Hiroshima Mon Amour*

8 April 2010
“I saw, or rather felt, an enormous bluish white flash of light, as when a photographer lights a dish of magnesium. Off to my right, the sky split open over the city of Hiroshima”
From “Letters From The End Of The World”
On 6 August 1945 the population of Hiroshima saw “the sun fall to earth” when the first atomic bomb used in aggression exploded 600m above the city unleashing the equivalent destructive power of 15,000 tonnes of chemical explosive. In that one second the heat reached 3000 – 4000 degrees centigrade and all that remained of some victims was their shadows imprinted on the rubble. Immediately some 70,000 buildings and 80,000 people were destroyed. The final death toll is unknown; the Hiroshima Peace Memorial offers the figure as “140,000 plus or minus 10,000”.
Today we went to Hiroshima along with many others from all over the world to pay our respects at the Peace Park and see at first hand the stupidity of human beings in developing and using such weapons of devastation. We are not ashamed to say that we wept and as I type this now my eyes are, once again filled with tears. These are exactly the same emotions we felt when we went to the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC some years ago – man’s inhumanity to his fellow man can be unbelievable. It is heart-rending.
We began our visit beside the twisted shell of the “A Bomb Dome” which had been the “industrial Promotions Hall” and was almost at the hypocentre of the explosion and was one of the few buildings in the surrounding 3km diameter that remained standing. Since then it has been preserved in its distressed state as a historical witness to the suffering and packed a very powerful punch as we emerged from the big, bold, bright, modern city of rebuilt Hiroshima. Like us, people stood about in silence, remembering and paying their respects in our own personal way. The place could quite easily be one of hatred and revenge but instead there is a real atmosphere of peace, hope and reconciliation amid the tears.

There is also the Memorial Cenotaph with the Flame of Peace that will not be put out until the last nuclear weapon on earth has been destroyed. The Peace Memorial is a quiet place entered by a ramp the slowly spirals down to an underground chamber where all the names, and many of the photographs, of all the known direct and indirect victims of the A bomb are displayed.
One of the most moving monuments is the Children’s Peace Monument which has the statue of a young girl standing on top holding aloft a giant origami crane – the symbol of health and longevity and now a symbol of the hope for peace in the world. The monument is festooned with garlands of multicoloured origami paper cranes made by people from all over the world. This tradition started with radiation victim Sadako Sasaki who when she became ill believed the old Japanese adage that folding a thousand paper cranes would make a wish come true. She tried steadfastly to recover from her illness and folded more and more paper cranes. Her hope was in vain and she never made the thousand cranes before she died in 1955. Her class mates continued after her death and went on to build this monument.

The Peace Memorial museum presents a very balanced picture of why the atrocity took place, as well as the harrowing effects and certainly does not portray Japan as an innocent victim but acknowledges that they pursued a military road perpetrated many acts of aggression but no one can leave that place without thinking the use of such a terrible weapon can ever be justified. There is lots of strong stuff which shirks none of the horrors of the bomb’s aftermath, including how, after the war the victims were not allowed to relate what had happened and how the Hiroshima Peace Movement was suppressed.
Amongst all the displays was one that was a real eye-opener and something we had never been aware of before and that is Winston Churchill, (who, as anyone will know who has read his letters and memoirs was a supreme warmonger) not only knew of the plan to drop the A bomb on Japan, but approved of it, provided British equipment to facilitate it and was opposed to the views of scientists who had developed the bomb that the Japanese should be told well in advance of the devastating effects upon them if the bomb was used.
Outside the sun was shining brilliantly and it was a clear, warm day (just like 6 August 1945) but we were too exhausted to go on to see the Art Museums.