Nobody knew which side he was on. But he did.
April 22, 1941: Arthur Komori was deployed to the Philippines as an American spy.
In the spring of 1941, Arthur Satoshi Komori, a young Nisei (second-generation Japanese American) from Hawai‘i, was secretly enlisted by the U.S. Army and sent to the Philippines, months before the attack on Pearl Harbor. His mission: spy on Japan.
Komori was among the earliest recruits in what would become the Military Intelligence Service (MIS), a top-secret program that trained bilingual Nisei to translate documents, interrogate prisoners, and gather intelligence in the Pacific.
His knowledge of the Japanese language and culture made him an ideal candidate. But his face made him a target.
Arthur Komori was recruited to pose as a Japanese sailor who jumped the ship in the Philippines to avoid the draft
Courtesy of Ted Yenari
Graduating class of the Military Intelligence Service Language School (MISLS), Fall 1944. Their work is widely credited with helping shorten the war in the Pacific.
Richard M. Sakakida later retired as a U.S. Army lieutenant colonel, ending a career that began with one of the most extraordinary undercover missions.
American and Filipino troops surrendering to the Japanese
Two Spies from Hawai’i
Komori was deployed alongside fellow Nisei recruit Richard Sakakida. Both posed as civilians in Manila, gathering intelligence on Japanese ship movements in the tense months before war.
They lived with constant risk. If captured by the Japanese, they would be executed as traitors. If misidentified by Americans, they could be treated as the enemy.
Then came December 7, 1941.
Japan attacked Pearl Harbor and invaded the Philippines. Komori’s work was now deep behind enemy lines.
He was eventually captured by Japanese forces. Even after his release, he faced suspicion from American troops who could not look past his face.
Allegiance
But Komori stayed with the U.S. Army.
He interrogated captured soldiers. He analyzed documents recovered from the battlefield. He continued to serve a country that questioned his loyalty.
In Hawai‘i where Komori was from, Japanese Americans lived under martial law. On the mainland, more than 120,000 — two-thirds of them U.S. citizens — were forcibly removed from their homes and incarcerated.
The accusation was always the same: potential espionage.
Arthur Komori routinely went across the front lines to collect documents from dead bodies and to capture prisoners for interrogations.
Courtesy of U.S. National Archives and Records Administration
Barbed wire lined the beach in front of the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in Waikīkī. The hotel was taken over by the U.S. Navy and restricted to military personnel under martial law.
Courtesy of the Library of Congress
More than 120,000 Japanese Americans — most of them U.S. citizens — were forcibly removed from their homes and incarcerated on the mainland during World War II.
A 1942 cartoon by Dr. Seuss depicting Japanese Americans as potential spies, reflecting the fear and racism used to justify incarceration.
Arthur Komori being sworn into the U.S. Army’s Corps of Intelligence Police, March 13, 1941, Honolulu, before a war that would question his loyalty.
He Knew Which Side He Was On
But in the end, the only Japanese American spies during the war were not working for Japan. They were working for the United States.
As Komori later wrote: “They said we looked like the enemy. But I knew which side I was on.”
He continued to serve in U.S. intelligence in Australia and later in Japan, eventually rising to the rank of Chief Warrant Officer.
After the war, he became an attorney and served as a District Court judge. Komori was awarded the Bronze Star Medal in 1945 and was inducted into the Military Intelligence Hall of Fame in 1988.
My uncle was Richard Sakakida. My other uncle Wayne Kiyosaki wrote his biography. My uncle Dick was labeled a spy by some, but his heroic acts prove that he was far from one.
Richard Sakakida’s story is extraordinary. We would love to learn more about your family’s perspective if you’re ever open to sharing.