Tag Archives: japan

Atomic Bomb, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Hiroshima, Japan, Nisei

正覚寺

October 3, 2012 Mustang.Koji 24 Comments

正覚寺。

Catchy title?

In the past several years, as his dementia progresses, Dad is repeating many times how he broke his elbow as a young boy… “Many times” like as in every four minutes. No…every two.

I thought, “He doesn’t remember he ate like a horse ten minutes ago… How can he remember something that happened 80+ years ago?”

Well, I just HAD to find out about his story… and I did.

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The story (which never varies) is/was he was playing “oninga”, or tag, with the neighborhood kids. “There was nothing else to do then,” he would tell me. They would end up in the yard of 正覚寺 – pronounced “Shoukakuji” – the Buddhist temple which is a hop, skip and a jump from his home. No wonder he excelled in the triple jump at Nichu.

You can see a tiled roof on the tallest structure to the right of him. That is 正覚寺.

Dad and Temple — The tiled roof of “Shoukakuji” can be seen behind and to the right of Dad in this 1948 photo. He is standing alongside his childhood home.

For those who like visuals:

Map — Satellite view of home and Shoukakuji, 2012.

He would tell me (over and over) that while playing tag, “…I tried to get away so I jumped on this big round stone then leaped up to a branch on big a pine tree in front of 正覚寺.”

Now that I know he did the broad jump at Nichu, I thought this jumping thing was therefore plausible. (Did I mention I’m a writer for “Mythbusters”?)

“Trouble is, I jumped too far so my hands couldn’t grab onto the branch. I slipped off the branch then broke my elbow when I hit the ground”.

OK. So now, after “An Atomic Spark From a 1937 Yearbook“, I also know he excelled in the triple jump at Nichu. Plausible. (See… More proof I am a writer for “Mythbusters”.)

To this day, he cannot completely straighten out his right arm. It’s crooked. He now tells this story to my youngest kids, Jack and Brooke… Every four minutes.

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On September 7, 2012, I had to know. Off to 正覚時… But unlike my agile father of the 1920’s, I was walking very gingerly. There were four humongous blisters on my toes from walking in Japan and (from being tricked into) climbing Mt. Misen on Miyajima.

Shoukakuji Entry Gate — The sign at the entry gate, or “mon”. Shoukakuji’s middle character is written with an old Japanese character.

Indeed, there was a Japanese pine tree, or “matsu”. A huge one. You couldn’t miss it as you walk through the “mon”, or gate. It was so huge, the temple had steel braces installed to help hold these majestic branches up.

Majestic Branches — Steel posts and braces were installed to help hold up these ancient branches.

Off the to right, was the base of the tree. A puny trunk in relation to the Goliath branches… It was hard to believe at first this small trunk was the heart for this proud tree.

Then… at the base… was a large round stone. Could it possibly be? Plausible as we don’t know how long the stone was there… Am I tough?

But where’s the branch my father jumped for? Myth: Busted!… or so I thought.

Then we saw it. Above my son Takeshi in the picture. The base of a broken branch. It was at the right height! OK… Myth: Plausible.

But conclusive proof was just beyond reach. There was no evidence as to age of the tree or how long the stone was there…

Then, as if Aunt Shiz summoned him, the reverend of 正覚寺 came out…with his wife. He was about 90 years old. Almost as old as my dad but he still had his wits about him. Thank goodness.

He told us he didn’t know my father personally…but that he played with Suetaro and Mieko, Dad’s youngest brother and sister! He knew Suetaro well, he said. He listened to Suetaro blow on his flute from the house in the evenings.

My Japanese wasn’t good enough so Masako stepped in… She explained to the elderly reverend how my dad (her uncle) had jumped from a large round stone at the base of a pine tree here 80+ years ago and broke his elbow.

Unbelievably, the reverend said with pride, “The pine tree is about 400 years old…and that stone has been there for as long as I can remember. It hasn’t been moved, either.”

Then the wife said that a number of years ago, the branch had broken off but it was very long. Then after it broke off, “…a swarm of bees made a home inside. We had to seal the crack unfortunately,” to account for the mortar on the branch.

Was his story a myth? Busted? Plausible? Confirmed?

Myth: Confirmed.

Dad wasn’t imagining ANYTHING. His memory is intact from that time.

Mission accomplished.

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But to end this fun story, we had my Aunt Shiz’s interment the next morning.

The reverend’s son was the officiant. Glorious. The circle of generations continues. And he brought along one more piece of treasure to the interment:

A photo of the majestic Japanese pine tree covered in snow.

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There are souls in this tree, too.

Oh… I was kidding about Mythbusters.

Army, Atomic Bomb, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Friends, Hiroshima, Japan, Military, Nisei, World War II

A Mother’s Anguished Solitude – Part II

September 30, 2012 Mustang.Koji 27 Comments

Young Kono — A young Grandmother Kono takes a modeling pose in front of her Seattle barbershop. She cannot possibly have foreseen what the future holds in store for her.

The most wicked risk of a mother’s love for a child is loss, and the price of loss is grief… But the sheer passion of grief can become indescribable if a mother ponders on her decisions.

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In Part I, we left when my father returned to Seattle to stay while leaving behind in Hiroshima his two youngest siblings and his parents. This was 1937. Before leaving, the family took this portrait with Grandmother Kono sitting on the sakura wood at the house. Suetaro is standing next to her:

Portrait — One of the last portraits of the three siblings and my grandparents. Grandmother Kono is sitting on the sakura wood written about in “Souls of Wood“. Circa 1937

My father says that their younger sister Mieko was ill often. Indeed, she passed away in 1939 at just 15 years of age from an apparent kidney infection. Since my father was already in Seattle by that time, only his youngest brother Suetaro was left along with my grandparents. Most decisively, Grandmother decided Suetaro was not to return to Seattle when he turned 18. In “Masako and Spam Musubi,” she was very concerned over the harassment and intimidation she had received due to the threat of war against Japan. I also “feel” that Grandmother knew Grandfather was ill by the time she made the decision.

Sure enough, the very next year (1940), Grandfather Hisakichi passed away from stomach cancer. He was 59 years old. After raising Mieko for 15 years and marrying Hisakichi 31 years earlier in Seattle as a picture bride, only she and Suetaro were left in their home. War with America would start the following year. A war in which her three oldest surviving children called America home.

One family. One war. Two countries… One mother.

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Teen-aged Suetaro — An undated school portrait of Suetaro. He looks to be about 14 years old.

For reasons I have been unable to document, Suetaro became part of the Imperial Japanese Army. All Dad will say now is being taken by the Imperial Army was “part of life” back then. Below, he is sitting on the sofa’s arm to celebrate the young man in the center being sent to China’s Army HQs.

According to the handwritten date on the back, this photo of Suetaro below (on right manning a non-combat grade light machine gun made for training) was taken on May 10, 1939 at the “Hara Mura Training Grounds”:

Hara Mura — Suetaro on the right. Dated May 10, 1939. I wonder what Grandmother Kono was feeling.

Here is Suetaro, perhaps in a posed photograph for PR purposes. It is of professional quality and taken on the same day as above:

Posing — Likely a professionally taken photograph of Suetaro. It was also taken on May 10, 1939 in Hara Mura.

I have a strong belief this was taken at the Fukuyama training grounds for his regiment, the 41st Infantry Regiment (unverified):

In Uniform — A proud looking Suetaro in his full Army uniform. I cannot tell if the handle on his katana, or “samurai sword”, is wrapped in silk or machine stamped. All military issued swords were numbered, by the way.

Another piece of his elusive history then emerged – but it was not from the 100 year old woodshed.

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Readers know that my Uncle Suetaro was killed in action as a Japanese soldier on Leyte. His regiment – the 41st Infantry Regiment – was annihilated by the US Army on Leyte. My Grandmother Kono was told he perished on July 15, 1945 – just a month before Japan surrendered. My father’s secret US Army unit, the Military Intelligence Service (MIS), had a direct hand in the high number of Japanese casualties – and the low number of American casualties. In other words, the MIS likely had a direct hand in the annihilation of Suetaro’s regiment. The MIS was comprised of Americans…of Japanese descent.

MIS and Dad — Dad as part of the MIS in post-war Japan.

It is not known if Grandmother knew of this fact. It would have been an overwhelming of her heart.

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However, this is not a story on Suetaro’s life but about his life with his mother. In “Masako and Spam Musubi”, we know she had her second stroke after being informed by the remnants of the Japanese military of her beloved Suetaro’s death. The last Kanemoto in the family home was now… herself.

During my trip to the family home in September, my cousin Masako, her younger brother Kiyoshi, her son Toshiro along with my son were looking at vintage photos Toshiro uncovered just a couple weeks prior in the shed. A number were of Suetaro with my father and Grandmother. We were all quite emotional by then. Masako removed herself from the table; I assumed she was overcome. I didn’t stop her from quietly leaving thinking that.

Instead, she came back a few minutes later with something in her hand. It was a small notebook. Aged and frayed at the bindings. Her eyes were red.

It was Suetaro’s war diary. We were simply stunned. Masako had it secreted away. For decades. She chose to bring it out now. For closure. It was the right time.

The Farewell Letter — Masako shocked all of us when she brought out Suetaro’s Army diary. (L to R) Masako, Kiyoshi and Toshiro, her son. The Kleenex box is there for my use.

It took us a few moments to realize what she had brought. It was brittle and smelled of old books. The paperstock was of low quality – more like newspaper stock – as paper was in very limited supply during the war years. We handled it as gently as possible.

The first few pages were of what he did during a short period of time; Suetaro’s writing was neat and in black ink.

Then the handwriting changed. Suddenly. It was hurried. Rushed. And in pencil.

It was his farewell letter to his mother. My dad’s mother. My grandmother. It was dated March 3, 1944.

Kiyoshi tried to read it; it was difficult as it not only was in his hurried cursive but in pre-MacArthur Japanese. Many characters are simply not used any more. Unused since 1945. Only a few people can read it – like my father. Suetaro’s brother. But we managed to read critical passages. I will include two pages as reference. However, these are very literal translations of a few sentences but needs be read in its entire context considering the environment was when he wrote this. It is easy to misunderstand or misconstrue his heart and soul at that moment.

Expected Death — Towards the left, it states, “初陣に臨むことを喜んでいます. 勿論, 生還を期してはいません”, or literally, “I am glad to be going to war and facing my first combat. Of course, I do not expect to be coming back.”

Free Brothers — He writes, “今の時局は日本が起つか亡びるかの境です。どうしてもやり抜かねばいけないのです。兄さん達を救い出すことも夢見てます,” or “At this time, Japan is at the point of either winning or perishing. We must persevere as I still dream that we will free our older brothers.”

I stress this abbreviated presentation can be misunderstood. My interpretation is, “I willingly go to war for Japan as we are on the brink of winning or losing. By winning, Japan will free my older brothers from the concentration camps in the US.”

He will fight – and die – so that Japan will win. If Japan wins, they would take over the United States and by doing so, free my Dad and his older brother Yutaka from the concentration camp. At the time of his writing, both were imprisoned at the camp in Minidoka, Idaho after being relocated from Tule Lake, CA. (His nephew, Bobby, had already perished in Minidoka at the young age of six.) His older sister, my Aunt Shiz who passed away last month, was imprisoned at Manzanar.

Man, my eyes welled up. Everybody was in shock…even Masako once again.

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I am unable to comprehend how my Grandmother must have felt reading that letter in 1944. Suetaro had secreted it away in the “butsudan”, or family altar. She had decided Suetaro was not to return to Seattle to join his elder siblings. Now, having read this letter, her regret must have been immense. Grief. She lost a piece of herself. A beloved piece.

Mieko had passed away. So did her husband in 1940. Now her youngest son writes he does not expect to return.

Could she have foreseen this fate while she happily stood in front of her Seattle barbershop near King St. and Maynard in Seattle in the 1910’s? I doubt it.

She would be alone. To ponder. To possibly regret to her last day.

A mother’s anguished solitude.

Grandma — It is dated April 9th on the back with no year indicated. However, as my father took it when he was in the MIS, I will assume it is around 1948. Her face is worn.

Army, Atomic Bomb, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Hiroshima, Japan, Military, Nisei, Uncle Suetaro, World War II

A Mother’s Anguished Solitude – Part I

September 28, 2012 Mustang.Koji 15 Comments

Grandmother standing near King and Maynard in Seattle with (L to R) unknown girl, Dad and her loving hand on Suetaro. Circa 1925

My Grandmother Kono could not have possibly foreseen her future pain in solitude… But the anguish she endured seven decades ago brings our family together today along with a message to the world.

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Born on October 6, 1888 in a Hiroshima village called Furue, Grandmother Kono came into Seattle on February 4, 1909 via the Shinano Maru. She was a picture bride for my Grandfather Hisakichi.

She gave birth to seven children; all but one was born in Seattle. They were American citizens.

Uncle Suetaro (Soo-e-ta-rou) was #6 and born in Seattle sometime late in 1920 although I have been unable to locate his birth records on-line. His name (末太郎) implies “last boy (or child)” but as you can see in the damaged photo above, Grandmother and Grandfather appear to have had an “oops” moment. That’s Mieko, their youngest sister; she became truly the last child.

Uncle Suetaro is on the high chair with Dad standing next to him. They are in front of my grandparent’s barbershop on King St and Maynard in Seattle. The shop was inside Hotel Fujii (no longer standing). Circa 1921.

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While growing up, Uncle Suetaro was my father’s favorite sibling. Suetaro and dad were inseparable from what I am told. Dad’s nickname for him was (and still is) “Sue-boh”.

Suetaro was a happy child and always made people laugh and feel good – like Grandmother Kono. Suetaro and Dad played “oninga”, or tag, together frequently; there was no Nintendo or footballs to throw around in the 20’s. When Suetaro got old enough, they picked “matsutake” mushrooms together on Grandfather’s mountain property as told in “Masako and Spam Musubi“. When Grandmother made fish for dinner, Dad wouldn’t eat it – but Suetaro did. Suetaro ate everything.

This is my favorite photo of three of the youngest siblings; we uncovered it just this month in Hiroshima thanks to my cousin Toshiro:

Dad says they had one bicycle to share between them. On school days, they would walk to the train station together in the morning while one slowly rode the bike. They would leave it at a little shop which was still quite a ways away. However, whoever got to the bicycle first AFTER school got to ride it home – quickly. Leaving the other brother in the dust. And it was a long walk – especially in the summer heat and humidity. Perhaps it was the bicycle in the early portrait shown in “Souls of Wood“?

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Dad left Hiroshima soon after graduating from Nichuu High School at 18 years of age; he arrived back in Seattle on May 18, 1937.

Grandmother, Suetaro and Mieko were left behind in Hiroshima.

He would never see his favorite brother Suetaro or Mieko alive again… and Grandmother Kono will soon experience a demonic dread that will stay with her for the rest of her life.

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To Be Continued… A direct link to Part II is HERE.

Army, Atomic, Atomic Bomb, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Friends, Hiroshima, History, Japan, Military, Photography, Uncategorized, World War II, World War II, WWII

Souls of Wood

September 26, 2012 Mustang.Koji 37 Comments

They walked on it. They posed for family portraits on it. They passed away on it. It felt as if their souls were infused in it.

Although my ancestors have come and gone through that house for about a hundred years, the old sakura wood shared their souls with me.

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Then:

Now:

Sakura Wood — Although aged and weathered, the sakura (Japanese cherry) wood upon which my ancestors sat upon for family portraits is unchanged. Even the glass paneling in the background is the same.

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While I am certainly not in the construction industry, my father’s family home is based on the Edo design era. Generally speaking, they are built on stone foundations, with supporting square timbers and a raised floor. “Tatami” mats were used for flooring.

My father, while now 93 and suffering from dementia, fondly recalled the floor plan of the Kanemoto house…especially of the main room seen the family portrait. He said it had a “tokonoma”, or a small alcove alongside the altar, or “butsudan”. He also clearly recalled the floor space measured by the number of tatami mats used; in this case, “hachijyou” or eight mats.

This is the room in which my cousin Masako “saw” Aunt Shiz a few days before she passed away.

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The house was indeed damaged from the atomic bomb’s shock wave. This same shock wave shook the Enola Gay violently even while trying to escape the blast at about 30,000 feet altitude. She was 11-1/2 miles away.

The house is about 4-1/2 miles away by way the crow flies. Almost due west of the hypocenter. Masako was knocked down by the hard-hitting shock wave while in her classroom.

A low lying hill called Mt. Suzugamine served somewhat as a barrier, deflecting the shock wave. Still, nearly all of the sliding door panels were knocked down and the ceiling was sucked up more than a foot per Masako. Roof tiling was also blown away from the force.

Ceiling — Masako is trying to show how the atomic bomb’s shock wave lifted the ceiling up over a foot. It is repaired now but was left as-is for decades.

Damage — Masako in the process of trying to show how far the ceiling was lifted by the blast on August 6, 1945.

My Uncle Suetaro took one of his last photos in front of this house in May 1944. My grandmother already had her stroke and is not in this photo but his sister, Michie, is standing to his right.

Sayonara — One of the family treasures found during our journey to the family home in Hiroshima this month. Uncle Suetaro is going to war and his death.

Grandmother Kono’s funeral in 1954; my father can be seen in the lighter suit to the left standing next to Michie and Masako (hidden by the flowers):

Grandma Kono Funeral — Grandmother Kono’s funeral at the house. 1954

The home does have spirits within. It’s not cornball. It is an incredible sensation. We were called to those souls in the wood this month. Seriously.

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When I saw my son in front of the home, I saw that I’m in the last half of my journey in life… but I came back to myself on that old sakura wood.

Old — Early family picture in front of the house. The entry is on the right.

My son Takeshi standing next to the Kanemoto name in front of the house just this month. The entry can be seen behind him.

第二次世界大戦, Marines, Military, Navy, Old Man Jack, World War II

“Old Man Jack-ism” #4

August 17, 2012 Mustang.Koji 38 Comments

“Koji, don’t let anyone tell you different. War makes good boys do crazy things.”

That was the first time Old Man Jack shared something with me about the war in a voice of unfeigned remorse. In turn, it was one of my first journeys in his time machine in which he allowed me to ride along.

Front row seats. Free of charge.

It was in 2002 to the best of my recollection. It was just before my littlest firecracker was born.

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KA-BAR. If you are a World War II US Marine who served on “those stinkin’ islands”, there is no explanation necessary.

A KA-BAR was a Marine’s most prized personal possession. It was always at their side.

They opened their C-rations with it. Dug foxholes with it. Chopped coconut logs with it. Hammered nails with it. Indestructible.

Most importantly, for killing. Designed for slashing and stabbing. Desperate hand-to-hand combat. To the death.

The KA-BAR served them so well that many Marines who survived passed it down to their children.

Old Man Jack said several times, “I’ll tell ya – us white caps always tussled with the Marines ‘cuz they thought they were better than us…but there wasn’t anyone better at protecting your sorry asses with theirs when it came time.”

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(If you are prone to nausea, you should not continue to read this Old Man Jack story.)

I did not know this free ride was coming. It was unexpected and spontaneous. I recall that clearly.

That afternoon, he began describing something vile he witnessed during the war. Today, I fully realize he was trying to vomit demons out from his soul.

He needed to.

2006_0923Image0010 — Jack visiting at my house on Sept. 23, 2006. He would fall gravely ill about a year later.

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He didn’t tell me what island; that would be his pattern up until his death. If he was talking about something a young man should never have witnessed, he would never say what island he was on. However, my educated guess as to the year would be late 1943 or early 1944.

Old Man Jack said to the best of my recollection that “…the Japs broke through our perimeter”.

“When the fighting broke out, most of us (the ground crew servicing Marine Corsairs) dove straight into the nearest foxholes. I only had a .45 and I kept my head down except for a dumb ass split second or two…” He tried to mimic what he did by extending his neck a bit and flicking his head left and right.

“All hell was breaking loose. Men were screaming all over the place. You could tell which rounds were from us and which ones were theirs.”

It was all over in a couple of minutes, Jack said. “I did hear moaning then a CRACK from a .45 or a M1…” A Marine apparently dispensed a wounded enemy soldier.

“I got up. There was still a little yelling going on. And I ain’t ashamed to say I started shaking real bad. Then I see this kid (i.e., a Marine) dragging this wounded Jap; he was hit pretty bad but I could tell he was still alive. The Marine grabbed his KA-BAR and sliced open that son-of-a-bitch’s mouth. I could see the Jap was flinching. The kid was trying to gouge out gold (from his teeth).”

Another Marine came over and shot the Jap dead with his .45. The kid yelled, ‘Hey! Why’d you have to go do that for?!’

The other Marine just looked at him for a split second and walked away. I stopped looking.”

Jack then just slowly shook his head.

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I remember Old Man Jack was looking down when he finished. He had on a grey sweatshirt as winter was coming on.

Front row seats in his time machine of nightmares. He just forgot to mention it was on his roller coaster he kept hidden inside.

He had other free tickets for me in the years that followed.

Army, Atomic Bomb, 第二次世界大戦, 陸軍情報局, Family, Hiroshima, Japan, Military, World War II

Dad Was in the Newspaper Yesterday

August 6, 2012 Mustang.Koji 24 Comments

The main Hiroshima newspaper yesterday ran a story on my Dad and his yearbook – and of international kindness. Fittingly, it was the anniversary of the atomic bombing.

Article — The main newspaper in Hiroshima (Chugoku Shimbun) ran an article on my father and his 1937 yearbook. (A) Mr. Tsukamoto 塚本, the man who kindly helped locate my father’s yearbook, (B) me　金本光司, (C) my father Koso 康三,
and (D) my father’s beloved Nichuu High School 広島二中. (Since you all can read Japanese, in this case, it is read top/down, right to left.)

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Hiroshima conducts an annual, somber peace ceremony each year on August 6th. A peace ceremony. That’s the message. Peace. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just peace.

They are not calling attention to themselves seeking pity or repentance. While there are still many who feel the Japanese brought this on to themselves, the citizens of Hiroshima have moved beyond forgiveness and are simply seeking to spread a strong global message for peace.

This year, the grandson of President Truman (below) was in attendance. Ari Beser was there, too. His grandfather was Jacob Beser – Enola Gay’s bombardier. Wonderful.

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In my short story, “An Atomic Spark and a 1937 Yearbook“, it tells of how two complete strangers from Hiroshima – without hesitation – sought out my father’s yearbook from 1937. They miraculously found one, made a digital copy and mailed it to me through my cousin, Masako, who still lives in my father’s childhood home in Hiroshima. I printed it out and showed it to him a week before Father’s Day this year.

Dad – who is suffering from progressing dementia at 93 years of age – was overjoyed. He recalled so many things from the most happiest years of his life…including being a track star. Riding on the train to get to school with his friend Aoki… The school song. Dementia was put on the back seat for that morning.

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In a small expression of thanks, I had sent to Mr. Tsukamoto a flask etched with “Nichuu High School, August 6, 1945”. I also asked he offer a prayer to the students of Dad’s high school on August 6th. Dad’s beloved high school was but 1,500 yards from the bomb’s hypocenter.

Think about it. 1,500 yards from the hypocenter. A Marine Corps sniper armed with a Barrett .50 caliber rifle can take out a target over 2,000 yards away. The school ceased to exist.

As part of the peace ceremonies yesterday in Hiroshima, Mr. Tsukamoto visited the school’s memorial wall. You can see the stainless steel flask on the black center stone in front of a praying Mr. Tsukamoto.

In this photo, Mr. Tsukamoto is offering a symbolic toast with water from the flask.

I will be showing the article to my father this next weekend.

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I wish to thank Mr. Tsukamoto, Ms. Kanetou and Ms. Michiko Tanaka, the reporter who authored this article on international kindness, forgiveness and peace.

To say it is incredible falls short. 1,500 yards short.

塚本様、金籐様、田中様、日本語で完璧に書くことは出来ませんがとても感謝、感動しました。お礼を申し上げる上、世界に平和あるように祈りました。本当に有難う御座いました。金本光司

Army, Atomic, Atomic Bomb, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Friends, Hiroshima, History, Japan, Military, Navy, Uncategorized, World War II, World War II, WWII

Peace

August 5, 2012 Mustang.Koji 19 Comments

At this day and moment in 1945, the bomb exploded 1,900 feet above Hiroshima.

I earnestly pray for an even better tomorrow.

Army, Cooking, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Fashion, Food, History, Japan, Military, Navy, World War II, World War II

A Blue Dress, Food and Post-war Japan

August 4, 2012 Mustang.Koji 31 Comments

My Aunt Eiko on Cover - Issued Feb. 1, 1949 — Cover Shot – Aunt Eiko

After a war’s end, the war for food continues for a losing country. Japan was no exception.

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In “There Be Gold in My Family,” Taro was mentioned. He was miraculously able to track down my mother and Aunt Eiko in what remained of Tokyo after Japan’s surrender in WWII. He was part of the US 8th Army’s Military Intelligence Service and had brought them much needed food, clothing and cigarettes.

Jan 2 1947 — L to R: Aunt Eiko, mom, Grandfather, Grandmother and Uncle Shibayama. Aunt Eiko, mom and uncle are wearing clothing given to them by Taro who took the picture. It is dated January 2, 1947 on the back.

After being discharged from the Army in early 1947, he returned to his family’s farming roots in Livingston, CA. With his meager income, he still managed to buy clothing and shipped them to my mother and Aunt Eiko. He was a kind and generous man. To this day, they are indebted to Taro.

One ensemble Aunt Eiko received was a blue dress, shoes, and handbag. More later.

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When war ended and the Allies began their Occupation of Japan, the population was in rags. Many had no homes.

Civilians Waiting for Bean Rations — Civiians with ration books waiting in line for beans. Note the containers for carrying clean water. Japanese signage discloses this line was in Shinagawa, Tokyo. Note the orderliness of the civilians.

Everyday people suffered from poverty, filthy conditions, hunger, and food shortages. In order to help distribute food, Japanese people were given assigned rations by the Allies. This was put into motion quickly thanks to the Supreme Commander, Gen. MacArthur. He ensured the most humane treatment possible under those wretched conditions.

In reality, living just on the rationed food often did not provide adequate nourishment, and a thriving black market developed amidst the constant food shortages. Civilians lined up, waiting for their rations of beans as even rice was not available to them at that time. (The last point is critical to this story.) They also carried receptacles to carry clean water which was also rationed. As many young Japanese men were killed, a majority of those lining up were the elderly, women and children.

Of course, Americans were issued food ration stamps as part of our war effort back home and textbooks show many photos of starving and tortured American prisoners.

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Back to Aunt Eiko’s blue dress ensemble.

She recalls how “Western” they looked. Especially since the outfit was a BRIGHT blue. Very American. Very NOT Japanese. Madonna-esque. You can tell by looking at the clothing the women were wearing in the food line picture.

Aunt Eiko was so happy though. She wanted to show off her dress but was fearful of the ridicule or demeaning comments she may receive from passerbys. You see, even in 1947, only a small minority “had”… The vast majority were “have nots”. Neighbors would turn their backs on those that appeared to have received favors from the conquering Americans.

Nevertheless, she was too happy and wore the ensemble through the still decimated Ginza. She caught a photographer’s eye. She was asked to model. So she did.

The photo series ended up in a magazine, a rarity as paper was still in short supply and very expensive. Another case of have versus have nots.

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Although the magazine now is extremely fragile (the paper quality was very poor), it is one of Aunt Eiko’s prized possessions. I was so worried the pages would fall apart if I opened up the magazine to scan the pages. Its odor was typical of old newsprint. But somehow, the pages stayed together.

This is the original B&W of the cover shot:

Inside the cover:

Orginal B&Ws of this page:

Original B&W. Note the handbag and shoes sent to her by Taro from Livingston, CA.

Aunt Eiko cannot recall why the actual magazine took about a year to be issued.

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But what is the connection between a blue dress, food and post-war Japan?

The photographer paid her with “ohagi”. Out of his food ration. Made out of precious rice and beans.

第二次世界大戦, Navy, Old Man Jack, World War II

Old Man Jack-isms #3

August 1, 2012 Mustang.Koji 22 Comments

One of the few times Old Man Jack would tell me what island something happened on, it would be humorous – as humorous as he could make it.

He HAD to laugh off some of the horror. He needed to survive being under attack by his own thoughts.

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On January 16, 2011, eleven months before he passed away, we decided to go to Denny’s for breakfast. He hated that place – except for their (gawd awful) coffee. He loved their coffee. And he complained about the coffee on the islands. Imagine that. Denny’s coffee couldn’t have tasted that much different. Denny’s uses ocean water, too, you know, for their distinctive flavor. Perhaps that is why he liked their coffee.

Jack with “Green Island” story and his tradmark grin – Jan. 16, 2011.

“Green Island” was Jack’s last combat station when he earned enough points to be rotated back home. He told me when they yelled out his name, he just ran straight onto this makeshift pier where a PBy was starting up. He jumped in wearing only his shorts and boots. They took off. He was on his way home.

(Click here if you wish to see official US Navy photos of Green Island when Old Man Jack was stationed there.)

In my internet research, I did come across some detailed battle history of Green Island. I printed it out and not knowing how he would react (even after 11 years of friendship), I presented it to him before the (gawd awful) coffee came. I didn’t want him to be TOO alert in case things didn’t go well. 🙂

Well, you can see his reaction. He was “tickled and pickled” I went through the trouble.

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During breakfast, he told me about one detail he was assigned to on Green Island – the digging of new holes for latrines. Never mind my eggs were over-easy. But he’s gone through hell whereas I was spared. This was everyday fare for him.

He told me he picked out two “dumb new guys” who thought they knew everything for the detail. They went out where the other “used up” latrines were. He ordered them to start digging new holes in this hard coral-like stuff not too far from the other “used up” holes while he “supervised”.

I knew I would get his goat if I interrupted him. That was part of the fun.

So I interrupted him. For fun.

“Jack…dig? Why didn’t you just have them make a small hole then throw in a grenade?”

Well, I asked for it… in Denny’s… on a busy Saturday morning.

“You dumb shit,” he declared with that boyish grin. “YOU could have been one of the dumb new guys. YOU would have fit right in. We didn’t need any more craters! We had LOTS of craters – all around us! So we dug holes like we were ordered to. So shut up and listen!”

Whooo-ee. That was fun… in Denny’s… on a busy Saturday morning.

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I never asked him if he read the history on Green Island. Later on, though, Old Man Jack said he had wanted to go back to those “stinkin’ islands” just to see. It felt as if he wanted to let some demons out.

He never made it back.

Perhaps he’s there now saluting his young buddies he had to leave behind.

Army, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Hiroshima, Military, Uncle Suetaro, World War II

Were Japanese Soldiers Frightened?

July 12, 2012 Mustang.Koji 25 Comments

Last Photo — The last known photo of my Uncle Suetaro. He did not return from Leyte during the final stages of World War II. My Grandmother Kono – having suffered a stroke – is propped up by Japanese “shiki-futon” for the picture. Taken in Hiroshima, 1944.

Yes, a small percentage of Japanese soldiers were anxious to die for their emperor.

But a vast majority was frightened of having to go to war. My opinion, of course.

Young Japanese boys were drafted from farms and fishing villages – just like we did here in the US of A during that time. Boys from Parsons, Kansas or from a sea coast shrimping town in Louisiana.

And they all had moms.

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Like all Americans of my age, we were taught that the Japanese soldiers of WWII were fanatics. That they all were hell-bent to charge into a hail of Allied machine gun fire. To willingly die.

We were also taught that when a US Marine charged well entrenched Japanese soldiers with a satchel charge, he was a hero. Not a fanatic. He was John Wayne or Kirk Douglas. Was Esprit de Corps driving the young Marine to offer his life to save his buddies?

There is no intent to question our American values of valor or honor. Just a quandary.

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My Hiroshima cousin Masako mentioned in Hawai’i having seen a photo of Uncle Suetaro and Grandmother. It was taken the day before Uncle shipped out for war (1944). Masako said Grandmother – having suffered a stroke the day before – was propped up by “shiki-futon”, or Japanese bedding for the picture. She felt strongly it was the last picture taken of Uncle Suetaro but doesn’t know what happened to it.

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A few weeks ago, my California cousin Janice came across a number of old photos; she had forgotten about them. She said there were some family photos from Hiroshima. Her father – Uncle Suetaro’s and my Dad’s oldest brother – had apparently been able to hold on to them through the decades.

I asked Janice if there were any photos of my Dad’s two youngest siblings, Suetaro and Mieko, or of Michie (Masako’s mother). Janice then described a picture of Uncle Suetaro in a uniform and Grandmother (seen at the beginning of this story).

I was stunned. Topo Giggio meets Godzilla. It was the photo Masako vividly recalled seeing decades ago.

Is there an air of fearfulness…of fright? You can decide. But as we were led to believe, all Japanese soldiers were fanatics…yes?

War makes fright.

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True stories about World War II – One war. Two Countries. One Family