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Hassas bombalama yaparak sivil kayıpları en aza indirmek ve usta birkaç atışla düşmanı savaş dışı bırakmak mı yoksa elinde ne varsa sivil - asker gözetmeden düşmanın kentlerine yağdırarak savaşı kısaltmak mı? Hangisi daha insani?
Malcolm Gladwell Bombacı Mafya'da, Hollandalı bir dahinin, Alabama'nın ortasındaki bir pilot kardeşliğinin, ateşe ve patlamalara kafayı takmış bir grup bilim insanının ve Churchill'in sıkı dostu bir psikopatın hikayelerini iç içe dokuyarak İkinci Dünya Savaşı'ndaki en büyük ahlaki ikilemlerden birini masaya yatırıyor.
İkinci Dünya Savaşı'ndan önce çoğu komutana göre uçak önemsiz ve marjinal bir araçtı. Ama kendilerine "Bombacı Mafya" adını veren ufak bir idealist pilotlar grubunun farklı bir düşüncesi vardı: Hassas bombalamayla düşmanın savunma hatlarını aşıp, en kritik noktalarını vurarak savaşı daha az ölümcül yapamaz mıyız?
Bombacı Mafya'da canların ve devasa kaynakların dünyanın bir ucundaki birkaç hedefi vurmak ve birtakım kuramları kanıtlamak adına nasıl bozuk para gibi harcandığını, Alman ve Japon kentlerinin ve yüzbinlerce sivilin savaşı kısaltmak adına nasıl yok edildiğini okuyacak ve şu sonuca varacaksını Savaş muazzam anlamsızlıklarla dolu bir saçmalıktır.
203 pages, Paperback
First published April 27, 2021
Because airpower was young, the faculty of the Tactical School was young — in their twenties and thirties, full of the ambition of youth. They got drunk on the weekends, flew warplanes for fun, and raced each other in their cars. Their motto was: Proficimus more irretenti: “We make progress unhindered by custom.” The leaders of the Air Corps Tactical School were labeled “the Bomber Mafia.” It was not intended as a compliment — these were the days of Al Capone and Lucky Luciano and shoot-outs on the streets. But the Air Corps faculty thought the outcast label quite suited them. And it stuck.
The Bomber Mafia is a case study in how dreams go awry. And how, when some new, shiny idea drops down from the heavens, it does not land, softly, in our laps. It lands hard, on the ground, and shatters. The story I’m about to tell is not really a war story. Although it mostly takes place in wartime. It is the story of a Dutch genius and his homemade computer. A band of brothers in central Alabama. A British psychopath. Pyromaniacal chemists in a basement lab at Harvard. It’s a story about the messiness of our intentions, because we always forget the mess when we look back. And at the heart of it all are Haywood Hansell and Curtis LeMay, who squared off in the jungles of Guam. One was sent home. One stayed on, with a result that would lead to the darkest night of the Second World War. Consider their story and ask yourself — What would I have done? Which side would I have been on?
The full attack lasted almost three hours; 1,665 tons of napalm were dropped. LeMay’s planners had worked out in advance that this many firebombs, dropped in such tight proximity, would create a firestorm — a conflagration of such intensity that it would create and sustain its own wind system. They were correct. Everything burned for sixteen square miles. Buildings burst into flame before the fire ever reached them. Mothers ran from the fire with their babies strapped to their backs only to discover — when they stopped to rest — that their babies were on fire. People jumped into the canals off the Sumida River, only to drown when the tide came in or when hundreds of others jumped on top of them. People tried to hang on to steel bridges until the metal grew too hot to the touch, and then they fell to their deaths.
