Name: Tanaka Ishimaki
Age: 25
Appearance:
Nation: Empire of Fuso
Rank: First Lieutenant
Position: Commander of 1st Platoon, 1st Rifle Company, 2nd Battalion, 156th Infantry Regiment, 28th Infantry Division
Weaponry:- Nambu Type 100 Submachine Gun
- Type 30 Bayonet
- Nambu Type 14 Pistol
- Katana
- Type 97 Fragmentation Grenades
Equipment:- Standard Khaki Battledress
- Helmet
- Battlefield Backpack
- Field Glasses/Binoculars
- Entrenching Tool
Personality:“The Neuroi shelled us throughout the night. The only reason, perhaps, why we got any sleep that night was because our bodies simply had no energy left in them. We woke up with our hole covered with the leaves of a fallen coconut tree, and I stepped out to inspect the damage: craters that had been dug out by Neuroi plasma orbs had become pools from the rain that accompanied us during the shelling, and there were cries for help and the medic all around. As I went about with helping the wounded, I saw the effects of a direct hit: a mess of severed limbs and drying blood from three men dismembered. As I contemplated this gruesome sight with a few others, I wasn’t particularly shaken it. I was, however, by the fact that I felt next to nothing about it. Like it was a fact of life.”
“I wonder how much I’ve changed.”-Written in Shingabra (Singapore?), Malaya; dated 02/10/42 in Tanaka’s first diary.
Tanaka Ishimaki, veteran of Davao, Singapore, and Port Moresby, has lost some color in his rosy cheeks compared to when he was still a boy fumbling around officer school. His eyes, once bright, are now rather dulled, and carry a steely, unwavering gaze as he surveys the battlefield. Calloused hands fight the instinct to survive as they tightly grip his katana in desperate close-quarter assaults, leading his men from the forefront and always from the forefront. Baptised and judged by fire on the shores and in the jungles and cities of distant, alien lands, Tanaka is a veteran through and through. Nihilism and fatalism have accordingly been introduced into his philosophies, and sometimes he ponders about the pointlessness of life, just how hard it is to create and nurture one and yet how easy it is to destroy. But he shrugs such thoughts off. There is no point in being bitter.
But there are many things that not even combat can dent all that much, and amongst these is Tanaka’s jovial attitude. Circumstances permitting, he will probably make a joke, and loves to tell a tale, particularly about his hardships as a Fusoan studying in the strange land of Liberion. The culture shock he experienced, particularly with regards to women, was immense, and when a pretty blonde girl took the initiative so boldly and began chatting him up, he was surprised, disgusted, yet intrigued and interested. Stumbling through and around Liberion cultural and societal norms was truly a time of trial.
He has also remained quite a romantic. Still does he send and receive letters from Michiko, whom he wants to think as a sort of childhood sweetheart. A prolific writer, he also likes to keep a diary around and fill it in at the end of the day. He’s exhausted two thick notebooks thus far: his own personal history textbook about the Pacific Theatre.
Tanaka has always been friendly. Nowadays, perhaps a bit less so, but he is always ready to smile and talk. Over the fire, in the thicket of jungle, and surrounded by his comrades? Overly much so! This simple personality trait has augmented his command skills in that he takes time to get to know the men under his command, building friendships and trust amongst the unit. But as the months go by, it's becoming significantly harder to do so: why even talk to the new recruits when they’ll just die in two weeks?
History, Long Version:“The fathers weep as they bury their sons. The mothers look lost and confused. The children can’t seem to comprehend the concept of death. This is why we fight those monsters. How dare they do this?”-Written in Davao, Philippines; dated 12/07/41 in Tanaka’s first diary.
Born to Hanako and Sadao of the disgraced Ishimaki samurai clan on the 2nd of January, 1919, Tanaka’s childhood was that of poverty and general roughness. His family owned but a humble farm that grew rice, and his father died of cancer when he was only 6. He was the only boy and the eldest of four siblings, and so he had to help his mother take care of his sisters and the farm, while simultaneously going to elementary school. He was thin, almost anorexically so, as the food on the table was simple and rather scarce. There were times when the only dish available was rice cooked in locally-produced vegetable oil, and his malnutrition showed by the way of dry skin flecking his back.
When time came for Tanaka to start his highschool education, there were none in his home village of Hanemura. Thankfully, an uncle had contacted and convinced a friend to take Tanaka into his household and help pay for his education in Aomori City. There, he met Michiko, a humble girl around his age who became his best friend right up until he graduated highschool with high marks thanks to the work ethic brought about by hard labor around the farm. Still clutching his diploma with pride, he wanted to study Medicine, but, unfortunately, college was quite expensive and his guardian was having a tough time financially in the local economical environment of 1935 Fuso. At age 16, Tanaka wasn’t keen to work immediately, and with higher civil education out of reach, he decided to enlist in the prestigious Imperial Fuso Army. With his heart brimming with love for his nation, he was very much eager to serve.
He wanted to become an officer like in the posters: leading the charge, katana in hand, against those who would resist the Land of the Rising Sun’s rightful international claims in the name of enlightenment and Imperial mercy, and if it ever happened again, against the dreadful Neuroi. Although looked down upon by one of the teachers for being a farm boy, he passed the entrance exam easily and, when the letter came that he was accepted, started his education for death at the Imperial Fuso Army Academy in Tokyo. His work ethic once again shone as he was consistently in the top 10 of the class, whether the subject was English, natural sciences, or traditional martial arts. Having completed the first two years of academic study and war training at Asaka, Saitama, Tanaka was sent to Manchukuo and attached to the 94th Infantry Regiment for eight months to become familiar with platoon-level leadership and weaponry, following the curriculum.
With his class supervised by Captain Takeo Jouzou, he was excited to be out of the country. The land of Manchuria was vastly different from Fuso, with vast, rolling steppes instead of mountains, forests and cities -- at least where he was stationed. As was consistent with his education thus far, he excelled and was commended greatly along with some of his peers in letters written by the Captain to the dean of the IFA Academy in Tokyo. During his time training overseas, Tanaka exchanged letters with Michiko on a frequent and regular basis, with some of them having a subtle tone of longing which the young officer-in-training both hoped and hoped not for Michiko to notice. Having familiarized himself with weapons such as the 50mm Knee Mortar and the Type 99 LMG and recommended by his supervisor for promotion, Tanaka advanced and resumed academic studies at the senior program in Sagamihara, Kanagawa.
The senior program included horsemanship and swordsmanship: two things which the young cadet gladly wanted to try and master. He was only decent in the former but exemplary in the latter, and was often picked by his supervisor to be the sparring partner for students who wanted to prove themselves (especially those who were on the verge of failing). Part of him still questions if he is the reason why half of his class failed the subject. But oh well -- the past is past.
His senior education lasted for one year and eight months and he graduated it with the rank of Sergeant Major, but was treated like a commissioned officer by the enlisted, as was the norm. Afterwards, he spent four months in the 88th Infantry Regiment in Kobe under a probation period. Energetically leading his platoon in minor war games and exercises, Tanaka once again was commended and praised, and was formally commissioned on January 14, 1939, given the rank of Second Lieutenant, and his very own katana.
Granted, it wasn’t master-crafted like the ones given to graduating Colonels at the Tokyo War College, constructed in but mere minutes in some random factory with only stamped steel, but he cherished it greatly nevertheless. Tears welled up in his eyes as Brigadier-General Shinzo Mutou handed it to him at the podium at the Academy. The lieutenant still considers it one of the happiest moments in his life.
He was given a week off to celebrate. He used this time to share with his mother part of that month’s salary and visit his sisters. Of course, he also visited Michiko, not having seen her for well over four years. Michiko by 1939 was a beautiful young woman with long, silken hair of smoothly glistening black and a smile that, though small, betrayed the greatest of happiness and affection. She was working as a clothier, helping her mother’s store, when Tanaka happened upon her house. The young lieutenant was very pleased that he had impressed his former foster family, his crush included, and he offered to share some of his money with Michiko’s father, but the man respectfully declined.
As Fuso was mustering up new divisions and other combat units in response to the 1937 Fuso Sea Incident, Tanaka was assigned to the new 122nd Infantry Regiment, to a platoon of patriotic young men. He lead his band of 32 across the obstacles he himself struggled against: 20-mile-long marches every day, harsh disciplinary action by senior officers (and sometimes by himself upon his charges), marksmanship and weapons training. He served for two months till a Major who had taken a great liking to Tanaka recommended him for tutelage overseas on the latter’s personal request. Though quite unhappy with leaving his newfound friends and comrades, he saw studying Medicine in the United States of Liberion as something that would advance himself in life. Practicing his rough English with a small pocket mirror whenever he had the chance and after having bought a dictionary and a phrasebook, he left for the Land of the Free with a civilian medical student, the Major’s son named Makoto, at early April.
Heald University and San Francisco was certainly different to their equivalents in Fuso. The people were more active and energetic, drank rather heavily and had no shame when they walked down the street wobbling and swaying. The women actually smoked and whistled, and invited the exotic, just-arrived Orientals with winks and other gestures which Tanaka wasn’t sure was either mockery or genuine interest. One thing that came as a surprise to the two Fusoans was the practice of group discussion in the University. Fusoan education relied primarily on rote memorization, and this strange act which probably promoted dissent (as social and political issues were constantly debated) was a mixed blessing. On one hand, Tanaka found liberty in being able to share ideas with not only his classmates, but also with his professors. On the other hand, many of the Americans questioned Fuso’s imperialistic and jingoistic foreign policy, which he would take offense to early on, but would agree later that it could use a bit of toning down, after having been exposed and absorbed a bit of Liberion isolationism.
Tanaka and Makoto could not enjoy the United States for very long, not even being given the chance to complete their education. At the explicit command of the Major, they were withdrawn from the States two years and seven months into their stay, on November 4, 1941. Understandably, Makoto was outraged, while Tanaka was simply grateful that the man had funded his education, when he wasn’t even related to him. Upon his return to Fuso, the young Lieutenant, 22 years of age, was reassigned to the 156th Infantry Regiment, to command 2nd Battalion’s 1st Company’s 1st Platoon to replace its former leader after he died in an unfortunate accident.
On December 2, 1941, the 28th Infantry Division of which Tanaka’s regiment was a part of, was redeployed to the island of Mindanao in the Philippine archipelago in response to a new Neuroi Hive that had landed and planted itself firmly in the central Visayan islands. There was a quick refresher period of mild training exercises before Tanaka and his unit were assigned as garrisons in the city. Though most of the fighting in the Philippine theatre at the time belonged to the island of Luzon, the fresh-faced second lieutenant with the stereotypical map and compass tasted real fire for the first time as the city of Davao was subject to attack. At the outskirts, brushing into the jungle, Tanaka’s position was probed by small detachments of alien scouts, which were quickly driven away. Reports were hurried over to higher command and Tanaka found his company with the privilege of having tanks. By the next day, at 6:12 in the morning, the Neuroi came in force.
It was a company-sized host with little walker support. Neuroi infantry bots partitioned much of the composition of the foe. Their opponents cold, unfeeling and utterly incomprehensible, the first attacks of the morning stopped only when Tanaka’s company had eliminated the entire enemy force to the last man. Having no concept of surrender and even when their unit was shattered, a few surviving bots, before their discovery and execution, hid amongst the dense foliage of the Philippine jungle and eliminated 5 of Tanaka’s men, supplementing the other 7 who had either been maimed or lost their lives to accurate laser fire. With the attrition rate of the morning being 37.5%, Tanaka wasn’t entirely hopeful.
With his command being at the forefront and suffering withering Neuroi attacks by noon, Tanaka’s 1st Company was relieved by the 3rd. Withdrawing to the city proper, Tanaka witnessed for the first time overstuffed hospitals both field and proper and their overworked staff. Bloodstained drapes vaguely described the shallowly-breathing figures that they covered, and there were some that didn’t breathe at all. And although he did not panic in combat, as he went for an afternoon stroll, following a dirt road that lead to a nearby barangay (village), something hit his chest as he saw a depressed family burying their deceased Militiaman son.
The Battle of Davao came to a close on the twenty-first of December rather abruptly as the Hive was shattered over the skies of Manila, but almost immediately was the 28th Infantry Division sent to Singapore to assist Britannia in the second siege of Singapore, Prime Minister Tojo conceding to Churchill’s request. Aided by a multinational witch unit, the Shimada Corps, it was through a rough grind that the Gibraltar of the East was finally recaptured. Tanaka, however, did not war too often as his unit was put in reserve for most of battle.
Few noteworthy things came to pass in the following months as he was garrisoned in Singapore till the appearance of the aberration that was the New Guinean Hive. Days were spent mostly idling by, sometimes doing exercises with the troops, and he would write and receive letters to and from sweet, sweet Michiko over the din of the city’s reconstruction. Shipped out on October 15, 1942, in the Fubuki-class destroyer
Hatsuyuki, amongst the rest of Admiral Takeo Kurita’s mighty Central Force Fleet, Tanaka made landfall as one of the first and foremost troops in the amphibious operation to retake Port Moresby. Tanaka particularly distinguished himself as he restored the morale of the broken 2nd platoon, who had lost their senior officers, taking temporary command of it. He then lead his larger unit in a daring banzai charge across the beach, screened by smoke grenades lobbed by 4th platoon’s mortars. Taking out two heavy laser emplacements in quick succession and covering much ground in such a short amount of time, it was through his effort that Battle Area Three was so swiftly secured.
Lady Luck, however, had decided that he had achieved too much for one day. In the afternoon, whilst once again on the forefront in the brutal grind of urban warfare just after the beaches, Tanaka was wounded in the stomach area as he and his command squad were sprinting across a particularly dangerous street. He pretended to be dead, and his comrades used a smoke screen to get him out of there. Ferried back by lend-lease Higgins transport to a hospital ship, he was, a few weeks later, awarded the Golden Kite, 3rd Class, and promoted to First Lieutenant personally by Colonel Gendo Shimakawa, his battalion’s commanding officer. It was also at this point that he finished his first diary.
Yet the city was secured rather quickly and its infrastructure quickly restored by Navy construction personnel. Tanaka was transferred to a proper hospital there, much to his dismay, as he had hoped to return to Fuso for treatment (maybe Michiko could visit him). But complications with his wound delayed his recovery and a subsequent attack by malaria helped him none, and so he was forced to stay bedridden for a full three months, missing out on the rest of the New Guinean Campaign.
Released back into the wild, Tanaka returned to his unit with welcome arms. With Australia keeping a proper garrison in Port Moresby, the 28th Infantry Division was deemed a veteran unit and pulled back to Fuso in April 7, 1943 to retrain and refresh personnel in its transformation from a Light Infantry Division to a Heavy Infantry Division: a new concept by the the top brass as they continued to explore the doctrine of fire superiority. Given a two week liberty upon arrival, the men of the 28th went to see friends and family, and Tanaka was no exception. Though it shook him to see that Michiko was already married to another man, he resigned himself to the fact that no-one may have all that he wants.
Retraining of personnel in crack training conditions took five months, and when nominated for the position, Tanaka refused taking command of the 1st Company, passing the offer over to Toyota, CO of 2nd platoon and also a good candidate, who accepted. The reason for his refusal was primarily his doubts regarding his capability of leadership for a larger-sized unit.
On October 28th, 1943, the 28th Infantry Division was yet again relocated, detached from Imperial General Headquarters and assigned to the Ming Theatre of Operations. Joint wargame exercises were conducted with Orussian troops from time to time as the uneventful front towards the Vladivostok Hive slowly awake, and troops trickled in from both sides to gather at the grim demarcation that was the beginning of no-man’s land.
As Zeroes and Sturmoviks flew overhead in fitness tests the next year, Tanaka paused writing in the last page of his second diary and pondered his front-row seat to witness the bloody spectacle that was to be the Vladivostok Campaign.
History, Short Version:Tanaka was born to two disgraced samurai farmers on January 2, 1919. After experiencing a rough childhood, he immediately enrolled for officer school upon completing his secondary education. Assigned to various units as he burned through his martial studies, Tanaka academically distinguished himself before his first combat mission as a platoon officer in Davao, Philippines. He would then go on to fight in Singapore, distinguish himself in combat in New Guinea, get wounded, and return to Fuso along with his Division for force reorganization. Now stationed in Manchuria with his unit in maximum levels of preparedness, Tanaka but waits for the go signal to begin the Vladivostok Campaign.
Awards and Badges:
- NCO’s Badge, 1st Class: Awarded 09/14/1936 for graduating to NCO rank in the top 5 of his class.
- Order of the Golden Kite, 3rd Class: Awarded 12/22/1942 for courageous and inspiring leadership in New Guinea during the Battle of Buna-Gona.
- Sharpshooter’s Badge, 2nd Class: Awarded 03/17/1936 for scoring 200 points total at the shooting range in basic training.
- Swordsmanship Badge, 1st Class: Awarded 09/14/1936 for completing all traditional martial arts courses in the top 5 of his class.
- Type 2 Senshou Wound Badge: Awarded 12/22/1942 for being wounded by a small-arms laser beam in the abdomen in New Guinea during the Battle of Buna-Gona.
- Type 2 Koushou Wound Badge: Awarded 02/14/1942 for contracting malaria whilst recovering in St. John’s Hospital in Port Moresby, New Guinea
