Hiroshima, Part 1

Imagine a warm, clear, beautiful summer's morning. You may be ready to start an ordinary day's work. Or waiting for school to begin with the rest of your classmates. Or simply at home with your family. The date is the 6th of August 1945 and you live in Hiroshima. It gets to 8.15am. And everything changes forever as history's first atomic bomb is dropped on your city. 

A recovered watch from the time the A-bomb struck Hiroshima at 8.15am.

From where you're positioned, you see an immense, bright, yellow light as the bomb goes off. Its intensity is so strong that even shadows disappear. Although you have ducked for cover, you are still pounded by the explosively powerful force of the bomb, as well as its extreme, charring heat. You don't realise this at the time, but this heat has melted your skin. Later, one survivor will describe this moment as 'like being roasted alive many times over'*. If that isn't enough, an all-encompassing sound, louder than anything you've heard before, blasts through your ears and engulfs the city as the buildings come crashing down. All of this happens within a matter of seconds. And then chaos erupts as the realisation of what has happened hits those who are still conscious, with life resuming, never to be the same again.**

Drawing by Horikoshi Susumu, 6 years old in August 1945.
Image from http://ocw.mit.edu/ans7870/21f/21f.027/groundzero1945/gz_essay02.html 

Making my way through the Peace Memorial Museum in Hiroshima, it's difficult to imagine the horrors that Hiroshima's people were confronted with in the bomb's aftermath. Photographs lining the walls of the museum help to tell the story of the heartbreaking devastation caused to these innocent victims: civilians with charred, blackened skin; others with hair burnt off; and some with severely disfigured bodies. It's difficult not to look away from these confronting images, and despite being a keen history enthusiast, I guiltily do so a couple of times as the pain and torment evoked from the pictures is too much to take in at once.

Drawing by Matsumura Kazuo , 32 years old in August 1945. Image from http://ocw.mit.edu/ans7870/21f/21f.027/groundzero1945/gz_essay04.html

Hiroshima was the first choice out of three other Japanese cities for the atomic bomb to be dropped on (Nagasaki was bombed three days later). Hiroshima was chosen as it had been relatively untouched during the war. With this being the first ever use of a nuclear weapon during wartime, it was important to record the magnitude of damage caused by the bomb as accurately as possible, making this untouched city a prime target. Tragically, it was innocent civilians who were the targets of this attack; an attack which brought the Pacific War to its end. The total number of victims has been difficult to determine, but it's estimated that 70,000 people were killed instantly, and another 70,000 people died within five years of the bomb due to radiation. Not to mention the thousands of other victims who died from diseases relating to radiation years later. One such victim was Sadako Sasaki, who lived in Hiroshima and was two years old when the bomb struck. She died of leukemia in 1955, and has since become a symbol of innocent victims of war.

A memorial for Sadako was unveiled in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park in 1958. She is holding a golden crane. When Sadako learnt of her illness, she made a goal of folding 1000 paper cranes, based on the ancient Japanese story which grants a wish to anyone who completes this task. 

Later, as I'm walking around Hiroshima, I still feel stunned by the fact that merely sixty eight years earlier this city was completely obliterated. None of the high rise buildings around me existed. The beautifully expansive park I was walking through earlier was unrecognizable and reduced to ash. In fact, it was thought that no plants would grow in Hiroshima for at least 75 years following the a-bomb. But the trees and plants lining the streets and pathways of the city prove otherwise. 

Past and present: Genbaku Dome in the foreground with Hiroshima's cityscape behind

Nevertheless, reminders of this harrowing event are still dispersed throughout the city. Nothing acts as more of a haunting reminder than the looming skeleton of the infamous Genbaku (A-Bomb) Dome. This dome, which was formerly the Hiroshima Prefectural Commercial Exhibition Hall, was the only structure left standing in the vicinity of where the bomb was dropped. Cruelly, despite the building's survival, everyone inside it was killed at the time.

The remains of Genbaku Dome today

But thanks to the optimistic spirit and sheer resilience of its people, Hiroshima has been rebuilt into the bustling and vibrant metropolis that it is today. Within this bustle and vibrancy is also a city that has not forgotten its heartbreaking past, promoting 'Peace' to the rest of the world. From commemorative monuments like The Gates of Peace which state 'Peace' on them in 49 different languages; to the establishment of the Mayors for Peace organisation which urges world leaders to abolish the use of nuclear weapons, Hiroshima is clearly a city that has dedicated itself to living and promoting a legacy of peace. As such, it was a wonderful city to visit and spend a few days in - we'll have more stories from there for you soon.

A passing security officer pays his respects to the victims of the atomic bomb at The Memorial Cenotaph, which holds the names of all of the known people killed by the bomb.

The inscription from another monument reads, 'Mourning the lives lost in the atomic bombings, we pledge to convey the truth of this tragedy throughout Japan and the world pass it on to the future, learn the lessons of history, and build a peaceful world free from nuclear weapons.'

* taken from the testimony of Takehiko Sakai, http://www.atomicarchive.com/Docs/Hibakusha/Takehiko.shtml
** inspired by testimonies taken from the following websites:  http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.com/hiroshima.htm; http://www.atomicarchive.com/Docs/Hibakusha/