International: FROM HIROSHIMA: A REPORT AND A QUESTION

Below is an extraordinary document, the first detailed account of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, written by one of the survivors, the Rev. John A. Siemes, S.J., professor of modern philosophy at Tokyo's Catholic University. Father Siemes, who was born 39 years ago in Germany, sent his impressions to the magazine Jesuit Missions:

Aug. 6 begins in a bright, clear, summer morning. About 7 o'clock, there is an air-raid alarm; about 8, the all-clear sounds. I am sitting in my room at the Novitiate of the Society of Jesus, approximately five kilometers from the center of the city. From my window, I have a wonderful view down the valley to the edge of the city.

Suddenly—the time is approximately 8:14—the whole valley is filled by a garish light, and I am conscious of a wave of heat. As I make for the door, I hear a moderately loud explosion; at the same time, the window breaks in with a loud crash. I am sprayed by fragments of glass. The entire window frame has been forced into the room. I realize now that a bomb has burst and I am under the impression that it exploded directly over our house. I am bleeding from cuts about the hands and head.

I force an opening in the jammed door by means of repeated blows with my hands and feet, and come to the broad hallway from which open the various rooms. All windows are broken and all doors are forced inwards. Most of my colleagues have been injured by fragments of glass.

Fire in the Valley. Down in the valley, perhaps one kilometer toward the city from us, several peasant homes are on fire, and the woods on the opposite side of the valley are aflame. Over the city, clouds of smoke are rising. A procession of people begins to stream up the valley from the city. The crowd thickens. Their steps are dragging, their faces blackened. Many are bleeding or have suffered burns. We give them first aid and bring them into the chapel. Our bandages and drugs are soon gone.

Among the passersby, there are many who are uninjured. Distraught by the magnitude of the disaster, most of them rush by and none conceives the thought of organizing help on his own initiative. During these days the Japanese displayed little initiative, preparedness, and organizational skill to meet a catastrophe.

What has become of Father Superior Lassalle and others who were at the center of the city at the Parish Church? About 4 o'clock in the afternoon, comes a report that the Church, Parish House and adjoining buildings had burned down, and that Father Superior and Father Schiffer had been seriously injured and that they had taken refuge in Asano Park on the river bank. Hurriedly, we get together two stretchers and rush toward the city.

Ruin in the City. The closer we get, the greater is the evidence of destruction. Houses at the outskirts are all severely damaged. Further in, all dwellings have been consumed by fire. We make our way to the street on the river bank. Twice we are forced into the river itself by the heat and smoke. All along we meet frightfully burned people. By the wayside are many dead and dying. On the Misasi Bridge we are met by a procession of soldiers who have suffered burns. Abandoned on the bridge, there stand with sunken heads a number of horses with large burns on their flanks.