German POWs in Japan During the First World War
A little-known chapter of World War I: the story of over 4,500 German POWs held in Japan, their surprisingly humane treatment, and the cultural ties they forged with local communities.
Much is known about the First World War, and its causes and developments are still the subject of frequent debate. Understandably, most of the attention focuses almost exclusively on the European front, where the bloodiest battles were fought. Yet the war was also waged in the East, an aspect of the conflict that remains largely unknown.
Even less well known is the story of the approximately 4,700 German prisoners of war captured by the Japanese during the conquest of the colonial enclave of Tsingtao in China. These men spent the war years — and in some cases even longer — in sixteen prison camps scattered throughout Japan. Contrary to what one might expect, in most cases the prisoners were met with curiosity and friendship by the local population: there was no hostility between the two peoples, but rather a mutual sympathy that dated back to the second half of the 19th century.
The Origins of a Friendship
The first official contact between Japan and Prussia dates back to 1860, with the unexpected arrival of the German ship SMS Frauenlob in Yokohama, under the command of Count Friedrich Albrecht zu Eulenburg. This event marked the beginning of diplomatic and commercial relations between the two countries. In 1861, a treaty of friendship — the last of the so-called “unequal treaties” imposed on Japan by Western powers — was signed with Prussia.
With the accession of Emperor Meiji in 1868, Japan embarked on a radical program of reform and modernization. Prussia, a young power rapidly rising thanks to authoritarian domestic policies and aggressive foreign expansion, quickly became a model to follow. After Prussia’s victory over France in 1871, Tokyo abandoned the French model and adopted the German one to reform its newly established imperial army.
German influence, however, was not limited to the military sphere. Medicine, philosophy, education, economics, and law were all profoundly shaped by Prussian models. Many young Japanese were sent to study in Germany, while numerous German scholars were invited to teach in Japan. Two German jurists, Rudolf von Gneist and Lorenz von Stein, also contributed to the drafting of the Meiji Constitution.
The future Emperor Taishō, Yoshihito, son of Emperor Meiji, was an ardent admirer of Kaiser Wilhelm II — so much so that he imitated his clothing and posture, occasionally causing embarrassment at court.
On Opposing Fronts
By the end of the 19th century, however, relations between Japan and Germany began to shift. The two countries found themselves on opposing sides during Japan’s wars against China (1894–95) and Russia (1904–05). In 1902, Japan signed an important alliance with Great Britain, which was renewed in 1911 and included provisions for mutual military assistance in the event of war. For London, Japan’s growing power was a useful tool to safeguard its interests in Asia.
Japan, in a phase of rapid expansion, aimed to consolidate its status as a modern power within the international community. After the Meiji reforms and its military victories over China and Russia, failing to honor the alliance with Britain would have been seen as a step backward. Moreover, Germany — with few colonies and only a modest military presence in Asia — posed a far smaller threat than the British Empire.
Within just a few months, Germany’s possessions in the Far East had been seized. By the end of 1914, Japan had completed its brief but effective military participation in the war against the Central Powers.
On June 28, 1914, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife Sophie in Sarajevo, by Gavrilo Princip, provided the pretext for the outbreak of the global conflict.
In Japan, there were political, military, and intellectual figures who sympathized with Germany and Austria. But the alliance with Britain had to be honored. On August 7, 1914, London formally requested Japan's assistance. The foreign minister, Takaaki Katō — a known Anglophile — agreed to the request, and on August 15 an ultimatum was sent to Berlin. After receiving no response, Japan declared war on Germany on August 23.
Japan, in a phase of vigorous expansion, sought to consolidate its status as a modern power within the international community. After the Meiji reforms and its military victories over China and Russia, failing to honor the agreement with Britain would have been seen as a step backward. Moreover, Germany — with few territories and only a modest military presence in Asia — posed a far smaller threat than the British Empire.
Within just a few months, Germany’s possessions in East Asia were conquered. By the end of 1914, Japan had already concluded its brief but effective military contribution to the war against the Central Powers.
A Thorny Issue: The German Prisoners
There remained, however, the issue of the prisoners: around 4,700 men, mostly Germans, but also Austrians, Hungarians, Czechs, Poles, and others. They were distributed across sixteen prison camps in various parts of Japan, where they remained until 1920.
At the time, the treatment of prisoners of war was governed by the Hague Convention of 1907, which Japan had also signed, on January 13, 1912. One of its main provisions was the obligation to treat prisoners “humanely.” Eager to prove itself on par with the great Western powers in this respect as well, Japan enforced these rules scrupulously when dealing with German prisoners. There were no reports of systematic abuse or forced labor in the camps.
The most serious incident — which, in itself, illustrates the general respect for the rules — occurred on November 15, 1915, in the Kurume camp in Fukuoka Prefecture. On the occasion of the coronation of the new Emperor Taishō (Yoshihito), each prisoner was given a bottle of beer and an apple. Two German officers refused the gift, stating that the two countries were at war. The camp commander, Masaki Jinzaburō, reacted impulsively and slapped them. The prisoners strongly protested, citing a violation of the Hague Convention and requesting the intervention of the (then neutral) American embassy. The incident drew some attention, and Masaki was removed from his post. It should be noted, however, that such episodes were rare and mostly minor in nature. Apart from the occasional quarrel with guards, actual abuse was virtually nonexistent.
In fact, cordial relationships were not uncommon between prisoners and Japanese officers. Lieutenant Yamamoto Shigeru, for example — who had studied in Germany and spoke fluent German — exchanged language lessons with a prisoner in Kurume: German in return for Japanese.
Some articles of the Hague Convention now seem almost quaint. Article 10, for instance, allowed for the release of prisoners who signed a document pledging not to return to military service once repatriated. Several Germans held in Japan were released under this clause.
Article 16 guaranteed the free exchange of correspondence. Prisoners could send and receive letters from Germany, as well as communicate between different camps. Officers were allowed to write up to five letters per month; ordinary soldiers, two or three. Correspondence with the homeland was very active, and many of these letters are now preserved in private collections.
Even pay was provided. Prisoners received a monthly stipend, which they could use to buy food or basic necessities. The amount varied by rank: from 183 yen per month for officers to 30 sen for regular soldiers. A more than respectable wage, considering that the average Japanese worker earned about 40 yen per month.
Work was available for those who wished to take it, but it was never compulsory. Nor was it humiliating or demeaning: many prisoners worked on farms, in bakeries, mechanical workshops, or were employed making sausages or installing boilers. These were often skilled jobs and offered an opportunity to leave the camp and observe daily life in Japan. Some, after the war ended, continued to work in Japan — sometimes earning salaries as high as 300 yen per month.
The only obligations imposed on the prisoners were attending morning and evening roll call. Beyond that, they were free to manage their time as they wished. For those who did not work outside the camp, boredom was the real enemy. To counter it, prisoners created a lively community life: sports tournaments, theatrical performances, concerts, lectures, and even craft activities.
The Case of the Bandō Camp
Among the various prison camps, one became particularly well known: the Bandō camp, located in Naruto, Tokushima Prefecture. Life there was almost idyllic. The camp commander, Matsue Toyohisa, was a descendant of a samurai family from Aizu, which had fought on the side of the Tokugawa shogunate against Emperor Meiji during the Boshin War (1868–1869). The defeat of his clan may have made him more empathetic toward the “defeated” of history.
According to Masashi Nakano, curator of the museum dedicated to the Bandō camp, Matsue used to say that the Japanese and the Germans were fighting for their respective countries — not against each other. For this reason, he ordered the prisoners to be treated with the utmost respect, even against the will of the central government in Tokyo, which repeatedly criticized his “excessive leniency.”
At Bandō, the prisoners enjoyed a degree of freedom truly unusual for wartime detainees. They were even allowed to take excursions in the surrounding area and go boating. They formed an orchestra and, between 1917 and 1920, gave around a hundred concerts. The most famous took place on June 1, 1918, when Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony was performed for the first time in Japan. Since then, the event has been commemorated every year with a concert held on the first Sunday of June in the city of Naruto.
About a thousand prisoners lived in the camp. Compared to other camps throughout Japan, their stay was notably peaceful — as much as captivity can be. Football matches, concerts, and picnics were organized. With permission from the Japanese authorities, the prisoners managed to recreate a small corner of Germany: traditional food, European-style bars, philosophy and literature classes, bowling and billiards, day trips, theater performances, homemade cookies, and even a hot spring bath.
Prisoners also had the right to start small craft businesses. Many resumed the trades they had practiced before the war: shoemakers, tailors, photographers, teachers, carpenters. In this remarkably open and collaborative environment, there was only one escape attempt during the entire period of internment.
Over time, a genuine bond of friendship developed between the German prisoners and the villagers of Naruto. At first, the locals looked on with some apprehension at these tall, blond, light-eyed men who appeared so different from themselves. But gradually, suspicion gave way to curiosity — and then to affection.
The Doitsu-san — “German gentlemen,” as they were affectionately called — returned the kindness by teaching the Japanese how to produce dairy products, bake bread, build Western-style houses, and even construct stone bridges.
It is a cultural legacy that can still be felt today when walking through the streets of Naruto.
Author: Cristiano Suriani
Sources and further reading:
Japanese POW camp was a little slice of home (Taipei Times)
A Forgotten Tale of World War I: Life for German POWs in Japanese Camps (Nippon.com)
Prisoners of the Empire - Inside Japanese POW Camps (Sarah Kovner)
Mutual Perceptions and Images in Japanese-German Relations, 1860-2010 (Brill's Japanese Studies Library, Volume 59)