Nigel Cawthorne
Page 21
The battalion commander Lieutenant Nakanishi gathered together his officers to tell them that, during the night or at daybreak on 3 or 4 April, they were to take over a strongpoint that ‘the enemy had been guarding diligently’.
3 April: It took us one hour and a half to reach this point. Soon our shells will be dropping on the enemy’s position which has the benefit of natural protection. At 8 and 12 o’clock there was a terrific salvo from our artillery and the airforce was dropping their bombs on the enemy’s position. Black smoke covered the enemy bases. The order to attack came at last. We faced the enemy as soon as we went down a valley and crossed a stream. We went forward and thrust into a hill which was the enemy base and took possession of their front line. The enemy snipers were very accurate and we had many casualties. We lost Top-Private Yano, Private Yamado, Private Kodama, Private Iida and Iwama, Tahara, Kato, Kinoshita, Yoshida – all of them injured.
4 April: The battlefield at night is as bright as day. It is strange that Yano is not around any more. He used to talk to me and like to stay near me. Now he is dead and I can no longer hear his voice. There is no sound of the bugler or other familiar sounds when the night was broken by day. We just fight, we front-line attackers, and go after the enemy when and wherever we see them.
5 April: Again pursuit. We went up a mountain where there was no path. But soon we found a splendid road and advanced. We went after the enemy and took a base, but we did not know what was to come the next day. We were trapped!
6 April: At seven o’clock the enemy began to attack. We are surrounded by the enemy. It is a hard fight. Our first squad is dying one by one. Fifty men in all are at the mercy of the enemy. If 1 Battalion had not come to our rescue, our company would have been wiped out. On this occasion we lost Tanaka, Sadavo, Kawabata, Kuniwo, Ogawa, Hirano and five men were injured. Under enemy fire 3 Company replaced our force.
7 April: We had joined 6 Company which was guarding the road on the morning of 5 April. We then followed 1 Battalion on the front line facing the enemy. We had pursued the enemy continuously, gained 6km and took a rest.
8 April: By order, we were to guard a point where three roads join. During the night, we suffered an earthquake, enemy shelling and malaria.
Kubota soon succumbed.
9 April: I am suffering from a very high temperature and am weak, but must advance. Our company took over again the point where the three roads meet. It was after midnight. I never felt such agony before. At last! The enemy has put up the white flag! There were about 800 prisoners.
10 April: Again 2,000 of the enemy gave up! We are smiling. I remind you that all of these enemies have a hand in killing our comrades and our brothers. It seems that no one is thinking deeply, just smiling. The enemy is giving up, but we must think of our loss. Our company alone lost its commander and 30 soldiers under him. One more breath and we will be in Manila. We are awaiting that day. At last the game is up. For this day, we went through our difficulties and suffering!
11 April: The enemy commander, Major General King, sent a declaration saying: ‘Stop fighting.’ Those soldiers who gave up fighting are coming down the mountain. Sixty, 80, 100 vehicles are coming down flying the white flag. Our dead comrades are now enjoying the sight from the other world. We have been waiting for this day … we fought for this day … and our comrades died for this day. This day is the fruit of our hard fight. Now the spirits of our dead comrades can go back to the shrine of Yasukuni and rest forever. There are 3,000 prisoners to be shot to death – those Filipinos who fought against us under the command of America. I felt sorry for the conclusion of their life. I suppose this is the end of the diary of the fighting at Bataan.
But it was not the end of Kubota’s diary, as his suffering continued, though this was nothing compared to the suffering of those captured at Bataan. Some 70,000 starving prisoners of war were force-marched 100km (60 miles) under the tropical sun to a prison camp in Tarlac. They were kicked and beaten on the way, and those who fell behind were bayoneted. Some 7,000 to 10,000 died on the journey. But Kubota knew nothing of this.
12 April: We received orders to go to Baliugo or Bagio and we began to march at nine o’clock. Our division expected to reach there by stopping over at Hato Base which lay on the right bank of the Chawel or Jauel River. Again I had a temperature and a difficult time. Today we passed the place where they distribute the prisoners who are brought back by truck. There was a bloody wind blowing. We even smelt it with our nostrils.
13 April: Again I have a high temperature. It must be malaria. We will start marching to Guagua tomorrow. The diagnosis was malaria. Tomorrow I will be sent to the San Fernando clearing hospital. Thirteen of our company will go. I feel quite sick. I will depart with Kawano, Nishmura, Jinno. We had a nice farewell party because we had received additional supplies. We celebrated our victory over Bataan. At the same time we prayed for the repose of the souls of our dead comrades.
14 April: We arrived at the hospital by truck. I think it will take some time to get well because I am so run down. Today, I laid on a bed for the first time in months, it seemed, for we have been sleeping in the trench dugout.
15 April: Two days have past since I came to this hospital. Most of the patients were sent to Manila. I expect they will send me there around the 16th or 17th. I feel that my temperature is lower. There is so much perspiration while I sleep, Top-Private Ishikawa watching me has been a great help. Privates Hamada, Musui, Murakami and Kinoshito who are leaving the hospital to rejoin the company came to see me; also Lieutenant Suzuki. I will try and cultivate my spiritual side while I am in this hospital. For a long time it has been neglected. Now I am as weak mentally as I am physically. I recall many incidents while we were fighting. It was hard fighting. Our company lost its commander, 30 men killed and 100 wounded. At any rate, the enemy at last gave up at Bataan … Since we arrived here on 1 January, we have slept on the beach, by the roadside, in fields, dugouts and on the mountainside. In pursuit after pursuit, we lost our comrades. Now I can hear the voices of those dead comrades and my blood begins to boil. I can visualize the fight on 5 Company on the river bank and the enemy’s artillery fire when we were crossing the Abuabua River on 16 March. 3 April was the attack on the enemy’s base and on the 6th the assault. It is hard to stop thinking and seeing those fighting figures fall before the enemy’s fire. Those shouting voices and bloody bodies. Those men who have gone as the many falling petals of the cherry blossom had now become glorified by Kudan i at the shrine of Yasukuni. Now they rest peacefully. It is so strange that I am alive. Such was my fortune to live through the battle and I cannot help but wonder how it happened. I know that my family are praying for my safety and that my wife and child are looking for my safe return. I look towards the sky where my family live and pay my deepest respect to them as I lay on this bed of the San Fernando clearing hospital.
16 April: This is the day I am to be sent to Manila. Lieutenant General Nara, the commander of the Nara Army, came to visit us at the 13th hour. He said to the sick men, ‘You must take good care of your sick bodies.’ Sergeant Major Utsuki came to report about our soldiers. I asked Private Tachibana to take my officer’s public report. The price of commodities in San Fernando are so high that we find it very difficult to buy anything. I will buy rubber boots when I arrive in Manila. And I have no more shirts left. Also my gold filling is loose and the cavity in my tooth should be filled. I hope to be in Manila very soon.
17 April: The day passed as usual. There is nothing to write about, only that there are few cigarettes left. If I were at home I would smoke Homore [a cheap brand of Japanese cigarettes]. Here we can only get a few Piedmont, Commander and Circle. I will not smoke those cigarettes, but I will ask Lieutenant Kishi to get others for me …
18 April: After the fight: There is no sound as the evening sun disappears behind the western hill. It seems like a dream. What has happened? Ten of my men are killed, ten injured. We buried the dead in the dugouts which the enemy built. Ther
e are the enemy’s bodies too. Who will take care of them? It is a sorrowful sight. Again we will be marching tomorrow. Yesterday’s soldiers are no more today. There I was alone looking up at the moon, thinking. My emotions sink low.
19 April: Again the day. It is a lonesome existence at the hospital. Last night another soldier died. A lonely death for a soldier to die of sickness. Our company commander and Lieutenant Abe are on the hospital list. This fever is a greater enemy than the enemy itself. The nurse with whom I have become friendly for the last four or five days is leaving for Manila. The women of Japan are doing their part. They are working as hard as anyone …
21 April: Another patient died … died calling for Mr Orderly! Mr Orderly! His voice was restrained by army discipline. Why can he not shout out, ‘My mother! My father!’ Or call his wife or sweetheart’s name? It is natural to call for one’s nearest when one is dying. Why can they not supply nurses instead of those uniformed orderlies? A woman’s voice after the death battle is sweet … The soft voice, gentle manner, kindly words, graceful walk – all these we look for. Not for any physical desire, nor with worldly eyes towards the nurse. We only want their tender care and the feeling that we are at home. It gives us strength.
22 April: Again the hot wind is blowing. The sky is getting dark. Everyone is wishing for a downpour of rain and the breath of a cool breeze. Most of the patients are out of their minds with a high temperature. Their red eyes gazing aimlessly into the air. In the cellar of this hospital lay many patients. And they die, one by one, every day. It is the tragedy of this war. My pain in the heart is greater than anywhere else when I think of those who die by sickness after this glorious battle. Theirs is a lonely and sad death. We sick men must get well. We must fight against this fever as we fought against the enemy. We must not give up so easily.
LETTER TO CHIZUKO
Alone in his hospital bed, Kubota’s mind turned once more to his daughter.
24 April: This is for my child, Chizuko:
Small, lovely girl, Chizuko!
I am your father who is lying on a bed in a white gown in a hospital. The hospital is in a town called San Fernando which is 60km north of Manila in the Philippines … As you know I am a soldier, therefore, I do not know when I will be killed. This is the life of a soldier. It is unpredictable whether one dies from illness at any time, or when one is fighting on the front. I have jumped over many death lines and been saved so far. But I would like to tell you now, that I would like you to read this diary when you grow up. And if you want to know more about your father, ask your mother. Your father has been a quick-tempered and simple-minded person. I have mistreated your mother by saying unkind words to her and occasionally being violent. Your father is untamed and ill-mannered, but I would like you to know I am not an animal or a savage. With all of my shortcomings I have a kindly heart and am considered manly. I have been admired and respected by my soldiers … and also my superior officers have been friendly and liked my character. You will see those trophies and the writings which are placed in the Tokonoma [a raised alcove in a traditional Japanese home containing art or family treasures]. They are the records of my fencing contests. I have worked for my training and won in such matters as fencing. I am sure that you will be an athlete like me. I am also good at memorizing. I was in the high school. And you will be good at memorizing too. I am now training myself to be your good father, by correcting my faults as I face them everyday. I was stationed in Manchuria two years before I came to the Philippines. So I have been in battle for two wars … and three years engaged in office work at headquarters. My characteristic is not liking to be inferior to other people in my work. So I have worked hard to do as well as any other person in a contest. Your uncle is a hard worker too. He has studied and succeeded. He is a splendid person. I am sure that you will be a beautiful young woman who will reflect all of our good qualities. Your father has been a drinker of wine, and has given much trouble to your mother by this. But I went to the army soon after finishing high school and never had the opportunity to learn the culture and manners of life which are learned through contact and experience. In other words, I have never grown up with the advantages that many men have had. Yet my heart is not so far from your heart. My desire and wishes are still those of a child. I was raised in a family that had few difficulties through poverty and in happy and fortunate atmosphere. This good fortune of my family is due to your dead uncle’s unselfish assistance. So I wish that you would keep up the best care of your uncle’s grave. My mother rests there too. I have heard beautiful stories about my mother. I lost her when I was very young and my auntie raised me as her own child. She is the most kind and lovely person. I always thought that my auntie was a symbol of the Buddha. If you want to know more about your uncle and auntie, ask Aunt Moyo. She will tell you about them. My dear little Chizuko, you must listen to your mother. Learn from her and grow up to be just like her – a woman, gentle and kind, who is loved and admired by others. Just having beautiful looks does not make a good woman. You must be the possessor of a beautiful character and a good heart. And I want you to be a womanly woman. I always believed that a man should be manly and a woman womanly. This writing is for my daughter, Chizuko. I am writing this, dear Chizuko, from a bed in the San Fernando Hospital.
Your father
Sub-Lieutenant of the Japanese Army
Officers Quarters, San Fernando Hospital
On 18 April General James H. Doolittle had launched an air raid against Tokyo, Yokohama, Kobe, Osaka and Nagoya. His 16 B-25s took off from the aircraft carrier Hornet and flew 1,000km (600 miles) to Japan. This mission had been thought to be impossible as the planes were unable to carry enough fuel to return to the carrier. But instead, they flew on and landed behind friendly lines in China. The raid did little damage, but the bombing of Tokyo was seen as a personal attack on the emperor and was a terrible warning of what was to come. Kubota’s hometown Matsuyama, where his wife and newborn child waited, was over 650km (400 miles) from Tokyo. But it was just 65km (40 miles) across the Gulf of Itsuki from Hiroshima.
Meanwhile, the good news was that Kubota was recovering from malaria. He was not going to die ignominiously in hospital. He begged to be sent back to his company, and left San Fernando on 28 April, planning to visit Manila before returning to the front.
29 April: I met Higashiya. He seems well. He found a way for me to have a bath and made me comfortable in many ways. He gave me a watch in memory and in return I gave him a fountain pen made in the USA which has a gold nib. He accompanied me to Manila where I bought a pair of boots which cost me $23.00! I returned to San Fernando by automobile. Higashiya told me that he would probably be sent back to Japan to the main division base. I went to pay my respects to the grave of the late Shima Battalion commander. It recalled so many incidents that sorrow overcame me. We had both been well and in good health when we parted, but now he was in this world no more. At that last meeting we parted forever. I spent the night in San Fernando.
30 April: I went on to Tarlac and met Lieutenant Murai. I tried to locate my squad, but I could not, so I stayed overnight in Tarlac.
1 May: When I started out for Dalmolais, we changed trains and due to some trouble I had to walk 300m with my suitcase on my shoulder. Private Saito looked quite worn out and weak.
2 May: I took the train to Bagio. Many cedar trees were growing there and made me think of autumn at home. This is many thousand metres above sea level and quite cold at night and in the morning. I received supplies from 5 Company and was told that the commander had left here yesterday.
3 May: I took a sight-seeing tour around Bagio. It is a beautiful town. I learned that it had been a resort. The houses are lovely and the streets and gardens well cared for. There were cedar trees and cypresses and many familiar flowers blooming. It was just like home and I felt fine.
4 May: Today I went out shopping. I bought a sweater for my child, Chizuko. Mr Oniwa, who is an army doctor, is from Kurume and was our neighbour when we li
ved on Rvugae Street. He also bought a sweater for my child. Now she has two sweaters. I am going to put them in my office suitcase [a willow trunk] take them to San Fabian and leave them in the storing place there.
5 May: … As I was resting on the road, someone put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into the smiling, healthy face of a second lieutenant. We exchanged greetings and he went on. Not long after I heard the sound of firing and about 300 soldiers passed me. More shooting followed. It was the sound of our light machine-guns. The fighting had started. ‘To the left!’ The order came through a straight narrow road from the jungle. I stood to the left of the narrow road as a stretcher with a man on it came down. The man’s head was red with blood and he lay motionless. I asked the stretcher bearer in a low voice if the man was injured. He replied in a sorrowful voice, ‘No, killed.’ He was the X Company commander. Not more than five minutes had passed since he had put his hand on my shoulder and we had smiled at each other. I felt my hand and could feel the warmth of his when we had exchanged greetings. Now he was not with us any more. His spirit is somewhere and his dead body lay before me on the stretcher. This is the life of the front line, but how we men feel when one meets death so suddenly!
6 May: Sergeant Major Yazaki reported about the time of our leaving. Today I have a temperature and a headache. Mr Oniwa is having a difficult time with dysentery … My picture has been developed, so I intend to send it home. Mr Fukuzaki wrote me that my daughter is getting big and that her eyes are large and round.
7 May: Seven o’clock in the morning we left Bagio. There is mountain after mountain. All of them stand several thousand feet high. The road cuts across the valley of these mountains and high cliffs hang below and above. It is the most dangerous road I have ever seen. One must shut one’s eyes … It has been made more difficult by the enemy’s demolition work. It is 25RI [Japanese miles] long. We stayed over at the base of Towchi.