“The reservist officer who died today lacked spirit. How could such a man fight a real battle?!” the JG screamed at us, striking the ferrule of his saber cover against the ground. By going out of his way to refer to Ito as a “reservist officer,” he made it clear that he held us all in contempt.
“Anyone who dies in training is a disgrace to the military. How dare he ruin a precious airplane? All of you had better make damn sure it never happens again.”
In our hearts, we were all shedding bitter tears. Was this war? Was this the military? I learned that a man’s life was worth less than an aircraft for them.
It happened then. “Sir!” Instructor Miyabe said. “The late Ensign Ito was an upstanding young man. He was no disgrace to the military.”
The phrase “the air froze solid” was created for moments like that.
The JG’s face went bright red as he trembled with rage. “You damn bastard!” He jumped down from the dais and threw a punch at Instructor Miyabe, who held his ground and withstood the blow. The JG struck again. Blood spurted from Instructor Miyabe’s nose and mouth, but he remained standing.
The JG was short. Even though he was throwing punches with all his might, he couldn’t knock down our instructor, who stood looking down his bleeding nose at the smaller man. The JG’s face scrunched like he was going to cry.
“Ensign Ito was a fine man, sir!” Instructor Miyabe bellowed as loud as the JG.
He gave a jolt. “For an SDO, you are one insolent bastard!” With this, he punched the instructor once more, then spun on his heels and marched towards the barracks. The squadron leader, looking a bit perturbed, said, “Dismissed,” and we fell out of line.
The damage to Instructor Miyabe’s face was fairly severe. His lips were split in several places and blood was running down his face from a cut above his eye.
We were all extremely moved. In our hearts, we all thanked him for defending Ito’s honor.
It was then that a thought occurred to me. If I can protect this man by becoming a kamikaze, then so be it.
I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. One guy actually risked his life to save Instructor Miyabe, in fact.
This happened right after Ito’s death. Instructor Miyabe was leading three reserve officers through a diving drill. Then, as he was flying along at low altitude, four Sikorskys came through a gap in the clouds behind him and attacked.
The air raid siren didn’t sound. The fighters were probably launched from an aircraft carrier in the nearby seas to recon in force. By that point, it wasn’t rare for carrier-based planes to conduct open raids on the mainland. By the time the lookout realized their presence, the fighters were already at low altitude.
Instructor Miyabe had completely let his guard down. Unaware of the approaching enemy planes, he was flying along intently watching over a student’s aircraft that had just gone into a dive.
The Sikorskys rapidly closed the gap. We shouted as loudly as we could, but there was no way our voices would reach the instructor’s plane.
Just then, the Zero of a student reservist who was climbing, having already completed the diving drill, went screaming between Instructor Miyabe’s plane and the approaching Sikorskys. Since the machine guns of the reserve officer’s training Zero were unloaded, he couldn’t fire on the enemy fighters. Even so, his single-minded desire to rescue Instructor Miyabe led him to essentially throw himself headlong at the attacking aircraft.
Two of the four Sikorskys broke away to avoid the trainer plane, but the remaining pair were unfazed in their pursuit. The lead fighter opened fire. It was then that Instructor Miyabe finally noticed and rolled away, but he seemed to be too late.
The reserve officer’s Zero took on the bullets from the Sikorsky. Instructor Miyabe dodged and then fired on the Sikorskys from below. One of them was immediately engulfed in flames.
The other Sikorsky attempted to flee by making a turn and climbing, but Instructor Miyabe was right on his tail. As this was a low-altitude fight, the enemy had no way to employ their favored battle tactic of diving to escape.
The American fighter suddenly pulled a 180 and headed right towards the instructor. Immediately after the two passed each other, the enemy plane’s nose turned down and it started to fall. The pilot didn’t parachute away. He must have been shot in the cockpit through the front windshield. The two other Sikorskys pulled back, retreating high into the sky. Perhaps they were attempting to goad us into pursuing them, but we made no move to follow.
Instructor Miyabe assembled the remaining student planes in the sky, then after a thorough check of the surrounding airspace, allowed them to land. He was the last to touch down. My spine froze when I saw the state of his aircraft—both wings and the fuselage were riddled with bullet holes. I found out afterwards that there’d been a bullet mark just one centimeter away from the fuel tank in one of the wings. Had the bullet struck the tank, no doubt his plane would have gone up in flames.
“I was careless.” Instructor Miyabe’s voice was trembling. His face was ashen. “Who was it that came to my rescue?”
The cockpit of the reserve officer who had shielded him had received gunfire head-on. The windshield had been pulverized, and the instrument panel smashed to pieces. The pilot himself had been struck, but miraculously the injury wasn’t fatal.
Instructor Miyabe ran over to the student as he was carried away on a stretcher.
“Why did you do something so foolish?”
The student, lying on his side on the stretcher, raised his bloodied face. “Sir, you made it.”
“Why were you so reckless back there?”
“Japan needs you, Instructor Miyabe. You must not die.”
My heart filled to bursting on hearing his words. I was painfully aware of how he felt. He was ready to die for Instructor Miyabe’s sake. I felt the exact same.
At any rate, the only word to describe his combat skills was “incredible.” He had shot down the far superior Sikorsky fighters in the twinkling of an eye. The jewel in the crown of the Imperial Navy, I thought.
Yet the Navy didn’t allow him to survive the war.
Soon afterwards, he was transferred along with a number of reserve officers to a base on Kyushu.
I later heard that every last one of the reserve officers died in kamikaze attacks.
Not long after I, too, received orders to go to Kyushu.
I arrived at Kokubu Base in Kagoshima. Looks like my time is up, I thought. But I wasn’t immediately ordered on a kamikaze mission. I was put on standby as part of the kamikaze pilot pool. Other kamikaze pilots sortied in the Zeros we had brought with us.
At the time, near-daily kamikaze missions were launched from Kokubu Base. I saw off many friends there. I always thought my number would be up next. I wrote a will addressed to my parents. I wished for a chance to see them just one more time before I died, but I knew there was no way for that wish to be granted.
After the Battle of Okinawa, Kokubu Base was attacked multiple times by the Americans. We lost a great many aircraft to bombs and ground strafing. I was among those ordered to join the Usa Air Group in nearby Oita Prefecture.
As I was leaving the base, an elderly couple called out to me. They asked after the whereabouts of a certain reserve officer. I explained to them that the ensign had sortied on a kamikaze mission a few days prior. Upon hearing this, the man bowed deeply and the woman crouched down on the ground.
“We’re his parents,” the man said. “We’d heard he was at Kokubu so we came here, but it seems we’re too late,” he lamented.
“He gave us a brilliant smile before he sortied, sir. He flew off, and gave his life like a man.”