The Purple Heart

by Vincent Yee

  When the medics arrived, they unsuccessfully tried to pry Hiroshi’s arms from around Kenji. Akira yelled at the medics to leave Hiroshi alone. It was unexpected, but Akira was actually protecting Hiroshi. In that odd moment, he expressed a sense of loyalty that only a soldier could express to another: Allowing a fellow soldier to mourn the death of one of their own in their own way. Peter sat silently but did nothing to rush Hiroshi as he slowly rocked Kenji’s body back and forth. When Hiroshi finally let go, his arms and his entire uniform were drenched in Kenji’s blood. The amount of blood that had seeped out of Kenji was incredible.

  Hiroshi carried Kenji’s body all the way back to the staging point and handed Kenji over to the medics. He told them that Kenji’s older brother was in the other company and that he should be notified immediately.

  But he was soon to learn that Kenji’s older brother was also killed that very day. Their parents would be devastated to learn that both of their sons were now gone forever.

  Later that night, Hiroshi, Peter, and Akira were dug in along a ridge with the rest of the soldiers. They had a small fire going as embers drifted away into the dark night. Their sleeping mats were rolled out as artillery fire could be heard off in the distance like low thunder. Other soldiers had set up their own little camps along the ridge as well, and light chatter could be heard like orphaned whispers in the wind.

  Hiroshi was sitting up against a tree with his knees pulled up to his chest. He couldn’t eat as he brooded over Kenji’s death. Peter was sitting by the fire, staring into the dancing orange and reddish flames, mesmerized by their silent requiem. Akira had his back turned to the two of them and stared off into the darkness that lay over the hills as he smoked a cigarette.

  The silence was finally broken when Akira spoke up, “He was a good kid.”

  No one responded.

  “It’s a real shame that his brother was also killed,” said Akira.

  Again, another round of silence hung in the air as the fire crackled.

  Akira let out another stream of smoke from his mouth and then turned his head toward Hiroshi. “At least I won’t have to hear him say ‘Home Run’ anymore.”

  Hiroshi looked up and responded tersely, “What do you mean by that?”

  Akira was silent for a moment and then just turned away.

  “Hey! I’m talking to you!” yelled Hiroshi.

  Akira turned his head back, “Nothing, just forget I said that. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “No, I’m not going to leave anything! Kenji’s dead, so I’m asking for him, what did you mean by that?”

  Akira just gave Hiroshi an annoyed look and shook his head back and forth as he turned away from Hiroshi. He brought the cigarette back to his mouth and took a drag on it when Hiroshi shoved him from behind causing him to swallow the smoke. Akira flew forward onto his stomach as he violently coughed up puffs of smoke as Hiroshi stood over him with burning eyes.

  Peter quickly got up and placed his left arm in front of Hiroshi. He was no match for Hiroshi, but he had to appeal to his sense of reason.

  “Hiroshi! Stop it man, we’re all upset about Kenji. Sometimes we don’t say the right things when we’re upset,” said Peter.

  Hiroshi looked down at Peter and gave in to Peter’s good sense when Akira lunged and wrapped his strong arms around Hiroshi’s waist. Hiroshi was sent backwards with Akira right on top of him. Before Hiroshi could prevent it, Akira struck Hiroshi across his left cheek.

  “Don’t you ever do that again!” warned Akira.

  Hiroshi turned his head back and there was rage in Hiroshi’s eyes as the fire glistened faintly in his pupils. Akira was about to punch Hiroshi again when Hiroshi brought his left leg around and wrapped it around Akira’s chest and pulled him off of him sending Akira backwards. Hiroshi stood up when suddenly Peter intervened again and held his hand up at Akira who stood up as well.

  “What are you guys doing? We’re not supposed to be fighting each other!” Peter yelled as he glared at each of them.

  Hiroshi and Akira were standing in offensive stances and looked ready to kill one another. They stared each other down in those tense moments when Peter spoke again.

  “Stop it! The two of you! Kenji would not have wanted this!” exclaimed Peter.

  Peter was right. Kenji would not have wanted to see Hiroshi, his hero, fighting Akira no matter how rude or foul-mannered he was. Hiroshi relaxed and let his shoulders drop as he diverted his gaze from Akira and looked downward. Akira also relented and spun around as he let out a heavy sigh of deep frustration. He then turned around once more and spoke.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry, Hiroshi. I didn’t mean that. I just feel for the kid and me and my big mouth fucked it up again.”

  “I overreacted. It’s my fault too. I just needed someone to take it out on and you were just asking for it.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence until Akira asked, “I guess I should be fucking flattered?”

  Hiroshi let out a chuckle and said, “Yeah, take it any way you want to. I’m sorry, man.” Hiroshi extended his hand out to Akira.

  Akira gave out a sigh, stepped forward and took Hiroshi’s hand and stepped in to give Hiroshi a solid hug as he patted Hiroshi’s back with his clenched fist. That’s when Peter looked over at them with one eyebrow raised and said, “Uh, I’m not quite sure how Kenji would react to seeing what I’m seeing right now guys.”

  Akira and Hiroshi stepped back away from one another and looked at Peter. They both laughed and pulled Peter in for a manly hug as they dug their knuckles into Peter’s ribs.

  The three men soon found themselves sitting around the fire, letting the warmth brew in front of them.

  “So, what was Kenji like back at the camp?” asked Peter.

  “Hmm… well you saw how he was when he first came to Camp Shelby. He was a skinny lanky kid who was always joking around. A bit clumsy, but he was fun to have around.” Hiroshi chuckled and added, “And he especially liked flirting with the girls. Always found something funny to say, or maybe he just said a lot of stupid things.”

  “Yeah, ever notice how he always didn’t know what was going on?” said Akira.

  The men let out a laugh as they agreed with one another.

  “But he was a smart kid, though. Fast and really hyper,” said Akira.

  “Those were the good old days. What I wouldn’t do to be twenty all over again,” said Peter.

  “Lots of twenty-year-olds and younger in the 442nd,” said Akira with a hint of resentment.

  “I was supposed to watch out for him,” said Hiroshi.

  There was a moment of silence until Peter responded, “You can’t blame yourself, Hiroshi. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Hiroshi didn’t answer.

  “Yeah Hiroshi, Peter’s right. It wasn’t your fault,” said Akira as he tossed a twig into the flames. “He’s a casualty of war.”

  “He’s not a casualty of war!” exclaimed Hiroshi but quickly added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

  “No problem,” said Akira as he stared into the flames.

  “I just thought I could protect him. Place him behind me away from all the danger,” said Hiroshi. “He had a whole life in front of him but when he died, all he wanted me to do was to tell Miho how cute she is.”

  “Miho, that’s your wife’s sister?” asked Peter. “If Miho is half as good looking as your wife, then I don’t blame him for saying that.”

  “Hell if I’m going to die, I would want a pretty girl in my mind for my last thought!” said Akira.

  The men let out a laugh. Hiroshi immediately thought of Minami as Peter thought of his girlfriend Noriko.

  “So how about you, Akira. You never mentioned if you had a girl back home,” asked Hiroshi.

  Akira stirred the dirt in the ground and flicked it toward the fire. “No, there isn’t any girl for me. I’m not the steady boyfriend type, if you couldn’t already tell.”

  “No really?” said Peter sar
castically.

  Akira flicked some dirt in Peter’s direction and the men laughed once more.

  “Hey did you guys hear about the 100th?” asked Akira.

  “No what did you hear?” asked Peter.

  “Seems like when we arrived here in Italy, it wasn’t none too soon. The 100th was down to about 530 men and that was after we had already sent about 500 men out of Camp Shelby.”

  “530 men? That’s all that was left of them when we arrived? Didn’t they start off with like 1,000 men or something?”

  “Fuck yes, seems like the army have been using us Japanese Americans like cannon fodder, as if we’re fucking expendable or something. Did you hear about Cassino?” asked Akira.

  Hiroshi looked up as Peter replied, “Sure, about how they almost took the entire position themselves?”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t hear that the general sent in the 100th without any support and let them fight non-stop for days even though they were taking heavy losses. Do you fucking think they would let a white battalion endure that much loss? And when the dumbass general conceded that the position couldn’t be taken, he pulled back the 100th. They later took Cassino with five fresh divisions and an aerial bombardment.”

  Akira’s frustrated tone set in and he continued. “Have you noticed they’ve worked us nonstop and given us all the shit jobs? The ones that are too dangerous for the white regiments. Damn, I thought I was coming over here to fight a war, not to be sacrificed because the white man couldn’t face the problem.”

  “You don’t really think that, do you?” asked Peter.

  “Hell yeah, I do! Did you know that battalions that suffer extensive losses are usually pulled back to preserve them? How can you explain the 100th losing more than 50 percent of their troops? Twice! That’s not preserving them, that’s sacrificing them, and it’s all because we’re Japanese. Yeah, they feel that while they are killing the Japanese over in the Pacific, why not kill the Japanese Americans too while they fight for America? Fuck, one less Jap the better,” said Akira vociferously.

  “It’s not true,” said Hiroshi. “We just fight harder because we’re also trying to prove that we’re Americans so that our families can be free at home. We have more to fight for.”

  Akira rolled his eyes and then settled them back down onto Hiroshi. “Wake up man! The white generals don’t care. We can fight as hard as we want but as long as we fight the white man’s battles without sacrificing their fine white boys, they’ll be happy. Shit, we Japanese Americans are sometimes really dumb. We volunteered to fight the white man’s war, a war that they didn’t even want. And the fucking ironic thing is that it took the Japanese to get the white man in America to fight. How fucking ironic!”

  “Whatever, Akira. There’s nothing that we can do about it. We just have to do the best we can and stay alive,” said Hiroshi.

  “Yeah, I’ll agree with you about staying alive,” replied Akira. “But no matter how you look at it, we’re fucked and it’s only the beginning of the worse.”

  A silence fell over the three as they looked into the fire. There was a dark foreboding to Akira’s words. Akira wasn’t alone. There had been such talk throughout the 442nd ever since the 100th was attached to them. But Akira voiced the concerns of many whom may have been hesitant to speak up about what seemed to be the callous deployment of the 442nd against enemy positions that should have required more military support.

  “I’m going to hit the sack. Who knows what mission we will be in next,” said Akira as he got up. He tossed the twig that he was twiddling with into the fire and walked over to his sleeping mat.

  “Good night,” said Peter quietly. “I’m going to sleep too. I’ll see you in the morning, Hiroshi.”

  “Sure thing,” said Hiroshi as he watched Peter get up and turn away toward his sleeping mat.

  Hiroshi continued to watch the fire as he pondered what Akira said. Maybe if his company had been sent into Sesseta with more support, Kenji would be alive. But that was merely assigning blame. Kenji was gone, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

  Hiroshi rose up, walked quietly over to his sleeping mat, and pulled up his knapsack. He rummaged inside, pulled out a small notepad, and settled by the fire. He placed the notepad on his knee and gathered his thoughts. He only had the chance to write one letter since arriving on the front line, and he wasn’t even sure if Minami had received it yet. But instead of waiting for a response, he decided to write another letter. He had to.

  Dearest Minami,

  I’m here in Italy now, driving the Nazis up north. It’s a tough campaign, but we Japanese Americans are showing everyone that we are great soldiers. We’ve been pretty successful, and if we continue to do this well, we’ll win the war yet and I’ll be home soon.

  I’m writing to you right now by a small fire here in the dark. It’s not cold, it’s actually quite warm and we’re far away from any Nazi positions. We’re liberating these small Italian towns along the western coast.

  But I need to write to you because I have something to tell you. It’s bad news. Kenji is dead.

  I should have checked, but we entered this building. I thought all the Nazi soldiers were dead. But one of them was still alive. He shot Kenji. I couldn’t save him. I held him so tightly in my arms, hoping that he would come back to life, but he never did. I don’t know why, but I blame myself. Kenji was like the little brother I never had, and I should have been able to protect him.

  That’s not the worst of it. I tried to send word to his older brother but learned that he too had also been killed. The Yasudas will be so hurt by this news. But tell them that their sons fought bravely. Tell them that they were good American soldiers. I can’t speak for Kenji’s brother, though I’m sure he would have wanted to say the same. Please tell Kenji’s parents for me that their son wanted me to tell them that he loves them.

  Also, Kenji wanted me to pass on another message. Tell Miho that she was the last thought on Kenji’s mind and that he said she was the cutest girl he had ever known. I think Miho would like to know that. Tell Miho, also, that Kenji’s last thought was a good one before he closed his eyes forever.

  I will write soon but I needed you to tell you this for Kenji.

  I love you.

  Lovingly yours,

  Hiroshi

  T W E N T Y F O U R

  “I just saw three of them moving eastward at the intersection,” said Hiroshi. A couple of days before they set out to take the town of Casteneto, the company’s commander had promoted Hiroshi to the rank of sergeant for his heroic deed back in the town of Sasseta. Hiroshi was now in command of his own squad of soldiers. It surprised many of the troops, but they had welcomed it because they could share in the pride that one of their own was being recognized for his bravery.

  It was something that Hiroshi didn’t expect nor want. But he took the promotion out of duty to his men. Hiroshi was in charge of the squad that also included Peter and Akira.

  Intelligence suggested that this town was more heavily defended than the last one. The Nazis had regrouped as the U.S. Army moved north. There was also the possibility that Nazi reinforcements had also arrived to build up the position within the town.

  Hiroshi had led his squad up to a grouping of trees that stood along a curvy road leading into the quiet town. Peter crouched down behind Hiroshi, who surveyed the street with his binoculars. Akira took up position behind a tree to the right of Hiroshi, along with the other men, using the trees and foliage as cover.

  Hiroshi, along with the other squad leaders, was tasked with securing the outer perimeter and the immediate block of buildings surrounding the town. The town revealed little about what lay within its perimeter and a shroud of silence guarded it. Air support had already bombed the visible targets such as tanks and sandbag bunkers. Barricades that were erected to slow the intrusion of any U.S.-led attack were also bombed and created a messy obstacle of bombed-out debris.

  In order to fully secure the town, it was ne
cessary for infantry to flush out the Nazis, one building at a time. The enemy numbers were still unknown.

  Hiroshi wasn’t able to determine anything particularly useful as he spied the town from its outskirts. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could make out the end of a tank barrel jutting out from the corner of the building on the northeast corner of the intersection. Hiroshi looked to his left to the other sergeant, who had taken up his own position behind an outcropping of trees with his own men.

  The other sergeant put down his binoculars, looked at Hiroshi and signaled his own assessment. He confirmed the men running eastward and confirmed for Hiroshi the presence of a tank. However, whether or not the tank was intact was unknown.

  Hiroshi and the other sergeant decided to proceed with their assigned task. Hiroshi’s squad took the street entrance on the right, and the other sergeant took the one on the left. In quiet unison, a contingent of determined soldiers emerged from the trees. They were slightly hunched over, carrying their rifles low in front of them as they approached the town. When they were halfway to their destination, Hiroshi signaled his men to make a quiet run to the buildings’ walls.

  Hiroshi threw his right side into the wall, with Peter close behind. The other men followed. Hiroshi signaled to two men on the end, who nodded and turned about face to cover their six. He signaled to two other men to watch the windows above as they angled their rifles upward. Hiroshi signaled to Akira to prepare himself. Akira nodded as four other men behind him readied themselves.

  Hiroshi peered around the corner and looked down the abandoned street. There were at least four closed doors on his side of the street, and he counted five closed doors on the other. Hiroshi angled his rifle around the corner and Peter came around below him in a crouched position to provide cover fire. With Akira in the lead and the other four soldiers in two by two formation, they quickly scurried around the corner, kicked in the first door and raced into the building. Hiroshi held his position. His breathing was slow and deliberate as he watched the end of the street and the dark windows from across the street for any sign of movement. It was too quiet, he thought. He could feel the Nazi soldiers. Hiroshi heard some faint footsteps coming from inside the building. Akira was good at this, breaching a building and flushing out any troops.