The Butcher by Philip Carlo

brutality. Year after year it went on, fueled by the twisted interpretation of the samurai way of thinking. In 1937, Japan attacked China on a full scale—all-out war. Unchecked, unchallenged, now the Japanese conquered the whole of China, a huge country with an enormous population. The Japanese gleefully raped and stole and pilfered as they went. They were like a plague of locusts that left nothing alive in its wake. All was dead.
    The Japanese began to believe that they were— invincible. That they were above the laws of men. This, fused with the samurai belief system, made a very dangerous foe. They were without conscience, remorseless, took great pride in their brutality, in their indifference to life.
    When, on December 7, 1941, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, they did so truly believing that they could, surely would, beat America at war. Again, because of the samurai way of thinking, they believed that the Americans were soft, that they would not fight, that they would quickly give up and Japan would control North America. The Japanese obviously underestimated not only America’s resources but America’s willingness to fight. In reality, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, they awakened a “sleeping giant” they awakened afighting machine the likes of which the world had never known. As the two countries fought horrific battles all over the South Pacific, it became obvious that because of the samurai code, the Japanese would never give up, that they would fight to the death. An outgrowth of the samurai culture was the kamikazes—fighter pilots who gladly steered their planes into enemies’ ships. They were able to do devastating damage to Americans. The damage did not come about so much because of the bomb-laden planes the Japanese flew as because of the mind-set of the kamikaze pilots, who gleefully gave up their lives. Fighting an enemy only too happy to die was a difficult adversary. In Washington, it was decided that the only way to end the war would be to drop atomic bombs, for it was commonly believed, understood, that the Japanese would never give up unless they absolutely had to.
    The warlike mind-set, the obsession the Japanese had, would not allow them to give up. Thus, Americans dropped two atomic bombs, one on Nagasaki and one on Hiroshima, quite literally blowing the samurai belief system into oblivion. Faced with this overwhelming, devastating power, the Japanese finally surrendered—unconditionally.
    After World War II, a new way of thinking swept over Japan. The Japanese became a society of pacifists. They had no army; they wanted no army. They became a world power again not through military prowess but through financial genius. However, the samurai culture again reared its head. Now it was applied more toward business rather than war. For many Japanese, it was still something to be revered and proud of. The direction of this belief system now took a new path; it became more part of individuals’ and corporations’ mantra rather than an army’s. Martial arts schools opened and flourished across Japan. Japanese martial artists became world famous, held in high esteem and thought of as rock stars.
    It was into this modern take on the samurai culture, into this world, that Tommy Pitera entered when he landed in Japan. What drew Pitera to this place, to this mind-set and culture, was the steely, stoic, warlike approach to life the samurai not only lived but embraced with alltheir being. In a sense, the samurai warrior was a mirror reflection of old-school mafiosi—respect, honor, bravery were all intricately woven between these two Spartan, warrior-like mentalities. Pitera thought little about what the Japanese did to the Chinese in World War II. What drew him to Japan, what drew him to the samurai way of life, was the Japan of old, the Japan where men lived and died by the sword. He was here to study martial arts. He was here to make the world of the