JS Akizuki

It is the tradition of the IJN and JMSDF to reuse the same names for their ships, such as Kaga, Hyūga, Atago, and Ashigara. The Akizuki described here is the second of the name (the first being a IJN destroyer; the current third vessel was commissioned in March 2012).

On December 7, 1993, at precisely 9:45 a.m.—or “zero nine four five” in Japanese navy parlance—the “Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force (JMSDF) Ensign Return Ceremony” begins onboard the service ship JS Akizuki, moored at Yoshikura Pier at JMSDF Yokosuka Base. On the “Dutch slope,” a unique quarterdeck that partially slants toward the stern,Footnote 1 the entire crew of JS Akizuki, senior officers from JMSDF Headquarters Yokosuka District, former commanding officers, representatives of the US Navy in Japan, and a few other guests are lined up. Among them is James Auer.

The order comes to “lower the JMSDF ensign.” As the JMSDF Band Yokosuka lined up behind them plays the national anthem, “Kimigayo,” sailors slowly lower the JMSDF ensign (the same flag that IJN vessels hoisted as their ensign) fluttering at the stern, then carefully fold it, all according to ceremony. An officer, holding it reverently, steps forward a few paces to hand it to the commanding officer, who then returns it to the commandant of the Yokosuka District. According to the timetable distributed to the attendees in advance, the time to return the JMSDF ensign is 9:53 a.m., “zero nine five three.” The minute-by-minute schedule is characteristic of the JMSDF, which inherited navy traditions. Then Commandant of the Yokosuka District Takeo Fukuchi and his guest, Rear Admiral Jesse J. Hernandez, commander, US Naval Forces Japan, give short speeches and the ceremony concludes at 10:00 a.m. The attendees leave the ship.

As the band, now lined up at the pier, plays the “Gunkan March,” JS Akizuki’s crew disembarks, marching in formation with the commanding officer at the rear. While the music is gallant, the sailors are not marching in time by anyone’s standard, the movement of their arms and legs somewhat inconsistent. I see some middle-aged sailors about my age among them. The line departs, the music stops, and silence once again fills the air, just as it had before the ceremony. It is a warm and sunny winter morning, a few seagulls float on the sea nearby. With its crew ashore, JS Akizuki shines in the winter morning sun, deserted. Although older and smaller than the newer vessels surrounding it, it maintains the dignified look of a ship that has worked hard for many years.

The service ship JS Akizuki was a destroyer with a standard displacement of 2350 tons, a top speed of 32 knots, and a complement of 330. Built at Mitsubishi’s Nagasaki Shipyard, it was delivered to the JMSDF on February 13, 1960. As the JMSDF’s first 2000-ton-class destroyer, it came well equipped with flagship facilities, serving as the fleet flagship for over 20 years. But its classification was changed to Service Ship at the end of fiscal year (FY) 1984 because of its age. The oldest ship in active service, whose life coincided with the JMSDF’s own expansion and development, JS Akizuki finished its service life on the day when the JMSDF ensign was returned. (The JS Teruzuki, another vessel of the same class and same vintage built by Mitsubishi’s Kobe Shipyard, was retired several months earlier.) Although the ensign return ceremony did not attract any media attention, JS Akizuki was a historic vessel that symbolized the US Navy’s role in the formation and development of the JMSDF.

According to Kaijō jieitai nijūgonen shi (The JMSDF’s 25-year history), which chronicles the history of the JMSDF, JS Akizuki and JS Teruzuki were financed through the Offshore Procurement Program in the US Navy’s construction budget for FY1957. Offshore procurement was a method in which the US government orders a vessel’s construction from a shipyard in Japan and, when completed, provides it directly to the JMSDF. The contract was concluded at the end of March 1957, after the United States notified the JMSDF of its offshore procurement policy, and the two governments discussed the details. Based on the contract, the US Navy ordered construction from Mitsubishi’s shipyards in Nagasaki and Kobe. Initially, these ships were registered as US Navy destroyers, and US Navy hull numbers were allocated: the Akizuki was DD-960, the Teruzuki was DD-961.

For the launching ceremony for JS Teruzuki on June 24, 1959, the wife of Captain Alexander C. Veasey, chief of the naval section of the Military Assistance Advisory Group, Japan, cut the ceremonial rope tethered to the ship as spectators observed, and the vessel slowly slid down the slipway. On June 26, the wife of Rear Admiral Frederic S. Withington, commander, US Naval Forces Japan, did the same for JS Akizuki. During the delivery ceremonies in February 1960, the shipyards first transferred the newly completed ships to the US Navy, which hoisted The Stars and Stripes. The US Navy, after lowering the US ensign, then handed the ships over to Japan. JMSDF personnel boarded, and the two vessels were commissioned with the JMSDF ensign newly hoisted. JMSDF ensigns would fly at the sterns of both ships, as symbols of Japan-US naval cooperation, for the next 33 years.

At the time, the Cold War was in full swing. It was an era when the US national objective was to enhance the strength of its allies as much as possible to confront communism. Providing the JMSDF with destroyers was in the national interest of the United States, and the country had money to spare. The US Congress, however, opposed the idea of using tax money paid by US citizens to procure equipment offshore to provide to foreign armed forces. Consequently, the offshore procurement of JS Akizuki and JS Teruzuki was the first and last instance of this practice.

In fact, it was the supreme commander of the US Navy, CNO Admiral Arleigh Burke, who promoted offshore procurement, despite domestic opposition, to improve the JMSDF’s equipment and to enhance Japan’s shipbuilding capability. That this method was adopted conveys the extraordinary goodwill Admiral Burke showed toward the JMSDF in its early days. Burke not only loaned 16 of the (then) latest P2V-7 antisubmarine patrol aircraft and 60 smaller S2F-1 antisubmarine patrol aircraft to the JMSDF without compensation, but also spared nothing in cooperating with the domestic production of the P2V-7 in Japan. There is reason enough for the JMSDF to remember Admiral Burke as its benefactor still to this day.

Fighting the IJN

Admiral Arleigh Burke, who served for an unprecedented three terms (6 years in total) as CNO starting in 1955, was born on a large farm at the foot of the Rocky Mountains in 1901. According to Burke’s biography, written by Professor Emeritus E. B. Potter of the US Naval Academy, his paternal grandfather apprenticed with a baker and emigrated from Sweden to the United States in 1857. He changed his surname to Burke when he arrived in the United States, finding his American friends had trouble pronouncing his original surname, Björkgren. It was a common practice among immigrants at that time. He attached himself to a US cavalry unit as a cook and journeyed west, where he established a bakery in the pioneer town of Denver, Colorado. He had six children: four boys and two girls. His second son, Oscar, took up farming after trying his luck as a cowboy; Oscar’s first son was Arleigh. The future admiral grew up in a family of solid frontier farmers who made their living through hard labor.

The Burkes could not afford to pay tuition and other fees to send their son to college. So, Burke initially set his eyes on the United States Military Academy at West Point, where the students received free board and tuition. However, a nomination by a member of the US Congress was needed to take an entrance examination. Unfortunately, the district’s congressman had already decided whom to nominate. Changing his mind, Burke decided to apply to the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. Luckily for him, the district’s nomination to Annapolis for that year became vacant, and he took and passed the examination. If he had gone to West Point, he would not have succeeded as a naval officer in later years. Burke said he had never regretted entering the Navy. Arriving at the academy after crossing the continent by train, Burke enrolled at the Academy as one of 709 new students in June 1919.

As a Naval Academy student—called a midshipman—Burke was in no sense a standout. Being a country boy educated at a small-town high school might have been a handicap. However, he absorbed and mastered the lessons the long-established Naval Academy taught him. At the academy, midshipmen were taken on an annual summer cruise. The academy’s main entrance faces the sea, just like in Etajima. A training squadron, consisting of a few battleships, appears out in the Chesapeake Bay; with the midshipmen on board, they weigh anchor for a long-distance training cruise—no different from the IJN or the JMSDF. For Burke, the destination of the first cruise in the summer after his plebe year was to Hawaii via the Panama Canal; the second was to Europe; the third, to the Caribbean Sea and Halifax, Canada.

After 4 years training as a future naval officer at the Academy and at sea, Burke graduated from the Naval Academy on June 7, 1923, tossing his midshipman coverFootnote 2 in the air alongside his classmates. He was 71st in a class of 413. Considering that the approximately 700 midshipmen at enrollment had been reduced to about 400 by graduation, it was a very respectable standing. That afternoon in the Academy Chapel, he married Roberta “Bobbie” Gorsuch, whom he had been dating since his first year. The bride and groom walked out of the chapel under an arch of swords created by his classmates. Thereafter, Arleigh and Bobbie went on to enjoy 72 years of harmonious married life.

Although he made little impression at the academy, Burke quickly distinguished himself after being commissioned. His first duty was aboard the battleship USS Arizona. The young officer attracted the attention of his superiors by perfectly carrying out tough onboard assignments and being inherently fit and eager. Burke served on that ship for 5 years, an exceptionally long period without a change of duty. Seeing his tremendous, incessant work ethic, one of his shipmates remarked, “Arleigh Burke will be dead before he’s 50, or he’ll be the chief of naval operations.”

Whenever USS Arizona moved from port to port, Bobbie also traveled by land to find accommodation and welcome her husband. It was a time before the development of regular air service. There is a saying: “Behind every strong sailor, there is an even stronger woman who stands behind him, supports him, and loves him with all her heart.” Bobbie Burke was a model navy wife. While her husband was off fighting, at sea for a long time, or serving overseas, Bobbie looked after the family without a murmur of complaint.

It appears that Burke grew interested in Japan at around this time. In 1929, after completing a series of duties in the fleet, Burke returned to Annapolis to attend the Naval Postgraduate School. He then studied chemistry for a year at the University of Michigan. One day, a fellow student asked Burke why the walls of his office were plastered with maps of the Pacific and Asia. “One day, my friend,” Burke replied, “our country will be at war with Japan. In that conflict it will be my mission to do my bit for my country in that theater of operations. When that time comes, I intend to know that area of the world as intimately as possible.” A decade after Burke successfully graduated from the University of Michigan with a Master of Science degree, war broke out between the two countries, as he had predicted.

It was only after his extensive actions in the Solomon Sea during the war that Burke’s name became known at home and abroad. He had been serving in Washington, D.C. at the outbreak of the Pacific War, but after making numerous requests to serve in the fleet, Burke finally sailed to the South Pacific as the commander of Destroyer Division 43 in February 1943. Following his promotion to the rank of captain, he was appointed commodore of Destroyer Squadron 23 in October. Arriving on his flagship USS Charles S. Ausburne at Espíritu Santo, he passed out a tactical doctrine he had prepared for the destroyer commanding officers assembled before him. The cover page read as follows:

If it will help kill Japs—it’s important.

If it will not help kill Japs—it’s not important.

Keep your ship trained for battle!

Keep your material ready for battle!

Keep your boss informed concerning your readiness for battle!

Leading a destroyer squadron nicknamed the “Little Beavers,” Burke first fought the Japanese fleet that showed up to prevent the US forces’ landing on Bougainville Island in the Battle of Empress August Bay (the Battle off Bougainville Island) before dawn on November 2, 1943. The Japanese lost the light cruiser HIJMS Sendai and the destroyer HIJMS Hatsukaze. According to the chapter on USS Charles S. Ausburne in Kōji Ishiwata’s book Meikan monogatari (Tales of famous warships), Burke’s flagship fought most gallantly at the spearhead of Task Force 39, persistently attacking the fleeing Japanese fleet to the end. Once again, before dawn on November 25, at the Battle of Cape St. George, New Ireland, his squadron rushed from the south in pursuit of an IJN destroyer squadron heading from Buka Island, north of Bougainville Island, to Rabaul on New Britain Island. When its radars picked up the enemy ships, Destroyer Squadron 23 fired simultaneous torpedoes from a distance of 6000 meters. Under this onslaught, the destroyer HIJMS Ōnami exploded and sank in minutes, soon followed by the destroyer HIJMS Makinami. The remaining three Japanese destroyers turned north and retaliated, launching torpedoes. Maneuvering the vessels skillfully, Burke evaded the attack and then sank the destroyer HIJMS Yūgiri with concentrated fire.

Incidentally, this was when Burke got the nickname “31-Knot Burke.” According to Potter’s Admiral Arleigh Burke, the US Navy South Pacific Command (SoPac) at Nouméa on New Caledonia obtained reliable intelligence by deciphering coded messages on November 24. The intelligence reported that a Japanese destroyer squadron had delivered troops to Buka and would transport aviation personnel from Buka to Rabaul that night. The person directing operations, substituting for SoPac Commander Admiral William F. Halsey, Jr., was Captain H. Ray Thurber, a friend of Burke’s. Thurber sent a coded message to Burke, who was heading north off Vella Lavella Island, south of Bougainville Island, asking the speed of the five destroyers under his command and their ETAFootnote 3 at the destination. “Proceeding at 31 knots,” Burke replied. (Some claim the reply read “Stand aside, stand aside, I’m coming through at 31 knots,” which is not mentioned in Potter’s biography.) In any case, Thurber replied with the instruction “31-Knot Burke, get athwart Buka-Rabaul evacuation line … If enemy contact, you know what to do.” The dispatch, signed “Halsey,” was leaked to reporters, which gave Burke worldwide celebrity status with this distinguished service.

Destroyers at the time could reach a speed of 35 knots, in fact. Thirty-one knots was a very moderate speed. There was one destroyer in Burke’s squadron, however, USS Spence, with an engine in poor condition that could make barely 31 knots with the boilers cross-connected. Burke only specified 31 knots because he had decided to take a chance and include USS Spence in the pursuit operation. Unaware of these facts, the public generally supposed that 31 knots meant high speed, and it became the symbol of Burke’s fighting spirit.

There was another coincidence in the Battle of Cape St. George. The commanding officer of HIJMS Ōnami, one of the destroyers that Burke’s squadron had sunk, was Commander Kiyoshi Kikkawa, who had rendered distinguished service as the commanding officer of the destroyer HIJMS Yūdachi during the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal in November 1942. Temporarily sent back to Yokosuka after the sinking of HIJMS Yūdachi in that battle, Commander Kikkawa declined the order to serve as a Naval Academy instructor and returned to the Solomon Sea as the commanding officer of the new destroyer HIJMS Ōnami. Then, the following year, he died at sea off Cape St. George in the darkness of night, receiving a one-sided preemptive attack by Burke’s squadron giving him no chance to retaliate. It is not known how Kikkawa died, for there were no survivors on HIJMS Ōnami. His extraordinary skills in ship handling and a fighting spirit comparable to Burke’s notwithstanding, Kikkawa was helpless in the face of the US Navy’s radar. Teiji Nakamura, who had served as the chief torpedo officer of HIJMS Yūdachi at the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal, admired Commander Kikkawa as a leader. It is such a curious turn of fate that Nakamura, as a senior JMSDF officer, would later meet Burke, the very person who killed Kikkawa, and be impressed with his character.

While serving as commodore of Destroyer Squadron 23, Burke achieved glorious military results, sinking a cruiser, nine destroyers, and a submarine, as well as shooting down 30 IJN aircraft in all. He would be transferred in March 1944, becoming chief of staff of the Fast Carrier Task Force (Task Force 58), and, as Admiral Marc A. Mitscher’s right-hand man, engage in fierce aerial warfare against the IJN through the end of the war—but that’s another story, one beyond the scope of this book.

Interaction with the Japanese

Burke came to Japan for the first time in September 1950, immediately after the Korean War began; he had been promoted to rear admiral after the end of World War II. Burke was asked by CNO Admiral Forrest P. Sherman personally to advise Vice Admiral C. Turner Joy, commander, NAVFE, as his deputy chief of staff, and to report the war situation on the Korean Peninsula directly to Washington.

Burke appears to have been unwilling to accept the mission at first. During the war, many of his friends and subordinates had lost their lives fighting Japanese forces. The battleship USS Arizona, sunk at Pearl Harbor, was the first ship Burke had joined after graduating from the Naval Academy. He had seen Japanese forces fire on US crewmembers of downed aircraft descending in parachutes. He had also read about the Bataan Death March and other examples of Japanese atrocities, and of course, he had been influenced by Admirals William Halsey and Marc Mitscher, both champion “Jap haters,” under whom he had served.

Burke wrote down his feelings toward the Japanese at the time. Few of his own writings remain, but he appears to have once thought about writing an autobiography. He was named “Swedish American of the Year” in 1968, and so a part of his draft autography was included in a Swedish-American society publication,Footnote 4 where Burke wrote:

On the way to Tokyo by plane, I suddenly realized the significance of the fact that our headquarters would be in Tokyo. I would probably have to have considerable dealings with the Japanese and from my experience in the last war, I did not like the Japanese a little bit even. I decided I would have as little contact with them as I could and would be exactly proper, cold, courteous, and distant.

On arriving in Tokyo on September 3, he settled in at the Imperial Hotel, which had been requisitioned as housing for US occupation personnel. The hotel staff were the first native Japanese with whom Burke had come in contact. As he was very busy, however, he had few occasions to exchange words with them. He left the hotel at 6:30 a.m. every morning and returned late at night, around 10 p.m. He did nothing there but sleep. The room was small, with only a small bed, a chair, and a dresser. It was somewhat dreary.

After a month or so, Burke bought a bunch of flowers from the florist in the hotel’s basement and put them in a drinking glass atop the dresser. When Burke came back from work the next night, the flowers had been very nicely arranged in a vase. The room was much more cheerful. After that, fresh flowers were added from time to time. Sometimes only a sprig, but always in a pleasant arrangement.

After several weeks, Burke went to the front desk and expressed thanks for the flowers in his room. But the front desk clerk said that they had not put them there; the Americans would not let them. He did not know who was putting flowers in Burke’s room, but he promised to investigate. A while later, it was discovered that a room maid had been doing it.

[The clerk] made arrangements for me to see her. She was an elderly little woman whose husband had been killed in the war. She spoke no English. I spoke no Japanese. I had to thank her through an interpreter.

Burke wanted to give her some money through the hotel, but they would not accept it. To reimburse her in some way would be a violation of Japanese etiquette. He should simply express his gratitude for her courtesy, they told him. Despite her meager wages, she bought flowers to make the room as comfortable as possible for a foreigner. He wanted to repay her thoughtfulness, but the hotel people could not understand him. In the end, they settled the matter by setting up a little retirement fund for her anonymously. “That little incident made me wonder if my dislike of the Japanese were sound,” Burke wrote.

UN forces in Korea were forced to retreat when Chinese forces entered the war in late November 1950; Burke went to the Korean Peninsula for inspection. The front line was cold, dirty, and muddy. There were no baths, no chance to shave, and little time to sleep. He returned to Tokyo a week later, exhausted. At check-in, he was assigned to a different room, which he did not mind at all. In his new room, he took off his muddy boots, removed his dirty frozen overcoat, and was just starting to undress to take a hot bath, when he heard a knock on the door. Opening it, he discovered a familiar young employee who worked on the floor where he had stayed previously.

After a few minutes exchanging the amenities while I was wondering why he had come to see me, he told me that he and the others were sorry I could not come home. Then it dawned on me that he was thinking of my old room as home and for some reason that I did not know about, I should have gone back to my old room. After much argument, much effort on my part, and much palaver of the room clerk’s part and mine too, I was able to get my old room assigned to me. When I went up to that old room, all the Japanese who worked on that floor were gathered there with a pot of tea to welcome me back home. Tired as I was, I nearly wept right there. There was not any American who welcomed me back or really cared whether I was back or not, but I felt then and still do, that those Japanese really did think I should be welcomed home and if nobody else would do it, they would.

As these memorable things frequently happened when he dealt with the Japanese, Burke wrote, he began to think they could not all be bad people.

Potter’s Admiral Arleigh Burke also depicts Burke’s interactions with the Japanese. At the NAVFE headquarters was Burke’s Naval Academy classmate, Captain Edward “Eddie” H. Pierce, who had participated in the Navy’s Japanese language program. Sent to Japan as a lieutenant junior grade by the US Navy before the war, Pierce had spent 3 years there, and so was familiar with the IJN officers. One day, he asked Burke if he remembered the name Jin’ichi Kusaka. Indeed, he did. Though he had never met the man, when Burke was fighting in the Solomon Sea as the commodore of a destroyer squadron, Kusaka had been his wartime enemy as the Japanese naval commander at Rabaul. Kusaka was the very person who had sent the aircraft and ships from Rabaul that killed his colleagues. In turn, Burke had had the satisfaction of destroying several of Kusaka’s ships. Pierce said that Kusaka had been purged from public office and was living in poverty. “He’s working on the railway, swinging a sledge. His wife’s selling flowers on a street corner. They’re starving. He won’t accept charity, but if you can arrange it, perhaps I can get food to him.” Burke replied to Pierce that he would do no such thing: “Let him starve.” As he contemplated the situation calmly, however, he thought it was preposterous that IJN admirals who had fought so gallantly for nearly 4 years were rewarded with hunger and the scorn of their fellow countrymen as soon as the war was over. Having reconsidered, Burke had a box of groceries delivered anonymously to the Kusakas.

A few days later the door to his office was flung open, and in stormed a little Japanese man shouting. It was Kusaka. Not knowing his intentions, Burke reached into a drawer for his pistol, thinking he would use it if he had to. Through a quickly summoned interpreter, Kusaka expressed his indignation: “I’ve been grossly insulted. I accept charity from no one, certainly not from Americans. I want nothing to do with Americans,” he concluded, and coldly stalked out. Burke was favorably impressed. Kusaka had done exactly what he would have done under the same circumstances.

Through Pierce, Burke invited Vice Admiral Jin’ichi Kusaka, Rear Admiral Sadatoshi Tomioka, and Vice Admiral Tsuneyoshi Sakano to dinner at the Imperial Hotel on December 26, 1950. The three former IJN admirals wore formal dress, now threadbare, and held themselves aloof. In their view, Pierce told Burke, they had been summoned by the occupying force, so they would keep their distance. Burke treated them to whiskey. Knowing that they had not been able to drink liquor for some time, out of consideration he had the whiskey poured in tiny sake cups. Although the guests initially declined the proffered drinks, they began to sip after Pierce remarked that refusal would be rude to the host.

They started feeling tipsy after a while. Eventually, the admirals were chattering away. It turned out they could all speak English, with Kusaka being the best of the three, having served as a naval attaché in London before the war. At the meal’s end, Burke rose and offered a toast to his guests. Kusaka then stood, raised his cup, and said:

I want to give a toast to our host, but not just to our host, who has been very kind to have us for this dinner. I want to give a toast also to the time when I failed to do my duty, because if I had done my duty, I would have killed our host, and then we would not have had this fine steak dinner tonight.

After they all drank to the toast, Burke added:

I would also like to propose a toast to the time when I also failed to do my duty, because if I had not failed to do my duty, I would have killed Admiral Kusaka, and therefore neither of us would have enjoyed this fine steak dinner.

Everybody laughed; the icy atmosphere had warmed completely. Thus, Potter wrote, “Arleigh’s war with the Japanese amicably concluded.”

It was IJN Admiral Kichisaburō Nomura (ret.), the ambassador to the United States on the eve of the war, who influenced Burke most significantly during his stay in Japan. Burke’s dealings with the hotel staff made him want to know more about Japan. What is the Japanese philosophy and reasoning? What impelled them to make banzai attacks? Why are the Japanese so polite and considerate of each other and of foreigners? How could they be such vicious fighters and yet so careful about the feelings of their associates? How are they different from the Chinese and Koreans? Is there anyone who can explain these matters? When Burke asked Captain Pierce, he recommended Nomura.

According to Burke’s own writing, Nomura at first invited Burke to his house, where he made him wear a Japanese kimono and sit on the tatami mat floor. Nomura brought out a map of Korea, laid it on his desk, and explained the history of Japanese rule in Korea and why it had not gone well. He then asked Burke to study the map for 15 minutes and remember as much as he could. After that time had elapsed, Nomura put the map away and instructed him to think about what he remembered, connecting those things with the current war. After about 15 minutes in silence, Burke moved his legs a little. Nomura asked, “What’s bothering you?”

I told him I was uncomfortable and that caused me to move. He said, “Ah, that is the first lesson. If you had really been concentrating, you would not have known you were uncomfortable and you would not have been uncomfortable.”

And so began the exchange between a retired old admiral from the vanquished country and a rear admiral with a promising future from the victorious country. Over the 9 months or so Burke stayed in Japan, he met Nomura about once a week when he had time to spare in his busy schedule. Nomura taught Burke the importance of factors constant across time, such as geography, weather, and national character. “Do you think China will enter the war if the UN forces approach the Yalu River?” Burke asked Nomura one day. “They’ll definitely come in, and [they’ll] do so in secret to launch a surprise attack,” Nomura replied, confidently. “Chinese Premier Chou En-lai [Zhou Enlai] issued a warning [using the Indian ambassador as his mouthpiece]. Nations are like wolves, they fight harder when they are pushed into a corner.”Footnote 5 Although Burke reported this to UN forces intelligence officers, nobody listened to him. And Nomura’s prediction turned out to be 100% accurate, Burke wrote.

In early May 1951, ordered to assume the post of commander of Cruiser Division 5, Burke flew to Pearl Harbor to join his flagship USS Los Angeles. The cruiser headed for the Sea of Japan and entered Japanese waters in June. Burke invited Nomura to a dinner party aboard his flagship. There is a photograph of Burke welcoming Nomura and shaking hands with him. In July, Burke left the fleet to participate in peace talks to end the Korean War as a member of the Military Armistice Commission. After completing the mission, he flew from Haneda to Washington, D.C. in December 1951. Let me quote Burke’s own words again.

I left Japan about 0200 on [one] December morning [in] 1951. There was nobody to see me off and I did not expect anybody. There was no reason why anybody should inconvenience himself so much by coming down to that airport in the middle of the night to see me off. The Japanese had very few cars and public transportation was just starting to get back on its feet. About 1330 [sic] much to my great amazement, in came Admiral Nomura, one of the great Japanese of all time. He was an old man in his 70’s by then and he had come part way by streetcar and part way by train and had walked several miles to come down to see me off. There are other reasons why I had great respect and admiration for him but that night he was typical of the Japanese I had met in the last two years, most of whom I had fought against. No American would be so considerate as that.

Their friendship continued even after Burke’s return to the United States. Nomura welcomed Burke when he came to Japan, while Burke entertained Nomura when he visited the United States. When Nomura’s eldest son and his wife studied abroad in the United States, the Burkes treated them well. In 1961, at 83 years of age, Nomura visited Washington, D.C. once again, saying, “I came here to say goodbye to everyone.” He stayed with Burke at the CNO’s official residence at the top of the hill northwest of the city. The future Chief of Maritime Staff (CMS) Suteo Ishida, then posted to Washington as defense attaché, greeted Nomura and accompanied him to the official residence. Though he had just been hospitalized for a complete physical examination, Burke slipped out of the hospital to await Nomura’s arrival. Ishida saw firsthand how, on arriving, Nomura shook hands affectionately with Burke, as though they embraced each other. Nomura said nothing in English to Burke. In Japanese, he greeted him, “Oh, Mr. Burke! It’s been a while,” while Burke listened to him, smiling.

Nomura passed away in 1964. In Burke’s foreword to Auer’s The Postwar Rearmament of Japanese Maritime Forces, 1945–71, he wrote: “When Admiral Nomura died in 1964 I lost one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

Burke and the Founding of the JMSDF

During his stay in Japan, Burke played a significant role in the creation of the Coastal Safety Force, the JMSDF’s predecessor. The IJN had been disbanded after Japan’s defeat, yet naval leadership, spearheaded by men who had favored cooperating with Britain and America before the war, was hoping to rebuild the navy. A plan to rebuild the navy was discussed in secret within the Second Demobilization Ministry, which replaced the disbanded Ministry of the Navy. For a while after the war, however, resurrecting the navy was no more than a pipedream. Even when the MSA was established in May 1948, and its patrol boats began to maintain order at sea with the minimum armaments allowed, the Soviet Union was opposed to it, claiming that it would lead to the IJN’s revival. Representatives of the United Kingdom, China, and Australia expressed their wariness at the Allied Council for Japan and the Far Eastern Committee at around the same time. The Government Section, GHQ opposed it, too, at the beginning.

The US Navy stationed in postwar Japan often invited Mitsumasa Yonai, Katsunoshin Yamanashi, Kichisaburō Nomura, and other former members of the navy men of good senseFootnote 6 to functions and treated them very respectfully. The Japanese and US Navies had a history of meaningful interaction prior to the war. For example, back in 1929, when Nomura in his capacity as commander of the Training Squadron visited the flagship of the United States Fleet USS Texas, the commander in chief, United States Fleet was Admiral William V. Pratt. Vice Admiral Russell S. Berkey, who had been Pratt’s aide-de-camp back then, went on to serve in East Asia as commander, NAVFE, and commander, US Seventh Fleet, from July 1948 until his retirement on September 1, 1950.Footnote 7 In the wake of the Shanghai Incident of 1931–1932, Pratt, who had become CNO, had dinner with Captain Shōsuke Shimomura, the naval attaché in Washington, D.C. At the dinner, Pratt asked why the IJN was not sending Nomura to Shanghai. Shimomura sent a telegram to the Ministry of the Navy at once to report the US Navy’s feelings on the matter. The naval leadership in Tokyo respected the US wishes and dispatched Nomura to Shanghai. As a result, the Shanghai Incident had no negative influence on Japan-US relations. Thus, the Japanese and US Navies kept in close contact with each other.

Because of these prewar connections, Nomura brought up the vision of rebuilding the Japanese Navy whenever he met his friends from the US Navy, including Vice Admiral Berkey. While they were sympathetic, nothing came of it. Notwithstanding the friendship between the nations’ naval officers, Americans were not seriously considering Japan’s rearmament just yet.

The US attitude began to change gradually around the outbreak of the Korean War. According to Auer’s research, the US National Security Council had decided to secretly enhance Japan’s military capacity in late 1948; it sent a Japanese American civilian to the NAVFE headquarters the following year. Twice a week, this person would meet former IJN Captain Kō Nagasawa, who would become the second CMS, and, in Japanese, ask former IJN officers about intelligence matters and their ideas on rearmament.

When the Korean War broke out in June 1950, General of the Army Douglas MacArthur sent a letter to the Japanese government, instructing them to create the National Police Reserve and to expand the number of MSA personnel by 8000. Then, in the fall, at a cocktail party to which Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida invited American dignitaries, Vice Admiral Turner Joy, commander, NAVFE, said to Nomura, “There are 18 frigates (PFs) that the Soviet Union has returned to the United States. Those ships could be made available to Japan.” At around the same time, soon after his arrival in Japan, Burke told Director General Ōkubo of the MSA, “We’re going to get the frigates back that we lent to the Soviet Union, so we can provide them for MSA missions. You should look into ways to use them.”

That winter, delighted with the actions of the Japanese minesweepers in Korean waters, Burke recommended that Ōkubo visit Washington, D.C. to make an appeal for strengthening the MSA. Ōkubo followed his advice, visiting Washington in January 1951. At the Pentagon, he asked about abolishing the restrictions on the speed and size of patrol boats (maximum 15 knots and 1500 tons), permitting guns to be loaded on the ships, providing US frigates, and allowing Japan to possess aircraft to locate floating mines. Because Burke had paved the way for Ōkubo, all his requests were granted.

John Foster Dulles, a consultant to the US Secretary of State and personal representative of President Truman, visited Japan in June 1950 to discuss a peace treaty and rearmament with Prime Minister Yoshida. Seeing as Burke was supporting Ōkubo’s plan to strengthen the MSA, the Americans did not intend to establish a separate Japanese maritime force at that time. The plans for rearmament appeared to focus on the enhancement of land forces.

The former IJN leaders who hoped to rebuild the navy were increasingly worried about these developments. IJN Vice Admiral Zenshirō Hoshina (ret.), whose stance was similar to Nomura’s, had served as the last chief of the Naval Affairs Bureau under Minister of the Navy Mitsumasa Yonai; he left a memoir titled “Waga shin-kaigun saiken no kei’i (The circumstances of the rebuilding of our new navy).” According to his memoir, a movement for rearmament emerged as the Korean War broke out. “According to what we heard about US intentions, they were apparently pursuing a policy of rebuilding only the army, while taking on the responsibilities of the naval and air forces themselves. There was a danger that this could lead to a repetition of the bitter history of the Meiji and Shōwa eras, where the army acted without consulting the navy. Since it was deemed necessary to make the US understand the importance of rebuilding the land, naval, and air forces simultaneously, we endeavored to launch a campaign for that purpose.”

On January 17, 1951, Hoshina called on Nomura at his house and expressed his concerns. Nomura revealed that he had been trying to set up a meeting with Dulles, who was to revisit Japan soon. Hoshina promised Nomura that he would prepare a memorandum for Dulles containing proposals on rebuilding the navy.

To lay the groundwork, Nomura first visited C. Turner Joy, commander, NAVFE, on January 22 to show him the plan to rebuild the navy. This plan was based on the study materials on rearmament created the previous October by former IJN personnel now within the Ministry of Health and Welfare.Footnote 8 According to the study materials, the new force was to have two branches, the Land Force and the Sea Force, with the maritime force comprising a total of 275 vessels and 210,000 tons, including two cruisers and 13 destroyers, along with about 34,000 personnel. Joy was surprised by the scale of the rebuilding plan presented to him. He stated that, although the GHQ had entrusted him with the rebuilding of a Japanese Navy, the US Navy was planning to secure the command of the sea in the Western Pacific by itself and had no intention of leaving the area. He had been considering that the size of the rebuilt Japanese navy ought to be something like a coast guard, centered around the frigates then anchored at Yokosuka. At Nomura’s proposal to have the planners explain the details further, Joy brought up Burke’s name and arranged an introduction.

Nomura chose Hoshina to explain the plans to Burke; Hoshina shared the rebuilding plan with his old friend, Captain Eddie Pierce, and asked him about the character of Rear Admiral Burke. “He’s a fighting officer, sincere and able, with a good reputation among his classmates,” Pierce explained. He then called Burke to introduce Hoshina, saying, “I’ve known Hoshina for 20 years. He can be trusted; he has a good reputation within and outside the navy. You should have an open discussion with him.” Pierce played a critical role at every juncture in the history of the creation of the Coastal Safety Force.

Hoshina and Burke officially met for the first time on January 23. According to Hoshina, Burke treated him extremely well. Hoshina showed Burke the rebuilding plan. This time, the scale was greater than in the study material created by the Demobilization Bureau: the plan called for an Air-Sea ForceFootnote 9 of 341 vessels and 292,000 tons in total, including four escort carriers, eight submarines, and four cruisers, as well as 750 aircraft. Though it was not comparable to the prewar navy, the Japanese were aiming for a full-scale navy.

Burke responded with some comments: “Explain why Japan needs the Air-Sea Force. State a practical plan to establish a navy. The US Navy, for its part, proposes that the US Department of the Navy will hand over the frigates anchored at Yokosuka as soon as possible. Describe the navy’s mission more specifically. Explain why you need well-trained officers at sea. Write the reasons clearly, because civilians do not understand it well.” These were all useful suggestions, and Burke’s reaction was generally favorable. On January 29, Hoshina brought Burke a revised plan with a map of force distribution. After reading through the revised plan, Burke praised it, calling it “excellent and perfect.” When Hoshina reported Burke’s reaction to Nomura, he was very pleased.

Nomura initially could not meet with Ambassador Dulles on his visit to Japan in late January. So he wrote a private letter, enclosed the revised plan to rebuild the navy, and gave it to Dulles’s assistant, Robert A. Fearey. Nomura felt a bit uneasy, seeing no US Navy representative in Dulles’s entourage and knowing that Dulles was only considering the army’s reestablishment. When he met Dulles at a cocktail party at Ambassador William J. Sebald’s residence on February 3, however, Nomura was pleased to be thanked for the revised plan. The revised plan was also handed to Prime Minister Yoshida on February 9.

Later, Hoshina met Burke and expressed his concerns that Ambassador Dulles appeared to be considering a land force only. Burke said that the special envoy would not be able to cover the details of rearmament, but that there had been no objection when Burke told U. Alexis Johnson, a member of Dulles’s entourage, that an island nation like Japan required a navy and naval air corps for national defense, just like the United Kingdom. He further indicated that Nomura’s revised plan had been sent on, under Vice Admiral Joy’s name, to CNO Sherman, who had already concurred, and there would be a reply through an official route. He added, “I submitted a memorandum to the chief of naval operations arguing for the rebuilding of a proper Japanese navy based on mutual trust, with the fundamental idea that it would be beneficial to both the United States and Japan.”

According to Auer’s study, Burke temporarily returned to Washington, D.C. in March and met with CINCPACFLT Admiral Arthur W. Radford to discuss lending Japan the frigates the Soviets had returned. From Washington, Burke wrote to inform Vice Admiral Joy in Tokyo that he had stressed to Admiral Radford the eventual need for a Japanese Navy and expressed his belief that the Japanese should start with minesweepers and patrol craft. He also likely discussed the matter with CNO Sherman during his stay in Washington.

Back in Tokyo, Burke communicated on March 31, to Hoshina and others, Sherman’s intention that the US Navy would support the Nomura-Burke plan, provided that the Japanese government concurred with Nomura’s revised plan. Japan’s Ministry of Finance did not agree, however, mentioning the problem of maintenance costs after the establishment of a navy. From their position in charge of state finances, they must have thought that Japan would hardly be able to maintain a navy. Hence, the US Navy’s favorable response came to nothing. “It was most regrettable, looking ahead to the future of our country,” Hoshina wrote.

Despite this, Burke continued his ardent support for the activities of Nomura and others. When he and Pierce had a friendly talk with Nomura at Hoshina’s house on April 3, Burke stated, “I have submitted a plan to the Department of the Navy to send around ten suitable naval officers to build the Japanese Navy. If this is agreed to, Vice Admiral Joy will discuss with General of the Army MacArthur how to create a department with Japanese ex-naval officers to plan and train jointly, which would become the basis of the future Ministry of the Navy. Soon I’ll leave Japan to become commodore of a cruiser division, and I’ll return to Washington in the fall. Then I’ll keep trying to push the plan through at the Department of the Navy.”

A little earlier, Burke had asked the Japanese to submit “a study of a structure to plan and execute the duties of shipping escort, coastal patrol, minesweeping, and protection of fishing boats.” In response, on April 18 Nomura presented Joy with the results of the Second Special Study Material, which had just been drawn up in the Demobilization Bureau; Hoshina presented it to Burke. This study material called for the establishment of a nucleus for a future air-sea force set up by temporarily lending ships, aircraft, weapons, and ammunition from the United States, which would be supported by personnel, pay, and non-munition logistics supplied by Japan. It put forward three possible ways of achieving the plan: first, as an independent organization with the nature of an armed force; second, as an external bureau of the MSA; or third, as an organization that would operate under the command of the US NAVFE. Of the three, the first option was ideal, the third was the least preferred, and the second was the most feasible. The Japanese side stressed that if an independent organization was established, it should not be in contradiction to the Constitution; it should be officially recognized by foreign powers—at least by the West; it should be approved by the Diet; it should be an independent and autonomous Japanese organization; and it should be able to employ former naval officers. Also, an especially close liaison between the organization and the US Navy should be maintained by sending liaison staff to work with the US forces and by creating a Joint Japanese-US Research Commission.

Burke was very impressed by the new Japanese plan, and on April 22 sent a seven-page letter along with the plan to Rear Admiral James H. Thatch, Jr., the director of the International Affairs Division of the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, asking Thatch to brief CNO Sherman on it. In the letter, Burke said, “I feel that the problem must be faced directly some day and that the sooner it is faced the greater the probable benefit to the United States.” On the three Japanese options, he stated, “The Japanese Navy need not be called a navy. It can be called a coast guard or a sea police force or anything else.” It would be best, he said, to establish a Japan-US joint study group comprising four or five US naval officers and about ten Japanese ex-naval officers and let them study, plan, and direct the initiation of a small Japanese navy. “This Japanese contingent would become the nucleus of the Japanese Navy Department. This joint group, at that stage, could then, as a first step, establish a small seagoing force perhaps of not over half a dozen patrol craft and a small officer and enlisted man training school.”

After assisting up to that point, Burke left Tokyo in early May because he had been appointed commander of Cruiser Division 5. In September, the Treaty of Peace with Japan and the Japan-US Security Treaty were signed in San Francisco. During his visit to GHQ on October 19, Prime Minister Yoshida officially told General Matthew B. Ridgway, SCAP, that Japan would accept the frigates moored at Yokosuka. (These were the vessels returned by the Soviet Union that had been offered to Nomura and Ōkubo a year earlier.) The day after the Ridgeway-Yoshida meeting, Chief Cabinet Secretary Katsuo Okazaki invited IJN Rear Admiral Yoshio Yamamoto (ret.) and the MSA’s second director general Yonekichi Yanagisawa to the prime minister’s official residence. Okazaki told them to organize a committee of ten members, including eight former naval officers and two from the MSA, that would advise the government on how to accept the loaned vessels and how to establish the institutions to operate them.

Thus, the “Y Committee” was established. The committee discussed numerous times whether the new organization would be established independently from the MSA. In April 1952, the Coastal Safety Force was established, for the moment as an organization attached to the MSA. In August, it became independent of the MSA, and became the Safety Security Force, part of the National Safety Agency, along with the National Police Reserve. The Safety Security Force absorbed the MSA’s Fairway Safety Office, the minesweeping forces that operated successfully in Korean waters. Then, the Safety Security Force made a fresh start as the JMSDF in July 1954, thus taking the first steps on the path to rebuilding the navy that Nomura and others had dreamed of.

Needless to say, the creation of the JMSDF was not achieved through Burke’s goodwill alone. Japanese and US personnel held negotiations among themselves, each hoping to fulfill their own motives. Moreover, a shift was underway in international politics. To begin with, after the successful operations of the Japanese minesweepers in Korean waters, for a while Burke backed Director General Ōkubo, who was trying to strengthen the MSA. There was also discussion in the United States as to what the nature of the Japanese maritime forces should be in the future, and the US Coast Guard personnel supported the enhancement of the MSA. Burke was directly involved in the movement to rebuild the navy for only 4 months, from January to April 1951; he had already left Japan when the Y Committee held its meetings.

Ever since first meeting Hoshina in early 1951, Burke had consistently supported the establishment of a maritime force separate from the MSA. According to Hoshina’s memoir, Burke often stated that the enhancement of the coast guard would not lead to the rebuilding of the navy. Yet Burke did not recommend the establishment of a full-scale navy as contemplated by Nomura and Hoshina. He appeared to be considering building a much smaller navy, and the newly established Coastal Safety Force was indeed very modest in size.

Nevertheless, the plans of Hoshina and others to rebuild an independent navy could not have materialized without Burke, who listened favorably to their proposal and communicated it to US Navy leadership in Washington. Japan might have ended up with the MSA only. Although the Y Committee ultimately decided on the shape that the Coastal Safety Force would take, Burke’s contribution was significant in terms of paving the way for the committee.

Contributing to the formation of the Coastal Safety Force was a fond memory for Burke, too. Burke himself remembered the circumstances thus:

[During discussions with naval personnel] I expressed the view that Japan ought to have a navy of sufficient size to protect the Japan homeland and her essential sea lines of communications. I made that argument not for the good of Japan but for the good of the United States. It was to the best interests of the free world and of the United States that Japan should be able to protect herself because the time would soon come when the United States would not be able to protect Japan. I believed that the United States and Japan should be friends and allies. … [Any] nation who can contribute to the betterment of the world needs to be strong economically, militarily, and politically, meaning in the ability to influence other nations. All three are needed. No nation should be absolutely dependent on any other nation or she will either become an adjunct to the strong nation or she will not contribute to improving anything.

Also, in his foreword to Kaijō jieitai nijūgo-nen shi, Burke stated: “Among the most gratifying experiences I have ever had were the discussions on the essentials of a suitable sea-going protective force with men for whom I had come to have the highest esteem and respect. Men such as Admiral Kichisaburō Nomura, Admiral Zenshirō Hoshina, Admiral Kō Nagasawa, Admiral Sadayoshi Nakayama, and Mr. Takeo Ōkubo.”

Furthermore, his foreword to Auer’s The Postwar Rearmament of Japanese Maritime Forces, 1945–71 stated:

Since the most important elements of any military force are the attitude and ability of its senior officers, I suggested that the most important first step that Japan could take was the election of ten—and only ten—of the very best officers from the old Imperial Japanese Navy to start its new navy. Japan did this, and because it did the Japanese Navy today is excellent.

It is for this reason that Burke is regarded as one of the key advocates and supporters for founding the JMSDF.

Death of the Old Sailor

Burke was appointed CNO in 1955, after he left Japan. It was an exceptional promotion, leapfrogging him over 92 flag officers senior to him. During his term as CNO, Burke continued to be generous and helpful toward Japan and the JMSDF. Not only did he support enhancing the JMSDF equipment by providing vessels and aircraft, but he also launched a course at the US Naval War College that accepted foreign naval officers. Future JMSDF leaders such as Kazuomi Uchida and Teiji Nakamura studied in Newport through this program. Burke visited Japan numerous times and renewed his friendship with Japanese acquaintances, including Nomura. When the crown prince and princess of Japan visited Washington, D.C. in September 1960 to commemorate the centenary of Japan-US diplomatic relations, he went to meet them at Washington National Airport. There is a photograph that captures the young crown prince reading out an official statement at the airport and standing just behind him, watching over the royal couple, is the only member of the armed forces personnel, a tall, uniformed Burke.

After serving an unprecedented three terms—6 years—as CNO, Burke retired in August 1961. President John F. Kennedy asked him to serve another term, in fact, but he declined, retiring to make room for the younger generation.

Even after his retirement, Burke’s relationship with the JMSDF did not fade. During the JMSDF Training Squadron’s visits to the East Coast, he visited the training ships on request, five times in total, and gave lectures to the newly commissioned officers (ensigns). A commander of the Training Squadron once made the new ensigns submit essays on their impressions of the overseas training cruise on the return journey to Japan. One of them wrote, “Why are there no great admirals like him?” baffling the instructors.

As an aside, during the war, Burke’s destroyer squadron discovered and sank the large IJN tugboat Nagaura, which was withdrawing from Rabaul with aviators. The Nagaura’s captain, refusing to surrender, fought back with machine guns against all odds and lost his life when his ship sank; Burke, praising the courage of her skipper, had offered a minute of silent prayer with the rescued Japanese prisoners aboard his ship. On learning this, the members of Rabauru Kai (Naval Rabaul Association) were deeply moved and invited Burke to their meeting. Former IJN Vice Admiral Kusaka, who presided over the Rabauru Kai and who had fought in the Solomon Sea, also invited Burke to speak to bereaved families at Yasukuni Shrine.

To acknowledge Burke’s contributions to the JMSDF, its chiefs of staff paid him a courtesy call whenever they visited the United States. Furthermore, successive defense attachés sent flowers to his home on his birthday every year. In his last years, Burke joked that the JMSDF valued him more than the US Navy did. Likewise, IJN Admiral Katsunoshin Yamanashi, who had impressed British naval officers with his performance at the London Naval Conference in 1930, was treated very well by successive British naval attachés in Tokyo after the war. Such actions are part of the naval culture that is shared across countries.

In September 1989, Mrs. Bobbie Burke, with her husband at her side, broke a bottle of champagne and launched the Aegis guided-missile destroyer USS Arleigh Burke. Burke was the third person to have a ship named after him during his lifetime, and the first to attend the launch ceremony in person.

Burke developed pneumonia and passed away quietly on January 1, 1996 at Bethesda Naval Hospital on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. He was 94 years old. The Washington Post reported his death on the front page. The funeral was performed in the Naval Academy Chapel where he had married Bobbie on his graduation day. The funeral was attended by President William J. “Bill” Clinton, who sat next to Mrs. Burke, as well as representatives from all parts of society, including the secretary of the navy and the CNO, Burke’s Naval Academy classmates, and his brothers-in-arms—all mourning the death of a hero. The president ordered that all Arleigh Burke-class destroyers and Destroyer Squadron 23, Burke’s old squadron, that were at sea were to steam at 31 knots for 5 minutes starting at noon that day.

Among the few Japanese attending Burke’s funeral was Suteo Ishida, the former CMS who paid his respects as the representative of the JMSDF. Ishida had been posted to Washington, D.C. as defense attaché during Burke’s last term as CNO, and met him often, even after Burke’s retirement. Having received the JMSDF’s request for their attendance, Ishida and his wife flew to Washington in haste to attend the wake, which was held at a funeral home near the hospital. They were led before the coffin by an escort officer. Burke’s face in death was noble and full of dignity. Ishida bowed, then looking inside the coffin, noticed that a bright red sash lay across Burke’s chest. Standing on tiptoe, he discovered that it was the Grand Cordon of the Order of the Rising Sun, first class, which the Japanese government had presented to Burke in 1961. Burke did not appear to be wearing any other medals. Medals from other foreign nations were lined up on a table outside the coffin. When he asked Burke’s aide about it, he learned that it had been Burke’s wish to wear the Japanese medal.

In fact, Burke had lost the medal once: it had been stolen while on display somewhere. On hearing of Burke’s anguish about the loss, JMSDF personnel asked for donations, collecting about a million yen in no time. At their request, the Decoration Bureau of the Prime Minister’s Office reissued the medal, and it was sent to the United States. Burke was extremely grateful for this gesture.

At the funeral the next day, Ishida could not confirm if the medal was still on Burke’s chest as the lid of the coffin was already closed. When I visited the National Museum of the US Navy in Washington, D.C., however, the display on Burke had a row of medals from various countries except the one from Japan, so I guess it was buried with him.

After the service at the Naval Academy Chapel, Burke’s coffin was transferred to the Naval Academy Cemetery on a caisson drawn by six black horses. Crewmembers of the Aegis ship USS Arleigh Burke were among the funeral procession. At the grave, the coffin was buried underground after a 19-gun salute, three rifle volleys by sailors, and a flyover by four F-14 fighters in missing man formation (Fig. 5.1).

Fig. 5.1
A photo of naval officers in uniform standing at a war memorial in front of the tombstone of Captain Admiral Arleigh Burke.

JMSDF Training Squadron members lay a wreath to honor Admiral Arleigh Burke during their visit to Annapolis. (Photo credit: JMSDF)

Full size image

Burke now rests in peace on the grounds of his beloved Naval Academy, a medal on his chest awarded by Japan, his onetime enemy, a country whose JMSDF he helped to establish. The tombstone is large, befitting the man’s greatness. Its upper half depicts the Aegis ship USS Arleigh Burke. Inscribed below are Burke’s name, “United States Navy,” “Sailor,” and the dates of his birth and death; beneath which appears his wife’s name, the “Sailor’s Wife” who outlived him.