The Purple Heart (48 page)
Aiko came out of her
bedroom in a new black skirt that ended below her knees and donned a white silk
blouse. She had taken the time to put on a pearl necklace and matching earrings
and had brushed her hair into place.
“Well, what do you think?”
asked Aiko.
Cat looked over and then
said, “Now you look like you could walk into a senator’s office.”
Aiko grinned and picked up
her purse and opened the door as Cat followed. “It’s just your luck that you’re
also dating the grandson of a U.S. senator,” Cat said as the door closed behind
them.
Aiko left Cat waiting along
the curb. She looked at her watch. It was half past four. She was right on
time, but she didn’t know the U.S. Senate building well. A sense of nervousness
slowly started to boil within her. The taps from her high heels seemed to echo
loudly through the cavernous hall. She made her way up a flight of marble
stairs and turned right when she entered another hallway. She started to count
the room numbers when she arrived at the room she was looking for. She read the
name on the door, “The Office of U.S. Senator Matsuda, California.”
She smoothed down her skirt
and adjusted her blouse. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, straightened
up, turned the doorknob and entered. A middle-aged Asian woman looked up from
the front desk. She had a pleasant face and gave her a warm smile. She tilted
her head slightly to one side and then asked, “May I help you?”
Aiko approached the front
of the desk and said politely, “I’m here to see Senator Matsuda.”
A friendly expression
appeared on the woman’s face as she spoke, “Oh, you must be Aiko Satoh. He’s
been eager to meet you all day. Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll let him
know that you are here.”
Aiko thanked the woman, who
got up and disappeared around the corner. Instead of sitting, Aiko found
herself looking at the pictures hanging on the wall of the senator’s office. He
was a distinguished-looking man in his late eighties. There were pictures of
him shaking hands with many different U.S. presidents. Then she came to a
picture of him being honored with the Congressional Medal of Honor by-then
President Clinton. He had also fought in the 442
nd
, and if there were
anyone that would listen and understand her grandfather’s story, it would be
him. Of course, just happening to be the girlfriend of his grandson didn’t hurt
matters any.
The woman appeared from
behind the corner and with a smile said to Aiko, “He’ll see you now.”
Aiko thanked her and walked
to the partially opened door of the senator’s office. She tapped it lightly
when a friendly voice beckoned her in. She entered the office and came face to
face with the senator. His navy suit and burgundy tie gently draped his solid
frame as he stood up to greet her. He exuded warmth, but his disposition,
shaped by years of experience, commanded respect. Aiko suddenly felt smaller in
his presence as she extended her slender hand to the senator.
“Senator Matsuda, it’s so
nice to meet you,” said Aiko respectfully as she grasped the senator’s warm
hand.
“It’s so nice to meet you
as well, Aiko. Jonathan has told me so much about you,” he replied. “Well, only
as much as he could in the past couple of days.”
Aiko laughed with embarrassment
and the senator smiled affectionately. He motioned Aiko to a thick round oak
table flanked by two large green leather chairs. The seams of the leather were
hemmed together with brass round-ended tacks burnished by age.
“Can I get you some water?”
the senator asked as he lifted a pitcher of water in one hand and a glass in
the other. Aiko nodded as he poured out two glasses of water. He settled into
his chair and looked at Aiko. She began to feel more at ease. In him, she saw
the same quiet strength that she loved about Jonathan.
“From what my grandson has
told me, you’ve had quite an eventful few days,” said the senator.
“Yes, you can say that,”
Aiko replied.
“And how is my grandson?
Staying out of trouble?” he asked.
“Of course not, he’s always
involved in something,” Aiko replied playfully.
The senator chuckled. “That
sounds like my grandson. Always up to something.”
They shared a laugh when
the senator peered up at Aiko and continued, “Jonathan could only tell me so
much, Aiko. Why don’t you tell me your version of events about your
grandfather? Tell me about, Hiroshi Satoh.”
Aiko straightened, took a
deep breath, and began to tell the senator about her heroic grandfather. She
had rehearsed in her mind what she wanted to say and she found she didn’t have
to struggle. The stories of her grandfather flowed effortlessly as she extolled
his kindness, humor, generosity, and faithfulness. She described his bravery,
his valor, his sense of honor and duty. She even described how much he loved
her grandmother. When she was done, the senator sat in silence as if he had
just lost a friend. Many of Aiko’s stories had stirred similar memories of his
own service in the 442
nd
.
Aiko then offered one more
closing remark, “And that was my grandfather.”
“He sounded like a
remarkable man,” the senator said as his deep brown eyes looked at Aiko.
“Is there anything you can
do to help me clear my grandfather’s name?” asked Aiko.
“Of course. I will do
everything in my power to look into your grandfather’s situation. You have my
word on that, Aiko.”
Aiko couldn’t hide the
smile of relief. She felt reassured and suddenly happy. Had she pursued this
matter herself, it may have taken years. Her family, especially her grandmother
and Mr. Tanaka, deserved a quick resolution. She had known in her heart of
hearts that her grandfather was not a deserter. She wasn’t even sure how he
could have been labeled as such. But now she had a powerful advocate to
champion for him, and what better man than a former soldier of the 442
nd
.
The sun had started to set
and the streets outside the senator’s office were bathed in a bluish and
purplish tint illuminated by spots of hazy yellow from the streetlights. The
sounds of passing cars and their purring engines crept in through the slightly
open window. The senator rose, which prompted Aiko to do the same. He looked at
the young pretty woman before him and considered how lucky his grandson was to
have her.
“It’s getting late, but
your story deserves my full attention,” said the senator firmly.
“Thank you, Senator
Matsuda,” said Aiko gratefully.
“It’s also my duty, from
one soldier to another, and as an American, to make sure he is rightfully
honored.”
“My grandfather would be
very appreciative,” said Aiko with a new sense of familiarity toward her
grandfather whom she never met but grew to know well through her grandmother
and Mr. Tanaka.
“It’s getting late. If you
leave your contact information with Mary, I’ll call you once I hear something.”
“I’ll do that. Senator
Matsuda?”
“Yes?” replied the senator.
Aiko didn’t know what
prompted her to do it but she suddenly closed the distance between her and the
senator and gave him a hug. Maybe she didn’t have the words to express her
appreciation and for some reason, she suddenly felt that the senator was like a
part of her family. He was a little surprised, but he smiled and gently hugged
her back. Then she stepped away and simply said, “Thank you.”
After Aiko had left the
office, the senator found himself musing over the papers on his desk and though
many of them demanded his attention, they didn’t seem all that important right
then and there. Over the decades, he had represented the needs of the Japanese
American community, especially when it concerned the 442
nd
. It was
important to him that the sacrifices of those men would not be in vain. But
Aiko’s grandfather had an especially moving story. Throughout the years, he had
never heard of any desertions from the 442
nd
. It was one of the few
army regiments that proudly boasted that it had none.
He leaned toward his desk
and pulled up a memo pad bearing his name and wrote on it, “Sergeant Hiroshi
Satoh.” He tapped the memo pad with the end of his pen when his secretary
knocked on the door and peeped in.
“If you don’t need anything
more, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.
“Just one more thing, Mary,
before you leave. Cancel my afternoon meetings for tomorrow and see if you can
get a hold of Baker at the Pentagon,” asked the senator.
“Defense Secretary Baker?”
asked the secretary. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, I’ll
see you in the morning,” said the senator as he offered a reassuring smile.
“Very well. Have a good
night, then,” said the secretary as she quietly closed the door.
After a few days of
well-placed calls and face-to-face meetings, the Pentagon assigned an
investigative team to look into Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh’s service record. The
record was located and indicated that he was officially listed as missing in
action during the battle at the Vosges Mountains in France.
It took further
investigation to uncover the rest of the story. Many of the men who were
present and in command during the rescue mission at the Vosges Mountains had since
passed away. The battle took more Japanese Americans lives than there were to
save. The 442
nd
that day was in a hellish battle, without any field
support from the regular command to save 200 lives while losing 800 of their
own.
The senator himself had
always quietly reflected on what he felt was a double standard given to the
brave men of the 442
nd
. His determination to fight on was fueled by
his desire to prove that he was a true American soldier. As a young soldier,
all he wanted to do was to win the war and get home to his family. How the men
of the 442
nd
were to be recognized in the years and decades to come
was far from his mind. But more recently, he’d been fighting to get Japanese
American soldiers recognized as true Americans. And now, he was confronted with
the story of a fellow soldier of the 442
nd
who may have been grossly
and unjustly labeled a wartime deserter.
When the stateside
documents were reviewed, the investigators found it odd that Sergeant Hiroshi
Satoh’s name was crossed out. Even the letter of desertion that Aiko’s father
referred to was reviewed and though to be on official U.S. Army stationery,
there was no official record of such a letter ever being sent by the War
Department.
But it was the testimony of
Private Peter Tanaka that moved the investigative committee. Despite his
personal hardship and previous memory loss, his powerful testimonial to the
selfless courage and heroism of Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh gave life to man who had
only existed quietly on paper in the current military’s eyes. After four weeks
of research, there was enough support to reinstate Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh’s
official service record to “killed in action.” He was immediately eligible for
the U.S. Army’s decoration of the Purple Heart.
The sky was bathed in a
warm blue that canopied the White House Rose Garden, where so many important
ceremonies had taken place over the course of American history. The grass was a
vivid green and the air soothing and bore the scent of spring flowers.
The story of Sergeant
Hiroshi Satoh’s heroic actions reached the White House, and the White House
Press Office saw a huge opportunity for the President of the United States to
posthumously honor a wartime hero and show that heroes come in many faces. It
was a way to celebrate the great diversity of the military’s armed services as
well as the citizens of the United States of America. With the full backing of
the White House, a special Memorial Day ceremony was arranged to honor the
remarkable story of one American soldier’s experience. The usual people from
the press were invited, along with all those who had been part of his story.
Aiko stood at the end of
the aisle that ran between the rows of white chairs. She was wearing a royal
blue skirt with a matching jacket. It was unbuttoned halfway, showing the red
blouse underneath. She had just freed a slight snag in her white stockings
without creating a run, and she was relieved. She looked at her watch. There
were only a few more minutes before the ceremony would begin. She scanned the
people who were quieting conversing with one another in their seats as others
quietly settled in. It was even rumored that one of the Supreme Court justices
was also present. But on that day, many of the guests were Japanese Americans
and they had dressed looking their best that Memorial Day morning.
“Hello Aiko,” came a familiar
voice from behind.
Aiko turned around to see
Mr. Tanaka and his wife, Noriko. He had come out in his dark olive military
uniform that still seemed to fit him. For the occasion, he had worn his own
Purple Heart.
“Mr. Tanaka and Mrs.
Tanaka,” said Aiko as she warmly greeted them with a hug.
“My wife finally decided to
overcome her fear of flying for this occasion,” said Mr. Tanaka as his wife
blushed in embarrassment. They laughed and he continued, “I think your
grandfather would be so proud seeing all of this being done for him,” said Mr.
Tanaka.
“I think he would be,”
smiled Aiko. “Oh, Mr. Tanaka, I want you to meet someone.”
Aiko was able to get the
attention of another Japanese American woman who looked to be in her late
seventies. She and another gentleman, presumably her husband, strode over to
Aiko with beaming smiles. Behind them was a man who looked to be in his
mid-forties. She was wearing a long dress and she had shoulder-length hair with
streaks of silver running through it. Her husband was wearing a gray suit with
a blue-patterned tie. The younger man was in a dark navy suit, with a starched
blue shirt accented with a yellow tie.
“Mr. Tanaka, I want you to
meet Miho Sakamoto and her husband, Yukio. Miho is my grandmother’s sister.”
“It’s so nice to finally
meet you, Mr. Tanaka,” exclaimed Miho as her face lit up.
“I’m delighted. This is my
wife Noriko, and please call me Peter,” said Mr. Tanaka in a friendly manner as
he introduced his wife.
“And Mr. Tanaka, I want you
to meet their son… Kenji,” said Aiko profoundly.
Kenji extended his hand and
Mr. Tanaka had to pause for a moment when Aiko said their son’s name. He looked
over and Aiko nodded slightly with a smile. It was Miho, who was the girl that
Kenji spoke of as he was dying. He had said that she was the cutest girl in the
world. And she had named her son after him. He gripped the man’s hand and shook
it firmly and pressed his lips together as he admired the man who had carried
the name of his long-ago friend.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr.
Tanaka–we appreciate everything you’ve done for our family,” said Kenji.
“It’s my honor,” said Mr.
Tanaka as he then turned to Miho. “Kenji was a good soldier.”
“I know,” said Miho as she
bit back a moment of emotion.
“I think they’re about to
begin,” whispered Aiko. “My grandmother and everyone else are sitting up front
on the right. Your seats are in the front row on the left, Mr. Tanaka.”
Aiko sat down to the left
of her grandmother, who was already seated next to Aiko’s father. Then a tap
came on Aiko’s right shoulder from behind. She turned her head and saw Cat, who
was seated next to Tom. He was a sergeant in the Marines and looked quite
handsome in his dress whites. “This is so cool, Aiko!” Cat whispered in her
Jersey accent.
Aiko smiled. “I know.” She
looked to her left to see that Mr. Tanaka was seated with his wife and his
grandson, whose drawing lead to this auspicious occasion. Joey waved back at
Aiko. She winked back and waved playfully. A warm hand then slipped over Aiko’s
right hand and she turned to see her grandmother smiling with pride. She had
her hair up and had even put on a little makeup. She was wearing one of her
favorite long floral dresses with a white ruffle along the neckline. She gave
Aiko a warm look of deep appreciation and she said, “Thank you.”
Aiko placed her other hand
on top of her grandmother’s and held it warmly. She smiled back at her because
at that moment, nothing more needed to be said between them.
The President of the United
States walked up to the podium with a confident gait as everyone watched. He
was an older gentleman with slightly graying hair. He wore a navy blue suit
that fit snugly around his frame giving him a fit and trim look. He turned to
the crowd and there was a glint of profound respect in his eyes. He slowly
focused his attention on Mrs. Satoh and saw her looking back at him. He began
to speak.
“In the course of our proud
American history, we have fought many wars in the name of freedom. We have
overcome great acts of tyranny, aggression, and terrorism to preserve our way
of life and to bring peace to many corners of the world. It is our duty as
Americans to fight for freedom, especially when our own freedoms are
threatened. This fight though, had been borne on the shoulders of many
dedicated young men and women of our armed forces.” The president took a moment
to survey the crowd, who listened intently.
“But many of them paid the
ultimate sacrifice that this country can ever ask of them. They will never be
forgotten, and they will always be honored. However, sometimes their sacrifice
is not recognized. This is something that I, and many members of Congress, are
trying to rectify. Honoring the sacrifices of these fine men and women, no
matter their ethnicity, should be an ongoing commitment of this country. We
must remember that in the U.S. military, the American soldier may come from
many different backgrounds but that his or her patriotism is always the same.”
The president’s words drew
a short round of applause from the crowd. He continued.
“Today, I have the
privilege to introduce to you one of our very own. This is a man whom I have
the privilege to call a friend and an American hero. He is a decorated World
War II war veteran, having received the Congressional Medal of Honor for his
service in the line of duty. Even though he was subjected to the injustice of
the internment camp, he still responded to the call of duty and performed
admirably in the all Japanese American regiment, the venerable 442
nd
.
After his war service, he continued on his service to this great country as one
of the most distinguished members of the United States Senate. My words alone
cannot commend this man and his life’s work but I have the pleasure to
introduce him to you today. Ladies and gentleman, I give to you, U.S. Senator
of California, Senator Matsuda.”
Applause erupted from the
crowd as the senior Senator rose from his seat and walked toward the podium.
Though in his late eighties, he was able to walk strongly up to the podium on
his own accord. His hair was surprisingly thick and still black. The president
clapped respectfully as the Japanese American war veteran, a reminder of the
past and present, walked toward him. The president then extended his hand and the
senator took it firmly as they both looked at one another with utmost mutual
respect and smiled as the photographers took pictures.
The president then stepped
down and took his seat while the senator took to the podium. He adjusted his
glasses and looked out into the crowd. He had given many speeches in his
lifetime, but this one was special. He gazed out at the White House lawn. He
looked in wonder at the people staring back at him and was comforted by the
familiarity of the faces looking back. There were men and women, old and young,
and he saw some older men proudly wearing their military uniforms. Many of them
had on the front of their uniforms, medals of distinction, serving as a living
reminder of the sacrifices that were part of war. But the one thing that made
that day different was that the many faces were Japanese Americans.
“Thank you Mr. President.
Thank you for your kind and warm introduction. Ladies and gentlemen…” Then the senator
paused, “Friends… we are gathered here today to honor one of our very own. A
man who gave his life to this great country in the line of duty. Like myself,
he was interned and his patriotism was unjustly questioned. But when my country
asked me to fight in World War II, I did not hesitate and I, and so many
others, like the man we honor today, volunteered. Some of us made it home… some
of us did not.”
“This soldier didn’t make
it back home. Nor was he ever recognized for making the ultimate sacrifice. In
the military, we have a saying to our brothers and sisters in arms: We will not
leave you behind. Though more than sixty years may have passed and I feel great
heartache that we didn’t do it sooner, today we bring back home Sergeant
Hiroshi Satoh of the 442
nd
.”
The senator paused to
collect his thoughts as emotion momentarily flooded through him but he gathered
his composure and continued. “You could have been my brother, Sergeant Satoh,
but you will always be my brother in arms. I’ve been told that Sergeant Hiroshi
Satoh had a nickname: ‘Home Run.’”
The senator paused once
more and continued, “To Hiroshi, wherever you may be, you can now come home, to
your family, your friends and your country. You can take your rightful place
among those who sacrificed their lives before you, with you and after you. You
are a true American hero.”
Tears and quiet sobbing
were heard as people were moved by the senator’s poignant words. He knew he had
to control his own emotions while extolling his fallen comrade. For him, his
own battle wasn’t just fighting for his country but fighting to be accepted as
an American. But now, he was fighting for a man who couldn’t be heard. He
lifted from beneath the podium a walnut case, which he opened and lifted for
everyone to see. It was lined with a shiny royal blue fabric and in the middle
was the Purple Heart medal.
“Mrs. Satoh, I give to you
the Purple Heart in honor of your husband, Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh of the 442
nd
,
for his service and sacrifice to this great country. We shall always remember
him and I salute him.”
The senator looked down at
Mrs. Satoh. She shook as pride, joy, and vindication coursed through her. She
stared up at the senator, who offered her a firm salute. His gesture did not go
unnoticed. The aging Japanese American war veterans in the audience, including
Mr. Tanaka, rose creakily from their seats and turned to Minami. She in turn
gazed back at scores of elderly veterans, who stood tall and proud, and in
uncanny unison, saluted in her direction. Minami stood up, helped by her son,
and nodded in humble appreciation at the gesture of generous respect they gave
to honor her husband. They held their salute with resolute faces. She turned
back to the senator, who still held his salute. There was a proud smile on his
face.
Minami’s eyes were then
suddenly drawn onto the glass-paned doors behind the senator leading into the
White House. A soldier in his full dress whites appeared behind the doors. It
was difficult to make out the ghostly figure, but it was unmistakably a man of
Japanese descent. He looked in Minami’s direction. He had a strong jaw line
with deep brown eyes. He was handsome with a strong build. He smiled softly
then suddenly disappeared. Minami’s heart skipped a beat. For a fleeting
moment, she thought she saw Hiroshi. She suddenly felt calm as images of
Hiroshi as the water boy, the carpenter, the martial artist, the astrologer,
the unconventional psychiatrist, the husband, the father, the hero, the
soldier, and the lover flashed before her.
The senator held his salute
for a moment more and lowered his hand. He stepped around the podium as a U.S.
Marine followed respectfully behind him with the folded flag of the United
States. He stopped in front of Minami and looked down at her solemnly. “Mrs.
Satoh, please accept this Purple Heart posthumously, on behalf of the United
States, in honor of Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh of the 442
nd
.” He
presented the medal to her.
Minami slowly took the case
that held the Purple Heart. She had seen many Purple Hearts adorned on other men
that day, but this one was different. This Purple Heart was Hiroshi’s, and she
could now cherish it.
