Affectionately known as ‘Chibi’ (which means ‘little one’ in Japanese), Midori Yamazaki was nine years old when the war began; her memory of what it was like to grow up in Japan during the Second World War is contained in my book ‘Remarkable Women of the Second World War’, published by the History Press in 2022.
Midori was fairly sheltered from the worst of the war during the first few years, as she lived with her family in a small, rural village called Nanbu-cho in the northern part of Japan; her father was a carpenter and was not conscripted because he was too old, and not in good health. However, it was not an easy time of course and most particularly because her parents worried terribly for loved ones living in more precarious Japanese cities, including Yokohama where her brother worked as an electrician in a factory. Factories such the one he worked in were targeted specifically, especially towards the end of the war in Japan; and on 29th May 1945 he had a narrow escape after his factory was hit – over 8,000 were killed in the raid that day.
Midori’s story tells of her contribution to the war effort, which began at the beginning of 1944, after her 14th birthday. She, with a friend from her village, were requested to work in a parachute factory, located in Okazaki, some 170 km from Nanbu-cho. She describes their home-sickness, exhaustion and poor living quarters; and their upset at not being allowed home after their arrival – but bravely ‘escaping’, getting home – then returning. Midori worked at the factory until June 1945, finally being allowed home after her mother sent a telegram to her employer, declaring that her father was dangerously ill. In fact he was not, it was a ‘ruse’ to bring her home – perhaps a falsehood thousands of mothers deployed in order to see their children?
Midori’s story recalls the horror of living in Japan as the end of war approached, describing the intensity of attacks, some of the most devastating being over the city of Nagoya – which was a prime target as it was the centre of the Japanese aircraft industry. Nagoya was around 30 km from Okazaki, so she was able to see and hear the terrifying raids. She described having to hide in shelters that would ‘shake as if there was an earthquake’ and because the Americans used incendiary bombs, whilst the city burnt, the sky was continually ‘bright with fire.’
Midori reflected, too, on the extreme poverty, and resultant hunger, that followed the end of the war in Japan; about ‘black markets’ and the dire needs of millions of people, especially in the cities.
This is a poignant, important memory – that acknowledges defeat fairly and squarely. In the years that followed the war, Midori and her husband owned a ran a flowershop; ‘bringing much needed joy and colour into their own, and other, people’s lives.’
