When I learned this, I realized that the basic thought processes of the American and Japanese militaries were completely different. VT fuzes were essentially defensive armaments, designed to protect their own side from enemy attacks. Such an approach would never have occurred to our military planners, who had focused purely on developing weapons that could be used in attacks on the enemy. The prime example of this way of thinking was our fighter planes: extremely long flight ranges, excellent air combat capabilities, and powerful 20-mm cannons, but totally deficient in armor…
The ideologies were fundamentally different. From the beginning, a complete contempt for human life permeated the Japanese military’s thinking. That definitely had an impact on the kamikaze squadrons that were used in the twilight of the war.
At the time, the Imperial forces were totally unaware of the VT fuzes. Yet the Suisei bomber crew that survived the battle had instinctively figured out the mechanism.
“They explode right before your eyes. It seems like the shells are somehow made to blow up right when they get close to us,” one of the Suisei bomber pilots who made it back told me. He’d served as a carrier-based bomber pilot since Pearl Harbor, which lent weight to his opinion.
But no matter what the pilots on the front lines said, the staff officers refused to believe in the existence of these mysterious new weapons and simply assumed that the enemy had stepped up their AA fire. However, even if they had acknowledged the existence of the VT fuzes, I don’t think they’d have been able to work out effective countermeasures.
On the very first day of the Battle of the Philippine Sea, into which the Imperial Navy had poured its entire might, we lost over 300 aircraft and two treasured aircraft carriers. In mere hours, our Navy’s fighting power had been nearly obliterated, while the Americans suffered negligible casualties.
On the second day, it was the American task force’s turn to attack us as we tried to flee. An astonishing number of carrier-based aircraft descended upon our retreating fleet. I sortied as part of the intercepting force, but we were totally outnumbered and it was pointless. It took everything I had just to avoid getting shot down by the enemy escort. A dozen or so fighters could never hope to fend off hundreds of enemy bombers.
The Zuikaku was struck by a bomb and received minor damage. That was the first time that particular carrier was hit since the beginning of the war. Yet we somehow managed to escape after losing just the converted carrier Hiyo and two refueling ships.
I was forced to ditch my plane in the ocean and was rescued by a destroyer. I assumed Miyabe was rescued in a similar fashion.
Thus, in a battle where we’d staked everything, the Combined Fleet lost most of its military might, leaving it incapable of striking back at the troops that had landed on Saipan.
After that, most of the Imperial Army stationed on Saipan was annihilated, and many civilians died as well. Hundreds of Japanese threw themselves off of Banzai Cliff and plunged to their deaths. After the war, when I saw film footage taken by American troops showing all these Japanese jumping one after another from the cliff’s edge, I wept uncontrollably. Please forgive me, I apologized over and over.
After returning to the interior from the Mariana Islands, the Zuikaku was docked for repairs. We aviators were temporarily transferred to various military bases for the time being. They granted us a short leave of absence. I don’t remember which unit Miyabe was reassigned to after that, but I do remember the last conversation we had before our parting.
“I’ll be seeing my family for the first time in a while,” he said. “What are your plans, Tanigawa?”
“I’ve only got three days’ leave, so if I go all the way home to Okayama that’ll eat up all my time. I’ll go back there when I get a longer break.”
Miyabe thought quietly for a moment then said, “Is there no one you yearn to see?”
“You mean a woman?”
He nodded.
“Nah. The only women I can meet are comfort women.”
“No one in your hometown?”
“Nope,” I laughed. But then the face of a young girl unexpectedly sprang to mind. “Actually, there was one. A childhood friend. It was just an innocent thing, when we were kids. I’m sure she’s long since married.”
I felt a touch of melancholy. I was twenty-five at the time and had spent the last ten years in the Navy. I didn’t know anything outside the world of the military. I had known no other adolescence.
That was all there was to my conversation with Miyabe, but it was the conversation that would change my life.
I was an instructor for a while at Kisarazu Base near Tokyo, but come autumn I was sent back to the front. It was to the Philippines.
When I received the orders, I was also granted a week-long leave thanks to the transport ship’s schedule. I went back home for the first time in a long while. The townspeople gave me a warm welcome. They had considered me a local hero ever since I had participated in the attack on Pearl Harbor two years prior.
They asked me many questions about the status of the war, which put me in a bad spot. The official announcements made by IGHQ were utter baloney. But the townsfolk believed it, and tried to get me to tell them sensational stories. In the interior there was a surprising lack of urgency. While there were shortages of a fair number of mundane commodities, there hadn’t yet been any attacks on the mainland, so the civilians on the home front weren’t feeling the terror of war.
I couldn’t spill my guts to these people about what had really happened at the Mariana Islands. Besides, I’d been ordered not to speak a word concerning our sea war situation during my leave.
Among the women who came to help out was a beautiful lady. It was Kae Shimada, whom I had known in primary school, the very woman I had told Miyabe about.
“Masao-san, you’ve become such a fine man,” she said.
“You’re too kind,” I barely mustered a reply. I was still a virgin then. I had been invited many times to go to the military brothels, but the truth was that I’d never gone.
“Hard to believe you’ve become a hero of the nation, Masao-san,” she said with a giggle.
“I can’t believe it myself,” I agreed solemnly, which made her laugh all the harder.
“There was that time when I made you cry.”
“I remember.”
That had been in the first grade. Kae had been a strong-willed girl, and one day we’d gotten into a quarrel over something trivial. She’d slapped me about the head until I cried. For a long while after, the memory of that incident made me feel humiliated. So it was very easy to recall.
“But now you’re off shooting down American and British fighters.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you very much for all your hard work on behalf of the country.” Kae placed her hands on the floor and bowed deeply. Then she left the parlor and didn’t return.
All during the banquet, my head swam with thoughts of her. Maybe the alcohol was to blame. Towards the end of the evening I turned to the village mayor and asked, “Is Kae Shimada still single?”
“You’ve taken a liking to her, huh? A spinster, but the village beauty.”
“Is she spoken for?”
“Not that I know of. Why, you want her?”
“Yes,” I blurted out.
“All right, then,” the mayor replied. That was all that was said.
The next day, while I was relaxing at home, the mayor and Kae’s father came for a visit. They spoke to my father and elder brother, and it was decided on the spot that Kae and I would be wed. The rest progressed quickly, and a date was set two days from then for a private ceremony. I was scheduled to return to my post in three days.