I have been busy lately with work – one which entails perusing several archival sources and books, and picking out a few details from it for my paper. It’s undoubtedly a tedious process.
French novelist Gustave Flaubert would describe writing history as similar to “drinking an ocean and pissing a cupful”.
Quite positively though, this process of writing new historical researches has given my mind the chance not to remain stagnant.
Consequently, it helps me focus on other things that are not necessarily negative (although the subject of my paper, that is, Japanese war crimes, is quite negative).
Recently, I was surprised – well, also elated – to have come across a letter written by the subject of my current paper, Col. Satoshi Oie, commanding officer of the 174th Independent Infantry Battalion, otherwise known as the Oie Butai of Negros Oriental.
He and his men were assigned to Negros Oriental from June 1944 to September 1945.
The night before he was executed, he wrote to his family: “I am ashamed that, knowing that love is everything in life, I have been unable to show it.” Then he went on to say: “Love one another! – these are my last words.”
It must be noted that the Colonel was a practicing Buddhist of the Jodo Sect, and was a believer of Amidha Buddha.
Anyway, oft-times, these Japanese war criminals or perpetrators have been demonized in history as harsh and draconic in their dealings with civilians or Allied Prisoners of War.
In the case of Colonel Oie, however, he was known – even to the guerrillas of the 7th Military District – as being kind-hearted to the civilians of Dumaguete and Negros Oriental as a whole, whom he considered his children.
I suppose, and this is just my inference from the sources I have perused so far, that he was simply a victim of circumstances; most of the atrocities from June 1944 to September 1945 in Negros Oriental were done mostly by his junior officers and the Kempeitai.
He took the responsibility though, and was the one executed for the atrocities committed by his men. This, however, does not exculpate him for the war crimes, as there is always the burden of command responsibility.
Suffice it to say, his case – and perhaps many other cases – shows the complexity of war, especially in the war crimes trial, and how we should also try to look at the nuances of World War II history.
As I’ve written before, things should not always be seen as a black and white.
Below is an excerpt [an English translation] of the Colonel’s last letter to his family. This was written on 22 October 1948. I was able to find this letter in the book, The Way of Deliverance: Three Years with the Condemned Japanese War Criminals written by a Japanese chaplain and Buddhist priest, Shinsho Hanayama.
Respectfully I write:
At one o’clock on the night of October 22, I end this life under the punishment of death by shooting. It is really a significant day for me. To reflect now, I realize that I have always been causing you trouble, while at the same time I have always been unable to return any words of thanks.
My happy return to the holy land of Amida – for this too I must be grateful to the favor of Buddha. “To give thanks for Buddha’s favor” – only this I must endeavor to do till my end.
I am afraid my parents, wife, children, brothers and sisters will mourn my death especially. But I bet them not to lament. It is all due to karma that I die today – it is my fate. After I have arrived at the holy land, I will return here again by all means and engage in the great work of saving unawakened people.
After I lost my father in childhood, my mother took his place and my three elder brothers watched over me particularly. After my marriage, my wife’s father gave me a parent’s love, and her mother also was fond of me, and her brothers and sisters were as devoted to me as they could have been to real brother. Needless to say, I have also been loved and cherished by my wife and children. Thus I have lived a perfectly happy life. Only I am ashamed that I have rendered the Emperor too meager service, and that I have been unable to display the true love which I felt for my parents, wife, children, brothers, and sisters.
I am ashamed that, knowing that love is everything in life, I have been unable to show it. But Amida Buddha mercifully saves even this worthless fellow full of earthly lust. This man who, even in the situation he faces today, is scarcely able to give himself up to sincere religious meditation. Bathing me in the light of salvation, he takes me to His holy land. How merciful He is!
What else should we be thankful for, if not for this?
My elder brothers! Love one another. My nieces and nephews! Love one another.
My young brothers and sisters! Love one another. My wife and children! Love one another with the mother as the center. My friends! Love one another.
Love one another! – these are my last words. We have to economize on food and clothing, but there is no need to economize on affection and love.
Do not utter harsh words. Do not speak ill of others. Do not try others. Nothing can make life more beautiful or give it more meaning than this one word, love.
I feel that if you can fully understand this love – that is, the Mercy of Buddha – my death today will not have been in vain.
Now it is five o’clock in the evening. I still have seven hours before my departure for the holy land.
Seichi! Take care of everything after I am gone! You were a First Lieutenant in the Army, were you not? Only twenty-six years old and already First Lieutenant – you are a good boy.
Reijin! I hope you will become the manager of the bank. No matter how the world may change, faithfulness to one’s superiors will be a cardinal virtue.
Teruko! Serve your husband devotedly. The path of a true woman, after all, is to do everything faithfully. It will bear fruit in the long run.
When I think of how you three must feel, I am of course overwhelmed with grief. But do not make yourselves miserable. With your brother Seichi as leader, serve your mother faithfully and love one another.
“Loving one another” means exchanging words of love. It is not enough merely to cherish love in the heart. You must utter it in words. From today on, don’t speak any harsh words, at least among brothers and sisters. If you are tempted to do so, sit before the family altar and ask this father’s advice.
As Teruko is a girl, please be gentle to her! Please speak gentle words to her for my sake.
As Takako is a young girl who has lost her father’s love, please do not forget to love her yourselves. Do not merely think of love, but utter it in words.
Seichi! Do not hesitate to speak your love when you feel it.
Takako and Teruko, you may speak freely to your elder brother. Seichi, be gentle to them for my sake.
Reijin! As the practical business of the family, you may speak frankly to your elder brother and ask him for anything. I permit it. Teruko! You may be naughty to brother Seichi, brother Reijin, or sister Ryuko. I permit it. For even if you should be naughty as my child, Buddha will save you.
I want to remain close to the most unhappy child. The most unhappy child! I shall stay with you. Unfortunate children, I am always with you. When I think that these are my last words, I feel that I love you more than ever.
Fumiko! Be filial to our old mother as ever. And love your younger brother and siter. I am grateful for your efforts down today. Help my brother at Mikekado in my stead. I fear you will have to endure much suffering from now on. I feel very sorry for you. You have brought up three children admirably. Well done! You have really done well. I am sure my father thank you from his tomb. Until today, I have been in Tokyo and in the Philippines, but from today on I shall be with you forever. The thought of it makes me glad.
During the fighting in the mountains, whenever my subordinates were dying either in action or of illness, I ordered them to shout, “Banzai for the Emperor!” In my battle today, I am also going to die happily praising the emperor’s name. I may look like a mere prisoner now. But I am a Colonel of the Army. (When you visited me, I might seem miserable with handcuffs on, and flabby – life in the cell, with the good meals, has been too much for me.) I will shout “Banzai for the Emperor!” in so loud a voice that it will reach his palace. I have not yet been discharged from my service. It is certain that I am still a son of the Emperor.
It is six o’clock now. I have still six hours. I want to continue writing during these hours.
A train is whistling outside somewhere.
In my Philippine days, I was not so sensitive to such sounds. Now, as if I am loath to leave this world, they strike my ears. Though doomed to execution, I have not shed a single tear. My audacity is really limitless. I am very pleased that when I was told I must die I did not turn pale. The span of human life is usually fifty years. Five years have passed since I was that age. If I remember correctly, my father died at fifty-three; so I have outlived him only two years. But when I think of my subordinates who died young, I cannot possibly wish for more. These subordinates are now the foundation of new Japan, and now I am going to join them. To be compelled to go on living fifty years would be horrible. I long for the holy land of Buddha. I think constantly of the land of eternal life.
Nevertheless, I have not given up life here yet – probably because I am an ordinary man. But at the same time, I realize that, even if I lived on, I should only trouble my children. So I have a mind to go first to the holy land to guide them. I feel also as though I were dreaming. I feel as if this execution were non my concern. I wonder if isn’t a play on the stage. But even if it is a dream, at least it is certain that I am saved by Buddha.
It must already be seven o’clock. I still have five hours. I’ve just happened to recall the last writing of Submarine Captain Sakuma.
Even if Lieutenant A or Lieutenant B pretends to show you kindness, you must never accept it. Lieutenant A was sentenced to death by me in the mountains for the following reasons:
That he retreated from Palinpinon without my approval.
That at the time of the retreat he left one squad of machine-gunners behind so that they were annihilated.
That he retreated leaving his orderly behind.
That he was sent out twice at a patrol and twice made false reports.
Lieutenant B once hurt a man of another unit on the ship and was punished by me. After that he served me faithfully and I also loved him. But after all, he is a playboy from the redlight district of Kumamoto. As his actions are unpredictable and he can’t be counted on, you should avoid his company.
Most of my subordinates went to Palawan Islands and died in action there. I want you to go and see the widow of Lieutenant Doki. He was a good man. Captain Oda died in the fighting around Dumaguete City. He was a good man too. Most of the others died in action as well. I feel sorry for them and wish they were living today. It’s a dream – just a bad dream.
The time is passing very fast. It must be nearly eight o’clock now.
Upon receiving the news of my death, you will weep and lament. But don’t do this. Death is a fate ordained by Heaven. Instead of weeping, you had better take care of yourselves. I hope all will go well with you after I am gone.
I feel as if I were keeping vigil for the death of some other person. The American guard speaks to me kindly, and at times I talk with him in my broken English. He asked me just now, “Aren’t you sleepy?” To which I answered smilingly, “I’m not going to sleep tonight.”
Tonight, I can smoke as much as I want. I had a delicious dinner too. I have finished my last supper. I am ready to go to the execution ground. I feel it will be easy. When I was given the sentence of death today, I really wanted to smile. It is true. I am surprised than when one has crossed the deathline one can feel like this.
To me this life has become tiresome. I do not want to live by any means. And so I can’t help feeling happy. I want to die with a smile. Though usually I weep easily, tonight I have not shed a tear. I think of singing but do not actually sing, and I imagine my coming journey of death but feel no unrest at all.
I think this is owing to my religious faith. I have entrusted myself to God. How many times have I had to thank God in the past? I think that my returning to Japan this time is also entirely owing to the mercy of Buddha.
When Fumiko said to me, “I feel as if there were no God or Buddha,” I sympathized with her partly. But to reflect quietly too is the mercy of Buddha. Buddha will surely lead us to happiness!
Fumiko! Believe in Buddha. I shall wait for you there, cleaning half of my seat for you. End of quote.
*****
I have deliberately omitted the parts on his brothers and sisters as I think it is repetitive, more or less similar to what he told his wife and children. In the end, from the tone of his letter, one can really see the faithfulness of the Colonel not only to Amidha Buddha but also to the Emperor. His message to his second eldest son, who was presumably a banker, was: “No matter how the world may change, faithfulness to one’s superiors will be a cardinal virtue.”
This might very well explain the type of man Colonel Oie was – he spent most of his life in the military, and rose to the rank of Colonel during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines. Suffice it to say, he took responsibility for the war crimes personally committed in Negros Oriental by his men from June 1944 to September 1945, and died for it.
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Author’s email: [email protected]
