Naoki Hyakuta - The Eternal Zero

But spring came before I ever got the chance to put my arms through the sleeves of that coat. I was finally discharged from the hospital and sent back to my unit, but by that point, he was no longer there. Neither were any of my classmates. I thought they had all already died.

And I meant to follow after them.

My emotions at the time were very complicated. At first, I found myself unable to accept that I was to die. I thought the situation was incredibly unjust. But little by little, I started to lean towards acceptance. This was definitely not just a case of me getting swept up in the times, nor was it easy for me to resolve to die. It was a state of mind achieved only after enduring extreme pain and mental conflict. It’s impossible to explain such feelings in a few words. I think it would still be very difficult to properly convey them even if I took the time to. I thought about it for a long time after the war. I thought about it after I grew old. But I was never able to reproduce the thoughts I had back then.

Back then I felt like I’d arrived at my answer through some deep thinking, but I’m not even sure about that now. It was an age of insanity, so perhaps my thoughts were insane, too.

But I can say this. We did not accept our fate with wild enthusiasm. We did not go off as kamikazes to die with joy in our hearts. At no other time have I ever thought so seriously about nation and family. At no other time did I give more thought to how the futures of my loved ones might unfold after I was gone.

That July, I received my orders. I was to head to Omura Base in Kyushu.

Right after I arrived, I received a very sad letter from my mother. She informed me that my fiancée had passed away. She was my cousin, and we had been close since we were children. As we grew up, our families naturally assumed we would become betrothed, and we became engaged, though only formally. We certainly liked each other, but I don’t think it was romantic love. It was just an innocent sort of companionship. We didn’t even hold hands. But when I became a student pilot, I decided to break off the engagement because I couldn’t be sure whether I would survive the war.

She had received serious burns in the Great Tokyo Air Raid in May and died two weeks later according to my mother’s letter. I’d volunteered to conduct a special attack to protect my loved ones, but I’d lost the person I was meant to protect. When my eyes reached the part of the letter that said she’d called out my name right before she died, I couldn’t stop myself from weeping.

In August we heard that a new kind of bomb had been dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Omura was a stone’s throw from Nagasaki, so news of the disaster spread to us very quickly. A reserve officer in my class who had been a physics major at Kyoto University said, “The bomb that fell on Nagasaki might have been an atomic bomb.”

“What kind of a bomb is that?” someone asked.

The physics student explained that it made use of nuclear fission and that it was a terrible weapon with a destructive power so massive, traditional gunpowder-based ordnance paled in comparison.

“Was the bomb used on Nagasaki really this atomic bomb?”

“I don’t know. But if the rumors about the level of damage there are true, then it’s a possibility. The bomb used on Hiroshima might have been one, too.”

If that’s true, then Japan might perish, I thought. If, by dying as a kamikaze, I can defend my homeland, then let me like a brave man. I’ll be able to go to where my betrothed is…

Very soon after, I was ordered to sortie on a kamikaze mission. A classmate of mine, Teranishi, was also called up. We had resigned ourselves to our fates, so I think we were, for the most part, untroubled. We told each other, “Let’s go together.”

We were sent to Kanoya. I met up again with Miyabe-san there.

He had changed into a completely different person since the last time I had seen him. How can I explain it? His face was almost corpse-like. His eyes were bloodshot, and his whole body emanated a killer instinct. I’d never seen him that way before.

I found myself unable to call out to him. But he noticed me.

“Have your injuries healed?” he asked me, his face impassive.

“Yes, thank you very much, sir.”

“Glad to hear it.”

That was the extent of our conversation.

The day I arrived at Kanoya, I was ordered to sortie in two days’ time. My mind was calm. My only regret was that I wouldn’t be able to see my mother one last time to say farewell. That night, I wrote a will addressed to her.

The next day, I went for a walk outside the base. I left the settlement and headed towards the mountains.

It was hot out, but it felt good to sweat. After the following day, I wouldn’t be able to sweat.

Every sight seemed precious. Everything was beautiful. Even the grass on the side of the road was endlessly attractive. I crouched down to get a closer look and discovered tiny white flowers bursting from the weeds. The flowers were smaller than the tip of my little finger. So lovely, I thought in earnest. That was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on that flower, and I thought it was the most beautiful flower on the face of the earth.

There was a small brook. I took off my shoes and stuck my feet into the flowing stream. The cold water felt great.

I left my feet soaking in the water and sprawled out along the bank. When I closed my eyes I noticed the buzzing of cicadas. It was the first time I found their cries beautiful. And I thought that seven summers later, the cicadas’ offspring would sing in just the same way. When I wondered what Japan would be like then, I was filled with great sorrow.

The next day before dawn, we gathered before the command post and listened to the words of our commander.

I was stunned to see Miyabe-san among the group of kamikaze pilots. I’d assumed he’d be escorting us. I thought, So at last the Navy is killing off this man, too.

After the ritual cups of water, when everyone was to head to their aircraft, Teranishi and I went over to speak to Miyabe-san.

“I could not have asked for more than to die alongside you, Instructing Officer Miyabe,” Teranishi said.

Miyabe-san merely nodded silently and placed his hands on our shoulders. There was strength in those hands. The stubble that had previously covered his face had been cleanly shaven off.

“I never returned the overcoat you lent me, sir.” I still have no idea what prompted me to say that to him.

“I don’t need it in the summertime, anyway,” he replied with a chuckle.

I found myself laughing, too.

“Well then, let’s go,” he said and walked towards the runway. All the engines were running. Just as I was climbing into the cockpit, Miyabe-san came over and called out to me. “Ensign Oishi, I have a request.” “Yes, what is it, sir?” “Will you switch planes with me?”

He wanted to take the Model 21 that I was assigned instead of his Model 52. The Model 52 was far faster than the old 21. I turned him down, saying the better pilot should have the better aircraft.

Miyabe-san left once, but then quickly returned. He repeated his request to switch planes. After arguing back and forth for a while, I finally agreed.

I got down from the Model 21 and climbed into the Model 52.

The wheel chocks were removed. The fighters began to slowly roll forward, and then took off.

Miyabe-san’s Zero flew alongside mine. I could see him in the cockpit. Suddenly, I felt tears spring from my eyes. I didn’t care that I was going to die, but I wished from the bottom of my heart for him to survive.