by Vincent Yee
Mr. Tanaka then rubbed his wife’s hand as a smile crept over her face. She was almost blushing as she looked deeply into his eyes. Mr. Tanaka smiled back and turned to Aiko.
“At first, I didn’t remember her, but she insisted she was my girlfriend. To her dismay, I didn’t believe her. I didn’t trust anyone. The only people that I did remember were my immediate family. They supported me as best they could, but soon, even their visits to me in the hospital became less frequent.
“But my wife here, she came back to visit me every single day and soon I just got used to her. Every single day, she would bring this master timeline to help me rebuild my memories. But the hardest memories came when I talked about the war. I relived so many horrific scenes of people dying such agonizing deaths. But you know, her persistence paid off, and soon I started seeing more order to my jumbled memories and other memories started to fall into place. Finally, almost six years later, something just seemed to click and I felt whole all over again. But the most amazing thing was my wife. She had devoted her life to me holding onto the belief that I would come back and she was right, I did. My memory loss gave me one gift and that was falling in love all over again with the same woman. And even if I didn’t remember her, I fell in love with her anyways with her devotion to me. What man wouldn’t?”
Mrs. Tanaka blushed even more as she gently held her husband’s hands.
“So I got married to this amazing woman. She was the real soldier for all those years after the war, and she nursed me back to health, physically and mentally. Because I had lost so many years, I never had the chance to stay in touch with many people. Many of the people who I had known died that day. It was much easier for me to simply let the past stay in the past so I could began to catch up with the many years that I had lost. And life did go on–my wife gave birth late in life to Joey’s father, Joseph, in 1958.”
Mrs. Tanaka shook her husband’s hand. “1957.”
He gazed at her and a glint of realization came over his face as he smiled. He chuckled at himself. “Sorry, 1957,” he said. “See, she still remembers better than I do.”
Mr. Tanaka’s story reflected sheer will and human struggle, thought Aiko. She didn’t understand why stories like this from these amazing men and women were not being told. She didn’t understand why their sacrifice and contribution were not taught in schools to show that everyone in America, even those who were victims of racism, could still come together to perform their patriotic duty when their country needed them.
“But you know, the past has a strange way of catching up with someone,” Mr. Tanaka continued. “People from my memories started to speak to me, and I started to remember who they were. They finally meant more to me than just memories when I started to remember their friendships. Up until then, everything was just a static collection of memories, but now they had meaning. I suddenly remembered that these brave men were my friends. I suffered a short mental breakdown soon thereafter, but I recovered as I let the voices speak to me. And you know, that’s all they wanted to do. They just wanted to speak to me. Your grandfather was my best friend in the army and he really spoke to me. That’s when everything came rushing back to me, and finally everything came together again. That was right before Joey was born.
“I always carried that guilt for not being able to deliver that letter. I just made the assumption that everyone I cared about from that time had passed on. I never told anyone about that letter except to my wife and then my grandson. One night, Joey told me that he wanted me to tell him of a story from my past and I guess I wanted to honor my best friend, your grandfather. Though it was a hard memory, I’ve come to terms with my memories in the last few years, and I felt that Joey should hear the story. I wanted him to know so that he could appreciate what Japanese Americans before him did for this great country. Even Akira redeemed himself in the end. Little did I know that Joey’s picture would be seen by Hiroshi’s granddaughter. Now I can fulfill my duty and my long-overdue promise that I made to a dear friend.”
Aiko couldn’t help feeling a sense of warmth as she listened to Mr. Tanaka’s ordeal and about his final acceptance of his past. “Mr. Tanaka, I don’t know where to begin. I can’t express enough how much this means to me and even more so, to my grandmother.”
Aiko lifted herself off of her seat and wrapped her arms around Mr. Tanaka, who gently hugged her back. “For the granddaughter of my best friend, I would do anything,” Mr. Tanaka said.
Aiko settled herself back onto her seat. But she had one remaining question: The story of the dark secret dishonor that her grandfather was a wartime deserter. She knew it was not true, but she needed to hear this from someone who knew. “So Akira was the deserter, not my grandfather?”
“Akira wasn’t really a deserter in the end. Many men saw horrific things in those times and may have reacted irresponsibly. But in the end, he came back for your grandfather and me. I may not have liked him, if my memory serves me correctly, but he still came back for us. If it wasn’t for him struggling to get your grandfather off of that ridge when that tank was firing at us, I would not be here today,” Mr. Tanaka said.
“So my grandfather and Akira were not deserters?” asked Aiko.
Mr. Tanaka looked at Aiko strangely. “They were wartime heroes. Akira may have lost his senses for a moment but Hiroshi was…” He suddenly became annoyed–not with Aiko, but with the thought that the word “deserter” could be associated with either Akira or Hiroshi. “Why are you asking this?” he asked.
Aiko again realized that her grandmother probably did not know that her father had revealed to her that her grandfather was a deserter. Nor had she told Mr. Tanaka. She was too enthralled with his story.
Aiko let out a deep breath. “I recently learned from my father that my grandfather was a wartime deserter…”
“No!” growled Mr. Tanaka as bitter disbelief washed over his face. He suddenly stood up and seemed to tower over her. “That’s not true! Your grandfather was an honorable man! Your father told you this?”
Aiko was taken aback by his agitated reaction but she remained composed. She cleared her throat. “Yes. He said he found a letter from the army that said my grandfather was a deserter.”
Mr. Tanaka stepped away from the couch, clearly shaken by the news. He turned his back to Aiko and his wife. “That’s not true. Your grandfather was a hero.” He then turned around and faced Aiko again as angry tears clung to his eyelids. He looked indignant. “I was there, I should know.”
Mr. Tanaka looked down, feeling suddenly dejected. Then he looked up once more, “My duty to your grandfather isn’t done… I don’t even know where to begin.”
Aiko could see the determination in Mr. Tanaka’s eyes as the strength of a soldier suddenly rose up within him. If indeed the U.S. Army had officially labeled her grandfather as a wartime deserter when he obviously wasn’t, then the last man who saw him alive could clear his name.
Her mind raced back to an event that she attended surrounding the 442nd. It was a few years back, the War Department reviewed the duty record of many soldiers of the 442nd and found that many of them had actually been denied the appropriate accommodations for their service to their country, due in part to continuing racism toward Japanese Americans. Only after many decades were the surviving Japanese American soldiers given the appropriate recognition for their service to their country by then-President Clinton. Many were even recognized posthumously. But she wasn’t sure whom to contact to clear her grandfather’s name.
Then her cell phone rang.
She excused herself as she checked it to see who was calling. Suddenly her eyes lit up. She quickly brought the phone to her ear. “Jonathan!” she exclaimed with joy.
“Hey gorgeous,” he said. “How…”
“Jonathan, I can’t talk right now but I need you to do something for me.”
Jonathan was taken aback. “Um, sure.”
“I need to see your grandfather as soon as possible!” stated Aiko.
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br /> “My grandfather? What do you need to see…”
“Can you help me see him? Please Jonathan, this is important!” said Aiko.
Jonathan paused. “Well I guess I could. He’s usually in his office, so I guess I could get you to see him tomorrow…”
“I can’t tomorrow, I don’t think I can get a flight back home from Los Angeles that quickly,” Aiko said, growing more and more excited.
There was another pause. “You’re where?”
Aiko lamented her absentmindedness again. She held the phone closer and said with a big smile, “It’s a long story, but I’ll explain later. I love you!”
* * *
Aiko rushed off the boarding ramp and into the terminal, then quickly made her way out of the crowded airport. She wore an expression of determination and urgency as she emerged from the exit of Reagan National Airport. She was about to wave down a taxi when a familiar black sports car came to a screeching halt in front of her. The passenger side door popped opened and Cat peered out. She had her hair up and she was wearing a purple knitted sweater. She tilted her sunglasses downward along her nose and looked up at Aiko. “Somebody called for a taxi?”
“Cat!” said Aiko as a big smile came over her surprised face. “You found your car!”
Aiko quickly jumped into the car and gave Cat a warm hug. As she pulled away, Aiko noticed the spliced wires protruding from beneath the steering wheel. Aiko gave Cat a surprised look. Cat then simply said, “What? I’m from Jersey,” as the car peeled away from the curb.
As Cat sped along to Aiko’s apartment, Aiko recapped the events of the last three days. She started with how Mr. Tanaka had known her grandfather during the war and had been with him on the day of his death. She talked about his coma, how he came to terms with his own memories decades later, and how that the letter that never got delivered finally arrived in her grandmother’s hands almost sixty years later. She then shared her grandmother’s story of how she fought off a soldier who had tried to rape her. Aiko continued the story in her apartment. Cat listened attentively as Aiko freshened up and changed into a new set of clothes.
She told Cat how Mr. Tanaka had vehemently defended her grandfather, attesting to his honor. She described how stunned her parents were that she was in Los Angeles and how absolutely livid her father became that she had gone poking around in her grandfather’s history. But when she forced him to listen to her story, she saw decades of dishonor crumble away, revealing a sense of hope. Her father was amazed that she had found the man who was with his father on the day he died. It was a truth so compelling that it began to wash away the years of hidden shame.
Aiko came out of her bedroom in a new black skirt that ended below her knees and donned a white silk blouse. She had taken the time to put on a pearl necklace and matching earrings and had brushed her hair into place.
“Well, what do you think?” asked Aiko.
Cat looked over and then said, “Now you look like you could walk into a senator’s office.”
Aiko grinned and picked up her purse and opened the door as Cat followed. “It’s just your luck that you’re also dating the grandson of a U.S. senator,” Cat said as the door closed behind them.
Aiko left Cat waiting along the curb. She looked at her watch. It was half past four. She was right on time, but she didn’t know the U.S. Senate building well. A sense of nervousness slowly started to boil within her. The taps from her high heels seemed to echo loudly through the cavernous hall. She made her way up a flight of marble stairs and turned right when she entered another hallway. She started to count the room numbers when she arrived at the room she was looking for. She read the name on the door, “The Office of U.S. Senator Matsuda, California.”
She smoothed down her skirt and adjusted her blouse. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, straightened up, turned the doorknob and entered. A middle-aged Asian woman looked up from the front desk. She had a pleasant face and gave her a warm smile. She tilted her head slightly to one side and then asked, “May I help you?”
Aiko approached the front of the desk and said politely, “I’m here to see Senator Matsuda.”
A friendly expression appeared on the woman’s face as she spoke, “Oh, you must be Aiko Satoh. He’s been eager to meet you all day. Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll let him know that you are here.”
Aiko thanked the woman, who got up and disappeared around the corner. Instead of sitting, Aiko found herself looking at the pictures hanging on the wall of the senator’s office. He was a distinguished-looking man in his late eighties. There were pictures of him shaking hands with many different U.S. presidents. Then she came to a picture of him being honored with the Congressional Medal of Honor by-then President Clinton. He had also fought in the 442nd, and if there were anyone that would listen and understand her grandfather’s story, it would be him. Of course, just happening to be the girlfriend of his grandson didn’t hurt matters any.
The woman appeared from behind the corner and with a smile said to Aiko, “He’ll see you now.”
Aiko thanked her and walked to the partially opened door of the senator’s office. She tapped it lightly when a friendly voice beckoned her in. She entered the office and came face to face with the senator. His navy suit and burgundy tie gently draped his solid frame as he stood up to greet her. He exuded warmth, but his disposition, shaped by years of experience, commanded respect. Aiko suddenly felt smaller in his presence as she extended her slender hand to the senator.
“Senator Matsuda, it’s so nice to meet you,” said Aiko respectfully as she grasped the senator’s warm hand.
“It’s so nice to meet you as well, Aiko. Jonathan has told me so much about you,” he replied. “Well, only as much as he could in the past couple of days.”
Aiko laughed with embarrassment and the senator smiled affectionately. He motioned Aiko to a thick round oak table flanked by two large green leather chairs. The seams of the leather were hemmed together with brass round-ended tacks burnished by age.
“Can I get you some water?” the senator asked as he lifted a pitcher of water in one hand and a glass in the other. Aiko nodded as he poured out two glasses of water. He settled into his chair and looked at Aiko. She began to feel more at ease. In him, she saw the same quiet strength that she loved about Jonathan.
“From what my grandson has told me, you’ve had quite an eventful few days,” said the senator.
“Yes, you can say that,” Aiko replied.
“And how is my grandson? Staying out of trouble?” he asked.
“Of course not, he’s always involved in something,” Aiko replied playfully.
The senator chuckled. “That sounds like my grandson. Always up to something.”
They shared a laugh when the senator peered up at Aiko and continued, “Jonathan could only tell me so much, Aiko. Why don’t you tell me your version of events about your grandfather? Tell me about, Hiroshi Satoh.”
Aiko straightened, took a deep breath, and began to tell the senator about her heroic grandfather. She had rehearsed in her mind what she wanted to say and she found she didn’t have to struggle. The stories of her grandfather flowed effortlessly as she extolled his kindness, humor, generosity, and faithfulness. She described his bravery, his valor, his sense of honor and duty. She even described how much he loved her grandmother. When she was done, the senator sat in silence as if he had just lost a friend. Many of Aiko’s stories had stirred similar memories of his own service in the 442nd.
Aiko then offered one more closing remark, “And that was my grandfather.”
“He sounded like a remarkable man,” the senator said as his deep brown eyes looked at Aiko.
“Is there anything you can do to help me clear my grandfather’s name?” asked Aiko.
“Of course. I will do everything in my power to look into your grandfather’s situation. You have my word on that, Aiko.”
Aiko couldn’t hide the smile of relief. She felt reassured and suddenly happ
y. Had she pursued this matter herself, it may have taken years. Her family, especially her grandmother and Mr. Tanaka, deserved a quick resolution. She had known in her heart of hearts that her grandfather was not a deserter. She wasn’t even sure how he could have been labeled as such. But now she had a powerful advocate to champion for him, and what better man than a former soldier of the 442nd.
The sun had started to set and the streets outside the senator’s office were bathed in a bluish and purplish tint illuminated by spots of hazy yellow from the streetlights. The sounds of passing cars and their purring engines crept in through the slightly open window. The senator rose, which prompted Aiko to do the same. He looked at the young pretty woman before him and considered how lucky his grandson was to have her.
“It’s getting late, but your story deserves my full attention,” said the senator firmly.
“Thank you, Senator Matsuda,” said Aiko gratefully.
“It’s also my duty, from one soldier to another, and as an American, to make sure he is rightfully honored.”
“My grandfather would be very appreciative,” said Aiko with a new sense of familiarity toward her grandfather whom she never met but grew to know well through her grandmother and Mr. Tanaka.
“It’s getting late. If you leave your contact information with Mary, I’ll call you once I hear something.”
“I’ll do that. Senator Matsuda?”
“Yes?” replied the senator.
Aiko didn’t know what prompted her to do it but she suddenly closed the distance between her and the senator and gave him a hug. Maybe she didn’t have the words to express her appreciation and for some reason, she suddenly felt that the senator was like a part of her family. He was a little surprised, but he smiled and gently hugged her back. Then she stepped away and simply said, “Thank you.”
After Aiko had left the office, the senator found himself musing over the papers on his desk and though many of them demanded his attention, they didn’t seem all that important right then and there. Over the decades, he had represented the needs of the Japanese American community, especially when it concerned the 442nd. It was important to him that the sacrifices of those men would not be in vain. But Aiko’s grandfather had an especially moving story. Throughout the years, he had never heard of any desertions from the 442nd. It was one of the few army regiments that proudly boasted that it had none.