Pathway to Japanese Literature

I After seeing off their fellow soldiers returning to the mainland and coming back from the station, the two men lay down on their bunks in the barracks and let out long sighs without saying a word. They would have to endure another year before they could return to the mainland.

The two of them recalled how excruciatingly boring and long their past year in Siberia had been. After becoming second-year soldiers and working at the garrison hospital for a while, they had been dispatched to Siberia. Over a hundred fellow soldiers had boarded the steamship together from Tsuruga. When they arrived in Siberia, the fourth-year soldiers and some third-year soldiers who had been stationed there until then returned to the mainland.

Siberia lay blanketed in snow as far as the eye could see. The river had frozen, and sleds pulled by pack horses passed over it. To avoid slipping on the ice, they put on cold-weather boots with felt affixed to the soles, donned fur hats and coats, and ventured out into the open. White-beaked crows gathered on the snow, pecking incessantly at something. When the snow melted, the unchanging withered fields lay exposed as far as the eye could see. Herds of horses and cattle began to wander, roaring and moaning. Before long, the roadside grass sprouted green buds. Then, on the distant grasslands and the nearby hills alike, patches of green grass began to sprout here and there. Within about a week, the grasslands—once completely barren—turned entirely green, the grass sprouting, the trees stretching out their branches, and geese and ducks beginning to move about here and there.

In summer, they moved with the infantry unit to near the Russo-Chinese border. In October, there was a clash with the Red Guards.

They withdrew from the front lines by armored train.

The grassland was shrouded in mist, and for about a week, even just half a *chō* ahead remained invisible. They occupied a brick structure on a hill—formerly a barracks of the Russian Army—cleaned it, partitioned rooms with wooden boards to set up operating tables, brought in medical supplies, and hung a wooden sign labeled "Army Hospital" at the entrance.

November brought the first snow. The fallen snow did not melt; instead, more snow fell and piled up, layer upon layer. Along the path from the valley spring where coolies carried water up to the hospital, spilled droplets froze—and since this happened daily, ice piled high on both sides of the trail, stretching like mountain ranges. They lit the *pechka* and shut themselves indoors.

The two of them recalled the past year that had gone by. As they witnessed soldiers being injured, having their legs or arms amputated, or dying before their very eyes, they constantly thought of the mainland and waited for the day when replacement troops would arrive and they could return home.

The replacement troops arrived. It was exactly the same time of year as when they had been dispatched and arrived last year. The majority of fourth-year soldiers and third-year soldiers were to return home. However, among the third-year soldiers, only two had to be left behind to guide the second-year soldiers who had just completed their first-year training in the mainland.

The Military Doctor and the Head Nurse held a discussion. They wanted to send back the ill-natured, unruly, and difficult-to-manage soldiers at this juncture. And so Yoshida and Komura—docile, hardworking, and easy to command—were ordered by the Military Doctor to remain.

II

No one wanted to stay long in Siberia.

There was a man named Yashima—bold and fond of violence, who often brandished his bayonet to slash Russians, and when lacking opponents, took amusement in stabbing to death cattle or pigs wandering the fields—a man who sported a small mustache beneath his nose.

“You can’t do this kind of thing once you’re back in the mainland, you know. I’m gonna have plenty of fun in Siberia—where there’s no law or anything.” He often snapped at the Military Doctor and Head Nurse. At one point, he had even grabbed a pistol and chased the Military Doctor around. It was said he had been infuriated by the Military Doctor’s demand for regular attendance. He took aim at the fleeing Military Doctor from behind and fired his pistol with a thunderous roar. The shot missed, piercing through the double-layered window glass.

Everyone had thought he would wish to remain in Siberia.

“Whether you stay in Siberia one year or two—look at it from your whole lifetime’s span and it’s all the same, ain’t it? No damn difference at all!”

He would say carefree things in front of everyone.

However, when deciding on repatriates, the Military Doctor and Head Nurse had written Yashima’s name at the very top of the list. In other words, keeping those who brandished bayonets or fired pistols here would be dangerous and troublesome.

There was a man called Fukuda who had volunteered to come to Siberia. Fukuda had some command of Russian. He had volunteered to come to Siberia with the intention of practicing Russian. With a certain boldness, once he started conversing with Russians, he would neglect his work and talk for two or three hours straight. His hope was to return to the mainland only after he had become sufficiently proficient in Russian.

However, Fukuda’s name too was clearly inscribed in the repatriation roster.

Such examples were still more numerous.

There was a man who left the hospital without permission and stayed at a Russian’s home for three days. That constituted desertion, and desertion during wartime was punishable by firing squad. But by keeping it secret, the man was spared from punishment. However, as a substitute, both he and everyone else had resigned themselves to the expectation that he would be kept on until becoming a fourth-year soldier. Yet that man too was clearly listed as one of the repatriates.

And so, those left behind were Yoshida and Komura—the two who worked diligently and were easy to manage. Both had always strived to behave obediently and work hard, believing their reward would be an early return home. Even when slightly ill or exhausted, they forced themselves to work without neglecting their duties. And what they had gained as their reward was nothing more than having to remain in Siberia for one more year for their country.

They felt as though they had been ambushed, their chests churning with such nausea that they couldn’t help but want to lash out recklessly.

III

――While waiting for the train, Yashima said. “You’re all fools in the end.—If you wanted to go home sooner, you should’ve done like I did.” “Anyone’d want docile sheep under ’em—that’s only natural. But whether you rot here one year or two, makes no difference in a whole lifetime.” “Well, take care now.”

Having heard that, both Yoshida and Komura were listless. What were their comrades of the same year doing now that they had already returned to the mainland? And how was the girl who'd been there before enlistment faring these days? Who would come to welcome them? They had utterly forgotten about the brothel women they'd frequented so zealously until just recently, and now spoke incessantly of such things. "When I get home," Yoshida said, "I'm getting myself a wife right away."

Even Fukuda, who had volunteered to come to Siberia, was now hurrying to return to the mainland.

“I don’t need to know Russian anymore—if I take over my old man’s business, I won’t go hungry. I’m sick and tired of Siberia, where partisans could kill me any day now.”

The two of them had been excluded from the group of those returning and were huddled in a corner of the waiting room. The two had not originally been comrades who got along well. Komura was reserved and shy; he would certainly do what others told him, but he was not the type to take initiative in matters. Yoshida was overbearing. But because he was good-natured, whenever he meddled in things, he ended up having to take them on himself. When the two of them were together, Yoshida always decided things as he saw fit. He put on a grown-up air. This inwardly did not sit well with Komura. However, now they both felt they had no choice but to get along. Even if there were things they disliked, they thought they had to endure them. There were only two soldiers from their enlistment year. For the next year, they had to help each other survive.

“Well then, thanks for going out of your way to see us off.”

When the train arrived, those returning, carrying backpacks stuffed with unusual souvenirs, pushed their way into the cars ahead of everyone else. There, they took their seats, removed their cold-weather caps, and pressed their faces against the glass windows.

There was no platform raised one step above the tracks. The two of them stood between the rails and looked up at the massive train. From inside the windows, the returnees laughed one by one and called out something. But when they tried to laugh back, their cheeks contorted against their will, threatening tears at any moment.

Because they didn’t want their faces to be seen like that, they stayed silent and sullen.

……The train started moving.

The faces peering out from the windows quickly withdrew.

The two of them could do nothing to stop the tears they had been holding back from flooding their faces all at once.…

“Hey, let’s go back to the hospital.” Yoshida said. “Yeah.” Komura’s voice quavered. As if rebelling against this, Yoshida—

“Let’s race to that bridge.”

“Yeah.” Komura replied in his usual resigned tone. “One, two, three!” Yoshida took the lead, and the two of them ran about a hundred meters, but before they had even made it halfway to the bridge, their momentum faltered and they stopped.

The two of them dragged their heavy legs back to the hospital.

For five or six days, they left all duties to the second-year soldiers and slept like logs in the barracks.

Four

“Hey, let’s go rabbit hunting.” It was Yoshida who said this. “Are there even rabbits around here in the first place?”

Komura was sleeping with the blanket pulled up over his nose. "They’re here. …Look, right there—they’re darting around." Yoshida pointed out the window. He had been lying on his stomach for some time now, watching the distant hill through the double-paned window. The hill undulated, stretching all the way to the distant mountains. On the hill were thickets here and there, clusters of bushes, and mounds where pebbles had been gathered into piles. They were now buried under snow, the entire expanse turned white and indistinguishable.

Apparently, the rabbits would dart out from where the thickets had been, vanish into the snow, and after a while, emerge again from another spot, scampering about. Their large ears were the first thing to catch the eye. But unless you were very careful, they looked just like snow and were impossible to distinguish. “There, they’re out.” Yoshida whispered urgently. “They’re bouncing up and down!” “Where?…” Komura lumbered to his feet and came to the window. “I can’t see anything at all.”

“Look closely—they’re hopping.” “……There, they’re running toward that pile of stones.” “You can see their long ears, right?”

Both of them had grown tired of sleeping. Even so, their duties felt absurd, and they couldn’t bring themselves to take them seriously. Had their same-year comrades who had been repatriated reached Tsuruga by now? Their service period would soon end, and they’d be able to return home! The two of them could think of nothing but such things. To come to Siberia, the night before boarding the ship, they had stayed overnight in Tsuruga. They found themselves remembering that night. The port town was remembered with such nostalgia, how vividly it shone. How many years had it been since they’d seen the sea!

The two of them felt as though they had already been in Siberia for over three years—no, closer to five. Why was it necessary to send troops to Siberia and keep pushing like this? The soldiers were killing Russians and being killed by Russians. If they hadn’t even started sending troops to Siberia in the first place, they themselves wouldn’t have been held back in a place like this even after becoming third-year soldiers.

The two of them regretted having been too earnest and docile up until now. They had to act recklessly, do as they pleased—otherwise they’d be worse off. They would live out the coming year exactly as they pleased. That’s what they thought.

Yoshida put on his cold-weather gear, gripped a rifle loaded with bullets, and ran out of the barracks. “Hey, is it okay to use live ammunition to shoot rabbits?”

Komura, too, while putting on his cold-weather gear as Yoshida had done, voiced his doubts. “Who cares?!” “I wonder if Bu (the Head Nurse) will get angry…”

Guns and live ammunition had been supplied to the hospital as well, but their use was prohibited except during emergencies. An emergency, in other words, referred to situations such as being under enemy attack. Yoshida went out regardless. Komura, too—feeling that things would work out later—gripped his rifle and followed after Yoshida. Yoshida jumped over the fence of the hospital grounds, walked twenty or thirty paces, then stopped and pulled the trigger.

He had often gone deer hunting in the home islands. He had grown accustomed to firing a hunting rifle. When using an infantry rifle for target practice, one had to remain calm, take careful aim, and then fire—but in hunting there was no time for such precision. The target would be an animal fleeing for its life. He had to aim in an instant and shoot. He had trained himself to fire the moment the rifle settled in his palm—and with that method, his shots struck true.

No sooner had a gunshot—like those heard in battle—rang out than the rabbit arced through the air, soaring about six feet high before landing in the distance. There was indeed a solid hit.

“Got it! Got it!”

Yoshida lowered his rifle, signaled to Komura behind him with a quick glance, and ran ahead.

There lay the rabbit, entrails exposed, staining the snow crimson with its blood as it sprawled like a child. "I can shoot too. Won't another one come out somewhere?" Komura refused to be outdone. "There are some—I saw two or three of them."

The two climbed a hill, descended into a valley, and then climbed up the next hill. In a slightly sunken area along the way, there was a cluster of shrubs. The two had no sooner crunched through the snow and reached the spot than a long-eared creature leaped out from the base of the shrubs ahead. The first to spot it was Yoshida. “Hey, let me shoot—Hey!……” Komura restrained his friend’s raised rifle.

“Think you can handle it?” “You bet I can.” Komura took longer than Yoshida to take aim. But the bullet found its mark. The rabbit soared another dozen feet through the air before crumpling to the ground.

Five The two of them secretly took out the live ammunition stored in the warehouse. Each concealing about ten rounds in their pockets, they set out for the hills every day.

On their return, they always brought back game.

“If we keep catching this many, Siberia’s rabbits will go extinct.”

Yoshida would say things like that. But when they went out the next day, again, the rabbits—startled by the sound of their boots crunching through the snow—lowered their long ears and leaped out from the grass thicket. When they found prey, they never let it escape. “Where did you manage to get the bullets from?”

The Head Nurse implicitly tried to prevent the two—who were shirking their duties and obsessed with hunting—from leaving the hospital. “I got them from the regiment,” Yoshida said. “Lately, Partisans have been showing up here and there—you need to watch yourselves and not go trampling into dangerous spots!” “If Partisans come around, we’ll gun ’em down like rabbits.”

Winter deepened. The two went out hunting to vent their frustrations and endure the boredom. The rabbits’ footprints gradually became fewer. New snow fell as flat as a leveled field over the path they had crushed through the snow with their boots. However, there, new footprints were scarcely left anymore. “At this rate, Siberia’s rabbits will go extinct.” The two laughed at their own words. Day after day, they crossed distant hills, traversed valleys, climbed mountains, and slipped through the regiment’s barbed-wire security perimeter to venture further out. The snow was deep, reaching up to their waists. They found this amusing, kicking through the snow as they strode on.

The prey gradually dwindled. There were times when it took half a day to catch just one each. In such times, on their way back, the two would turn around and climb back up the mountain, recklessly firing all their remaining bullets aimlessly into the sky.

One day, the two slipped through the barbed wire and descended into the valley. From the valley, they climbed the next mountain. Nothing met their eyes but endless snow; the sun hung pallid and faint, windless air carrying only the crunch of their boots through snow. Both the town housing their regiment and the hospital-crowned hill lay hidden behind rearward mountains. After walking along the mountaintop awhile, the path dipped again toward another valley. In the valley spread a marsh. Ice had seeped upward through its frozen surface. Beyond the marsh, snow-buried under white drifts, stood two or three civilian houses.

The two had not yet shot down a single rabbit. Once they flushed out a long-eared creature, but both missed their shots. They tracked and searched where it had fled and hidden, but the rabbit never showed even a glimpse of its ears after that.

“Let’s go back.” Komura stopped, unnerved by the presence of unidentifiable civilian houses. “You want to go back without a single rabbit? —Not me.” Yoshida trudged down toward the marsh. Komura reluctantly followed his friend.

The valley was deep. In the valley, there was a river flowing into the marsh, and it seemed to be frozen. And the river flowed into the marsh, then seemed to exit it and continue downstream.

As they descended，suddenly，a large rabbit leaped out from under their feet. They instinctively adjusted their grip on their rifles and fired. The rabbit was shot down before it had even managed to get twelve meters away. Their bullets seemed to strike almost simultaneously. The cute，charming creature，struck by bullets meant for humans，had its long-eared head cruelly torn from its body. It was probably that two bullets struck its neck with an interval of about an inch between them.

The two rested there awhile, the prey before them with its blood trickling across the snow and freezing solid. They were tired, and their throats were dry.

“Let’s go back.” Komura urged. “No, let’s go check out that marsh.” “No, I’m going back.” “It’s practically right there!” With that, Yoshida lifted the prey still dripping with blood, and as he stood up, he glanced back at the mountain they had descended from. “Oh!”

He involuntarily let out a cry of shock. On the mountaintop—where until their descent there had been nothing but endless snow, not a single dog or person visible—now stood a brown-bearded Russian man in a fur coat, rifle in hand, gazing down at them. This was either a bandit or unquestionably a partisan. Komura's legs had gone numb as if paralyzed; he couldn't stand up.

“Hey, let’s get out of here.” Yoshida said. “Wait a second!”

Komura’s legs simply would not obey him.

"No need to fear—we're fine," Yoshida said. "If they come any closer—I'll kill them."

But he panicked and tried to flee. But even though they had thought there were no civilian houses on this mountainside and that the escape route lay open, right there before them, six or seven houses lay hidden beneath the snow. That these were dwellings of Russians was beyond doubt. The Russians on the mountain had scattered. And soon, they began to approach from all directions, encircling the two.

Yoshida grabbed his rifle, took aim at the approaching men, and opened fire. Komura likewise raised his weapon. But unlike when they shot rabbits with casual ease—almost amusement—they found no such composure now. Even when lining up shots, their trembling hands made the rifles buck against their will. The scant ten bullets vanished in moments. Swinging their guns like clubs, they lunged at their attackers—only to have burly men swarm from every direction, seizing their arms and wrenching the rifles from their grasp.

Yoshida was pinned down by a young man reeking of burlap, his breath nearly stopping.

A sturdy old man with large eyes that held an intense gleam spoke in a resonant, commanding voice as if issuing an order to those who had subdued the two. The young man who had been pinning down Yoshida replied to the old man with a few words. Yoshida was forced to his feet.

The old man approached the two men—held immobile by seven or eight unyielding hands—and, with an obstinate glare that demanded a confession, asked something in Russian.

Neither Yoshida nor Komura understood Russian. Yet through the old man's gaze and gestures, they sensed he suspected they had come to investigate their situation and was trying to extract from them how many Japanese soldiers were currently garrisoned in the town. Even now, Japanese soldiers might come swarming down from the mountain. The old man appeared attentive even to such possibilities. Yoshida said in remembered Russian, "Neponimayu" (I don't understand).

The old man stared intently at the two for a while with an obstinate gaze. A young man wearing an indigo-colored hat interjected something. “Neponimayu” (I don’t understand). Yoshida repeated. “Neponimayu” (I don’t understand). The tone had unwittingly taken on a pleading quality.

The old man said something to the young men. Then the young men began stripping the two of everything—from their cold-weather gear and military uniforms down to their undershirts, long johns, boots, and even their socks. ……The two men were stripped completely naked and made to stand in the snow. They realized they would soon be shot dead. Two or three young men were methodically searching through the pockets of the stripped uniforms. The other two young men, holding rifles, started to move a short distance away. Yoshida thought they were going to kill them. Then he involuntarily blurted out in halting Russian, “Help! Help!” However, the phrase he remembered was not accurate. The words he had intended as “Help!” (*spasite*) came out sounding like “Thank you” (*spasibo*).

To the Russians, there was no sign of heeding the two men’s pleas. The old man’s fierce eyes had grown indifferent toward them.

The two young men who had moved away raised their rifles.

Until then, Yoshida had been standing quietly in the snow, but suddenly he broke into a run forward. Then, Komura also started running after him.

“Help!” “Help!” “Help!”

The two men ran across the snow, shouting all the while. But to the Russians, their cries—

“Thank you!” “Thank you!” “Thank you!”

“Thank you!”

“Thank you!” Was how their cries sounded.

……Soon, two gunshots resounded through the valley.

The old man had the young men gather the rifles, military uniforms, cold-weather gear, boots, and other items wrested from the two men and withdrew toward the snow-buried house. “Hey, don’t forget that headless rabbit either!”

Six

On the third day, when two companies of officers and privates had finally located them after an exhaustive search, the two men lay frozen in the exact color of their living flesh. On their backs, there was only a wound about the size of a little fingertip. Their faces had taken on expressions as though calling out to something, frozen stiff with eyes wide open. "I warned them beforehand—if they hadn't gone out rabbit hunting, this never would've happened!" The Head Nurse stood before the two men surrounded by a crowd of privates and spoke as though he bore no responsibility.

He did not consider that had he simply let them return home with the other third-year soldiers, this would never have happened! He was thinking about having to draft a report explaining the loss of two weapons and two sets of cold-weather gear. (March 1927)