Yoshida was one of the few survivors of the Yamato (the world's largest battleship, not a spacecraft). In 1946, shortly after the end of the war, he wrote a memoir, which the censors didn't allow to be printed. He tinkered with it, and various versions were published after the end of censorship. This translation is based on the last, from 1952.
Yoshida was a junior officer, not from the naval academy, who wound up spending most of the battle on the bridge. He survived thanks to a series of coincidences and lucky timings (e.g. the whirlpool from the ship's sinking was dragging him down, but the second magazine explosion changed the water flow and pushed him up).
It is written in present tense, but his memories may have the benefit of years of contemplation. The original work was shorter, and allegedly more antagonistic to the Americans and in solidarity with the dead--I'd be interested in reading that one too, but I gather it hasn't been translated. FWIW, he converted to Christianity in 1948, in between editions.
The sailors all knew this was a "special attack" and that they were going to die. A great deal of the book is what this knowledge means to him and to the others he knew, and about the conflict between wanting to live, wanting to die nobly, and wanting to at least accomplish something. And what does it mean for one to live and another to die? He records some mental arguments with a judge. He also describes some of the people he knew onboard (not all died then), and sometimes what he knows of their families.
FWIW, a subordinate who does not immediately salute is supposed to be punched in the head.
I'm not sure he cites the rebelliousness of some of the trainees in school accurately--or perhaps there's a translation problem. But then, perhaps utter obedience isn't incompatible with a semi-anonymous "This is stupid" note.
Read it.
UPDATE: A couple of things I didn't know: The captain had leeway to change the mission to fit the circumstances, and, though it was a closely guarded secret, the Yamato had enough fuel to return from Okinawa if the captain chose. And, when the ship's list was obviously fatal, the captain issued "all hands on deck" instead of "abandon ship". More might have swum to safety if they had known to get off right away.
4 comments:
Interesting. I'll have to read this some time.
It's funny that you made this clarification: "(the world's largest battleship, not a spacecraft)"
I remember watching that as a kid. I had no idea of the history of it back then.
Not having read it, I can't comment directly about this:
"I'm not sure he cites the rebelliousness of some of the trainees in school accurately--or perhaps there's a translation problem. But then, perhaps utter obedience isn't incompatible with a semi-anonymous "This is stupid" note."
But from the Japanese side, at least at the beginning the war was one long series of military insubordinations as the Army decided to make policy. I think that was one reason absolute obedience was stressed -- officers were far too prone to go off on their own initiative.
That initiative did lead to some impressive successes early in the war, so the government often looked the other way.
It seems to have been a weird combination. I don't know the culture well enough, but it seems as though junior officers' insubordination was honored (not officially, but socially) if it lay in the direction of extra aggressiveness.
There are examples of that happening higher up as well. E.g., when the Japanese army took control of Manchuria, they did it on their own and presented it as a fait accompli to the Japanese government. The government then was faced with either quietly endorsing an autonomous army along with gaining the coal, etc., in Manchuria, or the deep international embarrassment of admitting they had lost control of their army and giving Manchuria back. They backed the army leadership.
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