Mr. Tanimoto, attempting to ferry survivors across the debris-strewn river, reached out to a woman floating in the water. Her skin, seared by the heat, peeled away like gloves at his touch. Overwhelmed by nausea, he could only pause for a moment before resuming his desperate rescue efforts.
Few hours ago, on the crisp morning of August 6th, 1945, at precisely 8:15 AM, the world changed forever.
Air:
A solitary enemy flight, one small bomb dropped from the air, and a sound less blinding flash whiter than any white engulfed Hiroshima. People nearby vanished in an instant, leaving only ghostly outlines etched onto the stone where they once stood. These were the lucky ones. Hell awaited survivers.
Buildings crumbled like sandcastles, and a monstrous wind flung people through the air. The dead lay everywhere – on the roads, floating in the river, even hanging from the defiant branches of trees that somehow remained upright.
The bomb’s power, equivalent to over 20,000 tons of TNT, unleashed a heat of 6,000 degrees Celsius, incinerating everything in its path.
Fire:
Fire, the cruel companion of the blast, quickly consumed the city. Beyond the epicenter, infernos raged as flammable debris ignited cooking stoves and sparked live wires.
The air crackled with confusion. Was it a single, monstrous bomb? Had the Americans rained down gasoline? Some whispered of “Molotov bread baskets” or may be “genshi bakudan,” the original child bomb.
Hiroshima, a city of 240,000, was ripped apart in a single blow. Nearly 100,000 perished instantly, and countless more were grievously injured. But this was only the beginning of the horror.
Young teenagers, their voices choked with emotion, sang the national anthem before drawing their last breaths. They believed they were dying for a noble cause, a sacrifice welcomed with pride. Others met their fate with a stoic acceptance, muttering “shikata ga nai” – it cannot be helped. Still others harbored a deep hatred for the Americans, a loathing that would fester for years to come.
Mr. Tanimoto, a Japanese Catholic, was one of the fortunate few left unscathed. Torn between Christian compassion for the suffering and Japanese gnawing shame at his own survival, he witnessed sights that would forever scar his memory. Mutilated bodies writhed in a desperate struggle to cling to life. Naked figures, their flesh seared raw, ran screaming through the streets. Others bore the ghostly imprints of their clothing, the darker colors absorbing more heat and leaving behind a macabre pattern of burns.
A young woman, Mrs. Kamai, clutched her lifeless infant, her heart filled with a single, desperate wish: for her husband to see their child one last time.
Medical aid was scarce, and doctors were forced to prioritize those with a sliver of hope, leaving the critically injured to succumb to their wounds. The dead received a more dignified fate. Proper burial, in Japanese culture, was a paramount duty, even more than the fate of survivors.
On August 15th, the Emperor’s voice crackled through the radio for the first time ever. People felt elated to hear the emperors voice during the trying times as tears came down their eyes. Others felt a bitter sting of defeat, forced to swallow their pride.
Water:
September brought renewed devastation. A torrential downpour, followed by a raging typhoon, unleashed a watery hell upon the already ravaged city. Buildings, bridges, and trees that had somehow withstood the bomb were swept away. The Ono Army Hospital, along with its patients and doctors, was tragically lost to the floodwaters. Could the flood wash away the horrors of sexual slavery, massacres, human experiments, and forced labor that Japnese soldiers committed in China and Korea?
Even after months the horror was not over. Radiation sickness became a grim reaper, claiming countless lives. Some succumbed quickly, others recovered slowly, forever marked by the invisible enemy.
Earth:
Earth always recovers. Amidst the desolation, life asserted itself. Weeds slowly choked the ashes, and wildflowers bloomed defiantly among the city’s skeletal remains. The bomb, in its destructive fury, had inadvertently stimulated the growth of these wild plants. It was a sign that Japan too would bloom soon, and they did.
Why did US drop the bomb?
US wanted the world to believe that it was necessary. It saved lives of not just US, but also of Japanese by stopping the bloody war. To be honest, Japan’s defeat was certain once Germany surrendered. Most of the forces of Allied powers could now be diverted East. US had to act and be ahead of Russia. Pearl Harbour was the perfect excuse to get the people support the army.
The uranium bomb of Hiroshima was followed by a more powerful plutonium bomb in Nagasaki. It was a message from US to Communist Russia.
No one can deny that some Japanese military leaders harbored ultranationalist views and believed in the concept of a “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere,” a Japanese-dominated bloc in Asia. Japan wanted to be like the European bullies, but they were not strong enough. Korea and China breathed easy with Japan tamed.
But the people who were really happy with US war economy were a few major US corporations. General Motors’ president, Charles Wilson, was so happy with the economic results that he suggested the country adopt a “permanent war economy.”
As the powerful, and poignant, African proverb says: ‘When the elephants fight, the grass gets trampled.’ Unfortunately, the innocent civilians are always the grass when war breaks out.
Review:
“Hiroshima” by John Hersey is a poignant account of the aftermath of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. The book provides a detailed chronicle of six survivors, their experiences during and after the event, and the impact on their lives. It explores the immediate and long-term effects of the bombing, both physically and psychologically, providing a profound understanding of the human cost of nuclear warfare.
The narrative is deeply moving, focusing on individual stories rather than the broader political or military context. This approach instills a sense of empathy and personal connection, transforming the abstract horror of atomic warfare into tangible, human experiences. The book sheds light on the resilience and perseverance of the survivors, known as hibakusha, in the face of unimaginable adversity.
Despite the tragic subject matter, “Hiroshima” ultimately underscores the indomitable spirit of humanity and the enduring hope for peace. It remains a powerful cautionary tale of the devastating consequences of nuclear weapons, advocating for their abolition to prevent future atrocities.
Verdict: Must read ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
