The Japanese Air Force Base in Nara must be one of Kansai’s most closely kept secrets, as the general public has no clue of its very existence. Invariably, when I tell someone I teach English there they roll back their eyes, shocked to discover it’s in nearby Nara, about an hour south from Kyoto station, on the Kintetsu rail network. The following information is from their English language brochure.
“The location of the school provides a pleasant atmosphere for an officer candidate to refine traditional Japanese virtues and build up his mind and body. The school is in the northern part of Nara city which was once a part of the original domain of the Heijo Palace in ancient times. With ancient old royal burial grounds on its east and west sides, it is surrounded by many historical spots, temples, and shrines.”
Candidates from all over Japan, from Okinawa to Hokkaido, must study and complete the program here before they become officers in the Japanese Air Force. Those desiring to become Army or Navy officers must attend different schools, not in Nara. I have been helping them improve their English skills for 13 years or so, averaging 180 to 200 hours a year, the majority of it concentrated in the summer months of June, July, and August. For the most part, we (three other teachers join me) have four classes in the morning from 8:30 to 11:50 AM. To make that first class in time I have to get up around 5 AM, catch the subway at Kitaoji station to downtown Kyoto, then board the Kintetsu train to Yamato-Saidaiji, hop on a bus for a 15-minute ride to the base’s front gate, and finally, walk another 10 minutes to the classroom. Quite a time-consuming journey. Despite the strenuous effort required to arrive on time at the front gate, I consider this ongoing teaching assignment the most rewarding job I have ever had in Japan. It is an extraordinary pleasure and a genuine honor to work with such diligent and motivated students.
Being from the Air Force family myself, I have experienced firsthand some of the challenging aspects of the life they must follow upon graduation from the Academy, particularly, the frequent transfers from base to base they will face in the future. In my case it meant being born in Germany (no German blood) — as my father was stationed at the US air base in Paris at that time —followed by different bases in Florida and New Jersey, culminating in a final Pentagon assignment with the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Like a wandering nomad, my home was wherever I pitched my tepee or erected my yurt. Air Force officer blood flows through my veins, as my father became a US Air Force Base Commander and my younger sister retired as a Lt. Colonel working with air traffic control. I must admit I did break the tradition a wee bit when I decided to join the Marines, but that will be the focus of another essay. Hint — I thought Air Force too cerebral, too much like a country club, while I needed something more primitive and dangerous. Boy, did I get it and more. See my piece “From the Halls of Montezuma.”
We teach four different groups: the Boeidai Defense Academy graduates, cadets from any other university, noncommissioned officers, and the aviation cadets. First, the Boeidai candidates all have graduated from one of the four universities that enroll perspective Army and Navy students, as well. Located in the Tokyo area, the cadets receive a free education, plus room and board, in addition to an ¥80,000 monthly stipend. Of course, the Japanese government expects them to serve in the Self-Defense Forces after all that expense, but they are not legally required to do so, unlike their counterparts in the United States who are. Although Boeidai students can freely decide their own majors, they live and study in a semi-strict environment, are forced to join a club activity, and are only allowed off campus on Saturday night. According to my students, hazing from upper class members can be quite severe in the first year or so but after that becomes manageable. The Boeidai class runs for 22 weeks with them leaving in late October. This group is the most proficient in my native tongue, English, and last year I even had two who scored 990 on the TOEIC test — a perfect mark.
Next up is the regular university graduate group. They are graduates of any college other than the Defense Academy, so they are completely unfamiliar with military life when they show up in Nara. Their course runs for 40 weeks and surely must be stressful to many after enjoying a rather carefree world (at least that’s what I’ve heard), attending a normal non-military university in Japan.
The third group is one of my favorites for several reasons. The NCOs, non-commissioned officers, are older than the other three groups, like me, and have actual military experience. All are enlisted as I was, are at least Master Sergeants, and have been in the Air Force from 8 to 15 years. Many are married with children as well. Virtually all the other members, not interns (what we call this group), are single, and in their mid-20s. Most interns also smoke and drink more alcohol than I do, although in no way do I smoke tobacco after watching my father waste away from lung cancer caused by his stupid heavy smoking. No thanks, not for me. This group joined the Self-Defense Forces right after high school, at the same age that I joined the Marines, and their English skills are generally a bit lower than the others. They are a fun-loving bunch to party with when I invite them, and the other groups as well, on my summer missions to explore Kyoto. The boys are back in town.
The final group we work with are the pilots, aviation cadets, who stay only 15 weeks on the base here. They, like the interns, directly enter the Air Force after high school, bypassing the college route. Showing up at the Nara base after five years of rigorous training, these testosterone-laden lads, many hard drinking party animals, look like they have just stepped off the set of that movie Top Gun. Dashingly handsome, supremely confident, and bold as hell, they stand more than ready to defend Japan from hostile forces or break a poor woman’s heart. Much like pilots everywhere, I reckon. Just like my own father, a pilot himself, must have looked and acted when he was their age.
All candidates of the above groups can escape the base on Friday evenings and return late Sunday night if they don’t have special “weekend duty,” which they get about once every six weeks or so. They also enjoy, at least by Japanese standards, unusually long paid vacations twice a year — 10 days for a summer break in August and another 10 days for New Years. Stress relief for the weary cadets. Oh, I almost forgot, they also receive two hefty cash bonuses a year.
When everyone isn’t out doing basic drills on the parade grounds, no matter how dangerously hot it is, they are flopping and splashing around in the pool preparing for the three-hour swim test, playing soccer in the pouring rain, running around half-naked even when the mercury drops below 0° C, or melting in the non-air-conditioned gym learning how to bayonet someone. Why, I have no idea. After all, they are Air Force personnel, not bloody Marines or soldiers. Must be some sort of special mental or spiritual training, I guess. Otherwise, they are super busy studying in the classroom the five fields or areas they cover: 1) Moral Education, 2) regulations, 3) other subjects including English, psychology, and computers, 4) defense theory, and finally, 5) military exercise and physical education.
Being an ex-marine, I can’t help noticing some of the similarities and surprising differences between the Japanese and American armed forces. I find the most significant difference is that the members of the three branches of Japan’s Self-Defence Forces can suddenly quit and walk away anytime they feel like it, without any financial or other repercussions. Try that in the U.S.A. and you will end up in the brig (jail), as there is no escape possible unless you serve out the entire term prescribed in your contract, signed upon entry into the military. Desertion or being absent without leave (AWOL) are grave charges to face in an American court-martial if you decide to bail out early. Another head scratching difference concerns the two country’s officers’ clubs, where they go to drink alcohol on the base. The American clubs are strictly segregated by rank — one for the lowest ranked enlisted personal (E1 to E3), another for the NCOs, (E4 and up), and one for officers only, while the Japanese only have a single club open to all, regardless of rank. The Americans don’t want any issues that might arise — from friendships developed in the officers’ club between the enlisted men and the men who lead them — interfering with critical life and death decisions that have to be made on the battlefield. As a result, there is no social fraternizing on U.S. military bases between the “chiefs and the Indians.” The Self-Defense Forces of Japan don’t consider this a major problem. The American military does. At least this was the case in the early 1970s when I served.
Both countries’ armed forces have much in common regarding the physical training objectives. The Japanese Air Self-Defense Force (JASDF) requirements for physical fitness are quite similar to Marine standards. For the male cadets here, they should be able to do at least 40 push-ups, 8 pull-ups, run a 10 K course, and throw a softball some 45 meters. Why anyone in any Air Force needs to be able to throw a damn softball so far remains a mystery to me. Grenade practice maybe? Marines, Army, yes. Air Force and Navy, no. The physical demands on the female cadets — around 5% of the total enrollment and growing — are less strenuous in the number of push-ups and pull-ups, but they must complete the three-hour swim test and 60 K hike just like the men do. The swim test for the Japanese Air Force cadets is far more exhausting than the short 45-minute dead men’s float trial in a swimming pool at my boot camp way back in 1969. They bus from Nara to Fukui on the west coast of Japan and must swim in the ocean for three agonizing hours with no break, often harassed by stinging jellyfish. I’m convinced more than a few of my fellow Marine recruits would drown or have to be rescued facing such an ordeal. Make that certain.
In addition, both Japanese and Marine recruits have comparable force marches that seriously challenge even the most gung-ho members. For the Japanese, it’s a one full day hike with no sleep, from 7 AM to 7 AM, of 60 km through the surrounding countryside, in full gear of course. The Marines do a two-day march now of 54 km, with four hours of sleep allowed, named the “Crucible.” Unfortunately for the Boeidai and Intern groups, their hike falls smack dab in the middle of Kansai’s infamous summer where the sickening, life-threatening humidity reigns supreme, suffocating all warm-blooded mammals indiscriminately. Only hopeless fools or mad dogs venture outside. Wiser fools free the country or glue themselves to the nearest air conditioning unit. Even the simple task of breathing becomes a punishing labor. We human beings were in no way designed to comfortably exist in such outrageously humid conditions. There is no exit, no escape from the lunacy for me as I am super busy in the summer, nor for the Air Force cadets trapped in Nara. Companions in pain we are.
These forced marches the Japanese submit themselves to are certainly the most oppressive segment of their training in Nara, especially the Intern one in late June and the Boeidai jaunt in early July. The university group catches an enormous break as they march in November, minus the wicked humidity. They face different threats then, near freezing temperatures and bloodsucking leeches waiting patiently in the bushes, hoping to sample a sip or two of theirs. At least they don’t have to worry about someone dying from heat stroke, which is what almost happened one summer during a dreadful June Intern march. One cadet went into cardiac arrest and was fortunately revived with CPR. The Nara base was that close to having their first official forced march fatality. That was not the only problem that fateful day. A dozen or more additional cadets fell by the wayside, unable to complete the march. Conditions were so horrific that the officer in charge terminated this disaster in the making at the halfway point and everyone returned to the base. This debacle marked the first time they failed to complete the full 60 kilometers in the 13 years I taught at the base. A wise decision it was. Better safe than brain-fried by the relentless humidity.
Several years ago our civilian minders let us out of class early one morning to greet the weary force marchers as they stumbled back to base. Somehow this group completed their mission, unlike the above-mentioned one. Never, under any circumstances, had I seen such a hollow-eyed and haggard bunch of human beings. Ghastly was the color of their flag heralding their return. The walking dead they were. The intense summer heat and humidity had shriveled them up. Even close relatives might not recognize the forlorn bodies that trooped in that day.
The native English teachers are off in September and October, returning to the base in late November to instruct the university cadets. This group, being the least experienced of the four we work with, must barrack there the longest. Whichever group I teach, the time spent in the classroom is time I value and cherish. Never have I had more gratification or felt more fulfillment in helping people better communicate with their fellow human beings. I want to thank IES (International Education Services) for giving me the opportunity to teach at the Nara base, and I also greatly appreciate all the help and support from the civilian staff who run the English program there, especially Mr. Mori. Most of all, I want to thank the many Air Force candidates who came to my class, day after day, month after month, year after year, to brighten up the early morning with their infectious enthusiasm. What a distinguished group you are. Bless you all and good luck with your careers as proud officers serving in this great country we call Japan.