July 14, 2000: I am reading a book on the imperial Japanese army called In the Service of the Emperor by Edward J. Drea (Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1998). In chapter 6, "Trained in the Hardest School, Drea explores military training in the imperial Japanese army. Here are some excerpts:
"Besides emperor worship and the daily reading of rescripts to soldiers, the recruits learned that they had to take special care of their equipment, because it came to them from their emperor . . . To further reinforce proper care and maintenance of uniforms and equipment, senior soldiers or NCOs would physically beat their subordinates for the slightest infractions - - a spot of oil on a rifle, a blemish on a bayonet, a button askew, or dirt on white socks, and so forth. . .
Besides adjusting to the incessant bugle calls the recruit had to master the specialized vocabulary of military life. The Japanese army, as in other armed forces, consciously adopted an argot . . . A recruit learned, for instance, that uwagi (jacket) really was guni (military clothing) . . . Naturally, the specialized vocabulary confused the recruits until they could master it. Such confusion was costly, because the senior soldiers looked for pretexts to inflict violence on the new soldiers in the name of installing self-discipline into the newcomers. The emphasis was on discipline and obedience and for the lowest ranking soldiers this meant, in practical terms, constant abuse and beatings. The recruits were always being supervised and petty harassment filled their days. The objective was to reform the personality by making unquestioning obedience second nature.
A new recruit might be ordered to stand at attention - - all day. Forbidden to move, even to relieve himself, the young man would stand motionless for several hours. When the agony became too great, he would collapse and would promptly receive a beating, because he was still supposed to be at attention.
The seniors always looked for indications of the recruit's attitude, speech, and bearing. Soldiers had to stand at attention and answer endless trivial questions such as, "You have time to eat in the Army. Don't you have time for your boots?" "Don't you sleep at night? Since you sleep at night, don't you have time to clean your equipment?" Even answering a question was no guarantee you could avoid being beaten for improper attitude. Seniors beat their subordinates for talking or for remaining silent. Most recruits soon learned the best thing to say was "yes, yes" and accept a few slaps in the face. It was standard practice to beat a soldier while simultaneously explaining the reason for beating him.
Following the evening inspection, the NCOs withdrew, and the corporals, superior privates, and second-year soldiers took charge of their respective barracks. With the day's official duties and formal training completed, this was the ideal time to discipline the young soldiers because nothing and no one would interfere with the enforcement of internal squad discipline.
Their predecessors who had served in the army and returned to the villages had told the first-year soldiers about this thirty to sixty minute period before lights out and warned them that "in the light of the full moon, the second year soldiers turn into demons." This "time of the devils" occurred when the senior soldiers established their own informal tribunals to mete out appropriate punishments to their juniors whose errors and mistakes had embarassed the entire platoon. Although regulations officially forbid the use of violence, these kangaroo courts handed down verdicts of punishments ranging from slappings to beatings.
In this type of corporate, informal punishment, the culprit, although bruised and battered was not totally humiliated because his contemporaries were in the same condition. Besides, he did not have to endure official censure and public humiliation for his actions.
The recruits had plenty of reason to anticipate with trepidation the evening hour when the squad area became the kingdom of the senior soldiers because throughout the day the recruits had countless occasions to make mistakes. Beyond the normal training routines, guaranteed to produce mistakes, the recruits acted as servants for the second-year soldiers. It was the recruits who waited on the common squad room table, brewed tea, carried the platoon leader's settings to the NCOs, and distributed rice and soup from the huge pots brought in by the kitchen workers, as everyone also ate in the barracks. Recruits washed the dishes after meals, swept and scrubbed barracks floors, shined and oiled boots, did the washing and did all the menial tasks for the older soldiers who shared the barracks with them and were thus always available to keep a watchful eye on the newcomers.
The Japanese army trained its recruits and units in four-month segments. The first four months of service equated to basic training, and was keyed to developing individual proficiency of the recruit, unquestioning obedience to orders, and cultivation of self discipline. After the first month of rigorous training, the NCOs told recruits that the second month would be even harsher, to which most recruits probably felt, "If it's any worse than this, they'll probably kill us." The second month toughened the recruits even more and as with any basic training regimen, the NCOs assaulted them with verbal and physical abuse. The physical beatings seem more characteristic of Japanese military training techniques . . . the immediate results could be nasty. Discolored, swollen faces marked the newcomers as each mistake might cost them a slap or a punch.
Even sitting in a class learning about equipment or weapons, an inability to answer instructor's questions could get you slapped. One former artilleryman recalled being tapped gingerly in the face with a rifle cleaning rod if he could not answer his corporal's question. "Everyone's face was black and blue and mine was the worst because I got hit the most. Only my eyes and teeth stood out because the rest of my face was black and blue." Why did the Japanese recruits meekly submit to such indignities? Anyone who went through basic training immediately knows part of the answer. But in this case the fatalistic attitude deeply ingrained in the Japanese - - as expressed by "shikata ga nai" (it can't be helped) allowed them to accept such mistreatment with a more stoic resilience than an American counterpart.