On Thursday, 9th August 1945, at 11:02 a.m., the American B29 bomber Bockscar dropped the atomic bomb over Nagasaki. A flash was seen in the sky before the giant mushroom cloud sealed the city's fate, as it had done three days earlier in Hiroshima. The bomb detonated between the Mitsubishi steel works and the Urakami cathedral. Heat and force ripped through the valley, killing everyone within a 1.2 km radius of the hypocentre and causing devastating burns, radiation and other injuries up to four kilometres away.
The A-bomb memorial museum sits at a hill not far from the hypocentre. It contains three main wings in which the exhibits and information present, in turn, the damage caused by the heat, force and radiation produced by the detonation. There are sickening pictures of burns and injured and dead victims. Displays of melted coins, damaged clothes and various objects that have been discoloured or burnt on the side that faced the blast bear witness to the pictures. There is a metal lunchbox containing blackened rice that was made on the morning of the bombing, destined not to be eaten by the doomed schoolgirl who carried it.
After the bomb damage section, there is an area presenting witness accounts on video and in writing. One of these is a haiku by a poet by the name of Atsuyuki Matsuo. He returned to the city the day after the bombing and found his wife and children severely injured by the bomb. They all died, one by one. The haiku was, for me at least, the most moving thing in the museum. I will add it to this blog post when I have obtained a copy.
The final part of the museum is dedicated to a timeline showing, in parallel, world history since 1945, nuclear weapon proliferation and campaigns led by Nagasaki city supporting nuclear disarmament and world peace.
Modern Nagasaki has the feel of a laid-back provincial town in tropical climes. The warm weather, attractive harbour and wharf, and old-fashioned trams give it a unique character compared to other Japanese cities. Green hills protruding from the city landscape only add to the pleasant aesthetic. Museum and memorials aside, the most noticeable remnants of the devastation of 1945 are the white metal doves attached to its many rebuilt bridges.
The A-bomb memorial museum sits at a hill not far from the hypocentre. It contains three main wings in which the exhibits and information present, in turn, the damage caused by the heat, force and radiation produced by the detonation. There are sickening pictures of burns and injured and dead victims. Displays of melted coins, damaged clothes and various objects that have been discoloured or burnt on the side that faced the blast bear witness to the pictures. There is a metal lunchbox containing blackened rice that was made on the morning of the bombing, destined not to be eaten by the doomed schoolgirl who carried it.
After the bomb damage section, there is an area presenting witness accounts on video and in writing. One of these is a haiku by a poet by the name of Atsuyuki Matsuo. He returned to the city the day after the bombing and found his wife and children severely injured by the bomb. They all died, one by one. The haiku was, for me at least, the most moving thing in the museum. I will add it to this blog post when I have obtained a copy.
The final part of the museum is dedicated to a timeline showing, in parallel, world history since 1945, nuclear weapon proliferation and campaigns led by Nagasaki city supporting nuclear disarmament and world peace.
Modern Nagasaki has the feel of a laid-back provincial town in tropical climes. The warm weather, attractive harbour and wharf, and old-fashioned trams give it a unique character compared to other Japanese cities. Green hills protruding from the city landscape only add to the pleasant aesthetic. Museum and memorials aside, the most noticeable remnants of the devastation of 1945 are the white metal doves attached to its many rebuilt bridges.
