(Note: this was first posted on November 17, 2009. I'm reposting it today
for the anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing)
A few years ago I happened to visited Hiroshima on August 7th, one day after the
63rd anniversary of the atomic bombing of the city.
When you get off
the streetcar from the train station the first thing you see is the ruin of the
Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall. The atomic bomb detonated
almost directly overhead of the building. With its few still standing walls, and
its dome stripped and leaving only its framework, it is the iconic ruin of
Hiroshima.
When you stand at that building, if you turn in a circle
you realize your standing in a bowl surrounded by hills. Most of the rest of the
buildings in that bowl were reduced to rubble by the bomb blast and resulting
fires.
When they cleared the rubble they set aside several blocks of
the old city as the Peace Memorial Park. You walk south along the river to get
to the entrance to the monuments. At the entrance card tables are set up where
there are petitions for peace that can be signed. You can buy peace t-shirts and
listen to folk musicians strumming guitars and singing about peace. It is a
fitting sentiment for this place.
The most visited monument is the
Children's Monument for Peace. A young girl named Sadako Sasaki contracted
leukemia after the bombing. As she sickened in the hospital she remembered an
old Japanese saying that if one folds a thousand paper cranes one is granted a
wish. She spent the rest of her short life folding paper cranes, but died before
she reached one thousand. The Children's Monument for Peace was built in her
memory, and in memory of all the children who died from the bombing. It is
covered with paper cranes that school children have folded and sent to the
park.
As touching as he Children's monument was, I most wanted to see
a different monument. The monument pictured with this post. The Monument in
Memory of the Korean Victims of the A-bomb.
There were tens of
thousands of Koreans in the city when it was bombed. Most were forced laborers
who had been brought to the city, housed in barracks and worked in the munitions
plants of Hiroshima. Some 40,000 were killed, and a another 30,000 injured in
the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Most of the Koreans in Hiroshima were
from Hapcheon, South Korea, and so sadly two cities ended up bearing the brunt
of the attack (
Atomic bomb survivors in South Korea still feel the wounds).
The Korean Monument was built in 1970 by South Koreans living in
Japan and sited across the river and outside of the Peace Park. The Japanese
authorities would not allow it to be placed in the Peace Park. It took until
1999 for permission to be granted to move it onto the Park's grounds.

As I stood in front of that Monument I could not help but reflect that all
the paper cranes in the world would not have helped the dead honored by this
memorial. That the peace petitions, while a fine sentiment, were no more
substantial than Chamberlain's umbrella.
The Germans dressed
prisoners up in Polish uniforms and shot them to justify their invasion that
started the wider war in Europe. The Japanese used bayonets to stage their
low-tech version of Hiroshima in Shangai as they spread ever deeper into
China. The allies pounded cities with high explosives and incendiaries from
the air. All across the globe men died in combat and civilians died behind the
fronts.
A few days after Hiroshima's destruction Nagasaki was bombed. Hirohito
then taped his surrender speech. That night a cadre of Japanese officers
ransacked the palace seeking to destroy the recording and postpone Japan's
surrender. How do paper cranes and petitions solve that sort of madness?
In
the end, to me at least, this small place in the Park was less about the bomb
and more about Korean farmers taken from their villages and used as forced
labor. A life spent at the whim of masters. Another tragedy of the
war.
My family and I were the only people at the monument
when we visited it. The insciption on it reads, "Souls of the dead ride to
heaven on the backs of turtles." At its base are small stones with Korean
characters painted on them (pictured). The guidebook said you should leave a
gift for the slain worker's ghosts. All I had were a couple of cigarettes. I
supposed the ghosts might like to relax with a smoke and so I left them. It
was all that I could do.