Fiske Hanley was born in January 1920 in Brownwood, Texas, one of the five children in his family. Although he grew up during the Great Depression, his father’s work in the oil field business was not interrupted, and the family lived better than most.
Hanley went for two years to Texas Agricultural College, then moved to Texas Tech in Lubbock. He was a junior there, and was driving a date around and listening to the radio, when he heard the news of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii on 7 December 1941. Hanley didn’t know where Pearl Harbor was and wondered what was going on with the Japanese. He also wondered about what he should do; he wanted to finish his education. When he received his “greetings from the draft boar” in the fall of 1942, he volunteered to join the Army Air Corps where he could be Air Corp office safe behind the lines.
He was allowed to finish his degree in May 1943 and the morning after graduation left for Boca Raton, Florida for basic training. Next he studied at Yale University to learn aircraft engineering, and in February 1944 he earned his wings and was commissioned as Second Lieutenant, qualified on the B-29 Superfortress, a very heavy bomber, even though he had never flown one.orcas a big airplane, 130 foot wingspan, pressurized cabin, and advanced radar and electronics.
He went for further training as a flight engineer at Boeing in Seattle, Washington, and was then sent to Lowry Field in Denver, Colorado to learn to fly B-29s; however, there were only B-17 Flying Fortress heavy bombers and B-24s. Consolidated B-24 Liberator heavy bomber in which to train. At Fairmont Army Airfield in Fairmont, Nebraska he joined his 11 man flight crew, but there were still no B-29s until just before they left, and they mostly flew B-17s. As an aside, Hanley noted that while he was there, Colonel Tibbets came to their base and chose from among his friends in the 393rd Squadron.
393rd Bombardment Squadron for the atomic bomb crew and took them off to Wendover, Utah. Then US Army Air Forces Colonel, later US Air Force Brigadier General, Paul Warfield Tibbets, Jr., was the pilot of the Enola Gay, the B-29 that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan on 6 August 1945.
No one knew what an atomic bomb was, but if it shortened the war, Hanley was all for it. His squadron went to their aerial point of embarkation in Herington, Kansas, and in early 1945 Hanley’s crew started west to Mather Field in Sacramento, California, then proceeded to John Rodgers Field in Hawaii. A schoolmate who was on the general staff there informed Hanley that he would be participating in Operation Olympic, the invasion of Japanese home islands.
The B-29 Superfortress very heavy bomber had “lots of troubles,” but Fiske Hanley said his crew made it to Hawaii “okay.” The primary weakness was the engine. They were rushed into production. They swallowed valves, and the exhaust system would blow out, engine fires, , and failed engines. The engine change in some of the B-29’s was only lasting 20 hours. After a week of getting the airplane in shape, they headed west under sealed orders, arriving on Saipan, Mariana Islands on 12 January 1945.
There, their new airplane was taken away and they were issued a B-24. Consolidated B-24 Liberator heavy bomber to fly to their home base on Tinian, Mariana Islands. They began flying practice missions on any available plane. Hanley describes the 313th Wing’s rookie missions, which were not very effective. They were using real bombs dropped from 25,000 to 30,000 feet on islands that were occupied by the Japanese. But the results were less than encouraging. 200 B-29’s were involved in a Special Bombing Mission during which they dropped bombs on Iwo Jima from 30,000 feet but 90% of the barrage missed the island.
Henley said they mainly killed a lot of fish. But he was made an honorary Marine for all the foxholes they created on Iwo Jima. It was finally determined that at high altitudes the Jet Stream winds had an effect on the bomb sights causing the bombs to miss their targets. When the bombing runs were changed to 4000 to 6000 feet the accuracy greatly improved and they hit everything. General “Hap” Arnold was the commander of the Army Air Forces during World War II.
He took command of the Air Corps on 9 March 1945, and adjusted operations, and the subsequent bombings of Tokyo, Nagoya, Kobe and Osaka. Hanley’s crew made three of those missions. The missions were a great success. Crews in the Pacific had to fly 35 missions, and on 27 March 1945 Hanley’s crew was assigned one they “liked”; the first mining mission for the 313th Wing with no flak and no fighters predicted. And then a mission came up called Operation Starvation where the planes would drop mines to close off the Japanese food supply.
They dropped 12 naval mines in the Shimonoseki Strait between the two Main Japanese islands, but the Japanese had broken the American code, and knew what was happening beforehand. The airborne crews encountered searchlights and intense antiaircraft fire from the Navy ships especially the Yamato. three B-29s, including Hanley’s, were shot down.
It was Hanley’s job to keep all engines running until they could “bail out or ditch,” but engines three and four were on fire. Hanley handed the fire extinguisher to the navigator, and when the man opened the bomb bay door, smoke and flames incinerated him and the radio operator. Hanley followed the pilot, copilot and bombardier through the nose hatch, and landed in a rice paddy.
First, Fiske Hanley said, he prayed after bailing out of his battle damaged B-29 Superfortress. With some difficulty he reached his ripcord, and was drifting toward the earth. During his fall, he counted only one other parachute, and saw his plane crash in flames. Hanley’s combat career ended then, during his seventh mission over Japanese territory; and only he and the plane’s copilot survived.
Hanley landed in the middle of a rice paddy and was surrounded by what seemed like 200 civilians who began beating him with bamboo spears. He tried to surrender, but it didn’t work; Hanley said his flak suit saved his life. An unusually large Japanese policeman intervened, and got him to a nearby town.
Japanese practice dictated that B-29 airmen be tried and executed, and special rules applied to the airmen while awaiting disposition such as half rations, no sanitation and no medical attention. Hanley sustained 40 or 50 flak wounds, as well as injuries from the beatings. Only one in 29 crewmen, fewer than 200, captured in Japan survived the war, and 13 of them were from Hanley’s last mission. He was handed over to the vicious Kenpeitai military and secret police force of the Japanese Army, and taken to their base at Kuro, in the northern area of Kyushu.
A week later they were put on a train to Tokyo where they were interrogated at the Kenpeitai Imperial Japanese Army headquarters. “High ranking, highly intelligent Japanese” conducted the questioning in English, according to Hanley, and they got the information they wanted using Kendo Bats, sabers and bayonets. Hanley spent a considerable amount of time with seven other prisoners in a five-by-nine cell; they were not allowed to communicate with each other. They welcomed air raids, anything that would bring the war to an end.
During his interrogation, Fiske Hanley was asked some military questions, but the Japanese interest centered mostly on what the American people thought about the war, and how soon they wanted it to end. Hanley felt they were working toward a peace treaty that would be “honorable to the Japanese.” They asked how Hanley would conduct an invasion of Japan, and he made something up; he said nothing about Operation Olympic.
They told him their plan of defense, and how they meant to make victory for the Allies so expensive in terms of men and machines that capitulation would be the only answer. Hanley discusses how he knows the atomic bomb saved over 20 million lives. He only left his cell when he was being questioned, and during interrogation, Hanley’s wounds were the targets of torture. In charge of the prisoners was a civilian who worked for the Kenpaitai, and was responsible for most of the deaths in the prison; his saying was, “you dog, you’re going to die.”
The prisoners’ only nourishment came from golf-ball sized rice clumps that were thrown onto the dirty floor of the cell. People were dying all around Hanley, and the dead might lie around for days before being collected and carted off. After a while, Hanley could no longer intelligibly respond to questioning, and his captors quit interrogating him.
When he complained about the lack of medical attention, he was brought to the infirmary where they intentionally infected all his wounds. In May 1945, 62 American prisoners, all B-29 [Annotator’s Note: Boeing B-29 Superfortress very heavy bomber] personnel, were taken to the Tokyo military prison. When a B-29 bomb set the prison on fire, the Japanese left the American prisoners inside to die. Hanley credits his own survival to his faith and his will to live. He said he learned to accept and appreciate life.
When the atomic bombs were dropped, Fiske Hanley and his fellow prisoners were totally unaware of the events, but scuttlebutt finally reached them, and on the night of 15 August 1945, all the American prisoners were put on trucks and taken to Tokyo Bay to bathe. . Hanley said it was a dreadful sight, he only weighed 70 pounds at that time. They were then taken to a camp on a nearby island where they stayed for two weeks, and Navy and Marine fliers were dropping them candy, gum and cigarettes. Food improved and life was better.
On 28 August, a Marine fighter plane dropped a note that said, “Tomorrow you will be liberated.” General MacArthur didn’t want the American prisoners liberated until after the Peace Treaty had been signed but US Navy Fleet Admiral William F. Halsey said to ignore MacArthur and made arrangements to release the prisoners. The Third Fleet was in the harbor, and mid-afternoon on the next day, Hanley saw one of the most beautiful sights of his life. There were six landing craft coming in with American flags flying.
Because his condition was serious, Hanley was one of the first taken to the USS Benevolence (AH-13), a hospital ship. He climbed up the ladder into the care of pretty nurses in clean white uniforms. He was stripped and deloused, examined and treated. During his incarceration, Hanley’s greatest worry was of dying from his infected wounds, but he said he is proof that a human body can heal.
The prisoners were allowed to eat anything they wanted and they did, then went to the rails and lost it. Hanley describes his memories of the dungeon, and he is sure that the reason many of the prisoners died was because they lost hope. He came to know several of his fellow prisoners, and has kept in touch with some of them. Since the war he has worked with some Japanese people, and he is “all right with them,” but he said that he is still nervous around Japanese people he doesn’t know.
The only help Fiske Hanley remembers getting from the Red Cross while he was overseas was the loan of two books when he was in Camp Omori before being sent to the Tokyo prison. After he was taken off the hospital ship where he was treated aboard the hospital ship USS Benevolence AH-13. He traveled from Okinawa to home.
He had no way of communicating with his family, and said the Red Cross was nowhere to be found during that time. He remembered being taken off the hospital ship and transported to a destroyer, and the next day being called to report to the stern of the ship to talk to the press. The interviewer turned out to be Ted Dealey, president of the “Dallas Morning News,” who promised he would contact Hanley’s family, and he did within two hours.
Hanley joked that it took the Pentagon three weeks to send his family notice that Hanley was “returned to American hands.” Hanley mentioned giving Dealey credit in a book he has written about his POW experience. He was just happy to be alive and free. He was taken to a hospital in Hawaii, then to Letterman Hospital in San Francisco, California. While he was there, the Red Cross finally helped him contact his family, and they were relieved to know he was stateside. The next day he learned from the Red Cross that his father was dying, and they put him on a fast train to San Antonio, Texas.
He arrived home in the middle of October 1945, and the family had a “real homecoming.” Hanley’s father died of cancer two weeks later. In 1947, he married American Airlines stewardess Betty Baker in Tulsa, and they remained devoted to one another until her death in May, 1992. Later that year he married Ann Dana and they shared in love spanning the globe until her death in 2004.
Early that following year, he married Geraldine Trahey and tended to her until she died in 2013. Within a few months, he married Peggy Day but they divorced after 2 years. He joked that he was batting .750 in his 2 marriages and should be inducted into the Hall of Fame.
Upon returning home from WWll in late 1945 he joined Convair’s Fort Worth plant in late 1945 as a flight engineer. In 1959, after his maiden flight on a Convair B-58 nearly descended into Tampa Bay, his wife Betty convinced him to become a design engineer in the plant where he remained until 1989. One of the projects he worked on included the development of the F-16 fighter.
After the war, Fiske Hanley was involved in testifying against the Kenpeitai. By then, Hanley was married and had a good job at General Dynamics. Late one night, he was awakened by two men from the Criminal Investigation Division who wanted to interview him then and there, and he answered their questions for about three hours. They showed him photographs and Hanley gave them information, and his testimony was notarized. Hanley talks about how the criminals were prosecuted.
Fiske was asked if the war changed him, Hanley responded “of course” but he doesn’t let things he can’t control bother him, and he’s a better person. Fiske said America fought to win and did, and the rest of the world was changed. Fiske thought and believed the purpose of museums such as The National WWII Museum,New Orleans is to let the younger generations know what happened in the past, so they can profit from the information.
Lt. Fiske Hanley II (January 14, 1920 – August 9, 2020)
Fiske Hanley, II, 100, died Sunday, Aug. 9, 2020, on the skilled nursing floor at Trinity Terrace with his window overlooking First Presbyterian Church, where he was confirmed in 1931 and was the congregation’s longest serving member.
He spent the remainder of his life authoring two books and touring locally and internationally to provide lectures. His first book was titled “History of the 504th Bomb Group” followed by “Accused American War Criminal.”
His funeral was held in the Independence Chapel at Greenwood Mausoleum.
“War changed me, I don’t let things I can’t control bother me, and I’m a better person.”
— Fiske Hanley
“America fought to win and did, and the rest of the world was changed.”
— Fiske Hanley
“The good Lord saved me over and over and over.”
— Fiske Hanley
Hanley asked a pastor why he’s a survivor. “He said the good Lord has kept you alive to tell the world what bad people do.” —Fiske Hanley
Endnote
World War II Experience
Fiske Hanley II’s World War II experience stands as a harrowing testament to the extremes of human endurance, the brutality of modern warfare, and the complexities of justice and memory. As a B-29 flight engineer with the 504th Bombardment Group, Hanley participated in some of the most consequential air operations of the Pacific War, survived the fiery destruction of his aircraft over Japan, and endured months of torture and deprivation as a “Special Prisoner” of the Japanese Kempeitai.
His story, meticulously documented through oral histories, military records, and his own memoirs, provides a unique window into the lived realities of aircrew combat, the fate of downed airmen in enemy hands, and the postwar reckoning with war crimes. This report offers a detailed, source-driven narrative of Hanley’s journey, from his early life and education through his military service, capture, imprisonment, and eventual liberation, situating his ordeal within the broader context of the Pacific air war and the legal and moral aftermath of Japanese wartime conduct.
Life and Training on Tinian
On Tinian, Hanley and his crew joined the 504th’s operations at North Field, one of the largest airfields in the world at the time. Living in Quonset huts, the officers enjoyed relatively comfortable accommodations compared to the enlisted men, who resided in tents. The base was a bustling hub of activity, with Seabees (naval construction battalions) building infrastructure and providing amenities such as a performance stage and improved mess facilities.
Training missions included practice runs to Iwo Jima, Truk, Aguijan, and Pagan Islands, as well as simulated bombing raids designed to prepare crews for the unique challenges of high-altitude, long-range operations over Japan. The crews quickly became aware of the dangers they faced; attrition rates were high, and the requirement to complete 35 missions before rotating home seemed daunting.
Operations and Tactics in the Pacific Theater
The Strategic Bombing Campaign
The B-29 Superfortress represented the pinnacle of American bomber technology in World War II, featuring pressurized cabins, remote-controlled gun turrets, and unprecedented range and payload capacity. Initially conceived as a high-altitude, precision bomber, the B-29’s early missions from the Marianas were plagued by technical difficulties, unpredictable weather, and the discovery of the powerful jet stream over Japan, which severely hampered bombing accuracy.
Tactical Evolution: From Precision to Incendiary Raids
Under the command of General Curtis LeMay, the 20th Air Force shifted tactics in early 1945. Recognizing the limitations of high-altitude daylight raids, LeMay ordered low-altitude, nighttime incendiary attacks designed to exploit the flammability of Japanese cities, which were largely constructed of wood and paper. The most infamous of these was Operation Meetinghouse, the firebombing of Tokyo on March 9–10, 1945, which killed an estimated 100,000 people and destroyed 16 square miles of the city.
Hanley’s 504th Bombardment Group participated in these operations, flying both high-explosive and incendiary missions against Tokyo, Nagoya, Kobe, and Osaka. The psychological and physical toll on aircrews was immense; they witnessed firsthand the devastation wrought by their bombs and faced increasingly desperate Japanese defenses, including intense anti-aircraft fire and night fighter attacks.
Mining Operations: Operation Starvation
In addition to area bombing, B-29s were employed in mining operations aimed at crippling Japanese shipping. Known as Operation Starvation, these missions involved dropping naval mines in strategic waterways, such as the Shimonoseki Strait, to block the movement of supplies and reinforcements. These operations proved highly effective, sinking more ships than American submarines during the final months of the war
Hanley’s first combat mission targeted Kobe, Japan, and was followed by additional raids on Tokyo, Nagoya, and Osaka. He participated in three of the five major incendiary missions that devastated these cities in March 1945. The missions were grueling, often lasting 14–16 hours, and exposed crews to heavy anti-aircraft fire, night fighters, and the ever-present risk of mechanical failure.
Capture and Initial Treatment
Encounter with Civilians
Upon landing, Hanley found himself surrounded by an angry mob of Japanese civilians, incensed by the recent firebombing of Tokyo and other cities. The crowd, numbering in the hundreds, attacked him with bamboo spears and beat him severely. Hanley’s flak suit likely saved his life during this initial assault. A Japanese police officer intervened, pulling Hanley away from the mob and transporting him to the local mayor’s office, where he received cursory medical attention for shrapnel wounds and injuries sustained during the beating.
Transfer to Military Custody
Shortly thereafter, Hanley was handed over to the Kempeitai, the feared military police and secret police force of the Imperial Japanese Army. He was initially held at a base in Kuro, northern Kyushu, before being transported by train to Tokyo. The journey was marked by uncertainty and fear, as Hanley and other captured airmen were informed that they would not be treated as prisoners of war but as “Special Prisoners” or war criminals, subject to summary execution for the alleged crime of killing civilians through indiscriminate bombing.
Classification as a “Special Prisoner” by the Kempeitai
Legal and Political Context
The Japanese government, in response to the devastating effects of the B-29 bombing campaign, adopted a policy of treating captured airmen as war criminals rather than as lawful prisoners of war. This classification, known as “Special Prisoner” status, stripped airmen of the protections afforded by the Geneva Convention and subjected them to arbitrary punishment, including torture, starvation, and execution.
The rationale for this policy was rooted in the belief that the firebombing of Japanese cities constituted “indiscriminate and inhumane bombing of civilians,” a charge that the Japanese authorities used to justify the denial of POW rights and the imposition of brutal treatment. The Kempeitai, notorious for their cruelty, were given broad discretion to interrogate, punish, and dispose of these prisoners as they saw fit.
Hanley’s Experience as a Special Prisoner
Hanley was acutely aware of his precarious status. He was informed that he would be tried and executed for killing innocent women and children, and that “special rules” applied to him and other B-29 crewmen. These rules included:
- Half rations: Special Prisoners received only half the already meager food allotted to regular POWs.
- No medical attention: Wounds and illnesses were left untreated, or, in some cases, deliberately infected.
- No sanitation or hygiene: Prisoners were denied access to bathing, clean clothing, or basic hygiene supplies.
- Physical restraints: Prisoners were often kept handcuffed, blindfolded, and with ropes around their necks.
- Isolation and silence: Communication among prisoners was strictly forbidden, with severe beatings or execution for violators.
Hanley’s cellmates included other American airmen, Japanese communist leaders, and political prisoners. The conditions were appalling: overcrowded, filthy, lice- and flea-infested, with a single bucket for a latrine that was emptied only once per day. The stench of unwashed bodies, infected wounds, and overflowing waste permeated the cells, and prisoners were routinely beaten with bamboo kendo sticks, rifle butts, and subjected to mock executions and psychological torment.
Interrogation, Torture, and Incarceration at Kempeitai Headquarters, Tokyo
The Kempeitai Headquarters
Hanley was incarcerated at the Kempeitai Headquarters in Tokyo, located near the Imperial Palace. The facility included both former horse stalls—converted into overcrowded cells—and basement dungeons, each measuring approximately 5 by 9 feet and holding up to eight prisoners. Prisoners were denied daylight for weeks at a time and were let out only for interrogation, torture, or execution.
Methods of Interrogation and Torture
Interrogations were conducted by high-ranking, English-speaking Japanese officers who sought both military and psychological information. While some questions focused on technical aspects of the B-29 and American bombing tactics, the Japanese were particularly interested in the morale of the American people and their willingness to continue the war. Hanley was asked how he would conduct an invasion of Japan and, following his commander’s advice, fabricated answers designed to mislead his captors.
Torture was routine and brutal. Hanley’s wounds were deliberately targeted, with guards using kendo sticks, sabers, and bayonets to inflict pain. On one occasion, when he complained about the lack of medical care, his wounds were intentionally infected by the prison infirmary staff. Psychological torture included mock executions, sleep deprivation, and threats of imminent death. The notorious Yasuo Kobayashi (“Shorty”) was particularly sadistic, taking pleasure in the suffering of prisoners and personally overseeing many beatings and executions.
Survival Strategies and Psychological Impact
Hanley credited his survival to a combination of faith, willpower, and the ability to mentally detach from his circumstances. He learned to accept and appreciate life, even in the face of constant death and despair. Many prisoners, he observed, died not only from wounds and starvation but from the loss of hope. Hanley’s greatest fear was dying from his infected wounds, but he ultimately survived, albeit at a tremendous physical and psychological cost
Conditions at Tokyo Prison and Camp Omori
Tokyo Military Prison
In May 1945, Hanley and 62 other American prisoners, all B-29 airmen, were transferred to the Tokyo military prison. The facility was overcrowded, unsanitary, and lacked basic necessities. When a B-29 bombing raid set the prison on fire, the Japanese guards abandoned the building, leaving the prisoners locked inside to die. Hanley narrowly escaped death, attributing his survival to luck and determination.
Transfer to Camp Omori
On the night of August 15, 1945, following Emperor Hirohito’s announcement of Japan’s surrender, Hanley and other surviving prisoners were blindfolded, handcuffed, and transported by truck to Tokyo Bay. There, they were ordered to strip and bathe—a shocking experience after months without hygiene. The prisoners were then taken to Camp Omori, a POW camp located on a man-made island in Tokyo Bay.
At Omori, conditions improved markedly. Although Hanley and other Special Prisoners were initially segregated with barbed wire, they received food, medical attention, and clothing from other prisoners. Navy and Marine aircraft began dropping supplies—candy, gum, cigarettes, and food—by parachute. For the first time in months, Hanley felt a glimmer of hope and the prospect of survival.
Life at Camp Omori
Camp Omori was notorious for its harsh treatment of prisoners, but compared to the Kempeitai dungeons, it was a “country club.” Prisoners were allowed to talk, bathe, and exercise. The camp housed a diverse population of Allied POWs, including notable figures such as Marine ace Gregory “Pappy” Boyington and Olympic runner Louis Zamperini. The camaraderie and mutual support among prisoners played a crucial role in their recovery and morale.
Medical Treatment, Wounds, and Survival
Physical Condition at Liberation
By the time of his liberation, Hanley weighed just 70 pounds, having lost nearly half his body weight due to starvation, disease, and untreated wounds. He suffered from dozens of shrapnel wounds, many of which remained in his body for the rest of his life. The lack of medical care, combined with deliberate infection and malnutrition, left him in a precarious state.
Medical Evacuation and Recovery
On August 29, 1945, U.S. Marines liberated Camp Omori. Hanley, due to his serious condition, was among the first prisoners evacuated to the USS Benevolence (AH-13), a hospital ship anchored in Tokyo Bay. There, he received immediate medical attention: he was stripped, deloused, examined, and treated by Navy nurses. The experience of clean uniforms, proper food, and compassionate care was overwhelming after months of deprivation.
After initial stabilization, Hanley was transferred to a destroyer and then flown to a hospital in Okinawa. Persistent fever delayed his discharge, but he eventually convinced the doctors to release him. He was flown to Hawaii, then to Letterman Hospital in San Francisco, where he finally reestablished contact with his family. The Red Cross assisted in notifying his relatives, and Hanley was granted emergency leave to visit his dying father in San Antonio, Texas, arriving home in October 1945.
Liberation and Repatriation
The Liberation of Camp Omori
The liberation of Camp Omori was a moment of profound relief and joy for Hanley and his fellow prisoners. On August 28, a Marine fighter plane dropped a note into the camp: “Tomorrow you will be liberated.” The following day, six landing craft flying American flags approached the island, and heavily armed Marines took control of the camp without resistance. The Japanese guards were arrested, and the prisoners were processed for evacuation.
Post-Liberation Recovery and Later Life
Psychological and Physical Recovery
The scars of Hanley’s ordeal were not limited to his body. He suffered from nightmares, insomnia, and symptoms of what would later be recognized as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). To cope with these memories, Hanley began writing a daily journal, which eventually formed the basis of his memoir, “Accused American War Criminal.” The act of writing proved therapeutic, allowing him to process and ultimately “bury” the stress of his experiences.
Career and Family
After his discharge in July 1946, Hanley returned to Fort Worth and began a long and successful career as an engineer with Convair (later General Dynamics and Lockheed Martin). He contributed to the development of advanced aircraft, including the B-36, B-58, and the F-16 Fighting Falcon, as well as NASA’s Saturn V moon rocket. Hanley married Betty Baker, an American Airlines stewardess, in 1947, and together they raised three children. He remained active in veterans’ organizations, wrote two books, and lectured widely on his wartime experiences.
Reflections and Legacy
Hanley’s reflections on his wartime ordeal are marked by a sense of survival, resilience, and a commitment to bearing witness. He participated in war crimes trials against the Kempeitai, providing testimony that contributed to the prosecution of Japanese officers responsible for the abuse and execution of Allied prisoners. Despite his suffering, Hanley expressed a willingness to forgive, working with Japanese colleagues in his postwar career and even returning to Japan as part of reconciliation efforts.
Hanley lived to the age of 100, passing away in August 2020. He was honored as a distinguished alumnus of Texas Tech University and remembered as one of the few survivors of the Kempeitai’s Special Prisoner system—a living testament to the extremes of human cruelty and endurance.
Survival Rates
The treatment of B-29 airmen was characterized by systematic brutality.
The survival rate for Special Prisoners was less than 5 percent; Hanley was one of only two survivors from his crew and among a handful from his mission.
War Crimes Trials and Justice
After the war, the U.S. Army conducted extensive investigations into the treatment of Allied POWs in Japan. The Yokohama War Crimes Trials prosecuted hundreds of Japanese officers and guards for crimes against prisoners, including torture, execution, and medical experimentation. Notable convictions included Yasuo Kobayashi (“Shorty”), who received a 40-year sentence, and Colonel Kaijiro Otani, commander of the Tokyo Kempeitai HQ, who was sentenced to 10 years. Many sentences were later commuted or reduced as the U.S. sought to rebuild Japan as a Cold War ally.
Crew Members and Fellow Prisoners
The Crew of the “Stork Club Boys”
Hanley’s B-29, known as the “Stork Club Boys,” was piloted by 1st Lt. John A. Brown and included co-pilot Albert H. Andrews, navigator Baxter James Love Jr., bombardier LeRoy Francis Rose, and several others. Of the crew, only Hanley and Andrews survived the shoot-down and subsequent imprisonment. The rest perished in the crash or were killed by Japanese forces. The remains of eight crew members were later interred in a common grave at Zachary Taylor National Cemetery.
Fellow Special Prisoners
Hanley’s cellmates included other B-29 airmen, Japanese political prisoners, and, at times, Japanese communists. The bonds formed in captivity were crucial to survival, providing emotional support and a sense of solidarity in the face of overwhelming adversity. After the war, Hanley maintained contact with several fellow survivors, sharing memories and participating in commemorative events.
Conclusion
Fiske Hanley II’s World War II experience encapsulates the extremes of twentieth-century warfare: the technological marvel and destructive power of the B-29, the moral ambiguities of strategic bombing, the savagery of captivity, and the enduring quest for justice and reconciliation. His survival as a “Special Prisoner” of the Kempeitai was an exception in a system designed to ensure that none would return. Through his testimony, writings, and public engagement, Hanley bore witness to the suffering of his comrades and the capacity of the human spirit to endure and transcend unimaginable adversity.
Hanley’s legacy endures not only in the historical record but in the lessons his story imparts: the necessity of upholding the laws of war, the dangers of dehumanization, and the importance of remembrance and accountability. His life after the war—marked by professional achievement, family, and a commitment to what was it like there.
It was a nightmare — a deliberate system of starvation, torture, humiliation, and sensory deprivation.
What the cells were like:
- Dark, airless, and foul‑smelling
- Packed with prisoners, many of them dying
- No bedding, only a bare floor
- Infested with lice and fleas
- Human waste often left in the cell
Prisoners were kept in conditions deliberately designed to break them physically and psychologically.
The Food — or Lack of It
As a “Special Prisoner,” Hanley was not treated as a POW.
He was considered subhuman and given half of the already‑starvation‑level POW rations.
Daily intake
- A few mouthfuls of watery rice
- Occasional rotten vegetables
- Almost no protein
- Water sometimes contaminated
Starvation was intentional — many prisoners died simply because their bodies shut down.
The Treatment: Systematic Torture
The Kempeitai were infamous for cruelty, and Hanley’s experience confirms this.
He was beaten, humiliated, and tortured daily for months.
His main tormentor.
Prisoners called one guard “Shorty” — a small man known for extreme brutality.
Shorty:
- Beat prisoners for sport
- Inflicted pain to “break” them
- Took pleasure in humiliating captives
Hanley later said Shorty’s sadism was “demonic.”
The Psychological Atmosphere
Hanley was told repeatedly that he would be:
- Tried as a war criminal
- Executed
- Denied POW protections
The Japanese considered B‑29 crewmen responsible for the firebombing of their cities.
They were singled out for special hatred.
What this meant emotionally:
- Constant fear of execution
- Isolation from other Americans
- No news of the war
- No idea if anyone knew he was alive
He later said his faith in God was the only thing that kept him from losing hope.
Sounds:
- Screams from other prisoners
- Boots of guards running down corridors
- Keys rattling
- Occasional gunshots
- The distant rumble of American bombers overhead
Smells:
- Human waste
- Rotting food
- Sweat and unwashed bodies
- Mold and damp stone
It was a place designed to crush the human spirit.
Transfer to Camp Omori
Only after the atomic bombings and Japan’s impending surrender was Hanley moved to Camp Omori, a more conventional POW camp on Tokyo Bay.
Compared to the dungeon:
- He saw daylight
- He received slightly more food
- He was among other Allied prisoners
- He could sense the war was ending
He was liberated on 29 August 1945.
Hanley survived conditions that killed most men.
He later said he lived only because of:
- His faith
- His will to survive
- Sheer luck
His story is one of the most extreme survival accounts of any American airman in WWII.
A Tribute to Fiske Hanley II
B‑29 Flight Engineer • “Special Prisoner” Survivor • Witness to History
Fiske Hanley II stood among the rarest of men — one who walked through the deepest shadows of war and emerged with his humanity, his faith, and his dignity intact.
Born with a love of flight and a mind built for engineering, he answered his nation’s call during World War II and became a B‑29 Flight Engineer with the 504th Bombardment Group. His skill, discipline, and quiet courage helped carry America’s newest and most advanced bomber into the heart of the Pacific war.
But it was not the missions he completed that defined him.
It was the one he did not return from.
Shot down over Japan in March 1945, Fiske entered a world few Americans ever saw and even fewer survived. Classified by the Kempeitai as a “Special Prisoner,” he was denied the protections of a POW and subjected to conditions designed to break the body and extinguish the spirit.
He endured starvation, beatings, isolation, and the constant threat of execution.
He lived in darkness — literally and spiritually — in a dungeon beneath Tokyo where hope was a fragile, flickering thing.
And yet he held on.
He held on to faith.
He held on to the belief that his life still had purpose.
He held on to the quiet strength that had carried him into the skies.
When liberation finally came in August 1945, Fiske Hanley emerged not as a victim, but as a witness — a man who had seen the worst of war and chose to spend the rest of his life telling the truth so that others might understand the cost of freedom.
He returned home, rebuilt his health, and rebuilt his life.
He honored the memory of those who did not survive by living with gratitude, humility, and purpose.
He shared his story not for recognition, but for remembrance — so that future generations would know what courage looks like when everything else is stripped away.
Fiske Hanley II’s legacy is not only one of survival, but of testimony.
He stands as a reminder that even in the darkest places, the human spirit can endure.
His life is a tribute to resilience, to faith, and to the unbreakable will of a man who refused to surrender his soul.
Today, we honor him —
for the missions he flew,
for the suffering he endured,
for the truth he carried home,
and for the light he left behind.
May his story continue to inspire courage.
May his endurance continue to teach strength.
May his legacy continue to speak for those who never returned.
The Legacy He Carried Home
When Fiske Hanley returned from the war, he carried with him not only the scars of captivity but a profound sense of purpose. He built a life grounded in gratitude, family, and service.
He honored the memory of those who never returned by living fully — with humility, faith, and a deep appreciation for every day he was given.
He shared his story so that families, communities, and future generations would understand the cost of freedom and the resilience of the human spirit.
His life became a bridge between the past and the present — a reminder that courage is not only found in battle, but in survival, testimony, and truth.
His family carries forward a legacy of strength, remembrance, and honor.
Legacy
There are lives remembered for what they achieved, and lives remembered for what they overcame.
The legacy of Lt. Fiske Hanley II is both — a story of extraordinary service, unimaginable suffering, and a return to life defined by love, community, and purpose.
From his earliest years, Fiske carried a quiet determination. A Texas boy with a fascination for airplanes and a gift for engineering, he grew into a young man shaped by family values, faith, and a deep sense of responsibility. When his nation called during World War II, he stepped forward without hesitation, becoming a B‑29 Flight Engineer with the 504th Bombardment Group. He served with skill, humility, and unwavering devotion to the men beside him.
But the defining chapter of his life began the day his aircraft fell from the sky.
Shot down over Japan in March 1945, Fiske entered a world few Americans ever saw and even fewer survived. Classified by the Kempeitai as a “Special Prisoner,” he was stripped of every protection and thrown into a Tokyo dungeon designed to break the human spirit.
He endured starvation, beatings, disease, and the constant threat of execution.
He lived in darkness — literally and spiritually — with no certainty he would ever see home again.
And yet, he held on.
He held on to faith, the one light his captors could not extinguish.
He held on to the memory of family, whose love gave him strength.
He held on to the thought of friends and community, waiting for him on the other side of the war.
He held on to the bond of other airmen, many of whom never returned.
When liberation finally came in August 1945, Fiske emerged not only alive, but determined to live with purpose. He returned home to a family who embraced him, friends who stood by him, and a community that welcomed him with open arms. He rebuilt his life with gratitude, humility, and a profound appreciation for every day he was given.
Fiske became a man who valued relationships deeply:
Family was his anchor — the people whose love reminded him why he fought and why he survived.
Friends became his circle of joy, sharing laughter, stories, and the everyday moments he once feared he would never experience again.
His community became the place where he invested his time, his wisdom, and his heart.
Lt. Fiske Hanley II’s greatest pride was not only surviving the unimaginable, but building a family rooted in love, resilience, and faith. After returning home from the war and rebuilding his life with quiet determination, he and his wife raised a family that became the heart of his purpose and joy.
Fiske was blessed with children who became the living proof of his resilience.
They grew up knowing their father had endured horrors he rarely spoke of, yet what they felt from him was gentleness, steadiness, and a quiet strength that anchored their world.
He taught them that faith carries a man through the darkest valleys. Humility is a greater honor than any medal, and that love is shown in the way you show up, day after day.
Fiske’s children and grandchildren are the continuation of a story that began in fire and ended in grace.
They carry his courage, his humility, his faith, and his deep appreciation for the simple gift of being alive.
His family is his greatest legacy — the one he cherished above all others. They were his pride, his purpose, and the reason he thanked the Lord for every sunrise.
Other veterans became his brothers — men who understood sacrifice, service, and the unspoken bond of survival.
He honored them all by living with integrity and purpose.
Fiske knew that many who shared his fate never came home.
He carried their memory with reverence, and he spoke for them — not for recognition, but for truth.
He became a witness to history, a guardian of memory, and a voice for those who could not speak.
He told his story so that families would understand the cost of freedom, so that communities would never forget the sacrifices made on their behalf, and so that other veterans would know they were not alone.
His legacy is not defined solely by what he endured, but by the life he built afterward — a life filled with gratitude, service, connection, and love.
He leaves behind a family who carries his courage forward. Friends who were shaped by his kindness and wisdom. A community strengthened by his presence.
Veterans who found comfort in his honesty and brotherhood with a world that remembers because he chose to speak.
Fiske dedicated his post‑war life to telling the truth about the brutality he survived and the courage of those who did not return. His testimony stands as a powerful reminder of the cost of freedom and the strength of the human spirit.
This is the legacy of Lt. Fiske Hanley II —
A legacy of faith, resilience, community, and love.
A legacy that proves the human spirit cannot be broken.
A legacy that will continue to shine for generations.