VOSHN 134

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="126"><tr><td class="etesti">126</td><td class="edate">About August 13<sup>th</sup>, 1945</td><td class="eage">29 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>It was a tiny thing that my skin was dangling on my arms.</td></tr></table><div class="largep"><p>Medical treatment team arrived in one week after the A-bomb fell.  I thought to get medical treatment and I went to the rescue station.</p><p>I noticed that how people were so terribly wounded!  The fact that my skin was dangling on my arms couldn't be really counted as a wound anymore.</p><br><p>The badly wounded persons had maggots creeping, right here, on their backs.  Their backs were infested with maggots.  They were constantly groaning in pain.  But at best they were applied the medicine, only a few drips of Akachin (Mercurochrome).</p><p>You know, they were making long lines, enduring the scorching weather, and waiting just for a mere application.  It was a tiny thing that my skin was dangling on my arms.  Honestly, I felt ashamed of saying, "Please, consult me."  So I went back without being consulted.</p></div></body>