Class Note 1943
Issue
May-June 2021
Back to circa 1941: Dick’s House finally released me on December 11. The surprise and stunning news of Pearl Harbor was still in the air. After I returned to 109 Middle Mass, my roommate Nobu Mitsui and I walked to Thayer Hall for an early lunch. I asked how he was faring and he said, “I’m all right. Things could be worse. But that Pearl Harbor was a complete shocker!” I readily agreed and cautioned Nobu to be extra patient and resilient. I heard later that Nobu had been taunted and heckled, mostly by younger rednecks. I immediately imagined that Nobu was probably quite adept in martial arts (judo). Nearly all the youth in Japan take judo training in their early school days. A close dorm friend told me that two upperclassmen from North Mass Hall had prevented an altercation by shouting, “Hey, stop it! We don’t need that kind of talk here in Hanover.” The younger students sheepishly walked away. Nobu never mentioned it to me.
Several months later I heard that President Hopkins, a good friend of F.D.R., had vouched for Nobu’s conduct while he was in Hanover. At about the same time I was having lunch with buddies on Main Street. A waitress told me “George, those two fellows want to talk to you.” I went outside and found two FBI agents. They asked, “What do you think of Takanobu Mitsui?” I instantly replied, “He’s harmless.” And, you know what, those same FBI fellows came by about 10 days before graduation (December 12, 1942) and, in the parking area outside, told me, “This is just a personal visit to wish you good luck. We know you’re going into the Army’s Military Intelligence Service on December 15, three days after graduation.” I would be just one of the 91 percent of our class who served in the armed forces in World War II. It is sad to remember that we lost 23 classmates in WW II. They will be forever young.
Our generation came through WW II. We were all born in the early 1920s. (I turned 100 last year.) At the time, serving in the military was the right thing to do. When we graduated, the U.S. and Allied forces were losing on all battlefronts. A total of 16 million soldiers were in uniform.
Our class sends heartfelt condolences to the families of John M. Jenkins, who died on November 23, 2020, in Hanover, and John W. Reps, who died on November 12, 2020, in Ithaca, New York.
—George Shimizu, 2140 Sepulveda Ave., Milpitas, CA 94595; (408) 930-2488; marymariko@comcast.net
Several months later I heard that President Hopkins, a good friend of F.D.R., had vouched for Nobu’s conduct while he was in Hanover. At about the same time I was having lunch with buddies on Main Street. A waitress told me “George, those two fellows want to talk to you.” I went outside and found two FBI agents. They asked, “What do you think of Takanobu Mitsui?” I instantly replied, “He’s harmless.” And, you know what, those same FBI fellows came by about 10 days before graduation (December 12, 1942) and, in the parking area outside, told me, “This is just a personal visit to wish you good luck. We know you’re going into the Army’s Military Intelligence Service on December 15, three days after graduation.” I would be just one of the 91 percent of our class who served in the armed forces in World War II. It is sad to remember that we lost 23 classmates in WW II. They will be forever young.
Our generation came through WW II. We were all born in the early 1920s. (I turned 100 last year.) At the time, serving in the military was the right thing to do. When we graduated, the U.S. and Allied forces were losing on all battlefronts. A total of 16 million soldiers were in uniform.
Our class sends heartfelt condolences to the families of John M. Jenkins, who died on November 23, 2020, in Hanover, and John W. Reps, who died on November 12, 2020, in Ithaca, New York.
—George Shimizu, 2140 Sepulveda Ave., Milpitas, CA 94595; (408) 930-2488; marymariko@comcast.net