Around lunch time, we went to the country club’s dining room, where Richmond Turner, former Commander-in-Chief of the US Navy’s Seventh Fleet, and his wife joined us. There, I enjoyed the friendly hospitality of worthy rivals during the Pacific War—just like the saying: “Yesterday’s enemy is today’s friend.”
60
Dying for a Great Undertaking
In recent years, the Japanese government has sponsored a national memorial service for the war dead of the Pacific War on August 15th, the anniversary of the end of the war. The Emperor and Empress attend the service, and the Prime Minister delivers a memorial address. If the Prime Minister reads, “dying for a great undertaking,” impertinent members of the National Christian Council of Japan and others will demonstrate and agitate by passing out handbills that angrily state that war can never be a great undertaking.
Certainly, war itself may not constitute a great undertaking, but once a state enters into a war, the nation will engage the entire country staking the lives of her soldiers. This itself is a great undertaking, and if the combatants should fall in the battlefields, how can you express it with words other than, “making the ultimate sacrifice for a great cause?”
While I was staying in Honolulu, I happened to witness a memorial parade for the war dead of the 442nd Infantry Regimental Combat Team. The 442nd Combat Team was a troop comprised of second-generation Japanese Americans (Nisei) who were born as American citizens, and the unit was organized by those who volunteered in the face of the emergency of their homeland, the United States. Following the outbreak of war between the US and Japan, many Japanese living in Hawaii and all on the West Coast, approximately 110,000 in total, including many second-generation Japanese-Americans, were interned in camps in the interior of the continental US. Anger among the interned American citizens went unheeded as they were cursed by the violent words of the head of the US Army’s Western Command, Lieutenant General John L. DeWitt: “A Jap’s a Jap.” Initially, those interned Nisei were not allowed to enlist, but as the war became fiercer, they were accepted as volunteers to fight for their home country, the United States.
While the regimental commander and his battalion leaders were whites, the troops reporting to them were Nisei, mostly from Hawaii. It appears true that there were mixed feelings among the first-generation Japanese regarding the Nisei’s participation in the war, and, because of their ethnic features, the US military authorities deployed them on European fronts instead of in the Pacific theater. Before long, the 442nd Combat Team fought bravely and fiercely, in particular on the Italian front. They succeeded in rescuing a US Army unit that was surrounded by the German army and on the brink of annihilation, but they paid a high price and made significant sacrifices.
The loyalty of the Nisei troops who shed their blood for their home country, the US, moved all American people profoundly. I saw a news photos of the 442nd Combat Team as they arrived by ship in New York after the end of the war. They were given an incredibly enthusiastic welcome.
Now in Honolulu, at the center of the parade, there were many open cars with families of the war dead. They were all elderly first-generation Japanese couples, but the crowds gathered on both sides of the road were giving enthusiastic cheers to show respect and affection as the cars passed by. Also, confetti was thrown from buildings on both sides of the road onto the cars, a gesture of appreciation from the American people to those parents whose sons made the ultimate sacrifice for a great cause.
Watching the parade, I made up my mind to pay a visit to the burial places of my former men who fell during the Pearl Harbor attack, also participants in a great undertaking. On the day of the Pearl Harbor attack, 29 planes were lost, and 55 crewmen never returned. As is usually the case for air combat, the details of what happened to each plane were not or would never be known. At a minimum, I wanted to visit the burial places of those who crashed on Oahu Island, but I had no information as to where they might be.
I asked older generation Japanese in the area, but they said they did not know. At that time, Hawaii had not attained statehood yet, so I visited the Territorial Government Office of Hawaii in Honolulu in order to investigate any existing files. In the public relations section of the territorial office, there were no records related to the burial places, but I learned that there was a request from the Japanese government to transport the remains of the war dead to the homeland for proper burial. This request was passed through the US State Department, which was investigating the matter. I did not make much headway there.
Then, as they say, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” I thought of visiting the Headquarters of the Pacific Fleet. However, if I did it theatrically, it would go against the advice from my many friends: “Refrain from any visible behavior, except for missionary work, that would stir up memories of the Pearl Harbor incident.” So I visited the Headquarters of the Pacific Fleet by myself without informing the press beforehand and talked to the Pacific Fleet about this matter. Then, contrary to my expectation, the Headquarters staff was very much in favor of the idea, and they said a Lieutenant from the Public Relations Department would be assigned to assist me.
Under the Lieutenant’s guidance, I first went to the Naval Cemetery at Nuuanu, just outside Honolulu. According to the Lieutenant’s explanation, Lieutenant Fusata Iida was buried there, and he indicated the burial spot.
Lieutenant Iida was the commander of the Soryu fighter squadron, and his plane was hit and caught fire while attacking the seaplane base at Kaneohe. Engulfed by fierce flames and holding the control lever resolutely like a God of Fire, he gave a farewell salute with his free hand, then he made a sharp turn towards the big hangar at Kaneohe Base. His plane crashed into the hangar and exploded, engulfing the hangar—and the big seaplanes housed within—in flames.
According to the Lieutenant, the US Navy admired this heroic behavior of the enemy pilot, and they covered the pilot’s coffin with their naval ensign and, with full military courtesy, buried Iida while a guard corps performed a funeral gun salute. Snap-shot photos of those events were sent to Iida’s surviving family members. This happened such a long time ago, but I was deeply moved and admired his great deed. In front of Lieutenant Iida’s grave, I prayed for the repose of his soul.
Besides Iida, three crew members of Lieutenant Mimori Suzuki’s plane were buried in the Nuuanu Naval Cemetery. Lieutenant Naoji Iwasa of the special mini-submarine unit was also buried there. According to the Lieutenant, it was not confirmed that it was Iwasa, but the collar badge that was recovered was of the rank of lieutenant. Since Iwasa was the only lieutenant among the crews of the special mini-submarines, there could be no mistake. My guide said that the badge was sent to family survivors back in Japan. The Lieutenant then took me from Nuuanu Cemetery to Wahiawa. Wahiawa, which is located in the center of Oahu Island, is surrounded by pineapple fields. There, four bodies were buried. A space of one tsubo—approximately 10 square feet—was surrounded by a bamboo fence, and on top of the grave mound, a cross was erected. On the crossbar, there was an inscription that read, “Four Japanese Air Force Died in Action, Dec. 7, 1941.” I nodded that they were crew members of two dive bombers. The Lieutenant who was escorting me telephoned Clarence Caminos, head of the Wahiawa police station, who explained the following to me:
“The bodies of those four crew members whose planes were shot down were beyond recognition. One of the planes crashed into a house around 8:00 in the morning, and the other one crashed in a pineapple field four miles away, still carrying a 500-pound bomb. The four dead bodies were lying in state at the Wahiawa Fire Station that night, and they were buried here the next day. The funeral service was conducted by the Army, but the pilots were treated with the courtesy given to combatants killed in war.”
Thus, the war dead, those who fell doing great deeds, were treated courteously regardless of whether or not they were the enemy. Thanks to the favorable cooperation of the Headquarters of the Pacific Fleet, I was able to visit two burial places on Oahu I
sland. They said there were no more.
61
Incident on the Island of Niihau
I left Honolulu, and I was on Kauai Island on July 17th, Friday. On the following day, an express letter was delivered to me in the afternoon. Based on the writing, the letter was from a first generation Japanese, but the sender remained anonymous, only stating, “Honolulu sure to win member.” It was dated July 17th and written clumsily as follows.
“Dear Sir. Salute to Captain Fushida. Performance of Japanese air squadrons was excellent. Once, the Pacific Fleet was annihilated. Thanks to your efforts. Two or three planes of your men were shot down. One plane made a crash landing on Nihahu Island due to fuel shortage. One petty officer was dead in Nihahu Island. I want you to go to Nihahu Island to visit his grave. All other people made a triumphant return in silence. Please bring back the soil or something to Japanese people, visiting the grave. Japanese people will be pleased as well as the petty officer. Please make sure to go to Nihahu Island to visit the grave. It is your great responsibility as the commander. Be sure to go to visit the grave.
To Captain Fushida
July 17 Joining my hands in prayer
Honolulu sure to win member”
What he refers to as “Nihahu Island” is actually Niihau Island near Kauai Island; it is the second smallest island among the eight Hawaiian Islands. However, I had a connection with this Niihau Island. When we were planning the Pearl Harbor air-raid, I thought that we needed a rescue plan for the crews of those planes which were hit during the attack and unable to make it back to their mother ships. The core of air power is the air crews, and training them cannot be accomplished in a day. It requires 1,000 hours of flight experience for an aviation trainee to become a qualified flier, and that can easily take three full years. We could not afford to and should not lose such capable air crews due to combat damage or fuel shortage, especially during the war.
As I investigated the information available at General Headquarters, I found that the west beach of Niihau Island was flat. That would allow small planes to crash land; in addition, the sea immediately around the beach was deep, offering suitable conditions for our submarines to hide and wait. Additionally, Niihau Island was reported to be pastureland used for grazing cattle, and there were no white people, only three Japanese caretakers and approximately 20 native Hawaiian workers.
I thought that this was an ideal site to accommodate damaged planes. Then, after consultation with Chief of Staff Genda, I asked him to propose to the Combined Fleet’s Command Center that we assign a submarine to hide underwater near the west beach of Niihau Island on the day of the air-raid. The submarine would arrange to pick up the downed crews at night.
The Command Center agreed and issued an order to the Sixth Fleet that was the advance troop. Accordingly, the Sixth Fleet dispatched a submarine belonging to the Third Submarine Troop to Niihau Island on the day of the air attack on Pearl Harbor. Submarine I-74 was assigned for this duty, and she was hiding in the sea area off the west beach of Niihau Island in the event it became necessary to rescue the crews of any crashed planes.
However, the Commander of the advance troop ordered all submarines under his control to change the assault formation at 1:00 pm and have them concentrate at the mouth of Pearl Harbor in order to attack any ships escaping from or coming into the harbor during the air-raid. Therefore, based on the order, Submarine I-74 also left the deployment area near the coast of Niihau Island around 3:00 pm.
Given the circumstances, I myself was not aware of the existence of any crashed plane on Niihau Island during, or after, the war. Suddenly I learned about its existence from the letter from a “sure to win member in Honolulu.” I was shocked. And I was moved by the sincerity of this letter and, as I happened to be on nearby Kauai Island, I decided to visit Niihau Island.
But the next day, July 19th, was Sunday, and I was scheduled to have three assemblies, in the morning, afternoon and at night. So I decided to visit Niihau on the 20th. I was lodging at Masaki’s of Waimea and consulted with the owner, Mrs. Nobuko Masaki. According to Nobuko, the entire island of Niihau belonged to the Robinson family, and they were grazing cattle and breeding turkeys. Therefore, there was nobody living on that island except for workers, and there was no public transportation. She said I could go there by chartering a fishing boat, but it required permission from the Robinson family to land on the island.
Next, I visited the Robinson family in Lihue, the main city on Kauai to explain the situation. The head of the household, Aylmer Robinson, was very understanding and offered me a ride on an empty barge that would be leaving in the morning on the 20th, if I did not mind sharing the ride with cows on the way back. That was very convenient for me, so we went to Niihau Island on that morning in the Robinson Family barge.
In this manner, I came to know what actually happened in what is called the Niihau Island Incident. The story was as follows.
It was shortly before noon on December 7, 1941 when a single-seat small plane crashed on the west beach of Niihau Island. It was close to a camp where approximately 20 Kanakas, or native workers of Polynesian descent, lived. Those natives, who were off work because it was a Sunday, came out in quick succession and with a great deal of curiosity to see the crashed plane. On the plane, there were marks of the Rising Sun on the wings and the fuselage, and there were scars of bullet holes all over. In the cockpit, a half-unconscious pilot sat limply. The natives opened the windshield to rescue him, and took him to the camp to look after him. There, they took care of him, giving him food and drink, but none of them was aware of the Pearl Harbor air-raid at that time.
Before long, one of the natives gave a call to Yoshio Harada, who was a Nisei and manager of the Robinson family estate and caretaker of Niihau Island. He came promptly. At the time this occurred, Harada lived in a resort villa of the Robinson family, almost two miles away from the workers’ camp.
Harada took the Japanese pilot to the villa where he lived. His wife, Irene, was also a Nisei. She sometimes went by her Japanese name and had three small children, but she took utmost care of this Japanese pilot.
The Japanese pilot was named Shigenori Nishikaichi, and he was 23 years old. He was a First Air Petty Officer of the Japanese Navy and from the crew of the Hiryu. His plane was hit and damaged while strafing Bellows Air Base. Because he did not have enough remaining fuel, he knew he could not make it back to the mother ship, so he made a crash landing on the west beach at Niihau Island according to our battle plans in the event a plane was damaged.
Petty Officer Nishikaichi explained what had happened to Harada, who was extremely excited by the story and swore that he would protect him even if the price were his own life. Nishikaichi told Harada that a boat from a submarine would be coming that night to rescue him, so both of them waited all night alongside the crashed Zero fighter. They waited in vain until dawn, but the boat from the submarine never came.
They stood waiting the next night as well, but, again, it was in vain. On the 9th, word of the Pearl Harbor attack reached Niihau Island, and the local workers were very upset. There was even a rumor that the US Coast Guard from Lihue, Kauai was coming to take the Japanese pilot.
However, Nishikaichi told Harada that he could not afford to suffer the disgrace of imprisonment as a Japanese soldier and that he was ready to kill himself before he was arrested. However, he had a huge concern: his gear sack had been taken away by the workers to their camp. He said that it contained a communication code table for the fighters who attacked Pearl Harbor, and if it was seized by the enemy, vital secrets of the Japanese Air Force would be revealed. By all means, Nishikachi said, he must take the code back and burn it before he dies.
Harada soon went to the workers’ camp trying to retrieve the sack, but the workers had by now regarded the injured pilot as the enemy and refused to comply. Harada returned to the villa empty-handed. He then suggested to Nishikaichi that they set the camp on fire and burn the sack with the code table at the same
time. It is said that Nishikaichi smiled for the first time since his crash landing.
Thus, in the early dawn on December 12th, the two put their plan into action. The shabby planked camp soon became a sheet of fire. As they did not want to cause injuries or deaths, they tried to warn the local workers to take refuge and cried, “Fire, fire.” But the workers, who jumped out of the camp in a panic, were extremely furious when they learned that the fire was started by Harada and the pilot. They then tried to attack them. The two men ran, and when they reached the mountains, they hugged each other and committed suicide with their pistols. It was reported that those local workers who chased after them received a reward from the US military authorities, based on the finding that the workers killed Harada and Nishikachi, pelting them with stones as the two enemy fugitives were resisting capture and brandishing pistols.
This, then, was the Niihau Island Incident. Twelve years after these events, I stood at the same place on the west beach of Niihau Island and recollected those days. And I could not repress my tears, thinking how Petty Officer Nishikaichi must have felt, waiting patiently all night for the arrival of the boat from the submarine hiding in the waters near the beach.
Later, I had heard that the spot where Nishikaichi and Harada committed suicide was their burial place, but it was not possible to confirm this. The US Army had dug the soil all around the beach to create trenches after the attack.
Later, together with the cows, I returned to Kauai Island on the Robinson family’s barge and went straight to visit Yoshio Harada’s widow, Irene, who lived in Kapaa.
After she lost her husband, she was interned for three long years in a prison in Honolulu by the US military authorities for treason for having protected the Japanese soldier. During that time, her children were taken care of at an orphanage in the town.
For That One Day: The Memoirs of Mitsuo Fuchida, Commander of the Attack on Pearl Harbor Page 30