Nineteen Years after Leaving His Home Country (by Sanzoh-Shiroh)

　
Nineteen years after leaving his home country --- a memorandum by Mr. Tamio Yoshida, a returnee from Vietnam

As mentioned in the opening of this memorandum, Mr. Yoshida was drafted into the 44th Infantry Regiment, and afterwards battled in southern fields, New Guinea, Malay Peninsula, and Philippines. He had a narrow escape from death in Vietnam when the war ended, and lost his family after getting married there. On March 26th, 1959, as a member of the first batch of returnee from Vietnam, he came his home Kochi Prefecture after nineteen years' absence. He was then 39 years old. The memorandum was written one month after his return.
The memorandum is being posted for him with his permission by Sanzoh-Shiroh, namely, Mamoru Okada

(1) A bugle call in the middle of the night --- southward without knowing the destination

In February 1940, I was drafted into the 44th Infantry Regiment and transferred to the 55th Engineer Regiment to serve as a medical orderly.

Next year, late in October 1941, at around one o'clock a.m. in a chilly night of late autumn, a bugle call woke me up. We stood in a row in battle dress at an open space of the camp, waiting for the order to take the field. Glittering bayonets emitted weird lights into the night sky and strained the midnight atmosphere.

The corps soon left the gate calmly and passed the street of Zentsuji. We reached the port of Sakaide when it was faintly dawning. Shore patrols with a red armband were sternly watching. Black-painted troopships were waiting at the pier.

We knew the purpose of taking the field unconsciously. Some soldiers spoke in an undertone that we would fight with USA soon, but no one could imagine the place and the destiny we were going to encounter. How many people would ever be able to return to the port?

"Once a man goes to the front, he shall not return alive without victory." were the words of swearing when we were taking the fields. We were not allowed to ask the purpose of the war and if it was in the cause of justice. We only believed blindly that it was for peace of the East, the greatest desire of Japanese people, and a serious mission assigned to us. Looking back now, how miserable the destinies that kind of thought brought to the future and nation of our homeland were!

The convoy of troopships took the course to southeast through Kii Channel, having been reluctant to leave mountains and rivers of the homeland finally. Landing exercises were conducted on the way at Hahajima, and winter clothes were changed to summer ones. We navigated further to the south with escort ships and on 8th of December, heard while floating in the Pacific Ocean the report of declaration of the war and victory of the Battle of Hawaii, which raised our morale very much. On 10th of December, we carried out landing on Guam.

We who were as if going through matchless fields became on board of the troops early in January 1942, passed through the equator as the first Japanese troops, made landing on Rabaul at the end of the month, and stayed in Rabaul City for defending. After the days of about two month's occupation, we were attacked from the air almost every day by enemy planes. Retaliation of the enemy seemed to be strengthened day by day at that time already.

In May 1942, we were again on board of the troopships to capture Port Moresby of New Guinea. Here we encountered big battle with the enemy fleet retaliating to us. Our troops were awaiting our fate of death for seven days in the Coral Sea, but fortunately could return to Rabaul again.

Failing in transoceanic operations, our corps stayed for a while in Rabaul until we landed with the troopships in July 1942 on New Guinea(Giruwa) and started marching forward by land. The battle was desperate and a little over three hundred among tens of thousands people in the troops survived and returned to the base. As a survivor of the battlefields, I was deeply affected by the fact how tragic wars are.

Thus the southern corps having failed in the first capturing operation of Moresby again began attacking Moresby by land. The operation, which spanned more than five thousand kilometers by land and required battles in high mountains of four thousand meters above sea level, was indeed foolishly bold. Wearing thirty kilogram equipment, clearing jungles, and crossing rivers under the strong rays of the equatorial sun, our walk a day away was only ten-odd kilometers, and the battle was commenced after we proceeded for more than ten days.

The enemy pitched camps at strategic points of mountains to stop forward movement of Japanese army. As we entered mountain areas, the battles became severe such as two days' march following three days' battle and three days' march following four days' battle. Our fighting power was consumed gradually and goods became scarce. Five cups of rice a day decreased four cups, and three cups afterwards. However, we then believed final victory, advancing across mountains and fields and continuing hard fights. The operation expected for one month was prolonged to two months and to three month. The battle seemed to become increasingly hard.

(To be continued)

　
(2) Comrades disappeared in muddy streams --- drawing back, being surrounded, horrible battles

Three month after we began to proceed, we finally occupied the last mountain through dozens of fierce battles. Moresby city was hazily seen far away beyond the vast plain we were looking down at the top of the mountain. Even the sound of airplane engines of the enemy taking off the airport was heard.

The corps, however, could not afford to take a step forward. Attrition of troop strength, no provisions, no supply of munitions forced us to charge by hand-in-hand combat. The enemy was waiting to exterminate us by assembling large infantry units.

Under such circumstances, retreat order was given to the corps at last, and we continued retreat, crossing mountains again and leaving many dead bodies of comrades. Eating less than a cup of rice a day, and digging potatoes and roots of trees to eat, we retreated while battling against the enemy advancing to us.

In the middle of October 1942, we went down the last mountain and were surrounded by the enemy. We were ordered to "find a way out through the enemy line" but the enemy occupying the other side of the river was stronger than expected, and moreover, the river had risen to require ships for crossing. We had no choice but to cross a tributary and started to retreat along the river. We went downward by clearing jungles and when no way to pass was found, we made rafts by cutting down large trees and went down by riding the stream, struggling with a herds of crocodiles. During the retreat, many comrades were pulled into rapids or became food of crocodiles. General and staff officers moving along with us were also pulled into the rapids and missed. The raft I rode clashed against another raft but I had a narrow escape from death by jumping onto another raft. Two of my comrades missed it and vanished in the rapid.

Landing on the other side, we made a fire and ate leaves of trees to endure coldness and starvation, and at last reached a beach five days later. Contact with our Command was made. We returned to Giruwa where we landed four months ago, and were ordered to fight for our life at the point about four kilometers away from the beach.

Our corps made a camp in the jungle and began fights. Offense and defense between the two parties became harder day after day. Big trees were broken by shells and bombs. The jungle was changed into wasteland. The island many thousand miles apart from home country had no supply with goods. Even the supply of rice was limited to one cup for two days and to one cup for three days and finally no grain was supplied. We dug up roots of trees and picked up grasses near the camp at intervals of severe fights to eat everything edible, and continued fights dragging completely declined bodies.

The rainy season had set at the front and water swept our camp. The battlefields became a wide expanse of sea. Comrades died one by one of the enemy's bullets, starving, and sickness. All of the members including engineers, soldiers in the field hospital, and commander staffs joined the fights to protect their own places. Our company of nearly two hundred persons became a company of only about thirty persons as comrades disappeared gradually. We fought while awaiting the last day which might be today or tomorrow and I did not expect to stand on my homeland alive.

Our corps fighting hard in this way was eventually surrounded by the enemy and nothing could be done. Wounded comrades were sent to the field hospital in name only. There were no medical supplies but beds of logs. The hospital was open-air in the jungle where hundreds of wounded soldiers were taken. Some were dead, some were suffering from the agonies of death, and the smell of dead bodies covered the camps far away. It appeared to be a hell on earth. Imaging my shape to become soon, I thought I could not die even if I really died.

(To be continued)

　
(3) Miserable "escaping march from death" --- Comrades broken down from exhaustion and starvation

The battles for capturing Port Moresby became harder one after another. Fights became severer day by day and eight hundred persons of the first rescue corps were all died as warriors at the landing point. The second corps were sent to the bottom of the sea along with ships. Reports of defeats thus came to our ears one after another. The next year 1943 began and on the New Year's Day, we were given from the headquarters one each of can and cigarette for five persons. It was a wretched New Year's Day having a touch of colors of tragedy that could not be put into words.

The New Year's Day ended in safe, and in a night of mid-January at around nine o'clock, we found that camps of our troops were calm like mirror-still pond. Only singing of insects was heard lonely in the unearthly lacquered dark. Suspecting unusual stillness, our corps tried to make contact at once with our troops in all directions and with the headquarters but both of the troop and the headquarters have went up in smoke already at that time, not leaving even a cat. We learned that the troops have retreated in the previous night.

We twenty-odd survivors soon arranged for departure and started to open a way in the middle of the enemy by relying a compass only.

When we started, there was a conflict of two opinions about the course to escape. Five comrades parted from us to enter in the jungle in the opposite direction. That was the end for them. The commander was completely incompetent in such a situation and we took the lead to the direction we believed. In that way, the party of ten and more persons passed through the enemy's position quietly. It was quite a labor that we went ahead step by step in the jungle with silent footsteps.

Taking a course for northeast in the dark, sneaking under several telephone lines of the enemy, we continued desperate escape. Hearing occasional sound of guns, we slept by binding own bodies on trees with vines. Without any food, we drank water and ate grasses. The battle was also against fatigue and death from hunger.

In the evening of that day, we found footprints of the main force, advanced by following them, and just reached the main force ten days after the start. While it was unknown if the number of victims were some hundreds or not, what we saw were many comrades and officers, with guns on their shoulder or military swords on their chest, laid their thin bodies down on roots of trees or on grasses and died of hunger. If a man once lost power to walk and sat down to sleep as a result of lost battles against fatigue and starvation, he would never wake up again.

I was also attacked several times by the fatigue and drowsiness and became aware of them when I fell down to the ground. Clinging to roots of trees and grasses, I followed comrades and had a narrow escape from death. The main forces of up to tens of thousand were thus just to be annihilated leaving three-odd hundred people at that time. I do not know what had become of the comrades since then.

Remembering that ten thousands of comrades met miserable ends at the Kumusi River basin devoting all their energy to hard battles for sincere patriotism, for peace, and for their home country, I was impressed very much of our return to our homeland in safe.

Without interval of taking a rest, we returned to Rabaul and in August 1943, went aboard troopships again to move from Saipan to Manila and from Manila to Singapore, and reached the battle line of Burma in January 1944.

After having engaged in road works near the border of India, backregions of Arakan Yoma, we kept guard in January 1945 at the lower reaches of Irrawaddy. In April of the same year, we withdrew to Rangoon city as the rebel army of Burma became active. Having made arrangement to pursue the main body of the Northern Burma Army, we moved from Rangoon city to Pegu, advanced north for two days, and came across the main forces of the enemy which were protected by corps of ninety tanks and air forces. After a four hours' fierce battle, we fell into a completely surrounded situation. The enemy headed by tanks rushed in the village. Comrades of our side were killed one after another, and our company commander who dared to escape with forty to fifty subordinates became completely invisible under convergent fires before he run fifty meters in only three minutes or so. We, around eight persons of survivors except the wounded fought for our life in the stifling smoke of powder until seven in the evening, defending our camp desperately. At night, we escaped through the interval of tanks of the enemy with wounded comrades on shoulders. We again had a narrow escape from death and went down for Moulmein.

(To be continued)

　
(4) Indignation over the unconditional surrender --- left behind when working

On August 15th, 1945, our corps was newly formed of survivors from every corps, and was in preparation to assemble by coming down from southern part of Moulmein to French Indochina.

We heard form a staff that the war seemed to have been suspended, but we laughed it away and did not believe. In that night, our corps started by train, heading straight on Thai-Burma Railway for Bangkok, and got off at Thai-Burma border. We learned the change of situation for the first time when we entered in barracks.

We found that the corps guarding the border have thrown down all the weapons and were rubbing out the Imperial chrysanthemum crest. We suspiciously asked "What are you doing?" and they replied casually "Weapons are to be handed to the enemy." Nothing more was clear and we reached Bangkok with a complicated sensation of half in doubt. We heard there for the first time the fact of unconditional surrender of Japanese Army and I felt as if I was crying with resentment surging up from my heart. Having complicated feelings in mind on the fact yet unbelievable, we came to stay at Lomes of Cambodia.

I remember it was August 29th, 1945. A comrade and I went to Phnom Penh City together, following the corps' order to receive medicines. The comrade returned to the corps with partially received medicines and I remained in Phnom Penh to receive the rest.

On the next day, September 1st, I was surprised to see a notice in front of a logistic billet. It read "By order of the headquarters, all Japanese transportation will stop on August 30th, and later within two hundred and forty hours, disarmament will be accepted." I went at once to a station to return but the station was surrounded and guarded by Japanese military policemen and it was not allowed for Japanese soldiers to enter. I decided to walk unfamiliar roads relying only railroad tracks. After walking more than a hundred kilometers, I barely reached the place of corps early in the morning on September 4th. However, there were no figures of soldiers. I was at a loss what to do and saw in open-mouthed surprise the vacant barracks. There was nothing left but littered paper scraps and the empty barracks.

Taking a rest for some time and regaining control of myself, I wandered asking the corps' whereabouts from one village to another. I crossed towns and planes in the foreign country where I could not understand the language. Having lain in a field sometime and slept at a temple in a mountain at another time, I had lonesome feelings and wept over my misfortunes.

Meanwhile I was strayed into a mountain before I was aware. I continued to walk infinite roads for west and east, and north and south, drinking water, eating nuts and berries, being frightened at night by roars of beasts in the near and far distances when I alone made a fire in a valley.

I could not bear to die when I thought of annihilation of the corps, loss of the battle and my fate of loneliness to follow, where I could not stop crying, could not call anyone, could not find God or Buddha to rely on. I had to live alone.

Walking about a month, I reached a temple in a mountain pronounced as "sonkesheet". I was at the limits of my strength and begged food from the temple. Thanks to kindness of the caretaker of the temple fortunately, I could stay at the temple for a while.

Time went by and in a day after six months, there came a Vietnamese peddler who understood Japanese. According to him, Japanese Army was then stationed in Ba Ria of Vietnam. I decided to go to South Vietnam with the Vietnamese, received warm assistance of residents in a country town named Bac Lieu, started to sustain myself by farming, and waited for a chance to meet Japanese Army again.

However, at that time in Vietnam the war between the local people and French Army was broken and I could not move anywhere. As the war became violent, I felt danger even in my personal life. I crossed Mekong River together with refugees of residents and started to sustain myself again at a village in a mountain near the border of Chang Jiang.

The war in Vietnam seemed to expand day after day. Contact with the town was lost and militiamen stood in all the important places on roads with bamboo spears. As the days went on, French planes came to fly over the village. I felt danger again, moved again together with the residents to a place in mountains several hundred kilometer remote in the north, and began to sustain myself by reclaiming a mountain.

(To be continued)

　
(5) Lost my family --- Worked in Hai-phong until return

As the war between French Army and the People's Army of Vietnam became worse, I moved from one place of refuge to another, and could not make my home. Without hope to leave for home then, I decided to create my own future there, took a native for my wife, and had a daughter.

It was in January 1952. I was again overwhelmed with deep sadness. It was a sudden bombing by airplanes of French Army while I was absent for work. My house was burnt with my wife and daughter as victims. Not to mention returning home, there was no safe place. I was again fell down to the depths of misfortune, borne a grudge against Heaven, got angry with Earth, and cursed the war. Soon after holding a funeral with tears, I began wanderings with residents. Since then, for about three years from 1952, there was no place to make my home. I walked through a painful thorny path only to live from one day to the next.

I became a workman in the jungle who sought jobs from one village to another, became a farmer, and made a journey to live that seemed to be endless. During the journey, I caught a fever several times, had a nightmare from malaria and hovered on the point of death, but continued to live thanks to tender heart and love of Vietnamese transcending the difference of race.

Among those painful memories, there are pleasant ones too. When I was in a mountain of central Vietnam, I sometimes went elephant hunting and wild ox shooting with Vietnamese. The thrill when hunting a herd of tens of elephants and excitement when challenging a herd of hundreds of wild ox were invigorating which could not be enjoyed in other areas than southern continents.

One day in addition, I rode on an elephant, controlled it at my will, and went through highlands surrounded by mountains. I forgot my unfortunate fate at those times, but when bivouacked in a pine grove, they reminded me mountains of my homeland Kochi. It wrung my heart to think where to go tomorrow and to see the moon at night through the tops of the pine trees, which I thought all my family in my homeland also might see.

Following the pass of life like that, I unconsciously moved to North Vietnam. In 1955, I worked as a workman of a sawmill in a small town pronounced as "tanbori". The war came to the end and the town was covered with peaceful atmosphere.

In the next year 1956, I heard that workmen were to be employed for construction of a canning plant in Hai-phong and applied at once. Fortunately in August, I was employed there, and from January 1957, I worked there as a worker for assembling machines. My skill was given recognition and I worked there as an engineering inspector until I returned my home country.

The plant was built under grant aid by Soviet Union, and was automated with very modern equipment from Soviet Union and East Germany. Tens of engineers from Soviet Union gave technical guidance for construction and production. As for fishing boats, equipment was provided on a large scale to start full-scale production of fish cans.

Having come to the plant, I first met a person named Takeda, who came from Akita Prefecture, and talked between Japanese after ten and more years' interval. Both of us could not speak Japanese well and speak mostly in Vietnamese.

It was around August 1957. Messrs. Tokumatsu Sakamoto of Japan Peace Delegation and Haruo Okada, a Diet man visited the plant. I was allowed to meet. When I saw them who represented my home country after fourteen years, my yearning was beyond words.

Although I parted from them before I told much because time was short, contacts with my longing country and with my family were made, as Mr. Sakamoto came from the same prefecture as me fortunately. I then moved to tears, thinking how nice it was to be alive.

(To be continued)

　
(6) Straight for my home country by the repatriation ship --- surprised at the different look of Okinawa

While I was working at the plant, the issue of repatriation was becoming noisy and in December 1958, the Japanese Delegation and the Vietnamese counterpart arrived at an agreement in Hanoi. We, the first batch of returnee of nine persons, were gathered in Hanoi on February 2nd, 1959. Having been supported by consistent humanitarianism and friendly affection of the Red Cross Society of Vietnam and Vietnam World Peace Committee, leaving countless memories and traces, we took leave of mountains and rivers of Vietnam, which could be called the second homeland.

Messrs. Miyamoto and Nakamura of the Red Cross, and Mr. Hirota of Japan Peace Committee was on board to attend us. We were intoxicated by the flavor of our home country after nineteen years with miso soup, pickled radish, sushi rolls and so on. We were single-mindedly moved by the nostalgia of our homeland.

On February 8th, we left the last port Cam-pha for Hong Kong. The calm sea became rough gradually and the old ship used for more than thirty years swung ominously. Waves were becoming higher and higher at the offing of Hainan.

On February 11th, the ship arrived in the neon-lit port Hong Kong. With no interval of relaxing, the ship heading for our home country was buffeted by stormy waves. The wind became stronger and stronger, and the ship pitched and rolled like a leaf with uncanny noises as if it would be going to sink.

Three friends of mine had been bedridden for many days without taking foods. Despite of such situation, one of returnee Mr. Teruya was high-spirited and busied himself in taking care of others.

A few days later, the ship at last made her way off Taiwan. Waves made a hall at bottom of the ship and seawater entered into the oil tank, forcing the ship to stop frequently in stormy ocean. Although nobody spoke, everybody in the ship looked worried with gloomy faces.

Even a bad imagination that I might die just before arriving at my homeland came to my mind. The old ship buffeted by stormy waves could not come straight to my homeland but entered in a port of Okinawa on February 21st for refueling, being towed by a tanker. Mr. Teruya brought up in Okinawa was very much pleased in the ship to receive a telegram from his real younger brother who lived in Okinawa. Mr. Hirota of Japan Peace Committee immediately sent a telegram to the government to let him land in Okinawa to go to his brother's home, but the government did not allow for unknown reason.

When I reached Okinawa, what surprised me was tens of jet planes continually flying with uncanny noises spreading all over the island. Several warships like floating castles boasted imposingness, and roaring sounds of bombs dropped were sometimes heard. On top of a mountain, imposing radar site was seen hazily. I was thrown into a really disgusting commotion.

(To be continued)

　
(7) Realities of Okinawa beyond imagination --- departure for new life's journey

The realities of Okinawa we saw were out of our imagination. Seeing the territory of our homeland that was still under the rule of USA, the former enemy of our homeland, I had a sad feeling.

I was received by Mr. Teruya's real younger brother and the families of his elder sisters and heard circumstances of Okinawa in detail, though the time spent was only three hours or so. I could especially imagine Mr. Teruya's mind to some extent when he heard of his parents' death. He seemed threatened by uneasiness when thinking of Okinawa at that time and of his future.

The ship departed at around four o'clock. Mr. Teruya's family waved hands until the ship went out of their sight. I never thought that it was the last parting for Mr. Teruya and his family.

Mr. Teruya after the departure from Okinawa was quite a different man. He spoke little and took no meal. As he was absorbed in deep thought, I asked him "what did you do?" He seemed to suffer alone with a dream that his brothers and sisters had been wiped out.

The ship was sailing calmly through a thin night fog by Goto Islands. Looking forward to landing expected in tomorrow morning, I went to bed. It was about one o'clock in the night. I woke up to do my needs. Mr. Teruya lied awake in his bed and spoke to me when I came back. He asked me if "he may land with a map of Vietnam." Although I thought the question strange, I replied "It's nothing to worry about and you can land with it as your memento." I fell in a deep sleep with no actions.

At around four o'clock on the next day, we were waked up by Mr. Takeda, who came from a cabin in the front, and became aware of Mr. Teruya's absence for the first time. Without any definite idea, I went to the cabin in the front after having a wash. I asked where Mr. Teruya was, but nobody knew. I looked in at the lavatory but he was not. I was caught by gloomy presentiment and searched the afterdeck but could not find him even there.

With an ominous presentiment, I went astern and discovered Mr. Teruya on the upper deck where he had killed himself. I took him in my arms, called everyone with a loud voice, and tried artificial respiration in vain. In this way, Mr. Teruya closed his unfortunate life by his own hands in distress just short of home.

This kind of misfortune could arise from many things, but if the ship were not old and if it did not make a call at Okinawa, the tragedy might be avoided.

Saying good-bye to the struggles for nineteen years and being embraced by warm people and mountains of my home country, I am now going to start a new life.

(The end --- written in 1959)