As the WRA had hoped, the relocation program began picking up speed almost immediately, with a hundred internees departing Manzanar in March for work furlough jobs in Grand Junction, Colorado; Chicago, Illinois; Madison, Wisconsin; and scores of other communities. Ruth’s neighbor, Alice Arikawa, left for a job as a civilian clerk for the Army in Washington, D.C.—clearly with two brothers in the military, her loyalty was not in question. That number grew to three in June, when nineteen-year-old Burns Arikawa also enlisted. Mrs. Arikawa was sad to see them go but obviously very proud as well. None of this surprised Ruth—this family was more patriotic and sacrificing than most white families she knew—but what did surprise her was, on the same day Burns enlisted, Ralph dropped by to tell Ruth and Frank that he, too, had volunteered for the Army.
“What!” Ruth was flabbergasted. “You’re kidding!”
“Nope. I leave for the recruiting center in Salt Lake City on the twelfth.”
“Well—congratulations,” Frank said brightly. “We had no idea you were even considering this.”
“Been thinking about it for a couple months. Writing all those flag-waving stories for the paper just started to feel so goddamn hypocritical. I really do believe the U.S. has to win this war, but I wasn’t willing to put my money where my mouth was. It may not be fair that Nisei have to prove our loyalty by fighting for this country, but if that’s what it takes to convince the hakujin that we’re Americans too, then somebody’s got to do it.”
Ruth was badly shaken. “But why does that somebody have to be you?”
“Why not? I’m single, no dependents. What good am I doing in Manzanar, writing for a government-censored newspaper in a concentration camp? At least I’ll get the hell out of here. And if I die, I’ll die a free man.”
Ruth suddenly burst into tears, jumped to her feet, and ran outside.
Ralph, genuinely nonplussed, looked to Frank. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming. Um, which one of us goes after her?”
“I think you do.” Frank smiled. “You’ve known her longer.”
Ralph followed the sound of weeping to the ladies’ latrine, where he paused at the threshold.
“Sis? It’s gonna be okay. I shouldn’t have said that, I’m not gonna die.”
The weeping stopped, and in a few moments Ruth came out, looked at her brother—and punched him in his left arm, just below the shoulder.
“Oww!” he cried out. “What the hell was that for?”
“Damn it, Ralph, why are you are always getting yourself into trouble?”
Ralph rubbed his arm. “That hurt. You’re mean.”
“Sorry. Reflex action.”
Ralph said gently, “I won’t always have my sister to help bail me out of trouble. It’s time I started doing that for myself.”
“But it’s you who’ve always helped me. From my very first day, when you showed me how to use chopsticks.”
He laughed. “Didn’t think you remembered that.”
“I remember you helping me with chopsticks and later walking with me to my new school. Everything important.” She dried her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse. “God, I could use a stiff drink right now.”
“One of my roommates has a still. He brews a pretty decent beer.”
“Sold. Get some for Frank too. We’ll toast to your enlistment.” She hugged him, and as she did she said softly, “You’d damn well better not die.”
* * *
Taizo and Etsuko greeted the news as stoically as they could manage, with a mix of pride and fear. Burns Arikawa and Ralph left Manzanar together. Burns’s mother, Teru, added a third blue star to the service flag hanging in their barrack window, as Etsuko quietly hung up her first.
But by late summer it became clear that there had been an additional purpose to the registration program.
Beginning in August, a review board began “segregation hearings” in Manzanar and the other nine internment camps for those who answered “no-no,” in order to determine those who were disloyal to the United States. The aim was to isolate them, along with other “troublemakers”—the latter including many who simply had stood up for their civil rights—in a single camp: the newly rechristened Tule Lake Segregation Center in Northern California.
Manzanar’s Project Director, Ralph Merritt, stressed to the residents that everyone would have an opportunity to clarify or recant his or her answers to Questions 27 and 28; the people sent to Tule Lake would not be mistreated in any way, but removing them from the general population would allow the “loyal” residents of Manzanar to live here free of insecurity and unrest.
Taizo’s notice came on August 20. At first he tried to hide it, but when Etsuko finally saw it he tried to dismiss it. “Many men are being asked to appear. They cannot send us all away, can they?”
“Why are they asking you to appear, Otōsan? You did answer the last two questions ‘yes-yes,’ did you not?” When he failed to respond she snapped, “Taizo, answer me! Did you say ‘yes-yes’?”
“Everything will be all right, Okāsan. Trust me. And do not tell anyone else of this. There is no use worrying over a hearing before it has happened.”
Etsuko did not like this but honored his wishes, saying nothing to Ruth or Horace at dinner and sleeping barely a wink that night.
The next morning Taizo put on his business suit and reported to Block 31’s recreation building where the Segregation Board—consisting of Ralph Merritt and three other administration officials—greeted him and asked him to sit down in front of the rec table where the board sat.
Merritt said, “Mr. Watanabe, our records show that you answered ‘no’ to Question 28. Was that, in fact, your answer?”
“Yes,” Taizo replied, “it was.”
“Do you believe you understood the question when you answered it?”
“Yes.”
A woman, Miss Adams, spoke up: “Did you make the answer of your own free will without influence, threats, or pressure from others?”
“Yes.”
“Did your answer mean that you were not loyal to the true principles of the U.S. government as you understand them?” she asked.
“No. I believe in those principles. Or … I used to.”
“So was your ‘no’ answer, then,” Merritt said carefully, “intended merely as a protest against what you considered unfairness and discrimination against you like evacuation and detention, and not intended to indicate that you were either loyal to Japan or disloyal to the U.S.?”
Taizo considered that a long moment, then answered, “If I swore loyalty to America, would America repay my loyalty with citizenship?”
Merritt sighed. “Not at this time.”
“And if I swear allegiance to America and Japan wins the war, will the Japanese government then brand me a traitor because of that?”
Merritt said, “I can’t answer that, Mr. Watanabe.”
“We Japanese value fidelity and honor above all, Mr. Merritt. If I reject allegiance to Japan, I will become a man without a country, and possibly a traitor to be executed. If I reject allegiance to America, I will either be segregated or deported. The second choice seems less fatal.”
“Mr. Watanabe, would you like to answer Questions 27 and 28 today in the affirmative? Say ‘yes’ to them? There’s still time to change your answers.”
Taizo shook his head and said, “No.”
“Do you wish to make any statement?”
“Yes. I do.”