There's a lot here about the psychological effect of the kamikaze on the Americans. What about their effect on the Japanese?
It is important to remember that the kamikaze pilots were not, for the most part, fanatical suicidical maniacs who wanted to die rather than surrender. They were, for the most part, very young men - often students and teenagers - who were indoctrinated and pressured into doing what was perceived as their personal duty to the emperor and to their families. Their training basically consisted of being bullied until they completely cracked. Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney has studied the diaries of these pilots and written about them (see her Kamikaze diaries: reflections of Japanese student soldiers. .) and they are heart-rending stuff. Most of these pilots didn't want to die at all but felt they had no choice. Many of them rationalised it as a matter of giving their lives so that others - above all their families - could live. A lot of them were intellectuals, who flew into battle quoting Novalis and Kant. Some of them were Christians, who took Bibles with them on their last flights. And some of them were pacifists, who felt that their sacrifice might help to end war altogether.
They were pressured not only by the military but by their families to go through with their flights. When the war ended, those kamikaze pilots who were still training and had not yet undertaken their final mission were ostracised, including by their families, because it was felt that they should have killed themselves anyway. Such is the nutty Japanese obsession with suicide.
Here's an account of the night before the kamikaze flights, given years later by a man who worked at the base as an attendant:
It is important to remember that the kamikaze pilots were not, for the most part, fanatical suicidical maniacs who wanted to die rather than surrender. They were, for the most part, very young men - often students and teenagers - who were indoctrinated and pressured into doing what was perceived as their personal duty to the emperor and to their families. Their training basically consisted of being bullied until they completely cracked. Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney has studied the diaries of these pilots and written about them (see her Kamikaze diaries: reflections of Japanese student soldiers. .) and they are heart-rending stuff. Most of these pilots didn't want to die at all but felt they had no choice. Many of them rationalised it as a matter of giving their lives so that others - above all their families - could live. A lot of them were intellectuals, who flew into battle quoting Novalis and Kant. Some of them were Christians, who took Bibles with them on their last flights. And some of them were pacifists, who felt that their sacrifice might help to end war altogether.
They were pressured not only by the military but by their families to go through with their flights. When the war ended, those kamikaze pilots who were still training and had not yet undertaken their final mission were ostracised, including by their families, because it was felt that they should have killed themselves anyway. Such is the nutty Japanese obsession with suicide.
Here's an account of the night before the kamikaze flights, given years later by a man who worked at the base as an attendant:
Kasuga Takeo said:At the hall where their farewell parties were held, the young student officers drank cold sake the night before their flight. Some gulped the sake in one swallow; others kept gulping down [a large amount]. The whole place turned to mayhem. Some broke hanging light bulbs with their swords. some lifted chairs to break the windows and tore white tablecloths. A mixture of military songs and curses filled the air. While some shouted in rage, others cried aloud. It was their last night of life. They thought of their parents, their faces and images, lovers' faces and their smiles, a sad farewell to their fiancees - all went through their minds like a running-horse lantern. Although they were supposedly ready to sacrifice their precious youth the next morning for imperial Japan and for the emperor, they were torn beyond what words can express - some putting their heads on the table, some writing their wills, some folding their hands in meditation, some leaving the hall, and some dancing in a frenzy while breaking flower vases. They all took off wearing the rising sun headband the next morning. But this scene of utter desperation has hardly been reported. I observed it with my own eyes, as I took care of their daily life, which consisted of incredibly strenuous training, coupled with cruel and torturous corporal punishment as a daily routine.