Paul Tibbets died today at the age of 92. He dropped the first atomic bomb over Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. Strangely enough, he named the B-29 Bomber for his mother. The bomb, (also strangely named) Little Boy, killed 78,000 people instantly– a number which doubled by the end of the year as the radiation spread.
I recently heard that U.S. Military who went over for the clean-up efforts in Japan, referred to as Atomic Veterans, were also exposed to radiation and have suffered health problems as a result. My grandfather may have been one of them– but I’m not sure he ever considered that. When he spoke of his time in Japan, he wore a smile, recalling the wonderful culture he had the chance to discover. He lived a long, happy life– although a good twenty years shorter than Tibbets. Perhaps that’s not something I should even think about.
Have you ever heard Tibbets explain why he didn’t regret dropping the atomic bomb?
It has something to do with his belief that single acts of war cannot be judged or considered immoral. Basically, once you’re there, you’re there and you do what you’re told to do. He also said just a few year ago, “You’re gonna kill innocent people at the same time, but we’ve never fought a damn war anywhere in the world where they didn’t kill innocent people. If the newspapers would just cut out the shit: “You’ve killed so many civilians.” That’s their tough luck for being there.”
Tough sentiment to swallow, don’t you think?
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All the World is Cristina Pippa’s weekly column, which appears on Thursdays.
Well, yes, it is a tough sentiment to swallow. But he’s right in the sense that if soldiers questioned every order, it’d take a heck of a long time for any military force to get anything done.
Like Lewis Mumford was arguing in the 1960s, the military is the most powerful machine ever invented: it happens to have human pieces, but their humanity isn’t what makes them useful to the machine. The machine doesn’t work if soldiers see themselves as human, with all the responsibility for others that humanity entails.
I don’t blame soldiers for that, and I don’t think Tibbets is blaming the civilians for being unlucky enough to get killed. It really was tough luck for them, not with a “too bad, so sad” mocking tone but in all honesty. (Or was he really blaming them? Which would be awful!)
I think you’re right, Richard– that Tibbets made the comment about tough luck in earnest. I didn’t hear this interview. I only read it. Although I think we get some of his tone in “If the newspapers would just cut out the shit.”
As I went to sleep last night, I rethought this entry to CM. I wondered if it seemed like I was placing blame on this one person. It was a different time, the events were complicated and tragic, and it really wasn’t his choice. I don’t want to be one of the many who makes Tibbets the scapegoat– particularly after his death.
Hmm. Maybe I should have just written about Robert Goulet’s death. I did– after all– see him do a mean King Arthur about 15 years ago.
i love the connection you made between you grandfather and Tibbets (esp. the 20 year difference in life spans). great connections.
You’re right – if Tibbets’ crew didn’t drop the fucker, someone else would’ve in their place. The only thing insubordination would have affected would’ve been the randomness in death.
Tibbets’ pragmatism may have grown harsher over the years due to a life publicly refuting regret. I agree with the “war is shit” point he was forced to repeat year after year, but in hindsight, when the effects of the nuclear fallout became clear, I wonder if the proportionality of the consequences privately weighed on his mind. After all, people continue to die and suffer from the increased cancer rates, miscarriages, birth defects etc. years and generations after WWII ended.
Cristina: Were you at LM when we had a script pass through called “One More Day for Hiroshima”? It was a hypothetical fictional story about a Navy captain who was sent but refused to drop the A bomb on Hiroshima. The next day, the Navy follows through on its plan, altering the course of history forever, and the captain is court-martialed, made an example of by the US military and left to rot in jail for eternity. His life is destroyed, as are the lives of his wife and children. So begins the captain’s inner struggle over whether giving Hiroshima an extra day of life was worth giving up the rest of his own.
I recall it being a poignant, bittersweet “what if?” tale with, by definition, anti-(nuclear) war sentiments. Have a feeling though, that the finished film (due out next year I think) may end up maudlin and melodramatic, what with Luis Mandoki directing….
Great to see you on here again, Mark! No, I didn’t read that script. Was it actually anti-war? It sounds like (at least from this quick description of the plot) that the captain had to pay for his refusal to drop the bomb, and pay dearly at that. I’d be interested to see how it plays out.
And thanks, Scott. It’s just been strange to learn in one week that vets suffered for doing the clean-up and to hear that Tibbets just died– so the connections were easily made, for whatever they’re worth. And now to read about Iraqis being exposed to Depleted Uranium– does it ever end?
The film is less about the bombing than it is about the debate surrounding the value of life (and lives). It’s told from the modern day perspective of the incarcerated US captain and a Japanese-American journalist lobbying for his release years later. Won’t go into detail – don’t want to spoil it.
If we hadn’t ended the war by dropping the atomic bomb, we would have invaded Japan. Many Americans and Japanese (military and civilians) would have died. My uncle was assigned to the invasion force; as an infantry second lieutenant, he was at very high risk. If the war had gone on a few days longer, my father would have started a very dangerous mission in China. He was 22 and lived to be 83.