“Where will I hide it?” I asked.
“In your chamber pot,” Soo-hee said. “No one will find it there. Put it there now.”
I slid the comb inside my yukata and went to my room. I did as Soo-hee said and dropped it inside my chamber pot.
*
We waited in the courtyard exchanging nervous glances. Then, Lieutenant Tanaka walked in with his shinai at his side. Private Ishida grabbed his rifle and stood straight. The Japanese women continued to lounge on their steps. Now that the sun had set, it was cooling quickly. There was no breeze and I could hear the rumble of trucks in the village. We huddled close except for Sun-hi who stood off to the side and stared at the ground.
With his shinai, Lieutenant Tanaka pointed at the yellow dirt in front of him. He ordered us to form a line and stand straight with our hands at our sides. He said we were not to talk. “The officers are coming,” he said.
I heard voices and the laughter of men from behind the barracks. The voices grew louder and a group of men entered the courtyard led by a man a half head taller than the rest. I had seen Japanese senior officers before, but never anyone like him. He had square shoulders, smooth skin, and a strong chin. Just by the sight of him, I feared him like I’d never feared anyone before.
“Attention!” Lieutenant Tanaka barked. He and Private Ishida snapped to attention. The Japanese women stayed seated on their steps.
The square-shouldered officer approached Lieutenant Tanaka. “Lieutenant, I see we have new girls,” he said.
“Yes, Colonel,” Lieutenant Tanaka said crisply and with a slight bow. “One was disrespectful and had to be disciplined. She is in the infirmary. The doctor reports all the rest are virgins except the one at the end.” He pointed at Sun-hi.
“Let’s take a look,” the Colonel said. With his hands behind his back, he slowly examined each one of us. He stopped at me. I bowed my head low and looked at his feet. His boots were polished, clean and tied tight. Under my yukata, my knees shook.
“This is a young one,” he said. “Is she clean, Lieutenant?”
“Yes sir. She is the youngest. Her name is Namiko Iwata.”
The Colonel lifted my chin with a finger and examined my face from side-to-side. The shaking in my knees spread to my legs. The courtyard spun around me and thought I would faint. “You have a pretty face, Namiko Iwata,” he said, his eyes fixed on me. “Pretty and delicate, like an aristocrat.”
He turned to Lieutenant Tanaka and said, “This one.”
T EN
August 2008, Seoul, South Korea
“He raped me,” my birth-grandmother says, glaring at me from across her table. I want to look away but I don’t dare. “They took me to his quarters where he raped me. I was fourteen years old. I didn’t know what sex was. I had only been menstruating for five months. Five months! How could I know? How could I know?”
“You couldn’t possibly,” I say. It’s hot and humid inside the apartment. I need to fan myself, but I don’t dare. Not now. Not with Mrs. Hong reliving her horrible rape. The agony of it is written on her face and is deep in her eyes.
“He raped me in the cruelest way,” she continues. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you must know. First, he told me to take off my clothes in front of him while he watched. I wanted to say no, but I had just seen how they’d beaten Jin-sook. I was terrified so I did what he said. I stood there naked and helpless like a baby. I shook with fear. Then he made me undress him. I had to start with his boots—those polished, clean boots that he tied so tight. I had to unbutton his shirt, then his trousers. He made me kneel and take off his undergarments as he stood over me, naked. He told me to look at him. He thought I would be impressed. I had never seen a naked man before. I had only imagined what they were like. I desperately wanted to run away, back to the hills behind our farm where Soo-hee and I used to run in the aspen trees.”
She locks her hands into a single fist and places them on top of the table. Her eyes never leave me. “Then he touched me. Everywhere. He ran his hands over my hair, my face, my neck, my breasts, my stomach, my legs, my genitals. He pushed me down and forced himself inside me. He pierced me and made me bleed. He pushed over and over again. Each thrust hurt more than the previous one. I cannot describe the pain. It was worse than pain. It was pain and terror and humiliation and shame all together. I wanted to die. I tried to resist but when I did, he just laughed at me. He was a strong man. I was a girl. And he was the Japanese Colonel.”
She clenches her fingers so hard I think they might break. The pain on her face never eases. She continues. “But what made the Colonel so cruel was that as he raped me he made me stare into his eyes. When I shut them, he ordered me to keep them open. ‘Look at me, girl,’ he ordered. ‘Keep your eyes open and look at me!’ So I looked into his eyes as he raped me. Can you imagine how humiliating that was? Can you?”
“No, ma’am,” I answer, “I can’t.”
“He did not use a condom,” she says. “He didn’t have to. I was a virgin and he was the first to rape me. So, when he orgasmed I felt his slime crawl inside every cell of my body like maggots. I could feel it spoil me, turn me rotten. And I knew he would always be in me. Always.
“Do you know what the worst part of it was?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, “I don’t.”
“The worst part is I thought it was my fault. I had always been so proud and stubborn and sure of myself. But when the Colonel raped me, I lost everything. I could only think of my grandparents, my mother and father and Soo-hee. I was overcome with shame but I did nothing wrong, nothing wrong. It doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“No,” I answer, “it doesn’t make any sense at all.”
She places her hands in two curves on the low table and turns to the purple flower in the glass bowl. “Do you know what I did when it was over, when he was done with me and told me to leave?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I bowed and thanked him,” she says in a whisper. “I don’t know why I did that. I wanted to spit on him, scream at him, tell him how much I hated him and all the Japanese. But I had to do the right thing, like Mother said. So I thanked him. It seemed to please him that I did.”
We’re silent for a long time. My birth-grandmother, who earlier was so proud, now looks completely humiliated. I don’t know what to say. I’d never met anyone who’d been raped before. I never even got close to it. Of course, sometimes I get nervous when I’m alone on the street at night or when there’s a sketchy-looking guy in a hallway. But I never knew how devastating rape could be. Until now.
Eventually, the pain in her face goes away and she straightens up. “Would you like some bori cha, Ja-young?” she asks.
“Bori cha? You mentioned it in your story. I don’t know what it is.”
She frowns. “Americans think all Koreans drink the same tea as the Chinese and Japanese. However many traditional Koreans, like me, prefer bori cha. It is roasted barley tea. You must have some.”
“Sure,” I say. “Thank you.”
She puts a pot on the stove and tosses in a handful of what looks like black tea. She takes two cups from the cupboard and brings them to the table. She moves gracefully in her hanbok. “I like my bori cha strong,” she says. “That is the way we used to drink it when I was a girl. It has become fashionable for our young people to drink coffee like the Americans. I don’t like coffee. It isn’t Korean and I am afraid I’m a traditionalist. I think Korea needs to hold on to its traditions, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“What do you know about our traditions, Ja-young?”
“Not much, I guess,” I confess.
“You should know more about Korea. Yes, you were raised in America. But an important part of you is here,” she says, tapping a finger on the table. “You cannot escape it.”
I can’t escape it? I’m not sure I want it. I’d rather be just an American, like my friends and family. But when I’m alone in my room and look in the mirror, I s
ee someone different. The woman in the mirror is Korean. It’s in her face, her eyes, and her hair. Maybe it’s in her blood, too.
The teapot starts whistling and she gets it from the stove. She pours the tea through a strainer into our cups. The aroma fills the room. I take a sip and it’s really strong and bitter. It isn’t anything like the weak tea served on our tour. As I drink it, I feel cooler and more relaxed.
“Tell me, what do you think of my story so far?” Mrs. Hong asks over the top of her cup.
“It’s… horrible,” I say. Outside, the wind is blowing sending a breeze through the window. It gives some relief from the heat—or maybe it’s the bori cha.
She stares at me. I sense that she’s sizing me up to see if she’s made the right decision to give me the comb. I don’t want to disappoint her so I say, “Go on, please. Tell me the rest of your story.”
She smiles but her eyes turn hard. “I have only just begun!” she says. She puts her cup on the table and her hands in her lap.
She continues. “The day after the Colonel raped me, the troops came, and I quickly learned what to do. I had become an ianfu—a comfort woman. I learned a trick, too. I examined the men’s boots before they raped me. As I said, the Colonel had his boots tied tight. It was a warning sign. His type of cruelty was the worst. It was psychological as well as physical. After that, whenever I saw someone with boots tied tight, I knew I would be humiliated.
“But there were many others. A soldier with dirty, untied boots would be careless and quick. A soldier who kept his boots on would often hurt me. If his boots were clean and polished, it would be someone who wanted me to pretend I was enjoying him.
“Examining their boots was just something I did. But knowing what was going to happen to me did not help. In fact, it made it worse. It was like a torturer telling you what he was going to do to you next. By looking at their boots, I knew how they would rape me.
“And,” she says, “I was raped thousands of times.”
E LEVEN
August 1945. Dongfeng, Manchuria
When the soldier with the dirty, untied boots left my room, there was only one more waiting at my step. There was always a long line at my door before the soldiers went off to their maneuvers. Kempei told us the soldiers needed to purge themselves so if they died in battle, they could enter the afterlife pure. “You’re doing a great service for these men,” he said. “And for Japan and for the Emperor.”
I had been serving Japan and the Emperor nonstop since midday and it was now early evening. Even with the six new Korean girls Lieutenant Tanaka had brought in, my line was always the longest. At ten minutes apiece—the soldiers’ allotted time—I had serviced over thirty men that day. I was sore and exhausted and had to force myself to serve one more soldier.
That man was Corporal Kaori. He was a big man and he liked to hurt me. He always said he wanted to be the last in line so no one would rush him. But I knew it was because being last, he could do what he wanted to me.
When Kaori entered my room, I saw he had his boots tied tight and that there was a hardness in his eyes. I knew I had to be careful.
As Corporal Kaori unbuttoned his trousers, I washed off the condom the last soldier used. I bowed as I gave the cleaned condom to the corporal. I lay back and opened my yukata. My tiny room was hot and humid and reeked of sweat and semen. My sweat dripped into my bedding, already drenched from the sweat of dozens of men. The foul bedding clung to my back. Kaori pulled down his trousers without taking off his boots. He pulled his large penis through his underwear and I stroked it to get it stiff. It wasn’t working.
“Faster, girl,” he ordered. “Don’t you know how I like it?” He pulled my hair, sending spikes of pain into my scalp.
I knew what I had to do to get him going. “Come on, big man,” I hissed. “Hurt me some more.”
His eyes flashed excitement and he slapped me hard.
“Yes, that’s right,” I said clenching my jaw. “It’s what you want.” I stroked him faster and his huge penis grew. He fumbled with the condom. I took it from him and put it on. He mounted me and tried to push inside me, but he wasn’t stiff enough.
“Pinch me,” I said. He pinched my nipples hard and slapped me again. My eyes filled with tears. I continued to stroke him. He grew stiff and finally was able to push inside me. His bulk overwhelmed me and my body jerked with each of his thrusts. He slapped me again and put his hand around my throat. His eyes grew wide and he grinned lasciviously.
He was choking me. Hard. I gasped and could feel my face turn red. I tried to tell him to let go, but I couldn’t push the words past his grip. I grabbed his arm and squirmed but his weight kept me pinned to the mat and my struggles only aroused him more. I saw stars and everything started to go dark. Then with a convulsion that banged my head in the wall, he was done. He released his hand from my neck and climbed off of me. I turned to the side and coughed. I took in air in big gulps. Eventually the stars went away. I clung to the wall and forced myself to stand in the corner.
Kaori removed his condom and dropped it inside my chamber pot. As he pulled up his trousers, I bowed and said a weak thank you. The corporal grunted and left my room.
I clutched the clothes hook on the back of the door to keep myself from collapsing. It took several minutes until I could breathe normally again. Then I picked up my obi and looked at the clothes hook. I admit I thought about doing it. One end of the obi around the clothes hook, the other around my neck. After all, Sun-hi had done it not more than a week after we arrived at the comfort station. She had tied the knots, relaxed her legs, and let herself go. It must have taken great strength for Sun-hi to let herself hang until her obi choked the life from her. I wondered if I could do it, too.
I let go of the clothes hook. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and rubbed the pain from my neck. I wrapped myself in my yukata and tied it closed with my obi. I reached inside my chamber pot and among the used condoms and semen, I felt for the comb with the two-headed dragon. I took it out and wiped it clean on my bedding. I looked at the two-headed dragon. Mother had said that it would protect us. I was keeping it hidden from the Japanese but so far, it had not protected me from anything.
I slipped the comb under my mat and gathered the sweat-soaked bedding. I picked up the chamber pot and headed out the door. Outside the sun was bright. It was hot and the sky was hazy blue. Swarms of big black flies buzzed around the barracks. In the courtyard, the slick mud of spring had turned hard from the sun and the boots of thousands of men.
Seiko and the other Japanese geishas were lounging on their steps fanning themselves when I walked by. “You have another night with the Colonel,” Seiko said to me. “I don’t know why he wants a Korean whore like you when he could have a good Japanese geisha like me. He must like the way you use your stone face on him.” The other Japanese women laughed without covering their mouths.
I blushed at Seiko’s taunting. The Colonel had only forced me to do that once. He had just returned from visiting his family in Japan and was upset about something. I never found out what it was. After I undressed him like I always did, he pushed my face into him. I fought back but he was so strong, and I was afraid he would break my neck. So I did it. I had to.
Afterward, the Colonel had turned quiet almost as if he was ashamed. When I rose to leave, he asked me to stay. That was the first time I stayed the entire night with the Colonel. Since then, we spent more time talking than having sex. He gave me Japanese books to read during the long breaks when the soldiers were away. I think the other ianfu and the geishas were jealous of me.
As I walked back to my room, Private Ishida was resting in the shade. He nodded to me and I returned a small bow. I liked the private. He only used the geishas for himself and warned the Korean girls when the kempei was coming. He always carried his rifle, but I was sure he had never used it.
When I got to the latrine, I emptied my chamber pot and rinsed it out. I washed my hands. In the room next to the latrine, I left
my bedding on the pile of dirty laundry and took a clean set. I headed back to the barracks. Seiko and the other Japanese women glared at me. I made sure to keep my eyes low. When I got to my room, I set the chamber pot at the foot of my mat and spread the clean bedding so it would be ready for the next day. I retrieved the comb from under my mat and dropped it inside my chamber pot.
*
I went to the latrine to wash before dinner. The latrine was an open outhouse fifty feet behind the barracks. There was a wooden deck with three holes for the girls to squat over. To the side, on wooden frames, were three chipped and stained ceramic washbasins. Soo-hee, dressed in her yellow yukata, was washing laundry at a basin. I went to the basin next to her.
“I think Kaori will kill me someday,” I said, staring into the washbasin.
“I will talk to the kempei about him again,” Soo-hee said.
“No don’t,” I said quickly remembering the times Soo-hee had been punched for asking the kempei for something. “It is not so bad.” I began to wash in the gray water.
“I hear the war is going badly for the Japanese,” Soo-hee said. “The Americans are winning in the east. Maybe it will all end soon.”
“Then what will we do?” I asked.
“We will go home.” Soo-hee said.
“I do not want to go home after what we’ve done here,” I said, “What will Mother and Father think? We have dishonored them.”
Soo-hee put a hand on my arm. “Don’t worry about what Mother and Father will think. You just need to stay strong a little while longer.”
Stay strong? What for? So I could be raped another day? Growing up on the farm, I thought I was strong. I could work all day in the fields alongside Father and Mother and Soo-hee and go days without a full meal when the rice was low. But for the past two years, the effort to make it through each day took everything out of me. I was nothing more than a toilet to the Japanese, and that’s exactly how I saw myself. I was doing my best to stay strong, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could.
Daughters of the Dragon: A Comfort Woman's Story Page 6
