白きマフラーに託して　～この白が彼の首元で揺れるなら、離れていても心は一緒だと信じ～

【曲のテーマ】
「知覧の特攻兵の手紙」から
知覧の特攻兵には、大学時代に将来を約束した婚約者がいました。彼は出撃前に、彼女からマフラーを贈られました。「神聖な帽子や剣にはなりたくないが、替われるものならあの白いマフラーのように、いつも離れられない存在になりたい」という彼女の一途な思いに応え、彼はそのマフラーを彼女の身代わりとして、首に巻いて出撃しました。」
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この出来事を、戦後80年ということで、少しでもこの出来事が残って、戦争の無意味さと平和のありがたさを伝えていけたらと思います。
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鹿児島・知覧の冬は、手のひらまで冷たくする。彼女は、机に広げた白い毛糸を指先でたぐり寄せ、静かに編み針を動かしていた。彼と過ごした大学の日々、笑い合った声や、夕暮れの帰り道の背中を思い出しながら、一目一目を結ぶ。完成したマフラーを胸に抱くと、ふと涙がこぼれそうになった。
「神聖な帽子や剣にはなりたくない。でも、替われるなら、このマフラーのように、ずっとそばに…」便箋にそう書き添え、そっと包みに収める。自分は出撃の日に彼を見送る勇気がない。それでも、この白が彼の首元で揺れるなら、離れていても心は一緒だと信じられる。
数日後、彼が受け取ったと知らせる短い手紙が届いた。その文字の端に、かすかににじんだ跡があり、彼もまた笑顔の奥で何かをこらえていると感じた。
その朝、遠くで響くエンジン音に、胸がきしむ。空を見上げれば、冬の陽光を受けてひとすじの白が舞い上がるような気がした。それが幻でも、彼が最後まで私を感じてくれている証だと、智恵子は静かに目を閉じた。
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From “The Letter of a Kamikaze Pilot from Chiran”

There was a kamikaze pilot from Chiran who had a fiancée with whom he had promised a future together during their university days. Before his sortie, she gave him a scarf.
“I do not wish to be a sacred cap or a sword, but if I could, I would want to be like this white scarf—always close to you,” she wrote, expressing her unwavering devotion. In response to her heartfelt wish, he wore the scarf around his neck as if it were her in place, and flew off on his mission.

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Eighty years after the war, I hope that this story will remain, even in a small way, to convey both the futility of war and the preciousness of peace.

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In Chiran, Kagoshima, the winter chill seeps into one’s very palms. She gathered the spread-out white yarn on her desk with her fingertips, quietly moving her knitting needles.
As she knitted each stitch, memories of their university days together came back—his laughter, the sound of their voices, and the sight of his back as they walked home at sunset.
When the scarf was finished, she held it to her chest, and tears nearly welled up.

“I do not wish to be a sacred cap or a sword. But if I could, I would want to be like this scarf, always by your side…” she added on a sheet of stationery, then gently placed it in the wrapping. She didn’t have the courage to see him off on the day of his sortie. Even so, she believed that if this white scarf swayed at his neck, they would remain connected, no matter the distance.

A few days later, a short letter arrived saying he had received it. At the edge of his handwriting was the faint mark of a smudge, and she felt that, behind his smile, he too was holding something back.

That morning, the sound of engines roaring far away made her chest ache. Looking up at the sky, she thought she saw a single streak of white rising, catching the winter sunlight. Even if it was only an illusion, to her it was proof that he had felt her presence until the very end. Chieko quietly closed her eyes.

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