Hiroshima Page #5

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The two of us just crouched down,

and burst into tears.

How could such terrible things happen?

At the communications hospital,

one mile from the explosion's hyper centre,

nurse Kinuko was blown away

from the window.

Like so many others,

she was badly lacerated by flying glass.

I had pieces of glass

sticking up from my body, all over.

From my head, my face, my body.

In another part of the city,

Shigei Hiratsuka's peaceful family breakfast

had given way to chaos and confusion.

When we got out, we saw that the whole of

Hiroshima had been turned upside down.

None of the buildings were left.

Fires were breaking out

in different places all over the city.

Then I looked around for the children.

There was my daughter, Kasku.

She was six.

She was buried from the chest down,

and was wedged in by timber and plaster.

I tried to get her out,

I was desperate to,

but whatever I tried,

wouldn't work.

The fires were moving

closer and closer.

The flames were at our feet,

and roaring up around us.

We could not stand the heat

and pain any longer.

The school building

had also collapsed, in the blast.

Eight-year-old Takashito Tanemori

and his friends

were trapped in the rubble,

crying out for someone

to rescue them.

First things I saw, was pitch dark.

Then I sensed there were several soldiers

above my head, moving the debris.

And finally one soldier dug me out.

All I remember, was the soldier

clutched me, in his arms,

weaving through the fires,

between the fires.

The only place we were able to escape

it was the river that runs behind our school.

Near the station,

about two miles from the flash,

Teruko Fujii thought her tram had

short-circuited on the overhead cables,

and that the whole thing was her fault.

I thought that I'd caused

some kind of disaster.

I thought I'd broken the tram

and done something terrible!

And then I thought, is it a bomb?

That was when I realised it wasn't me

who'd caused all this trouble.

First I thought only

the station area was affected.

Then I saw people

walking towards me with injuries,

and skin hanging from them.

Everybody thought, perhaps

if I go over there, I could be saved.

People to the west thought

the east might be better.

People were going in

every direction, in total silence.

Amid all the destruction,

there was at least one miracle.

Eight-year-old

Takashi Tanemori was carried

through the burning city

by the soldier who rescued him.

At last, the soldier reached the river,

and from the crowds,

the little boy heard a familiar voice.

Somehow my father spotted me!

I guess he called my name,

and maybe I responded,

and I said, that's my daddy!

And then he stood straight

to the soldiers,

and then he bowed many, many times

to the soldiers, said, thank you!

You are saviour!

Later on, after we were flying back,

conversation started about,

you know, the war being over,

as a result of this bombing.

Despite the number of people we killed,

we saved multiple numbers

over that from being in a war,

and being killed, on America's side,

and on the Japanese side.

That time, there was such

a hatred for the Japanese,

that the more we killed,

the better off we thought we were,

because that means

there's going to be less

that we're going to have

to contend with during the invasion.

After a six-hour return flight,

the Enola Gay reached Tinian Island.

The following...

Three, four, 500 people there.

And when we got out of the airplane,

of course we were all getting out,

we're tired, and everything of that type,

and I get out, I remember getting out,

carrying my oxygen mask,

I'm right behind Paul,

and then some joker

calls us to attention.

I got out of the airplane,

like I was told,

he pins this thing on my shirt,

guys are taking pictures of us,

I saluted,

and after that was over with,

I'm back to my duty.

We've got to go to de-briefing,

by the intelligence people.

They had certain things to ask,

did you see this,

and did you see that, and so forth.

Confirming that we had bombed

the right target.

I said, sure.

Dr Hida escaped from the rubble of

the farmhouse four miles outside Hiroshima.

After checking on the child

he had been treating,

he headed back towards the city.

It's about six kilometres

to Hiroshima from there.

When I was halfway there, suddenly

a strange creature appeared out of nowhere.

As it was summer, if it were human,

it would have been wearing white.

What I saw was all black,

from top to bottom.

Pitch black.

I though it was strange.

At the top there was something round,

like a head.

It had shoulders:

something like a body followed.

But it was like it had no face.

It was black.

The area around the eyes had swollen up,

it had no nose,

the lower half of the face

was just mouth!

It was frightening.

As a doctor,

the first thing you do is take a pulse.

But when I took his hand,

there was no skin.

There was nowhere I could hold.

So I stood up, saying, please,

pull yourself together,

and walked around him.

This person gave a small shudder,

and then he stopped moving.

He had died.

He had fled three kilometres,

and then he died there.

That man was the first fatality

caused by the bomb, that I saw.

Army recruit, Shigeru Terasawa,

had been stationed seven miles

from the centre of the blast.

His unit was sent to help survivors,

but they soon

faced a terrible conflict,

between their compassion

and their training.

Even now there are things

that I will never forget.

One is the sound of people

begging me for water.

In those days,

we had been told not to give water

to the badly burned,

to tell you the truth,

we all had these big,

military water flasks on our hips.

People were begging for water,

but we didn't give them any.

We had been told that if we did,

they would die straight away.

And so I didn't give them any.

A lot of people died.

Now, looking back,

I wish I had given them water.

Burned, and bleeding,

in the intense heat,

people were desperate

to find any water they could.

They fled to the rivers,

to pools, and reservoirs.

Among them, nurse Kinuko.

I knew there was a pool of water,

in the back yard of the hospital.

Lots of people

had already got into the pool.

More people had jumped on top of them.

The people underneath drowned.

This is one scene I can never forget.

I still dream about it.

Then came a strange deliverance.

Dark raindrops began to fall

from the clouds above the burning city.

We opened our mouths, and drank it.

Our throats were parched,

but it was difficult to capture

the rain into our mouths.

The rain had been made

black by ash and smoke

which had been sucked into

the rising mushroom cloud.

When these ashes mixed with cool,

humid air in the upper atmosphere,

they formed thick, black raindrops,

and fell back down on to the city.

The drops of rain were big enough to hurt,

when they hit your skin.

It descended in a torrent.

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