The American Occupation of Japan 1945-1952: A Look Back

By David Arturi

Against the background of the Occupation, a tragic love story unfolds that centers on an adventurous American merchant marine radio officer and the surviving daughter of a Japanese military family whose father and sons, killed in sea battles during World War II, studies under her Zen master in an attempt to gain peace of mind. Lily Blossom, as she's called, is imprisoned emotionally by a gloried past and tradition, and Ken Mason, the young man who suddenly appears in the Buddhist temple high on a hill in Dragon City where she lives, fall in love almost immediately. She grapples with the question of defying her mother's unyielding desire for her to marry a chosen groom within the month. Ken, meanwhile, clashes with his own awesome choice, which is, should he pursue her as if his life depended upon it (and, in the end, it does) or walk honorably away from his karma to allow hers to come to fruition, as her national customs, her parents' wishes, and her Zen Master have all arranged for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Arturi
• Release date: May 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476447131

David Arturi

As a World War II U.S. Navy radioman and veteran, the author studied maritime radio theory and operation further under the G.I. Bill. Thereafter, as Merchant Marine radio officer he shipped out for 43 years and sailed to more than 100 countries and places on these voyages, every one of which was more adventurous than the previous one.

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Cover: Hachiman Gu Shinto Shrine, Kamakura, Japan

Author with Chief Abbot of Kencho Ji

Dai Butsu of Kamakura

Celestial Princesses Dancing

Bodhi-Dharma

U.S. Battleships

Japanese Battleship Yamashiro

Kane Family Cognomen

Kuan Yin Pouring Healing Water

Author at Hase Temple

Pictures of Post-War Japan

Chief Abbot Gyoshu Oi

Clear Window Sumiye

THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS

And I tarried sometime in this solace and satisfaction, till my soul began to once more to long to sail the seas and see foreign countries and company with merchants and hear new things.

—Sindbad the Seaman,

The Thousand and One Nights

Sir Richard Burton translation

MADAME CHRYSANTHEME

Beneath me Nagasaki lay asleep, wrapt in a soft light slumber, hushed by the murmuring sound of a thousand insects in the moonlight, and fairylike with its roseate hues. Then, turning my head, I saw behind me the gilded idol with our lamps burning in front of it; the idol smiling its impassive Buddha smile, and its presence seemed to cast around it something, I know not what, strange and incomprehensible. Never until now had I slept under the eyes of such a god.

—Pierre Loti, Madame Chrysantheme

SEASICKNESS

What fools are these who follow this,

The call of gold, of love, of bliss?

Dumb wand'ring souls 'bove ocean's floor,

Bethink themselves 'side Heaven's door,

When, heeding Sirens' call of doom,

Like a light near shore, Paradise should loom

One point on the starboard bow.

Not so! Not so e'en should the gods avow!

Only fools and sailors roam the seas,

In search of that, which some say ease

The soul, the mind, the flesh, and heart

From bosom of maid whose estranged heart

Cannot give gold, or love, or even bliss.

But aches supreme from parched lips kiss'd!

So seek ye, Sailor, rest on shore,

Else hereaft' complain no more.

—The Author

A DEFINITION OF ZEN

Zen Buddhism emphasizes on achieving enlightenment through meditation as Siddhartha Gautama did long ago. It believes that all human beings have Buddha-hood within them and the potential to attain nirvana. However, the Buddha-hood has been blinded by ignorance. Aiming at alleviating this ignorance, Zen advocates that meditation is a better way to gain a breakthrough of insight and awareness of ultimate reality than the study of religious temples, devotional practices and prayer, scriptures of monasteries and good works about Buddhism. In order to be trained as a Zen Buddhist, a disciple should practice under the guidance of a master.

—From the web site of YgoY Inc.

Fremont, CA

Chapter 1

The 1940s: Ojiisan

The Zen Master's temple on one of the town's highest hills sweltered under a burning sun and bright sky as the beneficial rays of Amaterasu reached deep into the marrow of his bones. Buddha, the One Most Excelled in the Knowledge of the World, appeared to him and spoke to him in a vibrant tone that resonated in the old priest's chest cavity.

"Tell your students to be guided by these Twin Verses of mine, Master Niwa-san:

'All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage. All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts; it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.'

"Tell them to abide with that thought in Mind. It is Karma, our Creed. Tell them Cause and Effect is the Supreme Law of the Universe; no other commandment of man or Nature can surpass or invalidate it."

Ojiisan sat alone on the front steps with a smile on his weathered face as he looked back on his nine and a half decades of life, reflecting on the girl who'd just left him. She'd lived for less than two decades of it. An expelled breath of air, representing a comment, passed through his nostrils, not through his mouth, as one would expect, at the awakening of the opposites.

He also reflected on the instructions he received a moment ago. Where did it come from? More to the point, to whom was Buddha referring? Now his peaceful spirit was ruffled somewhat, requiring him to exert the same amount of willpower to maintain his meditative equilibrium.

He did so, and returned to his tranquil inner self.

As he'd aged, he became more thankful that he'd obeyed his late Master's demand and traveled to this place, giving up the prestige of his abbotship and the well-structured rituals of the historic and illustrious temple farther north, and east, in the country. He was thankful because it was warmer here, and old people needed warmth. Warmth not only derived from the sun, but also from the loving person that in this instance radiated from the girl named Lily Blossom Kane. She was Amaterasu's very own daughter, he said to himself, referring to the mythical Shinto deity, and which was the thought that had put the smile on his face. That he would delve into fancy at this age, although it was more than a fancy, pleased him, because her entrance into his lonely life warmed him thoroughly, renewed his spirit, and fortified his resolve to teach again.

And a little child shall lead them.

Now Ojiisan laughed aloud at himself. The quotation from a sacred text of a different philosophy in a different land that entered his thoughts made his joyous laughter rise to the heavens. There, the Sun Goddess received it, acknowledged it, and embraced it with mixed emotions, since the terrestrial human sender held marked and dissimilar views of the universe than she did.

***

The sloped roof of his present abode looked like the dust of the bombardment not much more than a year ago had freshly settled on it. On the main altar, delicate cobwebs connected the statues surrounding the main statue, Shakyamuni Buddha. A fine layer of whitish dust covered it also.

Not only the explosion that had ripped the roof off and ground the earth into atom-sized particles, but the destruction of time itself had also been hurled into the sky and gradually allowed to settle to earth. It was like white rain that painted the pine trees, the wreckage, the brown weeds and grass, the rock garden, the small cemetery that was the hallmark of a Buddhist temple, the tombstones of Kumo-san, the priest's thin frail shoulders, and his black robe now dusted with the same white film.

The few young men who'd studied at the otera or honorable temple with his disciple hadn't yet returned from the war, or returned home, the Roshi didn't know which. No one in all of Ryumachi presently stood as tall spiritually as the invisible presence of Kumo-san.

For a brief period, he'd thought Lily Blossom could rise to that same height but the tragedy of her family had set her spiritual growth back to the level it'd been when she first came to see him. She'd asked him to help her overcome her fear of the dark brought on by those childhood memories of rape, violence, and death in the night that she'd divulged to him earlier.

Lily Blossom would make a good Buddhist, like Lady Matsu, the Roshi thought. As for becoming a nun...well, that would require all of her time. She didn't have much of that because now her hands were full, abundantly full, caring for her mother who'd gone quietly mad.

***

Instead of clearing debris by the damaged zendo, this time the stranger puzzled over how to reassemble the exploded wooden statue of Buddha Manjsuri, the patron Bodhisattva of the meditation hall, that he held in his hands and that had also lain untouched since the end of the war.

Ojiisan, as his sole student, eighteen-year-old Lily Blossom, the daughter of the town's aristocratic military family, respectfully referred to him, went up to the Westerner. He was happy for the company of another human being, even if he were from across the sea and a foreigner from the country that had just recently waged war against theirs. The shirtless visitor turned around, saw the Roshi, and discarded the broken pieces of the black wooden statue.

I'm a radioman, not a carpenter, he said. I haven't the faintest idea how to fix it.

Ojiisan said, Neither do I, my son.

***

Lily Blossom and Lady Matsu had decided to take turns caring for Ojiisan after he'd recuperated from his heart attack. The priest promised he wouldn't climb up and down those hundred stone steps wedged into the side of the hill that served also to lead the townspeople up to their famous Shinto shrine. Therefore, isolated, his benefactors themselves would keep him supplied with food and drink and other requirements. On the days that neither of them could make it up to the temple, Hiroki, the Kane's driver and groundskeeper, following Lady Matsu's directions, bought the goods and delivered them to the temple. As much as a week would go by before someone would come to see him. Lily Blossom, seeing how busy her aunt was with running the hotel that during the Occupation was brimming with American military transients on per diem expense accounts, took it upon herself to lately visit the temple at least every other day, and more recently, every day. She was terrified that Ojiisan, her beloved teacher, would pass away in solitude—neglected and unloved. Thinking of her mother's needs as well, she sent Sumiko, her mother's forever confidant and the head mistress of the Kane's domicile, to look after Lady Kane during these absences.

Months ago, convinced that she was safe from rape by the barbarians (as the newspapers had warned the populace, though the ideographs for barbarians, in this instance, meaning only foreigners), Lily Blossom had abandoned the guise of a street urchin and had dressed in bright kimono. The 'rikisha ride along Festival Drive, indulged in purely for relaxation and enjoyment, after leaving the chauffeured Ford at City Hall, was a visual delight. She wore a fresh yellow yukata—a light, airy summer kimono—and waved happily to her many school friends who recognized her. Boisterous enemy soldiers from the occupying Army, whom she hardly noticed, drove their mammoth olive-green military trucks along the earthen streets, sending up clouds of dust, and though they noticed her and whistled short, strange tunes, no one approached her.

She climbed the stone steps and turned into the dirt path that led farther up to Tombo Ji. At the tea table, she placed the Mumonkan, a Zen textbook she'd been carrying, on top of a cloth-bound sutra—The Lankavatara, she saw.

I've studied this for what seems an eternity, Honorable Grandfather, but I still can't penetrate its core. I'm afraid you'll cut off my finer, punch me in the mouth, or hit me over the head with that stick. I give up. Here, please take it back. The book recounted she said. Lily Blossom didn't intend to become another victim.

The Roshi nodded and let the zenroku lay where it was.

Lily Blossom added, I'm sure I'll understand Buddhism some day, but I'm just as sure it'll be a lifetime before I begin to understand Zen. Or your honorable self. Forgive me, Ojiisan.

He nodded again. I'm thirsty. Would you make some tea, Yurime-chan?

She rose quickly. How thoughtless of me! Immediately, Master.

When she returned and he sipped from his cup, he couldn't control a happy grin from spreading across his features.

Ah, he said, "so. I see that you do understand Zen."

A slight—very slight—glimmer of understanding came to her, and a sudden laugh erupted from her shiny pink mouth.

Blessed Ojiisan, I should have known you were up to your old tricks again!

They drank green tea and talked for a while. Ojiisan said he'd take his afternoon nap down in the cool bamboo grove where stood the symbolic tombstones for Kumo-san. She helped him down the short path to the grove where the Master curled up on a bed of pine needles that she piled together for him. He dozed off soon afterward, comforted by the thought that a kind and loving human being such as she (and possibly a second person) had come back into his life.

***

Lily Blossom retraced her steps up the path hurriedly. She felt a quickening heartbeat when she walked into the bright sunshine and confronted the unreality of the foreigner in the yard. Who was he? How could he have materialized up here without her seeing him? Where'd he come from—her dreams? Was he the young man she'd seen in an American Western movie as a child and had quickly been dazzled by his form and features?

She shook her head as if in a daze, convinced that she'd seen him in a fantasy at one time.

Hello, she said when she reached him, fortified with the knowledge that she was right. My name is Lily Blossom Kane. She controlled her breathing. Welcome to Japan.

The stranger extended his right hand after brushing it off on his khaki trousers. Hi, he said. Mine's Ken Mason. Thanks.

What are you doing up here? she demanded to know.

He cocked his head. Up here where? Up here—

Up here on Heaven's Floor, as the Master calls it.

Calls what?

The soil you're standing on. This plateau that is open to the heavens. How did you get up here?

***

Ken put on his shirt, a short-sleeved safari-styled garment. He waved at the destruction around him and asked how it had happened. Lily Blossom briefly related the story of Ryumachi's single one-sided naval battle. His next question was why the temple lay in ruins (almost) since the war had ended a year ago—long enough time for repairs to have been completed, or at least started, he said.

She shrugged helplessly.

Many of us who have the means to do so are ready whenever the Master will permit it. He would rather the townspeople come up here and repair it themselves like they did to the Shinto shrine over there. It's something to do with their duty to the Spirit, he says, the Way and the Path.

These words zoomed right by Ken Mason's ken. What shrine?

The Shinto shrine behind those trees.

The temple, at the edge of the plateau, looked out over the intricate grids of rice fields in the valley to the west. A train off to their right crawled out of the countryside spotted with thatched farmhouses and entered a northern coastal plain that led to Dragon City. To the east, Ken's gaze swept over the ocean from whence he'd come.

Departing Galveston after loading cargo, his Liberty ship set sail for Cristobal, Panama—a distance of 1,536 nautical miles. Leaving Balboa astern after transiting the Canal, the ship steered a course for Honolulu where they'd taken on bunkers, logging an additional 4,685 nautical miles. The final leg, from Waikiki Beach to a port called Ryumachi or Dragon City, required sailing a final 4,189 nautical miles. It was located on Van Diemen Strait near Kagoshima on the southeastern tip of Kyushu.

Is the public allowed up here? Ken asked.

Certainly. Many soldiers and civilians have come, even two women soldiers with short yellow hair.

Ever go out with any?

She shook her head. Not even with the women soldiers.

Ken fell silent, and when he tried to speak, found he was tongue-tied.

A few seconds later, his heart pumped harder when their eyes met and she sneaked a peek at him.

Would you like to go swimming? he asked, wondering why she did that. I mean...I saw some nice beaches around here. We could...

How long are you staying?

The agent told us three to four weeks. It'll take that long to unload our cargo. The more it rains, the longer we stay. Frankly, I hope it takes forever. Well, half-forever. Does it rain much around here?

We get our share.

Anyway, I'm supposed to start college in New York in September. That's why it'd better only take half-forever.

Who told you to start college in New York in September?

My father.

Ummm.

He's a big-shot lawyer and wants me to become one too, to work in his firm.

The obedient son.

Lily Blossom's smile was daring, and Ken detected a glint in her sparkling silver eyes.

Most of the time.

It should be all the time, my friend.

Ken kept his thoughts to himself.

Sounds like you work on ships—'unload our cargo and all that.

Ken put his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun and scanned the bay, looking for his ship at dockside in the harbor. I do. I'm a radio officer in the Merchant Marine. He spotted the blue-and-white smokestack of his Liberty. There's my ship.

Where? She shielded her eyes too.

Down there, between those two sheds. You can only see half of her.

Yes, I see something now. That is a coincidence, really it is. My father and brothers were also in the navy. Do you like it?

I wasn't in— He checked himself. Like what?

The sea.

Love it.

Why?

"Don't know, really.

My father loved it too. He was an admiral. So did Taira—that is my brother's name, the younger brother, a lieutenant, an awesome boy, he has a devilish smile, I mean he did, that smile and twinkle in his eye, the girls fell all over themselves for him, I love him so much. Dear Buddha! Hata was older, a navy pilot. I wonder—in the name of the gods I truly wonder—what is the attraction that men have with the profession? Why do they go to sea, do you suppose?

Ken paused for a moment, hoping he wouldn't offend her brief flash of mourning. Gold, he said.

Lily Blossom laughed. Gold?

We were pirates once, plundering other ships all over the world.

What else is out there for you pirates?

Oh, I don't know. Love, maybe. Happiness. Adventure, of course. Something else, too. I'm inclined to believe it's really a sickness though, and I only hope I'm strong enough to fight it off because I want to keep the promise I made to my father.

Lily Blossom studied his features. She saw that he was pensive, doubting. Are you questioning your resolve? Did that long voyage sap your will? By the way, how long was it?

Ken shut his eyes as he tried adding up all the figures George had quoted to him during the trip.

I'm sure the second mate said it was over ten thousand miles. I remember now. Ten thousand, four hundred ten miles to be precise. It took us thirty-nine and a half days. Lily Blossom gave a short laugh. My goodness! What can a person possibly do during all that time in the middle of the ocean?

Work, Ken Mason replied. That takes up our time. We go to work every day and on the fortieth day we find ourselves wandering around in Dragon City and me personally talking to Miss Lily Blossom Kane.

That is a clever response, Ken. I'm impressed. To get back to the pact with your father. What was it about, if you won't mind telling me, and what is his name, by the way?

I promised him that this would be my last trip to sea if he did two things for me, which he did. His name? Francis Clyde Mason. His colleagues call him F. Clyde.

You mentioned a pact. Please tell me about it.

Ken pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped his forehead and neck. The sun was beating down on them both. He walked into the shade under a tall pine tree and turned to her as she joined him.

One concerns my mother. I told him I'd quit going to sea and go to college if he explained why and how she died in a car wreck. He did, finally. The second thing concerned his chauffeur, a man named Christian Morley.

Lily Blossom waited.

Please go on.

Ken said, During the war he stole gas ration stamps and gambled with them and sold them at enormous profit. He was eventually caught, of course, and thrown into Federal prison. My father wouldn't lift the proverbial finger to defend him or help him.

Did your father not pay him enough to support himself, or his family, if he had any, and that's why he became a thief?

Christian received a good salary. I guess he just likes to do things like that once in awhile. Or maybe he has a death wish. He was gassed in World War I, you know. No, sorry, you don't know. My father was very angry. He felt betrayed by Christian because he thought of him as a friend. Anyway, to make a long story short, I promised my father that if he'd pay Christian's ten-thousand-dollar fine and if he could manage a parole for him I'd quit going to sea immediately. Immediately meaning at the end of this trip. So about two months ago, having paid the fine, the parole came through. Christian'd been sentenced to five years in the pokey—prison. He could've received the full sentence ten of ten years. Luckily, he only spent three. Now he's home with his family and works for us again.

Lily Blossom absorbed the significance of the story. Let me get this straight. You love the sea so much you don't know how to describe that love. You wish to continue going to sea. Yet you gave it all up—you are giving it all up—because your father succeeded in gaining the freedom of an employee in prison?

You make it sound more than it is. Noble, sort of.

It is.

It's what anyone would do for someone else.

I don't think so, Ken Mason. The daughter of a heroic and high-society admiral shook her head and marched up to him. I do not think so. Seems to me there is nothing more for you to sail the seas for because we are witnessing the final chapter in your life. It is an inspiring tale, Ken, but it's all over. You've done your part in making this a better world, so just relax now and observe us mere mortals toiling tirelessly.

It's not that inspiring.

Don't be so modest, Mr. Mason!

I just like going to sea, is all. I didn't give up that much.

Oh. Now you only 'like' going to sea. You don't love it anymore?

I guess you're right. I still love it.

Very much?

You have no idea, Miss Kane. You really have no idea. Nobody does, only we seafarers.

And pirates?

Yes. Ken felt stupid having uttered the term, but grinned anyway.

Is that why you want to go swimming? Like a fish that must return to its mother's womb? You cannot possibly live without drinking from the ocean every once in a while?

Something like that, I guess, but I don't know. Although every time I go swimming, I do scoop up a handful of ocean and drink it down like clam juice. It seems to keep me alive—or at least keeps mein touch with my Original Being.

Lily Blossom's eyes lit up and her mouth parted in surprise for the second, third, fourth, or fifth time.

You sound like a Buddhist! Only Buddhists say things like that—'Original Being.' Are you—?

No, I'm not. I've only read a few books on the religion.

Lily Blossom said, I was born and grew up a Shintoist. Only now, though, under Ojiisan's instructions, am I beginning to learn whether Buddhism is a religion. Many people say it is not. I don't know enough about the subject to form an opinion yet. Now let me ask why you feel you must study Buddhism.

Well, aside from the fact that I believe everyone should drink from the ocean when they get the chance, to remind them where they came from, I wouldn't mind studying Buddhism sometime because I'd like to know why what happened to my mother happened, and why certain things have happened already to people on Earth here. Two atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the Nazis killing six million Jews. Little things like that add up to murder, you know.

Lily Blossom gasped and buried her face in her hands. She spun and ran away.

Chapter 2

Lily Blossom Kane

She returned after half an hour, during which time he'd sat against a tree in the shade, his mind and emotions tumbling.

Please forgive me, she said as he rose. I was rude in leaving you.

Ken wanted to respond, to say he was sorry for having dredged up memories of the war, which certainly had a telling effect upon her, but Lily Blossom held up a hand.

It wasn't your fault, Ken. Let's act as if nothing was said, please.

Sure. He blew out a relieved breath.

She said, Thank you. Yes, we do have nice beaches here. I've been told I personally own some of them. The Kane—my clan—own all this land. The sweep of her arms took in almost all of eastern Kyushu Island, Ken thought. But, she added, I don't think that is possible—you taking me swimming.

Ken reacted immediately to her statement. His evident disappointment troubled her, so she tried to soften it with an explanation that only drove him further into shock.

You see, I'm engaged to be married. The wedding is set for the middle of next month.

In revealing those additional little details, Lily Blossom thought the truth would set Ken free.