General Ushijima radioed his last message to Imperial Headquarters on the evening of 21 June. The impetuous General Cho made a last appeal for all units to fight to the utmost. He also prepared several messages which he hoped his secretary could eventually deliver in Japan. "Our strategy, tactics, and technics," he explained, "all were used to the utmost and we fought valiantly, but it was as nothing before the material strength of the enemy."{548}Realizing that they could hold out no longer, Generals Ushijima and Cho made ready for death. Their cook prepared an especially large meal to be served shortly before midnight. When the meal was finished, the two generals and their staff drank numerous farewell toasts with the remaining bottles of Scotch whiskey which had been carried from Shuri. The rest of the story is told by a prisoner who learned the details of the death of Ushijima and Cho from other prisoners:
“Alas! The Stars of the Generals have fallen with the setting of the waning moon over Mabuni. . . .
“The pale moon shimmers bluish white over the waters of the southern sea, but on Hill 89 which juts abruptly from the reefs, the rocks and boulders are dyed crimson by the blood of the penetration unit which, with burning patriotism, rush the American positions for the last stand. The surrounding area displays a picture of concentrated fireworks; bursts of naval gun fire, flashes of mortar and artillery fire, to which is added the occasional chatter of machine guns. . . .
“Gathered around their section chiefs, members of each section bow in veneration toward the eastern sky and the cheer of "long live the Emperor" echoes among the boulders....The faces of all are flushed with deep emotion and tears fall upon ragged uniforms, soiled with the dirt and grime of battle. . . .
“Four o'clock, the final hour of Hara-kiri; the Commanding General, dressed in full field uniform, and the Chief of Staff in a white kimono appeared....The Chief of Staff says as he leaves the cave first, "Well, Commanding General Ushijima, as the way may be dark, I, Cho, will lead the way." The Commanding General replies, "Please do so, and I'll take along my fan since it is getting warm." Saying this he picked up his Okinawa-made Kuba fan and walked out quietly fanning himself. . . .
“The moon, which had been shining until now, sinks below the waves of the western sea. Dawn has not yet arrived and, at 0410, the generals appeared at the mouth of the cave. The American forces were only three meters away [sic.]. Four meters away from the mouth of the cave a sheet of white cloth is placed on a quilt; this is the ritual place for the two Generals to commit Hara-kiri. The Commanding General and the Chief of Staff sit down on the quilt, bow in reverence towards the eastern sky, and Adjutant J. respectfully presents the sword. Finally, the time for the honored rites of Hara-kiri arrives. At this time several grenades were hurled near this solemn scene by the enemy troops who observed movements taking place beneath them. A simultaneous shout and a flash of a sword, then another repeated shout and a flash, and both Generals had nobly accomplished their last duty to their Emperor. . . .
“All is quiet after the cessation of gunfire and smoke; and the full moon is once again gleaming over the waves of the southern sea. Hill 89 of Mabuni will live in memory forever.”{549}
The death of General Ushijima and his Chief of Staff, General Cho, marked the end of the Okinawa campaign and the 32d Army. Organized fighting on Okinawa had lasted eighty-three days, for it was not until 22 June that Hill 85 between Medeera and Makabe fell to the 305th Infantry. That the Japanese defense had been longer and stronger than could reasonably have been expected was not, it appeared, sufficient for the Japanese commander. Following the ancient code and ritual of the Samurai, he made the only acceptable atonement to his emperor for his failure to defend Okinawa successfully.
At Tenth Army headquarters on the same morning, 22 June, representatives of the Tenth Army, the two corps, and the divisions stood in formation, the band played "The Star Spangled Banner," and the color guard raised the American flag over Okinawa. Near the top of the pole a sudden breeze swept the flag out full against a blue and quiet sky.{550}
On 23 June 1945 Tenth Army began a thorough and coordinated mop-up campaign to eliminate the disorganized remnants of the 32d Army in southern Okinawa. The plan assigned XXIV Corps and III Amphibious Corps their respective zones of action and fixed three phase lines for the completion of the task, which was to take ten days. After reaching the first phase line at the southern end of the island, the two corps were to turn and advance northward through two successive phase lines until they reached the Naha-Yonabaru valley. A blocking line was established along the Naha-Yonabaru cross-island road to prevent any Japanese soldiers from infiltrating to the northern part of the island.{551}
RAISING THE AMERICAN FLAG on 22 June denoted the end of organized resistance.
The mop-up was successfully completed on 30 June, in less than the allotted time. The troops first cleaned out some strong pockets of unorganized resistance in the sweep to the first phase line in the south. Cave positions were systematically sealed up by flame throwers and demolitions, with hundreds of Japanese entombed within. Several bloody skirmishes ensued when well-armed groups of the enemy attempted to infiltrate the American lines and make their way to the north. Extensive patrolling ferreted out individual Japanese soldiers hiding in cane fields and rice paddies. Once the American troops turned northward, fewer and fewer of the enemy were found, and the third and final phase line was reached with comparative ease. By the end of the month the mop-up had yielded an estimated total of 8,975 Japanese soldiers killed, 2,902 military prisoners taken, and 906 labor troops rounded up. Large quantities of enemy supplies and equipment were captured.{552}American battle casualties between 23 and 30 June came to 783, most of which were incurred in the first three days of the mop-up. On 2 July the Ryukyus campaign was declared ended.
The price paid for Okinawa was dear. The final toll of American casualties was the highest experienced in any campaign against the Japanese. Total American battle casualties were 49,151, of which 12,520 were killed or missing and 36,631 wounded. Army losses were 4,582 killed, 93 missing, and 18,099 wounded; Marine losses, including those of the Tactical Air Force, were 2,938 killed and missing and 13,708 wounded; Navy casualties totaled 4,907 killed and missing and 4,824 wounded. Non-battle casualties during the campaign amounted to 15,613 for the Army and 10,598 for the Marines. The losses in ships were 36 sunk and 368 damaged, most of them as a result of air action. Losses in the air were 763 planes from 1 April to 1 July.
The high cost of the victory was due to the fact that the battle had been fought against a capably led Japanese army of greater strength than anticipated, over difficult terrain heavily and expertly fortified, and thousands of miles from home. The campaign had lasted considerably longer than was expected. But Americans had demonstrated again on Okinawa that they could, ultimately, wrest from the Japanese whatever ground they wanted.
The cost of the battle to the Japanese was even higher than to the Americans. Approximately 110,000 of the enemy lost their lives in the attempt to hold Okinawa, and 7,400 more were taken prisoners. The enemy lost 7,800 airplanes, 16 ships sunk, and 4 ships damaged. More important, the Japanese lost 640 square miles of territory within 350 miles of Kyushu.
The military value of Okinawa exceeded all hope. It was sufficiently large to mount great numbers of troops; it provided numerous airfield sites close to the enemy's homeland; and it furnished fleet anchorage helping the Navy to keep in action at Japan's doors. As soon as the fighting ended, American forces on Okinawa set themselves to preparing for the battles on the main islands of Japan, their thoughts sober as they remembered the bitter bloodshed behind and also envisioned an even more desperate struggle to come.
The sequel to Okinawa, however, was contrary to all expectation. In the midst of feverish preparations on the island in August 1945, with the day for the assault on Kyushu drawing near, there came the almost unbelievable and joyous news that the war was over. The battle of Okinawa was the last of World War II.