And It has Come to War

Chapter One

It was just after ten on a bright Sunday morning on December seventh, 1941. A time which found me, seventeen year old Sara Laster, listening to Sammy Kaye's Sunday Serenade while sitting at the kitchen table. It was the one radio program that my parents allowed us to listen to on Sundays while preparing for lunch, being as they were God fearing folk and both my father and mother being both ex-Missionaries to the Far East. For them the idea of idle hands on the Lords Day was unacceptable, they had just returned from services and I was still recovering from a bad fever, thus I had remained home in the trust of my little brother Jacob. Now mother was placing food on the table, so it was time to turn off the radio for today. As she reached for the extended speakers knob an excited announcement broke in over the ending music.

“From the NBC Newsroom in New York” the announcer said. Something about his voice stayed mothers hand, even with the dark look her father gave her. “President Roosevelt said in a statement today, that the Japanese have attacked the Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, from the air. “

I gasped in horror, my tight missionary style clothing restricting my ability to breath so violently, thus causing me to faint to the floor at that news. Thus I missed the rest of the announcement, to awake later in my bed, my clothing still being loosed by my sister Mary. “It was real?” I asked her, “Not another fever dream?”

“It is real little sister” Mary acknowledged. “Japan has attacked us, we are now at war. Now calm yourself, Mother promises to save food for when you feel better.”

“But I was born in Japan” I reminded Mary, as if she could ever forget that. “I am still legally a Japanese citizen.”

“Born to American citizens” Mary again reminded me for the how many times now? “Just because you speak the language like a native, and you understand that Shinto and Buddhist trash that they call a religion, that doesn’t make you one of those dirty little yellow monkeys. Now lay down and relax, I will bring you water and a plate after everyone is done. Just rest, please?”

So I did as she was ordered, but thought back to those years in Japan. I had been raised by an elderly Japanese woman while our parents traveled the country. They were speaking their Gods word in the places allowed, and occasionally not. Eventually they were caught in the act by the local police, teaching in a place that they well knew they were not allowed and for that they had spent the next fifteen years in jail. All for breaking the well published Japanese law by openly holding services in a forbidden place. Sixteen years from my birth passed while we were raised by another local native woman. A woman who had refused to speak English after our parents arrest, refused because she had been ordered not to. What did horrify my parents was that I had taken to the culture, had become more Japanese than American long before they were released, then the family had been thrown out of the country with but the clothing on our backs. They had almost not been allowed to take me with them so well had I accepted their culture. I certainly had no interest in the Christian religion, or English.

That had been a year ago, my parents had dragged us to Metazoa Wyoming to recover, for both of them were of ill health at the time, and the local church here welcomed them as Pastor and wife. Of course it had been in the boondocks, but our parents wanted no contact with ‘foreign people’ anymore. It had taken time, but I now understood that something very bad had happened to both of my parents while in jail. Yet they never spoke of it, even though their opinions of all Japanese had turned dark. They would not allow me or my siblings to speak one word of the language that we had learned, had spent much of our lives conversing in, nor mention anything about Japan at all. When we did it was always a dozen lashes with our fathers belt across our backs. This was especially hard for me at the time because I knew only a very few words of English upon returning to America. It was a language beaten into me and thus one that I never liked.

But Japan attacking America? Like my siblings I had many friends in Japan and even though few of the boys had looked upon me as more than light friend material, certainly not more, what with my being non-Japanese I had still managed to make several close friendships with many of the girls. What would happen to them I wondered, what had already happened to them. I had managed the odd letter slipped out now and then while shopping in Cody every three months, but had never had a reply. That of course was because I was careful never to give my address, having been whipped until I bled simply for mentioning my friends I had a great fear of what would happen should one send me a letter. Thus I had learned to be careful, still I had written dozens of letters to take with me to town, explaining my trips to the local post office as buying stamps in bulk for fathers monthly religious newsletter. He thought that because of my looks I would be given better service.

Now though, I lay in my shared bed, looking up at the water stained plaster ceiling above me as I wondered, what was going to happen to her friends in Yubari. Yubari was a coal mining town and had been expected to be the perfect target for fathers brand of fire and brimstone preaching. It hadn’t been, the Japanese were nothing like Europeans, or even the Chinese and his decision had cost the entire family heavily when the local police had finally run out of patience with these ‘Gajin.’ Gajin who had arrived unannounced, uninvited and unwanted.

I had actually been born a month after my families arrival on the Japanese shore and was the youngest of the Laster brood, my parents having been arrested when I was but eleven months old. Thus my entire childhood, my entire life so far had been lived in Yubari, I spoke Japanese like a native and could in fact pass as Japanese and had many times in the markets, as long as no one saw my face or skin. I attended Temple, both Buddhist and Shinto just like everyone except my siblings, I was Japanese in all but blood. Yet even so my mind raced as I wondered what I could do to help my new country, and at the same time my friends in Japan. Though my mind raced freely eventually I had to admit that I had no idea as to what my best efforts could preform, what possible talent or skill I might have that this new country might finde useful. I was only one person, and only a girl after all.

At a loss I decided that the first chance that I had I would try to sign up with the military. That though wouldn’t be until my father ceased watching me like a hawk, because I was youngest and hadn’t been molded all my life by his beliefs and rough hand, though he had tried hard once we reached this Godforsaken land. It was late when I felt well enough to leave my bed, to find father and my brothers missing, so locating mother, who was in the kitchen, I asked where they were.

“They have all gone to Cody to join the Army” mother explained softly. “I fear that your father will be disappointed, for they will not take half a man after all.”

At the time I had no understanding of what ‘Half a Man’ meant, later, in the months to come I would learn and it would explain why my parents bedroom was silent since they had returned to me. That tho was knowledge which would simply partially explain my parents hate for the land that I so loved, it had little real affect upon my following decisions. You see my birthday was coming and I wanted to follow my brothers.