Guest Ranch Prison

COVERT EXILE An Arizona Dude Ranch Held the KEY JAPANESE SPY of the PEARL HARBOR RAID

Rhea Robinson clearly recalled that February 1942 morning when one of her husband's U.S. Border Patrol superiors appeared at their door in Benson, a small town about 45 minutes southeast of Tucson. "He told my husband, Reed, to be ready to go on assignment in 30 minutes. Reed packed a dress suit, a uniform and work clothes. Weeks later, I received a letter from him, postmarked 'El Paso.' I did not know that he was actually on a special detail at the Triangle T Guest Ranch, just 20 minutes down the road."

His secret assignment: guarding the Japanese diplomats who helped engineer the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

Rhea spoke eloquently of those chaotic early days of World War II, while we sipped coffee at the Triangle T Guest Ranch almost six decades later. I watched sunlight touch the jumbled rocks unique to Texas Canyon. These imposing boulder outcroppings, buttressing the ranch's inaccessibility, had been a factor in choosing the Triangle T as a secure place to imprison the diplomats from the Japanese Consulate in Honolulu after the Pearl Harbor bombing.

The Triangle T Guest Ranch's story started The Triangle T Guest Ranch's story started when, in 1913, George Brown received a patent on the land, calling it Three Oaks; several large live oak trees still stand. The Seabring family acquired the land a few years later and developed it as a fruit ranch. In 1929, Katherine Tutt took ownership as a result of a breach-of-contract-to-marry suit. Tutt, who built the cabins and outfitted them with artistic furniture, modern electric lights and running water, successfully ran the property as the Triangle T Guest Ranch. The ranch hosted many prominent visitors, including John D. Rockefeller Jr. and Gen. John J. "Black Jack" Pershing. An early John Wayne Western, West of the Divide, was filmed there in 1934.

For several years, I queried the National Archives and Records Administration and the FBI about rumors that high-ranking Japanese officials had been imprisoned at the Triangle T during World War II. The answer was always the same: "No such records exist." Then I met Rhea Robinson, whose husband had guarded Japanese prisoners at the ranch, and learned that she had photographs and his Border Patrol logbook to prove it. Ultimately, the National Archives found and declassified the World War II records on the Triangle T. Rhea and I were stunned to learn that these prisoners were the Honolulu diplomats who'd supplied Tokyo with information key to the Pearl Harbor bombing.

On Dec. 7, 1941, apprehensive Japanese diplomats at the Honolulu consulate huddled around their shortwave radio to listen to news from Japan. Above the crescendo of exploding bombs and wailing sirens, they heard three words "East wind, rain"-in the course of an otherwise routine Japanese weather report. This code phrase confirmed that Japan had attacked the United States.

Consul General Nagao Kita and his staff expected imminent arrest. Although it was supposed to be a secret, Kita had learned that Emperor Hirohito and highranking military officers meant to sacrifice the consulate's safety to protect their secret plan for Pearl Harbor.

Kita knew what was loom-ing, but not the attack's exact date, and so could not escape.

When Americans arrived to place Kita, his staff, their families and servants under house arrest, they found the diplomats hastily burning incriminating documents in a tub. The 23 prisoners included Kita, Vice Consul General Otojiro Okuda, First Secretary Sainon Tsukikawa, Second Secretary Kyonosuke Yuge, Treasurer Kohichi Seki, Takeo Yoshikawa (posing as Fourth Secretary Tadashi Morimura) and their wives, children and attendants.

While negotiating with Japan for an exchange of imprisoned American diplomats who had been posted throughout the Far East, the U.S. State Department detained many consular Japanese diplomats in a historic hotel at The Homestead resort in Hot Springs, Virginia. However, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover wanted the Honolulu diplomats to be kept separate because of their covert role in the Pearl Harbor attack. He insisted that they be detained where their activities could be closely monitored.

State Department Special Agent Edward W. Bailey hadjust 48 hours to find suitable lodging for these Japanese citizens. After choosing Arizona for its remote outback areas, Bailey, along with two local officials, canvassed the state and selected the Triangle T Guest Ranch, which is surrounded by rugged, rocky desert.

On Feb. 8, 1942, in a flurry of activity in the Japanese Consulate, servants packed trunks, and the Japanese prepared for a journey to an unknown place. They left Honolulu aboard the USS President Hayes, quartered in first-class staterooms. When the ship docked at San Diego on Feb. 17, Bailey assumed responsibility for them. Border Patrol officers transferred the Japanese, under heavy guard, by bus to the railroad station, where they boarded air-conditioned Pullman cars. In Los Angeles, these cars were switched to a Southern Pacific train bound for Tucson and beyond. Two days later, the train arrived at Dragoon, near the Triangle T. Border Patrol guards drove the Japanese detainees in unmarked Immigration Service cars to the ranch. After receiving their cabin assignments, the prisoners ate dinner and then retired for the night.

With the declaration of war, the United Twice a week, Bailey took their shopping lists, which he said 'read like a Sears Roebuck catalogue,' to Tucson, where he purchased their toiletries and clothing.

States had heightened its border security. As a Border Patrol agent, Reed Robinson searched buses and cars for German and Japanese citizens trying to escape to Mexico. Benson suffered a housing shortage, so the Robinsons and their month-old son lived in a motel room. Then Reed Robinson left for his mysterious assignment. No other guests were allowed to stay at the Triangle T during the incarceration of the Japanese officials. Five “perfectly trustworthy” servants prepared the prisoners' meals, did their laundry and cleaned their cabins. Twice a week, Bailey took their shopping lists, which he said “read like a Sears Roebuck catalogue,” to Tucson, where he purchased their toiletries and clothing.

Rhea Robinson said, “Occasionally the guards grumbled because they lived in tents while their enemies enjoyed comfortable cabins.” Except for select officials, no one-not even ranch managers Donald Huntington and Marjorie Murfree-knew the full identity of their guests, only that they were highranking Japanese citizens. And yet, rumors persisted that something was going on at the Triangle T. When a curious U.S. Army captain from Tucson called at the ranch, the guards refused to let him enter. Ultimately, they also turned away Cochise County Sheriff I.V. Pruitt, who returned with a posse. But the guards held firm and told him to contact Washington. As for the prisoners, Takeo Yoshikawa later said, “We knew only that we were some place on the 'Arizona plateau.'” Despite all the secrecy, just a week after their arrival, the Feb. 26 Tucson Daily Citizen ran a short article, “Arizona Ranch Now Occupied by Jap Aliens.” Alarmed officials from the State Department stepped in immediately. The article caused equal consternation for rival paper Arizona Daily Star's pugnacious editor, William Matthews, who hated being “scooped” by William Johnson, the Citizen's editor. Still, in the interest of the war effort, both papers reluctantly agreed not to publish anything else on the Japanese prisoners.

The guards fenced off 3 acres with barbed wire. Here the prisoners could exercise or relax. Anyone touching the fence would light up a panel in the guards' tent. All of the ranch entrances were blocked except for one guarded gate. Bailey supervised the only telephone in Huntington's office. Later, Reed Robinson told his wife, “We put fuses on empty boxes along the fence and told the Japanese that their movements were being photographed.” A few days after their arrival, FBI Agent Fred G. Tillman reached the ranch to interrogate the prisoners. Through the barbed wire, Bailey told Tillman he would not be allowed entry until the State Department cleared his request. A disgruntled Tillman returned to Benson to wait three days for authorization.

During the next weeks, Tillman interrogated the imprisoned men who spoke English. All denied committing espionage, and Kita described his consular duties as routine. When Tillman produced evidence that the Japanese Consulate in Honolulu had forwarded to Tokyo information about U.S. fleet movements, Kita shrugged and said, “Such acts might have been performed by my staff.” Okuda, who served as consul general until Kita arrived, failed to properly notify the State Department when his duties terminated on June 25, 1941. Tillman pointed out that this oversight deprived the prisoner of diplomatic immunity. Hoover wanted to prosecute Okuda, but Assistant Secretary of State Adolph Berle wrote, “Quite likely the Japanese consul deserves to be shot, but we should undeniably risk the life of one of our men [held by the Japanese], without gaining very much save abstract justice.” Yoshikawa, trained in espionage, had joined the consulate staff in Hawaii under the alias “Tadashi Morimura.” He knew every U.S. Navy ship and had filed daily diplomatic reports on the fleet's movements. The 29-year-old spy associated with geishas at the Shuncho-ro Tea House near downtown Honolulu, and they passed him information they'd gleaned while entertaining American sailors. Yoshikawa also observed Pearl Harbor and Hickam Field. He noted that the American fleet was brightly lighted

at night and visible in the early dawn hours. In a 1960 interview with Lt. Col. Norman Stanford of the U.S. Marine Corps, Yoshikawa contended that "for a brief moment I held history in the palm of my hand."

Tillman noted that Yoshikawa's left ring finger had been amputated at the first joint. Although Yoshikawa denied it, Tillman speculated that he belonged to a "super patriotic" faction of the Black Dragon Society, whose members mutilated their fingers for identification. This fanatical group hated foreigners and executed anyone who questioned the emperor's divinity.

After Tillman completed his interrogations, life at the Triangle T settled into a routine while both sides waited for news of the prisoner exchange. Curious inquiries at the ranch gradually stopped. The Japanese received censored mail but no newspapers or magazines. Per week, the U.S. government paid $900 to the Triangle T for the prisoners' rooms and board, $225 for the eight Border Patrol guards and $35 for tips for the servants. In addition, the State Department remitted $100 to Bailey for Kita's purchase of incidentals.

Even the prisoners' haircuts required confidentiality. Bailey proposed employing Benson City Councilman and barber Val Kimbrough, making contact through Mayor Vince Gibson, known to be "a man of discretion." The State Department advised Bailey to tell Kimbrough to cut their hair short so they wouldn't have to go so often. By the time he got the approval, though, Bailey had bought clippers, and the prisoners did a fair job of cutting their own hair.

Dr. Alexander Shoun of Benson treated simple infections or toothaches. However, one night a consulate servant, Hanu Kusanobu, cried with severe abdominal pain. Shoun diagnosed appendicitis. With Robert Hiroyoshi Sumida riding along to translate, Bailey drove her and a Border Patrol guard to the Desert Sanitarium (now Tucson Medical Center).

Further examination showed that she had a ruptured tubal pregnancy, and Dr. Victor Gore operated. The federal government paid for her medical expenses, but refused to pay the Triangle T for her room and board while she was hospitalized. During Kusanobu's recuperation, 17-year-old Sumida came daily to serve as her translator, and her husband was allowed to visit her.

Finally on May 21, the United States completed negotiations with Japan for the prisoner exchange. The State Department ordered Bailey to prepare the prisoners for repatriation. Young Sumida, there with his parents, who were a gardener and housekeeper at the consulate, unsuccessfully protested his deportation, arguing he had been born in Hawaii. By law, however, citizenship by right of birth on American soil specifically does not apply to children of foreign diplomatic staff or to children of foreign nationals whose country is at war with the United States. Escorted by Border Patrol agents, including Reed Robinson, all the prisoners boarded the train at Dragoon 10 days later.

On June 7, 1942, 450 German and Japanese diplomatic officials and their families, who had been stationed in the United States, Canada and Latin America, poured into New York City. The Japanese prisoners lodged on the top two floors of the Pennsylvania Hotel, with Border Patrol agents and the New York City police guarding all the entrances.

The exchange took time because it had to be rank for rank. After the returning American and Canadian diplomats who had served in Japan, Korea, China, Indochina, Hong Kong and other Far East posts disembarked on June 18, 1942, the Japanese boarded the neutral Swedish ship Gripsholm. Upon his return to Japan, Kita formally complained to the Swedish Legation, describing treatment at the Triangle T as cruel and inhumane. The State Department denied the charges, and nothing more came of the accusations. Guards dismantled the fence and signal system, and Donald Huntington closed the Triangle T and joined the Army.

After World War II, the Triangle T Guest Ranch reopened, and today it welcomes guests to the same cabins commandeered during those four months in 1942. Evening sunsets still color the extraordinary rock formations from soft pink to shadowed indigo, just like more than 50 years ago when foreign enemies spent a brief desert exile shrouded in wartime secrecy. АН