Mom went to city hall to complain that this was too raw a deal and to negotiate, but they refused flatly and got angry: “Your plea won’t work in Japan. Go tell it to the Americans!” Mom grew angry: “That high-handedness at city hall really got my goat!” We were stripped naked by the atom bomb. We wandered about the ruins. At last we found a place of refuge and, working hard, erected a hut. Now even that was stolen from us. We trembled with anger and vexation. The machinations of the authorities were no different from the old days. They used the sweet-sounding term “peace” to inflict pain on residents who’d been hit by the atomic bomb and were suffering grievously. I thought, “‘Peace City’ construction—what nonsense!” Accounts of the reconstruction of Hiroshima after the bomb tell of how the mayor and other officials were helpful, distributing relief supplies to bomb victims and encouraging townspeople, but when I read them, I’m astonished.
