I joined the Japanese Military on January 30th, 1937, young, naive, and eager to fight. My father had brought home anecdotes of his travels through the numerous wars he participated in. He seemed unscathed by the realities and horrors I would soon face in all forms. From this, I had no doubt the war would be a place for me to bring glory to Japan and my story. I did not yet realize how dark this, not to mention myself, would soon become.
I should have turned back once I got to this part of his memoir. If I could go back in time and tell myself not to read this part, I would have without question. But I trudged on, and what I found shocked me.
The first of his dark days began with the brutal and disciplined Japanese training. During this time, his spoiled and mostly comforted life which had mostly been spared from hell despite all the things he’d done was not spared this time. When his instructors learned of the context behind him joining the army, they made sure he paid for every bad thing he’d ever done in his life. A person training here would suffer enough to begin with, but it was far worse for Hiroshi. Here he discussed his book:
The given conditions were deserved by none other than the damned, and by some definition, myself. The contents of the repetitive day offered what few could hold through- and none would stay unchanged. “This is for your crimes,” They repeated again and again.
I headed to the bunk bed of my room where a few alien people stared at me. “What shipped you off?” They asked again and again.
“I burned my friend’s books and tried to kill him,” I replied when I couldn’t bear to hear them yell at me again.
It is unquestioned that the spirit and attributes of teen boys would have gained me the greatest of respect. That was always how they saw things. A guy comes in and messes you up. Will you stand idle, allow him to walk over you, and let it slide? That sets a dangerous precedent – anyone can walk over you. They can harm you, hurt you, torture you, torment you, they can do as they wish- and you won’t resist. Or will you fight back, make sure it is known you are not to be messed with, and keep the unwanted off your back?
At the time, I had never dreamed or thought that my murderous acts would be viewed as anything but defensive. I was murdering, but justified. That’s how I saw myself. I was merely protecting myself from the hostile and unforgiving world. All others would play rough with you. If you don’t kill others, others kill you.
The officers cared not for the respect you get amongst your peers- they wanted you to be disciplined, to stand in line, something which I rarely maintained. They turned a blind eye to those who messed me up. And so, to guarantee my own safety, I pushed and puppeted who I could. I was the dominion. All would answer my call.
I became lazy in a sense. So much I’d done back then to be at the top of my class, but playing rough had thrown me off course. Who would doubt that? I had to control and instill fear on everyone. But the officers wouldn’t have it. They eventually sent me to the frontlines, right in time for the Rape of Nanking. It was here I would commit what I had done that was most unforgivable.
I was once at the top of the food chain in my town, opposed by nobody but Akira. But when going against the whole country, the brutes of men that made up my legion turned every day into a living hell. I subdued the other members of the army that I could and made sure that as long as I was suffering, everyone else would be as well. My anger only grew worse one day when I woke up to find that Akira, who had completed school a few months earlier, was accepted into a unit stationed near mine that we interacted with all the time. And what hurt the most was he had an actual officer’s role. I’d tried to stay ahead of him by doing everything I could, and even playing dirty had only gotten him ahead. It was so unfair.
“What are you doing here?” I approached Akira one night after our units were eating together. Akira looked at me and laughed.
“I did everything I had to to legitimately to get here,” Akira replied simply. “Something you wouldn’t understand,”
I glared at him hard, hoping to scare him enough to gain the advantage, something which I hadn’t had in a long time. “You brought me here with our fight,” I seethed, itching for a fight. “I rotted in here with no friends, and I had to watch my back all the time! You don’t know what that’s like!”
Akira laughed, to my anger. “You came here because everyone was sick of you playing them dirty! You wanted to hurt everyone who was slightly in your way! And you call it unfair when we send you to a place to show you the other side?”
“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH I’VE HURTED HERE!” I screamed at him so loudly that other soldiers who were nearby started to come over. “THIS PLACE HAS MADE ME WORSE AND WORSE EVERY DAY, AND IT’S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!”
“I didn’t do anything,” Akira said loudly, but I could tell he was trying hard to keep his cool. I was losing it. Everything was turning hot red. “Once again, you’re here because you couldn’t be-”
“YOU PUT ME THROUGH ALL OF THIS!” I jumped at Akira and dragged him to the floor. Of course the other guys did little to stop this, because they were itching to see a fight. I wrestled Akira on the ground, trying to pin him down. He was a lot stronger than I thought, and my arms started to feel really heavy. I could see all the times back then I had done the exact same thing- I’d wrestled him until we were both well out of breath, but I’d always vow to beat him up next chance I got. This time, the fight wouldn’t happen for long. I had grown a bit stronger and after all my wrestling to survive I had almost managed to pin him down. Why didn’t Akira deserve this? It was because of him that I was even here after all…
“YOU MESSED UP FOR THE LAST TIME!” One of the officers eventually yelled, and he ripped me right off Akira just as I was about to give him a killing blow. The officer easily managed to pin me down, and with help from about four other soldiers, I had no chance…
…this incident did not sit well with me. Over the next few weeks, my status went from low to hated. I had attacked an officer, and everyone was against me. I needed something good to happen. It didn’t matter what happened anymore. I was going to get one thing that I enjoyed, something for me have power, to show my dominance, and to ultimately be happy.
And let me just tell you: that was only the foreward part of his autobiography. He has a whole chapter for all the horrible things he’s done in Saigon, and he’s done so much to so many people that Hoa Tran doesn’t get much recognition in the book. He’s done too much to too many people to simply focus on one person. He spread out everything to everyone he’s ever harmed, and she’s just one person.
And inevitably, Hoa Tran wasn’t the only woman that he impregnated. The numbers are staggering, honestly. There are four other girls from Vietnam who bore a child because of him- six from China, and another one from Laos. He writes great stories to all of them, but obviously for this story we need to focus on my own great grandma… because her life, after getting pregnant, would never be the same…