News of the War's end came to Wake Island on August 15,
1945. On August 18, Sakaibara ordered
all of his officers to his headquarters.
According to War Crimes Trial testimony from Commander Tachibana, Sakaibara
announced that, "I have just heard over the radio from Melborne that all
criminals of war, whether they were ordered or were the officers who gave the
orders, will be punished." At that
point it became obvious that they would be held responsible for the massacre of
two years earlier. A few days later, in
another meeting, Sakaibara and his officers agreed on a cover story to tell
regarding the murdered 98 civilians. An
American force was coming to take the surrender of the island
The mass grave on Wake lay forgotten for two years, but now
Sakaibara decided to confuse the Americans in any investigation that might
occur. He ordered the dead Americans
moved. His men clumsily extracted the
bones from the ditch and moved them to the U.S. cemetery that had been
established on Peacock Point after the battle.
The remains were dumped into a small single grave. The cemetery was roped off, and wooden
crosses were erected and painted in preparation for the expected arrival of
U.S. forces.
A Japanese Soldier bows at the mass grave of the 98 civilians. Nat Archives |
In accordance with the terms of surrender, Japanese garrisons
were required to hold an official surrender ceremony. Wake Island was no different.
The USS Levy, with a party of Marines, arrived off shore on September 4,
1945. Rear Admiral Sakaibara (he had
been promoted to Admiral near the end of hostilities) sat with Brigadier
General Lawton Sanderson and signed his 1,250 man garrison over to the United
State Marines.
Col Walter L.J. Bayler, reputedly "the last Marine off Wake" in December 1941,
is the first to set foot on the island in 1945. Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 133688 |
Admiral Sakaibara signs surrender papers on board the USS Levy |
US Marines raise the Stars and Stripes over Wake Island on September 4 1945 |
When questioned about the last 98 Americans left on Wake,
each of the Japanese retold an identical rehearsed story. The Americans had been placed in two bomb
shelters to protect them from their countrymen's bombs. One of the shelters had received a direct
hit and all the occupants had been killed.
Those in the other shelter panicked, killed a guard and fought their way
out of their compound. They had been
cornered on the beach at the north end of Wake Island and all had fought to the
death.
"I think my trial was entirely unfair and the
proceeding unfair, and the sentence too harsh, but I obey with pleasure"
Soon after the Japanese surrendered Wake Island on 4
September 1945, Captain Sakaibara and fifteen of his officers and men were
arrested and sent to Kwajalein to stand trial for the murder of the 98
POWs. Two men committed suicide en
route and left statements that implicated the admiral and others. While being held during the trial,
Lieutenant Ito also killed himself and left behind a signed confession. After being confronted with this statement,
Sakaibara finally confessed that he had ordered the murder of the 98 Americans
and stated that all responsibility should rest on his shoulders. The trial concluded with a sentence of death
for Captain Sakaibara and Lieutenant Commander Tachibana.
Eventually, a reprieve was granted for Tachibana, whose
sentence was commuted to life in prison.
Sakaibara, however, was transported to Guam to await his fate. There, on 19 June 1947, he was executed by
hanging along with five other Japanese war criminals. Sakaibara's last statement was filled with Japanese stoicism:
"I think my trial was entirely unfair and the proceeding unfair, and the
sentence too harsh, but I obey with pleasure."
For some, the hanging of one of these six men had
been a horrible tragedy and perhaps even a mistake. Rear Adm. Shigematsu Sakaibara had enjoyed the reputation of
“gentleman soldier” and protector of the common man. Hailing from a wealthy family near Misawa in Tohokhu province,
some 450 miles north of Tokyo, Sakaibara never forgot his roots. Forever poking fun at the fast-paced Tokyo
lifestyle, the rear admiral touted the value of rural living, the integrity and
honesty of those who lived in Japan’s rugged north country, and Tokyo’s need to
recognize their great contributions to the war effort. Contemplating a postwar political future, he
would be following in the footsteps of his politically influential family in
northern Japan. That future was linked
to championing the rights of returning veterans and other have-nots. Misawa had indeed had a heroic reputation as
an important navy town and base for years.
Sakaibara had assisted in the training exercises held there for the
Pearl Harbor attack plan in late 1941. His future seemed golden no matter who
won the war. But what some in his
command called “The 1943 Incident” changed all that.
These events, Sakaibara admitted in his trial, had
taken place in an atmosphere of near starvation and impending doom. The defense counsel especially emphasized
that point, asking the commission to understand and respect the pressures and
strains on Sakaibara at the time of the incident. But the commission was not in a forgiving mood. In the chaos of
retreat or not, innocent civilians had been murdered.
Unfortunately for Sakaibara, several members of
his former command expressed surprise on the witness stand when asked about the
desperate situation on Wake in 1943.
These men insisted that Sakaibara and his defense team’s description of
a starving, chaotic Wake was an exaggerated one. There had been no unexpected miseries, confusion, or sense of
peril, they said. Sakaibara’s fate was
sealed.
True to form, defendant Sakaibara offered a very
literate final statement to the commission.
In contrast to so many of his colleagues on trial in Tokyo, on Guam, or
elsewhere, Sakaibara, albeit with carefully picked words, admitted he was
guilty of rash and unfortunate actions.
He appeared especially convincing when he noted that he wished he had
never heard of Wake Island. But his
most memorable comments involved his own view of morality in war. A nation that drops atom bombs on major
cities, the rear admiral explained, did not have the moral authority to try so
many of his countrymen. With Hiroshima
and Nagasaki in mind, Sakaibara claimed there was little difference between
himself and the victors over Japan.
With that statement a legend grew, particularly in his home town, of
Sakaibara, the victim of American revenge.
As late as the 1990s, some people there, not
necessarily of the World War II generation, still bowed in reverence to
Sakaibara family members out of respect for the “sacrificed” gentleman soldier.
An unidentified Japanese war criminal ascends the gallows in Guam in 1947 |
The war was over, the murders had occurred more than three
years previously, and the public had already been outraged with the news of
similar massacres in the Philippines and in the European Theater. No national acknowledgement of the Wake
Island massacre ever materialized.
In Section G of the Punchbowl National Cemetery in Honolulu
there is a large, flat, marble gravestone.
At 5 by 10 feet it is the largest in the cemetery. On it are listed the names of 178 men. This common grave holds the remains of all
the unidentified military and civilian burials repatriated from Wake Island in
1946. Many of these men were killed
during the siege, and circumstances did not allow proper burial and
identification. Of these names, 98
represent the men who were murdered by the Japanese in October 1943. After several years of unsuccessful attempts
to separate the remains and identify them, they were interred together during a
ceremony at the Punchbowl in 1953.
A large marker at the Punchbowl Cemetery marks the resting place of the 98 and other unidentified American remains from Wake Island Photo by author |
"98 US PW, 5-10-43"
I visited Wake Island for the first time in 1994. The bland black-and-white newsreels of the
Pacific War that had burned into my psyche did not prepare me for the
Technicolor paradise that I encountered at the Wake Island Launch Center air
terminal. A large sign declares
"Wake Island Airfield, Where America's Day Really Begins." Indeed it does, as Wake is on the west side
of the International Date Line. It was
difficult to imagine Wake as the desolate hell that it was in 1941.
I drove past the end of Wake Island, across the causeway to
Wilkes Island, to a point on the map that said "POW Rock." A shiny new sign read: "POW Rock, no
vehicles allowed beyond this point."
A coral gravel walkway led to the shore of the lagoon where a
four-foot-high dome of coral thrusts its way up among smaller boulders. Here an anonymous American chiseled a brief
but poignant message that has come to symbolize the sacrifice of all 98
men. As the afternoon sun tinged the
lagoon with a warm yellow glow, and the surf crashed in the distance, I traced
a roughly chiseled inscription in the rock with my finger. "98 US PW, 5-10-43."
Morrison-Knudsen had installed a bronze tablet that lists
the names of the Ninety-Eight nearby.
This tablet and boulder with its simple inscription has become the
island's memorial for a mass murder that took place nearly 70 years ago.
A bronze tablet list the names of the murdered 98 |
The sun helmet is also a memorial to all Wake Island
defenders, but specifically to those men who autographed it for their comrade,
Glen Binge. The fragile cardboard and
cloth headgear's survival is testimony to the perseverance of those men who
came home, and a cenotaph for those men who died at the hands of a brutal
enemy.
The Glen Binge Wake Island helmet. Courtesy the Glen Binge Family
An earlier post announces the discovery of the massacre site at Wake Island:
|
Thank you. I am the daughter of a POW.
ReplyDeleteSharon Johnson Emerson
That was fantastic reading. I was on Wake for two years and often went over to the rock to just sit and wonder. Your story filled in some blanks for me. Thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteI was on Wake Island in 1968. I have a few pictures that I took while there. Is anyone interested? E-mail Brugor@mac.com.
ReplyDeleteVery interesting article! I am the daughter of Charles F. Atkins Jr, a construction worker and defender of Wake Island.
ReplyDeleteSo glad to find your wonderful article!!! My grandpa, Wilbur Merle Masoner was a heavy equipment construction worker for Morris and Knudson on wake Island. He fought valiantly and was a prisoner who stayed on the island under Japanese command. He worked on building the ditch where the 98 were murdered. My grandpa was one of the last men to board the last ship from wake where he was taken to a prison camp in Japan for the remainder of the war! Forever Heroes!!!
ReplyDelete