Comrade of kamikaze pilots says ‘everyone wanted to live'

Asahi Shimbun

2 days ago

MINAMI-KYUSHU, Kagoshima Prefecture—Treated as 'gods' for sacrificing their lives to protect their country and their families, kamikaze pilots have inspired generations of Japanese in the postwar period.
Their photos and farewell letters adorn the walls of the Chiran Peace Museum here, which is dedicated to the pilots and emphasizes their selfless nature.
Kyotaro Tago, 100, who lives in Tsuyama, Okayama Prefecture, has visited Minami-Kyushu's Chiran district and the museum many times and says he is always brought to tears.
Just seeing the portraits of the pilots overwhelms him with emotion, he said.
Eighty years ago in 1945, the final year of World War II, Tago was responsible for preparing the orders commanding missions from Taiwan to Okinawa.
His role was to send off his comrades—'friends with whom I had eaten meals'—on their suicide flights. He said his hands would tremble every time he wrote an order.
The official stance is that the kamikaze pilots were all 'volunteers.'
However, Tago recalls that one of his fellow flight school classmates deliberately inhaled dust in the corners of their rooms to develop lung disease and avoid missions.
Tago also remembers one kamikaze pilot who survived by deliberately steering his plane off course during takeoff, causing an accident that ultimately saved his life.
'Everyone wanted to live,' Tago said.
ESTIMATED 6,000 DIE IN SUICIDE MISSIONS
'Tokko,' short for 'tokubetsu kogeki' (special attack), refers to suicide missions in which pilots or crew members deliberately crash into enemy warships, with no expectation of survival.
Japan resorted to this tactic for the first time in October 1944, when the situation was worsening for the Japanese military in the Pacific Theater. Specifically, 'kamikaze tokubetsu kogeki-tai' (divine wind special attack unit) crashed into an American ship in a battle in the Philippines.
From spring 1945, during the Battle of Okinawa, kamikaze units were deployed from various locations, including Kyushu and Taiwan.
Suicide weapons, such as 'human torpedos' called 'kaiten,' were also developed.
Altogether, an estimated 6,000 people died in these kamikaze missions.
'DEEPLY MOVED'
One day in mid-July, the Chiran Peace Museum was bustling with visitors.
A 33-year-old office worker from Tokyo was deeply absorbed in reading the pilots' neatly written farewell letters.
He said this was his second visit to the museum. During his first visit last year, he said, he felt 'a sense of determination that is missing in many Japanese people today.'
He realized his own decisions about entering university and finding employment had been made somewhat 'haphazardly,' he said.
With that realization, he said his approach to life and work changed significantly over the past year. He even started a new business project within the company he works at.
'I was deeply moved by the way (these kamikaze pilots) gave their lives out of love for their families and country,' he said. 'It makes me feel that I, too, have to live earnestly.'
POSTWAR HONORS
Chiran was the Imperial Japanese Army's largest kamikaze launch base during the final stages of the war.
The Chiran Peace Museum stands on the site of the former Chiran airfield. It attracts up to 700,000 visitors annually at its busiest times.
The museum's exhibits focus primarily on letters and personal belongings left behind by the pilots, highlighting their emotions and thoughts.
Walls are covered with portraits of young men around 20 years old. Their farewell letters include poignant words, such as: 'I am now departing. I truly go forth with joy and excitement,' and 'Tenno Heika, Banzai (Long live the emperor).'
Satoshi Yamaki, a 49-year-old curator, reflected on the museum's history, saying, 'Originally, it was more like part of a shrine or temple than a museum.'
During the war, kamikaze pilots were praised as 'military gods' and 'divine eagles.'
Memorial activities for these pilots began around 1952, after the Allied Occupation ended. That spring, a statue of Kannon (Buddhist goddess of mercy) for kamikaze pilots was erected in Tokyo.
In the following year, a group dedicated to honoring and commemorating the kamikaze pilots was established. Among its founders were former Japanese military officers who had commanded kamikaze operations, including former Navy Adm. Koshiro Oikawa and former Army Lt. Gen. Michio Sugawara.
In 1955, the same group of former military officers enshrined a Kannon statue in Chiran. A town bulletin at the time reported on the statue's consecration ceremony, including a statement from former Army Gen. Masakazu Kawabe, praising the pilots.
'With pure and sincere devotion, as if returning home, they bravely carried out their heroic mission to give their all to surely hit their targets,' the statement said.
KAMIKAZE TOURISM
Changes began to appear around 1970. As former military personnel reached their retirement age, the number of visitors to Chiran increased.
Many bereaved families of the kamikaze pilots also started donating personal belongings.
Town officials in Chiran began to view the kamikaze history as a potential 'tourism resource.'
According to minutes from a Chiran town assembly meeting in 1971, a special committee stated that development of the kamikaze base is the top priority for promoting tourism.
In response to these changes, the town in 1975 established a museum to display kamikaze pilots' relics on the second floor of a rest area in the park.
In 1987, the current Chiran Peace Museum was opened, with the town investing 500 million yen ($3.4 million) in its construction.
Starting in 1990, the museum began hosting peace speech contests, placing emphasis on the pilots' love for their families and their humanity.
Junro Matsumoto, 97, served as the museum's director from 1988 to 1991, and also worked as a storyteller until 2015. He had no military experience but lost a friend in a kamikaze mission.
'I wanted people to know that there were young men who risked their lives to protect their families, loved ones and country,' Matsumoto said.
Some of the exhibits at the museum explain that the kamikaze pilots volunteered for their missions of their own free will.
MUST FOLLOW ORDERS
Tago, the centenarian, enlisted in the Imperial Japanese Army's flight school in August 1944, when he was a student at Kwansei Gakuin University.
When Japan's suicide missions began, he and his comrades were told they would become kamikaze pilots as well.
In January 1945, Tago was dispatched to Taiwan. However, his assignment was at the flight unit's headquarters, where he was responsible for preparing the orders for the kamikaze flights.
He said these young men had no real choice but to follow the orders.
Many testimonies reveal that a facility in Fukuoka city was used to detain kamikaze pilots who failed to carry out their missions.
In Tago's unit, he said, the threat of being 'sent to Fukuoka' was used as a warning to deter desertion.
When Tago sees the neatly written farewell letters of the pilots on display at the museum, the emotions that arise within him are neither admiration nor gratitude—but pity.
'People can't die without a just cause,' Tago said.
Even if the cause was forced upon them, these pilots had no choice but to write about that cause in their letters, he said.
'They couldn't write their true feelings, like 'I don't want to die, but I'm being sent on orders.'
10% SUCCESS RATE
Tago believes that all the pilots likely had a genuine desire to protect their families and country. However, in reality, they were trained for suicide attacks at flight school and sent to the front lines after only a few months.
According to some studies, the Japanese military dispatched about 3,300 aircraft on kamikaze missions, but only slightly over 10 percent of these attacks actually hit enemy ships.
On the other hand, many of the commanders who sent these pilots on their last missions survived the war and lived long lives.
One former army commander wrote late in his life that the kamikaze attacks were 'an outbreak of patriotic sentiment among the people' and 'naturally arose without anyone explicitly ordering them.'
In recent years in Chiran, some popular tours include participants reading the farewell letters of the kamikaze pilots and sharing their thoughts. The tourists use this experience to reflect on how they approach life and work.
Several tour operators run these programs.
'I guess they don't really understand the harshness of the military,' Tago said.