Loving Enemies
~ Barney and Myko ~
Southern Japan, 1944–1946
Arthur H. Barnes
Smashwords Edition Published by Fideli Publishing Inc.
Loving Enemies © Copyright 2012, Arthur H. Barnes
All Rights Reserved.
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ISBN: 978-1-60414-448-2
Library of Congress Control Number: # 2009921013
Third Edition
Cover Photographs: Myoko portrait (cover and title page) and garden image modeled by Miye Bishop; and title page the author in uniform, 1945.
Other Books by Arthur H. Barnes
THE MISSION: October – November 1944
A NEW LIFE: November 1944 – March 1945
LOVE AND DANGER: March – June 1945
DUTY & SEPARATION: June – August 1945
GOING HOME: August 1945 – January 1946
Arthur H. Barnes was born in Ventura, CA. He earned a B.A. in professional arts from Brooks Institute, Santa Barbara, CA. and an M.A. degree from Pepperdine University, Malibu, CA.
While serving in the US Navy (1944 -1950) he survived a Kamikaze attack and earned a Purple Heart; and he served in Okinawa, Japan, which experience provided the source of many of the details and flavor of this story. He worked at the Data center of Edwards Air Force Base, CA., in the Major Company for 27 years.
He lives with his wife Alvena in Bellingham, WA, a most beautiful city 22 miles south of the Canadian Border and overlooking the San Juan Islands. He has been married from 1950 to the present, and dotes on one “fabulous” grandson.
Other books by Arthur H. Barnes
In
The Service of Our Country:
The Ship and Her Men of the USS
Zellars DD 777, 1998
The Longest Way Home, 2002
Beyond The Darkest Shadow, 2005
Lonely Horses, 2006
The Sword Maker, 2009
To Miye Bishop for giving beautiful form to the character on the cover; to the friends who critiqued my book and responded to my request for their honest reactions; and to my wife Alvena, who stood back always and encouraged me to write, even though she thought — because each novel was so different from the last — that her husband might be slightly crazy.
Southernmost Japanese islands.
The island of Kyushu, showing the town of Fukuoka and the area (in solid red square) of Barney’s landing and Myoko’s house and garden.
The author wishes to clarify, for all readers, the use of certain terms used in this novel.
During the Second World War, Japan attacked the United States and necessitated hostilities as its enemy. In light of the resulting destruction, and of its combatant behavior as reported, it was natural and inevitable that derogatory terms, such as “Jap”, would have been employed to refer to this enemy by Americans, especially in the heat of battle. The author has therefore, in certain situations narrated in this book, employed this term in order to convey to readers the realities and emotions of those times.
The author wishes to assure readers that in no way does he wish to offend by the use of the term and begs to have his intentions understood as stated here. Rather, he joins with the entire world in praise of the Japanese people for their progressive culture and desire to bring about peace and a measure of harmony to our still troubled world.
— Arthur H. Barnes
The Mission
October–November 1944
October 4, 1944: 0500
Wafts of gentle salt spray combed over the bow planes of the Seawolf as she moved quietly, but very determinedly, toward the island of Kyushu, the southernmost major island of the Japanese homeland. The objective, a strange but seemingly easy one: put a special person on a selected lonely stretch of beach south of the city of Fukuoka, Japan, with required supplies, Continue on your assigned patrol, pick him up in 14 days and rush him back to Pearl Harbor.
Standing the 04:00 to daylight watch as lookout was one of the most calming events Barney had had during the past week, since he had come aboard the submarine. As the salt spray mist lightly coated his face and jacket, he had time to think about the place in which he now found himself. The spray evaporated and turned to fine salty residue as Barney’s thoughts and feelings went back to several weeks ago.
He had been a very satisfied sailor on board one of the newest and best 2200-ton Sumner class destroyers that the Pacific Fleet had seen to date. The ship had been charging around several of the latest recaptured islands firing shore bombardments, and on several occasions had shot Japanese planes out of the ever-blue sky. Barney felt that if one had to be in a war, this was the best duty one could hope for. To date the Navy had been very rewarding for him and he was sure that would continue. Recently he had been promoted to Petty officer 2nd class and given the duty to train several new seaman strikers in the fire control gang. Life was great! Then totally unexpectedly, BOOM! A PBY Catalina flying boat landed close by, and its crew ushered Barney aboard the aircraft and whisked him away without any explanations.
A day later, he had found himself standing in a room deep inside a cement bunker, somewhere in Pearl Harbor in front of some very determined-looking men who had not identified themselves. Here he heard one of the wildest propositions that he could have imagined.
Barney had learned good basic Japanese as a high school student, long before he imagined a war in his own future. Just after World War Two began, his family had been transferred to El Centro, California. Even though most of the Japanese had been relocated to other areas, at least one family had not, and Koji Washuri became a best friend to Barney.
After school, basketball practice, or just leisurely throwing a ball through the hoop, was fun. Often the two of them would wander off through the many citrus orchards, tossing rocks and talking about many of the main events of the times. One of the most memorable events was, as they wandered through the grapefruit orchards during the ripe season, when he and Koji would select ripe-on-the-tree fruit, peel and section them and enjoy them together. Now, just remembering the shared grapefruit made his mouth water.
Rarely was the war with Japan a part of their conversations, simply because of the deep friendship and respect that was developing between them. It was a good way to learn trust and to share each other’s culture. When Koji first invited Barney to his home Barney was captivated by the fact that his parents did not speak one word of English, yet they were very gracious with visitors who came to their home. Koji’s father owned a large vegetable farm near El Centro and took great pride in his contributions to help feed the country. He was a very proud American.
Barney badgered Koji to teach him the Japanese language, so that he could be a better friend both to Koji and his family. For the next two years Barney spent many hours at it, and became good enough with the Japanese language that when in the Washuri home he used their language all the time. It became a game to see how often they could trap Barney in some of their conversations. And that was why he had found himself standing in front of those few very stern, difficult-looking men.
A flash of greenish light from the bow of the submarine quickly jerked Barney back to the present. The light was the sea being churned as it broke over the diving planes, causing a brighter than usual luminescence from the salt water phosphorous as the sub moved toward its destination. Losing one’s concentration from lookout responsibility was not recommended, and getting caught would mean one heck of a chewing out by the officer of the deck. Even at that early hour of the morning it was very important to keep sharp eyes and ears for anything 360 degrees about the boat. Barney had volunteered to stand the last watch before dawn because it gave him the longest amount of time to stay topside and take in as much fresh air as possible. Although some in the Navy considered submarine duty the best, Barney was not too crazy about being submerged with so much water all around him.
It was difficult to keep his mind on his duty as lookout; however, he began to go over the details of his new and weird objective. The three men at Pearl Harbor had given him some real lectures — God, Duty and Country speeches. They impressed upon him that what they were about to ask him to do would make a most significant difference in the outcome of the pending invasion of the mainland of Japan. Even with the best in photographic intelligence, the war planners did not feel very sure of the many potential obstacles that would face the invading troops as they made their way ashore. And somehow that is how Barney fit into this wild scheme of coming events.
The objective seemed simple enough. The submarine was to put him, enough food, and other supplies (including a special radio) onto the Western side of one of the main islands of Japan. Supposedly there were high cliffs with some cave-like enclosures that he could make into some kind of hiding place. His primary objective would be to search by night for any military-type installations and study the roads to determine if they would support the heavy tanks and other equipment that would come ashore during the invasion; further, to study what the civilian population was like. He was to observe what they were doing most of the daylight hours and anything else that might be of interest should the U.S. decide to use that particular area for landing troops. Do not try to fight or engage in any way the Japanese people that you might be forced to meet. If caught he was to simply state that he was a survivor from a sub that had been sunk (which turned out to be a sadly prophetic statement) and that he had made his way ashore, hiding out in the heavily forested countryside.
The target area was to be somewhere south of the city of Fukuoka, a place Barney had never heard of, and one of which little knowledge was available. It was on the western side of the island of Kyushu, the southernmost island of the bigger islands of Japan. Maps, tracing materials, pencils, a small but very high-powered spotting scope, and a high quality camera with several lenses were all the equipment that he would need.
The time frame for the gathering of all the information was set for two weeks. Into Barney’s mind crept the thought of how he would accomplish all that he was being asked to do in so few days. Waves of fear of so many unknowns seeped into his thoughts and caused a very bitter, acid taste. The muscles in his stomach twisted and convulsed, manifesting his fear. Even if everything that had been planned went perfectly, Barney knew that this was still not going to be any fun. It would not be a holiday. If he was this apprehensive about what he was about to do, what would it be like once he reached the beaches of Japan, alone, and not having anyone to talk to? Damn, how did / get into this mess? He almost started to blame Koji for teaching him the damned language.
The very early shafts of light were just creeping over the placid Pacific Ocean as the officer of the deck yelled, “Clear the bridge, lookouts below, dive, dive!” and the scramble was on. The stories of depth charging, diving so deep that the hull would cave in, and other wild events had caused a subliminal, but strong, fear that had not been a part of destroyer duty. Barney had not cared to look into what a submarine design was like. Therefore, he was not very well acquainted with how it was able to cruise submerged, nor with the fact that it had two different kinds of propulsion systems: one for surface cruising using diesel engines, and a second one using electric motors for sub-merged cruising.
The huge battery compartment was one of the main concerns of the crew due to the constant need to have maximum power available at all times. One never knew when the boat would be forced to run submerged for long and hazardous hours. The electrical power system did not create any odors and made very little noise when in use. The big diesels with the ever-present smell of diesel fuel, along with the other odors of human sweat and cooking, caused Barney to cherish the moments of topside lookout and fresh air. Ed Larson, Chief of the boat, often reminded him that the smell of an unventilated, closed-up boat did take some getting used to.
It had been some nine days since leaving Hawaii. As the night closed around the lone travelers in what seemed like a very small sea-going system, the skipper, showing a different attitude and a deeper concern, announced that they were now in enemy waters and for all hands to pay closer attention to their duties. The enemy could be expected to show its face at any time. It was also time to let the crew in on the reason a non-sub passenger was aboard.
The attitude of the crew toward Barney became more congenial and he often heard the crew saying, “Someone on the boat has lost all his marbles and is just plain nuts!” He was beginning to agree with them, but a commitment was a commitment and anyhow, how could he get off this damned sub? He couldn’t go over the hill, so to speak.
For the next three days the different specialists of the crew: radioman, for communications; the boat’s exec, for accurate plotting of potential targets; and the captain, for general reinforcement, went over all the details for this hair-brained expedition. Much of what they recommended were items that Barney — and the men who got him into this fix— never thought of. He was very grateful and it gave him a small measure of confidence in his task.
A new concern, one that was beginning to plague Barney the most, was how the guys were going to find him and get him off the damned island when the time came.
October 8:2300
Delivering Barney was not the only chore that the Sea-wolf had on her schedule. After putting him ashore the sub was to conduct a normal war patrol to the north end of the island of Hokkaido, return through the Nemuro Straits, on down the eastern side of Hokkaido, then re-enter the Sea of Japan through the Tsugaru Straits. They were to sink everything afloat and be at the rendezvous site exactly 14 days from the day he was put on shore. All the what-ifs a person could imagine became a part of his every thought. This is enough shit to scare the devil himself, was his total emotion. One thing for sure was no one could pile any more on him; there was no more they could think of, or somehow they would have done it.
Black is really black sometimes, but tonight could not get black enough for the chore that they were about to perform. The sub, cruising barely submerged with periscope raised up the maximum height, was attempting to find the exact series of cliffs on which to discharge the lone passenger.
The time was 2300 hours and with all the junk that Barney had to haul up the 300-foot side of an unknown cliff, there would barely be enough time before daylight to do all this stuff, find a hole in the cliff side and say all the prayers, both in Japanese and in English, that he could think of. Quietly, the skipper announced: “Surface, landing party to the conning tower, gun stations will be manned and for God’s sake be fast and quiet.” To the surface and the black of the night they went. Small gurglings of seawater could be heard as it was being dispelled from the ballast tanks.
There were slight movements of personnel as the men went to their stations for the quick topside activity. A soft hiss of fresh air enveloped the crew as the conning tower hatch was opened and all were naked to the world of hostile Japan. The sub was on the surface only a few hundred yards from a very ominous dark shore.
Breakers could be heard loud and clear from the direction of the landing site. Was this the right place? Couldn’t we look a little more, maybe longer or something — to make sure you guys are putting my scared ass on the right beach? Boy, oh boy, what a way to find out if Koji had taught him the correct words in Japanese. These were just some of the more pressing thoughts going through Barney’s mind. Now it, REALITY, was about to happen. These thoughts were completely scrambled inside Barney’s head. It was spinning and loudly screaming: this is not the thing to be doing at the tender age of not quite 20, and, will I be around to reach 20 after the next 14 days?
A small black inflatable boat was put over the side, and all the gear that he would need — or thought he would need, to do what he was supposed to do — was piled in the center. The second-class bosun, Carl Benson, was ready to row Barney toward the sound of the angry sea that was breaking on the darkened shore. A small slightly protected cove turned out to be the landing site. It offered enough protection from the breaking surf so that off-loading the equipment and foodstuff was not complicated, and it took only a few minutes to stack everything on the rocky beach. Benson gave Barney a strong grasp of the arm, almost bruising his hand in a good luck, see you in a few days or nights handshake. Then he hastily retreated back into the darkness of the night and the submarine.
Barney stood on the beach just as Benson had left him, staring out into the direction of the sub. It seemed like hours before he heard the soft whistle of the air being forced out of the sub’s ballast tanks as it returned to the security of the darkness of the undersea.
Alone! Not in all of his life had Barney dreamed that anyone could be so alone, and feel this deserted and lost. How could the US Navy do such a thing to a young guy like him? One hell of a predicament to be in! Oh well, I’m here and there’s only me to get all this stuff up the side of this hill and daylight will come all too soon. Barney knew that he had to have everything out of sight and be in some kind of hiding place that would allow him to gather his thoughts and try to make the best out of this commitment. More what-ifs. What if there is no path up the steep cliff? What if I can’t find a hole in the cliffs so that I can get out of sight? What if I’m seen? And so on. “First things first,” Barney said to himself, and first was to get some idea of the small inlet in which he now found himself stranded.
Creeping slowly toward the face of the cliff, stumbling over beach stones, it took him about 30 minutes to get his bearings. One very narrow, and what looked like a seldom-used trail zigzagged upwards to who knew what or where. He decided to make a non-carrying exploratory trip to the top and find some kind of very temporary shelter. The soil was wet and slippery, and careful placement of each step was mandatory in order to keep from sliding back to the bottom of the climb. In the darkness, it seemed that each change in direction of the trail was about 12 steps, not including the stumbles and slips. After at least an hour, the top of the climb suddenly flattened out and Barney found himself staring into a very dark and slightly terraced valley. He could barely make out any details of the area. Deep shadows across the valley made it appear rather steep and rocky.
Off to his right the terrain dropped out of view and to his left it rose gently over what appeared to be another shallow valley. Along the edge of the cliff, as far as he could see in the darkness, were large clusters of some kind of high vegetation. Barney’s first thought was if he could get all his equipment and stuff to the top he could hide in the biggest cluster of whatever the tall growth was. Sliding and grabbing handfuls of dirt, he made his way back down to the beach. It took him three trips to gather his food and equipment and stack it near the closest vegetation.
This backbreaking effort had really done him in and he fell out of breath upon the edge of the cliff, gasping for air. Now he was free of the beach. The fear of being seen or caught made his skin prickle with sharp sensations much like electrical shock. If I could just fly, I would get the hell out of here right now, he thought anxiously.
Barney first went to the cliff side of the cluster and found that the vegetation was a small forest of giant bamboo. It grew so close that no way was found to allow crawling into the inside of the mass. He thought that if he could move deep enough into the bamboo, he would be out of sight and secure for the coming day. Backing up, he next tried the landside of the bamboo and found a very low crawl space where two of the clusters came together. This would have to do for the time being. Being careful not to drag any of the packs, so as not to leave any trace of entry, Barney put the packages in their respective piles, covered them with a thin canvas and laid down atop the smallest pile. Everything else would have to wait.
He was totally exhausted and could not even think clearly, let alone logically, about what he must do next. A jumble of all his emotions and fears gathered together causing a few tears and a frightful few hours of sleep.
October 9: 0630
A misty, damp daylight with thin shafts of light penetrated the thick foliage. Barney had been awake for some time. He was not sure if he had really had any sleep. Everything seemed so far removed from anything real, that it was not easy to get himself underway toward the reason he was where he was. He first crawled to the ocean side of his cover and looked out onto a very quiet and most beautiful sea. How could this be a place of war and killing when everything was so peaceful and had such great beauty?
Moving away from the direction of his storage space, he found that the clusters of bamboo were not very wide and grew along the fringes of the cliff. The widest part was no more than 30 feet. This would not offer much of a place to hide in for long. Crawling along the edge and moving farther away from his temporary hiding place he saw a rather sharp turn in the cliff. An outcropping of large boulders and short bushes looked like it might provide some kind of protected hiding place.
Barney stayed very low so no one could see his travel to the new place. He found a fairly good trail that disappeared over the edge and appeared to go down toward the ocean level. Trying to be as hidden as he could, Barney explored down to about the halfway mark, where he noticed another narrow path going to his right and slightly upward. The new path climbed over several large boulders and disappeared into the far side of the cliff. Behind the group of boulders was an area that, with some extra digging and moving of smaller rocks and soil, could be made to offer as safe a hiding place as he could expect to find for the duration of his stay.
Back he went to begin the task of hauling his supplies. He made the exchange in two trips and set about the digging and building of his nest. As the first day’s darkness settled about him, he began to feel somewhat secure in his small cave-like dwelling. He had dug some eight feet into the hillside and created an opening big enough to stand up in. This also offered him, somewhat hidden from view, a place where he could look out to sea and observe any seagoing traffic, should there be any.
Barney’s first food, if that is what one could call it, was good old “C”-rations of franks and beans. He had never before had the distasteful experience of this poorly thought-of concoction, and the first taste did nothing to make him think better of it. He ate it cold and found little satisfaction in the feeling that he had had a meal. Tomorrow morning early, before the sun came up, he would begin his observation of the land, make his maps, take whatever photographs he could, count the people, and write down all the information that he was there to collect.
Barney was saying to himself: but wait a minute — in order to be somewhere of importance where there will be places of interest — airfields, roads, military installations and areas of large population — I’ll have to be there by daylight and in a concealed place. Not knowing what he should expect, Barney laid out all of his different materials and food supplies. Taking care to have only the items of greatest need, he put together a small package that would not draw attention should he pass by other night travelers.
The men at Pearl had supplied him with what they perceived as the best way today’s poor peasants would be dressed in Japan — and even though the fit was OK, Barney felt like the only frog in a very small pond. Black, overly large sleeves and baggy pants legs, a sash much like a thin rope for a belt, canvas shoes with smooth soles and a loose-fitting pullover shirt cloaked his real identity. Underneath he had regulation Navy issue underclothing. No one could say what the local farmer wore under his pants and shirt, but unless anyone got too close, it would make little difference what Barney had underneath. Additionally, he had been allowed to bring one set of underclothes and five pairs of black socks. Hours went by while he waited and rested.
October 10, 0400
After wrapping the native clothing about himself and picking up his meager pack, Barney eased himself out of his hole and began the spooky trek into the darkness. As he made his way clear of the bamboo thicket, the first decision was which way to turn. According to his impression of the lay of the land, his instinct was to go to the left, up over a small rise that looked like it would drop down toward a valley. In the darkness there was no way to tell anything or if he was about to meet anyone. Walking away from the hiding place toward the low hillside, he followed a well-used wide footpath running from right to left. It was a main travel route from somewhere to some other place. He turned left into who knows where, or to whom.
The dark night was very quiet and for some 45 minutes Barney did not hear or see anything as he made his way down the path. He could have passed close by people and dwellings and not known it. The first indication of life was when he turned a sharp bend in the path and came upon what appeared to be a farmhouse sitting on the very edge of the path. Frozen in the center of the path— with a strong taste of stomach fluids in his throat— Barney eased to the side of the path and steadied himself from the surprised reaction. Turning his head from side to side to better tune his hearing he listened and watched the house for any signs of people. Remembering that the Japanese were supposed to be dog-less gave him a little reassurance, since no noise came from the farmhouse.
Keeping close to the dark side of the path he began to creep past the house, and went some 100 yards before his breathing returned to a normal rhythm. If this was what his travel was to be like, he would never get to any place of importance before daylight. Putting his head down and trying to walk as he thought the local people would walk, he simply took off down the path at a fast clip.
Barney had been on the path for some two hours and had not been disturbed by any of the countryside. The farmhouses were becoming routine and he was seeing them more often. There had to be something to see in front of him. Guessing as to time, he felt that it was about two hours before first light would be upon him and he had to be hidden somewhere. He speeded up his travel and some 15 minutes later a hilly area opened up.
A large open plain with many dwellings filling the landscape came into view. He guessed that he had not more than an hour to be in the open, and therefore a hiding place became mandatory. If he kept to the right all trails would stay close to the up-hill side of the plain, offering the best opportunity to find some kind of lookout. Moving still faster he skirted most of the dwellings and finally found a narrow, well-used trail heading to the area that he had in mind. Shrubbery, much like the kind he was used to on California hillsides, began to cover each side of the trail and there was an outcropping of large stones close by.
Breathing became more labored as the pitch of the trail increased. To the east a very faint of first dawn was beginning to show. Time was running out for finding a secure shelter. Just as Barney was about to dive off the trail into the weeds and brush, he came to a narrow seemingly unused trail that lead off to his left. This seemed to offer the best place to hide. Some 50 yards up the trail was an almost vertical downward turn that had a small spring running at the end of it. To his right was nothing but small trees, scrub brush and a lot of big boulders. No trail went to the higher location so up he went, out of sight and well hidden. Taking off his small pack Barney collapsed at the base of the largest boulder and rested.
October 11: 0600
Sunlight was full in Barney’s face before he started to take stock of the strange surroundings. A very large city lay to the north of him — many smoke stacks were spewing dirty plumes into the early morning air. This could only be the city of Fukuoka, Barney’s target city, the place where he was supposed to gather all the information that he could find so that the authorities at Pearl could plan the invasion that was sure to come soon. Farther off to the right, at the upper end of the plain were the sounds of aircraft engines being run up. There had to be some kind of airfield, or maybe an aircraft factory.
Observing the area in the direction of the sound of aircraft, he viewed a wide plain to the outskirts of the city. It was all gardens or farmland. The plots were so small that there seemed to be millions of them. Some smaller industrial complexes were scattered at the edge of the city. Some of the buildings showed heavy destruction from American bombings. Then there were residential dwellings for a great distance to the main part of the city. Scattered throughout the main downtown area were many factories and a large open harbor. As Barney scanned the harbor he noted that it was filled with many small cargo and transport ships. Looking farther out to sea there was a vast anchorage pier extending as far as he could see. On the very far horizon was the faint outline of tall mountains.
First things first. He needed to take inventory of the primary supplies that he was given, list them in the order of their importance and use some kind of counting plan so that he could keep track of numbers and amounts. The most pressing problem was his own security within his hiding place. Looking about the area, he found that by some blind luck it was well enclosed with trees and very low shrubbery. The boulders offered the ability to move about and change the field of observation. Confidence was fast being restored to the hidden spy — well, a temporary spy.
Shifting his view uphill and to the back of his outpost made him feel good about his hiding place. As far as he could see above him, no houses or other man-made objects were in view. Now all he had to do was settle in and begin the careful observation of the large community that was spread out below him.
Number one on his list was, of course, the amount of military and defense installations. Number two, all roads and large open spaces such as parks and bombed-out areas. Special attention was to be given to the main roads and the attempt to determine if these roads could support heavy tanks and trucks. It appeared that the American Air force had not done much damage to some of the inner-city area. Many of the larger manufacturing facilities had been blown to pieces. The dock area showed the most destruction and there were no dockside warehouse buildings left standing. After glassing with his high powered spotting scope for several hours, Barney noticed for the first time a large structure far to the south of the main city. Setting his scope so that it gave him the best view, he concentrated on the far object. Some smoke stack activity was all that he was sure of. Making a note to himself that this was something that would require a different location for a good look, he returned his attention to the main part of the city.
It took Barney all day to just map the main roads and open park areas, list the most significant parts of the factories and determine what seemed to be the population centers. He didn’t know why but he made note of the time of day and in which direction the people were traveling each hour of his observation. Somehow it seemed important to know when the population moved from one place to another as the day passed. This could be significant as he compiled all of the data and made a summary at the end of the day. People, and the estimated number going to one area, and then another, allowed for a good approximation of the most significant activity of the major part of the population.
As darkness prevented him from good visual information, he realized that lunch had completely been forgotten, and hunger pains brought him back to his lonely hiding place. His food plan or meal agenda for the next three days was all in the C-ration packages. He had packed enough to last for what he felt would be a first-time journey, an evaluation of the area, and the return to his home far away from home. Something called beans and ham sounded like it would satisfy his taste buds and not make him too homesick for a reasonable meal. He could not take a chance of even the smallest fire to warm the mess in the can.
The greasy taste left by the cold food was almost too much for him to swallow, however hunger and the desire to stop the pains in his stomach forced him to finish the can and turn to the hard biscuits and then the chocolate bar. Even the chocolate had an old taste to it. When he had finished this part of the C-rations, the only item left was a small packet labeled lemon drink. Now that complete darkness had settled about the country, something hot seemed the natural thing to make— like a good cup of Navy coffee. One of those big white mugs that only the Navy seemed to have would do just fine. He settled for the yellowish powder, mixing it in his canteen. It was the foulest stuff that he had ever tasted. After several attempts to drink it, he poured the remainder in a hole and covered the hole over. With the empty feeling gone from his mind and stomach, attention had to be given to what was next.
Barney was sure that the most important target was the air facility to the north of his hiding place. He had to find out what was going on and the kind of base it was. He needed to leave the secure place that he was now in and stick his neck into another potential noose. It had to be done, if the information was to be complete and reliable. (He guessed that it would take four hours moving along at the same speed that he had traveled getting to his present spot.) First he needed to get some sleep, and a small amount of time to regenerate his courage before any travel could be undertaken. The only blanket-like item that he had brought was a ground cloth that offered little warmth or protection from any elements, but it was waterproof. This is what he wrapped around his body, then leaning close into a recess of the boulders, he dozed into a very weary, but alert, rest.
October 12:1205
Sometime around midnight his internal clock went off and told him that it was time to move. He had packed all of his mapping and food material so that all he needed to do was shake the sleepy cobwebs from his head and cautiously move out. First, he tried to remove as many traces of his visit as he could in the darkness so as to prevent detection, and then he made his way up over the boulders and down to the lower branch of the trail. He felt that by following or backtracking to the wide path he would continue to keep to the high ground and on a northerly heading. This should bring him close to his second destination, the air base. Also, at this late hour, his chances of meeting other persons on the path would be much less. Shaking his whole body and assuming a stooped profile of the typical old Japanese man, off he went into the darkness of the third night on enemy soil.
The lay of the land was almost flat for several miles. Then the path began to tilt upward and climb through gentle undulating foothills, not enough to make the heart beat faster, but enough to let his leg muscles know that extra work was required and a measure of pain would follow. The up-hill climb also made Barney more cautious and slowed the forward progress a small amount so if anyone should be met unexpectedly, he would have time to react in what he hoped would be a positive manner.
He continually went over the lecture given him at Pearl Harbor: Do not let yourself be detected. It’s very important that you get in and out without letting anyone know you have been there. For his own self-image and longevity, he would do his best to carry out this part of the instructions. The path swung to the left and around a narrowing vestige of farmlands, then up a small hill, and back down toward a lower valley. In the distance was the target he was aiming for, the airbase. Even in the darkness there was a definite outline of the base.
Running from north to southeast was the longest of three runways with the other two cutting across almost in the center of the installation. In the half-moon light the runways shown like silver paths in a flat land. Toward the foothills, like huge grounded balloons, were several buildings that looked like hangars. In the darkness it was impossible to see where the personnel structures were. No noticeable activities could be seen, but the place was big — very big.
Observing the lay of the land, Barney considered that it would be most difficult to find a secure hiding place, since everything was so open and free of trees or vegetation. He needed a place that would allow clear observation of all parts of the base and of the surrounding areas that lay below him. Looking as hard as one could in the darkness, Barney had to almost circle the whole facility before he found some meager cover. At the northwest end of the base area, but not on the grounds, was a sort of refuse dump. It was full of old pieces of concrete, whose thickness said that they had come from the runways, and many other odds and ends. In this mess he found a hollow that permitted enough space to back into and crouch down far enough to be out of sight — but, should anyone come prowling, it would be impossible to stay hidden. But hunker down he did, and with no visible light to see by (daylight was some time away) there was time for a few badly needed ZZZZZ’s, and maybe a thought as to what was next. Snoozing came first.
October 12: 0615
As the damp dawn seemed to take forever to offer enough daylight to see by, Barney came wide-awake. It could have been the sound of airplane engines being revved up and the early morning activities of the base getting underway. He was close enough to the main part of the base to identify officers from the enlisted men and to form a good judgment of the different activities that each group was engaged in, such as plane handlers and mechanics. The fuel trucks of course were the easiest.
Their officers and men seemed just like the American officers and men. The officers were all yelling at the enlisted men and the enlisted men were doing all the work. The great difference noted was the tone of voice. The officers had a very definite kill tone in their commands and the enlisted men acted as though they would be killed at any moment if the officers were not fully satisfied with their response. Ruling through extreme fear was their means of getting things done in a hurry.
Back to the job. Placing blank mapping paper on his lap, and setting up the spotting scope, Barney was ready to bring down his own brand of havoc on the little yellow bastards. First he counted the number of aircraft, the different types of fighters, and then bombers, (twin engine and single engine). They did not have a large number of bombers and the fighters seemed to be older and well used, a mixed bag of all types that he had seen during training for aircraft recognition. The fighters were scattered all over the base, a few here, and some farther away. From the U.S. Navy reports that floated around in Pearl, the enemy was not supposed to have many planes left. The base below seemed to dispute that information, for on one side of the field he counted at least 250 very useable and seemingly ready to go aircraft. Counting the personnel was something else. The little men seemed to be moving all the time, and always at a slow run. Mumbling to himself, he said, “Let’s see, about 50 on the flight line, 20 driving the refueling trucks, another 120 to 140 working on the airplanes, dozens cleaning up the left-over debris from the last visit of the good old Navy Carriers and U.S. Air force, and maybe 60 officers doing the yelling.” By the count of aircraft, he assumed that there were an equal number of pilots. Now, who else?
The base must have some kind of security force (not many in sight), and the cooks, medical, and other staff should bring the number to about, let’s see, a rough guess of 950 men altogether. That is what he wrote down.
The sun was at high noon when Barney was satisfied that he had all the data that he would need about the airfield and his attention turned to the different ways to get to and from the base. Where are the roads and what kind? How wide and from what direction? It took another hour to detail all this information on the map layout, and then he just leaned back staring out to the far horizon toward the city of Fukuoka. What next?
He had been on the Island of Japan for three days and so far what he had done seemed easy. Behind and above him there was a loud-rattling movement and his heart went clear out of his body. At that moment he would have bet that there was not a drop of blood in his whole system. Frozen was not the word for the feeling that he had. He could not, nor dared not, try to see what was making the noise. Sitting very still and taking whatever was forthcoming was the only thing he could do. He died tiny pieces at a time. Some 20 minutes later the rattling stopped and the faint sound of someone moving away could be heard. Paying very careful attention, Barney could now see a two-wheeled cart going back toward the main part of the base — a cart rolling on what looked like bicycle wheels, no wonder he had missed the sound of its coming.
Crouched in the trash pile, Barney had no choice where he was until it seemed safe to begin his return trip. Most of his rations were gone and he had forgotten to bring the special Kodak camera. Just after dark a misty drizzle settled into the valley. This was good in one respect and bad in another. The misery of the rain would cause most other travelers to be inside, making it much safer for him to travel. The cold damp rain also made it more miserable for him.
As complete darkness enveloped the area, guessing that it was near 10:00 o’clock, groaning with pain from having been cramped in one place, Barney stumbled up the short slope and onto the muddy path. The whole return trip to his original hiding place was without incident. As the morning began to clear he slumped down in the cave he had fashioned, pulled the ground cover over his wet, chilled body and fell asleep.
According to the position of the sun, it was near noon and his damp clothes made everything more miserable. He had to take the chance of being seen from the sea in order to dry out. By placing the wet garments on the boulders facing away from the ocean, chances of being seen would be slight. He stretched his naked body out on the ground cloth and took full advantage of the warming rays of the sun. Some two hours later, feeling almost new again, he took time to think over all that he had seen and done, make additional notes, and to plan his next venture.
If he was to record everything that he had to, he needed a plan. Barney decided to look at the areas in the sequence of their position within the plain of the valley, starting with the air base, then the city north, the central part of the city, and then the southern area where most of the factories were located. The last part of this objective would be the far southern area where he had seen the still unidentified large complex.
For ease of travel, he decided to reverse the direction from his first adventure and investigate the southern part of the city and the unidentified complex.
So as not to leave anything out and maybe leave behind important items such as the camera, he checked each item on his list. Missing the need to photograph the air base would mean a trip back if he was to have the best record. Due to the wide area that he wanted to cover, Barney planned to be gone at least four days. That would mean a total of eight days in this very unfriendly land — a little bone-chilling when he thought of the amount of time left before he was to be picked up.
As dusk settled about the cliffs, Barney was determined to have something warm on his menu for dinner. Gathering the few twigs and dry limbs available in the brush just above his hiding place, a small, almost smokeless fire was started. Opening another can of C-rations, he set the can in the edge of the tiny flames and sat back. Very little smoke came up from the blaze and he felt more comfortable than at any time since he had arrived. Even with some heat the rations were still barely edible. His last water had been used to make the so-called lemonade, and that led to another problem — finding good water to drink.
Not having any road maps or ideas of the travel patterns, paths and trails, Barney had no concept of how to get to his next place of observation. The path that took him to the high side of the valley and the air base was in the wrong direction. Following the path a few miles from his present place, then onto the main path for about eight miles, would get him to the top of the ridge where he could see the beginning of the wide valley. Then he would have to find another path off to his left, to the south, that would take him in the direction he needed to go. He made a mental map of the few places that he had seen, gathered up his material, and cautiously departed his lair.
His first check point was the farmhouse that had caused him his first real measure of fright. This was located at the bottom of the last rise before he could see down into the open plain. Some 100 yards past the farmhouse he found another path that he had not noticed the first time. It was as well worn as the path he was on and went in the direction that he wanted to take. Almost immediately the path twisted and turned as it went up a rather steep hill. The first trees of any size stood out in the darkest of shadows like giant goblins with arms outstretched to grab him. He cautiously made his way up to the crest of the hill, and to his relief the whole city was spread out before him.
Moving to his right, off the path and under the trees, he could pick out the best way to approach the southern part of the city. Some of the wider paths and the roads could be seen or conjured by the way the houses and larger buildings were lined up. To find a way that would get him close to the area to be observed was not going to be easy. In fact he could not detect any place that would give him a reasonable hiding place in which to do his thing. Getting closer was his only choice and off he went down to the lower part of the hill and into who knew what.
Barney decided if he were to get the information that was needed, he would have to play Japanese and simply go down into the people-places and see directly. If there were other people on the street it would pose a real problem and almost assure that he would be caught. Again, as he entered the housing area, he slumped over in an old man’s posture and deeply bent his head so that no one could see his face and the fear that was on it. Within nine blocks he met no one; then turning into a wide street he came upon three old men, looking like what he hoped he looked like, and carrying on an intense conversation. So as not to draw extra attention to himself, Barney mumbled “konbanwa,” the Japanese greeting for the evening and shuffled on his way. The old men never left their discussion.
Cold nervous sweat was like a river as it ran down his neck and back. His thoughts were to make one big, slow sweep of the area and hopefully wind up far to the south of the main population and in the direction of the still unknown southern complex. Several more times he met small groups of older men sitting outside of what looked like business places, and he went through the same greeting routine without any further need to do more than a Japanese hello. For the first time he began to realize the need to speak the Japanese language.
By guess alone, Barney felt that he had covered the right amount of the city to be where the best observation could be made and a recording of the important activities would be possible. The street that he had been moving on was a wide, almost three-lane passage, which had to go somewhere important. The one thing that he had noted was the Japanese didn’t waste space and this was some kind of main thoroughfare. Several streets farther he found a section of the industrial, or factory area, that had taken one hell of a bombing, with all of the buildings showing unbelievable destruction. Some of them were nothing but piles of rubble. If he could find a bombed-out structure with several stories still standing, it might do for his hiding place. He found several with one corner standing and others without any floors but none that he could use. Making a broken sign post a landmark, Barney began a walking circle of 10 blocks to his right, then 10 more blocks to his left. Still no luck.
He was beginning to cuss the U.S. Air force for being too good at their job. They could have saved at least one almost-blown-up building that would offer a place for him to hide!
The only thing left to do was to take another part of the city and repeat the 10-block search pattern. Not in the two sections that had just been searched, but on the right side of a small hill that he had not noticed before, stood a partially destroyed concrete structure that had most of what he was looking for. The building had been some seven stories high, over-looking the southern direction and had nothing but destroyed buildings scattered around it. Picking his way over the loose broken pieces of stone and cement, keeping as quiet as he could, Barney found several broken staircases that led to the higher floors. Trying not to disturb any of the rubble so as not to make a noise was not easy. The next two floors were much the same, but from the fourth floor and on up, the destruction was much worse and did not allow an accessible way to the next floors. Barney felt stuck and was about to give up when in the farthest dark corner, he saw what turned out to be some kind of elevator mechanism with several cables hanging down from the above floors. Pulling on the strands to see how well they were anchored above him, he decided that the cables were from a small dumbwaiter. The cables were so small that to get a good grip on them was difficult. In his pack he had wrapped the camera and several other items into an old green G.I. towel. Cutting the towel in two pieces, he used one piece for the camera; the second piece provided him a means by which to grip the small cables.