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YOKOSUKA, Kanagawa — When Kazuhiko Ichihara’s father died of illness, the now 73-year-old resident of this eastern Japan city thought merely, “He deserved it. It doesn’t concern me in the least.” For 70 years, Ichihara held feelings of hatred and rejection toward Tokutaro, a former soldier in the Pacific War who had been drunk and violent toward Ichihara’s mother.
Even when Ichihara learned that Tokutaro must have been traumatized by the war, he never thought much of it. Eventually, however, the chance for a change of heart arrived unexpectedly.
Without realizing it, Ichihara had lived in the shadow of the war. What made him rethink his feelings toward his dad?
‘Wasn’t like this long ago’
“Going to the beach was supposed to be a fun memory, but thanks to my dad, it was the worst,” Ichihara said, reflecting on something that happened over 60 years ago that he recalls clearly.
When he was 8 years old, his family was taking the bus to the beach for a summer leisure trip with his father’s workplace. The elder Ichihara was drunk, and in plain view of everyone, poured alcoholic drinks over his wife, Ichihara’s mother Toshi. He also hit and insulted her.
That was not the only such occasion. When his father would finish work at a small factory, almost every night he would come home drunk, and would punch and kick his defenseless wife.
Brought to tears, Toshi often tried to flee the household. Ichihara’s brother, three years his elder, stopped her. Although his father never raised his hand against the three children, Ichihara could not help.
When Ichihara’s aunt saw the violence, she said, “He wasn’t like this long ago.” She said that Tokutaro and Toshi were childhood friends and he was once a hard-working, kind person.
Tokutaro was first conscripted in 1936, the year before Japan’s full-scale invasion of China that sparked the Second Sino-Japanese War. He reportedly worked on, among other things, the construction of the infamous Thai-Burma railway, in which large numbers of prisoners of war were subjected to forced labor. Following Japan’s surrender, he hid in the jungles of Thailand for about a year, unaware of the development, before being repatriated. Ichihara does not know much about what took place on the battlefield.
By the time he was 10 years old, Ichihara rejected not only his father, but his whole family. The thought of wanting to leave home was ingrained in his heart and mind. He dropped out of high school and left home at age 19. He started various jobs including for a newspaper delivery agency and at a shipyard. Feeling relieved to have left, he only showed up to his family home around the New Year holidays or thereabouts.
In 1975, his father passed away from pancreatic cancer at the age of 59.
Meeting and parting with his wife
Ichihara married his wife Michiko in 1996, and the two started a family.
However, things only went smoothly for the first week. Being tasked with caring for Michiko, who was chronically ill, required attention 365 days a year, meaning Ichihara could never rest. As he felt more and more trapped, there was even a point where he brought out a kitchen knife during one of their arguments.
“Even though I thought I hated violence, why did I end up the same (as my father)?” Seeing his father’s image in himself, he hated himself while loathing his father even more.
In 2023, Michiko was diagnosed with terminal cancer of the large intestine. She passed away this January at the age of 66.
A death becomes a new beginning
Although they fought, when Michiko was in good health, the two had good times as well, such as watching TV together or taking trips in their beloved car to the Izu Peninsula and other places. Suddenly, Ichihara was reminded that there were days of fleeting happiness.
“I thoroughly felt how important the death of a person is,” Ichihara said, which led him to recall the passing of his father half a century earlier and to see another side of the veteran.
About five years ago, Ichihara heard a talk by Akio Kuroi, a 75-year-old representative of a civil group dedicated to the issues of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) encountered by those with military experience. “My father could have developed PTSD from his harsh war experiences,” Ichihara realized. PTSD is considered one of the possible symptoms of war trauma.
The group provides a space for family members of veterans and others to speak among one another. But to speak requires confronting memories that have been deeply locked away. Ichihara had avoided bringing up thoughts of his father as a family disgrace.
Ichihara first attended a group meeting this April, not long after saying his goodbyes to Michiko. As he spoke about Tokutaro, memories other than the violence surfaced. When his father prepared curry for lunch on Sundays, it contained no meat but was mild-flavored, which was easier for the kids to eat, and was even tastier than when his mom made it. Ichihara went to school in a green sweater knitted by his dexterous dad.
Ichihara became at ease, and felt as though his mental burdens had gradually lifted.
He has also started tracing his father’s footsteps. In June, he applied to be given the military record certificate from the prefectural government of Chiba, where his father’s permanent domicile was registered.
“Today more than yesterday, tomorrow more than today, bit by bit I feel that I’m moving toward reconciliation. If I can meet him in that other realm, I’d like to introduce him to my wife,” Ichihara said with eyes crinkled.
(Japanese original by Naohiro Koenuma, Lifestyle, Science & Environment News Department)
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