I went to the area swept by the flames with my children. On my way, I heard many voices saying, "Give me water..., give me water..." from here and there. I felt sorry for them and sometimes just turned back to take a brief look at them. Another American aircraft came flying. We didn't have any places and shelters to go. At that time, leaving mountains for the burned-out area meant that one prepared to die.
Everyone tried to persuade me not to leave the mountain, but I really hoped to get my children to see their father, who was thought to be somewhere in this burnt-out area.
Dead people were lying on their back. They had runny noses. Their snot was as long as a little finger. Each of the snot had different colors. They were yellow, red and blue.
The most miserable scene was that a boy, who was like a junior high school student, was dead with a reinforcing bar stuck in his back. He was lying with his hands and feet up, just like a frog was pierced its back with a stick.
I kept making my way with my children.