No Regrets!

Our morning trip to Hiroshima started like many mornings in Japan: with 7-Eleven sandwiches for breakfast. Three sandwiches, a hermetically sealed banana, and a tea drink for $3.30. How can you beat that? We prefer that to taking a bento box on the train. The ones we spotted in a window looked vile, especially first thing in the morning.

Hijinks ensued when I read our shinkansen tickets wrong, confidently boarded car #3, and confronted two sweet Japanese women who appeared to be sitting in our seats. They couldn’t make anything out of our tickets printed in English, and I couldn’t make anything out of their tickets printed in Japanese. There was some unproductive chattering both ways before I realized that we were supposed to be in car #10. The train had already started whooshing along at that point, so I apologized, tucked my tail between my legs, and told Dave to follow me on the walk of shame, clumsily toting suitcases and giant backpacks through cars 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. We finally reached our seats, and I collapsed in a heap of sweat.

Hiroshima seems like Osaka, another big city but perhaps less fancy. Our Hilton Hiroshima near the city center doesn’t have much going on around it other than other high-rise condos.

After dropping our stuff at the hotel, we headed out for what would be a very heavy and impactful afternoon. Our walk to the iconic Atomic Bomb Dome took us through the city center and alongside the Motoyasu River. Dave stopped at an little stand to get what he claimed is the best orange juice ever, while I stopped to read memorials and plaques describing the significance of the area and the events of the fateful day when the first atomic bomb was dropped in an act of war on the morning of August 6, 1945.

Hiroshima was chosen because it had military and industrial significance and was a compact city with relatively flat terrain. The bomb, named Little Boy, was dropped by a US B-29 bomber called Enola Gay from an altitude of 31,000 feet. The bomb detonated 43 seconds later about 600 meters (1,968 feet) above the ground, calculated as the height that would cause the maximum amount of damage. In an instant, temperature on the ground directly below the blast was 4,000 °C (7,200 °F). The amount of uranium-235 that produced the blast, compressed into a sphere, would be the size of a soccer ball.

An estimated 70,000–80,000 people were killed instantly, with the total rising to 150,000–200,000 in the years that followed from radiation poisoning, cancers, and other bomb-related complications. Note that the population of Hiroshima at the time was approximately 345,000 to 350,000 people, so roughly half of the city’s population was killed.

The ruins of the Atomic Dome, a former exhibition hall, now stand among modern buildings, which reduces the visual impact somewhat, but it’s still a sight to behold. It survived because the blast was almost directly overhead, subjecting the vertical walls to pressure almost directly downward, a physical stress that they could withstand. Almost every other building in central Hiroshima took a glancing blow from the blast wave and as a result was completely destroyed. Apparently, there is ongoing debate as to whether the dome should be preserved or demolished. My take is that it must be preserved. It’s historical and symbolic importance is just too great.

It’s definitely a somber place, or at least it should’ve been. Dave and I trade offensive humor constantly, but in this place, even we found it inappropriate to see tourists taking duckface selfies and kids in school groups posing and laughing in front of the ruins. I wonder what is being taught in their schools. Either they are unaware of the horrific significance of this place, or they are aware somehow unaffected by it.

Next to the dome is the Aioi Bridge, the intended target of the bomb because its distinctive “T” shape was easily identifiable from the air. Due to unexpected high-altitude crosswinds, the bomb missed its target by 240 meters (790 ft), exploding directly over the nearby Shima Hospital.

Our walk took us barely a block away, to this spot, the hypocenter. A simple granite monument lies up against the side of a building that is now the Shima Clinic. A tiny street with a monument marking the specific spot where one of the most important events in world history occurred. A turning point in human history. Are there any other specific spots in the world that even come close in terms the impact of events that took place there? The beaches of Normandy? Pearl Harbor? Dealey Plaza? The World Trade Center?

When we arrived, there was nobody there. One of the most important spots in human history, and it’s ignored, skipped, overlooked. With larger crowds at the nearby Atomic Dome, it occurred to me that moments like this separate the real history buffs from tourists. To me, this spot was very meaningful and moving. And having it to ourselves for a few moments made it even more so.

With apologies for perhaps the most inappropriate segue ever, we then went to lunch at the nearby and highly rated Nagata-ya. We started with gyoza that had a distinct lemon flavor. That’s when we learned that Hiroshima and the surrounding area is known for its citrus. Our “okonomiaki” (savory pancake) was topped with fried egg, meats, and veggies, and I had peach oolong tea to wash it all down.

After lunch, we continued our dive into history at the nearby Peace Memorial Museum. It has all the photos and artifacts and personal histories you’d expect, presented in dimly lit rooms with black walls. The content is heavy, it hits hard. Even in this museum, in some of the most grotesque exhibits, kids aged 10-14 in school groups were giggling and running around. That left me feeling very unsettled.

The exhibits, the graphic imagery, the inscriptions on the walls, the photo captions, and the comments in the guestbooks all seem to convey the same message: War is bad and peace is good. While true, it’s an overly simplistic take on this moment in human history, one that is complicated and nuanced in ways that make it impossible to reduce it to such simplicity. To attempt to do so, to imply that there is never a reason to make war, is irresponsible and even offensive. This museum, and perhaps even the education of these young Japanese children, doesn’t provide an honest take on Japan’s role in the conflict. Not once is Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor or other atrocities in China and Southeast Asia mentioned, not once is Japan’s wartime aggression discussed. I’m not saying that these historical details completely justify the use of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima, but they should at least be part of the conversation.

If the museum is meant to emphasize Japan’s suffering and suggest that Japan was an innocent victim, that’s one thing. But if it’s meant to educate and encourage moral reflection, it should allow visitors to wrestle with questions like:

• what was Japan’s true role in World War 2?
• Why was the bomb dropped on Hiroshima?
• Was there an alternative to the bomb?
• Would a land invasion have been worse?
• Why was Hiroshima chosen?
• How should we balance military necessity with humanitarian cost?

In the nearby National Peace Memorial Hall for Atomic Bomb Victims, I found some text in a display that reads, “…on December 8, 1941, Japan initiated hostilities against the US, Great Britain, and others…” That’s it, the only place where Japan’s role in the war is alluded to. And even there, it is vague.

Dave has an appreciation for history like I do, and he seems to share many of my opinions. I’m glad I was able to experience all of this with him. In one calendar year, Dave and I visited both Pearl Harbor and Hiroshima. That’s incredible.

Back to hotel to relax and consider dinner options. Somehow, Dave was craving sushi again, so we just went to the sushi restaurant in the Hilton. The man likes sushi.

Throughout dinner, our sushi chef sniffled, snorted, coughed into his hand, and wiped his nose. This set off Dave immediately. Patient Zero’s courses were good, though they may have come with a helping of COVID-19. More sake-fueled laughs.

Then back out again for some photos of the Atomic Dome at night. Nobody around. A completely different experience.

And then we finished our night off with a short bar crawl through Hondori. The district has Dotombori vibes, with lots of alleys, bright lights, and karaoke bars. Walking around, we saw signs and ads for the Hiroshima Carp baseball team. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me think that this city has more pride for its hometown baseball team than just about any other Japanese city we visited.

KeMBY’S, a highly rated bar, was nearly empty. Mac Bar, we couldn’t find. We found a sign for Southern Cross but couldn’t figure out which floor it was on. Going up and down the coffin-sized elevator to try to figure it out didn’t help.

We tried a few more spots. The Shack and Molly Malone’s were big, American-style bars with a few people inside, but no energy. Just like in Osaka, we see crowds on the streets, but no one seems to bring the fun inside. Even on a Friday night.

At this point, we had been walking around for so long that I had to pee so bad that I produced a rather elaborate pee-pee dance, much to Dave’s amusement. Finally found a little restaurant to duck into and relieve myself. That may have been the most satisfying moment of the trip.

I hate to take the L on this, but the nightlife here in Japan has been a big disappointment. Not being able to find places or finding them nearly empty has been very frustrating. And a lot of the Japanese-style bars are tiny, 5- or 10-seaters, hopelessly filled with a line out the door or completely empty. It hasn’t been very fun for us.

Tomorrow, we take a ferry to a nearby island, Miyajima, to see its famous torii gate on the water and do some light hiking.