A Final Word

The soldiers of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team won more medals and more honors than any other unit of its size and length of service in American military history. Those honors came at a terrible cost. Both the men of the 442nd and their brothers in the 100th Infantry Battalion suffered an extraordinarily high level of casualties throughout World War II. The 100th, in fact, became known early in the war as the “Purple Heart Battalion” because they were awarded so many Purple Heart medals for the injuries they had suffered.

Although they aren’t discussed in this book, it’s also important to note that in addition to those who served in the 442nd and the 100th, hundreds of Japanese Americans served in the US Army’s Military Intelligence Service, where they used their Japanese-language skills to listen in on enemy radio transmissions and interrogate Japanese prisoners of war. In many cases, these soldiers served in combat alongside other army units, and a number of them gave their lives performing this role.

Looking back on the enormous sacrifices made by Japanese Americans during World War II, I think we have to ask ourselves some questions. Were those sacrifices worthwhile for Japanese Americans? Did they finally put an end to the kind of racism that Fred, Rudy, Kats, Gordon, and thousands of other Japanese Americans experienced before the war?

The answer, sadly, is mixed. Certainly, many Japanese American families have forged successful and happy lives in America since World War II. For the most part, they have not experienced the same relentless barrages of open racism as the Nisei soldiers and their families did. Most Americans now recognize that hateful words like “Jap” have no place in our society. But, looking back on the stories told in this book, I think it’s important to end by underscoring that racism is still an everyday concern for millions of Asians living in America.

When Chinese immigrants first came to the United States in the 1840s, many of them were met with hatred and outright violence. Their homes were burned, they were beaten and robbed, and vicious name-calling followed them wherever they went. Prominent politicians and ordinary Americans called them “rats” and “snakes” and “locusts.” The same voices falsely accused the Chinese immigrants of bringing disease and plagues to the country. Newspapers and Hollywood movies spread these false ideas and promoted what they called the Yellow Peril—the false notion that Chinese and other Asian immigrants were threatening to destroy America. These racist ideas became so prevalent that in 1882 and 1924 Congress passed laws first limiting and then completely banning the immigration of Asians to the United States—a ban based entirely on race.

Then, in the years before, during, and immediately after World War II, the same false claims that had been directed at Chinese immigrants were directed at Japanese immigrants and at their American children. They, too, were compared to pests like rats, snakes, and locusts. They, too, were accused of bringing disease and plague to the United States. They were told there were neighborhoods where they could not live. They were banned from public places, like swimming pools and ice rinks. And, finally, when the war came, they were forced from their homes and incarcerated in the camps you have read about in this book, even as their sons were fighting for the United States.

In recent years, sadly, we have seen some of the same racist language and hateful ideas that were directed at Chinese and Japanese immigrants earlier in our history now being directed against newer Asian immigrants as well as Americans of Asian ancestry. Once again, we have seen politicians and media figures digging up the old lies, associating Asians with pests and bringers of disease. Once again, acts of violence have been leveled against Asians in America, simply because of their race.

So, as you think about the stories of Gordon, Kats, Rudy, and Fred, I hope you will remember that their stories aren’t just history. Their stories shine a light on our own time. They remind us that there is still much work to be done in the business of creating a society free of the kinds of racism they and their families faced. And their stories do something more. They remind us also what it means to be a good American. They show us how four good-hearted young Americans who believed deeply in their country rose to meet the desperate challenges of their time. They give faces and names to the kinds of courage, conscience, and principle that define us as Americans when we are at our best. In short, they inspire us to do as well as they did, to be as good as they were. That is their gift to us.