In early March 1945, hundreds of B-29 bomber crews were briefed on Operation Meetinghouse, a high-stakes mission to firebomb Tokyo, Japan, from their staging positions in the Mariana Islands. Commanding the mission was US Maj. Gen. Curtis LeMay, the aviation prodigy who had already led daring air raids over Germany and North Africa in World War II’s European Theater.
With a chest full of medals — a Distinguished Flying Cross with two oak leaf clusters, a Silver Star, and a host of other awards for heroism — LeMay’s mere presence demanded respect from the crews who stood before him quietly at attention. The general took a puff of the ever-present cigar resting on his lower lip. “You’re going to deliver the biggest firecracker the Japanese have ever seen.”
The confidence in LeMay’s voice wasn’t the put-on machismo that some practice in the mirror. It flowed from the staunch belief in a doctrine of strategic bombing that had crystallized over a decade through discourse with like-minded aviators who thought long-range heavy bombers could win wars. Alumni of the polarizing group, derided as the “Bomber Mafia,” include figures ranging from Robert Olds — the father of “triple ace” Air Force legend Robin Olds — to Jimmy Doolittle, as well as Curtis LeMay.
