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The Kamikaze
Devotion or Insanity?
An objective examination of the psyche of Japan╣s most infamous war
tactic
│My greatest regret in this life is the failure to call you îchichiue╣
(revered father). I regret not having given any demonstration of the
true respect which I have always had for you. During my final plunge,
though you will no hear it, you may be sure I will be saying
îchichiue╣ to you and thinking of all you have done for me.▓
-Letter written by a Kamikaze pilot before embarking on his
fatal mission (Evans 35).
Introduction
In 1281, Kublai Khan organized a mighty Mongolian armada to invade
and conquer the islands of Japan. The success of this venture was all
but assured when a great typhoon off the Japanese coast destroyed or
dispersed the Mongol ships. The Japanese people considered this
fortuitous storm evidence of heavenly protection and have ever since
credited the salvation of the Empire to Kamikaze--the Divine Wind
(Pineau 27).
There has always been an almost hypnotic fascination with any
ideology that could drive a person to willingly end his own life in
the process of defending that which he/she truly believed in. Often
we may look at these instances with relative disdain, regarding the
ensuing actions as those of an ignorant follower in a world prone to
insecurities. Yet there are also those few instances when a reverence
of such tantamount proportion can not be easily categorized as
childish submissiveness. There are those matchless dignities in which
there is a process far exceeding the petty qualms of a questionable
character. If we are to understand this process in terms of the
historical significance of the Kamikaze pilot we must first understand
what drove these young men to their position. We must penetrate the
root of a conviction that is essentially unseen in any other facet of
humanity.
In a recent A&E documentary on the Japanese-American War, Roger
Stands, Vice Admiral of the U.S. Navy during World War II, noted:
│It was certainly not that the enemy was more courageous than [the
U.S.]. One of the earliest lessons one learns in battle is that
courage is a very common human quality. Mute evidence is the story
of our own Torpedo Squadron Eight at Midway, and the unforgettable
picture I once observed on board the Essex when I watched the
20-millimeter gun crews stand unflinchingly to their guns until
enveloped in flames, in an effort to beat off the Kamikaze.▓
There was, however, always a fundamental difference in the heroism of
the Japanese warriors. The Japanese took one final action which the
American never did: purposely closing any chance of hope and escape.
In the Western mind we are in dire need of a fleeting hope, at least a
slim prospect of survival. I refer to this belief as the │Lottery
Theory,▓ or reliance on the feeling that, though a lot of other people
may die, you yourself somehow are going to make it. Kamikaze attacks,
however, shocked the world primarily because of their CERTAIN DEATH
aspect. History provides many cases of individual soldiers who fought
under certain-death circumstances, but never before was such a program
carried out so systematically and over such a long period of time
(Evans 499-515). The Kamikaze attacks could be carried out ONLY by
killing oneself. The attack and death were one and the same.
It is paradoxical that the Pacific War, which ushered in the atomic
age, should have seen a resort to aerial suicide attacks. Indeed, it
may seem ridiculous that these should ever have been considered, let
alone put into use, to combat the scientific weapons and tactics of
modern warfare. It is understandable that many people should regard
such attacks as an example of barbarity, if not insanity, and prefer
to forget that they ever occurred.
However, the remarkable progress in destructive weapons has forced
men--military and civilian alike--to realize that war gives rise to
desperation. Since war and its weapons are a product of the human
mind it is logical to look into that mind. Further, since the desire
to live is so basic to the human mind, it is of interest to study the
Kamikaze pilots who had to surmount that desire in order to perform
their duty.
No one, as I see it, has yet successfully explained to the Western
mind the Japanese phenomenon of the Kamikaze. Perhaps it is not given
to the Westerner to understand it. It is because of this
predisposition on my part that I invested the majority of my time in
the research for this report by examining the Kamikaze from its native
perspective. Although it is understandably difficult to objectively
dissect such a distinctly different culture from my own, I wanted to
gain at least a partial grasp of what it really meant to be a Japanese
soldier in World War II. What does it mean to be a Kamikaze? The
wartime propaganda efforts of the United States distorted the picture
of the Japanese pilot into an unrecognizable caricature of a man who
stumbles through the air, who has poor eyesight, and who remains aloft
only by the grace of God. This attitude was on too many occasions a
fatal one. The Japanese carrier attack upon the unsuspecting U.S.
Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor altered the way men fought at sea │more
decisively and more swiftly than any action in history▓ (Spurr 3).
In the course of World War II the Japanese Navy lost practically all
of its ships and planes. It lost as well two supreme commanders,
Admirals Yamamoto and Koga, who died in battle within one year╣s time
Word War II is sharply distinguished from Japan╣s earlier wars with
Russia and with China because this was a total war, and, although
predominantly a naval-based conflict, air forces were deeply involved
(Evans xi-xxi).
Considering these two points, we can see that numbers and quality of
fighting men were decisive factors. Japan╣s air forces and naval
forces were both inferior to those of the United States. Extreme
measures were consequently called for.
The Kamikaze fought as the throne commanded. As the war progressed,
they felt the bitterness of defeat, but were determined to undergo any
hardships in fulfillment of their obligation to the Emperor and their
homeland.
│We die for the great cause of our country▓ (Evans 422)--this was the
Kamikaze pilots╣ watchword and their faith. It signified a constant
and deeply grounded belief in their country and their Emperor, and a
willingness to die for that belief. Lacking that, the Kamikaze
attacks would never have been made at all.
Although the term │Kamikaze▓ was later applied to other
self-destructive corps, such as suicide glide bombs and small suicide
boats, strictly speaking the only real Kamikazes were the aerial
attack groups under Vice Admiral Ohnishi. The success of his
organization is attributable to the bond of feeling and purpose which
existed between the Admiral and his men. This unity was of utmost
importance. Without it the attacks could never have been continued
over so long a period, no matter how brave the men or how able their
leader (Evans 420-426).
Admiral Ohnishi╣s pilots never questioned the responsibility of their
commander. But then they never considered that they were going to do
anything extraordinary. Their greatest concern seems always to have
been to make sure that they would hit the target. By comparison,
their death was to them a matter of very minor importance (Evans
422-425).
But this is not sufficient explanation for their meeting death with
such composure. Subconsciously, they must have had a firm belief in
│life through death.▓ This attitude is one that comes through the
long tradition and history of the people of Japan.
The Psychological Basis
The Japanese have a deeply mystical frame of mind that is both a
source and a product of their ancient Shinto religion. Shintoism has
two basic precepts: veneration of the emperor and his authority
because of his divine essence, and cultivation of great moral values
and lofty virtues through ancestor worship (Saltzman 1995). According
to Shintoism, the Japanese people had a divine origin going back to
the sun goddess Amaterasu, mother of the first emperor, Jimmu Tenno,
whose reign began in 660 B.C. From then on, the link between the
imperial dynasty and its divine founder was never broken. Emperor
Hirohito, who reigned during World War II, was the 124th direct
descendant of the goddess Amaterasu (Iriye 127).
The Japanese were also strongly influenced by the Chinese doctrine of
Confucianism, but they were perhaps even more receptive to Buddhism,
in its Chinese interpretation. It gave their religious thought its
final coloration and, above all, its depth. Buddhist teachings such
as the liberation of man from all earthly ties, the attainment of
truth through insensitivity to suffering, renunciation of attachment
to physical things, and an impassive attitude toward death became
important elements of Japanese spirituality (Saltzman 1995).
Since their whole history had been marred by constant local wars,
with shoguns and daimyos fighting amongst themselves, each with his
samurai and personal troops, the Japanese had always lived in a
martial atmosphere. They tended to identify civic virtues with the
qualities required of a good warrior (Zaisser 1993). │Religion and
militarism were inseparable notions▓ (1993).
The Japanese gradually developed a special reverence for the noblest
of their warrior heroes and many strove to imitate them, knowing that
by heroic actions they could win a respect that would follow them
after death and place them among the venerated ancestors (O╣Neill
11-12).
the collection of principles that governed a samurai╣s conduct was
known as the Bushido code. It taught honor, courage, loyalty, the
ability to endure pain in silence, self-sacrifice, reverence for the
emperor, and contempt for death. For centuries it was a code followed
only by the samurai, but when Japan was opened to Western influence it
was natural to make the ancient code part of the regulations of the
modern army. It was also adopted by other social classes. Many
Japanese commoners took pride in living by the noble principles of the
samurai, who had by now become legendary heroes (11-12).
This certainly gave rise to the elevation of Japanese morality. It
also strengthened obedience to authority and enabled the ruling
classes to count on the total submission of a large part of the
population. The principles of the Bushido code were given a more
political interpretation and made an integral part of the national
ideology (O╣Neill 13-14).
The Japanese moral code held that voluntary death was better than
living in shame. Suicide was regarded as an honorable act (unlike in
Western countries). Reasons for it could vary from the deepest
personal tragedy to humiliations whose seriousness would strike most
Western minds as highly questionable (O╣Neill 11-14).
Soon after the beginning of her rapid industrialization, Japan set
about developing an effective army and navy. But while the
organization and equipment of her new armed forces were modern, their
spirit and discipline continued to reflect ancient traditions. The
result was a brutal, rigid, totalitarian system which demanded a
degree of courage, devotion, and obedience that went far beyond what
was generally expected of soldiers in other countries (O╣Neill 13-15).
In view of all this, it is easy to imagine the ferocity and
fanaticism with which the Japanese fought in all the wars of their
history, and particularly during World War II, when for the first time
their homeland was seriously threatened!
The First Step
As Japan has never been adequately endowed with natural resources,
her war effort depended greatly on obtaining petroleum and raw
materials from conquered territories. Early in 1942, a steady stream
of tankers and freighters began bringing these products to the home
islands and delivering fuel and manufactured articles on their return
voyages. The United States realized the importance of the sea lanes
between Japan and the Dutch East Indies, and soon began a submarine
war of extermination (Iriye 28-30). Japanese pilots soon began
stiffening their determination to maintain the prosperity of the
economic seaways to and from the Philippines, as was shown by the many
proposals for rampant counter-attacks that they made to their
superiors. In these proposals, the survival of the pilots involved
was always problematic and was sometimes disregarded altogether
(77-79). The primary concern was to inflict maximum destruction on
the enemy and mattered little whether the pilots had to be sacrificed
or not. This new outlook was extremely widespread. It was inspired,
as I previously noted, by the proud Japanese heritage, and by the
example of the increasingly numerous pilots who crash-dived against
enemy targets (Spurr 15). The conditions for these │dives▓ were
simple: Take everything with you...and everything will be yours for
eternity.
The Dynamics of Kamikaze Flight
But this paper was not meant to provide a history lesson. There are
countless documentations of this particular time, and an addition to
this seemingly never-ending stream of facts (all be them interesting!)
would do little more than provide a larger warehouse of recycled
knowledge. I would hope that the reader understands that the
combination of a │religious▓ attitude towards war, coupled with an
insufficient supply of natural resources to combat a gargantuan enemy,
led to inevitable action. Perhaps the reader might even open his mind
to further research into the justification of such actions, coming to
a conclusion based on his own reasoning.
But justification is not my purpose with this paper. If anything, I
chose to forever remain completely objective (and utterly neutral) on
the morality issue surrounding the Kamikaze epic. It would not be
logical to go any further with this preliminary discussion if it
continues along the path it initially seemed to preclude. Instead,
with respect to the guidelines of this research paper, I would like
use the platform of general information I have laid out to present a
concluding dialectic of the processes involved in a Kamikaze passage
to the unknown. Admittedly, I have occasionally strayed to the more
intangible aspects of this methodology, but the intent of my ambiguity
was to produce for the reader a small window into an endless hall of
mystery. Looking through that window, let us depart company, and
watch a young pilot leave the ground for the last time, carrying with
him the strongest force of nature: DEVOTION!
The Final Flight1
The wind was a crux of dignity that encircled the trees in quaffs
like invisible smoke. A distinctive aura perfumed the oil-stained
grasses that lay tired beside a sea of wet concrete and withering
granite. Hiroshi Takeuchi stared out, his passionate eyes surveying
the Zero (Mitsubishi 00) fighters posted in tight groups across
grounds. These planes were almost entirely new to the young pilot.
His basic training had involved primarily the use of Type 96 Claudes,
an opened cockpit airship with little power and even less
maneuverability. These Zero╣s were as different from Claudes as night
and day. They were sleek and modern, with enclosed cockpits, a
powerful engine, and retractable landing gear. Instead of only two
light machine guns, these works of art had a 20-mm. cannon as well
(O╣Neill 139).
The Zero excited Hiroshi like nothing else he had ever seen before.
It had almost twice the speed and range of the Claude and it was a
dream to fly (139). The airplane was the most sensitive he had ever
flown, and even a slight finger pressure brought instant response. He
could hardly wait to meet the enemy planes in this remarkable new
aircraft.
The fighter had been first tested in the occupation of French
Indochina, flying top cover for army troops which occupied key ground
positions (Evans 76-77). This meant a nonstop flight of 800 miles
from Kaoshing to Hainan Island (Hammond 71). This was an incredible
distance for a fighter plane, especially with much of the flight over
the ocean. It had been carried out without a hitch (Evans 77)--sheer
wonder for Hiroshi, who was accustomed to the short-ranging Claudes.
There had been no opposition, however, as the Zero╣s patrolled over
the occupation forces moving into Indochina. Except for some minor
border skirmishes caused by uninformed regional French troops,
Japanese forces had moved in quietly and without trouble (Evans 76-77,
88).
Hiroshi had been there! He had held the throttle between his hands,
reeling in the power of an almost human divinity. As the massive
flight troop circled the skies around him, a small tear flushed itself
from his eyes. We shall become a legacy! We shall never be
forgotten!
The Zero╣s combat trials were postponed until May of 1941. Back in
the China theater, Hiroshi and his squadron had discovered that the
enemy pilots had lost heart for fighting. No longer were they
aggressive and quick to attack. The enemy pilots were eluding the
Zero force at almost every opportunity, and would engage only when
they had the advantage of plunging out of the sun in a surprise
attack. Their timidity had forced Japan to invade deeper and deeper
inland to force them to do battle (O╣Neill 138-140).
On August 11, 1941, Hiroshi was assigned to one such mission, with
the express purpose of forcing the enemy into a fight. It was an
800-mile nonstop flight, from Ichang to Chengtu (Evans 76). This was
familiar territory; it was over Ichang, then enemy held, that Hiroshi
had challenged 12 Russian bombers.
On a penetration flight, Hiroshi and his squadron had escorted seven
twin-engined Mitsubishi Type I bombers, better known during World War
II as │Bettys (O╣Neill 284).▓ The bombers had taken off from Hankow
shortly after midnight, and the squadron had picked them up over
Ichang (O╣Neill 191). The night had been pitch black, and their only
landmark was the whitish Yangtze Valley winding its way across the
dark country. They arrived at Wenkiang airstrip before dawn, circling
slowly until daybreak. Finally the sky had lightened. No enemy
fighter had appeared. Hiroshi and his squadron had watched the flight
leader bank his Zero and dive. That was the signal to Strafe. One
after the other they plummeted from the sky toward the airfield, where
Hiroshi saw Russian fighters already moving along the runways on their
take-off runs. Their ground crews were running frantically over the
field, heading for the trenches.
Hiroshi had pulled out at low altitude, coming up behind one E-16
fighter as it rolled down the field. It had been a perfect target,
and a short cannon burst exploded the fighter into flames. Hiroshi
had then flashed across the field and spiraled sharply to the right,
climbing steeply to come around for another run. Tracers and flak
were to the left and right of him, but the Zero╣s unexpected speed had
thrown the enemy gunners off (O╣Neill 160-162).
Other Zero fighters dove and made strafing passe over the runways.
Several of the Russian fighters were burning or had crashed. Hiroshi
pulled out of a dive to catch another plane in his sights. A second
short cannon burst and there was a mushrooming ball of fire. That had
made two, and Hiroshi╣s first with the Zero.
There had been nothing left to strafe! Their attack had cleared the
field of enemy planes, and not a single Russian aircraft had been left
able to fly. The majority were seen burning or had exploded (Spurr
201). Back at 7,000 feet, Hiroshi had noticed the hangars and other
shops burning fiercely from the regular bombing attack. It was a
thorough job, although the young pilot had been disappointed in the
lack of air opposition, and, perhaps symbolizing a collective
frustration, the entire squadron had continued circling, hoping the
towering smoke would draw the enemy planes. It didn╣t.. During
several weeks of air patrol, they had failed to encounter any enemy
aircraft (O╣Neill 184).
Early in September, Hiroshi and all other naval pilots were returned
to Hankow where they had been quite surprised by the appearance of
Vice-Admiral Eikichi Katagiri, the Naval Air Force Commander in China
(Zaisser 1993). The admiral told them that they were to be
transferred to Formosa, where they would │fulfill a most important
mission.▓ The admiral had not elaborated, but it was obvious to
Hiroshi and his peers that open war with the great Western powers
seemed imminent (Zaisser).
Later the same month a total of 150 fighter pilots and an equal
number of bomber crewmen had moved from the Kaohsiung air base to
Tainan, where they had then been quickly organized into the new Tainan
Flotilla (Inoguchi 90, 122). The entire Pacific was about to explode.
The Dignity of War!
It was early in November, and a glorious past was fading to a harsh
future. Everywhere Japanese forces were forced to fall back, to
retreat. Hiroshi╣s own air units were being slashed to ribbons, their
planes falling in droves, the pilots not dying singly or by twos or
threes, but by the dozens. Any hope of defending the Philippines had
vanished. Literally every Japanese warplane in the islands was
gone--either shot out of the air by the American fighters it engaged,
or expended in the Kamikaze attacks, which continued until no lanes
were left (Spurr 15, 19).
Hiroshi remembered the months before and his heart sank. He
remembered the loudspeaker and its abrupt crackle: │Attention! Here
is an important announcement! At 0600 this morning a Japanese task
force succeeded in carrying out a devastating surprise attack against
the American forces in the Hawaiian Islands.▓ A wild, surging roar
had gone up in the darkness. Pilots danced and slapped their friends
on the back (O╣Neill 40-47). Hiroshi clutched his flight goggles
tightly and stared, beaming, into the sky.
But so much time had passed since that glorious day in December. The
Americans had quickly regained their composure, retaliating in
tremendous bursts of unbelievable power! B-29 bombers circled over
Hiroshi╣s homeland, devastating cities with rapid drops, before
disappearing above the clouds (Pineau 112). Officials in the Japanese
army seethed with rage.
│One plane!▓ they shouted. │One plane and we can do nothing!▓ But
they didn╣t understand. At a normal cruising height of 30,000 feet it
would have taken even the most advanced Zero╣s several minutes to
retaliate, and by then the infamous bombers were gone (O╣Neill 120,
138-143). Hiroshi assured himself that this was not a sign of
weakness, repeating over and over that is was his county╣s mere fate
that it lacked the resources necessary to construct such awesome
fighting machines. But it still hurt him inside, and his beloved
country lay in shambles before him.
But this was no time for insecurities, and Hiroshi forced himself to
concentrate on successes rather than failures. As a fighter pilot,
Hiroshi had never been inclined to approve of suicide missions, but
there was no denying their necessity, nor their efficiency, in
battling the enemy forces. In late October, the Shikishima Unit of
the Kamikaze Special Attack Corps had succeeded in a surprise attack
against the enemy task force outside of Suluan, Philippine Islands.
Two warships had been sunk by Kamikaze efforts (Pineau 111).
The Kamikazes were what gave Hiroshi his greatest strength. They
ripped aircraft carriers from stern to stern. They split open cruiser
and destroyers, and exacted a terrible toll (Zaisser 1993). Hiroshi╣s
squadron talked long and hard of these efforts, and none could wait
for their time to come to do their part.
│The American will never understand!▓ Hiroshi yelled during a
squadron meeting one night. │Our men do not consider that they are
throwing their lives away! Look at how many have volunteered for
these one-way missions! Look at the devotion we have or our cause!▓
The room filled with cheers. │This is not suicide!▓ Hiroshi
continued. │These men are not dying in vain! Every plane which
thunders into an enemy warship is a blow struck for our land. Every
bomb carried by a Kamikaze into the fuel tanks of a giant carrier
means that many more of the enemy killed, that many more planes which
shall never bomb and strafe over our soil!▓
The Kamikazes had become a symbol of faith. They represented a
belief in Japan, in striking a blow with their lives. It was a cheap
price to pay; one man, perhaps, against the lives of hundreds or even
thousands. Besides, Japan no longer had the means to base its
strength on conventional tactics (O╣Neill 177). It was no longer
possessed of such national power. And a man, everyone of those men,
who surrendered his mortal soul was not dying. He passed on life to
those who remained.
But not even the stupendous toll reaped by the Kamikazes could halt
the terrible power amassed by the Americans. They were too mighty,
too many, too advanced (Pineau 207).
Perhaps the men who flew for the last time realized this. It is
difficult to believe that many of those who flew Kamikazes did not
recognize the hopelessness of Japan╣s position in the war. But they
did not flinch, they did not hesitate. They flew their bomb-laden
planes, and died for their country.
On January 20, the Imperial Navy Organized a new fighter wing--the
last of the war--at Matsuyama on Shikoku Island (O╣Neill 178, 275-6).
Hiroshi had been assigned to this wing, and he knew that soon his own
time would come to give his last and greatest effort for his country.
Many a great pilot had since been lost in the war, and Hiroshi felt
his entire being quiver with the onslaught of death╣s grip. Before
his scheduled flight he wrote a note to his cousin, knowing it would
be the last thing he would ever say to her:
│I have been reassigned to combat duty, │ he wrote. │From this day
on we shall be fighting against what appear to be overwhelming odds.
Since the beginning of this battle I have learned that many of my
closest friends have died. I feel that if they were to meet such an
end...than I am to follow soon.
│This letter will be the last I shall ever write to you, and I cannot
wait any longer to tell you what I have wanted to say for so very
long.
│Do you recall our days as children together? Those were wonderful
times, filled with fun and laughter. You and I lived as sister and
brother, and even then our fondness of each other was strong.
│What I have long wished to tell you was that in my heart you have
been the dearest person on this earth to me. I know now that I have
looked upon you as my only love. Perhaps it is wrong to say so,
perhaps it is not the was I would like it to be said, but I believe
you were always there in my heart. I did not know it then as I have
known it for these last months.
│I have long loved you and loved you deeply. There has been no
outward sign from me to you, although this has been the hardest thing
in my life...to keep away from you the way I really felt. I have
waited so long to tell you I love you. The war has created a barrier
between us. I realize that my feelings have never been shown, that
this love I have for you has been throttled and kept inside.
│we are, after all, cousins. Perhaps it is best for both of us that
marriage lies beyond our grasp. But now I have said what was
necessary. I pray for only one thing, my love. May you live long,
and may happiness be yours forever.▓
The following day, Japan╣s final Kamikaze squadron lifted into the
air. Hiroshi did not speak except to respond to basic formation calls
and relay specific orders. When the giant formation of an American
Naval fleet came into view the sky began to explode with life (and
death) all around him. Hiroshi stared deep into the ocean,
remembering his past, remembering the war. Closing his eyes, he was
lifted into an air of peace. None of the new Matsuyama wing ever
returned.
Conclusion
It has been said that war is Hell, and that Heaven is but peace.
Perhaps it can now be said that the Kamikazes found peace in Hell.
Confidence and determination was their resilience in the war. It gave
Japan the strength to fight when objective reasoning revealed only
futility. Were Kamikaze attacks an act of desperation? Or were they
were an act of emotionally driven cogitation?
When logic tells us that our hopes our unyielding we persist
none-the-less. Human reasoning is based on our own perspectives, and
when it is perceived that our dreams cannot be achieved it is
impossible to listen to │logic.▓ Kamikaze pilots died for their
dreams because it was not worth waking up. That, dear reader, is not
insanity. It is totally human.