BIOGRAPHICAL
INFORMATION
John Hersey
(1914 - 1993)
Category: Chinese Literature
Born: June 17, 1914
Tientsin, China
Died: March 23, 1993
Key West, Florida, United States
Related authors:
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John Richard Hersey was born in Tientsin, China, on June 17, 1914, to American
missionaries Roscoe M. and Grace (Baird) Hersey. Growing up in China, Hersey was out of the
mainstream when it came to American attitudes and culture. He spoke Chinese fluently. Hersey
exercised his imagination with reading and writing. He attended the British Grammar School and
the American School. Later in life, he reported that his memories of growing up in China included
a pretty “normal” childhood.
Education
A major change occurred when Hersey was ten: His father became ill with encephalitis, and the
family returned to America and settled in Briarcliff Manor, New York. Hersey became thoroughly
“Americanized” during his adolescence. He attended Hotchkiss Preparatory School, where he
worked as a waiter and janitor. His undergraduate years were spent at Yale University from 1932
to 1936. Graduating from Yale, Hersey continued his education on a Mellon Scholarship at Clare
College, Cambridge University, where he studied eighteenth century English literature. At both
Yale and Cambridge, he worked in various jobs as a waiter, librarian, lifeguard, and tutor. Hersey
never experienced a life of privilege, and it is possible that the jobs he held while attending
college gave him a sympathy for the “common man” that would later show up in his writings.
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Early Career
During the summer of 1937, Hersey was a secretary and gofer for Sinclair Lewis. He left that
employment in the fall to apprentice at Time magazine, a business relationship that would extend
through 1945. In 1939, he returned to China as a war correspondent at the Chungking bureau of
Time. In this capacity, he traveled throughout China and Japan, sending dispatches of military
action and interviewing important leaders. During his career, Hersey’s writings appeared in Time,
Life, and the New Yorker.
Hersey married twice during his lifetime and had four children. In 1940, he married Frances Ann
Cannon, the daughter of a cotton goods manufacturer in Charlotte, North Carolina. They had
three children: Martin Cannon, John Richard, Jr., and Baird. This marriage ended in divorce in
1958. He later married Barbara Day Addams Kaufman. They had a daughter, Brook.
Hersey published two books in 1942 and 1943: Men on Bataan and Into the Valley. Men on
Bataan is an account of the fighting in the Philippines. It contains fifty stories of enlisted men, as
well as chapters about General MacArthur. The book, which received positive reviews, reveals
Hersey’s concerns with how democracy could function in a time of war. Hersey’s experience in
the South Pacific and at the Battle of the Solomons led to his month-long stay on Guadalcanal.
He experienced war firsthand and saw the terrible hardships that were placed on the fighting
men. For helping evacuate the wounded, Hersey later received a letter of commendation from
Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox. Into the Valley, published in 1943, is about the experiences of
the fighting men in the Pacific Theater. Here, Hersey studied the combat soldier’s reaction to
danger, the war, and the enemies. He began a theme that would continue throughout his career:
his study of why and how men survived under terrible conditions. Survival became a key idea in
his thinking and writing.
From 1943 to 1945, Hersey worked out of Sicily and Russia. During this time, many of his writings
for Life magazine were about returning veterans, the victims of war, and the occupation troops.
He also wrote about John F. Kennedy’s heroic experience with the PT 109, continuing his interest
in survival under harsh conditions.
A Bell for Adano was published in 1944 and won Hersey the Pulitzer Prize on May 8, 1945. It is the
story of a small, occupied village in Italy that is temporarily run by Major Victor Joppolo, the military
governor and a man of Italian descent, who tries to teach democratic ideals to the villagers. Joppolo
attempts to retrieve the town’s missing bell, which had rung in the steeple for 700 years. Various town
characters appear, and General Marvin, the antagonist of the story, thwarts Joppolo in his efforts.
While some see Marvin as a thinly veiled George S. Patton, others interpret him as an example of the
dangers of modern corporate society or the nation state, running operations with expediency at a cost
to individual freedoms. Hersey developed his story after studying the work of a military governor for an
article for Life. His novel is a hymn to the common man who steps up to a position where he can help
people. An example of democracy in action, Hersey’s story was turned into both a Broadway play and
a motion picture. Then, from 1944 to 1945, he was on assignment in China and Japan for Life and the
New Yorker.
In 1946, he published Hiroshima first in its entirety in the New Yorker on August 31, and later as a
novel in October. Based on the explosion of the first nuclear bomb in 1945, the novel attempts to take
the extraordinary and inexplicable event and show how it impacts ordinary human lives. It personalized
the event so that Americans, as well as a worldwide audience, could begin to understand the
repercussions of the bombing.
The 1950s saw four more books from Hersey, beginning with The Wall in 1950. Hersey had seen the
German concentration camps in Estonia and the Warsaw ruins where 500,000 Jews had died. His
book confronted the ability of man to deal with totalitarian governments and posed the question, “Can
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man be morally responsible for himself?” Again he personalized an event of unimaginable horror. In
1953, he published The Marmot Drive, a novel about New England that studied modern lives cut off
from the traditions of the past. It received poor reviews. A Single Pebble, published in 1956, was about
the journey of a young American engineer up the Yangtze River during the 1920s. It allowed Hersey to
consider his relationship as a modern American with the Orient. In 1959, Hersey published The War
Lover, continuing a theme of the paradox of those who love war and fight an enemy within.
The dilemma is how can a man so love to make war and kill but also learn a natural reverence for life?
Admiration for a man’s will to survive instead of a love of killing is what finally comes through in
Hiroshima.
Teaching
By 1960, Hersey turned his efforts to education, racism, and the disenchantment of 1960's students.
He wrote The Child Buyer in 1960, a novel that reflected some of the educational thinking of that time.
Hersey was keenly aware of the movement to produce more scientists, technicians, mathematicians,
and engineers at the expense of schools that foster individual fulfillment. Returning to his theme of
survival, Hersey wrote Here to Stay in 1963, a series of articles about people who survived in the face
of natural disasters. A history of the African American in the U.S. titled White Lotus, written in 1965, is
an ambitious book that tells the story of racial history in America by paralleling the enslavement of
Caucasians by the Chinese. The disenchantment of the mid-1960s is the subject of Too Far to Walk,
published in 1966.
During the period from 1965 to 1970, Hersey returned to Yale as Master of Pierson College. There he
taught, mentored, and wrote books that dramatized and personalized issues such as fascism, racism,
and the Holocaust. He spent 1970 to 1971 on leave from Yale at the American Academy in Rome. His
relationship with Yale continued as an adjunct professor of English until his retirement in 1984.
Later Years
In his august years, Hersey continued to write on issues of modern society. He wrote two nonfiction
books about education and racism called The Algiers Motel Incident (1968) and Letter to the Alumni
(1970). The Conspiracy (1972) used Roman history to explore issues of modern society. Hersey edited
The Writer’s Craft in 1974, a book of essays about writing. In this particular edition, Hersey included an
interview with Ralph Ellison.
During the 1980s, Hersey continued to write and also visit sites from his past. In June 1980, he
published Aspects of the Presidency. The following year, he visited Tientsin and a number of Chinese
sites that he had not seen since 1946. The highly personal novel The Call and a new edition of
Hiroshima with an epilogue on the fortieth anniversary of the bombing were published in 1985. In
addition to these writings and trips were two novels called Blues in 1987 and Life Sketches in 1989. His
last publication was in 1990—a book of stories called Fling and Other Stories.
John Hersey preferred to call his books “novels of contemporary history” instead of the more widely
used “nonfiction novels.” No matter how Hersey’s novels are classified, they delve into issues of any
society—issues such as racism, education, democracy, and personal freedom. Hersey had an amazing
ability to take extreme disasters of epic proportion such as the Holocaust or the detonating of a nuclear
bomb and personalize them so that the average reader could feel their impact on the individual. His
faith in democracy and his belief in the ability of the common person to take on heroic tasks were
continuing themes in his career as an author and journalist.
Throughout his career, John Hersey was active in organizations as a writer and involved in public
issues as a private citizen. He joined the Authors League of America in 1948, becoming an officer and
an active member. In 1953, he was the youngest writer ever asked to join the American Academy of
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Arts and Letters. In 1954, he became a member of the National Citizens Committee for the Public
Schools and pursued his interest in writing and speaking about education. At the White House Arts
Festival in 1965, he did a public reading from Hiroshima.
Before his death in 1993, Hersey was recognized by Yale University for his contributions to journalism
and literature. Yale established the annual John Hersey Lecture, an avenue for bringing writers to the
campus to talk about their work. Hersey died on March 24, 1993, at the age of 78.
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About the Novel - A Brief Synopsis
On August 6, 1945, the first atomic bomb is dropped from an American plane on the 245,000
residents of Hiroshima, Japan. Most of the city is destroyed and thousands of its inhabitants die.
Some of its citizens survive and suffer the debilitating effects of terrible burns and radiation
illness. The lives of six of those survivors are recounted in the days following the bombing.
When the bomb detonates, Mrs. Hatsuyo Nakamura is watching her neighbor’s house and
overseeing her sleeping children; all end up covered in debris when their house is destroyed.
Miss Toshiko Sasaki, an office clerk, is leaning over to speak to a fellow worker when she is
blasted out of her desk and trapped under heavy bookcases. She sustains a severely broken leg.
A medical doctor, Masakazu Fujii, is reading on his porch when he is catapulted into a river and
squeezed between two large timbers. Still another doctor, Terufumi Sasaki, falls to the floor in the
corridor of the Red Cross Hospital and gazes in wonder at the scene outside the window. Father
Wilhelm Kleinsorge awakens in the vegetable garden of the Catholic mission house, injured and
dazed. The Reverend Kiyoshi Tanimoto throws himself between two large rocks and is hit with
debris from a nearby house. Most of the six survivors are hurt, but they are all alive.
In the hours following the bombing, each survivor attempts to free himself or herself, find loved
ones, and help others if possible. Dr. Sasaki grabs bandages and works 19 hours at a time, trying
to bandage the 10,000 injured people making their way to his hospital. In the hours and days after
the bombing, he becomes an automaton, going from one patient to another. Dr. Fujii, injured
badly himself, attempts to help his nurses and find his way to his family’s home where he can get
first aid supplies. Mrs. Nakamura works relentlessly to uncover her three children in the debris;
they appear unhurt but dazed and shaken. She takes them to Asano Park where they can find
some shelter under trees. Miss Sasaki spends days and hours in the debris, but she is finally
rescued although semi-conscious and in pain and left in a lean-to. Father Kleinsorge helps those
trapped under houses and makes his way to Asano Park along with Mr. Tanimoto. Both ministers
help people in the park put out fires and get medical help.
During the evening of August 6, the survivors struggle to endure and help each other. The city is
a ball of flame, and the park is filled with radiation rain and whirlwinds. The suffering of thousands
of people and their wounds and burns are described repeatedly. Mr. Tanimoto must remind
himself that these creatures are human beings. Relentlessly, he ferries boatloads of people
upstream to get to higher ground. Several injured priests and the Nakamura family are evacuated
to the Novitiate in the hills. The injured and dying are so numerous that the doctors no longer help
the badly injured because they are not going to survive. Miss Sasaki is finally evacuated and
begins many days and weeks of being moved from one hospital or aid station to another.
As time goes by, order is slowly restored, but the overwhelming scene of misery and human
suffering is a sharp counterpoint to the official news released from various governments. On
August 9, a second bomb is dropped, this time on the Japanese city of Nagasaki. On August 15,
the Emperor of Japan gives a radio address telling his people that Japan has surrendered.
Next, the horrible revelations of radiation illness commence. Dr. Kleinsorge must go to a hospital
in Tokyo. He will never again regain his energy or health. Miss Sasaki, also in a hospital, is so
depressed over being crippled for the rest of her life that her doctor asks Father Kleinsorge to visit
her. Dr. Sasaki spends months and years analyzing the effects of the radiation and how best to
treat it; he marries and begins a medical practice. Dr. Fujii also opens a medical practice and
begins socializing with the occupation officers. Mrs. Nakamura and her children lose their hair
and suffer from various illnesses, but because they are so poor, they cannot afford to see a
doctor. Mr. Tanimoto attempts to operate his church out of his badly destroyed home. The
survivors struggle on with the effects of the radiation, and attempt to find ways to manage despite
their injuries.
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A fifth chapter, “The Aftermath,” was added later, detailing the lives of the survivors after the
bombing (up to 1985). Mrs. Nakamura is receiving medical help for her many radiation illnesses
and staying away from political rallies by the survivors, who are now called “hibakusha.” The
hibakusha have become the targets of politics and the peace movement. Mrs. Nakamura’s
children are grown, and she has retired from a job at a chemical company. Dr. Sasaki ran a
lucrative medical practice. He lost his wife to cancer, and he is still haunted by the souls of those
who died as a result of the bombing. Father Kleinsorge spent many years ill, both in and out of
the hospital. In 1976, he slipped and fell on ice, resulting in fractures that left him bedridden. The
following year he weakened, became comatose, and died. Miss Sasaki endured numerous
surgeries on her leg. She converted to Catholicism and became a nun, helping people die in
peace. Dr. Fujii died of cancer, but his life after the bombing was one of wealth and the pursuit of
pleasure. The Reverend Mr. Tanimoto, after traveling to America several times to raise money to
aid the hibakusha, has retired quietly, living out the rest of his life with vague memories that day
forty years ago
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Summary
of Chapter 1
It is early morning on August 6, 1945, in Hiroshima, Japan. At 7:00 a.m. a loud siren warns of an
impending American bombing raid. The “all-clear siren” sounds an hour later. At 8:15 a.m.
Japanese time, an atomic bomb is dropped from an American airplane on the 245,000 residents
of this city. The bomb kills 100,000 people, but others survive by chance, by fate, by decisions
made in a moment, and by being in fortuitous locations. Six of the survivors—separated by miles
and minutes—do not realize at the time that a massive bomb has destroyed much of the city and
has killed thousands in a split second.
Author John Hersey follows these six survivors and relates their experiences. They are Miss
Toshiko Sasaki, a clerk in the personnel department of the East Asia Tin Works; Dr. Masakazu
Fujii, a medical doctor who is reading on the porch of his residence; Mrs. Hatsuyo Nakamura, a
tailor’s widow, who is listening to the silence of her sleeping children and watching a neighbor’s
house; Father Wilhelm Kleinsorge, who is reading on the third floor of the mission house; Dr.
Terufumi Sasaki, a young surgeon at the Red Cross Hospital, who is walking through the
hospital’s corridor with a blood specimen in his hand; and the Reverend Mr. Kiyoshi Tanimoto, a
Methodist minister, who is unloading his daughter’s belongings at the home of a friend.
Each of the six survivors describes his or her experience. Each survivor is described by his or her
actions, location, and position after the bomb detonates. Early that morning, the Reverend
Tanimoto and a friend push a handcart through the city streets, moving some belongings of
Tanimoto’s daughter to an area called Koi. When the bomb detonates, the minister’s face is
turned away from the city. But he feels pressure, and then splinters, boards, and fragments of tile
from the nearby house landing on him.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Hatsuyo Nakamura is tired from the air-raid sirens that signaled false alarms
during the night. When the all-clear sounds around 8 a.m., she lets her three children sleep. The
bomb explodes, and Mrs. Nakamura sees a tremendous white flash and is hurled across the
room, along with parts of her house. She is stunned but is not deeply covered in debris. She can
hear one of her children crying and sees that another, her youngest daughter, is buried up to her
chest in debris and unable to move. From her other children, Mrs. Nakamura hears nothing.
The third survivor, Dr. Masakazu Fujii, a prosperous doctor, has arisen early to see a friend off on
a train. When the first siren sounds at 7 a.m., he is back home and undressed down to his
underwear, reading the paper on his porch. Suddenly, he sees a flash of brilliant yellow, and he is
hurled into the river, his house turned into debris. Everything happens so quickly. Dr. Fujii feels
the water and discovers that he is still alive, but he is squeezed between two timbers; the
physician’s head is above water, but his body is wedged tightly beneath it.
This same morning, Father Wilhelm Kleinsorge is resting on a cot on the third floor of the mission
house of the Society of Jesus. He sees a terrible flash, like a meteor colliding with the earth. For a
few moments, the priest remembers nothing. He then he awakens in the vegetable garden of the
mission, bleeding from small cuts on his left side and wearing nothing but his underwear.
Dr. Terufumi Sasaki, a young doctor at the Red Cross Hospital in Hiroshima, came into work this
morning from his mother’s home in the country. In the corridor of the hospital, the doctor sees the
flash through an open window and falls down. The blast rips through the hospital, breaking
Sasaki’s glasses and the bottle of blood he was holding, but he is survives and is untouched.
Automatically, he begins helping people.
In yet another part of town, Miss Toshiko Sasaki (not related to the doctor) is sitting down to her
clerk’s job at her desk in the East Asia Tin Works. She turns to chat for a moment with the girl
who works beside her, and as she turns her head from the window, the room is filled with a
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blinding flash. Paralyzed with fear, Toshiko Sasaki is trapped when the ceiling and people above
her fall into her work space. Bookcases fall forward on her, breaking her leg and crushing her
under piles of books.
In a brief moment, these six people, as well as others, survive while 100,000 die; the Atomic Age
has begun.
Commentary
Hersey begins his first chapter by introducing four elements that will provide the drama of his
story: the setting, the six survivors, irony, and suspense. Each of these elements will play a part
in the dramatic unfolding of survival under horrifying conditions.
The city, which is also part of the drama, comes alive in the first chapter. Hersey describes it as
fan-shaped. This traditional Asian image has a twofold purpose: It provides a symbol well known
to Hersey and to others familiar with Japanese culture, and it also reinforces the culture and
beauty that is about to be destroyed in an instant. Hiroshima lies on six islands formed by seven
estuarial rivers. It is a city of rivers, residences, factories, docks, airports, and inland seas. Its
commercial and residential area is in the city’s center and occupies 4 square miles. Most of the
city’s population lives in this area. The number of citizens was reduced from 380,000 to 245,000
after people left for safer places. Around the edges of the city are factories and other homes and
in the south are docks, an airport, and the Inland Sea. Surrounding the other three sides of this
delta is a rim of mountains. On this sleepy and warm morning in August, the air raid sirens
signaled during the night, but an all-clear blast sounds at 8 a.m. right before the bomb detonates.
Within the confines of this time and place, Hiroshima, Hersey inserts factual details of the six
survivors through each of their narratives. These accounts accomplish a second purpose: The
survivors will be witnesses to both similar and contrasting experiences that will help Hersey
interweave their stories and make them come alive to the readers. Furthermore, these are not six
statistics; they are human beings caught up in a huge and shocking event and their stories enable
readers to understand the human facet of this historical happening.
While their experiences will be influenced by their varied locations, each of the six survivors
explains his or her observation of the blinding light. Mr. Tanimoto sees a “tremendous flash of
light,” like a “sheet of sun.” Mrs. Nakamura sees everything flashing like a huge white light. Even
though he is facing away from the city, Dr. Fujii sees the flash as a brilliant yellow light, and
Father Kleinsorge sees a terrible flash like a meteor exploding. Dr. Sasaki observes a “gigantic
photographic flash,” and Miss Sasaki is “paralyzed by fear” from a “blinding light.” Each of these
initial reactions is described matter-of-factly, and each complements the others’ versions. This
light is the beginning of a long thread of events that will unify these six survivors. Although this is
a factual account that Hersey gives the reader, some readers may be struck by the fact that light,
which is usually associated with spiritual purity and goodness in traditional Western fiction, is now
a destroyer. Seeming to appear supernatural and god-like, it is overpowering, it destroys, and it
alters the environment.
Each survivor sees the huge flash differently but the significance of the life-changing event is not
yet apparent. From this point on, even though Hersey tells his story factually, the real drama is
actually only beginning as he follows the lives of these six people as they struggle to survive
against terrible odds.
On this particular morning, Hersey also meticulously describes the actions and everyday details
of the six survivors’ lives on the morning of the bombing. His account lends credence to the
feeling of being there with the inhabitants of Hiroshima. What time they get up, where they go,
their clothes, what they are doing, and occasionally details of their past histories indicate that this
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is a “normal” day like any other. Hersey gives the reader a slice of each survivor’s life and they
represent people from different social strata and varied backgrounds.
To these factual details Hersey adds more human elements, such as how each person is feeling
and what his or her human cares and concerns are on this particular day. Hersey wants readers
to see that this gigantic event happened to real human beings and that these individuals are
forever changed on this day. By stopping each story where he does in this first chapter, Hersey
adds to the suspense and desire to read on. For example, he tells of the tailor’s wife whose love
and concern for her children cause her to stay at home. Their sleep had already been interrupted
by a journey in the small hours past midnight. She is relieved this morning when the all-clear siren
is sounded, and she hopes they will sleep a little longer because they are tired from being
awakened earlier. She is moved to pity for her neighbor who must tear down his beautiful home,
board by board, to help the war effort. Readers are taken back in time to the death of her
husband and to her difficulties as a single mother. When she and her children are buried in debris
in their home, readers want to find out what happens to these people who have struggled to get
through life.
Dr. Fujii, the prosperous, pleasure-seeking physician, also has thoughts and concerns. In contrast
to Mrs. Nakamura, he lives well and has a beautiful vista from his home. Life is good. But concern
for evacuating his patients and workers makes him decide to cut back on his practice. Anxiety
about the safety of his wife and children causes him to be separated from them so they will be
safe. While he enjoys the good things in life, he also seems to be a careful man who has thought
about his future and has planned for it. He, too, is brutally hurled through the air by the bomb
blast. When he regains consciousness, he is being held aloft between the timbers of his house
like crossed chopsticks, another traditional Asian image that reminds readers of the culture and
Eastern civilization that is about to be destroyed. Although the account is factual, it is also ironic
that these timbers symbolize chopsticks, a tool for eating and thus nurturing.
Father Kleinsorge and Dr. Terufumi Sasaki, like the others, are described with human concerns
and weaknesses, and both are driven by duty. This similarity enables Hersey to go from one
narrative to the next. Kleinsorge is suffering from war rationing, and he is not well on the day of
the bombing. Yet despite this, he conducts a mass and reads the Prayers of Thanksgiving. When
the sirens go off, he dons his military uniform so that he can help people to safety. Kleinsorge
scans the skies, concerned about what part he will need to play. His counterpart, Dr. Sasaki, is
also driven by duty. Though he too is not feeling well because of nightmares, he makes his daily
journey to the city to work in the hospital on this day. The nightmares concern his past and a time
when he was driven by compassion to help people in his mother’s town even though he did not
yet have his medical license. On this particular morning, he alters his usual route to work;
because of that fortuitous decision, he misses the center of the bomb strike. He is doubly lucky
because his colleague in the third floor laboratory, which was to be his destination, is dead. After
the explosion, as soon as he realizes what has happened, he automatically gets bandages and
begins to help people who are maimed and bleeding.
Another survivor with a cultural concern for duty is the young clerk, Miss Toshiko Sasaki. She,
like other good daughters, is up early helping the family because her mother and brother are at a
pediatric hospital. At 3 a.m. she is making breakfast, packing lunches, and working hard to keep
the family going in her mother’s absence.
The Reverend Mr. Tanimoto is full of anxiety and worry about this day. He realizes that only two
important cities in Japan—Kyoto and Hiroshima—have not had major bombing raids, and he is
sure their “turn” will come. Described as a “cautious, thoughtful man,” he has sent his family to
the country because he fears for their safety. On this day he is tired because he moved a piano
yesterday. He has also had several sleepless nights, and combined with a poor diet, these
physical factors are adding up. The concerns of his parish are also weighing heavily on his mind.
All of these cares and vicissitudes of life make readers of all racial and socioeconomic
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backgrounds see these survivors as average, ordinary people caught up in an extraordinary
event.
Throughout the book irony is a common theme beginning with the “all-clear” siren fifteen minutes
before the bombing. Locations continue that sense of irony because everyone’s lives are filled
with unexpected outcomes.
Except for a snap decision, a sleepless night, or a friend staying over, each person might have
been directly in the path of the bomb. Others might have been farther away from the blast if they
had not made various decisions. The Reverend Tanimoto, torn between his duty as an air-raid
defense chairman and the concerns of his daughter, happens to go to Koi the morning of the raid.
This places him two miles from the center of the explosion. He throws himself between two large
rocks that shield him from the debris. Because of her decision to stay in her home, Mrs. Hatsuyo
Nakamura would have been at the East Parade Ground on the edge of the city with her children,
ages 10, 8, and 5. However, she and the children are so tired that she makes the decision to stay
in her house, only three-quarters of a mile from the center of the blast.
Locations play a major role in life or death. Fortunately, Dr. Fujii gets up early to see a friend off at
the train station; otherwise he would have been sleeping in his house when the bomb hit. His
home is totally destroyed, so his decision to go outside on the porch to read resulted in his flight
into the river rather than his death. Father Kleinsorge is in a building that was braced and
“double-braced” by an earlier priest who was afraid of earthquakes. He survives. Dr. Sasaki
actually considered not going into the city this day because he was too tired from his nightmares;
had he stayed thirty miles away at his mother’s home, he would not have found himself in the
middle of this nightmare. He later realizes that if he had taken his later, customary train, he would
have been right in the center of the explosion and would most certainly have died. And he is
doubly lucky because seconds before the bombing, he was heading for a laboratory in the
hospital that was demolished by the blast. Had he been a little faster, he would not have survived
the bombing.
Still another irony is that most mornings, the Hiroshima citizens are accustomed to an American
weather plane routinely flying over the city during most mornings. They reason that if the
Americans were to bomb the city, there would be quite a few B-29s, not a lowly single plane.
Obviously, this belief, along with the ironic “all-clear” signal, leads to still more deaths.
When Chapter One ends, each of the survivors has observed similar scenes when the bomb
explodes, but Hersey expresses their viewpoints about the bomb on their own personal levels.
Each survivor thinks that this has been a bombing raid like others. Not a single person has any
idea of how massive the casualties are and how different this raid is from any that came before it.
Dr. Fujii does not realize how badly he is hurt; Reverend Tanimoto believes a bomb has fallen on
the nearby house and he then notices the sky, which seems to be twilight even though it is early
morning. Dr. Sasaki thinks his hospital is the only one bombed. Hersey clearly delineates the
personal recollections of each survivor as he or she remembers his or her initial reaction. By
using these techniques, Hersey emphasizes what statistics can’t: that the extreme destruction
and conflagration is so unexpected and so shocking that these survivors remember clearly their
first reactions.
He ends the chapter on an ironic note by explaining that Miss Sasaki is being crushed by books,
vehicles of man’s humanity in “the first moment of the atomic age.” This last comment on the
young clerk’s fate is the only break in Hersey’s restrained pattern of understatement. Unlike
earlier Asian images, Hersey has used a universal symbol that all readers in all cultures can
understand: Mankind’s knowledge—symbolized by books—has becomes not a tool for improving
life but a weapon of destruction. This is what makes August 6, 1945, a watershed event: Man’s
capacity to use his creativity and intelligence to make the world a better place has instead been
used to produce technology that can destroy on an unprecedented level.
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Glossary
(Here and in the following chapters, difficult words and phrases, as well as allusions and historical
references, are explained.)
• Jesuit
a member of the Society of Jesus, a Roman Catholic religious order for men, founded by
Ignatius Loyola in 1534.
• Wassermann Test
a test to diagnose syphilis by determining the presence of syphilitic antibodies in the blood
serum; devised by August von Wasserman (1866-1925), German bacteriologist.
• parsonage
the dwelling provided by a church for its minister.
• rayon
any of various textile fibers synthetically produced and woven or knitted into fabrics.
• estuarial
of an estuary, an inlet or arm of the sea; especially the lower portion or wide mouth of a river,
where the salty tide meets the freshwater current.
• sampan
a small boat used in China and Japan usually propelled with a scull from the stern and often
having a sail and a small cabin formed of mats.
• prefectural government
rule by various administrative officials.
• incendiary
causing or designed to cause fires, as certain substances, bombs, and so on.
• piecework
work paid for at a fixed rate (piece rate) per piece of work done; in this case for sewing and
mending.
• hedonistic
having to do with pleasure.
• piling
a long, thick piece of wood, metal, or stone used in building; here the base of the house that
extends out over the river.
11
• Society of Jesus
See Jesuit.
• xenophobic
fear of strangers or foreigners.
• terminus
either end of a transportation line, or a station or town located there; terminal.
12
Summary
of Chapter 2
Right after the explosion, smoke is pushing up through the clouds of dust, and as the houses
burn, large water droplets fall. Although the bomb caused fires citywide, other fires break out from
inflammable wreckage that falls on peoples’ stoves as well as on live wires. A lot of random
destruction has occurred, and the survivors are having difficulty piecing together what has
happened.
Mr. Tanimoto, the minister, runs “wildly” away from the estate and performs various acts of
mercy. At first he thinks several bombs were dropped. He runs up a hillock on a private estate
where he can get a panoramic view. What greets Tanimoto’s eyes is unimaginable, and it causes
him to run toward the city, concerned for his wife, baby, home, church, and parishioners.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Nakamura struggles out of the debris of her house and attempts to rescue her
children. When she finds her children unhurt, she irrationally puts pants, blouses, shoes, helmets,
and overcoats on them. She illogically drops the “symbol of her livelihood,” her sewing machine,
in a cement tank filled with water in the front yard. Grabbing a rucksack of emergency items, Mrs.
Nakamura, her children, and a neighbor leave for Asano Park, an evacuation area on a rich
estate by the Kyo River. The only building she sees standing is the Jesuit mission house. Father
Kleinsorge, in his underwear, is leaving the mission house with a small suitcase.
Father Kleinsorge and the other priests of the mission are assessing the damage. One priest is
taken to a doctor. Meanwhile, Kleinsorge checks out his room in the mission and then begins
digging out people who are reported hurt and missing. Two of the priests take Father Schiffer,
who is bleeding profusely, to find a hospital. Soon the priests return. They cannot get to Dr. Fujii’s
hospital because it has been destroyed.
Farther down the street (in the river), Dr. Fujii observes what is happening and realizes that his
hospital is destroyed and that he has been dazed and disoriented for about twenty minutes. Then
he realizes that the tide will soon be coming in, and when it does his head will be under water.
Fear drives him to free himself and climb up the piling to the riverbank. After he is free, he feels
the heat of the fires and returns to the coolness of the water. Stolidly, he waits for the fires to die
down.
Dr. Sasaki grabs bandages from the storeroom of the Red Cross Hospital and helps people.
Starting with the closest patients, he eventually prioritizes those who are the worst. Literally
10,000 people are making their way to the hospital—many are horribly burned, maimed, vomiting,
and dying. He takes the worst wounds first, hoping to keep people from bleeding to death. After
only a few hours, he works mechanically, going relentlessly from one patient to the next.
The luxury of a hospital is not available to Miss Sasaki back in the debris of the Tin Works; she is
unconscious for three hours before she begins to hear people. Eventually, Miss Sasaki is
dragged out with a badly broken and cut leg. As the rain comes down, a man carries her to a
lean-to with two other horribly wounded people.
Like Mr. Tanimoto, Father Kleinsorge is trying to help victims. “Apathetic and dazed,” Kleinsorge
realizes that they must leave the area near the mission house because the fires are coming
closer. He attempts, but fails, to rescue his secretary at the diocese, Mr.Fukai.
Mr. Tanimoto is the only person going into the city. He meets hundreds of people with burned
eyebrows, hanging skin, shredded clothing, and burn patterns on their skin. Some people are
vomiting and some are supporting others; all have their heads bowed and are emotionless. The
compassionate Mr. Tanimoto is praying. He is ashamed of being so unhurt. Miraculously, he finds
his wife and baby; they are okay but strangely unemotional. Now she is going back to Ushida,
13
and she parts, bewilderedly, from her husband. Tanimoto goes to the East Parade Ground where
thousands of people are hurt; he grabs a basin from a house and carries river water to them.
Then he climbs into a boat and goes to Asano Park, where he meets Father Kleinsorge. Mr.
Tanimoto stops to help people from the neighborhood.
Down at the river, Dr. Fujii stays in the water and moves upstream with his two nurses. He is
ashamed of his appearance. In the afternoon, he sets off with the nurses for his parent’s home. In
Ushida, Fujii finds first aid articles at a relative’s house. He bandages the nurses and then they
bandage him.
At Asano Park, Mrs. Nakamura is sitting in the green, quiet place of refuge and watching
hundreds of people pour in. She and her children are thirsty, so they drink from the river. They
start vomiting. Silent and horrified by the ghastly wounds, Father Kleinsorge does what he can to
help. No one weeps, screams, complains, or talks. Meanwhile, Mr. Tanimoto finds a boat and
ferries ten or twelve people at a time throughout the afternoon because the fires are spreading
toward the park.
The two ministers get people together to put out fires with clothes, buckets, and basins. Although
it takes two hours, they succeed. The raindrops increase and a whirlwind tears through the park,
destroying trees in its path. After the storm, Mr. Tanimoto again ferries people, and Father
Kleinsorge makes arrangements to send a cart to pick up Mrs. Nakamura and her children the
next day so that they can join the priests in Nagatsuka.
Commentary
Hersey continues his objective, journalistic style in Chapter Two. Throughout this day, Hersey
shows the results of the atomic bomb on the people, living and dead, in the city of Hiroshima. The
devastation does not stop after the bomb explodes; it goes on relentlessly in the form of fires,
whirlwinds, and unnatural acts of nature. Surviving the initial bombing is not the end, but rather
the beginning of more horror. Hersey unflinchingly presents the pictures of destruction and death
and allows his six survivors to tell the story through their own eyes. The sweeping catastrophe of
the bombing is impossible for the mind to take in; on the other hand, the suffering of six
individuals in the wake of the devastation can be grasped somewhat. Their survival, along with
their desire to find safety and help others, seems to be a result of both fate and volition.
Hersey steps in intermittently during this chapter to add some factual explanations of what the
survivors cannot know. He uses the actual description of the bomb to show that it has completely
altered the atmospheric environment and nature itself, emphasizing the devastation that has
occurred. He also explains technical aspects of the bomb’s fallout and gives the reader a broader
picture of the lack of medical assistance in the city, which of course leads to more death. He
explains the fires, dust, smoke, houses burning, abnormal water droplets, and other phenomena
resulting from the bomb. The abnormal water droplets, for example, are actually condensed
moisture from the dust, heat, and fission fragments already in the upper atmosphere. These are
pieces of the puzzle that the survivors do not know.
Then Hersey turns his attention to deaths due to lack of medical assistance. Dr. Sasaki is only
one of six doctors (out of 30) at the Red Cross Hospital still able to function. There are only 10
nurses, out of a staff of over 200, able to work. What Dr. Sasaki cannot know is that 10,000
people are making their way to the hospital looking for help from him and the other five doctors;
perhaps it is a blessing that he does not know this crushing fact. Only Hersey can tell us these
statistics, because the six survivors are caught up in their individual struggles for existence and
are not privy to this broader perspective. Even if they knew these facts, they would be able to do
little about the hopelessness of their situation.
14
The author skillfully presents the individual narratives of the survivors, using only the events that
they would personally know. Their viewpoints, once again, underscore their lack of help and their
confusion. Hersey is able to show the confusion of each person who sees only one small piece of
the puzzle. Used to conventional bombing, they have no idea of the total destruction beyond their
limited viewpoint. Mr. Tanimoto, for instance, thinks at first that several bombs have fallen. He
sees the panorama of destruction from the hill, and it is so overwhelming that he cannot
comprehend what has happened. Later, his shocked description of people leaving the city while
he looks for his family is sobering. They are silent, heads bowed, without expression, and in
shock. Mrs. Nakamura sees not the vast panorama but a small part of the city. She notices what
the street is like: no buildings are standing except for the mission, and people are calling out for
help but she cannot help them. Father Kleinsorge is likewise confused by the vast destruction. He
is perplexed by the damage done to his room in the mission. So much random destruction and in
so little time! Miss Sasaki’s viewpoint is totally limited because she is alone and hurt. Each
character questions the irrational rationally: Both Dr. Fujii and Dr. Saski are overwhelmed by the
destruction and their inability to help huge numbers of the injured. Hersey presents the limited
viewpoints of each of the six survivors as they struggle to understand what is going on in their
small corner of the city.
Total confusion and disbelief reign in the city. Speculations and rumors continue as people
attempt to understand. When Mrs. Nakamura and her children get sick from drinking out of the
river, the survivors hear that the Americans dropped a gas that is making everyone sick. When
the abnormal drops of rain fall, the people believe that Americans are dropping gasoline on them
that they will set on fire. Hersey adds these details to show the fear and terror of the survivors
and their attempts to explain what they are seeing and feeling. It is mass chaos and total
disorganization.
Throughout the chapter, the specter of overwhelming death dominates, and many of the people
described cannot take in the vast human destruction. They are numbed by what they see;
emotions become cold and detached. Mr. Tanimoto risks his life to find his wife and baby, but
when he finds them he unemotionally says, “Oh, you are safe.” Then he goes about his business
of helping others, while his wife is left to struggle back to Ushida with their baby. The vast
destruction also affects Father Kleinsorge who is “apathetic and dazed.” When he reaches Asano
Park, what he sees sickens him. The gruesome wounds, especially the burn victims, are so
horrifying that at first he is afraid. Here Hersey seems to emphasize the grotesque nature of the
wounded and the horrified reactions of those such as Kleinsorge who are trying to help. Many of
the sights Kleinsorge describes are so far beyond reality that they seem like surrealistic
nightmares—eyes melted into faces, skin falling off in large pieces, and disfiguring burns. But the
German priest eventually does what he can to help; the victims are silent and no one weeps,
screams, complains, or talks. All the survivors are desensitized to what appears to be a scene
from hell.
Another common reaction amidst the confusion and helplessness is the attempt to help others.
Throughout all of this shock, trauma, and overwhelming death, people commit acts of mercy and
concern for those they love. All of the six survivors, except Miss Sasaki, who is alone, try to help
others.
Many of the accounts of merciful acts are attempts on Hersey’s part to show how individual survivors
reacted to the overwhelming needs of others. These accounts also illustrate the characters of the men he is
describing. Mr. Tanimoto and Father Kleinsorge are certainly heroes of the Asano Park refugees. Their lives
have been spent helping others and they do what seems to be natural to their sense of kindness. Each
helps as many survivors as he can, but the number of injured people is overwhelming.
Dr. Fujii, on his way to get first aid supplies, helps both of the nurses who work for him; he also helps
numerous others. Dr. Sasaki works relentlessly, 19 hours at a time. No effort is enough. It almost seems as
though Hersey focuses his lens on individual acts of mercy and then later broadens the focus to the city as a
whole.
15
Glossary
• solicitous
showing care, attention, or concern.
• panorama
a picture unrolled before the spectator in such a way as to give the impression of a continuous
view.
• fission fragments
fragments resulting from the splitting of an atom’s nucleus.
• papier-mache suitcase
a carrying case made of a hardened mixture of paper pulp, glue, and so on.
• breviary
a book containing the Psalms, readings, prayers, and so on of the Divine Office.
• Molotov flower basket (also bread basket)
Japanese name for a self-scattering cluster of bombs.
• extricated
set free; release or disentangle (from a net, difficulty, and so on).
• incapacitated
unable to engage in normal activity; disable.
• Mercurochrome
trademark for a red liquid solution used as a mild antiseptic and germicide.
• abrasions and lacerations
scrapes and jagged tears or wounds.
• porte-cochere
a kind of porch roof projecting over a driveway at an entrance, as of a house.
• Shinto shrine
a religious building of the principal religion of Japan, with emphasis upon the worship of nature,
ancestors, ancient heroes, and the divinity of the emperor. Prior to 1945, Shinto was the state
religion.
• brackish
having an unpleasant taste; nauseating.
• corrugated iron
16
iron sheet formed into a wavy pattern of parallel grooves and ridges.
• grotesque
characterized by distortions or striking incongruities in appearance, shape, or manner; fantastic,
bizarre.
• atavistic
displaying characteristics of remote ancestors.
• ionization
the process by which something becomes electrically charged, as a gas under the influence of
radiation or electric discharge; here, the smell from such a process.
• prostrate
lying flat, prone, or supine; in a state of physical exhaustion or weakness.
• Occidental
a person born in the West or a member of Western culture. Here, Father Kleinsorge is German
rather than Japanese.
• Grummans
military aircrafts made by the American firm Grumman Aircraft Corporation.
• vortex
a whirling mass of water forming a vacuum at its center into which anything caught in the
motion is drawn; whirlpool.
• razed
to tear down completely; level to the ground, demolish.
17
Summaries and Commentaries - Chapter Three - “Details Are Being Investigated”
Summary
It is the evening of August 6. After 12 hours of post-bomb suffering, a Japanese naval launch
moves slowly down the seven rivers of Hiroshima, stopping at strategic spots. A young naval
officer in a neat uniform announces that there is hope and that the people should be patient
because help—a naval hospital ship—is coming. The survivors breathe easier knowing help is on
the way.
Father Kleinsorge and Mr. Tanimoto join forces to evacuate the priests from Asano Park to the
Novitiate in the hills. Responding to Kleinsorge’s call for help, six priests return carrying litters for
the two injured priests to the Novitiate. The priests enlist Mr. Tanimoto to take them by boat
upstream to a clear road. Father Kleinsorge also requests that the priests send back a handcart
for Mrs. Nakamura and her children.
Meanwhile, Mr. Tanimoto rescues two groups of people. Their wounds are ghastly and
“suppurated and smelly.” The minister must remind himself “these are human beings.” Horrified,
he must sit down to get his bearings. He makes three trips upstream in his boat with weakened
survivors and he also rescues two young girls who have horrible, raw burns. They have been up
to their necks in salt water, so the pain must be excruciating; the younger girl, who is in shock,
dies.
The suffering continues. Dr. Fujii and Miss Sasaki are each alone and in great pain. In the Red
Cross Hospital, a worn-out Dr. Sasaki “moves aimlessly.” Blood, vomit, dust, and plaster are
everywhere, and there is no one to carry out the dead. At 3 p.m., he has worked 19 hours straight
and cannot dress another wound.
In sharp contrast to the people’s suffering and understanding of what has happened comes a
message over Japanese radio stating that Hiroshima has been attacked by B-29s. A new kind of
bomb is believed to have been used and the “details are being investigated.” No one in Hiroshima
hears the broadcast by the American president saying that it was an atomic bomb that hit
Hiroshima, more powerful than 20,000 tons of TNT.
Suffering and lack of help are the basic themes of this chapter. Mr. Tanimoto finds a doctor who
explains that the badly wounded will die. As the doctor puts it, “We can’t bother with them.” At
about the same time, looking for fresh water, Father Kleinsorge finds along the way twenty men
with completely burned faces, hollow eye sockets, and cheeks streaked with fluid from their
melted eyes. Their injuries indicate they were facing upward at the time of the bombing. Their
mouths are mere wounds, swollen and covered with pus. Father Kleinsorge forms a straw from a
grass blade to give them water.
Despite his numbness from the sight of such pain and suffering, Father Kleinsorge demonstrates
acts of kindness and almost cries when such actions are proffered to him. Father Kleinsorge
meets two children who are separated from their mother and questions them. Their family name
is Kataoka. He asks the Novitiate to send a cart for the children. Feeling weak, he talks with a
woman who hands him a tealeaf to chew so that he will not feel so thirsty. Her gentleness makes
him want to cry. Earlier Father Kleinsorge arranged for a handcart to take Mrs. Nakamura and her
children to the Novitiate. The cart arrives and the Nakamuras leave for safety. Later Mrs.
Nakamura finds out that her entire family has been killed. As he leaves for the Novitiate on foot,
Father Kleinsorge sees the massive destruction all around the city. He reaches the Novitiate. Sick
and exhausted, he goes to bed.
Miss Sasaki watches men haul corpses out of the factory and waits for help. Her leg is swollen,
putrid, and discolored, and she has had no food or water for two days and nights. On the third
18
day, friends come looking for her body and find her alive. Later, men put her in a truck and take
her to a relief station where there are army doctors. After discussing amputation, the doctors
decide against it. Miss Sasaki is sent to a military hospital where they keep her because she
develops a high temperature.
People are both entering and leaving the city. Father Cieslik goes to the city looking for Mr. Fukai,
the secretary of the diocese, but he cannot find him. That evening, the theological student who
was Fukai’s roommate says that Mr. Fukai had told him a short time before the bombing that
Japan was dying and that he wanted to die with her. Evidently he has received his wish. Dr.
Sasaki works three straight days with only one hour’s sleep. He worries again that his mother will
think him dead. He gets leave to go to her home where he ends up sleeping for 17 hours.
Official news finally breaks, but the survivors are too busy to listen. It is now August 9, and at
11:02 a.m. an atomic bomb is dropped on Nagasaki. As this news breaks, Mr. Tanimoto is in the
park helping victims. He takes a tent from his home to help shield survivors. His former neighbor,
Mrs. Kamai, still holds her dead baby and seems to be watching Mr. Tanimoto. He suggests that
she cremate the baby, but she simply holds on tighter and continues to watch him.
Order is slowly being restored, and the situation of each survivor is revisited. The Novitiate is
doing its part by taking in fifty refugees, including Mrs. Nakamura and her children, who are still
vomiting every time they eat. At the Red Cross Hospital, Dr. Sasaki is discovering that things are
finally becoming routine. Corpses are identified and burned on pyres. The Japanese feel that they
have a moral responsibility to cremate and enshrine the dead; in this situation, even their grave
obligation to the dead is in jeopardy. The Kataoka children, whom Father Kleinsorge befriended in
the park, are reunited with their mother on Goto Island, off Nagasaki. The compassion and
forgiveness of the Reverend Tanimoto is particularly evident when he goes to the bedside of a
man who had wronged him. The military hospital is getting a large number of soldiers, so they
evacuate civilians, including Miss Sasaki. She is placed on a ship and lies in the sun all day
despite her fever. Eventually, she goes to see a fracture specialist from Kobe.
On August 15, Emperor Tenno gives a radio address, telling his people the war is over.
Commentary
Chapter Three begins in late afternoon on August 6 and ends on August 15, officially known as VJ Day or “Victory over Japan Day.” There is irony in the title of the chapter, “Details Are Being
Investigated.” The grim fact is that the helpless survivors have no access to nor do they have time
to think about official information, and their lives are a living hell of pain and suffering. The irony
continues when we realize that “the details being investigated” have nothing to do with the
survivors. No government is making any effort to help the survivors or understand what they have
been through. It is the devastation and not the victims that are being investigated. The Japanese
government is checking out the amount of damage and the scientific community is considering
what kind of bomb this could have been. The government releases carefully censored news, but
the ordinary citizen has no use for it. Throughout the chapter, there are official announcements by
both the Japanese and American governments. And while those words go out over the airwaves,
only hopelessness and catastrophic suffering dominate in Hiroshima. It is an uphill battle for those
who are dying, those who are helping the wounded, and those who are alone. People are
discovering that their family members are dead or they are being reunited with family members
thought to be missing. And, over all these days, the few people who have a moment to think are
trying to make sense out of death on such a vast scale.
Like omniscient stage managers dispensing factual tidbits, the Japanese and American
governments come into this chapter in selected spots. The Japanese naval ship that promises
hope never delivers. The reader senses that there will be no help. While the Japanese people
19
look toward their government for relief—medical supplies, doctors, nurses, food, water—the
reader realizes that the naval boat, though promising help, is simply assessing the overwhelming
needs. Again, Hersey seems to be pushing the investigation of the damage to the forefront. The
naval ship is checking on the extent of the bombing and forming theories about the cause.
Rumors and theories abound concerning this strange bombing. The nature of the bombing raid is
speculated upon by Japanese radio and finally announced by American shortwave broadcast.
The “atomic” bomb’s vastness cannot even be understood by the human mind, but its results are
being felt throughout this city. Hersey uses these faceless announcements to emphasize the
impersonal, scientific, and political nature of the bomb, juxtaposed against the total confusion and
lack of organized help for the people’s suffering.
The “helpers” are but a drop in a huge river. Even though Mr. Tanimoto evacuates a number of
people who are horribly burned and dying, he cannot stay and help all of them. As he transfers
the priests upstream, many people call out to him. He comes back to help the dying because they
are too weak to move away from the edge of the river and they will drown with the incoming tide if
they are not moved. Eventually, Tanimoto must carry each one to the boat, take them up river,
and deposit them on higher ground. Ironically, many are ferried to their deaths on the sandpit
anyway.
Western readers may be reminded here of the ferryman carrying souls across the River Styx. The
images of death and the multitudes of people dying with their arms reaching out for Tanimoto and
the bodies all intertwined may also evoke in the Western reader the images in hell of Dante’s
Inferno, as the dead and the dying are so numerous that Tanimoto’s job is impossible. Tanimoto
is sickened as he takes one woman’s hand and her skin slips off in “huge, glove-like pieces.” The
picture is so grotesque that he questions his sanity. He must sit down to get his bearings. When
he rescues the two young girls who have been up to their neck in salt water, he leaves them with
Father Kleinsorge, where the younger one dies of shock. For every individual who is saved
another 10, 50, 100, or 1,000 die. Father Kleinsorge also finds himself fighting against great odds.
He goes for fresh water outside the entrance of the park. The army doctor he sees has only
iodine with which to help people.
This helplessness is further illustrated by Dr. Sasaki’s battle at the Red Cross Hospital. Eventually
more help arrives, but again it is just a minor melody in a symphony of pain and suffering. The
frustration of these three is vented in Mr. Tanimoto’s realization of his “blind, murderous rage.”
How can the government let such a thing happen? Where is the help?
As order begins to be restored, reuniting families and making sense out of what has happened
are the new tasks. Fathers Schiffer, LaSalle, and Kleinsorge are at the Novitiate and have had
their wounds dressed. They are getting some rest. At the park, Father Kleinsorge befriended the
Kataoka children (ages 13 and 5). Now they are reunited with their parents. But far more often the
survivors find out that they are alone.
Mrs. Nakamura’s whole family is gone except for her children. A relative, Mrs. Osaki, comes to
see Mrs. Nakamura on August 10 and explains that her son died when the factory he worked in
burned. Toshio Nakamura has nightmares about the fire because Mrs. Osaki’s son was his friend.
Some are left alone in silence, and others search for answers. It appears that Mrs. Sasaki has no
one left. Dr. Fujii’s niece and Mr. Fukai, who wanted to die with Japan, will never be seen again.
Mr. Tanimoto tries to make sense of his blind rage that came from so much death and
destruction. He returns to his parsonage and digs through the rubbish looking for his old life. Mr.
Tanaka, a man who had spread rumors of Mr. Tanimoto being a spy for the Americans, is dying.
He sends for the minister. Even though Mr. Tanimoto hates him and thinks he is selfish and cruel,
he goes to the bedside of Mr. Tanaka and reads a Psalm over him as he dies. His words of
Scripture over Mr. Tanaka afford the minister a bit of grace, but still there are no answers.
20
Hersey begins a pattern concerning Mr. Tanimoto in this chapter that seems to continue
throughout the book. In Asano Park he is a ferryman between life and death, who tries to save as
many as he can. Here, in reading the Scripture over Mr. Tanaka, he seems to be a bridge
between the dying man and God. This image of Tanimoto standing in between two opposites will
be repeated again later when he attempts to be a liaison between the survivors and the
government agencies that can help them. And finally, he is certainly the interpreter of the
message from the Emperor over the radio and the reaction of the people. Mr. Tanimoto always
seems to be a go-between of sorts between each group.
Father Kleinsorge, too, walks through the city and looks through the debris of the mission house
amazed at the destruction.
Hersey uses several of the survivors to explain the continuous search for answers. In the
basement vault where the hospital keeps its X-rays, someone discovers that the X-rays have all
been exposed, leading to more speculation and questions about the strange bomb. Dr. Fujii
listens to rumors of magnesium dust and speculates on what has happened. Just as the
government provided no help, it also provides no answers. Each survivor struggles on his or her
own to figure out what has happened, and Hersey seems to emphasize their perplexity. So far,
for the survivors in Hiroshima, there are no answers. No answers are available and the
government is silent. No answers, no help.
Throughout this chapter, Hersey contrasts the government’s broad pronouncements and the
survivors’ total lack of understanding. Around August 12, there is a rumor, vague at first, that the
bomb that destroyed the city was made by the energy produced when atoms split. The Japanese
call it an “original child bomb,” and the newspapers make cautious statements about it. Although
the average man on the street has trouble understanding this, the Japanese physicists who come
into the city to measure various aspects of the destruction understand it well.
Readers see that the “atomic age” has spawned a whole new power that can be tripped by a
switch in a moment. If Hersey had not included these details, the political and scientific nature of
the entire event would have been ignored. The survivors, in contrast, bear the suffering caused
by this new scientific knowledge but are removed from it and are ignorant of its power. Their
government, whose policies and refusal to surrender have resulted in this event, cannot protect
its people or provide services to help their suffering. This government’s silence to its people in
this catastrophe reveals its own inability to respond amidst confusion and chaos.
Yet another government symbol is brought in at the end of the chapter—the Emperor Hirohito.
Hersey effectively uses Mr. Tanimoto as an interpreter between the government and the suffering
people. Emperor Tenno (Hirohito) addresses his people for the first time on the radio on August
15. Hersey uses Tanimoto’s later account to describe how the people are awed by the voice of
their emperor speaking to them, the common people. But the people Tanimoto describes are
bound in bandages, helped to stand and walk, and leaning on sticks to support their injured limbs.
Perhaps Mr. Tanimoto sees yet another irony—the honor and emotional pride of a people when
they consider their ruler and government contrasted with their physical and emotional suffering at
the hands of that same government that has refused to surrender despite the cost to its people.
21
Glossary
• succor
to give assistance to in time of need or distress; help, aid, relief.
• staves
plural of staff; sticks, rods, or poles; here, used as a support in walking.
• clavicle
the bone that connects the scapula with the sternum; collarbone.
• contusions
bruises; injuries in which the skin is not broken.
• charnel-house
a building or place where corpses or bones are deposited.
• diversion
anything that diverts or distracts the attention; specifically, a pastime or amusement.
• gas gangrene
a gangrene caused by a microorganism that produces gas within the tissue of wounds, causing
severe pain and swelling.
• credence
belief, especially in the reports or testimony of another.
• Lauritsen electroscope
an instrument for detecting very small charges of electricity, electric fields, or radiation.
• Neher electrometer
a device for detecting or measuring differences of electrical potential.
• moribund
dying.
22
Summaries and Commentaries - Chapter Four - “Panic Grass and Feverfew”
Summary
Chapter Four begins on August 18 and relates events up to a year after the bombing. Once
physicists determine that the radiation level is safe for people to return to Hiroshima, the six
survivors come back but each is suffering from radiation sickness. Father Kleinsorge connects
with two of the other survivors as a result of the effects of the bombing. He suffers from feeling
faint and tired and his wounds won’t heal. He is sent to the Catholic International Hospital in
Tokyo where he becomes somewhat of a celebrity. Leaving the hospital on December 19 for
Hiroshima, Father Kleinsorge meets Dr. Fujii on the train. When Father Kleinsorge explains that
he must rest each day, Dr. Fujii predicts that rest will be difficult with so much rebuilding going on.
Kleinsorge visits Miss Sasaki in the hospital at the request of her doctor; she is depressed over
her crippled leg and she is not getting better. His faith and religious discussions slowly result in
her eventual healing and converting to Catholicism. A year after the bombing, Kleinsorge is ill
enough to be back in the hospital. Dr. Sasaki gets married in March, but he never again regains
the kind of energy he had before the bombing. He observes and theorizes about the radiation
sickness and works on ways to treat it. Along with fellow doctors, Dr. Sasaki analyzes the three
stages of radiation illness and how to treat each. Meanwhile, his fellow doctor, Dr. Fujii, is living in
a home that eventually washes into the sea after being hit by a typhoon. He buys a vacant clinic
in Kaitaichi, east of Hiroshima, where he practices medicine again and socializes with the
occupation officers. His thriving practice from the old days is gone.
Mr. Tanimoto suffers from a general malaise, a fever, and weakness. He can ill afford to rebuild
his church. Even if he had the financial resources, his health is too poor to do any physical work.
He continues to preach in his home. Mrs. Nakamura has regained the hair she lost, but she is
living desperately, trying to feed her family and keep a roof over their heads. She has no money
to pay a doctor to treat her own illness, let alone the illnesses of her children. Father Kleinsorge
advises her to find work as a seamstress or domestic; she settles on the former.
Father Kleinsorge and a fellow priest obtain living quarters first in a shack and then in a barracks
sold to them by the city. They hire a contractor to build a new mission house. Against his doctor’s
orders, Father Kleinsorge does not rest but instead visits possible new church members. A year
after the bombing he goes back to the hospital in Tokyo for a rest.
The new municipal government, under the direction of the Allied Military Government, plans
projects to rebuild the city, including the restoration of electricity and water as well as the
construction of small housing units. Meanwhile, the statisticians begin to calculate the damage to
lives and buildings, and the scientists converge on Hiroshima to measure the force and heat of
the bomb in various locations.
The chapter ends with a summary of each character’s current conditions. Speculation about the
bomb’s aftermath in theoretical and philosophical terms is joined by opinions from the medical
and religious professions regarding the ethical justifications for the bombing. However, the people
of Hiroshima (those that Hersey writes about) do not think about the ethical implications at all but
rather about resignation—what is done is done.
The children of Hiroshima still see the day of the bombing as a great adventure. Months later their
descriptions are factual details of the destruction and the dead.
Commentary
Hersey names the fourth chapter “Panic Grass and Feverfew” after the names of weeds growing
in Hiroshima. Feverfew literally means, “to drive away the fever.” Because this chapter describes
the radiation sickness and the result of the bomb’s intense heat damage, perhaps Hersey chose
23
this title to show the desire of the city’s survivors to drive away the intense heat and the fever
associated with their radiation sickness.
The city of Hiroshima is described in bits and pieces: first by the personal thoughts of the
survivors and then by the more objective statisticians. Father Kleinsorge is becoming accustomed
to the four square miles of “reddish brown scar” that is Hiroshima. Hersey provides imagery here
that evokes from the reader an understanding of the swiftness of death. He describes signs with
inquiries from family members about surviving relatives that have been crudely erected on ash
piles. The macabre succession of stationary cars and bicycles on the street is a vivid image
reminding the reader that in the midst of life, people simply vanished. Miss Sasaki, being
transferred from one place to another, is “horrified and amazed” by the city she knew so well. The
government must deal on a practical level with the lack of electricity and clean water and begin
making decisions about how to house and feed the survivors. A Planning Conference is called to
figure out what to do with the debris that was Hiroshima and decisions must be made about what
to place over this burnt piece of earth. All life as the people of Hiroshima have known it has
changed forever.
Because Hersey uses his factual, journalistic style, the reader is simply shown the effects of the
bombing on the six survivors. Hersey produces a profound reaction in the reader because he
does not sensationalize or dramatize.
The largest portion of the chapter gives an account of the horrifying effects of radiation sickness.
Father Kleinsorge and Miss Sasaki have wounds that won’t heal; Mrs. Nakamura and her children
have lost their hair and suffer from diarrhea; Reverend Tanimoto, Father Kleinsorge, and Dr.
Sasaki suffer from weakness and a loss of energy. Miss Sasaki has a deep depression that is
keeping her from healing. The lack of medical supplies, doctors, and nurses, and the medical
inexperience with radiation sickness also contribute to the problem. But the survivors struggle on.
They try to rebuild homes and churches, try to feed and clothe children, and attempt to come to
some sort of closure with what has happened.
Hersey continues to depersonalize the aftermath of the bombing and radiation sickness. Nowhere
is there an image or literary phrase that can be correlated to the six human stories. Dr. Sasaki
and his fellow physicians theorize that radiation survivors have three stages to their illness. The
doctors quantify in percentages how many bodies—in what location after so many days—died,
suffered immediate symptoms, or had lasting radiation effects. Meanwhile, Father Kleinsorge is
pale, shaky, seriously anemic, and has abdominal pains and a temperature of 104 degrees. If the
reader listens to the experts, Kleinsorge appears to be simply a minor number in a medical
project providing opportunities around which the medical profession can theorize.
Hersey seems to be layering page after page of quantitative terms and numerical equivalents to
explain how the governmental institutions of the time treated the survivors and the city as a huge
experiment in new technology. He describes the assault of the medical establishment and
statisticians upon the city. Evidently, history must know what percentage of people were injured,
survived, had after-effects, died, and so on within what radius. How many buildings were
destroyed or useable? Even the force and heat of the bomb’s detonation is checked to determine
accurate and measurable statistics for the future. In opposition to the facts and figures,
percentages and graphs, six survivors’ lives symbolize the individual suffering caused but rarely
really measured by the bombing.
Hersey allows the reader, near the end of Chapter 4, to speculate about the ethical question of
whether the bomb should have been dropped. He presents three viewpoints, leaving the reader
once again to draw his or her conclusions. Several spokespeople present the position that a
community spirit and traditional attitude of dying with honor for the Emperor are positive results of
the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. In contrast, many of Hiroshima’s citizens hate Americans and
feel they should be tried as war criminals and hanged. Hersey’s third viewpoint is that of the
24
Jesuit priests who are not Japanese. They seem to justify the bomb as a death weapon—like
poison gas—and explain that the Japanese government was warned and so their people suffer.
Hersey leaves little doubt in the reader’s mind that this entire chapter has consistently woven a
theme of how impersonally war stamps its mark on the lives of those who survive as well as on
the unnamed statistics of those who die. Against all of these ethical arguments, he presents what
went on in the minds of the children of Hiroshima. They will forever be left with a traumatized
reaction to this pivotal event in their lives. In the same breath as a mundane description of their
day, they mention two mothers, one wounded and one dead, as well as familiar neighbors who
are walking around covered with blood. Life goes on.
As always, throughout this chapter, Hersey leaves the reader with the question of whether war is
ever justifiable, even in a so-called “just” cause. Ask the six survivors: Miss Sasaki, suffering deep
depression and now crippled for life; Mrs. Nakamura, who is left extremely poor and must
somehow nurture her children; Father Kleinsorge, who is hospitalized again a year after the
bombing; Dr. Sasaki, who can no longer find the energy he once had to care for his patients; Dr.
Fujii, who has no prospects for rebuilding his thriving practice; and the Reverend Tanimoto, who
no longer has a church and is suffering from malaise.
John Hersey writes that these are “the lucky ones.”
Glossary
• talismanic
thought of as having magical power.
• yen
the basic monetary unit of Japan.
• capricious
changing abruptly and without apparent reason; erratic, flighty.
• radiation sickness
nausea, diarrhea, bleeding, loss of hair, and so on caused by overexposure to radiation.
• Maupassant (Henri René Albert) Guy de
1850-93; French writer of novels and short stories.
• bluets
a small plant of the madder family, having small, pale-blue, four-lobed flowers.
• Spanish bayonets
yuccas having stiff, sword-shaped leaves.
• goosefoot
a weedy plant with small green flowers and fleshy foliage.
• purslane
25
a weed with pink, fleshy stems and small, yellow, short-lived flowers.
• panic grass
any of several grasses of the genus Panicum, such as millet, used as fodder.
• feverfew
a bush with finely divided foliage and flowers with white florets around a yellow disk.
• sickle senna
any of the caesalpinia family of plants, with finely divided leaves and yellow flowers.
• regeneration
Biol. the renewal or replacement of any hurt or lost part.
• emanations
heavy, gaseous isotopes that result from the decay of a radioactive element.
• cyclotron
a device for accelerating charged nuclear particles through a magnetic field in a widening spiral
path; particle accelerator.
• triangulating
a method of determining the distance between two points on the earth's surface by plotting on a
chart a series of connected triangles, measuring a base line between two points, and locating a
third point by computing both the size of the angles made by lines from this point to the ends of
the base line and the lengths of these lines.
• white count
the number of white blood cells, which are important in the body's defenses against infection.
• moxibustion
the burning of moxa (a soft, downy material) on the skin as a cauterizing agent or
counterirritant, especially in traditional Chinese and Japanese medicine.
• unprecedented
having no precedent or parallel; unheard-of; novel.
• succumbed
died.
• crux
the essential or deciding point.
26
Summaries and Commentaries - Chapter Five - “The Aftermath”
Summary
In the years from 1946 to 1985, the six survivors’ lives went in several directions. After 1945, the
Japanese began to use the word hibakusha, meaning “explosion affected persons” to describe
the bomb survivors. Mrs. Hatsuyo Nakamura, often sick from radiation illness, struggled to keep
her family alive, sheltered, and fed for many years before the government began to help. Through
a series of fortunate events, her life got better. She was able to rent a house for $1 per month and
was eventually hired at a chemical company by a compassionate owner who did not discriminate
against hibakusha. After working at the chemical company for 13 years, Mrs. Nakamura was able
to retire, to see her son become employed, and to see her daughters marry and move away.
Forty years after the bombing, she still suffered from the effects of radiation, but she had also
learned to take care of herself. She avoided any political displays that were related to the
bombing.
Dr. Terufumi Sasaki was haunted for the rest of his life by memories of August 6, 1945. He
finished his doctoral degree and married well and because his family was wealthy he could afford
to start a medical practice where, for five years, he mainly removed keloid scars from hibakusha.
Being ambitious, he eventually left the hospital and opened a private clinic in Makaihara, putting
Hiroshima behind him. But a series of tragedies marked the rest of his life. Diagnosed with lung
cancer, he underwent surgery to remove his left lung. Then, in 1972, his wife died of breast
cancer and he threw himself into his work and built a larger geriatric clinic. He had now distanced
himself from Hiroshima. But occasionally he would treat a hibakusha and then be reminded of the
“nameless souls” that went to mass graves outside the Red Cross Hospital in 1945.
Father Kleinsorge’s whole life, from 1946 until his death, was filled with sacrifice and good works.
He loved all things Japanese. He often wore Japanese clothes. He became a naturalized citizen
whose new name was Father Makoto Takakura. Eventually he retired to a tiny church in
Mukaihara, and the last ten years of his life were filled with illness. In l976, he slipped and fell,
fracturing his back and becoming bedridden. On November 19, 1977, he died and was buried in a
pine grove on a hill above the Novitiate.
After she was released from the hospital, Toshiko Sasaki lived with her younger siblings, Yasuo
and Yaeko—who turned out to be alive—in a suburb in Koi. With no fiancé, she found comfort in
Father Kleinsorge’s words, and she was baptized a Catholic. Needing to support her brother and
sister, she got a job working in an orphanage where she enrolled her siblings.
After the bombing, Miss Sasaki had a series of operations. She struggled to keep her family
going. When she was able to consider her own needs, she studied to become a nun. Despite the
difficulty of her studies, she realized that the tenacity and fortitude she showed after the bombing
held her in good stead. She took her vows in 1957 and became Sister Dominique Sasaki.
During all this time, she had grave illnesses from the radiation poisoning. She also discovered
that her greatest gift was to help people die peacefully. In 1980, she was honored for her years in
the church, and she made a speech in which she stated that after the bombing, she realized that
her life had been spared, but she desired to move forward rather than dwell on the past.
Dr. Masakazu Fujii enjoyed the good life more than the other survivors. He suffered few ill effects
from the radiation. Fujii built a clinic in Hiroshima in 1948—a modest structure in comparison with
his earlier hospital—and he raised a family of five children. His life was filled with pleasure. He
loved the gaudy entertainment district of Hiroshima, and he was getting a reputation as a playboy.
27
His remaining life had tremendous highs and lows. When money was raised for plastic surgery for
a group of Hiroshima girls who were scarred extensively from the bombing, he went along on
their trip to New York as an interpreter, a chaperone, and a social director. He spent time in New
York City and enjoyed the company of the doctors of Mount Sinai Hospital. It was a wonderful life.
However, 1963 found him back in Japan, where he was melancholy and depressed, and
estranged from his wife. He built a new American-style home that was ostentatious and
glamorous. But on New Year’s Eve, he was found unconscious from a gas heater in his house. It
was unclear whether it was the result of an accident or attempted suicide. For 11 years, he was
hardly conscious. When he died, the autopsy revealed liver cancer.
The Reverend Tanimoto’s life was connected throughout, in one way or another, with politics, the
peace movement, and fund-raisers for the hibakusha.
Tanimoto connected with several influential people in America, including author Pearl Buck and
the editor of The Saturday Review of Literature, Norman Cousins. With their help, he made three
U.S. tours to raise money for the hibakusha. However, Tanimoto was increasingly left out of the
Japanese peace movement; and like Mrs. Nakamura, he stayed away from political celebrations
of the bombing. In 1982, Mr. Tanimoto retired. It seemed that forty years after the bombing, his
memories of that day were not as clear as they had been earlier in his life. The world’s memory of
that day was fading as well.
Commentary
The usual and customary way for an author to end a book is to pull together the themes of his
story and explain their significance. Hersey never does that. As with his earlier chapters, Hersey
remains true to a strict accounting of the factual lives of the six survivors during the forty years
from 1945 to 1985. Because he does not interpret their lives for his own purposes, Hersey leaves
many thoughtful questions for his readers. It is interesting to note, however, that he spends more
time on the life of the Reverend Tanimoto and places his story last, intertwining it with landmarks
in the production and testing of nuclear weapons.
The lives of the six survivors all took varying directions, just as they had prior to the bombing.
Some struggled to keep their families together, some lost themselves in good works, and others
found respite from the memories of the bombing in the pursuit of pleasure and wealth. Most of the
survivors continued to have frustrating and debilitating illnesses due to the radiation poisoning or
the wounds they received the day of the bombing.
Hersey first considered the life of Mrs. Nakamura. Following 1945, all of her life was a struggle
filled with pain, uncertainty, and disability. However, her travail said a great deal about her
resilience and her quiet human dignity. She adopted the philosophy of shikatata ga-nai, which is a
fatalistic phrase meaning “it can’t be helped.” Instead of giving in to her disabilities and her pain,
she forged a new life depending on herself and providing for her children.
Hersey may have used her story to show how the hibakusha were discriminated against following
the bombing. Her life also illustrated the change in government policy to help the survivors long
after the bombing. Evidently, the politics of the situation lengthened the political debate. This
theme of the government’s callous disregard to the needs of its people was repeated over again
in Mr. Tanimoto’s story.
Mrs. Nakamura’s indifference to peace rallies may indicate her belief that the bombing was a
historical and not a personal event. Her single-minded determination to avoid political issues and
take care of her own life may symbolize the reactions of many of the non-political “little people”
affected by the bombing of Hiroshima. They, along with Mrs. Nakamura, did not have the luxury
of asking, “Why me?”
28
Miss Sasaki’s experience the day of the bombing changed her life forever. It led her to find a
vocation that gave her life great meaning. The reader might infer that the bombing, an event that
took such little heed of human life, left her wondering what she could do to affirm life. As a
Catholic nun and later a church administrator, she remembered the loneliness and listened to the
faith she heavily relied upon during the hours, days, and weeks of her pain following the bombing.
Perhaps her experience was the catalyst for this religious life-affirming choice. Only when one
has experienced great sorrow can one help others with deep human empathy.
Miss Sasaki was a living presence that helped the dying find peace She, like Mrs. Nakamura,
realized that one can only look forward, never back, after such devastation if one is going to have
a life worth living that honors so many who died.
In the years that followed the bombing, Dr. Sasaki was haunted by his memories of those he
couldn’t save and the deaths he couldn’t honor. He appeared to insulate his thoughts with
overworking and larger and larger amounts of cash. The evidence of his memories appears in his
eventual reluctance to attend both his old haunts in Hiroshima and his treatment of fewer and
fewer hibakusha. Also, he often pushed his family away by non-stop working hours.
Dr. Sasaki’s behavior in these years could reflect his attempts to outrun his own memories of
death. His brush with lung cancer caused a temporary change in his behavior: He seemed to
spend more time with his family. Later, the death of his wife was a devastating blow that caused
him once again to throw himself into long hours of work. But after each of these reminders of life’s
end, Dr. Sasaki once again worked, made money, built larger businesses, and acquired more
possessions. It was as though he might be able to deaden the pain of memory. Despite his vast
enterprises and material success, perhaps he still thought of the indelible images of that day so
long ago.
Dr. Fujii’s life ended with his estranged family bitterly divided over his property. Of the six
survivors, he was the least physically affected by the bombing and radiation sickness. He
purposely pursued a hedonistic life, filling his years with pleasure. Much of this pattern of
behavior was evident before the bombing when he had his own hospital and lucrative practice.
Surrounding himself with luxuries and pleasure was an innate part of his character. His time spent
in New York simply convinced him to indulge in acquiring still more expensive possessions. He
loved being the center of attention and enjoyed the publicity and interviews from his trips to New
York with the Hiroshima maidens.
But the end of his life revealed the fruitlessness of such occupations. His family was estranged,
his health was failing, and he had nothing to lean on. Perhaps his suicide attempt—if it was that—
was a way to end his pain and suffering. His depression and sense of loss revealed a lack of
spiritual strength when life became difficult. Previously, acquiring material objects occupied his
time and he didn’t have to think about death. But, alone and in failing health, he had no choice.
Father Kleinsorge pursued a life of self-sacrifice in the years following the bombing. He purposely
chose to deny his own medical difficulties so he could continue to help others. His stolid and
uncomplaining attitude revealed a character that saw problems and solved them. The bombing
brought out the best in his character but also left him with broken health that plagued his attempts
to help others.
He also had the ability to bring people together in common goals and he made dependable
judgments about their character. That was why he saw Miss Sasaki’s needs and encouraged her
to aspire to a religious life. The evidence of this trait in Father Kleinsorge was also revealed in the
many visitors who stopped and thanked him for his advice and his help.
29
Of the six hibakusha, Father Kleinsorge perhaps suffered the greatest medical problems in the
later years of his life. Maybe this was why he identified more with hibakusha than with the
Japanese. Perhaps this is also why he—like Miss Sasaki—rededicated his life to a spiritual path
in the years after the bombing.
The section that discusses Mr.Tanimoto is the longest section in the last chapter. It is played out
against the watershed events of the nuclear armaments race. In less than his usual understated
way, Hersey seems to be asking what the conscience of the world learned from the horrible pain
and deaths of the people who were the survivors of the first atomic bomb.
Despite the fact that Mr. Tanimoto fell out of the peace movement in Japan, he continued to live
his life to help those who were hurt in the bombing. One of those hurt was his daughter, Koko.
She was subjected to embarrassment when American and Japanese doctors measured her
growth in junior high. She was so traumatized by having to be naked in early adolescence under
the eyes of these physicians that she hid the memory from herself for many years. Sent to
America to go to college, her fiancé left her because his father thought she could not have normal
children. This prejudice—also found in the story of Mrs. Nakamura’s attempts to find work—
seemed to be part of the uphill battle affecting the lives of hibakusha.
Fund-raising for the hibakusha was the focus of Tanimoto’s life after the bombing and it revealed
his relentless endurance and stamina as well as his remarkable and inspiring character. Mr.
Tanimoto’s three trips through hundreds of American cities seemed similar to his constant motion
to help those hurt after the bombing. Just as he tirelessly helped those in Asano Park, he also
relentlessly crossed America looking for support to help those who had been disabled by the
event. His spiritual depth was revealed in two events in his quest for funds. On the television
show when he had to face the very man who dropped the bomb on his city, he reacted with great
dignity. His demeanor in the face of this event displayed his character in spite of amazing
insensitivity. His spiritual advancement and remarkable character is also revealed when he prays
for the U.S. Senate, a body that represented the very country that had bombed Tanimoto’s city.
Politics is also part of this last chapter. Hersey showed the speculation of various government
officials about Tanimoto’s motives. It is no wonder that various government agencies questioned
his sincerity and saw him as a publicity hound; they could not understand the non-political
reasons a person could have for helping others.
Tanimoto’s life is purposely presented last and is combined with dates of nuclear armament and
escalating atomic testing because it—like Mrs. Nakamura’s story—reflects the continued
indifference of governments to the needs of their peoples. Countries pursue their own agendas of
proliferating armament despite Hersey’s record of what nuclear bombs do to human lives. The
final and obvious conclusion one reaches is that the end of the game is total annihilation.
Always on the outskirts, Mr. Tanimoto lived to see the anti-nuclear movement in Japan split up in
the early 1960s. In 1982, Mr. Tanimoto retired. Hersey ends Mr. Tanimoto’s epilogue with the
idea that the minister’s memory of forty years before is getting as “spotty” as the memory of the
world when it comes to nuclear weapons. Presenting the benchmarks of the nuclear weapons
race, Hersey emphasizes that the world merely sees these dates as a news item and then forgets
them. The answers that are missing in this “aftermath” are whether the bomb will be used again
and whether the world learned a single thing from the people’s suffering in Hiroshima and
Nagasaki.
30
• debilitating
weakening or enfeebling.
• Diet
the parliament of Japan.
• attitudinizing
striking an attitude; posing.
• Meiji Restoration
revolution in Japanese life and government that occurred after the accession of Emperor
Mutsuhito (1867), characterized by the downfall of the shogun and feudalism and the creation
of the modern state.
• dendrology
the scientific study of trees and woody plants, especially their taxonomy.
• redolent
sweet-smelling; fragrant.
• lassitude
a state or feeling of being tired and listless; weariness; languor.
• analogous
similar or comparable in certain respects.
• efficacious
producing or capable of producing the desired effect; having the intended result, effective.
• latency
a state of being dormant or inactive.
• cataract
an eye disease in which the crystalline lens or its capsule becomes opaque, causing partial or
total blindness.
• ostensibly
apparently; seemingly.
• admonition
an admonishing or warning to correct some fault.
• self-abnegating
lacking consideration for oneself or one’s own interest.
31
• subjugation
to be in a useful, helpful, or serving capacity, especially in an inferior or subordinate capacity.
• anomaly
departure from the regular arrangement, general rule, or usual method; abnormality.
• neuralgia
severe pain along the course of a nerve or in its area of distribution.
• atrophy
a wasting away, especially of body tissue or organs.
• distilled spirits
strong alcoholic liquor produced by distillation.
• Esperanto
an invented language, devised (1887) by Polish physician L. L. Zamenhof (1859-1917) and
proposed for use as an international (chiefly European) auxiliary language.
• Comintern
the international organization (Third International) of Communist parties (1919-43) formed by
Lenin to promote revolution in countries other than the U.S.S.R.
• Pearl Buck
(born Pearl Sydenstricker) 1892-1973; U.S. novelist raised in China who won the 1932 Pulitzer
Prize for her novel, The Good Earth.
• cenotaph
a monument or empty tomb honoring a person or persons whose remains are elsewhere.
• Enola Gay
the B-29 bomber that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima, dubbed with this name to honor the
pilot’s mother.
• incarcerated
imprisoned; jailed.
• diplomatic pouch
sack or pouch with an opening at the top that can be closed and used by governments to
transport highly sensitive information.
• deterrence
the policy or practice of stockpiling nuclear weapons to deter another nation from making a
nuclear attack.
32
The Bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
On August 6, 1945, the first atomic bomb attack occured over Hiroshima, Japan. Three
days later, Nagasaki, Japan was bombed. On August 15, 1945, World War II ended with
the surrender of the Japanese
Eyewitness Account of Atomic Bomb
Over Nagasaki
- William L. Laurence
WAR DEPARTMENT
Bureau of Public Relations
PRESS BRANCH
FUTURE RELEASE
FOR RELEASE SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1945
EYE WITNESS ACCOUNT
ATOMIC BOMB MISSION OVER NAGASAKI
NOTE TO EDITORS:
The following release was written by William L. Laurence, Science writer for the New York Times, and Special
Consultant to the Manhattan Engineer District and former Pulitzer Prize winner. The story can be released with or
without the use of Mr. Laurence's name.
WITH THE ATOMIC BOMB MISSION TO JAPAN, AUGUST 9 (DELAYED)--We are on our
way to bomb the mainland of Japan. Our flying contingent consists of three specially designed
B-29 Superforts, and two of these carry no bombs. But our lead plane is on its way with
another atomic bomb, the second in three days, concentrating its active substance, and
explosive energy equivalent to 20,000, and under favorable conditions, 40,000 tons of TNT.
We have several chosen targets. One of these is the great industrial and shipping center of
Nagasaki, on the western shore of Kyushu, one of the main islands of the Japanese homeland.
I watched the assembly of this man-made meteor during the past two days, and was among
the small group of scientists and Army and Navy representatives privileged to be present at
the ritual of its loading in the Superfort last night, against a background of threatening black
skies torn open at intervals by great lightning flashes.
It is a thing of beauty to behold, this "gadget." In its design went millions of man-hours of
what is without a doubt the most concentrated intellectual effort in history. Never before had
so much brain-power been focused on a single problem.
33
This atomic bomb is different from the bomb used three days ago with such devastating
results on Hiroshima.
I saw the atomic substance before it was placed inside the bomb. By itself it is not at all
dangerous to handle. It is only under certain conditions, produced in the bomb assembly, that
it can be made to yield up its energy, and even then it gives up only a small fraction of its
total contents, a fraction, however, large enough to produce the greatest explosion on earth.
The briefing at midnight revealed the extreme care and the tremendous amount of preparation
that had been made to take care of every detail of the mission, in order to make certain that
the atomic bomb fully served the purpose for which it was intended. Each target in turn was
shown in detailed maps and in aerial photographs. Every detail of the course was rehearsed,
navigation, altitude, weather, where to land in emergencies. It came out that the Navy had
submarines and rescue craft, known as "Dumbos" and "Super Dumbos," stationed at various
strategic points in the vicinity of the targets, ready to rescue the fliers in case they were
forced to bail out.
The briefing period ended with a moving prayer by the Chaplain. We then proceeded to the
mess hall for the traditional early morning breakfast before departure on a bombing mission.
A convoy of trucks took us to the supply building for the special equipment carried on combat
missions. This included the "Mae West," a parachute, a life boat, an oxygen mask, a flak suit
and a survival vest. We still had a few hours before take-off time but we all went to the flying
field and stood around in little groups or sat in jeeps talking rather casually about our mission
to the Empire, as the Japanese home islands are known hereabouts.
In command of our mission is Major Charles W. Sweeney, 25, of 124 Hamilton Avenue, North
Quincy, Massachusetts. His flagship, carrying the atomic bomb, is named "The Great Artiste,"
but the name does not appear on the body of the great silver ship, with its unusually long,
four-bladed, orange-tipped propellers. Instead it carried the number "77," and someone
remarks that it is "Red" Grange's winning number on the Gridiron.
Major Sweeney's co-pilot is First Lieutenant Charles D. Albury, 24, of 252 Northwest Fourth
Street, Miami, Florida. The bombardier upon whose shoulders rests the responsibility of
depositing the atomic bomb square on its target, is Captain Kermit K. Beahan, of 1004
Telephone Road, Houston, Texas, who is celebrating his twenty-seventh birthday today.
Captain Beahan has been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Air Medal, and one
Silver Oak Leaf Cluster, the Purple Heart, the Western Hemisphere Ribbon, the European
Theater ribbon and two battle stars. He participated in the first heavy bombardment mission
against Germany from England on August 17, 1942, and was on the plane that transported
General Eisenhower from Gibraltar to Oran at the beginning of the North African invasion. He
has had a number of hair-raising escapes in combat.
The Navigator on "The Great Artiste" is Captain James F. Van Pelt, Jr., 27, of Oak Hill, West
Virginia. The flight engineer is Master Sergeant John D. Kuharek, 32, of 1054 22 nd Avenue,
Columbus, Nebraska. Staff Sergeant Albert T. De Hart of Plainview, Texas, who celebrated his
thirtieth birthday yesterday, is the tail gunner; the radar operator is Staff Sergeant Edward K.
Buckley, 32, of 529 East Washington Street, Lisbon, Ohio. The radio operator is Sergeant Abe
M. Spitzer, 33, of 655 Pelham Parkway, North Bronx, New York; Sergeant Raymond Gallagher,
23, of 5727 South Mozart Street, Chicago, Illinois, is assistant flight engineer.
34
The lead ship is also carrying a group of scientific personnel, headed by Commander Frederick
L. Ashworth, U.S.N., one of the leaders in the development of the bomb. The group includes
Lieutenant Jacob Beser, 24, of Baltimore, Maryland, an expert on airborne radar.
The other two Superforts in our formation are instrument planes, carrying special apparatus to
measure the power of the bomb at the time of explosion, high speed cameras and other
photographic equipment.
Our Superfort is the second in line. Its Commander is Captain Frederick C. Bock, 27, of 300
West Washington Street, Greenville, Michigan. Its other officers are Second Lieutenant Hugh
C. Ferguson, 21, of 247 Windermere Avenue, Highland Park, Michigan, pilot; Second
Lieutenant Leonard A. Godfrey, 24, of 72 Lincoln Street, Greenfield, Massachusetts, navigator;
and First Lieutenant Charles Levy, 26, of 1954 Spencer Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania,
bombardier.
The enlisted personnel of this Superfort are the following: Technical Sergeant Roderick F.
Arnold, 28, of 130 South Street, Rochester, Michigan, flight engineer; Sergeant Ralph D.
Curry, 20, of 1101 South 2nd Avenue, Hoopeston, Illinois, radio operator; Sergeant William C.
Barney, 22, of Columbia City, Indiana, radar operator; Corporal Robert J. Stock, 21, of 415
Downing Street, Fort Wayne, Indiana, assistant flight engineer; and Corporal Ralph D.
Belanger, 19, of Thendara, New York, tail gunner.
The scientific personnel of our Superfort includes: Staff Sergeant Walter Goodman, 22, of
1956 74th Street, Brooklyn, New York, and Lawrence Johnson, graduate student at the
University of California, whose home is at Hollywood, California.
The third Superfort is commanded by Major James Hopkins, 1311 North Queen Street,
Palestine, Texas. His officers are Second Lieutenant John E. Cantlon, 516 North Takima Street,
Tacoma, Washington, pilot; Second Lieutenant Stanley C. Steinke, 604 West Chestnut Street,
West Chester, Pennsylvania, navigator; and Second Lieutenant Myron Faryna, 16 Elgin Street,
Rochester, New York, bombardier.
The crew are Technical Sergeant George L. Brabenec, 9727 South Lawndale Avenue,
Evergreen, Illinois; Sergeant Francis X. Dolan, 30-60 Warrent Street, Elmhurst, New York;
Corporal Richard F. Cannon, 160 Carmel Road, Buffalo, New York; Corporal Martin G. Murray,
7356 Dexter Street, Detroit, Michigan, and Corporal Sidney J. Bellamy, 529 Johnston Avenue,
Trenton, New Jersey.
On this Superfort are also two distinguished observers from Great Britain, whose scientists
played an important role in the development of the Atomic Bomb. One of these is Group
Captain G. Leonard Cheshire, famous RAF pilot, who is now a member of the British Military
Mission to the United States. The other is Dr. William G. Penney, Professor of Applied
Mathematics London University, one of the group of eminent British scientists which has been
working at the "Y-Site" near Santa Fe, New Mexico, on the enormous problems involved in
taming the Atom.
Group Captain Cheshire, whose rank is the equivalent of that of Colonel in the AAF, was
designated as an observer of the Atomic Bomb in action by Winston Churchill when he was still
Prime Minister. He is now the official representative of Prime Minister Attlee.
We took off at 3:50 this morning and headed northwest on a straight line for the Empire. The
night was cloudy and threatening, with only a few stars here and there breaking through the
35
overcast. The weather report had predicted storms ahead part of the way but clear sailing for
the final and climactic stages of our odyssey.
We were about an hour away from our base when the storm broke. Our great ship took some
heavy dips through the abysmal darkness around us, but it took these dips much more
gracefully than a large commercial airliner, producing a sensation more in the nature of a glide
than a "bump" like a great ocean liner riding the waves. Except that in this case the air waves
were much higher and the rhythmic tempo of the glide much faster.
I noticed a strange eerie light coming through the window high above in the Navigator's cabin
and as I peered through the dark all around us I saw a startling phenomenon. The whirling
giant propellers had somehow become great luminous discs of blue flame. The same luminous
blue flame appeared on the plexiglass windows in the nose of the ship, and on the tips of the
giant wings it looked as though we were riding the whirlwind through space on a chariot of
blue fire.
It was, I surmised, a surcharge of static electricity that had accumulated on the tips of the
propellers and on the dielectric material in the plastic windows. One's thoughts dwelt anxiously
on the precious cargo in the invisible ship ahead of us. Was there any likelihood of danger that
this heavy electric tension in the atmosphere all about us may set it off?
I express my fears to Captain Bock, who seems nonchalant and imperturbed at the controls.
He quickly reassures me:
"It is a familiar phenomenon seen often on ships. I have seen it many times on bombing
missions. It is known as St. Elmo's Fire."
On we went through the night. We soon rode out the storm and our ship was once again
sailing on a smooth course straight ahead, on a direct line to the Empire.
Our altimeter showed that we were traveling through space at a height of 17,000 feet. The
thermometer registered an outside temperature of 33 degrees below zero centigrade (about
30 below Fahrenheit). Inside our pressurized cabin the temperature was that of a comfortable
air-conditioned room, and a pressure corresponding to an altitude of 8,000 feet. Captain Bock
cautioned me, however, to keep my oxygen mask handy in case of emergency. This, he
explained, may mean either something going wrong with the pressure equipment inside the
ship or a hole through the cabin by flak.
The first signs of dawn came shortly after 5:00 o'clock. Sergeant Curry, who had been
listening steadily on his earphones for radio reports while maintaining a strict radio silence
himself, greeted it by rising to his feet and gazing out the window. "It's good to see the day,"
he told me. "I get a feeling of claustrophobia hemmed in in this cabin at night."
He is a typical American youth, looking even younger than his 20 years. It takes no mind
reader to read his thoughts.
"It's a long way from Hoopeston, Illinois," I find myself remarking.
"Yep," he replies, as he busies himself decoding a message from outer space.
"Think this atomic bomb will end the war?" he asks hopefully.
36
"There is a very good chance that this one may do the trick," I assure him, "but if not then the
next one or two surely will. Its power is such that no nation can stand up against it very long."
This was not my own view. I had heard it expressed all around a few hours earlier before we
took off. To anyone who had seen this man-made fireball in action, as I had less than a month
ago in the desert of New Mexico, this view did not sound over-optimistic.
By 5:50 it was real light outside. We had lost our lead ship but Lieutenant Godfrey, our
Navigator, informs me that we had arranged for that contingency. We have an assembly point
in the sky above the little island of Yakoshima, southeast of Kyushu, at 9:10. We are to circle
there and wait for the rest of our formation.
Our genial Bombardier, Lieutenant Levy, comes over to invite me to take his front row seat in
the transparent nose of the ship and I accept eagerly. From that vantage point in space,
17,000 feet above the Pacific, one gets a view of hundreds of miles on all sides, horizontally
and vertically. At that height the vast ocean below and the sky above seem to merge into one
great sphere. I was on the inside of that firmament, riding above the giant mountains of white
cumulous clouds, letting myself be suspended in infinite space. One hears the whirl of the
motors behind one, but soon becomes insignificant against the immensity all around and is
before long swallowed by it. There comes a point where space also swallows time, and one
lives through eternal moments filled with an oppressive loneliness, as though all life had
suddenly vanished from the earth and you are only one left, a lone survivor traveling endlessly
through interplanetary space.
My mind soon returns to the mission I am on. Somewhere beyond these vast mountains of
white clouds ahead of me there lies Japan, the land of our enemy. In about four hours from
now one of its cities, making weapons of war for use against us will be wiped off the map by
the greatest weapon ever made by man. In one-tenth of a millionth of a second, a fraction of
time immeasurable by any clock, a whirlwind from the skies will pulverize thousands of its
buildings and tens of thousands of its inhabitants.
Our weather planes ahead of us are on their way to find out where the wind blows. Half an
hour before target time we will know what the winds have decided.
Does one feel any pity or compassion for the poor devils about to die? Not when one thinks of
Pearl Harbor and of the death march on Bataan.
Captain Bock informs me that we are about to start our climb to bombing altitude.
He manipulates a few knobs on his control panel to the right of him and I alternately watch
the white clouds and ocean below me and the altimeter on the Bombardier's panel. We
reached our altitude at 9:00 o'clock. We were then over Japanese waters, close to their
mainland. Lieutenant Godfrey motioned to me to look through his radar scope. Before me was
the outline of our assembly point. We shall soon meet our lead ship and proceed to the final
stage of our journey.
We reached Yakoshima at 9:12 and there, about 4,000 feet ahead of us, was "The Great
Artiste" with its precious load. I saw Lieutenant Godfrey and Sergeant Curry strap on their
parachutes and I decided to do likewise.
We started circling. We saw little towns on the coastline, heedless of our presence. We kept on
circling, waiting for the third ship in our formation.
37
It was 9:?? when we began heading for the coastline. Our weather scouts had sent us code
messages, deciphered by Sergeant Curry, informing us that both the primary target as well as
the secondary were clearly visible.
The winds of destiny seemed to favor certain Japanese cities that must remain nameless. We
circled about them again and again and found no opening in the thick umbrella of clouds that
covered them. Destiny chose Nagasaki as the ultimate target.
We had been circling for some time when we noticed black puffs of smoke coming through the
white clouds directly at us. There were 15 bursts of flak in rapid succession, all too low.
Captain Bock changed his course. There soon followed eight more bursts of flak, right up to
our altitude, but by this time we were too far to the left.
We flew southward down the channel and at 11:33 crossed the coastline and headed straight
for Nagasaki about a hundred miles to the west. Here again we circled until we found an
opening in the clouds. It was 12:01 and the goal of our mission had arrived.
We heard the pre-arranged signal on our radio, put on our ARC welder's glasses and watched
tensely the maneuverings of the strike ship about half a mile in front of us.
"There she goes!" someone said. Out of the belly of the Artiste what looked like a black object
came downward.
Captain Bock swung around to get out of range, but even though we were turning away in the
opposite direction, and despite the fact that it was broad daylight in our cabin, all of us
became aware of a giant flash that broke through the dark barrier of our ARC welder's lenses
and flooded our cabin with an intense light.
We removed our glasses after the first flash but the light still lingered on, a bluish-green light
that illuminated the entire sky all around. A tremendous blast wave struck our ship and made
it tremble from nose to tail. This was followed by four more blasts in rapid succession, each
resounding like the boom of cannon fire hitting our plane from all directions.
Observers in the tail of our ship saw a giant ball of fire rise as though from the bowels of the
earth, belching forth enormous white smoke rings. Next they saw a giant pillar of purple fire,
10,000 feet high, shooting skyward with enormous speed.
By the time our ship had made another turn in the direction of the atomic explosion the pillar
of purple fire had reached the level of our altitude. Only about 45 seconds had passed. Awestruck, we watched it shoot upward like a meteor coming from the earth instead of from outer
space, becoming ever more alive as it climbed skyward through the white clouds. It was no
longer smoke, or dust, or even a cloud of fire. It was a living thing, a new species of being,
born right before our incredulous eyes.
At one stage of its evolution, covering missions of years in terms of seconds, the entity
assumed the form of a giant square totem pole, with its base about three miles long, tapering
off to about a mile at the top. Its bottom was brown, its center was amber, its top white. But
it was a living totem pole, carved with many grotesque masks grimacing at the earth.
Then, just when it appeared as though the thing has settled down into a state of permanence,
there came shooting out of the top a giant mushroom that increased the height of the pillar to
a total of 45,000 feet. The mushroom top was even more alive than the pillar, seething and
38
boiling in a white fury of creamy foam, sizzling upwards and then descending earthward, a
thousand old faithful geysers rolled into one.
It kept struggling in an elemental fury, like a creature in the act of breaking the bonds that
held it down. In a few seconds it had freed itself from its gigantic stem and floated upward
with tremendous speed, its momentum carrying into the stratosphere to a height of about
60,000 feet.
But no sooner did this happen when another mushroom, smaller in size than the first one,
began emerging out of the pillar. It was as though the decapitated monster was growing a
new head.
As the first mushroom floated off into the blue it changed its shape into a flower-like form, its
giant petal curving downward, creamy white outside, rose-colored inside. It still retained that
shape when we last gazed at it from a distance of about 200 miles.
39
Eyewitness Account of Hiroshima
By Father John A. Siemes, professor of modern philosophy at
Tokyo's Catholic University
Hiroshima- August 6th, 1945
Up to August 6th, occasional bombs, which did no great damage, had fallen on Hiroshima.
Many cities roundabout, one after the other, were destroyed, but Hiroshima itself remained
protected. There were almost daily observation planes over the city but none of them dropped
a bomb. The citizens wondered why they alone had remained undisturbed for so long a time.
There were fantastic rumors that the enemy had something special in mind for this city, but
no one dreamed that the end would come in such a fashion as on the morning of August 6th.
August 6th began in a bright, clear, summer morning. About seven o'clock, there was an air
raid alarm which we had heard almost every day and a few planes appeared over the city. No
one paid any attention and at about eight o'clock, the all-clear was sounded. I am sitting in
my room at the Novitiate of the Society of Jesus in Nagatsuke; during the past half year, the
philosophical and theological section of our Mission had been evacuated to this place from
Tokyo. The Novitiate is situated approximately two kilometers from Hiroshima, half-way up the
sides of a broad valley which stretches from the town at sea level into this mountainous
hinterland, and through which courses a river. From my window, I have a wonderful view
down the valley to the edge of the city.
Suddenly--the time is approximately 8:14--the whole valley is filled by a garish light which
resembles the magnesium light used in photography, and I am conscious of a wave of heat. I
jump to the window to find out the cause of this remarkable phenomenon, but I see nothing
more than that brilliant yellow light. As I make for the door, it doesn't occur to me that the
light might have something to do with enemy planes. On the way from the window, I hear a
moderately loud explosion which seems to come from a distance and, at the same time, the
windows are broken in with a loud crash. There has been an interval of perhaps ten seconds
since the flash of light. I am sprayed by fragments of glass. The entire window frame has been
forced into the room. I realize now that a bomb has burst and I am under the impression that
it exploded directly over our house or in the immediate vicinity.
I am bleeding from cuts about the hands and head. I attempt to get out of the door. It has
been forced outwards by the air pressure and has become jammed. I force an opening in the
door by means of repeated blows with my hands and feet and come to a broad hallway from
which open the various rooms. Everything is in a state of confusion. All windows are broken
and all the doors are forced inwards. The bookshelves in the hallway have tumbled down. I do
not note a second explosion and the fliers seem to have gone on. Most of my colleagues have
been injured by fragments of glass. A few are bleeding but none has been seriously injured.
All of us have been fortunate since it is now apparent that the wall of my room opposite the
window has been lacerated by long fragments of glass.
We proceed to the front of the house to see where the bomb has landed. There is no evidence,
however, of a bomb crater; but the southeast section of the house is very severely damaged.
Not a door nor a window remains. The blast of air had penetrated the entire house from the
southeast, but the house still stands. It is constructed in a Japanese style with a wooden
framework, but has been greatly strengthened by the labor of our Brother Gropper as is
frequently done in Japanese homes. Only along the front of the chapel which adjoins the
40
house, three supports have given way (it has been made in the manner of Japanese temple,
entirely out of wood.)
Down in the valley, perhaps one kilometer toward the city from us, several peasant homes are
on fire and the woods on the opposite side of the valley are aflame. A few of us go over to
help control the flames. While we are attempting to put things in order, a storm comes up and
it begins to rain. Over the city, clouds of smoke are rising and I hear a few slight explosions. I
come to the conclusion that an incendiary bomb with an especially strong explosive action has
gone off down in the valley. A few of us saw three planes at great altitude over the city at the
time of the explosion. I, myself, saw no aircraft whatsoever.
Perhaps a half-hour after the explosion, a procession of people begins to stream up the valley
from the city. The crowd thickens continuously. A few come up the road to our house. We give
them first aid and bring them into the chapel, which we have in the meantime cleaned and
cleared of wreckage, and put them to rest on the straw mats which constitute the floor of
Japanese houses. A few display horrible wounds of the extremities and back. The small
quantity of fat which we possessed during this time of war was soon used up in the care of the
burns. Father Rektor who, before taking holy orders, had studied medicine, ministers to the
injured, but our bandages and drugs are soon gone. We must be content with cleansing the
wounds.
More and more of the injured come to us. The least injured drag the more seriously wounded.
There are wounded soldiers, and mothers carrying burned children in their arms. From the
houses of the farmers in the valley comes word: "Our houses are full of wounded and dying.
Can you help, at least by taking the worst cases?" The wounded come from the sections at the
edge of the city. They saw the bright light, their houses collapsed and buried the inmates in
their rooms. Those that were in the open suffered instantaneous burns, particularly on the
lightly clothed or unclothed parts of the body. Numerous fires sprang up which soon consumed
the entire district. We now conclude that the epicenter of the explosion was at the edge of the
city near the Jokogawa Station, three kilometers away from us. We are concerned about
Father Kopp who that same morning, went to hold Mass at the Sisters of the Poor, who have a
home for children at the edge of the city. He had not returned as yet.
Toward noon, our large chapel and library are filled with the seriously injured. The procession
of refugees from the city continues. Finally, about one o'clock, Father Kopp returns, together
with the Sisters. Their house and the entire district where they live has burned to the ground.
Father Kopp is bleeding about the head and neck, and he has a large burn on the right palm.
He was standing in front of the nunnery ready to go home. All of a sudden, he became aware
of the light, felt the wave of heat and a large blister formed on his hand. The windows were
torn out by the blast. He thought that the bomb had fallen in his immediate vicinity. The
nunnery, also a wooden structure made by our Brother Gropper, still remained but soon it is
noted that the house is as good as lost because the fire, which had begun at many points in
the neighborhood, sweeps closer and closer, and water is not available. There is still time to
rescue certain things from the house and to bury them in an open spot. Then the house is
swept by flame, and they fight their way back to us along the shore of the river and through
the burning streets.
Soon comes news that the entire city has been destroyed by the explosion and that it is on
fire. What became of Father Superior and the three other Fathers who were at the center of
the city at the Central Mission and Parish House? We had up to this time not given them a
thought because we did not believe that the effects of the bomb encompassed the entire city.
Also, we did not want to go into town except under pressure of dire necessity, because we
41
thought that the population was greatly perturbed and that it might take revenge on any
foreigners which they might consider spiteful onlookers of their misfortune, or even spies.
Father Stolte and Father Erlinghagen go down to the road which is still full of refugees and
bring in the seriously injured who have sunken by the wayside, to the temporary aid station at
the village school. There iodine is applied to the wounds but they are left uncleansed. Neither
ointments nor other therapeutic agents are available. Those that have been brought in are laid
on the floor and no one can give them any further care. What could one do when all means
are lacking? Under those circumstances, it is almost useless to bring them in. Among the
passersby, there are many who are uninjured. In a purposeless, insensate manner, distraught
by the magnitude of the disaster most of them rush by and none conceives the thought of
organizing help on his own initiative. They are concerned only with the welfare of their own
families. It became clear to us during these days that the Japanese displayed little initiative,
preparedness, and organizational skill in preparation for catastrophes. They failed to carry out
any rescue work when something could have been saved by a cooperative effort, and
fatalistically let the catastrophe take its course. When we urged them to take part in the
rescue work, they did everything willingly, but on their own initiative they did very little.
At about four o'clock in the afternoon, a theology student and two kindergarten children, who
lived at the Parish House and adjoining buildings which had burned down, came in and said
that Father Superior LaSalle and Father Schiffer had been seriously injured and that they had
taken refuge in Asano Park on the river bank. It is obvious that we must bring them in since
they are too weak to come here on foot.
Hurriedly, we get together two stretchers and seven of us rush toward the city. Father Rektor
comes along with food and medicine. The closer we get to the city, the greater is the evidence
of destruction and the more difficult it is to make our way. The houses at the edge of the city
are all severely damaged. Many have collapsed or burned down. Further in, almost all of the
dwellings have been damaged by fire. Where the city stood, there is a gigantic burned-out
scar. We make our way along the street on the river bank among the burning and smoking
ruins. Twice we are forced into the river itself by the heat and smoke at the level of the street.
Frightfully burned people beckon to us. Along the way, there are many dead and dying. On the
Misasi Bridge, which leads into the inner city we are met by a long procession of soldiers who
have suffered burns. They drag themselves along with the help of staves or are carried by
their less severely injured comrades...an endless procession of the unfortunate.
Abandoned on the bridge, there stand with sunken heads a number of horses with large burns
on their flanks. On the far side, the cement structure of the local hospital is the only building
that remains standing. Its interior, however, has been burned out. It acts as a landmark to
guide us on our way.
Finally we reach the entrance of the park. A large proportion of the populace has taken refuge
there, but even the trees of the park are on fire in several places. Paths and bridges are
blocked by the trunks of fallen trees and are almost impassable. We are told that a high wind,
which may well have resulted from the heat of the burning city, has uprooted the large trees.
It is now quite dark. Only the fires, which are still raging in some places at a distance, give out
a little light.
At the far corner of the park, on the river bank itself, we at last come upon our colleagues.
Father Schiffer is on the ground pale as a ghost. He has a deep incised wound behind the ear
and has lost so much blood that we are concerned about his chances for survival. The Father
42
Superior has suffered a deep wound of the lower leg. Father Cieslik and Father Kleinsorge
have minor injuries but are completely exhausted.
While they are eating the food that we have brought along, they tell us of their experiences.
They were in their rooms at the Parish House--it was a quarter after eight, exactly the time
when we had heard the explosion in Nagatsuke--when came the intense light and immediately
thereafter the sound of breaking windows, walls and furniture. They were showered with glass
splinters and fragments of wreckage. Father Schiffer was buried beneath a portion of a wall
and suffered a severe head injury. The Father Superior received most of the splinters in his
back and lower extremity from which he bled copiously. Everything was thrown about in the
rooms themselves, but the wooden framework of the house remained intact. The solidity of
the structure which was the work of Brother Gropper again shone forth.
They had the same impression that we had in Nagatsuke: that the bomb had burst in their
immediate vicinity. The Church, school, and all buildings in the immediate vicinity collapsed at
once. Beneath the ruins of the school, the children cried for help. They were freed with great
effort. Several others were also rescued from the ruins of nearby dwellings. Even the Father
Superior and Father Schiffer despite their wounds, rendered aid to others and lost a great deal
of blood in the process.
In the meantime, fires which had begun some distance away are raging even closer, so that it
becomes obvious that everything would soon burn down. Several objects are rescued from the
Parish House and were buried in a clearing in front of the Church, but certain valuables and
necessities which had been kept ready in case of fire could not be found on account of the
confusion which had been wrought. It is high time to flee, since the oncoming flames leave
almost no way open. Fukai, the secretary of the Mission, is completely out of his mind. He
does not want to leave the house and explains that he does not want to survive the
destruction of his fatherland. He is completely uninjured. Father Kleinsorge drags him out of
the house on his back and he is forcefully carried away.
Beneath the wreckage of the houses along the way, many have been trapped and they scream
to be rescued from the oncoming flames. They must be left to their fate. The way to the place
in the city to which one desires to flee is no longer open and one must make for Asano Park.
Fukai does not want to go further and remains behind. He has not been heard from since. In
the park, we take refuge on the bank of the river. A very violent whirlwind now begins to
uproot large trees, and lifts them high into the air. As it reaches the water, a waterspout forms
which is approximately 100 meters high. The violence of the storm luckily passes us by. Some
distance away, however, where numerous refugees have taken shelter, many are blown into
the river. Almost all who are in the vicinity have been injured and have lost relatives who have
been pinned under the wreckage or who have been lost sight of during the flight. There is no
help for the wounded and some die. No one pays any attention to a dead man lying nearby.
The transportation of our own wounded is difficult. It is not possible to dress their wounds
properly in the darkness, and they bleed again upon slight motion. As we carry them on the
shaky litters in the dark over fallen trees of the park, they suffer unbearable pain as the result
of the movement, and lose dangerously large quantities of blood. Our rescuing angel in this
difficult situation is a Japanese Protestant pastor. He has brought up a boat and offers to take
our wounded up stream to a place where progress is easier. First, we lower the litter
containing Father Schiffer into the boat and two of us accompany him. We plan to bring the
boat back for the Father Superior. The boat returns about one-half hour later and the pastor
requests that several of us help in the rescue of two children whom he had seen in the river.
We rescue them. They have severe burns. Soon they suffer chills and die in the park.
43
The Father Superior is conveyed in the boat in the same manner as Father Schiffer. The
theology student and myself accompany him. Father Cieslik considers himself strong enough
to make his way on foot to Nagatsuke with the rest of us, but Father Kleinsorge cannot walk
so far and we leave him behind and promise to come for him and the housekeeper tomorrow.
From the other side of the stream comes the whinny of horses who are threatened by the fire.
We land on a sand spit which juts out from the shore. It is full of wounded who have taken
refuge there. They scream for aid for they are afraid of drowning as the river may rise with
the sea, and cover the sand spit. They themselves are too weak to move. However, we must
press on and finally we reach the spot where the group containing Father Schiffer is waiting.
Here a rescue party had brought a large case of fresh rice cakes but there is no one to
distribute them to the numerous wounded that lie all about. We distribute them to those that
are nearby and also help ourselves. The wounded call for water and we come to the aid of a
few. Cries for help are heard from a distance, but we cannot approach the ruins from which
they come. A group of soldiers comes along the road and their officer notices that we speak a
strange language. He at once draws his sword, screamingly demands who we are and
threatens to cut us down. Father Laures, Jr., seizes his arm and explains that we are German.
We finally quiet him down. He thought that we might well be Americans who had parachuted
down. Rumors of parachutists were being bandied about the city. The Father Superior who
was clothed only in a shirt and trousers, complains of feeling freezing cold, despite the warm
summer night and the heat of the burning city. The one man among us who possesses a coat
gives it to him and, in addition, I give him my own shirt. To me, it seems more comfortable to
be without a shirt in the heat.
In the meantime, it has become midnight. Since there are not enough of us to man both litters
with four strong bearers, we determine to remove Father Schiffer first to the outskirts of the
city. From there, another group of bearers is to take over to Nagatsuke; the others are to turn
back in order to rescue the Father Superior. I am one of the bearers. The theology student
goes in front to warn us of the numerous wires, beams and fragments of ruins which block the
way and which are impossible to see in the dark. Despite all precautions, our progress is
stumbling and our feet get tangled in the wire. Father Kruer falls and carries the litter with
him. Father Schiffer becomes half unconscious from the fall and vomits. We pass an injured
man who sits all alone among the hot ruins and whom I had seen previously on the way down.
On the Misasa Bridge, we meet Father Tappe and Father Luhmer, who have come to meet us
from Nagatsuke. They had dug a family out of the ruins of their collapsed house some fifty
meters off the road. The father of the family was already dead. They had dragged out two girls
and placed them by the side of the road. Their mother was still trapped under some beams.
They had planned to complete the rescue and then to press on to meet us. At the outskirts of
the city, we put down the litter and leave two men to wait until those who are to come from
Nagatsuke appear. The rest of us turn back to fetch the Father Superior.
Most of the ruins have now burned down. The darkness kindly hides the many forms that lie
on the ground. Only occasionally in our quick progress do we hear calls for help. One of us
remarks that the remarkable burned smell reminds him of incinerated corpses. The upright,
squatting form which we had passed by previously is still there.
Transportation on the litter, which has been constructed out of boards, must be very painful to
the Father Superior, whose entire back is full of fragments of glass. In a narrow passage at
the edge of town, a car forces us to the edge of the road. The litter bearers on the left side fall
into a two meter deep ditch which they could not see in the darkness. Father Superior hides
his pain with a dry joke, but the litter which is now no longer in one piece cannot be carried
further. We decide to wait until Kinjo can bring a hand cart from Nagatsuke. He soon comes
44
back with one that he has requisitioned from a collapsed house. We place Father Superior on
the cart and wheel him the rest of the way, avoiding as much as possible the deeper pits in
the road.
About half past four in the morning, we finally arrive at the Novitiate. Our rescue expedition
had taken almost twelve hours. Normally, one could go back and forth to the city in two hours.
Our two wounded were now, for the first time, properly dressed. I get two hours sleep on the
floor; some one else has taken my own bed. Then I read a Mass in gratiarum actionem, it is
the 7th of August, the anniversary of the foundation of our society. Then we bestir ourselves
to bring Father Kleinsorge and other acquaintances out of the city.
We take off again with the hand cart. The bright day now reveals the frightful picture which
last night's darkness had partly concealed. Where the city stood everything, as far as the eye
could reach, is a waste of ashes and ruin. Only several skeletons of buildings completely
burned out in the interior remain. The banks of the river are covered with dead and wounded,
and the rising waters have here and there covered some of the corpses. On the broad street in
the Hakushima district, naked burned cadavers are particularly numerous. Among them are
the wounded who are still alive. A few have crawled under the burnt-out autos and trams.
Frightfully injured forms beckon to us and then collapse. An old woman and a girl whom she is
pulling along with her fall down at our feet. We place them on our cart and wheel them to the
hospital at whose entrance a dressing station has been set up. Here the wounded lie on the
hard floor, row on row. Only the largest wounds are dressed. We convey another soldier and
an old woman to the place but we cannot move everybody who lies exposed in the sun. It
would be endless and it is questionable whether those whom we can drag to the dressing
station can come out alive, because even here nothing really effective can be done. Later, we
ascertain that the wounded lay for days in the burnt-out hallways of the hospital and there
they died.
We must proceed to our goal in the park and are forced to leave the wounded to their fate. We
make our way to the place where our church stood to dig up those few belongings that we had
buried yesterday. We find them intact. Everything else has been completely burned. In the
ruins, we find a few molten remnants of holy vessels. At the park, we load the housekeeper
and a mother with her two children on the cart. Father Kleinsorge feels strong enough, with
the aid of Brother Nobuhara, to make his way home on foot. The way back takes us once
again past the dead and wounded in Hakushima. Again no rescue parties are in evidence. At
the Misasa Bridge, there still lies the family which the Fathers Tappe and Luhmer had
yesterday rescued from the ruins. A piece of tin had been placed over them to shield them
from the sun. We cannot take them along for our cart is full. We give them and those nearby
water to drink and decide to rescue them later. At three o'clock in the afternoon, we are back
in Nagatsuka.
After we have had a few swallows and a little food, Fathers Stolte, Luhmer, Erlinghagen and
myself, take off once again to bring in the family. Father Kleinsorge requests that we also
rescue two children who had lost their mother and who had lain near him in the park. On the
way, we were greeted by strangers who had noted that we were on a mission of mercy and
who praised our efforts. We now met groups of individuals who were carrying the wounded
about on litters. As we arrived at the Misasa Bridge, the family that had been there was gone.
They might well have been borne away in the meantime. There was a group of soldiers at
work taking away those that had been sacrificed yesterday.
More than thirty hours had gone by until the first official rescue party had appeared on the
scene. We find both children and take them out of the park: a six-year old boy who was
uninjured, and a twelve-year old girl who had been burned about the head, hands and legs,
45
and who had lain for thirty hours without care in the park. The left side of her face and the left
eye were completely covered with blood and pus, so that we thought that she had lost the
eye. When the wound was later washed, we noted that the eye was intact and that the lids
had just become stuck together. On the way home, we took another group of three refugees
with us. They first wanted to know, however, of what nationality we were. They, too, feared
that we might be Americans who had parachuted in. When we arrived in Nagatsuka, it had
just become dark.
We took under our care fifty refugees who had lost everything. The majority of them were
wounded and not a few had dangerous burns. Father Rektor treated the wounds as well as he
could with the few medicaments that we could, with effort, gather up. He had to confine
himself in general to cleansing the wounds of purulent material. Even those with the smaller
burns are very weak and all suffered from diarrhea. In the farm houses in the vicinity, almost
everywhere, there are also wounded. Father Rektor made daily rounds and acted in the
capacity of a painstaking physician and was a great Samaritan. Our work was, in the eyes of
the people, a greater boost for Christianity than all our work during the preceding long years.
Three of the severely burned in our house died within the next few days. Suddenly the pulse
and respirations ceased. It is certainly a sign of our good care that so few died. In the official
aid stations and hospitals, a good third or half of those that had been brought in died. They
lay about there almost without care, and a very high percentage succumbed. Everything was
lacking: doctors, assistants, dressings, drugs, etc. In an aid station at a school at a nearby
village, a group of soldiers for several days did nothing except to bring in and cremate the
dead behind the school.
During the next few days, funeral processions passed our house from morning to night,
bringing the deceased to a small valley nearby. There, in six places, the dead were burned.
People brought their own wood and themselves did the cremation. Father Luhmer and Father
Laures found a dead man in a nearby house who had already become bloated and who
emitted a frightful odor. They brought him to this valley and incinerated him themselves. Even
late at night, the little valley was lit up by the funeral pyres.
We made systematic efforts to trace our acquaintances and the families of the refugees whom
we had sheltered. Frequently, after the passage of several weeks, some one was found in a
distant village or hospital but of many there was no news, and these were apparently dead.
We were lucky to discover the mother of the two children whom we had found in the park and
who had been given up for dead. After three weeks, she saw her children once again. In the
great joy of the reunion were mingled the tears for those whom we shall not see again.
The magnitude of the disaster that befell Hiroshima on August 6th was only slowly pieced
together in my mind. I lived through the catastrophe and saw it only in flashes, which only
gradually were merged to give me a total picture. What actually happened simultaneously in
the city as a whole is as follows: As a result of the explosion of the bomb at 8:15, almost the
entire city was destroyed at a single blow. Only small outlying districts in the southern and
eastern parts of the town escaped complete destruction. The bomb exploded over the center
of the city. As a result of the blast, the small Japanese houses in a diameter of five kilometers,
which compressed 99% of the city, collapsed or were blown up. Those who were in the houses
were buried in the ruins. Those who were in the open sustained burns resulting from contact
with the substance or rays emitted by the bomb. Where the substance struck in quantity, fires
sprang up. These spread rapidly.
The heat which rose from the center created a whirlwind which was effective in spreading fire
throughout the whole city. Those who had been caught beneath the ruins and who could not
46
be freed rapidly, and those who had been caught by the flames, became casualties. As much
as six kilometers from the center of the explosion, all houses were damaged and many
collapsed and caught fire. Even fifteen kilometers away, windows were broken. It was rumored
that the enemy fliers had spread an explosive and incendiary material over the city and then
had created the explosion and ignition. A few maintained that they saw the planes drop a
parachute which had carried something that exploded at a height of 1,000 meters. The
newspapers called the bomb an "atomic bomb" and noted that the force of the blast had
resulted from the explosion of uranium atoms, and that gamma rays had been sent out as a
result of this, but no one knew anything for certain concerning the nature of the bomb.
How many people were a sacrifice to this bomb? Those who had lived through the catastrophe
placed the number of dead at at least 100,000. Hiroshima had a population of 400,000.
Official statistics place the number who had died at 70,000 up to September 1st, not counting
the missing ... and 130,000 wounded, among them 43,500 severely wounded. Estimates
made by ourselves on the basis of groups known to us show that the number of 100,000 dead
is not too high. Near us there are two barracks, in each of which forty Korean workers lived.
On the day of the explosion, they were laboring on the streets of Hiroshima. Four returned
alive to one barracks and sixteen to the other. 600 students of the Protestant girls' school
worked in a factory, from which only thirty to forty returned. Most of the peasant families in
the neighborhood lost one or more of their members who had worked at factories in the city.
Our next door neighbor, Tamura, lost two children and himself suffered a large wound since,
as it happened, he had been in the city on that day. The family of our reader suffered two
dead, father and son; thus a family of five members suffered at least two losses, counting only
the dead and severely wounded. There died the Mayor, the President of the central Japan
district, the Commander of the city, a Korean prince who had been stationed in Hiroshima in
the capacity of an officer, and many other high ranking officers. Of the professors of the
University, thirty-two were killed or severely injured. Especially hard hit were the soldiers. The
Pioneer Regiment was almost entirely wiped out. The barracks were near the center of the
explosion.
Thousands of wounded who died later could doubtless have been rescued had they received
proper treatment and care, but rescue work in a catastrophe of this magnitude had not been
envisioned; since the whole city had been knocked out at a blow, everything which had been
prepared for emergency work was lost, and no preparation had been made for rescue work in
the outlying districts. Many of the wounded also died because they had been weakened by
under-nourishment and consequently lacked in strength to recover. Those who had their
normal strength and who received good care slowly healed the burns which had been
occasioned by the bomb. There were also cases, however, whose prognosis seemed good who
died suddenly. There were also some who had only small external wounds who died within a
week or later, after an inflammation of the pharynx and oral cavity had taken place. We
thought at first that this was the result of inhalation of the substance of the bomb. Later, a
commission established the thesis that gamma rays had been given out at the time of the
explosion, following which the internal organs had been injured in a manner resembling that
consequent upon Roentgen irradiation. This produces a diminution in the numbers of the white
corpuscles.
Only several cases are known to me personally where individuals who did not have external
burns later died. Father Kleinsorge and Father Cieslik, who were near the center of the
explosion, but who did not suffer burns became quite weak some fourteen days after the
explosion. Up to this time small incised wounds had healed normally, but thereafter the
wounds which were still unhealed became worse and are to date (in September) still
incompletely healed. The attending physician diagnosed it as leucopania. There thus seems to
be some truth in the statement that the radiation had some effect on the blood. I am of the
47
opinion, however, that their generally undernourished and weakened condition was partly
responsible for these findings. It was noised about that the ruins of the city emitted deadly
rays and that workers who went there to aid in the clearing died, and that the central district
would be uninhabitable for some time to come. I have my doubts as to whether such talk is
true and myself and others who worked in the ruined area for some hours shortly after the
explosion suffered no such ill effects.
None of us in those days heard a single outburst against the Americans on the part of the
Japanese, nor was there any evidence of a vengeful spirit. The Japanese suffered this terrible
blow as part of the fortunes of war ... something to be borne without complaint. During this,
war, I have noted relatively little hatred toward the allies on the part of the people
themselves, although the press has taken occasion to stir up such feelings. After the victories
at the beginning of the war, the enemy was rather looked down upon, but when allied
offensive gathered momentum and especially after the advent of the majestic B-29's, the
technical skill of America became an object of wonder and admiration.
The following anecdote indicates the spirit of the Japanese: A few days after the atomic
bombing, the secretary of the University came to us asserting that the Japanese were ready to
destroy San Francisco by means of an equally effective bomb. It is dubious that he himself
believed what he told us. He merely wanted to impress upon us foreigners that the Japanese
were capable of similar discoveries. In his nationalistic pride, he talked himself into believing
this. The Japanese also intimated that the principle of the new bomb was a Japanese
discovery. It was only lack of raw materials, they said, which prevented its construction. In
the meantime, the Germans were said to have carried the discovery to a further stage and
were about to initiate such bombing. The Americans were reputed to have learned the secret
from the Germans, and they had then brought the bomb to a stage of industrial completion.
We have discussed among ourselves the ethics of the use of the bomb. Some consider it in the
same category as poison gas and were against its use on a civil population. Others were of the
view that in total war, as carried on in Japan, there was no difference between civilians and
soldiers, and that the bomb itself was an effective force tending to end the bloodshed, warning
Japan to surrender and thus to avoid total destruction. It seems logical to me that he who
supports total war in principle cannot complain of war against civilians. The crux of the matter
is whether total war in its present form is justifiable, even when it serves a just purpose. Does
it not have material and spiritual evil as its consequences which far exceed whatever good that
might result? When will our moralists give us a clear answer to this question?
48
On My Participation In The Atom Bomb
Project
by A. Einstein
In response to the editor of Kaizo, Einstein wrote this short essay to describe his limited involvement in the
development of the atomic bomb. Einstein stated that his participation consisted of "a single act" - signing the
1939 letter to President Roosevelt. "I did not see any other way out, although I always was a convinced pacifist."
The essay appeared in a special edition of Kaizo published in 1952.
My participation in the production of the atom bomb consisted in a single act: I signed a letter
to President Roosevelt. this letter stressed the necessity of large scale experimentation to
ascertain the possibility of producing an atom bomb.
I was well aware of the dreadful danger for all mankind, if these experiments would succeed.
But the probability that the Germans might work on that very problem with good chance of
success prompted me to take that step. I did not see any other way out, although I always
was a convinced pacifist. To kill in war time, it seems to me, is in no ways better than
common murder.
As long however, as nations are ready to abolish war by common action and to solve their
conflicts in a peaceful way on a legal basis. they feel compelled to prepare for war. They feel
moreover compelled to prepare the most abominable means, in order not to be left behind in
the general armaments race. Such procedure leads inevitable to war, which, in turn, under
todays conditions, spells universal destruction.
Under such circumstances there is no hope in combating the production of specific weapons or
means of destruction. Only radical abolition of war and of danger of war can help. Toward this
goal one should strive; in fact nobody should allow himself to be forced into actions contrary
to this goal. This is a harsh demand for anyone who is aware of his social inter-relatedness;
but it can be followed.
Gandhi, the greatest political genius of our time has shown the way, and has demonstrated
the sacrifices man is willing to bring if only he has found the right way. His work for the
liberation of India is a living example that man's will, sustained by an indomitable conviction is
stronger than apparently invincible material power.
49
Truman's Reflections on the Atomic
Bombings
Below is a letter written by Harry Truman on January 12, 1953 to Prof. James L. Cate which seems to clearly
present his understanding of the necessity of using the atomic bombs to end World War II.
THE WHITE HOUSE
Washington
January 12, 1953
My Dear Professor Cate;
Your letter of December 6, 1952 has just been delivered to me. When the message came to
Potsdam that a successful atomic explosion had taken place in New Mexico, there was much
excitement and conversation about the effect on the war then in progress with Japan. The
next day I told the Prime Minsiter of Great Britain and Generalissimo Stalin that the explosion
had been a success. The British Prime Minister understood and appreciated what I'd told him.
Premier Stalin smiled and thanked me for reporting the explosion to him, but I'm sure he did
not understand its significance. I called a meeting of the Secretary of State, Mr. Byrnes, the
Secretary of War, Mr. Stimson, Admiral Leahy, General Marshall, General Eisenhower, Admiral
King and some others, to discuss what should be done with this awful weapon.
I asked General Marshall what it would cost in lives to land on the Tokyo plain and other
places in Japan. It was his opinion that such an invasion would cost at a minimum one quarter
of a million casualties, and might cost as much as a million, on the American side alone, with
an equal number of the enemy. The other military and naval men present agreed. I asked
Secretary Stimson which sites in Japan were devoted to war production. He promptly named
Hiroshima and Nagasaki, among others. We sent an ultimatum to Japan. It was rejected.
I ordered atomic bombs dropped on the two cities named on the way back from Potsdam,
when we were in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. In your letter, you raise the fact that the
directive to General Spaatz to prepare for delivering the bomb is dated July twenty-fifth. It
was, of course, necessary to set the military wheels in motion, as these orders did, but the
final decision was in my hands, and was not made until we were returning from Potsdam.
Dropping the bombs ended the war, saved lives, and gave the free nations a chance to face
the facts. When it looked as if Japan would quit, Russia hurried into the fray less than a week
before the surrender, so as to be in at the settlement. No military contribution was made by
the Russians toward victory over Japan. Prisoners were surrendered and Manchuria occupied
by the Soviets, as was Korea, North of the 38th parallel.
Sincerely,
(The letter was signed by Harry Truman.)
50
White House Press Release on Hiroshima
Statement by the President of the United States
Sixteen hours ago an American airplane dropped one bomb on Hiroshima, an important
Japanese Army base. That bomb had more power than 20,000 tons of T.N.T. It had more than
two thousand times the blast power of the British "Grand Slam" which is the largest bomb
ever yet used in the history of warfare.
The Japanese began the war from the air at Pearl Harbor. They have been repaid many fold.
And the end is not yet. With this bomb we have now added a new and revolutionary increase
in destruction to supplement the growing power of our armed forces. In their present form
these bombs are now in production and even more powerful forms are in development.
It is an atomic bomb. It is a harnessing of the basic power of the universe. The force from
which the sun draws its power has been loosed against those who brought war to the Far East.
Before 1939, it was the accepted belief of scientists that it was theoretically possible to release
atomic energy. But no one knew any practical method of doing it. By 1942, however, we knew
that the Germans were working feverishly to find a way to add atomic energy to the other
engines of war with which they hoped to enslave the world. But they failed. We may be
grateful to Providence that the Germans got the V-1's and the V-2's late and in limited
quantities and even more grateful that they did not get the atomic bomb at all.
The battle of the laboratories held fateful risks for us as well as the battles of the air, land and
sea, and we have now won the battle of the laboratories as we have won the other battles.
Beginning in 1940, before Pearl Harbor, scientific knowledge useful in war was pooled between
the United States and Great Britain, and many priceless helps to our victories have come from
that arrangement. Under that general policy the research on the atomic bomb was begun.
With American and British scientists working together we entered the race of discovery against
the Germans.
The United States had available the large number of scientists of distinction in the many
needed areas of knowledge. It had the tremendous industrial and financial resources
necessary for the project and they could be devoted to it without undue impairment of other
vital war work. In the United States the laboratory work and the production plants, on which a
substantial start had already been made, would be out of reach of enemy bombing, while at
that time Britain was exposed to constant air attack and was still threatened with the
possibility of invasion. For these reasons Prime Minister Churchill and President Roosevelt
agreed that it was wise to carry on the project here. We now have two great plants and many
lesser works devoted to the production of atomic power. Employment during peak construction
numbered 125,000 and over 65,000 individuals are even now engaged in operating the plants.
Many have worked there for two and a half years. Few know what they have been producing.
They see great quantities of material going in and they see nothing coming out of these
plants, for the physical size of the explosive charge is exceedingly small. We have spent two
billion dollars on the greatest scientific gamble in history - we won.
But the greatest marvel is not the size of the enterprise, its secrecy, nor its cost, but the
achievement of scientific brains in putting together infinitely complex pieces of knowledge held
51
by many men in different fields of science into a workable plan. And hardly less marvelous has
been the capacity of industry to design, and of labor to operate, the machines and methods to
do things never done before so that the brain child of many minds came forth in physical
shape and performed as it was supposed to do. Both science and industry worked under the
direction of the United States Army, which achieved a unique success in managing so diverse
a problem in the advancement of knowledge in an amazingly short time. It is doubtful if such
another combination could be got together in the world. What has been done is the greatest
achievement of organized science in history. It was done under high pressure and without
failure.
We are now prepared to obliterate more rapidly and completely every productive enterprise
the Japanese have above ground in any city. We shall destroy their docks, their factories, and
their communications. Let there be no mistake; we shall completely destroy Japan's power to
make war.
It was to spare the Japanese people from utter destruction that the ultimatum of July 26 was
issued at Potsdam. Their leaders promptly rejected that ultimatum. If they do not now accept
our terms they may expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen
on this earth. Behind this air attack will follow sea and land forces in such numbers and power
as they have not yet seen and with the fighting skill of which they are already well aware.
The Secretary of War, who has kept in personal touch with all phases of this project, will
immediately make public a statement giving further details.
His statement will give facts concerning the sites of Oak Ridge near Knoxville, Tennessee, and
at Richland near Pasco, Washington, and an installation near Santa Fe, New Mexico. Although
the workers at the sites have been making materials to be used in producing the greatest
destructive force in history they have not themselves been in danger beyond that of many
other occupations, for the utmost care has been taken of their safety.
The fact that we can release atomic energy ushers in a new era in man's understanding of
nature's forces. Atomic energy may in the future supplement the power that now comes from
coal, oil, and falling water, but at present it cannot be produced on a basis to compete with
them commercially. Before that comes there must be a long period of intensive research.
It has never been the habit of the scientists of this country or the policy of the Government to
withhold from the world scientific knowledge. Normally, therefore, everything about the work
with atomic energy would be made public.
But under present circumstances it is not intended to divulge the technical processes of
production or all the military applications, pending further examination of possible methods of
protecting us and the rest of the world from the danger of sudden destruction. I shall
recommend that the Congress of the United States consider promptly the establishment of an
appropriate commission to control the production and use of atomic power within the United
States. I shall give further consideration and make further recommendations to the Congress
as to how atomic power can become a powerful and forceful influence towards the
maintenance of world peace.
52
KEY LITERARY ELEMENTS
SETTING
This book takes place almost exclusively in the Japanese city of Hiroshima.
Hiroshima was built on a delta, with several rivers running through the heart of the city.
During World War II, where the book begins, Hiroshima was a major industrial and
military center that had thus far been spared the devastating air attacks that other cities
had suffered. The book outlines the rebuilding of the city after it was leveled by the
atomic bomb.
By the story’s end, in the 1980s, Hiroshima returned to a bustling commercial and
industrial city, only now with a sprawling entertainment district and neon lights. The
transformation of the setting from a busy wartime city to a destroyed rubble and back to
an even greater metropolis is a key element of the book.
LIST OF CHARACTERS
Major Characters
Miss Toshiko Sasaki
Miss Sasaki is a personnel clerk at the East Asia Tin Works factory. She is in her early
twenties and lives with her parents and young sibling at the time of the blast. Her left leg
is severely injured when bookshelves fall on her from the impact of the bomb, and she is
left crippled. She has a strong spirit, however, and overcomes her hardships to become a
Catholic nun who is very active in helping orphaned children.
Dr. Masakazu Fujii
Dr. Fujii is a middle-aged physician who is comfortable financially since he owns his
own private hospital. Being fairly self-absorbed, he enjoys fine whiskey, relaxation, and
the company of foreigners. He is not completely unsympathetic to those around him, but
throughout the book is fairly focused on himself. His hospital is completely destroyed in
the blast and he is moderately injured, but he recovers both his health and fortune. He
lives comfortably as a doctor for many years after the bomb until he is tragically disabled
and by a freak gas leak.
Mrs. Hatsuyo Nakamura
Mrs. Nakamura is a tailor’s widow with three young children, whose husband has died in
the war. She struggles to make ends meet both before and after the atomic attack by using
her husband’s sewing machine to get tailoring work. She suffers mild radiation sickness
for most of her life, which makes it very difficult for her to support her children, but four
53
decades after the bomb was dropped, she is an active citizen whose children have grown
and found happiness.
Father Wilhelm Kleinsorge
Father Keliensorge is a thirty-eight year-old German missionary priest with the Society of
Jesus (Jesuits). He loves the Japanese people and is committed to his work in Hiroshima
but feels uncomfortable with the xenophobia of war-time Japan. He incurs only small
cuts in the blast, but suffers years later from debilitating effects of the radiation, and dies
in the 1970s with a loyal Japanese nurse by his side. Immediately after the bomb hits, he
focuses on helping the wounded. Over the years, he develops an even greater dedication
to the Japanese which leads him to seek citizenship and adopt the Japanese name of
Father Makoto Takakura.
Dr. Terufumi Sasaki
Dr. Sasaki is an idealistic, young surgeon working at the Hiroshima Red Cross Hospital.
(No relation to Ms. Sasaki, above). He is the only uninjured doctor from the bomb, and in
the chaotic aftermath, he treats thousands of victims from all over the city for three days
straight with no sleep. After 5 years of continuing to treat bomb victims at the Red Cross
Hospital, he escapes from the memories of the attack by starting his own private clinic
outside of Hiroshima. He prospers greatly and tries to forget that he is a hibakusha, or
bomb victim.
Rev. Kiyoshi Tanimoto
Rev. Tanimoto is a hard-working and thoughtful pastor. He is largely unhurt by the blast,
and spends the first several days after the attack compassionately caring for the wounded
and destitute of the city. He studied theology in Atlanta and corresponded with American
friends until the war broke out, and after the war ends he returns to the U.S. several times
to raise money for various Hiroshima peace causes. He becomes out of touch with the
feelings of most Hiroshima citizens, however, and is criticized for his work.
Minor Characters
The Dead and Dying Masses
Final estimates say that 100,000 died in the atomic bomb blast in Hiroshima. Many died
instantly but thousands and thousands suffered for several hours to a few days before
succumbing to extreme radiation and/or graphic wounds. Hersey depicts these suffering
masses from the eyes of his six main characters. He emphasizes how most survivors were
unwilling to help those around them due to the sheer volume of need. Of the six main
characters, Father Kleinsorge, Dr. Sasaki and Reverend Tanimoto actively assist the
dying, but even they are frequently overwhelmed by the magnitude of the suffering.
Mr. Fukai
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Mr. Fukai is secretary of the Catholic diocese. After he sees the fires resulting from the
bomb, he refuses to escape with Father Kliensorge and the others. Father Kleinsorge is
forced to carry him on his back for many blocks, until Mr. Fukai escapes and runs back
toward the fires. The group never sees him again and assumes he immolated himself in
the flames.
Mrs. Nakamura’s Children
Toshio, a ten year-old boy, Yaeko, an eight year-old girl, and Myeko, a five year-old girl.
They suffer radiation sickness for some months but overcome their trauma to live
productive lives.
Other Jesuit Priests
Together with Father Kleinsorge, they try to care for the wounded and orphaned of
Hiroshima.
Satsue Yoshiki
Father Kleinsorge’s nurse, cook and constant companion in his weakening and dying
days. They develop a close and loyal relationship.
Norman Cousins
An American editor who helps Reverend Tanimoto raise money for peace and other
causes realated to the Hiroshima atomic attack.
CONFLICT
Protagonist
All six main characters together represent the protagonist of the book, as they struggle to
survive after the atomic bomb is dropped on their city. All six are devastated to varying
degrees by damage done to their bodies, family members killed, property destroyed, and
shock to their emotions. Together with all the survivors of Hiroshima, the protagonists
continue for the rest of their lives to struggle against the antagonist of the book, which is
the bomb and its aftereffects.
Antagonist
The antagonist is the atomic bomb itself, which causes so much destruction, pain, and
loss for the main characters as well as the entire city of Hiroshima. Although it is the
American leadership that decides to drop the bomb, the main characters and most in the
city accept that their suffering is an unfortunate consequence of war, and the fate they
must endure. The author adds no judgment of his own to the characters’ interpretation of
events, and therefore, the U.S. is not represented as the antagonist of the book.
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Climax
The climax of the book is reached a few days after the bomb has hit, when the main
characters are still in crisis as to whether they will live or die. Yet as the book is a factual
account of a disaster and how people survived it, it could be argued that most of the book
is in fact the climax. Only the first chapter, when the main characters’ everyday lives are
described, and the last chapter, when years have passed since the bomb, are not part of
this extended climax.
Outcome
There are six outcomes to the book, one for each of the main characters. Some are tragic;
others are inspirational. All point to the enormous impact that the atomic bomb exposure
had on their family lives, careers, and outlook on life. Rev. Tanimoto slips into a
mundane existence, Dr. Fujii dies from gas poisoning and his family is split over his
estate, Miss Sasaki becomes an active and courageous nun, Father Kleinsorge succumbs
to radiation-induced illnesses after a lifetime of service to the Japanese people, Dr. Sasaki
distances himself from his Hiroshima experience and prospers as a doctor, and Mrs.
Nakamura raises her children to be happy adults and perseveres despite her own malaise.
SHORT PLOT / CHAPTER SUMMARY (SYNOPSIS)
The book begins with descriptions of what each of the six main characters was doing the
morning that the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, up to the moment of the blast
and immediately after. Miss Toshiko Sasaki, a personnel clerk at the East Asia Tin Works
factory, had sat down to rest from her office work and turned to chat with her co-worker.
The impact of the blast caused the bookcases behind her to fall and crush her leg, and she
lost consciousness. Dr. Masakazu Fujii, a middle-aged physician, was relaxing on the
river-side porch of his clinic. The bomb’s blast threw him into the river, and the remains
of his clinic followed him. He was trapped by two long pieces of wood across his chest,
but his head was above water. Mrs. Hatsuyo Nakamura, a tailor’s widow with three
young children, was watching her next-door neighbor tear his house down to make way
for a fire escape route.
When the atomic flash hit, she was thrown and covered by debris. After freeing herself,
she dug out her children who were unhurt. Father Wilhelm Kleinsorge, a thirty-eight
year-old missionary priest, was reading in his underwear in his room. When he saw the
flash, he panicked, and somehow ended up in the vegetable garden, pacing aimlessly and
bleeding from small cuts. Dr. Terufumi Sasaki was an idealistic, young surgeon working
at the Hiroshima Red Cross Hospital. He was bringing a blood specimen to the laboratory
as the bomb flashed. Because he had moved one step beyond the window and had bent
down at impact, he was unhurt. In the chaotic aftermath, he began to treat the wounded as
the only uninjured doctor at the hospital. Reverend Kiyoshi Tanimoto was a hardworking and thoughtful pastor who was helping his friend move furniture out of the city
that morning. The bomb hit when he and his friend arrived at their destination. Pieces of
the collapsed house fell on him, but he was largely unhurt.
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In the second chapter, each character moves from the initial impression that the damage
of the bomb is localized to the realization that the entire city has been affected. Rev.
Tanimoto immediately rushed toward the center of town, panicked with thoughts of his
wife, baby, and parishioners. Everywhere, people were trapped under buildings that were
on fire but no one stopped to help, as they were overwhelmed by the magnitude of need.
Finding his wife and baby safe, he spent the rest of the day assisting the wounded in
Asano Park.
Near the end of the day, Mr. Tanimoto encountered a neighbor woman who would not let
go of her dead infant, hoping that her husband would find them and be able to see the
little girl once more. Mrs. Nakamura fled with her children to Asano Park, the designated
evacuation area for her community. Though they had no visible injuries, they soon
became nauseated and vomited the entire day. Father Kleinsorge was surprised that in his
room, some seemingly sturdy things were blown out of place and crushed, but vulnerable
things such as a papier-mâché suitcase was in tact.
Father Kleinsorge helped the shell-shocked and reluctant Mr. Fukai, who was secretary of
the Catholic diocese, to evacuate, by carrying him on his back for many blocks. Mr.
Fukai escaped, however, and ran back toward the fire.
When Father Kleinsorge arrived at Asano Park with the other Catholics, he began giving
water to the wounded and working with Rev. Tanimoto to assist people. After freeing two
of his nurses from the rubble, Dr. Fujii waded back into the river to avoid the spreading
fire, and moved to a sandpit near Asano Park. He was curious about the serious burns he
saw on some victims, and surprised by the sheer number of dead and dying in the city.
Dr. Sasaki, though not wounded, faced the daunting task of treating over 10,000 maimed
and hurt from all over the city as one of six functioning doctors remaining in the Red
Cross Hospital. As he slowly realized the extent of the human suffering in the city, he
became a robot, treating people mindlessly for hours and hours.
When Miss Sasaki was finally dug out from under the rubble, someone carried her to a
courtyard where he set up a rustic shelter for her and two other grossly maimed victims.
She was forgotten there for the rest of the day.
The third chapter covers the time from early evening on the day the bomb exploded to
nine days later on August 15, 1945, when the Japanese Emperor announced on the radio
Japan’s surrender to the U.S. In these few days, the survivors in Hiroshima, along with
Japanese scientists and government leaders, discovered that the bomb was a new type of
weapon that split atoms. The authorities were cautious and vague in reporting details,
however, and few in the city understood what little they were told.
Father Kleinsorge continued to nurse the wounded in Asano Park until the next day,
when he was evacuated to the Catholic Novitiate outside the city. He took with him two
children by the surname Kataoka who had been separated from their mother. After
several days of asking around, he was finally able to reunite them with their mother. Mr.
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Tanimoto remained in Asano Park for five days, assisting the wounded. He was hounded
by the woman who refused to cremate her dead baby until her husband could see it; she
begged him to search for her husband but Mr. Tanimoto knew it would be impossible to
find him. After he finally left the park, he was asked to come pray for a dying man who
had been opposed to Mr. Tanimoto and his Christian teachings. Now, weak and humbled,
he wanted comfort from religion. The man died as Mr. Tanimoto read a psalm.
At his family’s roofless house, Dr. Fujii examined himself to discover several fractured
bones and cuts. He eventually moved to a friend’s summer home to recuperate, where he
drank whiskey and discussed the possible nature of the bomb with a priest from the
Novitiate who visited him. Dr. Sasaki was forced to work for three days with just one
hour of sleep. Hundreds at a time died, but no one had the time to carry away the bodies.
When he was finally permitted to return home, he slept for 17 hours straight before
resuming his duties.
Miss Sasaki was left for two days and two nights under the makeshift awning without
food or water. Finally, she was transported to a military hospital on a nearby island but
moved again to a different hospital after a few days. When a fracture specialist finally
examined her putrid leg, he decided he could not set the breaks so merely drained the
puss. Mrs. Nakamura and her children were evacuated to the Jesuit Novitiate after
spending the night in Asano Park. They had little appetite and vomited often. After
moving in with her sister-in-law in a nearby town, Mrs. Nakamura traveled into the city
to check on her relatives, and found them all dead. She was quite affected by this
discovery and the damage she had seen and was speechless that evening. On August 15,
Mrs. Nakamura heard from her sister that the Emperor had spoken on the radio and
announced Japan’s surrender.
The third chapter discusses the main characters’ fates from 12 days after the bomb fell to
a full year later. Most of them suffered some degree of radiation sickness in the months
following their atomic exposure, including nausea, fever, blood disorders, and a falling
white blood count. Japanese scientists were able to understand much of the atomic
bomb’s function and effects by studying the ruins; yet the Americans remained extremely
guarded with their supposed atomic secrets.
Father Kleinsorge had perhaps the worst sickness of the six main characters. He was
hospitalized in Tokyo for over three months, suffering high fevers, a low white blood cell
count, and anemia. When he returned to Hiroshima, his doctors had ordered him to nap
for two hours each day, but he found that difficult with so much pressing work. By
August he was forced to return to the hospital for a month’s recuperation.
Mrs. Nakamura, living in Kabe with her sister-in-law, lost all of her hair within a few
weeks of the bombing and was bedridden with nausea along with her younger daughter.
Curiously, her older daughter and son felt fine. Feeling better simply by resting, she soon
heard about rustic shacks being rented in Hiroshima and moved there with the cash from
her war-time bonds and savings. Her money was gone by the following summer,
however, and she was destitute.
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Mr. Tanimoto, too, became mysteriously sick a few weeks after the bomb fell. He rested
for a total of two months, trying to eat as much as possible and also using herbs to control
his high fever. A year after the bombing, Mr. Tanimoto felt pride in how he and his
community had weathered the disaster, and described in a letter how several people he
knew, when faced with certain death, chose to die for the Emperor.
Miss Sasaki continued to be moved from crowded hospital to crowded hospital, until she
landed at the Red Cross Hospital back in Hiroshima. Shocked to witness the city’s
devastation for the first time, she felt strange to see fresh vegetation covering burned out
buildings and trees. The bomb had stimulated the underground organs of greenery, and
the city was indeed covered in new plants, among them panic grass and feverfew. Miss
Sasaki’s spirits fell and she wondered about her fiancée who neglected to come and see
her. After several visits from Father Kleinsorge, Miss Sasaki decided to convert to
Catholicism. Dr. Sasaki was overworked, sleeping only six hours per night at the
hospital, and had lost twenty pounds from his small frame.
Medical equipment remained inadequate for six months, consisting entirely of small
donations from other cities. After several months, he finally regained some semblance of
normal life, even marrying in the spring. Dr. Fujii went to live in the summer house of a
friend, but a flood destroyed the house and he was forced to flee. He soon heard of a
clinic for sale in a suburb of Hiroshima, and rebuilt a successful practice.
SHORT PLOT / CHAPTER SUMMARY (SYNOPSIS)
(continued)
The final chapter narrates the six main characters’ lives as "hibakusha," or atom bomb
victims, from one year after the bomb to forty years after the bomb. It also includes side
narrations of how the larger Hiroshima community rebuilt itself and how it responded
over time to being the first city to be attacked with a nuclear weapon.
Mrs. Nakamura continued to suffer from a common version of long-term A-bomb
sickness, involving weakness, exhaustion, problem digestion, and a feeling of doom. For
this reason, she was never able to work for more than two or three days without requiring
rest, and struggled at odd jobs to support her children. After a few years, she found good
work at a factory and was pleased that her children were developing normally, spared
from common complications of bomb victims. Her core of cheerfulness sustained her and
won her friends, and she gradually moved on from the trauma of the bombing. At age 55,
Mrs. Nakamura retired from her factory job and gradually her life got easier. She was
supported by her grown son, a pension from the factory, a war widow’s pension, and a
living allowance for Hiroshima survivors that increased over the years. She spent time
embroidering gifts and dancing in groups to Japanese folk music.
Dr. Sasaki spent the rest of his years trying to create distance from his horrible memories
of the first few days after the bombing. He opened a private clinic in his father’s town,
outside Hiroshima, where he faced few hibakusha patients. His practice grew through his
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hard work and ambition. When he traveled to Yokohama for training, he finally came
face to face with his own vulnerabilities as an A-bomb survivor. Discovering a shadow in
his left lung, doctors ended up removing the whole lung in surgery. Due to complications,
Dr. Sasaki almost died. This experience changed his outlook on life and he resolved to
treat his patients more compassionately and to spend more time with his wife and four
children. Four decades after the bomb, Dr. Sasaki no longer feared Hiroshima. Only one
in ten citizens was a hibakusha, and the city was swathed in neon lights. Dr. Sasaki’s only
regret was that he had not been able to more carefully record the identities of all the Red
Cross Hospital corpses so that they would not be wandering in the afterlife, upset at not
being properly remembered.
Due to the combination of his radiation exposure and his tireless work ethic on behalf of
others, Father Kleinsorge faced a difficult life of repeated hospital stays. Yet he refused
to slow down except when his body would collapse. Father Kleinsorge was so committed
to the Japanese people that after a few years he applied for Japanese citizenship, adopting
the name Father Makoto Takakura.
After suffering various ailments in the 1950s, he was finally transferred to a small church
in Mukaihara, the same town as Dr. Sasaki. A few years later he hired a new cook,
Yoshiki-san, who finally became his nurse, housekeeper, and constant companion. Father
Takakura’s health steadily declined, and numerous visitors came to thank him for his
impact upon their life. In 1976, he fell on some ice and became bed-ridden. Yoshiki-san
lovingly and loyally cared for him around the clock. The next year he fell into a coma and
died, with Yoshiki-san by his side.
Miss Sasaki slowly raised her spirits by the first anniversary of the bombing, even as her
fiancée rejected their engagement due to pressure from his family not to marry a
hibakusha and cripple. She soon found work at an orphanage, and discovered her calling
to care for young children. She transferred to another orphanage where she received
formal childcare training and a university education. Miss Sasaki also underwent
orthopedic surgeries and was finally able to walk fairly normally, albeit with continued
pain. In the mid-1950s, by Father Kleinsorge’s suggestion, she decided to become a nun,
and discovered strength within herself that she believed came from having survived the
A-bomb. She became Sister Dominique Sasaki, and because of her tenacity and talents
she was put in charge of an old people’s home housing 70. From her experience in
Hiroshima, she wanted the dying not to feel lonely in their time of departure. Over the
years Sister Sasaki was honored for her work in the nuns’ order and she always strove to
look to the future, not to the past.
Three years after the bomb, Dr. Fujii built another clinic on the site of his destroyed one.
He was spared all radiation sickness and complications, and enjoyed a life of leisure,
visiting the gaudy, neon entertainment district often, earning a reputation as a playboy. In
1956, he traveled to New York with the so- called Hiroshima Maidens - young girls with
facial burns from the bomb who had been chosen to receive free surgery in the U.S. - and
enjoyed acting as interpreter and unofficial chaperone. By the early 1960s, however, it
was apparent to his family that his happy-go-lucky spirit had turned to melancholy. His
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relationship with his wife was strained, over a new American-style house he insisted on
building, among other things. Over New Years eve, Dr. Fujii slept alone for the first time
in his new house, and the next morning his family discovered him unconscious, poisoned
by a gas leak from a stove. He remained in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.
One year after the bomb, Rev. Tanimoto preached the Christian message to people who
gathered at the nightly black market. But since he had no congregation to bring them into,
he refocused his efforts into restoring his old church building and embarked on a
speaking tour in the United States to raise support. On this trip, Rev. Tanimoto devised
the idea of making Hiroshima a center for studying peace, and began submitting his
proposal to magazines and influential people in the U.S. - all without the knowledge or
consent of anyone else in Hiroshima. Meanwhile, Rev. Tanimoto was unaware that back
in Hiroshima, the government had designated the city as a Peace Memorial City and
unveiled a park to commemorate it.
His chief U.S. promoter was Norman Cousins, an editor who enthusiastically backed
Rev. Tanimoto’s idea at first, but then pushed it aside in favor of his own plans. Yet
Cousins continued to arrange for Rev. Tanimoto’s fundraising tours, now for a whole
host of causes. When Rev. Tanimoto finally discussed his ideas with Hiroshima’s mayor
and the prefectural governor, they rejected them. Back in Japan, one of Rev. Tanimoto’s
major projects was teaching Bible studies and finding vocational opportunities for the
city’s young women with horrible keloid scars on their faces. He lobbied for plastic
surgery for them, and finally was able to arrange for a few to be done in Tokyo. Later, he
accompanied twenty-five girls to the U.S. for surgery by doctors who were donating their
services.
Once in the U.S., Rev. Tanimoto was featured on the television show, "This is Your
Life," thinking it was a standard interview. The totally unprepared Rev. Tanimoto was
confronted by various people from his past, and most unnerving, Captain Robert Lewis,
copilot of the Enola Gay, which dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. After several
years of working for peace, Rev. Tanimoto found himself out of the main stream of
Hiroshima peace activities, overly controlled by Norman Cousins, and rejected by many
of the people he had tried to help. Yet he maintained a compassionate heart, adopting an
abandoned baby with his wife. As Rev. Tanimoto reached the age of seventy, he slowed
down in his activities and fell into a mundane lifestyle.
THEMES
Major Themes
Theme of Survival
One major theme of this book is survival, both of individuals and of the community. The
book describes how people react in crises and what this show of their moral character.
How each person chooses to rebuild their lives and also how the city of Hiroshima
rebuilds itself after the disaster reveals the priorities of each person and the city as a
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whole. Part of the theme of survival is the portrayal of the human spirit and the will to
keep on living even in the face of so much death and destruction. Survival is also
demonstrated in how life slowly returns to normalcy for most, even after they live
through severe trauma.
Theme of the Effect of War on Civilians
Written one year after the first atomic bombs were dropped on civilians (or any human
beings, for that matter), the effect of total war on regular populations is a major theme of
the book. Total war means no one is left untouched. This is emphasized in that even
though the atomic bomb was dropped to fight the Japanese, even non-Japanese (the
German Jesuits) were affected by it. Family homes and businesses are summarily
destroyed. Normal civilian life is completely altered and those who escape death must
undergo great challenges just to survive. Moreover, the effect of war on civilians involves
constant and fearful anticipation of the attack to come, as seen in the first chapter of the
book. People cannot live peaceful or normal lives as they are forced to be in a constant
state of alert for air raids.
Minor Theme
Theme of Life’s Frailty and Unpredictability
After the atomic bomb kills 100,000 in Hiroshima, the six main characters of the book
wonder why they survived while so many others perished. They reflect that it was small,
unconscious, and seemingly coincidental actions that spared their lives at the moment of
impact. This is the minor theme of how chance can be a powerful force in life. The theme
is also reflected in how many of the characters view the rest of their lives. They see their
suffering and hardships from the bomb’s destruction as unavoidable, nobody’s fault, and
their fate. They do not have a sense of entitlement nor do they blame others for their
problems. The theme of life’s unpredictability is also reflected in how most of the main
characters continue to suffer misfortune, difficulties, and death even after surviving the
bomb.
MOOD
The mood of the book is very shocking and troubling. It is a literal and uncensored
account of the impact of the first atomic bomb to be dropped on human beings. The
graphic details of human suffering and the physical effects of radiation and burns are
deeply disturbing to the reader. Despite the gruesome details, however, the mood is rather
unemotional, since the book is an objective and journalistic retelling of six survivors’
stories. The characters all exhibit the classic Japanese stoicism, further adding to the
mood of stolid endurance and survival. The final outcome is varied according to each
character’s fate. Some outcomes are uplifting, inspirational, and hopeful as the character
overcomes extreme trauma to carve out a meaningful life. Other outcomes are
disappointing as the character fails to live up to his or her full potential. These latter
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outcomes match the dark mood characterizing most of the book, as it describes the
bomb’s effects.
QUESTIONS
Study Questions
1. What aspects of the book make it clearly a non-fictional account under the genre of
investigative reporting?
2. The book is marked by realism and the experiences and feelings of individuals.
Discuss.
3. Discuss the significance of the "Aftermath" chapter in relation to the whole text.
4. What realities of modern warfare does Hersey’s account highlight?
5. Wartime Japanese were willing to sacrifice and even die for their Emperor. Discuss
and give examples from the book.
6. How did the way plant life was affected by the bomb eerily contrast to the way humans
were affected? Describe.
7. How is "Hiroshima" essentially a tale of survival?
8. Why do you think this book has remained popular for over 50 years after it was first
written?
ESSAY TOPICS
9. Discuss the fear of attack that the citizens of Hiroshima were feeling before the bomb
was dropped. Contrast this to the actual power of the atom bomb and discuss whether
those fears were warranted.
10. Choose at least two main characters and describe how their priorities, choices, and
reactions after the bomb matched those of their everyday lives prior to the bomb, for
better or worse.
11. How were the bomb survivors treated in Japanese society? Contrast this to the posthumus treatment of those who died in the blast.
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SELECTED ANSWERS
1. The book is based on interviews of six survivors, with no moral conclusions drawn.
The survivors’ stories are allowed to speak for themselves. The book is not a call to
action but an objective reporting of the facts. The author is unemotional even in his
telling of a horrific incident. He relates the information in a straight-forward way.
4. Hersey highlights the idea that war involves more than battle plans and armies. In
"Hiroshima," thousands of civilians are killed with a single weapon, and an entire city is
destroyed. Hersey also brings up the issue of the use of nuclear weapons in war.
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