“As a hibakusha, all I can do is pray for world peace. May we live the rest of our days with no nuclear war.

Mitsuto Terakawa”

“There was no air raid warning on August 6, 1945. Per usual, I left for work as a student laborer at the tatemono sokai (building demolition) site early that morning. My classmates and I were lined up in front of the demolition site when the sky turned a blinding white.

My classmates and I were burned badly. Many of us wore hats; the intense heat scorched off our hair below the brim. Thankfully, our white uniform undershirts deflected some of the heat; still, we suffered severe burns on our necks and arms. I headed to Hijiyama for refuge and eventually made it back home. It was a long journey on foot. Evidently, I was passed out for several days.

Local hospitals and clinics were dilapidated, overcrowded, or both. My mother stood by me around the clock and applied various oils and crushed human bones on my wounds. We had no choice but to rely on folk remedies back then.

My burns had penetrated several layers deep, and began to decompose from the inside. I remember having to pick maggots off my body constantly. It took over a year for the burns to heal completely.

After the war ended, hospitals were rebuilt and food rations increased. We went from having nearly nothing to eat to getting generous supplies of skim milk and dried whale meat – a cheap source of protein back then – all thanks to America-san. Children reclaimed their health. Our country recovered very quickly after that.”