In the fifth year of the reign of the Emperor Taishō / At Kyoto Imperial University, in the Medical Department / He sits beside his fellow students, his fellow students here to heal / But he is not here to heal, he is not here to cure / With his knowledge of Western medicines, with his knowledge of Oriental traditions / He is only here to study, he is only here to learn / To study disease, to learn of death
In the Death Factory, the Kwantung Army and, in particular, the Kempeitai had always been concerned about the vulnerability of our water supply to poisoning by Chinese saboteurs. However, from early 1942, this concern seemed to become an obsession and began to consume the majority of our time in Hygiene. It was, though, preferable to the interminable VD inspections.
Each day we would be assigned a different village and sent to check each well in the designated area. We were also required to test the local population for outbreaks or symptoms of anthrax, cholera, typhus and the plague in each location. Often we would be away from the Death Factory for weeks on end.
In the beginning the work was monotonous and generally without incident, though there was always the risk of ambush or attack from Chinese bandits. However, the nearer we worked to the front line or the border with the Soviet Union, the more dangerous our work became. The nature of the work itself also began to change.
On the Black Ship, the Killer finds a job. On 15 September 1947, Typhoon Kathleen strikes the Bōsō Peninsula and the Kanto area. The resulting floods leave over one thousand people dead and hundreds missing and homeless. The affected Ward Offices urgently call for trained staff to assist in the rescue operations and the prevention of disease. The Killer answers their call.
The Killer works tirelessly, day and night, to help prevent the spread of dysentery among the survivors. Finally, here among the dirty flood waters of Saitama and Tochigi, the Killer’s memories begin to recede, his addictions begin to retreat.
But then the flood waters also begin to recede, the threat of disease retreats, and the Killer is summoned to the office of the Director for Epidemic Prevention.
The Killer recognizes the Director. The Director recognizes the Killer. The Director is a sympathetic man, but he is also a practical man. The Director knows that SCAP will not allow him to employ the Killer in a full-time capacity. The Director knows that SCAP require him to forward the Killer’s name and address to GHQ. But the Director is a sympathetic man and he will ignore that order. Instead, the Director thanks the Killer for all his hard work and he gives the Killer a name, an address and a letter of introduction. The Director wishes the Killer good luck and then bids him goodbye.
His professors recognize his dedication to his studies, the superhuman levels of his energy / There is only science, there is only medicine / His professors recognize the brilliance of his mind, the incredible breadth of his knowledge / Only the laboratory, the next experiment / His professors recognize the importance of his research, the frightening potential of his work / There are no ethics, there are no oaths
In the Death Factory, at the end of 1943, I was summoned to a conference. Many unfamiliar and high-ranking men were present. I was told that the hygiene group of which I was in command had been chosen to participate in a series of experiments and trials involving a new, combined vaccine which had been developed within the Unit to inoculate against typhus, dysentery and tetanus.
A senior doctor explained, ‘The procedure for the administration of the vaccine involves the subject ingesting two solutions; first a small dose of the vaccine itself then, after a short interval, the subject should also be given a small amount of water to drink.’ It was believed that water helped the vaccine to disseminate more quickly, with greater effect.
We were now ordered to test the new vaccine in any areas where infections were reported. My examination and treatment team would go out into the villages whenever such reports were received. We would treat all the sick in a village and we would also administer the new drug to the rest of the villagers in order to inoculate them against infection. We would then return to the village within ten or fifteen days to check on the spread of the disease, the rate of infection.
The results of our work in these Chinese villages, however, proved largely inconclusive and, therefore, the trials were abandoned.
On the Black Ship, the Killer has a new job. In a hospital, an animal hospital, on a highway, in Chiba Prefecture. Day after day, the Killer goes to work among the cages and the dogs. Day after day, the Killer puts on his dirty white coat and his dirty white mask, his dirty rubber gloves and his dirty rubber boots. Night after night, the Killer returns to his room and his needle. And night after night, the Killer’s memories and his nightmares also return. Night after night, the familiar smell of bitter almonds. And night after night, day after day, the Killer knows he is dying, little by little, piece by piece.
Science divides, medicine separates / He collects and he catalogues / The strong from the weak, the healthy from the sick / Those of substance and those without, those who matter and those that don’t / He examines and he experiments / There are no patients, there are only candidates
In the Death Factory, in the winter of 1944, I was collected from the examination and treatment centre by a member of the Kempeitai. I was driven to the airfield. I was flown to another airfield. I was driven to an unmarked barracks in an unnamed city. I was taken down a long corridor into a small interrogation room. I was introduced to two other men. These men were not Kempei, these men were Tokumu Kikan. In the room, on the table, was a doctor’s bag.
‘There has been an outbreak of dysentery in a Chinese neighbourhood in the city,’ said one of the men. ‘We have located the source of the outbreak and contained it. However, some businesses and their employees in the vicinity still require disinfection and inoculation. You are experienced in the latest inoculation procedures. You will accompany us to the business premises in the area. You will inoculate the employees. And then you will leave. A disinfection team will follow you. Are these orders clear?’
I nodded. I said, ‘Yes.’
The other man now opened the black doctor’s bag. He took out two bottles, one measuring 20 °CC and marked ICHI, the other measuring 50 °CC and marked NI. ‘These are the antidotes you will administer using the same procedure you have been using to administer the typhus vaccines. This first drug, however, is of a more refined and thus more potent formula. Be sure to administer only the required dose and be sure to have the subjects swallow the dose straight down, without it touching their gums or teeth. Also be sure to wait exactly the one minute required for digestion of the first drug before administering the second drug. Is that clear?’
I said, ‘Yes.’
Finally, the first man said, ‘After you have administered the second drug and the inoculation process is complete, please leave the premises as quickly as possible so that the disinfection team can enter and perform their duties.’
I nodded as the second man put the two bottles back in the doctor’s bag. He then handed me an armband along with the bag and said, ‘Put that on.’
Outside the interrogation room, in the long corridor, I was introduced to my Chinese interpreter. ‘This man works for us and has been fully briefed,’ said one of the Tokumu men. ‘He will explain to the employees what is happening and what they must do. You simply administer the inoculations and then you leave.’