Bunro Sakaino Concentration Camp Diary

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April 11 (Saturday)

Train running through a dark night does not give us any idea where we were.

We arrived at a fairly big town at 6 a.m. The sign says Billings. It is summer saving time and would have been at 5 a.m. It was a pretty lonely place with a few lights in sight. Ours was a special train, and of course no one was boarding or deboarding.

The train just kept running in the middle of a wild and vast field, and no matter where I looked, it was just an endless empty field in faded colors as far as I could see. I am glad regular meals suddenly started to be served. Paper plates on tin trays. Paper spoons and knives are still used just like they were on the way from Po [1] city to Missoula.

After lunch, a seemingly non-commissioned officer was walking through telling us that we were going through a scenic area called Winged River Canyon. There are tall and rocky mountains on both sides. I also saw a small stream running in the outskirts, but the water was muddy. During the trip through the continent, there was a sudden big change of scenery.

We arrived at a town called Casper at 4:15 p.m. While the train was there, men and women were looking at us Japanese with a strange look in their eyes. Guard soldiers got off the train every time we stopped and lined up on both sides of the train guarding. They chased people away if they tried to come closer to the train.

[1] Portland?

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What attracted our attention most was the seemingly Japanese father and son with sorrowful look on their faces, by the train in the station, staring at us to either welcome us or see us off, having a hard time going away from us.

They were not expecting to see us in the middle of Wyoming while we were being transported by guards in the middle of the war between Japan and the U.S. One was an old man aged around 60, and I think he was a farmer or a railroad worker judging from what he was wearing. The one who appeared to be his son was probably a high school student, and he was wearing an athlete sweater with letters. The son urged the father, and they left shortly after. I saw them driving the oldest version of Ford sedan when they left. I am wondering what was going though in the old Japanese man’s mind. He must have had some indescribable feelings to witness a train full of detained Japanese in this remote area.

We departed at 4:55 p.m. The windows were still not covered with shades. We passed small stations, but I had no idea where we were. It was just an ordinary vast field as far as I could see. We have armed soldiers onboard, and guards were stationed at both entrances of each compartment all day and all night.They are pretty friendly though have occasional chats with us. We go to sleep early with boredom and wake up early as well. It is quite a show to watch that Mr. Shosuke [2] Sasaki gets up at around 4 a.m. and starts to chant Buddhist mantras.

[2] Could be different

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We know the train is going on the northern Pacific railroad but have no idea exactly where we are. Elder Mr. Sato, the chairperson of a Japanese association in Sacramento, has 10 simple train guides, but we still cannot figure out where we are. The guards are from Fort Lewis and also cannot figure it out although they are trying hard. We are sure that we are heading south from Billings in Montana and chugging along in the middle of Wyoming. We guess the next destination is Denver city.