A+Japanese+soldier+in+the+Japanese+Imperial+Army+1

 Name: 犠牲の賢さ (wisdom of sacrifice) Age: 18 Gender: Male Occupation: Japanese soldier in Imperial Army- interpreter Appearance: semi-curly black hair, Bright brown eyes, rather slim, slightly tall compared to average Location: Hokkaido Personality/Quirks/Unique Personality Traits: Cautious, polite but aloof Family: Younger sister, aunt Education: High school graduate - University dropout Languages you speak: English, Japanese, Chinese, Russian Your main concerns at this time and in life: Life experience and struggle for truth Portrait (an image that you and we can live with):



July 8, 1937, Hokkaido Coastal Base Nervousness continuously penetrated the corridors of the building and eventually into my room. The funmatsucha (an instant Japanese green tea) beside my desk has long been cold. Sirens alarmed throughout the port, with an occasional shouts of commanders. Started by last night’s crossfire in the vicinity of China, Great Japan has entered a second full scale war with Sino, turning several Western powers- USSR, Great Britain, and the United States- to be potential enemies. Although we are fighting a promising war at this moment, I worry that we might have overlooked the degree of reaction in the international field. On the other hand, the successful aftermath of this war will doubtlessly augment the authority of Tenno, placing Great Japan as a dominant representative of Asia. //Why does all this matter to me? //  Rather an irrelevant question suddenly popped out of blue, but I did not make effort to resist answering. Unlike many other soldiers who were called by the government, I enlisted voluntarily despite the physical incapability that disqualified me to be a frontline soldier. Since my physical traits were not up to standards, my only option was to be an assistant of the army. After looking at the brief registration form I filled out, the recruiter treated me in an especially polite manner from the start, most likely because I am fluent in four different languages - Russian, English, Chinese (as a half Chinese), and Japanese. Anyone would question, ‘why waste such gift in a place full of sufferings and miseries?’ When I left my hometown, the villagers pitied my family for having a thoughtless son who could have obtained a high respect as a doctor in the region. Yes, I could have enjoyed a peaceful and wealthy life with my aptitude alone. Then why do so? Because I have been overwhelmed by the endless looping of forged tranquility under such ignorance which the village considered to be reality. One must struggle for life, for the ultimate survival of body and soul. There was no joy without misery, and in that village of dead minds there was no space for such simple truth.

December 6th, 1941, Washington D.C. It’s been roughly four years since I joined the army. My contributions to the army at the aftermath-negotiation at the Battle of Lake Khasan in Soviet Union has paid off to the extent that I became an interpretive officer under the command of Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto. I was soon sent to Washington D.C. as an assistant officer of Japanese ambassador to support and observe the reactions of U.S. Congress. The president of the United States, Franklin D. Roosevelt, seemed to be fully assertive with his proposals and further mocked Japanese morality and fundamental rights of equality. Since the Japanese conquest of Asia started, the United States has continuously hindered Japan’s receiving of supplies and goods. With all regards to proposed facts, Japanese government decided to launch an attack to Pearl Harbor, where the majority of U.S. fleets was stationed.

//What is war? what is the purpose? // The voice which I’ve been quite accustomed to countered my thoughts without exception. War is change. War brings revolution. Ever since Lucifer rebelled against God, the world started to move forward, breaking the endless loop of oblivion. Anyone who inquires of the morality of war will first need to answer why life necessitates ceaseless modification. As society, a melting pot of individuality, governs life and death of a citizen, morality rather plays shallow while the bigger responsibility of maintenance is issued.

May 2nd, 1942, Philippines Three months ago, I have volunteered to be on the frontline as a medic in conquering Philippines, and other Southeast Asian islands. Although knowing my physical handicaps, Admiral Yamamoto rather conceded easily. I believed that a soldier who had seldom been to the actual battlefield is no better than the incongruous weeds that Japanese government currently had the responsibility to keep. I have seen the horror. I have seen the soldiers painfully attempting to tug in their fallen intestines, I have seen the comrade who so delightfully talked during the night perish into the gray flames. Occasional cries that were eventually merged by the cacophony of explosion dyed the scene further with various colors. In these three months out of five years of war, I already have seen too much. Clamors of soldiers made from the continuous victories sounded just as painful as the hauls of the natives. //Have you found the answer yet? //  Plethora of arrogant contemplations, Mr. Know It All-like pitiable observations, I’ve understood absolutely nothing about this world. I did not recognize - might not have wished to do so - that society is merely a system for the people, for the humanity, for the life. I have stated my thoughts as if the society itself is just and absolute. As much passion and respect a nationalist would have for war, one must acknowledge that the ultimate reverence of humanity lies in its imperfection, a harmony of black and white, water and oil; disparagements which define war from peace, and peace from war.

December 17th, 1945, Sapporo I returned home. It was no surprise that no one was able to tell who I was from my appearance: beard was sticking out in disorder, once pale yet smooth skin now was tanned and rough, and scoliosis that once disqualified me to be an ordinary soldier was now back in place with the proper development of back muscle. Once I introduced myself to my family, my aunt just sobbed silently, with my fifteen years old sister who seemed to be dumbfounded. I was thankful for not being one of the people who instead returned in the letters. I was truly, truly thankful. Nostalgia overwhelmed my body as I walked back into the room. It was in the same shape as I left it eight years ago, the very place where I struggled to leave which became an essence of my hope for return as I aged. Sitting at my desk, my mind was flashing back to two years ago, when the Axis started to collapse from Allies attack.

The war was reaching its end. In May 1943, Japanese Central Pacific perimeter between Gilbert and Marshall islands have been taken by the Allies, which they proceeded with acquiring islands of similar strategical importance to penetrating Japanese defense. My previous position as an interpretive officer eventually became shallow as the war did less of a talk than action, and I was naturally diminished as a translator of the captured Allied soldiers. On March 8th Japanese defense line in Manila was broken. That was the end of the war for me. Even as I told the recent news I've acquired from higher ups about the possible joining of USSR to the comrades and observed several aghast expressions, that was all. I needed nothing more than the faces I missed for seven years deep down in my heart. I needed nothing more. A further battle in June 1944 at the Philippine Sea reaffirmed Union’s way to entering Japanese islands. In February 1945 Iwo Jima was taken. Okinawa followed the same path in April 1945. Then the history’s most devastating weapon struck two cities of Japan in August 10th, 1945. Two atomic bombs were dropped in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In addition to the crisis, Soviet Union declared war against Japan. On August 15th, Tenno officially announced surrender to the Allies. World War II had its curtain call along.

A sudden thought crossed my mind. History evolves. Human evolves. Humanity is history. History is humanity. History teaches humans through the incidents of the past. Then what does human teach? The answer is simple. A change itself is a lesson.The interesting fact is, humanity will never learn history to change itself, and nor will the history. Then the same usual voice cut my thoughts. //What is life? I laughed shortly.  'You are not living if you can answer.' <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif;"> //

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">Bibliography Calvocoressi //<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif;">et al. // <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">, //<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif;">The Penguin History of the Second World War // <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">, p.952 Dorn, Frank (1974). //<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif;">The Sino-Japanese War, 1937-41: From Marco Polo Bridge to Pearl Harbor // <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">. MacMillan Nazi Conspiracy & Aggression Volume I Chapter IX - Collaboration with Italy & Japan: Aggressive War Against the United States, November 1936 to December 1941 (Part 10 of 12)

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