Bumpy Roads

Masaki shook his head and looked around at the exhibits: a broken watch marking the time of the bomb, burned clothing, empty shoes and many heartbreaking pictures of the destruction. After the bomb it must have been a haunting sight—the empty streets with only the burnt out shells of some buildings remaining; a contaminated city, its infrastructure in disarray and its water supply dysfunctional. Near the epicentre death would have come quickly as people were incinerated by the bomb’s explosion. Others close by were so badly burned that they crawled to the river to join the floating dead. Evacuating survivors were a procession of walking wounded as they left behind a ghost town and memories of happier times. Many were badly burned from head to foot and would die sometime later from infested wounds. Some had skin peeling from their heads, and were near naked as their clothes had been burned off their bodies. How could Penny be so heartless? This was tragic and very sad. “Well, a second bomb was unnecessary,” retorted Masaki. “The Americans probably just wanted to see if a plutonium bomb would do as much damage as a uranium one.” “Maybe,” replied Penny, folding her arms, “but my understanding is that the Japanese wouldn’t settle for an unconditional surrender. Yes, it is sad. All war is tragic. The only winners are the arms manufacturers, financiers and those who acquire the spoils.” Masaki and Penny left the museum and wandered through Peace Memorial Park. It seemed that everywhere there were monuments for victims of the bombing. They passed memorials for children, Koreans forced into labour, those who died while calling out for water, and others. Across the river the shell of the Dome Building still stood as an eerie monument bearing the scars from that day.