ISBN 0-7006-1383-8
xi + 335 pages

Acknowledgments; Introduction; photos; Epilogue; Endnotes; Bibliography; Index

Appendices: Tables of Principal Military Research Institutions, Organizational Hierarchy for Science and Technology Policy, Principal Researchers of the F-go Project, Japanese Radar Nomenclature, etc

   If ray guns could have been the decisive weapon of World War II, Japan might have emerged victorious, because—as this book about science and technology during the war demonstrates—Japanese scientists devoted considerable effort to developing "death rays." Of course—as this book also proves—despite such misguided research there was no way those devices could have been feasible in the 1940s.
   Slightly off the beaten track, but explicating an important aspect of the conflict, Walter Grunden's Secret Weapons and World War II examines Japanese science and technology in the Second World War, including chimerical death ray projectors, but—no matter how interesting—they comprise only a small part of the high-tech weapons projects in the book. Overall, Grunden looks at four main categories of scientific research and development in four chapters:

• Nuclear energy and the atomic bomb
• Electric weapons: Radar and the "death ray"
• Aeronautical weapons: Rockets, guided missiles, and jet aircraft
• Chemical and biological warfare

   To begin with, an introductory chapter sets the basic pattern for the book. Grunden reviews the structure and organization of government-supported scientific research in other WWII belligerents, notably the US, UK, Soviet Union, and Germany. After establishing how those nations organized their scientists and research facilities, the chapter turns to the development of Japanese governmental policy in regard to science. This produces a bit of a mishmash of commissions, bureaus, committees, agencies departments, and institutes and will probably prove to be the least interesting part of the book for most readers. Nonetheless, Grunden fully demonstrates the fragmented nature of Japanese policies, the relative lack of governmental support, the "bottom up" (as opposed to "top down") structure of science in Japan, and the utter lack of cooperation between Army and Navy.
   The second chapter covers nuclear energy and the atomic bomb and follows the same pattern as the introductory chapter. First the author sketches how atomic research and development proceeded in the other major belligerents, then he turns to the story in Japan. As already established in the opening chapter, work in Japan was split between Army and Navy with almost no collaboration. Lack of cooperation made the task no easier when the nation was handicapped by lack of sources of uranium ore and insufficient industrial/technical/scientific capacity. Grunden notes that the American Manhattan Project required $2,000,000,000 in funding while Japan devoted only the equivalent of approximately $650,000 to $11,200,000 to the combined Army and Navy programs.
   The author's scientific knowledge becomes apparent as he pursues the story of who was involved and what decisions they made in their research and development, such as the method chosen for separating heavy water. Neither the F-go (Navy) nor NI-go (Army) project ultimately made much headway, and by the end of the war Japan remained far from possessing the ability to successfully build a nuclear reactor or an atomic weapon. In this regard Grunden is careful to quash the speculation of "conspiracy theorists [who] attempt to exploit such tidbits of information as evidence that Japan built and tested an atomic bomb in Hungnam, Korea, in the closing days of the war." In particular, the book specifically refutes the sensationalist theories of Robert Wilcox (Japan's Secret War) and Philip Henshall (Nuclear Axis).
   Here's part of Gruden's sober and realistic conclusion regarding the Japanese atomic program:

   The Atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945 came as a great shock to the Japanese scientists involved in nuclear weapons research. Few of them had believed it possible for any nation to develop nuclear weapons during the war, even the United States. But the United States had several advantages that Japan did not share in common. The United States had access to plentiful supplies of uranium-bearing ores and graphite, and it possessed an expansive industrial infrastructure to process them in massive quantities. As shown above, Japan had neither sufficient resources nor the industrial capacity to succeed in such an endeavor. The lack of coordination in research efforts between the military services was also a critical factor. In the United States, it took the formation of special agencies at the highest levels of government, namely the NDRC and the OSRD, before the Manhattan Project could be established. Under the auspices of these agencies, General Leslie Groves managed research at numerous sites, including Los Alamos, New Mexico; Oak Ridge, Tennessee; and Hanford, Washington. Groves enlisted the aid of such industrial giants as Du Pont and Union Carbide to overcome the many engineering problems involved. Although various aspects of the Manhattan Project were compartmentalized for security, Groves worked closely with the project's civilian director, J. Robert Oppenheimer, to coordinate the disparate elements of the program.
   Japan, by contrast, had no such administrative structure. Nuclear research was almost entirely a military affair of the army and navy, each with its own independent projects. The Technology Agency, one of the government's many civilian offices responsible for coordinating scientific research, was only marginally involved as an oversight agency and provided modest funding late in the war. Otherwise, there was no central office created to coordinate all the disparate aspects of such a complex enterprise comparable to the roles of the OSRD and the Manhattan Engineering District in the United States. The overall picture of Japan's mobilization for nuclear weapons development is one of a bottom-up approach, in contrast to the United States' top-down model, and in this regard is more comparable to the German effort. Scientists in the United States had taken their case to the highest level of government, the president himself, who used his executive powers to establish the appropriate offices and to allocate the necessary funding and resources. In Japan, however, beyond the desperate demands of the top brass for a decisive new weapon, it was the technical officers in the military, like Ito and Yasuda, who initiated the projects and sought the assistance of civilian scientists when their own technicians in uniform proved incapable for the task at hand.
   Moreover, interservice rivalry between the army and navy prevented collaboration until late in the war. There was no single military leader in charge of the nation's nuclear weapons research effort, as with Groves in the U.S. Manhattan Project. Groves was given an unprecedented degree of responsibility and control over military aspects of the Manhattan Project, and Oppenheimer proved to be a very capable civilian manager. There were no such analogs in Japan. Although navy Captain Mitsui Matao was put in charge of planning for the combined army-navy venture late in the war, he shared responsibility with several other officers, and he was never given authority comparable to that of Groves. Even the authority of Captain Ito Yoji and Lieutenant General Yasuda Takeo combined did not approach that enjoyed by Groves. Nor was there an analog to Oppenheimer. Nishina Yoshio had served as chair for both the army and navy feasibility studies, and he headed the army's NI-go project, but he was never put in charge of a well-coordinated, combined national effort as was Oppenheimer.
   ...
   Even if sufficient amounts of uranium had been available, it is questionable whether a Manhattan Project-style effort could have been assembled in Japan, given the absence of any government Agency to help coordinate all the disparate elements. Given the comparatively low levels of technology and industrial support capacity at the time, it is also doubtful anything less than a national, concentrated effort combining nearly all the available human resources of the imperial universities and industry could have succeeded. Where nuclear weapons development was concerned, the three strikes of resource deficiency, limited industrial capacity, and poor mobilization of science infrastructure and personnel were more than enough to ensure that Japan would not succeed in such a complex technical endeavor during the war.

   The next chapter looks at radar and "death ray" research. As to the former, Grunden reminds readers that the Japanese scientific community was very much in the forefront of basic research and development of many aspects of radar in the pre-war years. Although not quite up to the level of the British Chain Home radar line, Japan took a fairly similar approach to utilizing the technology for military purposes. "A [radar] system for aircraft detection and warning later became operational in 1941. Some 120 sets of this type were erected along the coast on the Sea of Japan for defense against a potential air assault from the Soviet Union." However, Chapter Three goes on to point out that, comparatively, Japan's level of achievement in radar research, development, and production scarcely advanced during the war, and Grunden provides solid reasons for the Japanese failure in that arena. One of the reasons for failure was the diversion caused by the misguided attempt to develop a death ray.
   Going back as far as 1930, prompted by a newspaper article claiming Germany had invented such a device during World War I, the Japanese Army officially initiated research on a microwave weapon that could "...stop an internal combustion engine by means of the resonance effect or that could injure humans from a distance." Overtones of science fiction notwithstanding, the IJA was simply ahead of its time, if reports concerning deployment of Active Denial System microwave weapons in Iraq during 2004-2005 can be believed. By 1940 Japanese researchers were experimenting on live animals with prototype beams. In October 1941 the death ray research was discontinued and personnel shifted to other fields, including radar work. However, in 1943 the Army project reopened and in early 1945—in spite of the fact that the experimental system was capable only of killing rabbits after exposure of thirty to sixty seconds and only within a range of three meters—the Army ordered production of a more powerful version of the equipment as a functioning weapon. The Navy, of course, conducted its own death ray program but with no more success than its rival.

   Postwar U.S. military intelligence assessments of Japanese research and development of the death ray were mixed. Some investigators who examined the army's research data at the end of the war appeared not to have been very impressed with the project, stating, "While the results of the tests are interesting, there is nothing in them to indicate that Death Rays are likely to become an effective military weapon." Yet others stated, "With the development of higher-power and shorter-wave length oscillators, which has become possible through the Allied research on radar, it is possible that a death ray might be developed that could kill unshielded human beings at a distance of five to ten miles if these Japanese experiments are reliable indications of the potentialities of the death ray." One stated reason for the failure of the Japanese army program to develop a high-frequency electric wave weapon was that the Army Ministry and the army research staff did not give a "wholehearted effort" to this project. One impediment cited in U.S. postwar intelligence reports was the "improper dissemination of information by the army staff." Although competent civilian scientists had been brought into the project as consultants, they worked in "scattered localities" and were not kept informed of the development of the research. Moreover, Japanese informants stated that "a definite goal was not given to each scientist, and in some instances, the scientists did not know that the research was to develop a 'death ray' weapon." Such observations appear not to have considered the fact that none of the other belligerents had succeeded in developing such a weapon either, or even whether any of the major powers could have done so during the war.

   While the Japanese were apparently the only belligerent to seriously pursue death rays, the same could not be said for development of rockets, guided missiles, and jet aircraft—the topics that comprise Chapter Four. In these fields, Japan began the war behind the other major powers and fell farther behind as the conflict progressed. Nevertheless, Grunden identifies quite a few interesting projects and charts their development: the I-go air-to-surface missile, Ke-go heat-homing air-to-surface missile, Funryu surface-to-air missile, Ohka rocket-plane, Baika and Shinryu "special attack" piloted missiles, Shusui rocket-propelled interceptor, and the Kikka and Karyu twin jet-engine fighters. Despite investments of brainpower and other resources, and despite transfer of technology from Germany, Japan simply failed to keep up with the pace of international technological advances in this arena.
   Grunden next turns his attention to a grimmer subject, and one the Japanese attempted to downplay and conceal at the end of the war: chemical and biological weapons. While it's true that the major belligerents developed and stockpiled those kinds of weapons, the threat of retaliation by the enemy was generally sufficient to prevent use for military purposes. (See, for example, the story of US stockpiling in Europe that led to the accidental poison gas incident in Italy in 1943.) On the other hand, Japanese Army officers at the highest level seem to have approved and encouraged use of bacteriological weapons in China. Grunden focuses much of the chapter on the notorious Unit 731 at Pingfang run by Ishii Shiro. "By 1939, there were approximately 5,000 people engaged in various aspects of BW research under Ishii's command, with the majority stationed at Pingfang...." Not only did Unit 731 conduct experiments on humans, but Grunden reports multiple occasions in which BW operations were conducted.
   In that regard, however, the book for once proves sketchy on details and not entirely in line with other reliable accounts. Here's what Grunden has to say about Ishii and Unit 731 at Nomonhon/Khalkin-Gol, including the relevant endnote:

   With Japanese troops facing certain defeat, a small detachment from Unit 731 attempted to halt the advance of the enemy by contaminating the Khalkin-Gol River with typhus, paratyphus, and cholera while the remaining Japanese forces retreated. The effort met with only minimal success, but it was encouraging enough for Ishii to continue with his research agenda.¹⁰⁶ His superiors agreed, and by December 1940, Unit 731 was further expanded with the formation of additional subunits in Hailar, Songo, Linkou, and Hailin (Mudanchiang). Throughout the war, Unit 731 and its affiliated branches conducted small-scale BW operations on at least six different occasions in China, in one instance resulting in a limited outbreak of cholera and bubonic plague in Changteh in the autumn of 1942.

106. Ironically, Japanese wartime propaganda accused the Soviets of conducting RW as early as 1935, and Japanese army officers used this as a pretext to justify RW research to U.S. intelligence officers after the war. See Military Intelligence Service, Intelligence Research Project No. 2263, "Japanese Biological Warfare," 26 July 1945, U.S. National Archives, College Park, MD, KG 226, Folder No. 3, Section 4, 3-6. See also Thompson, "Report on Japanese Biological Warfare," 3-4. Testimony of Nishi Toshihide, Materials on the Trial of Former Servicemen, 288.

   Alvin Coox in his earlier Nomonhon seemed to interpret the facts somewhat differently. Here's an excerpt with an accompanying endnote:

   After the Pacific War, several Japanese leftist writers retailed tales that at Nomonhan the Ishii unit was really engaged in spreading cholera, typhus, and plague from the upper reaches of the Halha, and that over 30 Japanese medical and civilian personnel were killed in the process. In December 1939, Ishii himself explained privately to the new Kwantung Army chief of staff, Endo, that the central authorities had directed him to undertake bacteriological warfare operations but that he had declined to do so because study of countermeasures had not been completed by that time. Endo, who agreed with Ishii, admits that it was theoretically possible to have hampered enemy pursuit at the end of the Nomonhan fighting by infecting the Halha; but Endo never heard that the Japanese actually employed bacteriological measures in 1939. In short, though the Japanese army, like the Red Army, certainly had developed a serious interest in bacteriological warfare, no responsible IJA source accepts or authenticates the allegations that the Kwantung Army tried to poison the precious river water upon which its own forces were as dependent as the Russians and Mongolians must have been.³⁸

38. Examples of pseudonymous leftist sources are Akiyama, Tokushu [154], p. 59; Nezu, [430], p. 198; Nara Hiroshi and Kitagami Norio (alleged physicians), "Shiroi kyoto no naka no jintai jikken no jittai" [Facts Concerning the Experiments on Humans Conducted Inside the Great White Tower], Fujin Koron, March 1971, pp. 184-91; and same authors, "Kantogun tokushu himitsu 731 butai ni yoru hijindoteki hanzai" [The Inhumane Crimes Committed by the Kwantung Army's Special Secret Unit 731], Nitchu, Dec. 1972, pp. 23-27. Also see Shimamura Takashi, Sanzennin no seitai jikken: Kantogun nazo no saikin himitsu heiki kenkyusho [Live Experimentation on 3,000 Human Beings: The Kwantung Army's Mysterious Secret Germ Warfare Research Institute] (Tokyo: Hara Shobo, 1967). I explored the practical range of biological warfare (BW) possibilities in interviews with Drs. Kinbara and Niiya, and with Imaoka and I. Hata. Soviet juridical interest in Japanese BW activities focuses on the period after the Nomonhan hostilities, as can be seen from the transcripts of the postwar Khabarovsk trial of Kwantung Army personnel. But one IJA defendant, Lt. Col. Nishi Toshihide, who only arrived in Manchuria in 1943, testified that Unit 731 had used typhoid, paratyphoid, and dysentery germs to contaminate the Halha River in the area of military operations in 1939. USSR [989], p. 63. Ishii's own comments will be found in Endo's secret diary entry for 10 Dec. 1939, when the two officers conversed at Harbin and visited Ishii's "Kamo unit"; [189], pp. 162-63.

   Whatever the precise nature of events at Nomonhon, contemporary researchers are in complete agreement that Unit 731 committed a variety of atrocities during the war years, and Grunden goes on to describe some of the more heinous examples of Ishii's work, including experiments conducted on human subjects. Japan even developed plans to use "balloon bombs" to carry BW payloads across the Pacific to attack the United States. Although touching on all those points, as always the text remains focused on the science, institutions, and personnel of Japanese biological warfare development. Interestingly, Grunden concludes that based on available evidence "...it is questionable whether the emperor would have remained in complete ignorance of [the work at Unit 731]." Furthermore, the author explains how Ishii and many of his scientists and technicians were able to avoid prosecution by the US for war crimes because they were able to gain immunity in exchange for "...extensive data on human experimentation produced by the Unit 731 researchers."
   The first two paragraphs of Grunden's Epilogue neatly sum up the impact of Japanese science on the course of the war:

   The preceding discussion would begin to suggest that the impact of science on the war for Japan was minimal, at least in the areas of the advanced weapons projects examined above. Japan lacked the natural and human resources as well as the industrial capacity to produce nuclear weapons. Radar development remained at a comparatively low level, and although radar proved somewhat useful for Japan during the war, Allied progress in this field far outpaced the Japanese, especially after the British invention of the resonant cavity magnetron. A "death ray" was a pipe dream for all the belligerents, and although other nations ruled out its development early in the war, the Japanese continued to pursue this very impractical technology throughout. In the latter stages of the war, Japan was developing some innovative guided missiles and jet aircraft, but most of these remained beyond the nation's capacity to mass produce, while others were derivative of German designs and barely reached the production stage by the end of the war. The Japanese army used chemical weapons on a limited scale in China but did not use them more widely against Allied forces in the Pacific. Likewise, the Kwantung Army used biological weapons throughout China, mostly in the northeast, but they also do not appear to have been used against the Allies in the Pacific theater. For the most part, Japan fought the war with the same weapons that it had had at the outset, and no new, decisive technology was produced to change the tide of war in Japan's favor. Ironically, throughout much of the war, it was indeed the indomitable fighting spirit of the common soldier that proved to be Japan's most formidable weapon.
   Japan's failure to develop such advanced weapons as discussed above can largely be attributed to the failure of wartime science policy. Science and technology mobilization policy in WW II Japan was ineffective, which resulted in the failure of advanced weapons R&D programs and prevented Japan from experiencing a Big Science revolution at this critical time. Beyond the problems of resource deficiencies and insufficient industrial capacity, advanced weapons projects were plagued by organizational difficulties at every level. Because of sectionalism in the government and conflict with the military, the Technology Agency was stripped of its power and proved incapable of uniting or coordinating the scientific resources among the government, military, industrial, and academic sectors. The army and navy refused to cooperate with one another on any significant scale until late in the war. University scientists remained grossly underutilized, and the military tended to rely on them only when their own technical officers proved incapable of doing the work. Research was commonly impeded by a rigid and often unnecessary policy of compartmentalization. Moreover, many civilian scientists were ambivalent toward conducting research for the military. Under these circumstances, science had not much opportunity to make a significant impact on the war for Japan.

   This is not the book for historical researchers seeking details of weapon deployments or tactical combat. Instead, Secret Weapons looks behind the curtain to see how the Japanese political, military, and—especially—technical establishments handled research and development projects for wartime purposes, with an emphasis on scientific mobilization and organization. Unlike some of the sensationalized books about Japanese secret weapons, Walter Grunden provides a very scholarly, heavily footnoted, factual examination of the subject without resorting to speculation and hysteria. While the author focuses on Japan, along the way he also creates a useful outline of scientific advancements in weaponry by the other major powers during the war. An appendix of about thirty-five pages includes a plethora of tables covering Japanese scientific institutions, projects, personnel, and weapons.
   All in all, Grunden offers a valuable contribution to an important aspect of Japan's war, and the book repeatedly reminds readers that war-winning weapons don't just magically appear in the hands of fighting men—nations must possess properly mobilized and organized scientific establishments in order to remain capable of conducting modern warfare. And without proper organization and oversight, precious resources might be squandered on impractical projects like ray guns.
   Recommended.
   Available from online booksellers, local bookshops, or directly from University Press of Kansas.
   Thanks to UPK for providing this review copy.