Infamy

Infamy(Anthony Colombo) I am here alone. I no longer have any idea what time of day it is or even what day it is. I am writing this by the light that a very small bulb would give off. I think it was months ago but now it could be years because time has no meaning any more. I may just be waiting to die because I know no one even knows that I am here. I tried to start a log to honor my endeavors and after looking at it I gave up. The pages are here and if I am ever found they will be read. In them you will see me as a young naval officer full of the propaganda of the time. I was to become a warrior god. I would not only bring honor to my father but all my ancestors. I would not just die for my emperor god but I would, by dying in war, become a god myself.

I wasn’t supposed to be alone. In training I had a second in command. Think about that... a second in command on a boat that only had two officers. He was Petty officer Nomora, and was killed in an accident with a torpedo. I only know that the problem was with the propellant oxygen. I also know that a matter of a few meters saved me from being killed in the same accident.

I completed my training on my own and didn’t meet the officer who would become Nomora's replacement until I was on board the I-436 captained by Captain Nobuto. When we were at sea for a day, I was called to the captain’s cabin and introduced to Petty officer Himemoto, he too is dead now, and I am alone.

The, I-436 was a fleet submarine and it was to carry my Ha5 mini sub on its deck to its debarkation point. Petty officer Himemoto and I would then take the mini sub into the American Naval Base at Pearl Harbor. There we would wait for our torpedo bombers, and when they began their attack. we and the other mini subs would use the confusion to launch our torpedo's. That didn’t happen. When the attack began we rose to take a sighting through our periscope then submerged to fire our torpedoes. It was at that time that there were several explosions in the water and our sea cocks began to leak. As we diverted our attention to their repair a much larger and much closer explosion occurred on our starboard side that threw us to port. I hit the fire control panel with such force that I was knocked unconscious. When I regained consciousness the bombing was still underway. We were resting on our port side and every attempt we made to right the sub met with no success at all. Again time passed, the noise and chaos slowed and then there was only silence. A long time went by and there was nothing that we didn’t try, nothing worked.

I am sleeping more now that the battle is over. I think I should go mad if I try to stay awake. Still, sleep is a relief from what is happening to us, and in that respect is much welcomed. My dreams are of other times and places before the war. It is of times when the sun was bright and warm; the air was filled with the sent of cherry blossoms, and young maidens wearing jasmine in their hair.

I was asleep. During my slumber Fujison took his own life. We have been told that this is an honorable thing to do. We were told that such a death is a way to restore honor that has been lost. Fuji did nothing to shame himself. What honor was he trying to restore? I sit here looking at a man I knew for only a short time, not even enough time to talk of anything but our training and our mission. He is at peace, and I am left with what? Honor? Whose honor? The more I look at him the more I think death was a coward’s choice. I feel as though he betrayed me.

It has been many hours since I last slept. At first I welcomed sleep. Now, I fear it. The dreams are no longer pleasant. I have the same dream over and over. The sea water floods in upon me and I can't breath, but before I die, the water turns to the dead bodies of men killed in the air attack. Some are burned so badly that they are barely recognizable as human beings, and others maimed beyond reason. All of them are reaching for me, pulling at me, and Fuji is with them, smiling.

Kako, forgive me for bringing your spirit to a place like this. I hope I don’t dishonor you, but I must think of other things. My soul is so near despair. I have no one now but you. The thought of you seems to add light to this dark fowl smelling little space. I miss your voice; the way you giggled when I did something stupid to embarrass you. When I think about you, I can feel you near me. I can smell your sweet scented hair. Thinking about you, I am glad you are not here with me. It is no place for a person of your delicate nature. I am so sorry that I have your spirit here with me. Please, Kako forgive me.

Kako, I must have fallen asleep again, but this time it wasn't as bad as before. This time I was able to dream of you and our times together. If I'd have died during the dream, I couldn’t have asked for a better gift. My death, however, is not yet to be. It seems that I have much to suffer before my time here is done. I don’t understand what gods or forces of nature required me to return to this place. Time after time, my soul will float free only to be pulled back here.

Lately, I can hear the sounds above me. They are the sounds of large ships. It seems that the lagoon has become very busy. Our attack had to be a success. I wonder if these ships are our magnificent navy coming to occupy the Hawaiian Islands. Then too, there are times when the sea is silent for long periods and the silence itself is deafening. It is during these times that all I hear is the metal hull of my vessel creaking as it contracts and expands with the temperature of the water outside. It is during these times that I wish the plates would buckle and let the water in, and then I would be able to sleep without dreaming.

Kako, will we ever see one another again? I don't want to think of you with someone else and at the same time I know you are young with much to offer someone. I would like your happiness to be with me, but I don't think that is to be. I still want you to enjoy life. Try not to think of me here where I am. Try to remember the times we had. I will. For me those will be the only times. For me time will just cease to exist. For me, my time means that all eternity was lived in a span of only four years - the years I lived after meeting you. For you, I wish your life to go on from good experience to good experience. For me, I will content myself with reliving, as long as I am able, the few very happy years we shared. It will be my life, and it will be enough.

All the while she paid me no mind. She whirled about her web, first one way then turning about the other way. She connected the strands of silk with the precision of a fine watchmaker. Finally, when she was finished she selected a place near the top of her wed, and then turned to face me. It was then that I felt she saw me and took notice. Now she sits on her web, saying nothing, and starring at me just waiting. I am saddened by the thought that she will have nothing in this place to trap in her snare. I sit looking at her wishing we could talk to one another. Maybe I will talk to her and she will listen. At any rate, I am no longer alone. I have something besides me alive in this place. We will survive, for a little while, together.

Kako, I took time to reread what I have written, and at my first reading I thought I should destroy it. I remembered a boy in school when I was very young. He had been to America. While there he met children his age that kept what they called diaries. These diaries are books in which the children said things they thought about but were reluctant to tell others about. The things were their most private thoughts. This boy, when he returned to our village and our school, brought the idea back with him. He kept the diary with his other school material. One day another boy found the diary, to its owner’s shame, he told the children about the things that had been written in it. The material placed on those pages was not meant to be shared with anyone. And the children were very mean to the author. They began to tease him and make fun of him until one day he didn't come to school. Days slipped into weeks and the boy never returned to school. I am thinking that if this were found, I would not want to be that boy.

The light is fading. The batteries must be getting weak. The filament in the bulb is a dull orange color. The light that is given off illuminates an area barely a millimeter around the bulb itself. The darkness is becoming so intense that it seems to be crushing the light back into the bulb. I have never been afraid of the dark, at least not until now. In the past, night would close around me like a comforting blanket; this is different. The darkness around me now is a living-breathing beast. It is a tiger waiting to pounce. I can feel it. I don't know what to do. Fujison saved his honor, but if I wait to long the darkness will be here and I will not be able to see. If I do a poor job of it, I disgrace not only myself but my family as well. Then too, I am the only one left here, so do I not dishonor myself by abandoning my post? How am I supposed to know these things? What is honor anyway? Who am I serving by being here? Kako, help me please!

Another ship passed above me. There seem to be more of them lately. They must be enormous. The sounds of their engines and the vibrations caused by the turning of their screws are like an earthquake. Their motors roar for long periods at a time. They sound so close that I am amazed their hulls don't slice my small craft in two. If only there was a way to identify their nationality. Our raid had to be a success because there were only two waves. We had to have taken the Americans by complete surprise. The ships I hear now must be ours coming to staff these islands as our base in the Pacific from which we might launch an attack against the west coast of the United States. The mere thought of such a courageous act brings strength to my body.

The feelings of a moment ago are gone replaced by an almost total despair. The light is dimmer still. The weight of the darkness is too hard to resist. Is our nation like the light? Admiral Yamamoto opposed a war against America. He called the Americans a sleeping tiger. He said if the war were to last more than six months, our country would lose. Was he right?

Kako, it is becoming more difficult to write these lines. All my body aches with stiffness. My joints seem to have a mind of their own. It is only with great effort that I am able to grasp the pen. My food rations have been cut in half so often that I am now living on an amount that would be a banquet for a cockroach. I try to move about but the space is so confined that real exercise is impossible. When I look at my hands I see my skin drawn tightly over my bones. I fear that I am dying a meter at a time. I find myself thinking more and more about honor. I am still not sure how such a thing as taking ones life restores honor. I moved Petty officer Himemotos body to the battery room to allow more space for me, but I look in on him every so often - there isn't much difference in our appearance lately. Death has begun to draw his skintight and now his lips resemble the face of a man in full laugh. I know that in death he is mocking me, calling me a coward, and taunting me to join him. Now, however, even if I decided to take my life, I don't believe I have the strength. I would need strength to hold the short sword, and even if I could make the first cut, how do I perform the thrust and twist necessary to do the thing correctly.

At first I saw hundreds of faces in my dreams. Now I see thousands of faces and among them are the faces of Himemoto, Nomora, Captain Nobuto and his crew from the I-436. In the beginning the Americans were grabbing at me trying to pull me in with them, but now they all are standing together. They are just standing and looking at me as if waiting for something to happen. They look sad not angry as they once looked. Are they sad for themselves, or me? What does this mean? Are we winning the war, or losing? Is this real or am I losing my mind? There are so many young faces. None of them appear to be much older than I. I see Japanese, Germans, Italians, English, Americans, Turks, Greeks, Romanians, Hungarians, and Africans - there are so many. What are they doing here? Why are they looking at me? What did I do to them? Are they waiting for me to join them? Are they upset because I am still alive and they are not? Why don't they say something? When there is a sound, it comes as low moans, inaudible weeping. Is it they or merely the creaking of the metal hull of my boat?

Kako, I don't know what is happening. Earlier I heard scrapping sounds on the outside of the hull. At first, I thought the noise was due to a crab migration as had happened so many times before. But, this is different; there is someone out there. I think they are fixing cables to the boat to lift it out of the water. A short time ago my vessel righted itself and now I can feel buoyancy. I don't know who is out there. Kako, I hope they are the Japanese Navy. I am so weak from the lack of food and my life in this tiny space, I fear I will be unable to give a good account of myself should they prove to be the enemy.


IP Press release: 3-21-96
Honolulu, Hawaii

Early today a spokesman for the United States Navy announced that a Ha Class mini-submarine, of the type used by the Japanese Navy during the attack on Pearl Harbor on December the 7th, 1941 had been found and raised from the floor of the harbor lagoon. The navy stated that the mini-sub was located about fifty yards from where the Battleship Arizona rests.

The navy admitted its surprise in finding the mini-sub, because until now, it was believed that only five of the small submarines were launched from the decks of their mother ships. While the Japanese held great hopes of success in the use of these subs, only one was able to fire a torpedo and that shot missed the target for which it was intended. Of the ten men aboard those subs, only one survived. Lieutenant Sakamaki, after nearly dying from toxic gas caused by leaking batteries, and almost drowning in the open sea, was washed ashore fifty miles from his goal. US military personnel found him, and he became the first Japanese prisoner of war.

Navy divers found ha-A-39, approximately fifty yards from the submerged hull of the Battleship Arizona. The divers were inspecting the battleships hull in an attempt to establish a rate of erosion caused by the salinity of the lagoon waters. One of the divers in the team reported hearing, "a soft tapping noise in the water." The diver stated that he followed the sounds to the nearly covered hull of the mini-sub.

The navy reported that while the sub suffered serious damage to its starboard side, the hull was intact and secure. The damage, the navy believes, was the result of the shock wave caused from the massive explosion that tore the Arizona in two sending her to the bottom with over fifteen hundred of her crew aboard.

The navy spokesman stated that the mummified remains of Lieutenant (jg) Kurasu and Petty officer Himemoto would be returned to the Japanese Government and their families. It is the hope of both governments; this act will finally bring to a close a chapter, in our joint histories, which now, neither side wished ever happened.