||i 4 The story most popularly quoted by journalists writing on the evacuation and its attendant problems is the one .about the small boy in one of the evacuee centers who said to his parents: "I don't like it here. When are we going back to America?" It is a story which, whether aprocryphal or not, has repeatedly been used to illustrate both the essential abnormality of life in evacuee communities and the anomaly of a segment Of America's population being kept in forced confinement in the midst of a xvar dedicated to the preservation of democratic principles. Today, however, the story has an added point and relevance in that procedures have been outlined and implemented to provide an answer to the little boy's question. The whole purpose of the War Relocation Authority program now under way is to get as many of these 110,000 evacuees as possible, aliens and citizens alike, "back to America," back to free and normal ways of living. To the residents of Topaz, as to those of all the other WRA centers, the question which looms increasingly large in their minds is that of their future. As time goes on, more and more of them will pass through the main gate on the community's northern edge and enter a-gain into the mainstream of American life. And for most of them, it will presumably be a strictly one-way passage, since they will be leaving, not on any temporary excursion, but with the intention of making as permanent a place for themselves in the America beyond the gate as their abilities and the circumstances of time and place permit. They will go into communities strange to them--strange not only because they will be newcomers there, but because they will encounter social patterns radically different in many respects from the "Little Tokyo" patterns of their past and because the war itself has created new conditions everywhere of which they may be only remotely cognizant after the relative isolation of nearly a year in assembly and relocation centers. Among strange faces and surroundings, some will enter upon work new to them because their former occupations do not need them or no longer exist, while others will go into new fields because of the wider opportunities that a war-time economy presents. But everywhere, whether at tasks new or old, they will be starting from scratch in the attempt to re-establish themselves as functional elements in the' American scene, >• How these outbound erstwhile evacuees will ultimately fare, individually and in the mass, how, in short, the whole relocation program will turn out, no one can of course accurately predict at this time. Just as the evacuation itself was an unprecedented undertaking in the nation's history, so there are no guide-posts of past experience by which its aftermath can be infallibly foretold. The whole problem largely pivots itself on the question of the American public's willingness to take back into membership a racial minority group which has once been subjected to removal under government sanction. A predominantly receptive public attitude will naturally expedite the successful conclusion of the WRA program, whereas a continuing or augmented public hostility will make the program difficult and perhaps even impossible of realization. But while the problem in its largest aspect shapes itself up as simply as that, so many factors and considerations are involved in the creation and perpetuation of public attitudes that the practical solution of the problem is probably nowhere near that simple. Thus, general public acceptance of the evacuee population will be conditioned by such things as these: (a) The fortunes of war in the Pacific and the incidence of American casualties in that theater.