70 Year Magazine Archive

Shock Treatment

by Michael B. King

Share this story

IN NOVEMBER 1944, the Turkish ambassador to the United States died in Washington, D.C. Returning his remains to Turkey proved impracticable in the midst of war; not until March 1946 did the ambassador begin his journey home. But what a journey that proved to be! The end of World War II meant the U.S. could use virtually any ship among the Navy’s vast array to effect the ambassador’s return. Meanwhile, the Soviets had been pressing the Turks hard, demanding concessions over the Dardanelles and insisting on a Turkish “neutrality” that actually meant alignment with Moscow against the Western democracies. Seizing on the need to return the ambassador’s remains as an opportunity to show solidarity with Ankara, U.S. officials selected the battleship Missouri—scene of Japan’s surrender in Tokyo Bay the previous September—as the ship that would best make the point.

On March 22, the Missouri left New York harbor, arriving at Istanbul on April 5 (with a stop at Gibraltar, where the British governor laid a wreath). The Missouri’s visit was gratefully received by the Turkish government, and the Soviet failure to respond helped shore up at a key moment what would ultimately prove the victorious Free World alliance in the Cold War. But, if Japan had not surrendered in August 1945, the Missouri would not have been available for that task. It would most probably have been cruising off the island of Honshu in March 1946, its 16-inch guns blasting away at Japanese fortifications in the opening phase of Operation Coronet, the allied invasion of Japan’s political center. As late as August 14, 1945, that is exactly what was expected to be the situation seven months thence. Only Japan’s sudden surrender assured the Missouri’s availability for other, quieter missions.

Comments

Advertisement

Advertisement