Transcript from Chaplain Roland Faulk’s Oral History.
Faulk #1 – 126, paragraph 3

"Following the sinking of Yamato, it was obvious that for a time, prime targets of Japanese kamikaze were the battleships. Thus on April 11, 1945, we had our first kamikaze hit. I happened to be making my way up the inside ladder of the superstructure to the navigation bridge and just as I stepped out into the cross-passageway I was almost trampled in a rush of officers and men moving from the starboard to the port side of the bridge. Their action was prompted by the sight of a kamikaze coming from directly astern and apparently headed for the bridge. The young Japanese pilot had obviously chosen to make his run to death by coming in low – just above the water. He was picked up when he was two or three miles astern and all the guns that could be brought to bear were firing at him, not only from the Missouri but from other ships in the formation. The members of the forty millimeter gun crew on the stern described to me the way the plane came in. The pilot had apparently been untouched by the hail of gunfire and was riding his plane in like a jockey on a racehorse – squatting in his seat. He hit just abaft of turret two, shearing off the port wing of the plane which flew a hundred feet forward and landed behind a five inch gun mount at an intake vent which provided ventilation to the fire rooms. His torso fell on the main deck and the rest of his plane and portions of his body went into the water – all without his bomb exploding. (Note: In viewing the photograph of the attacking 'Zeke', there is a shape visible under the fuselage corresponding to placement of a 500 lb. Bomb. Other photographs of 'Zeke' aircraft, prior to take-off, show them carrying a single 500 lb bomb placed under the fuselage and slightly behind the leading edge of the wing. This would seem to verify that the bomb was attached and simply did not detonate. M.W.)

The next morning a military funeral was conducted for the Japanese pilot who appeared to be a young man about eighteen or nineteen years of age. To some of the crew who grumbled because military honors were rendered, I reminded them that a "dead Jap is no longer an enemy." As far as I am aware this was the only instance of its kind in World War II where such honors were rendered under such circumstances."