Wow Place #350: Chiran Peace Museum For Kamikaze Pilots, Minamikyushu City, Kagoshima, Japan
“Mother, I have nothing to say. In my last moment, and my first act of filial piety, I will smile and conquer. With dry eyes and knowing I have done well. Please offer some rice dumplings at our Buddhist mortuary tablet.” –Second Lieutenant Fujio Wakamatsu, in a personal letter to his family on the eve of his kamikaze mission to Okinawa.
When planning a trip to Japan, most travelers conjure images of elegant geishas, classical temples and gardens, giant Buddhas, steaming hot springs, delicious fresh sushi and futuristic bullet trains. Most of us wouldn’t purposely put a Kamikaze Museum on our itinerary.
The Atomic Bomb Museum in Hiroshima? Perhaps—as a ritual act of atonement. But Japanese suicide fighters? Why would I want to go there?
To be fair, this extremely moving museum has its share of controversy. Of the 2,000 visitors it draws every day, only 5% of them are from outside of Japan. On the one hand, one can view it from the lens of peace. Its stated purpose is “to commemorate the pilots and expose the tragic loss of their lives so that we may understand the need for everlasting peace and ensure such incidents are never repeated.”
In this sense, the museum serves as a useful educational tool prompting reflection on the nature of war and sacrifice, a la Auschwitz, Dachau, or the Killing Fields in Cambodia.
Nevertheless, it must also be stated that on August 15th of each year, the anniversary of Japan’s surrender in WW2, right-wing groups descend on the site to pay tribute to the kamikaze pilots.
In other words, the Chiran Kamikaze Museum is a flashpoint for the various interpretations and perspectives about Japan’s wartime history.
I sense nothing of this controversy during my visit to the museum. All I feel is sadness and regret that war (in all its forms) continues, across the ages, to demand such vast sacrifice of life from our youth. Because whatever the country, no matter the situation, war is inevitably directed by old men asking young men (and women) in their teens and early 20s to engage in the murder of other human beings. It’s a heartbreaking failure of human society to solve its problems through violence rather than civil discussion.
The Chiran Kamikaze museum, built in 1986 and spanning 17,000 square feet, is a poignant memorial to the 1,036 young men who sacrificed their lives as kamikaze pilots. 439 of them took off from here in Chiran, making it the principal base for kamikaze operations during the Battle of Okinawa.
During my visit, I observe four original aircraft, a “Shinyo suicide motor boat,” a variety of uniforms, letters and weapons, and an assortment of hachimaki headbands and water bottles. Perhaps most moving are the Hinomaru flags, with messages from family and friends. Photographs of all 1,036 Special Attack Corps pilots are represented in the museum, organized chronologically by the date of death.
I’m particularly touched by the recordings in the audio guide program, which provide a glimpse into the minds and hearts of these young men who willingly signed up for certain death. Says one pilot, “I will do a splendid job sinking an enemy aircraft carrier…I read the Bible every day…I will sing a hymn as I dive on an enemy vessel.”
Interestingly, quite a few pilots survived their deathly assignment, experiencing last-second engine trouble that forced them to miss their missions. Paraphrasing one such survivor’s account, “I figured we were going to lose the war anyway and the Allies would come in and kill us all. I might as well do something helpful for my country.”
Is the museum a monument to peace and the insanity of war, or a glorification of these young men’s valiant patriotism? Was Japan the victim of the war, or the aggressor? The museum allows you to make your own interpretation.
Myself, I think the Chiran Kamikaze Museum is well worth a visit if you’re in this neck of the woods, compelling you to ask yourself such questions as: What would I do in these young men’s shoes? Would I willingly sacrifice my life out of a sense of devotion to country and community? Can we ever let this kind of situation happen again?
Only you and your conscience can decide.
(It’s safe to say that war is the most complicated of subjects. Is warfare always to be avoided? Some would say yes, others would say, “Wait a second, you can’t just back down to a bully like Hitler.” And what of the soldiers who fight these battles? Are they brainwashed? Are they heroic? Can we appreciate those who defend us while at the same time mourn the tragedy of war? Is war a “necessary evil,” as long as men are flawed? I have no answers on these questions. About all I can say is that most of us would like a LOT less war and a LOT more peace, harmony and collaboration. To make that happen will require a different kind of struggle – an internal one — a struggle of mental and spiritual evolution. And that’s a battle I would happily engage in.)