VOSHN 211

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="197"><tr><td class="etesti">197</td><td class="edate">August 9<sup>th</sup>, 1945.  A little before one o'clock in the afternoon</td><td class="eage">20 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>The injured persons made a stepping stone of other injured persons.</td></tr></table><div class="largep"><p>It was frustrating for us (engine drivers) just to see our crewmen having a hard time hoisting the victims onto the train deck, but we could not leave the engine and help them.  Looking at their struggle on the outsides of the engine, we couldn't do anything else except wandering in the engine room.</p><br><p>The train deck was almost as high as the chest of a man standing on the ground, so it was quite hard to climb onto it.  Especially for the sufferers who were so weak with serious injuries, it was too high to climb on their own.  Those who already got on the deck tried to help such poor victims, pulling them up by the hand.  As they pulled their hands, however, their skin came off, leaving them still on the ground with skinless hands.</p><br><p>There were many who barely reached the train, but then fell down there.  They never moved again without getting on.  Then, other people jostled each other, trying to climb onto the train by stepping on the backs of the fallen.  When thrown into a panic, I imagine anyone would behave like them.</p><br><p>What I heard then was not human crying but bestial howling.  It was really hell on earth.</p></div></body>