ABSTRACT
On August 6, the author went to wind drums, while she stayed home because she had been told that she was on duty for ration distribution. But they later told her that after all she was not on duty, so she rushed to the warehouse after eight o’clock. Though the air raid alarm had been cancelled, she heard an airplane, and she was looking up in that direction as she walked. The moment there was the flash, it felt as if thickly mixed paint was thrown at her, and she thought that heaven had fallen. At that instant, she was burnt from face to shoulder to navel. Our oldest son Mutsuzumi, behind her on a tricycle, did not seem to be burnt as badly.
