Encounter with Auer

After getting off the Yamanote Line at Harajuku Station and heading north for a while on Meiji-dori Avenue, one arrives at Tōgō Shrine, where Admiral of the Fleet Heihachirō Tōgō, the hero of the Battle of Tsushima Strait, is enshrined. Should one pass through the tori’i gateway that marks the entrance to the Shinto shrine, one will find, deep in the precinct, the building housing the Suikōkai (Japan Naval Association)Footnote 1 where navy people gather. In complete contrast to the hustle and bustle of the streets of Harajuku, lined with boutiques and restaurants, this area, surrounded by a cluster of trees and a pond, is notably serene.

Admiral Kazuomi Uchida (ret.) waits for me in the first-floor lobby of the building. A member of the Tan-Tan Kai (the gathering of James Auer’s friends), he has kindly spared time for an interview, accepting my request to ask him about his friendship with Auer, as well as the postwar relationship between the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force (JMSDF) and the US Navy. An older man (already 80 years of age) of small stature, he sits on a sofa facing me. The soft sunlight of a winter afternoon streams in through the glass window, hitting Uchida’s cheek.

Actually, I met Uchida once almost three decades ago, when he was serving as the chief of maritime staff (CMS), the JMSDF’s highest-ranking officer. Still a junior high school student, I accompanied my fatherFootnote 2 who had been invited to ASY Yūchidori, the JMSDF’s reception yacht. I exchanged words with the admiral who was sitting next to me. He was wearing a lily-white JMSDF summer uniform that was quite similar to the IJN uniform. He was not overbearing, receiving me with a dignity apparent even to a young boy. My father, somewhat embarrassed, reproached me: “Son, he is the most distinguished person in the navy; he would be like the chief of the Naval General Staff and the minister of the navy combined in the IJN days. You are being too casual with him.” But the most distinguished person in the JMSDF was smiling, appearing not to mind at all.

Many months and years have passed since that day, and Uchida retired a long time ago. However, the impression he makes now has not changed at all since the first time I met him. Although he is somewhat small and seemingly slight of build, he is resolute and has a fine carriage, being efficient in everything he does. He states his opinion logically and clearly, without being tedious or saying too much. Does his crispness come from his naval education? Or is it simply his nature? I wondered as I listened to Uchida talk in a quiet corner of the Suikōkai.

Uchida served as the CMS from 1969 to 1972; he was in that position when he was one of the JMSDF officers Auer first met on coming to Japan to research the history of the JMSDF’s formation, as mentioned in Chap. 1. Uchida said he does not remember that first encounter with Auer well. He was plain and brief from the beginning of my interview, claiming he did not have a particularly personal relationship with Auer.

I think I first met Dr. Auer in around 1970 when he came to research the formation of the JMSDF, having been introduced by the US Navy’s chief of naval operations , Admiral Zumwalt. I was amazed that he intended to conduct research into the creation of the postwar Japanese navy. What an admirable person—he must be seeing into the future, I thought.

In the early 1970s, a quarter of a century after the end of World War II, the presence of the JSDF, including the JMSDF, was still small. Japan, almost lacking the concept of contingency readiness, was entirely dependent on the US military’s power for its defense. Many on the left refused to recognize the very existence of the JSDF, verbally abusing JSDF personnel and their families as tax parasites. “I consider National Defense Academy cadets as an embarrassing stain on our generation,” Kenzaburō ŌeFootnote 3 wrote in 1958; the perception of progressive intellectuals had not changed much since then. Moreover, a strongly adverse reaction to the military lingered in each stratum of the society of politicians, bureaucrats, and citizens, regardless of their political inclination. There had been no decent discussions—they were avoided—on Japan’s national security since the revision of the Japan-US Security Treaty in 1960.

The JMSDF’s equipment compared poorly with the US Navy’s, its vessels and aircraft were vastly inferior in number and types. The accommodation and welfare facilities for JMSDF personnel were still far from adequate. Ruling party politicians and civilian bureaucrats of the Defense Agency themselves did not consider the Japanese and US naval forces equal. The atmosphere of the time did not welcome the interchange between uniformed personnelFootnote 4 of the two countries.

Under these circumstances, a young US Navy lieutenant commander came to conduct research into the JMSDF. An American naval officer recognized postwar Japanese naval power as a theme worthy of research and felt that it would play a significant role in the future. Uchida must have been delighted. For this reason, he instructed his subordinates to afford Auer their full cooperation. Moreover, this was why, both in public and private, he told Auer, who felt indebted to Uchida for his offer of help, “Your research benefits us, too.”

Since then, the JMSDF has experienced rapid growth, quantitatively and qualitatively. In the 1980s, it came to play a part in the US strategy of deterrence against the Soviets in the Far East. In the 1990s, the JMSDF engaged in minesweeping operations in the Persian Gulf and started joint exercises with the Russian and South Korean navies. A maritime security operation was ordered to capture unidentified ships that appeared along the Sea of Japan coast; Japanese destroyers and aircraft fired warning shots at these craft. Such developments, taken for granted now, were beyond everyone’s wildest dreams in the early 1970s. Not even JMSDF personnel would have believed that the JMSDF would establish itself in the nation as it has done at present.

However, Uchida had always firmly believed that the existence of the JMSDF was indispensable for Japan. He was also convinced that there would be no future for the JMSDF without a close relationship with the US Navy. He thought that the Japanese and US navies should cooperate to maintain the security of the Pacific. Yet no one expected the head of uniformed personnel to express such an opinion. Uchida, on his part, merely carried out his duties without saying much throughout his nearly 40-year naval career: as a young IJN officer before and during the war, then again after the war as a member of the JMSDF in its early period or as the CMS, his final assignment. Then he entrusted the future of the JMSDF to the younger generation and retired quietly, only leaving a farewell message about his beliefs regarding the role of a navy.

From an IJN Officer to a JMSDF Official

JMSDF Officials (jieikan) are uniformed officers and sailors, not to be confused with civilian bureaucrats (see footnote four, above).

Uchida is a graduate of the IJN’s Naval Academy (63rd class); he entered the academy in 1932 and graduated in 1936. The Naval Academy, established in 1869, was formerly known as the Kaigun Sōrenjo (Naval Training Center); it was renamed the Kaigun Heigakuryō in 1870, and after 1876 was called the Kaigun Heigakkō. Initially located in Tsukiji, Tokyo, the academy moved to Etajima, Hiroshima in August 1888. Its 76-year history came to an end in 1945, when the academy was shuttered in October and abolished in November following Japan’s defeat and the IJN’s demise. Twelve years later, the JMSDF Officer Candidate School opened in 1957 on the same site in Etajima. Traditions from the IJN days still live on in various ways at this school, including the red brick cadet residence hall, which has been used for instruction since 1958.

For instance, the style of the graduation ceremony for the JMSDF Officer Candidate School is not much different from the Naval Academy’s ceremony. Commissioned as ensigns during the ceremony in the great hall, the graduates attend a celebratory meal with their families, after which they march in single file to the main pier while saluting, the “Gunkan March (Warship March)” playing in the background. This pier extending out into the calm waters of Etauchi Bay is the main entrance of the school, similar to the layout of the naval academies at Dartmouth in the United Kingdom and Annapolis in the United States.

As they arrive at the main pier, the graduates board tenders one by one. Once all are aboard, the band changes tunes, playing “Hotaru no Hikari.”Footnote 5 A few tenders depart simultaneously from the main pier, dispersing to reach different vessels of the Training Squadron. The graduates line up on the aft decks of the tenders to face the send-off crowd, waving their caps in farewell. In response, the CMS, the school’s superintendent, and other JMSDF officers and sailors present for the send-off wave their caps. Each of the Training Squadron vessels anchored offshore awaits the graduates, ready for departure, their anchor chain shortened. When the graduates board these vessels, they rush up to the deck at once and line up again, manning the rail and facing the school.

As everyone gets in line, the flagship uses flags to signal the order to get underway; each vessel weighs anchor accordingly at the commanding officer’s order to “prepare to get underway, heave up the anchor.” Onshore, the CMS gazes at the Training Squadron, standing on a platform with a pair of yellow-strapped binoculars in his hand. The duty officer gives the order: “JS Kashima is getting underway, wave caps to JS Kashima!” As all those gathered for the send-off slowly wave their caps and hats once more, the vessel begins to move quietly and depart from Etauchi Bay for the overseas training cruise. As each vessel begins to move, the order “Bō fure! (Wave your caps!)” is given, and the crowd, waving their caps and hats in farewell, prays for the safety of the cruise. On deck, the graduates respond by waving their own caps. A few JMSDF Fleet Air Force aircraft fly over the vessels at low altitude to celebrate the occasion.

Uchida left Etajima in a similar fashion in March 1936, departing on an overseas training cruise with other midshipmen in his class.Footnote 6 The Training Squadron then consisted of two cruisers, HIJMS Iwate and HIJMS Yakumo, and its destination was the United States. The squadron navigated across the Pacific, stopping at Seattle, San Francisco, and San Pedro, the outer port for Los Angeles. After passing through the Panama Canal, crossing the Caribbean Sea, and stopping at Havana, it sailed around the Florida Peninsula and entered the Chesapeake Bay. It then headed north along the Atlantic Coast and arrived at the port of New York. When a bunch of condoms came floating downstream, a grinning instructor explained what they were to the innocent young midshipmen. The grand scale and might of the United States, evident in such things, impressed Uchida.

During his stay in New York, he visited RMS Queen Mary, the enormous new ocean liner operated by the Cunard-White Star Line of the United Kingdom, and the Empire State Building towering over the middle of Manhattan. From there, the squadron turned around, transited the Panama Canal once again, and reached Hawaii, receiving a warm welcome from Japanese Americans there. Then it returned home to Japan, stopping at the islands of the South Pacific Mandate en route. The opulence of the United States, its tall buildings and stunning highways, were burned into the midshipmen’s memories.

That was the year (1936) of the February 26 Incident.Footnote 7 The following year, the Marco Polo Bridge IncidentFootnote 8 expanded the war in mainland China; during this period, Japan-US relations were becoming increasingly uncertain. In the minds of young midshipmen sailing to the United States on their overseas training cruise, there was a feeling that they might end up fighting against the country they were about to visit. The midshipmen even discussed among themselves the possibility of a future war against the United States. “You should watch each wave closely in the Pacific—that’s where you are going to fight in the future,” Vice Admiral Sankichi Takahashi, commander in chief of the Combined Fleet, had told the midshipmen in his address before their departure. In contrast, the commander of the Training Squadron, Vice Admiral Zengo Yoshida, stated that “Japan and the United States would never fight each other,” in the speech he gave in Tacoma, Washington.

Takahashi was known as the right-hand man of Admiral Hiroharu Katō (also known as Kanji Katō), the leader of the Fleet FactionFootnote 9 within the IJN, which opposed disarmament and cooperation with the United Kingdom and the United States. Yoshida, on the other hand, was in the same class at the Naval Academy as Isoroku Yamamoto, and was a member of the Treaty Faction,Footnote 10 which supported disarmament and advocated against war with the United States. Yoshida was appointed commander in chief of the Combined Fleet the next year and served as the minister of the navy from August 1939 to September 1940, succeeding Mitsumasa Yonai. But, unable to withstand the pressure to conclude the Tripartite Pact with Germany and Italy, he resigned after suffering a nervous breakdown.

Having listened to both men’s speeches, young Uchida was struck by the thought that even senior officers said things that were so different from one another. Still, he was a young man in his early twenties, newly graduated from the Naval Academy. He was not aware of the senior naval officers’ conflict over strategy. Moreover, it was impossible for him to understand how Japan should interact with the United States, having visited the country just once on an overseas training cruise.

After that voyage, Uchida gained experience as a naval officer on board a destroyer, a cruiser, and submarines. He also took part in close combat during the Battle of Shanghai (the Second Shanghai Incident) in 1937, leading a unit of naval infantry.Footnote 11 Although it was war, he thought it was a horrible thing to kill someone. When the war against the United States broke out, he had already been promoted to lieutenant. His legs trembled thinking about the war against the United States, the mighty country which he had seen on the overseas training cruise. He joined HIJMS Yamato, the flagship of the Combined Fleet, and participated in the Battle of Midway. With four aircraft carriers sunk—HIJMS Akagi, HIJMS Kaga, HIJMS Soryū, and HIJMS Hiryū—he returned to Japan with the remnants of the defeated fleet.

During the battle, Uchida’s perception of the United States changed somewhat. The headquarters on HIJMS Yamato was receiving wireless messages non-stop from the forward-deployed battle force. The US Navy’s torpedo bombers and seaplanes—contrary to the assumption of evident inferiority in numbers and performance, as well as the lack of agility—kept taking off from their base in Midway to fight against the Japanese task force, even after many of them were consistently shot down.

This was a wholly unexpected situation for the Imperial Navy. The Americans were cowardly and spineless and had no stomach for a fight. At least, that was what most Japanese people believed. The battleships Uchida had seen at the naval base in San Diego, where he visited during the overseas training cruise, were dated and unimpressive. The sailors lacked discipline and their uniforms were disorganized, giving Uchida the impression that the US Navy was no match for the IJN. But lo and behold! Against heavy odds, the Americans charged toward the Japanese vessels. By an irony of fate, the Imperial Navy suffered a crushing defeat at the Battle of Midway. In his heart, Uchida knew this was a serious matter.

After the Battle of Midway, Uchida served at the Combined Fleet Headquarters on the Truk Islands,Footnote 12 then returned to mainland Japan. While the war situation was deteriorating by the day, he never expected that Japan would be defeated. He was on the naval staff of the Yokosuka Naval Gunnery School when Japan surrendered to the Allied Powers and lost the war. He was devoted to training to fight on land, in preparation for the landing of the US forces, which proved to be a wasted effort in the end. Nine years had passed since he had been commissioned as an ensign; he had become a lieutenant commander. As a survivor of the war, what can I do? Rumor has it that the armed forces personnel will be brought to the United States to become slaves. If that’s the case, take me there. That was how Uchida felt: he was ready for anything.

Before long, the US forces arrived at the gunnery school to assume control. He handed over their weapons, and the takeover of the school was completed perfunctorily without a hitch. He felt neither fear nor animosity. He was not taken anywhere, either. After relinquishing the school, he was sent to the Atsugi Naval Air Base, where the disarmament faced trouble because the commander, Yasuna Kozono, had resisted the order to surrender. Uchida was sent there to deal with the aftermath. He engaged in negotiations with a black US Army first lieutenant and was impressed to find him cool-headed, not acting highhandedly in the least. There was a great quantity of naval stores on the base, items such as soybeans and overcoats, so civilians sneaked in to steal them. When Uchida questioned a married couple pushing a large two-wheeled wagon, they made a thousand apologies and asked him to turn a blind eye. How pitiful, he thought. It was a misery he had never encountered in the armed forces. For the first time, Japan’s defeat felt tangible and real.

After the assignment in Atsugi, Uchida dealt with the repatriation of overseas naval personnel at the Ministry of the Navy in Tokyo. When the ministry was abolished on November 30, 1945, he worked in the Second Demobilization MinistryFootnote 13 and then its successor, the Demobilization Agency,Footnote 14 which took over the repatriation mission. He returned to his hometown in Okayama in the summer of 1948 because food shortages in Tokyo made getting enough to eat difficult and he did not enjoy his work there, either. He had inherited farmland in his hometown. Why not go back and be a farmer? Taking off his uniform, the lieutenant commander, a Naval Academy graduate, returned to his birthplace with empty pockets.

Starting in 1945, Japanese public opinion toward armed forces personnel underwent a sea change. Before and during the war, they had been valued and respected as warriors defending the country; after the war, they were treated as villains. People blamed them for the hardship stemming from Japan’s defeat. Even among the people in his hometown, there were some who gave Uchida the cold shoulder. They talked about him behind his back: “He was strutting around until just recently—but look at him now.” Uchida kept his mouth shut and cultivated his small fields. He worked hard to secure food for his family any way he could and to send his youngest brother to school. In his spare time after his farm work was done, he wrote down his thoughts to heal his empty heart.

Yet the unfamiliar rural life was very hard. I’m not cut out to be a farmer. Utterly exhausted after struggling in the fields for 4 years, Uchida decided to be a salaryman (a Japanese white-collar worker) and applied for a job as an English teacher at a local junior high school under the new educational system. It was 1952. Just a week after his employment was secured, however, a senior colleague from his time in the IJN invited him to take an examination to serve in the recently created Coastal Safety Force.Footnote 15 Uchida reflected to himself: The navy is the only life I know. I don’t know what the Coastal Safety Force will do, but it’s possible I might be able to go to sea. I’d love to spend time at sea again. Uchida gave up the teaching position he had managed to secure and joined the force. He was not envisioning anything on the scale of reconstructing the navy. He entered the force just to survive, he says, smiling. And this is how Uchida’s second life in the navy started.

Rejoining the Navy

As Auer details in his research, IJN personnel began contemplating the rebuilding of the navy immediately after Japan’s defeat. They laid out a plan in strict confidence, preparing for the future. In the meantime, the minesweepers that had belonged to the IJN continued their mission to remove the mines that Japan and the United States had both laid in the waters around Japan during the war. During the Korean War, Japan dispatched minesweepers to waters off the coast of the Korean Peninsula in response to a request from the US Navy. In that sense, as Auer pointed out, the ex-IJN officers and sailors continued to serve in the postwar minesweeping force, its operational activities uninterrupted in spite of the country’s defeat. The outbreak of the Korean War was a turning point: thereafter the Occupation authorities began for the first time to consider the rearmament of Japan.

The United States did not initially seem to be giving much consideration to the Japanese navy’s revival. With the US Navy protecting the waters around the Japanese archipelago, it was more or less believed that having the MSA,Footnote 16 a force similar to the US Coast Guard, would be enough for Japan. Despite this situation, some former IJN officers aggressively lobbied the Japanese and US governments, with the understanding and cooperation of old acquaintances within the US Navy; one such officer was former IJN Admiral Kichisaburō Nomura, who had been serving as ambassador to the United States at the outbreak of World War II. The Coastal Safety Force was established as a separate organization within the MSA on April 26, 1952. On that day, the law to amend the Maritime Safety Agency Act was promulgated and implemented immediately. The prescribed number of regular personnel at the time of its establishment was about 6000. By the end of June, the number of recruits only reached 1000.

In the beginning, most of the new organization’s vessels were ex-IJN minesweepers taken over from the MSA. The US Navy lent two patrol frigates (PF) and a Landing Ship Support, Large (LSSL) on May 12 for the training of the Coastal Safety Force. As the official loan agreement was not in place yet, these vessels were handed over on the pretext of storage.

On August 1, 1952, the National Safety Agency was newly established as an extra-ministerial bureau of the Prime Minister’s Office.Footnote 17 At the same time, the Coastal Safety Force was transferred from the MSA, renamed as the Safety Security Force, and integrated into the National Safety Agency along with the National Police Reserve, which was also renamed as the National Safety Force.Footnote 18 In January 1953, the US Navy officially transferred six PFs and four LSSLs to the Safety Security Force, based on a loan agreement concluded between Japan and the United States in November 1952. As the US national anthem was played, the US Navy crews lowered and removed the American flags and departed from the vessels. In turn, the Safety Security Force personnel boarded and hoisted Japanese flags and Safety Security Force flags as the Japanese national anthem was played. These were small ships: the standard displacement of a PF was about 1500 tons, while that of an LSSL was about 300 tons. Although it could not compare to the IJN, which had two million personnel and 500 vessels in its heyday, the Japanese navy was finally reborn 7 years after the nation’s defeat. The old admiral, Kichisaburō Nomura, was said to have shed tears at the ceremony to accept the transfer of US vessels.

By December 1953 the Safety Security Force had taken a total of 18 PFs and 50 LSSLs on loan from the US Navy. It made a fresh start as the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force (JMSDF) in July 1954, the month following the promulgation of the Act for Establishment of the Defense Agency and the Self-Defense Forces Act.

When the Coastal Safety Force was established, the first task was to assemble and train the officers who would form its core. The former IJN personnel who were involved in the revival of the navy selected the first group of officer candidates. The first 30 of them gathered in Yokosuka in January 1952 to begin their training to become instructors, which was held in a special lecture hall within the US naval base. The very fact that the Coastal Safety Force had been established was still strictly confidential. Thirteen of the group had come from various parts of the country, giving up the jobs they had secured after the war, upon receiving a letter from their former senior IJN colleagues. Among these men were future chiefs of maritime staff, including Takaichi Itaya of the 60th Naval Academy class and Suteo Ishida of the 64th class. Itaya’s successor was Uchida, who, in turn, was succeeded by Ishida as CMS.

Officer recruitment activities then began in earnest in April, upon the official establishment of the Coastal Safety Force. Most of the applicants were former IJN officers who were notified of the recruitment by their senior IJN colleagues and classmates and decided to join the new navy. The sense of unity among the former IJN personnel was strong, and the officer recruitment went smoothly, in contrast to recruiting for the National Police Reserve, which had been established slightly earlier. In July, 257 Coastal Safety Force officers were commissioned. One of them was Uchida, who turned up from Okayama.

Although he joined the Coastal Safety Force from a desire to go to sea again, Uchida was initially assigned as an instructor to teach navy fundamentals to younger recruits. He taught gunnery at the former IJN Torpedo School (the current JMSDF Second Service School) facility. Rebuilding the navy required men, above all. People like Uchida, educated as a naval officer before the war, were needed to put the recently established Coastal Safety Force on track. Naturally, those instructors who had been educated in the IJN taught the younger generation the methods they had learned, as well as those that had been forged in action. Without much conscious effort, the new navy inherited the tradition and methods of the IJN. This is why the JMSDF, of all three service branches of the JSDF, has kept most closely to traditions of its pre-war predecessor to this day.

Furthermore, the IJN had been established modeled after the Royal Navy, so it had many things in common with the US Navy, which had also inherited its traditions from the Royal Navy. Thus, even though the JMSDF came under the guidance of the US Navy, it was not necessary to start everything from scratch.

Still, the Coastal Safety Force that Uchida joined was based entirely on the US style. The vessels and weapons were all American; the textbooks were translations of US texts; and the training methods were also American. Uchida had mixed feelings about this, having perceived the United States as the enemy and devoted his heart and soul to defeating it not so many years before. No doubt the US Navy’s technologies and equipment are marvelous, things like radar and proximity fuses. They’re so much more advanced than the Japanese standard. There’s no way Japan could have won the war. These new American technologies should be adopted. But Japan has its own way. A poor country can have its own weapons systems, ones that suit them. We don’t have to do everything the same way. That was what Uchida thought.

Before and during World War II, Uchida had not been involved in the IJN’s central administration. Neither had he had any direct connections to that group of pro-UK/US former IJN leadership, which included Kichisaburō Nomura, for example, who strove to rebuild the navy. Hence, he had no clear idea about the relationship with the United States. As an officer belonging to the third-class navy of a defeated Japan, dependent on the US Navy for everything, he was simply mortified, and pledged that the Japanese navy would be back again as an equal in the future. However, his mortification and enthusiasm energized him, and he vigorously tackled various missions in the newly established Coastal Safety Force. Although he was not able to go to sea as he initially wanted, in 1954 he was involved in the plan to build submarines domestically for the first time since the end of the war. In addition, he took part in the construction of four destroyers that were to be built in Japan also for the first time since the end of the war. These plans were readily approved, probably under the pretext of promoting Japan’s shipbuilding industry. In the atmosphere of the time, it appeared that anything could be done so long as the United States approved. Although it was highly questionable whether Japan could be defended with only the armaments it had then, Uchida found fulfillment in the time he spent assigned to the administrative center of the JMSDF in its early days, accomplishing important missions despite having few resources.

The big turning point for Uchida was the year he spent studying in the United States, from 1962 to 1963. In a way, Admiral Arleigh Burke had made Uchida’s study abroad possible. Still a rear admiral at the time, Burke had spent about 8 months in Japan during the Korean War as deputy chief of staff to the commander, US Naval Forces, Far East (NAVFE). During his stay, Burke had met and become friends with Kichisaburō Nomura and other former IJN leaders. When the new navy was created, he cooperated sympathetically during his time in Japan and afterwards, too. He is still respected as one of the people who played a critical role in the establishment of the JMSDF.

Burke was on good terms with Admiral Sadayoshi Nakayama, who was to become the fourth CMS. Burke is said to have given various pieces of advice to Nakayama, who was appointed the first president of the JMSDF Command and Staff College, established in 1954 to educate senior commanders and staff for the JMSDF. On his visit to the United States in 1955, Nakayama requested that Burke, who had become CNO, establish a program to let future JMSDF leaders study at the US Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island. The program was implemented the following year: senior naval officers from more than 20 countries were to study together for 9 months at the US Naval War College. A Japanese officer would be invited every year, it was decided.

Five future chiefs of maritime staff, including Uchida, were sentFootnote 19 on this program, which was called the Naval Command Course.Footnote 20 At the time he was chosen for the program, Uchida was the director of the personnel division at the MSO. As such, he was supposed to be in a position to select an officer for the study abroad program. Thinking that someone younger should be sent, he went to see CMS Nakayama with the name of a submariner. However, Nakayama said Uchida should go instead. Uchida recollects that he couldn’t help asking, “Why me?”

At the time, Uchida was already 47 years old. How can I learn to drive a car in the United States and speak English at this age? Why did Admiral Nakayama choose me? Shouldn’t it be someone younger? He had mixed feelings, but eventually he set his mind on having a fresh look at the beautiful country he had visited on his voyage before the war. And so, Uchida, unexpectedly given an opportunity to study abroad, left Japan with some trepidation. It was April 1962.

Although he himself did not realize it at the time, the relationship between the Japanese and US navies would grow much closer thanks to his stay in the United States. It seems that the naval leaders of the two countries, including Admiral Burke and Admiral Nakayama, were pulling invisible strings behind the scenes.

Uchida’s Experience in the US

After arriving in the United States, Uchida studied English for 2 months at the Naval Intelligence School in Washington, D.C.Footnote 21 During his stay there, he visited Arlington National Cemetery on the opposite side of the Potomac River to see the Changing of the Guard ceremony. Afterwards, he also visited the Iwo Jima Memorial nearby. The US Marines who had landed on Iwo Jima, a prominent hard-fought battlefield during the Pacific War, raised the US flag at the summit of Mount Suribachi. A bronze statue had been created based on the famous photo capturing that moment. Here, Uchida made a discovery that changed his perception of the United States. In a letter to the author, Uchida wrote about his experience back then.

Before studying abroad, I was anti-American at heart and eager to see the full hypocrisy of democracy. When I saw the Iwo Jima Memorial in Arlington, however, I was startled by the hollow-cheeked faces of the Marines. I was moved to tears. “Well,” I thought to myself. “It was hard for you, too. I did not know.” From that point, my view changed completely.

Of the six Marines depicted in the bronze sculpture, three lost their lives in subsequent battles. Thus, rather than a display of hubris on the part of the victors, the work might be showing the severity and misery of war. Realizing this, Uchida felt, for the first time, great sympathy for these former enemies. This change of heart might seem sudden. Despite his unease at living in a foreign country for the first time, however, it seems Uchida’s heart had already gradually softened in his meetings with US naval personnel after arriving in the United States.

After spending a hot summer in Washington, D.C., Uchida moved to Newport, Rhode Island, in September. He became a lodger at an ordinary home on Oak Street in a residential area. The owner of the house ran a Buick dealership. The owner’s wife had been engaged to another man during the war; he had made a sortie on a submarine and was lost at sea near Japan before they had had a chance to wed. Partly because of that connection, the couple decided to take in Japanese naval personnel as lodgers. Before and after Uchida, successive students sent by the JMSDF to study at the Naval War College lodged with this family, each one passing down the room, along with the car he drove, to the next arriving student.

Despite having lost her first fiancé in the war with Japan, the hostess was warm and kind. Uchida shared evening meals together with the family in the dining room. He was pleased that the children understood his English. Through living with this American family, he learned many things. Unlike in Japan, the husband managed the finances. American husbands and wives, too, had quarrels. They also actively socialized with their neighbors. They fulfilled their responsibilities well as members of society. Uchida was impressed to learn what makes a true citizen.

Uchida never got homesick during his 9-month homestay, where he was well looked after; he enjoyed a series of very American experiences: the beautiful New England autumn foliage; the local Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas holidays; the new green of the following spring. The woman of the house, along with her family, shaped Uchida’s formative experience in the United States. Later, it so happened that her husband went bankrupt after losing out to competition from Japanese cars; he gave up his Buick automobile dealership, became ill, and died. Although the woman ended up losing a fiancé and a husband because of Japan, she never expressed any animosity about it. She now lives in San Diego with her husband from her third marriage.

Uchida was also warmly welcomed by US naval personnel in the Naval Command Course at the Naval War College. There were still many World War II veterans in the US Navy. They came up to Uchida and praised Japan for having fought well. These were not just empty compliments, either; their words were full of sincere admiration. In Newport, there were naval officers from various lands, such as the Netherlands, Portugal, Vietnam, and the Republic of China. Uchida socialized with them all closely, but the respect shown by the US naval personnel to the Japanese navy was exceptional. In practice, there were many things to be learned from the United States regarding technology, but Uchida had the impression that the Japanese and US navies were equal in terms of strategy and tactics. In the course sessions, his US Navy instructors always asked Uchida for his opinion.

Uchida wondered: Where did this respect come from? It was, in fact, because they had fought tooth and nail that respect was earned and friendships were forged, wasn’t it? War is horrible. It would be better if the world were free of war. But sometimes people can find no reasonable way of settling differences. If true friendship and trust between the Japanese and US Navies have arisen for the first time because of the war across the Pacific, perhaps the sailors who lost their lives on both sides of that conflict may be at greater peace. If the Japanese and US Navies had not fought each other, a close postwar relationship between the two might not have been forged. Uchida recalled the US Navy’s brave torpedo bomber pilots throwing themselves against the Japanese task force during the Battle of Midway, no matter how many of them were shot down.

A while after returning from studying abroad, Uchida was promoted to CMS in 1969 (Fig. 2.1). After serving in this post for a little less than 3 years, he retired in 1972. For his last 10 years in the JMSDF, Uchida quietly carried out his assigned duties. Nonetheless, JMSDF senior officers were rarely respected in Japan, in contrast to the warm reception he had received in the United States. He thought that the views of JMSDF uniformed personnel on national defense were not well understood. The Japanese government was not considering national defense seriously. The Soviet menace was not recognized well enough. Civilian control was lacking. We can communicate well enough to understand each other only with the US Navy, with whom we jointly devote ourselves to conducting exercises at sea; it is better than with the Japan Air Self-Defense Force (JASDF) or the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force (JGSDF).

Fig. 2.1
A photo of Admiral Kazuomi Uchida.

Admiral Kazuomi Uchida, eighth Chief of Staff, JMSDF. (Photo credit: JMSDF)

Full size image

The navy is unique. It has a sophisticated culture that’s shared internationally. It has a common culture that allows interaction without ostentation. Starting with their manners, naval personnel share navy ways. They understand each other. They don’t need to hold back. It must be the influence of the sea. When you face the sea, you can’t lie. When a storm comes, everyone has to avert danger in the same way. As groups dealing with Mother Nature and sharing a common way, naval personnel have a sense of camaraderie. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to other naval officers than to fellow countrymen.

Maybe I became attached to the US Navy. Perhaps I am fulfilling the will of my predecessors by getting along with the Navy that they had fought and lost to. Why not show them that I can be best friends with their worst enemy? That was my feeling.

Since navies find it easy to communicate with each other, a more robust level of personnel exchange should be encouraged among them so that they can become even closer and work together in case of an emergency. This was a belief that Uchida firmly held after returning from his study abroad. Perhaps he figured that promoting friendship among navies would provide a shortcut for the JMSDF to gain a respectable international status. As the CMS, he endeavored to promote personnel exchange with other navies. While he began interactions with Southeast Asian navies as well, he especially cherished the connection with the allied US Navy.

These were the convictions held by the JMSDF’s top officer whom Auer encountered when he came to Japan to study the creation of the postwar Japanese navy. In this young US lieutenant commander, Uchida must have seen something of himself as he headed to Newport 10 years earlier. In Uchida, Auer saw the finest tradition of the Japanese Navy and was fascinated by it. He considered Uchida an outstanding leader of the Japanese Navy, both before and after the war. For his part, Uchida discovered in Auer a sympathetic storyteller for the JMSDF of the sort that was hard to find in Japan. The uninterrupted exchange between the Japanese and US Navies dating back to the prewar period was strengthened through the contact between Auer and Uchida.

Thirty years have already passed since Uchida retired; the last of the former IJN officers retired from the JMSDF more than 10 years ago. The current leaders of the JMSDF were all born after the war and are graduates of the National Defense Academy and civilian universities. The JMSDF has not demonstrated its ability in an actual war in the nearly 50 years since the establishment of the Coastal Safety Force. Although the current JMSDF has capabilities that are equal to other countries’ navies in terms of equipment, morale, and skills, the nation is scarcely aware of it.

IJN admirals fought three times at sea,Footnote 22 in wars where the nation’s very existence was at stake, and they became heroes. Even today’s youth know names such as Heihachirō Tōgō and Isoroku Yamamoto. But nobody knows the names of any JMSDF leaders. No matter how outstanding a leader Uchida was, few people know of his achievements as the JMSDF’s senior commanding officer.

Still, JMSDF leaders, including Uchida, have trained hard, without losing heart, even though they have never fought a glorious battle and have been unable to gain the nation’s recognition. They maintained close working relations at all levels with the allied US Navy and handed down the naval tradition to today’s JMSDF. That was their greatest achievement.

In one of the essays that he wrote from time to time, Uchida compares daily life in the military to theatrical rehearsals.

For armed personnel, it can be said that everything in daily life is a rehearsal. Training, discipline, education, exercise, inspection—everything is a rehearsal in preparation for an emergency.

Yet no matter how well they are set up, rehearsals are completely different from the reality. First of all, nobody is shooting at you. [In a real war] the opponent, allies, weapons, and locations would be different on each occasion. … No matter how serious you are when you deal with a rehearsal, it does not guarantee victory in a real war. In this respect, it is entirely different from a theatrical performance.

Unexpected situations will always arise in a real war, no matter how many times you train and exercise. If this happens, training may not prove helpful. However, to face a real war in the best condition possible, there is no alternative but to work as hard as you can in training. You do not know when a real war will break out. Your opportunity to serve the country might come tomorrow, but it is also possible that it will not come at all. If anything, it is better for the nation that no such moment should arise. The duty of armed personnel, and the duty of the JSDF personnel, is genuinely complicated and delicate.

Not once during my interview did Uchida boast about his achievements. His talk was very detached and without gloss. Yet, throughout our conversation, I could sense his deep affection for the IJN and the JMSDF. We parted and I exited the Suikōkai building. As I made my way back to Harajuku Station, I had a moment of reflection: Japanese businesspeople, who won fame for making the country’s Sonys and Hondas into world-class companies, were not the only ones who had built up postwar Japan.