Another Battle for the Wolf – A Not So Gracious Guest

July 1877

It's hot in here and I can't wait to get out of this place. Taking a drag on my cigarette does nothing to improve my mood, as I stare out a window near my bedside here in the infirmary at Dainichi Temple, where for a few days I'm currently a prisoner or a guest, depending on how I choose to look at it. My confinement is by order of our commander, so there is little I can do about it besides grumble and growl.

At least they gave me a bed with a view, so I don't feel so trapped. However, it looks out onto a very serene garden, a sight more fitting for someone like my wife to see. Speaking of my wife, I'm sure if she knew what happened she would come down here and take care of me herself. In her opinion I don't take good enough care of myself when I'm away from home. I can't imagine how she gets ideas like that.

The wound under the tightly wrapped cotton bandage itches. What I wouldn't give for a chopstick right now so I could poke under the cloth and relieve that irritating sensation. My men and I had crossed Fukuhara Pass, reaching Yakio. We defeated the enemy there, managing to capture two cannon along the way. We continued our gun fight as we moved toward Mt. Takayuka, hoping to assist the troops already fighting there. That's when it happened; that's when I was hit. I should have been able to dodge that bullet. I must be getting old, hence the slow reflexes. My injury caused us to move back to Yakio temporarily before they managed to drag me here, and resumed the fight without me.

Good thing I was hit in the leg. I don't think Tokio would forgive me, if it had killed me. I smirk to myself. No, she wouldn't have liked that at all. My promise to her has always been that I'll come back home, and I'm not about to break it. What Tokio doesn't know won't hurt her, and this is something that she doesn't need to know until I am fully healed and back on the battlefield, maybe not even then, now that I think about it. I'm sure her imagination can conjure up all sorts of gruesome things that could happen to me during this skirmish, and I have no desire to fuel her fantasies with a good dose of reality.

A scowl crosses my face. That moronic brother of hers, Morinusuke, is also part of this campaign, although he's not in my unit. He's serving with the contingent from Aizu. No doubt there are some big mouths around that know that he is my brother-in-law, and can't wait to wag their tongues to tell him what happened to me. It would be just my luck to have him write to Tokio to tell her what happened. If he does that, there will be hell to pay. Since I survived, there is no need to tell her; she'll just worry that it will happen again, because this fight is far from over.

I muse a bit about the differences between the Seinan and Boshin Wars, only nine short years apart. These days we use all manner of modern weaponry. There were firearms during the battles years ago, but they weren't as advanced as they are today, and there was a greater chance of being cut down by a katana than being disabled by a bullet, especially during the Battle of Aizu. Anyway, a katana is a much more civilized and honorable instrument than a rifle or side arm. There isn't as much collateral damage.

My mood darkens again. Oba, that guy reporting for the Tokyo Nichinichi, was tagging along with us the day it happened. If he sends anything about those particular battles back to the paper, he'd better not mention my name. My wife is a regular reader of that rag, and I sure as hell don't want her reading about my mishap in the paper.

Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath as I hear footsteps approaching. I've promised myself to try to be as polite as possible to the nursing staff. The last thing I want is for them to make me stay here longer than necessary as retribution for my not so gracious attitude. It's a wonder that any of them are still brave enough to approach me. Glancing up, I see they sent a newbie, since I don't recognize him. Smart move on their part. Giving a sigh of resignation, I snuff the remainder of my cigarette in the ashtray I'm holding in my lap, and wait for the moron to tell me what he wants. All I want is to get out of here, and as soon as possible won't be soon enough.

Author's Notes:

According to the timeline posted on the hajimenokizu dot com website, Fujita Goro served as a semi-captain with the second police platoon during the Seinen War. He received a gunshot wound on July 12, 1877. Tokio's brother, Takagi Morinusuke also fought in the Seinan War.

One of my sources was an on-line translation of an article from the Tokyo Nichinichi Newspaper by the reporter, Oba, chronicling the activities of the Bungo unit during their campaigns in July 1877. He actually mentions in his article that Fujita Goro suffered a gunshot wound.

I also used the website shinsengumi-no-makoto dot net backslash saito underscore hajime dot htm as a source of information.