Stationed in Japan, Sgt. Richard Leonard Explains to His Friend Arlene Bahr Why, Despite All That Has Happened, He Does Not Hate the Japanese
Throughout the war, both the Japanese and the Americans vilified one another in vicious, dehumanizing propaganda campaigns. U.S. prisoners of war suffered some of the worst, most sadistic treatment imaginable in the hands of Japanese troops, and the hostility countless servicemen felt for the Japanese surpassed even their revulsion of the Nazis. But for many soldiers who were sent to Japan as part of the U.S. Army of Occupation, it was difficult to continue hating “the enemy” once they met with them face to face in times of peace. Four years of animosity would not fade quickly, but for men like Sgt. Richard Leonard, a twenty-four-year-old native of Ridgewood, New Jersey, the possibility of reconciliation was not inconceivable. Leonard even found himself becoming sympathetic toward the civilians he encountered, who, in his mind, were bullied into the war by imperialistic Japanese generals and warmongers. Leonard shared his postwar feelings in a letter to his friend Arlene Bahr after walking through what remained of the city of Kure, only miles from Hiroshima.
3 November 45
Dear Arlene,
Greetings from downtown Kure. Only it really isn’t “downtown” because there just isn’t a town. According to advance propaganda, the Army of Occupation was supposed to get “the best living quarters available.” The only hitch turned out to be that there are no living quarters at all. All that is left of Nagoya, Koyoto, Wakoyama, Kobe, Osaka, and Kure is a pile of ashes and burned steel. The bombing far exceeds anything I saw in London and that is saying a lot. I omitted Hiroshima from the above list of cities because you can’t even find the ashes there.
Take Nagoya, for example. It once had a 3,000,000 population—now there are 10 buildings left standing and acres of desolation. The casualties were tremendous, and for all practical purposes you can say Japan is at least 50% destroyed. The cities are about 90% destroyed.
We made an “assault landing” at Wakayama. (Our outfit is famous for making assault landings in peaceful countries.) We made our customary climb down the side of the transport into the assault boats armed to the teeth. We hit the beach fast and there were hundreds of Japs to meet us—selling souvenirs. From Wakayama we went to Nagoya and spent a week rebuilding some Jap barracks into liveable quarters. We finished rebuilding just in time to get moved to Kure. Here we have quarters on the second floor of what used to be an airplane factory. It’s pretty nice except there isn’t any roof on it and the nights are cold. The days are cold, too, and we still have our tropical clothing from the Philippines—so I’m pretty much in a state of shiver.
The food isn’t bad—if you can get any. Our outfit has actually been unable to draw any food since we’ve been here. The only way we’ve been able to eat is by splitting the outfit into groups of 20 and sending them out to beg meals from other outfits. But things are going to be better, they say. The army has promised to build a roof over us, and if we’re real good they’re going to give us some food and clothes! Lucky us!
Meanwhile we’re fraternizing to beat hell. The Japs are being as polite as they can be and are treating us like kings. They bow, salute, and felicitate us into extreme egotism and you just can’t hate them for hate’s sake. The average Jap doesn’t give a damn about “ruling the world” anymore than you or I do. He’s just an ordinary joker who went to war because he was told to, and he did the job the way he was told.
War is all phoney in the first place—I know that now. It’s just the vested economic, political, and military leaders of the world fighting for personal prestige and fortunes at the expense of their citizens. I believe that common people the world over share the same dreams of peace and security. I mixed quite thoroughly with German POW’s, and now the Japs. I’ve been to their homes for dinner and crowded into streetcars with them—and I find them as human as any people I’ve seen.
I don’t think I’ve been taken in too easily. I’m pretty skeptical by nature, but who am I supposed to hate? Can I hate the boy who ran along side my train window for 50 yards to pay me for a pack of cigarettes that I had sold him just before the train left the station? Can I hate the old man who took us to his home for dinner and made us accept his family heirlooms for souvenirs? Can I hate the kids that run up and throw their arms around me in the street? Or a Jap truck driver who went miles out of his way to drive me home one night? Or the little girl (about 4) who ran up to me and gave me her one and only doll for a present? My answer is that I can’t. This may all be a big show of phoney hospitality, but if it is the players are all expertly rehearsed. Personally I don’t believe they could fake the basic emotions with such perfection. I could be awfully wrong, but I have tremendous confidence in the common man of any country and the Jap is no exception.
It would have been easy for me to hate blindly. I hated their guts when they killed my brother a year ago, but hate leads only to more hate and it’s only if we can get together—work and live together—and develop confidence in each other that there is any hope of a better tomorrow. Sure, we’ve go to occupy their country—watch them—but at the same time we’ve got to help them and do everything possible to reconstruct them as a peace loving nation. It can and must be done through the common man, by elimination of imperialistic industrialists. They are the ones I hate, not the Jap who is farming or working for his family security—not even the ones who sank my brother’s submarine. They were just the pawns in the big game, it is the big men at the top in industry, trade, politics, and the military that we must hate and punish—and eliminate. Our building for a better world must begin at the bottom with you, me, and ordinary people all over the world. Capitalism is fine if the people have sufficient checks on the bosses—it can and does work well in our country, but we must work from here on to see that the interests of capital and humanity are the same, not merely manifestations of the financial lust of a greedy minority.
Whoa, babe, it’s taps time. Sorry this letter has been so long, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately and had to share my conclusions with someone.
Thanks for the picture.
Be good, and write some more,