I Squat Down on the Spot Where We Cremated Our Mother and Touch The Earth With My Finger

When the Atomic Bomb was dropped, I was in the air raid shelter which was dug out into a cliff at the corner of the playground of Yamazato Primary School and was not hurt. But it seemed at first only three people were left alive—my grandmother, Naoshi Tagawa (a friend of mine), and myself. Everyone else seemed dead.

When the air-raid alarm was sounded, the elders and children in Ueno-machi (where we lived) all took refuge in the shelter as usual. In the school building were the headquarters of the civilian guard and the rescue station, so there were civilian guards, doctors and many other people inside. Also many teachers were at work.

Since no planes flew overhead, the all-clear was sounded. Everyone left the shelter. Here and there many children were playing and shouting all over the playground.

Grownups and teachers came out to relax. The playground was lively with the sounds of many people. Then I heard the buzzing of a plane. The others were talking so loudly that they seemed not to notice it.

I grabbed my grandmother by the hand and ran towards the shelter.

"Enemy plane", yelled the watchman on the roof of the school building as he struck the bell. "Look out!" People on the playground came running straight for the shelter. I was the first to plunge into the deepest part of the shelter. But that moment... ...FLASH...

I was blown against the wall by the force of the explosion. After a while when I peered from out of the shelter, I found people scattered all over the playground. The ground was covered almost entirely with bodies. Most of them looked dead and lay still.

Here and there, however, some were thrashing their legs or raising their arms. Those who were able to move came crawling into the shelter. Soon the shelter was crowded with the wounded. Around the school all the town was on fire. My house was also burning fiercely.

My brother and sisters were late in coming to the shelter, so they were burnt and crying. Taking out a rosary, my grandmother began to pray. I was waiting for my parents, sitting at the entrance of the bomb-shelter.

Half an hour later, my mother appeared at last. She was covered with blood. She had been preparing lunch at home when the bomb was dropped. I will never forget how happy I was as I clung to my mother. We waited and waited for Father, but he never appeared. He had left our house in the morning as a member of the civilian guard. Even those who had survived died in agony one after another. My younger sisters died the next day.

My mother — she also died the next day. And then my older brother died. I thought I would die too, because the people around me lying beside each other in the shelter were dying one by one.

Yet because my grandmother and I had been in the deepest part of the shelter, we apparently had not been exposed to the radiation and in the end we were saved.

From that day on, Grandmother and I began inspecting the faces of the corpses, looking for my father. We had no clue as to whether Father was still alive or burnt to death, and he was no where to be found.

The survivors piled up wood on the playground and began to cremate the corpses. My brother was burned. Mother was also burned and quickly turned to white bones which dropped down through the live coals. I cried as I gazed upon the scene. Grandmother was also watching it, praying with a rosary.

Grandmother says that we will meet Mother in heaven. As she is old, she may go to heaven before long, but I am still a child, and may not see my sweet-hearted mother for many years. I cannot play with my elder brother or talk to my dear sisters.

I am now in the fourth grade at Yamazato Primary School. That playground of terrible memories is now completely cleared and many of my friends are playing there happily. They are quite ignorant of the fact that so many children were killed and cremated in the very place.

Even I play with my friends on that playground, but I sometimes unexpectedly remember that awful day. When I do, I squat down on the spot where we cremated our mother and touch the earth with my fingers. When I dig deep in the ground with a piece of bamboo, several pieces of charcoal appear. Looking at the spot for a while I can dimly see my mother's image in the earth. So when I see someone else treading upon that spot, it makes me very angry. Whenever I go out into the playground, I remember that day. The playground is dear to me but at the same time I am very sad there.

I will come to this school another four or five years. I wonder if I will feel this as long as I attend this school.

With my grandmother, I buried the bones of my mother, brother and sisters after their funeral. On the grave we erected a cross for Father, but there are no bones underneath. Father, Father, where are your bones? Where do you lie? Father, you went out cheerfully that morning, and that was the last we saw you.

Now I live with my grandmother in the barracks built in the ruins. Although she is an old woman of over sixty, she must work for a living. She goes to the lower reaches of the Urakami River to hunt for clams, and comes home in the evening drenched to the bone. We get along by selling the clams.

We used to have our own shop, and sold soy sauce, salt, miso (bean paste), candy and toys. My father was a skilled well-driller and made a lot of money. We used to wear nice clothes.

Let me go back to the past once more. Oh, I want my mother, I want my father, I want my brother, I want my sisters. If only they were alive! We could live in a house that doesn't leak. And Grandmother would not have to work so hard. I could study as much as I liked. I wouldn't have to lose any fights.

Grandma goes to church every morning to take part in Mass. She often prays with a rosary, and says to me, "Everything is in His will. Every thing will be all right."

I wish I had as pure a heart as Grandma.

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