I WANT to erase this unpleasant, disgusting memory from my brain. The August 6 comes again this year as usual.

On the fateful day of August 6, 1945, I was a third year student of science department, Hiroshima Teacher’s College. (now Hiroshima University Teacher’s Course for Mathematics). About the middle days of my first year, we often heard that the war condition was getting worse and the war front expanded limitlessly. Almost all students were drafted to the army. But we were still in the college because we were Teacher candidates in the future. But the situation changed gradually. Students of the humanities were also drafted, only the students of the natural sciences like us were allowed to remain.

The war continued to worsen. We were at last mobilised in April as workers at the Mitsubishi shipyard in Eba town of Hiroshima city. The shipyard built ten thousand-ton class troop transports vessels. The first task assigned to me was electric welding of steel plates by wearing bulky work suits made of hard cloth containing lead. But after a while I was transferred to a trainer’s position for students from Shudo middle school and Hiroshima Commerce high school. Our quarters was an inn called Kinsuikan located in Miyajima, a famous scenic site. We commuted to the shipyard by boat. It took about an hour to go. We were always exposed to the dangers of air raid by American fighter planes from US aircraft carriers and contact with mines. We had prepared pieces of wooden board on the boat for substitutes of life jackets. Two hours spent on commuting were precious for resting and reading books. On food, we were always hungry. Rice mixed with ground soyabeans, or Eba dumpling made from ground wheat and mugwort grass were the best feast for us.

THE 6th OF AUGUST

We departed from Miyajima port and arrived at the shipyard of Eba a few minutes to eight o’clock as usual. It was hot and the sky was clear without any peace of clouds. Just before eight, an air raid siren sounded. We took cover while complaining, because we were already accustomed to the siren. Soon the warning was cancelled. The morning meeting was held as usual, and a roll call of the junior high school students was conducted as well. I went up to the second floor for desk work. I was checking the student attendance while directing my back was facing to the hypocentre. Suddenly, a bluish white light flashed like an electric welding spark, gas welding torch, or magnesium burning at a time. The world went white.

I instinctively thought that this was a big accident of the gas supply company in Kannon-district or in the transformer substation in Misasa. I rushed to the window widely open to the outside for ventilation. I saw the direction of the possible accident. I witnessed a yellowish scarlet plume rising like a candle fire high in the sky surrounded by pitch black swirling smoke. (As I had no idea of an A-bomb at that time, I never imagined that a mushroom cloud was about to rise). At the same moment, from apart, houses levitated a little and then crushed down to the ground like domino pieces. It was just like a white wave head coming toward me while standing on the beach. The wave steadily approached (This was later called blast shock wave). I felt terrible for the first time. I had to do something, the second floor I stayed would have soon crushed down. My friend near by Yoshikawa shouted something. I dashed under the desk and held my breath awaiting something to come. It was just a few seconds that I saw the flash and got beneath the desk.

Then, suddenly the floor fell down with a big sound. A massive cloud of dust rose up. I got frozen at that point. I felt the bomb exploded right in front of me. But no explosion took place. I felt beyond all doubt that the bomb was a blind shell and I crept out slowly. I found the floor fell down by the blast.

My friend shouted "Your right eye is hurt!" I touched my eye only to feel blood clot on my palm. But I didn’t feel any pain at all. The blast shattered the window panes to smithereens and scattering pieces must have penetrated my eyelid. Flowing blood got into my eye and I lost eyesight. I leaned against the shoulder of my friend to hurry to the infirmary room of the office in staggering. Surprisingly, two to three hundred of wounded people were already in a queue. Almost all of them had suffered a burn. I later learned that many people in the queue died. I was still lucky in a misfortune because I was not directly exposed to the flash. All the injuries were on my face. Any attempts to stop bleeding failed. Blood kept flowing. My clothes were stained by the blood that might have given an impression that I was seriously injured. I was pulled out to the front of the queue and was put in four stitches only after receiving a simple disinfection. How lucky I was. My eyeballs were fine. When my eyelid was cut, the skin hung down and blood entered my eye causing a temporary blind.

It was said that there was no other way to ease the burn victims only to apply white ointment. I was then put on a wooden board and laid down on the floor of a building that was slanted by the blast wind. On my chest was a paper tag on which my name, birthplace, age and blood type were written. Around me were many burn victims groaning of pain. Skins of the living people were decaying and releasing intolerable odor. People were agonizing and steadily dying under groaning "ouch, ouch, water, water." I was laid down among them. I was not sure what time it was, I saw once a blue cloudless sky covered by a pitch black cloud in the direction of Koi and it looked like a torrential rain. Around 3 pm, the Enamimaru ferry came to pick us up. I returned to the quarters in Miyajima. On the next morning, the August 7, healthy people went to Hiroshima for cleaning the city. But the injured were left to rest in the quarters.

Today, I went to the shipyard in Eba along with friends of mine. My face was almost completely wrapped by bandage except for my left eye. Then I went to central Hiroshima. As there was no means of transportation, I had to go all the way on foot. I first visited Matsuoka in the Minami Kan-non district where I had stayed at. Nothing was left behind. Blasted apart in the mid-air, or burnt up, I didn’t know. Even a trace was not there. Of course, my belongings such as bed, books, and others did not remain in shape. I didn’t know whether my uncle and aunt Matsuoka survived or not. Even today, I don’t know their whereabouts. I had no choice except wandering down to the school in Higashisendamachi. As far as the eye could reach, all were completely incinerated down to ashes. Only the destroyed concrete walls dotted the landscape. On the left and right were countless corpses not taken away yet. Some people were checking the corpses to seek for their relatives. Others piled up half burnt wood of the houses to cremate the remains. I wandered around the town filled with death smell.

When I came down to a bridge, soldiers of the Akatsuki troops were picking up a tremendous number of corpses out of the river bottom using landing crafts. All corpses were completely naked. Some corpses remained with their hands up, others twisted the legs in agony. They were bloated up by water in pale white. The scene was too eerie to recall even today.

I finally arrived at the college through Takano bridge. All wooden college buildings and dormitories were completely burnt down to wreckage. Only the library on the right and the outer frame of the science laboratory buildings at the back were spared. At the side of the front entrance, a burnt corpse of a horse was left releasing intolerable stench.

Realising nothing was left, I went to the burnt down site of the Hashimotos, my friend whose husband went to war and only the women were left. Since I had helped them by building an underground bomb shelter and put important things into it, I was worrying about them.

I was relieved to find evidence of the buried things dug out, because that was a sign that my friends survived.( Several years ago, I went to Hiroshima but there was no clue to ask whereabouts of Hashimoto’s family.)

Then I walked down to Shiragamisha through the avenue of the street car to get a sufferer certificate in front of the municipal square. I didn’t care at all my miserable feature wrapped in bandages because almost all people were injured and wandered around the streets like zombies in bandages, also. A street car burnt down with only a steel frame remaining sat in the centre of the street. Electric poles were tilted and burnt wires were swinging inside the window.

I turned left at the crossing of Kamiya block and walked down through the wreckage of Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall (later called A-bomb dome), the T-shaped bridge of Aioi, Dobashi, and the Fukushima district. I continued walking heading toward the Ibi district.

As far as the eye could reach, all the town was burnt down to ashes, dotted with outer concrete walls of what once were the buildings. Burnt tin plates were making creaky noises in the radioactive window. I passed the debris, wreckage avoiding rug-covered dead bodies.

I finally arrived at Ibi station through the death town where there was no sign of even a single life. It was filled with the smell of the corpses. I got on a Miyajima street car and went back to the inn. I strolled around the death town for eight days, several hours each day. How silly I was. I really regret my foolish behaviour of wandering.

No more. I don’t want to witness again such a hell on earth. I don’t want to even recollect it. This is the limit of what I can post.