The Prize-- and Price-- of Battle
I was very touched to find this personal essay, written by a member of Eugene Zendo-- Butsugen-ji, Buddha Eye Temple--located in Eugene, Oregon. Abbot Ejo Patrick McMullen, who studied and lived in Japan, has provided great insight and assistance throughout the Jizos For Peace Project.
About the photos at the end of the piece: I found them online, and today of all days, they tear at my heart in several ways. On Hiroshima Day, 2005, it seems fitting to recall events that preceeded the dropping of the atomic bomb, including the ferocious battles of World War II, and their great human cost.
This peace speaks for itself, but I want to reflect its message: that warfare destroys human lives and leaves scars that endure across generations; and that we can engage in concrete action to foster reconciliation and healing.
The Jizos for Peace Pilgrims are carrying this intention for all of us, along with banners, flags, and many gifts made by individuals and groups all over the world. Some of these offerings, as you will read, are particularly poignant.
With a deep bow,
Shugetsu
The Bundle
I don't remember when I first saw the bundle of objects my step-father took from dead Japanese soldiers he killed in the battle of Attu Island. I do remember his long recovery from multiple shrapnel wounds, his recurring nightmares , hisanger and his hardness. Sometime in my growing up, he talked about his experiences, not only of the battle itself, but the American military mistakes that caused many deaths in his unit and the ghastly conditions on the hospital ship where the wounded continued to die before reaching San Francisco.
He began to soften as he became increasingly involved with my children. He once told me that being a grandfather was the most gratifying experience of his life. As the Vietnam War continued he came to oppose violence and was determined that none of his grandsons would ever go to war.
Towards the end of his life he became preoccupied with his war experiences. We had long talks which resulted in him crying about his responsibility for the Japanese soldiers he had killed. As he got closer to his own death his grief seemed to intensify. We attempted to convince him that as a young man, in that time and place, he had little choice.
Sorting his room after his death I was relieved to not find the bundle, however, my son found it in the garage rafters. We were in a quandary as to what to do with these objects. I always felt such sorrow looking at them: a large Japanese flag, a small personal flag with blood stains. a picture of a tiger printed on silk. Photographs: a wife , a family, a man in uniform; leather cases with writing in them, white dress gloves and a small folded brocaded card with an inscription inside.
During Ango, while working on the Jizos for peace project, it occurred to me to ask Ejo if he could return these things to Japan in a way that was appropriate. I talked to him and he agreed. My son, Robert, brought the bundle when he came for Jukai. We as a family, looked at everything one last time and read the story of the battle from his home town newspaper. Recently I met with Ejo and talked to him about the life of Robert McAmis. After examining everything in the bundle, Ejo translated the inscription in the brocaded card: "Namu Amida Butsu."
Gassho,
Jun-e
WORLD WAR II IMPERIAL JAPANESE ARMY INDIVIDUAL SOLDIER'S BATTLE FLAG: the type of flag as presented by loved ones and friends to the soldier departing for the battle theater.
US Marines display captured Japanese battle flags on Iwo Jima 1945.
About the photos at the end of the piece: I found them online, and today of all days, they tear at my heart in several ways. On Hiroshima Day, 2005, it seems fitting to recall events that preceeded the dropping of the atomic bomb, including the ferocious battles of World War II, and their great human cost.
This peace speaks for itself, but I want to reflect its message: that warfare destroys human lives and leaves scars that endure across generations; and that we can engage in concrete action to foster reconciliation and healing.
The Jizos for Peace Pilgrims are carrying this intention for all of us, along with banners, flags, and many gifts made by individuals and groups all over the world. Some of these offerings, as you will read, are particularly poignant.
With a deep bow,
Shugetsu
The Bundle
I don't remember when I first saw the bundle of objects my step-father took from dead Japanese soldiers he killed in the battle of Attu Island. I do remember his long recovery from multiple shrapnel wounds, his recurring nightmares , hisanger and his hardness. Sometime in my growing up, he talked about his experiences, not only of the battle itself, but the American military mistakes that caused many deaths in his unit and the ghastly conditions on the hospital ship where the wounded continued to die before reaching San Francisco.
He began to soften as he became increasingly involved with my children. He once told me that being a grandfather was the most gratifying experience of his life. As the Vietnam War continued he came to oppose violence and was determined that none of his grandsons would ever go to war.
Towards the end of his life he became preoccupied with his war experiences. We had long talks which resulted in him crying about his responsibility for the Japanese soldiers he had killed. As he got closer to his own death his grief seemed to intensify. We attempted to convince him that as a young man, in that time and place, he had little choice.
Sorting his room after his death I was relieved to not find the bundle, however, my son found it in the garage rafters. We were in a quandary as to what to do with these objects. I always felt such sorrow looking at them: a large Japanese flag, a small personal flag with blood stains. a picture of a tiger printed on silk. Photographs: a wife , a family, a man in uniform; leather cases with writing in them, white dress gloves and a small folded brocaded card with an inscription inside.
During Ango, while working on the Jizos for peace project, it occurred to me to ask Ejo if he could return these things to Japan in a way that was appropriate. I talked to him and he agreed. My son, Robert, brought the bundle when he came for Jukai. We as a family, looked at everything one last time and read the story of the battle from his home town newspaper. Recently I met with Ejo and talked to him about the life of Robert McAmis. After examining everything in the bundle, Ejo translated the inscription in the brocaded card: "Namu Amida Butsu."
Gassho,
Jun-e
WORLD WAR II IMPERIAL JAPANESE ARMY INDIVIDUAL SOLDIER'S BATTLE FLAG: the type of flag as presented by loved ones and friends to the soldier departing for the battle theater.
US Marines display captured Japanese battle flags on Iwo Jima 1945.
posted at 8:40 AM
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