Lt-Col A. Tack
08-03-2006, 07:32 PM
Foreign legionnaire proves young Japanese can still tough it out (http://mdn.mainichi-msn.co.jp/waiwai/news/20060729p2g00m0dm016000c.html)
By Masuo Kamiyama, People's Pick contributor
July 29, 2006
When I was little, all I was interested in was motorcycles," Harunobu Yaegashi, now 33, tells Weekly Playboy (8/7). "I gave my family and the cops a hard time. But now, compared with 12 years ago, I've become a completely different person."
Yaegashi, a native of Iwate Prefecture, made it as far as middle school, before becoming a hot rodder. But all that seems like another lifetime ago. Today, he's one of only about 7,700 proud wearers of the Kepi Blanc, as the traditional white cap worn with the dress uniform of the French Foreign Legion is called.
In a country where overprotected males -- nerdy "otaku," semi-employed "freeters" and NEETs who do practically nothing at all -- Yaegashi's motivation to live an exciting life certainly marks him as different.
"Well, I'd always wanted to go overseas, feeling that if I went, something good might come of it," Yaegashi, whose rank is Caporal-chef (senior corporal), relates. "Of course, I supposed I would just have some sort of ordinary experience."
But on a whim while visting Paris in 1993 -- and not able to speak so much as one word of French -- he signed on with the French Foreign Legion.
Seventeen grueling weeks of basic training were to follow.
"Quite a few recruits went over the wall and deserted," he recalls. "We weren't allowed any outside contacts, no phones, no TV. But it was the marches that were the worst. We'd hike 10 to 20 kilometers every day, with over 15 kilograms of gear on our backs. It was a pretty effective way of weeding out the ones who couldn't hack it!"
Other training tasks included teams made to shoulder heavy logs up steep hills and swimming in frigid rivers in the cold of winter. Recruits could be roused from slumber at any time in the middle of the night for an unanticipated roll call.
"We really had it rough," he recalls. "I couldn't speak any French, so I couldn't understand officer's commands. But most of the others were the same boat."
After basic, Yaegashi was assigned to the 2nd Foreign Parachute Regiment, where he spent the next seven years, including a stint in Djibouti, on the Horn of Africa. From the desert, his next assignment was two years in the jungles of French Guyana, in South America. While there, he spent 10 days undergoing jungle survival training, in a program called CEFE, that requires participants to survive for three days in the wilds with nothing except matches and a knife.
A superior, impressed by his fortitude, invited Yaegashi to join an elite unit called Detachement d'Intervention Operationnelle Subaquatique (DINOPS), a parachute trained combat diver unit that conducts underwater explosive ordnance disposal, beach reconnaissance, sabotage attacks and assists in river crossings. The unit had distinguished itself on the battlefield in the 1991 Gulf War, in support of America's 82nd Airborne Division.
"A lot of times there's nothing for us to do," he says with a wide grin. "I'd only gone as far as middle school, so if I'd stayed in Japan, I'd probably have trouble finding work now. At least the Legion seems to be popular with local French civilians, thanks to our help during floods and natural disasters. Some had grumbled we were just a waste of tax money, but after that, they demonstrated their gratitude. It was a good feeling."
Yaegashi tells Weekly Playboy he generally detests the typical Japanese exhortations for "konjo" (tenacity, persistence) and "doryoku" (endeavor).
"If anything I'm the opposite of that," he chuckles. "It didn't especially help that I'd been a wild kid, but I think belonging to the legion helped straighten me out."
Rather, he's somebody who's proved himself to be adaptable, and good at getting a job done.
"Whatever else you want to think, I'm certainly not a superman," he asserts. "I think anybody can do what I've done, if they try hard enough."
After three more years in the legion, Caporal-chef Yaegashi will eligible for a retirement pension.
By Masuo Kamiyama, People's Pick contributor
July 29, 2006
When I was little, all I was interested in was motorcycles," Harunobu Yaegashi, now 33, tells Weekly Playboy (8/7). "I gave my family and the cops a hard time. But now, compared with 12 years ago, I've become a completely different person."
Yaegashi, a native of Iwate Prefecture, made it as far as middle school, before becoming a hot rodder. But all that seems like another lifetime ago. Today, he's one of only about 7,700 proud wearers of the Kepi Blanc, as the traditional white cap worn with the dress uniform of the French Foreign Legion is called.
In a country where overprotected males -- nerdy "otaku," semi-employed "freeters" and NEETs who do practically nothing at all -- Yaegashi's motivation to live an exciting life certainly marks him as different.
"Well, I'd always wanted to go overseas, feeling that if I went, something good might come of it," Yaegashi, whose rank is Caporal-chef (senior corporal), relates. "Of course, I supposed I would just have some sort of ordinary experience."
But on a whim while visting Paris in 1993 -- and not able to speak so much as one word of French -- he signed on with the French Foreign Legion.
Seventeen grueling weeks of basic training were to follow.
"Quite a few recruits went over the wall and deserted," he recalls. "We weren't allowed any outside contacts, no phones, no TV. But it was the marches that were the worst. We'd hike 10 to 20 kilometers every day, with over 15 kilograms of gear on our backs. It was a pretty effective way of weeding out the ones who couldn't hack it!"
Other training tasks included teams made to shoulder heavy logs up steep hills and swimming in frigid rivers in the cold of winter. Recruits could be roused from slumber at any time in the middle of the night for an unanticipated roll call.
"We really had it rough," he recalls. "I couldn't speak any French, so I couldn't understand officer's commands. But most of the others were the same boat."
After basic, Yaegashi was assigned to the 2nd Foreign Parachute Regiment, where he spent the next seven years, including a stint in Djibouti, on the Horn of Africa. From the desert, his next assignment was two years in the jungles of French Guyana, in South America. While there, he spent 10 days undergoing jungle survival training, in a program called CEFE, that requires participants to survive for three days in the wilds with nothing except matches and a knife.
A superior, impressed by his fortitude, invited Yaegashi to join an elite unit called Detachement d'Intervention Operationnelle Subaquatique (DINOPS), a parachute trained combat diver unit that conducts underwater explosive ordnance disposal, beach reconnaissance, sabotage attacks and assists in river crossings. The unit had distinguished itself on the battlefield in the 1991 Gulf War, in support of America's 82nd Airborne Division.
"A lot of times there's nothing for us to do," he says with a wide grin. "I'd only gone as far as middle school, so if I'd stayed in Japan, I'd probably have trouble finding work now. At least the Legion seems to be popular with local French civilians, thanks to our help during floods and natural disasters. Some had grumbled we were just a waste of tax money, but after that, they demonstrated their gratitude. It was a good feeling."
Yaegashi tells Weekly Playboy he generally detests the typical Japanese exhortations for "konjo" (tenacity, persistence) and "doryoku" (endeavor).
"If anything I'm the opposite of that," he chuckles. "It didn't especially help that I'd been a wild kid, but I think belonging to the legion helped straighten me out."
Rather, he's somebody who's proved himself to be adaptable, and good at getting a job done.
"Whatever else you want to think, I'm certainly not a superman," he asserts. "I think anybody can do what I've done, if they try hard enough."
After three more years in the legion, Caporal-chef Yaegashi will eligible for a retirement pension.