I was looking at a radio set to use as an accent piece in my bedroom and it is a Chinese set leftover from the cold war. A shipmate looked at it and commented that it looked like something you'd see a stray Japanese soldier out in a little straw hut in the middle of some Pacific use to try notify headquarters that he was standing by awaiting orders. I chuckled.
The radio set does look like something along those lines.
Back around '60 a couple of Japanese stragglers emerged and there was a book written about them and stragglers in general.
A Google search says that I could re-read it by getting it in a local library which seems interesting, but I think I'll pass as a lot of other things have happened since the book came out.
Still, that book fueled an interest that has stayed in the back of my head all of these years. Every time I see the subject come up, I tune right in.
The term 'stragglers' has seemed to have changed over the years. These days I hear them often referred to as 'holdouts'.
These are, of course, Japanese servicemen that refused to surrender because they either didn't know the war was over or they refused to acknowledge the Japanese surrender. During the 40s and 50s and even to the 60s these people were quite often a problem, especially in the Phillipines where a number of people were killed.
The last one I am aware of was Captain Fumio Nakahira, who was taken into custody sometime in 1980 on the Phillipine island on Mindoro. This was several years after I had gotten out of the service, so I suppose that technically, although pretty unlikely, I could have become a casualty of WW2 during the Vietnam era.
You have to wonder about the ethic that would make a man live like that for 35 years.
Many would easily write off a person like that as simply being nuts, but I am not so sure. When you look at the ethos of the average Japanese soldier in the Pacific, you can understand the mentality of no surrender.
Here's a pretty interesting link about Japanese holdouts:
http://www.wanpela.com/holdouts/
link is hot
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I was a straggler once. I held out for about a day after the war was over.
There was this war we fought against the Circle Trigon Army (read: field problem). I was given three guys to set up a radio relay station for the battalion. I was told that the field problem might last a couple of days longer than planned, so I was not to just fold up and leave until I was told to.
The deal was that there was a phone line on this hilltop where I could get radio reception from all over the Fort Carson down range area. The firing batteries that needed something brought out from garrison would radio me and I would relay the information back into garrison via phone.
Although radio chatter informed me that the field problem was over, nobody had specifically told me to pack up and go home so I didn't.
The following morning after everyone was in garrison the phone rang and the First Sergeant asked where the hell I was and I told him I was still on top of the hill, 'where I was supposed to be', awaiting orders.
"What the hell are you, some kind of Japanese soldier that doesn't know the war is over?" he asked. While his voice did not sound too pleased, he didn't sound all that miffed. He actually sounded mildly amused.
I was told to stay put, and about an hour or so later my very sheepish looking platoon leader showed up in a Jeep and asked me how long I intended to stay on that hill. I think I told him that I would remain there until my enlistment expired. He grinned and shook his head. He had already been chided for not telling us that the imaginary war against the Circle Trigon Army was over.
When I asked if I was in any trouble, he blushed a bit and told me that if there was any trouble it would be pretty short lived as he was the one that had ordered me to the hill and told me to stay until I was specifically relieved. He said that he would see to it that nothing happened to us.
Nothing did happen to me. The story got as high as battalion where I think it was stonewalled. It was one of those stories that the higher it went, the funnier it got. My platoon leader would blush when the incident was mentioned, my battery commander would grin broadly and the BnXO howled gleefully when he heard the tale. The BnCO had no sense of humor. He suggested an Article 15, but was told he'd never get it to stick. I could use both my platoon leader and my First General Order as my defense. I was not to quit my post until properly relieved. If I checked the box demanding my right to trial by courts-martial he would look like a fool.
A couple days later when I passed the battalion XO and saluted him he returned the salute and with a smirk said to me, "Sergeant, you were born at the wrong time. You shoulda been in the Japanese army back in 1945!"
Then he complimented me for obeying orders.
Thirty-five years later we can tell the rest of the story.
At the end of any field problem as soon as we got back into garrison there would be a complete zoo scene in the motor pool as the vehicles would be washed and maintained. There would be fights and arguements over the wash down hoses and buckets and brushes. It would take hours to get the vehicles back to the condition where they would simply tell already overtired GIs to hit the rack. Often this would go on until the wee hours of the morning. It was simply a big, giant suck pill.
I simply told the guys that we had two choices; we could call in and get the OK to return and face the motor pool zoo or try and evade it by overnighting. We'd get a good night's sleep and avoid the mob scene.
Now, I knew that my absence would be noticed instantly. I was the Battery Armorer and I would have to be there to take charge of the weapons turn-in. Of course, in my absence, the supply sergeant could take responsibility for that.
Secondly, I knew the entire battalion woud not be dismissed until every single weapon was accounted for.
I figured that there was no way in hell I was going to get away with this.
Little did I know that my Battery Commander was one of my admirers. He knew instantly what was going on and told my platoon leader to just see how this would play out. He was a person that truly enjoyed his job as Battery Commander and was a serious student of human nature. Later I found out he had a bet with my platoon leader that my brave little band would not be heard from at least until we ordered supplies from garrison. He opined that it would be several days until we ran out of food and we would call garrison for a resupply.
He simply ordered the supply sergeant to take the weapons in and when all the weapons were turned in except for the M-60 we had along with our personal M-16s he simply declared the weapons accounted for.
When we reached garrison we simply rolled into the motor pool. I took all of the weapons and turned them in. The supply sergeant saw me and at once started giving me hell and gloated that I was in deep trouble. I played along with him to get him off of my back until I grew tired of his bellyaching. Then I told him I was in compliance with my orders and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. He was an idiot, anyway.
The guys took care of the two Jeeps. It didn't take them very long to get them squared away. When we were done I was surprised to find that the guys were given the rest of the day off. I was sent for to see the Battery Commander. He was curious. He asked me how long I had planned on staying out there. I told him I would have stayed out there either until I was ordered in or my enlistment expired.
He just shook his head in amusement and then asked me how I planned on staying fed. I told him that there were enough units training out there so that late night raiding forays should be able to keep us going. If that didn't work, I would simply call garrison for resupply.
When the next field problem came up two things happened. First there were several volunteers to be detailed to me as I was reassigned to the same detail. Second, they made damned good and sure they notified me when the next war with the Circle Trigon Army was over.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
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