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50 Years After Bombing 
YOKOYAMA Yoshie(YOKOYAMA Yoshie) 
Gender Female  Age at time of bombing  
Year written 1995 
Location at time of bombing Nagasaki(Direct exposure) 
Location when exposed to the bombing Nagasaki CityNishikita-gou(Current Nagasaki CityNishi-kita-machi) 
Status at time of bombing  
Occupational status at time of bombing  
Hall site Nagasaki National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims 

I was in the Nishi-kita neighbourhood when the atomic bomb exploded on August 9. My sister was over at Shiroyama Elementary School, where she was one of the mobilized student workers. She had gone off to work as usual, even though air-raid sirens had sounded that morning. A few minutes after 11 o' clock, I saw a flash of light. I don' t remember any sound. When I lifted up my head up I saw that all the furniture was scattered around the house and the radio was dangling in the air. I ran outside and saw that the old thatched-roof barn next to our house was burning, as were the hills above. The bushes were also burning. I was shocked by the power of the bomb. Only two of the ten or so farmhouses dotting the neighborhood had escaped the fires. I saw two cows running through the raging fires toward the high mountains. They came back down later, when the fires were dying out. It was around 3 or 4 o' clock by then and the people and the animals stayed at the foot of the mountain after that. A little while later, my mother set off to search for my sister.

My sister was in the fourth grade at a girls' commercial school, but she had been sent to work at the payroll division of the General Affairs Department of Mitsubishi Weapons, which had been relocated to the third floor of Shiroyama National School. I am not sure how many people were in the same room as her, or how many survivors there were, but my sister later told us that almost everyone had died instantly. A man, I guess it was their boss, told those who were still alive to jump out the windows if they could. My sister survived the jump from the third floor and managed to crawl barefoot to the bushes that were close to where Urakami Station now stands. That was why we were able to find her and bring her back home. If she had taken one of the rescue trains to Omura or Isahaya, we probably never would have found out what happened to her. In that way, I think we were really lucky.

My mother brought my sister home, but our house had already burned to the ground by then. We spent the next two nights in the small air-raid shelter at the bottom of the mountain in front of our house. My sister didn’t receive any treatment for the pieces of broken window glass stuck in her head and face. A few days later, we went to one of the houses in the neighbourhood that was still standing, and found someone who worked at the clinic of the national railway. He took the pieces of glass out of her face and head one by one. But many of the finely shattered bits of glass could not be removed. She didn’t seem to be in pain, but just ten days later she passed away. I hate the atomic bomb. I hate it more than anything else.

Looking back, it seems as if my family was always faced with misfortune. The eldest of my younger sisters died two months before the atomic bombing. She caught a cold shortly after she graduated from the girls’ commercial school and started working at the savings department, and then died from water that formed in her pleura. At least her name was recorded on her school’s list of graduates, however, unlike my other sister who was only in the fourth grade when she died. Her name is not on any list. I feel sorry for her. Even today, I get chills when I see Shiroyama Elementary School and think about my wounded sister jumping out of that building. Considering the fact that many of the deceased were never found, however, my sister and the others in my family were lucky. We were happy for the ten days we spent together and the fact that we were able to build a proper coffin for her.

I hate the atomic bomb. It crushed and burned everything, including living creatures and plants. I can never erase that disastrous image from my memory.
This nameplate, which I have carefully held onto, is the only belonging of my sister’s that I still have. I am donating it in the hope that it will contribute in some way to research on the atomic bombings. She had been wearing it on her coat that day. I am also donating the certificate officially recognizing her as an atomic bomb victim.
My other sister’s face had been clean when she died, but this sister’s looked dirty when she took her last breath. I don’t know if it was because of the blast or not, but the image of her darkened face is something I will never forget.



*More narrated accounts are available at the Hiroshima and Nagasaki Peace Memorial Halls
*These contents are updated periodically.
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