The Purple Heart (43 page)

The gray sleeve suddenly appeared
from behind and wrapped itself around Hiroshi’s neck. It took Hiroshi by
surprise and his rifle was knocked out of his hands. Hiroshi reacted quickly
and grounded his footing to prevent himself from being pulled downward. He
heard the unsheathing of a knife and quickly elbowed the assailant. Hiroshi
gripped the upper sleeve of the arm around his neck and threw his assailant to
the ground. The Nazi soldier landed on his back with a thud onto shards of wood
and plaster, but he got up and spun around to meet Hiroshi. Hiroshi’s rifle was
in between them.

There was a wild look in
the Nazi soldier’s face as his blue eyes glared back at Hiroshi. His light
brown hair was tousled as patches of white ash hung from his hair. He took a
step forward in an offensive posture as he waved his knife menacingly in front
of him. Hiroshi was not amused and swiftly kicked the knife out of the
soldier’s hand. The Nazi soldier looked dumbfounded, but he lunged at Hiroshi.
As he did, Hiroshi stepped aside just in time for the Nazi soldier to trip
clumsily over Hiroshi’s right leg and land flat onto his stomach.

The Nazi soldier scrambled
upward and lunged up with his hands toward Hiroshi, who had a calm look on his
face. He threw a right punch, which Hiroshi stepped outside of. Then he
suddenly felt Hiroshi’s forearm landing a blow to his neck. The Nazi soldier
fell on his back but got up once more and faced Hiroshi as he coughed
violently. His head was suddenly whipped backward by a kick that appeared out
of nowhere. The next thing the Nazi saw when he raised his head was the butt of
the rifle.

Hiroshi was standing over
the unconscious Nazi soldier, who lay on his back, just as one of his soldiers
rushed back into the room. He looked down at the fallen soldier and looked at
Hiroshi to make sure he was okay.

Hiroshi quickly turned to
make sure that the other two Nazis were not also playing dead and saw that they
had not moved. He turned his attention back to the soldier.

“Hashimoto found one
soldier hiding in the bathtub,” the soldier said excitedly. “He thought he had
the drop on Hashimoto–he got up and tried to shoot him but missed. Hashimoto
shot him, but we think he’s still alive.”

“Good work,” said Hiroshi
in an affirming tone. “Secure this Nazi and then make sure this floor is clear.
Then meet me downstairs.”

“Yes, Sir,” replied the
soldier.

Hiroshi quickly went to the
window to assess how the other half of his squad was doing. He saw Akira and
two other men heading into the third building, leaving Peter and one other
soldier guarding the door. That left one of his soldiers unaccounted for and
Hiroshi could only assume the worst. Smoke and dust were floating out of the
windows, the likely result of a grenade blast. There were no sounds of shots
being fired, so perhaps it was another abandoned building. Hiroshi turned away
and made his way downstairs and out of the building, followed by one of his
soldiers. He momentarily shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun and saw
Akira waving from across the street. The building was empty.

The two remaining soldiers
filed out of the building and stood behind Hiroshi. Hiroshi led his team to the
last building, which was at the corner of the intersection. He could distinctly
see the tank’s barrel barely jutting out. His forehead tensed up as his men
approached the intersection. He turned back and directed the two injured men
trailing behind them to direct their rifles at the building diagonally across
from their position. The men nodded and ignored their pain as they covered the
building.

Crouching low and hugging
the wall, he slowly moved toward it as a soldier followed him. One of the two
injured soldiers had trained his rifle at the building across from them as
Akira’s team prepared to storm it while the other soldier had his bazooka ready
in case Hiroshi needed him to use it. It was their last one. The men across the
street still had two more.

Hiroshi saw that part of
the corner building had already been bombed out. This meant that there were
probably no Nazi soldiers lurking within, but they would have to make sure. He
continued moving toward the corner, as the tank’s gun barrel steadily loomed
closer. The corner was finally within reach. He readied his rifle, and peered
cautiously around the corner.

The tank was only about
five feet away. Its dark-gray barrel pointed straight into the air. The tank’s
treads looked ready to roll on–but they wouldn’t get the chance. The entire
back half of the tank was covered in rubble from the bombed-out building, whose
damage was more evident around the corner. The tank turret was partially
crushed, and the machine gun that was affixed to it was mangled. The tank was a
casualty of the earlier aerial bombardment, and Hiroshi let out a sigh of
relief. He quickly looked at the other end of the street and saw no obvious
signs of Nazi positions. In a crouched position, he made his way back to his
men by the last door.

Though Hiroshi was pretty
confident that there were no Nazi soldiers holed up in the last building, diligence
was the wiser choice that day. They repeated the same steps as a grenade was
tossed into the building. After the explosion, three soldiers entered the
building. A soldier exited and confirmed Hiroshi’s suspicions that there were
no Nazi soldiers inside. Half of the entire second floor had collapsed and the
far wall had crumbled on top of the tank.

Feeling satisfied, Hiroshi
ordered his men to secure the corner building. He looked across the street and
saw Peter and one other soldier already entering the last building on the
corner. It had suffered some partial damage, most likely from the aerial
bombardment but for the most part it was still intact. Akira and two other men
appeared out of the previous building and Hiroshi realized that the last
building was being secured with only Peter and one other soldier.

Peter had entered the dimly
lit building, which was ghostly quiet. The second soldier had followed him as
he swung his rifle from side to side, looking for any hidden Nazi soldiers. There
didn’t appear to be any. Papers lay strewn over the floor, most likely
scattered by the explosion of the grenade. A partially blown wooden table stood
in the middle of the papers along with upturned wooden boxes. The room looked
like it had been used recently but there was no one around.

Peter carefully entered the
kitchen, saw no one, and headed back to the living room. The other soldier
covered him and acknowledged Peter’s signal that he was going to head upstairs.

Peter moved furtively up
the steps, keeping an eye on the landing above. Ample light had poured into the
rooms from above, and Peter could see that the roof had partially collapsed.
There were two rooms on the second floor. His breathing was slow as he reached
the landing with the second soldier following closely behind him. Peter entered
the front room and found it to be empty. The wall between it and the adjacent
room had partially collapsed, and through it, he could see that the adjacent
room seemed to be a bathroom. He backed out of the room cautiously and then
signaled to the soldier that he was going to enter the second room, whose door
was partially closed. The soldier acknowledged and covered him from the stairs.

Peter took up his position
at the door with his back to the wall. He held his rifle vertically in front of
him and kept thinking to himself that if they cleared the building, the first
mission objective would be completed. He stepped forward, spun around and
kicked in the door and lowered his rifle. It was a sparse room and to the left
was an open door that led to the bathroom that he saw earlier. There was a dark
wooden desk and a chair in the room. But Peter’s eyes settled onto the Nazi
military cap lying at the corner of the desk and then the heel of a boot
sticking partially out from behind the desk. Peter gripped his rifle tighter.

“Get out of there now!”
shouted Peter in a firm tone. There was no movement from behind the desk. Peter
boldly took a couple of steps into the room and placed his finger firmly on the
rifle’s trigger. “Get the fuck out of there now! Or I’ll empty my entire rifle
at you!” shouted Peter once more.

A pair of hands suddenly
emerged from view and slowly, a man in a Nazi officer’s gray uniform rose from
behind the desk. He was an older man with grayish hair that was parted
meticulously on the side. His blue eyes stared defiantly. He finally rose to
full height with his hands raised above him. He still had his gun holstered to
his right side.

An officer, thought Peter,
he had caught himself an officer. It would be good news for his squad. Peter
was feeling emboldened as he took a couple of steps forward when he heard the
rustling of clothing to his left. Peter turned his head just as the officer in
front of him smiled. A Nazi soldier was rising from the bathtub and had his
rifle pointed directly at Peter’s head. Peter froze as he realized his mistake.
“Oh no,” he thought.

A single shot ran out.
Peter’s heart jumped as he continued staring at the soldier whose eyes suddenly
bulged. If that moment was what it was like to take a bullet before collapsing,
it was an odd sensation to witness. But Peter didn’t have to wait long for the
bullet to finally do its deed. Peter let out a breath; the Nazi soldier
collapsed and slumped over the bathtub with his rifle tumbling to the floor.

Peter then saw Hiroshi’s
face through the hole in the wall with the rifle aimed at his direction. The
Nazi officer suddenly made for his holstered gun but Peter recovered and
steadied the rifle at him. The Nazi officer had only lifted the flap and
stopped when he knew his attempt would be futile.

“Make my day, asshole,”
Peter said.

“Your grandfather saved my
life that day,” said Peter as he stared at the last remnants of green tea at
the bottom of his cup.

Aiko was silent as she took
in the amazing story of her grandfather. No one in her family knew this and
they needed to know. Her grandfather’s life wasn’t meant to be hidden away in
some shadow of dishonor.

She looked at Joey’s folded
drawing on the corner of the tray table and placed her hand on it. She slowly
slid it to the opposite corner closest to Mr. Tanaka and held it there. Mr.
Tanaka noticed Aiko’s movement and reflected on that one poignant scene that
depicted him kneeling over his fallen friend.

“That’s the last time I saw
your grandfather. It’s only fitting that his granddaughter should hear of his
last moments. I think he would have wanted that,” said Mr. Tanaka as Aiko
looked up at him with curious and melancholy eyes. Her eyes did remind him of
his wartime friend: She had his strength.

Mr. Tanaka took a breath
and was searching for the words to begin the story of the last time he saw
Aiko’s grandfather when a voice from the airplane’s speakers interrupted them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our
pilot has turned on the fasten your seatbelt sign as we make our final descent
into Los Angeles International Airport. Please take a moment to collect any
service items, as the flight attendants will be coming around to collect them.
Please return your tray to its upright position and adjust your seat to its
normal position. We should be touching down in about ten minutes. Thank you for
your cooperation.”

“I guess we will have to
continue this story after we land,” said Mr. Tanaka.

Aiko let out a sigh as she
picked up Joey’s folded drawing. “I guess so,” she said with a hint of
disappointment in her voice.

“My wife will be at the
gate. She hates to fly, so she only gets to see Joey when our son and his
family fly out to visit us.”

“He should visit more often
then,” said Aiko with a smile.

“And how often do you visit
your parents?” asked Mr. Tanaka with a grin as he passed his empty cup to the
flight attendant.

“Probably not often
enough,” said Aiko sheepishly. Her smile masked a feeling of guilt.

Mr. Tanaka smiled back. He
knew that he probably made Aiko feel a little guilty. “It’s okay, Aiko, you
young ones have such fast-paced lives nowadays.”

It was getting hard for
Aiko to hear Mr. Tanaka clearly as she started to feel the cabin pressure
building up in her ears. She wanted to be polite, but didn’t want to pretend that
she was hearing him. It was one of the things she hated about flying, and she
didn’t understand why some people were more susceptible to it than others. It
made her feel self-conscious when something beyond her control affected one of
her senses. She pretended she needed to take something out from her purse and
decided to fidget with her phone instead.

Mr. Tanaka leaned back into
his seat and turned his head to look out the window as the scene of houses
darted past. Aiko watched Mr. Tanaka out of the corner of her eye and found it
amazing that the elderly man next to her had endured so much during the war.
She wondered how after such a horrific experience, anyone could come home
intact. Or maybe they didn’t, but they had just wanted to come home so desperately
that they repressed their traumatic experiences. She had seen many movies
depicting the soldiers of World War II but sitting beside her was a lost
chapter in American history.

The plane eased onto the
runway as its wheels screeched along the tarmac. The plane then leveled out as
the front wheel touched down and the sound of the reverse thrusters could be
heard bringing the plane to a controlled roll as it began to taxi to its
designated gate.

“Ladies and gentleman,
welcome to Los Angeles International Airport. We ask that you remain seated
until the plane has come to a full stop. You may now turn on any personal
electronic devices such as cell phones. Please be careful when opening the
overhead compartments as contents may have shifted during flight. The local
time is 1:30 P.M. Pacific Time. Again, we hope that you had a pleasant flight
and will fly with us once again. On behalf of the flight crew, thank you for
flying United Airlines.”

Aiko suddenly felt a yawn
come over her and placed her hand over her mouth. As she did, what sounded like
huge boulders being rolled aside echoed throughout her ear canal, and her
hearing finally returned to normal.

“You look tired,” said Mr.
Tanaka.

Aiko nodded as she finished
her yawn and smiled back at Mr. Tanaka. She was just glad that she heard him
clearly.

Aiko walked alongside Mr.
Tanaka as they exited the plane and entered the terminal area where Mr. Tanaka
slowly scanned the crowd.

A faint voice came from the
right. A nimble elderly Japanese American woman moved forward to greet Mr.
Tanaka. It was undoubtedly his wife. She was shorter than Mr. Tanaka and a bit
on the thin side. Her straight shoulder-length hair was a salt-and-pepper
color. There were several deep wrinkles on her face that marked the passage of
time, but she still had a cheery smile.

Mr. Tanaka’s eyes lit up at
the sight of her, and he walked over to her. They gently hugged as she
bombarded him with questions about his trip. Aiko smiled as she watched the
elderly couple–they were still obviously in love. Suddenly, Mrs. Tanaka’s eyes
spotted Aiko, who had been standing by watching them. Mr. Tanaka realized he
had forgotten about Aiko for a moment. He turned around, gingerly felt for his
wife’s hand, and approached Aiko.

“Aiko, I like for you to
meet my wife, Noriko,” said Mr. Tanaka.

“Hello Mrs. Tanaka, it’s
very nice to meet you,” said Aiko politely as she bowed respectfully.

Mrs. Tanaka looked at Aiko.
She had never met her and didn’t understand how she had come to know her
husband. She instinctively gripped Mr. Tanaka’s hand a little firmer.

“Aiko is Joey’s teacher,”
said Mr. Tanaka reassuringly.

Mrs. Tanaka looked up at
her husband curiously and then back at Aiko. “Is Joey in trouble?” she asked.

Aiko smiled and let out a
reassuring laugh while shaking her head. She was amused by the question, but
she could understand her confusion. It wasn’t every day that grandparents would
get a visit from their grandchild’s elementary school teacher.

“Aiko…” said Mr. Tanaka as
he looked down into his wife’s eyes. “Aiko is Hiroshi’s granddaughter.”

Mrs. Tanaka’s face froze in
disbelief. She looked back at Aiko and then back at her husband and could only
say incredulously, “No!”

“Yes, I couldn’t believe it
myself, but this is Hiroshi’s granddaughter.”

Mrs. Tanaka looked back at
Aiko. “You must be so proud of your grandfather,” she said.

It was an odd question.
Before the last few days, she never knew how she felt about her grandfather.
But with the riveting stories of her grandfather she had to say with utmost
confidence and pride that she was proud of him and to be his granddaughter.

“Yes, yes I am,” Aiko said
firmly.

“Aiko, why don’t you come
back to our house and I can finish my story of your grandfather?” said Mr.
Tanaka.

“I hope I won’t be
intruding…” but before Aiko could politely offer a customary decline, Mrs.
Tanaka quickly stepped over to Aiko, grasped her arm and said, “Nonsense,
you’re more than welcome. Hiroshi’s granddaughter, I could only have imagined.
I won’t take no for an answer.”

Aiko was pleasantly
surprised and she smiled back at Mrs. Tanaka. “I would be honored,” she
answered softly.

Mr. Tanaka smiled and moved
towards the baggage claim as Mrs. Tanaka tugged at Aiko’s arm firmly. She
started to tell Aiko about the dinner she had prepared, and that she shouldn’t
worry as she could make enough for three people.

Down at the baggage claim,
Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka watched for his suitcase with Aiko a few steps behind them.
The last few hours had been an amazing revelation in her own family’s history that
she didn’t even know existed. She thought about how her morning had seemingly
started out like any other morning until Joey told her that his grandfather was
leaving to go back to Los Angeles, which started her on her rash decisions that
finally lead her to board the same plane. She thought about what she would tell
her parents and how she would explain to them that she was all of sudden in Los
Angeles. Suddenly, Aiko heard her phone ring and she reached into her purse.

She pulled out the phone
and a smile crept over her face, it was Cat.

“Hi Cat!” exclaimed an
excited Aiko.

“Hey hon, so did you find
him?” asked Cat.

“I did! You won’t believe
what I had to do to find him though.”

“That’s great! Well just to
let you know, I took care of your little monsters and for the most part they
behaved themselves. I don’t know what torture room techniques you employ but
you gotta share some of them with me.”

Aiko laughed, “Oh you know
me, Cat, I just kill them with kindness.”

“Well hon, why don’t you
come pick me up. I’m still here at the school grading papers and we can go out
to dinner.”

A sudden realization came
over Aiko. In her rash decision to get on the plane, she had totally forgotten
her responsibilities back home. Aiko cleared her throat and then said to Cat
nervously, “Uh, I can’t do that Cat. I’m not in D.C. anymore.”

“You’re not in D.C? If
you’re not here, then where are you?” asked Cat curiously.

“I’m in Los Angeles,” said
Aiko.

There was a pause on the
other end of the line when Cat exclaimed, “
Why
are you in Los Angeles?”

Mr. Tanaka had just pulled
his suitcase off the baggage carousel and began inspecting it with his wife.
“Cat, it’s a
long
story but I’ll explain as soon as I get back but I
need you to cover for me by watching my kids tomorrow. Would that be okay?”

“Uh, sure. But Aiko…” there
was a pause from Cat and then she blurted out, “Where’s my car?”

* * *

The Tanakas owned an old
charcoal-colored Honda Accord from the 1980s. Sitting on the musty, light
grayish upholstery, Aiko felt that she had entered another time in American
history. There were thick black plastic floor mats and underneath them were brown
paper shopping bags, which were undoubtedly floor mats for the black plastic
floor mats. Mr. Tanaka told Aiko that he bought the car in the 1980’s and had
kept it since, as it was so reliable. It was in excellent condition for a car
that was almost as old as Aiko.

“It may be an old car, but
it’s a good old Japanese car and they were built to last,” said Mr. Tanaka as
he started the engine and began to drive out of the airport garage.

On a Monday afternoon, the
traffic going east on the 105 freeway was light as cars whizzed along at about
70 miles per hour while Mr. Tanaka cruised along at a comfortable speed of 40
miles per hour. Mr. Tanaka and Mrs. Tanaka seemed entirely oblivious to the
other cars whizzing by them and continued driving calmly as Aiko exercised
extreme patience and restraint.

Eventually they reached the
Tanakas’ home, a simple ranch house. But it was well maintained; the lawn and
hedges were immaculate. It was mid-afternoon and Aiko found herself sitting on the
living room couch soon after she had freshened up. She was given slippers to
wear upon entering and took them immediately, abiding by the common Asian
custom to take off one’s shoes before entering someone’s home. Mrs. Tanaka was
preparing tea in the kitchen while Mr. Tanaka went to wash up.

As Aiko sat on the couch,
she looked around the modest living room, which was adorned with a few Japanese
items such as scrolls with brushed on Japanese characters and pictures
featuring Japanese art. On one wall, however, was the American flag. Aiko could
see Mrs. Tanaka in the kitchen through the doorway as she quietly busied
herself. Mr. Tanaka soon emerged from the other doorway that led out into the
little foyer. He had changed into another pair of brown slacks and a fresh
shirt. He was rolling up the sleeves. “I hope you’re comfortable,” he said.

“I’m fine, Mr. Tanaka,”
Aiko replied as Mr. Tanaka seated himself to her right.

Mr. Tanaka took another
look into Aiko’s warm brown eyes. “I can’t believe I have Hiroshi’s
granddaughter in my own living room.”

“Mr. Tanaka, the honor is
all mine,” answered Aiko.

“No Aiko. You don’t
understand–your grandfather saved my life, which is a debt I can never repay,”
Mr. Tanaka said solemnly.

Aiko looked into Mr.
Tanaka’s face and saw that his expression had changed. It was almost a wounded
look. His eyes then darted over to the wooden shelving in the corner behind
Aiko.

“Let me show you some
pictures of your grandfather,” Mr. Tanaka said as he got up from the couch.

Aiko grew excited. She had
never seen a picture of her grandfather. She got up and followed him to the
wooden shelves. He angled himself so that Aiko could get a clear view of the
several black-and-white pictures on the shelves.