This impression was given every nourishment by Chennault who was on hand to greet Wallace in Chungking and assigned Lieutenant Alsop to him as “air aide.” Afterwards they were Wallace’s hosts in Kunming. Unaware that their day was over, Chennault and Alsop were convinced that if they could only get rid of Stilwell, air war in China would prevail. They had a persuasive ally in T. V. Soong whose interest in removing Stilwell, after the bungle of his last attempt, was greater than ever. Under their auspices Wallace not surprisingly concluded that Stilwell must go. Though favoring Chennault as successor, he was advised that Wedemeyer would be a more realistic candidate. Gauss too, when consulted, stated his opinion that the Generalissimo could no longer effectively cooperate with Stilwell.
Gauss was of course right. Stilwell might as well have been withdrawn, not for the suspect reasons of Chennault and Soong, but because his mission to mobilize the war effort of China could not overcome the unwillingness of Chiang Kai-shek to let it be mobilized. This American non possumus—a “We cannot” that contradicted the “Can Do” of the 15th Infantry—was something that neither Stilwell nor Marshall nor the bulk of their countrymen was prepared to recognize.
In a telegram which Alsop later claimed credit for composing, Wallace strongly recommended to the President the adoption of Chiang Kai-shek’s request for “a personal representative to serve as liaison between you and him.” In addition, or alternatively, he urged the replacement of Stilwell by a general officer of the highest caliber, such as Wedemeyer, who could win the Generalissimo’s confidence which Chiang had informed him “bluntly” General Stilwell did not enjoy. The telegram went on to relay the assurance always given to visiting Americans, that “with the right man to do the job it should be possible to induce the Generalissimo to reform his regime.” He was represented as anxious for aid and “even guidance” and ready to make “relatively drastic changes if wisely approached.”
Wallace did not extend himself to obtain the views of the theater commander whose removal he recommended, nor did Stilwell extend himself to give them. Occupied in his desperate struggle to hold Myitkyina and take Mogaung, he refused to leave Burma. He sent Davies and Jones to represent him and invite Wallace to meet with him in the Mogaung valley but the invitation was not accepted.
As far as they concerned Stilwell, Wallace’s recommendations were, of course, blocked by Marshall who was well informed of their source and described them to Stimson as the product of Alsop’s “usual poison.” They were in addition out of date for Wallace’s persuaders did not know that while they were endeavoring to maneuver Stilwell out of China, heavier British pressures were being brought to move him out of SEAC into China.
In another report written after his return Wallace urged that the United States should try to influence the Generalissimo in every possible way to adopt progressive policies so as to inspire popular support and instill new vitality into China’s war effort.
This was a plea that was rising insistently in reports from China. In Kunming, where the American presence was strong, Chinese liberals pleaded with the Consul-General, William Langdon, for American pressure to be brought on the Kuomintang to widen its political base; otherwise, they said, American military and financial aid would serve only to strengthen a reactionary regime. Through the official detachment of Langdon’s report their despairing voices spoke: Chiang and his clique were “incapable of building a modern nation in China” and had “no rational plans” for postwar reconstruction. Chiang himself was a man of limited ability and vision and the future of China was “dark under his leadership.” Langdon’s own conclusion, as radical as Stilwell’s, was that nothing much could help China without a change at the top. “Present trends,” he wrote, “can be changed only through the death of Chiang or by successful revolution.”
So long as American policy could not detach itself from the incumbent, Langdon’s statement of the case posed a fundamental problem. What was to be done, as one foreign service officer put it in later testimony, when “we were stuck with a regime that was losing power”? That was the crux. Was there any answer to Gauss’ hopeless shrug: “I can think of nothing….”? In a brief prepared for Wallace, John Service suggested the answer lay in broadening American options not only by support of liberal elements but also by withdrawing unconditional support for a government which in any free election would be rejected by 80 percent of the voters. A United States policy that could find no other option, he suggested, was one of “indolent short-term expediency.”
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The Joint Chiefs were not concerned with solving China’s problems but with winning the war. Their proposal in China’s crisis was the exact opposite of Wallace’s: to enlarge rather than terminate Stilwell’s authority in China—in short, to put him in command of the Chinese armed forces.
The success of ICHIGO was the determining factor, but not because of the approaching loss of the east China air bases. Strategic weight had shifted definitely to the Pacific on June 15 when Saipan in the Marianas, within bombing distance of Japan, was invaded. After a fierce three-week struggle the island was secured and construction of airfields for the B-29s begun. This reduced the importance of China as an air base, but another problem remained.
The success of ICHIGO and the Chinese military passivity in the face of it raised the fear that the Japanese army in China might root itself into the mainland and continue to fight even after defeat of the home islands, prolonging the war perhaps for years before it could be conquered. In that event, Russia’s entry into the war would take on added importance and give her added opportunity in Manchuria, not altogether a welcome prospect. Even less welcome in Washington was the thought of transferring GIs to Asia after the war in Europe was won, to the accompanying howl of the American public. Stilwell made the danger of a Japanese prolongation the basis for one of his periodic pleas for American divisions, arguing that if China were bypassed, the Japanese on the mainland would not surrender and the Chinese alone would be too weak to cope with them.
The Joint Chiefs’ recipe for China’s paralysis was to use Stilwell himself in lieu of American divisions. Thus was born the plan to put him in command of the Chinese armed forces with authority to energize and direct a Chinese military effort. It had the added advantage of satisfying the British insistence that he be moved out of SEAC into China. This had now reached the status of an official demand. When Marshall visited London in June he was told by his opposite number, Sir Alan Brooke, that Stilwell would have to be relieved as Deputy to Mountbatten because he could not get on with the three service chiefs. Offense at his handling of the Chindits and his freedom of expression as a limey-hater were added factors.*2 Marshall’s anger flared: “Brooke, you have three CinCs in India; none of them will fight. We have one man who will fight and you want him taken out. What the hell kind of business is this?” Though Brooke was “enraged” by this attitude, his acknowledgment that the three service chiefs were all being recalled, at Mountbatten’s insistence, deprived Marshall of an issue.
China’s situation was pulling and the British pushing toward a common solution and Marshall seized it. The idea originated in Stilwell’s own concept of a “Field Chief of Staff” with power to coordinate, which he had discussed with Marshall at Cairo. To go with the enlarged command Marshall proposed to promote him to full general. On June 30 the War Department drew up an eloquent statement of the case for promotion and the new command pointing out that Stilwell had “welded an effective Chinese army in Burma” against every kind of obstacle including the apathy of his allies, and in the drive for Myitkyina had “staged a campaign that history will call brilliant.”
By this time there had been two and a half years’ experience of China’s lack of interest in taking aggressive action against the Japanese. What made the War Department suppose that Chiang Kai-shek’s fixed intent could be altered and performance somehow dragged from him? One answer was the self-confidence of the American military. In CBI, for all its miseries, they had already a
ccomplished extraordinary feats—the Ledo Road, the Hump, the pipeline, the “impossible” return through north Burma. Why should the Generalissimo prove more formidable? It always seemed possible that with sufficient pressure he could be made to do what Americans wanted him to do. Besides, with the enlarged capacity of the Hump and the imminent opening of the pipeline and Road to carry forward the now enormously increased capacity of the Assam-Bengal Railway, the logistical means at hand were very much greater. And Chiang’s ability to resist American pressure in his current situation was considered to be very much reduced. In any event the alternative to a step-up for Stilwell would sooner or later have been his withdrawal and the succumbing to his enemies that Marshall had so long and so resolutely resisted. In putting the question to Stilwell on July 1 he did not mention the promotion so that it could not influence his decision.
Was it, he asked, in Stilwell’s opinion worthwhile, once Myitkyina had been secured, to transfer his principal efforts to the “rehabilitation and in effect the direction” of the Chinese forces in China proper? He told him tactfully that the British were pressing for a “readjustment of command relationships.” He acknowledged that Stilwell had already had more than his share of complications “which beset you in a degree I do not believe any other commander of modern times has experienced.” Clearly aware that he was offering no prize, he finished, “Don’t let the humidity and difficulties of the day culminate in an explosion.”
Stilwell’s answer was not a simple “I’ll go where I’m sent.” If he felt any relish at the personal challenge to the Generalissimo, it was outweighed by the difficulties and calamities of the situation he was being called upon to save. He put these in the bleakest, most unmistakable terms to Marshall:
…If the President were to send him a very stiff message, emphasizing our investment and interest in China, and also the serious pass to which China has come due to neglect of the Army, and insisting that desperate cases require desperate remedies, the G–mo might be forced to give me a command job. I believe the Chinese Army would accept me. Ho Ying-chin would have to step out as Chief of Staff, or if he kept the title, give up the power. Without complete authority over the Army, I would not attempt the job. Even with complete authority the damage done is so tremendous that I can see only one chance to repair it. This is to stage a counter-offensive from Shansi….The Communists should also participate in Shansi, but unless the G–mo makes an agreement with them, they won’t. Two years ago they offered to fight with me. They might listen now….Outside of this one shot I see no chance to save the situation….To sum up, there is still a faint chance to salvage something in China but action must be quick and radical and the G–mo must give one commander full powers….The chances are definitely not good, but I can see no other solution at the moment.
This was anything but an eager acceptance, but Marshall gave him no leeway. Within 24 hours he submitted to the President, in the name of the Joint Chiefs, his proposal for Stilwell’s promotion and appointment to command the Chinese armed forces and also the text of the message—incorporating much of Stilwell’s advice and some of his wording—that was to inform Chiang Kai-shek. To allow Roosevelt no room to refuse he prefaced it by a harsh summary of results since TRIDENT which rather rudely reminded the Commander-in-Chief that the immense effort in transportation to supply Chennault had proved a “poorly directed and possibly completely wasteful procedure,” and that Stilwell had been right all along in predicting that the effectiveness of the Fourteenth Air Force would only provoke counterattack on the airfields and that their necessary defense lay in building up combat efficiency on the ground.
For Roosevelt the proposal meant a complete about-face in his view of how the Generalissimo should be treated, but after Cairo he was more ready to make it. Bewildered by the problem of China, and backed into a corner by Marshall, he accepted the recommendation in toto. As a pragmatist, he was now willing to try Stilwell as he had once tried Chennault. Whether he believed that Chiang Kai-shek could be made to consent is impossible to say. The Generalissimo’s constant cries of weakness may have suggested that he could not afford to refuse; in any event Roosevelt had come to recognize that militarily nothing could be expected of Chiang. “What I am trying to find out,” he had said to Kung a few days earlier, “is where is the Chinese army and why aren’t they fighting because the Japanese seem to be able to push them in any direction they want to.” Since neither he nor the Joint Chiefs knew what else to try, the assignment was handed to Stilwell. As the climax of the wartime effort in China, the proposal to put an American in command of China’s armed forces represented in part a profound faith in the efficacy of American influence and in part a last resort.
The “very stiff message” that Stilwell wanted, signed by the President without change from the War Department’s draft, was forthwith despatched to the Generalissimo on July 6:
…The critical situation which now exists in my opinion calls for the delegation to one individual of the power to coordinate all Allied military resources in China, including the Communist forces.
I think I am fully aware of your feelings regarding General Stilwell, nevertheless…I know of no other man who has the ability, the force and the determination to offset the disaster which now threatens China and our over-all plans for the conquest of Japan. I am promoting Stilwell to the rank of full General and I recommend for your most urgent consideration that you recall him from Burma and place him directly under you in command of all Chinese and American forces and that you charge him with full responsibility and authority for the coordination and direction of the operations required to stem the tide of the enemy’s advances. I feel that the case of China is so desperate that if radical and properly applied remedies are not immediately effected, our common cause will suffer a serious setback.
…I assure you there is no intent on my part to dictate to you in matters concerning China; however, the future of all Asia is at stake along with the tremendous effort which America has expended in that region. Therefore I have reason for a profound interest in the matter.
Please have in mind that it has clearly been demonstrated in Italy, in France, and in the Pacific that air power alone cannot stop a determined enemy.
The President’s message made no attempt to spare the Generalissimo’s feelings or avoid the frankness so distasteful to the Chinese. It bluntly rejected the known policies of Chiang Kai-shek: it asked for power within the Chinese state for an American whom he had repeatedly tried to remove; it discarded the Chiang-Chennault thesis of reliance on air warfare which Roosevelt had gone to such lengths to uphold the year before; and it specifically proposed to bring within the scope of American aid Chiang’s feared internal enemies, the Communists. In tone it was rough and in substance it was an invasion of sovereignty that denied Roosevelt’s own concept of China as a great power and accepted Stilwell’s view of Chiang as incapable of managing his country’s role in the war. It called him Peanut by implication.
Lest there be any softening of the terms in transmission, after the habit of T. V. Soong, Roosevelt’s message was delivered to Chiang in person by General Ferris, then senior officer in Chungking, with Service accompanying him as translator. This procedure, which was to figure in the final clash, had been ordered by the President in May when it had been noticed that Chiang’s replies to Roosevelt’s telegrams urging action by the Y-force were not fitting the messages.
Stilwell was now informed by Marshall of his promotion and the terms of the President’s message, coupled with a stern warning to avoid further offense to the Generalissimo.
What Chiang’s emotions were on receiving Roosevelt’s demand are not a matter of historical record, but it can be said that regardless of Stilwell’s faults and offenses, even had he had the tongue of angels, the temperament of a saint and the professional charm of a Japanese geisha, the Generalissimo would still have had no more intention of giving him command of his armed forces than of giving it to Mao Tse-tung. “Today a fateful de
cision is again being made in Washington,” T. V. Soong telegraphed Hopkins. “The War Department wants to force General Stilwell down his [Chiang Kai-shek’s] throat…I personally assure you without qualification that on this point the Generalissimo will not and cannot yield.”*3
In view of his dependence on American aid, however, Chiang had to move carefully. His reply was soft, even deferential and appeared to be an acceptance except in the matter of urgency. He suggested a “preparatory period in order to enable General Stilwell to have absolute command of the Chinese troops without any hindrance.” He repeated his request for an intermediary who would have “full power” and “could adjust the relations between me and General Stilwell.” As Soong frankly explained to Gauss, this meant someone empowered to give Stilwell orders. Chiang allowed himself only one hint of displeasure—with regard to the method of delivery. He suggested that if the President had any messages for him in future they could be given to Dr. Kung to transmit.
The idea of a personal emissary was agreeable to Roosevelt, if not at all to Marshall, and while this matter was under discussion Chiang’s qualifications began to come in. On July 23 he attached three conditions: the Communists were not to come under Stilwell’s command until they accepted the authority of the Central Government; the limits of Stilwell’s position in relation to himself were to be clearly defined; Lend-Lease was to be “entirely under the authority of the Chinese Government.” A further limitation emerged from talks held with Kung in Washington from which it appeared that Chiang conceived of the command as confined to those Chinese divisions actually engaged against the Japanese, not those in reserve.