“Lieutenant!” Now Harada allowed himself a flash of anger, and he deliberately left off the rest of Fukada’s title with that exclamation. “Our agreement here was to see if we could persuade these men to seek peace terms to end this war, not to begin planning out campaigns so we could continue it.”
“I understand that was your intention sir, and I agreed to come along as it was necessary for me to do so in order to present my own thoughts on the matter. As I have said, I disagree with the idea that we can now seek terms with the United States. I said as much earlier when the issue first came up. Yet I do agree that we can force the Americans to negotiate, and we can then dictate terms to our liking.”
“Interesting,” said Ugaki. “Now the two of them disagree. I must say, this is a masterful performance if these two came here to deceive us. But even if they have brought us this impossible story, they have also brought us this ship. They are all wearing uniforms. They fly our naval ensign. They claim to be officers in the service of our nation. If that is so, then they must first concede something here and now, and bow to our wishes in this matter. We will decide what happens here, so their opinion, and their disagreement, means nothing.”
“Just a moment,” said Harada. “Do not be so quick to relieve me of command here. I am Captain of this ship, and nothing will happen with it that I do not endorse.”
“More effrontery,” said Ugaki. “Well, Captain, even if your rank insignia is somewhat strange to me, you should well know that Admirals give orders in this war. Captains merely carry them out. We have extended you wide latitude here, much more than I would have ever permitted. Admiral Yamamoto has been more than gracious in sitting here through all this nonsense. Your story was as good as the saké you serve up, and it goes to my head the same way. What do you say, Admiral? What should be done with these men and their ship?”
Yamamoto looked at his Chief of Staff, a man he had not yet warmed to, and one he never requested in this post. Ugaki was an old school officer, with the mentality of a samurai. He looked fondly over his shoulder to the days of past glory, and in some ways he believed that an honorable death in this war was now his only option, and was willing to take the nation with him to the same oblivion he sometimes sought out with too much saké.
Yet Yamamoto had spent time in the United States. He was well aware of its industrial capacity, which is why he openly stated that while he thought he might achieve swift victories at the outset, he had no confidence that the final outcome of the war would favor Japan. So very much had been said here by these men that was most troubling.
That business concerning Ugaki’s diary was very interesting, he thought. I wonder…. He looked the men over, seeing them both looking to him now as the final arbiter of this little disagreement. In fact, they came to him for that very reason, both in league at the outset, now one an angel, the other a devil, perched on his shoulders and each one whispering advice. What to do here with this most unusual situation? He decided.
“Captain Harada,” he said quietly. “Thank you for your demonstration, and this dinner. I would like it if you would now show me to this library you say you have aboard your ship. I would like to see some of the material you say you have there.”
Harada had not expected that, and certainly Admiral Ugaki did not think that Yamamoto would give the story these men spun out even that much credence. Then again, perhaps he was now simply asking them to make good on their boastful pronouncements, so he said nothing in protest.
“I would be happy to escort you to the ship’s library sir,” said Harada.
“Good. Admiral Ugaki. Would you be so kind as to wait here with the Lieutenant Commander? If this kabuki theater has a script, I will now read it. If not, I will return shortly and give you all my decision.”
When the Captain left with Yamamoto, Fukada decided to sit and drink with Admiral Ugaki. “I hope you will forgive what you now say were wasteful words shared here with you tonight,” he said. “Perhaps I will never convince you otherwise, but we mean no disrespect, and we seek the best interests of our nation. Unfortunately, I believe the Captain and I will have different views, as you have seen, on how to best pursue those interests.
“You have a samurai’s soul,” said Ugaki, feeling his liquor just a bit more now. “Well, you are sitting in front of one now. My family has a long history, and I have striven to live up to it. The lower ranks call me the man with the golden mask, because I am firm and unyielding, and my face is set and determined. Yet when your Captain spoke of my diary, I did not know what to think. I did name it as he said, Senso Roku, the Seaweed of War, and if you are truly a naval officer, and not Kempeitai, then you know well the anthem we often sing about corpses in the water.”
Fukada nodded, then spoke quietly.
“Exactly!” said Ugaki, raising his saké glass to Fukada’s with a clink. “My… A few moments ago I was contemplating cutting off your head. Now here I sit commiserating with you and sharing saké!”
“I am glad for that,” said Fukada. “for I wear the same mask as you do, Admiral. You have heard my opinion as to what I believe we should do. Even if you do not believe what we have told you, you must certainly believe what we have shown you. Actions speak louder than words. You once asked me to write my death poem when I told you I was prepared to take my life to further the aims we now pursue. Here it is…
“Ah,” said Ugaki. “I like that. ‘Let us meet again at Yasukuni, blooming on the same treetop!’” Now Ugaki was quoting another famous Japanese song that was played near the shrine of Yasukuni during the Grand Festival, which commemorated the fallen soldiers that gave their lives in defense of the nation, and dated to the reign of the Emperor Meiji. The souls of all the fallen were said to be enshrined there, like cherry blossoms on the wind.
“I know the place,” said Fukada. “While it also enshrines the hope of peace, I am a realist. I know that it will take many more cherry blossoms falling on the wind to realize our aims in this war. Our Captain was bold enough to say that you would be one of them, and I must now tell you that yours was a most honorable death. Yes, it would be my honor to fall with you, and bloom again with you on the same tree.”
Ugaki had once been called the last samurai for the way he chose to end his life, personally flying the final kamikaze mission of the war after the Emperor ordered Japan to surrender. Fukada knew this, and he could also see that the saké Ugaki was known to have often enjoyed had tempered the sharp edge of his sword. He was quietly using this knowledge to curry favor here with this influential man, hoping he could convince him that they were of the same ilk and mind, two cherry blossoms on the same wind, and destined to bloom again on the same tree.
“Do you honestly still hold to that silly tale you spun out here?”
“What does it matter?” said Fukada. “Takami is real, that much I know without question.” He tapped his foot on the hard deck beneath them. “The missiles under our forward deck are real, and you have seen what we can do with them. You may find our behavior here unpardonable, but I beg you, before you take our heads, let us use them for a while so we can fight for Japan! With this ship, we can do exactly what I claimed a moment ago. We can certainly find the American carriers with our advanced radars, and then our planes can strike and destroy them, and without fear of reprisal. Takami can destroy any American counterstrike aimed at our fleet. Victory will be assured. Then, once we have sunk the last of their fleet carriers, we will reign supreme in the Pacific, just as I described.”