ClickOkinawa.com - Oral Histories

Higa Takejiro
published Oct 13, 2018

An Oral History

Takejiro Higa's interview courtesy of the Center for Oral History.
Photographs courtesy of Takejiro Higa.
The Hawaii Nisei Project © 2006

MK: This is our third interview session with Mr. Takejiro Higa on July 8, 2005.
You mentioned that when you were in Okinawa with the MIS [Military Intelligence Service], you did meet your schoolteacher. And maybe you can describe to us how that happened.
TH: Okay. I think it was within the first ten days after landing, the MP [military police] guarding the civilian evacuations center. So, one man, kind of nice physique and well mannered, he suspected he might be a Japanese imposter, Japanese soldier. So called for interrogation, interrogator. And I believe the camp was very close to our division headquarters so I was sent. And, of course, I often was asked to go to camp because I can speak the language—both Japanese and Okinawan native language. But anyway, for some reason, I was ordered to go to the particular camp to interrogate this suspected imposter. The minute I saw him, I recognized him. So I just looked in surprise and say, I yell out, I say, “Sensei,” teacher.
So he look at me in equal surprise, “Oh, it’s you.” And between the two of us, so choked up, we couldn’t say anything else.
So I told my escort officer, Captain Fernandez, “This man used to be my teacher during the seventh and eighth grade in the grade school. He’s not a Japanese soldier, so please send him back to the camp where his family is retained.” So that’s the end of it.
And then I never saw him until after the war when I first visited him about either 1948 or — [19]47 or [19]48. After that, each time I go to Okinawa, I visit him and we talk about old, good old days, including the hardship, hard training, or the hard discipline he imposed on me during the school days (chuckles). So, unfortunately, he passed away two—three years ago.
MK: And . . .
TH: So real sad.
MK: And I think you mentioned that on one of the occasions that you did meet him later on, he described what he saw that day.
TH: Yes. On the day of invasion, April 1, he said he was atop the hill known as Kakazu Hill. It’s a few miles, a few hundred yards away from so-called Futenma area, high ground. See, he was watching the invasion, beachhead, and never dreamed that one of his former students would be among them. Of course, he had no idea. So he took me over there to the site and then sure enough, from there, you can see the entire beachhead as if you’re looking down Ala Moana Beach from the high ground. So I can just imagine his shock when he saw the fleet, invasion fleet, just literally cover the entire west coast of Okinawa, yeah. Hundreds of ’em. Ships. Various types. And he’s not the only one who said that. It was so thick, you can almost step one ship to the other, one by one. Covered, entire beachhead was covered with black spots.
MK: And, you know, you mentioned that your teacher was in a camp. What kind of camp was . . .
TH: Civilian — what do you call? — evacuation center. All the civilians were being rounded up and they put ’em in a camp. Must be near the beachhead, yeah. Just temporary shelter. There were hundreds of them over there in the camp surrounded by barbed-wire fence. And the MP posted here and there, yeah.
MK: You know, as an interpreter, were you ever assigned to any duties at that camp?
TH: No, no. I was assigned to the combat unit, so my job was with the combat division headquarters.
MK: And at about that time, you also mentioned another meeting with a Japanese colonel.
TH: Oh, this was much, much later. And, again, MP spotted this man among all the civilians in that camp. I don’t know which camp it was, yeah. Anyway, MP, another MP, looked at this man, observing his behavior, and he looked different. So he suspected the guy might be a Japanese soldier, imposter. So I was called. And I forgot where the camp was, but anyway, knowing that he claimed to be a civilian, I didn’t ask any military questions. So I asked, the first question I asked him was his name. And he gave some kind of Okinawan name. Next I asked him what village he come from. And at that point, he made a fatal mistake, telling me he’s from village known as Yamachi. It happened to be the very next village I grew up with. So, I pretend I didn’t know anything about Yamachi, I start asking all kind of questions: location in relation to a well-known location, like a beachhead, and another small town known as Futema, and a big city Naha. What direction is that from, you know, Naha. In what direction, north or south . . .
Okay. I don’t know exactly what time of the period it was, but anyway, one day, MP suspected one man in the camp being a Japanese imposter because of his behavior, very straight and rigid, you know, very disciplined behavior. So called for interrogation, interrogator, and I was selected to go. Okay. And I went to start investi—interrogating, and first thing I ask him was his name. And he gave some sort of Okinawan name, I forgot what it was he told me, but anyway, he gave me Okinawan name. And then, knowing that he was a suspected imposter, I didn’t ask him any military questions, just ask his name, what village in Okinawa he come from. At that point, he made the fatal mistake of telling me he’s from village known as Yamachi, which happens to be the very same, next village that I grew up for fourteen years. So I know the village like the back of my hand. So as if I don’t know anything about the area, I start asking him a lot of questions: location relative to known area, like in relation to Naha, what direction is it. Is it south, north, or east, or west, you know, as if I don’t know anything about the area. And, doesn’t match. So then I say, “Oh, is there any small town nearby?” There’s a little town known as Futema. “Is it far from there?” Again, the story doesn’t match. And there’s another town slightly farther away, Awase. So I asked him again. All wrong. So I couldn’t stand any longer. So I look at him straight in the face, in Okinawan lingo, “Just tell me, exactly who are you?”
He said, “Huh, huh, huh?”
“That’s right, you didn’t understand a word I said to you because I’m asking you in Okinawan lingo, ‘Who are you?’ So far, your answers all wrong. You say you’re from Yamachi, all wrong. See, for your information, I grew up in the next village known as Shimabuku, so I know Yamachi like the back of my hand. I know exactly where that location is, what the place looked like.”
Then at that point he said, “Shimatta. Damn, I met the wrong guy.” And he confessed.
He said actually, he’s a full colonel in the Japanese army. And, unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to verify that, but knowing that he tells me he’s a ranking officer, Japanese army, I figured, no sense ask him all kinds of military questions, he ain’t going to tell me the truth anyway. If he does tell me, going be all baloney, you know.
So I said, “Ah, okay.” So next question I asked him, “Why were you among the civilian evacuation camp?”
He said, “Oh, if I stayed with the civilians, I might get better treatment than the PW [Prisoner of War] camp.”
So at that point I told him, “You know, so-and-so, America does not give any wrong treatment to prisoners or civilians. We treat ’em according to the Geneva convention. We treat ’em all equally. Since you are a military man, I have no choice but sent you to PW camp.” So I called MP, “Take this guy to (chuckles)—take him to PW camp.” That was the end of it. I wish I had the chance to verify whether he was a real full colonel or what, but I didn’t have the time, nor the opportunity to verify. If he was a real full colonel, I’m sure it was a shock to him, too. His face, I tell you, I can’t forget it. “Shimatta. Wrong person I met.” (Laughs) Now, if he said somewhere else, a village I don’t know anything about it, he might have got away. But as I say, he made a fatal mistake of telling me he’s from the village of Yamachi, which I know very well. (Chuckles) So, that’s another coincidence, you know, just luck that I was able to bust him. Yeah, if he said something somewhere else that I don’t know anything about the village, he might have got away.
MK: You know, you mentioned that you spoke to him in the Okinawan dialect. From what you know about the other MIS men that you worked with, how many of you knew the Okinawan dialect?
TH: Only one, Taro Higa. Taro Higa is the original 100th Infantry member (coughs), he fought in Italy with the 100th. And after VE-Day, he came home to be discharged. But seeing that how civilians suffered in the European war, instead of getting discharged, he requested transfer to Okinawa.
Go to Okinawa instead of getting discharged. And he came to Okinawa, I believe sometime June. Of course, at that time, I didn’t know that we were going to — Okinawa battle going to end in June, see. But anyway, very close to the end at the final count. About — I don’t know, as I said, I don’t know exactly when he came to Okinawa, but he came to Okinawa, and then he start working with the military, urging civilians to come out from the cave. And he’s a trilingual. He grew up in Okinawa, too. So he starts speaking Okinawan, as well as Japanese, into people hiding in the cave. And at that time, I have no idea that June 23 will be the final organized resistance.
MK: So having that knowledge, the knowledge of the Okinawan dialect . . .
TH: I’m sure it helped a lot. See, I used to go to the cave, and just to give them some feeling of comfort and ease, I always used to introduce myself in Japanese. Who I am and where my parents come from. Although I was born in Hawai‘i, I grew up in Okinawa for fourteen years. Repeat several times my name, being easy to remember, yeah. So, and right away, I start saying the same thing in Okinawan lingo, several times. And that was they key to a lot of people, according to what I heard later. And I think I showed you a picture of a lady who came to see me, 50th anniversary. She said she clearly remembered my name because it’s such a short name, and the fact that I spoke to them in Okinawan lingo. Actually, I went to many caves, but she’s the only person I saw face-to-face thank me. (Chuckles) And she told me that on the day we met, another group of ladies were supposed to come with her, but in the end, they shame and they refused to come together. So she came alone with her daughter. So, four of us, including the Japanese newspaper reporter, Okinawan newspaper reporter, by the name of Miwa Saito. And there’s a Ryükyü Shimpo reporter. And she brought the daughter, young daughter, I don’t know how old she was, but anyway, she came. We met at Kentucky Fried Chicken, over a cup of coffee (chuckles). I remember, I thought was Jack in the Box, but I look at the pictures, oh, it’s a Kentucky Fried Chicken (laughs). Coffee cup. I think I showed you the picture, didn’t I?
MK: Mm-hmm [yes].
TH: Yeah. Before that, I always thought it was Jack in the Box. But I have to correct myself, it was Kentucky Fried Chicken someplace in Naha. And she told me about the cave situation, and how she came out after several minutes later. She said two hundred—a little over two hundred people were in there, grouped into ten, fifteen, and each group having hand grenade, ready to blow themselves up. So when young girl sitting next to her tapped my shoulder and thanked me, personally, that kind of hit me, you know. I don’t mind telling you, I had tears in my eye. I told them, “Thank you.”
She tells me, “Because of you, I’m here.”
She must have been a young kid because, I mean, there’s fifty years later, she must have been only about, at the most, thirty something. Maybe between twenty-five and thirty. Young girls, hard to tell the age, but she tapped my shoulder and thanked me. That kind of hit me.
Okay, the very last instance I had in Okinawa was, again, very close to the end of the battle. Of course, again, at that time, I had no idea battle’s going to end. After the fact — it was, I think, about a week before the actual end of the incident — two shabbily-looking dressed GIs were brought into our headquarters for interrogation. Very shabby, you know, all broken uniform, and shredded, yeah. And so I look at them, pitiful sight. I give them water, and I try to give them chocolate candy, D Ration, we called it. D Ration, about the size of a quarter pound butter. Very hard chocolate. And this chocolate, we called it D Ration, each guy has two apiece before we land. And I was told that one of those of D Ration, if you eat that and drink sufficient amount of water, it’s equivalent to one meal. Very nutritious high-energy bar. So I try to give them one apiece. They wouldn’t eat. So I look at them, “How come you don’t eat?”
They say, “Maybe it’s poison.”
I tell them, “Stupid!” I yell in Japanese, you know, “Bakatare!” So I make believe - I show them that it’s not poison. I nibble a little bit, yeah. They look at me nibbling, so I give back. They gobble up in no time. You know, one big chocolate, you know. Hard chocolate. So, after gobbling up one, I told my brother, “Eh, you guys still get the D Ration left?”
They say, “Yeah.”
“Okay, give me two.” Two guys, you know, from two guys, I get one each. I give ’em, let ’em eat. Give them all the water they want to drink. And I start question: name, rank, serial number. That’s military standard interrogation, yeah. So name is Okinawan name, see. I recognize the name. So I say, “Oh, what village you come from?” And certain village. “You?” Same village, you know. And the same village, very familiar village to me. It’s the same village from which we assembled in the same school. Same school district. So, “What school did you go to?” Same school, yeah. Everything, answer, lead to me saying that they are my classmates. Indication. So I look at him. “Was there a teacher named Nakandakari Shunsho in your school?”
They look at me, “How come you know him?”
I tell you, “I am a graduate of a United States Military Intelligence Language Service school. I know everything about you guys, so don’t lie to me.” You know, I’m straight-faced, now. “Don’t lie to me.” So next question I ask, “Was this student from Shimabuku, Takejiro Higa, in your class?”
“Huh? How come you know about him?”
“Didn’t I tell you, I know everything about you guys?”
“Yes, there was one,” so-and-so.
“Where is he now?”
One of ’em said, “I think Higa went back to Hawai‘i, I don’t know.”
The other guy said, “We haven’t seen each other for some years now, I don’t know where he is.”
So I look at two of them, and say, “If you look at him today, you would think you would recognize him?”
They say, “We don’t think so,” you know, shaking their heads, see.
At that point, I couldn’t stand any longer. So I look at, straight in the face, “You stupid, don’t you recognize your own classmate?”
“Huh?” In Japanese, of course, you know.
Then they start crying.
“Why are you crying?”
“You know, until now, after this interrogation is over and our usefulness is over, you guys might take us over the hill and shoot. But now that my own classmate is on the other side of the fence, we figure our lives will be saved. We are crying for happiness.”
And at that point, I couldn’t stand it any longer, too. To tell the truth, yeah, three of us grabbed each other’s shoulder, and I cried, (Clicking sound) too. Because if I didn’t run away when I was sixteen years old, I may be in the same boots as they were, somebody may be interrogating me, you know. I couldn’t hold back any longer. And to this day, (Clicking stops) when I think about it, I get cold sweat.
So after the war, I visited Okinawa many, many times. Each time when I go to Okinawa, Ryükyü Shimpo used to write about me looking for a little girl and the old lady I met in the beachhead. And if they’re still alive, I want to meet ’em, you know. And I was looking for my classmate. I never go to see ’em. At the 50th anniversary, the son of one of the deceased classmates saw the article, contacted the newspaper, and [I] arranged to meet with him. And then so the newspaper reporter, my cousin who was driving me around, and I think was Nakandakari sensei, too, I think, who went to see this boy, one of the sons of the classmates that went to hakamairi [visit graves].
The other one, nobody seems to know what happened. They think after the war, he got crazy. Nobody knows what happened to him. Every time I go to there, I’m looking for them. And newspaper article writes up about my visitation. But I never could meet them. Nobody knew what happened to them. Maybe nobody even talked about it, being a prisoner, or, you know, shame, this and that. Nobody knew. Except the son, you know, fifty years later, he remembers his father talking about it. So that was the last time I saw any of the people that I was connected with the civilian Okinawa battle.
END OF INTERVIEW
Off-site video, "Typhoon of Steel" includes Higa-san commentary.