The Bitter War Veteran

The moral of the story? . . . Never blindly travel into unknown territory alone. It may be the last trip you’ll ever take.

   One morning in 1982, after gate guard duty on base, I cleaned up, changed into my civvies, and then departed Atsugi Naval Air Station alone to go exploring the world of Japan. I was 19 years old.  I rode many trains and buses and I didn’t know where I was going; I didn't care to know.  In those days, I enjoyed hopping off one train and jumping onto another while not knowing nor caring where I would end up. I thought that this was truly the way to explore and I enjoyed it. Of course, I was always sure to have plenty of Japanese currency with me to make it back to the base.

 

   After a full day of touring, it was late and I had ended up in a very far-away town that I was unfamiliar with. I had never been there before. I’m not even sure how I got there.  I was lost. The time was around 9:00 p.m. The streets were bare and dark. No one was in sight. Everything around me looked incredibly different from dimly lit street lights to building structures.  The roads seemed much narrower.  I knew that I was very lost deep in Japan. The surroundings gave me an impression that I was in an old town that had not progressed much with the rest of the country. I remember crossing a well-lit bridge that curved upward and over a small stream. The roadway bridge was short and narrow. From its top, I glanced down into the stream on my left side and saw large goldfish swimming around, probably about a foot in length. After crossing over the bridge, I noticed an establishment ahead of me on the right side of the road that was open; it was a bar. It appeared to be the only business along the dark street that was still open.  I walked inside to get a bite to eat and to ask for directions back to the train station.  There were no Americans in sight nor were there any other foreigners; there were only Japanese patrons. I nervously walked into the bar in a casual way, sat on a barstool, and then asked the bartender my question in Japanese.

 

   Suddenly, before he could answer me, a man behind me began yelling in a loud, shrieking voice.  I quickly turned my head to the right and noticed an older Japanese man in a loose-fitting business suit walking toward me in a drunken manner.  He appeared to be in his upper sixties. The man was waving his arms up and down in front of him as he paced in my direction.  I calmly remained seated while swinging around on the barstool to face the approaching man.  He continued yelling for no apparent reason and made his way closer to me. I could not understand his slurred speech but I knew that he was cursing at me in his language. The bartender immediately stepped out to intervene and backed the drunken man away, then told me in Japanese that the man was a war veteran and was angry at me because I was an American soldier. The drunken man obviously recognized me as a soldier the moment I walked into the bar.  I'm sure that the bitter war veteran had confronted many American combat soldiers in his war-fighting days and could still easily spot one from the disturbing images remaining in his head.  More than likely, the man was releasing his frustration at me because of the Japanese-American war in the middle 1940's. According to the young bartender, the man fought in the war against Americans and he was only venting out his anger at me. The drunk man finally calmed down, thanks to the bartender's action. He shrugged his shoulders while walking away from me and still venting under his breath.

 

   At that point, I felt too uncomfortable to order anything more than a quick-served appetizer and a glass of water.  I finally got the directions I was looking for from the bartender.  He was the only person whom I exchanged words with.  During the incident, I took note of several onlookers who were sitting at a corner table and quietly watching the event that had occurred.  As I prepared to leave, I noticed that the gentlemen were still sitting at their table and watching me.  Without haste, I calmly left the bar while nervously looking around me and checking my back along the way.

 

   I was very happy to have successfully found my way back to the local train station by foot. I don’t remember how many trains and buses I took to get back to Atsugi Naval Air Base, but I arrived several hours later into the early morning.  After finally reaching my barracks room, I dumped my gear onto the floor and hit the rack.

 

   I never knew the name of the town that I had visited that evening nor could I ever find it again, if I tried. It was this particular incident that made me realize that I should begin traveling with a friend, instead of alone. If something dreadful had happened to me late that evening in that quiet and isolated town, absolutely no one in the world would have ever known anything about it if the local residents had chosen to look the other way and mind their own business.