Saburo Sakai suffered a heart attack at Atsugi Naval Air Station on Thursday, September 21, 2002, while reaching across the table to shake hands with an American navy officer. He died at the hospital a few hours later. He was 84. Atsugi of course was a major training and operational base for the Japanese navy air force during WWII, and afterward an American base. That's his ceremonial shrine at his memorial service, kindness of Andrew Wilson in Tokyo. The interview below was posted on rec.aviation.military several years ago by Scott T. Hards, who works in Japan and speaks the language.
By Scott Hards
On Sunday, August 11th [1998], I had the unique pleasure of being invited to the Tokyo home of Mr. Saburo Sakai, the great Japanese WWII Zero ace. Over the course of three hours, he and I discussed a number of topics, almost all related to his exploits in the war, but to some broader issues as well. What follows are some of the more interesting things he had to say....
Sakai-san turns 80 this month, but is in excellent health, physically and mentally. He speaks very energetically, gesturing broadly all the time. He's the type of senior citizen that everybody hopes they can one day be.
I will point out that I did not take notes nor use a tape recorder during our conversation, and these "quotes" are paraphrased by myself to the best of my memory. Please do not repeat them or attribute them to Sakai-san in any published forum. The conversation was entirely in Japanese, and in my translations, I've attempted to choose language that best represents the atmosphere of how Sakai-san himself was saying it. The order is roughly the order that we discussed these topics in.....
On the Zero
During the war, I was convinced the Zero Model 21 was the best fighter plane anywhere. It was always number one with me. Then a few years ago, at Champlin, I had the chance to fly in a Mustang and take the controls for a while. What an incredible plane! It could do anything the Zero could, and many things the Zero can't, like a high-speed, spiraling dive. In the Zero, the stick would be too heavy to control the plane at those speeds. The Mustang's number one with me now, and I'm afraid the Zero's number two!
On the Type 96 Carrier Fighter "Claude"
That was the most incredible fighter of its day, by far. When the Zero was rolled out, we put two equal pilots in a Type 96 and a Zero and had them dogfight. The Type 96 won quite quickly. Then we had them switch planes. The Type 96 won again. Everybody thought the Zero was a failure at that point. But they liked the Zero's range. If the Type 96 had had the range of the Zero, we might have kept using that even up to Pearl Harbor and beyond.
[The photo shows Sakai as a sergeant-pilot in China and is reproduced is from a telephone card given out as a favor at his memorial service.
On the key to a good fighter plane
By far the most important thing for a good fighter plane is its range. I can't tell you how much that affects you when you're in the cockpit. When you know you've got plenty of gas, it really lets you relax. Those poor Germans in their Me109s! They could barely get to altitude and fight for a couple of minutes before they had to start worrying about their fuel supply. When you are worried about your gas, it really affects what you do with your plane, even how you fight. Think of how many German fighters ended up at the bottom of the English Channel because they didn't have the gas to get home. A plane that doesn't have the gas to fly is just junk. If the Germans had had 1000 Zeros in 1940, I don't think England would still exist today. Think about it: With Zeros, they could have operated from airfields near Paris and still hit any target anywhere in the British Isles, or escorted bombers, and still have plenty of gas to get home. I once flew a Zero for 12 hours continuous once in an experiment to see just how far it could go. That plane's range was incredible. That's part of what made the Mustang great, too.
On the Zero's maneuverability
Oh yes, the Zero was incredibly maneuverable, but not over about 250 mph. Above that speed, the stick just gets too heavy because the plane's control surfaces are so huge. You've seen those films of kamikaze plunging straight down into the water far from any U.S. ships, right? The kids in those planes probably put their planes into a dive way too early, and before they realized their mistake, they had too much speed built up to pull out of their dive. They probably died pulling desperately on the stick with all their strength. When I coached those kids [kamikaze pilots], I'd tell them, "If you've gotta die, you at least want to hit your target, right? If so, then go in low, skimming the water. Don't dive on your target. You lose control in a dive. You risk getting picked off by a fighter, but you've got better chance of hitting your target."
On Kamikaze tactics and pilots
A lot of Westerners looked at the kamikaze strategy with complete shock, the idea of putting a kid in a plane and telling him to kill himself by crashing into the enemy. But even if you don't tell him to crash into something, putting a kid with only about 20 hours flight time into a plane and telling him to take on U.S. pilots in Hellcats and Corsairs is just as much a suicidal tactic as being a kamikaze. We figured that if they're going to die anyway, the kamikaze attack will probably cause more damage to the enemy for the same price in lives.
But let me tell you, all that stuff you read about "dying for the emperor...Banzai!" that's all crap. There wasn't one kamikaze pilot or soldier out there who was thinking anything about the emperor when they were facing death. They were thinking about their mother and their family, just like anybody else. The reason those final letters home that they wrote are so filled with emperor glorification stuff is because they knew the censors would read them, and because they simply wanted to try to make their parents proud.
On seeing the enemy
Great vision is absolutely essential for a fighter pilot. Finding your enemy even a half-second sooner than he finds you gives you a great advantage. I'd teach my pilots not to tighten their lap belts too tight, because it prevents you from swiveling your hips so that you can quickly look directly behind yourself. The field of view in the Zero was great. I don't know why those Grumman planes had those high backs that prevented pilots from seeing behind them. [Didn't losing the vision in one eye really hurt you in this respect?] Not really. By that time, I had learned to know where the enemy was going to appear from, based on conditions. I never had to sweep the sky, 360 degrees or anything to find them. You just gain a sense of where they're going to come from, and search that area most intensely. An instinct I guess. And you don't really need depth perception, because you can gauge distance by the apparent size of the enemy plane.
By Scott Hards
On Sunday, August 11th [1998], I had the unique pleasure of being invited to the Tokyo home of Mr. Saburo Sakai, the great Japanese WWII Zero ace. Over the course of three hours, he and I discussed a number of topics, almost all related to his exploits in the war, but to some broader issues as well. What follows are some of the more interesting things he had to say....
Sakai-san turns 80 this month, but is in excellent health, physically and mentally. He speaks very energetically, gesturing broadly all the time. He's the type of senior citizen that everybody hopes they can one day be.
I will point out that I did not take notes nor use a tape recorder during our conversation, and these "quotes" are paraphrased by myself to the best of my memory. Please do not repeat them or attribute them to Sakai-san in any published forum. The conversation was entirely in Japanese, and in my translations, I've attempted to choose language that best represents the atmosphere of how Sakai-san himself was saying it. The order is roughly the order that we discussed these topics in.....
On the Zero
During the war, I was convinced the Zero Model 21 was the best fighter plane anywhere. It was always number one with me. Then a few years ago, at Champlin, I had the chance to fly in a Mustang and take the controls for a while. What an incredible plane! It could do anything the Zero could, and many things the Zero can't, like a high-speed, spiraling dive. In the Zero, the stick would be too heavy to control the plane at those speeds. The Mustang's number one with me now, and I'm afraid the Zero's number two!
On the Type 96 Carrier Fighter "Claude"
That was the most incredible fighter of its day, by far. When the Zero was rolled out, we put two equal pilots in a Type 96 and a Zero and had them dogfight. The Type 96 won quite quickly. Then we had them switch planes. The Type 96 won again. Everybody thought the Zero was a failure at that point. But they liked the Zero's range. If the Type 96 had had the range of the Zero, we might have kept using that even up to Pearl Harbor and beyond.
[The photo shows Sakai as a sergeant-pilot in China and is reproduced is from a telephone card given out as a favor at his memorial service.
On the key to a good fighter plane
By far the most important thing for a good fighter plane is its range. I can't tell you how much that affects you when you're in the cockpit. When you know you've got plenty of gas, it really lets you relax. Those poor Germans in their Me109s! They could barely get to altitude and fight for a couple of minutes before they had to start worrying about their fuel supply. When you are worried about your gas, it really affects what you do with your plane, even how you fight. Think of how many German fighters ended up at the bottom of the English Channel because they didn't have the gas to get home. A plane that doesn't have the gas to fly is just junk. If the Germans had had 1000 Zeros in 1940, I don't think England would still exist today. Think about it: With Zeros, they could have operated from airfields near Paris and still hit any target anywhere in the British Isles, or escorted bombers, and still have plenty of gas to get home. I once flew a Zero for 12 hours continuous once in an experiment to see just how far it could go. That plane's range was incredible. That's part of what made the Mustang great, too.
On the Zero's maneuverability
Oh yes, the Zero was incredibly maneuverable, but not over about 250 mph. Above that speed, the stick just gets too heavy because the plane's control surfaces are so huge. You've seen those films of kamikaze plunging straight down into the water far from any U.S. ships, right? The kids in those planes probably put their planes into a dive way too early, and before they realized their mistake, they had too much speed built up to pull out of their dive. They probably died pulling desperately on the stick with all their strength. When I coached those kids [kamikaze pilots], I'd tell them, "If you've gotta die, you at least want to hit your target, right? If so, then go in low, skimming the water. Don't dive on your target. You lose control in a dive. You risk getting picked off by a fighter, but you've got better chance of hitting your target."
On Kamikaze tactics and pilots
A lot of Westerners looked at the kamikaze strategy with complete shock, the idea of putting a kid in a plane and telling him to kill himself by crashing into the enemy. But even if you don't tell him to crash into something, putting a kid with only about 20 hours flight time into a plane and telling him to take on U.S. pilots in Hellcats and Corsairs is just as much a suicidal tactic as being a kamikaze. We figured that if they're going to die anyway, the kamikaze attack will probably cause more damage to the enemy for the same price in lives.
But let me tell you, all that stuff you read about "dying for the emperor...Banzai!" that's all crap. There wasn't one kamikaze pilot or soldier out there who was thinking anything about the emperor when they were facing death. They were thinking about their mother and their family, just like anybody else. The reason those final letters home that they wrote are so filled with emperor glorification stuff is because they knew the censors would read them, and because they simply wanted to try to make their parents proud.
On seeing the enemy
Great vision is absolutely essential for a fighter pilot. Finding your enemy even a half-second sooner than he finds you gives you a great advantage. I'd teach my pilots not to tighten their lap belts too tight, because it prevents you from swiveling your hips so that you can quickly look directly behind yourself. The field of view in the Zero was great. I don't know why those Grumman planes had those high backs that prevented pilots from seeing behind them. [Didn't losing the vision in one eye really hurt you in this respect?] Not really. By that time, I had learned to know where the enemy was going to appear from, based on conditions. I never had to sweep the sky, 360 degrees or anything to find them. You just gain a sense of where they're going to come from, and search that area most intensely. An instinct I guess. And you don't really need depth perception, because you can gauge distance by the apparent size of the enemy plane.