Visas for Life: An excerpt from the book by Yukiko Sugihara - Part 2
Susan Yee 5/2003

Chiune Sugihara was a Japanese diplomat living in Kaunas, Lithuania with his wife and children during the early years of World War II. In defiance of direct orders from his superiors in Japan, he chose to issue visas to Jewish refugees, allowing them to flee from increasing Nazi persecution. As a result of his actions, Sugihara threw away a promising career in the Japanese foreign ministry, but never once did he regret it.  “I may have to disobey my government, but if I don’t, I will be disobeying God.” It wasn’t until years later did he learn that his visas saved the lives of thousands of Jews. Since then, he has been honored around the world as one of the “Righteous Among Nations.” He passed away in 1986, but his legacy lives on through the hard work of his family and the families of the survivors who received his visas.

The following is an excerpt from the book about his life, Visas for Life, which was written by his wife, Yukiko.

For close to one month, Chiune sat unwavering for endless hours signing visas. From eight in the morning until late at night. Day after day for four weeks, he handwrote and signed the visas. Chiune wanted to write hundreds of visas a day, which normally would be more than one month’s work for an entire consulate.

When people began climbing the fence to get into the compound, the staff had to go out and calm them down. Chiune reassured the people that as long as there was a single person left, he would not abandon them...

Each day’s work left him drained and exhausted. Each visa was a lengthy document, comparable to writing two or three full paragraphs. After a long day, he went straight to bed. As he fell asleep, I massaged his arm, which was stiff and cramped from writing. Throughout this ordeal he continued his routine of rising early in the morning. Many people stood outside the consulate from morning until night waiting for visas. It was freezing at night, but many people slept in the adjacent park to ensure a spot near the front of the line. Chiune continued to write out visas with a determined resolve to issue as many visas as possible...

One woman knelt down and kissed Chiune’s feet when she received her visa. In gratitude, a businessman from Warsaw offered his technical knowledge and funds to Japanese companies. These gestures of appreciation inspired in Chiune a drive to continue issuing more visas.

Originally, Chiune numbered the visas and kept a list. Later he realized that would slow him down and reduce the total number of visas he could write. So he stopped numbering the visas and he also stopped charging the nominal fee. He also stopped interviewing the refugees. Chiune wanted to speed up the process in every possible way. He also worried that the Soviet occupation of Lithuania might prevent the exchange of Lithuanian currency into US dollars. He wired the visa fees to the accounts section of the Foreign Ministry in Japan via the Lithuanian National Bank.

This routine continued for nearly a month. During that month, the Soviet government repeatedly insisted that Chiune leave Kaunas. My husband ignored these orders and continued issuing visas. Chiune also ignored orders from the Japanese Foreign Ministry, which were sent on August 2, to close and vacate the consulate. He continued issuing visas. He requested and received the Soviet Embassy’s permission to remain in Kaunas until the end of August 1940.

There in the crowd
Waiting for visas
Is a boy
Clutching his father ever so tightly
His face is dirty

Chiune continued issuing visas at the consulate until August 28. The Soviets were now pressuring us and demanding that we leave. When an urgent telegram came from the Japanese Foreign Ministry, demanding that Chiune close the consulate and leave immediately for Berlin, he realized that we really had to leave. The telegram read, “Lithuania is occupied by the Soviet Union It is no longer an independent country.”

Chiune continued issuing visas until the last minute, as he gave orders and instructions about locking the doors and packing our bags. As I was packing, I smelled something burning. The smoke was coming out of his basement office. In a panic, I screamed Chiune’s name as I desperately pounded on his office door. He quickly appeared and said, “don’t worry I am just putting some papers in order.” He was actually burning all of his confidential documents before the Soviets could confiscate them.

Time ran out. I will never forget the look of despair on the faces of the Jews who did not get visas as we left our consulate. Tears welled up in my eyes and I apologized to them in my mind as I asked for their forgiveness. Before continuing on our journey by train, we stayed in the center of town at the Hotel Metropolis in order to allow my exhausted husband some time to rest. Before we left the consulate, Chiune put up a notice on the gate telling people where we could be located. Many Jews came to the hotel, desperate for visas. Chiune continued to issue visas to the refugees from the hotel lobby...

We stayed at the hotel until the end of August which was the deadline designated by the Soviets.

To the very last minute, Chiune continued issuing permission papers in the lobby. As he prepared to depart, he said, “please forgive me. I cannot write anymore. I wish you the best.” Then, he bowed deeply to the people before him. They stood frozen before our eyes, as all hope faded from their faces...