VOSHN 11

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="008"><tr><td class="etesti">008</td><td class="edate">On the morning of August 6<sup>th</sup>, 1945</td><td class="eage">41 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>I will be a substitute for you today.</td></tr></table><table summary="haikei"><tr><td class="bg" background="../../photo/img111.jpg"><div class="large"><p>In the morning on August 6, I was upstairs writing a post card to my father who lived in the countryside.  Then, my wife came up and said to me, "Now I am going to go for the building deconstruction work (<i>Tatemono Sokai</i>: to deconstruct some houses in order to make space in the residential area so that the spread of a fire can be checked).  I will be a substitute for you today."  These were the last words she spoke to me.</p><p>She said, "I will be a substitute for you today."  She died that day , and I am left alive.</p><p>Had my wife had a premonition of parting?  Her last words have puzzled me ever since she died.</p></div></td></tr></table></body>