Mt. Fuji is a historic mountain and trademark for Japan. I first saw it in early 1945, February 25th to be exact, from the cockpit of a B-29 as we turned toward the east to make a bomb run on the Nakijima Aircraft factory. The target number was "357" and it claimed lots of B-29's. Many B-29 crew members became "missing in action" while others parachuted into Japan and became Prisoners-of-War.
The mountain stands alone almost 100-miles west of Tokyo. It is majestic-looking because it is usually topped with snow and its symmetry reminds one of an inverted ice-cream cone.
But that was 1945, and even though Mt. Fuji was interesting to look at, we were at war. So almost a quarter-century later when I was in Japan with my wife and 18-year old daughter, the subject of Mt. Fuji came up as a place to go and see close up.
It turned out that Mt. Fuji is sacred to the Japanese and every citizen is supposed to climb it once in their lifetime and turn to the east to view the rising sun. So to do that one must climb the mountain at night to get in position to see the rising sun and say a little prayer. I never did find out for sure but that term "rising sun" which became a name meaning Japan i.e. "Land of the Rising Sun", might have had its origin on Mt. Fuji.
The mountain is 14,000 feet high in round figures about like our Pikes Peak in Colorado. But it is volcanic and made of dirty, black volcanic ash. That's why it is so striking when it has nice, white snow on top which is most of the year. As I listened to the explanation of what Mt. Fuji was to the Japanese people my family became more and more interested until someone said, "Would you like to climb it?"
Before I could say "No", the decision was made for me and planning commenced. We were at Yokota Air Base just west of Tokyo and Mt. Fuji was a long distance away to the west but I was committed to climb Mt. Fuji the next night along with some Air Force guys from the base plus a Japanese friend. The Japanese boy had climbed it before
We were told there would probably be 10,000 people climbing Mt. Fuji any night when there was good weather. I could hardly believe that but it turned out to be fairly accurate. We were all in pretty good shape. My wife was a golfer and my daughter was a life guard and excellent swimmer. The only things we lacked were climbing shoes, the proper flash lights and sweaters which we borrowed.
The next day we got some shoes and flashlights and headed for the train station for the train ride to the base of Mt. Fuji. Once there we got on a bus and learned that the bus takes you to about the 5,000-level where you get out and start climbing. When we arrived at that point on the bus I thought we were at a major football game. While I didn't count buses there must have been a hundred of them in a parking area bigger than Yankee Stadium. Gift shops were everywhere. People were everywhere. I never saw so many "crazy mountain-climbers" in my life. But it was now about ten o'clock at night and we had to get started as we had 9,000 feet to climb.
The path up the mountain is not all that steep since it winds back and forth. You might walk a lot to gain four or five feet in altitude but it is not steep-at least at the 5,000 level. But one could look up the path and see the lights up above all the way to the top. You'll never see another sight like that and I kept thinking a line like that strung out in a straight line must be several miles long.
As we progressed upwards the path got a little steeper but what began to bother me was the ditches along the path got deeper and deeper to the extent that one would not want to fall into one. This is where it became obvious that better flashlights were required which we didn't have. And we had climbed vertically only maybe a thousand feet or so.
Next came a little hut built into the mountainside and it had a fairly large, long and narrow patio on the front side so you could look down on the bus parking lot to see where you had been then turn around and look up to see where you were going. I guessed it was now about 11:30 P.M. so we had to get going.
After leaving the little hut the path got steeper and the ditches alongside got deeper. I was not too thrilled with that development and then it happened. My flashlight got dim, my wife's flashlight got dim and my daughter's flashlight showed weakness. I kept thinking about that hut perhaps 500 feet below us and I could just see the headlines "Air Force General falls trying to climb Mt. Fuji and breaks leg". So we turned around and headed down to the little hut. As I recall a couple of our guys went with us while some others decided to go on to the top.
Inside the little hut it was very pleasant. They had a pot-bellied stove and a little pit you could sit around and drink tea. But I noticed a large blanket hanging from the ceiling behind me and I had to see what was behind it so I lifted up the bottom for a peek. What I saw was sixty-five high school kids all sound asleep on the floor. I learned they would be awakened by their teacher shortly and start their climb to the top and we could have their beds on the floor.
So in a few minutes I heard a whistle (from their teacher) and a lot of scuffling and they formed a "military formation" out on the patio and marched off to commence their climb to the top. By this time it was past mid-night and we moved to the now vacant room and went to sleep on some nice warm blankets. Of course the floor was a little hard but this was Japan.
I was awakened just
before dawn by several voices outside on the patio and couldn't figure
out what it was all about so I got up and went outside and what did
I see? A crowd of elderly Japanese ladies all jabbering in their native
tongue. So I went back inside and found an English-speaking man around
the stove and asked him what all these elderly ladies were doing there.
I hate to tell all of you B-29'ers this but these were his approximate words, "Those ladies are all in their seventies and eighties, and this is as high as they can go but they come one time every year to watch the sunrise so they will be sure they can go to heaven when they die".
With that I woke up my wife and daughter and we went outside with the elderly Japanese ladies just as the dawn began to break in the east toward Tokyo. It was a beautiful sight which I will never forget. Maybe I will see some of them in Heaven.
