Only the Meiji would know. Firm in this conviction a spruce file of puzzled Japanese Army officers rode out from Tokyo one dawn last week to a pungent park of pine and camphor trees. They crossed a gurgling brook, entered a spotlessly clean quadrangle and faced with awe the Meiji Shrine, an unpainted wooden building, austere, impressive and, to Japanese, sublime.
The puzzled officers had been sitting as a court-martial in Tokyo since July 25. Their thankless job was to mete out justice to eleven Army cadets, confessed conspirators in the assassination of...
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