VOX POPULI: Rare photos of Hiroshima A-bombing show grim aftermath
There are few photographs left today that show what Hiroshima looked like immediately after the U.S. bomber Enola Gay dropped its nuclear payload on the city on Aug. 6, 1945.
Of the pictures taken that day to graphically record the horrendous fate met by Hiroshima's citizens, only five film negatives still survive.
They are all the works of Yoshito Matsushige (1913-2005), a photographer with the local daily newspaper The Chugoku Shimbun.
Matsushige, who was 32 at the time, lived 2.8 kilometers from ground zero. Blown off his feet by the nuclear blast and bleeding from shards of broken window panes, he grabbed his camera and headed to the city.
A toddler clung to its mother who could not move. A woman kept shouting her child's name.
Faced with hordes of people with burnt skin and hair, Matsushige hesitated to release the shutter.
'Please forgive me,' he murmured in his heart as he steeled himself to do his job.
The results are five black-and-white photographs that can be seen today.
The silent witnesses show us a perspective that is decisively lacking from any aerial photo of the mushroom cloud taken from above.
Matsushige's photos embody the 'suffering Hiroshima' its citizens gazed up at from under the mushroom cloud, not the Hiroshima as seen from the sky by the people who dropped the bomb.
Some people may wonder about the scarcity of photos that remain. But far too many lives were wiped out by the bomb. The Chugoku Shimbun lost one-third of its workers—or 114 people.
After World War II, the military incinerated many pictures, the disposal of some was regulated by the General Headquarters for the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers (GHQ).
At the Tokyo Photographic Art Museum, an exhibition of rare, valuable photos opened on May 31.
Titled 'Hiroshima 1945: Special Exhibition 80 Years after Atomic Bombing,' it highlights these weighty words of one of the photographers: 'As a record, may our photographs remain final forever.'
—The Asahi Shimbun, June 3
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Vox Populi, Vox Dei is a popular daily column that takes up a wide range of topics, including culture, arts and social trends and developments. Written by veteran Asahi Shimbun writers, the column provides useful perspectives on and insights into contemporary Japan and its culture.
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Asahi Shimbun
a day ago
- Asahi Shimbun
Hibakusha hope young people will carry on their campaign
Completed questionnaires for the nationwide survey of atomic bomb survivors conducted by The Asahi Shimbun, The Chugoku Shimbun and The Nagasaki Shimbun (Takuya Tanabe) Eighty years after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, many of the 3,564 survivors who responded to a survey expressed determination to pass down their experiences, despite the passage of time and the turbulent international situation. A 93-year-old woman who lives in Hatsukaichi, Hiroshima Prefecture, said she shared her experiences for the first time just two months ago. 'I saw no light and heard no sound. I was trapped under the station building at Koi Station (in Hiroshima) and crawled out. I saw something like cotton or clouds. Today, I spoke about the keloid scars on both my legs for the first time.' She was one of the respondents to the nationwide survey of hibakusha jointly conducted by The Asahi Shimbun, The Chugoku Shimbun, which is based in Hiroshima, and The Nagasaki Shimbun. Largely due to aging, illness or disability, 16.2 percent of the respondents had their children, grandchildren or others close to them write on their behalf. The Hatsukaichi woman's response was filled out by her former care manager. Those who could do so summoned the strength to write. Shaky handwriting was noted in many responses. 'I have never spoken about the atomic bomb with my family or classmates. I just can't,' a 95-year-old woman in the western Tokyo city of Machida wrote. 'Writing about it for the first time (for this survey) was painful. I am old, and I cannot write well.' NOBEL PRIZE BUOYS CONFIDENCE The three newspapers previously conducted their own hibakusha surveys and planned the joint survey to collect more testimonies on the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombings. Questionnaires were distributed to about 11,000 people starting at the end of January, with support from the Japan Federation of A- and H-Bomb Sufferers Organizations (Nihon Hidankyo) and regional hibakusha groups. Valid responses were received from 3,564 people in 43 prefectures. The average age of the respondents was 85.46. The youngest was 78, who was exposed in utero, and the oldest 106. Of all respondents, 59.6 percent were exposed in Hiroshima and 39.7 percent in Nagasaki. Responses from those without the Atomic Bomb Survivor's Certificate, which grants formal hibakusha status and government benefits, were still deemed valid. The government considers this group of survivors ineligible because they were outside the government-designated exposure zone in and around Nagasaki. Nihon Hidankyo was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize last year. The Norwegian Nobel Committee said the organization received the prize for 'its efforts to achieve a world free of nuclear weapons and for demonstrating through witness testimony that nuclear weapons must never be used again.' 'I was overjoyed,' an 81-year-old woman in Hirosaki, Aomori Prefecture, wrote. 'But I do not want to stop at joy. Without giving up hope, I want to keep walking toward a world without nuclear weapons or war.' Nihon Hidankyo winning the prize encouraged a hibakusha to start sharing her experiences. 'I had never told anyone that I am a hibakusha. But people around me changed after the award,' an 81-year-old woman in Gifu wrote. 'I spoke in front of 14 or 15 people, saying I am a hibakusha. They listened attentively.' 'I AM NOT HELPLESS' As the number of hibakusha able to recount their experiences declines, passing on their memories has become an urgent task. According to the health ministry, the average age of those holding the Atomic Bomb Survivor's Certificate was 86.13 as of March. The number of certificate holders stood at 99,130, down from a peak of 372,264 in 1981. It fell below 100,000 for the first time since the issuance of the handbook began in 1957. Only a combined 48.9 percent of respondents think that the experiences and thoughts of hibakusha were being passed on to the next generation 'fully' or 'to some extent.' 'No matter how many times I speak, the horrors of the atomic bomb do not get through,' an 88-year-old woman in Hiroshima said in a response written by a welfare facility employee. A 79-year-old woman in Isa, Kagoshima Prefecture, wrote: 'I sometimes want to give up (speaking), but I must not. I may be powerless, but I am not helpless. I want to live while thinking about what I can do where I am.' Asked if they have ever shared their experiences with someone, 28.3 percent of respondents said they have never done so. The most common reason was vague or lost memories, picked by 24.8 percent. Others cited a lack of opportunities (13.2 percent), fears of discrimination or prejudice (9.2 percent), emotional pain of recalling experiences (7.7 percent) and despair of ever being understood (7 percent). 'I wish people would listen seriously, but I am worried that they may brush off (my account),' a 94-year-old woman in Nagasaki said in a response written by a welfare facility employee. While some elderly hibakusha try to avoid recalling painful memories, those who were exposed as children struggle to speak because they have faint recollections. 'I have no recollection myself, so it is difficult to pass anything on,' an 80-year-old woman in Hiroshima wrote. 'I do not know what to do.' IMPLORING THE YOUNG As they grow older, some hibakusha can no longer express themselves as they once did. 'There is so much I want to share, but I cannot even write anymore,' an 86-year-old woman in Tokyo's Kita Ward said in a response written by her daughter. 'I am sorry (that I cannot be of help) at this important opportunity.' A woman wrote on behalf of her 95-year-old mother who lives in Saka, Hiroshima Prefecture, and is suffering from dementia. 'If only my mother were younger, she could have answered more,' the daughter wrote. Asked if they think nuclear weapons can be abolished, 36.9 percent of respondents said no, exceeding the 27.9 percent who said yes. War and nuclear threats persist, from Russia's invasion of Ukraine to the conflict between Israel and Hamas in Gaza. 'It feels like lawlessness is going unchallenged globally,' an 81-year-old woman in Onomichi, Hiroshima Prefecture, said in a response written by her daughter. 'Nuclear armament has been increasingly justified, and I worry that we are backing away from nuclear abolition.' A 79-year-old woman in Tokyo's Meguro Ward wrote: 'I am disheartened by the foolishness of politicians around the world. Not only politicians but also we citizens are irresponsible and self-centered.' Still, many respondents place their hopes on future generations. A 96-year-old man in Miki, Kagawa Prefecture, said he has a plea for young people. 'Please pass on the horrors of the atomic bomb, the tragedy of war and the preciousness of peace to as many people as possible,' he wrote. An 83-year-old man in Tottori said it is important to repeat and continue together even if each person's power is small. 'If we remain silent, the powers that be mistakenly believe that their views have been accepted,' he wrote. 'Let's keep speaking out, even in a small voice.' An 80-year-old woman in Mikasa, Hokkaido, said, 'Don't think you are not qualified to speak just because you were not exposed. I believe that learning and inheriting (hibakusha's experiences) together leads to world peace.' * * * Media resolved to document and pass on A-bomb survivors' stories By TAKAAKI TAMURA/ Staff Writer 'I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.' So said J. Robert Oppenheimer, a U.S. theoretical physicist who led the development of the atomic bomb, upon witnessing its power in an experiment. The atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 claimed more than 200,000 lives by the end of that year. It was the worst act of indiscriminate slaughter in human history. Eighty years later, the average age of survivors exceeds 86, and their numbers have fallen below 100,000. The fading of memories over time is inevitable. Yet the threat of nuclear weapons remains a pressing issue globally. What can the media do? This year, The Asahi Shimbun partnered with The Chugoku Shimbun and The Nagasaki Shimbun, the newspapers based in the cities destroyed by the atomic bombings, which have continued to confront the reality of the catastrophe. We believe it is our duty to go beyond corporate boundaries and gather as many testimonies as possible. We received 3,564 responses, which contain shaky or blurred handwriting as well as densely written letters. Each and every one deserves to be preserved for future generations. We will publish articles based on these responses. We hope they inspire readers to reflect on what we can do to ensure no one ever suffers from atomic bombing again. * * * Takaaki Tamura heads The Asahi Shimbun's News and Analysis Center on Nuclear Issues.
Japan Today
3 days ago
- Japan Today
Wartime child worker reveals dark secrets of Japan's 'Rabbit Island'
By Tomoji Tatsumi Okunoshima has become famous globally as Japan's Instagrammable "Rabbit Island," but little is known about its dark history as a host to a wartime poison gas factory and weapons plant. Today, people come to enjoy the picturesque views of the Seto Inland Sea from campgrounds and hiking trails in the Inland Sea National Park, with the island's charm and intriguing past making it a compelling subject for online content. Eighty years ago, the island hosted a secret poison gas factory that played a key role in Japan's illegal use of chemical weapons in occupied China. It was also a production site for the military's long-range, unmanned, incendiary "balloon bombs" that were used against the United States during World War II. Reiko Okada was mobilized to the island as a teenager for the war effort, helping the Imperial Japanese Army build balloon bombs known as "Fu-Go." Okada, now 95, is one of the few people still alive who has both a "gas notebook" for poison gas victims and an "A-bomb notebook" for survivors of the atomic bomb. Japan, which was a signatory to the Geneva Protocol of 1925 that prohibited the use of chemical and biological weapons, produced mustard gas and other deadly chemical weapons on Okunoshima, at what was the largest poison gas factory in Asia. Okada was sent to Okunoshima as a 15-year-old third-year student at Tadanoumi Girls' High School in Takehara -- near the seaside Hiroshima Prefecture city located on the main island of Honshu -- in 1945. After the United States dropped the atomic bomb on Aug. 6, 1945, effectively bringing about Japan's defeat in World War II, she also worked as a relief worker in the suburbs of Hiroshima. In an interview, the former art teacher from Mihara, Hiroshima Prefecture, declared her willingness to tell the "last story of my life" and warned: "If we do not face up to our responsibility as perpetrators of the war, we will repeat the mistakes of the past." At the end of 1944, the government had proclaimed "ichioku gyokusai," translated literally as "100 million shattered jewels." The phrase served as the last unofficial rallying cry of the empire, expressing the regime's willingness to sacrifice the entire Japanese population, if necessary, to protect the fatherland. Whenever Okada, who was mobilized in November of the same year, heard these words, she stared fixedly at the surrounding waters and thought: "I don't want to die." The following summer, when Japan was bombed by U.S. air raids in various regions, Okada and the other girls were suddenly ordered to "evacuate" poison gas materials to a neighboring island. In the sweltering heat, the schoolgirls donned work gloves and transported the chemical barrels to a dock, making more than a dozen trips a day for over two weeks. Okada says she and the others were given strict instructions by the army not to reveal Okunoshima's location to family or friends. On Aug. 15, students gathered in a square on the island to listen to the "Jewel Voice Broadcast" in which Emperor Hirohito announced Japan's acceptance of the Allied demand for unconditional surrender in a radio address. Then, for about two weeks from Aug. 18, she was involved in an A-bomb relief effort in a middle school auditorium in a suburb of Hiroshima. She says it was a horrific scene where people were dying every day. "It felt like a damp world of maggots crawling inside weakened bodies," she recalled. Okada, who had traveled to the city within two weeks of the bomb's detonation, was certified as a hibakusha -- atomic bomb survivor -- because she had entered the affected area shortly after the attack. Before that traumatizing period, she had spent time on the island in the weapons factory. There, she and her fellow students used a paste made from konnyaku root to build the unmanned, hydrogen-filled balloon bombs, which were 10 meters in diameter and made of Japanese washi paper. Carrying incendiary bombs and an advanced-for-its-time altitude control system, the balloons were able to ride the jet stream across the Pacific and reach North America. Between 1944 and 1945, more than 9,000 of these balloons were launched, mostly from three bases in Japan, and at least 300 are believed to have reached the U.S. mainland, where they caused wildfires but little other major damage. Okada realized her own culpability in the war, however, when she later learned that six people, including children, had been killed by a balloon bomb in western Oregon in May 1945 -- the only known casualties in the continental United States from an enemy attack during the war. After the war, Okada studied at a fine arts college run by Kyoto city. She returned to her hometown of Mihara, where she taught art at a local high school until her mid-50s, before devoting herself to painting privately and peace work. She suffered physical after-effects from her time in Hiroshima shortly after the bombing and from chronic bronchitis caused by her stint on Okunoshima. However, treatment allowed her to overcome her ailments. After the war, Okada also learned that poison gas weapons had wreaked havoc in China. In 1989, after retiring from teaching, she published a book of pictures documenting her war experiences and sent it to Chinese war victims to express her remorse and apologies. Since then, she has continued her anti-war campaigning through her drawing and writing. According to the U.S. military's post-war records, Japan produced 6,616 tons of poison gas that was used in over 7 million ammunition rounds, including artillery shells. Some of the poison gas munitions transported to China went unused and were left abandoned, causing problems when they were later found or unearthed. The Japanese government confirmed the "existence of abandoned chemical weapons" in a memorandum to the Chinese government in 1999. Currently, the total number of chemical weapon munitions left behind is estimated at more than 100,000. Japan and China are working together to dispose of them. Okada believes Japanese people "should accept causing a war as our responsibility, face it, reflect on it, apologize for it, make amends for it and ensure that it leads to friendship and peace." With various conflicts raging around the world, "we don't know when Japan will go to war," she said. "Each and every one of us must not be deceived, and we must all work together to prevent war. "Nationalism is the doctrine that must be feared the most." © KYODO
Yomiuri Shimbun
3 days ago
- Yomiuri Shimbun
Rengatei Carries on Tradition of Yoshoku Cuisine in Tokyo's Ginza District; Restaurant Has Served Western-Influenced Japanese Food for 130 Years
A block away from the fashionable main street of Tokyo's glitzy Ginza district is Ginza Gasuto Dori ('Gaslight street'), where a building with simple brick exterior stands: It is Rengatei, a restaurant that has been serving up yoshoku — Western-influenced Japanese cuisine — for well over a century. It was Rengatei that was responsible for popularizing famous yoshoku dishes such as omurice (stir-fried rice wrapped in an omelet), katsuretsu (cutlet of beef, pork or chicken) and hayashi rice (a plate of rice with beef and sauce). The restaurant is believed to have helped spread a culture of restaurants offering Western-style food at reasonable prices for ordinary opened in 1895 (the 28th year of the Meiji era) in the Ginza district. The restaurant underwent the 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake and World War II, which burned down the restaurant. Its current building was constructed in 1964. Items inside the restaurant, such as a red public rotary telephone and a cash register which has been used for about 60 years, give customers a deep sense of the establishment's long history. I quickly ordered one of best-selling dishes, Meiji Tanjo Omurice, priced at ¥3,000 including tax. Firstly, I broke the firm omelet with a spoon and scooped up a mouthful of the food. I was surprised by the way the taste of egg softly spread through my mouth. The stir-fried rice contained seasoned minced beef and pork, and ketchup added to the overall flavor. Though the taste was simple, it precisely balanced the flavors of the egg and the rice. In a happy mood, I looked over the menu again and saw many delicious-looking yoshoku foods. Masahisa Nakamura, grand chef of Rengatei, said, 'I also recommend the katsuretsu, fried oysters and other fried dishes.' The restaurant's way of preparing fried foods has not changed since it opened, and its chefs have always been very particular about the blend of cooking oil they use. They also use fresh breadcrumbs, giving Rengatei's fried food a crispy texture. Rengatei's dishes have been loved by several famous people over the years, such as novelist Shotaro Ikenami, who was fond of their pork katsuretsu. After some cutlets and alcohol, he would always finish with a plate of hayashi Tezuka, a legendary manga artist, was another frequent customer. Koichiro Kida, the fourth-generation owner of Rengatei, said with a smile, 'Each frequent customer has their own favorite foods.' Kida's own favorites are ham steak and ham rice, which his grandfather, the second-generation owner, often cooked for him. Rengatei has passed down traditional flavors from the Meiji era to the Reiwa era. The restaurant marked the 130th anniversary of its opening this June. It feels luxurious to come into this comfortable space and enjoy the yoshoku cuisine which has been loved for so long in the Ginza district. The next time you want to reward yourself for all your hard work, this restaurant is an excellent choice. ***Rengatei Address: 3-5-16 Ginza, Chuo Ward, Tokyo Access: 3-minute walk from Ginza Station on Ginza Line Hours: Open from 11:15 a.m. to 3 p.m. and from 5:30 p.m. to 9 p.m. Closed on Sundays.
