War heroes remembered

To make a long story short, 20 years ago, I brought ashes of my six ancestors from Japan to reinter in Canada. To my horror I found one of the urns empty. It belonged to a brother of my grandmother, Masao Mitsui. He died in the Russo-Japan War of 1903-05.

He was a navy commander whose mission was to lead a convoy of redundant rusty cargo boats and to scuttle them at the mouth of Port Arthur blocking the passage. The port was the base of the Tzarist Russian Pacific Fleet. The boat exploded as it sunk and blew uncle to bits. The urn must have been empty or could have contained only his hair or his hat, a common practice.

Remains of dead First World War soldiers are still being found today on the battlegrounds of Belgium and France. They were buried deep or blown up in bombardment. A friend of mine died in the same manner in April 1945. We were on the way home walking side-by-side. A bomb hit him direct. I was faster hitting the ground. He simply disappeared from my sight except a piece of intestine. War is brutal and ugly. I totally understand why many soldiers from the battlefields come back with PTSD. Most of them don’t want to talk about it. The act of remembrance should include a prayer for peace and as well as the gratitude for their sacrifice. Warmongers don’t know what they are talking about.

As I remember my heroes, there is no more division between friends and foes. The following 12 are my personal war heroes: Five Canadians: Jack Mellow, my father-in-law, an RCAF mechanic. United Church ministers, my colleagues and supervisors — Don Rae, a navigator on a Halifax bomber; Garth Legge and Ian MacLeod both Spitfire pilots, Frank Carey - Infantry. Two Americans: Jacob de Caesar a USAF gunner, who was a prisoner of war in Japan, later my father’s colleague as a missionary. John Savage, my cousin Midori’s husband, a USAF pilot in the Viet Nam war. Five Japanese: Masao and Shiro Mitsui who died in a war with Russia in 1904; my grandfather Yukichi Takeda, who was a veterinarian for calvary in that war; Uncle Shin Kuroda, an Army surgeon, and Uncle Mitsugu, officially still missing-in-action somewhere in the Pacific.

An old Negro spiritual sings: “Ain’t gonna study war no more.”

Tadashi (Tad) Mitsui Lethbridge