sank the next day, August 30th, taking 31 crew and four of the prisoners with her. The remaining 99 men (including prisoners) set sail in four small launches and made way for Timor in the same way Bligh had done two years before. They arrived there on September 16th, 1791.
After arriving back in Britain, the ten surviving prisoners were placed on trial in front of a naval court. It is important to remember that at this time in the Royal Navy, failure to attempt to stop a mutiny was seen as being no different than being an actual mutineer. On September 18th, 1792, the ten men learned of their fate. Four of them, being designated by Bligh as loyal and innocent, were acquitted. Two more were found guilty, but pardoned; both continued in the naval service and had successful careers. One man was acquitted due to a legal technicality. The remaining three men were convicted and hanged. Both Bligh and the captain of the Pandora faced courts-martial for the loss of their ships, an automatic proceeding under naval law at the time; both were acquitted.
Half a world away and nearly three years earlier, Fletcher Christian and eight other crewmen left Tahiti hoping to stay one step ahead of the Royal Navy. With them were six Tahitian men, eleven women and one baby. Their goal was to find an island where they might begin a new life, but this was a tall order given the Royal Navy’s extensive knowledge of the area.
In January, 1790, Bounty’s crew had an incredible run of good fortune when they “rediscovered” Pitcairn Island, which was misplaced on the Royal Navy’s charts by a significant distance. The decision was taken to settle there permanently. To ensure that the Royal Navy would not find the Bounty, the ship was burned on January 23rd, 1790 in what is now called Bounty Bay.
The settlers on Pitcairn Island had high hopes for their new life. The Tahitians were homesick and the British sailors knew they would never see their homes again, but the island provided plenty of food, water and land for everyone. Fletcher Christian became the leader of the small community and was, by all reports, fair and moderate. He wanted the Tahitians to have equal say in all affairs, but some of the British resented this, which led to tension between the two groups.
In 1793, the resentment and outright hatred between some of the British and Tahitian men came to blows. Five of the mutineers, including Fletcher Christian, were killed in the fighting while all six of the Tahitian men died. The community continued to exist, with various men holding the title of leader. Babies were born and became young men and women, many of them carrying the names of their British fathers. The first ship to visit the island was the American vessel Topaz, which only made a ten-hour stop. Topaz’s captain, Mayhew Folger, reported finding Europeans living on the island, a report which eventually made its way to the British Admiralty. The island was visited by two Royal Navy vessels in 1814, which sent a party ashore but otherwise took no action for by this time, only one mutineer, John Adams, was still alive. In 1825, he was granted amnesty for his part in the mutiny. Pitcairn’s capital, Adamstown, is named in his honor.
By 1856, the community on Pitcairn island had grown such that the island was becoming uninhabitable. The British government, which now owned several islands in the area, granted the citizens Norfolk Island as a place to live.
Lieutenant William Bligh, now a full Captain, eventually made a second journey to Tahiti and collected the breadfruit plants wanted for transplant in the West Indies. It was found, however, that the slaves on Jamaica refused to eat the fruit and so the entire venture was a failure. Bligh eventually achieved the rank of Vice Admiral and was appointed the governor of New South Wales in Australia. His purpose in this appointment was to stop the illegal rum trade going on there. This ultimately led to the Rum Rebellion, a topic for another episode of this podcast. Bligh died in 1817 back at home in London.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Federal-Aid Highway Act Signed, June 29, 1956
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Fifty-three years ago today, US President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956. This act established what became known as The Dwight D. Eisenhower National System of Interstate and Defense Highways, commonly called the Interstate Highway System. The project remains the largest public works project in history. The entire system has a total length of nearly 47,000 miles, making it the largest highway system in the world.
Eisenhower's support of the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956 can be directly traced to 1919 and his experiences participating in the U.S. Army's first Transcontinental Motor Convoy across the United States. Following the historic Lincoln Highway, the first road built across the entire nation, the trip from Washington D.C. to San Francisco took two months to complete over the summer of 1919. Over the course of this journey, bridges cracked and had to be repaired, and vehicles were repeatedly stuck in mud.
Eisenhower’s observations and experiences on the Autobahn in Germany during World War II drove home the need for a national highway system in the United States. In his book 'At Ease: Stories I Tell to Friends', Eisenhower wrote, "The old convoy had started me thinking about good, two-lane highways, but Germany had made me see the wisdom of broader ribbons across the land."
Eisenhower’s support of the Highway Act was centrally based on his strong belief that the Interstate System was needed for the purpose of national defense. The military would need to have good roads for transporting equipment and troops in times of crisis. It was a valid point: the cross-country trip that took two months to complete in 1919 needed to be completed in a matter of days. Contrary to popular belief, no section of the Interstate Highway System was ever intended to be used as a runway by military aircraft, although many light planes have made emergency landings on interstates over the years.
Even though it is now difficult to imagine, Americans in the first five decades of the 20th century had to make due with a system of highways that barely deserved the name. At the turn of the century, the brand-new automobile quickly caught the fancy of the American public. In 1900, roughly 5,000 cars were produced. By 1917, approximately 3.5 million automobiles were registered in the United States. The new autos immediately pointed out the inadequacies of the current system of roads in America. First, roads had previously been designed for horses or iron-wheeled wagons. When the much heavier cars started whizzing along at twenty miles per hour on pneumatic tires, the old roads were quickly torn to shreds. Constant mud also took a toll on the cars' engines and undercarriages, which were not meant be used off of paved roads . Finally, there simply weren’t enough roads connecting enough places. People who needed to travel cross-country at this time still took the train; roads were mostly used for local travel.
And so, new roads needed to be built. The car, and therefore the necessary road construction, was a new business. In the beginning, there were no federal organizations to plan and dictate the structures needed for the new automobile. In fact, by 1913 few states had even formed highway departments. It was up to local authorities to figure out how and where to build roads. Concrete and asphalt were soon discovered to be the best materials for the new roads, and local construction escalated. By 1947 there existed a set of U.S. highways that served 209 of 237 cities with populations of 50,000 or more and had a total length of 37,600 miles. In 1956 portions of this system were incorporated and upgraded as part of Eisenhower’s Federal-Aid Highway Act.
Even though the Interstate Highway System continues to be expanded, the last section of the original 1956 plan was completed in 1992 at Glenwood Canyon, Colorado. As of 2004, a section of I-75 north of Atlanta, near the interchange with Interstate 285, has 15 lanes, making it the widest section of the Interstate System. The longest Interstate Highway is Interstate 90, which runs 3,099 miles between Boston, Massachusetts and Seattle, Washington. The heaviest traveled section is Interstate 405 in Los Angeles, California, with approximately 390,000 vehicles a day.
Fifty-three years ago today, US President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956. This act established what became known as The Dwight D. Eisenhower National System of Interstate and Defense Highways, commonly called the Interstate Highway System. The project remains the largest public works project in history. The entire system has a total length of nearly 47,000 miles, making it the largest highway system in the world.
Eisenhower's support of the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956 can be directly traced to 1919 and his experiences participating in the U.S. Army's first Transcontinental Motor Convoy across the United States. Following the historic Lincoln Highway, the first road built across the entire nation, the trip from Washington D.C. to San Francisco took two months to complete over the summer of 1919. Over the course of this journey, bridges cracked and had to be repaired, and vehicles were repeatedly stuck in mud.
Eisenhower’s observations and experiences on the Autobahn in Germany during World War II drove home the need for a national highway system in the United States. In his book 'At Ease: Stories I Tell to Friends', Eisenhower wrote, "The old convoy had started me thinking about good, two-lane highways, but Germany had made me see the wisdom of broader ribbons across the land."
Eisenhower’s support of the Highway Act was centrally based on his strong belief that the Interstate System was needed for the purpose of national defense. The military would need to have good roads for transporting equipment and troops in times of crisis. It was a valid point: the cross-country trip that took two months to complete in 1919 needed to be completed in a matter of days. Contrary to popular belief, no section of the Interstate Highway System was ever intended to be used as a runway by military aircraft, although many light planes have made emergency landings on interstates over the years.
Even though it is now difficult to imagine, Americans in the first five decades of the 20th century had to make due with a system of highways that barely deserved the name. At the turn of the century, the brand-new automobile quickly caught the fancy of the American public. In 1900, roughly 5,000 cars were produced. By 1917, approximately 3.5 million automobiles were registered in the United States. The new autos immediately pointed out the inadequacies of the current system of roads in America. First, roads had previously been designed for horses or iron-wheeled wagons. When the much heavier cars started whizzing along at twenty miles per hour on pneumatic tires, the old roads were quickly torn to shreds. Constant mud also took a toll on the cars' engines and undercarriages, which were not meant be used off of paved roads . Finally, there simply weren’t enough roads connecting enough places. People who needed to travel cross-country at this time still took the train; roads were mostly used for local travel.
And so, new roads needed to be built. The car, and therefore the necessary road construction, was a new business. In the beginning, there were no federal organizations to plan and dictate the structures needed for the new automobile. In fact, by 1913 few states had even formed highway departments. It was up to local authorities to figure out how and where to build roads. Concrete and asphalt were soon discovered to be the best materials for the new roads, and local construction escalated. By 1947 there existed a set of U.S. highways that served 209 of 237 cities with populations of 50,000 or more and had a total length of 37,600 miles. In 1956 portions of this system were incorporated and upgraded as part of Eisenhower’s Federal-Aid Highway Act.
Even though the Interstate Highway System continues to be expanded, the last section of the original 1956 plan was completed in 1992 at Glenwood Canyon, Colorado. As of 2004, a section of I-75 north of Atlanta, near the interchange with Interstate 285, has 15 lanes, making it the widest section of the Interstate System. The longest Interstate Highway is Interstate 90, which runs 3,099 miles between Boston, Massachusetts and Seattle, Washington. The heaviest traveled section is Interstate 405 in Los Angeles, California, with approximately 390,000 vehicles a day.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Dancing Mania Breaks Out, June 24, 1374
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Today in 1374, much of the population of Aachen, Germany was struck by dancing mania, a type of social phenomenon. What exactly caused the mania is unknown, although several theories have been put forward as an explanation. What’s more, instances of dancing mania occurred throughout Europe from the late 1300’s through the middle of the 18th century. The Aachen outbreak was the first to be written about extensively by contemporary witnesses.
Medicine in medieval Europe was crude at best. Many ailments were treated with either foul-tasting mixtures or by bleeding the patient, a procedure that did more harm than good in almost all cases. Other illnesses could not be treated at all; dancing mania fell into this category. So even though outbreaks of the mania were well-documented and sometimes involved thousands of people, local doctors and civic leaders could do little as people danced until they collapsed from exhaustion or died from heart attacks. Some towns employed musicians when an outbreak occurred in the belief that music has a healing effect on the soul of the afflicted. As was common with many misunderstood phenomenon in those days, many local church leaders considered victims of the mania to be possessed, a belief that led to many exorcisms being performed. Family and friends of sufferers offered prayers to Saint Vitus, the patron saint of dancers and other types of entertainers.
Dancing mania broke out in small villages and large cities all over continental Europe. The only thing linking these locations is the fact that almost all of them were located on routes used by pilgrims to visit holy sites. Perhaps the best documented case of an outbreak of dancing mania occurred in Strasbourg, France and became known as the Dancing Plague of 1518, which took place in July of that year. The outbreak began with one woman, who was seen dancing in the street for between four and six days. Within a week, more than 30 people had joined her; over the course of the next month, 400 more people were afflicted. Most of that number died, either from exhaustion, stroke or heart attack. Local doctors came to believe the mania was caused by “hot blood”, although the records they kept do not define what they thought this condition actually was or what caused it.
Only one incidence of dancing mania has been recorded since 1800, that being in Madagascar in the 1840’s. A laughing epidemic with similar properties occurred in part of Tanzania in 1962, although the number of people affected varies according to source. Other than these two incidents, public manias such as dancing mania seem to have died out.
Modern historians and medical professionals have put forth a number of theories in an effort to explain dancing mania. One theory is that the sufferers had ergot poisoning, referred to as “St. Anthony’s Fire” during the Middle Ages. Ergot is a fungus that can infect rye, which when eaten is psychoactive. People suffering from ergot poisoning can suffer spasms and hallucinations. However, the spasms cannot reasonably be described as dancing and they do not last for days.
Another possibility is that the dancing mania was caused by the onset of the disease known as Saint Vitus’ Dance, or Sydenham’s chorea, which results in jerking motions of the limbs and face brought on by a streptococcus infection in childhood. While this would certainly explain the dancing motion observed by contemporaries of the mania, it is highly unlikely that hundreds of people would have been struck by the disease simultaneously. The same can be said of Apraxia, a neurological disorder in which victims lose the ability to carry out the movements they intended.
Although we will never know with certainty, it is also possible that dancing mania could have been caused by what is now termed mass psychogenic illness, or mass hysteria. Other events in history show us that it is possible for large numbers of people, numbering even into the thousands, to believe that they saw something or are suffering from the same illness. Some modern professionals have attributed religious miracles and demonstrations as examples of mass hysteria, although this is a hotly debated topic, especially with regard to apparitions involving the Virgin Mary.
Mass hysteria cases have been attributed to unusual levels of stress placed upon the groups involved. With this in mind, it is not unreasonable to think that mass hysteria was much more likely to occur in the towns and villages of medieval Europe. Starvation was only one bad harvest away for most people. Even when there was enough to eat, there was the constant stress of farming land that the farmer did not own for a local lord who claimed a large percentage of every crop for his own use or to sell. The vast majority of people lived in this state of near-permanent bondage for their entire lives. Most were illiterate and the only information they received from the outside world either came from travelers or from their local pastor. In such an environment, it is not hard imagine that one unusual occurrence could turn a town into a chaotic mess in which mass hysteria could become a real possibility.
Today in 1374, much of the population of Aachen, Germany was struck by dancing mania, a type of social phenomenon. What exactly caused the mania is unknown, although several theories have been put forward as an explanation. What’s more, instances of dancing mania occurred throughout Europe from the late 1300’s through the middle of the 18th century. The Aachen outbreak was the first to be written about extensively by contemporary witnesses.
Medicine in medieval Europe was crude at best. Many ailments were treated with either foul-tasting mixtures or by bleeding the patient, a procedure that did more harm than good in almost all cases. Other illnesses could not be treated at all; dancing mania fell into this category. So even though outbreaks of the mania were well-documented and sometimes involved thousands of people, local doctors and civic leaders could do little as people danced until they collapsed from exhaustion or died from heart attacks. Some towns employed musicians when an outbreak occurred in the belief that music has a healing effect on the soul of the afflicted. As was common with many misunderstood phenomenon in those days, many local church leaders considered victims of the mania to be possessed, a belief that led to many exorcisms being performed. Family and friends of sufferers offered prayers to Saint Vitus, the patron saint of dancers and other types of entertainers.
Dancing mania broke out in small villages and large cities all over continental Europe. The only thing linking these locations is the fact that almost all of them were located on routes used by pilgrims to visit holy sites. Perhaps the best documented case of an outbreak of dancing mania occurred in Strasbourg, France and became known as the Dancing Plague of 1518, which took place in July of that year. The outbreak began with one woman, who was seen dancing in the street for between four and six days. Within a week, more than 30 people had joined her; over the course of the next month, 400 more people were afflicted. Most of that number died, either from exhaustion, stroke or heart attack. Local doctors came to believe the mania was caused by “hot blood”, although the records they kept do not define what they thought this condition actually was or what caused it.
Only one incidence of dancing mania has been recorded since 1800, that being in Madagascar in the 1840’s. A laughing epidemic with similar properties occurred in part of Tanzania in 1962, although the number of people affected varies according to source. Other than these two incidents, public manias such as dancing mania seem to have died out.
Modern historians and medical professionals have put forth a number of theories in an effort to explain dancing mania. One theory is that the sufferers had ergot poisoning, referred to as “St. Anthony’s Fire” during the Middle Ages. Ergot is a fungus that can infect rye, which when eaten is psychoactive. People suffering from ergot poisoning can suffer spasms and hallucinations. However, the spasms cannot reasonably be described as dancing and they do not last for days.
Another possibility is that the dancing mania was caused by the onset of the disease known as Saint Vitus’ Dance, or Sydenham’s chorea, which results in jerking motions of the limbs and face brought on by a streptococcus infection in childhood. While this would certainly explain the dancing motion observed by contemporaries of the mania, it is highly unlikely that hundreds of people would have been struck by the disease simultaneously. The same can be said of Apraxia, a neurological disorder in which victims lose the ability to carry out the movements they intended.
Although we will never know with certainty, it is also possible that dancing mania could have been caused by what is now termed mass psychogenic illness, or mass hysteria. Other events in history show us that it is possible for large numbers of people, numbering even into the thousands, to believe that they saw something or are suffering from the same illness. Some modern professionals have attributed religious miracles and demonstrations as examples of mass hysteria, although this is a hotly debated topic, especially with regard to apparitions involving the Virgin Mary.
Mass hysteria cases have been attributed to unusual levels of stress placed upon the groups involved. With this in mind, it is not unreasonable to think that mass hysteria was much more likely to occur in the towns and villages of medieval Europe. Starvation was only one bad harvest away for most people. Even when there was enough to eat, there was the constant stress of farming land that the farmer did not own for a local lord who claimed a large percentage of every crop for his own use or to sell. The vast majority of people lived in this state of near-permanent bondage for their entire lives. Most were illiterate and the only information they received from the outside world either came from travelers or from their local pastor. In such an environment, it is not hard imagine that one unusual occurrence could turn a town into a chaotic mess in which mass hysteria could become a real possibility.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Bligh Arrives At Timor (Mutiny on the Bounty, Part One), June 14, 1789
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Today in 1789, Royal Navy Commanding Lieutenant William Bligh and 17 other crewmembers from the HMS Bounty reached the island of Timor after a 3,600 nautical mile journey in a 23 foot open boat. Their 47-day voyage marked the end of a long trial for those who had remained loyal to their captain during what would become one of the most famous mutinies in recorded history.
HMS Bounty was not a warship; she began life as a collier named Bethia. The Royal Navy purchased the ship in 1787, renamed her, and refitted her for one purpose: to travel to Tahiti in order to transfer breadfruit plants from there to the West Indies, where it was hoped the fruit could be used as food for the large slave population there. The man chosen to lead this expedition was Lieutenant William Bligh, a 33-year old career officer who had experience with navigation near the area of Tahiti and was familiar with the local customs, a familiarity that was crucial for the success of the mission.
Bounty’s complement was 46 in total, but Bligh was the only commissioned officer aboard. Space was tight since much of the space below decks was reserved for use by the breadfruit trees on the return trip. The trip to Tahiti was rough, with the ship attempting to round Cape Horn for a month because of bad weather. She eventually turned east and sailed round the Cape of Good Hope and across the entire width of the Indian Ocean. Bounty had been at sea for 10 straight months by the time she reached Tahiti in October, 1788.
Bounty’s crew spent five months on Tahiti, working to prepare more than one thousand breadfruit plants for transport. Captain Bligh allowed the men to live onshore during this time, and they came to know the native population of the island rather well. Some received tattoos in the native fashion, while others formed romantic relationships with native women. Master’s Mate and Acting Lieutenant Fletcher Christian went so far as to marry a Tahitian woman. Bligh was not surprised by his crew’s behavior nor was he apparently bothered by it because it helped to maintain good relations between the sailors and the native population.
HMS Bounty left paradise on April 4th, 1789 with her compliment of men and breadfruit aboard. 24 days later and 1,300 miles from Tahiti, a mutiny broke out aboard the ship. Fletcher Christian and several other men entered Bligh’s cabin, woke him up and pushed him to the deck. Except for an exchange of threats, the mutiny occurred without bloodshed. Eighteen men joined Christian in the mutiny, two were non-committal, and 22 remained loyal to Bligh. Four of the loyalists were forced to remain on the ship while the remaining 18 and Bligh were forced into the ship’s launch and set adrift with limited rations.
Much has been made in the past 220 years of Lieutenant William Bligh’s behavior as ship’s captain. It is important to remember that in the Royal Navy of the late 18th century, discipline was harsh. Even the smallest infraction could result in a sailor receiving a flogging; other penalties could result in death. By the standards of the day, Bligh was not a hard master. For example, while the Bounty was still anchored at Tahiti, three crewmen deserted from their work party, presumably to remain on the island when the ship left. All three were recaptured, whereupon Bligh ordered the men flogged instead of hanged, which was the usual punishment for such a transgression. It can be argued that the men were needed to help sail the Bounty to the West Indies, but other documents show Bligh to be no harsher than other commanders of this period.
Bligh and his 18 men found themselves in a 23-foot long open boat in the South Pacific. Their only navigation instruments were a sextant and a pocket watch. Initially, the boat was only 30 nautical miles from the island of Tofua, but landing there to acquire more rations only resulted in the death of one of the crewmen, who was stoned to death by a group of natives.
The 18 remaining men and their small launch encountered other difficulties on their journey, which by Bligh’s reckoning was 3,618 nautical miles. They arrived at Timor in the Dutch East Indies on June 14th, 1789. Shortly after landing, two of the men died. Three others would die in the following months, all due to their long open ocean journey.
The Bounty and the mutineers who now commanded her had their own difficulties, which we will discuss in part two of this podcast.
Today in 1789, Royal Navy Commanding Lieutenant William Bligh and 17 other crewmembers from the HMS Bounty reached the island of Timor after a 3,600 nautical mile journey in a 23 foot open boat. Their 47-day voyage marked the end of a long trial for those who had remained loyal to their captain during what would become one of the most famous mutinies in recorded history.
HMS Bounty was not a warship; she began life as a collier named Bethia. The Royal Navy purchased the ship in 1787, renamed her, and refitted her for one purpose: to travel to Tahiti in order to transfer breadfruit plants from there to the West Indies, where it was hoped the fruit could be used as food for the large slave population there. The man chosen to lead this expedition was Lieutenant William Bligh, a 33-year old career officer who had experience with navigation near the area of Tahiti and was familiar with the local customs, a familiarity that was crucial for the success of the mission.
Bounty’s complement was 46 in total, but Bligh was the only commissioned officer aboard. Space was tight since much of the space below decks was reserved for use by the breadfruit trees on the return trip. The trip to Tahiti was rough, with the ship attempting to round Cape Horn for a month because of bad weather. She eventually turned east and sailed round the Cape of Good Hope and across the entire width of the Indian Ocean. Bounty had been at sea for 10 straight months by the time she reached Tahiti in October, 1788.
Bounty’s crew spent five months on Tahiti, working to prepare more than one thousand breadfruit plants for transport. Captain Bligh allowed the men to live onshore during this time, and they came to know the native population of the island rather well. Some received tattoos in the native fashion, while others formed romantic relationships with native women. Master’s Mate and Acting Lieutenant Fletcher Christian went so far as to marry a Tahitian woman. Bligh was not surprised by his crew’s behavior nor was he apparently bothered by it because it helped to maintain good relations between the sailors and the native population.
HMS Bounty left paradise on April 4th, 1789 with her compliment of men and breadfruit aboard. 24 days later and 1,300 miles from Tahiti, a mutiny broke out aboard the ship. Fletcher Christian and several other men entered Bligh’s cabin, woke him up and pushed him to the deck. Except for an exchange of threats, the mutiny occurred without bloodshed. Eighteen men joined Christian in the mutiny, two were non-committal, and 22 remained loyal to Bligh. Four of the loyalists were forced to remain on the ship while the remaining 18 and Bligh were forced into the ship’s launch and set adrift with limited rations.
Much has been made in the past 220 years of Lieutenant William Bligh’s behavior as ship’s captain. It is important to remember that in the Royal Navy of the late 18th century, discipline was harsh. Even the smallest infraction could result in a sailor receiving a flogging; other penalties could result in death. By the standards of the day, Bligh was not a hard master. For example, while the Bounty was still anchored at Tahiti, three crewmen deserted from their work party, presumably to remain on the island when the ship left. All three were recaptured, whereupon Bligh ordered the men flogged instead of hanged, which was the usual punishment for such a transgression. It can be argued that the men were needed to help sail the Bounty to the West Indies, but other documents show Bligh to be no harsher than other commanders of this period.
Bligh and his 18 men found themselves in a 23-foot long open boat in the South Pacific. Their only navigation instruments were a sextant and a pocket watch. Initially, the boat was only 30 nautical miles from the island of Tofua, but landing there to acquire more rations only resulted in the death of one of the crewmen, who was stoned to death by a group of natives.
The 18 remaining men and their small launch encountered other difficulties on their journey, which by Bligh’s reckoning was 3,618 nautical miles. They arrived at Timor in the Dutch East Indies on June 14th, 1789. Shortly after landing, two of the men died. Three others would die in the following months, all due to their long open ocean journey.
The Bounty and the mutineers who now commanded her had their own difficulties, which we will discuss in part two of this podcast.
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Pyle At Normandy, June 6, 1944
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We have discussed the invasion of Normandy here before. D-Day, as it was called, was a monumental logistical effort put forth by the Allies in the hope they could grab a foothold in France and, thus, begin the liberation of Northwest Europe. The liberation of the Europe continent as a whole had begun with the invasion of Italy in September, 1943, but Operation Overlord, as the Normandy invasion was called, was to be the beginning of one of the stabs towards the heart of Germany, the other being the Soviet offensive coming from the east.
Instead of talking about raw numbers and the events of that longest of days, I have decided to let someone else tell the story of D-Day from his perspective. That someone is Ernie Pyle, an American journalist who told the story of the Second World War as he saw it, up close and personal. His style is in some ways very personal, as if he is telling his story to a friend. His roots as the son of Indiana tenant farmers show through in his writing, making it so popular that the editor-in-chief of the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain ended up publishing his columns in over 300 newspapers. By the time of the United States’ entry into the Second World War, Pyle was already well-known in many communities.
What I am about to read are two columns Pyle submitted in the days immediately after the Normandy invasion.
Ernie Pyle eventually left the European Theatre of war and traveled to the Pacific, where he covered the invasion of Okinawa. While riding in a jeep, a Japanese machine gun opened up on him and the driver. They jumped into a ditch, where Pyle asked the driver if he was OK. As he did so, a bullet entered the side of his helmet, killing him almost instantly. Originally buried on Okinawa, he is now buried at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Hawaii.
We have discussed the invasion of Normandy here before. D-Day, as it was called, was a monumental logistical effort put forth by the Allies in the hope they could grab a foothold in France and, thus, begin the liberation of Northwest Europe. The liberation of the Europe continent as a whole had begun with the invasion of Italy in September, 1943, but Operation Overlord, as the Normandy invasion was called, was to be the beginning of one of the stabs towards the heart of Germany, the other being the Soviet offensive coming from the east.
Instead of talking about raw numbers and the events of that longest of days, I have decided to let someone else tell the story of D-Day from his perspective. That someone is Ernie Pyle, an American journalist who told the story of the Second World War as he saw it, up close and personal. His style is in some ways very personal, as if he is telling his story to a friend. His roots as the son of Indiana tenant farmers show through in his writing, making it so popular that the editor-in-chief of the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain ended up publishing his columns in over 300 newspapers. By the time of the United States’ entry into the Second World War, Pyle was already well-known in many communities.
What I am about to read are two columns Pyle submitted in the days immediately after the Normandy invasion.
Ernie Pyle eventually left the European Theatre of war and traveled to the Pacific, where he covered the invasion of Okinawa. While riding in a jeep, a Japanese machine gun opened up on him and the driver. They jumped into a ditch, where Pyle asked the driver if he was OK. As he did so, a bullet entered the side of his helmet, killing him almost instantly. Originally buried on Okinawa, he is now buried at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Hawaii.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Martha Washington Is Born, June 2, 1731
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Today in 1731, Martha Dandridge was born on Chestnut Grove plantation in the colony of Virginia. As Martha Dandridge Custis Washington, she would serve as the original First Lady of the United States.
Martha was married at the age of eighteen to Daniel Parke Custis, a wealthy plantation owner who was more than twenty years her senior. They lived at his White House Plantation, just a few miles from where Martha was born. The couple had four children, but Frances and Daniel, a daughter and son, each died before their fifth birthday. The two other children, John and Martha, each survived to become young adults.
Daniel Custis died in 1757, leaving Martha a 26-year old widow who was both landed and wealthy. It is believed that George Washington had known Daniel and Martha Custis for some years before Daniel’s death, so no formal introduction was neede before Washington visited Martha at the White House plantation twice in March, 1758. Martha was much sought after by various suitors, but it was the former Virginia militia officer, planter and politician who, in the end, won her approval. The two were married on January 6th, 1759; after several weeks at her plantation, the Washingtons, including Martha’s son and daughter, moved to Mount Vernon.
George and Martha Washington, by all accounts, had a solid, faithful marriage. They had no children together, possibly due to the smallpox George had suffered through in his youth. They raised Martha’s two surviving children together until the daughter, Martha, died during an epileptic seizure at the age of 17. Her son, John, died at the age of 27 while serving as General Washington’s aide during the siege of Yorktown in 1781; it is believed the cause of his death was typhus. George and Martha raised John’s two children, both of whom lived well into the 1850’s.
When the War for Independence began in 1775 and her husband was placed in command of the Continental Army, Martha Washington followed him to war. She was at Valley Forge during the terrible winter of 1777-1778. Letters from that period show that her very presence helped to lift morale during this low point of the war, even though most of the enlisted men and junior officers never saw the future First Lady.
When the war ended in 1783 and the United States gained status as an independent nation, it is possible to imagine that Martha Washington wanted nothing more than to return to her life at Mount Vernon. It was not to be. General Washington resigned his commission and returned to life as a private citizen that December, but his retirement was short-lived. He was persuaded by friends and associates to attend the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia in the summer of 1787; upon his arrival, he was immediately voted president of the Convention. As the new Constitution took shape, so did the office of the President. There was little doubt among most of the delegates as to who should be the first man to hold the office. To that end, George Washington, even though he did not initially want the job, was elected unanimously by the Electoral College in 1789.
Martha was less than pleased. She opposed her husband’s election to the new office and refused to attend his inauguration on April 30th, 1789 in New York City. But once in office, she assumed the duties required by her new social position. The new nation had no capital city (Washington, DC was not even surveyed until 1791), so the Washingtons lived in New York and later in Philadelphia. Both Martha and George knew that as the first people to hold their respective positions, almost everything they did within public view would become the standard for future First Families. As a result, neither of them accepted some of the more fancy titles some Americans thought fitting for the new national leader. George decided that the title “Mister President” was fitting and Martha was simply known as “Lady Washington”. The term “First Lady” did not come into common use until some years later.
George Washington’s two terms in office were not a happy time for Martha. She once wrote to one of her nieces that she felt imprisoned by the position. It made incredible demands on her time, since she was expected to keep an essentially open house that was constantly full of visiting dignitaries and federal-level office holders. As a result, the very private First Lady found that she had no privacy at all. But she also understood that the duties taken on by her husband brought with them responsibilities for her. Some of the traditions begun by Martha Washington as First Lady continue to this day.
Recently, historians have claimed that Martha actually owned a slave who was her half-sister, the product of an affair between Martha’s father and one of his slaves. While affairs of this type were certainly not unheard of at that time, Ann is not listed in the record of slaves at Mount Vernon. It is possible, of course, that she was intentionally left out to cover up the entire lineage. George Washington was quoted many times in letters expressing his growing concern over the immorality of slavery. In his will, he freed one slave who had served with him during the Revolution and ordered that the rest of them be freed upon his wife’s death. Martha did not want to wait and freed all of the Mount Vernon slaves on January 1, 1801.
After their terms as President and First Lady, the Washingtons returned to Mount Vernon. Except for his short time as the head of the early US Army, neither George nor Martha ever really traveled again. George died on December 14th, 1799. Martha outlived her husband by two years, dying at the age of 70 on May 22, 1802.
Although she had no children with George Washington, Martha’s descendants continued to play important roles in United States history. George Washington Parke Custis, one of the grandchildren raised by George and Martha, built a house in Arlington, Virginia in 1802. He and his wife had four children, although only one daughter, Mary Anna Randolph Custis, survived to adulthood. Mary Anna was herself married a young officer named Robert E. Lee in 1831 and they lived in the Arlington house. Early in the Civil War, part of the estate was seized by the US government and the family had to go all the way to the Supreme Court in order to receive proper payment for their property. Today, that land is known as Arlington National Cemetary.
As early as 1778, some Americans were referring to George Washington as the father of the country. If we accept this, then it is natural to assume Martha Washington was the mother of the country. As an example of duty, honor, loyalty and courage, Martha left an indelible impression on the nation she helped to create.
Today in 1731, Martha Dandridge was born on Chestnut Grove plantation in the colony of Virginia. As Martha Dandridge Custis Washington, she would serve as the original First Lady of the United States.
Martha was married at the age of eighteen to Daniel Parke Custis, a wealthy plantation owner who was more than twenty years her senior. They lived at his White House Plantation, just a few miles from where Martha was born. The couple had four children, but Frances and Daniel, a daughter and son, each died before their fifth birthday. The two other children, John and Martha, each survived to become young adults.
Daniel Custis died in 1757, leaving Martha a 26-year old widow who was both landed and wealthy. It is believed that George Washington had known Daniel and Martha Custis for some years before Daniel’s death, so no formal introduction was neede before Washington visited Martha at the White House plantation twice in March, 1758. Martha was much sought after by various suitors, but it was the former Virginia militia officer, planter and politician who, in the end, won her approval. The two were married on January 6th, 1759; after several weeks at her plantation, the Washingtons, including Martha’s son and daughter, moved to Mount Vernon.
George and Martha Washington, by all accounts, had a solid, faithful marriage. They had no children together, possibly due to the smallpox George had suffered through in his youth. They raised Martha’s two surviving children together until the daughter, Martha, died during an epileptic seizure at the age of 17. Her son, John, died at the age of 27 while serving as General Washington’s aide during the siege of Yorktown in 1781; it is believed the cause of his death was typhus. George and Martha raised John’s two children, both of whom lived well into the 1850’s.
When the War for Independence began in 1775 and her husband was placed in command of the Continental Army, Martha Washington followed him to war. She was at Valley Forge during the terrible winter of 1777-1778. Letters from that period show that her very presence helped to lift morale during this low point of the war, even though most of the enlisted men and junior officers never saw the future First Lady.
When the war ended in 1783 and the United States gained status as an independent nation, it is possible to imagine that Martha Washington wanted nothing more than to return to her life at Mount Vernon. It was not to be. General Washington resigned his commission and returned to life as a private citizen that December, but his retirement was short-lived. He was persuaded by friends and associates to attend the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia in the summer of 1787; upon his arrival, he was immediately voted president of the Convention. As the new Constitution took shape, so did the office of the President. There was little doubt among most of the delegates as to who should be the first man to hold the office. To that end, George Washington, even though he did not initially want the job, was elected unanimously by the Electoral College in 1789.
Martha was less than pleased. She opposed her husband’s election to the new office and refused to attend his inauguration on April 30th, 1789 in New York City. But once in office, she assumed the duties required by her new social position. The new nation had no capital city (Washington, DC was not even surveyed until 1791), so the Washingtons lived in New York and later in Philadelphia. Both Martha and George knew that as the first people to hold their respective positions, almost everything they did within public view would become the standard for future First Families. As a result, neither of them accepted some of the more fancy titles some Americans thought fitting for the new national leader. George decided that the title “Mister President” was fitting and Martha was simply known as “Lady Washington”. The term “First Lady” did not come into common use until some years later.
George Washington’s two terms in office were not a happy time for Martha. She once wrote to one of her nieces that she felt imprisoned by the position. It made incredible demands on her time, since she was expected to keep an essentially open house that was constantly full of visiting dignitaries and federal-level office holders. As a result, the very private First Lady found that she had no privacy at all. But she also understood that the duties taken on by her husband brought with them responsibilities for her. Some of the traditions begun by Martha Washington as First Lady continue to this day.
Recently, historians have claimed that Martha actually owned a slave who was her half-sister, the product of an affair between Martha’s father and one of his slaves. While affairs of this type were certainly not unheard of at that time, Ann is not listed in the record of slaves at Mount Vernon. It is possible, of course, that she was intentionally left out to cover up the entire lineage. George Washington was quoted many times in letters expressing his growing concern over the immorality of slavery. In his will, he freed one slave who had served with him during the Revolution and ordered that the rest of them be freed upon his wife’s death. Martha did not want to wait and freed all of the Mount Vernon slaves on January 1, 1801.
After their terms as President and First Lady, the Washingtons returned to Mount Vernon. Except for his short time as the head of the early US Army, neither George nor Martha ever really traveled again. George died on December 14th, 1799. Martha outlived her husband by two years, dying at the age of 70 on May 22, 1802.
Although she had no children with George Washington, Martha’s descendants continued to play important roles in United States history. George Washington Parke Custis, one of the grandchildren raised by George and Martha, built a house in Arlington, Virginia in 1802. He and his wife had four children, although only one daughter, Mary Anna Randolph Custis, survived to adulthood. Mary Anna was herself married a young officer named Robert E. Lee in 1831 and they lived in the Arlington house. Early in the Civil War, part of the estate was seized by the US government and the family had to go all the way to the Supreme Court in order to receive proper payment for their property. Today, that land is known as Arlington National Cemetary.
As early as 1778, some Americans were referring to George Washington as the father of the country. If we accept this, then it is natural to assume Martha Washington was the mother of the country. As an example of duty, honor, loyalty and courage, Martha left an indelible impression on the nation she helped to create.
Friday, May 29, 2009
The Mystery of the Scorpion Part Two, May 22, 1968
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In our last episode, we discussed the sinking of the USS Scorpion. The focus of the first episode was the facts of the case. In this second half of our story, we will spend time on some of the theories that have been put forth to explain the sinking of Scorpion, which occurred on May 22nd, 1968.
The loss of the USS Scorpion occurred between two momentous events in US history: the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King on April 4th, 1968 and the assassination of Presidential candidate Senator Robert F. Kennedy on June 5th. As a result, coverage of the loss of Scorpion quickly moved from the front page of most American newspapers. This was in stark contrast to the loss of the USS Thresher in 1963, which occurred during a comparatively quiet time in the nation. This may have been to the Pentagon's liking, because even a cursory investigation of the time line of the last cruise of Scorpion would have led to a discussion of the boat's last set of orders, something that was classified at the time.
Originally, Scorpion was due to arrive at Naval Station Norfolk at 9:30AM, May 24th. However, after she left the Mediterranean and was on her way home, she received a message from COMSUBLANT, the Navy abbreviation for Commander Submarines Atlantic, ordering her to divert to a location southwest of the Canary Islands, were a group of Soviet Navy warships were operating. This would push back Scorpion's homecoming to May 27th. In his book 'Scorpion Down', author Ed Offley states that these orders, the last Scorpion would ever receive, were sent on May 16th.
Initially, the Navy stated that the search for Scorpion began on May 27th, the day she failed to arrive back at Norfolk. Years later, documents released by the Department of the Defense showed that at least one ship, the USS Josephus Daniels, put to sea on May 18th to search for Scorpion. The same group of documents show that some time between May 18th and May 22nd, Scorpion sent a message stating that she was being followed by a Soviet submarine and could not evade the Russian boat. These two facts taken together tell us that the Navy knew as early as May 18th that Scorpion was potentially in trouble, although she did supposedly transmit her position as late as May 21st. Regardless, it is clear that the Navy knew of the loss of Scorpion at least six days before May 27th.
According to Offley, this omission on the part of the Navy was intentional for one reason: the top admirals in the Pentagon suspected that Scorpion had been sunk by a Soviet warship. Years later, after the fall of the Soviet Union, some retired Russian admirals claimed that this was, in fact, the case. They stated that Scorpion was attacked as retaliation for the loss of the K-129, a Soviet diesel submarine which sank off the north coast of Hawaii in early 1968. Soviet naval leaders believed the K-129 had been sunk by a group of US destroyers while they were attempting to force the sub to surface. Sinking the USS Scorpion was seen as a means of evening the score without starting World War III.
A board of inquiry concluded in 1969 that Scorpion was destroyed by a torpedo, likely one of her own. This conclusion was later rejected in favor of a hardware failure, a more generic assumption. There is actually evidence that Scorpion was not a healthy sub at the time of her deployment in February, 1968. Her recent overhaul had been rushed and was done at the naval base in Charleston, SC which at that time had never done an overhaul and a re-fueling on a nuclear-powered submarine. But the wreck found off the Azores gave no clear indication of anything other than a large explosion.
Many other theories exist as to what happened to the USS Scorpion, including the idea that US Navy Warrant Officer John Walker, a Soviet spy who was not caught until 1986, gave Moscow enough detailed information about secret submarine communications that the Russians knew exactly where the Scorpion was most of the time, allowing them to hunt her with ease. It is not known if the information Walker gave the Soviets beginning in 1967 was being used in early 1968, but it is certainly possible.
We will never know what happened in the Atlantic Ocean 400 miles from the Azores in May, 1968. If the USS Scorpion was deliberately attacked by the Soviet Navy, then the cover-up necessary to keep such a fact hidden for more than 40 years is nearly unprecedented in American history. If some hardware failure caused her sinking, then those responsible for her lack of readiness were never brought to task. Either way, an injustice was done.
99 men died on board the USS Scorpion. It is my belief that their families have never been told the truth. For a nation that honors those who died in service to their country, this is unacceptable.
In our last episode, we discussed the sinking of the USS Scorpion. The focus of the first episode was the facts of the case. In this second half of our story, we will spend time on some of the theories that have been put forth to explain the sinking of Scorpion, which occurred on May 22nd, 1968.
The loss of the USS Scorpion occurred between two momentous events in US history: the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King on April 4th, 1968 and the assassination of Presidential candidate Senator Robert F. Kennedy on June 5th. As a result, coverage of the loss of Scorpion quickly moved from the front page of most American newspapers. This was in stark contrast to the loss of the USS Thresher in 1963, which occurred during a comparatively quiet time in the nation. This may have been to the Pentagon's liking, because even a cursory investigation of the time line of the last cruise of Scorpion would have led to a discussion of the boat's last set of orders, something that was classified at the time.
Originally, Scorpion was due to arrive at Naval Station Norfolk at 9:30AM, May 24th. However, after she left the Mediterranean and was on her way home, she received a message from COMSUBLANT, the Navy abbreviation for Commander Submarines Atlantic, ordering her to divert to a location southwest of the Canary Islands, were a group of Soviet Navy warships were operating. This would push back Scorpion's homecoming to May 27th. In his book 'Scorpion Down', author Ed Offley states that these orders, the last Scorpion would ever receive, were sent on May 16th.
Initially, the Navy stated that the search for Scorpion began on May 27th, the day she failed to arrive back at Norfolk. Years later, documents released by the Department of the Defense showed that at least one ship, the USS Josephus Daniels, put to sea on May 18th to search for Scorpion. The same group of documents show that some time between May 18th and May 22nd, Scorpion sent a message stating that she was being followed by a Soviet submarine and could not evade the Russian boat. These two facts taken together tell us that the Navy knew as early as May 18th that Scorpion was potentially in trouble, although she did supposedly transmit her position as late as May 21st. Regardless, it is clear that the Navy knew of the loss of Scorpion at least six days before May 27th.
According to Offley, this omission on the part of the Navy was intentional for one reason: the top admirals in the Pentagon suspected that Scorpion had been sunk by a Soviet warship. Years later, after the fall of the Soviet Union, some retired Russian admirals claimed that this was, in fact, the case. They stated that Scorpion was attacked as retaliation for the loss of the K-129, a Soviet diesel submarine which sank off the north coast of Hawaii in early 1968. Soviet naval leaders believed the K-129 had been sunk by a group of US destroyers while they were attempting to force the sub to surface. Sinking the USS Scorpion was seen as a means of evening the score without starting World War III.
A board of inquiry concluded in 1969 that Scorpion was destroyed by a torpedo, likely one of her own. This conclusion was later rejected in favor of a hardware failure, a more generic assumption. There is actually evidence that Scorpion was not a healthy sub at the time of her deployment in February, 1968. Her recent overhaul had been rushed and was done at the naval base in Charleston, SC which at that time had never done an overhaul and a re-fueling on a nuclear-powered submarine. But the wreck found off the Azores gave no clear indication of anything other than a large explosion.
Many other theories exist as to what happened to the USS Scorpion, including the idea that US Navy Warrant Officer John Walker, a Soviet spy who was not caught until 1986, gave Moscow enough detailed information about secret submarine communications that the Russians knew exactly where the Scorpion was most of the time, allowing them to hunt her with ease. It is not known if the information Walker gave the Soviets beginning in 1967 was being used in early 1968, but it is certainly possible.
We will never know what happened in the Atlantic Ocean 400 miles from the Azores in May, 1968. If the USS Scorpion was deliberately attacked by the Soviet Navy, then the cover-up necessary to keep such a fact hidden for more than 40 years is nearly unprecedented in American history. If some hardware failure caused her sinking, then those responsible for her lack of readiness were never brought to task. Either way, an injustice was done.
99 men died on board the USS Scorpion. It is my belief that their families have never been told the truth. For a nation that honors those who died in service to their country, this is unacceptable.
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