A Tomb Called Iwo Jima Page 4

  The D.I.s were creative in their methods of punishing the teenage boys whose only pleasures were their sparse meals. One morning, a Drill Instructor burst into the barracks, bellowing for the recruits to re-pack their hammocks. "This is sloppy work! Wrap those ropes tighter this time, and do it faster!" The action was repeated several times, with the boys handing their large canvas cocoons to each other in bucket-brigade fashion until they dripped with sweat. They unwrapped and re-slung them, climbed in, and started the process again. After meeting the D.I.'s approval the man told them, "Too bad you tykes fooled around so much with your racks, now we don't have time for breakfast." The recruits' eyes welled up with tears of frustration as the Drill Instructor rubbed salt into their emotional wounds by shouting, "Stow that! Sailors don't cry!"

  In addition to physical training, the recruits' hearts were worked over, too. They were taught a set of five key principles within the 1882 Gunjin Chokuyū (Imperial Rescript). It was set to paper shortly after the samurai class was abolished during the Meiji Restoration of 1868. The Imperial instructions consisted of 2,700 kanji ideograms that governed the serviceman's life, thoughts and actions.5 The following five paraphrased lines were aimed at teaching proper conduct. Each line is labeled as "No. 1" since all of the principles are equally important. Note: gunjin means "military man" and applies to both army and navy personnel.

  1. The gunjin is Loyal (Chūsetsu)

  1. The gunjin is Polite (Reigi)

  1. The gunjin is Brave (Buyū)

  1. The gunjin is Trustworthy (Shingi)

  1. The gunjin is Thrifty (Shisso)

  The recruits learned the precepts by rote by chanting in unison while marching in place, holding their booklets out at arm's length. One particular message was pounded into their heads; never become a Prisoner-of-War. It was a crime that would bring shame on their units, their families and their hometowns.

  Section two; Chapter eight of the Imperial Rescript was entitled, "Value Your Family Honor":

  "He who knows (and thus seeks to avoid) shame is strong. Be vigilant, ever mindful of your family herald crest, making the utmost effort, even unto death, to avoid suffering the shameful crime of soiling your name by being taken alive as a prisoner." (Author's translation from actual WWII Japanese military booklet.)

  The Japanese military was so thorough in the indoctrination of troops that major battles in the Pacific accounted for no more than a dozen prisoners among thousands killed. For example, during the Burma campaign, British Commonwealth and American forces killed 17,166 Japanese while capturing only 142, most of who were incapacitated by wounds, malnutrition or disease.6 In the Guadalcanal campaign from January 1 – February 15, 1943, the US XIV Corps captured only eighty-four Japanese in such poor health that almost half were unable to walk.7 For the first two years of the Pacific War, Allied forces took only 604 Japanese POWs.8

  Communications Training

  Akikusa graduated from boot camp on October 31, 1942, with the rank of Seaman Third Class (Sea 3/c), with orders to report to Yokosuka Tsūshin Gakkō for nine months of training.9 Akikusa found himself in the 64th Cycle of the Navy's Basic Electronic Communication Course.10

  The instructors at Yokosuka Communications School created an environment of rivalry and fierce competition among the young trainees who were evaluated on their performance. The men were graded on a curve, with no two students in the same buntai receiving the same score.

  There were classes on radio operation, the mechanics of short and long wave communication, the effects of atmosphere, sending and receiving Morse code, decoding, and other related topics. During Morse code training, instructors reinforced the seriousness of their jobs as radiomen with a sterning warning, "One mistake in sending or receiving a message could cost the lives of hundreds of men."

  The boys were tested on their speed and accuracy. Akikusa said that coded messages were much harder than in-the-clear messages. With an open message he could guess the meaning of a word even if he missed a single character. With coded messages, the letters and numbers were meaningless until later decoded by a second man.

  To keep their bodies fit there was volleyball, baseball, sumo wrestling and running.

  Into the second month of training, the recruits were given permission to enjoy Sundays away from the base in the homes of volunteer-citizens that were referred to as kurabu (Club) or geshuku. The households that hosted the students usually had a son or husband in the navy, and were eager to do their part for the war effort. The woman of the household was old enough to be their mother and was referred to as "Auntie." Smoking and consumption of alcohol were forbidden.

  Half of the communication school's students would stay on base, and the other half would leave for the day until 5:00 p.m. On Sunday morning, the men would first head to the ever-crowded Shuho (Navy Exchange) to spend their meager pay on stationary, snacks, sweets and clear lemon soda curiously called "cider" though there wasn't a touch of apple used in its creation. Prior to taking their brief shore leave, the trainees received a bentō lunch, carried in a rectangle-shaped aluminum box, so as not to burden the supportive families. The students moved in their ten-man squads as they exited the front gate, nervously hoping their shore leave wouldn't be retracted by the shrill sound of an Instructor's police whistle.

  Once inside the cozy Japanese home, Akikusa said that it was wonderful to lie on tatami straw matting with its sweet grassy fragrance. During their Sunday time off, the boys would read the newspaper, take naps, listen to records, play chess or write letters. "Those Sunday afternoons were wonderful. No one yelled at us, or beat us all day," Akikusa said. As the curfew time drew near, Auntie would have to wake some of the boys who resembled pampered house cats stretched out on the tatami floor. "It's time. I've brought you some green tea," she would say while placing a tray on the floor.

  With strong cups of hot green tea sipped, and gratitude expressed, the future radiomen hurried back to the base. With each step, their bodies grew taut in anticipation of the beatings and deprivation that was waiting. And they didn't have to wait long. One Sunday afternoon, as Akikusa's squad returned to the base, he saw one of the other squads lined up for a beating. The beatings spread like a virus to the other squads who were often punished without ever knowing why. An instructor would enter the barracks and dramatically remove his coat and wristwatch, pull on a pair of white heavy cotton work gloves and grip the club firmly, as if preparing to chop down a tree. The trainees knew what was coming and quickly lined up for their "instillation of military spirit." Akikusa said, "It was cruel and inhumane. Our backsides would be tender for days. Sitting down on the wooden seats during class was so painful it was hard to focus on our lessons."

  As the months passed, the beatings became less severe and more infrequent. Akikusa grew accustomed to navy life and performed well in all of his classes. The future radiomen took several field trips to places of historical or religious significance. One such place was the battleship Mikasa, the flagship of Admiral Heihachirō Tōgō during the Russo-Japan War (1904-05). Another memorable field trip was to Nara's Kinugasa Park to view the 2,000 or so cherry trees that were in full bloom. The Navy told the young sailors that they too, were cherry blossoms, which were the most beautiful when they fluttered to the ground in their peak of perfection.

  With graduation from Yokosuka Communication School fast approaching, the boys spent all of their limited free time studying. No one wanted to be recycled into another training cycle. Prior to completing the course, the future radiomen participated in the customary march through Tōkyō to pay their respects, and receive blessings, at the major military shrines; Meiji Jingu; Miyashiro, and Yasukuni Shrine where the souls of the nation's war dead were said to reside. The march was intended to show the men that they were part of a bigger picture. It was also meant to show respect for those who had come before them. The radiomen were told that someday their souls to
o, would be enshrined at Yasukuni.

  On July 22, 1943, Akikusa joined his graduating class of 728 radiomen and proudly sewed a small round proficiency patch onto his left sleeve. It was a five-petal yellow cherry blossom on a circular dark blue background. The newly minted radiomen posed for a graduation photo.

  Akikusa was ordered to report for duty at Yokosuka's Mutsuai Communications Unit. He would be going with Shōji Kageyama, a fellow graduate from the Yokosuka Communications School. Akikusa felt relieved to be going with a classmate.11 They had been in different training squads, so they took this opportunity to get to know each other and quickly became friends.

  The Mutsuai Communication Unit was situated in a beautiful landscape, with new buildings nestled inside a patchwork of green farms. Akikusa's happiest memory of his time with the Mutsuai Communication Unit was the Japanese version of a USO show came to perform for the radiomen. [10] The entertainers were from Shōchiku Studios in Ōfuna, Kamakura. On a warm Sunday morning, the ringing of "The Visitor Bell" announced the anticipated arrival of the performers. A throng of sailors rushed to welcome the patriotic actors, musicians, singers and comedians who wanted to do their part of the war effort.

  Following the obligatory formal speech by the unit commander, there were dramatic performances, dances, and comedic sketches that left cheeks aching with laughter, and hands sore from clapping. Some of the costumes and irreverent skits were inappropriate for a military installation, and the radiomen ate it up. There was an intermission for lunch, where the sailors got to share a meal with the performers.

  At one point in the afternoon portion of the show, the entertainers invited audience participation, which brought out rousing cheers from the crowd. The radiomen, who were from all over Japan, regaled each other with songs performed in their local dialects. The highlight of the audience participation was the dance by a stern chief petty officer named Akimoto. He came on stage wearing geisha make up, and brought down the house with roars of laughter for his dance performance in drag.

  The following week, Akikusa and his friend Kageyama enjoyed a Sunday pass, which they decided to use to visit Shōchiku Studios for a tour. However, when they arrived at the studio's main gate they learned that tours were by reservation only. The pair explained that they were from the Mutsuai Communication Unit and were then treated like VIPs.

  Shōchiku Studios was in the middle of filming two propaganda movies, Kaigun (The Navy) and Fuchinkan Gōchin (Sink the Unsinkable Warship). It was a wonderful experience for a country boy. "We saw ‘Hollywood magic' and met a couple of beautiful actresses, too," said Akikusa. He wrote home about the experience knowing his parents would be happy for him.

  On November 1, 1943, Akikusa was promoted to the rank of Senior Seaman. He sewed his new rank patch on to his right sleeve; carefully checking several times to ensure it was straight and level.

  PART 2

  Preparing Iwo Jima for War

  Iwo Jima and the Spy

  Tsunezō Wachi graduated from the Kaigun Heigakkō Naval Academy, located in Etajima, in 1922. He enjoyed a twenty-three year career that began as a midshipman on the cruiser Izumi. During his early carrier Wachi attended Gunnery School, Torpedo School and Communication School. Wachi served on several ships; Nagara, Asama, Tama, Naka, the destroyer Yunagi and the battleships Fuso and Mutsu. There were lesser assignments such as the river gunboat Atami in China, the oil tanker Sata and the icebreaker Odomori.

  In 1924, Wachi was the communications officer aboard the light cruiser Tama for the annual midshipmen overseas cruise to the USA. It was on this trip that Japan returned the body of US Ambassador Edgar A. Bancroft, who had died of natural causes, to San Pedro, California.

  In 1926, Wachi was handpicked for the prestigious Naval College, and then studied Spanish at the Tōkyō Foreign Language College.[11] To fulfill their foreign language requirement the officers could also choose to study English, German, French, Russian or Mandarin. Wachi discovered a lifelong fascination with horses during a summer break with the neighboring 1st Cavalry Regiment. Wachi later worked at the Naval Staff Bureau, then commanded a special 25-man intelligence-gathering unit disguised as a communication school in Saitama. This unit grew to include 1,000 men who were recruited for their communication, decoding and language skills. The unit was involved in breaking foreign military codes and designing cryptology. During his career, Wachi was dispatched overseas to various places such as China, Manchuria, Shanghai, Mexico, Columbia, the Philippines and Singapore.

  Tsunezō Wachi was hard working, intelligent, well-connected, and knee-deep in Japan's intelligence gathering activities. While serving as a Naval Attaché for the Japanese Embassies in Mexico and Columbia, he engaged in espionage against the United States. In particular, in Mexico City he was an assistant attaché with the covert mission of spying and decoding US naval messages. Wachi had a staff of three naval personnel who worked undercover as civilians. One of Wachi's radioman stated that Wachi gathered information from a retired US Army colonel who supplied information on US ships passing through the Panama Canal.12 Other information was garnished from a Nazi spy operating in Buenos Aires. In his memoirs, Wachi explained that he chose to codename his operation with the letter "L", because "L" came before "M", and "M" stood for Mexico.13

  On December 7, 1941, Wachi's intelligence team intercepted the famous message, "Air Raid Pearl Harbor. This Is No Drill." Within days, Wachi's spies were able to procure a detailed accounting of US losses, which he forwarded to Tōkyō. As a result of a US-Mexico treaty, Mexican authorities deported the Japanese diplomats, who traveled to New York for repatriation along with Ambassador Kichisaburō Nomura. The Japanese diplomats, military men, businessmen and their families left New York on June 18, 1942, aboard the Swedish vessel Gripsholm. It made a stop in Rio de Janeiro to pick up more Japanese citizens, and then rounded the Horn of Africa for Lourenço Marques (Maputo) in Mozambique.14 Wachi and the others traveled on to Singapore aboard the Japanese transport vessel Asama Maru. From Singapore, Wachi flew back to Japan on August 26, 1942, with military attaché Commander Ichirō Yokoyama.[12]

  Upon reporting for duty, Commander Tsunezō Wachi was dispatched on a fact-sharing mission to Kwajalein, Truk Lagoon and the Marshall Islands to disseminate information about the US Navy to the various naval commands. Wachi remarked in his memoirs that, at the time, he believed the Allies would counterattack through the Philippines only. The information from his spy network made him confident that bases in the Central Pacific, such as Iwo Jima, would largely be ignored by the Allies.

  In 1943, Wachi returned to his intelligence-gathering job with a special communications unit in Saitama. However, he felt the Navy no longer acted on his reports but viewed them passively as "curious news." Wachi wanted to get into the war so he requested a transfer. In February of 1944, his disappointing assignment was to a backwater island called Iwo Jima.15

  Due to new concerns over a possible American counterattack through the Central Pacific, Imperial General Headquarters organized the defense of Iwo Jima. Vice-Admiral Chūichi Nagumo, who headed the newly formed Central Pacific Fleet, placed Commander Tsunezō Wachi in charge of the Iwo Jima Keibitai naval guard Force of 1,362 men that would be joining Wachi from Chichi Jima. The Keibitai had several responsibilities: defend the airfields; build machine gun bunkers and artillery casemate bunkers; and man the anti-aircraft batteries. The transport plane carrying Commander Wachi departed Kisarazu Navy Air Base for Iwo Jima on March 16, 1944.

  At the same time, the Army's 109th Division was organized under Saipan-based General Hideyoshi Obata's 31st Army. With the intention of strengthening Iwo Jima, General Obata ordered 56-year-old Colonel Kanehiko Atsuchi[13] to transfer 4,883 men from Chichi Jima to Iwo Jima on March 20-23.16 In May, MajGen Makoto Ōsuga's 2nd Mixed Brigade from Chichi Jima joined the roster. The Army and Navy were both transferring units to strengthen the defenses of Iwo Jima.

  When
Commander Wachi arrived in March 1944, Iwo Jima was home to about 1,000 civilians. One of those residents was a young boy named Shōzō Ishina. Prior to the war, the civilians led a slow, peaceful life. Supply ships arrived from Tōkyō every three months bringing mail, newspapers, bureaucrats, visitors, rice, etc. The Ishina family ran a small hotel called "Taiheikan Inn" where bureaucrats, students, ichthyologists and biologists would stay during their visits. The family also farmed sugar cane, coca plants and lemon grass. The pre-war inhabitants were a tight knit community with an organized baseball program, and a tennis team complete with uniforms. Ishina's parents were one of the few households with a radio; it was connected to a tall antenna in the yard to receive broadcasts from Tōkyō.

  Commander Wachi's first task was to harden Iwo Jima against air attack and invasion. For starters, the Navy supplied 150 of the 25 mm twin-mount AA machine guns, twenty-eight 5-inch naval AA guns, and a handful of 6-inch naval rifles to be placed in concrete casemates.17 Wachi followed standard operating procedure and placed the guns for a shoreline defense. He admitted he lacked experience in regards to defensive fortifications, and that such an important job was more suited to an engineer. In the end, it wouldn't matter so much where the guns were placed, since he still believed that the Allies would bypass Iwo Jima.

  Soon after Commander Tsunezō Wachi arrived, the Thirty First Army commander, General Hideyoshi Obata, paid Wachi a visit. During the inspection tour, Wachi remarked to General Obata, "It would make my job easier if I had a horse."18 To Wachi's surprise, a week later General Obata sent a supply ship from Guam that carried an unexpected cargo: three horses with saddles and tack; an ample supply of grain and feed; and two enlisted men who were assigned as groomers. Wachi picked a horse for himself, and assigned the other two steeds and their caretakers to a Colonel Watanabe and a Major Oka. One of Wachi's sailors had been raised with horses so became Wachi's attendant. The animals were alive as of mid-July 1944, but their ultimate fate is uncertain.19