Thomas Taro Higa – Memoirs

Thomas “Taro” Higa was an original member of the 100th Infantry Battalion (Separate), serving on three continents during the turbulent years of World War II. Originally a member of Company E which was dissolved in December 1943 due to the heavy casualties sustained by the 100th Infantry Battalion during its first months of fighting in Italy, he later served with Company A.

This biographical profile was written in 2026 by his daughter, Elsie Higa Yoshimura, and son, Dr. Nolan Higa, and incorporates excerpts from his autobiographical works, “Aru Nisei no Wadachi” (1982), and “Memoirs of a Certain Nisei” (1988).

Note to readers: This section includes firsthand accounts from World War II, with descriptions of combat, injuries, and death. Some content may be upsetting. Discretion is advised.

From Kahaluʻu to Okinawa

In Hawaiʻi, on September 22, 1916, Higa was born to issei (first-generation) Okinawan immigrant parents, Kamezo and Kana Higa. At the age of three, he was taken to Okinawa together with two elder siblings to be raised by his grandparents. his was to enable his parents to work the family’s farm in Hawaiʻi freely without having to worry about the children.

When he was eight years old, Higa’s grandmother who he was extremely fond of, passed away. It was from her that he learned about the cherished bonds formed within the Okinawan culture of sharing and caring for others in your inner circle and beyond. Higa was able to finish his third grade of elementary school which turned out to be the last year of his formal education.

Higa was soon to depart to work in Osaka with his cousin, as his grandfather could no longer take care of him. While saying ‘farewell’ to his sensei (teacher), Shosei Kina, who knew that the young boy would be facing many challenges in his life, Higa was given a lasting lesson. His sensei pointed out the fact that the banyan tree over their heads at Kishaba Elementary School could withstand fierce storms when typhoons hit, yet it could give shade and comfort to people, because of its resilience in the harshest of times.

This talk with his sensei occurred in Shimabuku Village (currently Kitanakagusuku Village). It was under this banyan tree that Higa made a promise to his sensei:

“I will always try to help others around me — the village, community, and the country. I want to make a difference and make the world a better place!”

This profound promise was made by Thomas Taro Higa at the tender age of nine, under his school’s towering banyan tree.

Hawaii National Guard – 298th Infantry Regiment (1941-1942)

Higa returned to Hawaiʻi two years later and worked on the family farm in Kahaluʻu, Oʻahu. He was drafted into the U.S. Army in June 1941 and served in the 298th Infantry Regiment of the Hawaii National Guard.

Early Sunday morning on December 7, according to his memoirs, Higa woke up at home to the furious whirring sounds of airplanes. He heard a thunderous sound coming from the direction of Kāneʻohe Air Base. The eastern sky, which should have been bright with the sunrise, was covered with thick, black clouds of smoke.

As the thunderous sound continued, fighter planes passed overhead. Some of them flew over the Koʻolau Mountains, and some of them proceeded straight to Kāneʻohe Air Base. They seemed to be alternating their attacks between Pearl Harbor and Kāneʻohe.

Higa watched the planes with admiration initially, thinking this was a joint drill between the Army, Navy, and the Air Force. However, when a shell from an anti-aircraft gun exploded not far from where he was standing, he became angry, thinking it was dangerous to simulate actual warfare in populated areas.

Together with other segregated American soldiers of Japanese ancestry (AJA) of the Hawaiian Provisional Infantry Battalion, Higa departed Honolulu Harbor at 3:00 in the afternoon of June 5, 1942, with no notification of destination. Before leaving, there were farewell parties, and Higa later reflected that, at that time, he never thought about the forthcoming hardships so was able to be hopeful and courageous.

Even so, Higa recalled that it was a lonely departure for most of the soldiers with no one to see them off. The USAT Maui was waiting for them at the pier. According to Hawaiian legend, receiving a lei before one’s journey had great significance. If, after the ship leaves the harbor and the lei is thrown out to sea, it returns to shore, the recipient of that lei will also return to Hawaiʻi. Perhaps no one really believed in that legend, but at the time of our departure, Higa thought he was not the only one yearning for a lei.

As the ship set out to sea, Higa looked at the dark green Koʻolau Mountains, no less majestic than Diamond Head, the symbol of Honolulu. He thought of the farmlands and industrial areas supporting many Japanese American families surrounding it and said, “Please take care of the many Japanese Americans whom you embrace.”

Even after Honolulu was out of sight, the soldiers did not leave the deck. Higa said the soldiers did not even talk among themselves. When it darkened, they began to feel better as here and there, men were engaging in conversation. The first words out of the soldiers’ mouths indicated concern for their future. “What will happen to us?”

At the same time, the men were worried about the people remaining in the islands, especially their issei parents who did not understand English at all. How could they live in a world where the Japanese language was forbidden? If they were caught speaking Japanese with their friends on buses or on the street, they were tormented with commands of “Speak English!”

Creation of the 100th Infantry Battalion (Separate) and More Training

On June 12, seven days after leaving Honolulu, the ship reached northern California. When it approached the entrance of San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge came into sight. Immediately, the gloomy atmosphere of the ship changed. Higa was excited to see the mainland for the first time. Higa recalled that emotions had been especially intense because of a rumor that their ship, the Maui, was to be sent to the bottom of the Pacific with all of the Japanese American soldiers aboard.

The ship soon came alongside a pier in Oakland. The soldiers were to be divided and put aboard three long trains. Until a moment before, Higa had been longing to leave the ship, step on the continent, and grasp fully the meaning of being alive. However, when it was time to bid farewell to the ship, he had a difficult time. The ship which had carried them safely from Honolulu seemed to hold the lingering fragrance of Hawaiʻi. As this group of segregated nisei soldiers boarded the trains to be transported to the Midwest for further basic training, the group was now known as the 100th Infantry Battalion (Separate).

About three days later, they arrived at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin. Until the trains were out of California, all the windows were closed. Almost anything could have happened if people discovered that Japanese Americans were aboard the trains.

Visit to Camp Livingston

When given leave while stationed at Camp McCoy in 1942, Higa went to visit his former teacher, Giichi Sasaki, who was then interned at Camp Livingston in Louisiana. While waiting for his train back, Higa was suddenly arrested by the Military Police, despite being in U.S. Army uniform.

Higa later recalled this experience in Louisiana:

“The southern states were known for severe racial problems and we were told that we had to be prepared for danger. Some people dared not go to see even their parents who were interned there. It took me two days to reach Camp Livingston. I filled out the necessary forms at the gate and entered the camp, which was guarded by three layers of barbed wire. Although I was very excited to see Sasaki, I felt that the interview was somehow reserved. I knew why. A camp attendant was with us, taking detailed notes of our conversation. We had to be cautious.”

The two were able to share a meal together before saying farewell. Higa returned by bus to the Alexandria train station, and with an hour to spare before the night train arrived, walked around the neighborhood, and read a guidebook.

“Suddenly two plainclothesmen grabbed my hands from my side, pulled them behind me and handcuffed me. They did not give me an opportunity to say anything. Although I did not understand what was happening, I did not resist. This seemed to surprise the plainclothesmen.

An old newspaper vendor was yelling from a stand across the way, ‘He is the one. He is the one. No mistake.’ I knew he was the one who had called the police. Since my hands were behind me and I was between two big men, I was unable to do anything. An MP (Military Police) declared, ‘You are a Jap spy.’ Without any notice, a fire engine had arrived. There were soldiers armed with automatic rifles or light machine guns, and newspapermen with cameras. The situation was imposing.

I tried to tell them that I was not a spy but a U.S. soldier and to look at my uniform, but it fell upon deaf ears. It seems that they had been waiting for me since I had left the train to visit the concentration camp (Camp Livingston). When I passed by the newspaper stand with my hands in handcuffs, the old man moved backward with an expression of terror on his face, as if he feared that I would jump at him with some supernatural power. I had been taking pictures here and there with a small camera during my trip and that seemed to be the reason I was suspect.”

Higa was thrown into jail, deprived of his possessions, and interrogated. While he spent the night in a jail cell, the officials checked his belongings and confirmed his identity with Camp McCoy. He was awoken by the sound of the iron door to his cell being unlocked.

Higa recalled:

“They said very simply, ‘we will let you out. You’re free to go.’

I was unable to accept this.

I said, ‘No. I won’t get out. I won’t leave until you give me three minutes to talk to everyone here. Then, you will be rid of me!’”

As Higa had spent most of his early life in Okinawa, Osaka, and Tokyo, he was a kibei-nisei (born in America and spent time in Okinawa during formative years) who spoke English with a Japanese accent. In his memoirs, he writes that he “harangued them in my poor English,” and summarizes his three-minute speech:

“THE THREE MINUTE SPEECH. ‘I am not a ‘Jap spy’ as you called me. I am a Japanese American. I have no intention of accusing the old man at the newspaper stand who turned me in saying ‘He might be a spy.’ It is the people’s duty to inform the authorities when they have any doubt about a stranger during wartime.

However, I am wearing a U.S. military uniform. How dare you call me a ‘Jap spy’ while I’m wearing this uniform! Don’t you think it a shame? Moreover, if I were a true spy, could you really use machine guns in such a crowded place? Maybe you brought them there in order to scare me. However, if I were a real spy, I would not be afraid of those kinds of things. You should learn to deal better with this kind of an emergency. I would like you to consider this matter more carefully and not act carelessly in the future as you did this time. If you have anything to say to me, let me hear it.’”

Higa added:

“The captain in charge repeated sincerely, ‘I am sorry,’ humbling himself by bending his big body over as if trying to appear small. At the station, I was seized by a new terror. I thought the MP’s might take revenge on me for yelling at them at the jail. I tried to mingle in the crowd and nervously waited for the train. When I got on the train, I was still afraid that I might be attacked and sat restlessly in my seat. I felt relieved when, at last, the train arrived in Little Rock.”

Atlantic Crossing (1943)

The 100th trained for over 14 months at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, and Camp Shelby, Mississippi. On August 21, 1943, the 100th departed New York aboard the transport ship, James Parker. No one in the 100th Infantry Battalion had any inkling as to the kind of hardships they were to face. They left their destinies to heaven.

Higa recalled that in addition to the 100th, there were about 2,500 Caucasian soldiers on board. The ship was extremely crowded with about 4,000 soldiers. Moreover, it was a journey to an unknown destination. There was a great deal of tension on the ship.

After passing the Statue of Liberty, the ship headed straight to the battle front. Enraptured by the Statue of Liberty which soared into heaven, Higa could not help but ask himself, “What is liberty?” They were being sent to the battlefield to protect ‘liberty’ and ‘democracy.’ Would they be obtained after people risked their lives in battle?

Higa thought:

“We went to war for the sake of our brethren who were confined in incarceration camps in Hawaiʻi and on the mainland. We experienced anguish since we were unable to control our fate. However, those brethren who were confined suffered more than us.”

Unlike the Maui, the James Parker (later called The President Hoover) was overloaded with men, weapons and other necessities to be transported to Europe. As such, the only place for the soldiers was the deck where they stood like poles. Even to go to the bathroom, they needed to elbow their way through since thousands were on deck.

The soldiers were divided into Group A and Group B and took turns using the berths. While Group A was sleeping, Group B was on deck and vice versa. If they dared to sit down on deck, an MP prodded them with a stick saying, “get off your butts and stand up.” Until then, they did not know how long twelve hours was. To stand for twelve hours was actually more painful than can be expressed by the words ‘difficult’ and ‘awful.’

They searched for where the jeeps were stored in order to find space on or under them to rest. When they found those jeeps, the deck became more spacious and they had a place to sit.

They were forced to wear extremely large life jackets for 24-hours a day while aboard ship. The life jackets may have been bearable if size was the only issue, but they smelled so badly that the soldiers felt almost like vomiting. It seemed that none of the jackets had ever been washed during the several years they had been used. They were as dirty as could be with oil, dirt, vomit, paint, and sea water. With the stench coming into the soldiers’ nostrils, mouths and eyes, even hardy ones were totally repulsed. The penalty for removing a life jacket was KP (Kitchen Police) duty. They were already exhausted from seasickness and KP was a terrible burden. As a result, few ever dared to take their smelly jackets off.

The boys from Hawaiʻi were proud of being superior swimmers but were no better at handling this voyage than any of the other people. Seasickness tortured not only the Japanese American soldiers but the Caucasians as well. It was a terrible voyage across the Atlantic Ocean without any redeeming qualities. Higa later said, “The reason we managed to suffer through it was that the loud speaker, which continuously blared out noisy emergency drills, kept us occupied.”

North Africa Arrival

On September 2, 1943, the ship entered the Mediterranean Sea after passing through the Strait of Gibraltar and finally arrived at Oran, Algeria, in North Africa. The soldiers disembarked but needed to wait for several hours on the pier. Higa said he did not feel any sentimentality on departing the ship as he had felt when saying farewell to the Maui. Higa later said, “We had all grown accustomed to waiting. We had to walk, fully equipped, to waiting military trucks.”

The soldiers camped in the mountains distant from towns and villages. Each soldier was rationed two bottles of Coca Cola per week which was bought at a concession. They were told not to drink water or eat outside. They were told never to go out alone and, instead, use the ‘Buddy System.’ And, they were told not to approach women nor allow the women to approach them. (There was a danger that the local men might lynch those who approached their women.)

Soon, the men were going to the front line where a life-and-death struggle awaited them. The thought had a sobering effect on everyone.

Beach Landing at Salerno

The voyage from Oran, Algeria, to Salerno, Italy, took only two days. At noon on September 22, 1943, the soldiers reached Salerno Beach in the southern part of central Italy.

Higa recollected:

“It was there that we took our first step onto European soil. The ship did not dock at a pier, but thrust its bow onto the beautiful beach. It was much like Waikiki Beach except that destroyed tanks and transport ships were still here and there emitting white smoke that told well about the intensity of a previous battle. The bow opened up and the soldiers with their equipment in hand made their exit. We went ashore in water up to our chests while holding our rifles and belongings over our heads. Not far away, the thundering exchange of gunfire and intermittent crackle of machine guns could be heard.”

Higa said that within the week, they were thrust into battle.

“Day after day, we ceaselessly marched onward. We reached new limits of physical endurance. In complete darkness we walked through the mire, step by step, following closely the person in front of us, so as not to lose sight of him. We had to move in absolute silence, making it even harder to follow. Though our feet moved mechanically, our conscious minds were asleep due to extreme exhaustion and drowsiness. It is difficult to conceive that one can sleep while walking, but after an hour or so, it is possible to regain one’s strength. I experienced this for the first time.”

It was during October, the middle of autumn, when they marched through the mountains of Italy. Though it was not very hot, one cup of water was not sufficient to sustain them for three days and three nights. Their food was composed of compressed solids, and they needed water to wash it down. As they marched, they only thought of quenching their thirst.

They arrived at a small stream in a valley and shouted for joy. One after another, they filled their canteens and satisfied their thirst. They went into the stream up to their knees and drank great gulps of water as they thrust their heads into the water. They never thought water to be so tasty.

Feeling satisfied, Higa looked around. “There were trees on the ground which had been blasted by shellfire. Among the trees, I saw a bloody decapitated head. I was momentarily stunned but had become numb to bloodshed,” said Higa.

German Tank Attack

The soldiers moved over uneven country roads, through olive groves, beyond stone walls, mud and streams. They continued attack after attack under cover of darkness before finally reaching a suitable place to dig their foxholes. As they were about to take a nap, they heard the squeaking sound of a caterpillar — an enemy tank! They had no anti-tank guns. Rifles and machine guns were of no use. The only effective weapon was a bazooka carried by Masao Awakuni (Co. C).

Higa said:

“The tank inched closer moment by moment. Masao, our only hope, waited daringly behind a stone wall to intercept the enemy tank. The stone wall was of little protection to him. As the enemy tank approached, it made roaring sounds, knocking down trees and going over the stone wall. Masao did not budge as the tank drew closer. At sixty-five yards, and then fifty yards, he was still motionless. Was Awakuni dead? If so, the enemy would find us and make honeycombs of our bodies with their machine guns. Or else, our bodies would be flattened by the caterpillar like dried squid. Forty yards, thirty-five yards. We thought we were finished and that Awakuni surely was dead. When we had given up hope and were about to fire our rifles, useless though it would have been, Awakuni fired his bazooka, hitting the heart of the tank.”

Two enemy soldiers were killed instantly as the tank blasted apart. Masao Awakuni realized that he would have no second chance if he missed the first time so waited for the enemy tank to come extremely close to ensure an absolute hit.

Day after day, enemy soldiers surrendered. Together with another comrade, Higa was ordered to escort the prisoners of war safely to battalion headquarters. Higa ordered the prisoners to sit down for a rest because he himself was quite exhausted. One prisoner took out several rolls that resembled Japanese manju and some ground meat from his lunchbox and started munching on them. Higa was so hungry that his stomach growled. He wanted to say, “Give me some,” but suppressed his desire as he remembered, “The samurai betrays no weakness when starving.” He also had a victor’s pride.

One of the prisoners, Otto Hahn, told Higa that German authorities were suspicious of the 100th Battalion because it consisted only of “Japanese soldiers.” There was even a rumor that the 100th Infantry Battalion was really the Japanese army. When the Germans tapped the radio, many of them understood the English and French but not the Japanese. Secret codes were not necessary for the 100th Infantry Battalion. They used Japanese on the walkie-talkie such as simple passwords of ‘yama’ (mountain) and ‘kawa’ (river).

Higa said that he experienced various hateful, unbearable and fearful incidents during his long stay on the front. They marched endlessly, camped in the mud, had their food rationed, and endured the enemy’s concentrated fire. Most of all, he hated the full-scale, hand-to-hand frontal attacks on the enemy camps. Higa later said, “My legs shook from the cold. Although I prayed hard not to be hit, I also thought that I would rather be killed than kill someone with my bayonet.”

Fighting in the mountains lasted five or six days. The soldiers were thirsty for water. After a day-long battle, the sound of gunfire finally stopped. It seemed as if peace had returned for a while. In the afternoon, they heard there was water on the top of the next mountain. Until the night before, German troops had been entrenched there and they had tenaciously resisted the AJA soldiers’ attack. Taking advantage of this quiet moment, Shintoku Ishimine (Co. A), Richard Kinoshita (Co. E) and Higa went to get some water for their comrades.

When they arrived at the top of the mountain, they were surprised to see many discarded items. Although it was strange that there was water in such a high place, it was even stranger to see such a cleverly constructed well, similar to Japanese drawing wells. It seemed to have been the center of daily life for neighborhood farmers. On a branch of a tree hung the carcass of a skinned cow. Farm tools and cooking utensils were scattered all over. Shintoku Ishimine, a cook who had worked in a first-class restaurant in Honolulu, wanted to cook the cow for his friends and skillfully sliced a big piece of meat off with his bayonet. The soldiers were very happy to unexpectedly acquire some of the things they had run short of, like water and meat.

The enemy was not in sight. Looking at the mountaintops spread under the clear blue sky made Higa feel at peace. The well was filled with clear water, but there was no rope to draw it. They looked around for a substitute. They found a telephone cord, and finally succeeded in drawing up some water by using the telephone cord for rope and a helmet for the bucket. It helped them immensely in recuperating from the fatigue which enveloped their weary bodies. Shintoku Ishimine returned to camp before the rest. He carried the big chunk of meat and his friends’ canteens.

First Battle Wound

On November 6, 1943, two soldiers who had remained behind started back toward their positions after filling the other canteens. On their way, they shared the water with the bearded, thirsty fellows in the foxholes on both sides of the country path.

At about the time that they reached their position, the enemy started bombarding the area where they had scooped the water. Enemy shells came down as if they were trailing the two soldiers. One 8 mm shell struck the branch of a big tree causing fragments to storm down upon them. Two of Higa’s comrades, Sgt. (Richard) Kinoshita (Co. E) and Yasuo Kagawa (Co. E) were killed instantly and another seriously injured.

Higa jumped into his foxhole when he heard the sound of the bomb approaching, but was struck on his back. There was no response to their call for a relief squad. They were unable to see anything because of the bomb smoke and sand dust. Just as the seriously injured Yoshihide Kuwaye (Co. E) was about to die because of blood loss, someone appeared through the smoke and dust, and the courageous Staff Sergeant Yamada took Kuwaye behind a rock.

As for himself, just prior to being sent to the rear, Higa’s close friend told him, “Take time to recover from your wound. Don’t run away from the hospital to rejoin the battle on the front like some others.”

Higa was awarded two Purple Hearts for his injuries in combat. He also was awarded a Silver Star for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action against the enemy while serving with Company E, 100th Infantry Battalion (Separate), attached to the 34th Infantry Division, in November 1943, in Italy.

His Silver Star citation [Headquarters, 34th Inf Div, GO No. 142 (September 29, 1945)] reads in part:

“When the enemy concentrated a heavy barrage upon his platoon area, Private First Class Higa was seriously wounded in the back. Disregarding his wounds, Private First Class Higa carried two men 150 yards to a sheltered ledge. Private First Class Higa then went back through the heavy fire and helped carry a litter case to the aid station. When Private First Class Higa’s wounds were examined, they were determined to be serious enough to warrant immediate evacuation. The courage and devotion to duty displayed by Private First Class Higa while painfully wounded, reflects great credit upon himself and the Armed Forces of the United States.”

While convalescing at the No. 3 General Hospital in the suburbs of Naples, Higa was aware that the soldiers were allowed to leave during the day, if able. They did not use the main gate, but created an exit in the fence by removing one of its boards through which they went out. Guards who stood at several places on the hospital grounds ignored them.

Prostitutes flocked around the unorthodox exit, hoping to entice the soldiers. In their halting English, they auctioned themselves, lowering their prices. “If you don’t have any money, how about three packs of cigarettes? If three packs is too much, two packs will do. Even one pack is okay.” They used all the tricks in the book, even going to the extreme of exposing themselves.

It was not their fault that they had degenerated this far. Even though Naples was far from the battleground, war had driven the Italians to starvation. They were not only unable to secure tomorrow’s bread but even today’s. Their parents or small children must have been waiting for them to bring back food. During the war very few could get jobs. This wretched scene was etched in Higa’s mind throughout the war.

Unable to have his wound treated further, Higa returned to the battlefront at the end of December 1943. After muster, they began their forced march. They were soon placed on a truck and taken down a paved road, then a pebbly road followed by a bumpy one. Another paved road was followed by a mountain path passing through fields and over mountains. Day came to an end and night closed in. They did not know how far they were going. The truck moved on as if it were out of breath. After about a five-hour bumpy ride, they stopped at a place that looked like a field between some mountains. They waited for a while in the dark. Then they were ordered to make camp.

New Year’s Eve (December 1943)

Someone found a cave which was just right for the soldiers. They could hear the occasional boom of cannons, but they seemed to be far from the sound of rifles. Without the crackling of machine guns, Higa felt that they were one step closer to peace. It was pitch dark inside the cave until someone lit a match. The cave was large enough to accommodate 30 people, but not very comfortably. Their squad decided to stay there overnight.

They did not have any candles, but with some ingenuity they made an instant one by peeling off the wrapping paper from their K-rations (food). The wax on the wrappings kept their food dry. The wrappers were collected and placed in a small empty can and lit. They spent the night in the bomb shelter without having to worry about enemy bombings or getting wet – luxuries many had not enjoyed for a long time. No one talked about the battles.

“I almost forgot. Today is oomisoka. It’s oomisoka even if we don’t have otoso (herbal rice wine).”

“What is oomisoka? Is that a kind of candy made from miso?” asked Roy Chankee.

“You’re absurd! Who said it’s something to eat. You don’t know about oomisoka!”

Someone kindly explained to Chankee, “It can’t be helped if you don’t know. Oomisoka means New Year’s Eve in English.”

“Now I understand. I thought you wanted miso to cook helmet chicken tomorrow,” Chankee said. With this comment everybody burst out laughing – something the soldiers had not done in a long time.

Someone else said, “Hey, let’s have some fun tonight.”

“Isn’t there any sake for New Year’s Eve? I wish we had some.”

Then, Chankee said, “Sake? This isn’t Japan, you know. We are all Americans.”

Another soldier responded, “We are Americans, but we are Japanese too. I wish we could have just a little sake.”

As their conversation continued, Hayato Tanaka (Co. C), silhouetted in the dark shadows of the flickering candlelight, said, “Hey, you guys are too slow. Don’t worry. I have some sake right here.” He took a bottle of Italian wine out of his pocket. He had guarded it carefully as they marched along that morning.

The soldiers were all happy, talking about all sorts of things while being oblivious to the time. Though it was already past midnight, no one wanted to go to sleep. The bottle of wine was passed from soldier to soldier. The wine was homemade and had been given to Tanaka by an Italian that morning.

The Nisei soldiers’ thoughts carried them back to past New Year’s Eve celebrations in their hometowns — special New Year’s foods like toshikoshi soba, nishime, ozouni, and sashimi . . . The men just kept on talking.

Sergeant T said, “Thanks to you, I am enjoying sake, but without a chaser something is missing. Why doesn’t someone go out and hook a bonito or something?”

“There are no fish in the mountains,” said Soldier S. “If you go fishing out there, you are going to get hooked instead. The Germans are waiting, holding the line with big bait – a land mine! It’s also too late to go out. This may not be an ordinary chaser, but I have something here. Does anyone have a sashimi knife?”

He took out his rations of crackers for the next day and so did the other soldiers. The food and wine made the dimly lit cave merry and lively. Though the cave was damp, they happily enjoyed New Year’s Eve and many spoke Japanese throughout the night.

Hill 1109 Battle (1944)

Hill 1109 is a well-known place where the advance-guard fighting took place in the famous attack on Cassino. As far as could be seen, there was snow and nothing but snow. Company Commander Mitsuyoshi Fukuda from Company A led their attack on January 9, 1944, in a single-file skirmish formation. They could barely approach the hill as the enemy stubbornly defended their machine gun placement.

Descending a small slope, Higa became the enemy’s target as numerous bullets crisscrossed in front of his path. One bullet went clear through his helmet, entering it from the front and exiting from the back. (Higa credits his short height of 5’2” for saving his life that day.) He frantically hid behind a boulder and stayed there for a while. Their company had advanced too far in front.

Captain Fukuda decided to carry out the mission himself to get his company out of this fix. He had to report the situation and consult with headquarters positioned in the rear first. To do this, he decided to single-handedly break through enemy fire.

To cover Captain Fukuda, Company A concentrated their rifle, light machine gun, and mortar fire on the enemy. Captain Fukuda climbed the slope with all his might in a zigzag pattern. Enemy bullets hit the snow and scattered all around him. He continued to climb, ignoring the fire. Bullets kept following him. Without a pause, he continued to climb.

Higa thought, “How strange it was! The enemy’s bullets hit the snow and provided a smoke screen. I felt as if a scene from a movie were unfolding before my very eyes.”

The soldiers continued firing ceaselessly, their bullets carefully aimed at the enemy machine gun placement. Finally, Captain Fukuda reached the top and disappeared from sight. The snow screen created by the enemy bullets flared once again but they seemed to have lost their power to kill.

Second Battle Wound

On January 10, 1944, still on Hill 1109 in the battlefields to Monte Cassino, Higa was wounded for the second time. More pressing than his leg injury from this second shrapnel wound, was the shell fragment embedded in his back near his spinal cord from the first injury. That shrapnel needed to be removed with major surgery. Thus, Higa was to be sent to the general hospital in Oran, Africa.

Higa stayed in the hospital in Oran for about a month until he recovered enough to be transferred back to the U.S. mainland. There, he was placed in Betty General Hospital in Rome, Georgia, from where he was discharged in June of 1944. He received a 25-day convalescent furlough so decided to visit Denver, Colorado, where there were more Japanese Americans like himself.

On the mainland, The Japanese Americans on the Pacific coast had been confined in incarceration camps. There were some people in the state of California who were anti-Japanese.

The Japanese American Citizens League (JACL) openly confronted anti-Japanese groups. They visited hospitals to see any Japanese American soldier who had been shipped back from the front. As soon as they spotted Japanese American veterans, even on the streets, they would ask for their support. They attempted to widely publicize the courage of the AJAs on the European front in newspapers and magazines. Certainly, the Japanese Americans fought well and sacrificed many lives. But, unless the general public was informed of this fact, they would not be able to overcome the prejudice against them.

Anti-Japanese Movement on the Mainland

One day, Higa was eating in a restaurant on Larimer Street, the Japanese Town in Denver, when a Japanese American gentleman approached him. The man gave him his name card which read, “Joe Masaoka, JACL, Head, Denver Office.”

Masaoka was visiting bars, billiard parlors and restaurants looking for Japanese American soldiers who had been wounded on the war front and thus sent back to the U.S. to recuperate. When he found one, he would comfort and thank the soldier and would then say, “An anti-Japanese movement is developing right now. If we leave it alone, there will be unrectifiable problems for the Japanese in America. Tonight a lecture meeting will be held here to consider the persecution of Japanese Americans.”

Masaoka strongly urged the soldiers he approached to attend the meeting for the sake of Japanese Americans, saying that he was fully aware that they may have had other plans and probably felt exhausted.

Upon hearing his request, about six of the soldiers from the 100th Battalion — including Higa, who had been sent back because of his wounds — decided to attend the meeting.

The wounded soldiers wore their uniforms and entered the hall with the two on crutches in the front. One had a white bandage covering half of his head. Each of them proudly wore more than ten badges on their chests which showed their distinguished service. At Masaoka’s request, they walked single file down the narrow aisle to the front row. The audience applauded until all of them were seated.

The anti-Japanese activists were shocked and dismayed by the soldiers’ arrival. This was a fine victory for the JACL, as the anti-Japanese speakers could not speak their minds and cancelled the meeting, although it had been widely publicized.

Mainland Speaking Tour

In the Japanese quarters of Denver, Jacky Yamashiro, who was about 30 years old then, spoke to Higa. Although he was incarcerated in a camp, he had gone to Denver on furlough to do some errands. Higa was very interested in incarceration camp life.

On June 15, 1944, together with Yamashiro, Higa obtained permission to visit a prison where young men from the incarceration camps who had refused to be drafted into the U.S. Army were held. There were about 20 such draft dodgers imprisoned there. Higa’s purpose was to help comfort and understand them. They told Higa that when the loyalty oath was conducted at the incarceration camp, they were asked if they would pledge their loyalty to the United States. They answered that they had no intention of being enlisted when they were incarcerated as enemy aliens, although they were American citizens.

Higa said to them, “I have just returned from the war front. I am not here to say whether your ideas are right or wrong. I did not come to solicit your enlistment, either. Every human being is entitled to his own pride and self-respect, which is sometimes very difficult to keep. I have no objection that each individual has his own ideas. You must have experienced a lot of hardships. I am sure there will be a day when we can see the sun at dawn.” He shook hands with them and left the prison.

Higa next accompanied Yamashiro to the Amache Relocation (Incarceration) Center where he encountered many adventures. What surprised him the most were the rumors which ran rampant. One such rumor was that the Japanese American soldiers were of the same race as the Japanese who attacked Pearl Harbor, and thus they were being used as bullet shields — sent in first, followed by Black soldiers, and finally by the white soldiers. That was why there were so many casualties among the Japanese American soldiers. Because of the rumors, those whose sons and loved ones were on the war front felt terribly disturbed.

It did not take long for the news to spread that Higa, who had been wounded, had just returned from the Italian front. The Blue Star Mothers Group, a group of mothers whose sons were fighting in Italy and France, requested that he give a talk about the war front. It was decided that a meeting would be held that evening.

Higa gave a series of lectures to the residents of the Amache Incarceration Camp. He did not know how they managed it, considering the needy circumstances in the camp, but mothers whose sons were on the front brought him food that he had not seen for a long time. He later confessed that when he saw the feast, he wept in his heart.

At first, Higa expected that only about five mothers would attend, but about 15 of them showed up. Several ladies could not squeeze into the small room and stood at the door. The faces of his comrades still fighting in Europe, with their fate unknown, flashed through his mind. For about two hours, he talked about the battle front as he had seen it and, during the question-and-answer period which followed, Higa took the opportunity to stress the important relationship between the war front and the home front. The audience seemed pleased. They said that his talk was informative and that it gave them hope. Higa felt as if he were still on the front, dreaming that he had come back to peace at home.

After a similar meeting with another group of mothers from another block the next day, Higa decided that a general public lecture should be held for the entire camp. It took place in a large dining hall equipped with a microphone and turned out to be a grand lecture meeting.

Higa heard later that his public lecture was secretly recorded and reported to the authorities. He always stated clearly, “I did not come here to encourage young men to enlist. But once you are drafted or decide to enlist, I hope that you will do your best.”

The lectures and question and answer sessions were lively and helped eliminate various rumors that were circulating in the camps and elsewhere. Higa gave lectures as often as he could. When his convalescent furlough was over, he was temporarily assigned to Camp White, Oregon. In the meantime, arrangements were made for him to go on a four-month lecture tour under the sponsorship of the War Relocation Authority, the Department of the US Army, and the JACL.

What was the content of Higa’s talk? Here is a quote from Dr. Mitsugu Sakihara’s article which appeared in the March 1981, issue of the Hawaii Pacific Press.

“Pfc. Thomas Higa, veteran of the Italian front, was sent by the War Relocation Authority on an extensive speaking tour covering as many as 75 cities and towns across the United States in 1944. He talked to the Japanese families who were worried about the conditions of the Nisei soldiers in Europe, calmed their unnecessary fears, and disproved the false rumors of the abuses of the Nisei soldiers on the front. But probably no one appreciated his talks more than those who were incarcerated at Manzanar in California. More than 2,800 people listened to him.

“Many stood outside in the cold and listened to him. Many others were turned away. News of his talk spread like a rumor all over camp. It was on practically everyone’s lips. A certain Miss Dougherty said he turned the camp ‘upside down.’ He had done in one night what the Caucasian staff had been trying to do for a long time – make the issei (first generation immigrant parents) understand the Nisei viewpoint in the latter’s volunteering and going into the Army.

“The New York Herald Tribune of May 23, 1944, reported on his arrival in the city with the headline, “US Japanese Tells How Unit fought in Italy,” with the caption reading, “Race Didn’t Count, ‘All Help, Like Brothers, Only More’.” There simply was no room for petty racial and ethnic prejudice. “Soldiers who returned home continued to keep alive the camaraderie born under enemy gunfire in the European and Pacific theaters of war.”

Higa’s lecture tour was first planned for 45-days, but was then extended to six months. On December 12, 1944, it finally came to an end. He had experienced many things during his tour. He visited a total of 40 states and covered about 23,000 miles. Except for Tule Lake, he visited all the incarceration camps and observed the inhabitants’ daily lives. He met many people, both anti-Japanese, pro-Japanese, and those who were neutral.

From these experiences, Higa realized that the most important thing for the Japanese American people to do was to make other Americans understand their position. Willingly serving the country and taking an active role in society was not enough. It was necessary to cultivate friends from different ethnic backgrounds in order to help them understand the nisei’s position.

Some people tend to think that there was something which separated the soldiers who went to the battlefield from the people who stayed at home. For the soldiers on the battlefield, Higa said that those at home were their brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers, regardless of whether or not they were related in blood. Although those who were on the battlefield could not physically embrace the people at home, Higa said their hearts were always with them.

Back in Hawaiʻi – Before the Battle of Okinawa (1945)

Higa returned to Hawaiʻi from his mainland speaking tour, but only for a brief period. Because of his ability to speak Japanese, Okinawan (Uchināguchi, a language distinct from Japanese) and English, Brigadier General Kendall Fielder personally went to his home in Kahaluʻu, Oʻahu, and asked him to go to Okinawa as the land battle neared those islands.

As the Battle of Okinawa began on April 1, 1945, the invading Allied forces were consciously contending with the problem of a civilian Okinawan population of 400,000 caught in the middle of the war, with a limited number of Uchināguchi-speaking MIS or other volunteer linguists available.

On the night of April 21, 1945, Higa departed Hickam Field (later Hickam Air Force Base) in Hawaiʻi for Okinawa by plane. He personally wanted to go to Okinawa as he thought of the predicaments European civilians had faced due to the war. His goal was to rescue as many civilian residents as he possibly could from the war’s devastation.

Prior to his trip to Okinawa, Higa personally financed a visit to each island in Hawaiʻi, and appealed to other Japanese Americans of Okinawan origin for their help and cooperation. He called out, “Save our ancestors’ land and its people,” while setting up a relief campaign to help war-torn Okinawan residents.

His final lecture in Hawaiʻi was held at Harris Memorial Church in Honolulu on April 20, 1945. Higa was moved by the number of women who came out to lend support. Their expressions of care for the Okinawan women were filled with compassion. Sadao Asato, an insurance salesman in Hawai‘i, was the point person to continue gathering relief supplies, with the cooperation of other influential people such as Ryokin Toyohira, Hyoun Tamayose, and others of the Okinawan Association in Hawaiʻi.

Battle of Okinawa

Enroute to Okinawa, the plane made stops in Saipan and Guam, and arrived at Kadena on April 25, 1945. After arriving there, Higa was attached to Tenth Army’s Intelligence section alongside Lieutenant Newby, Colonel Broome, and a civilian information officer from California named Warren.

The four men shared one tent. Higa said there were no rank distinctions in their daily life. They helped each other to fetch water for showers, boil coffee, and the other three allowed Higa to visit civilian villages while they prepared dinner for him, too. Higa later said that the kindness was genuine and the brotherly closeness among the four helped to get the relief effort on track.

On May 2, 1945, Higa was able to meet with Lt. General Buckner, commander of the Tenth Army. Higa asked for the General’s support to extend relief to suffering civilians. Lt. Gen. Buckner concurred, and thus introduced Higa to Monroe Sweetland, Head of American Red Cross in Okinawa.

Cave Rescues

The first task, however, arose whenever and wherever American Forces were ready to blast a cave in which some Japanese civilian stragglers were hiding; Higa’s help was needed. Japanese military propaganda had warned civilians that if captured, they would be tortured, women would be raped, and all would eventually be killed. It was said that it would be more honorable for them to commit suicide rather than be taken as prisoners of war.

Higa volunteered to go into the caves and talk to the people. He did not want to stand outside and call out to the people using a bullhorn. As there were Japanese soldiers hiding amongst the civilians, it was a dangerous mission, yet he believed that he could gain the civilians’ trust. He was a kibei who could speak the Okinawan language and local dialect. He told the American servicemen that the civilians would never kill him. He entered the caves unarmed with the flashlight pointing at his own face so as not to blind the people in the dark caves.

Higa said in Okinawan:

“I am an Okinawan. I’m Higa Taro. I was a student at Kishaba Elementary School in Shimabuku. Please believe me and come out! I believe it is better for all of you – and for Japan’s future – that you come out of this cave with me and go to a safe area. I guarantee that the American soldiers outside will not harm you. Let’s go out together.”

Higa instructed:

“There is no need to worry about food, but there are no clothes or bedding outside. Bring as many garments as you can carry. Anything is fine as long as it isn’t a weapon. If you forget something, you won’t be able to come back for it.”

He noted that the caves were filled with unbearable stench. He asked the soldiers outside to point their guns away to reassure the people leaving the caves that no harm would come their way.

The Japanese soldiers hiding with the civilians did not try to stop Higa in his efforts to save the people. However, when Higa went back for them, they insisted on remaining in the caves and accept their destiny.

Higa addressed Second Lieutenant Suzuki (Japanese soldier) by saying:

“Overcoming the suffering of life will be greater even than death. However, that may be the very force that rebuilds Japan. I understand your feelings. But please also understand mine as a fellow Japanese. That is why I came back for you. For my sake as well, please come with me.”

Lt. Suzuki said to four other soldiers hiding deeper in the cave, “As this man says, let us endure the suffering of living and hold hope for the future.” Higa asked them to leave their weapons behind as he led them out.

When Higa exited the caves, he said to the armed American soldiers, “Japanese soldiers are coming out. They are completely disarmed and have no intention to fight. Do not pull the trigger by mistake.”

Higa stated that he always entered weaponless in order to gain the trust of the people, and not once did he fail.

On one occasion, an elderly Okinawan lady grabbed him in the semi-darkness and said, “Watch out! There are Americans just outside!” His face and dark complexion had misled her.

On another occasion, a middle-aged woman ran up to him and pleaded, “Please don’t allow the soldiers to rape my two daughters!” She did not care about her own well-being as long as her two daughters were protected. The motherly love displayed by this woman touched him and stood out in his mind. Higa noticed that the civilians shared scarce resources and showed mutual compassion.

Reunions and Beginnings of Okinawan War Relief

Higa guided Chaplain Colonel Hyler (a Baptist) and several subordinates to visit several civilian villages, with him as their interpreter. The objective was to promote understanding of people’s living conditions.

When he went to Shimabuku Village, he was reunited with his grade school teacher, Shosei Kina, to whom he had made the promise to become a human being that would be useful to the world. Kina was shocked to see Taro, his former student, standing before him as a grown man. He couldn’t believe his eyes that the young man was there to help him and the village during the devastating destruction taking place in Okinawa. Shimabuku’s people had chosen to shelter in place rather than hide in caves or family grave tombs.

On June 21, 1945, Taro met Toyohira Ryoken (Managing Editor of Okinawa Shimpo and in the early 1980’s, Vice President of Okinawa Times). He was the cousin of the Hawaii Times editor, both of whom were important contacts in helping with the Okinawan Relief Movement. By June 29, Monroe Sweetland had already sent a formal request to the American Red Cross asking for support for Okinawa and the Okinawa War Victim Relief Movement.

A seven-man meeting in Gushikawa was held on July 2. There were four officers of the U.S. military, Sweetland of the Red Cross, Higa, and an interpreter. It was there that Colonel Hyler reported that he had sent a letter to the United Council of Christian Churches in America requesting help with the Relief Movement.

On August 17, 1945, Higa set out for home and departed Nakagusuku Bay for Hawaiʻi. While on the ship, he prepared a manuscript titled, “Returning From War Devastated Okinawa.” It was a detailed newspaper article describing the dire situation in war-torn Okinawa. On September 13, 1945, Thomas Taro Higa set foot back in Hawai‘i.

Back in Hawai‘i – War Relief to Okinawa Gains Momentum

On September 14, both Hawaii Times and Hawaii Hochi published Higa’s article under the headline “I Have Just Returned,” complete with photos. This created a major stir in the Japanese community in Hawai‘i.

It was at this time that Higa realized that not all Okinawans in Hawai‘i were in agreement with the proposed Okinawan Relief Project effort which he and others were attempting to start. In fact, he was threatened by a group called the Hisshoukai (Victory Faction) who believed that Japan had won the war and thus Higa was meddling unnecessarily in trying to help the victors in the war. Some of them threatened him, and Higa felt more danger to his life in Hawai‘i than in the Battle of Okinawa.

Despite these attacks, Higa continued the relief campaign with the support of many volunteers, starting with Sadao Asato, Koki Makishi, Ryokin Toyohira, Zensuke Kinjo, Matsu Yamashiro, Hosuke Nakasone, and many others. He traveled day and night, not only throughout Honolulu but also to the neighboring islands, giving lectures on the need for Okinawa relief. The efficiency of the scheduling and coordination owed much to Sadao Asato.

On September 16, 1945, Thomas Taro Higa was discharged from the military and became a free man. Instead of returning home to Kahaluʻu, he went straight to Asato’s office to discuss future plans. That evening Asato gathered about 20 Okinawan volunteers at his home. Before discussing Okinawan Relief, Higa gave a detailed report of the conditions he had witnessed in Okinawa. The meeting proceeded warmly and earnestly.

Because they needed the cooperation of non-Okinawans as well, on September 17, Higa and several of the men from the previous night’s meeting visited Pastor Ozaki and Pastor Fukao to hear their views. Both were very supportive. On September 19, five of them – Hosuke Nakasone, Matsu Yamashiro, Koki Makishi, Sadao Asato and Higa – visited Dr. Gilbert Bowles with Pastor Shimotori Takeo as their guide. They asked for his cooperation, and he immediately agreed. This was their first step in gaining support from influential white community leaders in Hawaiʻi.

On September 20, Higa flew to Kauaʻi. Using the home of Saburo Chinen (from Tomori, Kochinda Village) in Kekaha Plantation as his base, and with the support of Yoshiro Oyadomari of the Yoen Times and other volunteers, Higa held meetings across the island until the 26th, explaining the devastation in Okinawa and the need for relief. He returned to Honolulu the next day and held lectures and discussion meetings throughout Honolulu and Oahu from September 29 until October 25.

On October 26, Higa traveled to Molokaʻi. Under the leadership of Pastor Shigeru Morikone, they met at the home of Shimabukuro Matsumasa (from Nakagusuku Village) with Jinou Arakaki, the Chinen brothers (Shigeo, Ushio and Takeo), and other volunteers. They discussed Higa’s lecture schedule and the Okinawa Relief Movement. By October 30, they had held five meetings.

Working with Monroe Sweetland of the American Red Cross, who had stopped in Hawaiʻi on his way back to the mainland, the men met again at the Asato Insurance Office. Three of them, Asato, Sweetland and Higa, discussed Okinawa’s situation. On November 3, together with Asato and several Okinawans, they met with several influential white leaders. Sweetland and Higa explained the conditions in Okinawa and the urgent need for relief, noting that Chaplain Colonel Hyler was also cooperating.

On November 4, Higa flew to Maui and attended a 6 p.m. public welcome meeting at the Wailuku Showa Hall. Chaired by Teruya Shunshin, with Shimabukuro Yoshikazu as secretary, many volunteers participated earnestly. At the meeting, the Maui Ryukyuan Music Society performed Toma Shigehide’s “The Suffering of a Captive Body.” Few could hold back tears, especially at the line:

“Ah, the sorrow – lodging beneath a tree, even the autumn leaves have turned red.”

Higa continued lectures and discussions across the island until the 16th and returned to Honolulu on November 17.

After many twists and turns, the volunteers now faced the final and most difficult problem. Even if they collected relief supplies, how could they deliver them to Okinawa’s war victims as quickly as possible? If the volunteers failed, it would hand a perfect weapon to those opposing the movement. With unwavering resolve, they tackled the issue.

Marriage and Continued Okinawan War Relief Efforts

While facing the daunting task of transporting all the collected war relief goods (clothing) to Okinawa, Higa took a short trip to the island of Kauaʻi to fulfill a life-changing decision to ask Toshiko Chinen of Kekaha, Kauaʻi, for her hand in marriage. She agreed, and on November 22, 1945, they began their lifelong journey together, though the honeymoon was put on hold as the Okinawan War Relief effort depended on Higa’s energy to continue the movement.

On November 26, 1945, eight men – Sadao Asato, Dr. Zensuke Kinjo, Dr. Gilbert Bowles, Pastor Edward Whitmore, Lone Bell, Pastor Seiichi Goto, Pastor Hiroshi Ozaki and Higa – met from 9:00 to 9:45 a.m. at the Central YMCA. They concluded that without the U.S. Navy’s assistance, it would be impossible to deliver the supplies. They therefore decided that three of them – Whitmore, Bowles, and Higa – would visit Captain W.F. Zennings at Pearl Harbor.

At Captain Zennings’ office, they introduced themselves. Whitmore described his five years of military service. Captain Zennings then asked Higa about differences between German and Japanese soldiers – their fighting styles, morale, and so on – and the conversation proceeded warmly.

Whitmore explained the unity of Okinawans in Hawai‘i and their desire to help. Higa described how much more miserable the Okinawan war victims were compared to those in Europe. Dr. Bowles cited Sweetland’s November 3rd report from the Red Cross Far Eastern Division, explaining that people of all nations in Hawai‘i wished to join together under the Church Federation to help Okinawa, the final battleground of the war. They asked for the Navy’s support.

Captain Zennings replied, “After hearing your account, we sympathize deeply with the Okinawan people. The authorities pledge full support.” This meant the Navy would assume full responsibility for transporting the relief supplies.

The three men were overjoyed. They left immediately to report the good news to the others who had been anxiously awaiting the outcome. At a lunch hosted by Asato, Dr. Yamashiro Matsu, Pastor Goto, Reverend Houn Tamayose, and Higa shared a meal. Higa reported about the morning’s meeting with Captain Zennings. Their joy needs no further description.

Having secured cooperation from the U.S. Navy, the final and greatest obstacle, the men felt their courage multiply a hundred-fold. From the initial proposal at Koki Makishi’s home on Liliha Street back on April 20, 1945, more than seven months had passed before they finally reached the point of implementation.

Under the name “Sponsored by the Honolulu Church Federation, with Support from the U.S. Navy,” a massive, unprecedented campaign to collect relief supplies for Okinawa’s war victims was launched across all the Hawaiian Islands, with full backing from both the Japanese and English language press. Before the public campaign began, Higa visited both newspapers and requested that his name not be published. He feared that if even a single garment failed to be collected, it might reflect poorly on the movement.

Higa said that in actuality, Colonel Hyler and Sweetland of the Red Cross had pledged, “We will open a route for relief,” on May 30, 1945, while the Battle of Okinawa was still raging. Although wartime conditions made communication extremely difficult, Colonel Hyler continued his efforts on behalf of the Okinawan people even after returning to the mainland United States. Higa wished to express his deep respect for Colonel Hyler.

Colonel Hyler left Okinawa before Higa did, but once back home he personally appealed to the Federal Council of Churches, to the military authorities, and through written communication already sent by Sweetland, to the American Red Cross. As a result, relief supplies for Okinawan war victims were shipped out even before the contributions from compatriots in Hawai‘i.

Colonel Zennings later informed Higa: “Yesterday (November 25, 1945), approximately 80 tons of clothing for Okinawan relief were shipped by the American Red Cross and passed through here. A few days earlier, about one ton had been sent from Hawai‘i. These relief supplies were made possible at the request of a military chaplain who had recently returned from Okinawa.”

Having secured the Navy’s pledge of support, Higa’s spirits soared. On November 27, He immediately flew to Hawai‘i Island. That night, twelve people gathered at the Hilo home of Taro Urasaki (who was from Gushikawa Village) – Dr. Yamairibata, Chogen Tamashiro, Masakiyo Gushiken, Masanori Nagamine, Ushi Higa, Dr. Zenko Matayoshi, Takenobu Higa, Taro Urasaki, Aizo Guya, Jinsei Kaneshiro, and Higa. They discussed the movement with great enthusiasm.

Higa believed that his request that newspapers refrain from publishing his name produced good results. Those who had threatened him, those who opposed the Okinawa Relief Movement, and those who never once appeared at the meetings of concerned Okinawan volunteers, yet spoke ill of them, suddenly changed their tune. As soon as the newspapers reported that the Honolulu Council of Churches had launched the “Okinawan War Victims Relief Movement,” those same people rushed to cooperate under the slogan “Save our war-stricken homeland and our ancestors.”

Given the general atmosphere, they had no choice but to help. Thanks to that, the volunteers were able to gather such a large quantity of relief supplies in a very short period (December 3-17). Higa was satisfied with the outcome.

In a photograph taken on December 15, 1945, in Wailuku, Maui — just 23 days after their marriage — Higa is seated with his wife, Toshiko Chinen Higa, at his right. Toshiko is holding a sign that reads, “Presented to the people of Okinawa; Volunteers living in Hawaiʻi.” The image was captured after volunteers finished packing relief supplies for victims of the Battle of Okinawa at the Wailuku Shōwa Seinen Kaikan (Wailuku Shōwa Youth Association Hall). The crates in the photograph are labeled “Okinawa Clothing Relief Committee, Club 100, 1444 Nuuanu St., Honolulu,” with Club 100 helping with the coordination of the relief effort.

Higa was convinced that this relief campaign, beginning with clothing and later expanding to livestock, seeds, education, welfare, and more, contributed to the reconstruction of war-devastated Okinawa. But behind this movement were the tireless effort of countless individuals, especially Sadao Asato who helped Higa stay positive through the most difficult of times.

“Pigs Crossing the Sea” Okinawan War Relief

Higa played an instrumental role in the execution of the “Pigs Crossing the Sea” initiative (also known as “Pigs from the Sea”), a humanitarian effort born from the ruins of war to restore not only livestock, but the very foundation of life in Okinawa.

According to the biography of Thomas Taro Higa by Tetsuro Shimojima, the seed of what would become the “Pigs Crossing the Sea” effort was planted at Manzanar internment camp in October 1944, during Higa’s lecture tour. There, missionary Azalea Peat — who had lived in Okinawa for thirty years — introduced him to Pastor Herbert Nicholson, who was organizing a project to donate two hundred milk goats to Japanese children. Higa and Peat persuaded Nicholson to redirect the goats to Okinawa, where they were needed most.

When Higa arrived in Okinawa in April 1945 and inspected the traditional Okinawan pigsties — called Fuuru — he found them completely empty. Okinawa had been a pig-farming culture for over a thousand years; pigs were central to food production, fertilizer, and the island’s sustainable agriculture. The ground war had driven them to near-extinction.

Higa urgently reported this to Sadao Asato in Honolulu: “Not a single pig in Fuuru!”

Back in Hawaiʻi, the effort to “send pigs to Okinawa” was organized by Kamesuke Kakazu, a pig-farming researcher at the University of Hawaiʻi, with fundraising coordinated by Sadao Asato. Because 550 pigs — 500 sows and 50 breeding males — could not be sourced in Hawaiʻi, they were purchased from a breeder in Nebraska and shipped from Portland, Oregon aboard the SS Owen, which departed on August 31, 1948.

After severe storms and encounters with mines, the ship arrived at Okinawa’s White Beach on September 27, 1948. Seventeen pigs were lost enroute, though 60 to 70 piglets were born during the crossing.

The pigs sent were Yorkshire and other white breeds — and so Okinawa’s pig population, which had been predominantly black for centuries, shifted to predominantly white. “Okinawan pigs are supposed to be black,” one returning veteran later remarked. “But when I came back, all of them were white, and I felt a chill down my spine.”

Battle for Naturalization Rights for the Issei

The narrative next shifts to the postwar Japanese American Struggle for Naturalization Rights. From 1946 – 1953, there was a political fight for Japanese immigrant naturalization. Historically, Japanese immigrants were excluded from naturalization despite ambiguous legal language. By 1946, Chinese, Filipino, and Indian immigrants had gained naturalization rights – leaving Japanese as the only Asian group still barred.

The JACL launched a national campaign to secure naturalization rights for issei. It sought to obtain compensation for forced wartime removal and property losses. Although a lobbying office was established in Washington, D.C., fundraising was extremely difficult because most Japanese Americans were impoverished after incarceration. In 1947, a five-person delegation traveled to Hawaiʻi seeking financial support.

The five representatives were Keizaburo Kokufuda, Kihei Ikeda, Susumu Higashizaki, Saburo Kido and Yuzuru Masaoka. The JACL men began operations from their lodging, the Leilani Hotel on Nuuanu Street (run by the Hamada family, who generously provided accommodations). They were joined by Kenzo Ogasawara, former editor-in-chief of the Colorado Times (a Japanese-language daily paper), who happened to be visiting Hawaiʻi.

The group visited influential Japanese residents of Honolulu, one by one, to seek support. Although Honolulu had many prominent leaders, the war had ended only recently, and because this was a movement directed at the US government, many people – following the “don’t touch the gods” principle – said that they would help but asked that their names not be made public.

Unable to find anyone willing to stand at the forefront, the Hawai‘i side asked Higa to take the lead. Because Higa had traveled across the mainland in 1944 to the various incarceration camps with the goal of giving frontline reports and morale-building lectures under JACL sponsorship, the five JACL representatives guided by a Mr. Yasuda, a Honolulu businessman, went all the way to Higa’s home in rural Kahaluʻu, Windward Oʻahu, where telephones were still uncommon.

At that time, Higa was farming, but, recognizing the gravity of the situation, he decided to entrust the farm to others and devote himself fully to the movement. Thus, Higa became a key organizer in Hawai‘i, hosting the delegation and helping lead public appeals.

On February 26, 1947, at the Harris Memorial Church on Vineyard Street, Ogasawara and Higa ignited the movement with their first public speeches. They then held critical-issues lectures at various locations. The content followed the manifesto titled “A Dare to Appeal to Our Fellow Japanese in Hawaii,” which they explained the subject in detail, followed by lively Q&A sessions. With support from the press, the movement gradually gained momentum.

One influential issei said:

“As I listened to the representatives, I realized the immense significance of this movement. Land law issues – our mainland compatriots have been reduced to near war-refugee conditions. Hawai‘i Japanese should shed a tear and extend a helping hand. Naturalization rights – this is not about whether one chooses to become a citizen. Once Japanese are eligible, all anti-Japanese problems will be resolved at the root. Without nationwide support, the bill will never pass. Evacuation (incarceration) compensation – the Interior Department is sincerely trying to compensate evacuees. It directly concerns Hawai‘i evacuees as well. Mainland Japanese are united and calling upon Hawai‘i. We must support them as much as possible.”

On the 26th, there was a Critical Issues Lecture held at 6:30 p.m., at Harris Memorial Church. Admission was free, with all welcome. Two speakers were scheduled as follows:

“Five Years of Army Life – A Retrospective” by Taro Higa (Private First Class)

“An Appeal to Our Fellow Japanese in Hawaii” by Kenzo Ogasawara

Of course, written like this, it may sound as if everything went smoothly from the start. In reality, as with any movement, they faced opposition for opposition’s sake, and it was a tremendous struggle to get things on track.

Nevertheless, thanks to these efforts, between April 1947 and 1953, a total of $643,147 was raised nationwide (including $88,196 from Hawai‘i). The movement succeeded, and on June 27, 1952, the long-cherished dream of more than half a century – the Immigration and Naturalization Act – was finally achieved.

Taro Higa’s Statement – July 1965:

The U.S. Constitution had long opened naturalization to Western races, yet stubbornly kept the door closed to Asians. Japanese and other Asian minorities, no matter how many decades they lived in America, were branded permanently “ineligible for citizenship.” Not only that – California, the so-called Golden State, prohibited such people (meaning primarily Japanese) from owning farmland or even homes.

When the Pacific War broke out, Japanese – including Japanese Americans – living along the West Coast were treated as enemy aliens, forcibly removed, and in a single night lost the land they had built with more than half a century of blood and sweat.

The war ended; the fighting with guns was over. But for Japanese in America, the struggle to survive had only begun. First, we had to launch a nationwide campaign for evacuation compensation. At the same time, we faced the monumental task of removing the “ineligible for citizenship” stigma from the U.S. Constitution.

To move the Constitution required enormous funds and the united cooperation of all Japanese Americans. When prominent leaders would not step forward, Kenzo Ogasawara and I needed to provide the first spark of the great movement in Hawaii.

Thinking back to those days, I am overcome with emotion.

Higa honored the memory of many leaders who did not live to see the victory. Naturalization rights were essential to dismantling anti-Japanese laws. Compensation for forced removal was necessary for economic recovery. Higa urged Hawai‘i’s Japanese community, who were not mass-incarcerated, to support their mainland counterparts financially and morally.

Finally, Higa said that he sincerely hopes that everyone will attempt, to the best of their abilities, not allow his fellow soldiers’ deaths to be in vain. He hopes everyone will be strong for the future. What is our future? It is the result of the foundation stone which we build today.

Thomas Taro Higa Family

Thomas and Toshiko Higa had five children – Alvin Higa, Samuel Higa, Dr. Nolan Higa, Pauline Higa Iwamoto, and Elsie Higa Yoshimura.

The Higa Family ran a family business called “Boat Rental Ala Wai” from 1957 to 1970. Higa and his wife Toshiko operated a boat rental business on the Ala Wai Canal, a place where their children worked side by side on weekends and summers, strengthening family bonds and creating memories that would carry across generations. Friends from the past made during the war years, as well as newly found friends of Japanese researchers studying at the East West Center used the Boat House as a gathering place.

Higa peacefully left this earth on February 11, 1985.

Other Projects/Awards by Thomas Taro Higa:

• 1968: Produced documentary film “Hawai ni Ikiru” (“Life in Hawaii”). Depicts the life of the issei (first generation immigrants) and their livelihoods in Hawaiʻi.
• 1974: Published “Imin wa Ikiru” (“Immigrants Live On”). Book about Okinawan immigrants that settled in other parts of the world, namely South America.
• 1982: Published his autobiography “Aru Nisei no Wadachi” (“Memoirs of a Certain Nisei”)
• 1983: Recipient of Okinawa Times Award
• 1984: Received Certificate of Appreciation from the Japanese American Citizens League at their national convention in Honolulu, Hawaiʻi

View Thomas Tora Higa’s Biography and Photo Collection