Chart VII (Source: Chart prepared for Colonel John Stanley in Propaganda Branch, G-2.)

With the termination of hostilities, though it was not the juridical finish of the war, both OSS and OWI were swept out of existence. By executive order of 20 September 1945, effective ten days later, OSS was broken up; the scholastic portions were dismembered and reassembled into the Department of State, where they presumably helped collate material for the new interdepartmental Central Intelligence Group (CIG). The operational parts were handed over to the War Department. For all the author knows, some distressed colonel may have a desk full of fountain-pens which explode, transmit radio messages, or can be used for invisible tattooing, along with an edible blotter, a desk telephone which is really a hand grenade and a typewriter which is a demountable motor scooter; such speculations are delightful topics on which to dwell, but the day of black propaganda is over. Obsolescence reduces all things, even OSS, to absurdity.

The OWI perished a more lingering administrative death. It was transferred to the Department of State as an operating unit under the name Interim International Information Service (IIIS) and a new Assistant Secretary of State, Mr. William Benton, took over its sponsorship. Later, under the abbreviation OIC (Office of International Information and Cultural Affairs), it was coordinated on January 1, 1946, with preexisting State department offices and with certain leftovers from the Office of Inter-American Affairs (OIAA). It retained the global broadcasts on a limited budget; it still served the surviving outposts, which were being integrated with diplomatic and consular offices overseas; and for Korea, Japan, Germany, Austria, and Venezia Giulia, it acted as the supplying service for the Military Government information programs in those areas. The Bureau of the Budget took over limited domestic functions when the OWI passed out of independent existence on 31 August 1945.

Chart VIII (Source: Chart prepared before VJ-day in Propaganda Branch, G-2.)

The only aspect of psychological warfare that does not show on the chart is the Japanese political warfare system—by the test of success, the best developed by any belligerent during World War II. The Japanese very early learned the simple rule: Political warfare cannot convert a sub-subsistence economy and government into a satisfactory system, but political warfare can convert a subsisting area into one that has the illusions of prosperity and national freedom. To succeed in the face of economic difficulty, political warfare must be shrewd, simple, insistent, and backed up with a touch of terror. The Japanese moved into the Western colonial areas of the Far East between 1940 and 1942 (Indo-China, Malaya, Indonesia, the Philippines, parts of China, Burma, and areas inhabited by substantial Indian minorities). They organized the following "independent" governments:

• The Imperial Government of Manchukuo;
• Federated Autonomous Inner Mongolia;
• The Reorganized National Government of China, superseding earlier puppets;
• Malai (under Japanese military control but promised ultimate independence);
• The Republic of the Philippines;
• The Empire of Vietnam (later the Vietnam Republic);
• A dictatorship in Burma of the Adipadi;
• Republic Indonesia;
• Azad Hind (Free Indian government-in-exile) and the Azad Hind Fauj (quisling Indian National Army, which put large forces into the field against British-controlled Indian troops and helped to neutralize the entire military potential of India);
• The independent Kingdom of Cambodia (made independent by telling the helpless King that he need not let the French come back).

These Japanese-sponsored governments flew their own flags, had enough troops to help Japan police their home areas, developed psychological warfare facilities with intensive Japanese assistance, and went through all the motions of independence. In 1944, some of them even held an international conference at Tokyo, thanking Japan for liberating all the non-White States and adopting high-sounding resolutions. (The Siamese puppet ambassador to this meeting had the unforgettable name of His Excellency, the Honorable Witchit Witchit Watakan!)

Behind the pageantries of Japanese political warfare, economic and social realities were horrid. The Japanese printed money which had far less backing than cigar store coupons. They bankrupted all non-Japanese business so that Japanese carpetbaggers could buy their way in cheap; businesses owned by white foreigners were expropriated out of hand. They cut off communications, spread terror, raised the price of food, put hospitals out of business, degraded schools—and received the devoted loyalty of large parts of the cheated populations. It did not matter to millions of Burmese whether they had lived well under British rule or not; the British did not let them have their own flag, did not let them send ministers and ambassadors, did not let them run a scow up and down the river with a mortar on it, calling it a navy. The miranda, the pageantry of politics, was what mattered—not law-and-order, democracy, security, education, health.38

The same story might have been repeated on a larger scale throughout the Far East, perhaps ultimately leading to something like Lothrop Stoddard's old nightmare, The Rising Tide of Color. Countervening factors included the presence of Chinese agitation both Kuomintang and Communist in leadership, guerrilla operations throughout Southeast Asia, and the ruinous economic effects of American submarine and Fourteenth Air Force anti-shipping operations. Shipping losses drove the Greater East Asia Co-prosperity Sphere below subsistence level and created a condition where even the most fanatic patriot realized the disadvantages of the situation.

The Japanese put all the captured radios to work. They had traitors of all kinds on their side—including, it is shameful to admit, Americans, Russians, British, Australians, and French. (Despite the fact they occupied all of Guam, they never used a single Guamanian traitor—testimony to the simple loyalty to the U.S. of the Chamorro people and to the popularity of the long-established U.S. naval government on the island.)

Japanese psychological warfare failed because the real warfare behind it failed. The Japanese could not whip their over-docile troops into a fighting frenzy without allowing those troops to behave in a way which made deadly enemies for Japan among the peoples she came to "liberate." The Japanese did not have sense enough to be satisfied with 100% return per year on their money, but wrecked the conquered economic systems with inflation, poor management, and excess exploitation. Even the quislings became restless under the poor occupation policies of the Japanese, and before the war was over a considerable number of the Japanese quislings re-quislinged back to the United Nations side.

In contrast, the American psychological warfare structure included Theater operating units, usually called PWB (Psychological Warfare Branch), although it became PWD (Psychological Warfare Division) in SHAEF and did not grow beyond TPWO (Theater Psychological Warfare Officer) in China Theater. The supreme authority was, of course, the Theater Commander, on whose responsibility the operation had to be carried out. When propaganda bungled and got into the field of political trouble, it was the Theater Commander and not the subordinates who took the blame. Every theater was under the command of a general, except for Central Pacific (under Admiral Nimitz, and he used an Army colonel as his propaganda chief). In most theaters, the Political Adviser was the buffer between psychological warfare and the commander himself; in Southwest Pacific and later the Headquarters of the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, Japan, General MacArthur instituted the office of Military Secretary and made this officer responsible for reporting to him personally the developments in the propaganda field.

Subject to local variation, the Theater agencies faced similar problems. They had to serve in turn as a rear echelon to service the needs of combat propaganda, while working as the actual operating agencies for the bigger radio programs and the preparation of strategic leaflets. As the areas behind them became more consolidated, displays and films took their place beside news and leaflets as chores that had to be performed. Communications facilities were a problem. Purely military facilities could not, of course, be overloaded by the lightly coded transmission of hundreds of thousands of words of political and other news and guidance; the psychological warfare establishments had to jerry-build communications facilities out of what they could borrow from Army, or obtain from OWI supplies in the United States, or buy locally.

In most Theater organizations, the chief was a military man and the staff was partly military and partly civilian. Under General Eisenhower, PWD was not only Army and OWI but included OSS, on the American side, along with British partnership, French participation, and other Allied personnel as well. Under General MacArthur, OWI participated under strict Army control. Under General Stilwell, no Theater organization as such was set up; the G-2, the Political Adviser or the General himself handled propaganda matters when they turned up. Under General Wedemeyer, there was a Theater officer. Under General Sultan, the OWI ran itself; the Outpost serviced the Theater. Under General Clay, Information Control Service, OMGUS, became an integral part of military control. The same thing happened in General MacArthur's reorganized PWB—an organization termed CIES (Civil Information and Education Section) had the organization and personnel not only of the American structure, but the usable purged parts of the Joho Kyoku obedient to its command and liaison. Other Theaters had comparable arrangements, each suited to the Theater.

Figure 50: Consolidation Propaganda: Door Gods. One of the most unusual consolidation propaganda operations was the distribution of "door gods." These were small good-looking posters which traditionally displayed figures from the Chinese Pantheon. During the war, farm families who had been accustomed to putting up new door gods each lunar New Year found that they could not afford them. China Division, OWI, then run by F. M. Fisher, Richard Watts, Jr., Graham Peck, and James Stewart, made up new door gods which showed American aviators, thus familiarizing the Chinese peasantry with our insignia and preaching the cause of inter-Allied cooperation.

Chart IX (Source: History of 2d Mobile Radio Broadcasting Company.)

The common features of all Theater establishments were:

• (1) Liaison or control from Army, State, and OWI, sometimes including OSS.
• (2) Responsibility to the Theater Commander.
• (3) Direct operation of strategic radio.
• (4) Preparation of strategic leaflets, and sometimes of tactical leaflets as well.
• (5) Use of local, native, or allied personnel.

Within the Theater staffs, the psychological warfare facilities were to a great extent assimilated for control and movement of personnel, supply, and so on. The G-3's and G-4's of the Theaters normally serviced the PWB's along with the rest of their work. The OWI and other civilian persons were put into uniform and given simulated rank, sometimes wildly disproportionate to their Army counterparts. The Army G-2's naturally worked with the PWB intelligence facilities; in some Theaters the G-2 was ex officio the chief of psychological warfare, as was the Assistant Chief of Staff G-2, War Department General Staff, himself at home. G-1's usually kept out of the way of psychological warfare and the housekeeping of the units was in most cases autonomous.

Responsibility for financing psychological warfare was never established as doctrine. The State Department kept most of it off its budget, leaving the actual payments up to the War Department and the OWI to figure out. Oftentimes this resulted in a curious sort of neo-capitalism within the U.S.-owned socialism of the Army. The two agencies would hold on to property as though it were private property, on the basis of immediate title, without reference to the plain fact that all of it was paid for in the end by the United States Treasurer. (OWI once murmured threateningly about bringing its radio material home from Manila rather than let General MacArthur's people highjack it. Such talk ended when the material was declared surplus or stolen.)

The tactical leaflet (page 211) came into its own with such units. It was possible to develop high-speed routines for using intelligence swiftly. Maps were dropped on the enemy in unfavorable situations. Order of Battle became highly important for psychological warfare purposes when enemy units could be addressed by their proper unit designation or by the name of their commanders. Intelligence was brought into play: bad food, bad supply, poor command, or mishandling of enemy forces in any way brought prompt propaganda comment.

Radio was the least useful for tactical operations simply because enemy troops do not carry private portable radio sets around with them. Radio was of high value in consolidation operations, passing along instructions to liberated populations, and telling civilians in the line of approach about measures which they could take for the common benefit of themselves and of the Allies.

A constant problem, never completely ironed out, was the use of airplanes for dropping purposes. The leaflet producers had, in all Theaters, a tendency to prepare excellent leaflets, bale them, and send them along to the airfields in the expectation that an overworked, unindoctrinated air force staff would automatically pick up the leaflets, develop dropping mechanisms, pack the leaflets into planes, take them out and drop them to the right language-groups at the right time in the right place. This was of course as absurd from the aviators' side as it was, to the civilians, to let their brain-children accumulate in hangars or warehouses. For strategic droppings, systematic arrangements could be made through proper official channels, and a regular air operation detailed to do the job. Tactical dropping did not allow enough time for elaborate staff work in each instance, and recourse was had to psychological warfare liaison officers (either Army officers or civilians with the approximate status of Tech-rep, technical representative, a familiar sight on World War II airfields) to get in touch with the units, help them install dropping facilities, explain the leaflets to the actual pilots and bombardiers, and thus obtain a high degree of cooperation. In almost every theater, this policy succeeded, and a wide variety of leaflet bombs, leaflet dispensers, and other leaflet-circulating gadgets was developed.

Artillery distribution also played a significant part. For front-line situations artillery could do the job better than planes, without risking aircraft in a quasi-combat operation. Leaflet bombs of considerable scope appeared, and could be made to fit almost any appropriate weapon. Circulation was also effected by means of clandestine operations to friendly civilians, frequently combined with air-drop of weapons, medicine, and other essentials.

The organization of all these new functions has changed military organization. A whole new series of units were attached in echelon, each fitted to the appropriate level for its work. The rear-area functions and strategic propaganda work always required a considerable proportion of civilian aid, since some of the best workers in this line were persons who either did not wish to join the Army or whom the Army did not wish to have join it. These psychological warfare organizations were unbelievably cheap, even if measured by the most conservative estimates of their success. It is impossible that the army of the future, whether American or foreign, will overlook this source of assistance. Psychological warfare nowhere replaced combat, but it made the impact of combat on the enemy more effective.

CHAPTER 11
Plans and Planning

With most military planning, it is feasible to work from the top down, define the strategic objective and then work out the actual requirements of the operation in advance. This is not true of psychological warfare.39 The objectives may be defined, and in the process of definition the general needs of a propaganda agency may be clarified. If a plan calls for a press or a radio, somebody can requisition a Davidson Press or a Hallicrafter radio and get ready to use it. But the plan cannot define goals, set time limits for the achievement of the goals, relate the goals to one another in a scheduled pre-fixed program of success, establish terms whereby psychological victory can be told from psychological defeat.

Psychological victory exists only in terms of the military victory which it is designed to assist. Psychological defeat, no matter how much critics or the enemy propagandist may allege it, can be proved to exist only when an actual defeat makes it real. Psychological plans are always contingency plans for the assistance of military operations. They are dependent on the military operation and they cannot be checked against fact except in terms of the military operations they ostensibly support.

Unfortunately, they were not always written with these reservations in mind.

Similarly, in psychological warfare, planning can be made realistic if it starts with the individual operation for the control of which the planning is done. Define the operator as anyone having a task in the actual preparation, production or transmission of propaganda materials, whether through electric communications or by print. The operator is not usually a person with a high security classification, yet he plays his indispensable part in fulfilling the highest and most secret strategy of the war. How can a plan be written that will be useful in carrying out the actual (and highly secret) strategy of the war while meeting the needs of an inexpert individual way down at the bottom of the control system? The answer is, of course, that no such plan can be prepared. Different plans are needed for successive phases.

The operator needs simple but basic materials. If he is a producer of some kind—such as a creative writer, an artist, a singer, a program arranger, a newscaster who does his own scripts and so on—he is likely to be a person with ideas of his own. Individual creativeness cannot usually be turned on and off like a faucet. Low-ranking and disciplined though the hired writer may be, he is still subject to the inward frailties of authors if he is any good. (This particular author sympathized deeply with some poor American Japanese who were given unbelievably dull outlines and told, "Turn this into exciting Japanese material! Give it pep! Make it rock them off their tatami! But don't get away from that outline one damn inch!" The nisei rolled their eyes; they did a poor job, as they knew that they would.)

The person who has to be told day in and day out how to operate is no operator at all. Psychological warfare is no place for unsuccessful short-story writers or would-be radio commentators. It demands professional standards, and it has more than professional difficulties. Therefore what the operator needs is not technical instruction but general guidance.

He must be told what he can say, what he cannot say. He should whenever possible be given some reason for perplexing or cryptic instructions. He should be helped to become familiar with what we are trying to tell the enemy. There is nothing classified about that, since the enemy is to be told it as soon as possible. The guidance given the operator should be:

• (1) Plain.
• (2) Feasible. (This sounds superfluous, but was not so during World War II when operators were sometimes told to attack such-and-such an enemy institution without referring to it directly or indirectly.)
• (3) Organized. (The material at OWI was not organized until the last several months of the war, with the result that hundreds of thousands of words of propaganda commands remained in force, technically, but un-indexed and arranged only by weekly form.)
• (4) Specific in showing timing. (General controls should not be issued at the beginning of operations; when revised, the revision should supersede the revised section, and not be placed beside it. Other provisions should be given expiration dates, after which they pass out of effect.)
• (5) Mandatory. (Control should be expressed in do or don't; personal advice is better conveyed through informal channels.)
• (6) Non-security or low-classified. (This material, for the operators, should be accessible to the operators. Often the most important operator—the best newsman, the most effective leaflet artist—may be a rather doubtful citizen, an alien, or even an enemy volunteer. He cannot follow guidances unless he knows them, and it makes a farce of security for his superior to be able to tell him the guidance, so that he can memorize it, but not able to give him the document itself.)

These rules, though simple, are not always easy to follow. Here is an example of a bad guidance:

The exaggeration may seem apparent, but it is a fair sample of the worst directives as actually issued and many, though not quite so bad, were near it. The same guidance in more acceptable form would read:

The other need of the actual operator is material. The script writer needs actual texts of everyday enemy speech in order to keep his slang and idiom up to date. The artist needs correct photographs of enemy cities in wartimes so that the leaflet picture he makes will not look as outmoded as a crinoline or a Model T. All of them need all the information they can get about their own country—good handbooks, dictionaries, elementary histories, textbooks in fields which they may not know. It is amazing how hard it is to explain America to foreigners; the American soon finds out how little he knows his own country, and needs information about his own background along with current materials concerning the enemy.

Where radio propaganda is in question, the script-writers and broadcasters will read the enemy radio propaganda if they do not get enough fresh non-propaganda material concerning their audience. Sooner or later this will degenerate into alternate soliloquies of the radio men on each side, each watching the other to see if he got a rise out of him last time. OWI people frequently expressed idiot glee at having made Radio Tokyo frantic. The OWI men were the first to admit that their glee was pointless, since it was the Japanese broadcaster and not the Japanese audience who responded. But for lack of current information about the enemy the propagandist will refer to his own professional opponent. There is, of course, a very substantial difference between a change in enemy propaganda occasioned by a real inroad which one's own propaganda had made in enemy opinion, and a change that consists simply in angry or smart backtalk. Finding that difference is the responsibility of propanal, not of the operator.

One of the most useful functions of the pre-belligerent plan lies in the periodic exercise which it gives in propaganda discipline. Information and intelligence agencies frequently see their jobs so technically that they lose sight of the need for coordination within the mechanism of an entire government. Press relations people try to get stories in the papers. Radio people try to maintain listener interest. Educational officers are concerned with the teachability of their materials. Spokesmen of the different agencies in related fields (such as shipping, air transport, currency control, social welfare) are apt to comment on a particular situation without reference to the needs of an inclusive national policy. How much advice was handed out on the occasion of the ultimatum to Tito? The Jugoslav authorities plainly risked politico-psychological pressure from us; they came prepared for the consequences; but both American official and private opinion expressed a wild medley of recommendations, suggestions, and analysis. Federal officials showed no better discipline than did the private citizens. Pre-belligerent planning may be forced on the United States by eventual international crises, but before that stage is reached, private and governmental persons working in the informational field might do well to consider how readily they could offer or enforce cooperation in the event of a real emergency.

Figure 51: Basic Types: Start of War. This leaflet embodies almost all possible mistakes in psychological warfare. It was prepared to explain why war came between America and Japan, but was not even begun until many months after Pearl Harbor. The heading and style are official and formal. The message is no more than a footnote to history. Its last fault redeemed it; no arrangements were made for dropping it.

The general plan then goes on to state the conditions which will govern the operating agencies. The important part of this section lies in guessing where the operating agencies are likely to need coordination and where not. If the plan is to reveal highly important and therefore secret strategy, it should merely sketch the broad outlines of the processes intended, leaving to experts the responsibility of determining specific do's and don'ts. In such a case, however, the plan should not leave room for inter-agency or inter-personal doubt as to where the interpretive function lies. Too often, highly formal agreements are interpreted out of existence by propagandists who are interested in adding their own proposals to those set forth and agreed upon in the plan. When definition of the plan in operational terms40 is needed, the location of the sub-definer should be made very plain unless the propaganda establishment itself happens to be remarkably well organized and in no further need of definite prescriptions of function.

The inclusion of actual political and military goals in a propaganda plan is an exceedingly ambitious undertaking. The goal, "To foster a spirit of nationalism and independence among the Eastern Arachosian people to the end that they may revolt and set up their own pro-Allied government," is a commitment beyond the reach of normal propaganda. It comes closer to requiring all the facilities of the operating state, financial, diplomatic, covert, and paramilitary, to put it into effect. The goal, "To give sympathetic circulation to Eastern Arachosian autonomist sentiments so as to promote interference with the occupying power," is much more nearly attainable. Military goals are often described by propagandists as attainable by means of propaganda alone, but there is no known example of psychological warfare having attained a strictly military goal without assistance by other means of warfare. Goals such as "the defeat of ——," "the surrender of ——," or the "destruction of ——," have no place in practical propaganda planning, since they are pretentious or deceptive. More legitimate are the goals actually obtained by propaganda, such as "encouragement of a spirit of factionalism which may assist defeat ...," "promotion of war-weariness that will make the process of surrender more easily accomplished ...," and "appeals for the destruction of ——." Such points may appear minor, but it is the overstatement of the propaganda case that has many times goaded disinterested outsiders into becoming skeptics or opponents.

Political and military goals can be described only in terms of hopes; effective psychological goals—goals resting in the form of opinion which it is desired to create—are very concrete. If enemy surrender is desired, propaganda leaves to the operator no further scope for revenge themes which will frighten the enemy away from surrender. If the enemy leader is to be discredited on the basis of having poor military judgment, the contrasting good judgment of the enemy general is a necessary ingredient. The psychological goals have to be framed in terms of how much the enemy listener, the Propaganda Man, can stand and can believe. (See page 153.) Since he listens irregularly, furtively, and half-antagonistically, propaganda will defeat itself if it shifts from goal to goal with logical but finespun dexterity. Psychological goals are attained only by sustained, consistent patterns of propaganda; they have to be plain, repetitive, and insistent. Political and military goals can be anything the planners feel like including as a pious wish. They might as well consist of a current re-statement of political and military aims for the subject or area at the time of planning. They are beyond the reach of practical psychological warfare.

National-level and general staff level plans have to be made up in much the same way. If the plan is good it will provide for its own circulation to all government instrumentalities which do in fact conduct propaganda in the particular field involved. It does no good to adopt a plan for the encouragement of the Filipinos and the inducement of cooperation among the Filipino officials of the Japanese-sponsored Republic (which means a tone of conciliation toward Filipino leaders or officials who hold puppet titles) if a cabinet member keeps calling publicly for the immediate execution of any Filipino who ever had dinner with a Japanese. It is useless to try to cooperate with Communist guerrillas in West K'tai on the argument, "We all oppose the Axis together! Ideologies don't matter when brave men fight side by side"—if at the same time the guerrillas know we have a strong domestic campaign on against Communism. Telling a Communist that ideologies don't matter is like saying to a Jesuit, "Let's skip the superstitions, Father, and leave religion out of it. Get down to business." To some kinds of people, ideology is business. The broad propaganda plan should make choices that reflect the judgment of the reviewing officers. If they are made in a vacuum, without taking into consideration the actual opinion of the audience group, they might as well not be made at all.

Propaganda plans must be circulated to non-propaganda agencies in order to make sure that routine public relations or announcements of current or contemplated action, and statements of basic policy do not contradict or neutralize the plan once it is put into effect. Frequently months of propaganda work can be undone by a tactless speech from somebody in the same government but in an unrelated agency. Authoritative circulation of the plan—which means that the plan must be neither long nor over-secret—can help forestall such mistakes. Speech clearance, requiring review of all official and policy-making speeches in advance of delivery, is the surest safeguard against overt collision between different spokesmen. In World War II it was applied with some success, but the exceptions were so conspicuous that the effective coordination passed almost unnoticed.

Wise consolidation plans give urgent priority to the restoration of the home-grown informational media and recreational facilities of the occupied territory. Definite anticipation of shortages in radio facilities, newsprint, ink, paper, and other supplies can ensure prompt reopening of consolidated facilities under way. The propaganda operators may tell higher echelons that the local people are not competent, cannot be trusted, and so on, but General MacArthur's experience in Japan would seem to indicate that no army can carry on consolidation propaganda as efficiently as the conquered civilians themselves can, provided the civilians have:

• (1) Reasonable though restricted freedom of utterance, so that they can know what they may or may not say;
• (2) Prompt liaison for security and policy clearance, so that they can get an authoritative yes-or-no answer on proposed projects, enabling them to maintain operation without intolerable delays;
• (3) Friendly professional assistance in meeting material and staff shortages;
• (4) A series of phases, marking off the forms and methods of control so that the controlling staff can plan for a first phase of doing its own publishing and broadcasting, a second phase of letting the local people work under license with close supervision and technical help, and a third phase of permitting them freedom within the normal censorship limits of military government. The American DISCC's (District Information Services Control Commands) in the American Zone of Germany did an excellent job in moving rapidly from phase one to phase two in 1945 and 1946.

It must be repeated that plans are effective only when transposed into plain, simple, usable guidances for the actual operatives. When a plan is so secret or so involved that the only people who could carry it out are not allowed to know anything about it, it becomes a sad self-defeating effort.

CHAPTER 12
Operations for Civilians

Plainly, psychological warfare operates against civilians with as much effect as it does against troops. Indeed, under the rather high standards set for modern warfare by The Hague and Geneva conventions, psychological warfare is left as one of the few completely legitimate weapons which can on occasion be directed against an exclusively civilian and noncombatant target. Even though World War II erased most of the distinctions between military and civilian, leaving civilians in the vertical front line of all air war, psychological warfare gained. It became a more useful instrument for bettering war. Civilian interest in propaganda became no mere matter of emotional loyalty or philosophical preference, but a life-and-death matter to its recipients. After fire raids it would be a madman who would disregard an enemy bomb-warning leaflet without trying to figure out its application to himself and his children.

Short-wave does make it possible for advanced standard-wave propaganda stations to pass along material which has been prepared in the homeland. Large staffs can do the work. The news can be put through a large, alert, well organized office. Features can be prepared by real professionals, acted out by a number of actors, put on records, reviewed, and then relayed to the standard-wave station whenever needed. The Americans at Radio Saipan thus broadcast right into Japan, and were able to transmit materials which could not possibly have been put on the air with the staff working on the island. The people at Saipan were mostly telecommunications technicians, engaged in picking up the short-wave from Hawaii or San Francisco and in passing it on into the enemy country on the standard wave length. Millions of Japanese heard our Saipan standard-wave broadcasts, in contrast to the dozens or hundreds who had heard our short-wave previously.

The use of homeland facilities makes possible the advance preparation of a large collection of material ready for broadcast. In security-sensitive or otherwise dubious situations, four or five alternate programs can be worked out for the same amount of program time. On wire recorders or disc records, the proposed material can be passed around in finished form, reviewed, selected, censored, and approved. This would not be true of a hurried station working far forward in the zone of operations.

Short-wave has its own advantages, however, apart from its utility as a means of getting program material to the relay stations. Short-wave can and will be picked up by the enemy monitors and enemy intelligence systems. It will also be heard by persons of power, wealth, and influence, irrespective of the economic or political system of the enemy. The big shots of any system know how to transcend limitations that awe or defeat the ordinary man. The short-wave transmitter speaks therefore to the enemy government, to the groups which compose the enemy government, and to the individuals in or out of the enemy government who are leaders in their own country. We found that the Joho Kyoku and the Gaimusho (Foreign Office) in Tokyo were mimeographing a daily summary of our San Francisco broadcasts, and we thus knew that anything we said over San Francisco would be heard by the most influential men in Japan. Captain Ellis Zacharias, U.S.N., spoke Japanese and had known most of the Japanese leaders personally before the war; with government monitoring known to exist he felt free to address the Japanese leaders personally and directly with assurance his words would reach them, and his broadcasts are confessed by the Japanese themselves to have played a contributory part in bringing about the Japanese decision to surrender.