ISBN 1-58544-246-1
557 pages

Foreword; Preface; Acknowledgments; Prologue; maps; photos; Notes; Sources; Index

Appendices: Japanese Naval Air Strength; Japanese Army Air Strength; Far East Air Force Strength; Order of Battle, Tainan Kokutai; Order of Battle, 3rd Kokutai; Officers of the 24th Pursuit Group; Officers of the 19th Bomb Group; Far East Air Force KIA; B-17s of the 19th Bomb Group; Japanese Naval Terminology

   William Bartsch has already written about the 1941-1942 air war in the Philippines. His Doomed at the Start, published in 1992, recounted the story of American "pursuit" pilots during the Philippine campaign. More than ten years after that well-received work, Bartsch revisits the scene with a book that takes the same events, narrows the time frame, broadens the scope, and adds considerably more information. By interweaving multiple threads—the stories of individual airmen, the war in the air, the view from opposing HQs, and the political-strategic imperatives that propelled decision-making at the highest levels—Bartsch has produced the finest account yet written of the initial Philippines disaster and its making. MacArthur's Pearl Harbor also qualifies as one of the best books of 2003.
   Structurally and stylistically more sophisticated than the typical WWII-related history, Bartsch divides his book into four chronological parts. Each part opens with a survey of the geo-political and strategic events of that period, with an emphasis on the debates and decisions taking place in Tokyo and Washington, DC. This material provides the background for what's to come in the ensuing chapters of each part of the book. Reading the introductory material for each part makes it clear how American strategy evolved from a policy of writing off the Philippines and withholding reinforcements, to—in the face of Japan's aggressive moves in southeast Asia—sending the best new American aircraft, including the B-17 bomber, to the Philippines to defend the colony and to deter further Japanese moves. By juxtaposing American and Japanese decision-making, Bartsch allows the reader to see for themselves, without actually spelling it out, how moves made by the United States as deterrents were sometimes interpreted by the Japanese as provocations.
   Outside the introductory material for each part of the book, Bartsch clearly demonstrates how the decisions made in Tokyo and Washington affected men at the most personal and sometimes mundane levels. For example, to the American pilots planning a big party in Manila, Japan's dramatic move into Indochina in July 1941 meant something more than just a newspaper headline.

   On the morning of Friday, July 25, all the pilots were in a good mood. They were going to spend the weekend in Manila, a welcome break from the deadly monotony of camp life. There would be a big party for them Saturday night at the Iniet Birdman's Association house. A couple of bombers would pick them up that afternoon for the hop down to Manila, then fly them back to Iba on Sunday morning. At noon, however, the plans fell through. A wire from PDAF headquarters directed that all flying stop, that the squadron's P-35As' machine guns be bore sighted and ammunition loaded, and that all leaves be canceled.
   Buzz Wagner flew to Manila to find out what was happening. When he returned, he brought alarming news: navy PBY patrol planes on a regular reconnaissance patrol had spotted a large Japanese convoy headed south on the China Sea. Although they were most likely en route to French Indochina, no one could be sure they would not turn east and head for Luzon instead. All forces on the island were alerted and instructed to follow blackout rules. One flight from each pursuit squadron was to stand by for immediate takeoff at all times of the day and night. In accordance with subsequent orders, Wagner instructed that all aircraft be camouflaged after they had been combat-loaded and then made ready for action. The planes were to be dispersed around the short, narrow field at night so they would not be in a straight line in the event of an attack.
   Over at Clark Field, the 3d and 20th Pursuit Squadrons were also hurriedly carrying out the orders. Maverick had his men apply camouflage paint to their P-35As in the afternoon, then combat load the two .30-caliber and two .50-caliber machine guns in each of the 3d Pursuit's twenty-two P-35As. Bomb racks also were installed. That evening, the ships were dispersed around the edges of the field, none in a straight line, and readied to take off within one and a half minutes of the order being issued.

   The chapters, divided into chunks such as "Tainan Naval Air Base, Formosa, 9:40 AM, December 8, 1941" and "Over Clark Field, 12:50 PM, December 8, 1941," switch rapidly from place to place in a straight progression, moving from the torpid pre-war pace of military life in the Philippines toward Japan's opening air strikes. Utilizing an enormous amount of primary material from letters, diaries, and interviews (the author began researching the book years ago when many of the veterans were still alive), Bartsch unfolds the story through the eyes (and often the words) of his characters. Here's how he describes some of the shortages facing the Far East Air Force at the beginning of 1941.

   Major Kirtley Gregg was grappling with supply problems he had inherited following his appointment as G4 by General Brereton several days earlier. They were bigger than any he had faced earlier as the 4th Composite Group commander. First, the need to overhaul the engines of the greatly expanded number of aircraft was beyond the Philippine Air Depot's capacity Overhaul requirements had escalated from two to one hundred engines a month. In consideration of the depots limited overhaul facilities and lack of skilled personnel, Gregg, through his chief Brereton, had recommended in a memo to General Arnold in Washington that all aircraft engines requiring overhaul be shipped back stateside for such work until the depot was able to handle the task. He further suggested that Arnold arrange to ship to the Philippines engines to replace those being sent back to the states so as to ensure that no aircraft would be immobilized due to the unavailability of serviceable engines.
   Of more immediate concern was the shortage of .50-caliber ammunition. It was so acute that the pursuit pilots had not been able to fire their fifties in gunnery practice. The six wing guns in the new P-40Es turned over to the 3d and 17th Pursuit Squadrons had been boresighted, but they had yet to be test fired. Nor had the twin nose fifties in the P-40Bs. There were only 3.75 million rounds on hand in the Philippines for all USAFFE needs, as against an FEAF requirement alone of 6 million rounds. Some 21.8 million rounds, intended to meet the total estimated needs of U.S. forces in the islands by December 20, would not be shipped from the United States before March 1, 1942, according to the A4 at AAF headquarters in Washington.
   The problem facing the 19th Bomb Group was bombs. Although an adequate supply of 500-pound demolition bombs had been received recently, there still was a shortage of 300-, 1,000-, and 2,000-pound bombs—which the War Department promised to send no later than March 10, 1942.The FEAF also needed more 100-pound bombs; twenty thousand of those were scheduled for shipment between December 5 and 10.
   There was concern at FEAF headquarters that MacArthur's B-17s did not have an adequate supply of incendiary bombs on hand should the Japanese home islands become an eventual target. Gregg had just received a War Department cable via MacArthur and Brereton indicating how "improved alterations" could be made to the FEAFs stock of eight hundred thirty-pound white phosphorous incendiary bombs. This was just a stopgap measure, however. The first available fifty thousand newly designed four-pound incendiary bombs were to be shipped to the Philippines "as soon as manufactured, but not later than January 1."
   Unknown to Gregg, there was also a problem with the bombing capabilities of the A-24 dive-bombers expected for the 27th Group in a few weeks' time. Army Air Forces headquarters had discovered that the aircraft had inadvertently been shipped to the Philippines without the trunnion bands required for carrying five-hundred- and one-thousand-pound bombs, and the suspension bands needed for one hundred pounders, including gas-filled incendiaries. The required bands would not be available to the FEAF until February.

   This sort of character by character, day by day, event by event narrative builds relentlessly to a crescendo when the Japanese bombers and their escorting fighters arrive over the unprepared American airfields many hours after the Combined Fleet had already shattered the calm Sunday morning at Pearl Harbor and hours after the American commanders in the Philippines had been warned of the Japanese attacks. The last chapters of the book are a kaleidoscopic blast of bombs and air-to-air combat as seen from cockpits, anti-aircraft positions, and slit trenches.
   Bartsch handles the strategic background, the pre-war buildup, and the climactic air battles with equal dexterity. As he demonstrated with Doomed at the Start, the author has a flair for bringing to life the men—in this case, Japanese as well as Americans—who fought the battle over sixty years ago, and showing them as fully-rounded human beings rather than mere cardboard counters on a two-dimensional map. However, Bartsch does not forget the big issues.
   Throughout the chapters, the narrative describes key scenes (such as General Lewis Brereton's visits to General Douglas MacArthur's office prior to the arrival of the Japanese bombers) without commenting on the larger issues and post-war controversies. These matters Bartsch reserves for his pugilistic Epilogue.
   Most importantly, the Epilogue tries to answer the question "Who was responsible for the disaster?" After all, with Washington having sent advance warning and with the Japanese attack delayed by heavy fog on Formosa, it seems like the Far East Air Force should have been able to avoid the worst of the attack by dispersing its bombers (or sending them on their own strike), preparing ground defenses, and putting interceptors into the air. Admiral Kimmel and General Short were sacked because of the surprise attack at Pearl Harbor, but no one was officially reprimanded for the far more avoidable air catastrophe in the Philippines. Blame for destruction on the ground of the B-17s and many of the fighters has over the years been assigned to various figures by various historians.
   According to the best archival evidence, Brereton twice tried to speak with MacArthur early on the morning of 8 December about launching an attack with his B-17s against the crowded airfields in Formosa, only to be refused by the general's chief of staff, Richard Sutherland. According to one post-war explanation, MacArthur was in conference at that time with Admiral Hart. Bartsch writes that Hart was not in fact in MacArthur's office. So why would MacArthur fail to confer with his air chief and issue appropriate orders? Richard Connaughton in MacArthur and Defeat in the Philippines suggests that MacArthur might have suffered an "overload" that left him incapable of reacting to events. Others lay the blame at Brereton's feet and even suggest MacArthur refused to see the airman in his office on that December morning because Brereton was still inebriated from a party at the Manila Hotel. Brereton has taken the heat from a variety of sources, although in his own memoir he maintained that it was MacArthur and Sutherland who prevented the Far East Air Force from taking any action until it was too late.
   In 1946 Brereton's book provoked a savage public response from MacArthur. In an eleven-point statement published in the New York Times, MacArthur blamed Brereton for the disaster. At that time, MacArthur's reputation made him untouchable, but Bartsch provides a lengthy and detailed rebuttal of all eleven points, showing that MacArthur mis-stated the facts at every turn. In Bartsch's eyes, MacArthur is unambiguously at fault for his handling of Brereton, the Far East Air Force, and the defense of the Philippines on the morning of 8 December 1941. The author goes on to review the culpability of Brereton, Sutherland, and other commanders at various levels, some of whom receive very poor grades. This proves to be one of the strongest parts of a very strong book.
   Looking beyond the Philippines and the commanders on the scene, Bartsch also holds the War Department accountable for some bad decisions. He notes that Brereton was absolutely correct when, on the eve of his departure to the Far East, he insisted the forces in the Philippines were not being built up in a balanced manner. In particular, insufficient attention was paid to preparing bases, ground defenses, and infrastructure to support the air squadrons prior to their arrival. The vaunted B-17s, he was sure, would be extremely vulnerable until the construction and overall buildup was completed in April 1942. Also, despite some earlier suggestions, no efforts had been made to put in place an integrated air defense system with functioning radar, qualified personnel, suitable communications, and proper doctrine and procedures. "Brereton urged the need for providing air warning services and fighters before sending bombers to a location so vulnerable to surprise attack as the Philippines." To George Marshall and Hap Arnold, however, the immediate transfer of B-17s to Luzon was a "calculated risk" they were willing to take.
   How important was this resounding Japanese victory when the War Department lost its gamble on the first day of war in the Philippines? "The loss of five battleships (but no aircraft carriers) at Pearl Harbor had little impact on the course of the Pacific War and cannot be equated with the near-destruction of the largest force of warplanes outside the United States—on which hung the fate of Washington's deterrent strategy against Japan, or, failing that, of effective opposition to Japanese operations against the Philippines."
   December 8, 1941: MacArthur's Pearl Harbor is definitely one of the best books about World War II published this year. Bartsch has done an outstanding job of tying together so many threads of personal stories in a manner thoughtful, informative, and highly entertaining. (In that regard, this book very much resembles another stellar title from a few years ago: Facing Fearful Odds by Greg Urwin.) Even the endnotes are readable and packed with further information, so much so that it's almost a shame they're tucked away at the back of the book instead of the bottom of each page. It would have been nice to add a couple of maps to the mix, and unfortunately the stories of some of the more notable characters never really reach any conclusion. For example, Major Kirtley Gregg (and his bad teeth) figure prominently throughout much of the book, but he fades from sight well before the end. Only those who read the dedication will know Gregg died on 21 April 1942. (Perhaps Bartsch offers no denouement about personnel after 8 December because he has already provided some of that material in Doomed at the Start.) Quibbles such as those aside, this book deserves the highest recommendation. Let's hope that Bartsch's relatively small academic publisher, Texas A&M Press, has sufficient clout to get this book into shops all over the country and all over the world, because it certainly deserves a wide audience.
   Available from online booksellers, local bookshops, or directly from Texas A&M Press.
   Thanks to TAMU Press for providing this review copy.