Hatsue Sano was the product of a wartime romance and never knew her father, who was killed during fighting in the Pacific. All she has are letters her parents wrote to each other ... and her mother’s memories.
Rokuzo Sano worked as a truck driver collecting old newspapers and was well known for his serious disposition. He didn’t consume liquor but had a sweet tooth.
His future wife, Chiyo, worked at a partner company he would visit and was the niece of its president.
She had a friendly smile and was smitten.
One summer’s day, Chiyo arrived at the office with ice lollies and handed one to Rokuzo, saying, “Here you are.”
The rest, as they say, is history. They chatted whenever they got the chance, and fell in love.
The newlyweds started living together in a downtown area of Tokyo in March 1941, when love marriages were rare. Rokuzo and Chiyo were 24 and 22 years old, respectively.
They lived modestly. It was a time of change in Japanese society.
Elementary schools were converted into what were dubbed national schools, and military training was included in the curriculum. Potatoes and eggs were rationed.
Chiyo and Rokuzo learned from a radio show that war had broken out between the United States and Britain in the early hours of Dec. 8 following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii.
Rokuzo received his call-up order, or “Kagami” (red paper) for the Imperial Japanese Army.
From then on, Chiyo and Rokuzo started exchanging letters.
- A passage in one from Rokuzo reads: “The soldiers are sleeping silently because of exhaustion from their hard work during the day. Each of them is dreaming of their wives, children, and siblings in their hometowns. I can hear faint snoring.”
Left behind, Chiyo was pregnant. Rokuzo learned he had sired a daughter two months after he was drafted into the army.
“I felt as if I was soaring in the sky upon learning through your letter that we have a daughter,” wrote Rokuzo. “I feel like I could listen to her energetic cries all the way here.”
Rokuzo was a diligent writer. His letters and postcards reached Chiyo as often as two or three times a month.
“I want to hold you firmly,” read another. “Take care of yourself, too.”