The Unsolved Mystery Of Pete Ellis
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Category:
Gazette
History
Leadership
By LtCol P.N. Pierce - Originally Published February 1962
“In order to impose our will upon Japan, it will be necessary for us to project our fleet and land forces across the Pacific and wage war in Japanese waters.”
-Maj Earl H. Ellis, 1921
Twenty years before Pearl Harbor, the Marine officer who predicted the attack disappeared mysteriously, somewhere in the “forbidden islands” of the Pacific.
Behind him, he left one of the most amazing documets ever written - a secret study which forecast the events of World War II, still two decades in the future.
What happened to LtCol Pete Ellis, the master strategist and spy who waged a single-handed war against the Japanese Empire?
The answer, obscured by a veil of secrecy and intrigue-has baffled investigators for 38-years.
The curtain rose on the mystery of Pete Ellis during the summed of 1920. On the first day of July, John Archer Lejeune became the 13th Commandant of the Marine Corps. Two weeks later Ellis was ordered to Washington.
No one around Headquarters Marine Corps saw much of LtCol Ellis. Visitors to his cubby-hole office on the second floor were greeted by a terse sign: No Admittance. His nights were pretty well accounted for by the midwatch guard reports. Somewhere between midnight and dawn, they invariably showed a common entry: Lights burning in 209. Office occupied.
Occasionally, his friends bumped into him in the corridors. Those who inquired about his job all received the same answer. Mumbling something about “special assignment,” he would excuse himself and retreat behind the locked door of his sanctum.
After almost a year, Ellis emerged from seclusion with the product of his labor-a 30,000-word document entitled “Advanced Base Operations in Micronesia.” On 23 July 1921, classified Top Secret, it was officially approved as “Operation Plan 712-H” by Commandant Lejeune. In it Ellis predicted war between Japan and the United States.
Japan is a world power, he wrote. Considering our consistent policy of non-aggression, she will initiate the war. Both her army and navy will be up to date in training and personnel. Considering her natural defensive position, she will have sufficient military strength to defeat our fleet.
Then, with prophetic insight, he listed the objectives against which Japan would launch her attack: Hawaii, Wake, Midway, Guam, the Philippines.
Ellis’ plan called for the US seizure of key islands in the Marshall and Caroline Islands. These objectives, he pointed out, would be necessary to provide the fleet with bases from which to launch a counterattack against the Philippines. The eventual advance on the Japanese homeland, he wrote, would have to be made via the Marianas and Bonin Islands.
Saw Importance of Aviation
Ellis did not limit himself to strategy. His study included tactical plans in some detail. Though aviation was still in its infancy, he provided for aerial attack against enemy positions.
The development of the airplane is proceeding so swiftly their characteristics and methods of attack can be foreseen only to a limited degree, Ellis wrote. Nevertheless, he foresaw bombers with speeds up to 200 miles per hour; fuel capacities for seven hours of flight, and bombs weighing up to 2,000 pounds.
He also predicted that torpedo planes would probably be developed.
Ellis’ idea of Japanese aggression was nothing new to his friends. He had been rabid on the subject of Japan’s motives in the Pacific since a tour of duty on Guam in 19M. After the Peace Conference at Versailles, following WWI, the subject had become a mania with him.
The peacemakers had met to divide the spoils of war among the victors. To Japan had gone League of Nations mandates over the widely-separated island group of Micronesia-the Marianas, the Carolines and the Marshalls. Pete Ellis was convinced the US delegates who had agreed to Japan’s request for these territories had cast their vote for the next war.
As he saw it, the more than 2,500 islands of the archipelago-stretching from Japan to the equator-formed a screen for the eastern face of Asia. Behind its protective cover, the imperialistic Japanese were free to carry out their long-cherished dreams of expansion. Anyone who couldn’t see the danger in giving Japan control over the Pacific islands had no business deciding the iisue. And Ellis said so, whenever and wherever the opportunity presented itself.
Policy Trouble
His outspoken criticism of America’s foreign policy soon landed him in hot water. Attending a reunion of WWI buddies in Washington’s Willard Hotel, Pete was asked to say a few words. Warming to his subject, he proceeded to deliver a bitter tirade against the Administration’s altitude of appeasement in world politics. A reporter, who happened to be present, dutifully reported Ellis’ criticism in the morning’s edition. By noon the blunt-talking Marine was highly unpopular on Capitol Hill.
Nineteen-twenty was an election year. With the recently finished “war to end all wars” still fresh in the public mind, no politician wanted a uniformed jingoist ruffling pre-election waters. Marine Corps Headquarters had received curt orders to put a muzzle on LtCol Ellis.
The completion of his study marked a big milestone in the driving ambition of Pete Ellis’ life-to convince his government of Imperial Japan’s plans in the Pacific. He had no illusions about the reaction he could expect to the radical theories set forth in his plan. Except to a few far-seeing thinkers they would be the ridiculous ideas of a crack-pot. Outside the military, he could expect to be damned as a war-monger.
What he needed was absolute proof to back up his arguments. But this was a step that would have to wait. The savage intensity with which he had driven himself to complete the plan, and the long hours of overwork, had taken their toll. A week after he finished his project, he was admitted to the Naval Hospital. The medical report showed: “Illness evidenced by headache, insomnia, loss of appetite and mental depression. Diagnosis: psychoasthenia.”
Discharged after three months’ hospitalization, he returned to duty. Two weeks later, with considerable casualness, he asked for 90 days leave “to visit France, Belgium and Germany.”
There were two curious circumstances connected with his request for leave. In the first place, the request was approved by the Secretary of the Navy the same day it was received. Returned the following day, the letter set an all-time record for prompt handling of official correspondence.
The second oddity was noticed by Gen Lejeune’s secretary. Prior to his departure, Ellis called at the Commandant’s office to say goodbye. During the apparently normal conversation between the two officers, the secretary noticed Ellis pass a sealed envelope to the General. Without comment, Lejeune unobtrusively slipped it into his desk drawer.
Having said his goodbyes, LtCol Ellis walked out of the front door of Marine Corps Headquarters-and vanished.
Pete Ellis entered the scene on a cold, blustery, Kansas morning in mid-December, 1880. Christened Earl Hancock Ellis, he lived the youth of a typical mid-western farm boy. Graduating from high school at 18, he went to work on his father’s place. But after two years of slopping hogs and riding plow handles, he’d had enough of the farm.
Lured by the excitement of life in the big city, Earl made the initial investment in his turbulent future for a few dollars and change. A day-coach ticket on the Santa Fe was his passport to the bustling activity of downtown Chicago. Before the week was out, the Windy City ceased to hold any allure for him.
Perhaps it was the fact that board and room came high in the big city. Maybe it was the enticement of the colorful recruiting poster. Shimmering in the sidewalk heat of a late summer afternoon, it promised a life of high adventure in exotic lands.
Whatever the reason, he marched resolutely into the Post Office Building-and a life far removed from the humdrum existence he had known amid the nodding cornfields of Kansas. It was three months before his twentieth birthday.
The change from Earl Ellis, farm hand, to Pvt Ellis, US Marine Corps, required three hours, the usual indignities of a physical exam, and a ten-minute lecture by a jut-jawed sergeant.
Pvt Ellis didn’t finish his first enlistment. Before he reached voting age, he was commissioned a second lieutenant-and had been permanently tagged with the nickname “Pete.”
By the end of WWI he had collected four decorations and a set of lieutenant colonel’s leaves. He had also earned a widespread reputation as a brilliant officer, given to periodic bouts with the bottle.
Many tales have been told about Pete Ellis since that day he walked out of Marine Corps Headquarters. The true account of his mysterious adventure may be pieced together only from many sources.
No one in Europe ever saw him. When he failed to return at the end of his leave, some long-forgotten officer sent a brief note to the Adjutant Inspector. “The leave granted LtCol Ellis has expired. How shall he be carried on the muster roll?”
The memo came back with curt, underlined instructions scrawled across the bottom. “Continue to carry on leave.”
… continued