On February 19, 1921, in Colton, California, a boy was born into a Japanese immigrant family. His name was George Taro Sakato. He grew up in a railroad town, an ordinary American youth in extraordinary times. But after the attack on Pearl Harbor, life changed forever for Japanese Americans. Families were uprooted, sent to internment camps, or forced to move under suspicion and mistrust. To avoid relocation, the Sakatō family moved to Arizona. Even in the shadow of prejudice, George’s resolve never wavered: “This is my country. I will fight for it.”

The stage he chose was the legendary 442nd Regimental Combat Team, a unit made up almost entirely of Nisei—second-generation Japanese Americans. Their motto, “Go for Broke,” became their creed. On the battlefields of Italy and France, they proved not only their skill and loyalty but also their willingness to risk everything to carve their community’s honor into history.

That chance came for Sakato in the bitter autumn of 1944. On October 29, in the dense Vosges Mountains of France, his company was ordered to take Hill 617 near the town of Biffontaine. The hill was a fortress—German machine guns and mortars poured fire into every approach, pinning the Americans to the ground. The advance stalled. Death crept closer with every passing second.

Then came the moment that would define George Sakato’s life. A close friend, fighting at his side, was struck down before his eyes. Grief and fury surged through him, fusing into resolve. He rose from cover and crawled forward under relentless fire, grenades in hand. He stormed a German machine-gun nest, cutting down twelve enemy soldiers, wounding two more, and taking four prisoner.

But his fight did not end there. When his ammunition ran dry, he seized enemy weapons from the fallen and pressed forward, turning the Germans’ guns against them. His fearless charge ignited his comrades, who surged behind him. Together, they shattered the German defenses, capturing thirty-four prisoners in all. That assault broke open the road toward one of the 442nd’s most famous victories—the rescue of the “Lost Battalion,” where hundreds of trapped American soldiers were saved at terrible cost.

For his courage that day, Sakato was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. But like so many Nisei, his valor was diminished in the official record, clouded by the prejudice of the time. It would take decades before justice was done. In 2000, following a national review of Asian American service records, George Taro Sakato was invited to the White House. There, President Bill Clinton placed the Medal of Honor into his hands, declaring that the nation was finally ready to honor what his comrades had always known—that his courage was beyond measure.

After the war, Sakato returned to Denver, Colorado. He lived a quiet life, working for the U.S. Postal Service for 27 years. But though he blended into civilian life, he never forgot the men he had fought beside. On December 2, 2015, at the age of 94, George Taro Sakato passed away. He was laid to rest with full military honors at Denver’s Fairmount Cemetery. In 2018, the U.S. Postal Service named a Denver post office in his honor, ensuring his name would continue to be spoken in the community he served in peace as he had served in war.

George Taro Sakato’s charge at Hill 617 was more than a furious assault on a German stronghold. It was the act of a man who, in a single moment of grief and loyalty, shattered not only enemy defenses but also the invisible walls of doubt and prejudice that surrounded Japanese Americans during the war.

At Ghosts of the Battlefield, we are committed to keeping alive stories like Sakato’s—moments where ordinary men, branded with suspicion, proved through sacrifice that their devotion to America was unshakable. His courage is a flame that continues to light the story of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, a reminder that honor shines brightest when tested against the darkest odds.