Legends of the Martial Arts Masters by Susan Lynn Peterson Page A
Authors: Susan Lynn Peterson
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fierceness and perfect concentration.
The guards hated Yamaguchi. Maintaining order in a labor camp where the prisoners outnumbered the guards twenty to one was not easy. It involved the efficient use of force and terror. A frightened prisoner was easy to handle. And Yamaguchi seemed never to be frightened. That is why one day the commander of the prison camp gave the order, “Break him.”
The guards knew their job well. They had broken many other prisoners before. They began by depriving Yamaguchi of his sleep. Every ten minutes all night long they would walk by his cell and wake him up. But each day, Yamaguchi would work like a man fully rested. And each evening he would return to his cell and do kata.
It’s the kata, the guards decided. If they could deprive him of his evening exercise, they would be able to break him. So they put him in the solitary confinement box. The box was small, barely tall enough for Yamaguchi to sit upright, too short to lie down, and so narrow that when he sat cross-legged his knees touched both sides. The guards handed in brown bread and water twice a day, but mostly they just let Yamaguchi sit.
In the box Yamaguchi sat quietly. He closed his eyes, stilled his breathing, watched it come into his body through his nose and leave his body through his mouth. He emptied his mind of thought, of pain, of anxiety and emotion. For hours each day he sat and meditated. When he wasn’t meditating, he would sleep. Or he would do breathing and energy exercises. At all hours of the day and night, the guards would hear Yamaguchi’s powerful “hhwoooh” filling the compound.
After several weeks, they let him out. Two guards stood ready to carry him back to his cell. Prisoners who had been in the box were always too stiff and weak to walk. But when they opened the door of the box, Yamaguchi crawled out under his own power, stood, bowed to the guards, and walked back to his cell. His color was good. And except for a little stiffness in his walk, he looked strong.
“He’s a strong man,” the guards said to each other. “But even a strong man can be broken.”That night they draggedYamaguchi from his cell and beat him. Though any normal man would have broken at their hands, Yamaguchi didn’t even cry out in pain. His face was still, like the surface of a calm lake. His breathing was deep and regular. The look in his eyes was far away. When the guards finished, they had to bring him out of some kind of trancelike state to get him to walk back to his cell.
The beating went on for days. But each time, Yamaguchi would retreat inside himself, leaving the blows to fall on a hollow shell. Finally, the guards decided the beatings were not working. Sleep deprivation hadn’t worked. The solitary box hadn’t worked. The man was a warrior like they had never seen before. Perhaps they would be able to use that fact.
Several days after the beatings stopped, a truck rolled into the labor camp. On it was a large cage. In the cage was a tiger. A dozen guards unloaded the cage from the truck and placed it in the center of the compound.
The commander came out of his office to inspect the beast. The tiger was huge, full grown, not young, but certainly not too old to dispose of a puny human being. The commandant ordered that the tiger not be given anything to eat for the next three days. After that, the whole camp would watch as Yamaguchi became the tiger’s breakfast.
The tiger paced his cage, clearly in a bad mood. The prisoners stood in tight lines along one side of the compound. The guards brought Yamaguchi out of his cell.
“Strip him,” the commander ordered. The guards removed all Yamaguchi’s clothes.
It was the perfect plan. If Yamaguchi wanted to avoid the pain of being ripped to shreds, he would have to enter a trance. But if he entered a trance, he wouldn’t be facing death like a warrior. Either way, the other prisoners would see that any man, even a man likeYamaguchi, could be
The guards hated Yamaguchi. Maintaining order in a labor camp where the prisoners outnumbered the guards twenty to one was not easy. It involved the efficient use of force and terror. A frightened prisoner was easy to handle. And Yamaguchi seemed never to be frightened. That is why one day the commander of the prison camp gave the order, “Break him.”
The guards knew their job well. They had broken many other prisoners before. They began by depriving Yamaguchi of his sleep. Every ten minutes all night long they would walk by his cell and wake him up. But each day, Yamaguchi would work like a man fully rested. And each evening he would return to his cell and do kata.
It’s the kata, the guards decided. If they could deprive him of his evening exercise, they would be able to break him. So they put him in the solitary confinement box. The box was small, barely tall enough for Yamaguchi to sit upright, too short to lie down, and so narrow that when he sat cross-legged his knees touched both sides. The guards handed in brown bread and water twice a day, but mostly they just let Yamaguchi sit.
In the box Yamaguchi sat quietly. He closed his eyes, stilled his breathing, watched it come into his body through his nose and leave his body through his mouth. He emptied his mind of thought, of pain, of anxiety and emotion. For hours each day he sat and meditated. When he wasn’t meditating, he would sleep. Or he would do breathing and energy exercises. At all hours of the day and night, the guards would hear Yamaguchi’s powerful “hhwoooh” filling the compound.
After several weeks, they let him out. Two guards stood ready to carry him back to his cell. Prisoners who had been in the box were always too stiff and weak to walk. But when they opened the door of the box, Yamaguchi crawled out under his own power, stood, bowed to the guards, and walked back to his cell. His color was good. And except for a little stiffness in his walk, he looked strong.
“He’s a strong man,” the guards said to each other. “But even a strong man can be broken.”That night they draggedYamaguchi from his cell and beat him. Though any normal man would have broken at their hands, Yamaguchi didn’t even cry out in pain. His face was still, like the surface of a calm lake. His breathing was deep and regular. The look in his eyes was far away. When the guards finished, they had to bring him out of some kind of trancelike state to get him to walk back to his cell.
The beating went on for days. But each time, Yamaguchi would retreat inside himself, leaving the blows to fall on a hollow shell. Finally, the guards decided the beatings were not working. Sleep deprivation hadn’t worked. The solitary box hadn’t worked. The man was a warrior like they had never seen before. Perhaps they would be able to use that fact.
Several days after the beatings stopped, a truck rolled into the labor camp. On it was a large cage. In the cage was a tiger. A dozen guards unloaded the cage from the truck and placed it in the center of the compound.
The commander came out of his office to inspect the beast. The tiger was huge, full grown, not young, but certainly not too old to dispose of a puny human being. The commandant ordered that the tiger not be given anything to eat for the next three days. After that, the whole camp would watch as Yamaguchi became the tiger’s breakfast.
The tiger paced his cage, clearly in a bad mood. The prisoners stood in tight lines along one side of the compound. The guards brought Yamaguchi out of his cell.
“Strip him,” the commander ordered. The guards removed all Yamaguchi’s clothes.
It was the perfect plan. If Yamaguchi wanted to avoid the pain of being ripped to shreds, he would have to enter a trance. But if he entered a trance, he wouldn’t be facing death like a warrior. Either way, the other prisoners would see that any man, even a man likeYamaguchi, could be
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