Encounter with Ichirō Masuoka

One of the many Japanese whom Auer became acquainted with was known as “Mr. Navy.” This man, Ichirō Masuoka, served for many years as private secretary and the household manager for the official residence of the Speaker of the House of Representatives. Auer remembers meeting Masuoka in the fall of 1970, either in September or October, when he started his research in Japan on the formation of the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force (JMSDF). He was chatting with some people in the lounge of the Sannō HotelFootnote 1 where he was staying, when Masuoka just happened to pass by. Commander Alan H. Bath, an assistant naval attaché at the US embassy in Tokyo who knew Masuoka, introduced him to Auer, remarking that the Japanese man was a big fan of the IJN. Auer called Masuoka a few days later and they met again the following week for dinner at the hotel, where they were joined by Lieutenant Commander Yasuaki Imaizumi, an aide-de-camp to Chief of Maritime Staff (CMS) Kazuomi Uchida, and Lieutenant Akira Tamai, who was taking care of Auer at Uchida’s behest. Masuoka kept talking about the navy, especially the IJN. When Auer praised him, saying “Mr. Masuoka, you know all about the navy, more than anybody I’ve ever met,” Lieutenant Commander Imaizumi interjected, “Mr. Auer, now you know why we call him ‘Mr. Navy.’”

After that, Auer often sought Masuoka’s help as he continued his research. In January 1971 Masuoka introduced Auer to his boss, Naka Funada, the Speaker of the House of Representatives. Raymond Y. Aka of the Mutual Defense Assistance Office, a Japanese American, served as interpreter. Aka also had many connections among former IJN officers, several of whom he introduced to Auer. At that first meeting with Funada, no important issues were raised.

Masuoka also introduced Auer to former IJN Rear Admiral Jitsue Akishige, an influential member of the Y Committee who had discussed the formation of the Coastal Safety Force. Masuoka brought Auer to the rear admiral’s house in Hinoki-chō, Akasaka. Akishige drew forth the straw paper-wrapped records of the Y Committee from a chest and lent them to Auer for a month. He became good friends with Auer, inviting him to his house to celebrate the New Year in 1971 and to share his family’s traditional New Year’s dishes. As Masuoka was absent, they had to communicate in German (Akishige had served as the naval attaché in Germany before the war). At Akishige’s urging, Auer tried eating a fish’s eye for the first time, but he lost his nerve and swallowed it down with sake in one gulp. Masuoka had been amused to hear this story, and he often brought it up afterward.

It was also Masuoka who had introduced Auer to then Lower House Member Takeo Ōkubo, the MSA’s former director general. Before the war, Masuoka’s father, Commander Hozumi Eguchi, had accompanied Ōkubo (a director at the Ministry of Communications at that time) on his flight to Tehran for the Iranian crown prince’s wedding celebration in 1939 aboard the Soyokaze, an Imperial Japanese Airways passenger plane, presumably a remodeled Mitsubishi G3M (Type 96 Rikkō). At Rear Admiral Arleigh Burke’s request, Ōkubo told Auer the circumstances behind the dispatch of Japanese minesweepers to Korean waters during the Korean War.

Masuoka also brought Auer to a reunion of his father’s Naval Academy classmates. One such classmate (although it was not Masuoka who introduced the two) was former IJN Captain Atsushi Ōi, famous for being the IJN’s top US expert, who kept company with Auer for many years afterward. In this way, having many acquaintances within the IJN and the JMSDF, Masuoka soon became indispensable to Auer’s study. Through Masuoka, Auer gained many new acquaintances.

On the back cover of Yomigaeru nihon kaigun, the translation of Auer’s doctoral dissertation, is a photo of the tall Lieutenant Commander James Auer in uniform standing between Yoshio Yamamoto and Jitsue Akishige, both former rear admirals and members of the Y Committee. Masuoka, who had a taste for photography and brought a camera wherever he went, took the photograph during a party held at the Sannō Hotel in early 1971, to which Auer invited those who helped him with his research. When the book was completed, Senoo, the translator, and Jiji Tsushin, the publisher, hosted a book launch to which many people were invited, again at the Sannō Hotel. It was reportedly a grand party, bringing together not only those who cooperated with Auer’s research, but many Japanese and US Navy personnel, too.

Many people assisted in Auer’s research. Before Auer’s arrival in Japan, CNO Admiral Elmo Zumwalt wrote him a letter of introduction to CMS Uchida. Although it was Auer himself who prepared the draft, the letter unlocked the JMSDF’s full cooperation. Auer wrote a letter of thanks to Zumwalt soon after beginning his research in Japan.

Surprisingly, he received a reply before long. The letter, probably also written by a subordinate, contained some kind words: “I have a keen interest in the relationship with the JMSDF, and I consider Japan a country of great value for the United States. Please let me know the progress of your research. Don’t hesitate to let me know if there is anything I can do to be of help.”

Deeply touched, Auer subsequently sent two letters to update the CNO on his progress. Then, before temporarily returning to the United States upon completing his research, he told Admiral Zumwalt of the extraordinary kindness CMS Uchida had shown him. In the same letter, Auer mentioned Masuoka: “There is a Masuoka who serves as a private secretary to Speaker of the House of Representatives Naka Funada. This person is profoundly knowledgeable about the navy, and mediates between Funada and the US Navy. He also helped me a lot with my research. Incidentally, Funada and Masuoka visited the battleship USS New Jersey that called at Japan last year. To mark the visit, the commanding officer gave Funada a commemorative shield, but Masuoka only got a lighter. Masuoka collects US Navy commemorative shields. Could you award him a USS New Jersey shield for helping me with research? He is called Mr. Navy. He would be very pleased if you could engrave the shield ‘From Mr. Navy of the United States to Mr. Navy of Japan.’”

A lieutenant commander asking the Navy’s supreme commander for a favor! Auer sometimes seems quite bold this way. When he mentioned Mr. Navy, Auer must have recalled what Lieutenant Commander Imaizumi had told him at that first dinner gathering. In Japan, just as Shigeo Nagashima of the Yomiuri Giants baseball team was called “Mr. Giants,” it is not uncommon to give someone a nickname by adding “Mr.” before the thing associated with him. Auer proposed, without too much thought, that Admiral Zumwalt use the nickname as a gesture of goodwill to Masuoka.

After a while, Masuoka received a USS New Jersey shield through the US naval attaché in Tokyo, along with a letter from Admiral Zumwalt. On the shield were engraved the exact words Auer had asked for. For the CNO, making an arrangement like this was no problem at all.

Regardless of the circumstances, Masuoka was extremely happy to be called “Mr. Navy” by the CNO. It is no wonder that he felt as though the US Navy’s highest-ranking officer had officially recognized his role. Thereafter, Masuoka began to hand out new business cards with “Mr. Navy” proudly printed on them. For Admiral Zumwalt, it might have been a mere token of goodwill at Auer’s suggestion, but the nickname became official before anyone knew it. And that is how there came to be the only Japanese who could freely visit US naval bases and introduce himself as “Mr. Navy.”

Masuoka and the Navy

Masuoka’s bond with the navy dated back to a time long before he received his nickname. You might even say that he was born with this bond. His father was Commander Hozumi Eguchi of the Naval Academy’s 51st class (Class of 1922). This class went on an overseas training cruise to Australia and New Zealand in 1923, the year of the Great Kanto Earthquake. His classmates included Yuzuru Sanematsu, who served as a private secretary to Minister of the Navy Mitsumasa Yonai; Yasuji Watanabe, who actively served as a staff officer to Commander in Chief of the Combined Fleet Isoroku Yamamoto when the war broke out; and Atsushi Ōi.

Eguchi also happens to have been the superior of my father, Hiroyuki Agawa, during World War II. When my father was serving in the Special SectionFootnote 2 of the Naval General Staff in Tokyo, in charge of deciphering the coded telegrams of the Republic of China’s military and diplomatic services, Commander Eguchi was appointed director of the Russia Division. Around that time, Eguchi was assigned to look after the China Division while the director of that division went overseas on an extended business trip. A big man, Eguchi had a stern, dark face that never cracked a smile; he appeared quite arrogant. Every day, as he puffed away on a Dunhill pipe filled with British tobacco, he would be absorbed in reading “confidential” documents with a red cover. He took no notice of the decoded telegrams handed to him. One day while Eguchi was away, my father, wondering what his boss was always reading, checked under the red covers and discovered that the documents were all stories from the historical detective fiction series Hanshichi torimono chō.

At the end of 1943, my father had an occasion to drink with Commander Eguchi. My father raised the question that was always on his mind: how would the war develop after the fall of Guadalcanal, the death of Commander in Chief Yamamoto, and the suicidal attack on and complete defeat at Attu Island. Commander Eguchi replied, “The navy has more capable people, but since Shima-Han (a nickname for Navy Minister Shigetarō Shimada) is acting completely like [Prime Minister/Army Minister Hideki] Tōjō’s aide-de-camp, the situation is hopeless.” Commander Eguchi left the Special Section a few months later, having been appointed the executive officer of the carrier HIJMS Zuihō, and died in the Battle of Leyte Gulf on October 25, 1944. My father wrote about these episodes twice in his books and spoke about them many times. It appears his superior officer left a profound impression on him.

Masuoka was born in Sasebo, Nagasaki in October 1927. He had just turned 17 when his father died. After the war, he graduated under the old educational system from Saga High School in 1949, traveled to Tokyo, and called on former IJN Vice Admiral Shigetoshi Takeuchi at his house. Masuoka’s father had served as an aide-de-camp to Takeuchi. The navy has always looked after its own, and still does. If the family of a Naval Academy classmate or former subordinate is in trouble, everyone tries to help them. Vice Admiral Takeuchi let Masuoka stay at his house and supported him. In October that year, Masuoka got a job in the Secretariat of the House of Representatives with an introduction from Takeuchi. In later years, Masuoka expressed his gratitude toward the vice admiral: “At times of extreme adversity, when I had trouble getting into university and finding employment just after coming to Tokyo, he always gave me hope and a helping hand so that I could maintain my human dignity.”

Commander Eguchi had also served as aide-de-camp to admirals Katsunoshin Yamanashi and Kichisaburō Nomura. Whereas Vice Admiral Takeuchi served as the naval attaché in Washington for about 3 years in the early 1910s, Yamanashi and Nomura were well known as leading naval figures in the prewar years who favored cooperation with Britain and the United States. It is easy to imagine that these excellent admirals influenced Commander Eguchi. Moreover, Vice Admiral Takeuchi’s daughter was married to former IJN Rear Admiral Akishige’s son; Akishige was on good terms with Masuoka and, as mentioned before, was involved in the formation of the Coastal Safety Force as a core member of the Y Committee. Personally, I find it very interesting that those naval personnel acquainted with Masuoka’s father also had close ties to the US Navy and were deeply involved in the formation of the JMSDF.

In any event, long before he put himself in the middle of Japan-US naval relations, Masuoka had been connected to naval personnel through the senior officers and Naval Academy classmates of his father.

Around this time, fate was generally unkind to Masuoka. In 1951, soon after getting his secretariat job, he contracted tuberculosis and spent the next 4 years constantly in and out of hospital. Due to family and health issues, he was depressed and unable to enjoy life, forced to recuperate instead of fulfilling his aspirations. Had Japan not been defeated, had the IJN continued to exist, and had he enjoyed good health, Masuoka would have aspired to enter the Naval Academy, just like his father. The times and his personal circumstances, however, did not allow it.

In those days, Masuoka picked up my father’s autobiographical novel, Haru no shiro (A citadel in spring). The novel’s protagonist (the author) meets Commander Eguchi and receives his moral influence. Masuoka had no personal experience as to the kind of naval officer his father had been. He was glad to find that his father was very favorably depicted in a novel he picked up by chance. “Nothing was more encouraging than making this discovery while I was ill. I’ve read that part so many times since then,” Masuoka told me once.

After recovering from his illness, Masuoka boarded his first destroyer at the JMSDF Fleet Review in 1957, where he happened to meet former Admiral Katsunoshin Yamanashi. Unfortunately, the fleet review was held in bad weather; it started raining as the ship set sail. Everyone took shelter from the rain around the ship’s superstructure except for an older gentleman who remained standing ramrod straight at the stern despite getting wet, a soft hunting cap being his only protection from the rain. It was Yamanashi. Masuoka approached and introduced himself: “I’m Eguchi’s son.” “Of course,” said Yamanashi, quickly realizing who he was; “Your father was my aide-de-camp. He was a great help to me.”

According to the research of Hidemi Nagao, a US Naval Forces Japan media liaison and spokesperson, Masuoka had been on board JMSDF destroyers 31 times between 1957 and 1970 when he met Auer. He could be seen at every fleet review and tiger cruise. In 1964, he was aboard JS Harukaze for a week, navigating from Ōminato to Yokosuka, and observed a gunnery exercise at sea. He became seasick when a typhoon hit and witnessed the rescue of the crew of a capsized fishing boat. Through such experiences, Masuoka became well acquainted with the harshness of the duties required of a destroyer crew.

It was also around this time that Masuoka first came into contact with the US Navy. When the 1960 JMSDF Fleet Review was held in Tokyo Bay, Masuoka went aboard JS Akizuki. He was frantically taking photographs of the JMSDF ships, as usual, when he ran out of film. Commander Roy Jones, an assistant naval attaché of the US embassy in Tokyo who happened to be nearby, handed him a roll of film, saying, “Please use this.” Masuoka was impressed by the US naval officer’s kindness.

In 1963, learning from a newspaper that the carrier USS Constellation would call at Yokosuka, Masuoka wrote to Commander Jones, requesting a tour. Since he mentioned his personal history, his work, and the relationship between his father and the IJN, Jones soon arranged for his visit. Masuoka made his first visit to the carrier at anchor in May that year. The US Navy even assigned a lieutenant as his escort to show him around the ship. “It was the best day of my life,” Masuoka wrote in his letter of thanks to Jones.

That same month, he went aboard the carrier USS Ranger off Sagami Bay. It was the first time for him to see the launch and landing of carrier-based aircraft. Masuoka wrote a letter of thanks to Captain George Duncan, USS Ranger’s commanding officer, saying, “My late father would have been standing on the bridge of a carrier just like you are.” After that, Masuoka started to appear at the US Navy’s Fleet Activities Yokosuka and Naval Air Station Atsugi whenever there was a change of command ceremony for commanders and commanding officers.

Naka Funada and the Japan-US Alliance

Masuoka moved to the secretary section of the Secretariat of the House of Representatives in 1959. Then, in December 1963, LDP Diet Member Naka Funada assumed office as the 51st Speaker of the House of Representatives. Masuoka was introduced to Funada by one of his father’s classmates, the former IJN Captain Takao Yasunobu, who had served as a private secretary to Kichisaburō Nomura. Masuoka at the time was just one of many on the secretariat staff. However, he was the one entrusted to draft the 1964 New Year’s speech for the Speaker to read. The draft speech he submitted was returned to him without a single revision—just the comment, “Well done.” He must have left a good impression. Seven years later, when Funada again assumed the office as the 56th Speaker of the House of Representatives, Masuoka was personally nominated to be his private secretary. He served as Funada’s right-hand man from 1970 until Funada’s passing in 1979.

Naka Funada was born in 1895 in Utsunomiya, Tochigi Prefecture. After graduating from the English Law Department of the Faculty of Law, Tokyo Imperial University in 1918, he entered the Home Ministry. He became a secretary in the Tomosaburō Katō cabinet formed in June 1922, directly serving the prime minister.

AdmiralFootnote 3 Katō had served as chief of staff to Commander in Chief of the Combined Fleet Heihachirō Tōgō at the time of the Battle of Tsushima. Katō, Navy minister in the Takashi Hara cabinet, attended the Washington Naval Conference in the fall of 1921 as the chief commissioner plenipotentiary, and contributed to the conclusion of the treaty limiting the tonnage ratio of capital ships (battleships and battle cruisers) and aircraft carriers to 5:5:3 for the United States, the United Kingdom, and Japan, respectively. Because of this treaty, Japan abandoned its plan to build the “Eight-Eight” Fleet (eight battleships and eight battle cruisers) and sank several of its own capital ships.

Considering the status of Japanese national power at the time, arms limitation was very timely. Nevertheless, it provoked strong opposition in Japan; within the IJN, it brought the Fleet Faction and the Treaty Faction into conflict later at the conclusion of the London Naval Treaty of 1930, which foreshadowed the period leading to the outbreak of the Pacific War.

Funada, then a young bureaucrat in his late 20s, was strongly influenced by Katō. He later described Katō in a lecture during his time as Speaker: “Admiral of the Fleet Katō had a clear head and showed penetrating insight … on the other hand, he showed clemency like an affectionate father. When I was filing documents after a cabinet meeting, Katō, who was now prime minister, gave me helpful advice even about trifling things, such as ‘This document is important’ and ‘Deal with that matter so-and-so,’ but he was never too fastidious.” Although Funada himself had never served in the navy, he might have come to love and respect that maritime organization through serving Katō, who was well known for being the best leader of the navy men of good sense (i.e., the Treaty Faction).

In the fall of 1924, Funada witnessed the sinking of the battleship HIJMS Aki as a member of the entourage of the prince regent, the future Emperor Hirohito. Five of the IJN’s best battleships—HIJMS Mutsu, HIJMS Nagato, HIJMS Hiei, HIJMS Kongō, and HIJMS Yamashiro—participated in the gunnery exercise at sea to dispose of the capital ship, as the Washington Naval Treaty called for. The target ship appeared and proceeded slowly, being towed. The bombardment unit, including HIJMS Mutsu and HIJMS Nagato, proceeded in parallel at the battle speed of 15–16 knots. Then, reaching the specified distance, they started firing salvoes on HIJMS Aki. The prince regent observed from the imperial flagship HIJMS Kongō, 3000–4000 meters away from the target. According to Funada’s own writing, “Shells fired simultaneously from each of the eight 16-inch guns [of HIJMS Mutsu and HIJMS Nagato] flew straight toward the target. A few moments later, the roaring sound of explosions reverberated. At the same time, HIJMS Aki was covered in spray from huge water columns rising a few hundred meters into the air. It was just like a scene from an actual battle.” Incidentally, Funada was watching from behind the prince regent, wearing a frock coat, a silk hat, and a pair of gray leather gloves. “When the wind got a little stronger, my silk hat was blown away, while my frock coat got caught on a handrail. I had a hard time dealing with it,” he wrote.

Later, Funada was elected to the House of Representatives in 1930 and assumed office in 1937 as the chief of the Cabinet Legislation Bureau in the first Fumimaro Konoe cabinet. He served in this capacity for 2 years. The times were becoming tense in the wake of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, which led to the expansion of the war in China. In the postwar era, after the GHQ had purged “undesirables” from public office from 1947 to 1951, Funada returned to the House of Representatives the following year, having been elected to the Diet as a member of the Liberal Party. In 1955, he offered to be the director general of the Defense Agency in the Ichirō Hatoyama cabinet. Back then, it was a post that everyone shied away from as it was not useful in gaining votes. Funada later was active as an influential LDP member of the Diet, twice serving as the Speaker of the House of Representatives. As the chairman of the LDP’s Research Commission on National Security, he drafted a plan contributing to the establishment of the automatic renewal of the Japan-US Security Treaty during the 1970 Anpo Tōsō.Footnote 4

Funada considered nothing as being more critical to Japan’s security than having friendly relations with the United States, probably because he had served Tomosaburō Katō and had also directly witnessed from the center of power how Japan had chosen the path to war, harming its relationships with the United States and the United Kingdom. When he was ill in bed for a month in 1970, he tape-recorded his memories and feelings as a politician; these were published as Aoyama Kanwa (A quiet talk in Aoyama). His views on national security are clearly expressed in the book.

As an island nation without resources, Japan must obtain raw materials from overseas to develop its economy. “Hence, the freedom of the seas and the safety of navigation is a sine qua non for the existence of Japan as a country.” Ergo, Japan has to cooperate with other maritime countries.

Japan has maintained an extremely close and friendly relationship with both the United States and the United Kingdom throughout the Meiji and Taishō eras. … Japan, the United States, and the United Kingdom are all maritime nations … the public sentiment of maritime nations is generally moderate and impartial, naturally different from that of continental nations where the temperature undergoes extreme changes.

After World War I, Japan came to be referred to as one of the three biggest naval powers, which led to arrogance. The conclusion of arms limitation treaties in Washington and London kindled an averse national sentiment regarding the United Kingdom and the United States. The Great Depression and the rise of the Nazis in Germany in the early years of the Shōwa era were contributing factors that fueled the military’s intervention in Japanese domestic politics, ultimately leading to a political environment that prioritized military affairs.

The army took control and aimed for an alliance with far-off Italy and Germany and for a modus vivendi with the Soviet Union. Forming the [Tripartite Pact] meant joining continental powers by ignoring Japan’s requirements for survival and welfare as a maritime nation. Such an unnatural policy would never succeed. I think it was inevitable that we completely lost the Greater East Asia War [World War II].

Conversely, Japan-US cooperation was renewed after World War II with the aim of confronting Communism. “I think our relationship returned to its natural state, which is the most favorable to Japan.” Regardless of difficult economic issues, the friendly relations between the two countries would “not only directly benefit both countries, but also contribute to stability in Asia as well as to the establishment of world peace.”

These beliefs made Funada value the relationship with the US forces in Japan, especially US Naval Forces Japan. Starting in 1956, he would invite US military personnel in Japan to the Akasaka OdoriFootnote 5 celebration held at the Kabukiza theater in Tokyo every spring. Whenever a major US Navy vessel called at a Japanese port, Funada would be the first Diet member to visit it. The ships he visited included the carrier USS Kitty Hawk, calling at Yokosuka in June 1964; the nuclear submarine USS Snook, calling at Yokosuka in June 1966; the carrier USS Enterprise, calling at Sasebo in January 1968; and the battleship USS New Jersey, calling at Yokosuka in February 1969. He encouraged the crew and toured the vessels.

On these occasions, it was always Masuoka who communicated with the US Navy and accompanied him. Funada instructed Masuoka to take good care of the US Seventh Fleet. Although the 1960 Anpo TōsōFootnote 6 had been brought to an end, the leftist anti-US movement was at its peak. The All-Japan Federation of Students’ Self-Governing AssociationsFootnote 7 and trade unions ran vigorous campaigns against USS Snook and USS Enterprise whenever they called at Japanese ports. The Japanese people also strongly opposed the Vietnam War. Even under these circumstances, Funada actively welcomed port calls by US naval ships. In particular, Funada and Masuoka boarded USS Snook twice during port calls in Okinawa and in Sasebo. In Okinawa, he held a press conference on board to emphasize the safety of nuclear submarines. In Sasebo, he transferred at sea from a helicopter to USS Snook, which then entered the port. For the US naval officers and sailors who had doubts about their welcome in Japan given the intense opposition, Funada’s appearances carried a message: “Don’t worry, your presence is indispensable for Japan’s security, and we are sincerely grateful for your visit.” There were politicians with that kind of spirit in those days.

Homeporting USS Midway in Yokosuka

Thus, it was these two men with pro-Navy views outlined above whom a young Lieutenant Commander James Auer appeared before. Auer happened to arrive in Japan to conduct research in the same year that Funada became Speaker for the second time and Masuoka was appointed his private secretary. After completing his studies, Auer stayed on in Japan as a political advisor to the commander, US Naval Forces Japan, and was engaged in maintaining the Japan-US Naval relationship. When the decision was made concerning the homeporting of the carrier USS Midway at the US Navy Fleet Activities Yokosuka, one of the most significant issues in the history of Japan-US security relations, Auer assisted from the side, in close communication with Masuoka.

Significant events preceded this decision. Under the newly elected President Richard Nixon, who took office in 1969, the United States set out to scale down its military presence in Asia because of difficulties it faced from the Vietnam War. Reducing the military’s budget, above all else, was essential. Based on this objective, the US Forces Japan headquarters notified the Japanese government on November 27, 1970 that its combat forces would be withdrawn almost entirely by end-June of the following year. This meant that the Seventh Fleet vessels in Yokosuka, along with the air squadrons in Yokota and Misawa, would be moved to Sasebo and the US mainland.

The decision came like a bolt from the blue for the JMSDF. It was front-page news on the morning of November 28. The next day (Sunday), senior JMSDF officers paid a visit to Rear Admiral Julian Burke,Footnote 8 commander, US Naval Forces Japan. They complained about the lack of advance notice and appealed to him to overturn the decision somehow. Once the US forces relinquished their Yokosuka base—which the IJN had used until 1945—the JMSDF would never be able to use this historic naval port in the future, they worried. As a matter of fact, soon after the announcement, the mayor of Yokosuka appeared to have initiated an attempt to attract private companies for commercial redevelopment.

Speaker Funada was also actively involved in this matter, according to Masuoka. When Funada had dinner with Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Thomas Moorer during his January 1971 visit to Japan, he requested that Moorer overturn the decision to reduce the size of the Yokosuka base. Before becoming chairman, Admiral Moorer had been the CNO, Admiral Zumwalt’s immediate predecessor. Around 1964, he had once been posted in Yokosuka as the commander, US Seventh Fleet. He was already acquainted with Funada. Twice during the war, he had had to swim for his life in the western Pacific: once after his aircraft was shot down, and again when the ship that rescued him, SS Florence D, was sunk later that day. Nevertheless, Moorer was very friendly toward the leaders of the former IJN and the JMSDF. The request to maintain US forces in Yokosuka was also conveyed directly to CNO Zumwalt by CMS Uchida, who happened to be in Washington at the time.

Having learned that Japan would not welcome the US Navy’s decision to leave Yokosuka (and likely knowing that Washington was about to reverse that decision), Admiral Moorer told Funada that the US Navy would overturn the decision. Funada made an additional request: “There will be some chaos if it is announced now. Please announce it after the budget bill has passed and become effective for the new fiscal year starting April 1.” On March 31, Auer, who had already started working unofficially for Rear Admiral Burke, notified Funada through Masuoka that the US Navy had announced the retraction of the decision to scale down the Yokosuka base. The issue was settled for the moment.

In January of that year, the US Navy had started contemplating the homeporting of an aircraft carrier in Yokosuka to maintain the presence there, seemingly at odds with the force reduction policy decision. Once an aircraft carrier departs its home port for an operation, it becomes very difficult to return until the operation is finished, which means that the crew cannot see their families for a long time. However, if a carrier was homeported in Yokosuka and the crew’s families settled there, operations at sea would be limited to 6 months at the longest, unlike carriers homeported on the West Coast of the United States. Moreover, the carrier’s total operational days per year would be reduced by 12 weeks. Doing this would boost the morale of the crew, improve the recruitment of sailors, and increase the rate of service retention. CNO Zumwalt showed exceptionally keen interest in this plan, for improving the working conditions of sailors was a key concern of his. If the carrier’s operational days were reduced by the same extent without a forward deployment in Northeast Asia, a new carrier would have to be built. Hence, this measure was expected to facilitate the reduction of the military budget, as well.

The real question was how the Japanese government would respond. In the political climate of the day, already facing strong opposition to US naval vessels calling at Japanese ports and to the Vietnam War, would the Japanese government accept the homeporting of a carrier in Yokosuka? Auer’s first mission as a political advisor was to sound out reactions to the plan in various sectors of Japanese society. Auer made full use of the personal connections he had cultivated during his dissertation research, meeting many people and traveling from Yokosuka to Tokyo frequently. He attended the regular weekly meetings held in the US embassy’s political section to gain the latest information on political issues between Japan and the United States. He made friends with US Ambassador to Japan Robert S. Ingersoll and his assistant, Michael Armacost. He also made connections in the Japan-US Security Treaty Division of the North American Affairs Bureau in the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs. At Funada’s invitation, Auer frequently brought Rear Admiral Julian Burke, dressed in plainclothes, to Funada for discussions. It would have been a slightly sensitive matter for the commander, US Naval Forces Japan, to make political contacts outside of official channels (the foreign ministry and the US embassy), even though it was his duty to express the intentions of the US Navy in Japan. Thus, Burke’s appearing in plainclothes was a discreet move to avoid attracting undue attention.

Through his contacts, Auer got the feeling that the Japan-US Security Treaty Division of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was relatively supportive of the plan. What was needed was a political decision. When Rear Admiral Burke met Speaker Funada, he explained that the forward deployment of a carrier is beneficial, both strategically and financially. Funada replied to Burke, “The Japan-US Security Treaty is beneficial to Japan. The Japanese government always does what is necessary, even if it is politically difficult. Tell the government clearly what you want. And never back down.”

In 1972—in August, according to Auer’s memory—he received a late-night phone call from Masuoka, who told him briefly, “Mr. Auer, [take] action.” Masuoka went on to explain that Funada had discussed the issue that day with Ambassador Ingersoll at a reception held at the Speaker’s official residence. Speaker Funada shared with the ambassador the Japanese government’s highly political judgment conveyed to him by Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka: “The United States has the right to homeport USS Midway in Yokosuka. It’s not necessary to obtain permission from Japan. However, if you wish to ask our opinion on the matter, that’s OK. We will say ‘Yes,’ if asked.”

The issue first became public in September, when Masayoshi Ōhira, foreign minister in the Tanaka cabinet, appearing at the Committee on Foreign Affairs of the House of Representatives, stated that the US Navy had requested homeporting of USS Midway in Yokosuka. The US government did not ask for official permission, and the Japanese government did not officially approve. But by this time, both countries had agreed on the plan.

Through this sequence of events, the forward deployment of a carrier became possible, and it was decided that USS Midway, the first carrier ordered to be homeported in Japan, would arrive at Yokosuka in October 1973. However, a concerned Ministry of Foreign Affairs inquired about the possibility of delaying USS Midway’s arrival, as the protests around the Yokosuka base grew to a few thousand people a few days before the carrier was to enter its new home port. The US Navy insisted on entering port as scheduled; the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was reluctant to concur.

Then a defense attaché sent by the JMSDF, based at the Japanese embassy in Washington, called Masuoka. Vice Chief of Naval Operations Admiral James Holloway personally requested that Speaker Funada persuade the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Masuoka passed on the request to Funada immediately. Funada’s intercession bore fruit, and USS Midway entered the Yokosuka port on October 5, as scheduled (Fig. 6.1).

Fig. 6.1
A photo of U S S Midway near the port. The spectators are at the port.

USS Midway entering Yokosuka Port. (Photo credit: JMSDF)

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Subsequently, USS Midway was dispatched from Yokosuka on numerous missions before its final departure in August 1991. When the carrier returned to port from the Gulf War without having lost a single aircraft or crewmember, Masuoka was among those at the wharf to greet it. USS Independence, the second forward-deployed carrier that replaced USS Midway, was decommissioned in 1998. Now a third carrier, USS Kitty Hawk, is homeported in Yokohama.Footnote 9 Although the original plan was to greatly scale down the base with the withdrawal of the Seventh Fleet in 1970, Fleet Activities Yokosuka has since become one of the most important bases for the US Navy’s global strategy.

Needless to say, Funada was just one of many who contributed to the homeporting of USS Midway in Yokosuka; Masuoka’s influence had little to do with it. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs played an active part; many local people also endeavored to enable the reception in Yokosuka, including Mayor Masayoshi Nagano (elected with the support of the Japan Socialist Party and the unions). There were also political incentives, such as the return of the US Navy’s restricted waters in front of the base, which enabled land reclamation. And yet the influence of Funada as a politician was critical. Therefore, the US Navy treated Funada and his subordinate, Masuoka, increasingly well.

In 1973, the Department of Defense awarded Funada a special decoration, the Medal for Distinguished Public Service, to acknowledge his services—only the third time it had been awarded to a foreigner. In 1976, already retired as Speaker, Funada was invited by the US Navy to the Parade of Sail, which was to be held at the mouth of the Hudson River for the United States Bicentennial. Masuoka and Auer accompanied him on the 17-day journey to New York, Washington, D.C., and Texas. As Funada’s escort officer, Auer took care of the older politician throughout the journey. He delivered umeboshi (pickled plums) to Funada’s room every morning, at Masuoka’s suggestion. Funada was always in a good mood, thinking highly of Auer. The US Navy also accorded Masuoka every courtesy, assigning a naval officer as his escort. His nickname, Mr. Navy, was beginning to carry a certain weight.

“Mr. Navy Arriving”

Masuoka became the household manager for the official residence of the Speaker of the House of Representatives in 1977. He kept the post after Funada’s death in 1979, serving seven politicians who were Speaker after Funada. Starting around this time, Masuoka came to be treated like a flag officer whenever he visited US Navy vessels.

In the navy, a boatswain’s call sounds a long whistle with a “low—high—low” series of pitches whenever a flag or commanding officer boards the ship or goes ashore. This is a custom common among navies the world over, carried out not only in the JMSDF and the US Navy, but also in the Russian and Chinese navies. (According to one theory, in the days of sailing warships, the Royal Navy’s flag officers were too fat to climb the rope ladder. They were therefore hoisted and lowered in a boatswain’s chair with a whistle coordinating the timing; the custom is a reminder of that past.) In the US Navy, a sailor also rings a bell, with the tone sounded in pairs: ding-ding, ding-ding. Several sailors, called sideboys, line up on the deck to welcome visitors. The number of sideboys depends on the visitor’s rank and status: two, four, six, or—if the visitor is an admiral or the president—eight. Additionally, when a commanding officer boards or leaves the ship, the name of his command is announced over the shipboard loudspeaker. So, for example, if he is the commander, US Seventh Fleet, “Seventh Fleet arriving”; for the commanding officer of the carrier USS John F. Kennedy, “John F. Kennedy arriving”; and for the President, “United States arriving.”

Somewhere down the line, Masuoka began to be honored with this ceremony when he boarded or left US Navy ships. Furthermore, he was reportedly treated as equivalent to an admiral. As Masuoka climbed the ladder, the bell was sounded eight times, a sailor piped, and “Mr. Navy arriving” was announced. In accordance with custom, Masuoka saluted aft toward the naval ensign before stepping onto the ship. As he was leaving the ship, “Mr. Navy departing” was announced. Again, Masuoka saluted aft toward the naval ensign before climbing down the ladder. The bell was sounded, and a sailor piped for the short, gray-haired Japanese gentleman. Officers and sailors not familiar with the special treatment wondered what was going on.

Masuoka not only frequented the US Navy bases in Yokosuka and Sasebo, but also often attended, by invitation, the US Navy’s major ceremonies, such as the change of command for the CNO in Washington, D.C. and for the CINCPACFLT in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

There were a few reasons why the US Navy valued Masuoka even after Funada’s death, treating him with the utmost courtesy. First of all, successive commanders of the Seventh Fleet and the US Naval Forces Japan had personal friendships with Masuoka because of his frequenting US Navy bases since the 1960s. Many of the flag officers who arrived in Yokosuka as fleet commanders had known Masuoka since they were lieutenants, commanders, and captains. The relationship with Masuoka was one matter fleet commanders passed down to their successors. Whenever they returned to Yokosuka, Masuoka looked after them very hospitably, taking them sightseeing to Kamakura or NikkoFootnote 10 or entertaining them at Komatsu, a historic restaurant in Yokosuka that IJN personnel had frequented since before the war.Footnote 11

For the US Navy, Masuoka also served as a go-between with political and official circles in Japan. He introduced many influential politicians to US Navy leadership and gladly helped when the US Navy had a favor to ask of the politicians. In addition to his contributions to the forward deployment of USS Midway, he acted as a coordinator on issues such as the partial return of land at the Sasebo base in 1974 and the dispatch of the Japanese sailing ship Nippon Maru to the Parade of Sail for the United States Bicentennial in 1976. Masuoka himself was not particularly influential, but for the US naval personnel who did not understand the intricacies of Japanese politics, he was invaluable for his willingness to function as a bridge to Nagata-chō, Japan’s political center.

Masuoka’s closest friend among flag officers in his final years was Admiral Archie R. Clemins. Clemins (then a captain) first met Masuoka in the fall of 1986, when he arrived at his post as commander of Submarine Group 7 homeported at Fleet Activities Yokosuka. Clemins knew nothing about Japan, so Masuoka taught him about Japanese culture and customs, explained Japanese politics, and looked after him in various ways. From then on, when he was posted to Yokosuka as the chief of staff and later as commander of the Seventh Fleet, the Masuokas welcomed the Cleminses warmly. “It was entirely thanks to Mr. Navy that I was able to understand Japan,” Clemins wrote in a letter to me. During Clemins’s term as commander, US Seventh Fleet, Masuoka went out to sea with him aboard the fleet flagship USS Blue Ridge many times. At sea, the two often talked about the importance of the friendly relationship between the US Navy and the JMSDF, as well as the future of the two countries. Clemins listened to Masuoka’s views and used them as a reference. For Clemins, Masuoka was like a window into Japan. When Clemins held a reception and invited people, Masuoka was always alongside him and introduced any Japanese guests to him: it was Masuoka who introduced me to the admiral on board USS Blue Ridge. Their close relationship continued even after Admiral Clemins became CINCPACFLT.

Masuoka also voluntarily endeavored to publicize the US Navy by inviting a number of influential figures from the private sector to US Navy bases and vessels. For example, Masuoka would often lead a group of Japanese to a US Navy carrier that had appeared near Japan, flying from Atsugi Naval Air Station aboard a C-2A Greyhound cargo aircraft that would land on the carrier by catching its tailhook on an arresting wire. The VIPs would step down onto the flight deck still excited by the impact of the landing. Senior officers, including the commander of Carrier Strike Group 5 and the carrier’s commanding officer, would receive the guests and guide them around the ship. In the meantime, carrier-based aircraft were launched from catapults one by one, and after a while landed back on the 200-meter-long runway as if they were being hurled at the deck. Masuoka enjoyed watching the awe on the guests’ faces.

Among the people Masuoka invited to the carriers were Akio Morita, chairman of Sony; Shizuo Tsuji, headmaster of the Tsuji Culinary Institute; Hidemi Nagao, a US Navy spokesperson; and the novelist Hiroyuki Agawa, my father. The group visited the nuclear-powered carrier USS Carl Vinson from the air in 1989. Deeply impressed with the experience, Tsuji invited Masuoka and the senior officers of USS Kitty Hawk to his house for a banquet and entertained them with splendid cuisine in return.

It was no wonder that Masuoka was flattered by the US Navy’s special treatment. Being just a staff member of the House of Representatives, I’ll never be treated as a person in my own right by Japanese society because it only evaluates people by their title. A politician’s private secretary is no more than an errand boy. On the contrary, the US Navy treats me on equal terms as an individual and a friend.

However, some say that Masuoka might have become slightly conceited after receiving special treatment from the US Navy. In particular, he tended to look down on senior JMSDF officers somehow. When he attended the change of command ceremony for CINCPACFLT in Hawaii in the early 1980s, he even got into a quarrel with another guest from Japan; the person challenged Masuoka’s request for a seat superior to that of a retired JMSDF admiral who was attending the ceremony as a JMSDF representative. A witness says Masuoka was extremely stubborn when such incidents arose. His attitude might have been a reflection of his discontent with his undistinguished role in Japanese society.

Masuoka retired in 1990 as the household manager for the Speaker’s official residence. He kept his connection with the world of politics by setting up a small personal workspace in the office of Ganri Yamashita, a Lower House member who focused on security issues following in Naka Funada’s footsteps. After Yamashita’s death in 1994, however, Masuoka lost the support of politicians and his influence as a public figure waned gradually. In the US Navy, too, the flag officers close to Masuoka retired one after another, whereas young officers increasingly did not know about him. Masuoka also became somewhat estranged from Auer around this time.

Masuoka kept attending the change of command ceremonies for commanders, and entertaining new commanders of the Seventh Fleet and the US Naval Forces Japan at his own expense when they arrived in Japan, though he hardly played a political role like he had before. Short and scrawny, he looked lonely somehow whenever he was seen at the JMSDF Fleet Review or on the Seventh Fleet flagship USS Blue Ridge. He may have been experiencing some health issues.

In 1993 he decided to go to the United States to visit the secretary of the Navy and as many as 40 US Navy flag officers, both active and retired, who had served in Yokosuka. Masuoka seemed very happy when he was looking at the photos from the visit.

Masuoka’s Death

Masuoka contracted a lung disease in October 1996, and after repeated hospitalizations, died in hospital in Yokosuka on September 2 the following year. On learning that he was seriously ill, CINCPACFLT Admiral Clemins visited him at the hospital along with Auer. Four days before Masuoka’s death, Vice Admiral Yasumasa Yamamoto, the commandant of the JMSDF Yokosuka District, and Rear Admiral Michael Haskins, commander, US Naval Forces Japan, called on him at the hospital. Masuoka, with labored breathing, asked if the preparations were going well for USS Independence’s visit to Otaru, scheduled for the following week.

His condition became critical, but he briefly revived the day before his death. He started calling the names of his many friends as his wife, Yōko, sat with him. Because he was moving his hands incessantly, she handed him a notepad and a pen, and he wrote in English, “To Mr. Auer, A strong man …” This was the last thing he wrote. CINCPACFLT Admiral Clemins sent a telegraph to the entire naval force under his command the next day, mourning Masuoka’s death.

The funeral, which took place in the city of Yokosuka on September 4, was attended by senior officers of the US Navy and the JMSDF dressed in white summer uniforms. Vice Admiral James O. Ellis flew from Washington, D.C. on the CNO’s behalf and Admiral Clemins came from Hawaii; many JMSDF senior officers, both active and retired, attended, including the CMS, Admiral Kazuya Natsukawa. A few of Masuoka’s close friends read their condolences, then Japanese and US naval officers carried the coffin, covered by the Japanese and US national flags. Admiral Clemins gave a final salute to the coffin.

On October 22, which would have been Masuoka’s 70th birthday, two ceremonies were held, at Pier 12 and a waterfront park at the US Navy’s Yokosuka base, for the unveiling of memorials with reliefs of Masuoka’s profile.

Although the plan had been to complete and unveil the two memorials while Masuoka was alive and well, they were not ready in time. Two days before Masuoka’s death, Rear Admiral Haskins showed him the design drawing. Pier 12, where carriers berth, was named Masuoka Pier, while the newly created waterfront park was named Masuoka Memorial Park. During the unveiling ceremony at the park, Haskins made a short speech, quoting a poem in Japanese by Takuboku Ishikawa.

Yue mo naku/umi ga mitakute/umi ni kinu

 kokoro itamite/taegataki hi ni

For no reason, I longed for the sea. I came to the sea;

 On the day my heart hurt and I couldn’t cope.

The wind was strong that day and the waters in the bay in front of us were rough with whitecaps. From this peaceful park, Masuoka’s memorial watches over US Navy and JMSDF vessels coming and going from Yokosuka Naval Base every day.