[Congressional Record Volume 158, Number 163 (Tuesday, December 18, 2012)]
[Senate]
[Pages S8095-S8097]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                      REMEMBERING DANIEL K. INOUYE

  Mr. REID. Mr. President, I came to the floor yesterday minutes after 
Irene--Senator Inouye's wife--confirmed the death of her husband, my 
friend, a friend of all of us here.
  I was, frankly, very emotional and announced to the Senate and the 
country the death of one of the Senate's all-time greats. So today, 
upon contemplation and reflection, I am going to say a little bit more 
about Senator Inouye.
  His personal friendship I valued so very, very much. He was a 
colleague

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but really a friend. He helped me so many times. He helped me to do my 
best here. My best has been with the help of him.
  As I mentioned briefly yesterday, he always had so much confidence in 
me. Years ago, when I was a Senator struggling, as all Senators here, 
he told me two decades ago I would be running the Senate someday. I 
never even contemplated, thought about, or desired that. Things worked 
out that he was right.
  Senator Inouye, one of the finest men I have ever known, was a real 
American hero. My friend who is on the Senate floor, the assistant 
leader, has heard me talk about my mentor, Michael Callahan, who taught 
me in high school, helped me with money as I was going to law school, 
and he was on a pension. He was a disabled veteran. He was such a good 
friend of mine. He and Senator Inouye were friends. They talked about 
what it is like to not have a limb. While Callahan's was a leg, 
Inouye's was an arm. They talked and they were friends, and Michael 
Callahan worked back here as an aide to Senators Cannon and Bible in 
the summers and got to know Senator Inouye.
  My thoughts are, of course, with his family, including his wife 
Irene, his son Ken, their daughter-in-law Jessica. He has a 
stepdaughter Jennifer, and a granddaughter Maggie, named after, of 
course, his first wife. Their loss is the Nation's loss.
  Last night we lost a noble soul. Dan Inouye lived a long productive 
life. Still, I speak for Dan's Senate family when I say we are 
devastated by his passing. While we will all miss him, his legacy will 
live in the Halls of the Senate and the State of Hawaii as long as 
history is written. His place in the history books will not fade.
  As the second longest serving Senator in our history, Senator 
Inouye's career in Congress spanned the life of Hawaii's statehood. 
Elected to the Senate in 1962, only Robert Byrd served longer. But 
Senator Inouye's tradition of service began long before he came to the 
U.S. Senate.
  He was working as a medical volunteer when Japanese war planes 
attacked Pearl Harbor. He was just a boy, a teenager. From the time he 
was just a kid, he wanted to be a medical doctor. But a different fate 
awaited Dan Inouye.
  After the attack, as we all know too well, Japanese Americans were 
deemed enemy aliens and were therefore not subject to the draft. More 
than 110,000 people of Japanese ancestry were imprisoned in American 
internment camps. We have seen the pictures. We have heard the stories. 
They were in prison. Yet Dan Inouye and other Japanese Americans, in 
spite of the unfair designation of being an enemy alien, volunteered to 
fight for this Nation's freedom overseas, although many of their own 
families were denied freedom at home while they were overseas.
  Senator Inouye fought courageously with the famous 442nd Regimental 
Combat Team in World War II and was grievously wounded in battle in 
Italy.
  A paragraph or two is written about why a Medal of Honor recipient 
was given this award. The words for his Medal of Honor are as follows:

       On April 21, 1945, Inouye was grievously wounded while 
     leading an assault on a heavily-defended ridge near San 
     Terenzo in Tuscany, Italy, called Colle Musatello. The ridge 
     served as a strong-point along the strip of German 
     fortifications known as the Gothic Line, which represented 
     the last and most dogged line of German defensive works in 
     Italy. As he led his platoon in a flanking maneuver, three 
     German machine guns opened fire from covered positions just 
     40 yards away, pinning his men to the ground. Inouye stood up 
     to attack and was shot in the stomach; ignoring his wound, he 
     proceeded to attack and destroy the first machine gun nest 
     with hand grenade and fire from his Thompson submachine gun. 
     After being informed of the severity of his wound by his 
     platoon sergeant, he refused treatment and rallied his men 
     for an attack on the second machine gun position, which he 
     also successfully destroyed before collapsing from blood 
     loss.
       As his squad distracted the third machine gunner, Inouye 
     crawled toward the final bunker, eventually drawing within 10 
     yards. As he raised himself up and cocked his arm to throw 
     his last grenade into the fighting position, a German inside 
     fired a rifle grenade that struck him on the right elbow, 
     severing most of his arm and leaving his own primed grenade 
     reflexively ``clenched in a fist that suddenly didn't belong 
     to me anymore.'' Inouye's horrified soldiers moved to his 
     aid, but he shouted for them to keep back for out of fear his 
     severed fist would involuntarily relax and drop the grenade. 
     As the German inside the bunker reloaded his rifle, Inouye 
     pried the live grenade from his useless right hand and 
     transferred it to his left. As the German aimed his rifle to 
     finish him off, Inouye tossed the grenade off-hand into the 
     bunker and destroyed it. He stumbled to his feet and 
     continued forward, silencing the last German resistance with 
     a one-handed burst from his Thompson before being wounded in 
     the leg tumbling unconscious to the bottom of the ridge. When 
     he awoke to see his concerned men of his platoon hovering 
     over him, his only comment before being carried away was to 
     gruffly order them to return to their positions, since, as he 
     pointed out, ``nobody called off the war!''

  That is the citation on his Medal of Honor.
  His arm was later amputated in a field hospital, and he was sent back 
to the United States to recover. But it took years for him to recover.
  I remember in the LBJ Room over here, after Patty Murray and others 
talked about what a difficult time returning veterans were having from 
Iraq, him talking about some of his experiences. They trained him to 
drive vehicles. He took driver's license tests in more than one State. 
He became very personal and talked about some of the things they taught 
him--missing an arm--that he had to do. It was a remarkable 
presentation that he made.
  Senator Inouye did not talk very much. He was a silent man--did not 
talk very much at all. He had a dynamic voice. We have not felt that 
voice in the last few years because he has not been as powerful as he 
was as he has aged, but what a beautiful voice he had. In that hospital 
they took him to in Michigan, Senator Inouye made two lifelong friends: 
one, Senator Bob Dole who, as we know, became majority leader in the 
Senate and Republican nominee for President of the United States; his 
other lifetime friend the late Senator Phil Hart, who was known as the 
conscience of the Senate. The Hart Building, the massive Senate office 
building, is named after him.
  Asked by his son why, after being classified as an enemy alien, he 
and the members of the famed 442d fought so heroically, Senator Inouye 
said, in his usual calm manner, ``for the children.'' And for the 
children there could be no finer role model than Senator Dan Inouye. He 
was a recipient of the Medal of Honor and the Congressional Gold Medal, 
the highest honor the Congress can bestow. He received the 
Distinguished Service Cross, a Bronze Star for valor and, of course, a 
Purple Heart. Dan Inouye showed the same dedication in Congress that he 
displayed on the battlefield.
  I want to take a little bit here and talk about a meeting I had--I 
mentioned it very briefly last night, but it was 10 days ago. I knew 
Senator Inouye was not feeling well so I went down to his office. He 
has a remarkable office. It is a beautiful office. But there is not one 
single thing on the walls depicting what a great man he is. There are 
no awards, there are no commemorative statues. All he has in his office 
are pictures of Washington and Hawaii. That is the humility he showed 
his entire life.
  There was no staff there, just the two of us. We talked for an hour. 
I would have always remembered it, but his having passed away 
yesterday, it will be embedded in my mind. As we left, we both lamented 
the fact that we had not been able to sit down and talk like that 
enough. He professed at that time--these were his words--how ``lucky'' 
he had been his whole life. He said, ``I've got a little emphysema 
now.''
  I said: It is not from smoking. I have never seen you smoke.
  He said: No, I learned to smoke in the war as a boy, a teenager. He 
smoked from 1944 to 1967, when they told him he had lung cancer. They 
were wrong, but in the process they took part of his lung out, half of 
his lung. He talked about how lucky he had been, surviving what he 
thought was lung cancer, but also how lucky he had been his whole life. 
For example, the war. I am sure that most people would not reflect on 
such massive injuries as being lucky, but he considered it lucky that 
he lived.
  There were other examples he gave. He had been called upon, with 
three other soldiers, to cross a river in the dark of night to find out 
what was going on on the other side of the river. He and his 
companions, in the dark of the night--they didn't have all this fancy 
gear to see in the dark; they did their best--they crossed that cold, 
cold

[[Page S8097]]

river. It took many hours. They came back, did their report, and he 
laid down on his bunk. He had an ingrown toenail that hurt every step 
he took. So he is lying on his bed and he said, ``Here is why I am so 
lucky. A medic came by, looked at me, looked at my foot, and he said 
you have gangrene poisoning; we have to get you out of here.
  They took him out and he said: How lucky I was I was not in battle 
that day--when half of his companions were killed.
  He also talked about preparing for another battle. He is getting 
ready to do this. He is a private; he may have been a corporal, I don't 
really remember. He said a sergeant came to him and he said: ``Inouye, 
report to the colonel.'' He doesn't know what is wrong. He goes, 
reports to the colonel. The colonel says very curtly: ``You have to 
meet with the General today.'' He said the only reason he would know of 
to meet with the General was a court martial, because that is what 
everybody thought. So he goes to headquarters. He sees the General. The 
General tells Senator Inouye: ``I am promoting you to be a 
lieutenant.'' It was a battlefield promotion. But he said: ``I was 
lucky. I was lucky I became an officer but,'' he said, ``I was lucky I 
was not in the fight that day because we also had huge losses.''
  When he was scheduled to come back to America--another one of his 
lucky experiences--they had a transport plane to take him back. His arm 
is gone by then. He is told we don't have room for another litter, for 
another patient on the airplane. You can't go. He of course was 
disappointed. The plane crashed and killed everybody on the plane.
  So Dan Inouye was a person who considered himself lucky. Those of us 
who knew Senator Inouye consider ourselves lucky, just being able to 
know the man.
  After Hawaii received its statehood in 1959, Dan Inouye served as its 
first Congressman. Three years later he was elected to the Senate, and 
he was a soft but powerful voice for the people of Hawaii ever since.
  There are many personal courtesies he extended to me that I will 
never forget. It may not seem like much, but I was scheduled to be in 
Florida and I promoted this--I was a new Senator--and the great Senator 
Inouye was going to be there. I got a call from Henry Giugni. Most of 
us who served here knew him. He used to be Sergeant at Arms. For a long 
time he was Senator Inouye's chief of staff. He said, ``I checked his 
schedule and it's his wife's birthday and he is not going to be able to 
go.'' I said I understand that.
  Within an hour I got a call from Senator Inouye. He said Millie 
understands that totally. He said we will celebrate the birthday the 
day after tomorrow, when I come back. He was someone who was so self-
sacrificing for other Senators.
  As Senator Inouye's colleague from Hawaii, Senator Akaka, said last 
night:

       His legacy . . . can be seen in every mile of every road in 
     Hawaii, in every nature preserve and every facility that 
     makes Hawaii a safer place. He fulfilled his dream of 
     creating a better Hawaii.

  He was a strong supporter of the University of Hawaii, a strong 
supporter of George Washington University Law School. He got his 
bachelor's in Hawaii, his law degree at George Washington. He was a 
determined representative of this Nation's fighting men and women, a 
long-time leader of the Defense Appropriations Subcommittee.
  As I mentioned briefly last night, there has been, in my many years 
in the Congress--I have been here as long as my friend the assistant 
leader here who is seated next to me today; we have been here 30 
years--there has been no one I have ever known in my 30 years who did 
more and fought more for the fighting men of this country. He believed 
that the Nation's commitment to the members of his Armed Forces did not 
end with their service.

  For fear it would be lost, and it should not be lost, I want to 
spread on the Record what this good man did at a prayer breakfast a 
couple of months ago. I can't remember if the Presiding Officer was at 
the prayer breakfast, but I know my friend the assistant leader was 
there. Senator Inouye had never, ever in his 50 years in Congress 
spoken at a prayer breakfast, but he decided to come. He had great 
vigor until just recently. He campaigned in this last cycle. He 
traveled to Alaska to help Senator Begich a few months ago. He 
campaigned in Nevada, in Arizona, all over the country. He had great 
vigor. But he came to the breakfast and talked to us about his 
experiences.
  When he was a boy, he never, ever had a gun. That was not anything 
people did in Hawaii. So he was surprised after he got in the Army that 
he was such a great shot. He was the best--the best. As a result of 
that he became a sniper in the European theater. With great humility he 
explained he could remember killing his first person. He could remember 
they were trying to take a farm house and they shot a bazooka into it 
and he rushed in and there was a man there. The man reached in his 
pocket. Of course Senator Inouye thought he was reaching for a weapon, 
and the man was killed. And Inouye saw that he was reaching for a 
picture of his family. He said he came to the realization at that time 
that he was not killing enemy soldiers, he was killing other human 
beings.
  Although he had to continue doing what he did, he ended his 
presentation by saying, ``I know exactly how many people that I 
killed.'' He said, ``A lot of people go to bed at night counting sheep. 
Even though I am an old man, I go to bed at night many times counting 
people.''
  He was somebody who, as a result of his experiences, voted against 
war from then on. He did not support the Vietnam War, Iraq War 1 and 2, 
Afghanistan--even though he made sure that these people had all the 
supplies they needed, our military force. They are the greatest 
fighting force in the world. A lot of that is directly attributable to 
Senator Inouye.
  Talking about bipartisanship, he lived that. He was a fine Democrat. 
He was a progressive Democrat and was proud of that. But he never 
hesitated to cross over and work with other Senators. The best example 
of that was Senator Stevens, who was killed in an airplane crash fairly 
recently in Alaska. Hawaii and Alaska--these two fine men representing 
the two newest States in the Union, became like brothers. That is the 
truth.
  It is really a shame that Dan is not with us anymore. He was never 
afraid to speak out against discrimination and was an important 
advocate for Native Hawaiians and Asian Pacific Islanders. He was the 
Chair of the Indian Affairs Committee. Prior to that time, with all due 
respect to all the other Chairs, it was not a committee people knew 
much about. Senator Inouye made that committee a powerful committee. He 
traveled the country receiving all the accolades from these tribes that 
had never been recognized, that had never had someone who became their 
advocate--and he was. He put the Indian Affairs Committee on the map.
  He served as chairman of the Commerce Committee, the Appropriations 
Committee, the President pro tempore of the Senate, the first Chair of 
the Committee on Intelligence. He served as a member of the Watergate 
Committee and was chairman of the Special Committee Investigating the 
Iran-Contra Affair. I repeat, this man has been one of the greatest 
Senators in the history of this great country.
  He had a deserved reputation as a bipartisan bridge builder. He 
always put his country first and his party second. In 1968 Senator 
Inouye gave a memorable keynote speech at the Democratic National 
Convention. He spoke eloquently of the country's struggles with racism 
at a time of deep division. He also spoke from the heart. This is part 
of what he said:

       I wish to share with you the most sacred word of Hawaii. It 
     is aloha. To some of you who visited us it may have meant 
     hello. To others aloha may have meant goodbye. But to those 
     of us who have been privileged to live in Hawaii, aloha means 
     I love you. So to all of you, my fellow Americans, aloha.

  That is what he said those many years ago. So today it is with a 
heavy heart that those of us who loved Senator Inouye say ``aloha'' to 
a great man, a legend of the Senate. His final, dying word was 
``aloha.'' He did not mean goodbye. He meant, ``I love you.''
  Senator Inouye, I love you.

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