5/20/24: Hiroshima's Sobering Sights

After a couple of days in delightful and charming Kurashiki, Steven and I took the 90-minute bullet train ride with a brief stop in Okayama to Hiroshima where we again hung our hats for two days. Almost exactly 79 years ago, Hiroshima and the world were forever changed when an atomic bomb was dropped in the center of the city of 350,000 people at 8:15 in the morning of August 6, 1945. A third of the population perished that day but victims who survived the bomb's explosion were immediately exposed to mammoth doses of radioactive particles. Blast survivors still suffered in the years that followed from the bomb's effects with high rates of cancer, scars, and keloid tissue.

Paradoxically, the city's disaster has become Hiroshima's largest tourist appeal with people coming from around the world to tour the poignant museum and memorials in Peace Memorial Park. One repercussion of the city's total destruction was its resurgence with wide, open boulevards instead of the more common narrow and compact streets.

Hiroshima's Sarugaku-cho neighborhood was for centuries known as a lively and diverse community and for its artisans, noh actors, doctors, and varied shops. All that was irrevocably changed when mankind's first atomic bomb exploded about 600 meters above the  Shima Hospital, completely destroying people and property below it. A grim reminder of what had been were the skeletal remains of the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall, now the A-Bomb Dome.

The distinctive green-domed building that had been completed in 1915 had been used for fairs, cultural events, and art exhibitions in addition to its business function promoting prefectural products.

The Hall before and ...

after the bombing: 

When the atomic bomb from the American B29 bomber exploded approximately 160 meters southeast of the Hall, it ignited the building and instantly killed everyone in it. However, enough of the Hall's iron frame and center walls were still standing that the building was still recognizable as an iron dome because the blast struck almost directly above. These haunting remains came to be known after the war as the A-bomb Dome.

Public opinion about the dome remained divided for many years with some thinking it should be destroyed because the dangerously crumbling structure evoked such painful memories while others maintained it should be preserved as a memorial to the bombing. The Hiroshima City Council waited until 1966 to pass a resolution to preserve the structure so that it would look as it did immediately after the bombing. 

The A-bomb Dome was registered that year on the World Heritage List as a "historical witness conveying the first use of a nuclear weapon, as a world peace monument appealing continually for lasting peace and the abolition of such weapons."

Just beyond the A-bomb Dome was Motoyasu Bridge over the river of the same name. Though the bridge was the nearest to the atomic bomb's hypocentrum of all Hiroshima's bridges, amazingly it survived and was only replaced by the current bridge in 1992.

As we continued walking through Peace Memorial Park, we saw the Memorial Tower Dedicated to the Mobilized Students through the field of roses. 

Of the over three million Japanese students over the age of twelve that were mobilized for labor service during the war, 10,000 died, including 6,000 from the bomb itself. The students gave up their youth in service for their country. 

If you look closely, you'll see that the 12-meter-tall tower is wider at the top. We watched as people lit candles in memory of those who died.

Hiroshima's Zero Milestone was the intersection of main overland traffic routes and the main stop in water transport on the Ota River,  the center of Hiroshima Castle town. As the milestone was also the location of an official bulletin board, a stable, private inns, and official lodgings were located nearby. That was why the distance from Hiroshima was always calculated from here. 

Other perspectives of the A-bomb Dome as we walked across the river to explore more of the park:

Though we'd yet to view most of the park's 50-some memorials and statues, it was hard not to think that the Children's Peace Monument wouldn't be among the most touching. The monument was dedicated to war's most innocent victims, not only those who died instantaneously in the blast but also those who perished from radiation's effects. 

The monument was originally inspired by the death of Sadako Sasaki who was exposed to the atomic bomb's radiation when she was just two. Ten years later, Sadako developed leukemia which ultimately took her life. Her early passing prompted her young classmates to demand a monument be built for all children who lost their lives because of the atomic bomb. The memorial became a reality in 1958 thanks to the contributions of 3,200 schools in Japan and donors from nine countries. A bronze statue of a young girl with her arms outstretched beneath a golden crane entrusted with dreams for a peaceful future stood at the top of the nine-meter-tall monument. On one side were figures of a girl and a boy.

Below the bell in the center was another crane which is also considered to be the symbol of longevity and happiness for the Japanese. 

Sadako had believed that if she folded 1,000 paper cranes, she would recover. How tragic that she still died even after folding more than 1,000 cranes. All Japanese children learn her story and around the memorial were streamers of brightly colored paper cranes made by children all over the country. Every year, ten million paper cranes are offered to the Peace Monument. People from all over the world make and mail offerings of paper cranes to be placed in the display booths.

The monument was an extremely touching tribute to Sadako and all the children who died as a result of the bombing of Hiroshima. May it all remind us of the horrors of nuclear war.

The ashes of tens of thousands of  people who lost their lives in Hiroshima were laid in the Atomic Bomb Memorial Mound. As this spot was so close to the hypocenter, numerous corpses were collected and cremated. As part of the tenth anniversary of the bomb's dropping, this memorial mound was constructed and the ashes of victims excavated from around the city were included.  

Before visiting the peace park, I hadn't known that Koreans had been brought to Japan as forced laborers, soldiers, civilian employees of the army, mobilized students, and ordinary citizens. Korea had been a Japanese colony on the Korean peninsula. The Cenotaph for Korean Victims honored the approximately 20,000 Koreans who were killed on the fateful summer day. Korean blast victims were given no funerals or memorial services and their spirits "hovered for years unable to pass into heaven." It was significant that the cenotaph remained outside the park for 29 years until the mayor of Hiroshima gave approval for its relocation, and called for an end to prejudice against Korean residents in Japan.

More monuments in the park:

I read that "the Flame of Peace will continue to burn until all atomic weapons disappear from earth and nuclear war is no longer a threat to humanity."

Between the Children's Peace Monument and the Hiroshima National Peace Memorial Hall was the Cenotaph for the A-bomb Victims which had been designed to resemble a figurine clay saddle found in ancient tombs. A stone chest sheltered by the saddle contained the names of all who had perished by the bomb and its aftereffects. So far almost 309,000 names have been registered.  

As we stood in front of the cenotaph we had a clear line of sight through the hollow arch to the eternal flame and the A-bomb Dome in the distance. "Let all the souls here rest in peace, for we shall not repeat the evil" were the optimistic words written on the epitaph.

The Peace Memorial Hall:

The goal of the Hall of Remembrance was to record the names and photographs of the victims, collect memoirs of people who were exposed to the bomb, and (more importantly perhaps) advocate for the abolition of nuclear weapons not only in Japan but throughout the world. Neither Steven or I had known that among the 350,000 people estimated to have been living in Hiroshima when the bomb was dropped were American prisoners of war in addition to foreign students from China and Southeast Asia. 

The exact number and names of those who died remain a mystery because all official documents in administrative agencies were destroyed and many victims were never identified. Survivors thought that the injuries wreaked by the bomb were healing by December of 1945. However, a high percentage of people thought to be recovering later were struck with aftereffects ranging from keloid scars and cancers like leukemia. 

One of the most evocative statements I read at the Hall was though they mourned those who lost their lives, they recalled "with great sorrow the many lives sacrificed to mistaken national policy. To ensure that no such tragedies are ever repeated, we pledge to convey the truth of these events throughout Japan and around the world ..." The italics are mine for emphasis and to draw attention to the acknowledgment the Japanese government made mistakes in their aggression and sought to ensure truth won out over any attempts at coverups. I'm not sure an official American memorial would clearly state such an admission if the tables were turned. 

In the center of the hall, the water basin depicted 8:15 am, the exact time the atomic bomb was dropped. Water was used as a symbol for those who perished while begging for water. It has been estimated that 140,000 people died by the end of December 1945 as a result of the bombing. That's why 140,000 tiles were used on the wall to depict Hiroshima after the bombing. 

In the Memorial Hall were photos and names of remembered victims who had been exposed to the blast and were listed in the Hiroshima Register of Deceased Atomic Bomb Victims. Family looking for their loved ones in the Hall could use the handy technology. Seeing the photos brought the horror of war into immediate focus. 

At the start of the Pacific War, the Japanese military advanced quickly but by 1944 the war grew more severe for the Japanese and the possibility of an attack on their mainland became more threatening. Boys aged 15-19 volunteered for a special cadet system that allowed them to become junior officers by skipping a grade. Some were assigned to what was commonly known as the Akatsuki Corps or Dawn Corps. 

Steven and I watched a very moving film in which these young soldiers were trained to use a newly developed suicide attack boat for ramming enemy vessels called the Maru-Re. The suicide squad had to attend psychology lectures as they knew they would die in the missions but death wasn't considered 'scary' then, according to those interviewed.

On August 6, 1945, the child soldiers were still training daily for the suicide attacks but the dropping of the atomic bomb changed their mission. The Akatsuki Corps became the only functioning military unit in Hiroshima as it was based under five kilometers away from the bomb's hypocenter. The boys in the special cadet corps were tasked with carrying the corpses one by one to a central spot, clearing debris, and giving aid to the victims as best they could. As one young soldier said, "We walked through the city of death." Listening to their testimonies was harrowing.

The mission of the Peace Memorial Museum was to convey the actual damage wrought by the atomic bombing, the abolition of nuclear weapons, and lasting world peace. 

The Clock Tower displayed panels with numbers and cogwheels: one panel indicated the number of days since the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, and another the number of days since the last nuclear test. The latter indicated the level of protest from Hiroshima. The cogwheels were a virtual slap in the face of how close the world is toward the annihilation of humanity because the top wheel spins faster if the world shows signs of being in danger. The wheels will stop spinning when work is done toward destroying all nuclear weapons and people can coexist without the use of military force. 

Photos of Hiroshima before the bombing: 

The museum's message of the inhumane nature of nuclear weapons and to spread the hope of "No more Hiroshimas" was conveyed through belongings the victims left, survivors' testimonies, and stark photos.

People on Miyuki Bridge: A photographer said they "had hair that was scorched and frizzy ... their whole bodies were badly burnt ... sheets of burnt skin hung from them like rags. The scene through my viewfinder was blurred by tears that streamed down my face. This was hell."

After the bomb was dropped, a man reported the sky was "deep red, perhaps a sort of blackish red-orange. In any case, it was a vivid, intense color I'd never seen before."

The city in flames, 4,000 meters from the hypocenter: 

On the morning of August 6th, thousands of students were busy doing demolition work outside and became exposed to the atomic bomb. They died in pain and agony after suffering severe burns.

The iron girders from the top floor of a building 330 meters from the hypocenter were sheared by the powerful blast and grotesquely bent.

 

160 meters from the hypocenter at the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall, now the A-bomb Dome, were these fountain spouts in the Hall's courtyard.

Gravestones, exposed to the searing heat, were partially burned off.

An entire wall was devoted to graphic paintings and photographs illustrating the horrors of that day. 

Human Shadow Etched in Stone: These stone steps were at the entrance to the Hiroshima branch of the Sumitomo Bank The person sitting on the steps, likely waiting for the bank's opening, was thought to have died on the spot without the chance to escape, The bomb's intense heat turned the steps whitish but the stone underneath the person sitting on them remained dark like a shadow. Several families thought the person who died might have been a loved one. 

Black and sticky rain fell over people as they fled from the fires. Desperate to relieve their thirst, they drank the rain pouring down on them not realizing it was radioactive. A shirt showered with black rain:

It was like a kick to the gut reading about victims reaching relief stations set up in temporary locations only to die one after another as the demand for medicines couldn't keep up with the flood of victims. 

Messages were left on the stairway and in classrooms at an elementary school that became a relief center. Some let family members know they were safe while others asked about missing loved ones. 

One of the most disturbing images showed bodies being pulled from the river with fire hooks. 

This 21-year-old soldier was within 1,000 meters of the hypocenter when the bomb exploded. Three weeks later, his gums bled constantly, and blood spots - called spots of death - appeared all over his face and upper body. He died soon after the photo was taken by Gonichi Kimura on September 3rd. I can't begin to imagine what it must have been like for Kimura to record horrors like this.

Another tale that pulled at our heartstrings was this story of the Tricycle and Metal Helmet. Almost four-year-old Shiniichi Tetsutani was riding this trike when the bomb exploded. Suffering serious injuries and severe burns all over his body, Shinischi died that night, pleading for water.

His father, Nobuo, placed the helmet on his son's head and buried the tricycle and Shinichi in the backyard so he could ride his favorite toy even after his death. Forty years later, Nobuo wanted to put his son's remains in the family grave. When he dug them up, his son's skull was still intact inside the helmet. Nobuo also lost his seven-year-old daughter, Michiko, and one-year-old, daughter, Yoko, who were trapped and burned under their collapsed house. 

Away from home: Lives were destroyed by the atomic bomb without regard to their nationality or ethnic origin. Tens of thousands of Koreans, Chinese, and Taiwanese, as well as Japanese-Americans, lived in Hiroshima in August 1945. As I wrote earlier, American POWs became victims as did German priests and students from Southeast China. I wondered how American decision-makers factored in the location of their American brethren and where to drop the bomb in Japan. What an agonizing decision that had to have been. 

Graves of American POWs who lost their lives in the bombing: 

Hugo Lasalle, then 47, was a German priest who came up against the bombing from his church 1,230 meters from the hypocenter. With glass fragments piercing his back and a severely damaged left leg, he escaped the fire to a river bank. There he was rescued by German priests from Nagatsuka Monastery. After the war, Lasalle dedicated his life to building the Memorial Cathedral for World Peace where victims could be mourned and people could pray for a peaceful world. 

Tsuyomu Saeki, 33, was exposed to the bombing at Chugoku Regional Military Headquarters just 790 meters from the hypocenter. Because his 28-year-old wife, Tazuko, was in her last month of pregnancy, her parents went to Hiroshima to search for him but were unable to locate him. They were told a few days later by his colleague that he had died almost immediately. His wife was left with sons aged six and four and a newborn daughter born four days after her father died. Tazuko restarted her family's soba business and raised her children.

The Hiroshima War Orphans Foster Home was established in December 1945 as children who lost their parents suffered unimaginable sorrow.

Also left alone and behind when beloved spouses and children were killed by the atomic bomb were the elderly, many of whom lost the will to live. 

I didn't realize that many survivors lost their jobs and experienced hardship due to the lack of understanding of A-bomb diseases. They faced discrimination and the mistaken belief that A-bomb diseases were contagious. Even if they were employed, many survivors needed to take frequent breaks. But their co-workers said they had Bura bura byo or idlers' disease and treated them disparagingly.

I cannot begin to imagine the grief, sorrow, and despair wreaked by the bomb in the immediate aftermath of the bomb being dropped. What was it like years later for survivors and bereaved families when those emotions cast a shadow over happy moments and good times? Their pain never ended.

Steven and I could easily have spent hours more exploring the rest of the museum and its focus on the dangers of nuclear weapons, the bomb's development, the nuclear age, creating a peaceful world, and listening to survivors' testimonies. However, we were emotionally spent after viewing and reading so many horrific stories  - many I chose to omit here - that we needed a respite in the Peace Park. 

Visitors to the Bell of Peace were advised how precious the bell was, that it needed to be handled with care, to not strike the bell with great force, and that the bell should be struck gently only after sound reverberations had faded away. The bell was a symbol to let all nuclear arms and wars be gone so that all nations could live in peace. "May it be rung to all corners of the earth to meet the ear of every man." Certainly, a beautiful dream to behold.

We finished our tour of the hugely moving Peace Memorial Park with the Peace Clock Tower. 

Several weeks earlier I had told Steven how much I wanted to feast on a wagyu beef dinner before leaving Japan and moving on to China. As we had just one more night here in Japan, I was relieved Steven had found a very small and highly recommended steakhouse that also happened to be just a five-minute walk from our hotel!

The restaurant had just one table with ten seats and another eight spots around the counter. We were so, so lucky that we'd been able to snag two seats at the counter, the all-time primo spot in my mind so we could watch the two young chefs. Watching them was like poetry in motion.

Seeing the steaks placed on the grill made us think we'd be devouring at least one of them shortly but we had another hour to wait. No fast food here, that was for sure!

Once we finally were served the steak, it was mouthwatering and as tender as we could possibly have hoped. We savored every morsel especially as there was precious little of it. We hadn't been asked how we wanted the meat cooked and were delighted when it was presented to us rare.

Next post: Exploring nearby Miyajima Island.

Posted on August 1st, 2024 from our home near the Foothills west of Denver where four fires have been burning up and down the Front Range. One, the Quarry Fire, is far too close to home burning just a few miles from us in a heavily forested area. We've seen super scooper planes make passes overhead to pick up water from the reservoir at Chatfield State Park to dump on the mountainous terrain. Please take care of yourself and your loved ones especially if you also live near fire-prone areas.