[Ed. note: the following is the National Japanese American Historical Society's transcript of the same interview with Mitsue Matsui.]

NATIONAL JAPANESE AMERICAN HISTORICAL SOCIETY
22 Peace Plaza, #225
San Francisco, California 94115

Interviewee: Mitsue Kono M.
Interviewer: Marvin Uratsu and Gary Otake
Date: December 12, 1997

Uratsu: This is an interview with Mitsue Kono Matsui. We're doing the interview in Seattle, and I'm the interviewer with Gary Otake helping me. My name is Marvin Uratsu. So, first off, Mitsue, where were you born?

M: I was born in San Francisco.

How many brothers and sisters did you have?

There were six of us in the family.

How many boys and how many girls?

Four boys and two girls.

Let's see. I know that one of the brothers is gone, but how many are living now?

Three brothers are gone-the eldest, second brother, and one brother who died in infancy. So there are three of us left at this time.

One brother and one sister?

Yes, one brother and one sister.

Otake: What year were you born?

Oh, must you know that?

We don't have to ask ladies.

Around the time of the influenza epidemic. Actually I'm a transplant from San Francisco-born, reared, and educated there.

The question is, "What 'ken' did your folks come from?"

My folks came from Hiroshima-ken: My Mother, from Koi-machi in Hiroshima City; my Father from Asa-gun, Yasumura, Kamiyasu.

In Hiroshima-ken?

That's right. Both were from Hiroshima-ken. Father came from a long line of doctors-either the thirteenth or fifteen generation of doctors. There is some question as to which generation.

Well, I am curious about your Father. What else do you remember about your Father?

My Father was a disciplinarian-rather strict in his ways and of the old school. Early in life, he had set his goal to follow his father's footsteps. He was conscientious and studious by nature and excelled in his studies. He attended normal school (teacher's college), taught a few years, and eventually ended up matriculating at Jikei Igakko (medical college) in Tokyo. I was told that he would burn the midnight oil studying ("tetsuya," as they say in Japan), whereas his younger brother who was gifted with a photographic memory did very little studying at home. This younger brother did very well in the medical field-built a hospital in Manchuria and in 1939 retired and returned to a comfortable life of retirement in Tokyo.

Father emigrated to the United States in December 1905 by way of Hawaii, arriving in San Francisco on Christmas day. I do recall his saying that the following year-the year of the big earthquake in San Francisco-he was recruited as a doctor aboard a vessel going to Alaska. When the ship docked in Seattle, he asked for permission to go ashore in order to get additional medical supplies. That is how he learned of the big earthquake and fire in San Francisco. He brought back news of the disaster to the crew and passengers, and they were equally shocked. He felt that God was with him and his life was spared. He became concerned about his many friends and the few possessions that he had left behind. The ship went on to Alaska and eventually returned to San Francisco. He was happy to see that all his friends had survived, but he cried over the books and medical supplies that he had lost. His friends laughed at him. More importantly, Father had survived the earthquake.

Lucky to be alive!

Yes. He was really lucky to be alive.

Now apparently he was a well-educated man.

He was and, in fact, medicine was his love, and I always revered him for his passion for education. When he underwent a major operation around the time the MIS Language School was being moved from Fort Snelling to the Presidio of Monterey, I stopped by in San Francisco where he was hospitalized so that I could introduce him to his first grandchild. He was really elated to meet his first grandchild. At that time he was given about five years to live, but he broke all medical records and lived to be ninety. Father was one who could quote out of a medical book and able to self-diagnose himself. He seemed to know that he was ready to go at the age of ninety. Upon his death when I went down to San Francisco, I found on his desk a medical book with a marker, so I know then and there that he was still keeping up with medicine. I often wished that I had half of his brains.

O.K. How was he as a Father? Did he give much advice?

As a father, he put strong emphasis on education and early in our childhood he set goals for each of us to meet. The eldest was to pursue the medical field, the second was to become an engineer, and I was to be a pharmacist. It must have been a big disappointment, for we failed him. Father was outstanding as a calligrapher-Japanese calligraphy, that is. When I was one of the select few invited to attend a special class in Japanese calligraphy on Saturdays, Father took interest and taught me, and I really appreciated that. As I said, he was really interested in education, so all of us tried hard to please him and get good grades.

Was your Mother also interested in ...

Our upbringing and the cultural side, so she gave me an opportunity to learn okoto, ohana, osaho, etc., which I really appreciated.

She was quite a cultured lady then. She must have come from a nice family.

Yes, indeed.

They must have come from a pretty nice family.

They both came from a good family. Of course, Father came from wealth. I might mention that when we went to Japan in 1938, just before the war, we went to see his yashiki. Grandfather's big mansion had been demolished, and what remained was a three-story "kura." Of course, you know what a "kura" is.

Storage?

Storage-and anyone with wealth had a large "kura." So we (the siblings) got together and decided to go into the "kura" to look for treasures, specifically the sword that my Grandfather was alleged to have owned. Of course that was gone. All we found were old newspapers pasted on the wall, so it turned out to be a lost cause.

What year was that?

We arrived in Japan in November of 1938, so it must have been the spring of 1939.

Just prior to Pearl Harbor?

Yes, prior to Pearl Harbor.

O.K. It's interesting that your Father emphasized education, and your Mother emphasized the cultural aspects. You had a pretty good education right there at home. But what kind of schooling did you have in San Francisco?

In San Francisco, I attended City College and Business College, and in Japan, I attended the Kumahira Typist Yoseisho (Japanese typing school).

How long did you stay in Japan?

Approximately ten months. The reason why my Father took the whole family to Japan was so that we could have an opportunity to meet our blood relatives and to actually experience life in Japan.

I see.

However the ulterior motive for the visit to Japan was to have Father's brothers, who were all in the medical profession, convince my brother that he should follow his Father's footsteps and carry on his legacy. Brother, on the other hand, was not at all interested. While attending the University of California, he told me, "You know, I don't even like to vivisection frogs." This was in his Zoology class. So I knew then that was not his field. Of course, my uncles insisted that brother remain and pursue his medical studies, so he did not have much choice. The only thing he could do was to take the entrance exam to one of the colleges in Tokyo. Hitotsubashi, a prestigious university, was one, but his transcript from the University of California did not arrive in time. So the next best was Waseda University. Fortunately, he passed the entrance exam to be admitted to Waseda.

Wonderful. How about you? Did you go to school?

My intentions were to attend Josen.

Girls' school, is it?

It's a women's college. The first thing my uncles had to say was that I had enough education. "Kekkon ni sawaru." You know what that means.

Well, for our benefit-"Kekkon ni sawaru"-that's, you might say, "interfere with your marriage."

Exactly.

So how much education did you get in Japan?

This is what happened. Naturally I couldn't go against my uncles' wishes. What I did then was to learn "ocha" and "ohana." Then one of my relatives offered to teach me "shamisen." Since I had "okoto" lessons in San Francisco, I was delighted to learn "shamisen." But during those days, which was considered to be wartime in Japan, I could not practice where I could be heard. So I went into the "kura" to do my practicing. This was in Koi in Hiroshima City at my mother's place where we stayed.

And then a couple of months before we were to leave Japan, my Mother said that she was sorry that I could not attend Josen, so if I wished she would send me to a Japanese typing school. I said, "By all means, by all means." I was delighted. In order to complete the studies on time, I had to double up on the hours-in other words, put in more hours each day. But the course was somewhat difficult for me because I was in competition with the girls in Japan. The instruction was in Japanese. When it was time for examinations, I almost had to memorize the passages. I completed the requirements and was already on the high seas returning to the states when graduation took place. Eventually my classmate from Hokkaido wrote to me to let me know that I had finished at the top of the class. I felt real good about that when I, a Nisei, was in competition with the girls in Japan.

Oh, Japanese typing class and at the top of the class-wonderful.

You know, of course, now they have the computers and Kanji WORD software, but during those days the "katsujis" were arranged on a ban with 3,125 katsujis and additional characters in the "chozoko" to supplement. So you had to know exactly where these characters were located. In order to graduate, you had to type thirty characters per minute, so you almost had to memorize the material. But I managed somehow.

Oh, that's great-wonderful. Now I take it that you were able to do that much, so you must have had to read and write Japanese quite well.

Yes, to a certain extent. People had the impression that I was reared and educated in Japan. In fact, one of my close friends assumed all along that I was a "kibei." Actually I attended Kinmon Gakuen (Golden Gate Institute) in San Francisco. The truth is I was in competition with a girl from Japan. She was the daughter of the Branch Manager (shitencho) of Shokin Ginko, as I recall.

Yokohama Species Bank, or was it Bank of Tokyo?

Prior to the war Bank of Tokyo was not in existence in San Francisco. To the best of my knowledge, there were two Japanese banks in San Francisco-Sumitomo, or was it Yokohama Species, and Shokin. So I was in competition with this person who was a year or so older than I, which meant that I really had to study hard in order to keep up with her. We went beyond the high school level.

O.K. I was going to ask you that.

In the meantime I've forgotten a lot of my Japanese. But I still have the occasion to use my Japanese, since Tak was with Mitsubishi International Corporation in Seattle. The wives of the "chuzaiin" who have since returned to Japan still write to me, which means that I would have to respond in Japanese.

Oh, that's wonderful.

So that's good practice for me. I've forgotten some of the characters, but there's always the good stand-by-the dictionary to refer to.

Wonderful, you've had an excellent education not only in the United States, but you had quite a bit of education in Japan, and then back in San Francisco at Kinmon Gakuen.

I really appreciated the opportunity that I had, and as I say, the folks were really interested in our education. I attended Kinmon Gakuen every day after public school, and then on Saturdays a select few of us were invited to learn Japanese calligraphy at the Principal's home under the tutelage of Mrs. Suzuki, his wife. She was an outstanding instructor in "oshuji." When the word got out about the private lessons, the parents objected, so the teacher had to open up a class using the school facilities. When Kaya no miya ryodenka (Prince and Princess Kaya) visited our school, two of us were selected to do "gozen kigo." Using a "fude" (brush) on the blackboard was out of the question, so we used chalk to write the song, "Nara no Miyako." The class sang this song in front of the royal highnesses.

And impressed the Prince and Princess?

Yes. And, of course, before that, Prince and Princess Takamatsu also visited our school. We had to learn to speak high level (honorific) Japanese; for instance, "Takamatsu no miya denka ga godairin asobasare mashita." In other words, "asobase kotoba."

What does that all mean?

"Godairin asobasare mashita" had reference to their visiting.

That's a sort of welcome.

Isn't that interesting?

That's good. Now we're going to talk about Pearl Harbor, but even before Pearl Harbor a lot of the Japanese community leaders were picked up by the FBI and sent away to special camps. A lot of the leaders taken were teachers and organizers of Japanese schools, and so on. I was wondering whether your teacher or the schoolmaster at Kinmon Gakuen was taken away by the FBI? Anything like that happen?

I have no knowledge as to what actually happened to the principal, Mr. Suzuki, at the outbreak of the war. In the winter of 1943 I heard from him in Boulder, Colorado where he was teaching the Japanese language at the Navy Language School. He had learned that I was at Camp Savage as a Japanese typist and wrote to me. His inquiry had something to do with the Japanese typewriter. I really don't know whether he was taken in by the FBI, but I do know that some of the leaders in the Japanese community involved with Nikkeijinkai (Japanese Community Service), Kenjinkai, ministers of churches, etc., were rounded up.

If you heard from him from Boulder, maybe he was a teacher there?

He was teaching there, yes. A highly qualified and capable teacher.

He must have been a pretty good teacher because you did pretty good with Japanese.

He was an excellent instructor and very professional in his field.

Now, we come to December 7, 1941. Where were you when that happened?

I was at home.

In San Francisco?

Yes. One of my co-workers at the Japanese Chamber of Commerce called to break the horrendous news that Pearl Harbor had been bombed by Japanese forces. I was mortified and in a state of shock, not knowing what the future held. We had endured the blatant, relentless racial hatred and discrimination on the West Coast for many years, and I felt that racial tension would worsen.

I might interject at this point that when I returned to the states in 1939, I had to take on the role of my Mother, which meant enrolling my siblings in school, keeping house, etc., until my Mother's return. During the interval, Mr. Suzuki gave me permission to use the Japanese typewriter at the school to help him and at the same time to keep me in practice. Upon Mother's return, I sought employment, and the first place that offered me a job was Mitsubishi Shoji. Office jobs were hard to come by, but I happened to have that special skill that very few people had.

Yeah, you were at the top of the class.

They offered me a job as Japanese typist in their New York office. I had led a sheltered life and had never been away from home so Mother discouraged me from going. She felt that New York was a bit too far to go, so I had to reluctantly turn down the offer. I was then interviewed by the Consulate General, but I finally ended up working for the Japanese Chamber of Commerce which was officed in the Postal Telegraph Building on Battery Street in San Francisco in the same building as the Consulate General. My position there was that of Secretary to Mr. Obana, the Executive Officer. He was a highly educated person with a degree from a university in Japan and also from the University of Wisconsin, so was therefore bilingual and highly qualified for the position.

That would have been in 1940-41.

Yes, so when the war broke out the first thing they did was to padlock our office.

Who were they?

The FBI. They padlocked our office as well as the Consulate General. I still remember the Executive Officer directing me to be very careful of incoming calls, but I did not know the reason why at the time, but I think the higher authorities knew that the relationship between the U.S. and Japan was deteriorating and that something was going to happen. Therefore, I kept a complete log of all the incoming calls and my responses as well.

Did any of the Japanese Chamber of Commerce people get taken away by the FBI?

In fact my boss, an avid golfer, was out on the golf course that particular day, and as I recall the FBI showed up at his apartment and waited for his return.

They picked him up?

Yes, they picked him up.

Do you know where he was sent?

No, I do not recall. His wife was pregnant at the time, so we (the employees) did everything possible to help her through this traumatic period. Eventually the FBI released the office, and what we did first of all was to sell the furniture (conference table, bookcases, desks, filing cabinets, etc.) and office equipment to raise enough money to pay the rent, since the money was frozen. Everything went for a song. Fortunately, we had Mr. Saburo Kido, our attorney, to take charge and to advise us.

So you could pay the rent?

Yes, but I decided to keep the Japanese typewriter for future use, if there was to be a future, since it was in excellent condition and actually used a short time. I arranged to have it stored for the duration with one of the JC of C's members-an import company. But in the meantime I was told that the Fourth U.S. Army was looking for a Japanese typewriter. I immediately placed a call to the Presidio and was connected to a person by the name of Lieutenant Dowd, only to learn that he had located one and had no need for another. How about that? But after the war when I checked back with the import company, no one seemed to know where the typewriter was being stored.

Mitzi, tell us about the Lt. Dowd. What was his connection with the MISLS?

He was the Adjutant of the Military Intelligence Service Language School at Camp Savage when I first met him. To go back, on September 23, 1943 I walked through the gates of Topaz with mixed emotion and trepidation, thanked the well-wishers who gave me a warm send-off, and then I was on my way to the train depot in Delta. The folks were allowed to accompany me to the station for the final farewell. This was to be the turning point in my life, for it meant a transition from regulated communal living to that of returning to the mainstream of society, thus terminating one year and four months of adverse and unnatural living behind barbed wire fences in the shadows of the sentry towers. Although it was with some apprehension that I was leaving behind my loved ones in the God-forsaken country, I was bound and determined to relocated and settle to a more meaningful and purposeful life and take my rightful place in society. More importantly, my first concern was not only to return to the mainstream of society, but to contribute my share to the war effort. As departure time arrived, I couldn't help but become quite emotional. I bid farewell to my folks and well-wishers and boarded the train. My spirits were high with expectations in sharp contrast to the time we were shunted off to a concentration camp under military guard. As the train pulled out, I felt as though I was being liberated, but somewhat apprehensive of what I might encounter enroute. The train was operating under wartime conditions and was crowded with civilians and many men in uniform, but fortunately there was no incident or unpleasantness. As I sat in contemplation gazing at the scenery outside, I realized that I was suddenly enjoying freedom again. Freedom that I had taken for granted became precious and almost overwhelmed me. The second day found me in the windy city, Chicago, and after several hours of layover, I boarded the train for the twin cities. Changing trains at St. Paul for Savage, I was now on the last leg of the journey.

So it was on one sultry Saturday morning September 25, 1943 that I detrained at a desolate countryside train depot by Camp Savage. I had finally arrived at my destination with all my worldly possessions-a suitcase and a carton box. The stationmaster seemed to know where I was destined. He directed me to the school Administration Building which was within walking distance, and there I was received by Captain Laurence Dowd, the Adjutant.

That was when you got the assignment to MISLS in Minnesota?

That's right. I did not want to remain in Topaz, living in a demeaning environment where the morale among the evacuees was low. So when the opportunity presented itself, I proceeded to apply for employment nearby so that in case of an emergency, I could come home-home meaning to my folks in camp. I applied at ZCMI, Remington Rand, and other offices in Salt Lake City, but the responses were disappointing-all negative. I was really disillusioned. Well, years later people laughed at me and told me in no uncertain terms that I had to be a Mormon to get any decent job in Salt Lake City.

Did you become a Mormon?

No, I did not. So I was really dejected. My morale was below ground level, and that was true with many others. Then out of the blue I received a letter from Yukio Kawamoto stationed at Camp Savage. (He did very well for himself and went on to work for the State Department, as I recall.) It so happened that he and I participated in a Japanese oratorical contest in Fresno back in the 30's. Also I had gone to college with him. He came to my rescue, for he had remembered that I had this particular skill (Japanese typing). When I submitted my application for employment as Japanese typist with the MISLS, the response was almost instantaneous. I was accepted. In a matter of days I was granted clearance from the War Relocation Authority to leave camp.

For your assignment with MISLS?

Yes.

How much money did the WRA give you?

This is what I often wondered and asked others about. I understand that when the WRA finally closed the concentration camps, each person received $25 and transportation to his destination. Whether I collected the $25, I do not recall. People said, "Probably not," but I did get the train ticket to go to Camp Savage.

That's from Topaz to...

From Topaz to Camp Savage. In the first place, I did not know where Camp Savage was, so I had one of my friends meet me in Chicago. Since there were several hours of layover, he stayed with me and made sure I boarded the right train for St. Paul.

From Chicago to St. Paul

Yes. Of course, I had to ask the conductor for directions to Camp Savage, and he told me to make connections at St. Paul. Not realizing that Akira Oshida was waiting for me at the St. Paul station, I made the transfer and took the trunk line to Savage.

Oh, he was?

Yes, but there was a breakdown in communications. Before departing Topaz, I had written to the school to see if they could arrange for my accommodations. I did not receive the response in time.

O.K. That's good. Now what happened to that typewriter that he was asking about?

As I said, when I contacted Lt. Dowd, he indicated that he had already located a Japanese typewriter and had no need for another. He should have taken it. That typewriter which was in storage disappeared, and now they have computers and Kanji WORD software, so no one would want such antiquated equipment.

It has historical significance. Now in Camp Savage did you have a Japanese typewriter?

Yes. However, soon after I reported in as a Japanese typist, I was reassigned temporarily to Mr. Aiso's office. Sergeant Tsutomu Matsumoto was on duty as his Chief Clerk. You probably knew him or of him since his last duty station was in the Bay area. He did very well for himself-went up the rank, retired as a full Colonel, and went on to work for Federal Civil Service. He passed away in 1984.

Now, that's fine. I want you to talk more about your MIS experience, but I want to get back to Pearl Harbor time. Now your family-most of your family-were in San Francisco at that time, except Masami?

That's true. But my second brother Yoshio was residing in Detroit, Michigan and matriculating at the Lawrence Institute of Technology, now known as the Lawrence Technological University. He received his Mechanical Engineering degree from that Institute in 1945.

But the only one that was in Japan at that time was Masami?

Yes. When I left Topaz (and I failed to mention this earlier), I took my youngest brother to Chicago and then entrained him for Detroit to pursue further education. So then the two brothers were in school there until they were drafted into the U.S. Army.

What happened to your Father and Mother?

They remained in camp with my sister. I felt real bad about leaving my parents with my sister, and to his day I owe her a deep debt of gratitude.

In Topaz?

Yes. They remained in Topaz until the camp closed.

When Pearl Harbor happened, what kind of reaction did you have?

I just couldn't believe it, and I think that was true with many others. Feeling of powerlessness and despair set in; I was in a state of shock. I was afraid to venture outside. I said to myself, "What happened? What brought this on." But there must have been a good reason.

Now I'm kinda curious. You know your Father was a well-educated man. He must have had thoughts at that time. Did he ever communicate those thoughts to you?

No, he wasn't that type. I might mention that when I was younger, I felt that he was on a high pedestal. He did not communicate as openly as other heads of families. Father was what you call "Danna san." My Mother addressed him as "Danna san," so when (my youngest brother) was little, he told Mother one day that "Danna san" had come home. Not too many families used that expression, I don't think.

O.K. Does that describe your Father pretty well?

Yes.

You really didn't know what he thought when Pearl Harbor happened.

Not really. I suppose he had hoped Japan would come out victorious like most other Isseis. But I don't know for sure what went through his mind. What I'm sure about was his concern for his son in Japan.

Masami?

Yes, Masami.

Did he say anything like that to you?

No. But I know he was quite concerned, so I sent several messages to my brother in Japan through the American Red Cross, which I later learned did reach. For one reason or other I never got the response that brother had sent.

You didn't get any message back?

No, I did not. Perhaps because we were on the move. In fact, brother did not even know our whereabouts. I later learned that he ran into one of his friends (Minoru Ichiyasu) in front of the NYK Building in Tokyo.

Is this during the war?

No, this was after the war. His friend did not know the exact whereabouts of my folks. However, he said to my brother, "I know where your sister is." Well, just before Christmas, a letter addressed to me in my maiden name (Mitsue Kono) was delivered to Fort Snelling. In the meantime I got married, so the letter sat in the mail room, undelivered, and furthermore I was no longer with the school. Miraculously Tak latched on to it and brought it home. I just couldn't understand why the Lieutenant would be writing to me, although his name was familiar. When I opened the envelope, here was this three-page typewritten letter, single-spaced, signed "Mas" (my brother). It was a touching letter filled with poignant memories. He filled us in on the destruction and devastation in Tokyo, the bombings, the hardship and suffering he had to endure, food shortage, how he managed to complete his studies at Waseda University, his marriage to a Professor's daughter, his bundle of joy-a baby girl, etc. It was the most welcome piece of correspondence when I realized that we had finally made contact. It was an exhilarating feeling indeed to learn that he was alive. I forwarded the letter post haste to the folks in camp, and I am sure it turned out to be a wonderful Christmas present for them.

Now why did he use the name Ichiyasu?

Apparently Minoru Ichiyasu offered to send the letter via APO for him so that it could be handled expeditiously. The letter was signed "Mas" to tie in with the initial "M" on the return address.

You knew he was alive at least.

Yes, at this point we knew he was alive. It was really a wonderful feeling.

You were away from your Father, so you wouldn't know the reaction. But that'd have been interesting.

Yes, that would have been quite interesting.

At this point I'd like to bring out that in camp, mixing the first, second and third generations and placing them in abnormal living conditions naturally resulted in tension and conflicts. Camp life disrupted family patterns, and the hardest hit were the Isseis. I sensed that my Father felt that he had been stripped of his authority and responsibilities as the breadwinner and head of household; and with us, as wards of the government, he felt he was no longer indispensable. However, we made an honest effort to see that Father remained the patriarch and commanded our respect. We continued to look up to him for his wise counsel. We were a close-knit family and conducted ourselves in a respectable manner so as not to bring dishonor to the family name. Good behavior, obeisance, and respect for elders were expected of us-qualities that our parents instilled in us since childhood. Living under adverse conditions certainly did not change our attitude towards our parents. In fact our family life was disciplined, and we always had meals together as a family unit in the mess hall.

But this was in camp, and this was mealtime you're talking about.

Yes, as I said, we respected Father and looked up to him. He needed that respect which, I think, he appreciated.

When time came for me to leave camp, I asked my boss, the Finance Officer, if it could be arranged for my Father to be reassigned to the Pay Station. I wanted to make sure he had a respectable job, so to speak. So Father filled the position of Paymaster to disburse checks to the residents. He really enjoyed manning the pay station.

Paymaster for whom?

These were checks issued to the residents to cover clothing allowances and the meager pay for work performed.

In the internment camp?

Yes, in the concentration camp. I think he really enjoyed that job. It was a good job for him.

Now, Mitsue, you stayed in the internment camp in Topaz for how long?

About a year?

About a year? Can you describe the living conditions there?

Topaz or the Central Utah Relocation Center was a desolate place on parched land-a God-forsaken country in the Sevier Desert which at one time had been the bottom of the lake. Topaz sat on loose powdery sand-an area one mile square with 42 blocks. Each block was comprised of 12 barracks or tar-paper shacks with a mess hall, laundry, toilet and washroom facilities and recreation hall in the center of the block. Topaz was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by barbed-wire fences, watchtowers with armed guards and searchlights at strategic points. We were literally prisoners of war, or to put it mildly, victims of war who were involuntarily exiled or banished to a remote area to live out the duration of the war and subjected to harsh security measures. Life was miserable, for we had to endure the intolerable heat in summer, bitter cold in winter and worst of all, cope with the terrific duststorms which kicked up sand and loose gravel all too often. If we happened to be outdoors during the storm, we had to take refuge behind the barracks or some barrier until the wind subsided. In winter the roads were almost impassable. We had to deal with a quagmire-a mixture of loose sand and rain. This heavy, sticky mud clung to our boots and made walking difficult.

When we arrived at Topaz, the barracks had not been completed, sheetrock was not in place, and as a result loose sand and dust seeped through the cracks in the wall or roof. Everywhere there were layers upon layers of the powdery substance. The constant duststorms were a nuisance, and the smell of dust prevailed-an unhealthy situation. And, my goodness, you'd sweep or wipe away the dust one minute, and the next minute you'd be doing it again. The trouble was Topaz had been cleared of sagebrushes.

You swept the floor and swept it again?

That's right, exactly. Of course, with us, there were three of us and my parents. In other words, five of us were all in one room.

In one room?

Yes. We had to partition off the area with sheets and blankets for privacy. I can't remember if the pot belly stoves were already in place when we arrived.

A family of five in one room?

Yes, one room.

And how big a room was that?

It was approximately 20 by 24 feet, and lacked the basic amenities.

And how thick was the partition with the next unit?

The partitions were such that you could hear the conversation or commotion going on in the adjacent units.

You could hear?

Why, yes. It was not soundproof.

Tell us a little bit about your bathing facilities.

We had to cope with the indignity of shared bathing, washroom, and toilet facilities which were located in the center of the block.

Of the block?

Yes, so it was not very private. People complained about the toilet facilities, which were wide open.

That was kind of embarrassing for the younger women especially.

Exactly.

How were your laundry facilities?

I would say adequate.

Did you use wash boards?

That's about the only thing we had. No washing machines to speak of.

No washing machines?

No.

Tell us a little bit about the dining facilities. I mean you call it dining, a place to eat.

The place to eat was all right, but the meals at the beginning were rather poor. From what I understand we were to have the same sort of meals as the military and pricewise the same. But eventually when the Japanese cooks took over, the quality of the meals improved. The trouble was sugar and meat intended for the evacuees started to disappear.

What happened?

Well, from what I understand the Caucasians were appropriating these rationed items, and one day they were caught red handed. Meat and sugar were found in the trunk of their cars.

There must've been a lot of meat. Were they gonna sell it or use it themselves?

I have no idea.

Now, getting back to-I think you used to call it mess hall-now you went...

Yes, it was demeaning to line up for our meals.

You had to line up for that?

That's right. Everything was a line up.

Now your Father was so-called "Danna san." In the dining room were all the children and family seated in one place?

That was just the way it was supposed to be, and we did that. We always sat together.

With your Father as head?

Yes, that's right. We ate together as a family unit.

Was that unusual for the family to stay together to eat?

Not really, but family relationships deteriorated, and some parents found it difficult to keep families together.

I imagine children liked to eat with their friends.

That's right, and you cannot blame them either, I guess. But it was nice to keep the family in one unit, especially at mealtime.

O.K. Now you had enough of camp life, and so you took the job and went to MISLS?

That's right.

And you went there as a typist, and fortunately for you there was a need in John Aiso's office for a secretary.

That was supposed to be a temporary reassignment, but I stayed with Major Aiso up to the time he received orders for overseas duty with the Occupation forces in Japan. I think it was around October of 1945.

How long did you stay with MISLS working with John Aiso?

Until the fall of 1945.

Was that when John Aiso got his assignment to Tokyo?

Yes. And then Paul Tekawa took over, so I worked with him for a while.

Were you there approximately two years?

Yes, approximately two years.

That must have been an interesting time for you to work with John Aiso. What was his title again?

Director of Academic Training at MISLS. He first started as a student at the Japanese Language School under the Intelligence Section of the Fourth Army. He went on to be Assistant Instructor and then Head Instructor when the school formally opened on November 1, 1941. With a bilingual and bicultural background, along with his legal experience, drive and leadership, he was eminently qualified for the formidable and challenging task of establishing a unique school-a school to teach the Japanese language, Japanese military terms, military intelligence, etc.-which was non-existent at the time. It should be noted that this was the first time a Nisei was put in charge of a vital operation during World War II.

What was his education?

Mr. Aiso had a very impressive background. He was always the first in whatever he undertook. I firmly believe that his parents had a lot to do with building his character and shaping his destiny, and at an early age inculcated in his mind the importance of education in order to succeed in the world.

At LeConte Junior High he was elected the first Japanese American student body president and went on to Hollywood High where he distinguished himself as captain of the debating team. He led the team to a Southern California High School championship in 1926, following which he was selected by the faculty to be the valedictorian of his class. He was also the first Japanese American to be elected to the Ephebian Honor Society.

After graduating with honors from Hollywood High at the age of 16, he persuaded his parents to let him go to Tokyo to study the Japanese language. He entered Seijo Gakuen and studied for 10 months, then returned to the states, and in the fall of 1927 enrolled at Brown University on a scholarship. He was not quite 17 at the time. Working part-time, he managed to participate in various activities and led an active student life. He was selected to be the valedictorian of his class and was graduated cum laude with Final Honors in Economics. He continued on to Harvard Law School, graduating in 1934 with a Bachelor of Laws degree (Juris Doctor) and was admitted to the Bar in New York.

He worked for a law firm in New York. Somewhere along the way in order to master the Japanese legalese, he enrolled as a special student at Chuo University in Tokyo and stayed until the end of the school year (March of 1937). He was planning to return to the United States when he was offered a job with a British corporation in Japanese-occupied Manchukuo. He was eventually promoted to Director of the corporation, resulting in a prolonged stay. He returned to the States in 1940 (?) and was drafted into the U.S. Army in April of 1941.

Do you know what his rank was when he was ordered to the Presidio of San Francisco?

He was an enlisted man-a PFC (Private First Class).

If you recall, Captain Kai E. Rasmussen went on a screening tour to military installations testing soldiers of Japanese ancestry for their command of the Japanese language. He was pretty disappointed with the outcome. But it was at Camp Haan that Capt. Rasmussen found PFC Aiso. He explained to him that a Japanese Language School was being planned at the Fourth Army Intelligence School.

PFC Aiso's intentions were to get his discharge papers and resume his law practice in Los Angeles. As it turned out he was ordered to report to the Presidio of San Francisco where Lieutenant Colonel Weckerling was waiting for him. What the Colonel had to say made him change his mind. The Colonel said, "John, your country needs you!" Aiso san was deeply moved by his remarks, for this was the first time anyone in the military or otherwise said "Your country." At times Aiso san felt that he was a man without a country-he was berated as a "Jap," and in Japan discriminated as a "son of an emigrant." Moved by the Colonel's remarks, he saluted him and responded, "Yes, sir." And that's how it all happened.

At the Presidio there were no classroom facilities available, so they ended up using an abandoned hangar at Crissey field to set up the school. The hangar had to be partitioned off for barracks and classrooms.

Living quarters and school?

Yes. Orange crates were used for chairs. A mere $2,000 in appropriations was received to operate the school. Captain Rasmussen and others went from store to store in San Francisco looking for dictionaries and teaching material. The school had to borrow typewriters, paper and other supplies to begin with.

Teaching material?

The basic material used was the text books that Captain Rasmussen brought back from Japan like the Naganuma readers. These were torn apart and reproduced on the mimeograph at first because there wasn't enough money. With no precedents, guidelines or direction, the teaching staff had to develop a course of study, including Japanese language (reading, writing and speaking), geography, Japanese military terminology, Japanese cursive writing, translating, map reading, etc. (Captain Rasmussen was Assistant Military Attache in Tokyo for about three years and returned to the U.S. in 1940. He was a far-sighted officer and is credited with launching the MIS program at the Presidio of San Francisco. He became the Commandant of the MISLS at Camp Savage.)

That's the way the school started?

Exactly, with about sixty students and eight instructors.

Now, we've come to the end of the tape. We'll take a break.

Uratsu: O.K. We're ready to start. Tell us what John Aiso was like.

He was a great Nisei leader-a born leader-and to me a mentor, role model, and professional in every sense of the word. He was an intellectual and an achiever with a brilliant background. I was very proud and privileged to serve as his personal secretary.

He was a sort of father figure and mentor to the students. And he was a person of courage, integrity, dedication, and one who was self-confident as a speaker. As you know, public speaking was his forte. He showed good rapport with the civilian and military faculty members as well as the administrative staff. He really commanded their full respect in that way. And, in fact, as I recall, he set up the standards and pace by personal example; and with his strength of character and dedication, he drew out the best from the Kibei and Nisei staff. He was a wonderful person.

With an ever increasing workload with demands from the field for more and more linguists as the war progressed, there were problems along with accelerating the course and trying to meet the goal, but he never lost his cool and administered the program effectively. I admired him for that. He always undertook his various tasks with passionate devotion and at the same time demanded much from his instructors. He worked well under pressure and was literally the driving force of the school.

He must have had terrific pressure from the topside.

That's right. Even during the early stages of the war, reports were reaching the Pentagon of the valuable and outstanding service being rendered by the MIS linguists in Alaska and Guadalcanal. The field commanders were clamoring for more and more interpreters, interrogators, and translators, and in order to meet the greatly expanded field requirements, the course of study had to be accelerated.

Graduates of MISLS?

Yes, and in the end, the school graduated 6,000 linguists (including OCS students and WACs), some of whom also went on to serve as translators, interrogators, and interpreters during the U.S. Occupation of Japan.

We'll get to the Occupation a little later. But about John Aiso, was his family with him?

Yes. While at Camp Savage, he and his family were quartered at Shakopee; at Fort Snelling they were housed in quarters next to Major Dowd's where I stayed. Then he left when he received orders for overseas duty.

In Tokyo?

Yes. He was assigned to General Charles Willoughby's Civil Information Section, G-2, SCAP, as legal assistant to purge the Japanese government of militarism.

Well, before we get to Tokyo, I want to ask you what some of the major concerns were as far as John Aiso's involvement in running the school went. Did we pretty well cover that?

As the war progressed, changes had to be made in the curriculum, and instructional material had to be prepared by faculty members who had very little experience along these lines. With demands for more and more linguists from the field commanders, more students had to be recruited so some of the enlisted instructors and the Caucasian officers teamed up to go on a recruiting mission to the concentration camps. Another instructor from Hawaii took a team of recruiters to Hawaii and returned with 320 volunteers, thus bringing the total enrollment of Hawaiian Niseis to over 800 during the 1943-44 period.

In the meantime Major Aiso had to accelerate the course, and he did his level best to satisfy the requirements out in the field. He did an excellent job too of motivating the instructors.

You've been working right under John Aiso. Now the relationship between him and the teachers, did that work out pretty well?

Yes, he always had a good rapport with the instructors, so there were no problems.

But what did you think of the student body in the main?

The student body was mainly comprised of volunteers from Hawaii, volunteers from the concentration camps, non-Nikkei officer candidates transferred from the University of Michigan, and Nisei WACs (Women's Army Corps). Those that excelled in their studies became enlisted instructors and effective combat intelligence operators in the field. The students had quite a heavy workload and put in long hours of study. Even after lights out they were said to be studying under bedcovers with a flashlight or studying in the latrine. The students in the main were studious, conscientious and really studied hard to meet the stiff requirements for graduation. I really admired them for their dedication.

Were there personal problems the students faced?

Personal problems within the family? One of the students came to our office and said, "My wife is expecting soon and I need to be with her. Do you suppose I could get 'leave?'" I sent him on to Major Aiso, and his response was that it was not an emergency. He therefore denied leave. I felt sorry for the student because it was probably their first baby. But that's how it was-wartime. The Major was quite strict about granting leave.

I understand he had to be that way to keep order.

That's true. However, he had his human side too.

Tell us a little bit about his human side.

In his good mood, he approached me one day and said, "Miss Kono, (he always addressed me as 'Miss Kono' and I likewise addressed him as Mr. Aiso or Major Aiso) you know I've had many secretaries (I presume they were all legal secretaries, which I was not) you're the best secretary I've ever had." I thought he was just flattering me, and I thought "Am I really living up to his expectations?" It was a privilege working under him, and I respected him through and through.

You must have done well.

Well, I tried to please him.

Now, let's move on. You remember the time the atom bomb was dropped?

Yes, that was devastating-a shocking news for everybody.

How did you hear about it? That was on a Sunday-no, it wasn't a Sunday. I am thinking about Pearl Harbor.

Let me see... the bomb. I must have been at home. I was expecting then.

Did you have a radio?

I can't recall whether I was tuned in. All I could hear was all the racket outside. I thought this must be the end of the war. There was quite a commotion outside, and bells were ringing.

The surrender came a few days later.

The A-bomb. I had no idea that they were developing such a devastating weapon, and it really shocked me.

Now, you knew they dropped it on Hiroshima.

Yes, and that's where the folks come from. I knew then that some of my relatives perished, and they did. I thought that there was no need for that because conditions in Japan were getting pretty bad by then. What weapons they had were bamboo spears to be used in the event of a land invasion. Food was scarce and the conditions were just simply terrible.

Among your relatives, are there still some suffering from the radiation of the bomb?

No, most of them are gone. Apparently conditions in Hiroshima city were getting pretty bad, so many of the children were rounded up and evacuated to an area outside the city. They were being cared for at temples or schools from what I understand. My cousin's son was among this group.

One day before the A-bomb, this child walked a long way home to Enomachi which was near the center of the city, and the Mother admonished him. Early next morning the Mother walked him out of the city, and when they reached the outskirts, that was when the bomb detonated.

They survived?

Yes, their lives were spared. However, my other cousin in Enomachi was buried under the debris but managed to free herself and crawl out. She rescued the other children in her care, carried one on her back and with the other child in tow headed for Koibashi to take refuge at her uncle's place up the river. Just as she crossed the bridge, the bridge went down. She reached her destination but eventually passed away from exposure to the radiation.

My uncle on my Mother's side was another victim. Early that fateful morning he stated out for the Hiroshima station to return to Osaka. He was never heard from since.

And then there was my dear cousin, an only child. She was among the high school students recruited to clear areas to make way for a fire lane. The last person that came across her said that the child's last words were, "I want to see my Mother!" The child perished. She met a tragic ending.

Another was my doctor cousin who happened to arrive in Hiroshima city one day before the A-bomb. He arrived on a train which was on a "trial run." Early the next morning he was out in the engawa looking up at the sky when it all happened. He managed to crawl out from under, rescue his aunt and both headed for the countryside to his father's place. His father (my uncle) had already pulled up stakes and left the city earlier. My cousin's doctor friends in Tokyo thought he had perished, but he miraculously survived.

Now the bomb was dropped in August of 1945. When was it that you visited Hiroshima?

It was in 1948. Soon after I arrived in Japan to join Tak (my husband), I told him that I was deeply concerned about my relatives in Hiroshima. I had no idea as to what had happened to them-who had survived or who had perished-and I felt that I should visit them to see how they were faring. At first Tak was reluctant to go, but did consent later on to accompany us (me and our daughter) to Hiroshima. When we arrived on the Allied train, many of my relatives were at the station to greet us. It was quite an emotional reunion. I was so happy to see them again after eight long years, but saddened to learn that several of my relatives had met a tragic ending. All around us as far as the eye could see was destruction and devastation-the aftermath of the bombing and the burning inferno. My doctor cousin invited us to stay with him in temporary housing, and the following morning invited us to visit some of his patients at the Red Cross Hospital where the survivors were hospitalized and being cared for. The windows of the hospital were all knocked out from the blast, and the hospital was in ill-repair. He took us upstairs, and I saw first hand the survivors of the A-bomb with ghastly burns on their backs, arms, legs, face, etc. I felt queasy and I told him, "I've seen enough. You'll have to excuse me. I want to go home!" I had actually seen first hand the effects of radiation and the suffering and agony of the survivors.

O.K. That's fine now. All that time Masami was in Japan. You must have been concerned about him and likewise he must have been concerned about you. How did you know he was O.K.?

Why, of course. When we docked in Yokohama in November of 1947, Masami and his family were waiting at the pier. I could hardly recognize him for he had lost so much weight-his clothes were literally hanging on him. You probably remember him as being quite athletic. I was really taken aback and realized he had suffered through the bombings, food shortage, etc. I had some candy to offer and two hard-boiled eggs from breakfast that I had saved for my niece. She was so happy to receive what little I had to offer them.

When was that? In 1946 or 1947?

It was in 1947.

That was the first time you saw Masami, and he brought his little daughter?

Yes.

What was your feeling?

The meeting was quite emotional. I was so happy to see my brother alive and to meet his lovely family for the first time.

How did he survive?

The meeting was quite emotional. I was so happy to see my brother alive and to meet his lovely family for the first time.

How did he survive?

He was bombed out many times, but miraculously managed to live through it.

How did he eke out a living?

Well, my uncle (a retired doctor) was living in Tokyo at the time. He was the one that had a hospital in Manchuria and retired in 1939 when he had to undergo a major operation. He was very well off, so he made sure that my brother was taken care of. Otherwise brother would have had a hard time. Of course, the folks eventually repaid my uncle.

In his last correspondence to me, which was just prior to he war, Masami wrote to me saying that something was going to happen soon, and I should send money right away. I was working then, so I sent all I could spare, but beyond that he had to rely on my uncle for financial support to sustain him. There were all tuition, lodgings, meals to be paid.

So does that mean Masami was living in...

In Tokyo. In the meantime he sent his family to Iwate ken to escape the bombings.

Well, now I'd like to talk a little bit about the Occupation period. What impressed you about Japan and the Japanese people at that time?

All around was destruction and devastation-vast areas leveled. Between Yokohama and Tokyo people were living in "lean-to's." There were no more air raids and running into bomb shelters, and I am sure they were relieved that the war had come to an end. I was impressed with the way the people were making the best of the situation with what they had, eking out a living somehow. I admired them for their ambitious, enterprising nature-pulling themselves up by the bootstraps.

Have you visited Japan after that?

Yes, many times. In fact we just returned from Kobe where we went as official delegates to the 40th anniversary celebration of the sister city relationship between Seattle and Kobe. That was in November of 1997.

They have a bridge there in Kobe?

Yes. The new Akashi bridge, which spans Kobe and Awajishima, is the longest suspension bridge in the world. We got a closer view of the bridge when we were taken on a boat tour. One of the questions I asked of the engineer was "What happened to the bridge when the earthquake struck?" The engineer's response was that he was not able to come from Osaka for two days, and when he did come to inspect the bridge for any damages, he noticed that it had stretched by a couple of yards. This bridge officially opened for traffic in April of 1998.

Now we are getting back to 1946-1947 again. Could you imagine in 1947 that fifty years later in 1997 that Kobe (one of the most bombed out places), Hiroshima, and the Yokohama-Tokyo area that you remembered would ever recover? Tell us about that.

There was no doubt in my mind that the bombed-out areas would emerge quickly from the rubbles and ravages of war. It's really amazing and almost inconceivable when you see the transformation that took place. Tokyo, for instance, is now a jungle of high rises-office buildings, condominiums, apartment buildings, multi-storied department stores, etc. You run into a sea of humanity wherever you go. People are well dressed and better off than we are. Just look at the high speed rail system. Hiroshima likewise, with the reconstruction et al has taken on a completely new look. You could hardly recognize the city from the way it is laid out except for a few landmarks. There is no trace of the aftermath of the A-bomb, except for a few landmarks. There is no trace of the aftermath of the A-bomb, except for the A-bomb dome (the Industrial Promotion Hall), the Memorial, and Museum. The atomic dome was left standing as it was in all its gruesomeness as a terrible reminder. Hiroshima is now a city with a population of three times of what it was before the bombing.

Kobe has had its share of bombings and natural disasters. Most recently the big earthquake and fire brought everything to a standstill, but it's surprising the speed in which reconstruction took place. Some vacant lots still exist, and this is where the landowners cannot afford to rebuild. These are being used as parking lots for the time being. There are homeless people, mostly the elderly, who are being housed in temporary shelters that look more like lockers. I was told that the units were comprised of a living room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom facilities. The occupants' main complaint was that it was too hot in summer and cold in winter. When I think of it, their accommodations were far superior to our accommodations in the concentration camp.

Now you're describing the facilities that were built after the Kobe earthquake.

Yes.

I want you to think back in 1947 when you saw all the devastation in Japan, and can you imagine they've come back as well as you saw them last year?

Well, it's been many years since 1947. I really think the recovery has been phenomenal.

Did you see the memorial in Hiroshima?

Yes, indeed.

And the museum?

The exhibits are so gruesome to see that it makes me shudder and avert my eyes. And I've seen it twice, and I can pass it the third time. It really sickens me.

Yes, I was gonna ask you after all this bombing and so on, we human beings apparently never learn. We keep repeating mistakes over and over again. What have we learned in the last fifty or sixty years?

That the A-bomb is such a terrible weapon that is destructive enough to annihilate a whole nation. My feeling is that with all the destruction and suffering and misery it can cause, it should never again be used during this generation or in future generations.

The next question is you must have been some kind of philosophy of life. Did you have any thoughts that guided you through all these turmoil you've been through?

Actually, you have to be strong, very strong, be courageous and tolerant. The years of incarceration in the concentration camp must have hardened me, and I was better able to cope with adversity, come what may, during the war and its aftermath. I looked at the change, though difficult at times, as an opportunity to heighten my horizons. My philosophy was to be optimistic, take things in stride, and have a positive attitude towards life and its shortcomings, to bear with equanimity the misfortunes of others and give a lending hand where needed. There is nothing like deriving self-satisfaction and joy in doing what you want to do and believe in.

To elaborate further on Mr. Aiso's illustrious career, I'd like to mention that on November 3, 1984 he was conferred the Third Class Order of the Rising Sun from the Japanese government for his outstanding record of personal achievement and public service as well as for promoting a better relationship between Japan and the United States. This award was the highest ever bestowed upon a Japanese American at that time.

I'm glad you brought it up.

His sudden and untimely death on December 29, 1987 was a loss of major magnitude to countless friends in whose hearts his memory lingers on. Judge Aiso's cause of death was a cruel irony for a person who had worked so hard daily to uphold justice and had done so much to stop crime. How ironic and tragic that he who had striven to stop crime should die as a victim of crime!

Tell me the circumstances as you understand.

I was told that it all happened on his way home from a church meeting when he stopped by at a self-service gas station to gas up. As he was refueling, a mugger approached him from the back and hit him on the head. He fell and remained in a coma until he expired. I do not know whether they ever caught the mugger. Do you happen to know?

No, I haven't heard. Now, he ended up a judge down there?

Yes. Following his military service, he resumed his law practice in Los Angeles. In September of 1952 he was appointed Commissioner of the Los Angeles Superior Court. The following year he broke racial barriers to become the first Nisei in the continental United States to be appointed to a judgeship at the Los Angeles Municipal Court of the Los Angeles Judicial District. He rose up the career ladder which included appointments to the Superior Court, Chief Judge of the Appellate Department, and finally Associate Justice of the California courts until his retirement on December 31, 1972. Upon retirement, he was invited to join a prestigious law firm in Los Angeles as Special Counsel and served in that capacity for more than ten years, and finally retired in February 1984. Such was his distinguished judicial career.

Good. I want to get with the resettlement. Why did you and your husband decide to live here in Seattle because your background is in San Francisco?

This is a sort of reverse in my case. Most husbands are drawn to where their wives come from. I might back tract at this point. Tak was in his last quarter at the University of Washington and ready to graduate when he was drafted into the U.S. Army; in fact, his picture appeared in the TYEE to graduate. He requested for further deferment but that was denied. His last tour of duty was with the Occupation forces in Japan.

In August of 1950, he decided to return to the University of Washington to complete his requirements for graduation, since he had to enroll by September 1950 to graduate under the old requirements, which he did. Soon thereafter, what do you know, but Tak received "walking papers" from Uncle Sam. However, he was being called up under the California quota-not Washington-so he did not have to don his uniform again. He was in post graduate work when he was offered a job with a worldwide import-export company, so that was the reason why we settled in this area.

And you stayed here ever since?

Yes. I miss San Francisco and the Bay area, but the Evergreen state has lots to offer. There are so many things to see and do in and around Seattle-indoor and outdoor recreation, spectator sports, community events, cultural attractions, higher education, etc. The scenery is beautiful and breathtaking-the Olympic and the Cascades, Mount Rainier, the lakes, etc.

Now, how many children do you and Tak have?

Two-a boy and a girl.

How about grandchildren?

Five in all.

You see them often?

Often enough.

They probably like to come and see grandmother.

That's right.

O.K. We've come to the end, Mitzi. Is there one last thought that you'd like to leave with us?

At the risk of repetition, Mr. Aiso was absolutely without equal, and I shall long remember him as the most intellectual and dedicated person who had admirably shouldered the great responsibilities of World War II, and one whom I was indeed proud to know and serve under. He was a distinguished and gifted person who touched the lives of so many and was an inspiration to all generations of Nikkei. He was a great Nisei leader and a real good role model.

Mr. Aiso's parents, as I mentioned earlier, stressed education. Education is a lifelong experience, and I feel is an absolute "must." It is one thing that you can get for yourself, and no one can take it away from you.

Another thought that comes to my mind-the Isseis endured much adversity for the benefit of their children. We should never ever forget that. The mainland Japanese faced blatant racial hatred and discrimination and felt consequences of racism in a far worse oppressive way. Then with the outbreak of World War II, there was increased discord racially and politically. War years of the 40's are bittersweet memories now, and the painful memories of incarceration in concentration camps have dimmed and receded into the background. The wartime sacrifices are difficult to fathom unless you had experienced it yourself. Executive Order 9066 was a travesty of American justice and Constitutional guarantees, and I feel that the ostensible reason for the exclusion order was totally unnecessary and unjustified, but I suppose it had to be carried out because of war hysteria. I sincerely hope that mass evacuation and incarceration will never again be repeated for any ethnic group.

Also, knowing now the destructive force of the A-bomb dropped on Hiroshima and what it could do to a whole population, I feel that this weapon should be outlawed and never again be used by any nation.

That's wonderful.

I'd like to add that the MIS Northwest Association published a booklet entitled "Unsung Heroes" in November of 1996 which is a compilation of the panel discussion material from our MIS National Reunion in 1995, which we hosted. I worked real hard over a period of one year doing most of the editing. For anyone interested, it covers the history of the Military Intelligence Service Language School and the heroic exploits of the MIS linguists during World War II and the Occupation of Japan.

It's wonderful, Mitsue, and thank you very much for spending time with us. It's been a wonderful interview, and we enjoyed it and I hope you enjoyed it too.

I enjoyed it very, very much.

Oh, that's wonderful. Thanks a lot.

You're welcome.