As a prison officer delivers the daily serving
of miso soup to Yoshie Shiratori’s cell, it takes all his concentration not to break
out into an evil grin. He wishes he could laugh at the man and call
him a fool. Do they really think they can keep him contained
this time around, after failing so many times already? Of course, he doesn't want to give himself
away, so he stays quiet and watches the man leave. Now, it’s time for the fun to begin. Shiratori will make use of whatever tools
are available to him, and it just so happens that now, the only thing he has to work with
is a concoction made of fermented soybeans. A challenge, sure, but nothing a bit of creativity
can’t solve. He tucks into his meal hungrily, but instead
of swallowing, he stands up while retaining the liquid in his mouth. Time to get to work. He spits the food onto the doorframe, mouthful
after mouthful. Then, he spits a bit more on his handcuffs. Just what is he doing? Well they don’t call him Japan’s answer
to Houdini for nothing. These officers have no idea what’s about
to hit them… Yohie Shiratori was born in 1907, during the
Meiji Era in Japan which lasted from 1868 to 1912 and was notorious for its harsh prison
conditions. Harsher prison conditions means a greater
incentive to escape, and Shiratori wasn't the only one to come to that conclusion. For instance, in 1881, almost two thousand
prisoners escaped from their cells. But before you can escape, you first have
to be convicted. And for Yoshie Shiratory that conviction was
a big one - found guilty of robbery and murder. You never forget the first prison. Or at least that’s how the saying goes. For Shiratori, it was Aomori prison which
was a horrible place. So how did he get out after just three years? Well short of his original sentence? Well for Shiratori it was all very easy, really. One evening, the guards handed him a bucket
of water to wash with, and as he looked down into the water, he noticed a tiny, glimmering
strip staring up at him. Checking his surroundings to ensure nobody
was watching, he picked it up to find it was a tiny wire. A tiny wire might not sound like something
to write home about if you’re living a cushy life complete with human rights and all that
jazz, but for Shiratori, it was a miracle. Instantly, he realized he could use it to
pick the lock of his handcuffs and escape, so he hid it out of sight. The lock picking took a bit of trial and error,
but there’s nothing better to do with your time in a prison cell. Shiratori enjoyed a good few years of sweet,
sweet, freedom. Unemployment, too, but at least he was free. The problem was, he got too comfortable. The life of crime was calling Shiratori, and
he so badly wanted to answer the call. One day, he just couldn’t resist stealing
some supplies from a hospital. Big mistake. In 1936, the powers that be recaptured Shiratori,
and this time, it was a life sentence. But now he went into prison already thinking
about the ways to escape. And he was determined to make it an even better
story than the last time. The next stop was Akita prison. Not the most memorable place, but it just
so happened to be where he conducted an even cooler exit. As soon as they put him into his cell, he
started surveying his surroundings. There were no wires this time, but after what
felt like hours of pacing, he gave up and settled down on his poor excuse for a bed. Laying down on his bed, looking up at the
ceiling, he was struck with inspiration. Right in the top corner of the wall, by the
ceiling, was an air vent. And everybody knows an air vent has to lead
somewhere. It was his getaway ticket. But there was a problem: the walls in this
cell were very high and extremely smooth. Even if it was possible to force the door
to the air vent open and make his way through to the other side without killing himself,
how would he ever climb the wall? Figuring that out made up became Shiratori’s
hobby for the rest of his time in Akita. After weeks on end of perfecting his scaling
technique, one day he finally made it to the top. And...then he fell down. Great. But at least he had the ability to make it
up, right? Shiratori eventually managed to get to the
top and stay there long enough to undo the hinge that was keeping the door closed. There was only one part left now: to take
the exit route. Shiratori waited until the time when the prison
got quiet, then scaled up the wall and busted open the air vent, clambering in sweatily
before his bare feet lost grip on the walls. Now he just had to crawl through a horribly
small passageway for who-knows-how-long without the claustrophobia giving him a panic attack,
and force open the door on the other end. Easy. It was a tense journey, but finally he reached
the end of the tunnel. Shiratori didn’t really have a great view
of what was waiting for him on the other side, it was impossible to tell if there were many
people there, but it seemed to be silent. He took a deep breath, scrambled out, then
snuck out of the prison without being seen. Success! Then, it was back to the same old problem:
he had absolutely nowhere to go. Shiratori had no money. No friends or family he could trust to protect
him. He couldn’t just go and get a job; they’d
realize he was a prisoner. Shiratori was stuck in a revolving door of
crime. But then he remembered a specific prison guard
from Aomiri prison, one who always gave him a warm smile and made sure he had enough food. Maybe he would help him. It was a long shot, turning to a prison guard
for refuge, but what else was a prisoner on the run supposed to do? Miraculously, Shiratori was able to find him,
and even more miraculously, he took him in. For a while, things were going well. He loved Shiratori’s stories and appreciated
the company. But after a while, Shiratori noticed that
he wasn’t looking him in the eye. That’s never a good sign, and not long after
the police arrived at the door to arrest Shiratori again. He’d been betrayed. That night, Shiratori made an oath to himself
that he’d never trust another officer again. This time, they sent him to Abashiri prison. He was really in with the big fish this time. Abashri was the destination of hardened criminals
and the most dangerous people in Japan. This cell didn’t even have an air vent. That traitor guard had probably told the staff
exactly how he’s escaped the previous times. But nobody could have guessed what Shiratori
had in store this time around. Every meal time, the officers would dish up
a serving of miso soup. It was bitter and horrible stuff, but conveniently
his plan ensured that he didn’t have to eat it. Each morning, Shiratori would spit the soup
onto his door frame and handcuffs. The salt and moisture from the Miso had corrodings
and weakening the doorframe and the handcuffs. It was a long game, sure, but he had nothing
but time. Although saltwater alone can’t cause rust,
it does accelerate the process. Rusting happens because metal atoms react
with oxygen and water — and because there’s almost always some moisture in the air, most
iron is exposed to both of these. This results in hydrated iron oxide. Electrons move more easily in saltwater than
freshwater since it contains lots of dissolved ions, so the rusting process takes place more
quickly. Shiratori gradually wore down the door frame
over time, making it looser and looser, until finally, he could create a larger gap on the
metal frame the guards pushed the miso soup through. He also loosened his handcuffs. Now, all he needed was an opportunity. Opportunity arrived when there was a wartime
blackout in 1944. With no light and the minds of the prison
staff on problems other than guarding the prisoners, he realized he might just be able
to manage an escape. But as he pried apart the metal on the frame,
he discovered that he wasn’t going to make it through. The hole was too small. Unless… Shiratori might just be able to squeeze himself
through if he really forced it, but it was going to do his body some damage. But it was this or nothing. With all his might, he rammed himself through
that gap, dislocating his shoulder in the process, and while the whole prison was dark
and everyone was distracted, he successfully snuck away again. But Shiratori’s story didn’t end there. There was still one fourth and final escape... When he was recaptured, things were somehow
worse than ever. His original sentence of a few years’ imprisonment
had now become a death sentence. It was almost like escaping from prison hadn’t
been worth it. Yet he knew that, with such high stakes, this
time he had no choice but to get out. But Shiratori was well known for his escapes
now and no longer had the element of surprise. Now he had six armed guards watching over
him 24 hours a day. And, even worse, the cell had been specially
designed to ensure that he couldn’t get out through the air vent. One of the few bright sides for Shiratori
was no more handcuffs. The prison had so much faith in their sophisticated
cell design and highly-trained guards that they deemed them unnecessary. So, at least he wouldn’t have to waste time
on spitting soup out onto his wrists this time around. The other thing that caught his notice was
the floor. He was on the ground floor this time, and
the wooden floorboards looked like they could be easily lifted up if the bolts were removed. But even if he could, he’d still have to
dig an entire tunnel before he had any hope of escaping. This was going to take a while. By this point, Shiratori was an old man. All the escaping from prison and being recaptured
had really taken a toll on him, and the prospect of the grueling manual labor involved in digging
up a tunnel didn’t exactly fill him with joy. But it was literally a matter of life or death. So, every day he used his food bowl to dig
a small part of that hole. It took a while, but finally, he finished
digging the tunnel and crawled to freedom. But again, Shiratori struggled to adjust to
the world outside of prisons, though he did manage to stay out of trouble. For a year at least. One day, Shiratori encountered a police offer. His body froze up on instinct after seeing
him, remembering his promise to never trust another officer, but the man surprised him
by offering a cigarette. These were the post-war days when cigarette
prices were extortionate, so he couldn’t help but feel touched by the gesture. Overwhelmed by the show of camaraderie, Shiratori
blurted out that he’d escaped prison four times. It sounds like a stupid thing to say, but
it’s hard to go your whole life as the world’s single greatest prison escape artist and not
tell a single person. But of course, the officer snitched, and just
like last time, Shiratori returned to prison, for the fifth and final time. But this time around, he at least got some
special treatment. No more death sentence and the chance to go
to a prison of his choice. He chose a prison in Tokyo and was eventually
granted parole, getting to live the final ten years of his life as a truly free man. Now, go watch our video on the man who escaped
prison by mail and the time death row inmates escaped before execution.
