School was a breeze. He was a natural leader and soldier. Denitsu got all the
awards for excellence in everything that he participated in. His classmates
and teachers alike spoke highly of him and it was a foregone conclusion that he
would someday be a general. Accelerated through military school, he was
immediately given the rank of lieutenant upon graduation and thereafter
assigned to intelligence.
Dec. 1, 1941 was a glorious day for Japan but Denitsu was aware that Japan had
just stepped on the eagle's claw. He dreaded the payback but his apprehensions
were swept away by the euphoria of the initial victory. The military conquests
spread through Asia like wildfire. A cousin, Saburo Sakai, had begun earning a
name for himself. He had become a legend among the military. Denitsu envied
the excitement of Saburo's exploits, who flew the Zero, from Pearl Harbor, to
the attack on the remote island of Mindanao. By the end of the war, Saburo
shall have downed 63 American planes, sank countless enemy ships. They called
him the "One Eyed Flying Samurai." One eye was injured during one of the many
dogfights he was engaged in.
Denitsu was in the Tokyo headquarters monitoring the war, gathering data,
part of the think tank, a desk job. He hated his work, so far away from the
action, his genetic makeup raging for action, no chance to prove his bravery,
no chance for glory. He hated his superiors who he thought were stupid pencil
pushers, working in their safe offices. He despised them, aware of their
cowardice.
"These dogs should be wearing kimonos."
He hated being in the same office with them. So, at the first opportunity, he
applied for transfer to a combat unit.
Major Hisayoshi Sakai was proud to know that Denitsu was itching to go. One
call was all it took. Pride was in his voice when he offered the young man a
17th century ..katana. during the farewell ceremonies.
"This has been in my family for twenty generations. Hurry and go, spill the
blood of the enemy. Bring honor to our ancestors," he paused for three seconds,
then, in a whisper that echoed back from the farthest wall of the dining hall,
he added, " my son.". They never saw each other again.
By early February, Lieutenant Denitsu Watanabe's unit had landed in Manila and
was ordered to Bataan immediately after the required two days acclimatization.
The Americans and their Filipino servants were still offering what everyone
knew was a delaying resistance. The downfall of Bataan was inevitable. On his
first combat assignment his platoon lost two men and he promptly got himself
wounded in the right thigh from a sniper's bullet. Lieutenant Watanabe was
ecstatic. "This is what I was born for !" He was back in action the following
day. And almost every day thereafter.
The soldiers under him regarded him with unbridled awe. He was masculine, now
six feet tall, the sword given to him by the major, he could never say father,
always at his left side, sharp edge face up. His men knew he was protected by
the spirits of the dead samurais. He never got tired and they rested only
because they were tired. He had a disregard and disrespect for danger, as if
there were none, even with bullets whizzing by, so that the enlisted men
believed that the bullets went around him.
Soon enough, by the middle of March, talk of his exploits had reached
Headquarters. It was known by the whole regiment that his platoon had been
responsible for the capture of ninety three Americans and forty four
Philippine Scouts. It was also a confirmed fact that he had, in a period of
three weeks, personally killed twelve enemy soldiers. Everywhere he walked, the
other soldiers and officers who saw him would look at his face first and then
his sword next. There would be a hush then a unified murmur every time he
entered the mess hall.
General Homma himself mentioned his name. He could not be promoted though
because his combat exposure had only been a month and the Japanese Imperial
Army was stingy with medals and promotions. But a small piece of paper bearing
his name had been tacked to the center bulletin board of the Preparatory
Military Academy in Asaka . There were only six names there. The rest of the
board was empty. Only names were posted, nothing else. An honor truly earned
only by a few. Major Hisayoshi Sakai was proud indeed.
Lieutenant Watanabe was called to headquarters and informed by the Staff that
more than half of the Bataan Peninsula had been subjugated. They have yet to
subdue the remnants of the Fourth Infantry Regiment of the American Forces and
Philippine Scouts which were no longer a threat but were still a nuisance. His
assignment was to eliminate this irritant so they could proceed to Corregidor.
They were now behind in their timetable and Tokyo had been badgering them. A
million gallons of gasoline was stored in Bataan by the Americans and it was
his priorty to locate this.
Against all protocol, he was given the authority and responsibility of a
captain. He was also ordered to cease going to the fields and instead
concentrate on work that he was trained for. Although against his desires,
being a soldier means never saying no to one.s superior officer. He was
assigned to gather information on the remaining enemy capabilities. He was back
in Intelligence. That was when he first heard of the Tiger.
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