“Yes,” said Colonel Konko. “That would be exactly right. Ko-oji was the brightest young sumo wrestler anyone in the profession had ever seen. He had the build and the technique. Even when he was in his teens he was beating fighters with many years more experience in regional competitions. His stable held him back from the national circuit because of his age. But in July ’40 the military government decided it was time to introduce new blood into the competition to build up pride in our youth and encourage the young men to fight for the homeland. Ko-oji was one of them. He was put on the program for a big basho in Tokyo. It was supposed to be a warm-up for the young men. Nothing too heroic was expected from them, just their willingness to take on the grand champions. Of course they’d lose.

“But Ko-oji won all of his preliminary bouts; won them easily. There was no luck involved. He beat the champion ozekis in seconds and inflicted a humiliating defeat on the yokozuna grand champion in the final bout. The sumo world was in shock. Never had a new fighter been so dominant. He was destined for greatness . . . immortality. But sumo is a ferociously political beast. The elders resented this upstart who’d swept through the rankings like a typhoon and shown the country the inadequacies of men considered national heroes. A true champion fought his way up the table, learning from his mistakes, honing his skill until he became the best. Crowds paid good money to watch their heroes, never completely certain of the results, never one hundred percent confident of a victory. They had, after all, followed their favorite fighters for many years through successes and failures. Who would give up their hard-earned salary to watch a tournament where there was no doubt of the victor? The whole business would collapse. But there was a role that he could fulfill that would provide a morale boost to the nation.

“It was decided that Ko-oji, after a battle with his conscience, would enlist in the great army of the empire and fight for glory, not in the dojo, but on the battlefield. And it was the same elders who pushed him into national service who decided it would be better for all concerned if Ko-oji were to fall heroically in battle: a great warrior dying for the emperor. We heard that assassins were dispatched to make sure the young wrestler never returned to Japan. But there were those in the military who had seen the young Ko-oji fight and they admired his ability. They gave him a new identity with false documents and sent him to a safe posting in the hope that he might return someday to claim the honor of which he had been deprived. And that was the last anyone ever heard of him, until now.”

My unit mates sat spellbound and stunned.

“Our Yatsusuki?” said Hokofugu.