Document:
Memories of Kimiko Takai of the Hiroshima explosion (she was 5 years old at the time)
Source [link within this page]:
Arata Osada (ed), Children of Hiroshima: An Appeal from the Children of Hiroshima (1951)
Available online at the A-Bomb WWW Museum
Comments:
We need consider issues of time, memory and then reactions to the use of the bomb in considering this document.
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I shiver whenever I think of August 6, 1945, the day when Hiroshima was destroyed in just a few minutes.
I and a friend were playing at a neighbor's house when I heard the roar of an airplane.
"It's an airplane," I said. Right then, there was a flash. I was so afraid that I hung on to the next-door lady, but she was more scared than I was. She shook me loose and threw her arms around her husband. Then she took a cloth band out of a drawer and tied it around her waist. After that, she and her husband ran out of the house.
My playmate Tatsuko and I didn't know what to do. Suddenly, it got dark and something began to drop from the ceiling. We were so frightened that we just hung on to each other with our eyes wide open. It got lighter and lighter and after a while I heard Tatsuko's mother calling for her. She sounded very worried.
She took Tatsuko with her and I was left alone. I started to cry. A neighbor with dirt all over her face came out of the wreckage and said, "Don't cry. Your mother is near by."
She ran off, too, and I was alone again. A little later, I heard my sister's voice through my sobs. I listened carefully. I could hear her calling, "Kimiko! Kimiko!" with all her might. I was so glad that my eyes got full of tears. My mother came, too.
"Oh, Kimiko, I'm so glad to find you. And now your sister. Where could she be? I hope she hasn't been burned. Maybe, she's already dead," my mother said.
But we couldn't waste time. We were scared and wanted to get to a safe place.
As we walked along, we saw soldiers with bloated stomachs floating down the river. They probably had to dive into the river to get away from the flames. A little father on, we saw many dead people piled up at the side of the road. As we walked on, my father saw a woman whose leg was caught under a large timber. She couldn't get free so he shouted for help but no one came. Everyone was too busy trying to get away to pay any attention to anyone else. Finally, my father shouted angrily, "Aren't any of you Japanese?" Then he got the woman loose by sawing off her leg with a rusty, old saw.
Further on, we saw a man who must have been burned to death while he was walking.
Mother said that she couldn't go any further and told us to go on without her. She sat down to rest but we couldn't go on by ourselves, leaving her behind. Then she scooped up a handful of muddy water from the roadside and drank it. This must have made her feel better because she got up and joined us again. We stayed with our relatives for about a month.
After we arrived, Mother complained that her back hurt. I looked at her back and found a piece of glass about 3/4 inches wide and 1 1/2 inches long stuck in it. It had gone in quite deep because she had been carrying my brother on her back. We went to see a doctor and learned that we had been rather lucky. Many people had died and hundreds had been injured.
From the next day, Father went out looking for my sister. The bomb had exploded over Aioi Bridge, near the Hiroshima post office where my sister worked. She must have died without time to call for her mother or even to say, "Oh!" My uncle and aunt had gone to a place near the post office to collect some manure that day and both were killed. Their ashes were brought back to us, though. Not even my sister's ashes have come back to us.
All but one of the workers at the post office was killed. He picked up the remains of the other workers and then took a little of the ashes to each of the dead persons' families. We put the ashes before God and prayed that my sister would rest in peace