From the Ashes of Okinawa: War, the Atomic Bomb, and the Hope for Peace

As the summer draws to a close, so does the current academic course in which I am enrolled. Throughout the summer I have used it as an opportunity to further investigate the history of PTSD in the Pacific theater and all that topic entails. Which is quite a lot. More specifically, I focused on the brutal nature of the Battle of Okinawa and its role in forcing President Truman’s hand to use atomic force for the first time in history against the Empire of Japan. A decision that has continued to impact nearly every geopolitical decision of every atomic capable country since Hiroshima and Nagasaki up until today. 

The connection between the two can be found, at least in part, in the American government’s desire to demonstrate the extent of their power to their soon to be Cold War rivals, the Soviet Union, and that same government's attempt to appease an American public desiring revenge for the attack on Pearl Harbor, longing for peace, and hoping that their son, father, brother might be make it home alive as so many others had failed to throughout the war. 

The fighting that took place on Okinawa was barbaric. In his book, "With the Old Breed: At Peleliu and Okinawa”, Eugene Sledge, an American Marine who experienced the horrors of Okinawa describes the feeling of victory after Truman’s use of the atomic bombs against Japan as, “stunned silence, we remembered our dead. So many dead, so many maimed. So many bright futures consigned to the ashes of the past. So many dreams lost in the madness that had engulfed us. Except for a few widely scattered shouts of joy, the survivors of the abyss sat hollow-eyed and silent, trying to comprehend a world without war.”

Sledge, like my grandfather, was one of the fortunate few who fought at and survived the horrors of Okinawa. Those who lived to see the tragedy of the atomic bomb and the hope of a better future, one without war. With the gift of hindsight we know that a future without war was short lived from a global and national perspective in the years and decades that would follow WWII. Instead, a new world now existed, one in which the threat of nuclear war was a primary prevention from future Okinawa’s, or Hiroshima’s, or Nagasaki’s from ever happening again. 

My grandfather, like so many heroes from the greatest generation, never told explicit war stories or recounted his warrior like deeds on the field of combat. Instead, he would direct the questions and conversation about his service to adjacent, more palatable topics, like the heady portions of steak and eggs (pronounced in an attempted Aussie accent) that he enjoyed during his time on leave in Australia. My research this summer has revealed to me the extent of the cross he carried after the war. But, I also learned that the wounds of WWII would reach out into the life of my own father who would often remember the fear and anxiety that he experienced as a boy when he would consider the very real potential for total nuclear annihilation throughout the entire of his childhood - a threat that still exist for each of us today. Yet, in spite of the ugly confrontation that I have had with reality as I continue to look closely at history, its impact on our present moment, and how it impacts our future. I have started to find hope. 

This hope comes from spiritual truths rather than historical ones. Thankfully, my father chose a life of faith in the face of fear. Honestly, I am working to do the same. This faith, and its fruit, a relationship with God have offered me hope in the midst of the storm. The trails, struggles, and obstacles of life still exist. There are still wars and rumours of wars akin to the Battle of Okinawa. The threat of nuclear engagement between world superpowers is a very real one. These unfortunate truths, and countless others continue to reveal themselves the longer one looks at any period or event in history. Most of the time history is ugly. Yet, we can have hope and put our confidence in a God who loves us, and this changes all of history: forever.