They Couldn’t Bury the War Hero, Because He Wasn’t White
August 27, 1944: Staff Sergeant Kazuo Masuda of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team was killed by enemy fire near the Arno River in Italy. He was only 25.
Masuda’s heroism was unquestionable. In early July, during fierce fighting near the town of Pastina, Italy, his observation post came under relentless German attack. Crawling 200 yards under fire, he secured a mortar tube and twenty rounds of ammunition. Using his dirt-filled helmet as a base, he fought back for twelve straight hours — turning back two German counteroffensives and inflicting heavy casualties. Later, near Arno, he stayed behind to cover his men’s retreat, sacrificing himself so they could live.
Kazuo was a war hero — a proud member of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team. But when his body was returned home to California, his family was told he couldn’t be buried in the local cemetery. The reason? He wasn’t Caucasian.
The insult sparked outrage. For a family who had already endured injustice — Kazuo’s parents and siblings had been incarcerated at Jerome War Relocation Center during the war — this was another painful reminder of how deep prejudice ran in America.
After the war, the hostility persisted. For example, when Kazuo’s sister, Mary, returned home, she was approached by a group of five men who threatened her with “bodily harm” unless she moved out of the country. Even after the Masudas had sent four sons to fight for America, including one who gave his life, they were still “the enemy.”
The U.S. Army, pressured by the national attention, held a public medal ceremony for the Masuda family in December 1944. A young Army captain named Ronald Reagan gave a speech that day:
“Blood that has soaked into the sands of a beach is all of one color. America stands unique in the world, the only country not founded on race, but on a way — an ideal.”
After media pressure, Sgt. Masuda was finally allowed to be buried in Westminster Memorial Park in Orange County.
Decades later, President Ronald Reagan would sign the Civil Liberties Act of 1988, granting an apology and reparations to Japanese Americans who had been unjustly incarcerated. In his signing remarks, he recalled the Masuda story:
“The name of that young actor — I hope I pronounce this right — was Ronald Reagan.”
By invoking his own role in honoring Masuda decades earlier, Reagan underscored how the injustice against Japanese Americans could not be ignored forever.
The use of Kazuo Masuda’s story, as scholars Harry Kitano and S. Megan Berthold observed, accomplished a great deal. It humanized the injustice, showing that even a decorated war hero could be denied dignity at home — and it helped build the moral momentum that led to redress.
Kazuo Masuda’s life is valuable not only for his battlefield bravery, but also for the way his memory helped reshape America’s conscience. So that America can stand truly unique in the world as the only country founded on — an ideal.