No More Hiroshima, Part 2 of 3

The remaining dome tower
and river where victims soothed their burns.

Sometimes stories can take years to unfold and be heard fully.

This story from Yukoh Tamagawa happened more than seventy years ago when the Atomic Bomb dropped on Hiroshima.  

I was honored to be in his presence and hear it directly.  It changed me - and for the better.  Now I’ll try to pass it on to you.

We’re gathering at the Rissho Kosei-Kai's Hiroshima Dharma Center. It’s a place where a form of Buddhism known as engaged Buddhism is promoted through study, meditation and social justice work.

All Souls, Unitarian has developed friendships here with deep roots.

It began shortly after the city was destroyed by the Atomic Bomb.  Hearing of need in a elementary school only a few blocks from ground zero, the Church’s children gather a half ton of school and art supplies and sent them as a gesture of goodwill. 

A child's picture from happier times.

In return, the surviving children of Honkawa Elementary School sent paintings of happier times – a generous thank you.

Take time to learn more about this amazing story - Picturesfrom a Hiroshima Schoolyard. 

It’s free for Amazon Prime and only two bucks for others. Well worth viewing.

Our small group with Yukoh Tamagawa and interpreter.

Today we’re in small groups and joining with Hibakusha (被爆者). This is a unique Japanese word that literally means “explosion-affected people.” 

At the time, I didn’t know it, but for some of the Hibakusha it was the first time they had the courage to speak of those horrible days. They were only children then….

Yukoh Tamagawa was thirteen. On that Monday morning in August 1945, 319 of his 340 classmates were pulverized or died within days of the Atomic Bomb dropping. 

He survived because the streetcar that he was waiting for had been delayed by air raid sirens. So he was still in the outskirts about 2 kilometers from ground zero.

Yukoh shares his story

“Suddenly I felt a bluish flash of light that was like a spark caused by a short-circuit,” he shares.

“And then I lost consciousness. When I came to, it was pitch dark because of thick clouds of dust which had been raised from the destroyed buildings and which shut out the sunlight completely.”

He tells us, “I was blown 20 – 30 meters away from where I had been standing....I became aware that I was bumped on the back of my head. The right side of my face and the back of my hands had been burned and were blistering.”

Diorama of the destruction
from mountain ridge to mountain ridge rubble 

He stumbled around as the landscape gradually became visible. Familiar homes and shops were gone. They no longer existed.

He saw a man half trapped under a collapsed house. “He was floundering around and crying for help. I was quite at a loss as to what to do.” Yukoh tells us that he just ran away.

A shadow from an A-Bomb victim
burnt into granite

But so many other people were burned beyond recognition. He could barely look at them – so horrible the appearance.

“The sight of a soldier gave me the most intense shock,” he recounts. “He was badly burned all over with his skin in tatters... crying out groans of pain.”

About 12 hours later and after witnessing many gruesome sights, the thirteen year old boy found his way home. But at first his mother did not recognize him because of his burnt flesh. And now he was developing a high fever.

For days he struggled to survive and then….

A Korean came to his aid with a folk remedy. Daily for three weeks the Korean brought a liter of cow’s blood from his workplace, a butchery. And everyday as the blood separated in the bottle, the young boy drank the thick liquid composed of plasma and white blood cells from the top. This high quality protein gave him strength and sustained his life.

This kindness is remarkable because of the harsh enmity existing between Japanese and Koreans. They were enemies. Many Japanese considered Koreans to be inferiors, less than human. Like slaves, Koreans were taken from home and forced into labor. And yet, a Korean helped Yukoh Tamagawa.

“I am very ashamed of having despised Koreans whose fellow countryman showed great kindness,” recounts Yukoh. “In spite of unfair treatment of Korean people, he transcended the boundaries of nationality and gave his warmhearted help bringing the best medicine available to me day after day for three weeks.”

This story resonates in our own world of boundaries, hatreds and fears based on racial and religious prejudice. I’m thinking...what might we do to heal our own wounds and sustain human life?

Yukoh tells us about the occupation of Americans that followed the Atomic Bomb.

“My ill feelings for Americans was deeply rooted due to the inhuman act of dropping the Atomic Bomb. I thought that in general the Americans were frightful and brutal. So I hated them.”

Then in 1958, he had an accident. A US Forces tank truck collided with the jeep he was driving. He suffered compound fractures of the thigh.

Feeling responsible, the Americans wanted to evacuate him to Okinawa, an occupied territory at the time.  But Japanese authorities objected vigorously because no one was allowed to go there without a passport.

Yet the Americans took emergency action and transported Yukoh to an Okinawa hospital by helicopter.

“I was in the hospital for forty-five days and had operation for compound fracture as well,” tells Yukoh…. “When I was given a blood transfusion at the time of the operation, a dozen American soldiers volunteered their blood to me.

“Although I used to see Americans as horrible and hateful people, I have come to look at them in a new light since they saved me transcending nations and boundaries.”

Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.

There’s the Peace Memorial Park in Hiroshima. It radiates from the epicenter of the Atomic Bomb's dropping. We pilgrims wander its grounds on a beautiful Fall day. We pause in prayer at memorials and show our respect with the laying of flowers. 

The Korean Memorial now has a special meaning to me.  Their story is often unknown, but remarkable none-the-less.

Inscription at the Korean Memorial

About 70,000 - both civilians and military-succumbed that day or within a few weeks.

Mass grave 

I pause at a mass grave where unrecognizable bone fragments and ashes are interned. 

A chill runs through me as I ponder them and another 70,000 victims who were dead before the end of the year.

I see children playing on a nearby school yard and think of Yuhoh’s 319 school mates who perished in an instant. I think of how many stories those lives would have had and now they’ll never get told.

There’s a clear message here. No More Hiroshima.

In writing this blog I consulted notes from our meeting, an autobiographical pamphlet of Yukoh Tamagawa’s experience and the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum’s web site.

As my pilgrimage continued through the research and writing, I came across a painting by Kichisuke Yoshimura, an 18 years old at the time of the Atomic Bombing. I wanted to include his eye wittiness work.

But according to Museum rules direct copying is prohibited. So instead I offer this link  Kichiske Yoshmura Painting 

And I give my own impression inspired by his work. For me making it was like etching the message into my consciousness.  

No more Hiroshima. 

Please, no more Hiroshima.