Monday, March 21, 2011

Nagasaki - Atomic Bomb Memorials

Last Monday, I went to visit the Atomic Bomb Museum, the Nagasaki National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims, the Hypocenter and the Peace Park.

Atomic Bomb Museum

The museum documents the damage done by the atomic bomb. The first exhibit that really moved me were two aerial photographs, one taken before the bombing and one after. The first shows a thriving city. The second shows barren land.

Next, there are some exhibits demonstrating the effect of the extreme heat: molten glass bottles and coins, roof tiles with bubbles, and one that I found particularly terrible:  bones of a human hand, partly covered with molten glass, apparently found near the Hypocenter.




Another very impressive part are testimonials by survivors - both written and on video - who described how they experienced that day and the time that followed. There are testimonials by children who saw their mothers and siblings burn and die before their eyes. There are testimonials by people who survived and tried to help, but couldn't do enough. There are testimonials by people who survived but were severely injured and never fully recovered.

Finally, the museum also has some information about the fight against nuclear weapons after the war, and which nations continue to do nuclear testing and develop nuclear weaponry.

Nagasaki National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims

The memorial hall is designed as a place to remember the people who died because of the atomic bomb. The hall holds written records with the names of everybody who died (the column in the middle of the picture holds folders with all of the names).



I am still trying to wrap my mind around the number: 152.276. Erlangen has around 100.000 inhabitants. So one and a half times Erlangen, dead. Everybody. Women. Children. Old people. Prisoners. Foreigners. Everybody. And for most of them, not a quick, painless death, but a slow and painful one.

Who is responsible for that? The person issuing the order? The pilots dropping the bomb? The people loading the bomb into the aircraft? The factory workers assembling the bomb? The scientists developing it?

Did any of them feel responsible? Was anybody held responsible? And how did they live with the knowledge that they had contributed to the death of thousands of innocent civilians?

This got me thinking - isn't it marvelous how the military chain of command coupled with an uneven distribution of knowledge somehow removes the sense of responsibility?
Of all the people involved - who knew that the bomb was special? Who realized what effect the bomb would have? Who had the knowledge but still followed their orders without questioning them? Who did the job just for the money and closed their eyes to the real nature of what they were doing? Who enjoyed being part of something special? Who felt proud to be given the chance to prove themselves on a critical mission?

In the end, almost everybody was "just" following orders. Disobeying orders is always difficult - shown in the Milgram experiment, for example - and critical thinking is not really encouraged in the military. Or in big companies, for that matter. I believe they have largely the same problems as the military regarding loss of responsibility. And the people issuing the orders were so far removed from the fate of individual people that they were just dealing with numbers - if they thought about it at all.

Some of the scientists involved warned against the use of the bomb in June 1945 (the Franck Report). But at that time, it was too late of course: military and politics alike had found a new toy, a weapon that put them ahead in the war game. And they needed to use it to justify the billions of dollars that had been spent developing it.

So were the scientists wrong in developing it at all?

What still blows my mind is how humans are capable of administering a slow and painful death to completely innocent people. But much more scary, perhaps, is that I can see how a situation would develop in which you are led to believe there is only one specific way to act, and how it would be extremely difficult to act differently once you find yourself in such a situation.


Hypocenter

A black column marks the location of the Hypocenter, that is, the place below the bomb's detonation point (which was about 500m above the ground). To the right of the column, you can see one pillar from Urakami cathedral that remained standing after the explosion. The cathedral was originally not that close to the Hypocenter, but the pillar was relocated here when reconstruction of the cathedral started.



Around the area of the Hypocenter and the Atomic Bomb Museum, there are many small peace monuments, often decorated with colorful ribbons.




Peace Park

The peace park holds a number of statues and monuments that have been contributed from around the world, all advocating peace.



Far more impressive than that, however, are the ruins of the building that stood closest to the bomb's detonation point. The building - a prison with sturdy, steel-enforced brick and concrete walls - was completely flattened. All that's left are 10 or maybe 15 centimeters of wall, with bent steel sticking out.

Ruins of a prison. You can see the famous peace statue in the background.

Nowadays, the ruins have been repossessed by nature: