Recovered, I returned to Company E by the Arno River. I was on night patrol when there was a mortar attack. I was wounded in the leg from shrapnel, and a Captain gave me a Purple Heart Medal. I said I had one already, which brought laughs from the other wounded men.
When I recovered I rejoined the company to go to Marseilles, France and then inland to Aix on Chapelle. Then to the Vosges Mountains, where we dug slit trenches and had a mail call with letters from Kuni in Topaz with news about the family. We marched forward through heavy shelling, reaching the outskirts of Bruyeres. I brought ammunition to the 1st platoon, where I met Danny Inouye, now a Lieutenant. I went on to deliver the ammo to the platoon sergeant when a German unit came and began blasting the area. The sergeant dropped into his foxhole and pulled me with him. I was wounded in the back. The sergeant had tears in his eyes as he said I had taken the hit that was meant for him. I made my way back to the Medical tent for treatment. X-rays revealed that the shrapnel had penetrated within ¾” of my lung. I was operated on and treated with penicillin, and a kind Red Cross representative brought me a pipe that I smoked for years after.
After returning to duty, I met Buddy, Kuni’s younger brother. We shared green tea and dried shrimp over a small fire. Mike Masaoka introduced me to a tall Red Cross representative named Larry Collins. We both had Cal Berkeley backgrounds and Larry, a Quaker, was active in the Berkeley Coop. When I was selected for a furlough home, Larry sent a wire to let my mother and wife know that I was coming for a visit.
I then flew to Boston, and went by train and bus to Topaz to hold Kuni and Jon in my arms. My father embraced me and neighbors brought gifts and fruit. Then I was sent back to Europe on the Queen Mary. I made it back to Italy, where I missed the 442nd attack that effectively ended the war in Italy. I remember after the war talking to a Black friend who had been an officer with the 92nd Battalion. He described ordering assault after assault on well entrenched German soldiers on two hills. He said the 442nd came in and in one savage nighttime attack routed the Germans; they surrendered on May 2, 1945. I was assigned to a personnel division, where I wrote citations for the soldiers, living and dead. This was the end of the war for me, as I was shipped back to the U.S. and examined by medics with a finding of 10% disability from my wound.
How did we survive? What kept us going when so many died? One night during an air raid in Italy, George Tatsumi had said, “What the hell am I doing here? Why did I volunteer? I don’t understand…” I replied, “You’re here because you’re helping to make a better life in a better world for my son when this damn war is over.” There was quiet, and then George said, “I’ll buy that.” And we both went to sleep.
Private George Tatsumi was killed in action in Italy on July 4, 1944.
This is part 3 of Tak Yatabe’s adapted excerpt from his memoir, Letters to His Grandsons by Takeshi Yatabe. © 1993, the Yatabe family.
To read part 1, see “Volunteer,” by Jon Yatabe.
To read part 2, see “Basic Training,” by Takeshi Yatabe.
Map source: The U.S. Army Center of Military History. Rome Arno: The U.S. Army Campaigns of World War II. CMH Pub 72–20. https://history.army.mil/portals/143/Images/Publications/catalog/72-20.pdf, p. 29 accessed 7/9/2026.
About the contributor: Takeshi Yatabe was born in San Francisco in 1907, the son of a shoemaker. His family moved to Berkeley when Tak was in high school, so he began commuting to his school by ferry, where he met his future wife, Kuni. After graduating from U.C. Berkeley in 1930, Tak worked as a manager in growers’ associations. He, Kuni, and son Jon were living in Redwood City, CA at the time of the forced removal. Tak volunteered from Topaz and joined the 442nd RCT. He served in Europe, and was awarded a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star. After the War he served as the manager of the California Flower Market until retirement. He passed away in 1989.
© 2026, Yatabe family.
Amazing