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Aircraft, America, Army, Atomic, Atomic Bomb, Battleships, 第二次世界大戦, History, Japan, Marines, Military, Navy, Nisei, World War II, WWII

What Did FDR Know? – Part 2

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HTH Nov 30 1941
Hilo Tribune Herald, November 30, 1941.

The above: a front page published one week BEFORE Pearl Harbor.

OK… So the newspaper was published on Hilo.

Well, then, how about a second front page?  And from a different island this time – Oahu.

Pearl Harbor is on Oahu.

Honolulu Advertiser
Honolulu Advertiser, November 31, 1941.

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To continue with “What Did FDR Know?”, let’s go over some once secret stuff, shall we?

And stuff that wasn’t so secret – like the headlines above.  These NEWSPAPERS were in newsstands or tossed onto front lawns a WEEK before the attack on Pearl Harbor.  How can that be when our textbooks and history tell us our Navy and Army were caught with their pants down?

It may be fascinating and perhaps eye opening for some of you.  To some of you old hats in military history, not so eye opening.

This story will be centered on “MAGIC”, the cover name given to the secret diplomatic messages sent between Japanese diplomats and intercepted.(¹)

MAGIC intercepts will be the foundation for this story and subsequent ones.

The Japanese diplomats sent message after message believing their code was secure.

They were wrong.

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But first, some background on Pearl Harbor itself.  It’s important in your quest to conclude on “What Did FDR Know?”

JamesRichardson
Adm. Richardson

Before December 7, 1941 and as we read in Part I of this series, did you know the Pacific Fleet was based in San Diego?  The powers to be moved the fleet from San Diego to Pearl Harbor.  Even the decision to move the Pacific Fleet to Pearl Harbor was suspect at that time.  And have you thought about who was commanding the fleet  before the hapless Admiral Husband Kimmel  at Pearl Harbor?

Admiral J. O. Richardson was Commander in Chief, CINCPAC as of January 1940.  Per the “Final Secret of Pearl Harbor”, Richardson was the foremost expert on Japan and studied ad finitum Pacific naval warfare and mostly, of Japanese naval strategies.  He also knew well of Japan’s pattern of secret attacks.

Richardson disagreed with FDR’s opinion that basing the Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor was indispensable towards protecting American interests.  Richardson stoutly disagreed and said, “I came away with the impression that, despite his spoken word, the President was fully determined to put the United States into the war if Great Britain could hold out until he was reelected.”

He asserted that Pearl Harbor would be a “… g_d d_mned mousetrap”.  His belief was the fleet should remain on the West Coast in San Diego; out at Pearl Harbor, the fleet would be a strategic target for any Japanese surprise attack which he correctly foresaw.  His opinion was because not only did Pearl Harbor lack adequate fuel dumps and repair facilities, the Fleet lacked sufficient personnel and the waters around Pearl were unsuitable for training.  The fleet would need to return to San Diego and the like for such purposes.

Those who chose to ignore Richardson’s educated opinion did so by saying Pearl’s shallow harbor would preclude torpedo plane attacks amongst other things.

kimmel
Adm. Kimmel

Richardson asserted too strongly.  Although Richardson was highly qualified militarily, FDR removed him from command on January 19, 1941.  (Similar events are taking place notionally even today; about 200 top military commanders have been removed or forced out by the current Adminstration.)  FDR replaced Richardson with the more amenable Admiral Kimmel.  He was far down the list of able commanders but was still selected by FDR to run the Pacific Fleet.  While he somewhat shared Richardson’s belief, he was obedient as FDR expected.  Kimmel also wrongly assumed he would be “kept in the loop” by FDR insofar as military necessities, including intel.  Was he expendable career-wise?

…and that is how Kimmel ended up in command of the Pacific Fleet on December 7, 1941.

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Purplemsg
This is a copy of the actual PURPLE message and is the first part of the 14-part message which was delivered by the Japanese to the US Government on December 7, 1941 – late.

 BACKGROUND ON JAPANESE CODES

The Japanese military, just like the US military, had “secret codes” as did diplomats.  For the purposes of this blog, we will concentrate on two groups of code: the Imperial Japanese Navy’s code (JN-25) and of the Japanese Foreign Office (code named “Purple”).

Talking about Communications Intelligence, or “COMINT”, would take a number of blogs; indeed, entire books and papers are written about COMINT during this time.  For purposes of this blog, allow me to say COMINT is the acronym covering the analysis and usage of an enemy’s radio communications.  Codes are when words are replaced by groups of letters or digits and are usually manual.  A cipher, however, is the replacement of individual letters or groups of letters according to a plan; it is much more complex and are based on machines.

During this time, US COMINT was somewhat loosely organized, largely due to the rivalry between the US Navy and Army.

However, the cover name “MAGIC” was given to the intelligence obtained by both services involving the Japanese Foreign Ministry radio messages.  While at the embassy level, great amounts of military information – and espionage – was disclosed in these secret messages and were therefore at the disposal of the US Government and military.

Imperial Japanese Navy JN-25

The US Navy began its covert intelligence gathering in the early ’20s when they actually broke into the Japanese Consulate in NYC and copied the secret Japanese code in use at that time.  By 1926, the US Navy had broken the Japanese navy’s “Flag Officer’s Code”.  The Imperial Japanese Navy at that time conducted fleet maneuvers about every three years; they would send coded messages throughout the maneuvers.  The US Navy, by virtue of having broken the Flag Officer’s Code, easily listened in on them.

Their “listening in” on the Japanese fleet was so extensive that the US Navy knew of the capabilities of the Japanese warships.  The US Navy knew the speeds, armaments, designs, etc., of the Japanese warships, so much so that the US Navy made improvements to their own warships to counter them.

During this period, the US Navy established a small group within the Office of Naval Communications called “OP-20-G”.  It was formed without extensive knowledge of the US Army as infighting was common.  The same was true for the Japanese military.  Think of the Army-Navy rivalry in football – just grow it tremendously.

While the Japanese navy changed their code along the way, the OP-20-G had little difficulty breaking those, too… until late in 1940.  Knowing they were headed to war with the US, the Japanese navy prudently introduced an entirely new code, the JN-25.  It was much, much more complex than its predecessor.  It proved difficult to crack but they had made progress when… the Japanese navy once again made amendments to JN-25 immediately before the attack on Pearl Harbor.

The US Navy, therefore, was pretty much “blind” intel-wise for pretty much a week before Pearl Harbor.  It would not be broken until March 13, 1942.

But there was another group of cryptanalysts… an ace in the hole.

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“Purple”

japanese purple fragment
As the Purple machines were destroyed by the Japanese, this is the only surviving section of an actual Purple machine. National Archives

Alongside OP-20-G, the US Army’s cryptanalysis group called “Signal Intelligence Service”, or SIS, focused their energies on the Japanese diplomatic code.  The group was headed up by William F. Friedman; he was very successful in designing our own encrypted codes.

Japanese diplomats (NOT military commanders) communicated with each other using an existing code designed in 1932; the US cryptanalysts called this code “Red”.(²)  In 1937, the diplomats began using a newer, more complex code; the US referred to this code as “Purple”.  In total, there were fourteen codes used by the Japanese diplomats; two of these were of the most value, Purple and “J-19”.  Purple was used at the embassy level; J-19 was used at the consular level.  Both were machine crypts.

purple analog
The Purple machine, built from readily available parts. It supposedly cost $684.65. Eight were made.  National Archives.

In September 1939, the “unbreakable” Purple code, in the defective thinking of the Japanese, was broken; a key contributor to Friedman breaking Purple was that the Japanese had sent the same message using BOTH Red and Purple codes, a huge blunder in the cryptanalysis arena.  In eighteen months, the SIS, headed up by Friedman, cracked the code(³).  They even BUILT an analog machine from a blank chalkboard which quickly deciphered the “secret” messages.  (The code was so complex that the machine contained 25 connections, which could be arranged 6 pairs of connections, yielding over 70,000,000,000,000 possible arrangements which would determine the method of encryption.)  This was an AMAZING feat to have built a deciphering machine since SIS had not even seen the Japanese one.  Remember, this was 1938.  Nevertheless, these intense eighteen months landed Friedman in the hospital for four months from exhaustion and emotional strain.

With Purple broken, the US was able to immediately decipher all highly secret messages between all top level members of the Japanese diplomats located worldwide… and most importantly, without them knowing.  Given the originators of the messages, they had nearly indisputable validity.  The reach of MAGIC extended to the European Theater of war as well as briefly mentioned in Part I.

These diplomatic communications also clearly indicated espionage was taking place on the west coast of the United States.

Part 3 and 4 will show the contents of MAGIC intercepts so that you can answer on your own, “What did FDR know?”

I hope you will stay tuned.

Part 3 is here.

NOTES:

(¹) Unbelievably, Secretary of State Stimson was definitely upset when he learned we were intercepting messages.  He championed the statement, “Gentlemen, do not read each others mail.”  At the same time, consider the Snowden/NSA “scandals” of today.

(²) Ironically, Hitler had loved Baron Oshima so much he allowed Oshima to purchase a commercial version of Nazi Germany’s famous Enigma machine.  The machine used for Red was based on this Enigma construct.

(³) While Friedman was the man burdened with the responsibility of deciphering PURPLE, it is acknowledged that a man named Frank B. Rowlett was the man who actually broke the code.

America, Cars, Cooking, Family, Food, Photography

Hamburgers and a ’63 Merc

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MM burger
Marilyn Monroe eating an old-fashioned hamburger at a drive-in hamburger stand. Photo by Philippe Halsman.

Nearly all Americans would agree that hamburgers are the All-American icon.  A simple grilled ground beef patty, salted and peppered, slathered with mayo, mustard and ketchup then sandwiched in a plain bun.

At least that’s how I know them.  Oh, hold the pickles, please.

Now, us kids that grew up watching “Bewitched” and “I Dream of Jeannie” have given birth to a generation that has taken a simple thing and made them into $15 gourmet, fancied-up, mushroom-covered (expensive) cuisine.  Do you think I like Elizabeth Montgomery and Barbara Eden?  Drool…

But I don’t know if I like the “change”.

Back to this in a minute, folks.

The fancy hamburgers – not the drool.

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Dad had always owned Fords when he could finally afford getting a car.  I guess that’s where I get my Ford passion from.

July 5, 1955
Aunt Eiko holding me in front of my dad’s Ford Consul automobile. If you are reading my past stories about WWII, you will know that only the occupying Americans could afford to buy a car. Her husband was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal.  Occupied Japan, Tokyo, July 5, 1955.
Enoshima Beach, Tokyo - April 1957
My dad’s ’57 Ford Fairlane parked on Enoshima Beach, Tokyo. I’m thinking it was a dark green. April 1957.

After leaving Japan for the last time  in the late ‘50’s after the Occupation ended, my pop bought his first new car stateside in 1963 – he was 44 years old.  It was a two door Cascade Blue 1963 Mercury Meteor custom hardtop; a king of obscurity to say the least, but to a kid of about ten, it was Flash Gordon’s rocket ship.  Unlike Hillary, it was easy to love this car.

1964 or 1965 / Dad's new 1963 Mercury Meteor
On a road trip to Chicago in 1964. I’m still holding onto my Fujipet camera with dad’s 1963 Mercury Meteor behind us. This may have been in Utah.

Don’t get me wrong.  It wouldn’t get a choice spot if valet parked.  I say wouldn’t as my old man couldn’t afford valet, let alone a family dinner out.  But to me, the rocket ship had a chrome finish AM push-button radio – turn the dial on the right, find a station, pull out a button, then push it back in to set it.  Trouble is I did it a dozen times each time I got into the car.  But all I cared about was KFI 640 AM, the Dodgers’ station.  The golden voice of Vin Scully… and Fairly, Gilliam, Wills and I forget who played third.  They were World Series champs that year.

Six adults could get into this rocket ship with room to spare – eight of us little Japanese folks and a dog.  The cargo hold in back swallowed up my Sears JC Higgins bike in one gulp with enough space leftover for Frank Howard.  (I saw him hit the scoreboard in right field with a home run.)

Unless my aging grey matter is dissolving at warp speed (maybe it is), there were ash trays with shiny covers in each armrest…and this was for the back seats.  It was a favorite depository for my Bazooka chewing gum but I kept the wax covered cartoon that came with it.

Pop kept it for quite some time.  I passed my driver’s license test in it on my 16th birthday.  I got a 96 only because she claimed I never looked in the rear view mirror.  Poppy cock.  I always look in the rear view mirror for cops.  Even back then.

And as it was the only car we had back then, I also drove my date to one of my senior proms in it (I went to two.).  And the answer is, “No,” if anyone was wondering…but I’m sure she was disappointed.  Well, maybe not.

The four-wheel drum brakes were spectacular…not.  Instead of rubber meets the road, it was like rubber met the world’s supply of Vaseline while fighting the pull to the left… and this was at 25 mph.  Steering?  An oil tanker’s captain would do well.  Turn the wheel a lot; see the slight change in direction a few seconds later.  Pat Brady and Nellybelle turned better – and that was out in the desert on sand.

meteor engine
The Mercury Meteor’s 260 cid V-8.

I overhauled the epoch 164 hp 260 cid V8 sometime around 1976 in our garage.  At 13 years of age, she had become an old girl.  She had become a V6, meaning it had lost compression in two cylinders.  I remember setting zero lash, then three-quarters turn of the ratchet for the hydraulic lifters during the overhaul.  The distributor was the biggest headache, of all things.  It was like extracting an impacted molar and only after using copious amounts of Liquid Wrench in place of laughing gas did it finally come out.  “Older” Blue Oval guys know what I’m describing.

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Back to today’s elegant hamburgers and change.

Instead of the push-pull AM radio, my youngest son – who was seven when I bought it – similarly discovered my ’08 Mustang GT had a “My Color” dashboard light feature.  Now I know how my pop felt as my son forced me to experience every color of the rainbow while driving at night – every time.  It was like being at an all-night disco club.

Bazooka bubble gum and ashtrays are no more but treasure hunters will be pleased after exploring the map pockets.  No disappointments there.  I promise… especially after my little Cake Boss had sat in the back.  Latex gloves are highly recommended before exploring.

Overhaul it?  After all, my GT’s got a 281 V8, only twenty-one more cubes than my pop’s…but it pumps out a magnificent 505 hp thanks to her Roush supercharger and Carmen pulley.  Hell, I’m afraid to change spark plugs.  Who would imagine in 1963 there would be a TSB on just how to R&R spark plugs?

roush blower
My Roush supercharger and gizmos.

And unlike my pop’s ’63 Merc which ran on simple mechanical principles (but threw physics principles out the window for the so-called braking), the computing power in my Mustang would cause Einstein to strike a pose like Captain Morgan.

And today’s stunning braking power is the true reason for seat belts – it compassionately keeps your head from being continually used to redesign the windshield.  The aftermarket Wilwood six-piston disc brakes I installed with slotted and cross-drilled rotors exacerbates the stop-on-a-dime tendencies… which is a good thing.

270768_1922679229805_1326818011_31876806_6107098_n
The Wilwood Six Piston disc brakes on my Mustang.

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So it appears the delicious, basic hamburger of the 1960’s has been brought into the 21st Century.  Kids that watched Elizabeth Montgomery and Barbara Eden fooled with the wonderfully simple ground beef and bread formula to give us today’s foodie gourmet burger…and we can still listen to Vinny’s golden voice, to boot.  Glorious.

And well, with 505 hp at the crank instead of 164 hp, it’s hard to complain.  Neither do my kids when they hear the whine of my Roush supercharger.  They like to scream.  But it’s a shame my pop’s ’63 Mercury Meteor won’t be swept into anyone’s museum.

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I guess technology has its benefits.

I’ll take a gourmet burger in the end after all.

Pass the Heinz ketchup, please.

At least that hasn’t changed.

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

The Pain of Survival and Aunt Michie – Part 7

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“When it comes to giving, some people stop at nothing.”

– Vernon McLellan

That was Aunt Michie.  She gave all of herself and of her life strength to others because her heart knew no other way.

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At the moment Aunt Michie watched the ugly mushroom cloud rise from her field that day, her older siblings – my dad, Aunt Shiz and Uncle Yutaka – were all imprisoned in the “war relocation centers” scattered about the United States.  These were truly prisons and the popular view is that FDR imprisoned them “for their protection” because they looked like the enemy.(¹)

Life within these “camps” was “sub-standard”.  They were forced to live in small, shoddily built wooden barracks covered only with tar paper with little or no privacy.  No running water inside their barracks – they had to go wait in line outside, whether it be rain, snow, dust storm or searing desert sun to use public latrines or showers. Food was served in mess halls on pot metal plates at specific times, just like in the military.  The food was miserable according to Dad and worse yet, they had to wait in line again.  For the first month or so of imprisonment, he said all they had was liver, powdered eggs and potatoes.

But then again, he said it was food.

Aunt Michie and her family were near starving in Hiroshima while dad was imprisoned in the good ol’ US of A.

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IMG_5864
Taken at the Kanemoto home in Hiroshima, 1951 and soon after my parents wed. (L to R) Sadako, Namie, Aunt Michie holding a young Kiyoshi, Grandma Kono, Masako, mom and dad. Courtesy of Kiyoshi Aramaki.

It is assumed like for the rest of America, Dad and his older siblings heard the news of the atomic bombing but while in the camps on or about August 8th… that one enormous bomb had wiped out Hiroshima.  There must have high anxiety and anger as many of the inmates in Dad’s camp (Minidoka) were from Seattle; they had family in Hiroshima as their parents had immigrated from there.

My cousins tell me that sometime after war’s end, Michie’s “American” siblings – my dad, Uncle Yutaka and Aunt Shiz – managed to re-establish contact with Grandmother Kono and Michie.  With the Japanese infrastructure destroyed, it was a miracle.  And it was no easy task as letters to and from Japan were not only prohibited, it was impossible.  There was no telephone in the villages where Grandmother and Michie lived.

But her American siblings somehow managed to send much needed clothing to them.  When my father finally reached Hiroshima while a sergeant in the US 8th Army, he carried two duffle bags full of C-rations, candy and Spam.  They said it was a feast for them after years of hunger.

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Dad in front of his Hiroshima home – April 1948

Sadako (who savored the white rice Michie made them on the day of the bomb) told me at a farewell dinner two years ago that she fondly remembered my dad taking them to a market of some kind where he bought her a little coin purse.  She remembered Dad gave her the money to buy the little purse and was told she could keep the change.  She remembers then handing the change – which was a LOT of money back then – to Michie who humbly accepted it.  Sadako said she cherished that little coin purse for years.

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EPILOGUE

From exhaustive laboring on her farm… to taking precious sashimi to her brother Suetaro… to walking ten miles with children in tow to care for Grandmother Kono after her stroke… to the pain of learning of her brother being killed in action… to being thrown onto the ground and watching a huge mushroom cloud rise over a small hill… to pulling a wooden cart over a hill…  to tirelessly aiding the victims… and most of all, sacrificing her own health for the sake of others…

She never gave up in those thirty years.  Would you have? I don’t believe I would have had the fortitude.

But because her soul would not quit, she got everyone to tomorrow… but in doing so, her own tomorrows dwindled.

Michie is still here.  The fruit of her sacrifices can be seen today in her six children, all of whom have lived – and are still living – full, joyous lives.

Soubetsukai Picture
Four of Michie’s children with my son and I. The four at the left front were at Aunt Michie’s farmhouse after the atomic bomb; Hitoshi was there as a burn victim. Hiroshima – September 8, 2012
Entaijisou Meal
At breakfast – Endaijisou Hot Springs, November 2013.  Tomiko was at home when the atomic bomb went off; the house was destroyed.

They have their mother, Michie, to thank and they cherish that… and that they were all there at the farmhouse when she looked at each one of them intently one last time before leaving this world.

A most grand mother.

And yes…

They all love food to this very day.

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I wish to deeply thank my Hiroshima cousins for sharing their memories of their life with Michie with us.

Like all Hiroshima citizens I have met, they simply pray for peace.

NOTES:

(¹) There are declassified US intelligence documents which show that a small number of Japanese and Japanese-Americans were performing espionage.  Intelligence was able to determine this by intercepting and decoding secret Japanese communications. This information was given a cover name of MAGIC and these documents were typed up for FDR and a very small number of trusted officials.  However, rounding up the spies would clearly indicate to the Japanese that their code had been cracked.  These documents present another view contra to the widespread belief that FDR imprisoned the Japanese and Japanese-Americans from discrimination and war time hysteria.  In other words, FDR used that hysteria as a cover story; by doing so, he was able to remove the “spies” from the West Coast without alerting the Japanese.  FDR also stated in communications that there would be “repercussions” from such action.

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

The Pain of Survival and Aunt Michie – Part 6

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Ebisu-woman
A mother holding her child in Ebisu, a part of Tokyo, and in front of her corrugated tin hut. 1946. National Archives.

Indeed, the difficult struggle for food in enough quantities and quality continued.  Black markets for food flourished, particularly in larger cities.

Housing in the cities, however, was extremely tough.  As an example, after many cities were bombed out, millions flocked to Kyoto.  MacArthur and other Allied military leaders omitted Kyoto as a target for its ancient cultural richness.  Many Japanese had heard of that by war’s end and trekked to Kyoto in hopes of finding a roof over their heads.  Unfortunately, all living spaces were occupied.  No rooms were available, even at a huge premium.

Even in 1948 – three years after war’s end – Tokyo still had tremendous scars as can be seen in one of my father’s photographs below:

image0-11
The trees bear the scars of the firebombing. Tokyo Station is in the background being rebuilt with the aid of the US military. Notice the “jinrikisha” lined up in front; they were the equivalent of taxis today and were pulled or pedaled by Japanese men to make a living. Cars will not be available for about ten more years.  Taken by my father in March 1948 while serving in the US 8th Army under General Eichelberger.

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Soon after the bomb was dropped, the hostilities finally ended.  However, food and essential goods continued to be largely absent.  Amazingly, my cousins who went through that hell choose to reflect on these post-war years positively.  That is, reflecting on it as a miserable time will but cause a wound to fester.  They had seen enough of festering wounds.

But let us step back a year in Aunt Michie’s life.

image0-059
Uncle Suetaro is pictured at the bottom left with his Army buddies. You can see how lean they are due to insufficient nutrition.  August 11. 1943.

One month before the surrender, Grandmother Kono was informed by the remnants of the Japanese military that her son Suetaro was killed on Leyte fighting as an Imperial Japanese soldier.  The date of death was recorded as July 15, 1945.  The Emperor capitulated just one month later.  Of course, we have no record of that communication nor when Grandmother Kono was actually told, but the bomb was dropped just around this time, we believe.

A little more than a year earlier, around March 3, 1944, Suetaro walked to Tomo and Masako’s school.  He wrote a farewell note on a chalkboard at Masako’s elementary school to say good bye as he was off to war.  Masako remembers he had written to be a good girl and that he was sorry he couldn’t say good bye in person.  The family took their last family picture with Suetaro (Part 2); he was flanked by his older sister Michie and Mikizo.

We believe the next day, Aunt Michie went to the train depot to say good bye to Suetaro.  She was very fond of him and “his American citizenship”.  Everyone loved the fun Suetaro and she apparently talked of him often after his death.  But at that farewell, deep down, she knew it would be the last time she would see him.  I wonder how she felt watching the train disappear.

image0-073 retouched
This photo was in Grandmother Kono’s photo album. Flag waving school girls stand on the right.  After talking about it with Kiyoshi, we believe this was the send-off Aunt Michie went to – to see her brother Suetaro go off to war and certain death. Kiyoshi indicates that a professional photographer took these types of photos at the train station and that the pictures would be offered for sale.  1943.

Soldiers rarely came back.  Per tradition, he had left Grandma Kono some of his nail clippings and some of his hair.  That is what is in the family crypt.

For hundreds of thousands, entire bodies would never be found.  This was true for America, England, Australia, Russia or Germany.

But at least part of him remains there in Hiroshima.

The cousins tell me Aunt Michie grieved for days after his departure… and that she was torn apart when she learned of his death.

The bomb would fall just days later.

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According to the family, even shortly after the bedlam caused by the bomb, Aunt Michie continued to care for her stricken mother by walking to her house five miles away when she could.  My dad said the road was “pretty” level but that since it is Japan, there were hills along the way, especially near Ishiuchi, a small village.

Taken by my father in April 1948 in front of the Hiroshima family home. Holding the baby Kiyoshi, who was born in the home, is Aunt Michie then clockwise – Sadako (who savored the white rice), Masataka, Namie (who pulled maggots out with chopsticks), Masako (who was thrown across her classroom by the shockwave, and Grandmother Kono (who did shaves at her Seattle barbershop).

In December 1947, Aunt Michie started to have contractions while walking over such a hill.  She was able to make it to Grandmother Kono’s house where she gave birth to Kiyoshi, right then and there.  No, no doctor…no nurse… and Grandmother Kono could not help due to her stroke.  It is said she was very happy that the birth took place at her childhood home.  She grew up there along with her American siblings.  She had felt safe.

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My cousins believe their mother, Aunt Michie, gave all of herself for her children and her family.  In spite of malnourishment, she toiled in her farm’s fields, cared for Grandmother Kono, gave her all in the bomb’s aftermath, set the example for her children.  She put everyone before her.

But soon after giving birth to Kiyoshi, she developed kidney problems.

They tell me that medical care then was still pretty non-existent so she had no choice but to ride it out.  However, she pushed herself back into working the farm too soon to care for her children, her own stricken mother and other household duties.  That was Aunt Michie.

IMG_6220
An “石じぞう”, or a stone buddha, along a pathway in Hiroshima. ©Koji Kanemoto 2013

Cousin Kiyoshi remembers massaging his mother’s swollen legs after a day’s work.  He also fondly remembers perspiring trying to keep up with Aunt Michie on a hot, humid summer day as they walked up a hill overgrown with thick, green wild grass.  There was a “石じぞう”, or a stone figure representing Buddha, alongside a ridge overlooking a blue Hiroshima Bay.  Kiyoshi will always remember that moment, looking at his mother with perspiration running down her face and the blueness of the bay.

In retrospect, they feel that if Michie had taken some time to rest and more often that she may have regained her health.

On May 29, 1963, she was laying in the same farmhouse in which she nursed the 23 injured people that fateful day.  Her kidneys were giving out.  She opened her eyes one last time and looked lovingly at each of her children who were gathered about her then closed them.  Thirty years after her father gave away her hand in marriage at 19, after 30 years of a life heaped with physical and emotional demands one after another, world changing events and family tragedies…  After enduring the pain of survival, Aunt Michie left this world.  She was but 48.

IMG_3387
In September 2012, I visited Aunt Michie for the first time. Masako is flanked by her daughter Izumi and my son Takeshi. Similar to the hot summer morning when she was knocked down by the shockwave, it was hot and humid that day. Now, I feel it was appropriate.

IMG_3378

Aunt Michie conquered all and gave her life to others so they could get to tomorrow… and she did that with dignity and unconditional love for her children.

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An epilogue will follow for Part 7….

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

The Pain of Survival and Aunt Michie – Part 5

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japansurrender88
A rare photograph taken after listening to the Emperor’s surrender speech, August 15, 1945. There was a coup attempt the night before the speech was broadcast.

Although the violence of World War II was nearing an end, other aspects of the war could continue against Japanese civilians for years to come.

Their infrastructure was gone.  Essential assets such as manufacturing plants, machinery, trains, roads, housing, utilities, even fishing boats had been destroyed.

And most of all, food.

And Aunt Michie’s dignity – the entire family’s dignity – will continue to be tested until the late 1940’s.

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boy genmai mainichi
Dated April 1943. A boy poses holding a stick in a bottle filled with unpolished brown rice. This is not the polished brown rice you eat today at Panda Express. It was more wild. Japanese would insert a stick into a bottle partially filled with brown rice then repeatedly jab at the rice until the husk came off. It was low grade rice with the germ still on. (From the Mainichi Shimbun archives.)

For eons, Japan has been unable to produce enough rice for their people let alone food.  In fact, it was not until about the time Japan hosted the 1964 Olympics that Japan could produce enough rice for themselves.

The war took a terrible toll on regular folks from getting their “rice fix” – they were just not able to eat it.  This deprived them savoring it, the mental and biological satisfaction of just eating it.  Think of it this way – what if not just bread itself was kept from you but also the sweet smell of the freshly baked bread with the perfect crust..with melting butter?  Talk about attacks on your psyche: deprivation.  Deprivation for years.  Prolonged sensual deprivation makes for huge changes in one’s outlook on life.

Like the photo of the little boy, millions of civilians would acquire a wild form of brown rice (玄米 genmai) and de-husk them as shown.  Along with barley, it served as a substitute for the flavorful white rice with the higher calories.

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Confronted by not only the absence of medical supplies, Aunt Michie’s house was now filled with 23 men, women and children with varying degrees of burns.  I doubt emergency rooms could handle such a sudden load of burn victims… but Michie’s family did.  On top of that, her house was damaged by the atomic bomb’s shockwave.  It pains me to even see in my mind what they had to do to make the house habitable enough so quickly to nurse the injured.

It was mayhem and Michie personally did not ask for this horrific situation… but now, on top of trying to provide medical care for 23 people, she was confronted with one ominous problem: how to feed them all.  There was no food left in the city of Hiroshima and it was just over the hill.  And any food left in the village of Tomo was fresh.  It would spoil quickly anyways in the heat as there was no refrigeration.  No supermarket.  No canned goods either.

She did as Aunt Michie only could.  She used her precious reserve of rice and only served it to the ailing victims.  I am sure she believed that would be the only way to truly help them survive as all of them were malnourished.  As a result of rationing the remaining rice to the victims, her own children who weren’t physically injured were delegated to survive on cooked pumpkins, stems, stalks or taro roots for the duration.

A huge, gut wrenching decision for Aunt Michie, I’m sure.

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Some of the wild grass or other vegetation boiled for emergency eating can be seen behind my father and Uncle Suetaro. Hiroshima, circa 1929. Copyright Koji Kanemoto

To help this dire situation, the Hiroshima aunt who was not badly injured went about the area with Mikizo’s parents scavenging for wild grass and other vegetation to boil.  That, too, became part of their food.  Although likely not very nutritious to say the least, there was no other alternative.  And it is important to note such wild vegetation they boiled or ate had been subjected to the black rain…

What do you have in your yard?

Perhaps you can somewhat understand why my cousin Masako thought Spam was the most delicious thing she ever ate.

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In spite of all Aunt Michie could do, my cousins tell me some of the burn victims’ injuries wouldn’t heal.  They had worsened.  Their wounds began to fester or decay for lack of a better description.  Pus formed.  There was nothing they could do.

The odor of the decaying flesh permeated out of the house.  They say you could smell it from the dirt road immediately outside.

It became so intense that people would hold their noses to scurry past the house.

None of my cousins who were there tell me they will ever forget that vulgar smell of rotting flesh… or death.  Never.

Just like Old Man Jack.

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From Aunt Michie clockwise: Aunt Michie (holding Kiyoshi), Namie, Mikizo’s father, Masataka, Sadako, Masako, Mikizo and Mikizo’s mother. Taken in 1948 at their farmhouse where they cared for 23 victims. Courtesy of Kiyoshi Aramaki.

My cousins tell me some didn’t make it.

Others would pass away in the next couple of years from the effects of their injuries or radiation.

Nevertheless, the struggle for food and other essentials would continue…but my Aunt Michie’s immediate family survived.  Even Tomiko who was in Hiroshima proper.

And Aunt Michie’s dignity and strength reigned supreme.

They all made it to tomorrow.

__________________________

The surrender documents were signed by Emperor Hirohito’s representatives aboard the USS Missouri on September 2, 1945.

Unbelievably, Mikizo also survived the war.  Although taken prisoner upon Japan’s surrender as a soldier in the Imperial Japanese Army, he was released from Manchuria and allowed to return to his Hiroshima farm in late 1946.

To be continued in Part 6….

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

The Pain of Survival and Aunt Michie – Part 4

26 Comments

You can hardly tell this is a young girl anymore. As Masako and Mr. Tsukamoto told me, they were walking dead. Flesh literally melted off their bodies and dangled. Grotesque forms which were once human beings.

The aftermath of the bombing was no different from hell.  Not that I’ve seen hell nor that I would want to…

But Aunt Michie and my very young cousins saw it.

They visited hell.

_____________________________

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Atomic bomb survivors. Perhaps this is what Aunt Michie and her cousins saw in their search for relatives on the other side of the hill. If you notice the flask the young girl is holding to her lips.  It was likely filled with radioactive water.

Nearly all doctors and nurses within the city had been killed or seriously wounded on August 6, 1945.  If they survived the blast, they were likely to fall ill from radiation poisoning and they themselves would die within days.  All remaining medical supplies – which had been nearly non-existent due to the war – had been destroyed as well.  Most food – even unpicked fruits or vegetables – were contaminated with radiation as was water(¹).  Thousands of corpses plugged the rivers as they would go in to soothe their burns but would soon perish.

It is important to note that food rationing in Japan was much more extreme than what was imposed on the American public.  While the rationing in America began in May 1942, it started with just coffee and sugar.  In Japan, rationing of a far more extensive reach began in 1939 if not earlier.  It extended to nearly all first quality food stuffs.  Rice, barley, seafood, meat, soy bean paste and soy sauce, vegetables, fruit, seafood, etc.  Groups called “tonari-gumi” were established in villages and the like; they monitored and rationed food to the Japanese families based on what work they were doing, e.g., war production, number of family members along with their age and sex.  The rationing was so severe that when one family member died, the family did not report it.  The average caloric daily intake was cut down to less than 2,000 a day by 1945.

homeless_orphan_in_postwar_tokyo
Homeless orphan in Tokyo. He would have to be determined if he was to survive.

The Japanese civilians were starving, so to speak, and were without question malnourished.

Aunt Michie was no different.  She was hungry like everyone else and likely tired easily due to low nutritional intake and daily physical and emotional demands upon her.  It is important to have an understanding of her condition at this crucial moment in history.

________________________________

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Sadako – taken in early 1948 by my father while on furlough. She would marry a distant cousin (common cultural practice at that time) who was also badly burned in the atomic explosion.  She is wearing clothing my father bought for her at the Tokyo PX.

After the shock and black rain subsided, Aunt Michie’s thoughts immediately went to her treasured family.  According to my cousins, she went into her priceless family rice reserves and cooked real rice for the children.  Sadako, the second oldest, remembers to this day how she savored that bowl of rice, a definite luxury at that time.  While but a child of ten years and filled with anxiety about eating such a fine meal, she saw at that moment her mother’s love and affection for them was unconditional.

Aunt Michie’s thoughts went to the Aramaki family (aunt and uncle’s family) who lived in Hiroshima.  She had no way of knowing that day but they had become direct victims of the atomic bombing.  They had been burned over most of their bodies and had even been trapped under their destroyed house.  They managed to struggle with their searing injuries to Aunt Michie’s house to seek refuge and care.  They had realized that only strong family support would allow them to live.

Grotesquely, the path going over the 300 meter high hill which the relatives traveled became littered with scores of dead people.  Masako said they were unrecognizable lumps of flesh and died where they crumpled.  Many had their clothes burned away.  While thousands were killed instantly, other thousands suffered for days before dying from intense burns, radioactive poisoning and other injuries.  As radiation poisoning was unheard of amongst them, some were told they had dysentery and the like.  Many before dying oozed pus from their ears and blood ran from their noses.  You will not read this in any Western textbook.  In fact, the gruesome information about the days, months and years after August 6th was suppressed for a couple of decades by both governments.

While the dazed and immensely pained adults struggled to Michie’s farm, there were young children of the family unaccounted for(²).  Without hesitation and unbelievably, Aunt Michie – in her weakened state – pulled a two wheel cart over the hill to Hiroshima to look for them.

Over a hill.

大八車
I believe this to be the type of cart Aunt Michie pulled to Hiroshima to look for the unaccounted for children of the family. Kiyoshi called it a 大八車, or large two wheeled wooden cart.

Miraculously and while the details are lost, she found some of them and hauled them back to the farm on the cart, now laden with the additional weight of the children…  on the same road that was further littered with dead and dying people.  Think of the mental anguish Michie had to endure when dying people came up to her and asked for her help…  It would be difficult to not look at them.  It was more difficult to ignore them, I’m sure.

According to my cousins, a total of 23 people got refuge and care at Aunt Michie’s farm.  I understand many were relatives from the Aramaki side of the family.

There were more hurdles for Michie and her children immediately ahead – caring for the injured and dying.

_____________________________

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You can tell which way this woman was facing when the bomb went off. Her left side is burned. Photo was likely taken after August 6, 1945.
Caring for Victim of Hiroshima Bombing
A mother looks after her child. This photo was also likely taken after August 6, 1945.
Victim of Hiroshima Bombing
An elderly woman lies dying on the floor covered with flies. Perhaps this is just one of the sickening sights Michie and her children have buried in their conscious.

The preceding photographs may show what Michie and the children were faced with.  And the children were just that – children.

How old are your children, by the way?

The older cousins recall that they, Michie, Mikizo’s parents and the less injured relatives took on a 24 hour a day field hospital of sorts to treat the injured.  It was stifling hot and humid; yet, they had to be given constant attention and there were so many of them.  I cannot imagine how exhausting this task could have been, especially when you are hungry and malnourished yourself.

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Taken sometime after August 6, 1945. The side of her you see is what had faced the atomic explosion. The patterns are from her clothing she wore that day. It was where the dark patterns of her clothing had been in contact with her skin. Masako recalls vividly this type of pattern among the burn victims and that the maggots followed that pattern.

The common injury were burns.  Severe burns…and they had no medicine whatsoever.(³)  No Bactine.  No Motrin.  No aloe.  All Michie could do was to coat the burns with a type of cooking oil and bandage them with pieces of cloth.  She must have endured unlimited anguish in knowing she could not measurably lessen their pain and suffering.  There must have been constant crying and unbearable moans of pain.

And on their hands, blood from human beings.

3-namie1
Namie – taken in early 1948 by my father while on furlough.

Six year old Namie could never forget what she had to do.  Flies were swarming having sensed dying flesh.  Namie was tasked with shooing them away with a fan but they wouldn’t stay away.  And worse yet – time and time again, she had to remove the maggots that were feeding on dead flesh…with chopsticks.  I do not know if I could have done that…but Namie did.

The turmoil that must have stormed inside Aunt Michie to tell her daughters to do what they had to do for the sake of survival…and then to be stern with them and tell them to continue when they wavered or cried…  must have been punishing to her as a loving mother.  She must have wanted to cry.

Aunt Michie was the point woman.

And she fulfilled that role.

Her goal was to get everyone to tomorrow.

_____________________________

To be continued in Part 5….

Notes:

(1) Per my 2012 meeting with Mr. Tsukamoto in Hiroshima, water is the main theme of the Cenotaph at the Peace Park.  Survivors clamored for water.  Where there was well water, many survivors were suffocated as dozens more pressed against them for the precious liquid.  Please see “A 1937 Yearbook, the Atomic Bomb and Hiroshima” for further information and links to their personal story.

(2) The number of unaccounted for children is unclear.

(3) Mr. Tsukamoto recounted how they had to constantly mash yams and place them over their burns to temporarily lessen the pain.  They did that for over a month, he says.

America, Army, 第二次世界大戦, Japan, Marines, Military, World War II

A Father-ly Invasion

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Imagine being a Marine. You’re in Afghanistan.  You see your buddies getting blown up by the cowardly enemy’s IED or killed after an ambush. Then, after a bitter, maniacal all-out war, their religious leader capitulates.

Now, suddenly, you are standing out in the desert, outside of Fallujah, waiting to go in as part of the “occupying force”. Your feelings and emotions are going amok – anger coupled with fear of the unknown… You will be surrounded by the enemy who also fought the exact same bitter war against you.

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US 26th Marines marching into Sasebo, Japan – August 1945. Notice the Japanese standing to the left and the general absence of civilians.

Now… imagine you are a young Marine on a troop ship off the Japanese coast. It is August 30, 1945. A few weeks earlier, you became acquainted with the term atomic bomb. The Emperor of Japan just capitulated.

You are to go ashore onto the Japanese homeland.  But in this case, you are not wading ashore to occupy a city. You are wading ashore to occupy an entire country.

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As we now know, the initial “invasion” of Japan by Allied forces ended up being entirely peaceful; no one was killed. Perhaps there was a small incident or two, but I have not read anything to indicate a single shot was fired. How could that be? How could hundreds of thousands of Marines, soldiers and sailors have stormed ashore – under an assault mindset – onto a homeland populated with maniacal military and millions of civilians – and not erupt in combat?

army report 98th

Per a report of the US Army’s 98th Infantry Division dated December 20, 1945:

“The mission assigned the Division was participation in the occupation of Japan; however, due to uncertainty as to the attitude of the people, the real intentions of the Japanese army, and the possibility of treachery or sabotage, the Division was directed to be combat loaded and prepared for any eventuality. Thus planning for the occupation of Japan was based upon an assault landing rather than an administrative movement…”

(Click here to see actual report.)

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There is no single answer. The peaceful invasion was the result of hundreds of contributing influences.

One came from Father Patrick Byrne, a Catholic priest in a country dominated by Buddhism.

patrick byrne
Father Patrick Byrne. He was elevated to Bishop prior to his death.

Father Byrne had been sent to Kyoto in 1935 to set up a mission. As he was respectful of the peoples, he was put under house arrest (confinement) when war broke out. Of course, it was very harsh. His only companions were a cat and a parrot. Food was poor and scarce, just like it was for the unfortunate civilians.

Per “Escape from Manchuria” by Paul K. Maruyama (USAF, Ret.), he emphasizes the importance of the role fulfilled by Father Byrne immediately after the Emperor broadcast his surrender. Although in very poor health, Father Byrne with the aid of a newspaper reporter and a Father Furuya, hurriedly put together a radio broadcast intended for TWO audiences: (1) one for the Japanese homeland and (2) one for the “invading” Allied forces.

As hordes of civilians were escaping to the countryside, getting from Kyoto to Tokyo in the few available trains was hard but after 15 hours, he made it being escorted by police. He then recorded his speech on or about August 20, 1945, which was re-broadcast many times via radio and shortwave…to the Japanese people and to the countless number of Allied occupying forces staging off-shore.

His radio broadcast:

“The war is over. What can I say first of all to the Japanese people whom I have loved and who love me as a brother for more than 10 years? I share their grief when the Emperor spoke to them and told them that they had fought a good fight but now he wanted them to give up the war and turn to peace. I, an American, speak to you Japanese in the name of those soldiers about to enter your land to assure you that you need to have no fear. They are not coming to the shores as invaders, with tanks, bayonets and bullets, but merely as representatives of their country, taking occupation of Japan to help you once more to reconstruct and build on the new foundation of democracy. The eyes of the world are on this occupying army. You may rest assured they come peaceably.

What can I say to you, the soldiers of my native land, regarding these people? Their feelings will naturally be mixed with emotions as you look up on the victors entering their land, where the homes have been destroyed or burned, their sons and fathers of families killed or maimed and wounded. It is only natural that you look with anger, fear, mistrust, and frustration at your arrival. Should you add to their present feelings by any any ruthless attacks upon the women and young people in this land, I am afraid of what the consequences might be. So I urge you to cooperate with me as I assure the Japanese people that you will commit no degradations, that you would have goodwill and charity in trying to realize what these people, the real victims of the war, have suffered and will not do anything to add to the pain they endure.

You are on trial before the eyes of the world. Any violence or immorality, any unjust or criminal act on your part will not only be a stain on your character but on that the nation you represent.

I believe I may assure you people of Japan that the army chaplains would do everything they can to remind our soldiers of their moral responsibility. The Military Police, too, will carefully protect your interests and will arrest anyone found violating the law. If there seems to be any violation of this protection which is your due, I have been assured by the Archbishop of Tokyo that he will appeal to the Holy Father in Rome who in turn will make known to the whole world by radio and the press any form of injustice. Freedom of the press in the United States will cooperate so that such news will not be suppressed.

I am not afraid because I know these Americans and trust them, but I can understand the fears of the Japanese people. Soldiers coming into Japan, I strongly urge you to come with kind hearts and be good friends of these people. You have fought hard and want a victory. I know you want to enjoy it and want to be proud of it, but please try to understand the distress of the Japanese and make your behavior calm and warm as representatives of a great nation. Perhaps after two or three months, they will begin to understand you better, and then I think there will come an intimate friendship between you and them.”

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The Allied Forces – with the words of Father Bryne questioned in many soldiers’ minds as to intent – stormed ashore on August 30, 1945 on many beaches all around Japan. Once ashore, they were largely astonished to learn over the next few hours the truth in Father Byrne’s words.

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A Marine walks past young Japanese women on a routine patrol.  Thousands of vials of poison were distributed to thousands of young girls in preparation for the “invasion”. (USMC Photo)

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According to “Escape from Manchuria”, Father Byrne made a recovery back in the United States after the war and was elevated to Bishop when he was sent to Korea in 1947. In 1950, he was captured by the North Koreans and once again was subjected to horrifying treatment and captivity before being put on the Korean War equivalent of the Bataan Death March.

He fell ill during the march in freezing conditions and when he could not continue, he was taken to a shack. There, on a frozen floor and without any warmth, he passed away on November 20, 1950 at a place called Ha Chang Ri, North Korea.

(Note: Edited Feb. 2, 2014.  For some reason, the photo of Father Patrick Bryne had been removed.)

Army, Atomic Bomb, Children, 第二次世界大戦, History, Japan, Marines, Military, Navy, Nisei, World War II, World War II

“Dear Courageous Sailor” – a Letter from 1943

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Marines82large
Marines escort Saipan civilians. It was estimated that 22,000 civilians died, most by suicide. It was traumatic for our young Marines to witness, too.

There is personal pain in a full-fledged war that only those who were fully involved can feel.  Those feelings will differ by how that person was involved.

We somewhat understand through survivors that a soldier, airman, sailor or Marine near or on the front lines will have an intimate kinship with instantaneous fear.  They know combat is immediate, unfair, cruel, and barbaric.  But hopefully, they know their families and country are behind them – perhaps giving them the edge to overcome their fears and survive.

And this is true for the enemy as well.  As I become more knowledgeable on the Pacific Theater during WWII, I have learned the young Japanese combatants had the same fears (please see “There’s No Toilet Paper in the Jungle of Burma“).  But unlike the Allied forces who had millions of tons of war materiel, food and medical care backing them, the Japanese military fell way short.

But what about the Japanese home front?  Have you paused to ponder that?  Were their countrymen any different from us in their ways of supporting their young men dying by the hundreds of thousands?

I never did myself until recently.

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I met Rob on the internet through his facebook page, “WWII U.S. Capture Photos“.  He focuses on the spoils of war, bringing back to the forefront the war souvenirs seized by military personnel.

He acquired a letter from a now elderly Marine who was fighting on Saipan in mid-1944. He had told Rob that he removed it from a Japanese corpse.

japaneselet2
The now tattered envelope is anonymously addressed to”海軍の勇士様” or “Dear Courageous Sailor”.

Apparently, this letter had ended up to haunt the Marine who was at time very young and fighting for his life on Saipan.  The once young Marine is pictured in the center of this photo:

Marine Saipan
The young Marine who seized this letter is pictured in the middle. For an original image, please click on the picture.

Rob asked if my father could read the letter and translate it.

The letter was haunting Rob, too.

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My friend and I went to see Dad in October 2013.  Below, Dad is reading the letter taken by the then young Marine from Saipan in 1944.

IMG_1032

The backside of the envelope is below showing the sender’s name and return address.  The image was enhanced to bring out the writing.  The Marine had written “Japanese letter picked up on Saipan”.

The letter was anonymously addressed and sent by a young girl named “Kazuko Arai (荒井和子)”.  The return address shows she was a student of a girl’s economics school in Tokyo, Nakano City, town of Honcho (東京都中野区本町通六丁目女子経済専門学校 – 附属高女).  While I believe the school may have been at least damaged by the fire bombings, I may have located the successor school. It is called “Nitobe Bunka Gakuen” with its current address as 東京都中野区本町6-38-1.  (While I did send a blind email of inquiry to them in my far from perfect Japanese, there has been no response.  I doubt that there will be given the Japanese culture.)

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While the scans were of low resolution, the two pages of the letter are as follows:

japaneselet3
japaneselet4

Because my father  will be 95 next month, it was difficult to keep him on course.  In spite of reminding him to just read the letter in Japanese (I would understand most of it), he continually tried to translate its sentences into English.  Perhaps somewhere in his buried conscious, he is doing as he was trained by the US Army’s Military Intelligence Service.  Admittedly, there were about a half-dozen characters that were just tough to make out due to creases and lack of clarity.  And he wasn’t able to figure out one paragraph in particular…but I did!  Got one on my old man.

I also sought out help from my good Hiroshima cousin, Kiyoshi, and he filled in the blanks.

Kazuko wrote:

夏も過ぎさり戰局は日一日と厳しく今こそ物心はおらか私どもう総べてを国家に捧げつくすべきと秋となりました。
As summer passes and turns into autumn, the war situation is getting more severe and now we must physically and mentally dedicate ourselves for our country.

海上での勇士様にはお変わりなく軍務に御精勵（励）の事を存じます。
As a courageous sailor out at sea, I know your unwavering fighting spirit continues.

大東亜の全戦線に於いては、今や彼我の攻防戦は、まことに熾烈極めて居るという事等、すでに日々の報道により私共の耳に刻々傳えられてをります。
Per our (radio) broadcasts, we hear that the intensity of battle and such has increased for both sides at all the front lines in the Far East Asia theater of war.

山崎保代部陽長以下二千名ついに全員北海の島に於いて玉砕したこの事をラジオが私達に傳へるや私達は唯聲をのみ頭をたれるばかりでした。
A radio broadcast announced that Lt. General Yasuyo Yamasaki and 2,000 of his  garrison died honorably defending an island in the North Sea.  All we could do was bow our heads (in honor) and swallow our  grief (voices).

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

[ NOTE: In researching this report, I discovered that Lt. General Yamasaki was assigned to defend the island of Attu.  He was killed with his remaining garrison in a banzai charge on May 29, 1943.  Please click on the following for more information:
My cousin Kiyoshi also found an extensive accounting of the Battle of Attu in Japanese with English translations for those who are interested.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

(Letter continues)

今私達は本当に容易ならぬ戰争の只中におかれている事を強く感じました。
Now, with the daily war situation, we strongly feel as if we are in the midst of the battle and realize (winning) will not be easy.

学校ではもうじき秋の軍動會が開かれますので一生懸命身体をきたへてをります。
Soon, it will be time for the autumn (military) athletic meet; I will train hard to strengthen my physique.

断じて米英女性には贁けない覧唔です。
We resolve to not lose against the American and English women.

ではどうぞう勇士様くれぐれ御身体御大事に大切にお国の為しっかり戰って下さい。御武軍を祈り致します。
So please, courageous sailor, sincerely take good care of yourself and fight hard.  I pray for your fighting spirit.

さよなら
Good bye.

_____________________

So now we realize that Japan also had a “home front”.

Perhaps they did not have a “Rosie the Riveter” like we did.

But the Japanese homeland did endure pain, fear and sorrow as we did…and depression.  They were not the inhuman creatures depicted on war posters and in propaganda of that time.  And thanks to Rob and the young Marine, we see a letter written in Tokyo by a high school girl named Kazuko Arai in the autumn of 1943 and simply addressed to an anonymous sailor.  Kiyoshi also believes that the watermarked stationery was of high quality and issued out of military stock for this purpose.

Sadly, we do not know the name of the sailor from whose corpse the letter was removed from, nor do we know if Ms. Arai survived the war and raised a family.

showa8
Picture taken at Kazuko’s school pre-war.

Things like this sort aren’t evident in our (current) history textbooks.  Now, WWII has pretty much been erased from school textbooks altogether, replaced by “politically correct” topics…that there was simply a war between Japan and America.  A disgrace to those who endured or died.

In closing, there is a diary written by a young Japanese doctor up to the time of the final banzai charge on Attu.  He was one of the attackers who was killed.  As mentioned in my other posts about the Military Intelligence Service, Japanese military forces were allowed to write diaries.  When these diaries were taken from the battlefield, the Japanese-Americans (Nisei) soldiers were able to read then extract valuable intel on the enemy – both for their battle front and their homeland.  In his last entry, the young doctor writes a goodbye to his wife and two small children back home.

Young Japanese doctor’s war diary

America, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Hiroshima, Japan, Nisei

Eighty Years Later…

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Image

Eighty years or so after he posed for a photo, my Grandfather Hisakichi is in an American book.

Standing “Marine-esque” in his Seattle barbershop.

Incredible to me.

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I had come to know Rob Ketcherside from flickr.  We had helped each other out looking at some old photos he had of Seattle – where all my aunts and uncles were born (except one).  He had some fascinating tidbits on some of my Grandmother’s photos.

Well, it turned out he was an author.  He had been doing a ton of research into “lost Seattle” – skylines and communities now long gone.  With his fascination for “what was” (me, too!), those sights are now basking in sunlight once again through this mesmerizing book.

It was boosting to me when he asked if he could use one of the family’s vintage photos in his book; specifically, the photo of my grandfather’s barbershop.  It is on loan to me from my cousin Masako (yes, the Masako after whom my blog is named) who luckily kept these family treasures all these years.  It is more wonderful in that the home in which the photos were in survived the atomic blast – as did my family.

I hope Rob (and his publisher) don’t mind a couple of pages of his book are shown herein…and I’ll be picking up a few more copies to take back to Hiroshima in a few weeks.

In the description below, Rob also mentions Masahiro Furuya and his business.  As it turns out, both my dad’s oldest brother Yutaka and his best friend John Tanaka worked for Furuya…  And yes, that is the same John Tanaka my Aunt Shiz married.  Small world, yes?  Actually, Uncle Yutaka was the matchmaker.

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A close up of his photo caption from above:

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Grandfather is standing at the right-rear of his barbershop.  And the photo is a full pager in Rob’s book!  Cool!  Grandfather should be pleased.  In the original print, you can see the brand names of the hair tonics popular at that time.  The gal in the middle was quite a cutie, too.   I wonder what happened to her.  If she was still there in Seattle when war broke out, it is likely she went to the same prison camp my dad and uncle were incarcerated in.

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On an interesting note, the consensus is the calendar shows January 9, 1930.

In concert with Rob’s massive research effort, gone is my father’s precious Hotel Fujii and my grandfather’s pride and joy barber shop.  It was demolished to make room for “Hing Hay Park” taking its place.

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Front of Barbershop
Grandfather Hisakichi holding Aunt Shiz in front of the barbershop. Circa 1918.
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Dad on right with his youngest brother Suetaro in front of the barbershop (circa 1922).  They are likely standing where the label “Hing Hay Park” is on the map above. As readers know, Uncle Suetaro was killed as a Japanese soldier by the US Army on Leyte on July 15, 1945.  Dad was imprisoned in Minidoka, ID at the time of his death.

Eighty years later.

My gosh.

And like the barbershop and Hotel Fujii, my dad is the last one standing out of seven siblings and two courageous grandparents.

Thanks, Masako-san and Rob.

I kinda wish my grandparents could have seen this.

Army, 第二次世界大戦, Family, Military, Nisei, World War II

Sands of Manzanar

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What remains of the cemetery out in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn’t the deadly black sand that greeted the US Marines on Iwo Jima.

But as we stood on out on the desert, white powdery dust would swirl up in the softly blowing arid wind…  and I then realized it was upon this gawd-awful sand that my Aunt Shiz and Uncle John built their future for their family.

It was their Iwo Jima…  It was called the “Manzanar War Relocation Center” by our government back during World War II.

They were forced onto these forsaken sands by FDR in April of 1942 but made the most of it.  Quietly.  仕方が無い…  我慢.  Shikataganai and gaman.

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FDR called it relocation centers.

It’s just my opinion but political correctness be damned.

It was a prison.  Complete with eight guard towers and soldiers manning .30 caliber Browning machine guns.  Barbed wire fencing all around.  No freedoms.  Chow at specific times.  Public toilets and showers.  No running water in your “cell”.  No cars.  No soda jerks.  You were classified as “Enemy Alien” even though you said your Pledge of Allegiance or were a Boy Scout.

There were ten well known ones like Manzanar.  But quite a number of smaller or special purpose prisons were scattered about the US – some of which have been long forgotten.  But one thing in common was they held Americans incarcerated just because they looked Japanese.  Not one was ever convicted of spying for Japan.

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Pictured: Aunt Shiz and my four cousins.  There was no notation other than the date but if I were to take a wild guess, this may have been taken as they left Manzanar the second prison they were moved to: Tule Lake. I base it upon the barrenness of the area surrounding them. (Edit 9/27/2013)

I had never been to Manzanar.  However, since Aunt Shiz passed away at the age of 95 last year at this time, I heard a call to visit.  So my friend and I decided to make the 500 mile+ round trip the Friday before Labor Day weekend.  It was time to go.

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Manzanar back in 1942 was an isolated, desolate desert wilderness.  Hell, it still is for the most part.  The 2010 Census only reported about 2,000 residents; imagine how uninhabited it may have been seventy years ago.  Temperatures soar to over 110F in the summer and plummet to the 20’s in the winter.  It was exactly 100F and humid when we arrived that Friday.  It lies between Lone Pine and Independence on US 395.

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The lonely Lone Pine train station, perhaps the 1930’s?

If you haven’t heard of these prison camps during WWII, FDR signed Executive Order 9066 (There’s those danged Executive Orders again!) ordering Japanese (Issei) and Japanese-Americans (Nisei) to evacuate from the West Coast of the United States.  The FBI and the US Army were there to ensure they left.  These families could only take what they could carry with many everyday items prohibited.  Knives, guns, tools…and cameras because they were looked upon as the enemy.

Many family heirloom photos and letters were burned or tossed.  Favorite dolls.  Bicycles.  Silverware.  Dishes.  All gone.

Here are some official US Government photos (except for my color one) from that period; please note many of these were taken by the Government and were meant to appease the public:

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American workers putting together the shoddily built barracks. They only had tar paper on the outside to keep out the elements. Big gaps existed between the boards – walls or floor boards.
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My two littlest kids and a friend stand in front of an actual barrack from a WWII prison camp. Notice the tar paper remnants and the gaps between the wooden planks. Families actually were forced to live in these shacks.
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Japanese Americans were loaded onto buses or railroad cars under armed guard to be transported to the prison camps. This April 1942 photo was taken in “Little Tokyo”, an area in Downtown, Los Angeles.
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Japanese-Americans disembark from the railroad cars at Lone Pine, CA and are now waiting for buses to take them to their new “homes” at Manzanar. My aunt’s family may just be in the photograph.
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Boarding buses headed to Manzanar under guard.  The US Army soldier should be concerned someone would grab his holstered .45 ACP.  After all, he was amongst the “enemy” as FDR determined.
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A new family brings in their worldly belongings into Manzanar. Notice the dust being blown up around them. Both Aunt Shiz and my dad talked about how everything in their assigned barracks would be covered with dust…down to their Army issue mattresses and sheets. Imagine that for days on end.
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Arrivees at Manzanar. Note the ID tag on the evacuee at left. Everyone got one…even babies.
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Mess Hall chow line. You ate here whether or not it was freezing or scorching outside.

As general information, a relative said the latrines were so cramped that you almost touched each other while sitting on the toilet and that there weren’t any stalls.  Just holes when the first arrivees showed up or after toilets were finally installed a little later.  It was hot and stuffy inside with the stench and flies unbearable.  They had to wait in line to use the latrines, take a shower or eat.

During the war, Manzanar internee Pfc Sadao Munemori – through his brave actions on the battlefield – was bestowed the Congressional Medal of Honor…posthumously.  (Twenty-one Japanese-American soldiers were bestowed the Medal of Honor.)

Interestingly, two-thirds of the Japanese Americans interned at Manzanar were under the age of 18 per the National Park Service.   There were 541 babies born at Manzanar; my cousin Roy was one of them.  (Another cousin, Neil, was born in Tule Lake, CA while his older brother Bobby perished at another camp at six years of age.)

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It is still difficult to believe all of my stateside relatives of that time – all American citizens – were subjected to the degrading treatment depicted above.  But I think my Aunt Shiz had the toughest experience raising four children – with one born in camp.

As we walked through the museum, I perspired profusely even though it had a cooling system.  While my friend was intently reading a number of exhibits, I tried to occupy my mind with other thoughts; I still didn’t know how I would react to being here.

Then, I saw several faces in photographs lining a hallway honoring Toyo Miyatake.  I had often seen them in my youth walking about Little Tokyo or at the temple (I am Buddhist.).  The familiar faces somehow made me “feel at home” or secure in a way.

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Standing is Hisao Kimura, the father of my good friend Sadao. They founded Kimura Photomart where I worked in Little Tokyo. Toyo Miyatake (seated at left) frequently came to Kimura Photomart to sit on a stool after retiring. Toyo’s son, Archie, is on his right. Please click on this link to learn more of the Miyatake heritage and connection to my family. Toyo Miyatake

Here are some other snapshots taken during the visit:

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My friend intently read the information on the exhibits during our brief visit. I feel she learned “stuff” that is not in our textbooks.  I was happy she took interest.
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At the very bottom left of the camp model, you will see a “greener” area. It housed the US Military as well as administrative staff. These barracks were more thoroughly constructed with running water and toilets.
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This is one bit of information that can be drawn up to the CPU. However, I am at a loss when it shows that Aunt Shiz was moved to Tule Lake.
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My friend appears to have a solemn look on her face while looking at the prison camp’s layout.  Over 11,000 men, women, children and babies were made prisoners and incarcerated at Manzanar – all civilians.
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Our good friend Toyo Miyatake, who had illegally snuck in a lens, fashioned a self-made camera around it to take historical pictures from inside the camp. However, photography had been forbidden. For a more complete history on Toyo Miyatake, please click on this link: Toyo’s Camera.
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A recreated barrack stands alone on the desert sand beneath spectacular clouds.  These recreations were MUCH better made than the original barracks as the National Park Service had to build these to Code.  They even had fire alarms and exit signs. 🙂
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Inside of one of the re-created barracks. According to the National Park Service website, “Any combination of eight individuals was allotted a 20-by-25-foot room. An oil stove, a single hanging light bulb, cots, blankets, and mattresses filled with straw were the only furnishings provided.”
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The backside of the memorial at the Manzanar cemetery. I would not have appreciated being buried in such a desert to be forgotten. On the other hand, many of those killed in action were never found as well.
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The slightly humid desert wind blows through my friend’s hair as we stand by the memorial erected in 1943 marking the cemetery.

Lastly, a recreation of a tag each individual had clipped on his/her person to be incarcerated.  While the Nazis tatoo’d ID numbers INTO the flesh of Jews, this tag served essentially the same purpose.  This one reflects Toyo Miyatake:

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We walked on the same sand that Aunt Shiz, Uncle John, Hiroshi, Bessie, Shozo and Roy walked on for 3-1/2 years.  We experienced the heat, although it was but 100F when we arrived there and partly cloudy.  The dust that got kicked up by the warm gusts did swirl around a bit as Aunt Shiz described.  My Subaru Outback was coated with that fine dust.  It was almost like the powder law enforcement uses to bring out latent fingerprints.  And perhaps it is TMI, but I did step inside a modern “port-a-potty” set up out in the desert.  Believe me…  it was hot and stuffy in there.  That will suffice.  But I think that they all endured that for all those years…  Unbelievable.

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As we drove home, my friend asked me how I felt.  I had mentioned to her I might shed a tear or two (from the dust, of course, as real men don’t cry) before we went.  After pondering her question, I answered, “Elated.”

Bizarre answer?  Perhaps.  But I was elated I got to slightly experience what they all did 70 years ago.  No, I did not have to sleep on straw mattresses in stifling cramped rooms nor eat prison-grade quality food at the beginning of incarceration.  Nor line up for chow or to take a shower… Nor have to fear .30 caliber Browning machine guns pointed at me…

But I did finally see that my aunt and uncle built their future upon what they had lost – and what they learned to be important for family – on these white sands of Manzanar.