The first two months of our training were devoted to toughening us up and putting us through ground subjects such as the principles of flight, meteorology, aero-engines and some Japanese military history and literature. There were extensive classes held on the various arms and ammunition and drill with the Japanese sword which is the hallmark of an officer. We were taught kendo, the art of sword fighting and there were competitions organised among us.
The daily routine was fairly similar to that of the Preparatory School, but the going was ten times as tough. After having undergone this kind of strenuous training, the routine at the Indian Air Force Academy was honestly a piece of cake.
Ramesh Benegal, recipient of the Maha Vir Chakra, was born in Burma and was seventeen when the Japanese captured British-occupied Burma. He tells this extraordinary, first-person story of his career with the Indian National Army in Burma and Japan in the year from 1941 to 1945.
Community bathing was allowed only a once a week at the Academy baths, and was a special occasion for us. Most Indians are accustomed to daily baths and we had to get used to this change. Admittedly it was terribly cold, and we were not unduly keen to undress to have a bath. But once we relaxed in the steaming bath, we just did not want to get out of it.
We were served reasonable helpings of food, but it was the same unpolished rice with bowls of shiru. This was supplemented with boiled or fried fish or octopus meat, a few vegetables and the now favourite daicon or pickled radish. We acquired a taste for it and forgot how it smelt the first time we were served it on the ship. We had three meals a day and the menu stayed unchanged. This was also the first time that any of us had tasted octopus meat. It was awful, it tasted and felt like chewing gum. The best food was fish. Because we now had quantities of food and generous portions, we were not hungry in the way we had been at the School, but our palates had undoubtedly lost a sense of taste. Daicon was so unlike the radish we were used to in Burma and Malaya. These radishes were very large, about the size of a leg of mutton. We were told this growth was achieved because they made copious use of human manure in the farms.
By the third month of our training, things started to look up. We started learning the art of gliding. Because there was a need to conserve fuel during the war, training was initially restricted to the use of gliders to give the new recruit an introduction to learning the technique of landing an aircraft. We were required to carry out 34 landings each before graduating on to the power-driven aircraft, the Aka Tombo.
In the initial stages, gliding was extremely hard work. The glider was held fast by a rope tied to a stake in the ground. The front end was hooked to two long elastic ropes; eight of us pulled this rope until it was stretched fully. Then the ninth let go the restraining cord at the back, and the tenth, who was in the seat of the open cockpit glider, took off and was airborne. Pressing a pedal released the hook of the elastic ropes and enabled us to execute a landing.One day our sergeant who had been watching us for months, thought that the whole thing was easy and he decided to have a go at flying a glider. He almost killed himself. He had no idea of the controls and when he got airborne he took off vertically, rose twenty-five feet and then came crashing down. He was lucky not to have sustained any serious injury, but the glider was a write-off. The man got into serious trouble for this unauthorised flight.
Air Raids Begin
It was during the final stages of our gliding course that the first of the heavy air raids started. Initially they were restricted to night raids only, which meant that we spent the major part of the night in the underground shelters. This was torture as far as we concerned. As soon as the air raid warning sounded we had to get out of our warm beds and our four-blanket covers, change into our uniforms (not forgetting to tie the puttees) grab our rifles and rush out into the bitter sub-zero cold—and all this in pitch darkness. However, when the frequency of the raids increased in the later stages, this became routine and most of us could have done it in our sleep.
Until March 1945, all American air raids were directed mainly at industrial and defence targets, and life in the cities was normal.
Strategic bombing of the Japanese mainland was a difficult proposition for the United States in the early phase of the War, mainly because of the distance from their air bases. After mid-1944, the Americans managed, step by step, to recapture the island bases of Guam, Saipan and Tinian. Distance was still a problem. Then in early 1945, the Marianas became their main airbase as the tide slowly turned in favour of the Americans, and more and more island territories were captured by them. Another factor in their favour was the amazing capability and capacity of the American aircraft industry. It was recorded after the War that nearly 2,000 B-29 aircraft were required to keep about 550 of them in the air at a time. And I am an eyewitness to the fact that they did send more than that number in raids over Japan.
The B-29 Super Fortress was a beauty to look at as it flew gracefully on its deadly missions, bristling with gun turrets in its tail, belly and topside. We were witness to many a Japanese fighter being shot out of the sky when it went closer to an intercept, but very soon the Japanese pilots must have devised new attack techniques, because we now saw the reverse. We witnessed a lone B-29 bomber being hounded by a pack of tiny-looking fighters and it went down in flames. This happened many times. It was only when the B-29s started coming en masse, escorted by large numbers of naval fighters from the US Navy aircraft carriers, that the air superiority of the Americans became an established fact. This was in the final stages of the War.
Until March 1945, all American air raids were directed mainly at industrial and defence targets, and life in the cities was normal. But on 9 March, a night to remember with sadness, wave after wave of B-29 bombers attacked the capital Tokyo, and to their everlasting shame, dropped many thousands of incendiaries in the most densely populated areas of the city. It created intense havoc among the poor civilians. Tokyo Radio reported large-scale deaths and injuries as the people were not prepared for such attacks. Not satisfied with the gargantuan killing of innocent civilians, more such raids followed till the end of the May that year.
Between March and May, Tokyo Radio reported that over 750,000 dwellings had been destroyed (it must be remembered that most of the houses were made of wood and paper) and over 3 million people made homeless. All this in Tokyo alone. They did the same in Nagoya, Yokohama, Kobe, Osaka and other cities. There is a saying that everything is fair in love and war, but this was impossible to understand and forgive. Of course the ultimate infamy was the use of the atom bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but we will come to that later.
“¦our lives in the Academy, life slowly became hell. It was a normal routine in the day and sleepless nights in the underground shelter.
On 9 March and on subsequent occasions when the fires raged at night over Tokyo, we who were well north of the place could still see the fiery glow at night. Twenty years later, in 1965, I had an opportunity to see some of these raids in an actual war film from the US Air Force library at Randolph Airforce Base in San Antonio, Texas, where I had been sent by the Indian Air Force to undergo the Instrument Pilot Instructors’ Course. Even to those pilots dropping the incendiary bombs, the sight must have been horrific. It was just a case of dropping a shower of incendiaries in a concentrated area and the waves of aircraft which followed just carried on from there in carpet-bombing fashion.
To get back to our lives in the Academy, life slowly became hell. It was a normal routine in the day and sleepless nights in the underground shelter. We were at the stage of having completed our glider training and eagerly awaited the training with power-driven aircraft that was soon to begin.
For some reason that I don’t recollect now, we had not booked out of camp for months. We were allowed out once a month on a Sunday, but escorted by the captain and his men to secluded parks or hillsides. It was more like an organised picnic. The Japanese countryside is beautiful and clean. There is no barren area at all as every piece of arable land is utilised to the full to grow fruit, staple crop and vegetables. But the Japanese used human manure as fertilizer and the problem with walking through a beautiful field was the pervasive stench.
As we were walking to the nearest tube station, there was an air raid. We had no time to run for shelter.
One Sunday, our captain decided to take us to his house. On the way there in the local train, there was an air raid. The train stopped and all the passengers scrambled into the fields and lay flat on the ground. We followed. A US naval carrier-based aircraft carried out a pass on the train with its front-gun and pulled away.
There was no second attack as either the fighter had run out of ammunition or was short of fuel. The passengers calmly boarded the train and we resumed our journey and reached our destination. It was as if nothing had happened. The Americans admitted after the War that in spite of the large-scale raids and bombing carried out by them, the Tokyo train service never fell below 40 per cent of its normal capacity.
On another occasion, we were invited to an event at the Indian Independence League Headquarters in Tokyo. We were very excited about the trip as it would be a break from the routine of the Academy. Accompanied by our Sergeant, we left by train for this place which was situated in the heart of Tokyo. The event itself was not very interesting, but it afforded an opportunity to meet some of the local Indians.
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When it was over and as we were walking to the nearest tube station, there was an air raid. We had no time to run for shelter. As soon as we heard the rattle of guns and the noise of bombs exploding nearby, we just flattened ourselves on the pavement, and not a moment too soon, as it turned out. Bimal Deb was a little late taking cover and yelled out that he had been hit. He was taken to the hospital at the Academy, and they found a tiny piece of shrapnel embedded in his thigh. He underwent an operation and the offending piece was removed. He kept the piece as a memento, but it was so small that one needed a magnifying glass to view it. It is amazing that this was the only injury suffered by any of us during all this massive bombing and strafing that took place in our part of town. I guess we were just lucky.
Manoeuvres and Other Exercises
We were very keen to visit the Army Academy and enjoy a reunion with our army colleagues, but it never materialised. Instead, seven of them visited us at the Academy, and we had an interesting time exchanging experiences. Some of the stories they told us were most amusing. It appears that when they were on manoeuvres, one of the exercises entailed that they make their own way back to a rendezvous, successfully avoiding ‘the enemy’. One unlucky cadet, whom I shall not name, fell into a sewage storage pit in the fields. He yelled for help from his comrades, but no one was willing to lend him a hand as he was covered in sewage from head to toe. He somehow managed to haul himself out of the pit, successfully evaded ‘the enemy’ (no enemy soldier wanted to capture him in this state!) and reached the ‘rendezvous’ safely, only to be reprimanded by the officer and punished for the state of his uniform and the condition of his rifle.
We had not slept much the night before because of a long-drawn air raid, the drill was not going too well. The Captain was frustrated and made us repeat each exercise several times over.
We did have a hearty laugh over this episode, but I can quite imagine what he must have gone through. He scrubbed and cleaned himself thoroughly and wore a new uniform but his so-called friends reportedly kept a safe distance from him for two or three days until the incident was forgotten.
The other stories they told us were about how they were slapped by their seniors for not saluting properly, and how, now that they were seniors, some of them had meted out the same treatment to their juniors. They were surprised and envious of us when they saw how well we were being treated at the Air Force Academy. A few days prior to their visit they had been promoted to full-corporal rank and now sported two stars on their collar tabs. So they were superior to us on this count. Though we were extremely jealous at this developement, in two months’ time, we too were given two stars—though there was no one to show these off to!
Life in the Academy had its peaceful side. Adjacent to our barracks, which was last in a row of buildings, there was a flower-hedged lawn with a Japanese arch or gate at one end. This was an open-air Shinto temple, and cadets of many different religions went there to pray. The nice thing about the temple was that except for the arch, there were no idols, no incense burning, no priest and no preaching. We were regular visitors here when we were free in the evenings.
The nice thing about the temple was that except for the arch, there were no idols, no incense burning, no priest and no preaching.
Towards the end of our first term in the Academy, we were required to go on a three-day trek, with full pack and rifle, and live off the hospitality of villagers we encountered en-route. This was the last major exercise which concluded the first phase of our training. The second term was devoted entirely to flying and to technical subjects connected with flying.
Just before we went on our trek, we decided to practise our sword drill. For some reason, perhaps because we had not slept much the night before because of a long-drawn air raid, the drill was not going too well. The Captain was frustrated and made us repeat each exercise several times over. At every attempt, at least one of us would make a silly mistake and spoil the joint effort. The Captain was red in the face and was just waiting to vent his anger on someone when suddenly he saw his opportunity. A junior cadet happened to pass by just then. The cadet had probably never seen foreign cadets before, so he stood to stare at us and forgot to salute. Apart from the fact that he should have saluted us since we were his seniors now, he had failed to salute a full-blown Captain, and he definitely could not be ignored.
The Captain, who was already near boiling point, exploded. He shouted at the cadet to stop staring at us, walked up to him and slapped him on both sides of his face with such force that his face started to bleed. He then harangued with him for a couple of minutes and then made him march past us twice and salute us. All of us felt very sorry for the cadet. If the Captain had done this to impress us, we thought, he was thoroughly mistaken. All of us felt only disgust at his violent behaviour. The Captain soon realised this and strode out to his room, leaving the Sergeant to conclude our exercise session.
A Three-day Adventure
On the day we started out on the three-day manoeuvre, we were given a rectangular wood-framed rucksack each. It contained our rations, clothes, blankets and ammo. Whoever designed and manufactured these rucksacks must have been a sadist. Apart from the fact that they were very uncomfortable when strapped to our backs, the sharp edges of the frame cut through our clothes and lacerated our backs and shoulders. The pack weighed only about 25 lb, but in the space of two hours, we felt as if it weighed a ton, and with each step or movement, the edges cut in deeper. So much for the rucksacks.
When we did reach the top, we were surprised to find a monastery there and near it a large statue of Buddha carved from a single piece of stone.
The first part of the trip was on even terrain, but by afternoon we realised that we had to cross a small hill to get over to the other side. The climb was steep and there wasn’t much of a path. When we did reach the top, we were surprised to find a monastery there and near it a large statue of Buddha carved from a single piece of stone. We asked the head monk how such a large and heavy statue had been brought all the way up. He didn’t know, and said, vaguely, that it happened long ago and the people must have used ropes and tackle..
We rested there for a while before making the descent, and in the early hours of the evening, we reached our first village. Our instructions were that we were to separate into twos and walk into any of the village houses, explain to the villagers who we were and ask for shelter for the night.
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We followed these orders and two of us entered a small farmhouse. It had a courtyard, a well and a barn which also housed a bath. The Air Force Academy had been in existence for years, and all the villages around had been accustomed to cadets coming to the villages on their manoeuvres and inviting themselves in for the night. So this family was happy to entertain us, the more so because we were foreign cadets, and we were Indians from the land of Buddha. It was typical of Japanese custom and hospitality that the farmer asked his whole family to come out and meet us, and each one was introduced to us with a lot of bowing on both sides. The woman of the house then went to prepare the bath for us. We had been told that because there were shortages in the country, we should share our dry rations with the families when they prepared our meal. The family in this house refused to accept our rations, but we insisted that they did and told them those were our orders.
“¦but Okinawa, the well-defended bastion, held out against the might of the US Navy and the bombing by the US Air Force.
After a welcome hot bath, we sat with the men and had green tea. They talked about the War, and were convinced that Japan would win and that everything would be peaceful again. The women had retired to cook the evening meal. By 8.30, we sat round a low table and were served a delicious dinner. The woman of the house made sure that she used all that was grown on their farm, so we had potatoes and vegetables we had not tasted in years. Rice and shiru and the sweet at the end completed the menu. It was only after we had eaten that the family ate. Such was their hospitality.
After this they made our beds, and it was obvious that the best linen in the house had been brought out for our use. In the morning, we were given hot water for a wash, and were served tea and rice balls for breakfast. We thanked our hosts most wholeheartedly and left for the next leg of our trek.
Over the next two days we enjoyed ourselves even more, and as the rations got consumed, our packs became lighter, a great mercy. But by the time we returned to the Academy in anticipation of a well-earned rest, the War situation had changed dramatically.
The island of Iwo Jima had fallen into the hands of the Americans earlier, but Okinawa, the well-defended bastion, held out against the might of the US Navy and the bombing by the US Air Force. The Americans were however making headway and through their newly acquired air base at Iwo Jima, they were now deploying fighter aircraft to not only escort the B-29 bombers but to carry out strikes on targets in Okinawa and the Kyushu islands.
The Kamikaze
To counteract the rapid American advance, a large number of volunteers came forward to join the Kamikaze squad. ‘Kamikaze’ literally translates ‘God-wind’ or ‘the wind sent by God’. The expression and the practice belonged to earlier times, but became famous during the Russia–Japanese War in 1904–05. At one point, the Russian fleet was closing in and was heading for the shores of Japan. We were told that the Japanese had lined up on the shores with spears and bamboo staves in a last-ditch effort to defend the country from intruders, when all of a sudden, a typhoon of very high intensity materialised and wrecked the relatively flimsy craft of the invading Russian fleet, thus saving Japan and ensuring their ultimate victory in the war.
The kamikaze pilots were all voluntary, ready to give up their lives to save their country from defeat. The modus operandi was for them to fly their bomb-laden aircraft directly onto the enemy ships and voluntarily lose their lives in the attack. Later this process was modified with the ‘baka’ bomb. ‘Baka’ literally means ‘fool’ and to this day, the rejuvenated Japanese defence air force personnel do not approve of the word being used to describe what is still considered one of the glorious chapters of their air force history. They preferred the word ‘ohka’.
The ohka was a short-range rocket-assisted aircraft carrying more than a ton of explosives in its nose. The pilot’s controls consisted of only a joystick for elevator and aileron movement and a pair of pedals to operate the rudder and nothing else, not a single instrument. This aircraft was slung under its mother aircraft, a medium bomber, and then directed in a rocket-assisted dive onto the target, by its suicide pilot. The manoeuvre was thought of because of the colossal losses in aircraft when other methods were used. It is now believed that the use of this kamikaze baka bomb might have been more effective if they had heeded the advice of the Japanese technicians who had recommended that a more powerful war-head be used.
The kamikaze pilots were all voluntary, ready to give up their lives to save their country from defeat. The modus operandi was for them to fly their bomb-laden aircraft directly onto the enemy ships and voluntarily lose their lives in the attack.
Despite this drawback, the kamikaze attacks did extensive damage to the US fleet, and warships of all categories were damaged, including aircraft carriers. Some battleships and destroyers were even sunk. Naturally, this kind of sacrifice by young trained pilots, could not go on forever. One has to admire the selfless courage of these young men who consciously and willingly went to their deaths for their country.
One of the unique methods the American Navy employed in trying to evade these kamikaze attacks was setting up a barrage of water-spray operations with powerful pumps and hoses all around the store ship, thus making it difficult for the kamikaze pilot to aim at any vital part when he came in for the final suicide dive.
Those who volunteered to be in the kamikaze squad were treated like heroes. They wore a distinguishing headband imprinted with the rising sun, a sign which marked them out from the others. A few of them lived in the Academy, and I had long conversations with them. They all seemed very certain about their choice of role, and did not show any sign of fear or regret. We regarded them with awe.
A few days prior to their being detailed for the sortie that was to be their final one, they were allowed to have whatever they wanted. Then, for two days, they were segregated from other groups and allowed to meet only their family and close friends. On the final day, they were briefed, said their prayers and took off on the one-way mission.
A mock transport aircraft plane had been assembled near our gliding hangar, and the area was cordoned off. Because of the trees surrounding the area, we could not hear the noise of dummy-rounds being fired and the shouts of ‘Banzai’ (victory). It was much later that we came to know what it was all about. It was a session that only the Japanese in their desperate position could have thought of. A plane carrying highly trained commandos was actually attempting to land on the American Okinawa air base in a lightning suicide attack, trying to destroy as many aircraft as it could on the ground. It is true that years later, Israel did the same at Entebbe, but that was not a world war or a war against a powerful enemy, or at such a well-defended base.
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