VOSHN 113

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="105"><tr><td class="etesti">105</td><td class="edate">At the hypocenter on August 8<sup>th</sup>, 1945</td><td class="eage">12 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>We strode over bodies</td></tr></table><div class="largep"><p>I went to the hypocenter with my family to look for the place where our house used to stand.  I saw many bodies of boys lying scattered along the river.  They looked as old as I.  They must have been members mobilized in order to pull down houses and buildings in advance so that the fire caused by air raids wouldn't spread out.</p><p>We strode over their bodies.</p><br><p>I saw a man apparently looking for his son.  He turned over the tin roof sheet covering a body, held the body and cried, "I found my son here!"</p><br><p>We found the fire-devastated site of our house and went inside.  I carried my little brother on my back and casually stepped onto a brick.  Then the brick was crushed down.</p><p>My mother said, "It seems to have been a terrible bomb."</p></div></body>