What My Father and Tule Lake Pilgrims Taught Me About World War II
I grew up unaware of the internment of about 110,000 Japanese-Americans, including children, who were labeled as “enemy aliens.”
Two vivid memories come to me as the world marks the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II: my father’s nightmares and an elderly woman’s tears as our bus entered the former camp at Tule Lake, California.
A Father’s Story of War and Loss
My father, Benjamin Pimentel Sr., was a teenager in the Philippines when Japan invaded shortly after Pearl Harbor. Like many young Filipinos, he joined the resistance movement. Captured and interrogated by the Kempetai, Japan’s secret police, he survived, but his brother, my Uncle Jesus, was later taken and never returned. Our family believed he had been executed.
Once strong and athletic, my father’s time as a guerrilla fighter in the jungle destroyed his health. He never recovered completely, and the war haunted him for decades through recurring nightmares.
Reflections Without Bitterness
Despite all that he endured, I never heard my father speak with hatred toward the Japanese. His memories were painful, yet his words remained balanced and restrained.
“The Japanese soldiers back then were very brutal,” he would say. “The Japanese imperial forces really caused a lot of damage.”
When I moved to America, I realized I never had to worry about introducing him to my Japanese-American friends. That taught me something important about forgiveness and memory.
Author’s Summary
The author reflects on his father's wartime trauma and the lessons of compassion and understanding learned from both personal history and the Tule Lake memorial journey.