Enduring the Great Depression’s hardships toughened my father. When the price of cotton, the crop his family farmed on fifteen acres, plummeted overnight from one dollar to five cents, he dropped out of school at a young age and joined his brothers in seeking any kind of work, just to keep the family fed.
When Japan attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, Dad entered the military as a sailor and was sent to Mobile, Alabama, where he, his new bride, and a newborn son (me) lived in what my mother later described as a modified chicken shack, with electricity, indoor plumbing, a toilet, and little more.
After the war, Dad returned to the Mississippi Delta and managed a large plantation for several years. In time, he borrowed enough money to buy a small tractor and a few implements, and rented two hundred acres of ground. He worked the land, watched every nickel, and increased his farm’s size to two thousand acres. He also bought a cotton gin and a home for his wife and six children.
Dad enjoyed reading about military leaders who distinguished themselves during World War II. Of course, his favorites were, like himself, sailors — men such as Admirals Chester Nimitz, William “Bull” Halsey, and Raymond Spruance, but he also studied the life of one of their archenemies, Japanese Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto.
Most Americans relate Yamamoto with a line from the movie “Tora! Tora! Tora” which was attributed to him: “I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant.”
Definitive Yamamoto biographies do not contain the line, but one of them does provide a quote by the admiral that shares a similar theme: “A military man can scarcely pride himself on having ‘smitten a sleeping enemy’; it is more a matter of shame … for the one smitten … the enemy … angered and outraged … will soon launch a determined counterattack.”
Another comment attributed to Yamamoto supposedly was made to his subordinates after hearing that the Pearl Harbor attack was successful: “Gentlemen, we have just kicked a rabid dog.” If he actually said this, he was simply using a metaphor. Educated in America, Yamamoto was generally fond of her people.
Dad once told me about Yamamoto’s death. While making an inspection tour in the South Pacific, he perished when American P-38 Lightnings shot down an aircraft on which he was aboard. Thrown clear of the wreckage, his body was leaning against a tree, with his samurai sword in one hand. “Those who live by the sword, die by the sword,” Dad observed.
Like so many of the “Greatest Generation,” Dad has passed on. I miss him, and will always respect him, not only because he provided well for his family, but also because he was one of the most patriotic men I have ever known.
Dad loved America. Following “the day that will live in infamy,” he answered her call and helped to prove that, indeed, the enemy had awakened a sleeping giant.
Jimmy Reed is an Oxford, Mississippi resident, Ole Miss and Delta State University alumnus, Vietnam Era Army Veteran, former Mississippi Delta cotton farmer and ginner, author, and retired college teacher.
This story is a selection from Jimmy Reed’s latest book, entitled The Jaybird Tales.
Copies, including personalized autographs, can be reserved by notifying the author via email (.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)).
