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The fact that two bombs made evil Japs into good Japs--in quick order--makes their use even more awesomely beautiful. We should take heed of the lesson to be learned here and prosecute the war on Islamofascism as strongly as practicable. For example, we should have leveled Fallujah--after dropping leaflets with a warning to evacuate within 48 hours or become part of the new landscape, the same type of warning we gave to the Japs long before we nuked them.

Given that I had a grandfather and father in the Navy in 1945, I'm quite thankful that Truman nuked a savage culture into submission. It was one of the last patriotic acts by a Democratic president in the past six decades.

I come from a little different background.

My father was in China when the war started. He had already seen some of the horrors that Japan inflicted on the Chinese before Pearl Harbor. As he describes his WWII service, he spent the first half of the war retreating from the Japanese and the second half chasing them...interspaced with bouts of Malaria and Dingi Fever.

This is where it get's strange. He was part of the occupying forces in Japan following the war; I spent my early childhood in a nice house on a hill overlooking Yokohoma harbor. We had a housemaid named Sumiko; she was more like a part of the family and only "helped" my mother. She was also paid a decent wage.

The interesting thing is my father was the only veteran of the Pacific war in his unit. He was soon on the carpet by a Colonel who was upset because he was coddling the Jap maid and paying her too much; wives were complaining. Dad set him straight on a few facts and the only thing that saved him from a courts martial was the Colonel's boss...who was a veteran and had served with Dad under Stillwell.

Dad didn't get off free though. Althought the Colonel couldn't touch him, he did give him new duties. He was put in charge of the labor force; basically Japanese military POWs working on base where he could coddle Japs to his hearts content.

I think that was the best thing that ever happened to Dad. We spent many a pleasant day in country homes with the families of his "people". When we finally had to leave these men, who didn't have much themselves, gave him two presents: one a beautiful sword (for the warrior) the other a silver ring with a blessing for peace on it (for a friend).

He stayed in touch with some of his "people" till the day he died. I know more then once he would become upset over these hollow Hiroshima demonstrations because he knew the bombs had saved more Japanese lives then they took.

After his funeral a couple years ago I gave my youngest son (who is a journalist) his ring, and my youngest son (who is finishing school) his sword.