Pearl Harbour - A novel of December 8th by William R. Forstchen, Newt Gingrich Read Free Book Online

died giving birth to him, his father was remote, distant, and James sensed deep down resentful of a son who had cost him a wife. So he had grown up with a sense of being alone, until Margaret came into his life and with her a mother who took him in as if he were her own son as well. The thought that Japan was emerging as an enemy was hard to swallow in a way. How could the people who had given him such a wonderful family ever truly be an enemy?
    Cecil motioned to James’s tumbler, and he nodded agreement for a refill.
    “Oh, there are many in their government, and in their navy, who would fully agree,” Cecil continued, while he poured the scotch. “But it gets strange, to Western eyes. It has to do with race, with the gods, with an image of destiny, with their own individual submersion into a greater whole, a submersion that disdains individual worth for the greater good of the family, of the race, of this mystery of destiny. In some ways each as an individual sees himself as nothing more than a mote of dust tumbling on the wind, and that wind is national destiny. Of himself he is meaningless, but a hundred million such specks of dust, driven by the wind of national destiny, can blast down a castle wall, reshape mountains, change the world.”
    “You are beginning to sound like some of those mystics from your India.”
    Cecil smiled.
    “That’s another problem right there, and believe me, they are quick to point to it and ask if it is alright for England to be in the Raj, then why not they in China, bringing order out of chaos the same way we did a hundred years ago.”
    “Good points,” James said softly, “but damn all, there are rumors about the brutality of their occupation of Manchuria: executions of civilians, beheadings, torture.”
    Cecil nodded.
    “Dare I mention what we did in our not-so-distant past? How we put down the Sepoy Rebellion, or what about your Wounded Knee?”
    “I know, I know,” James said, sadly, “but this is the twentieth century.”
    “Exactly their point, and they want a part of that; and our arguments, when pitched on moral grounds, well, they feel they have the counter. Valid or not, it is their own self-justification, and though we might disagree we must understand that is how they see it.”
    They had been speaking in low tones and therefore the knock on the door was startling. Both stood up, falling silent. James felt a moment of paranoia, wondering if Cecil had been incautious.
    Cecil went into the house, James following, drink in hand, trying to act casual, though on reflection he realized that their conversation had been completely innocent, just mere speculation, no secrets exchanged or actions agreed upon that might offend their hosts.
    The house was a curious anomaly, actually a touch of England in a way. The school had been laid out with advice from the British navy; and as a result several of the buildings, those used by Western instructors and visitors, were European in design, complete to a print over the fireplace of a naval action from the Napoleonic Wars.
    With the houseboy off for the evening, Cecil opened the door himself and a smile creased his face.
    “Lieutenant Fuchida! A delight to see you!”
    Standing behind Cecil, James caught a glimpse of the visitor. He was a naval lieutenant, trim, sporting a narrow, dapper- looking mustache, body lean, and like nearly every naval officer he had met here, obviously in excellent condition. He was a bit tall for a Japanese, and at the sight of James he came stiffly to attention and saluted.
    Custom was, James being indoors and with hat off, a salute was not necessary, but he returned it anyway.
    “Lieutenant Mitsuo Fuchida, may I present Lieutenant Commander James Watson of the United States Navy.”
    James stepped forward to the doorway, and Fuchida, stiffly formal, bowed slightly, hesitated, then shook James’s extended hand. His grasp was warm and firm. Cecil guided their visitor in and held up his glass as a