But there was another important experience I had in Okinawa, which I’ve always wanted to tell you about, but never could. If this opportunity hadn’t presented itself, I probably wouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s something I’ve never been able to forget, even though it’s painful to remember. I’ve never told anyone and have kept it buried in my heart all these years. Just to let you know in advance, it’s a long story. But I hope you’ll read to the end.
When I arrived in Okinawa, I didn’t join the battle in the south right away. For the first month, I was with a unit that landed in the north. As you know, the fighting in the north ended quickly. The Japanese forces stationed there were poorly armed and couldn’t withstand our assault. However, with all the densely wooded mountains, we had a tough time flushing out soldiers who’d fled to fight as guerillas. Even so, they were holdouts, poorly armed and lacking food supplies. As a result, they didn’t have the strength to carry out any organized resistance.
Even after the battle in the north was over, an intense battle still raged in the central and southern areas. Units needed to be moved to the front lines in the south, so it was urgent that we speed up our mopping-up operations and secure the area. As a result, I became extremely busy with interrogations and dealing with villages and civilians.
During that time, an incident occurred in one of the villages: a young fisherman stabbed and seriously wounded one of our soldiers with his harpoon. I immediately went there to serve as an interpreter under the command of Lieutenant Williams, the MP in charge of the investigation. The fisherman had disappeared, so we questioned the leaders of his village. At the same time, we conducted a search of the mountains.
The villagers were unexpectedly cooperative. Pacifying the locals with medical treatment and food had obviously paid off. The ward chief took the initiative in organizing villagers to help with the search. Consequently, we easily managed to identify the cave in the woods where the suspect was hiding. The ward chief said the youth had acted completely on his own, without any ties to the Japanese army or the village. He told us that the youth’s name was Seiji, that he’d been violent and mentally deficient since childhood, and that he was viewed as being crazy. He explained that the boy must’ve been trying to become a hero by copying other kamikaze attacks. He even apologized and said he was sorry that one of our soldiers had been injured. Such excessively cooperative behavior made us suspicious, but checking against the testimony of other villagers, it became obvious that the guy had indeed acted alone, without any ties to the Japanese army.
Our troops surrounded the cave where the guy was hiding. With about a hundred villagers looking on, I took the megaphone and urged him to throw down his weapons and come out. The ward chief also said some things in the Okinawan language, but the guy still wouldn’t come out. On the lieutenant’s order, a tear-gas canister was thrown into the cave. After about thirty minutes, the guy staggered out while supporting himself with his harpoon. Suddenly, he yelled and raised his right hand. When we saw he had a grenade, we threw ourselves to the ground. Several shots rang out, and the guy fell on his back. Luckily, the grenade was a dud, so we escaped unharmed.
We took the guy to our military post, where first aid was administered. He had been shot in the shoulder and leg, but his life wasn’t in jeopardy. His eyes, though, had been seriously damaged by the tear gas. Because of the grenade, the lieutenant again suspected the involvement of the Japanese army and launched an investigation.
From this point, I’ll refer to the young man by his name, Seiji. We interrogated Seiji to determine whether he’d acted alone or on the orders of the Japanese army. Seiji always mumbled and never gave a proper answer to our questions. He spoke in the Okinawan language, but in a different dialect from my parents, and since he didn’t enunciate his words clearly, I usually couldn’t understand him.
The lieutenant believed that Seiji was resisting. For that reason, the interrogation became rather brutal. We were in the middle of a war, so everyone, including me, got very rough with him. For Seiji, who was already wounded, it must’ve seemed like torture. Even so, he never submitted. To be honest, I was shocked by his stubbornness. At the same time, his appearance disgusted me. With his eyes swollen shut, he mumbled incoherently, as saliva and blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth.
Exasperated, Lieutenant Williams decided to question the ward chief again. With an escort of four soldiers, we rode in two separate jeeps to the village. After parking in the open space in the middle of the village, we went straight to the ward chief’s house. He had been contacted through our patrols, so we weren’t surprised to find him waiting out front when we arrived. The island had been spared most of the shelling, so many houses were unscathed. The ward chief asked us to sit in two wooden chairs under the low, thatched roof. The lieutenant sat down immediately, but I remained standing and told the ward chief to sit facing the lieutenant. He was reluctant to do so and kept urging me to sit there instead. The lieutenant asked what the heck he was doing. After I translated this, the ward chief finally realized he was
