When you finish reading the following self-description written by Yataro Ueda, a former member of "731", and then read his personal account of what he did when he was serving a sentence in the Fushun War Criminals Management Center on the mainland in 1955, your heart will be shocked by the cruel and evil acts of "731" again:
"In May 1943, I worked as an employee researcher in Unit 731 of the Epidemic Prevention and Water Supply Department of the Kwantung Army in a bungalow outside Harbin. May in North Manchu is still the season of warm and cold, and there are still remnants of snow that have not melted in the depressions everywhere, waiting for the arrival of spring.
On the building of Unit 731, which stands tall, the sun flag is still flying. In one room in seven of the buildings, a terrible murder is going on, and the Chinese who was injected with plague bacteria yesterday is about to take his life today.
"Oops!" His eyes glared hard at the depths of his unquenchable anger, hatred, and dying pain, his hands clutched in the air, and he moaned incessantly, but his strength finally waned. Once they entered, they could never get out, the closed cells, ruthlessly cut them off from the outside world.
On his feet, which were no longer standing, still wore heavy shackles, and whenever he moved his feet, he made a dull sound of "clanging" iron objects colliding. The people in the cell surrounded him, nervously holding their breath, but no one spoke, only the running water of the toilet in the cell, making a terrible noise.
Outside was heavily guarded, with pistol-carrying guards closely watching, and Captain Pengtian was also peeking inside. However, no one minds this dying cry, because it is not surprising that it happens every day.
The guards only need to monitor these 200 Chinese, let them be killed honestly, do not resist, and obediently become substitutes for guinea pigs. If these Chinese try to resist and refuse to be killed honestly, then the guards have the right to kill them on the spot. The gun in the hands of the guards is not only used to scare people, its safety bolt is often open.
The people who are being held here have lost their rights to anyone. Once they entered it, their names became the number of Arabic numerals nailed to their chests and the name "log". We usually say that there are several logs, but we don't know where and how the No. ××× log came from here.
An unkempt, peasant-looking man, malnourished, with prominent cheekbones, wrapped in a ragged cotton coat with only two eyes shining.
Yesterday's results were enough to make the squad leader Mitani military doctor Shaoza overjoyed, the unprecedented infection rate, the typical changes in the blood picture, and also made me enter Building 7 with great expectations for today's blood changes.
Two guards with pistols stood at the door of the cell and watched. I looked inside and saw that ××× was dying. It's terrible if you die! If you die like this, and you can't collect blood, then the important experiments that have been carried out so hard will lose your results.
I panicked and shouted "×××", but when he didn't answer, I used my hand to tell the other 4 people in the same cell: "Pull his hand to the door!" All four of them hesitated and didn't move. I scolded them: "Quick! Fast! Scoundrel! Don't hurry up yet? ”
The guards pointed their pistols at them and threatened them in Chinese. As if determined, they gently lifted the man's paralyzed body up and carried him to the window next to the door. What I needed was not his death itself, but the blood flowing through the body of this "living guinea pig".
The hand that came out of the entrance had turned blue and purple and had become cold. My heart was filled with joy and a sense of victory.
"How the squad leader is eager for this achievement!" Suppressing my indescribable excitement, I picked up the syringe. The syringe "popped" and pierced the elbow vein. Little by little, the black-red blood is sucked into the syringe. 3 ml, 5 ml...... His face grew pale, and he couldn't even hear a moan, except for an insect-like sound in his throat.
Out of unbearable humiliation and anger, his eyes stared at me without blinking. But, for me, none of this matters. "All you need to do is take 10 milliliters of blood." This is the mission of the so-called Joy of the Researcher, and I believe that the pain of man at death is not worthy of sympathy.
I finished processing the blood as quickly as I could, and looked into the cell again, only to see his spasmodic face, twitching slightly, his breathing getting weaker and weaker, and he had entered the Litchinstock breathing state (a breathing state that appeared before death). The people in the same cell who were in the same fate could no longer bear it, so they took water and fed it to their dying compatriots.
Yes! What a tyranny this must be! How many people have ever died for this! How many people's bodies have been devoured by the towering chimneys that never stop emitting black smoke and soaring into the clouds! The precious human life is arbitrarily trampled on as a substitute for the guinea pig and finally becomes a form......
Shiro Ishii, a bacteriological war criminal, once said: "Science has no borders, researchers have a motherland, and they must study for the motherland!" "This deceptive rhetoric of the invaders has captured my human conscience, so that I can now feel a smile of satisfaction when I see a man being killed by cruel means of dehumanization.
Four or five guards opened the cell door with pistols, and there was a heavy thud from the door. They dragged the body out and put it on a trolley.
The people in the same cell seem to have seen that tomorrow awaits their fate, and with their irrepressible anger they look at their recently dead compatriots.
The trolley headed towards the chimney's towering dissection room, and soon vanished. ”
Please always remember this poor compatriot of our Chinese, who is regarded by the devils as a "living guinea pig", whose body is wrapped in a ragged torn cotton coat and whose only two eyes are shining. Remember, it was another pair of sparkling eyes that went out on that murderous day......