The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943

The Imperial Palace, as the name suggests, is the residence of the Emperor—no, the Tenno—simply called the Imperial Palace.

The characters for its name must be written in seal script, to show solemnity.

Even when the Japanese approach the Nijubashi Bridge in front of the Imperial Palace Plaza, they still...

Bow first before passing through, or else you're "not a true citizen."

In the hearts of the Japanese, that lush green area in the center of Tokyo, separated by the moat known as the "passport river," is not just an ordinary residence—it is the dwelling place of the gods on earth.

And now, the dwelling place of the gods on earth has been bombed by the American devils!

"Damn Americans are bombing the Imperial Palace!"

Japanese pilots scrambled to intercept, shouting in terror. For a moment, the airwaves above Tokyo were filled with the anguished cries of Japanese pilots, as if they had lost their own fathers. Their words, full of guilt and self-reproach, would make anyone who didn't know the truth think they themselves had set the palace on fire.

As they desperately attacked these "super flying fortresses," bombs exploded in rapid succession near the palace, each blast sending up clouds of smoke. After the lead planes dropped their bombs, the following aircraft released theirs as well.

Twelve bombs hit their targets with precision. The violent explosions not only destroyed the palace buildings but also started a fire within the Imperial Palace. The rest of the bombs fell on nearby structures.

The bombing of the palace drove the Japanese pilots mad. Seeing their cannons and machine guns only punch holes in the B-29s, the desperate pilots resorted to ramming attacks.

"Banzai!"

With emotional cries, a Zero fighter made a desperate dive at a B-29. But at 300 meters out, it was blown apart in midair. Still, other planes followed suit, fearing the Americans would continue to drop bombs on the palace.

Soon, a B-29 was brought down, struck in the tail by a damaged Zero. Its tail shattered, the B-29 trailed black smoke for several miles north before plunging to earth like a lead weight.

Cheers erupted in the air.

But if they had seen where the plane crashed, they probably wouldn't have been so jubilant.

A waterworks!

The downed B-29 crashed directly into a large water tower.

That might not seem like a big deal.

If only…

If only the bombing hadn't taken place around 7 a.m., if only Tokyo's women weren't preparing breakfast for their families at that hour, if only the poor, unable to afford gas, weren't using charcoal stoves.

Maybe… But on this day, at this time, women were cooking at home. When the air raid sirens sounded, there was no time to put out the fire or shut off the stoves. People rushed into makeshift air raid shelters nearby, and then the bombs fell.

Though only a few dozen bombs landed in the factory area, most fell on residential neighborhoods. High-explosive bombs had limited destructive power against the flimsy homes made of wood, bamboo, and paper. The blast waves knocked down the wooden houses and sent paper flying, but they also toppled the charcoal stoves where breakfast was being cooked.

In an instant, the glowing coals ignited the surrounding wood and paper. The straw tatami mats were even more flammable, and soon, hundreds of fires broke out.

The area around the factory was densely populated, and most homes were simple wooden structures. The charcoal stoves provided the spark, and the wooden houses were perfect fuel. These factors combined to create a raging inferno.

The fire spread in an instant. Explosions and cries for help echoed as the flames roared.

After the fire broke out, it was already hard to control. Stray bombs, scattered by the wind, widened the area of destruction. On this day, strong winds blew over Tokyo, fanning the flames. The burning areas quickly merged into a vast sea of fire. The wind carried embers in all directions, igniting new blazes wherever they landed. Factories burned, schools burned, homes burned…

It was like the Great Kanto Earthquake more than twenty years earlier—everything seemed to be burning. From the Nakajima factory district in northern Tokyo, wooden houses were swallowed by flames. It was as if the sky and earth were both on fire.

The fire spread faster than anyone could imagine. Whenever it encountered flammable or explosive materials, there were either massive explosions or towering flames. The dense population and narrow streets allowed the fire to sweep through unhindered.

After the fire broke out, Tokyo's fire brigades and civil defense teams mobilized to battle the blaze, only to discover there was no water in the underground pipes—the collapse of the water tower had cut off the supply in some areas. Firefighters and civil defense members couldn't fight the fire with their bare hands, and collapsed buildings blocked the streets, making it impossible for fire trucks to get through. Even when they entered the fire zone, they could barely move. Faced with such widespread flames, people were almost powerless—they could only watch as the fire raged out of control.

Those lucky enough to survive the bombing rushed into the streets, but in the face of the fire and thick smoke, their luck ran out. Some were overcome by smoke, collapsing to the ground with blisters and bloody wounds from the heat. Yet, compared to those reduced to ashes, they were perhaps the fortunate ones. The most tragic were those trapped in air raid shelters. Without the fire, they might have emerged alive.

But when the fire broke out, many shelters were engulfed. With the air consumed, people inside suffocated to death.

Some who escaped found themselves surrounded by flames. Choking smoke felled them, and the fire finished them off. The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh. Who could say how many lives were reduced to those heaps and patches of ash? No one knew… Tens of thousands perished in the flames.

Turned to coke, it became fuel for the raging inferno.

There were so many coincidences in this bombing—the timing, the weather, and unexpected accidents—all the factors came together perfectly to create a disaster.

No, it should be called a grand feast!

Although the bombing itself did not cause much damage, the ensuing fire raged on for two days and one night, plunging the sky and earth into darkness, burning everything within the fire zone to ashes.

Those who survived the bombing, terrified, now had to flee from the monstrous fire. In their panic, people left the residential areas and the fire zone, crowding into open spaces outdoors. Streets, squares, parks, beaches, and school playgrounds all became places of refuge from the flames. Many open areas were packed with people.

To escape the fire, countless citizens crossed the Sumida River to seek shelter on the eastern bank. Around forty to fifty thousand people gathered in the open grounds of the Army Clothing Depot. However, a few hours later, a strong wind carried a few sparks, igniting the luggage people had brought and piles of military uniforms at the depot. Except for a dozen or so survivors, about forty to fifty thousand people were burned alive. The fire at the depot raged for several hours.

No one could have imagined that less than 200 tons of bombs could cause such horrific consequences in the bombing of Tokyo. Yet the impact this attack had on the Japanese people was immeasurable—not only because nearly one hundred thousand perished in the flames.

More importantly, the flames of war had finally reached the Japanese homeland.