James H. Saito

"Army of Occupation in Japan"

In early September 1945, I boarded a troop transport in Honolulu and sailed toward an unknown destination, After plying the Pacific Ocean for about three weeks, we arrived in the Port of Nagasaki. Our arrival was met with little fanfare. The Pacific Ocean was still under wartime security. There was no assurance that no submarines were lurking in the vast Pacific.

The City of Nagasaki showed little sign of activity. For obvious reasons, hardly any men were visible. The women were undoubtedly warned to keep out of sight. In about a couple of weeks, women were seen standing in line to receive their ration which consisted of "takuwan" and a few kilograms of rice. The government ration was insufficient to feed a family, so they had to travel to the countryside to supplement the meagre ration.

I was dispatched from the 4th Marine Division as interpreter to sit in on the various staff meetings of the Marine Officers and the Council of the City of Nagasaki. There were in-numerable items to cover in the meetings. The most urgent matters were the reconstruction of the roads and government buildings and the re-establishment of utilities, These facilities were devastated by our Atom Bomb which was dropped on the City of Nagasaki on August 9, 1945 in which 40,000 people perished,

We slept in a school building with no electricity. To take a shower under this circumstance was insane. It was so cold that it was impossible to stay under a shower for longer than a few seconds. Because of this cold temperature, we did not perspire which was in away a relief to us because we did not have to worry about offending ethers with our B.O.

There was a USO like any city where GIs were stationed. I befriended a man who was working at the HAMAYA Dept. Store. His name was Mr. Oi. He had two daughters, ages 10 and 12. These girls came to visit me at the USO and invited me to their home. Their home was situated in the valley away from the the impact of the Atom Bomb. It was, therefore, protected from the borb blast. Their home was a one-roam affair which consisted of a kitchen, living and toilet areas. There was no running water plumbing so the b.m. just dropped into a pail, The "potty man" made his daily rounds to haul away the waste in his two-wheel cart. It was unbelievably antiquated. Japan today, however is modernized and enjoying the luxury we Americans take for granted.

I took goodies from the PX such as soap, toothpaste, candies, etc. to them. They had a son who was serving in the Japan Imperial Army. Despite the fact that their city was devastated by our Atom Bomb, they were kind to me and treated me like their own son. We continued our correspondence for five years after the war. However, as Gen. Douglas MacArthur quoted in his now famous "Old Soldiers Never Die - They Just Fade Away", our correspondence met the same fate.

About 12 years after the war, I went on a tour of Japan which included the city of Nagasaki. Nagasaki is well kncwn for its rain. There is a popular song, "Nagasaki wa kyo mo ame".

As we walked with the tour group toward the War Manorial, there was a sudden shower and an umbrella was over my head. I looked to see who it was, and it was a pretty girl in her early twenties, smiling and protecting me from the rain. We continued walking toward the War Memorial chit-chatting along the way. In about three minutes the rain stopped. And just as suddenly as she appeared, she disappeared into the crowd. She went on her merry way - perhaps to her place of employment. Everything happened so fast, I failed to get her name.

I wonder now perhaps she could have been one of the sisters who used to come to visit me at the USO. It would be nice to visits with her again and reminisce about the enjoyable moments we shared. She would be in her seventies today.

My next assignment after Nagasaki was in Tokyo. Although it is more personal, I believe it can be classified under service connected. I was under the command of the Navy Technical Team in Tokyo. I vowed that on my days off, I would find my sister whom I had not see in over 20 years. She had corresponded with my parents in Hawaii prior to the war. Her whereabouts since Dec. 7, 1941 were unknown. Looking for her in the great metropolis of Tokyo was like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack. Only in this case it was like looking for a needle in the vast Pacific Ocean.

I did not know where to begin. There was no public transportation, let alone a taxicab. The most logical step for me was to go to the neighborhood she had resided. My memory has dimmed considerably as this incident occurred some 60 years ago. I don't recall how I got to her place of residence. All I could see was the sea of ashes as far as my eyes could see. This was the result of our continuous bombardment of the city with incendiary bombs. As I stood gazing helplessly at the ruins, I noticed a weather beaten concrete post among the ruins with my sister's name carved on it. Miracle? Yes, I believe in it. No matter how remote the possibility, finding this single piece of evidence, galvanized my drive to go on with the search.

I found out that there was a make-shift office in the neighborhood which was built from rusted roofing metal. The helpers were there to assist people who used to live there prior to the war. They kept the mail, newspaper, the new forwarding address, etc.

After the fifth unsuccessful weekend, I decided to go to Fukushima, my sister's birthplace which is about 200 miles to the north of Tokyo. I shall never forget the train ride as long as I live. There was no special train for the American GIs so I was forced to go on the Japanese National train. We were packed like sardines in the train. There was no room in the aisles to move forward or backward. About halfway to Fukushima, I was overcome with the urge to use the toilet. Since there was noway out, I had to jump out the window at the next train stop. I was worried that if I got off the train, I would never have the time to get back on the train. I had all the goodies for my relatives in the duffel bag. However, after struggling back to the train where I had been standing, I discovered my duffel bag untouched in the same spot I had left it. Despite the fact that they were in such dire straits, nobody had touched the duffel bag. I was profoundly moved by their honesty and decency. I felt proud of my heritage.

Fortunately, the engineer must have seen me alight the train and also noticed me get back on the train. My trip to Fukushima, however was fruitless as my relatives knew nothing of my sister's whereabouts.

Luck was with me on my final visit to the temporary office. The people at the office were waiting excitedly for my return. They had the good news that my sister had came and left her forwarding address. She had evacuated to Fujisawa City not far from Tokyo. After six weeks of agonizing and frustrating search, I was able to find her. Fortunately the episode of my missing sister ended happily. An emotional evening ensued as we burned the midnight oil and bridged the gap of some 20 years.

Although we did not work together, Ben Kawahara, George Inagaki, and Butch Terao served with me in Nagasaki in the Army of Occupation.