The Sudden Airstrike

I had no idea that
The 10.10 Airstrike was even an airstrike
I could see from above Kawamishi
The bullets being shot from U.S. Forces’ aircrafts
I notified the teacher before
That those airplanes sounded weird
It’s completely different from the planes before
But was I scolded
Not to worry
And continue studying
I saw right in front of me
An aircraft shooting
That’s when the teacher
Told us all to take cover
We covered ourselves with the matting we had
And all hid in the mountains
There was a big air raid shelter
Old men and my father were in really good shape
So they made a great trench
It was so deep that candles would go out of fire
By the time you reach the bottom
The walls were woven
So the humidity wouldn’t come in
It was a really great underground shelter
We didn’t even know that the mountain was burning

Evacuation to Shijiyama (Sugi Mountain)

We were taken to the mountains by Japanese soldiers
They questioned us if we were planning to spy
Because we were staying in the bunker for so long
When we got out, the fire from the warships
Were halfway to the sky getting higher and higher
I remember being told by the soldier to go up Shijiyama
As we walked up the dark road with just the light from the fire guiding us

Living in Shijiyama with Lice

We couldn’t take baths with our clothes on
Because we were girls
Lice fell off from our hair
Stuck on to our clothing and sucked blood
The lice weren’t black
They became red from sucking malnourished blood
You could visibly see them feeding
They sucked in their stomachs

The Surrender, During Nightfall in the Middle of the Mountains

My mother woke me up in the middle of the night
She said, “We’re not taking anything”
I had money in my bag
I had notebooks and books too
I wasn’t going to leave with it
So I carried it
And followed my mother
My mother fell in a riverbed with a child on her back
We cried loudly
Thinking our mother had died
Then my mother said,
“I’m fine. If we’re loud and get caught by the guards, it’s the death penalty”
We stopped crying and pulled our mother out
We ended up in a place called Utaha
When dawn broke
We hid
I think someone put up a white flag when we were hiding
The strait was completely packed
With the U.S. Forces’ planes and ships
The entrance of the ship opened up
And a black man with a gun came out
Everyone was in a panic, screaming
Children here and there were crying
He got a piece of gum out from his pocket and put one in his mouth
He handed gum to people saying, “You, you”
I didn’t eat the gum because my mother told me not to
Because it has poison in it
But he was putting gum in his own mouth
To show us it was safe
Those that had came back from the South Sea Islands
Had seen a black person before so they weren’t surprised
But it was our first time seeing a foreigner
So we all cried
We were then taken to Geruma

Condition of Aka Island upon Return

When we came back, our house was gone
My aunt’s house remained
Though some parts of her house were damaged
We carried an iron plate
And other items the soldiers left
We made something like a kitchen
All on our own

Older Brother Who Suffered Sever Burns from Gunpowder

My oldest brother had died
I think it was the Lunar New Year
When my second oldest brother
Messed with leftover gunpowder from the soldiers
I carried my younger sister on my back
We heard my brother crying
Calling for my mother, my brother had burns
I think it caught fire here, he took off the clothes
And came home crying, with his entire body was burned
My mother wasn’t home
She was out getting clams since we had no food
With my sister still on my back, I tried
Searching for my mother, but couldn’t find her
There was an office for the American troops
Where the current Nunduruchi Shrine is
I had someone I know take us there
To get my brother treated
I didn’t think he would live
Because even his face was black and so much of his body had burned

Memory with My Father

My father went to Hawaii to help with cooking
He was learning how to make soba
When he came back, the rations from the American soldiers
Consisted of only flour and oil
So my father made soba
And fed everyone soba

A Message to Your Children and Grandchildren’s Generation

It’s better to not have wars
I will never be able to forget the painful memories
Because I’ve gone through such hardship
I want to leave my children and grandchildren the memory
That there were grandma’s and grandpa’s like this