On September 2, 1945, hundreds of servicemen and representatives from every Allied nation gathered on the deck of the battleship U.S.S. Missouri, anchored in Tokyo Bay. Under the watchful eye of General Douglas MacArthur, Supreme Allied Commander in the Pacific, representatives of the defeated Empire of Japan signed the formal instruments of surrender, officially bringing the Second World War – the deadliest conflict in modern history – to an end. The road to Allied victory in the Pacific was a long and brutal one, claiming the lives of over 33 million soldiers and civilians. But while Japan announced its unconditional surrender on August 15, the path to the formal ceremony of September 2 was a fraught and uncertain one, involving dozens of tense negotiations and a harrowing surrender flight that nearly upended the entire peace process. This is the forgotten story of how the Second World War actually ended.

In July 1945, the leaders of the Allied Nations met in the German city of Potsdam to hammer out the details of the coming post-war peace. But while Nazi Germany had capitulated nine weeks before, in the Pacific the Empire of Japan doggedly fought on. While U.S. B-29 bombers conducted round-the-clock firebombing raids against Tokyo and other major Japanese cities, two million Allied personnel were massing in preparation for Operation Downfall, the planned amphibious invasion of the Japanese Home Islands. With the Japanese population expected to fight fanatically to the death, the predicted casualties were horrific – as high as 800,000 Allied servicemen and ten million Japanese soldiers and civilians. The number one priority of the Potsdam Conference was thus to convince the Japanese to accept unconditional surrender and bring the war in the Pacific to a swift end. On July 26, the delegates issued the Potsdam Declaration, which read, in part:

We… representing the hundreds of millions of our country-men, have conferred and agree that Japan shall be given an opportunity to end this war. The prodigious land, sea and air forces of the United States, the British Empire and of China…are poised to strike the final blows upon Japan… The full application of our military power, backed by our resolve, will mean the inevitable and complete destruction of the Japanese armed forces and just as inevitably the utter devastation of the Japanese homeland.

…[the] following are our terms. We will not deviate from them. There are no alternatives. We shall brook no delay.

There must be eliminated for all time the authority and influence of those who have deceived and misled the people of Japan into embarking on world conquest, for we insist that a new order of peace, security and justice will be impossible until irresponsible militarism is driven from the world.

…We do not intend that the Japanese shall be enslaved as a race or destroyed as a nation, but stern justice shall be meted out to all war criminals, including those who have visited cruelties upon our prisoners. The Japanese government shall remove all obstacles to the revival and strength[en]ing of democratic tendencies among the Japanese people. Freedom of speech, of religion, and of thought, as well as respect for the fundamental human rights shall be established.

…We call upon the Government of Japan to proclaim now the unconditional surrender of all the Japanese armed forces, and to provide proper and adequate assurances of their good faith in such action. The alternative for Japan is prompt and utter destruction.”

Despite this apocalyptic ultimatum, the Japanese rejected the Potsdam Declaration, and vowed to keep fighting to the bitter end. Consequently, on August 6, the B-29 Enola Gay dropped Little Boy, a 15-kiloton nuclear weapon, on the city of Hiroshima, killing an estimated 90,000 soldiers and civilians. That same day, U.S. President Harry S. Truman issued a statement announcing:

“It was to spare the Japanese people from utter destruction that the ultimatum of July 26 was issued at Potsdam. Their leaders promptly rejected that ultimatum. If they do not now accept our terms they may expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth.”

Yet the Japanese continued to ignore Allied ultimatums, so on August 9th another B-29, Bock’s Car, dropped the 21-kiloton Fat Man bomb on Nagasaki, killing 80,000 people. When the Japanese again refused to surrender, the U.S. Air Force began preparing for a third atomic strike. This proved unnecessary, for on August 15th the Japanese people turned on their radios to hear a shocking broadcast: the voice of Emperor Hirohito announcing that Japan would accept unconditional surrender. The traditional narrative of the end of WWII is that the atomic bombings were directly responsible for the eventual Japanese capitulation. This assumption, however, has since been challenged by historians. After all, since June 1944 Allied firebombing raids on Japanese cities had killed nearly ten times as many people as the atomic bombings while having little effect on Japan’s will to fight. Indeed, in the minutes of the Imperial War Cabinet between August 6 and 15, the atomic bombings are barely mentioned. Instead, the event which forced Japan’s hand was more likely the Soviet Red Army’s invasion of Japanese-occupied Manchuria on August 9 – the same day as the bombing of Nagasaki. Now facing an unwinnable war on two fronts, the Japanese leadership had to decide which of the Allies would grant the more favourable terms of surrender, and allow them to, as best they could, save face for the imperial family and with the general Japanese public who’d been for quite some time fed lies about how the war effort was going and concerning Japan’s unquestionable superiority. On that note, one of the major issues preventing the Japanese accepting unconditional surrender was the fate of the Emperor and the Japanese monarchy. Realizing that the communist Soviets were unlikely to allow the Emperor to continue reigning, the Japanese thus decided to surrender to the Western Allies. Yet even this decision was very nearly overturned, as on the eve of the Emperor’s broadcast a cadre of fanatical Army officers led by Major Kenji Hatanaka tried to launch a coup d’état, murdering the commander of the First Imperial Guards Division and attempting to place Hirohito under house arrest. However, the conspirators failed to convince the rest of the army to overthrow the Emperor, and the coup failed.

Concurrently to Emperor Hirohito’s radio broadcast, the Japanese government under Prime Minister Kantaro Suzuki transmitted an official acknowledgement of the Potsdam Declaration to Allied Supreme Headquarters. In response, President Truman called an emergency meeting in the Oval Office, after which he held a press conference in which he announced to the world:

“I have received this afternoon a message from the Japanese Government in reply to the message forwarded to that government by the Secretary of State on August 11th.  I deem this reply a full acceptance of the Potsdam Declaration, which specifies the unconditional surrender of Japan.  In the reply, there is no qualification.  Arrangements are now being made for the formal signing of the surrender terms at the earliest possible moment.  General Douglas MacArthur has been appointed the Supreme Allied Commander to receive the Japanese surrender.  Great Britain, Russia and China will be represented by high ranking officers.  Meantime, the Allied armed forces have been ordered to suspend offensive action.  The proclamation of VJ Day must await upon the formal signing of the terms by Japan.”

Indeed, despite the formal declaration of surrender, there was much left to do. The 4 million Japanese troops still in the field would have to be stood down and disarmed – a task that would require considerable negotiation and coordination. But getting Japanese delegates to the negotiation table would prove an unexpected challenge. Not only might Allied fighter pilots accidentally shoot down the aircraft carrying the delegates, but so too might fanatical Japanese commanders looking to stall the surrender process. Furthermore, the pilots flying the aircraft might also choose to crash them in a final act of defiance. To prevent any of this from happening, at 9:52 AM on August 15 – the same day as Hirohito’s announcement – General MacArthur sent the following instructions to the Japanese government:

“The Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers… directs the Japanese Imperial Government to send to his headquarters at Manila, Philippine Islands, a competent representative empowered to receive in the name of the Emperor of Japan, the Japanese Imperial Government, and the Japanese Imperial General Headquarters certain requirements for carrying into effect the terms of surrender. The above representative will present to the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers upon his arrival a document authenticated by the Emperor of Japan, empowering him to receive the requirements of the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers.

The representative will be accompanied by competent advisers representing the Japanese Army, the Japanese Navy, and Japanese Air Forces. The latter adviser will be one thoroughly familiar with airdrome facilities in the Tokyo area.

…The party will travel in a Japanese airplane to an airdrome on the island of Ie Shima, from which point they will be transported to Manila, Philippine Islands, in a United States airplane. They will be returned to Japan in the same manner.…Such airplane will be painted all white and will bear upon the side of its fuselage and the top and bottom of each wing green crosses easily recognizable at 500 yards.

The airplane will proceed to an airdrome on the island of Ie Shima, identified by two white crosses prominently displayed in the center of the runway….Weather permitting, the airplane will depart from Sata Misaki between the hours of 0800 and 1100 Tokyo time on the seventeenth day of August 1945. In communications regarding this flight, the code designation “Bataan” will be employed.

The airplane will approach Ie Shima on able course of 180 degrees and circle landing field at 1,000 feet or below the cloud layer until joined by an escort of United States Army P-38’s which will lead it to able landing. Such escort may join the airplane prior to arrival at Ie Shima.”

The requirement that the aircraft’s hinomaru or rising sun insignia be painted over was intended not only to prevent Allied forces from accidentally shooting them down, but also to humble and humiliate the Japanese delegation – as were the proscribed callsigns Bataan 1 and Bataan 2 – a pointed reference to the infamous Bataan Death March of April 1942 in which some 6,000 American and Filipino prisoners of war perished. The aircraft chosen to carry the Japanese delegation were a pair of Mitsubishi G4M twin-engined light bombers, better known by the Allied callsign “Betty.” One aircraft was an unarmed transport variant, while the other was stripped of its armament specifically for this mission. As per MacArthur’s instructions, both aircraft were painted white all over with green crosses on the fuselage, wings, and tail.

The Japanese surrender delegation comprised 16 men and was headed by Lieutenant General Torashiro Kawabe, deputy Chief of the Imperial Japanese Army general staff. The chief of the general staff, general Toshijiro Umezu, had refused to participate in the surrender negotiations and appointed Kawabe in his place. In addition to Kawabe, the delegation also counted among its members Rear Admiral Ichiro, Captain Hidemi Yoshida, and Captain Toshiichi Omaye of the Imperial Navy; Katsuo Okazaki of the Government Research Division; Major General Morkikazu Amano and Lieutenant Colonel Masao Matsuda of the Imperial Army, and Army Lieutenants Harumi Takeuchi and Sadao Otake, who served as translators.

While the meeting with MacArthur in Manila was originally scheduled for August 17, due to delays in preparing the delegation and their aircraft, it was moved back to the 19th. At daybreak on the 19th, the delegation gathered at Haneda Airport on the west side of Tokyo Bay and boarded a Nakajima L2D, a Japanese-manufactured version of the American Douglas DC-3 airliner which had also been painted white with green crosses. After a 15 minute flight across the bay to Kisarazu Airfield, the delegation split into two groups and boarded their modified Betty bombers. By 7:07 AM, both aircraft were airborne and headed southeast towards Ie Shima in the Ryukyu Islands near Okinawa. The delegation was on edge as they made the perilous journey towards Allied territory, for they were aware that Captain Yasuna Ozono, commander of the 302nd Naval Air Group near Tokyo, had ordered his pilots to shoot down the surrender flight at all costs. What they did not know was that Ozono had been overruled by his staff and subsequently committed seppuku. Nonetheless, the flight proceeded in tense silence until 11:15 A.M, when, near the southern tip of Kyushu Island, it was met by an escort of two North American B-25 Mitchell light bombers from the 345th Bomb Group “Air Apaches” and twelve Lockheed P-38 Lightning fighters of the 49th Fighter Group. The two squadrons had been specially selected for this historic mission due to their illustrious combat records, with the 49th in particular having more confirmed victories than any other fighter group in the Pacific Theatre. A Boeing B-17 Fortress of the 6th Emergency Rescue Squadron was also on hand with an air-droppable lifeboat in case any of the aircraft were forced to ditch in the ocean.

But no sooner was contact made, the first hiccup of the mission took place as the American and Japanese aircraft suddenly lost radio contact with each other. The flight was forced into a holding pattern until the issue was resolved, whereupon they resumed their course for Ie Shima. At 12:40 PM, the flight spotted the large white crosses specially painted on Ie Shima’s Birch Airstrip and lined up for landing. At that moment, however, another hiccup appeared as a stray Mitchell bomber broke into the formation, forcing the first Betty to swing around and try again. Finally, both aircraft were safely on the ground, albeit surrounded by hundreds of American servicemen whose feelings towards the newly-arrived delegation were, after four years of savage fighting…ambivalent at best. As Lieutenant Takeuchi later recalled:

“As our plane approached the runway, we saw what seemed to be thousands of American soldiers forming a solid ring around the field. It was obvious this was not security, but merely curiosity. But so many! A sudden jolt; our plane contacted the runway firmly, only to become airborne again for a few moments. I learned later that our pilot was so impressed by the crowds of Americas that he neglected to lower the landing flaps, causing a higher sink rate than expected.

The moment of being confronted with our former enemy had arrived, After a pause, General Kawabe rose firmly to his feet and strode to the door. My own fears and uneasiness were put aside with the thought of the heavy burden placed upon this man and the personal anxiety he must be undergoing.”

As General Kawabe and the rest of the delegation walked down the sunbaked coral runway towards the path, the Douglas C-54 Skymaster transport that would carry them on to Manila, their path lined every 20 feet with extra-tall military policemen. These had been specially chosen by General MacArthur for their intimidation factor. Meanwhile, the gathered crowd looked on in silent curiosity – that is, until one member of the delegation emerged from the Betty carrying a conciliatory bouquet of flowers. At this the crowd erupted into jeers and shouts, telling the unfortunate officer exactly where he could stick said flowers. The Japanese were then met by a delegation of American officers, to whom Kawabe presented his credentials. Without any exchange of salutes or greetings, the delegation were then led to the shade beneath the transport aircraft, where, as translator Lieutenant Otake later recalled, a curious scene played out:

“Standing beside the senior American officer was a darker-skinned American acting as an interpreter. Very formally, instructions were passed to him with the intention of their being related to us in Japanese. It was here that I would have broken out in uncontrolled laughter had the tenseness of the situation not prevented it. I could not hear the words in English, but only a few words the ‘interpreter’ relayed to us sounded anything at all like Japanese.

When this gibberish ended, we were motioned to board the American craft that was to take us to Manila. We left with the feeling that the Americans were fully satisfied that they had flawlessly conveyed their message to us, yet I had no idea of one word that was said.”

Thankfully, this farcical incident had no adverse effect on the proceedings, and the delegates flew in relative comfort aboard the American aircraft, being served a hearty lunch and coffee with real sugar – a luxury unavailable in Japan for several years. At 6:00 PM, the C-54 landed at Nichols Field on the Philippine island of Luzon, where the delegation was met by Major General Charles A. Willoughby, MacArthur’s chief of intelligence. Like the MPs at Ie Shima, Willoughby, who stood 6 feet 2 inches tall, had been specifically selected to intimidate the Japanese. The drive into Manila – which just five months before 6,500 American and Filipino troops had died recapturing – was equally unnerving, as Otake later recalled:

“We left Nichols Field in a parade of staff cars/ As we drove down Dewey [now Roxas] Boulevard, Filipinos along the way paused to stare. Seeing Japanese inside the cars, many onlookers sneered and loudly shouted the Japanese words ‘Baka Yaro’[‘idiot/asshole’] at us, I could not help but jokingly remark, ‘Is that all we were able to teach these people while we occupied the Philippines?’”

The members of the delegation were billeted at a colonial mansion known as Rosario Manor, where they were treated to a feast the likes of which, thanks to wartime food shortages, they had not tasted in years.

After dinner, the delegation were summoned to Manila City Hall, where the conference with MacArthur was to take place. As Otake recalled:

“The colonel requested that the Japanese officers leave their swords behind. I sensed a tenseness throughout our delegation, and our eyes all turned toward our general, wondering what his reply would be.

With little hesitation, Kawabe’s words to be passed on to the colonel were, ‘Sir, our swords are part of our uniforms. We would like to be permitted to wear them, but we will leave them outside the conference room with our hats, if you desire.’ The colonel nodded, and the procedure was followed.”

This compromise was emblematic of MacArthur’s overall approach to the surrender process. MacArthur understood that the Japanese expected to be treated with the same brutality they themselves showed to prisoners and conquered peoples, and opted to take a “firm but fair” stance in order to allay these fears. This strategy paid off handsomely, as Otake later explained:

“There was much discussion of this early occupation date [August 25]. Because of the unpredictable reactions of both the Japanese civilians and elements, an attempted occupation at this early date might have its misfortunes….With little hesitation, Lieutenant General Richard Sutherland, MacArthur’s Chief of Staff, granted a three-day extension. This to us but was one example of the fairness with which the Americans handled many problems that arose. It was far different from the treatment we had expected, but this approach probably prevented consequences that the Japanese might not have been able to control.”

Indeed, this approach is credited with saving countless lives by preventing the mass outbreak of insurgent violence across occupied Japan.

The conference ran from 9:00 PM on the 19th into the small hours of the morning on the 20th, during which time MacArthur, Sutherland, and the Japanese hammered out the schedule and other details for the demobilization of the Japanese armed forces and the American occupation of the Japanese home islands – all of which were dutifully translated into Japanese by Lieutenants Takeuchi and Otake. Meanwhile, the 12 crew members of the Betty bombers that had ferried the delegation to Ie Shima were kept in secured quarters on the island and well taken care of. The two groups were reunited on the afternoon of the 20th, whereupon they re-boarded their white-painted aircraft and set off for Japan. Unfortunately, one of the Bettys ran into a ditch while taxiing, damaging its landing gear and rendering it temporarily unflyable. Five members of the delegation, having already gotten used to the quality and abundance of American food, volunteered to stay behind. This included Otake, who was billeted with a Japanese-American or nisei Lieutenant. The two got along famously, drinking sake and exchanging stories long into the night.

Meanwhile, the surrender documents were divided in two, and the remaining delegates boarded the second Betty. As before, they were joined by a pair of B-25 Mitchell bombers from the 345th Bombardment Group, who escorted them for a distance of 88 kilometres before heading home. The rest of the flight was largely uneventful, but as the aircraft neared the southern coast of Honshu Island, disaster struck. As Lieutenant Tekeuchi later recalled:

“I must have dozed, for I was startled when I felt a hand firmly shaking my shoulder. In the dim glow of the cabin, I recognized one of the pilots as he shouted to us, “We’re going to ditch! Everyone, life jackets on!’

The engines sounded as though they were running smoothly. But I hastily donned my life preserver as I was told to do and, after further instructions, covered my head with my hands to prepare for a crash landing. I was totally confused as to what was taking place.

I passed [my] leather briefcase between my chest and lap. My mind was filled not only with thoughts of my own danger, but also with the consequences of losing those surrender instructions. Would the tedious hours of conference in Manila – the product of which I was clutching – disappear with me into the inky water below? But incomparably more important would be the reactions from both opposing forces when it became known that the Japanese delegations and the surrender arrangement plans had not reached Tokyo. Would either side – or both – believe that the other had perpetrated an act of deception, and so continue the fighting, with the loss of many more lives?”

The aircraft came down in shallow surf off the coast near Hamamatsu, some 200 kilometres short of Tokyo. Miraculously, no-one aboard was seriously injured, and with the help of local fishermen the delegation was able to wade safely ashore. From Hamamatsu they arranged to be flown by Army bomber to Chofu Airfield outside Tokyo, from where they reached the Imperial Palace and delivered the surrender instructions to Prince Higashi-Kuni, the newly-appointed Prime Minister. The following day, the rest of the delegates – and their half of the surrender documents – arrived in Tokyo following an uneventful flight from Ie Shima. As Higashi-Kuni later recalled:

“The Emperor was quite relieved. He was thankful not only for the safe return of all his envoys, but that the dark days of the war had now ended.”

It was later determined that the ditching of the first Betty had been caused by a simple translation error. American mechanics on Ie Shima had mixed up the conversion between litres and gallons and filled up the Betty with only 1/3 of the fuel needed to reach Tokyo. It was but one of many translation hiccups that nearly derailed the delicate surrender process.

But even with the surrender instructions safely in Tokyo, there was still much work to do. Entire Army, Air Force, and Naval units had to formally surrender and hand over their arms to the Allies. Thus, over the following two weeks, dozens of “Green Cross Flights” of specially-marked aircraft zipped their way across the Pacific, carrying hundreds of Japanese delegates to meetings with their Allied counterparts.

The whole process finally culminated on September 2 in Tokyo Bay, when the formal instruments of surrender were signed and the Second World War officially came to an end. Yet despite General MacArthur’s official “firm but fair” policy, he still made sure to drive home in every manner possible that the Japanese Empire was well and truly defeated. Hanging from a bulkhead above the surrender table was the very flag flown by Commodore Matthew Perry when he steamed into Tokyo Bay in 1854, opening Japan to western world. And while the Allied copy of the surrender instruments was bound in gilded leather, the Japanese copy was bound in rough, unadorned canvas – and for yet another unnecessarily humiliating WWII surrender, please check out our previous video Yet Another of Hitler’s Ultimate Dick Moves.

While today Allied Victory in the Pacific seems inevitable, it is entirely possible that the Second World War could have dragged on for many more months, costing millions of extra lives. In the end, it took a heroic amount of effort, negotiation, and compromise – and not a small amount of luck – to bring the deadliest conflict in modern history to a swift and decisive conclusion.

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