Japanese war vets visit Kadena Published July 30, 2009 By 1st Lt. Joe Kreidel 18th Wing Public Affairs KADENA AIR BASE, Japan -- At the Peace Garden near the Youth Center July 23, seventy-nine Japanese war veterans and bereaved spouses mill around a monument reading various decrees written in both English and Japanese, words meant to symbolize and encourage an enduring bilateralism. Near me stands a woman in a black-and-white dress, one empty sleeve tucked inside her belt. As members of the Okinawa Prefectural Disabled Veterans Association, the veterans and spouses pay regular visits to memorial and historical sites located all over Okinawa. This is their first visit to Kadena. According to Mr. Junko Nakamoto, the Association chairman, the purpose of these visits is to honor memory, to show respect for the service and sacrifice of the fallen, and to comfort the souls of the dead. Mr. Nakamoto, 82 years old, speaks careful English and walks with a slight limp, the result of a mangled right foot suffered during the Battle of Okinawa. Mr. Nakamoto tells me that he was injured south of Kadena and that he hobbled - sometimes walking, sometimes crawling - to present-day Camp Hansen, where he was taken captive and treated in a field hospital for three months. He says he still remembers the names of the Americans who cared for him: Mr. Paul, Mr. Johnson, and Mr. French. While speaking, we're standing just inside Gate Three in front of several concrete bunkers that once housed Japanese suicide planes. Beyond us, a woman with a wooden leg shies away from my photographer. The noontime, July heat is an extended sucker punch that even drives a few Okinawans into the shade of a nearby tree. Mr. Kosuke Tamaki, 80 years old, offers a sharp and unexpected salute as I approach. He taps his glass eye, eager to tell his story. Through an interpreter, I learn that Mr. Tamaki was born in mainland Japan and that he entered military school at the age of 15 with hopes of becoming an officer. World War II interrupted his plans; he was sent to fight on the island of Ie-jima, where he lost his right eye in combat. "In the time of World War II, the Japanese military didn't teach human rights. Your enemy was your enemy - nothing more," says Mr. Tamaki. "Seeing Americans treat injured Japanese soldiers like me taught me the place of human rights." A plaque at the Peace Garden says, "The price of war is blood, but the price of peace is higher. We must replace vengeance for our fallen comrades with compassion for the vanquished. Only by rebuilding what was destroyed can we establish a strong common bond. For it is only as equals that we can step into the future." Around us, the cicadas buzz on in their delirium. It's difficult to imagine what I was told by one visitor: that before the War villagers used to hold tug-of-war competitions on this very spot.