The Sun Will Rise!: Air War Japan 1946 Volume 3

By Mark H Lewis

Mark Lewis has been employed all of his working life in the packaging industry in a laboratory environment. He has interests in military history, aviation, competition photography and martial arts. Mark has studied judo, kendo, aikido and is currently studying Tai Chi. As an avid modeller he has written articles and book reviews on aviation and modelling subjects. His main area of interest is WW2 aircraft, which has led to his first book Project Z. By writing the Air War Japan 1946 series he hopes to stimulate interest in Japanese wartime aviation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Dec 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493132157

Mark H Lewis

Mark Lewis has been employed all of his working life in the packaging industry in a laboratory environment. He has interests in military history, aviation, competition photography and martial arts. Mark has studied judo, kendo, aikido and is currently studying Tai Chi. As an avid modeller he has written articles and book reviews on aviation and modelling subjects. His main area of interest is WW2 aircraft, which has led to his first book “Project Z”. By writing the “Air War Japan 1946” series he hopes to stimulate interest in Japanese wartime aviation.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Mark Lewis.

Library of Congress Control Number   2013923041

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-4931-3213-3

             Softcover    978-1-4931-3214-0

             E-book        978-1-4931-3215-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 12/18/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-800-455-039

www.xlibris.com.au

[e-mail]

513182

CONTENTS

List of illustrations

Introduction

AN EMPIRE WAKES

1.   Beginnings

2.   Tensions before the war

3.   A fisherman’s son

4.   A war on two fronts

FADING VICTORY…

5.   Flying boats

6.   Leyte

7.   Project Z

8.   A mission to America

9.   Hikari

10.   Special Attack missions

11.   Clouds and the night

12.   Codename: OHTORI

13.   Heavy fighters vs Bombers

14.   Opposition

15.   Left to the last minute

16.   Ozawa’s strike force

17.   Jets and Oddments

18.   Anti-shipping operations

19.   Byakko

20.   The Vampire strikes

21.   Red Tide

22.   Treachery

23.   Tora Z!

24.   Okinawa—the last mission

25.   Prelude to snow

26.   An uneasy truce

27.   Uto and the beggar.

28.   Disquiet

29.   Demise

30.   Saipan

THE SUN SETS

BEFORE A NEW DAWN

31.   The edge of madness

32.   Trouble in the north

33.   The second battle of Hokkaido

34.   End game

35.   Death and obligation

Appendices

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Cover: The battlecruiser Owari and carrier Katsuragi head out to battle to engage Russian forces during the Battle of Hokkaido.

1:   Kendoka during training

2:   Kawanishi H8K2 Emily from 801st kokutai

3:   Nakajima G8N1 Renzan of an unknown kokutai.

4:   IJN warships Owari and Musashi en route to Leyte Gulf.

Models and photograph: M. Lewis

5:   Mitsubishi A7M2 Reppu. Picture courtesy of FineMolds Japan.

6:   Yak 9U, Point Cook RAAF Airbase. Photograph: Mark Lewis

7:   Aoki’s Kyushu J7W2 Shinden kai interceptor.

Model and photograph: Mark Lewis

8:   Major Kuroe’s 104th sentai Mansyu Ki-116 in China.

Model and photograph Mark Lewis

9:   Carrier borne aircraft: ASW aircraft Kokusai Ki-76,

Kayaba Ka Go. Fighters: A6M7/A6M8, N1K5-A. Bomber:

B6N2 Tenzan. Models: M. Lewis/B. Gaff

10:   Tupolev Tu-2Rsh-57 Katya. Photograph and model:

Mark Lewis

11:   IJA Kayaba Katsuodori ramjet fighter.

Model and photograph: Mark Lewis

12:   Mitsubishi J4M Senden Kai or Jet Senden.

Original picture courtesy of www.unicraft.biz

13:   Mitsubishi Q2M1 Taiyo patrol bomber.

Photograph: John Baxter

14:   Sasaki’s Nakajima Ki-201 Karyu evades Lockheed P-80

Shooting Stars over Okinawa. From original oil painting

by Robert D Madden.

15:   An early production IJA Chi-Nu medium tank

with short 75mm gun based in Hokkaido.

Photograph and model by Robert D Madden

16:   Kumiko (the Hammer) from an original concept sketch

by Alex De’Raven

17:   An IJA Chi-To medium tank with long 75mm gun

moves forward during the Hokkaido campaign.

Photograph and model by Robert D Madden

18:   Type 9600 & D51 class locomotives hauling a freight train.

Photograph courtesy of Bill (W.A.) Pearce

19:   An IJA Chi-Ri heavy tank moves cautiously into position

during war games in Hokkaido. Photograph and model

by Robert D Madden

20:   F4U-4 Corsairs overfly USS Boxer during the Korean War.

Photograph courtesy of Dept of Defence

For Alex and other lost souls… .

INTRODUCTION

The Air War Japan 1946 series was written to stimulate interest in late war Japanese WW2 aviation. Project Z (the first volume in the series) started off initially in 1999 as a simple idea for a single short story dealing with the Fugaku bombing raids on America. That idea soon expanded with further research; to cover a number of different scenarios using the other new aircraft available. The original Project Z story was added to and thus became a full book. Altered history or what if is not science fiction as it usually follows fairly closely to our timeline, just with significant changes at critical points in history.

Path of a Ghost (the second volume) was always intended to be more than just a separate book that could stand alone independent of the first volume. For the sake of continuity and ease of reading there was some material carried over from Project Z. The second volume looks at the bigger picture for the three main characters (Okumiya, Idemitsu & Hori) and in the process it expanded existing themes to cover new ground. None of the three main characters have easy lives, a true reflection of the paths they chose to walk.

The feedback from the second volume was more positive as it contains less technical detail and more story than Project Z. For the sake of reality it is unavoidable some of the engineering side creeps in. This third volume (The Sun will rise!) is a combination of the first two books with added content to round things off. The occult creeps in just a little when the Ghost begins to cross into other realities . . . .

These volumes owe many people a mention for their assistance. Chief amongst these are my editors Bill Pearce, Michael Pickering and Robert Madden. My friend and fellow writer John Baxter, artist, modelmaker and critic Robert Madden, master modelmaker Brad Gaff, my wife Shila Nair who acts as PA, artist, supporter and critic. My web friends include Bill Pearce who was wonderful in providing me with details of the Japanese rail system and train photographs. J-aircraft enthusiasts Jim Long/James Lansdale provided some answers and guidance. My thanks to Fudoshin Kendo. I am grateful to these people and many others for their help.

This book is aimed to provide some thought provoking points as well as a good read. I have issues with any war and believe genocide in its many forms is unacceptable irrespective of the circumstances. The section dealing with Typhoons is understandably sparse. However it is accurate (if understated) in the description of its devastation. I would recommend reading Typhoon: The other enemy for your further knowledge of what these vicious storms can do to shipping unfortunate enough to get caught in them. The authorities in both cases made grievous errors in predicting typhoon behaviour, costing many lives.

Thank you to my readers for your continued support.

Mark Lewis 2013

AN EMPIRE WAKES

CHAPTER 1

Beginnings

Daisuke Okumiya relaxed as he breathed in the chill winter air, calmly walking through the snow lined streets of downtown Tokyo. Born of samurai stock, by any standards he would be considered handsome with his tall lean frame filled out with solid muscle. His clothes, whilst of good quality were unremarkable and did not mark him as being anything exceptional, this was the way he preferred things.

The silence of the bare trees was in contrast with the constant hustle and bustle of the big city. He felt good. Today he had been given a day off from his regular duties at the Imperial castle. Out among the normal populace he was briefly away from the politics and machinations of the court. At just age seventeen he had been selected to become a specialized bodyguard for the Royal family. His father had been a loyal bureaucrat serving in the castle, as had his grandfather.

The familial samurai bloodline was strong and was further strengthened when he married Nijino. He was proud she was a not so distant relative to the Tokugawa clan. She was pretty, highly intelligent, articulate and pregnant with their first child. She was the perfect hostess for the many social functions he had to attend. Life was good he mused. Daisuke had been born in January 1900, just missing being born in the nineteenth century. It made little difference to him as it was of no consequence. At his age he felt invincible. He jokingly told himself he was barely a year older than Prince Michi.

The Kendo competitions this year had been much closer than in previous years. Daisuke had fought well in the preliminary rounds, thus earning himself a place in the finals. The finals were a knockout competition and he had trained harder in preparation than ever before. Daisuke remembered his poor torn and bleeding feet along with the eternal muscle sprains when he first started training in Kendo as a youngster. It had almost been enough to make him consider giving in. But Daisuke persisted and although his father never commented Daisuke knew he was pleased his son had conquered a major personal hurdle. This year, at his own request the masters at the ryu had given him extra work and training. It had all paid off though, he was in the finals yet again. The Imperial court were wary of the unwanted exposure should he win again. They did not believe Daisuke should compete; so this year he had grown a beard and changed his name for the competitions. Realistically Daisuke could see the day when his duties to the court would overrule his personal ambitions. It was just one of those things he would have to give up in order to continue serving Japan.

The old competition hall was noisy and hot; the air filled with the sharp tang of fresh sweat and ointment. The polished hardwood floor shone like a mirror. The contestants patiently waiting in line signed in, had their shinais (bamboo practice sword) checked over by the officials and waited for their bout numbers to be allocated. The crowd was large and raucous; cheering on specific players from their home districts with great enthusiasm. The tension was starting to build and Daisuke recognized some of his opponents from previous rounds in the crowd and lines waiting to be checked off. He was allocated a number and sat his bogu (armour) down in a line according to rank facing the Grandmaster.

The bow in ceremony progressed and Daisuke started to put on his armour. Nijino had bought him a lucky hachimachi for the finals and he carefully tied it in place. He systematically put on the armour; the groin flaps, the do (chest) and then the men (head armour). Last to go on were his kote; the padded gauntlets that would protect his hands and forearms. In spite of his skill Daisuke sat nervously watching the preliminary bouts; the kendoka were all highly skilled as one would expect in the finals. One by one the bouts proceeded, then at last it was his turn. Daisuke checked his armour one more time; waiting for his number to be called.

The official called his number and indicated the corner Daisuke was to stand at. He steadied his breathing, using ninja techniques to increase the oxygen content in his bloodstream. His opponent was ready, they closed within striking distance and performed the mandatory courtesies.

pic1.jpg

1: Kendoka in training ▲

Daisuke could feel the steady, steely gaze, radiating aggression and confidence from his opponent as they sized each other up. Daisuke knew his opponent was not in the least overcome by the occasion, it would be a tough fight. Daisuke stood up in the ready position, waiting for the start command, seconds ticked past agonisingly, HAJIME! His opponent swung in a lightning quick cut intended to smash into his do. Daisuke calmly blocked the thrust and parried. The opponent was good, very skilled. Daisuke looked for an opening in his opponent’s guard and attacked, it was a trap. His opponent had pulled off a feint and the shinai thundered into his left kote. The referee yelled out WAZARI! (1/2 point) and they lined up again for the resumption of the bout.

This time Daisuke, desperate to amend the situation attacked without holding back. A half point would only prolong the bout, to win he needed a definitive strike. Strike, parry, strike, the remaining seconds counted down and Daisuke knew he was in trouble. A half point was sufficient for his opponent; who showed no sign of tiring to win the bout. Daisuke took a gamble, he allowed the shinai to stay low in the Gehdan (lower) position thus encouraging his opponent to strike at his unprotected head. The powerful strike came in swiftly and he sidestepped at the last moment, the shinai whistling past his ear. Daisuke then struck over his head catching his opponent cleanly on the men. IPPON! (Full point), the bout was over. The appreciative crowded clapped both fighters and Daisuke sat down in the corner to reflect on how close defeat had been despite his extra training. Daisuke knew deep down this unknown opponent was clearly superior to him and his father’s prophetic words back to him. There is always someone better. How true.

After that initial bout the rest of his bouts were a formality. It was odd that this first opponent was the most skilled by far. As Daisuke relaxed his movements and attacks became more fluid. People raved about the bout in the tavern and Daisuke wondered who he had fought. A newcomer from another school, a kendoka bound to win many championships. Daisuke wished him luck mentally and headed out into the snow carrying his bogu and the champions sash.

After the intensity of the competitions Daisuke started to relax again as he walked home. His mind, despite the quantity of sake ingested was clear and at peace. Snow flakes fluttered down on the breeze; so beautiful yet so simple. He admired the mix of old and new buildings in this quarter of the city with a little nostalgia. Remembering back to his childhood days when the city was strange and thrilling, following his mother as she made her way about the city chasing errands for his Father.

When Daisuke was almost home, he sat down to rest in a little streetside restaurant and ordered a bowl of hot miso soup to take the chill from his bare hands. The exertion of the bouts was starting to catch up on him so the brief diversion was a welcome respite. Things were changing rapidly both in the court and Japan in general. He would have much to discuss with Nijino tonight.

Back at the court the next day word of his success in the Kendo competitions had spread throughout the palace. Daisuke was annoyed to find he had been forbidden to compete in future Kendo meets at all by his department chiefs. So he continued to train to maintain his skill and polish his swordplay whenever he visited the ryu. This goal of achieving perfection with the sword was an obsession. In time Daisuke began to appreciate many aspects of life brought into sharp focus by his training.

Shigeru, his first child was born later that year. By the time Shigeru was ten Daisuke had become one of the handful of Emperor’s secret assassins more often than not disguised as a bodyguard. Daisuke was amazed at some of the plots his unit had to deal with, the veneer of peace in Japan after the First World War was just a front. In time the elite unit would be known as The Black Guard.

From an early age Shigeru like his father, had a full martial upbringing and knew the Emperor Taisho (later to become Hirohito) almost from the time he could walk. Emperor Hirohito officially ruled Japan from Dec 25th, 1926. The new Emperor was younger than his father and Shigeru already knew the protocols required if he was allowed to accompany his Father to the palace. As a child, at the beginning of his martial life in the ryu Shigeru had shown poor hand to hand fighting skills, but possessed other skills the ryu could develop. At school Shigeru found himself victimized as his features were very European. He soon accepted that bigotry was everywhere, irrespective of your class.

His father was skilled in swordplay and throwing knives. Daisuke personally favoured the double edged Chinese long sword to the Japanese katana but was equally deadly with both weapons. Shigeru’s personal weapon; a shirasaya (swordcane) was forged as a thin double edged weapon named Karyu (fire dragon). Shigeru remained only mediocre as a barehand martial arts student but showed an amazing talent for disguises and concealment from an early age.

Daisuke’s relationship with the Emperor strengthened and although not viewed as a peer he became a respected personal bodyguard. The Emperor was aware of Daisuke’s culture and secretly wondered why such a talented individual would move down such a path; dragging his family into the abyss at the same time. History repeatedly showed such people usually became political pawns and did not live long lives.

As a talented artist, Daisuke sold his paintings under Nijino’s name. The sale of his artwork provided some extra income and an outlet for Daisuke; a release from the darkness of his daily routine. Japan was becoming more aggressive in her foreign policy. Nijino found that Shigeru was a wilful child. At school he had already been reprimanded for fighting. She could understand his frustration; he was bright and unaccustomed to unfounded ignorance. As a mother she would guide him to help him cope. Nijino herself had come up against unbridled ignorance in the court. She was surprised at the attitude of the other court wives. Daisuke treated her as an equal not a token wife. She had input as to how the household was run; especially when Daisuke was away on assignment. Daisuke would help the boy grow up strong and focussed. She would ensure Shigeru would never be a lout or bigot. Shigeru would be able to think clearly without class borne prejudices. In these troubled times to come he would need all of these abilities.

The market place was a busy noisy affair, ideal for observing people’s habits, playing imaginary tag with the passers by. Shigeru found it an easy game to play, training for his future that was yet to be shaped. His mother although strict; always maintained her calm, carefully avoiding heated moments. She always stressed it was easier to tear down someone with a clear head. Remain calm; was his mother a ninja too? He sometimes wondered.

His father and the masters at the ryu stressed another platitude. Be the shadow: do not be seen even in broad daylight. Learn to be ordinary, unremarkable, hence unseen. Blend in with the masses.

Shigeru as his father’s only male child was introduced to the ninja ryu early in his childhood. His father was uncertain if the boy had any of the skills necessary to complete the training. If nothing else was achieved, the masters at the ryu would determine what skills the child possessed. His mother’s influence was already apparent, his good manners, interest in art, culture and history although of little direct value in the ryu training ensured he was not an uncultured thug.

There was little time for art or cultural studies in the ryu and Shigeru found it necessary to conform quickly rather than stand out as an outsider. His father had always warned him of being unseen. It was much easier to get the job done if no one noticed you. It occurred to Shigeru that some of the trainees were natural bullies and braggarts, much better suited to a life in the Imperial Army as officers where they could victimize their subordinates without fear of retribution. Shigeru was later to remember some of them when they were hung or imprisoned as vile war criminals. The masters rapidly weeded out those pupils who they felt did not possess the necessary character or attributes to compliment the history of the ryu.

Shigeru returned home in the evenings tired and battered. He could see the look of disapproval in his mother’s eyes although nothing was ever said out loud. There was always tension in the household between his parents. Whenever possible she would try to guide him down an alternate path. As his skills levels increased his mother’s influence had helped him cope with some of the challenges. His sharp wits helped with problem solving and although he was just mediocre in martial skills he showed a supreme talent for role playing and disguises. One of the masters took him as a pupil and he soon learned much about keeping his composure under the most trying circumstances. He also learned to rely on his judgment when it was time to take flight once his cover had been compromised. Outside the ryu he would often pick a role to play and blend in among the local village folk. By observing people he learned how each of his characters should be expected to behave in the outside world.

One of his classmates at the ryu around his age was a girl. She was attractive; but he soon learned to his cost she had a dark side. Kumiko Namai had come from an old samurai family and was already an accomplished swordsman. Her true skill was yet to be discovered. In unarmed combat she had the unerring ability to know how and when to attack. As with most of her training partners Shigeru had underestimated her and ended up winded, flat on his back, with a badly strained shoulder. In the ryu her very presence was seen as a challenge to most of the males but one by one she had beaten most of them. She had been selected by one of the masters to learn kotto (bone breaking) techniques.

When she returned to the regular ryu sparring sessions there were a few unfortunate incidents. Some of the males with bruised egos from previous bouts made a point of training with her. In free practice everything was allowed and Kumiko received some heavy blows. This persisted for a while until one day she was knocked down heavily. Shigeru interjected and was told to back off. Kumiko caught his eye and nodded her thanks. Regaining her feet, she recommenced training with her partner. It soon descended into a vicious all out brawl. The ferocity of the sparring meant the others cleared the mat, waiting to see the outcome.

Shigeru watched in awe as the two best hand to hand fighters in the group sized each other up. He lunged; she hit him hard and down he went. Kumiko had broken his shoulder; there was no look of malice or satisfaction on her face, just an icy calm. It was a portent of things to come. The bones were so badly broken the trainee was removed from the ryu. After the session she earned the nickname the Hammer. Most of the other pupils kept away from her after that but Shigeru trained with her regularly. She had given him a couple of heavy blows but not enough to seriously hurt him. She had learned control and he had learned that she would be better than most of them in hand to hand fighting. His ego could accept that fact and she would in turn help him lift his fighting skills. His mother had taught him that most people were good at a lot of things. Some excelled in only one field. Kumiko was a deadly bare hand fighter.

As his own training proceeded, Shigeru found he was better suited to using throwing knives rather than the shurikens (star knives) traditionally favoured by the ninja. The throwing knives were more accurate, although he could carry less of them. From an early age his father had instructed him in the use of the Chinese long sword. Shigeru found the Japanese katana and ninja short sword cumbersome by comparison. One of the masters commented one day he fought just like his father. It was not a jibe, just an observation. Had his father come through the ranks of this ryu also? His father never discussed such things. He was now seventeen years old. The Imperial army was fighting in China against the Russians; his father had him transferred to the Army.

Army training, unlike the ryu was brutal and monotonous. Shigeru learned how to use a rifle although it was never his favourite weapon. Army training for non-officers churned out foot soldiers that had no initiative and only the barest of skills. How different this was to the ryu where the training emphasis had been on using the environment and developing tactics that would ensure you always had an advantage where you would always win. His masters and his father’s words came back to him all the time. Be ordinary, unseen. Never let on you know more than your subordinates. True to these words he emerged from the Army training in the middle of his class. The training was so basic he wondered why his father had first selected him for the ryu and then this. There had to be a reason. At meal time one of his friends let him know their unit had been posted to China.

CHAPTER 2

Tensions before the war

Daisuke Okumiya had very real reservations about enlisting his only son in an infantry unit in the IJA. The Imperial Army was full of itself and in his opinion had far too much influence on the Emperor and foreign policy. The Imperial Army was clearly spoiling for a fight and in Nomonhan it got one. It was an unofficial war starting off as a border dispute but it had been vicious and Japanese casualties had been high. The Russians were found to be capable after all. The time of the corruption from the Czar was long gone and the Russian army under Stalin was quickly shown to be efficient and well armed. It was unfortunate that the zealous policy makers in the Japanese government and Army had not acted on or even recognized the lessons from Nomonhan.

Army training for non commissioned officers was basic and brutal. His instincts and rebellious nature would make it difficult for him but if Shigeru rose above it then he would be a much changed person. Shigeru would be able to cope with all situations, rampant stupidity included and have some prospects of survival. Riots in Japan against the expansionist policies of the army split the country. The riots were becoming more violent and the nationalistic fervour led to ferocious crack downs on so called dissident groups. Japan was split in two. On one side there were the liberals who could see the war in China was being prolonged and was threatening to drag in foreign intervention. The nationalists wanted to escalate the violence and bring on a full scale war they felt Japan was ready to fight.

The winter of 1939 was cold and harsh in northern China. To the outside world Nomonhan was a storm in a teacup but the conflict had provided the IJA a chance to flex its muscles over a modern battlefield. The Russians were shown to possess superior weapons technology to the Japanese and the battles eventually fizzled out to a negotiated peace. The stark reality of Nomonhan was that the Russian army had handed out the Japanese army forces a severe beating. But for the frontline troops holding defensive positions the undeclared war was far from static as the two groups of opposing troops pushed back and forth along the disputed frontier.

The freezing cold weather, endless drills and savage beatings during training helped to convince Shigeru Okumiya that Nomonhan was close to hell on earth. On his first patrol he had found out the standard issue 6.5mm Arisaka rifle did not have the same killing power as the Russian Moisin-Nagant rifle carried by their opposition. True. On the firing range the Arisaka was more accurate as it had less recoil but in combat it was found wanting. In skilled hands the 7.62mm Nagant offered greater killing potential at longer range. It was a sobering thought. Wounding an enemy was not good enough, Okumiya needed to kill them outright. Consequently Okumiya spent more time on the rifle range improving his skills with the Arisaka until one day he was punished for wasting ammunition. The Army wanted sheep not soldiers he thought. What was he doing here?

In hand to hand knife combat class his partner elbowed him in the face, laughed, then shortly after elbowed him in the ribs. Continuing the drill Okumiya stabbed with the wooden knife and his partner blocked the thrust as they had been taught. Allowing his temper to gain the upper hand for once Okumiya countered and drove the wooden knife hard into his stomach; winding his partner. The instructor noticed this and called him over for a reprimand. Later Okumiya was held back after practice marching numerous circuits of the parade ground as punishment.

The knife master took him aside when they trained with wooden knives. Attack! So he attacked as shown in class. No! Attack properly! Reluctantly, Okumiya attacked using the style he had been taught at the ryu. To his dismay, Okumiya found the master turned aside his fluid movements with ease. The master stopped, holding up his hand and looked at the dejected expression on the trainee’s face. What style?, he queried. No answer. The master nodded. As he suspected the master had another ninja in his group. Would he be interested in additional tuition? Okumiya agreed cautiously. Over the next weeks Okumiya learned that his mentor was a Fodo (knife fighting) sensei. The Army training improved his skills with the rifle but the special training with the knife master confirmed what his father told him endlessly. There is always someone better out there.

On the last patrol Okumiya had gone out on he had killed a Russian soldier. He took his heavy coat, rifle, dirk and identity papers for the Intelligence section to analyse. The blade of the dirk was a good length and the steel reasonable quality so it maintained an edge. The blade width and shape however were all wrong for what Okumiya had in mind. During a lull in the fighting he sought out the sergeant major in charge of the armoury. In exchange for doing odd jobs Okumiya was allowed to use the toolshop equipment. Okumiya first ground down the blade until it was long and narrow then worked on the edge until it was razor sharp. Heat treating the blade was tricky but when it was complete the blade was hard but still flexible. On the next patrol Okumiya found a dead body on which to test his blade. To his immense satisfaction the blade pierced the soldier’s uniform and slid easily between the ribs up to the hilt.

The constant bitter cold made patrols unpleasant at the best of times even with his new coat. Recently the platoon had been on the receiving end of an artillery barrage. All they could do was wait out the barrage keeping their heads down to avoid screaming splinters and being spotted. Red hot pieces of jagged metal buzzed over his head digging themselves into the parapet wall and snow. A Russian artillery spotter aircraft buzzed overhead calmly directing their torment. Where were the Japanese fighters? This sector was too remote for them to bother with. The Russians on the other hand thought the effort was worthwhile. No wonder the Japanese could not make any progress here.

The barrage ended as quickly as it started; a sure sign that they could expect infantry action. Okumiya stood up carefully peeping over the parapet, his head wrapped in a white cloth to reduce his visibility against the snow. A line of Russian soldiers were advancing steadily toward their position. Instinctively Okumiya brought the Arisaka up to his shoulder after checking the bolt operation and safety catch. He lined the foresight up on the incoming soldiers selecting the closest man which gave him a clear shot. Okumiya aimed for the chest of his target; knowing fully well his current skill level with the rifle did not allow a head shot with any certainty. Okumiya pulled the rifle butt hard into his shoulder, lining up the rear sight with the front sight, breathe in and hold then squeeze the trigger. The rifle barked and he saw the soldier stagger, not a kill shot. The Russians replied with a volley of wildly directed shots. They were running now and it was hard to get a hit when running with a rifle; still one of platoon members fell back from the wall, dead before he hit the ground. Another friend was dead. Okumiya found another target and fired. Later that morning after both sides had withdrawn he thought about the action. For a minor border incursion the fighting was hard but inconclusive.

After a few more patrols his platoon was rested and Okumiya made sure the time on the rifle range was well spent. This time they did not punish those who practised, the losses from the units were growing meaning those who survived needed to improve. His platoon were regarded as veterans. His target score increased steadily and he appreciated that his rifle was the only thing between him and the enemy. But keeping anything metallic in good condition under the frontline conditions meant he was always cleaning or polishing the rifle. One of his friends joked the Russians would see the shine on his rifle. In the back of his mind Okumiya still questioned why his father had sent him to China.

Daisuke had doubts about the ultra-nationalists and their drive to war. They seemed oblivious to the fact that Japan was playing into the hands of America. The Americans wanted a legitimate excuse to break the foreign threat to American empire building. Brave men who had the courage to speak up against provoking the war had been threatened. Vice Admiral Yamamoto was one of these and in the end Yamamoto had been transferred for his own safety to a new job. The Black Guard were kept busy keeping an eye on subversives and sometimes surgically removing a radical.

Daisuke did not trust the Russians and he voiced his opinion openly to the Emperor. The Emperor sagely replied that the Japanese people had no quarrel with the Russians. What about Nomonhan? The Emperor appeared to have not heard the question. Protocol did not allow Daisuke to push his point. An opinion was an opinion, everyone had one. Consequently Daisuke’s death at the hand of an activist raised some eyebrows and unspoken questions within the members of the Black Guard. How had someone breached the tight palace security to make an attempt on the Emperor’s life? Daisuke had taken two bullets in the chest meant for the Emperor before the palace guard shot the intruder.

The Emperor was visibly shaken; the killer’s weapon was the ubiquitous Nambu pistol of Imperial Army pattern. Anyone could get one on the black market without raising too many questions. The assassination attempt was not reported to the media as public outrage during these volatile times could be unpredictable. Security was tightened and the Black Guard traced the dead man back to an extremist pacifist group. The Emperor was puzzled how someone so obviously dedicated to peace could perpetrate such an outrage. The answers were never forthcoming as the Black Guard removed any possibility of further threat from the group.

Daisuke was given a full military funeral and his wife a sizable pension. His son Shigeru was fighting in China in an infantry unit. The Emperor had known the young man since he was an infant. On the Emperors specific orders Shigeru was recalled and inducted into a special counter espionage unit within the Kempei Tei. If the son was as skilled as his father as an agent he would be a formidable asset to use in the conflict to come. The Emperor could already see he had enemies within his court and government.

The remorseless icy wind blowing across the bleak battlefield in this new sector had a sharp edge that cut cleanly through the light material of the soldier’s uniform. Despite his excitement and martial upbringing Shigeru Okumiya still shivered. Attack, counter attack, then defend. It had been like this for weeks ever since his arrival in China, one of the armies needed to break the deadlock. The futility of it all wore him down; was this a lesson for his future? The Japanese forces were steadily being forced back. Unconfirmed reports filtered through that the Russians had again flanked their position and were slowly closing in. This would be a fight for survival. This appealed to Okumiya as trench warfare was in his opinion a waste of time and manpower.

The daylight was fading quickly and in the reduced visibility he could see no enemy soldiers closing on their isolated position. In his pocket wrapped carefully in a piece of silk was Okibi (burning fire), the dagger Okumiya had fashioned from a Russian dirk. In his spare time he had disassembled the dirk removing the crude fittings leaving only the blade. Slowly over time the blade had been pared down so it no longer looked like a dirk but was a thin long stiletto. The Russian steel was of acceptable quality but rusted quickly in the damp conditions prevalent on the front.

Okumiya felt, rather than saw the approach of the enemy. Many years of ninja training in his youth before Okumiya joined the Army had sharpened his senses to a point where it was possible to ignore the background clutter and pick out selected sounds. The stealthy footsteps indicated that these men were not inexperienced rookies barging around in the dark; they were trained professionals. Weighing up the consequences of abandoning his post, Okumiya made a snap decision.

Silently running along the trench he was determined to alert his commander to the impending attack but already he was too late. Pools of fresh blood glistened darkly in the poor light and Okumiya knew the remaining soldiers in the sector would not last long without warning of what was to come. Slowly he advanced along the trench with his breath starting to whistle in his ears; his heart thumping wildly. Okumiya silently cursed himself on his lack of self control and drew on his ninja training to quell the rising panic. This training had saved his life before in vicious gang wars and if he was to live beyond today Okumiya would again need to draw on those skills.

He rounded a corner and came across some IJA infantry. They were alert and had guessed the line had already been breached by the enemy. Waiting for an ambush was demoralizing as it gave the enemy back the initiative. It was a tactic Okumiya would develop and use later to great effect in the future. The troops were nervous but were in a good position to fall back into cover if required. Speaking quietly to their sergeant Okumiya described the recent happenings down line. The sergeant did not seem surprised when Okumiya told him of the massacre. His first action was to draw in the few remaining troops left in the vicinity and rearrange them so they could maintain a defensive perimeter. No one was to fire if possible; it would be hand to hand combat to maintain their hiding spot. The hunters had become the hunted. Okumiya drew Okibi and the sergeant felt a shiver of alarm when he noticed the way the young soldier handled the weapon. Something creepy about this one, the sergeant thought.

Looking down at the thin blade (darkened so it did not reflect the light) the sergeant knew this soldier was not who he appeared. The dagger was an assassin’s weapon but for the moment it was of no consequence as he needed to make good use of all the resources available to him, including the dagger and its owner. The sergeant placed Okumiya around the corner guarding one flank. Slowly screams and muffled sounds of a fight were heard further down the line. The sergeant beckoned his troops to be still and maintain cover. It was 02:00 hours, they needed to hold out for daylight before the Sergeant would be able to assess the strength of the force they were fighting and find a safe path of retreat. Holding their position with a squad of inexperienced young soldiers was not realistic. The sergeant knew there was nothing to be gained by making a last stand with the willing but raw soldiers. The sergeant assured them they would not be captured.

Stealthily the first of the Russian soldiers penetrating the lines glided past Okumiya concealed in the shadows. They were so close Okumiya could see the fresh blood on the bayonets and the stitching in the soldier’s coat. Let the first one pass as they would be working in pairs or more. Yes; there was his partner following a few seconds behind, leaving no sign of his passage. Okumiya knew from their feline movements these men were not ordinary troops. But what were they doing here in northern China? Training and gathering firsthand experience in warfare just like he was.

Okumiya moved out from cover and stepped silently behind the second soldier. His modified blade slid noiselessly between the man’s ribs easily through his coat and pierced the heart. The soldier went down quickly but his partner would soon notice he was alone. Okumiya picked up the Russians hat and coat quickly overtaking the other soldier. The soldier gestured to him and Okumiya ran over. When he was close enough Okumiya slashed with the blade but due to his impatience missed. The other dodged back swiftly and brought up his own knife. Only one result was possible; one of them would have to die quickly before the alarm was raised. The Russian slashed but Okumiya saw the move and feinted away. It was a knife fighting style unfamiliar to him but the short strong stabs and slashes showed the soldier was an experienced knife fighter. Okumiya’s private training with the Fodo master came to the fore. Okumiya blocked the second thrust and jammed his knife into the soft flesh underneath the ribs driving the thin point upward. His opponent wilted and Okumiya slashed the soldier across the throat with his own weapon to make sure. Dragging the body into the shadows Okumiya again took up his position.

Shouts from around the corner of the trench indicated the sergeant and his men were in combat. Dropping the heavy Russian coat Okumiya ran like a startled deer to find a group of five IJA soldiers locked in a vicious hand to hand battle. He selected his target and struck; then killed another. Bodies were scattered across the trench. The short bloody fight left three survivors apart from himself, the sergeant and two others. It was apparent the position would soon be untenable so with the sergeant leading; the survivors made their way across the open ground away from the trenches.

The sergeant looked over his men once they were out of the immediate area around the trenches, the assassin was unharmed but was spattered in blood and still wearing a Russian camouflage anorak over his uniform, some of the others had cuts and bruises but no serious injuries. Okumiya dropped the uniform on the ground and saw the suspicious stares of the others. What did they expect? He was not willingly going to die in a useless backwater today or anytime soon.

Some days later, when the remaining soldiers from the unit had reached the safety of their headquarters behind the lines, Okumiya was summoned to his CO’s office. In the room was a civilian but already Okumiya could feel his instincts telling him something was amiss. He was requested to sit down whilst the Captain went over his transfer to Army Intelligence. The strange man in the dark coat was to be his new CO. Okumiya disliked him from the first and suspected the man was not from Army Intelligence. The news of his father’s death hit him like a physical blow. The Captain had no additional information except the funeral would be within a few days. The Captain had reservations about telling the young soldier his father had died. Whoever he really was he would cope better with the news away from the frontline.

Back in Japan, the extended training within the special unit of the Kempei Tei complimented what Okumiya had already been taught in his youth. In many ways the Kempei Tei were fairly unsophisticated in their methods hunting down agents and infiltrators. In 1940, with the war in Europe gathering pace, Okumiya was posted to the USA as an embassy attaché. His time after hours was gainfully spent in the streets in disguise collecting information. Things began to hot up when Okumiya was forced to eliminate a trailing OSS agent. Shortly after he was posted back to Japan.

Japan had changed even in the short time Okumiya had been away. Public opinion was still divided between the prospect of war and peace. Someone was silly enough to pick on him in a bar. Okumiya had no hesitation in breaking his tormentor’s nose but left before the police came. He headed back to the streets and disappeared into the crowd before heading back to the barracks.

Much of his time prior to the start of the war in 1941 was spent removing liberals and agitators protesting against the war in China. Okumiya was not political and did not question his targets, merely taking the appropriate action as dictated by his superiors. Sifting through the pages of intelligence gathering evidence was rewarding and Okumiya developed new investigative skills that led to unearthing several moles within the organization. With the official rank of Lieutenant Okumiya gathered more skills. When war was declared on America in December 1941 Okumiya was dropped by submarine on the west coast of America to operate as a deep cover freelance agent. To maintain his deep cover he never spoke Japanese even when reporting to his superiors. For all intents and purposes he was the Chinese refugee his papers said he was.

The Boeing plant in Seattle had been gearing up for production of a new aircraft so this was a timely opportunity to perfect his skills. For intelligence gathering purposes Okumiya had become friends with some of the Boeing workers and had started to take flying lessons until his skill developed to a point where he might be conscripted into the USAAF. Racial tensions were high after Pearl Harbour and Okumiya had to learn to accept routine physical and verbal abuse handed out to Asians even though his papers were in order. Okumiya was glad of his European appearance; a feature that had caused him much angst during his school days.

Every now and again Okumiya would detect an enemy agent in their group of workers posing as a friend of a friend. Traps were set for him but he was too wary to be caught napping. He never broke his cover. Unlike the episode with the first OSS agent, Okumiya found it was better to let the agents persist until they got bored or were reassigned. Okumiya had learned as his training had progressed he could maintain his cover under duress and this created less problems for him.

His English was now near perfect and his Chinese dialect passable having a strong peasant accent. The paranoia after Pearl Harbour meant as an Asian he could not work anywhere in the munitions industry but he still collected valuable information. One day Okumiya received a recall to Japan and had to leave without raising undue suspicion. This was solved by planting a body at a warehouse and setting a blaze. Back in Japan Okumiya was given a promotion and transferred to a new unit. He had no idea how his part in the war would affect his life.

On the other hand, Zenjiro Hori literally had it all; his lineage on both sides of the family was pure samurai, he had connections high up within the Imperial navy and he was strikingly handsome. For a Japanese male Hori was unnaturally tall but he was also very bright. Hori had breezed through primary and middle school. It was at middle school Hori was first attracted to an ultra-nationalist group that he kept in contact with throughout university. Hori found their politics and ideals were very close to his own. Why should Japan play second fiddle to the western powers? Their racist policies made talk of equal trade and immigration a poor joke. Together with his firebrand friends they supported escalating the war in China. The undisguised racial bias and superior attitude from the West ignited racial tensions in the Japanese that persist even today.

The Imperial Army and Navy were being re-equipped with the latest aircraft that were equal or better than the European or American equivalents. In short the latest generation Japanese aircraft could hold their own against any opposition. The older Japanese warships were being replaced with impressive vessels that made the best of the treaty limitations imposed upon the designers. The strain on the economy from the modernization of Japan’s armed forces also brought the prospect of war closer. Without raw materials and additional money, the reorganization would slow down or stop.

Hori looked over the scope and goals of each of the armed forces in turn. The Army clearly lagged behind in technology; on his overseas visits as a student Hori noted the foreign armies had better armoured vehicles and rifles. He swiftly came to the conclusion the Army would struggle in a long term war. There was no doubt in Hori’s mind which service provided the greater opportunities. Hori enrolled in the Navy College at Etajima, much to his father’s joy. He emerged from the gruelling training at Etajima unchanged. Hori had met another group of diehard hissho cadets and together they formed a talented group of zealots. They were already dedicated to victory for Japan at all costs even though Japan was still immersed in the China campaign.

Hori could see the damaging split in the armed forces; co-operation even in these early days was almost non existent plus the Navy under Yamamoto’s leadership was stubbornly unwilling to escalate the war. The Army on the other hand saw China as the golden goose that could supply much of the raw materials needed to expand the Japanese sphere of prosperity. The war in China was drawing increasing condemnation from the League of Nations; especially America who saw the Japanese encroaching on their own expansionist designs. The Navy although providing some support for the Army operations clearly wanted no part in a major conflict. Bluntly put the Navy was not ready with sufficient strength to fight an outright war.

Analysing the available economic and military data Hori and his friends came to the conclusion that war was inevitable. A friend inside the Imperial palace told him the Emperor was in favour of expanding the territories held in China. So the decision was already made. The Americans were posturing and calling for trade embargoes; a threat the Japanese did not take kindly. It was alright for the Americans and other nations to milk China dry but when it came to someone else it was not allowed. Diplomatic traffic increased, tempers frayed and nothing was resolved.

By this stage in his career Hori had transferred to flight training having served a short stint on a destroyer as torpedo officer. Hori found the lectures easy but his big frame made it difficult for him to fly the smaller aircraft. Flying was in his blood, it was hard to ignore the thrill of flying an open cockpit aeroplane. Even the thick flying jackets could not stop the cold. Hori soon learned to keep his head within the confines of the cockpit protected by the small windscreen. The tight cockpit, fragile fabric and wood construction of the old K2Y2 biplane trainer meant Hori always had to be careful. The K2Y2 was a tolerant tough old aircraft ideally suited to over eager or ham fisted student pilots. Hori had been witness to some sickening fatal crashes. Death was never far away if you were careless or overconfident. It brought home to him that not everyone had the same levels of natural skill as he did.

Hori found the recently superseded Nakajima A4N1 type 95 biplane fighter a delight to fly. But once again his physical stature made it difficult for him to get comfortable in the small cockpit. The instructors saw his obvious natural talent and grudgingly agreed he would be better suited to flying larger aircraft. Within a short length of time he had flown the biplane B4Y torpedo bomber, D1A1 dive bomber and other heavier aircraft.

Already there were new aircraft introduced into the syllabus. The B5M monoplane torpedo bomber was a giant leap forward over the biplane B4Y, Hori had seen a few early D3A1 monoplane dive bombers delivered to the unit but his greatest thrill was when he was allowed to fly the brand new Mitsubishi A5M1 fighter. It was a tiny sleek monoplane with an open cockpit. It was fast and powerful, able to out climb the venerable A4N, only losing out to the older fighter in its turning circle. Hori came away totally impressed. The A5M1 was the frontline carrier borne fighter aircraft for the Navy. Initially the pilots had been disappointed in the turning ability against the Chinese biplanes. But once they appreciated the strengths of the new fighter the A5M swept aside all opposition. The A5M pilots soon realized they could control the dogfight, breaking off combat at will.

Hori was certain he could master the A5M1; dreaming of becoming an ace in short order but his fate lay along another path. Hori had already been selected for other duties. The new frontline Navy carrier aircraft coming into service were the equal of anything being flown in the world. As an indicator to the speed of development of military aircraft the A4N had only been in service ten months when the A5M was introduced to replace it. Hori was expecting a posting to a carrier fighter squadron but found himself transferred to the Navy test centre.

At the Navy test centre Hori had flown all of the new frontline aircraft. Finally he was trained to fly the G3M heavy bomber. One day at the test centre he saw one of the Mitsubishi G4M1 prototype bomber aircraft. The difference in appearance between the G3M and G4M clearly marked the earlier aircraft as being a generation behind. The G4M like the A5M was cutting edge, a remarkable piece of aviation engineering. It was faster, longer ranged and better armed than the G3M. It would be a nasty shock for any opposition. Gradually all of the bugs were ironed out and Hori was transferred to operations as a bomber co-pilot with the crack Kanoya Kokutai when war loomed.

By the time Hori was posted to a frontline squadron in November 1941 the A6M Zero fighter had become the IJNs standard fighter. The A5M was used in second line IJN units. Hori had been allocated a place in a G4M bomber crew. No sooner had he settled into a routine at the airbase they were on the move again. The unit was being posted to a forward field in French Indochina. Rumours run rife. As co-pilot Hori watched his senior pilot intently; appraising his flying skills. The senior pilot was a highly skilled veteran and excellent teacher. One day after they had landed he spoke alone to Hori in a low tone. Admiral Yamamoto had been responsible for their transfer from Japan to the forward airbase; officially they were now on a war footing.

CHAPTER 3

A fisherman’s son

Satoshi Idemitsu was the fourth son in a poor Hokkaido farming family. Their Father tilled their tiny plot of land originally gifted to their Grandfather as recognition for services to the Shogun. His Father doubled as a fisherman when the fickle Hokkaido weather allowed it. His Mother was a former diver and she too worked the land growing a few vegetables for resale at the market. Even as a child he had helped out wherever possible. Satoshi’s older siblings helped to bring up the younger children. His Grandfather talked to him of the old ways, dealing with duty, honesty and compassion. This way he learned all about the samurai, their ideals and deeds.

From a young age Satoshi sitting in the back of the boat had been watching his Father fish learning the basics of fishing and boat handling skills. He also developed a feel for predicting the changeable weather in the seas off Hokkaido. Satoshi sitting in the stern of the boat watched the patterns and colours of the sea change as the wind altered speed and direction. By his teens his hard life had ensured Idemitsu had grown fit and strong. Typical of northern Japanese he was short and stocky, with flat facial features carried down from the Ainu. The boy could predict the weather with great accuracy and his Father just smiled at him when he told him a storm was coming. He was always right; they would finish up early today before the weather changed.

One day when Satoshi was a little younger, he and his father were out fishing when the boy noticed a subtle change in the wind direction. The breeze had dropped to nothing and the sea changed colour. Satoshi told his Father the weather was changing but he was too intent on taking advantage of the run of fish to pay attention. By now, Satoshi could see the storm clouds moving toward them rapidly on the horizon. The dark malevolent indigo nimbus clouds seemed to spread across the bay in no time. It grew darker, at the same time a sharp wind sprang up whipping white tops on the waves. The boat started to rock from side to side in the swell. His Father looked around him with a horrified look on his face. Experience told him the storm would be bad; their lives could both be forfeit for his inattention. His father would recriminate later; if they survived the storm. Quickly, his father pulled on a little sail to catch the wind. Too much sail in the stiff wind could bring down the mast or capsize them, leaving them helpless in the boiling sea. The boat started cutting through the waves toward the shore.

The little boat struggled to stay upright in the swell. With his father at the tiller Satoshi was a little more relaxed; he had been sailing for years and had probably sailed through many storms. His father kept the waves lapping at the back of the boat; if they were hit side on they would roll over for sure. Their heading was taken further away from home but this was a minor problem. If they survived the storm they could head home leaving the boat safely on the beach. Every now and again the prow of the boat would dip into a big wave and more water would enter the boat. Satoshi gingerly moved back toward his father in the rear of the boat hanging on for dear life. The transfer of weight helped raise the bow. They were surrounded by dark clouds, the odd flash of lightning was seen, the little boat fought on.

Satoshi kept down low in the bottom of the boat trying to avoid the waves breaking over them, he was already soaked and frightened. Looking around he saw his father hanging onto the tiller grimly; determined to keep the boat moving in the right direction toward the shore making sure they did not sink. Water swirled around his feet in the bottom of the boat. His imagination took over; he was sure the boat was leaking. There was an old

Reviews for The Sun Will Rise!

[Richard kaczmarek · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It is 1946 and Japan has not surrendered ! The author's first two books on this subject, PROJECT Z and
PATH OF A GHOST take up 641 pages of text. Some portions of each are briefly noted in THE SUN WILL RISE.

THE SUN WILL RISE : An A-bomb has been dropped on Hiroshima. The second bomb was lost somewhere in
the ocean ( plane either shot down or some malfunction ) An entire portion of the book is given over to who
will retrieve the bomb - Japan or Russia - and who will use it against whom. Japan has secretly built four
6 - engine bombers ( given the honorific name s AKAGI, HIRYU, KAGA and SORYU ) which are used to bomb
targets in Washington state and Russian Far East ports.

Japan drops ITS OWN A-bomb on Saipan but there is no nuclear explosion. Japan agrees to American
terms, but Russia invades northern Japan. With American "assistance" the Russians are beaten off.
A truce is declared . The book ends with Stalin's death in 1953. Spies and traitors abound in this tale.
P.S. MacArthur is shot by a sniper but only wounded.

The author's interest in Japanese aviation is evident. The story line is filled with real and imaginary
aircraft. Most of the pictures are those of models and the use of designations such as KI-102, R2Y2.
J7WI, etc. leave the reader bewildered. The last section, too late of course, gives a description of
some of the planes mentioned in the book. Line drawings in the text would have been helpful.

Wriitten in the third person, the author practically never deviates from the story line - the air war
against the Allies. He must have a very fertile imagination for having three books of fiction that
total over 1460 pages. But wait ! There is a fourth book entitled Burning the Past Air War Japan 1946 !

NOTE : Print editions of his books are expensive. There is a Kindle edition of book # 4.