That Damned Fence: Relocation Camp Life
Through the Eyes of Japanese Alien and Japanese-American Poets
By Christine Woll
For FYS 234 The U. S. Relocation Camps in World War II
On February 19, 1942, Franklin
Delano Roosevelt issued the infamous Executive Order 9066, which resulted
in the internment of 110,000 Japanese Aliens and Japanese Americans in
concentration camps because of the so-called "military threat,"
they posed. In 1945, poet Lawson Fusao Inada wrote the following poem,
titled "Concentration Constellation," which refers to the various
relocation camps that were used to contain these people:
In this earthly configuration,
We have, not points of light,
but prominent barbs of dark
Begin between the Golden State's
highest and lowest elevations
and name that location
Manzanar. Rattlesnake a line
southward to the zone
of Arizona, to the home
if natives on the reservation,
and call those Gila, Poston.
Then just take your time
winding your way across
just make yourself at home
in the swamps of Arkansas.
for this is Rohwer and Jerome.
But now, you weary of the way.
It's a big country, you say.
It's a big history, hardly
halfway through - with Amache
looming in the Colorado desert,
Heart Mountain high in wide
Wyoming, Minidoka on the moon
of Idaho, then down to Utah's
jewel of Topaz before finding
yourself at northern California's
frozen shore of Tule Lake
Now regard what sort of shape
this constellation takes.
It sits there like a jagged scar,
massive, on the massive landscape.
It lies there like the rusted wire
of a twisted and remembered fence.
As Inada points out with his analogy to a constellation, the United States
government had constructed many camps and scattered them all over the
country. In other words, the internment of Japanese-Americans was not
merely a blip in American history; it was instead a catastrophic and appalling
forced removal of 110,000 people from their homes. In order to prevent
history from repeating itself, it is important that study is done on the
subject. As Inada illustrates, government documents and written accounts
are not the only way to study the issues surrounding the internment; poetry,
being a traditional and cherished practice brought over from Japan and
continued in the United States, serves to give a unique and informative
perspective into the lives of the Japanese internees. Not only does the
poetry written by Japanese aliens and American citizens of Japanese descent
describe the living conditions in the relocation camps they were imprisoned
in, but it also demonstrates the array of emotions these people felt,
including the hope of one day being free, the anger at being imprisoned,
and, most prominently, the sadness from being away from home and loved
Why was writing poetry so popular in the internment camps? Jori and Kay
Nakano relate that short poems "were ideal forms for the internees'
expression of their pent-up emotion," because of the scarcity of
writing paper. The Nakanos also point out that short poems were a Japanese
tradition of expression, and thus a form that the people of Japanese descent
were comfortable with. Their poetry offered a means of escape and relief,
a way to vent and reflect in the harsh environment they were trapped in.
While commenting on his own experiences, Inada asserts that "if it
weren't for the poem, the thoughts and feelings would have stayed submerged,
unexpressed, gradually fading and dispersing in my consciousness,"
and that that was "the way, the gift, of this ancient and universal
way known as poetry."
Most of the poems written by those in the camps were very short, as was
the Japanese tradition. The two most popular forms were tanka and haiku.
Haiku, the shortest form of poetry in the world, normally with a 5-7-5
syllable pattern, is mostly used to describe nature. Tanka poetry has
a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable pattern, speaks of nature and human emotions, and,
as the Nakanos write, "allows the reader to perceive the unsaid and
the intimated." However, poets were not restricted to these forms;
Makoto Ueda notes that in the early 20th century, some radical poets started
a free-style movement, advocating a "freer" form of haiku and
tanka. Also, as seen in the Inada poem presented earlier, not all poetry
was written in the short tanka and haiku forms.
According to Violet Kazue de Cristoforo, "the pre-war haiku [by
people in American of Japanese ancestry] expresses peacefulness and tranquility,
as well as hope for their future in America." For example, "The
Flower was yellow," by Reiko Gyomo reads "The flower is yellow
/ I see it clearly now / dawn on autumn field," and "Chrysanthemum
also in bloom" by Kazue Matsuda reads "Chrysanthemum also in
bloom / continuing fair weather / wish to chat with people." Although
not indicative of all poems written in the United States by Japanese aliens
or Japanese American poetry, it offers good representation of many of
them. Both center around the cheerful subject of flowers, and both poems
feature a calm, serene tone. Also, poets have written after this time
period to illustrate the feelings of the Japanese and Japanese Americans
before they were incarcerated. In the first of a series of poems about
a fictitious Japanese family in the United States, Geraldine C. Little
writes about the teenage Cathy in early December of 1942, prior to the
attack on Pearl Harbor: "Cathy muses to the mirror / What shall I
wear / to the Christmas hop? /
Red tingles Rob, / Rob tingles me.
/ I will wear red
" In this poem Little portrays the relatively
care-free attitude of the Japanese Americans through Cathy's worries over
clothes and boys. In several days, she will have much more momentous things
to worry about. Although many families did suffer from racial prejudice
and legal restrictions, these poets make it clear that these problems
paled in comparison to the experiences they were about to face.
The poetry begins to illustrate the emotions of the Japanese aliens and
Japanese Americans with the announcement of Executive Order 9066, which
ordered the removal of all specified people, which came to mean all those
of Japanese descent, from the West Coast. In a section of his poem titled
"Legends from Camp: Prologue," Inada describes the shock of
The situation, obviously, was rather confusing.
It obviously confused simple people
who had simply assumed they were friends, neighbors,
colleagues, partners, patients, customers, students,
teachers, of, not so much "aliens" or "non-aliens,"
but likewise simple, unassuming people
who paid taxes as fellow citizens and populated
pews and desks and fields and places
of ordinary American society and commerce.
This poem has a dry tone, subtly hinting at an anger and disbelief at
the unjust incarceration of "unassuming people" and "fellow
citizens." However, some of the poetry also illustrates how, even
though they might have been angry, the Japanese aliens and Japanese Americans
acted very compliantly, having faith in their country that the situation
would get better. One of the characters in Little's narrative poem muses
"I do not understand / at all, but if we must / go somewhere to serve
/ our country / then we must. Orders / are to be obeyed." Research
on the subject reveals, surprisingly, little resistance to the orders,
with few instances of public protest and violence, and Little's poem shows
the attitude that produced this atmosphere. Finally, the poems about the
evacuation shows the sadness that these people dealt with as they left
their homes and were forced to sell almost all their belongings, or what
Little called "a lifetime of accumulation." Yotenchi Agari reflects
the feelings of all the other Japanese aliens and Japanese Americans when
he writes "
about to leave this house / where my child was born."
Agari's poem illustrates how the thought of leaving the place where so
many of their memories had been made pained the prisoners.
Exteriorly, the poetry written in the camps can be taken to describe simply
the conditions in which the internees lived. Many of these poems dealt
with the landscape; from the deserts of Arizona to the swamplands of Arkansas
to the mountains of Wyoming. In an untitled poem, James Shinkai describes
the climate at Manzanar in the deserts of California:
Dust clouds, like brown smoke, rose and swirl and blow
from hidden lairs in icy crags, towering high,
like hungry pack of wolves, the gale sweeps low,
fangs sharp and bared, shrieking to the sky;
the guardian peaks emerge, serene and high.
Summer, with long, parched nights and days;
and heaven's bowl a shimmering blue of heat;
the thirsty hills are choked. The sun's hot blaze
before encroaching autumn, once more retreats.
King Winter reigns upon his icy seat.
The weather and seasons were a constant force that the internees had to
deal with, especially because the camps were located in unwanted and unpleasant
territories with extreme temperature variations. Not only was the weather
usually harsh, but the landscape was typically ugly as well. In a tanka
poem, the poet Yukari describes Topaz as a "land / where neither
grass / nor trees / nor wild flowers grow." Japanese aliens and Japanese
American poets, used to composing Haikus about the beauty of nature, usually
only found dust and barbed wire.
Matters of extreme temperatures, poor climate, and bad weather were worsened
by the fact that the shelters often lacked heat, at least at first, and
were flimsily made. Many of the poems describe or hint at the overall
horrendous living conditions. Little describes the rooms they had to live
in as "barracks / barely tacked together!" and that the paper
lining the walls "lacks the line / the color / of even a nourishing
/ turnip!" He goes on to describe the furnishings: "Steel army
cots / two mud-colored blankets /
Mattress covers / we are free
/ to stuff with straw." Little's poetry here informs us of the fact
that the living conditions were both unwelcoming and uncomfortable.
Outside of the rooms, camp life did not improve. Poets staying in the
camps often complained about the guards, the bathrooms, and the eating
facilities. The poets usually portrayed the guards as cold and unfeeling.
The lack of privacy and stench distinguished the bathrooms. The food was
characterized as gross and monotonous; in a section of Little's narrative
poem, a character describes one meal: "Rice / soppy with fruit syrup
/ Ugh! / I watch Mom accept / an ice-cream scoop dollop, eyes down."
With this passage, Little conjures imagery of the food ("rice / soppy
with fruit syrup") and expresses the inmates feelings about the food
in just a few words ("Ugh!" and "eyes down.") In the
poem "Kimiko Ozawa," poet Lee Ann Roripaugh complains that "My
feet, my mind, become numb / from standing in line all day - / lines to
eat, shower, shit / in the dirty outdoor benjos," demonstrating her
frustration at the over crowdedness and dirty conditions. These examples
illustrate how much can be learned about the Japanese and Japanese Americans'
experiences in the relocation camps just through simple and short poetry.
However, as stated earlier, the poems written by the internees do more
than show the conditions that they had to deal with. More powerful are
the emotional confessions and testimonials found in the poems. Exposed
to experiences too horrific for readers to imagine, these internees felt
that the ancient form of poetry served as the ideal way to express the
extreme emotions they were experiencing.
Many of the poems written during this time period reflected hope, the
emotion that helped the Japanese aliens and Japanese Americans through
these troubled times. At first hope manifested itself in the Japanese
and Japanese American's compliancy to the orders of the government and
their hesitation to complain. These people had faith in America; it was,
after all, the "land of the free." Many decided that they had
to do their "patriotic duty" and comply, and they were optimistic
about their fate and hoped they would be able to return home soon. "Legends
from Camp: The Legend of the Great Escape," written by Inada, demonstrates
how "loyal" he and the other internees really were:
The people were passive:
even when a train pauses
in the Great Plains, even
when soldiers were eating,
they didn't escape.
This "passiveness" was not necessarily a product of fear; it
was one of obligation and hope.
This hope also manifested itself early on in the form of the inmates trying
to make the best of their situation. Different people used different methods
to try to feel more "at home." For example, in the haiku titled
"At the Volcano Internment Camp," poet Muin Ozaki writes "I
feel a familiar voice / and feel comforted, for now." The fact that
people of his own kind are here as well eases Ozaki and gives him a reason
to stay optimistic. Other internees used their imagination; one character
in Little's narrative poem claims that she will "try to think / of
peach blossoms / not unripe persimmons / which saw and twist / the mouth,"
and another declares that she will "build the beautiful
this desert place / to make it bloom." Parents told their children
"Shikata ga nai," which means "it cannot be helped"
in order to try to have them accept their conditions and move on. The
Japanese aliens and Japanese Americans were not simply bitter about their
situation, and if they were they often held it in. Instead, they had faith
that their situation would improve because they had faith in their country,
and they vowed to make the best of the situation they were in.
Although this hope began to fade as time went on, it is still evident
in some poetry written towards the end of the internment. A poem by Michiko
Mizumoto titled "Manzanar" reflects the Japanese aliens and
Japanese Americans courage and hope throughout these trying years:
Scoff if you must, but the dawn is approaching,
when these, who have learned and suffered in silent courage;
better, wiser, for the unforgettable interlude of detention,
shall trod on free sod again,
side by side peacefully with those who sneered at the
These people who had "suffered in silent courage," expected
their eventual return to society, and they would try to not be angry or
resentful, but instead live "side by side peacefully," with
the rest of the country. Time, a component that caused many to lose hope,
actually served to alleviate others. In another section of Shinkai's untitled
poem, he writes "A year is gone. A quickening in the air; /
Spring - perhaps new hope, new life again." Shinkai refers to spring,
the universal symbol for renewal and new life, to represent his hope that
they will soon return home. A haiku by Neiji Ozawa reads "From this
window of despair / May Sky / There is always tomorrow." Like Shinkai,
he uses the symbol of spring to show that, even in the face of discouragement,
the Japanese and Japanese Americans in the internment camps held on to
However, it cannot be said that all the internees were hopeful and compliant.
Although perhaps many of them did not show their anger and bitterness
through actions such as violence and resistance, several poets express
their frustration and feelings of betrayal. Most of this anger came from
the realization of the irony that they had come to the "land of the
free," only to be detained. In the sarcastic haiku "Indeed -
festivals of," Kyotaro Komuro writes "Indeed - festivals of
/ obon and Independence Day / are here for us too." Komuro obviously
recognizes and is embittered by the irony behind celebrating Independence
Day in a concentration camp. The fact that others like them lived freely
further aggravated their anger; a character created by Little angrily
notes that "That German family / down the hill, / no one spits at
them / or taunts them traitors / or treats them differently." Many
poets wondered why they, many citizens of the United States, and not the
Italians and Germans, had been detained, and expressed this resentment
in their poems. A common theme among these poems is that even animals
weren't trapped up like them; a haiku by Hakuro Wako states that "even
the croaking of frogs / comes from outside the barbed wire fence
and Sojin Takei writes that "There is no fence / high up in the sky
/ that evening crows / fly up and disappear / into an endless horizon."
Japanese American poets pondered why, as human beings with human rights,
they were more detained than most animals?
This resentment and anger in many of the poems stemmed not only from just
the violation of civil liberties, but from just the mental effects of
being trapped and imprisoned. Another haiku by Gomyo expresses what the
imprisonment does to him; he writes "Feeling of oppression / withering
weeds / are dense." A famous anonymous poem that circulated around
the Poston Relocation Camp expresses the popular rage that boiled under
the internees' cool exterior:
They've sunk the posts deep into the ground
They've strung out wires all the way around.
With machine gun nests just over there,
And sentries and soldiers everywhere.
We're trapped like rats in a wired cage,
To fret and fume with impotent rage;
Yonder whispers the lure of the night,
But that DAMNED FENCE assails our sight.
We seek the softness of the midnight air,
But that DAMNED FENCE in the floodlight glare
Awakens unrest in our nocturnal quest,
And mockingly laughs with vicious jest.
With nowhere to go and nothing to do,
We feed terrible, lonesome, and blue:
That DAMNED FENCE is driving us crazy,
Destroying our youth and making us lazy.
Imprisoned in here for a long, long time,
We know we're punished--though we've committed no crime,
Our thoughts are gloomy and enthusiasm damp,
To be locked up in a concentration camp.
Loyalty we know, and patriotism we feel,
To sacrifice our utmost was our ideal,
To fight for our country, and die, perhaps;
But we're here because we happen to be Japs.
We all love life, and our country best,
Our misfortune to be here in the west,
To keep us penned behind that DAMNED FENCE,
Is someone's notion of NATIONAL DEFENCE!
This poem perfectly epitomizes the inmates' feelings of anger and frustration.
To them, the fence surrounding the camps symbolized their oppression by
the United States government and left them feeling trapped and defied.
In a section of his narrative poem, Little writes "Daffodils stab
the heart / wildly joyous - / moon-yellow dream!" As noted earlier,
flowers and spring imagery often symbolized hope in poetry from the internment
camps. However, as Little demonstrates here, they could also produce heartache
and sadness from the inmates, as the beauty of a daffodil would remind
them of better times. Grief, sorrow, and unhappiness, the overwhelming
emotions displayed in the poetry, must have been the most prominent feelings
among the Japanese aliens and Japanese Americans trapped in the relocation
In a haiku Gomyo writes "Vision of loneliness / I endure / in the
green of spring." Part of the sadness felt by the internees stemmed
from the loneliness that Goymo describes. The relocation process often
resulted in separation of families, especially at the beginning when men
were detained as being "dangerous" and towards the end of the
internment when many Issei were moved to Tule Lake for being "disloyal."
In a tanka, Takei expresses his grief: "My wife and children / Live
in a far away land / How lonely are the nights / Behind those barbed wire
fences." Thousands of inmates lived the experience of missing loved
ones, possibly one of the worst sorrows a person can endure. Besides missing
loved ones, sometimes internees just missed someone to talk to, a familiar
face. For example, poet Sei Sagara, interned at Tule Lake Segregation
Center, composed a haiku that read "Arranging playing cards on bed
/ room too large / for one occupant." Finally, this loneliness was
often the result of Japanese American men that were recruited to fight
in the war. Mothers, sisters, girlfriends and wives lamented over their
loved ones overseas. Poet Shizuku Uyemaru dedicated the following poem
to her brother: "No letters / thoughts wandering / to distant Pacific
war zone," and Little echoes the popular sentiment with a verse from
the viewpoint of a girl waiting for her boyfriend:
Sam, I try to see your face
in clouds, the features
no longer clear.
Will I leave it here
with all the rest
I twist your ring
that's never left
my finger. The world
but does not swing
In a haiku, Yotenchi Agari writes "Graves, another, and still another
/ on the ground
" The sadness expressed in this poetry often
stemmed from death of a loved one. Because of conditions in the camp,
many died due to illness and disease; there were also the usual deaths
from old age; and of course, Japanese American soldiers were killed the
war. In just a few short words, Ozawa expresses his anguish while watching
a friend die, writing "Ailing - / alongside dying man / we both look
at marigold." When Little describes the feelings in the camp when
news of a new soldier's death arrives, he writes that it "stabs"
the heart "too often," and that all they can do is picture "a
boy's burnished bones /
cold / in another land
" In a
tanka poem, Keiho Soga laments over a tragedy that reflects the despair
and hopelessness many prisoners must have felt. Soga describes how "a
fellow prisoner / takes his life with poison," and that "streaks
of black blood / stain the camp road." The fact that suicide existed
offers an example of the despair; however, Soga's imagery of the "streaks
of black blood" further emphasize the grim and miserable life these
However, most of the despair, the aguish, and the heartbreak expressed
by these poets come from one emotion: their longing for home. Whether
from California, Washington, or Oregon, the Japanese aliens and Japanese
Americans missed their lands, their neighborhoods, and their homes. Ozawa
reminds us that camp was nothing like home; after all, there were "No
on desert lake," like the great Pacific Ocean that they
missed. An anonymous poet describes how "memories" and "deep
longing" for home can "make eyes full." In "Legends
of Camp: The Legend of Home," Inada reflects the nostalgia the prisoners
felt for their old lives:
Home, too, was out there.
it had names like
Watsonville, and Lodi -
And they were all full of trees,
and grass, with fruit
for the picking, dogs
to chase, cats to catch
on the streets and roads
where Joey and Judy lived.
The blue tricycle
left in the weeds somewhere!
And when you came to a fence,
you went around it!
And one of those homes not only had a tunnel
but an overpass
that, when you went over,
going on forever up to
a gleaming bridge
leading into neon lights
and ice cream leaning
This powerful, heart-wrenching piece by Inada allows the readers to reflect
on what it would be like to not be able to see the things that he or she
saw everyday. In the haiku "Separated year ago today," Kikuha
Okamoto merely states that "Chinese quince / must be blooming in
my garden," but with this simple musing she expresses a longing not
easily put into words.
By 1943 the U.S. government had released large portions of Japanese aliens
and Japanese Americans and by the end of 1945, of all the relocation camps,
only Tule Lake Detention Center still had prisoners. Surprisingly, the
prisoners had mixed feelings about returning home. Some were jubilant
about seeing their homeland again; Takei wrote "Koko Head nears /
And now Diamond Head! / How bright the sea is / Shining in the morning
sunlight!" expressing his joy in seeing California again. However,
the thought of going back home scared many; one of Little's characters
ponders "How will they treat us / in that forest / of free."
The fact that the poets showed concern about going home further emphasizes
the emotional tragedy these people experienced; the experience had left
them scarred as they feared the country that they had once considered
the "land of the free."
Endless research has been done on the U.S. Relocation Camps during World
War II, but curiosity demands more than an investigation of the facts
concerning the internment. Although personal reflections, interviews,
and diaries all give important insights into the feelings and emotions
of the prisoners, poetry offers something important as well. Not always
able to express everything in prose and sentences, poetry gave many an
opportunity to accurately communicate their thoughts on paper, and though
it was not their intention, these poems add another dimension to studies
on the subject. Written by men and women, Issei and Nisei alike, the collections
of poetry from the internment camp tend to be unbiased and universal to
the most of the internees. Furthermore, it must be noted that besides
being proof of the hope, the anger, and the despair felt by the prisoners,
the poetry written by the Japanese aliens and Japanese Americans during
their internment must also be taken simply as examples of beautiful works
of art to be read and appreciated as they are.
Lawson Fusao Inada. "Concentration Constellation." Legends
from Camp. Minneapolis: Coffee House Press, 1993, pp27.
Jori and Kay Nakano. Foreword. Poets Behind Barbed Wire. By Taisanboku
Mori et al. Honolulu: Bamboo Ridge Press, 1983, ppvii.
Makoto Ueda. Foreword. May Sky: There is always Tomorrow. By Violet Kazue
de Cristoforo. Los Angeles: Sun Moon Press, 1997, pp9.
Violet Kazue de Cristoforo. May Sky: There is always Tomorrow. Los Angeles:
Sun Moon Press, 1997, pp29.
Reiko Gyomo. "The Flower is Yellow," de Cristoforo, 33.
Kazue Matsuda. "Chrysanthemum also in bloom." de Cristoforo,
Geraldine C. Little. Hakugai: Poems from a Concentration Camp. Austin:
Curbstone Publishing Company, 1983, pp12.
Inada. "Legends from Camp: Prologue.," pp8.
Yotenchi Agari. "Rhododendron Blooms." de Cristoforo, pp109.
James Shinkai, "Untitled Poem." Whispered Silences: Japanese
Americans and World War II. By Gary Y. Okihiro. Seattle: University of
Washington Press, 1996, pp123-124.
Yukari. "Someone named it Topaz." By Yoskiko Uchida. Desert
Exile: The Uprooting of a Japanese American Family. Seattle: University
of Washington Press, 1982, pp121.
Lee Ann Roripaugh. "Kimiko Ozawa." Heart Mountain. New York:
Hudson Books, 1999, pp27.
Inada. "Legends from Camp: The Legend of the Great Escape,"
Muin Ozaki. "At the Volcano Internment Camp." Muri et al., pp16.
Michiko Mizumoto. "Manzanar." Okihiro, pp223.
Neiji Ozawa. "From the window of despair." de Cristoforo, pp30.
Kyotoro Komoru. "Indeed - festivals of." de Cristoforo, pp107.
Hakuro Wako, "Even the croaking of frogs." de Cristoforo, pp273.
Sojin Takei. "Lordsburg Internment Camp" Muri et al., pp41.
Gomyo. "Feeling of Oppression," pp197.
"That Damned Fence." Okihiro, pp202.
Gomyo. "Vision of Loneliness," pp193.
Takei. "My wife and children," pp44.
Sei Sagara. "Arranging playing cards on bed." de Cristoforo,
Shizuku Uyemaru. "To Brother Dick, US Soldier." de Cristoforo,
Agari. "Graves, another, and still another," pp113.
Ozawa. "Ailing," pp223.
Keiho Soga. "A fellow prisoner." Muri et al., pp57.
Ozawa. "War forced us from California," pp217.
"Beyond those steel-blue western hills." Okihiro, pp196.
Inada. "Legends from Camp: The Legend of Home," pp22.
Kikuha Okamoto. "Separated year ago today." De Cristoforo, pp145.
Takei. "Koko Head nears," pp73.
Cearly, Sean. "Poetry of the Concentration Camp." [Online]
Available at http://www.telisphere.com/~cearley/sean/camps/, 2003.
de Cristofono, Violet Kazue. May Sky: There is Always Tommorrow. Los
Angeles: Sun Moon Press, 1997.
Hath, Erica, ed. Last Witness: Reflections on the Wartime Internment
of the Japanese Americans. New York: Palgrave, 2001.
Inada, Lawson Fusao. Legends from Camp. Minneapolis: Coffee House Press,
"January." Poston Chronicle. 31 December 1942: 8.
Little, Geraldine C. Hakugai: Poems from a Concentration Camp. Austin:
Curbstone Publishing Company, 1983.
Matsura, Artist. "Impressions of Gila, 1." Gila News Courier.
7 October 1942: 4.
Mori, Taisanboku, et al. Poets Behind Barbed Wire. Eds. Jiro Nakano and
Kav Nakano. Honolulu: Bamboo Ridge Press, 1983.
"My Gila Diary." Gila News Courier. 17 October 1942: 4.
Nelson, Cary. "Japanese American Concentration Camp Haiku."
[Online] Available at http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/g_l/haiku/haiku.htm,
Okihiro, Gary Y. Whispered Silences: Japanese Americans and World War
II. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1996.
Roripaugh, Lee Ann. Beyond Heart Mountain. New York: Hudson Books, 1999.
Tule Lake Committee. Kinenhi: Reflections on Tule Lake. San Francisco:
The Tule Lake Committee, 1980.
Uchida, Yoshiko. Desert Exile: The Uprooting of a Japanese American Family.
Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1982.