VOSHN 39

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="035"><tr><td class="etesti">035</td><td class="edate">In the morning on August 6<sup>th</sup>, 1945</td><td class="eage">46 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>Thousands of people with severe burn injuries were coming to escape.</td></tr></table><div class="largep"><p>Rain, black rain, started to fall.  I wondered what was the matter, and the next moment I saw hundreds, well, thousands of people coming up from the other side of the river.  Everyone was naked and had severe burns all over.  Their skin was peeling and dangling from their bodies like rags.  As they walked in the rain, rainwater collected in the folds of the dangling skin and then it overflowed.  They went into the river, crossed it, and dragged themselves out onto the bank on this side.  Crying, "Water!  Water, please!" they collapsed one after another.</p><br><p>There was a great crowd of people on the river bank.  Some covered themselves with tin sheets, some with <i>futon</i> (quilts) to shelter themselves from the rain.  What I thought was a woman and maybe in her early 40s, with no hair and horrible burns all over her body, said "I'm cold," even though it was August 6, in high summer.  Well, she was thoroughly soaked.  She pleaded with me, "Could I borrow your <i>futon</i>, Mister?"  I hesitated about lending her my <i>futon</i>, for she looked so awful.</p></div></body>