Residence at the time of the incident: 9-chome, Ote-machi, Hiroshima City
(About 1,000 meters from the hypocenter of the A-bomb)
Age at the time: 20 years old
(Occupation at the time: Student at the Faculty of Engineering at Hiroshima Higher Technical School; currently, the School of Engineering at Hiroshima University)
I am one of the victims of the atomic bomb. The other day when I was reading the Hiroshima edition of the Asahi Shimbun newspaper, I saw an article calling for victims’ memoirs of the Hiroshima atomic bomb. As I write, I feel extremely honored to have this opportunity to contribute my memoirs of the A-bomb.
I was upstairs on the second floor of my lodging when the A-bomb struck, and received lifelong injuries from it. The bomb ruptured the iris of my left eye and pierced half of my body, especially my back, with shards of glass. I have had 42 shards extirpated, but seven still remain lodged, including two large pieces of around 10 x 10 millimeters. Despite being afflicted with so many injuries, every cloud has a silver lining, and I am still extremely healthy and vigorously pursuing my studies.
I suppose it is safe to say that of those who were in 9-chome Ote-machi who were injured as much as I was that day, not many can be seen living as healthily as I am today. It is for this very reason that I still vividly remember my experience of living through the immediate aftermath of the A-bomb. Those who witnessed it may describe it as a depiction of hell. Regrettably, I am not exactly sure how much of the experience of the aftermath I can accurately portray with my meager narrative skills. I would like to try to paint the details of the aftermath as well as I can.
I had returned from serving under the Student Mobilization Order on July 31, and my classes at school resumed on August 1. I precisely remember that in that year, August 5 was a Sunday, as I was planning to return to my hometown that day. However, the military scheduled a drill for that day and I had to cancel my plans to return home.
When I woke the next day, the 6th, at 6 a.m., air-raid sirens were sounding. However, since they were always sounding, I was not very worried. The sirens were then called off, and so I took a morning bath, then returned upstairs shirtless just past eight o’clock to prepare for school. This was when I heard my landlady, who was in the courtyard watching a B-29 fly overhead, call out to me, “Look, Mr. KURAMOTO. It’s easier today to spot where those bombers are flying.” This was the last I ever saw of her, as well as a moment when I temporarily lost my grip on life before regaining consciousness.
The A-bomb struck, and suddenly, I saw only a reddish-yellow blur before losing consciousness. By this point, my left eye was damaged and my back, left arm, and entire face were pierced by glass from a shattered storm window. Waking, I immediately ran frantically down the stairs, out the door, and found that most of my neighbors’ houses had collapsed.
I had absolutely no idea that an A-bomb had caused all of this devastation. Desperate to call for help, I headed for Takanobashi Street where the street car runs, only to find that the street was flooded with thousands of people wandering about in confusion, this way and that. I will refrain from describing this situation in detail. From there, I ran for Meiji Bridge, hoping to find refuge in Funairi-cho, but found that the bridge had already been destroyed. Dragging my excessively bleeding body, I turned back and managed to reach Hiroshima Red Cross Hospital. By this time, my house had been reduced to ashes and embers. At the hospital, I saw a great number of sick and wounded soldiers being carried in on stretchers, and that the hospital was already too busy with the soldiers to spend time on civilians.
I found a water tank and washed my wounds, which only caused me to bleed more profusely, which caused me an even greater degree of shock. This was the first time I thought that this would be the end of the world.
In an open field at the hospital, I saw large crowds of soldiers shouting, “Long live the Emperor!” as they collapsed and died. I also saw charred bodies of civilians scattered across the ground.
I cannot recall the number of times I thought to myself, “This must be it for me.” I left the hospital, fleeing to a number of other places, then arrived at the foot of Minami-ohashi Bridge, which used to stand behind Hiroshima Girls High School of Education Attached Yamanaka Girls High School. However, here too, all I found were civilians suffering atrociously, half-dead, screaming in the river, and passing away in each other’s arms, a scene that no words could possibly describe.
Gradually, fatigue got the better of me and I no longer had the vigor to flee for refuge. I gave my parents’ address, full names and my last words to my parents to the people immediately beside me, saying that though I am dying, I die with a feeling of gratitude for having been granted a happy life. Then I collapsed.
Fortunately, a rescue squad came right in time to carry me on a stretcher to an air-raid shelter at the Higher Technical School. Because I was pierced with nearly 50 shards of glass, every time I turned in my bed, searing bolts of pain shot through my body with dull, echoing, cracking sounds. There were about eight people in the air-raid shelter. Three to four hours later, a truck carried me to Ujina-machi. At this point, both of my eyes had practically become blind from the wounds. From the Shipping Transport Headquarters in Ujina-machi, the 2940th Akatsuki Unit transported about 3,000 of us on a landing craft to a food warehouse in Taibi, Saka-mura, Aki-gun off the coast from Saka Station, on the JR Kure Line. Having to lie directly on a straw mat without any clothing was absolute torture, describable in no other way than as a state more excruciating than death.
By the next morning, August 7, roughly 1,000 people had died despite the attentive care provided by the soldiers and the women’s association. The death throes of the people passing away and the screams of pain and sorrow I witnessed each day still torment me as I write this memoir.
At 9 a.m. on the 8th, it was finally my turn to be treated by a medical officer. However, the treatment was very brief and basic as there were so many patients, and my pain remained unrelenting. On the 7th and 8th, Grumman fighter planes routinely flew over us. As this place was considered no longer safe past 4 a.m. on the 9th, we were stealthily transported again by boat to Koyaura Elementary School located in front of Koyaura Station on the JR Kure Line. I later learned that Taibi had been bombed around 10 o’clock that very same day. We had been very lucky.
People continued to die daily at the elementary school. I was worried that it was only a matter of time before it would be my turn, but I seemed to develop no unusual changes or particular symptoms. I stayed at the school for a while, but on the 13th, I became overwhelmingly concerned for my parents, and had a medical officer check my condition. The medical officer told me that given my condition, returning home would be impossible. I disregarded his advice and headed home on the train anyway, wearing only a fundoshi (a traditional male undergarment, similar to a loincloth), with literally nothing on me. That day, on a train packed with people, not one person sat near me. Try imagine what this felt like for me.
All I had left on me from before the A-bomb was my wristwatch drenched in blood.
Not once since returning home have I had to lie sick in bed—a fact that may sound hard to believe when compared with conditions I have heard that other victims had to endure. I know I should describe my experience in more depth, but I would be deeply honored if these depictions of the aftermath could be of some use.
July 5 (Wed.), Showa 25 (1950)
Shigehiro, Nyuno-mura, Toyota-gun, Hiroshima Prefecture
KURAMOTO Itaru
Presently teaching at: a high school in Hongo
I would be more than happy to provide more details, so please feel free to contact me if necessary. |
