Authors: Japanese Reaping the Whirlwind: Personal Accounts of the German,Italian Experiences of WW II
Alone in his hospital bed, Kubota’s mind turned once more to his daughter.
24 April: This is for my child, Chizuko:
Small, lovely girl, Chizuko!
I am your father who is lying on a bed in a white gown in a hospital. The hospital is in a town called San Fernando which is 60km north of Manila in the Philippines … As you know I am a soldier, therefore, I do not know when I will be killed. This is the life of a soldier. It is unpredictable whether one dies from illness at any time, or when one is fighting on the front. I have jumped over many death lines and been saved so far. But I would like to tell you now, that I would like you to read this diary when you grow up. And if you want to know more about your father, ask your mother. Your father has been a quick-tempered and simple-minded person. I have mistreated your mother by saying unkind words to her and occasionally being violent. Your father is untamed and ill-mannered, but I would like you to know I am not an animal or a savage. With all of my shortcomings I have a kindly heart and am considered manly. I have been admired and respected by my soldiers … and also my superior officers have been friendly and liked my character. You will see those trophies and the writings which are placed in the Tokonoma [a raised alcove in a traditional Japanese home containing art or family treasures]. They are the records of my fencing contests. I have worked for my training and won in such matters as fencing. I am sure that you will be an athlete like me. I am also good at memorizing. I was in the high school. And you will be good at memorizing too. I am now training myself to be your good father, by correcting my faults as I face them everyday. I was stationed in Manchuria two years before I came to the Philippines. So I have been in battle for two wars … and three years engaged in office work at headquarters. My characteristic is not liking to be inferior to other people in my work. So I have worked hard to do as well as any other person in a contest. Your uncle is a hard worker too. He has studied and succeeded. He is a splendid person. I am sure that you will be a beautiful young woman who will reflect all of our good qualities. Your father has been a drinker of wine, and has given much trouble to your mother by this. But I went to the army soon after finishing high school and never had the opportunity to learn the culture and manners of life which are learned through contact and experience. In other words, I have never grown up with the advantages that many men have had. Yet my heart is not so far from your heart. My desire and wishes are still those of a child. I was raised in a family that had few difficulties through poverty and in happy and fortunate atmosphere. This good fortune of my family is due to your dead uncle’s unselfish assistance. So I wish that you would keep up the best care of your uncle’s grave. My mother rests there too. I have heard beautiful stories about my mother. I lost her when I was very young and my auntie raised me as her own child. She is the most kind and lovely person. I always thought that my auntie was a symbol of the Buddha. If you want to know more about your uncle and auntie, ask Aunt Moyo. She will tell you about them. My dear little Chizuko, you must listen to your mother. Learn from her and grow up to be just like her – a woman, gentle and kind, who is loved and admired by others. Just having beautiful looks does not make a good woman. You must be the possessor of a beautiful character and a good heart. And I want you to be a womanly woman. I always believed that a man should be manly and a woman womanly. This writing is for my daughter, Chizuko. I am writing this, dear Chizuko, from a bed in the San Fernando Hospital.
Your father
Sub-Lieutenant of the Japanese Army
Officers Quarters, San Fernando Hospital
On 18 April General James H. Doolittle had launched an air raid against Tokyo, Yokohama, Kobe, Osaka and Nagoya. His 16 B-25s took off from the aircraft carrier
Hornet
and flew 1,000km (600 miles) to Japan. This mission had been thought to be impossible as the planes were unable to carry enough fuel to return to the carrier. But instead, they flew on and landed behind friendly lines in China. The raid did little damage, but the bombing of Tokyo was seen as a personal attack on the emperor and was a terrible warning of what was to come. Kubota’s hometown Matsuyama, where his wife and newborn child waited, was over 650km (400 miles) from Tokyo. But it was just 65km (40 miles) across the Gulf of Itsuki from Hiroshima.
Meanwhile, the good news was that Kubota was recovering from malaria. He was not going to die ignominiously in hospital. He begged to be sent back to his company, and left San Fernando on 28 April, planning to visit Manila before returning to the front.
29 April: I met Higashiya. He seems well. He found a way for me to have a bath and made me comfortable in many ways. He gave me a watch in memory and in return I gave him a fountain pen made in the USA which has a gold nib. He accompanied me to Manila where I bought a pair of boots which cost me $23.00! I returned to San Fernando by automobile. Higashiya told me that he would probably be sent back to Japan to the main division base. I went to pay my respects to the grave of the late Shima Battalion commander. It recalled so many incidents that sorrow overcame me. We had both been well and in good health when we parted, but now he was in this world no more. At that last meeting we parted forever. I spent the night in San Fernando.
30 April: I went on to Tarlac and met Lieutenant Murai. I tried to locate my squad, but I could not, so I stayed overnight in Tarlac.
1 May: When I started out for Dalmolais, we changed trains and due to some trouble I had to walk 300m with my suitcase on my shoulder. Private Saito looked quite worn out and weak.
2 May: I took the train to Bagio. Many cedar trees were growing there and made me think of autumn at home. This is many thousand metres above sea level and quite cold at night and in the morning. I received supplies from 5 Company and was told that the commander had left here yesterday.
3 May: I took a sight-seeing tour around Bagio. It is a beautiful town. I learned that it had been a resort. The houses are lovely and the streets and gardens well cared for. There were cedar trees and cypresses and many familiar flowers blooming. It was just like home and I felt fine.
4 May: Today I went out shopping. I bought a sweater for my child, Chizuko. Mr Oniwa, who is an army doctor, is from Kurume and was our neighbour when we lived on Rvugae Street. He also bought a sweater for my child. Now she has two sweaters. I am going to put them in my office suitcase [a willow trunk] take them to San Fabian and leave them in the storing place there.
5 May: … As I was resting on the road, someone put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into the smiling, healthy face of a second lieutenant. We exchanged greetings and he went on. Not long after I heard the sound of firing and about 300 soldiers passed me. More shooting followed. It was the sound of our light machine-guns. The fighting had started. ‘To the left!’ The order came through a straight narrow road from the jungle. I stood to the left of the narrow road as a stretcher with a man on it came down. The man’s head was red with blood and he lay motionless. I asked the stretcher bearer in a low voice if the man was injured. He replied in a sorrowful voice, ‘No, killed.’ He was the X Company commander. Not more than five minutes had passed since he had put his hand on my shoulder and we had smiled at each other. I felt my hand and could feel the warmth of his when we had exchanged greetings. Now he was not with us any more. His spirit is somewhere and his dead body lay before me on the stretcher. This is the life of the front line, but how we men feel when one meets death so suddenly!
6 May: Sergeant Major Yazaki reported about the time of our leaving. Today I have a temperature and a headache. Mr Oniwa is having a difficult time with dysentery … My picture has been developed, so I intend to send it home. Mr Fukuzaki wrote me that my daughter is getting big and that her eyes are large and round.
7 May: Seven o’clock in the morning we left Bagio. There is mountain after mountain. All of them stand several thousand feet high. The road cuts across the valley of these mountains and high cliffs hang below and above. It is the most dangerous road I have ever seen. One must shut one’s eyes … It has been made more difficult by the enemy’s demolition work. It is 25RI [Japanese miles] long. We stayed over at the base of Towchi.
8 May: At 8.30 we left and walked about 5RI. We came to a place where a deep cliff invited our fall and death. If I miss one step, I will be at the bottom of the cliff. What makes it more difficult to cross at this point is that the enemy destroyed all the paths. Every step we took made us hate the enemy. We left five soldiers, Corporal Fujiwata and Private Junno to watch our supplies which we could not get through at this point. What would those Americans think if they could see 20 little Japanese passing this point under such a few men’s command? We stayed overnight at the lookout post at Tabatiko. Lieutenant Murai and Sergeant Major Yazaki stayed with us.
9 May: We left Tabatiko. On the way we faced the strong sun and a warm wind and it made us feel miserable. We marched 5RI … and stayed overnight at a house belonging to an American. Many natives came to visit us. All of them were naked except for their red loincloths. I found one English-speaking native and we had a long and interesting conversation. I find that our cultural standards are far past theirs, but I believe that soon they will learn and accept our standards of culture.
10 May: We left at eight o’clock and I found a village after marching 2km. Our 7 Company was stationed here. The company is repairing a hanging bridge which the enemy destroyed before they left. I found Sergeant Major Nishimura healthy and strong. But I leaned that Sergeant Major Yano had become ill and died.
A storm came and we got soaking wet.
11 May: We arrived at Bontock. I met Sub-Officer Hino and Private Ando. Both were well. Ando’s duty here is head sentry. We stayed overnight due to the storm. We heard that Corporal Iishi and the soldiers who went to the hospital are getting better, but Yamaguchi is not critically ill. I fear more the malaria than enemy bullets.
12 May: Private Ando did me a kind service while we were staying here. Hirashi, a medical serviceman, and I left with two American prisoners to join the company, which is 5km west of here.
13 May: The company expects to stay here about ten days longer. The cost of a pig is about 35 yen and we have so little money. The sun is strong and every evening the storm comes, a sign that the rainy season is at the door.
14 May: We have joined the company and the storm has come again. At seven o’clock this evening the American prisoners must be taken to Sabanga. It is such an important task that I decided to take those prisoners myself. We started on the pitch-dark military road which had been damaged by the heavy rain. It was very dangerous from dropping stones and sliding dirt. The bridge had been washed away …
15 May: We could not go on but came back to the Igot tribe. They are so black and wear only red loincloths. We cannot understand their language and we are having a terrible time. We have not eaten since yesterday and now we have to wait until the storm is over to proceed to Sabanga with the American prisoners.
16 May: I hear that a vehicle will come to take us to Sabanga. It has not come. We do not know what to do.
17 May: The Igot tribe, the Americans and our soldiers are living together at this station … The rain falls for 16 hours every day and I am watching this power of nature with no feeling.
18 May: The red loinclothed native men and the under-skirted native women walk in on us. The life of these people is simple. They eat their food with their fingers and have no feeling for sanitation or beauty. Just living is their desire and nothing else. I am so surprised at finding people less sensitive than myself. I begin to feel that I, myself, am at the same level of these people who have no feeling but just to live. It is the feeling about myself since I came into the war.
19 May: Now I am living in the mountains. It is much easier for me to live if the river is clean … Here the river is muddy and yellow. I hope we can leave with the prisoners for our garrison base soon.
20 May: I must stay at this Igot village to give the report to the coming squad. The coming squad has not come. Here I am with the American prisoners and a few soldiers and the natives. Suddenly, Lieutenant Sugano came in. He had been attacked and was being chased by the enemy. My heart understood his foreboding, and I felt sorry for him.
At this point the diary suddenly ends. Although the Americans had surrendered six weeks earlier, Kubota seems to have been captured. In the translated diary in the Imperial War Museum there are drawings showing the advance and the battles described, of the kind that usually accompanied the interrogations of prisoners of war. The translator also included information about Sub-Lieutenant Kumataro Kubota that would not have appeared in his diaries. So perhaps he survived the war. He may even have been reunited with his wife, son and little Chizuko, if they survived the bombing and shelling of Japan in 1945.
On the day Kubota’s diary broke off, Toshio Sato from Ikeda entered Saseho Naval Architecture Department. The following month he left for Truk in Micronesia, and from there went to New Guinea, to be employed as a translator of native languages attached to the navy. He wrote in his diary:
1 July: Reached Lae in New Guinea. In the harbour I saw a steam ship which was sunk, and heard that five others were sunk. Twenty-four of our men were killed by native troops. Many native spies were killed.