The Encroaching Flames
IT WAS NOW MID-JULY, AND THE SUMMER HEAT HAD officially hit its stride. The region was always hot and humid this time of year, mind you, but by now, it had become borderline unbearable.
The soldiers at the base had the day off from training today, so they’d gathered at the Tsuru-ya Mess Hall in the late morning for an early lunch. Akira’s unit, however, was apparently on cleaning duty or something, so they’d be arriving a bit later. As I waited on some other customers, I noticed they were wearing much grimmer expressions than usual, so I listened in to hear what they were talking about.
“I heard the Okinawa defense force got totally wiped out, too.”
“Man, are you kidding me?”
“Wish I was. Sounds like the island’s already under UN control.”
“Looks like things are finally coming to a head…”
“Read in the newspapers that they’ve been doing major air raids in Tokyo, Osaka, Kobe, and Nagoya, too. Big firebombings with B-29s.”
“Damn… They’re going after every single major city, huh…?”
“They’ve been evacuating people out into the countryside, but who knows how long it’ll be before they start bombing out in the boonies too…”
I could feel the foreboding tension in the air. I let out a sigh.
From what these men were saying, the allies had been conducting so-called “carpet bombings” in places like Tokyo and Osaka, with civilian casualties numbering in the tens or even hundreds of thousands. Fleets of American fighter jets so numerous they blocked out the sky were dropping an endless supply of bombs on anything and everything, burning homes and schools to the ground, covering entire neighborhoods in a “carpet” of flames. The goal was not just to take as many lives as possible, but also to destroy our material resources and demoralize the Japanese people to the point where we would lose our will to fight. It was a horrifying way of waging war; I shuddered just to think of it. It felt so surreal to think that these atrocities were happening not in the pages of a history book, but right here and now, in the era of Japan that I was currently living in.
What could have compelled the Americans to commit such wanton acts of destruction? Well, honestly, I knew that it wasn’t just the United States; Japan was no doubt doing things just as bad or even worse to the Americans and their other enemies. After all, I’d been taught in my own time that the US only entered the war after an unprovoked attack by Japan on one of its naval ports. I wondered how in the world relations between our two countries had deteriorated to such a point that we were warring like this—treating each other like mortal enemies over a grudge for which there was no remedy but senseless killing.
It was especially crazy to me, given what great allies Japan and the US were back in my own era. I wished I could somehow convey to everyone here that in just seventy years’ time, Japanese citizens and American citizens would be on such good terms that we’d be vacationing in each other’s countries, studying abroad, and getting married to each other. Not to mention all the American foods we’d adopted in the modern day as staple parts of our own cuisine—hamburgers, French fries, pancakes… The list just went on. And I knew the same was true in reverse as well; there were many Americans who adored Japanese food and culture and were huge fans of things like manga and anime. It wasn’t even uncommon for Japanese people and American people to meet over the internet and bond over their mutual passion for such things.
It was entirely possible that the children and grandchildren of the very men who were out there fighting and killing each other right this minute would become friends, lovers, or even family in the not-so-distant future. When I thought about it that way, it really did make the whole war feel pointless and futile—just a tragic means for our respective governments to pursue their own geopolitical ends.
As I let out another wistful sigh, I heard Tsuru call my name from the kitchen, so I headed back there to see what she wanted.
“Would you be able to go run a quick errand for me?” she asked.
“Oh, sure thing,” I said. There wasn’t much that needed to be done at the mess hall, so I didn’t mind.
“Thing is, we’re almost fresh out of rice, you see. It won’t be nearly enough to feed all the soldiers who’ll be coming by today, so it’d be great if you could take this over to the Tajima household and trade it for a bag of rice.”
She then handed me a gorgeous purple kimono—one she’d shown off to me before as though it was one of her most prized possessions. It was made from the finest meisen silk, so it had a beautifully elegant sheen and was incredibly smooth to the touch.
“What…?” I said in disbelief. “Are you sure? I mean, you love this thing…”
“Yes, dear. I’m positive,” she said with a bright smile. “No point in an old bat like me owning a lovely kimono she’ll probably never wear anyhow. Far more important to make sure our soldiers go home this evening with a full belly.”
Just like the men in Akira’s unit, her eyes were unclouded and free from any doubt as she spoke. I folded her precious kimono up in cloth and clutched it tightly to my chest.
“You headed out, Yuri-chan?” said one of the soldiers at a table I’d been waiting, as I was leaving the mess hall. “Be careful out there.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I will.”
I waved goodbye to the men, then stepped out into the hot summer sun.
I was glad I’d brought a hand towel, because I was sweating like a dog after just a few steps. Thank goodness I took a bath this morning, I thought to myself as I consulted the map that Tsuru had drawn out for me.