My New Affordable Gift Website
Civil War Relics
INTERVIEW WITH THE ‘ANGEL OF DEATH’-SABURO SAKAI
By Colin D. Heaton and Jeffrey L. Ethell
By the time Imperial Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, attacked the Philippine Islands, and brought the United States into the Second World War, Japan’s military was already the best trained and battle tested force in the world. This was especially true of Japan’s elite-the Imperial Japanese Navy pilots, and of these men the IJN fighter pilot was the cream of the proverbial crop.
Saburo Sakai was a most distinguished person, although not simply for his combat record of sixty-four confirmed aerial victories. Sakai never lost a wingman in battle, and he always managed to bring his damaged aircraft home throughout over 200 missions, despite terrible personal wounds and the incredible damage often inflicted upon his Mitsubishi Zero. Sakai became just as much of a legend after the war due to is humanity and friendly demeanor. His book Samurai! was the first memoir to be published by a Japanese veteran and has been a consistent best seller.
Saburo Sakai granted a series of interviews to Colin D. Heaton and the late Jeffrey L. Ethell between 1984-1998, prior to Saburo’s death in September 2000. His exploits have become aviation legend, and his stature as an honorable and worthy adversary during the most brutal period in modern Japanese military history remains intact.
Q: When and where were you born?
A: I was born on August 16, 1916 on Kyushu.
Q: Saburo, tell us about your family.
A: I was the third born of four sons, and we had three sisters, a large family. We had a one-acre farm and house, and my father died when I was eleven, so my mother had it very difficult. My family had been Samurai for over 400 years, and we inherited that tradition of Bushido, which we called the Hagakure, the code of Samurai honor. They served the lords of Saga on Kyushu Island, where we were from. I lost a brother in Burma who was in the army, and another had joined the navy.
Q: Explain what the Samurai were, and the differences in Japanese society.
A: In the old days, really before the Tokugawa period, there were four levels of Japanese society; at the top were the Samurai, which was my family, the same as the noble barons and knights of old Europe.
Q: You had an interesting childhood. Tell us about that.
A: Well, I was not the perfect child, but I was a good student. I was always in fights
and in some kind of trouble.
Q: What was your education like?
A: My primary education was provided by the state; this was standard in Japan, like today, but higher education was private, sort of, and students had to have family support to pay tuition. My family was poor, so this was not possible until my uncle in Tokyo offered to pay. He worked in the Ministry for Communication, a great job, and he offered to adopt me and help out, and this was very fortunate for me as well as my mother. I had always been the best student in my classes back home, but when I began the new school, I was totally out of my depth. They knew much more than I did. It was not long before I became the ‘black sheep,’ since education has always been taken very seriously in Japan. To do poorly brought shame to the family. My uncle was very disappointed, and I spent my summer vacation studying just to catch up. But it was of no use; I felt like terrible. I also began to associate with boys my uncle felt were less than desirable. I began picking fights with the larger boys to make my mark, I guess you would say. But at fighting I was very good, this was clear. But the school called me a problem student, and they sent a letter to my uncle about me. He sent me home, a failure. I was in disgrace. I had let down the entire village; in my country there is no greater shame.
Q: What did you do next?
A: I knew that I had to leave my village; I could not stay there any longer, and I enlisted in the navy when I was sixteen. This was in May 1933. I reported to Sasebo Naval Base for training, which was about ninety kilometers from my village, but far enough away for me.
Q: How was training?
A: I tell you, that even with my harsh upbringing under the code was nothing when compared to what I was entering into. The training has been called the toughest in the world, even when compared to the Germans, even the SS. I have to say that from speaking to you two historians, I have to say that I think our training was the harshest. I know the discipline was completely unparalleled. We were beaten with rattan sticks, severely for even the smallest perceived infraction; dragging a man from his bed and beating him in the middle of the night was common, and the petty officers would not hesitate to do this. I remember sometimes passing out from the blows; the body and mind can take only so much punishment. When a recruit passed out he was covered in cold water to revive him. Also, in order to promote unit integrity, if one recruit made a mistake, the entire platoon would have to receive the same treatment. If any man cried out he was given more ‘discipline.’ We were to suffer in silence, period. Peer pressure was considered the best remedy for correcting errors, and it works. In the military there can be no individuals; teamwork will keep you alive. However, although there were some who were sadistic, there was a method in all of this madness. It made us tough as nails, and in battle this is often the decisive factor. The same is true in business, and in other ways of life. That is why Japan has always been successful in these areas also; the mediocre do not survive long. After the first six months we were completely automated in our manner; we dared not, or even thought about questioning orders or authority, no matter how ridiculous the order. However, one thing I always maintained was my hatred of these petty officers who abused us just for fun.
Q: What was your first duty station?
A: I was assigned duty aboard the battleship Kirishima. The treatment was no better. I wanted to raise my station in life, and attend one of the special schools; being an ordinary seaman was not the life for me. I had no free time; work was long and hard, and the discipline was meted out on ship just as in basic training. I studied all the time, learning more and more. In 1935 I passed the Naval Gunnery School entrance exam, and I was later assigned to the battleship Haruna. This ship had sixteen-inch guns, the largest in the world at that time; this class of battleship would only be surpassed by the Yamato and Musashi, and all the world knew we had the best great ships.
Q: What was your rank at this time?
A: I was a petty officer third class.
Q: How was the Japanese military organized at this time?
A: We had the Army and Navy, which included land and air forces. We had no air force or marines, like in your country. Men were selected from both branches to fill the needs of the military, in every way.
Q: When did you go to flight school, and how were you selected?
A: Well, there were three ways to enter flight school in the early days. Remember that the recruiting method in the time before 1941 was very different after we were at war with your country; and the need for pilots and the quality dropped steeply as the war went on. However, in 1937 when I was selected, there were three ways to get in: Officers graduating from the Naval Academy at Eta Jima, petty officers from the fleet, and young men recruited from the schools who would start their careers as pilots, similar to your ROTC program today. Pilot selection was very strict; the men chosen in 1937 when I was selected were a different breed. The men selected to fly in 1944-45 would not have been qualified to even pump fuel into my aircraft at this time, if that shows you how select the program was. I remember that 1,500 men had applied for training, and seventy had been selected that year. I was one of them, and all were non-commissioned officers from the fleet. This does not include the ensigns coming from the academy; they had their own selection process. That year I do not believe any civilian recruits were chosen, but that would change as the war with America continued. I was twenty years old; I knew that my acceptance into flight school dismissed my previous dishonor, and my uncle and family were so proud of me. The entire village was proud of me. I knew this was my greatest and last chance, and when I reported to Tsuchiura, I knew this was a completely different world.
Q: How was the training compared to your basic training?
A: Our introduction was a shock; martial arts, especially wrestling. Men were ordered to fight, and the loser stayed to fight every man until he won, and each class had over sixty students. If the man lost, and did not win any fights, he had another chance the next day. If he lost the first fight he was washed out; considered unfit for flying duty. Then we had a full month of ground training, classes, then we went into theory, mechanics and tactics, and then we had more classes on everything. At the end of each day we had only two hours to study before we had to sleep. Then it began all over again. Repetition was constant. Pilots were the elite, so there could be no errors, and the smallest error saw students dismissed. The attrition rate was the highest of any military school, and after ten months forty-five of the original seventy men were gone. We had a man removed the night before graduation for drinking. All bars were off limits in training, and even later in the fleet to violate an off limits order could result in severe penalties. Violating an official order was the worst sin.
Q: What were the physical requirements for entry into flight school?
A: The most important thing first of all was eyesight. We had to have better than average eyesight, including peripheral vision, and we were trained to use this vision and identify objects, shapes and aircraft types to the side of us while reading a chart straight ahead. This does not sound difficult, but try reading a newspaper aloud from five feet away while writing down what you see going on to your left or right in great detail. You had only one chance to test for this, and you failed only once.
Q: How did this training help you, if at all?
A: I can tell you that in my 200 combat missions I was only surprised by the enemy on two occasions; I always saw the enemy first, even if they were in the sun or at high altitude. This was the gift that really kept you alive. If a pilot can fly better than anyone else, and can withstand the forces pulling against you in the cockpit, it makes no difference if the enemy sees you first and gets the first shot. I think it was the relaxing of the training standards and this necessary part of the training as the war went on that saw so many young men die at the hands of the very well trained and aggressive American fighter pilots.
Q: What kind of physical training was offered besides martial arts?
A: There were long ‘death runs,’ endless push-ups and sit-ups, and we had to climb a tall pole and hang there, holding our weight on only one hand. This is very difficult, and if you failed to do this for at least ten minutes you were beaten and sent up again. The men who were not washed out could do this for even longer. Then we had swimming training, which was taken very seriously. We had many men from the cities who had never been very physically active and many had never learned to swim. This was an immediate wash out. We had to swim fifty meters in less than thirty seconds. We also had to swim underwater for the same distance, and we were trained to hold our breath for long periods of time. Two minutes was the average for those of us who passed. My best was two and a half minutes. We had to learn to balance on our heads for at least five minutes, and other things like this. We also had to do diving lessons; perfecting our balance and learning how to control our bodies. This was considered important for a fighter pilot. We practiced in water, but after we became proficient we had to do dives from a high tower to the hard ground and land on our feet, and sometimes this was a bad result for students. Acrobatics was just as important as everything else, and failure was common among students. All of these things created a great sense of balance and gave us confidence, which were very important for fighter pilots.
Q: Of the original seventy students how many graduated?
A: We had twenty-five students complete the course. I was awarded the Silver Watch of the Emperor as the number one student. My honor was restored and I knew my family was proud of me. It is also interesting to know that of these twenty-five men I was the only one to survive the war.
Q: How many pilots were created every year at this time? It would appear that the strict standards reduced the potential numbers of qualified pilots beyond reason.
A: Yes, this is true. Only 100 pilots were trained every year until the war with America, when this was multiplied many times, but the pilot quality was very deficient. I think that if the military had relaxed on the brutality and increased focus upon training qualified men we would have had a very different war in the air. We could have never matched the Allies in aircraft production, but it is possible that many more enemies would have fallen to us, and perhaps we would have had more pilots in the air, and numbers matter when you are fighting for your life.
Q: You were first deployed to China, were you not?
A: Yes, but not right out of school. We had additional training in land and aircraft carrier landings at the Naval bases of Oita and Omura in Kyushu, and instrument flying was stressed heavily. This cannot be under-estimated, for it saved my life in 1942 I can tell you. This training lasted three months, although I never flew from a carrier during the war. Then I was sent to Formosa (Taiwan) where we had a base at Kaohsiung. Then I was sent to southeastern China and in May 1938 I had my first combat.
Q: What was that like for you Saburo?
A: Well, the wing commander at Kiukang did not want new pilots flying fighter sweeps, so we all flew ground support missions for the land forces. These were low-level missions, which no fighter pilot wants to do, but you follow your orders. After many days of this kind of thing I was posted to a fighter sweep; this was 21 May 1938. There were fifteen of us, a full squadron, and we were to fly to Hankow.
Q: Which aircraft did you fly?
A: We flew the Type 96 Mitsubishi, which was the front line fighter of the day. People think that we only flew the great Zero, but these were not yet operational. These planes had a fixed landing gear and open cockpits, similar to the Russian I-15. We flew over the airfield at about 10,000 feet and I saw three enemy planes coming up to us. These planes reached us and one came right at me. I was slow to react, and perhaps this was because we flew at that altitude for ninety minutes without oxygen; we carried it but there was only two hours of oxygen so we used it only part time; this seriously hampers your judgment. Then you have the bitter cold hitting you. I was so confused I almost forgot to drop my external fuel tank, but I remembered to stay on my leader’s tail. I then saw the enemy planes, Russian I-16’s with retractable gear; very fast and more powerful than our birds. I then had a Russian in my gun sight and tried to fire, but I had forgotten to release the safety! I did manage to shoot down one of the planes; the pilot was not that good despite his aerobatics. But this was not a great victory since my squadron had covered me and allowed me to score the kill. I was lucky to live through that one, because the fighters then left us after my leader turned into them and attacked. That was it! When I was on the ground my commander called me an idiot and yelled at me, so I was shamed. I would never make that mistake again.
Q: Were you aware of Soviets flying in that part of China?
A: We never learned if they were simply Russian planes flown by Chinese or mercenary pilots, but we knew that others had fought the Russians in Manchuria. I really don’t know. But there were many different aircraft types, and our intelligence knew that there was an international collection of pilots from all over the world flying for the Chinese. This was the same as the ‘Flying Tigers’ later, mercenaries. We recovered the body of one pilot and his papers proved he was American.
Q: What was your opinion of the American fighter pilots?
A: Well, I can tell you that early in the war they were no match for us, not at all, but by 1943 our standards had dropped and the Americans were much better; flying better aircraft with heavier weapons and greater range. American planes could take a lot of damage, but ours could not take but a few minor hits in the cowling and especially the fuel tanks. We did not have self-sealing tanks and armor plate. It was considered a waste of materials to do so, since it decreased range. It was also believed that if pilots had such things they would not be as aggressive.
Q: In your book you mention the fact that pilots did not always fly the same aircraft, but whatever plane was available, and the victories painted on the fuselage did not always reflect the accomplishments of the pilot in the cockpit.
A: Yes, this was true until I went to the Lae Wing later. I think that the young untested pilots may have been spared when enemy pilots saw all of these ‘kills’ on the aircraft. It is psychologically intimidating I suppose. But in some cases I am sure that it was a life insurance policy. Many times I saw enemy fighters just break off contact when several planes were in the air with these kill markings displayed. It is kind of humorous, but it also meant that we had less chances to score victories. I personally never wanted kills displayed on my aircraft, since the Americans sometimes targeted those they knew to be aces.
Q: What about the stories that Japanese pilots were not allowed to carry parachutes in order to make them more aggressive?
A: That was never true. In fact it was a standing order that a pilot must be issued a parachute. We were valuable assets that could not be wasted, at least early in the war. This would change later of course. Whether or not you carried one was often a personal choice. Some commanders ordered pilots to take them, although most of our battles were over enemy territory, and we would never have considered bailing out and being captured. This was the firmest violation of the Bushido code. I flew with the thing as a seat cushion if at all, since the straps reduced range of motion in the cockpit, and flexibility was often your life insurance. However, orders were issued later to where we had to wear parachutes.
Q: When were you first wounded?
A: This was in October 1939 during an air raid, and I has wounded by shrapnel. The surprise attack destroyed most of the 200 planes on the field, and the base was a wreck. I then ran from cover and found a planes undamaged and jumped in. I took off to reach the bombers as they were leaving, and I was the only plane in the air. I reached the aircraft and smoked an engine, but then I had to return to base. My commander lost an arm, and many pilots and crews were killed. It was very bad. Later I was sent to a base close to home.
Q: How was it going to your new command?
A: Well, my new commander was the old one from training, since I was at the same base as when I first joined, and as an enlisted man he always held me in contempt. I would not be allowed to go home until I healed, but the news of my single attack against the enemy bombers made me something of a hero, and I was given great privileges. In November 1939 I received my first permission to take leave and see my family.
Q: How was the homecoming?
A: The entire village was there, including high dignitaries, and my mother, brothers and sisters. They were very proud of me, and I felt that I had redeemed myself in their eyes, and I was shocked at the attention but also very proud. I was then reassigned back to Formosa where I had been before, and this was my first meeting with the Zero. I loved that aircraft, it was powerful for the day, with greater range, speed and weapons; two machine guns and two 20mm cannon, and it was very agile, graceful, like a bird, but a hawk that would kill. I was given my new aircraft, and this was my greatest love.
Q: When was your first combat in the Zero?
A: 1940, just after my arrival. We were flying over French Indochina, what you call Vietnam today. This was a flight of 800 miles, a great distance for us in those days. We had no action then. We would not see active combat again until the next year; it seemed that our enemies did not want to fight with us. It was August 1941 on a bomber escort mission that I actually flew in anything resembling combat in the Zero.
Q: What was that mission?
A: We were escorting bombers that you called the Betty. This was at night, and we rendezvoused with the bombers to attack Wenkiang airfield. We strafed the field just as the sun was rising, it was a lovely morning, and as we saw the Russian fighters trying to take-off. I caught one rolling and blew it up. The ground gunners missed me, and all the planes took their turn. I destroyed another, and when we left every enemy plane was destroyed. It was a great victory. As we were flying away we say an orange bi-plane, and three of my flight mates attacked, but the pilot was very good, and they missed. I tried, and he maneuvered away from me. I caught him as he tried to fly over a mountain, and it was my second victory. We were sent back to Formosa, staging most of the units from Tainan actually, as this was the staging area for the new war we would begin.
Q: This was the preparation for your attack on the Philippine Islands?
A: Yes. We had good photographic intelligence on the air assets, and we knew where all of the installations and aircraft were, or so we thought. We had actually doubled the estimate of aircraft in Luzon.
Q: How did you prepare?
A: We studied aerial photos and flew practice missions; we trained on conserving fuel at various altitudes, navigation, and all these things. The thinking was that if we could fly the 450 miles to Clark Field and 500 miles to Nichols Field and back we would not need our carriers. There were many who did not think this was possible. Even if we were able to fly there and back, making the attack, this would mean that we could not engage enemy aircraft and hope to return due to fuel consumption. Our planes 182 gallons of fuel, average fuel use was thirty-five gallons per hour. With our training most pilots used only eighteen to twenty gallons per hour. Doing the math we could determine that we could fly 900 miles, but would be returning with dry tanks. Navigation had to be perfect, and a headwind would have eliminated any chance of success. As most of this flight was over open ocean, we thought about this. Our planes were designed for about seven hours maximum flying time, but to try and make a ten to twelve hour flight was crazy to us. By reducing power to near stall speed and barely managing to stay in the air we were able to do this. Our 11th Air Fleet was the only such unit without ships.
Q: When did you launch your attack?
A: This was the morning of 8 December 1941, and we started our day at 0200 hours. Our take off was ordered by the commander Saito, but a fog came in and we were delayed. We stayed with our planes waiting, and had breakfast. We received the news of the attack on Pearl Harbor and the Aleutians, and we wondered if the Americans would be expecting us during our attack. Finally at 1000 we were ordered to take off. The mission started badly when a bomber crashed on take-off killing all of the crew. We took off and reached 19,000 feet when I saw a formation of American bombers coming towards our airfield. The Americans always had great reconnaissance and knew where we were. Our orders as the top fighter cover were to attack any aircraft coming towards the base, so we attacked and allowed the others to continue on. Then we saw that these planes were Japanese Army bombers on a routing flight, and no one had informed the navy that they were coming or even in the area. This was almost tragic. We reformed and continued on. When we arrived over Clark Field we were amazed that we had not been intercepted, although there were five American fighters below us who did not attack, and we could not; our orders were to not engage until all of our bombers were in the area. I was also amazed that all of the American planes were in perfect alignment for an attack, and we strafed and bombed, and thoroughly destroyed everything. After the bombers destroyed the base I saw two B-17s and went into a strafing attack. We had already dropped our empty external fuel tanks, and we swept in with guns blazing. My two wingmen and I shot them up, and as we pulled out the five P-40s we had seen jumped us. This was my first combat against Americans, and I shot down one. We had destroyed four in the air and thirty-five on the ground. This was my third air victory, and the first American, but not the last.
Q: That was not the last time you went to Luzon?
A: No, I flew missions the next day, and the weather was terrible, a rainstorm that blinded us. The third day was 10 December and we had twenty-seven fighters on this sweep, and this was when I caught a B-17 that was flown by Captain Colin P. Kelley. This was the first B-17 shot down during the war.
Q: How long did you fly in combat?
A: I flew for five years almost straight, except for the year that I was reassigned or with exception to my wounds, which put me out of action for a long time. I fought the entire war against the Americans, and had fought the British and Dutch in the Pacific before America was involved.
Q: It is true that you never lost a wingman in battle?
A: Well, yes and no. I never lost a wingman when I was flying combat, although my best wingman ever was Honda, who was killed while flying with another flight when I was grounded due to damage to my fighter. His loss was a serious blow to me, and this was while I was with the Lae Wing in New Guinea, in 1942.
Q: You are well aware of the U.S. press accounts of the death of Captain Colin P. Kelly and his B-17: the reports that he sank the battleship Haruna before going down. In your book this misunderstanding is analyzed. Tell us what you remember about that day on December 10, 1941.
A: Yes, I found this interesting, since the Haruna was in Malaya at that time during those operations, and nowhere near the Philippines. Kelly attacked and missed one of our cruisers [of the 4,000 ton Nagara class], but that was his mistake. He was a brave man, do not misunderstand me, and he was in a dive from high altitude when he made his attack. I shot down that B-17 near Clark Field, and his plane crashed into the ground, but only because he and his co-pilot stayed with the bomber until their crew could get out alive. I learned this after the war. That is very honorable. I have to say that this was a very brave pilot. This bomber had attacked our invasion fleet all alone and we saw him 6,000 feet above us. Many Zeros were all over him, but he managed to keep flying and shaking them off in the big plane. A remarkable man I must say. I opened at full throttle to catch him, and this was not easy. Seven fighters from my group all made firing passes, and we all seemed to miss due to the size and speed of the plane. We were no accustomed to attacking such a target and we had to reacquire and compute for our passes. I rapidly estimated the enemy air speed, angle and rate of shallow descent, and made another run. I closed in and fired, then saw white smoke or fuel coming from the right wing; then more poured out as I fired the last of my ammunition. I saw three men bail out at 7,000 feet, and then I lost sight of the aircraft. We were low on fuel and ammunition and had to leave, so we never saw the plane crash, so no kill could be claimed at that time. This would be later and I would be credited with the kill. In the Japanese military pilots did not share victories, as in the American military. The man who was the last to shoot or inflicted the damage resulting in a destruction was awarded the victory.
Q: Where did you operate from after the Philippines?
A: We flew against the Philippines for ten days, and then stood down. Then we were sent to Borneo, the field of Tarakan in the East Indies. We had not been there long when a single American bomber hit us and created a lot of damage, killing construction workers. Lieutenant Kuniyoshi Tanaka and I were ordered to fly night patrols to protect the base, but this was difficult since our planes were not equipped for tactical night flying, but we had no other attacks after this one time.
Q: Whom were you flying against at that time?
A: We had enemy forces operating from Java, mostly British and Dutch Royal Air Force pilots stationed in Indonesia.
Q: What were your missions?
A: Mostly air cover for seagoing transports, but these were at night and we were not equipped for this. Enemy ships and Submarines destroyed these ships and we could do nothing. Also part of the problem was due to the small number of aircraft for the theater of operations. We only had seventy planes for that theater, and after 150 hours each engine had to be overhauled. Also, due to the maintenance we had an average of about thirty planes operational at any time to cover 3,000 square miles, and seven aircraft on any mission was considered a good day. We were outnumbered all the time by 1942. I think this goes back to our discussion as to the limited number of trained pilots. I think that the ridiculous methods at the academies and training schools washed out many young men who would have been fine fighter pilots. It was the same silliness that your military practiced; only allowing officers to fly fighters and bombers. There would have been many more pilots if the US had been like every other country and allowed enlisted men to fly fighters and bombers. That was the same elitist thinking that reduced our effectiveness.
Q: How did you adapt to the four-engine bomber threat?
A: In 1942 we began to see B-17s with the rear gunner position and this made the rear attack dangerous for us. We developed the head on attack, which proved very effective, but then the B-17s came back with top turrets and front turrets in the nose, but still the head on attack reduced the chance of being hit on a quick pass. The first and best pilot to perfect this method was Naoshi Kanno, who scored fifty-two kills, of which at least twelve were B-17’s. We would approach from higher altitude; roll over on our backs and push the stick forward, the rollout during the firing pass. This seemed to throw the gunners off and reduced our exposure time to enemy fire. A good burst in the cockpit was usually enough. Usually the best we could do to protect the troop convoys at sea was to simply attack the bombers, hope for a kill, but force them to drop their bombs early or shake them up. Saving the ships was the primary mission. But the B-17s could take a lot of damage. I once emptied my cannon and machine guns into one making seven passes; large pieces of the plane blew off, and it still flew until my last pass. As I passed by I could see dead and wounded on board. I was credited with that kill a few days later when the wreckage was found near Surabaya. We always sat down and discussed these events, working out tactics to deal with these aircraft. I think the Germans must have had the same problems. I still think about these things; it is difficult to think of doing that to another human, even an enemy. I sometimes feel sorry in my soul, but it was war, and men fight and kill to stay alive and save their nations.
Q: In your book you describe the great air battle over Java that spelled the end of the Allied fleets in February 1942. Tell us about that.
A: Yes. This is interesting, because in no western book have I ever read about this. We had about seventy fighters on both sides fighting in a wild battle, and at the end of it we were victorious. This was what took away the air cover for the enemy fleet and allowed is to destroy them, thus taking the East Indies by March. The enemy fighters were P-40s, P-36s, F2s, and even Hurricanes I think. These were the air forces to repel our invasion of Indonesia, and we had to remove them. On the morning of 19 February [1942] we had twenty-three Zeros taking off to attack the Allied base 430 miles away. We knew the enemy would be waiting for us in strength. We approached at 16,000 feet and over fifty enemy planes greeted us at 10,000 feet over Surabaya. They were ready and they came after us. We were in a wild dogfight instantly, and I snapped onto the tail of a P-36 and ripped his wing off in a burst. The plane spun in and the pilot did not get out. I looked behind and saw that I was clear on my tail, and I saw six planes burning. One of our pilots beat me to another P-36 and he blew it up, while I saw a P-40 tailing a Zero, so I went to help, but another Zero took him out. I saw our pathfinder plane had three Dutch P-36 Curtiss fighters on him, and one of our pilots flashed through the formation and shot down all three enemy planes within twenty seconds. Then a another P-36 passed over my plane and I pulled up, he rolled away, I countered and hit rudder and slipped into his roll, fired a burst, but he rolled out of it. I pulled up and rolled again, hit left rudder and was within fifty feet of him in a left deflection shot. I fired three times and flamed him. This was a difficult victory, the Dutchman was very good. He was a worthy opponent. But we had bad news; our leader. Lieutenant Asai and two other men had been killed, and I saw hi plane explode. We never learned why since there were no fighters around that we could see, very strange. As we departed I saw another P-36 flying low and I went after him. I fired too early and he knew I was there, so he put the nose down and went full speed to try and outrun me. This was over the city proper. The pilot would gave gotten away but he had to pull out into level flight and I was able to catch him with my higher speed. He was approaching the Malang Air Base, hedge hopping and barley missing the tops of homes. I snapped a few cannon shots, until they were dry, but I caught the enemy plane over the rice paddies and ripped his cockpit with my remaining machine gun fire. All twenty remaining pilots flying above me saw this. We returned the next day after the bombers hit the fields, then we roared in but there was nothing to do, really.
Q: Where did you go after that?
A: We were transferred to the Philippines for a while, then to Bali in March 1942. This was a lovely place, and I thought about the beauty of the ware many years after I had left, and the natives were very friendly to us, as we treated them well and they were very supportive of us. I think they had grown weary of Dutch treatment, and they saw us as a kind of relief force.
Q: You had an interesting event with a B-17 there. Tell us about that.
A: Yes, I will never forget this moment, which was almost comical but seriously illustrates some of the incompetence you had to deal with. We were in our bar when a man ran to the window and said that there was a B-17 landing at our field. We could not believe it, so we went outside to look. There it was, coming down for a landing; gear down, engines cut back and flaps extended, landing on our base. I was still in shock I guess when the wheels hit the dirt runway. We thought that it may have been captured and flown there, but one of the Army soldiers fired his machine gun, and the plane was still rolling when the pilot gave it full throttle and roared down the runway. That idiot had cost us the chance to capture and study the plane, a golden opportunity just thrown away. The Army officer in charge apologized to us for the mistake. We learned soon after that the Army in Java had captured a B-17 and we would be able to look at it. This would never happen as the plane was ordered to Tokyo.
Q: It sounds like the Army and Navy were always at odds with each other.
A: This is very true, neither branch hardly ever knew what the other was doing, and this created great problems.
Q: How long did you remain on Bali. For several moths, then we were told we would be rotated home, but then I learned I was not to go, which was a disappointment. I had been overseas for three years. I also missed seeing Fujiko, who was my fiancée then. I asked my commander, Lieutenant Commander Nakajima why I was not to go, and he told me that I was to go with him to our new base in New Britain at Rabaul.
Q: But this decision by Nakajima was a blessing in disguise, was it not?
A: Yes, because all those men who left were later part of the Midway operation, and they were destroyed. It is ironic. Since Rabaul was 2,500 miles away they packed us into a small stinking ship, and many of the men were ill. It seemed kind of ridiculous to risk most of the theater’s best pilots by placing us all on this small ship. The trip took two weeks and I was very ill. We sweated in the terrible heat, and sanitation was a great concern. This was when I met Lieutenant JG Junichi Sasai, who went to Eta Jima, and he took care of me.
Q: That was unusual was it not?
A: yes, the navy had a very rigid hierarchy and caste system; officers never made friends with enlisted men, it was not allowed. But Sasai was a different kind of officer.
Q: How did you find Rabaul?
A: It was the worst place I had ever seen. I appeared to be more of a punishment than a transfer, really. It had an active volcano and sometimes the ground would shake. Then it got worse, as we saw that the fighters were the old Nakajima types we had flown years earlier. The ground was volcanic ash and dust clouds rose easily, covering everything. It was terrible. I was sick still and Sasai took me to the hospital, which was such in name only. Then another omen occurred when B-26 Marauders flew in and attacked the ship we had just left. I saw this attack, and the aircraft had Australian markings. The ship sank and the bombers returned for two more days, bombing and staffing. Many men were killed or wounded, and being out side was dangerous, since the gunners on the bombers shot up everything. Finally our Zeros arrives, brand new, so we took a seaplane to another island 200 miles away and flew them to Rabaul. We had twenty new planes and were ready for action.
Q: Where was your next action?
A: Several of us were transferred again to New Guinea. We were to form the Lae Wing to support the New Guinea operations, and I would spend a lot of time there. We were only 180 miles away from Port Moresby, a great installation where Allied fighters and bombers operated against us, and we were in almost constant combat from the first day. Captain Masahisa Saito took over command.
Q: What made this action different from the others you had before?
A: I would say the bravery and determination of the Allied pilots. They were out classed by us die to our fighters and experience, but they always attacked, never stopped, and were completely oblivious to danger, even when we shot their planes down around them. They must be saluted for their actions, and I respected them greatly.
Q: Was Lae any better than Rabaul?
A: No, It was actually worse, and there was little in the way of support and buildings. The food was terrible; rice and barley with dried vegetables, and this stayed the same for four months. Horrible. To make matters worse the Allies kept bombing us with nuisance raids to deprive us of precious sleep, which was bad, but we were able to handle it. We flew exhausted much of the time.
Q: How soon did you see action?
A: 5 April 1942 we four pilots escorted seven bombers; we lost one plane but hot down two. The next day five claims were made, and so on. It was very active.
Q: How many men were at Lae?
A: We had 200 sailors as anti-aircraft support, 100 maintenance men and thirty pilots, which were twenty NCOs and three enlisted, and we stayed together. The ten officers were in separate quarters. We always had six pilots on morning stand by to take off in case of attacks in just a couple of minutes. Every morning at 0800 there was a patrol over Moresby and the surrounding area and we almost always encountered enemy aircraft.
Q: How did you pass the down time?
A: We had daily exercises to keep fit, gymnastics and runs, that kind of thing. We also had our time for writing letters home and we had a musical group, although we were not that good it helped keep our spirits up. Our morale was very high despite the conditions.
Q: Flew with the best, Nishizawa and Sugita. What were they like?
A: I first met Hiroyoshi Nishizawa at Lae, and he was a strange but very likeable man. He was very tall for a Japanese, about five feet eight inches, and very thin, like you Colin. He was always ill and jaundiced looking since he had persistent malaria, but he was an excellent fighter pilot, very quiet and very brave. He finished the war with around 100 kills. Shoichi Sugita was a totally different person; very shirt, stocky and a party animal as you might say. Both were killed during the war, and both scored more victories than I did. I liked them both very much. There was also Toshio Ota, another party animal and very friendly, always ready with a joke who flew with Nishizawa and I, and we had some great times together at Lae. We called Nishizawa ‘The Devil’ due to his ruthless attacks in the air and his demeanor, which was not unfriendly, just reserved, and he was perhaps the greatest fighter pilot who ever lived. He was also never caught by surprise; his eyesight was very supernatural. He would call out aircraft fifteen or twenty seconds before any of us could see anything; amazing. I saw him do things in a Zero that were aerodynamically impossible on a regular basis. Then there was Takatsuka, the other leading ace at Lae. All were fantastic airmen.
Q: Tell us about your stunt over Port Moresby that almost got you grounded.
A: This became a very famous event. Nishizawa decided that we needed to do something, and he told us of his plan. So after a flight to Port Moresby we decided to do three loops over the Allied airfield. Ota, Nishizawa and I joined our fighters wingtip to wingtip and did three perfect consecutive loops over the field following a dogfight. After we landed we were very proud of ourselves. Then we had a message that the commander at Moresby had sent a letter to out commander, Sasai, describing our stunt, and inviting us back. Sasai chewed us out and threatened us with grounding if we ever did that again. He was just following procedure, but we knew he was secretly proud of us. By the way the letter was signed by many Allied pilots at the base. I think we made an impression.
Q: What was fighting over Guadalcanal like?
A: That was the toughest contest I was ever in such a short period of time. These battles were incredible, and we scored some of our greatest multiple kills there. This was when Nishizawa shot down six aircraft in a day, and Okabe scored seven, landing and refueling three times to keep in the battle.
Q: What were some your more frightening moments?
A: To be honest I was worried when I was wounded and could not see during the Guadalcanal battle. But the one time I was really scared was when I was buried alive during an air raid on our base. I was buried by sand and debris, and the men dug me out, and I thought I was really going to die. That was frightening. A dozen of us were buried when the dugout shelter collapsed, but none were seriously injured.
Q: When did your fighting over Guadalcanal begin?
A: This business started in August, on the 8th I think in 1942.
Q: How did this battle compare with the others you were in?
A: This was a busy time, and there were so many planes in the air, and so much confusion and death. This was the longest-range fighter mission we ever conducted on a regular basis. It was during this first mission that I saw my first American amphibious operation; hundreds of ships, and where there were ships there must be air cover. Then we were jumped by the first six F4F Wildcats I had ever seen. They flashed passed our fighters and went after the bombers, but they failed to score against them, and they avoided us. Apparently they were just interested in keeping our bombers away from the ships, which was working. One thing I did see was a single F4F chasing three Zeros, which was suicide. But the American managed to avoid having our planes turn inside him, and he rolled away from their fire and managed to invert, roll, dive and climb into a counterattacking posture, keeping these three Zeros at bay. This was the most incredible display of flying skill I had ever seen, and this pilot earned our respect. I wish I knew who he was; I would congratulate him on his skill and bravery. This Wildcat pilot was coring hits on every plane, and he finally caught the tail one Zero and was scoring good hits. I saw this. I came down 1,500 feet to help, then this American snap rolled over and turned into me, firing and forced me to roll away. I knew I could turn inside him, so I tried. But then he turned inside me, which was impossible, but I saw it and so had the others! On the fifth spiral and inverted roll I thought I had him, but no, he turned away and rolled under me. I rolled over and cut power, forcing him to overshoot and I was on his tail. I knew I had him again, but somehow he looped and rolled, pulling an Immelman, and then he somehow ended up on my tail! This was the most impossible thing in the world! The he made a mistake. He applied power and tried to flee, perhaps low on fuel or out of ammunition. I raked him, and I saw that his aircraft was already a wreck; full of gaping holes and pieces hanging off of it. If that had been a Zero it would have been a fireball long before this. The fact that he was still flying, let alone flying amazed me. This was a true Samurai warrior, this American! I cut inside his arcing turn and fired into the cockpit, but he kept flying! But then I made a mistake, and I overshot the enemy plane. I knew that I was done for since he was right behind me. But then nothing happened, and I knew he was out of ammunition. I slid my canopy back, and we stared at each other. He was an older man, not young as I would have thought, which explained his flying skill. He was an old veteran. His plane had lost much of its skin; the frame was visible, and the rudder was a skeleton. From cowl to tail there was not an area larger than the size of a grown man’s hand that was without a bullet hole, and he still flew. I could see that he was wounded on the right side of his chest. His fight was over.
Q: Did you score the kill?
A: Yes. This man fought the most difficult and honorable battle I had ever seen, and I respected him. Killing him like that; wounded and unable to defend himself would have been dishonorable. I decided to aim for his aircraft, careful not to hit the pilot. I dropped behind him, and somehow the pilot had the strength to pull his fighter up, probably to bail out. I fired into the engine, which caught fire, and he got out of the plane. I knew he should be all right since he was over his own territory. The parachute opened and he drifted into the beach. This was the day Nishizawa scored six victories. Later after reforming the flight I saw a Dauntless, and this crazy man attacked the four Zeros. His bravery was not to be dismissed, although I questioned his sanity. I dropped behind him and fired, and killed the rear gunner who had fired on me. I fired into the engine and the pilot bailed out. This was my sixtieth confirmed victory, and almost my last.
Q: Describe your wounds after the battle over Guadalcanal.
A: I made a mistake while attacking a flight of Avengers, as I had mistaken them as being Wildcats from the rear. I closed in to less than fifty yards and was in the crossfire of eight aircraft’s defensive gunners. They tore my plane up. I felt that I had been hit by a speeding car; I was stunned and confused. I had steel fragments in my left arm and leg; I was left permanently blind in my right eye, and during the flight back I could not see out of my left. I also had many pieces of American steel that had been pushed into my back and chest, making breathing very difficult. Perhaps the worst was the pieces of the American .50 caliber bullets that were deep in my head. I could feel cold air from where the canopy had been shattered, as were my flight goggles. The controls worked but I could barely see the instrument panel, which had been smashed, and then I could see nothing. I felt nothing in my left leg and foot, only the right worked. I felt nauseas, and I could not move my left hand. I could feel the gash in my head, and knew it was very bad. I was able to place my scarf under my helmet to try and stop the bleeding in my head wound. I knew I was in very bad shape. But I still managed to keep control of the aircraft, and I fought to maintain consciousness. I found myself flying inverted several times, only my instinct allowing me to level out.
Q: What were you thinking during this time?
A: I felt that if I must die I should try and find an enemy ship. If I could crash into one then my death would be meaningful. The I decided to try and get home. I found my chart, and it was covered in my blood. I wiped it off and tried to focus on the map. I tried to see the compass, and finally I made out 330 degrees, which put me heading out into open ocean, so I altered course. I must have been a sight to anyone looking at me. I did fly low near some American ships, and they fired at me, and I could barely see them, but I could hear and feel their shells passing by me. I then climbed. My greatest problem was not passing out. When I reached Rabaul I had to land, and it took me four tries circling the field, then I just dropped flaps and gear. I made it. I felt people lifting me out of the cockpit, and that was all I knew. I remember Nakajima and Nishizawa being there, and Ota helping me in the car that took me to the hospital. I thought my war was over certainly after the doctor spoke to me. I was informed that I would be sent home for further treatment. All my friends and superiors came to see me before they sent me home. That meant a lot to me. I would never see most of them again.
Q: How long did it take you to recover?
A: A long time, almost two years, and I was sure that my flying days were over, but this was not to be. I reported to Yokusuka hospital and they operated on me; eyes and head, scraping and probing, all without anesthesia due to the severity of the head wounds, and it was very painful.
Q: You had sixty victories before this, and you still scored four more after you healed and returned to the air. What was your feeling about having to return to combat?
A: It was my duty, and I never questioned my duty to my country and my emperor.
Q: If you had one event that was memorable, although tragic, what would that be?
A: I remember once we had shot down a B-25 Mitchell and the crew ditched in the ocean. We could see the men climbing to get into their rafts, but the I passed over and saw that they were attacked by sharks. Four men fighting for their lives. The last was a large bald man, and he was fighting this one shark with his knife, then he was pulled under the water. There were about forty sharks all around, very large ones. It looked as if the water was boiling with the activity. It was horrible, not the way a warrior should die. These fish tore them up, and after just a few minutes they were gone. Our boat at Lae had been sent to collect the prisoners once the aircraft had been reported downed. They returned with the bloody life raft, deflated. I have always remembered this. Another time I shot down a P-39 and the pilot bailed out at 150 feet, and his parachute opened just before he hit the ground. I thought this was fascinating, as I had never see anyone survive bailing out below 300 feet, and that was very low, but this man managed to do and still run away from the area. Amazing. Once I saw Ota blow up a B-17, completely disintegrated the bomber and he flew threw the smoke. There was absolutely nothing left of this aircraft, no debris falling to earth, nothing, and the concussion flipped our fighters around in the air. I had to recover control because of the blast. I also shot down one on the same mission, and the same thing happened, and I lost complete control of my aircraft for about half a minute, which is a long time. The flash was so bright I was blinded; I could see nothing for a while. The concussion gave me a nosebleed, and I was partially deaf afterward as well. I recovered and shot down a P-39, then attacked another B-17, but I was hit badly and a piece of metal was stuck in my hand, piercing my glove. I ignored the pain and continued to try and get this other B-17. The Zero had lost a lot of altitude after I lost control and I recovered at 1,000 feet above the water. I snapped a burst into it, as perhaps Ota and Nishizawa, and perhaps others. It crashed into the sea. That was a bury mission.
Q: What was your most memorable duel?
A: Except for the time over Guadalcanal, I would say the day in 1942 when I chased a P-39 Airacobra through the narrow passes of the Owen Stanley Mountains. This was perhaps the best pilot I was ever engaged against, very brave and perhaps crazy. This man was at treetop level, hugging the narrow valley walls trying to shake me, and I was snapping rounds at his, and was still able to maneuver and avoid my shells. We were at maximum speed as well, but finally the mountain wall came at him and he had to pull up, although he half rolled to avoid the top but he did not quite make it and he crashed. That was my first kill without firing a shot also. I barely cleared the ridge and I was soaked in my own sweat after the ten-minute chase. I was physically exhausted. It is hard to explain how tiring aerial combat is, but the adrenaline and blood pumping through your body, your mind always thinking, your eyes always looking, your muscles reacting to every thought and circumstance. I have seen men collapse after landing and have to be carried from their aircraft, even if they were not wounded.
Q: How did you learn of the disaster at Midway?
A: Our propaganda had broadcast a major victory for our forces at the battle on 5 June 1942, but those of us in the know just wondered about this news. We knew something was erroneous since the planned invasion had been cancelled, and that would have only happened if there had been a disaster. It would be some time before the truth came out. Our government decided that false news was better than bad news, which was not an honorable way to conduct a war. I think people should be informed of the truth. Our losses at Midway were truly the beginning of the end for us; our carriers and almost 300 aircraft lost with pilots was something that Japan would never recover from. This was also the time when the standards for flight training began to drop to get enough replacements; although the level of training was reduced I am sure that the level of brutality was not. Our government also was less than accurate about the Coral Sea losses, as both were very bad omens for us.
Q: Where were you assigned next?
A: In October 1942 I was assigned to Sasebo Naval base, where they again placed me in the hospital for recuperation, which lasted for a month. The next month I was promoted to Warrant Officer, and this meant that as an officer I could remain at home during my convalescence. It was good to see my mother and sisters, but all of my brothers were off at the war. This was true for all families.
Q: How did your promotion to the officer ranks change your life?
A: Well, there were far more privileges, and now that I was an officer I had the opportunity to read the secret and top-secret reports that detailed our disasters. They were worse than I had originally thought. It was February 1943 when I learned the truth about Midway and the loss of four carriers, as well as the entire fleet lost at Guadalcanal. It was very eye opening. I knew in my heart that we were not going to win this war the way it was going.
Q: You got into trouble speaking to the press once, didn’t you? Tell us about that.
A: Yes, I was visited by a reporter who wanted an interview with me, since my name had been in the press, and I was considered something of a hero. I was not sure about the wisdom or even the legality of speaking to him, so I called the base information officer. He simply said to use my discretion; there were no regulations against it. That was a mistake. This reporter managed to see my true feelings about the war. My honest opinions on the state of our aircraft and a military as compared to the Americans was intercepted and suppressed by the military in Tokyo. I was ordered to see the base commander, who proceeded to threaten and attack me for what I had done.
Q: What was the punishment you received?
A: None really. I was simply ordered to keep my mouth shut in the future, and I did.
Q: Did you ever see your friends again?
A: Nishizawa came to see me and he informed me that only he and I were left alive from the entire original group; all were dead, and this kind of news makes you think very carefully about your life. But even ‘The Devil’ would die in 1944. I would be alone. Nishizawa was suffering from guilt, I could see that. I think that in today’s world that would be considered a king of post-trauma problem. But back in those days in Japan there was no understanding or tolerance for battle fatigue or mental illness due to stress. It did not exist, and now as I think about this as an older man, perhaps wiser, I see now that he was crumbling inside.
Q: When were you finally released from medical control?
A: This was January 1943 when I was released from the hospital, but I still had appointments to make for check ups. They were concerned about the head trauma, which was understandable. I was sent to Toyohashi, where I met Commander Nakajima again, and this time I was able to ride in the captured B-17 we were told about, and it was marvelous, such a great aircraft. Within a few weeks I was back in the air, flying my Zero. It all came back to me.
Q: This was when you went back to the war?
A: Yes, Nakajima wanted to me to go back to Rabaul with him, but the chief medical officer had other ideas. I really wanted to go. The result was that I was assigned as a flight instructor at Omura Air Base. This was how I was able to witness first hand how the requirements were constantly lowered as younger men were drawn into the training schools. These were men destined to simply die, as the Americans only became better as did their aircraft, and our planes were already outdated by 1943, and most of our best pilots were already dead. In April 1944 I was transferred to Yokusuka.
Q: What was the mood in Japan at this time? Did the people still believe in the government’s propaganda?
A: No, not really. News reports came out, and the people began looking at how close the Americans were getting to Japan. I think that this was the beginning of the end of the popular support for the war, although few would dare say so openly. To lose a war was unthinkable, but to lose and have the government remain dishonest about our situation was unforgivable. This was the mood. Everyone knew that we were on the defensive, and would very soon be fighting for our very homes.
Q: Where was your next assignment?
A: I was ordered to Iwo Jima in the summer of 1944. We all expected an American invasion, but for some reason it never came. Saipan had already fallen so that should have been the next move. The American delay gave our forces plenty of time to erect stronger defenses, and we had nearly a hundred aircraft on the volcanic island when I arrived with our flight of thirty aircraft led by Nakajima. This was the time of our great defeat in the Marianas, where we lost almost all of our veteran carrier pilots. The end result was not good for us. Our bombers would fly out and attack American ships and hit their base at Saipan, and many would never come back, and those that did return were usually badly damaged, as well as the escort fighters. We had no replacements, so every aircraft had to be repaired many times and kept flying. This was a full time job.
Q: How was Iwo Jima compared to the previous assignments at Rabaul and Lae?
A: It is interesting that you never think that you will be placed in any position that could be worse than the others before, and then the fates prove you wrong. Iwo was a terrible place, and offered nothing but a bad feeling. We all had diarrhea because of the contaminated water supply, and the food was terrible. It was hot and there were little comforts. We could take hot baths, but the water was full of sulfur.
Q: How was it flying with a blind eye?
A: I can say that it was difficult. Only twice had I ever been caught unawares by my enemy, and the second time was on 24 June 1944 when we flew from Iwo Jima to intercept an inbound force of American planes. This was also when I first met the new Grumman F6F Hellcat, a very formidable fighter. I shot one down, but I was lucky because I never saw the enemy flight approach on my blind side. My peripheral vision was gone. This was when I took off the straps of my parachute harness so I could turn my head around and see things more. As soon as I did this I saw perhaps six Hellcats on my tail, and I began all of my tricks to throw them off. I was lucky, because I don’t think they had much experience against an experienced fighter pilot. I reduced power, they overshot and I increased throttle and turned right inside them. I was on their tail and I shot down another one, but then there were more on me! I pulled away, rolled over into a dive to get away. Then later I pulled out, but found myself surrounded by fifteen Hellcats, and this was amazing, because these aircraft matched me turn and spiral at every maneuver. No other enemy aircraft I had ever fought could do this, and I learned at that time my old tricks were of no use; this plane could perhaps not turn inside the Zero, but it could pull every other maneuver, and it was faster than our 350 miles per hour and could take much more damage and still fly. What saved me was the fact that these pilots were very new. Had they been the veterans of before I would have been dead many times over. I was in this fight for almost half an hour, me alone against possibly twenty enemy planes, of which I had shot down two and damaged another, but they would not let me go. I must have been something of a novelty to them, given the fact that they had been used to killing inexperienced teenagers. Now it seemed that these were also the same caliber of pilots firing at me from incredible distances. They never had a chance of hitting me. It seemed that they just wanted to keep me in the area, and the law of averages would allow them to win.
Q: How did you get out of it?
A: I headed for Iwo and hoped that the air defenses would provide some cover, and they did, and I headed for a large cloud. I was completely exhausted, and I knew that my days of flying combat were over. Then after I entered the cloud I was in a storm, and this took the controls away from me. I plunged and lost altitude, the fighter falling backward, upside down, and all kinds of crazy positions. Finally I fell below the cloud and was able to locate the airfield and land. When my fighter came to a stop I learned that the entire base watched the battle, and they were certain that I was dead, but when I managed to escape all of the fighters trying to kill me that was when they opened up the anti-aircraft guns. They did not want to run the risk of hitting me by mistake. That was an expensive day for us, despite our victories; because forty of our fighters were lost I battle. But I think that the most ironic thing to happen was the fact that I was in a long combat against all those enemy fighters, yet my Zero did not have a single bullet hole in it. However, the engine was worthless after that. In three battles we were down to seventy-one fighters from eighty and we only had eight twin-engine bombers left. Our force had been wiped out, despite our kills against the American fighters, whose aircraft and pilots seemed to be replaced as if by magic. It was after this that we were given the orders that created the Kamikaze, and those of us who were left were to form these ranks.
Q: What went through your mind when Nakajima read those orders to you?
A: All of us expected to die for our nation in war, and this reality was not a problem for us. Death was expected, as a means to assure victory. But victory could not be assured
Now, and everyone knew it. This was a call to desperation. I could see perhaps a few of us old timers, cripples like myself doing this, but the bright young stars, the one percent who were truly gifted needed to be salvaged, not thrown away. I thought about dying, and the thought of taking a ship for the loss of a fighter and pilot seemed logical. But all the patriotic speeches and ceremonial sake in the world would not change the fact that we were fighting for our lives against an enemy who would ask nor give quarter, just like us. The difference was that they could back up their position with might, and we had nostalgia.
Q: What was the order to the Kamikaze?
A: We were ordered to fly through the enemy fighter screens, refuse to accept battle and locate the largest ships we could find. It was believed that the entire flight should strike a single target for maximum effect, and so it was ordered. But this was a violation of the Samurai code. Bushido never asks a man to simply kill himself, but to prepare to die in battle, and therefore taking his enemies with him, so in this way it was explained. This was the edict of the man who created the Kamikaze, Admiral Takajiro Onishi, who committed suicide at the end of the war.
Q: How did your Kamikaze mission go?
A: Well, those pilots left behind due to a lack of aircraft brought us gifts. We spoke briefly, and the aircraft were fueled up. However my Zero would not start at first, but finally I was able to follow the eight bombers and the few Zeros able to fly.
Q: What kinds of things went through your head at that time?
A: I thought of my family, my mother, my cousin Hatsuyo, and I remembered all of my friends gone from this world. I also began thinking about the best way to attack a ship to sink it; in my mind I was looking at a ship, and I then thought about the fact that no one had bothered to tell us about how to sink a ship. Just to do it! Well we reached 16,000 feet and tried to locate the enemy fleet when a group of Hellcats attacked the bombers. It was impossible to follow our orders not to engage when the enemy was all around us, perhaps twenty or more. They were hitting the bombers, then another group of twenty Hellcats attacked, and the bombers were destroyed. I had to disobey my orders and I fired into a Hellcat, and he went spinning into the ocean. I still had my external fuel tank attached as well, so I remembered that and I dropped it.
Q: Did you find the fleet?
A: No. We managed to shake off the enemy and flew into a storm front. The rain was heavy and visibility was nil. We had only instruments to fly on, and instruments did not locate enemy ships. We dropped from high altitude to only about fifty feet or so, and still we could not get away from the storm. There was no way we were going to find the enemy carriers, our primary targets. I also had the lives of two young men with me who never had a chance at life, and I would take the responsibility of returning to base without accomplishing our mission. Pilot Shiga’s Zero had the cowling torn off by the violent storm, that was how severe it was. The other pilot Shirai was all right. My plane was still sputtering a little from the engine but I was fine. My greatest fear was having to see Captain Muto upon my return. But when we landed Muto, the flight leader of the other section was already back. He felt badly, but he to had been forced back. We all just looked at each other feeling ashamed. We all decided to go into see the Captain together.
Q: That was not the last time you had been selected as a Kamikaze?
A: No. After the 25 October 1944 attacks against the American fleet, which was very successful, the Kamikaze was resurrected, and given special prominence.
Q; What was the next adventure?
A: Well the American navy began to shell Iwo from one side to the other, in addition to the air strikes. The entire island was reduced to ash and splinters; there was nothing left of the few wooden buildings that we used. Hundreds of men were killed in the shelling. The last of our planes were destroyed as well. We had requested more fighters and bombers, but there were none, although we were told that transports would be bringing supplies. A few days later we went to the beach and saw the transports. We were so happy, but then we saw them blow up as American submarines torpedoed them, our hearts sank. We felt all alone at that time. We waited for the invasion, but this was not to be until the following year. The Americans had decided to attack the Philippines, which we did not know at that time. However, this may have been there undoing in the long run.
Q: How so?
A: Well, General [Tadamachi] Kuribayashi moved 17,500 army and 6,000 naval troops onto the island to prepare it for a strong defense. Iwo was completely undefended at this time and could have been taken in a matter of hours by the same sized force that would attack in 1945. All that death would have been avoided, and the war may have even ended sooner I think. We were informed that naval staff officers and pilots were to return to Japan, so we did. They placed us on an old wreck to fly to Japan, but we had to turn back to Iwo for repairs on one of the engines. We repaired the problem and took off again, into a great storm. We made it back without problems.
Q: What was your status at this time?
A: I was promoted to ensign, coming up from the ranks in eleven years, and this had never been done in the Japanese navy before. Most promotions like this were posthumous.
Q: You were married during the war, when was that?
A: That was 11 February 1945 when I married Hatsuyo, my wife.
Q: How would you rate the various types of fighters you flew against, and name them for us please?
A: Well, the older P-40 was not a problem, neither was the P-36. Even the Wildcat was not a problem, except for its six .50 caliber guns and ability to absorb damage. That was the great difference in Japanese and American fighters; your aircraft were designed to keep a pilot alive, whereas ours were designed simply to get the pilot into the fight and have the greatest range available. To lighten our aircraft we removed the radios, an extra 100 pounds or so of gear, to extend that range. This was a detriment in communicating during battle. The Hellcat was a new shock; faster in a dive and climb, as well as maneuverable and powerfully armed. We could turn inside it, but that was our only advantage. Now, the F4U Corsair was also a unique aircraft, which was less maneuverable than the Hellcat but faster. The P-51 Mustang was a type I never fought, but the reports from Army units were not good. The P-38 was also a problem since it operated at much higher altitude and was much faster. Unless we were on the tail of a Lightning and could turn into it there was no hope of emerging successfully.
Q: How did Japan counter the threat of these new aircraft?
A: We developed the Shiden, what the Americans called George as a counter to the Hellcat and as a fighter able to attack the growing numbers of B-29’s attacking Japan. The Shiden was a very difficult plane to fly, and only the experienced pilots could handle it, as I test flew it. The Raiden was the fighter developed to specifically handle the high altitude bombers. This plane had steel armor plate and four 20mm cannon and could fly at 400 mph, and out climb the Zero. But the Raiden was a difficult aircraft to maneuver, and many fell trying to fight enemy fighters once they patrolled Japan. Then I was ordered to report for testing of the new Reppu, and I flew the prototype, and it was the fastest plane in the air at that time. It would out climb and dive anything the Americans had and was ruggedly built, but the Mitsubishi factory building it was destroyed in a bombing raid, so the project was never realized on a mass production scale.
Q: How did the war end for you?
A: heard about the two devastating bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and that was unbelievable. But then we heard that the emperor was accepting the Allied surrender terms, and this was something that was even more surprising.
Q: You had another air battle before the war ended, right?
A: Yes, I had a chance to combat the B-29 formations, and I must say that their speed and altitude were incredible, and their defensive fire was very accurate and heavy. I assisted in the destruction one bomber that crashed in the ocean. This mission was launched after we were ordered to stand down and surrender, so it never went into the official records, but the USAF records recorded the loss over Tokyo Bay.
Q: How was life for you after the war?
A: Very difficult. I was not allowed to hold any public office, or work in any way with the government. I could not work in aviation, these were all conditions imposed by the Allied controllers, and certain provisions had been placed into the new Japanese Constitution. We were considered war criminals. All I did was fly a fighter and serve my country. Yes, that was a difficult time. I was able to start a small printing shop after the war, and in this way I tried to help my former comrades and their families with work, or whatever I could do. It became successful.
Q: You were offered positions in the new Japan Air Self Defense Force, but you did not take them. Why was that?
A: I decided that I had done my duty in the military when it was important, and in my later years I just decided that I needed to stay away from all of that. Life moves on, it is your Karma. You must accept what life gives you and do with it the best you can. There were many ghosts that I thought needed to be kept at rest.
Q: Have you ever had any ill feeling towards the Allies, or the Americans in particular since the war?
A: That would be self-defeating, and would go against my Karma. I accepted the fact that my country was not in the right during the war. Many things have come out about the horrible things done, much like the Germans must feel about their leadership, and the terrible things they went through and must live with. It is not a mater of forgiveness; soldiers who fight and do their best, win or lose should never have to forgive their enemy or themselves. If they did their job the best they could, and lived by a code of honor, then they understand that we pilots and soldiers do not make wars, but we must try and end them.