I happened to befriend a member of the CIC (Counter Intelligence Corps). He was a wonderful man. When I could get away from my work, we had a chance to chum around. He wanted me to join the CIC, but if I did, I would have to sign up for at least two years. Since I had been drafted, and the military was not my future, I was looking forward to going home. I must say, however, that my experiences in World War II could not be bought with all the money in the world. The wonderful dedicated soldiers I met bring tears to my eyes.
My CIC friend and I had dates for New Year’s Eve. My date was a beautiful Japanese-American girl. Of all times, I had a malaria attack. It followed me from the Philippines. My buddy came to see me at the billet. I told him to have a good time, and if he could manage two girls, I think she would appreciate it. From there, I was taken to the hospital. My hospital stay wasn’t too long, and I am happy to say that I haven’t had any recurring attacks since then.
Back at work, I heard that General McArthur was calling for a nose count. All personnel on any type of leaves of absence were to go to their original units. In the meantime, my college administrators had sent a request of transfer to my line outfit to have my papers sent to the Eighth Army Headquarters, I & E Section, Tokyo Army Educational Center.
I got my duffel bag and went to the airport. My outfit had moved to Kokura on Kyushu Island. It was to be my first airplane flight. The first landing was quite unusual. I don’t remember the name of the airport, but it was not without incident. As the pilot followed the “Follow Me” jeep, the plane ran into a sinkhole and went on its side, smashing the engine and damaging the wing.
As we were getting off the plane, I noticed that the hangar was on fire. We had to wait until another passenger plane landed to take us on our way. The trip was extremely painful for me. I had my adenoids removed when I was a child, which made me very sensitive to higher altitudes. Keep in mind that these military planes were not pressurized. It was virtually torture for me. On our second landing, we had to wait a bit. The pilot was on a ladder adjusting some part of the engine. I asked him how long it would take. He said, “I don’t know, I never did this before.” It didn’t take long to get my duffel bag and make my way to the train station.
It was a long trip by train. At least I didn’t get those horrible ear pains from the high altitude. I did get a chance, however, to meet some wonderful Australian scientists and a New Zealand sheep rancher, who were military people. By the time I reached the train station at Kokura it was around midnight. I knocked on the stationmaster’s door. When the doors were opened, a sleepy eyed stationmaster appeared. He was an American soldier in charge of the station. When I saw the sleeping bag on the floor with a young lady in it, I apologized to him for having to wake him up. I told him that I was to report to my unit because of a nose count order by General McArthur. He immediately got dressed and said he would take me.
When we arrived at my outfit’s encampment, it was pitch black. I did see a light in one tent. Luckily, it was the tent of the blond Sergeant I had met before I took off for Tokyo. He told me, “Don’t let the top Sergeant see you. He won’t let you go.” It seems there was a rule that no one in the outfit could go on R & R until the member of the outfit that was on a leave of absence came back. Also, I found out that the nose count had been cancelled. Wow! Needing to think fast, I asked the Sergeant where the 24th Division Band was located. He told me that it wasn’t far, and also how to get there.