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By Root 1471 0

looked hard at Hamishita, smiled. “Physician. A man who heals the broken bodies. Your ancestors will be proud of you for your capable hands and your good heart. But there are many good hearts beating in this city and beyond. We are mobilizing the citizenry in every town, every city. Every man, woman, and child is being taught how to properly defend their country, and their emperor. A soldier is a better soldier when he is given the proper weapon. The same is true for everyone. A child, an old woman … they already have the spirit, the devotion to their country. But give them a weapon, teach them how to defend their country, and you have created an unstoppable force. I am one man, I can only do so much, but they sent me to Hiroshima because I do it well. I am truly excited by the future, Okiro. The entire island of Kyushu will become a bloody battlefield. In the countryside, farmers are being shown that precious gasoline does not merely drive a tractor. It makes bombs. They are being taught to create deadly traps for the enemy in every rice paddy, in every field. Every house can become a tomb. Imagine this. A home, armed with explosives, people armed with weapons. They are invaded by an enemy force, and by their own hand, the home explodes, the people inside ignite weapons of horrifying power. The enemy … he dies, swallowing his own blood. The civilian, the Japanese farmer, his wife, his child … they leave this life and move on with perfect honor. It is poetry, my friend. It is justice, and it is the legacy of this empire. I have never felt such enthusiasm for an attack. And the people! Their enthusiasm is most gratifying of all! Yes, the Americans are coming, and with them comes Divine Opportunity!”

Hamishita stared at his friend with open-mouthed awe, saw the man’s hands shaking, the redness in his face.

“What can I do, Shunroku? I will train, as you say.”

“No. You will do what you have always done, my friend. There will be wounded, a great many wounded. Repair them, return them to the fight.”

The request sounded mundane, Hamishita feeling left out of something far more important.

“But … I want to do more. I want to help us win this war.”

Hata sat back against a large cushion, smiled.

“Of course you do. Your loyalty to the emperor is well known, far more than you might be aware. But we will not win the war. That was never a possibility, not after the attack on the American fleet, not after we inspired so much patriotism from that race of mongrels. Despite all the bluster of those generals in Tokyo, all the claims of our superiority in numbers and in arms, all those radio broadcasts convincing the people how we devastated the enemy in every fight, there was never any other way this war could end. Winning was never an option.”

“I don’t understand. I thought …”

“There is much that I cannot tell you. But four years ago, when the Americans were attacked, there were many among us who knew we had made a fatal error. The emperor … he might have known that as well. But in war the loud voices prevail, and the emperor was swallowed by those voices. They are there still, calling for empire and expansion, denying even now that the enemy is anything more than a fly, easily swatted away. Those people … those generals are fools.”

“But if you do not believe we can win … why do we fight?”

“Because we fight! Everything is the fight, my friend. Don’t you see? It is not important that we defeat the Americans. What matters more is that they shall never defeat us! This war shall end and the foolish generals on both sides shall be swept away by their incompetence, their grand designs. Entire armies will cease to be. It is history, it is nature, it is the way. From the ashes new samurai will come, and Japan will rise again and be as she has always been. Oh, the war will end, make no mistake. The guns will fall silent, and all sides shall bury their dead, and there will be mourning and outcries. But no matter any of that, Japan will not lose. Our emperor is eternal, our empire is eternal. Armies come and go, men die, some with gracefulness,