VOSHN 217

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="203"><tr><td class="etesti">203</td><td class="edate">August 9<sup>th</sup>, 1945.  In the evening</td><td class="eage">25 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>I could hear shards of glass jingling in the patient's lung.</td></tr></table><div class="largep"><p>When the first truck full of bomb victims came into the Ohmura Navy Hospital, where I worked as a Military doctor, I thought the war had ended at last.  For I thought no men in uniform would be so mad as to continue the war when they realized such a savage weapon existed.</p><br><p>Most of those suffering had their hair burned into a frizz and clothes in rags.  They had burns and were covered all over in blood.  Their open wounds were covered with pieces of glass, wood, iron, or other things.</p><p>Have you seen fences on top of which broken pieces of beer bottles or glass were embedded for protection against burglars?  The victims were in a mess just like such fences.  They had inhaled chips of glass into their lungs.  Even without my stethoscope, I could hear them jingling in their lungs as they breathed.</p><br><p>In fact, I put my ear to the patients' breasts and listened for their heartbeats.  Thus I knew if they were dead or alive.</p><br><p>You can't believe a twig or a leaf will pierce something as a projectile, can you?  Actually, however, I saw something like a twig pierced someone's skull, just like an ornament stuck in the hair.  Unbelievable things could happen, indeed. </p></div></body>