in July 1991 a friend gave me a small paperback by Nagase called Crosses and Tigers, translated into English. In telling his wartime activities, Nagase described my torture. He said he shuddered every time he recalled it. He expressed his remorse and felt he had been forgiven.
Never, I thought. Patti was indignant. With my permission she wrote Nagase, telling how I had suffered. “How can you feel ‘forgiven,’ Mr. Nagase, if this particular prisoner of war has not yet forgiven you?”
More than a week later a tissue-thin envelope from Japan arrived. “Your letter has beaten me down,” Nagase wrote my wife, “reminding me of my dirty old days.” Patti had sent him a photo of me and Nagase observed, “He looks a healthy and tender gentleman, though I am not able to see the inside of his mind. Please tell him to live long until I can see him.”
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