Bunro Sakaino Concentration Camp Diary

Transcript

June 22 (Monday)

Radio broadcasting reports the Japanese submarine conducted a bombing 36 miles away from the Astoria Port in Oregon and it did not cause any damages.

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The submarine magically appears and disappears, and it conducts herself as if she had no enemies. We cannot tell how much bombing was done, but it is just the Japanese navy did what it needed to be done. At the same time, this could have not been done if not by our navy.

There is no doubt that not only people from Astoria City but from Portland are quite upset. I also can imagine that fellow Japanese citizens who have their family incarcerated in the assembly centers are also shocked and largely worried. Therefore, it is such an inconsiderate act that some people reacted jokingly to this good news.

Those people have been detained in different locations since the war started, and maybe because they cannot see what is happening in the outside world, they do not understand that a war is going on. They are just seeking comfort for their life and lacking the idea of nationality or ethnicity. They are full of hatred and curse thinking they were dragged to such a place and going through rough times although they did nothing wrong. All they do is to play with ignorant imaginations and to speak ill of others. They are not ready to accept hardship like a proud Japanese person. I am just stunned and do not have a word to say to those people when I see they are still asking for compensation for their loss and talking about it.

I received four letters in the afternoon. They are from Ms. Onishi, Mrs. Kiso and Ms. Ochiai. Ms. Onishi enclosed a 10-dollar money order and said it is for me to buy cigarettes or something else. I cannot help thinking about how I could repay all the kindness I have received so far.

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She wrote she hopes I will go back to Japan to rest and come back again when peaceful time comes back. I am so appreciative of her kindness as usual and cannot help shedding tears.

Mr. Nakatani sent me 15 dollars under the name of Mrs. Kiso. He said that is a part of the money the newspaper publisher collected, and he is still holding a bit more amount, but it takes enormous work to cash the assets. He wrote that he is going to send me a check sometime soon, but I hope he will not as it will be nothing but a piece of paper in this camp.

Ms. Nobuko seems to misunderstand what I wrote to her and sent me her apologies for not able to negotiate with Mr. Johnson as she is not able to go out.

I heard all Japanese books will be confiscated when we leave for Japan. I decided to write down all the waka and haiku poems I have written since I was sent to Missoula in a separate notebook.

Mountain top ranges lit red in the dark blue sky, I am feeling sad in Missoula (January 9, 1942)

Care package full of daily items and kind thoughts from Mrs. Kiso was delivered (January 2)

A few moments while unpacking the package, I could not hold back my tears and sobbing. (evening on January 2)

Big icicles are hanging from each barrack roof like swords, and it is getting dark in the cold (January 10)

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Arguments and complaints in the 25th barrack. Angry fifty-something-years-old fellows with a frowny face show shallowness inside. (January 10)

After attending morning service offered by Mr. Shigeo Okazaki.

Sound freezed at dawn, and it is getting lighter with a temperature of 20 degrees

Smoke coming up from poor barracks show there are people detained here (January 110

Barracks with people inside hold icicles.

Woke up with sound of falling icicles, living here is full of sadness

The deeper the snow on the streets gets, the older I feel　

Talks at snowy nights at a barrack with Muonshi stays at

(after finding out Mr. Muonshi Fujiwara is staying at another barrack)

Snow falls down on you and piles up regardless you are detained or not

(All of the above was written at a night haiku gathering on January 16)

Looking back old days, it is sad to waste a day like this (February 23)

Faint lighting at windows of the barracks, and the moon is high up in the sky (March 8)

Dreams of fellow Japanese, we are detained and shadow of the moon covers us (March 8)

Thinking of the red plum tree I left by the window of my room

Red plum tree in a pot is in poor shape, the sprint is going away in Oregon without anyone looking at it

My window with a blooming red plum tree, it might have spring rain today

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I am listening to Tchaikovsky on the radio on a rainy spring day, feeling like I was outside of the war

(All of the above was written on March 11)

Mr. Tsuboi is sick in bed

I am thinking of my sick friend listening to spring rain falling at dawn

I am not done unpacking a care package, but tears are already coming up

I am praying to the east sky with sharp sound of my hands clapping at 20 degrees temperature, it is getting lighter around

It is you and I who are listening to Schaikovsky on the radio on rainy spring days

(Mr. Kondo is also enjoying listening to the music)

I am dreaming of spring night with lights reflecting on waves of a river, and a black boat floating in the city (March 30)

I stopped and listened to someone playing a bamboo flute. Melancholic sound for people in detention, spring night is approaching. (March 20)

Liveliness is completely broken, and I am just living in these war days (March 30)

Boys are feeling sad to see birds going home after the sun sets (April 4)

Clouds are rising over the mountain peaks in Missoula in the morning, we leave with banzai cheering seeing us off (departed Missoula on April 10)

We departed through a forest of guns loaded by soldiers

Sacrifice of the war, I am bidding farewell in tears and departing (April 11)

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I have no longer have any fears, tossed around in the middle of the war (April 11)

Chased over Oklahoma, over five thousand miles of dreams (April 12)

Well known sandstorm in Oklahoma blowing for thousands of miles, even blowing in our tent (May 2)

Hearing guns loaded just lying down, being detained in a tent (May 2)

Feeling my blood streaming, while singing the Japanese national anthem (April 29)

Sound of someone playing shakuhachi bamboo flute stopped, I hear crickets chirping at dawn outside of the tent (May 3)

Smoking a cigarette with lonely feelings, I realized I am used to being alone for a number of years

I am leaving the place after thirty years of work finally being paid off (decided to go back to Japan, May 14)

Traveling across Texas

Vast green field appears in front of me, and it is approaching even closer (May 30)

I am able to bear my detained life, but feelings toward you are unbearable (July 1)