Nagasaki, Japan

Ground Zero -  August 9, 1945

 

Our sail-in to Nagasaki yesterday morning was, by far, the most scenic so far this trip. With few clouds to distort sunrise, the many knolls & mountains were glistening with a peaceful mist from the sea. I sat in silence for the better part of an hour, wondering if the landscape may have looked the same that morning back in 1945 before the missile from hell ignited the devastating horror. If only the hillsides could talk.

I never served in the armed forces. Back in my day before the draft system changed, my ‘number’ was somewhere just north of 200, so I was honorably excused from enlisting. My father fought in WWll, but I don’t believe he ever set foot on Japanese soil. For some reason, we never discussed his rank, role, or battle locations. To me, war was something you read or learned about through news accounts & TV documentaries – but never having walked in combat boots, it was difficult (impossible) for me to grasp the realities of war, and specifically, the upshot of death & destruction. It wasn’t until I visited Pearl Harbor several years ago that I began to understand the true devastation I first learned of through history books as a youngster. And it wasn’t until yesterday that I went completely full circle – our response to Japan & retaliation for their attack in Hawaii. I wish to God both confrontations would’ve never occurred. 





Early Sail-In

   

 

 

 

 

We have several folks from Japan who regularly follow this blog. As I narrate the sequence of events around the 8/9/45 event, please know I have the utmost respect for you, your great country, and hold no ill feelings for past immoralities. I would hope your frame of mind & reference point echo mine nearly 70 years later. Our past generations, both of them, made some horrific mistakes. Let’s not allow their misguided actions impact our association. As Cheryl often says and I think most appropriately, there are never any winners in war.       

It started when President Truman issued a statement announcing the use of the Atomic Bomb...warning Japan. He stated, "If they don’t accept our terms, they can expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth. Behind this air attack will follow sea and land forces in such numbers and power as they have not yet seen and with the fighting skill of which they are already well aware". 

Well, the Japanese government didn’t react. The city of Nagasaki had been one of the largest seaports in southern Japan, and was of great wartime importance because of its wide-ranging industrial activity, including the production of ordnance, ships, military equipment, and other war materials. The four largest companies in the city were Mitsubishi Shipyards, Electrical Shipyards, Arms Plant, and Steel and Arms Works, which employed about 90% of the city's labor force, & accounted for 90% of the city's industry. Although an important industrial city, Nagasaki had been spared from firebombing because its geography made it difficult to locate at night with radar. In contrast to Hiroshima, almost all the buildings in Nagasaki were of old-fashioned Japanese construction, consisting of wood or wood-frame buildings with wood walls (with or without plaster) and tile roofs. Many of the smaller industries and business establishments were also situated in buildings of wood or other materials not designed to withstand explosions. Nagasaki had been permitted to grow for many years without conforming to any definite city zoning plan - residences were erected adjacent to factory buildings and to each other as closely as possible throughout the entire industrial valley. On the day of the bombing, an estimated 263,000 people were in Nagasaki, including 240,000 Japanese residents, 10,000 Korean residents, 2,500 conscripted Korean workers, 9,000 Japanese soldiers, 600 conscripted Chinese workers, and 400 Allied prisoners of war in a camp to the north of Nagasaki.

Originally scheduled for August 11 against Kokura, the raid was moved earlier by two days to avoid a five-day period of bad weather forecast to begin on August 10th. On August 8th, a dress rehearsal was conducted off Tinian. Around 4am on the morning of August 9, 1945, with Kokura as the primary target and Nagasaki the secondary target, the plane took off. The mission plan for the second attack was nearly identical to that of the Hiroshima mission, with two B-29s flying an hour ahead as weather scouts and two additional B-29s in flight for instrumentation and photographic support of the mission. By the time they reached Kokura a half hour later, a 70% cloud cover had obscured the city, inhibiting the visual attack required by orders. After three runs over the city, and with fuel running low because a transfer pump on a reserve tank had failed before take-off, they headed for their secondary target, Nagasaki. Fuel consumption calculations made enroute indicated that the plane had insufficient fuel to reach Iwo Jima and would be forced to divert to Okinawa. Initially, they decided that if Nagasaki was obscured on their arrival, they would carry the bomb to Okinawa and dispose of it in the ocean if necessary – they also decided that a radar approach would be used if the target was obscured. At about 7:50 Japanese time, an air raid alert was sounded in Nagasaki, but the "all clear" signal was given at 8:30. When only two B-29 Superfortresses were sighted just before 11am, the Japanese apparently assumed that the planes were only on reconnaissance and no further alarm was given.

 At 11:01, a last minute break in the clouds over Nagasaki allowed the planes bombardier to visually sight the target as ordered. The Fat Man weapon (so it was named) containing a core of about 14 lb of plutonium, was dropped over the city's industrial valley. It exploded 43 seconds later at 1,539 ft above the ground halfway between the Mitsubishi Steel and Arms Works in the south and the Mitsubishi-Urakami Ordnance Works (Torpedo Works) in the north. This was nearly 2 miles northwest of the planned hypocenter; the blast was confined to the Urakami Valley and a major portion of the city was protected by the intervening hills. The explosion generated heat estimated at 7,050 °F and winds that were estimated at 624 mph. Of 7,500 Japanese employees who worked inside the Mitsubishi Munitions plant, including mobilized students and regular workers, 6,200 were killed. Some 17,000–22,000 others who worked in other war plants and factories in the city died as well. Casualty estimates for immediate deaths range from 40,000 to 75,000. Yesterday, our tour guide told us that by the end of calendar year 1945, total deaths were close to 150,000.

The city was rebuilt after the war, albeit dramatically changed. That said, at least based on what we saw yesterday, the city appears much older than our previous port which wasn’t affected at all during the war. The pace of reconstruction was slow. The first simple emergency dwellings were not provided until 1946. The focus on redevelopment was the replacement of war industries with foreign trade, shipbuilding and fishing. This was formally declared when the Nagasaki International Culture City Reconstruction Law was passed in May 1949. New temples were built, as well as new churches owing to an increase in the presence of Christianity. Some of the rubble was left as a memorial, such as a one-legged tori gate and an arch near ground zero. New structures were also raised as memorials, such as the Atomic Bomb Museum which has since been replaced with a more modern facility. The original museum remains today, but I wasn’t able to find out what they use it for. It appeared to be in pretty good condition, and is right next door to the original. Nagasaki remains first and foremost a port city, supporting a rich ship building industry and setting a strong example of perseverance and peace. As of last January, the city had a population of about 446,000.

Right up until we stepped off the ship, our feelings about visiting the site of the second atomic bomb attack were conflicted. Our tour wasn’t scheduled to begin until 10:45, but we were off and walking around shortly after docking at 8:00. We thought the city would have a quiet, peaceful atmosphere putting us at ease, but that wasn’t the case. Unlike our three previous Japanese ports, the folks here weren’t quite as welcoming – I thought that maybe it was just me until Cheryl mentioned it herself. Then I asked a police officer if I could take his photo with Cheryl. He raised his orange baton and waved us off…not once, but twice – it was as if we both had contagious diseases. 

Our primary destination for the day was the area around the bombing but again, no tour until 10:45. There were many beautiful parks in and around the main pier, so we spent some time wandering. The city itself was celebrating its annual Harvest Festival – held each October 7, 8, & 9. A massive street market was being constructed, so we walked past & through dozens of tents. Interestingly, the hundreds of school kids we encountered were beaming and very friendly toward us, but not so with the adults, particularly the older folks. We were never once invited into a tent or retail shop like we were in previous ports. Our ‘bowing gestures’ were seldom returned in Nagasaki – neither of us had a warm & fuzzy – it wasn’t our imagination.

We returned to the ship around 10:00 to refill our ice-water jugs and peel some layers of cloths. What started as a cool morning, it was warming quickly with a forecast high of 82. We arrived at our designated tour departure location several minutes early and luckily, everyone else had too. The buses were ready – off we went.

The path up the hill to The Peace Garden was brilliantly lined with flowers and the cherry blossoms were reaching their peak. A remarkable sight anywhere, but made even more extraordinary since many scientists predicted that no vegetation would grow on this ground for seventy-five years because of the radioactive fallout. The garden is dedicated to peace, and the hope that an atomic weapon will never again be used against the people of the world. It was also an excellent spot to begin our visit to all of the memorials. From here we could walk to the Urakami Cathedral, the epicenter (ground zero), and the Atomic Bomb Museum. Cheryl and I were OK with the walk, but some of the older passengers were really challenged with the many ramps & staircases, particularly between the museum & ground zero. 

Monuments, given from cities and countries all around the globe to demonstrate their commitment to world peace, line the walkways that lead to The Fountain of Peace. The fountain's spraying water forms dove's wings as a symbol of peace. Water has an emotional attachment to this memorial because so many died due to the lack of any drinkable water. This was most poignantly brought to our attention by the inscription on the fountain. Sachiko Yamaguchi, a girl only nine years old at time of the bombing, wrote "I was thirsty beyond endurance. There was something oily on the surface of the water, but I wanted water so badly that I drank it just as it was."

Opposite the fountain, the park is dominated by a huge statue known as The Prayer Monument for Peace. Towering thirty feet high, it was erected on August 9, 1955, the tenth anniversary of the explosion. The mammoth figure has his right hand extended upwards toward where the bomb fell, and his left outstretched in a gesture of peace. His eyes are closed in prayer. It's hard to say how long we spent taking in the garden because there is a timeless, almost dreamlike quality to the memorial. Between the fountain & monument, the actual foundation of a prison building remains with its charred remnants. After some time we still had difficulty sorting our emotions out. One thing we can say for certain, the park was incredibly successful at conveying its message of peace.

Looking down from the garden we could see Urakami Cathedral a few blocks away. This was once the largest Catholic church in The Far East, but stood just a few hundred feet from the center of the blast. However, a handful of statues survived the devastation and are now displayed in front of the rebuilt church.

We walked along the Shimonokawa River down to the hypocenter, the point directly below the explosion which was exposed to the center of the bomb's destructive force, to see. The precise point is marked by a cenotaph, an empty tomb to honor those never found, in the center of concentric circles. But again, despite the horrific history of this spot, our feelings were directed toward peace and remembrance. The site is incredibly solemn, yet very beautiful.

We sat for a few minutes before heading up to what we knew would be an emotionally draining visit to The Atomic Bomb Museum. Clocks forever stopped at 11:02 are a stark reminder of how time stood still for the people of Nagasaki on that fateful day. The museum details Nagasaki before, during, and after the blast, as well as the history of the development and deployment of the bomb. We entered into a room depicting life in the city just before the attack. Everything seemed normal, there was no warning whatsoever, no air raid sirens sounded, and no one made it into any of the numerous shelters. We continued into a darkened room showing the aftermath of the explosion. As our eyes adjusted we began to see the items clearly, a twisted water tower, a replica of the collapsed cathedral, and photographs of the destruction. It definitely captured our attention, almost like walking back in time through the ruins. The main hall of the museum contains artifacts left from the devastation, stopped clocks, melted glass and even some charred human bone. There are also many first-hand accounts from survivors. An eerie photo entitled Silhouette of a lookout and his ladder remain on a wall was taken about three miles from the hypocenter after tar exposed directly to the flash burned. The tar disappeared, but the shadows remained on the Nagasaki Fortress Headquarters.

There were dozens of school children in the museum on a field trip - & obviously tasked with an assignment as all had pencil & paper in-hand, & all were busy making diagrams & taking notes. A young boy, perhaps 10 or 11, was off in a corner looking at one of the actual photos depicting a child with severe facial burns. I approached the same display and stood silently next to the boy for several seconds. The picture was horrific. It was very emotional. The boy turned toward me with his eyes welled with tears…he didn’t speak…nor did he have to…he could see my eyes were swollen too.

That’s all for now.