Shosango Program for Victory
Seishin Kyoiku
Initiated during the Taisho era (1912–26)
Akamatsu Hideki may have had some doubts about his decision to join the military when he participated in the “pre-military camp”. The army watched over the Shosango Program for Victory, which taught (as stated) students to defend the home islands to the last man. Both boys and girls joined initially in the physical education exercises held at a local high school.
Hideki was older than the others, so he could easily match and outdo their enthusiasm, stamina, and physical skills. Everyone knew of his determination, and he glowed seeing their eyes on him. He stood at attention in his army-issued uniform with his eyes glistening as brightly as his tunic’s brass buttons in the sunlight.
The daily exercises consisted of marches, spearing maneuvers with wooden poles, and general stretching exercises. Sergeant Hayashi of the Imperial Army presided with a keen eye and a short wooden baton. Any lag in spirit was met with a stern rebuke; any weakness was commented on loudly; any incompetence was punished, severely in some cases—most times with corporal punishment.
Hideki was clumsy at first, despite his baseball prowess. He found the dexterity exercises particularly frustrating. One was the horizontal ladder climb. The sergeant placed a ladder on the ground before the students. Each then had to stand at one end and run forward, while twisting the upper body left and right alternatively and touching every space with the feet. The faster the better. Each effort was timed.
Hideki was not the most agile and so often tripped and fell to the ground. Sgt. Hayashi scolded him to no end, calling him mushi loudly to his face. Bug! It got worse when heavy backpacks and wooden rifles were required. Try as he might, Hideki just couldn’t negotiate the course.
Hayashi showed no mercy and started to beat Hideki with his baton about the head and shoulders. Eventually, the young would-be recruit fell to his knees begging forgiveness in tears before the sergeant. Hayashi just snarled and nicknamed him Nakimushi (Crying Insect).
“Stand up!” the sergeant growled in the next moment. “Stand up straight!”
Hideki slouched out of habit.
“So you think you’re so smart being tall, do you?” the sergeant shouted, and then struck Hideki’s back so hard the young recruit fell to his knees again.
“Get up, you mushi!”
And so it went on.
***
Induction Day in early January. The skies were grey and the temperatures cool, but the military building was buzzing with activity. Recruits stood in single file in front of a wooden desk where a sombre corporal wrote down each name before sending them on to the next station. The lineup was nearly out the door.
Hideki and his father came early that morning. No women allowed. The young man was eager to get on to the next phase of his life. He attended in a freshly cleaned and pressed uniform, polished boots, and smart cap.
He loved the snapping flags outside. The Hinomaru, the Japanese flag, a glorious symbol of the Emperor, made him proud the way it fluttered in the rising wind. Coloured streamers also decorated the building in celebration of the glorious youth about to commit themselves to the Emperor.
His father couldn’t accompany him beyond the foyer, but he did have a final moment with him.
“Hideki-gun, last chance. You don’t have to do this.”
“Otousan,” Hideki chided. “This is my time.”
Gunhei smiled at him and appeared on the verge of tears, but none came. “I will be honest with you. I’m afraid for you, but I know you will make us proud, son. I know. Do your duty. Come back to us.” He bowed as did his son.
Hideki snapped his heels, turned, and approached the wooden desk.
***
The grandest day of Hideki’s life was the formal celebration of Induction Day in late January 1939. The ceremony was at army headquarters in Hiroshima. Chiemi and parents attended, wearing their finest kimono, Otousan in his comical fedora and black kimono. With flags waving, banners flying and a full brass band, the Emperor’s representative, Furusho Mikio, Member of the Supreme War Council, addressed the gathering.
“You will bring honour to Japan with your spirit and dedication…” he grandly pronounced, his full mustache slightly fluttering in the wind.
With a grin, Gunhei said that the impressive commander grew the preposterous long mustache to compensate for his bald head. Of course, the Emperor’s representative had said nothing, keeping his reason for his affectation locked away forever.
***
After that day, Hideki relished a long and rigorous training period. He was housed in the military centre with dormitories including showers, laundry, and lunchroom just outside Hiroshima, well-hidden from view, fenced-in with guards patrolling the surrounding area to ensure privacy and security.
The young recruit was surprised and perhaps a little shaken to see that Sgt. Hayashi, the same trainer at the high school, oversaw the new recruits. Hayashi was a hard man with a chiselled look to his face and a muscular body. His torso was particularly well-shaped, thick with developed muscles. He was loud with an order and quick with the baton if someone disobeyed. When he saw Hideki, he sneered at him.
“Still arrogant about your height!” he said and threatened a whipping.
Hideki cowered, causing Hayashi to bellow with laughter.
To say the young recruit was afraid of the man was an understatement, but he understood and accepted everything. The Japanese soldier was known for being fearless, ruthless, and merciless. Hideki had only three months to meet these expectations.
Indoctrination began right away. Every morning the troops stood in formation and recited the Gunjin Chokuyu or the Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors, a set of ethical rules written during the Meiji era to inspire the military. A ten-minute meditation on the message followed.
Each was expected to memorize it. Mistakes would not be tolerated, Sgt. Hayashi made sure of that. Hideki was struck several times for flubbing a word or two, especially when a solo recitation was ordered before supper.
For Hideki’s part, he was not used to speaking under pressure, no matter how many were doing the same thing. By the end of the first week, he was so discouraged and sore, he wanted to quit, but knew he couldn’t or wouldn’t. An untenable situation. He was sure his family would be mocked if he left in disgrace and that could not happen.
Though Sgt. Hayashi started calling him Nakimushi again, Hideki got the point. Live frugally and devote yourself to the Emperor. And don’t cry, don’t whine, don’t complain.
“Nakimushi!” the sergeant bellowed. “Where did you go to school?”
The question was odd, but he began to answer. The sergeant promptly cut him off. “Never mind, the past is nothing. You are nothing. There is only the Emperor. Remember that.”
Turning to the assembled he continued, “You are all Ant Soldiers. Nothing but ants.”
Hideki in his surprise unadvisedly spoke up, “But Sergeant, I thought the Chinese were the Ant Soldiers.”
His perceived insolence was met with a vicious baton strike to the side of the head. Hideki fell to the ground.
“Ant Soldier!” growled Hayashi. “You are nothing but an insect, a little crying insect. Your life means as much as an ant’s. Only the Emperor matters. You understand?”
Hideki nodded as he wept.
***
Hideki’s only solace was Takeuchi Shigeru, an old school-chum who had enlisted the same day he had. He called him Take-san for short. No matter how downtrodden either felt, for Shigeru was punished as much as Hideki, one would tell the other: “Faith equals strength”.
Hideki often made note of his friend’s baby-soft features; tears rimming his eyes; rosy, plump cheeks; and flawless skin. Though he was picked on by the sergeant precisely for his “girlish body”, Shigeru experienced a gradual hardening of his body and spirit. His unshaven face, an uneven shadow forming under his chin. He looked considerably older. Hideki wondered if the same were happening to him.
Soon after the first week, Sgt. Hayashi stood before the troops and announced, “From today, you will be given rifles. Uppermost in your mind, you must remember that it is the personal property of the Emperor and any neglect of it will not be tolerated. The most precious part of the weapon is the bayonet. Once you affix the blade to the rifle, you are putting iron into your very souls. It is your samurai sword.”
“Samurai?” asked some short, stocky, and naïve recruit.
The sergeant rushed to confront the idiot. “Tanaka, you think this is funny? There is no greater honour than to be a samurai, you understand. I doubt that you’ll ever be one.”
Tanaka Yusuke was a prep-school recruit wanting to prove his manhood to his father, so the story went. But his weight and awkward, rotund body worked against it. He was constantly victimized by just about everyone.
“No…no…I mean, yes…” he answered trailing off, half-expecting, Hideki thought, to be punished. And he was, the sergeant beat him, leaning into the blow with his shoulder and arm muscles. Shigeru fell to the ground shuddering and covering himself in a useless effort to protect himself.
Hideki then thought of his older high-school compatriot who recently died in battle, according to the newspapers.
Honjo Tadanobu charged the machinegun nest with a frightening determination. He raised his sword and shouted his kiai, his battle cry; he was ready to strike and draw blood. A glorious death as his body was torn to pieces. The glory of Bushido. The samurai spirit. For the Emperor!
Both Hideki and Shigeru took to heart that any neglect or misuse of the weapon was a corruption of the soul. Once at evening inspection, the idea was clearly demonstrated. All the recruits were lined up in front of their bunks as the sergeant walked down the line. Hideki was particularly nervous since he never knew if his weapon, uniform, or bunk would pass muster. He need not have worried…this time.
Shigeru was not so lucky. The private stood by his bunk next to Hideki’s as the sergeant grabbed the rifle and inspected it closely.
“Takeuchi,” Hayashi growled.
“Hai!”
“Your rifle is dirty! The oil is fouled with dirt.”
“No, it isn’t,” he said disingenuously.
The sergeant suddenly and swiftly struck the hapless soldier across the face.
Shigeru fell heavily to the floor.
“Such insolence! When I say it’s dirty, it’s dirty.”
Shigeru looked up in fear and cowered causing Hayashi to kick him viciously in the ribcage. Shigeru screamed in pain.
“You have fouled your soul! Do you understand? Do you?”
“Yes…Sergeant,” he said with difficulty.
“Clean it and bring it to me for further inspection.”
Sgt. Hayashi snapped to, turned, and walked away. Hideki thought he saw a smile on his face.
***
The training continued with bayonet fighting. The ideal was a one-on-one battle. The superior Japanese soldier could never be defeated in a close fight. Hideki thought it strange that no target shooting was ever done.
Long marches were the second phase of the training. Without full packs at first but marching loaded down with equipment soon became a reality. They often started at the camp and ended some 50+ km away at the Gokoku Shrine, emblematic of Meiji architecture on expansive grounds. It was built for the dead of the 19th-Century Boshin War. The recruits soon talked among themselves and held the hope that their names would be added to the lists of dead samurai and soldiers in Tokyo’s Yasukuni Shrine with its magnificent architecture of tall, peaked roof with criss-crossed masts towering above the building.
They came back to the camp after a few days exhausted, sweaty, and dirty.
***
The final phase started when each recruit received dark glasses. During early evening, twice a week, when the sun was just above the horizon, Hideki and Shigeru, like everyone else, crawled outside and beyond the barracks area, their glasses rigidly attached. They soon discarded them as they performed maneuvers during the darkest nights, with or without the moon to light their way, in the roughest terrain. A few injured themselves while practicing stealth movements and had to be taken to the hospital with a broken bone or two. The obese Tanaka was one.
“That baka, too fat to crawl in the dark. There’s not enough shadow to contain him!” the men joked.
When the hapless Tanaka returned, no one talked to him. Perhaps he heard the stifled laughter behind his back.
Hideki observed from afar and began to question himself.