The War Years

The War Years

June 17, 2014 

In 1933, the first of the children married. Haru had met a young Japanese national named Fukushima Kozo and they married on June 18, 1933. The joy of this union was soon overshadowed by the death of Bunda. It was only three days after Haru’s wedding when Bunda was talking to Suye as he laid down to take his usual nap. He asked her for a glass of water. Suye, knowing his love of alcohol, especially sake (rice wine), asked him if he would prefer sake. He said, no he was thirsty for water, so she dutifully brought him a glass. He drank it, then rolled over to sleep, gave a slight moan, then passed quietly away of a heart attack. He was laid to rest in the Oroville cemetery, which was to become the site of the family plot, just a few miles north of the farm that Bunda had worked so hard to secure for his family.

Bunda’s untimely death meant that responsibility for the farm and the labor camp fell upon his still relatively young widow—she was only 46-- and his eldest son, who was by then 26 and more than up to the duties he would have to carry. Tony was a full American citizen who had become used to leading his brothers and sisters into the uncharted paths of the nisei life. He took on the task with industry, doing all that his father had done before him: planning the crops, contracting the workers, and managing the finances. Eventually he remodeled the house so that the kitchen was more modern and spacious, adding an indoor bathroom, and extra bedrooms. At the time of his father’s death, he was engaged to Michiko (Mary) Uyeno. The wedding was postponed for a year out of respect for his father’s passing. This was customary. They had already postponed it one year because of the death of Mary’s father. The following year, on December 2, 1934 they finally married and a third generation of sansei was begun soon after.

The passing of the homestead to Tony marked the beginning of a transition for the Tokuno family as Suye took the role of matriarch and the children began to leave to seek their fortunes in the larger world. At the time of Tony’s wedding, Haru had already married and left for Los Angeles, later moving to Japan with her husband. Ted was still single and carefree at the age of 20. Tim went away to college as a freshman at Chico State, then later at Sacramento City College, where Shiro would follow in three years. It was only a matter of time before the two youngest girls also left the nest. Suye even felt relaxed enough about their fortunes that she made a trip to Japan in September of 1938 to see Haru, bringing back a bike for her first grandson, Albert. The future seemed to be lit before them in bright prosperity. That brightness was about to be dimmed by the shadows of war.

News of that time was ominous as the world became more and more troubled over the belligerence of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. The hostile actions of these nations against their neighbors soon placed most of the world into the most catastrophic war that has ever been fought. On December 7, 1941, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. The next day the United States of America declared war on Japan. In California, where there had always been overt racism against Americans of Japanese ancestry, the outcry after the attack was frightening. While part of this was due to a genuine fear that the Japanese might attack and the Japanese Americans might help them, most of it was caused by the stereotyped belief that the Japanese were naturally sneaky and could not be trusted--that they would never be true “Americans.”

Tony and Ted, the only Tokuno Nisei who were still living in Palermo, had gone fishing on the morning of December 7. Mary was at home doing the ironing when she heard news of the attack on the radio. Her usual calm demeanor was broken temporarily by lines of worry as to what this could mean for the Tokuno family. Tony and Ted already had some sense of this, for that morning, as they were fishing, they were stopped by the deputy sheriff’s men, who confiscated their knives, hooks and rods. It must have suddenly become a crime to own such things if you were a Japanese American, because they were put into jail for one night, until their friends were able to get them out. A few weeks later, they were also required to turn in their radio and cameras.

They did not have to wait long to see what their fellow Americans thought. An editorial from the Los Angeles in 1942 captured the mood:

“A viper is nonetheless a viper wherever the egg is hatched. A leopard’s spots are the same and its disposition is the same wherever it is whelped. So a Japanese-American, born of Japanese parents, nurtured upon Japanese traditions, living in a transplanted Japanese atmosphere and thoroughly inoculated with Japanese thoughts, Japanese ideas and Japanese ideals, notwithstanding his nominal brand of accidental citizenship, almost inevitably and with the rarest of exceptions grows up to be a Japanese, not an American in his thoughts, in his ideas, and in his ideals, and himself is a potential and menacing, if not an actual, danger to our country unless properly supervised, controlled and, as it were, hamstrung.”

As if in response to the suggestion of this editorial and certainly in response to the general belief of many Americans, it was not long into 1942 that the President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066. This meant that the U. S. Government declared all persons of Japanese descent living on the West Coast to be a threat to national security. They were ordered to leave or face mass evacuation and internment, or what the government called “relocation.” Note that most of these people--all of the Nisei and their children--were American citizens with the rights of due process guaranteed to them under the constitution. This meant they legally could not be imprisoned without a trial, they could not be tried without knowing what crime they were accused of committing, and they had right to be tried by their peers. None of this mattered. Although they had done nothing wrong, were not charged with any crime and were given no trial, they were being imprisoned in complete violation of the U. S. Constitution.

When the Executive Order first came out in February, it appeared that the Tokuno family would not be affected. The government established a high security area and any Japanese-Americans, whether citizens or aliens, who lived within the boundaries of that area would be forced to leave. Any person of Japanese ancestry could be shot if they remained in that area after the evacuation had been completed. At first, Palermo was outside of those boundaries. Even outside of the area heavy restrictions were placed on Japanese Americans. There was a curfew of 8:00 p.m. and no one was allowed to leave the area within a 25 mile radius of their home. Shiro was trying to finish college at the University of California and Alyce was completing a two year degree at Yuba College. Neither of them could leave Palermo to attend their graduation ceremonies. Then, in June, the order was changed to include all of California, Washington, and Oregon. The family would have to move within a month.

It was a gloomy time. The outbreak of war had caused all of the Tokuno family savings, which had been deposited in Japanese banks, to be lost. Now they were faced with having to leave many of their possessions behind. They would have to leave the land and house Bunda had built and in which they had lived for 30 years. Many of their fellow Japanese Americans were to lose all of their property because of this “relocation.” Suye was very concerned about the family. Those still in Palermo faced great hardships and potential losses. Tony and Mary had three young sons, Albert (born October 16, 1935), Douglas Bunda (born July 22, 1938) and Edmond Mitsuo (born July 23, 1940). But half of her children were not with her. Eldest daughter, Haru, was in Japan where the family had lost contact with her. Tim had joined the army. Tey, who had just married Henry Imaoka despite the uncertainty of the times, was not with the family.

They had very little time to do everything that needed to be done before they were evacuated. It was fortunate that they had become good friends with their neighbors, who turned out to be loyal and stood by them in this time of need. The Weidmans, Spencers, and Hendersons, among others, all agreed to look after the house and farm for the Tokuno family, safeguarding it for the uncertain future. The Spencers leased the land and the house and Charles Weidman was the one who drove the family to the bus station in Oroville for their trip away from home. True Spencer agreed to take care of the olive orchards and Frank Henderson of the persimmon trees. Still, Tony had to try to sell all of their farm equipment since he had no idea when they might return, if ever. Needless to say, he did not get a very good price for any of it, but it was better than leaving it to rust to worthlessness.

In July 1942, the family was sent by train to Tule Lake, far in the northeastern mountains of California. Ten of them made the trip: Suye and her children, Tony, Ted, Shiro, and Alyce; Tony’s family consisting of his wife and three sons; and Ideochan. The rules dictated that they could only take “what can be carried in two hands.” Lacking suitcases, Mary fashioned duffel bags out of old mattress covers so they could carry their belongings. They had to catch a Greyhound bus from Oroville to Chico, where they boarded a Southern Pacific train for camp, the trains windows blinded so they could not see the passing scenery. Ironically, the train to Tule Lake passed through Weed, in northern California. Doug’s future wife, Carmen, lived there as a young girl and she remembered her mother telling her not to associate with the passenger’s on the train because they were “bad” people.

They found themselves in a desolate location in what was, geographically, high mountain desert country. A facility had hastily been built there by the Army. These were referred to as relocation “camps,” but were in most ways actually prisons. High fences, filled with barbed wire surrounded all of them. Soldiers stood guard 24 hours a day and some of them manned guard towers complete with searchlights and machine guns. There were a total of ten camps, generally located on uninhabitable federal lands, such as deserts or swamps, scattered throughout the west and deep in the nation’s interior. At the peak of this “War Relocation Authority program,” each camp held from 8000 to 20,000 internees. Tule Lake was typical of such camps. The walls of each barracks building was made of boards only an inch thick and covered with black tar paper. Later, before winter, the inside walls were covered with sheet rock. It was poor insulation for the bitter cold of Northern California winters at an elevation of 4000 feet, with the icy wind rampaging through any cracks. In the summer it was supressingly hot and the dirt and dust pushing through those same thin walls made cleanliness next to impossible. The camp was built on a dry lakebed with no vegetation to keep the dust from blowing. (Later, the women found that could go out and collect seashells out of which they made jewelry.)

Each building was divided into five rooms, each one about 16’ x 20’ or the size of a large living room. The Tokuno family was given two rooms, Tony’s family of five occupied one (Barracks 4405B) and Suye, her other three offspring, and Ideochan occupied the other (4405A). Each room was barely large enough for five beds to fit. The beds were steel cots covered with straw filled mattresses. The women hung blankets so they could divide the space for privacy. They could cook their own food on a pot bellied coal stove or eat in the camp mess, just like soldiers did. The latrines were also communal, as in the army, so there was little privacy for bathing or other functions.

At this disgraceful time in our nation’s history, the Japanese Americans as a whole distinguished themselves by their dignity and honorable behavior. Almost all of them resisted the urge to become bitter or hateful. Instead they became determined to prove that they were real Americans. Many of the men volunteered to serve in the U. S. army.

Unfortunately, the camp at Tule Lake became the site for the one reactionary movement in any of the camps. This movement was triggered by a demand of the U. S. government. To assure their loyalty, the government had asked the Japanese-Americans to sign a loyalty oath consisting of several questions. Two questions were what created controversy in all camps. One asked: “Are you willing to serve in the armed forces of the United State on combat duty, when ordered?” The other asked: “Will you swear unqualified allegiance to the United States of America and faithfully defend the United States from any or all attack by foreign or domestic forces, and forswear any form of allegiance to the Japanese Emperor or any other foreign government, power or organization?” Both questions were insulting to the young men and women who were, by constitutional birthright, citizens of the United States. To answer “no” to both questions was one way of showing one’s anger over the insult. It was also a step toward being sent back to Japan. In most camps to answer “no” to both questions was a minority action and these men were named “No-No Boys.” A large block of the Nisei in Tule Lake answered this way, however. Many were expatriated to Japan, but not before the camp was split into two by these questions of loyalty.

The Tokuno family was among those who maintained their loyalty to America and became the target of criticism and verbal abuse from the other side. At camp meetings the internees heatedly debated the merits of the loyalty oath. One night, Suye made an impassioned speech urging her fellow Japanese Americans to remain loyal to the United States. This placed them clearly on one side of the issue. They were called “dogs,” “inu,” a serious insult among the Japanese, who are known for their politeness and courtesy. Tony, Ted, and Shiro began carrying pipes around the camp to make sure they were prepared for any “problems” that their resolute stand had created for them. After Alyce was seen filling out the loyalty oath, the family found chicken bones--a sign of insult and degradation--strung outside of their quarters.

Why did our family maintain such strong loyalties to America when so many of the other Japanese Americans in Tule Lake were in strong opposition to them? Partly, it was because of the samurai tradition of honor and loyalty. America, despite the camps, had earned their allegiance by giving them an opportunity to restore the family’s pride as successful landowners. It also helped that their friends and neighbors in Palermo had shown them how Americans could be capable of warmth, acceptance, and generosity.

When some of the internees rebelled openly, the camp was converted to a center for all those who were to be sent to Japan. Those loyal to America had to be sent elsewhere. The Tokuno family was sent to the camp in Topaz, Utah, along with 500 other internees. Eventually nearly 1500 were sent to Topaz from Tule Lake. The year was 1943. The date was September 7. This was a welcome move as Tony and Shiro had already left to work in the farms in Utah. Topaz was a much better camp. Not only were the animosities of Tule Lake left far behind, but they could come and go, since it was not located in the restricted zone of California. A pass was all they needed to go into the nearby town. By the time they arrived in Topaz, the second son, Ted, was already engaged to Lucille Tanaka, whom he had met in Tule Lake, and they wed in the camp in September 1944. Shiro joined the army in the footsteps of his older brother. Tim served in the famous 442nd Combat Battalion in Italy and Shiro served in the top secret Military Intelligence Service in the Philippines. By 1945, the Tokuno family was able to return to their home in Palermo and by that time, the story had become not one of the original family, but the family of Tony and Mary Tokuno.