by Vincent Yee
He leaned toward his desk and pulled up a memo pad bearing his name and wrote on it, “Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh.” He tapped the memo pad with the end of his pen when his secretary knocked on the door and peeped in.
“If you don’t need anything more, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.
“Just one more thing, Mary, before you leave. Cancel my afternoon meetings for tomorrow and see if you can get a hold of Baker at the Pentagon,” asked the senator.
“Defense Secretary Baker?” asked the secretary. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, I’ll see you in the morning,” said the senator as he offered a reassuring smile.
“Very well. Have a good night, then,” said the secretary as she quietly closed the door.
After a few days of well-placed calls and face-to-face meetings, the Pentagon assigned an investigative team to look into Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh’s service record. The record was located and indicated that he was officially listed as missing in action during the battle at the Vosges Mountains in France.
It took further investigation to uncover the rest of the story. Many of the men who were present and in command during the rescue mission at the Vosges Mountains had since passed away. The battle took more Japanese Americans lives than there were to save. The 442nd that day was in a hellish battle, without any field support from the regular command to save 200 lives while losing 800 of their own.
The senator himself had always quietly reflected on what he felt was a double standard given to the brave men of the 442nd. His determination to fight on was fueled by his desire to prove that he was a true American soldier. As a young soldier, all he wanted to do was to win the war and get home to his family. How the men of the 442nd were to be recognized in the years and decades to come was far from his mind. But more recently, he’d been fighting to get Japanese American soldiers recognized as true Americans. And now, he was confronted with the story of a fellow soldier of the 442nd who may have been grossly and unjustly labeled a wartime deserter.
When the stateside documents were reviewed, the investigators found it odd that Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh’s name was crossed out. Even the letter of desertion that Aiko’s father referred to was reviewed and though to be on official U.S. Army stationery, there was no official record of such a letter ever being sent by the War Department.
But it was the testimony of Private Peter Tanaka that moved the investigative committee. Despite his personal hardship and previous memory loss, his powerful testimonial to the selfless courage and heroism of Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh gave life to man who had only existed quietly on paper in the current military’s eyes. After four weeks of research, there was enough support to reinstate Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh’s official service record to “killed in action.” He was immediately eligible for the U.S. Army’s decoration of the Purple Heart.
T W E N T Y E I G H T
The sky was bathed in a warm blue that canopied the White House Rose Garden, where so many important ceremonies had taken place over the course of American history. The grass was a vivid green and the air soothing and bore the scent of spring flowers.
The story of Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh’s heroic actions reached the White House, and the White House Press Office saw a huge opportunity for the President of the United States to posthumously honor a wartime hero and show that heroes come in many faces. It was a way to celebrate the great diversity of the military’s armed services as well as the citizens of the United States of America. With the full backing of the White House, a special Memorial Day ceremony was arranged to honor the remarkable story of one American soldier’s experience. The usual people from the press were invited, along with all those who had been part of his story.
Aiko stood at the end of the aisle that ran between the rows of white chairs. She was wearing a royal blue skirt with a matching jacket. It was unbuttoned halfway, showing the red blouse underneath. She had just freed a slight snag in her white stockings without creating a run, and she was relieved. She looked at her watch. There were only a few more minutes before the ceremony would begin. She scanned the people who were quieting conversing with one another in their seats as others quietly settled in. It was even rumored that one of the Supreme Court justices was also present. But on that day, many of the guests were Japanese Americans and they had dressed looking their best that Memorial Day morning.
“Hello Aiko,” came a familiar voice from behind.
Aiko turned around to see Mr. Tanaka and his wife, Noriko. He had come out in his dark olive military uniform that still seemed to fit him. For the occasion, he had worn his own Purple Heart.
“Mr. Tanaka and Mrs. Tanaka,” said Aiko as she warmly greeted them with a hug.
“My wife finally decided to overcome her fear of flying for this occasion,” said Mr. Tanaka as his wife blushed in embarrassment. They laughed and he continued, “I think your grandfather would be so proud seeing all of this being done for him,” said Mr. Tanaka.
“I think he would be,” smiled Aiko. “Oh, Mr. Tanaka, I want you to meet someone.”
Aiko was able to get the attention of another Japanese American woman who looked to be in her late seventies. She and another gentleman, presumably her husband, strode over to Aiko with beaming smiles. Behind them was a man who looked to be in his mid-forties. She was wearing a long dress and she had shoulder-length hair with streaks of silver running through it. Her husband was wearing a gray suit with a blue-patterned tie. The younger man was in a dark navy suit, with a starched blue shirt accented with a yellow tie.
“Mr. Tanaka, I want you to meet Miho Sakamoto and her husband, Yukio. Miho is my grandmother’s sister.”
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Tanaka,” exclaimed Miho as her face lit up.
“I’m delighted. This is my wife Noriko, and please call me Peter,” said Mr. Tanaka in a friendly manner as he introduced his wife.
“And Mr. Tanaka, I want you to meet their son… Kenji,” said Aiko profoundly.
Kenji extended his hand and Mr. Tanaka had to pause for a moment when Aiko said their son’s name. He looked over and Aiko nodded slightly with a smile. It was Miho, who was the girl that Kenji spoke of as he was dying. He had said that she was the cutest girl in the world. And she had named her son after him. He gripped the man’s hand and shook it firmly and pressed his lips together as he admired the man who had carried the name of his long-ago friend.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Tanaka–we appreciate everything you’ve done for our family,” said Kenji.
“It’s my honor,” said Mr. Tanaka as he then turned to Miho. “Kenji was a good soldier.”
“I know,” said Miho as she bit back a moment of emotion.
“I think they’re about to begin,” whispered Aiko. “My grandmother and everyone else are sitting up front on the right. Your seats are in the front row on the left, Mr. Tanaka.”
Aiko sat down to the left of her grandmother, who was already seated next to Aiko’s father. Then a tap came on Aiko’s right shoulder from behind. She turned her head and saw Cat, who was seated next to Tom. He was a sergeant in the Marines and looked quite handsome in his dress whites. “This is so cool, Aiko!” Cat whispered in her Jersey accent.
Aiko smiled. “I know.” She looked to her left to see that Mr. Tanaka was seated with his wife and his grandson, whose drawing lead to this auspicious occasion. Joey waved back at Aiko. She winked back and waved playfully. A warm hand then slipped over Aiko’s right hand and she turned to see her grandmother smiling with pride. She had her hair up and had even put on a little makeup. She was wearing one of her favorite long floral dresses with a white ruffle along the neckline. She gave Aiko a warm look of deep appreciation and she said, “Thank you.”
Aiko placed her other hand on top of her grandmother’s and held it warmly. She smiled back at her because at that moment, nothing more needed to be said between them.
The President of the United States walked up to the podium with a confide
nt gait as everyone watched. He was an older gentleman with slightly graying hair. He wore a navy blue suit that fit snugly around his frame giving him a fit and trim look. He turned to the crowd and there was a glint of profound respect in his eyes. He slowly focused his attention on Mrs. Satoh and saw her looking back at him. He began to speak.
“In the course of our proud American history, we have fought many wars in the name of freedom. We have overcome great acts of tyranny, aggression, and terrorism to preserve our way of life and to bring peace to many corners of the world. It is our duty as Americans to fight for freedom, especially when our own freedoms are threatened. This fight though, had been borne on the shoulders of many dedicated young men and women of our armed forces.” The president took a moment to survey the crowd, who listened intently.
“But many of them paid the ultimate sacrifice that this country can ever ask of them. They will never be forgotten, and they will always be honored. However, sometimes their sacrifice is not recognized. This is something that I, and many members of Congress, are trying to rectify. Honoring the sacrifices of these fine men and women, no matter their ethnicity, should be an ongoing commitment of this country. We must remember that in the U.S. military, the American soldier may come from many different backgrounds but that his or her patriotism is always the same.”
The president’s words drew a short round of applause from the crowd. He continued.
“Today, I have the privilege to introduce to you one of our very own. This is a man whom I have the privilege to call a friend and an American hero. He is a decorated World War II war veteran, having received the Congressional Medal of Honor for his service in the line of duty. Even though he was subjected to the injustice of the internment camp, he still responded to the call of duty and performed admirably in the all Japanese American regiment, the venerable 442nd. After his war service, he continued on his service to this great country as one of the most distinguished members of the United States Senate. My words alone cannot commend this man and his life’s work but I have the pleasure to introduce him to you today. Ladies and gentleman, I give to you, U.S. Senator of California, Senator Matsuda.”
Applause erupted from the crowd as the senior Senator rose from his seat and walked toward the podium. Though in his late eighties, he was able to walk strongly up to the podium on his own accord. His hair was surprisingly thick and still black. The president clapped respectfully as the Japanese American war veteran, a reminder of the past and present, walked toward him. The president then extended his hand and the senator took it firmly as they both looked at one another with utmost mutual respect and smiled as the photographers took pictures.
The president then stepped down and took his seat while the senator took to the podium. He adjusted his glasses and looked out into the crowd. He had given many speeches in his lifetime, but this one was special. He gazed out at the White House lawn. He looked in wonder at the people staring back at him and was comforted by the familiarity of the faces looking back. There were men and women, old and young, and he saw some older men proudly wearing their military uniforms. Many of them had on the front of their uniforms, medals of distinction, serving as a living reminder of the sacrifices that were part of war. But the one thing that made that day different was that the many faces were Japanese Americans.
“Thank you Mr. President. Thank you for your kind and warm introduction. Ladies and gentlemen…” Then the senator paused, “Friends… we are gathered here today to honor one of our very own. A man who gave his life to this great country in the line of duty. Like myself, he was interned and his patriotism was unjustly questioned. But when my country asked me to fight in World War II, I did not hesitate and I, and so many others, like the man we honor today, volunteered. Some of us made it home… some of us did not.”
“This soldier didn’t make it back home. Nor was he ever recognized for making the ultimate sacrifice. In the military, we have a saying to our brothers and sisters in arms: We will not leave you behind. Though more than sixty years may have passed and I feel great heartache that we didn’t do it sooner, today we bring back home Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh of the 442nd.”
The senator paused to collect his thoughts as emotion momentarily flooded through him but he gathered his composure and continued. “You could have been my brother, Sergeant Satoh, but you will always be my brother in arms. I’ve been told that Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh had a nickname: ‘Home Run.’”
The senator paused once more and continued, “To Hiroshi, wherever you may be, you can now come home, to your family, your friends and your country. You can take your rightful place among those who sacrificed their lives before you, with you and after you. You are a true American hero.”
Tears and quiet sobbing were heard as people were moved by the senator’s poignant words. He knew he had to control his own emotions while extolling his fallen comrade. For him, his own battle wasn’t just fighting for his country but fighting to be accepted as an American. But now, he was fighting for a man who couldn’t be heard. He lifted from beneath the podium a walnut case, which he opened and lifted for everyone to see. It was lined with a shiny royal blue fabric and in the middle was the Purple Heart medal.
“Mrs. Satoh, I give to you the Purple Heart in honor of your husband, Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh of the 442nd, for his service and sacrifice to this great country. We shall always remember him and I salute him.”
The senator looked down at Mrs. Satoh. She shook as pride, joy, and vindication coursed through her. She stared up at the senator, who offered her a firm salute. His gesture did not go unnoticed. The aging Japanese American war veterans in the audience, including Mr. Tanaka, rose creakily from their seats and turned to Minami. She in turn gazed back at scores of elderly veterans, who stood tall and proud, and in uncanny unison, saluted in her direction. Minami stood up, helped by her son, and nodded in humble appreciation at the gesture of generous respect they gave to honor her husband. They held their salute with resolute faces. She turned back to the senator, who still held his salute. There was a proud smile on his face.
Minami’s eyes were then suddenly drawn onto the glass-paned doors behind the senator leading into the White House. A soldier in his full dress whites appeared behind the doors. It was difficult to make out the ghostly figure, but it was unmistakably a man of Japanese descent. He looked in Minami’s direction. He had a strong jaw line with deep brown eyes. He was handsome with a strong build. He smiled softly then suddenly disappeared. Minami’s heart skipped a beat. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw Hiroshi. She suddenly felt calm as images of Hiroshi as the water boy, the carpenter, the martial artist, the astrologer, the unconventional psychiatrist, the husband, the father, the hero, the soldier, and the lover flashed before her.
The senator held his salute for a moment more and lowered his hand. He stepped around the podium as a U.S. Marine followed respectfully behind him with the folded flag of the United States. He stopped in front of Minami and looked down at her solemnly. “Mrs. Satoh, please accept this Purple Heart posthumously, on behalf of the United States, in honor of Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh of the 442nd.” He presented the medal to her.
Minami slowly took the case that held the Purple Heart. She had seen many Purple Hearts adorned on other men that day, but this one was different. This Purple Heart was Hiroshi’s, and she could now cherish it.
The somber silence was then interrupted as four magnificent silver jets streaked overhead in the missing man formation. They soared majestically, crossing over the Rose Garden as everyone looked up in awe. The lead jet then arced upward and disappeared as the other jets raced away.
Minami looked into the senator’s face as her eyes filled with joyful and proud tears. She was almost embarrassed by her emotions but managed a smile as she shook Senator Matsuda’s hand. “He’s home now,” he said gently.
Minami wiped a few tears away and smiled. “Yes, he is.”
* * *
After the moving ceremony, Aiko found h
erself standing in front of the white tombstone marker at Arlington National Cemetery. It was brand new. The fresh engraving read:
Hiroshi Satoh
Purple Heart
Sergeant
U.S. Army
442nd
World War II
May 28, 1918
Oct. 30, 1944
Aiko held her arms across herself and admired her grandfather’s name. The cemetery was a peaceful place. The wind gently glided along the grass, sweeping each blade back and forth. It was a place to honor the many soldiers who had given their lives. Here, their memories would live quietly on in peace.
A person never truly died if those whom he had touched in one way or another remember him. She felt to herself that finally he was at peace and that he was finally home. Then Aiko said something she had never said before: “I love you, Grandpa.”
She continued admiring the tombstone when a shadow crept up behind her. A familiar voice called out to her. “Hey gorgeous.”
She smiled as she spun around to see Jonathan. He was tall and lean, and looked so handsome in his military dress whites. He was smiling as he looked down at her with his deep brown eyes. She quickly threw her arms behind his neck and leaned up at him as he placed a longing kiss on her soft lips. Aiko and Jonathan held each other as they kissed when Aiko embarrassingly broke away and leaned her head against his chest. She laughed and said, “I’ve missed you.”
Jonathan then hugged her once more and gently let her slip out of his arms. He reached out tenderly for her fingertips and held them in front of him.
“I thought you said you couldn’t make it,” said Aiko as she looked up into his eyes.