VOSHN 212

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="198"><tr><td class="etesti">198</td><td class="edate">August 9<sup>th</sup>, 1945.  Early time in afternoon</td><td class="eage">47 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>The mailman was standing, but dead.</td></tr></table><div class="largep"><p>At the Michinoo station, the train was waiting.  The coal tub that was close behind the locomotive engine was filled with injured persons who were wrapped in bandages.  All the passenger cars were also loaded with similar sufferers.  I wondered for a moment if I should look for my wife and child among them, but I was more inclined to go home first and see if they had stayed there.</p><br><p>I started walking along the line of railway.  Both sides of the tracks were littered with dead bodies and injured persons wrapped in bandages and crying for help.  I couldn't help striding over them to make my way.</p><br><p>When I managed to come to the rail bridge, what is now called Oohashi (district), I saw the wood crossties of the bridge were on fire.  Yet I went over the bridge, where I found a mailman standing dead with his protruding eyeballs hanging down.  It was too horrible a scene to describe.</p></div></body>