Duty: A Father His Son & the Man Who Won the War

Dates Covered: 1945 - 1999
ISBN: 0380978490
HH Rating:

Our Take

Many folks believe that the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the end of World War II was the worst possible option, the stuff of nightmares. When columnist and writer Bob Greene chanced to encounter Brigadier General Paul Tibbets, the man who piloted the Enola Gay on the Hiroshima mission, he wasted no time in asking the general if there was some residual guilt from killing all those people. Tibbets responded: "I sleep just fine." Greene was sufficiently impressed to write an entire book around this and other conversations with Tibbets. Interestingly, Tibbets maintained this demeanor even when meeting a Japanese national later on in the work. Tibbets even admits having the man who led the Pearl Harbor attack, Mitsuo Fuchida, over for dinner once. (We wonder what they talked about.)

In Duty: A Father, His Son, and the Man Who Won the War, Greene examines the sort of life attitude that Tibbets and other World War II vets share. This book is not quite a historical treatise; rather, it might well be placed under that deplorable umbrella of books called "personal journeys".

This is too bad, because it's rather good. The book begins with Greene spending an inordinate amount of time in his hometown (Akron, Ohio), watching his father slowly die. Paul Tibbets also lives in Akron, and the men began a series of conversations that covered historical and cultural ground. For youthful ears like ours, it was somewhat useful to hear Tibbets not only reiterate the usual what's-up-with-these-kids-nowadays complaints but actually give a little rationale beyond mere cantankerousness or jealousy on having missed out the sexual revolution. At one point he says,

I cannot communicate with people who are less than sixty years old. It's as though all of us in this country know the same words, but we don't use the words the same way. We speak different languages.

When Greene asks Tibbets if had he been in a position to ignore the order to carry out a mission of such horrible destructive power, Tibbets replies

It's usually younger people who say that to me. Because in those days -- during World War II -- you didn't tell your superiors that you didn't want to do something.

It's clear that Tibbets still hold reverential fervor for these ideas, and so does Greene, to the point of not acknowledging what trouble they might cause (for example, the university tenure system, which sucks for pretty much everybody except those tenured). But, hey, we're open-minded, and see the merit of this viewpoint. What's more interesting is the argument that the Hiroshima bombing saved the lives of countless American and Japanese soldiers who were gearing up for a Pacific land invasion.

Certainly, this argument is nothing new. But Greene manages to put a human face on it through discussions with Tibbets, and other old folks who might well have fallen in the invasion but instead came back and begat the boomer generation. Indeed, one World War II vet we here at History House talked to (not to namedrop, but it was William Styron) recounted tales of wild jubilation after word got out that the invasion was called off, including stories of men firing great howitzers in exhilaration and accidentally killing fellow troops. To expect thousands and thousands of men in their 20s rescued from certain death to behave rationally is to presume too far, but the sense of pervading joy following the end of the war is clear in Tibbets' discussions. Greene is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune, and after publishing a few bits of conversation with Tibbets, got plenty of responses from vets recounting similar tales and sentiments, which before long start to smell like old Ann Landers columns. By contrast, Tibbets' own language can be fiery:

... when you drop something that weighs almost 10,000 pounds out of your airplane in an instant, you know there's going to be an effect of the plane bucking up when the plane gets that much lighter all of a sudden ... the seat slapped me in the ass.

When Greene expresses dismay that Tibbets smoked the whole flight carrying the bomb over ("That didn't make you a little nervous?"), Tibbets soberly replies, "A cigarette lighter's not going to set off the atomic bomb." He also comments that, "Patton had an effeminate-type voice. Very squeaky."

It is these sorts of details that make the first half of the book a rollicking read. Greene starts to abandon the historical anecdotes as he explores more fully his relationship with his father, and, by extension, the relationship of baby boomers and younger folks to the WWII vets.

Towards the end of the book, Greene goes on a little grumpy-old-men-style roadtrip, wherein he meets two more crewmembers of the Enola Gay, who pretty much have the same opinions about things as Tibbets does. Greene conveys a certain sense of fresh, kidding fun that these old guys share, and their dignity in the small ceremonies they're invited to. Over and over, Greene himself is bewildered by the lack of attention these old men receive, the ones who he credits with ending the war, yet they themselves seem unconcerned with their lack of fame. In their own individual voices, they indicate that they desire neither fame nor fortune for doing their duty. Greene himself thinks they should be resting on laurels for the rest of their lives, and he's right. Unfortunately, he seems to be thinking that because the time when doing right was its own reward seems achingly distant. He's probably right about that, too.

Read More at Amazon.com

Discuss this book in our forums