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Show P Tokyo Rose Isn't One ' DEAR TOKYO ROSE: Some months ago Walter Winchell passed along to me your letter of April 14, 1948. The one you handed to the late Earl Carroll (in Japan) after you had told him your long, sad story. He promised you that it would be delivered deliv-ered personally to Mr. Winchell and given every consideration. Apparently the boys conducting the investigation had trouble nailing down some facts as they always do in serious cases of treason for espionage or psychological warfare where an attractive woman is involved. And before evidence was uncovered you hoped for a quick whitewash to your own taste right out of a pressure cooker. Well, you were right on the right track, Rosie. You got yourself an influential American friend to take your side. That's a very important impor-tant first step. Use Koch did that, too. But your line of attack is too similar to the line of attack pursued pur-sued by Dse Koch, the devil of Buchenwald. I am a little suspicious sus-picious of bad girls (and that's what you call yourself in your letter) let-ter) who turn around and charge that other Americans are so rotten that they are ready to deprive a hapless woman of liberty, toss her into jail, trump up evidence and try her for treason just to have a goat. Your words over Radio Tokyo constituted psychological warfare war-fare and aided and abetted Japan in its attempt to destroy Americans and conquer the United States, where you were born! KTiat Is psychological warfare? Col. Mori, chief of Japanese Intelligence Intel-ligence in China, when testifying before a U. S. Military Commission in Shanghai, stated under oath: "Yes, Japan spent millions on psychological warfare, because psychological warfare is a most effective ef-fective weapon to fire at a nation which permits freedom of speech and thought. It destroys the enemy (Americans) spiritually." Rosie, do you remember the night you broadcast about atabrine from Radio Tokyo to the First Marine Division, then struggling with the jungle, its horrible diseases and several fanatic Japanese army divisions di-visions on Guadalcanal? "And so, my poor forsaken little suckers," you beamed over your Zero Hour, "be sure to take your atabrine before be-fore you fall asleep. , "You poor Marines," you pronged us, "I wish you could spend the night' with me. I am a little Japanese Jap-anese pin-up girl. But it wouldn't be any use. Your officers won't tell you because they want you to take atabrine pills every day. This will prevent malaria and keep you on your feet until you get your heads shot off by brave Japanese soldiers sol-diers who must kill you to bring peace to the world. That was bad, Rosie, powerfully power-fully bad. That was psychological psychologi-cal warfare. That was treason if you are the girl who uttered the words. It's hard to say how many Marines you killed with that broadcast, impossible to estimate how many Marines you caused to be afflicted with malaria for the rest of their lives. General Vandegrift had to issue an order by which all of us had to come out of embattled em-battled front lines every day and queue up for rations. Before Be-fore we got anything to eat we had to swallow a pill in the presence of regimental surgeons, sur-geons, who were pulled away from their hospital duties with the wounded for that shameful routine caused by you. When the First Marine Division pulled out of the Solomons, it was a tattered outfit, Rosie, but you wouldn't let us alone, would you? Most of us who still had our arms, legs and head also had the aftermath after-math of typhus, malaria, jaundice, black water fever, filiariasis and multiple other infections. Our convoy to Australia was sup posed to be a carefully guarded military secret, but the night we arrived there you knew all about it The Imperial Japanese high command com-mand must have thought a lot of ycur Zero Hour to feed you its up to-the-minute secret intelligence. Theii you hammered away at us in what is known to professional psychological warriors as wedge driving, the subtle demoralizing, maddening form of black propa ganda which turns men against their best friends with ingeniously conceived diabolical lies. You broadcast to the valiant Australian divisions, then in the jungles of New Guinea, that U. S. Marines were gorging themselves with sizzling siz-zling steaks and roast lamb, drink ing cool foaming beer and raping aL the beautiful girls in Australia, the wives and sweethearts of their forgotten allies in New Guinea's jungles. You gave us that treatment treat-ment when we were on Guadalcanal, Guadal-canal, suggesting that 4Fs and hlack marketeers were stealing our wives and gals in the U. S. You were America'3 first and worst disc jockey, and you were on the wrong side. If the jury finds you guilty, I hope you have to listen to playbacks of your treasonable trea-sonable broadcasts every day for the next 20 years in jail. Capt. Frank Farrell, First Marine Divi-lion. |