Survivors’ Stories: Fumie Yoshida, 95, Higashi Ward, Hiroshima City After losing her father and sisters, she vowed to live, supporting her mother, who cried with her daughter’s skull in her arms
Sep. 16, 2024
by Kyoko Niiyama, Staff Writer
Fumie Yoshida (née Hayashi), now 95, lost three members of her family, her father and two sisters, in the atomic bombing. Although overwhelmed by grief, Ms. Yoshida and her mother lived by supporting each other. Around 60 years after the atomic bombing, Ms. Yoshida began to share her atomic bomb experience in the hope that “no one else will face the same kind of suffering we did.”
In 1945, Ms. Yoshida, then 16, was a fourth-year student at Hijiyama Girls’ High School (now Hijiyama Girls’ Junior and Senior High School), living with her parents, older sister and younger sister, a family of five. She was mobilized to the Ozu factory of Chugoku Haiden (located in present-day Minami Ward), where she made parts of a switchboard for submarines.
On the morning of August 6, she left her home in Futaba-no-sato (now part of Higashi Ward) for the factory as usual. Her father, Raijiro, then 50, saw her to the front door. “He was usually still in bed. As if by premonition, it became the last conversation I had with my father,” Ms. Yoshida said.
Shortly after starting work at the factory, about four kilometers from the hypocenter, she felt an intense flash and ducked under her desk. After a while, when she turned her eyes outside the building, she saw people running away, dragging their dangling skin which looked melted by burns.
Ms. Yoshida ran for her life with her classmates and made it to Nigitsu Shrine near her home (now in Higashi Ward), which was crowded with evacuees. There she met her mother, Akiko, who had escaped by crawling out from under her completely destroyed house.
On August 7, Ms. Yoshida went out alone to look for her older sister, Suzue, then 19, who was working at the Chugoku Military District Headquarters located on the grounds of Hiroshima Castle (now in Naka Ward). Numerous charred bodies lay on the side of the road. Feeling weak in the knees from “an eerie silence and the fear of nothing moving,” she turned back.
Her younger sister, Yukie, then 7, had been pinned under a fallen thick beam at home (about 1.8 kilometers from the hypocenter), and died. “But she had no injuries on her body and looked like she was sleeping.” Ms. Yoshida and her mother carried Yukie to the East Drill Ground near their home. They could only watch as her body was thrown into a pile of corpses and engulfed in flames.
A few days later, Ms. Yoshida and her mother went to the burned ruins of the Chugoku Military District Headquarters. Suzue’s boss was there and told them where her desk was. When they dug with their bare hands, many bones came out. Akiko held the skull in her arms and broke down crying.
“Mom, don’t worry. Let the two of us live together,” Ms. Yoshida told her mother. Since her father, who had gone to work in Eba (now part of Naka Ward), was missing, she thought, “I have to support my mother.”
They lost their home and spent nights in the open on the grounds of the shrine for over a month. Later, they could stay in the shed of her mother’s friend, who helped them.
Thanks to her mother’s hard work at the factory, Ms. Yoshida could graduate from Hijiyama Girls’ High School. After finding a job, she married at the age of 26 and had two children. On the 60th anniversary of the atomic bombing, she decided to write her memoirs to tell people that “such a family once lived.” She shares her atomic bomb experience with the students who visit Hiroshima on a school trip several times a year.
Her wish—no one else will face the same kind of suffering as we did—was passed on to Sanae Matsui, 66, her second daughter who lives in Minami Ward, when she was appointed by the city as a “Hibakusha Family Member Legacy Successor” this summer. Together with her daughter, Ms. Yoshida is passing on to the next generation the proof that three members of her family who died in the atomic bombing were once alive.
(Originally published on September 16, 2024)
Fumie Yoshida (née Hayashi), now 95, lost three members of her family, her father and two sisters, in the atomic bombing. Although overwhelmed by grief, Ms. Yoshida and her mother lived by supporting each other. Around 60 years after the atomic bombing, Ms. Yoshida began to share her atomic bomb experience in the hope that “no one else will face the same kind of suffering we did.”
In 1945, Ms. Yoshida, then 16, was a fourth-year student at Hijiyama Girls’ High School (now Hijiyama Girls’ Junior and Senior High School), living with her parents, older sister and younger sister, a family of five. She was mobilized to the Ozu factory of Chugoku Haiden (located in present-day Minami Ward), where she made parts of a switchboard for submarines.
On the morning of August 6, she left her home in Futaba-no-sato (now part of Higashi Ward) for the factory as usual. Her father, Raijiro, then 50, saw her to the front door. “He was usually still in bed. As if by premonition, it became the last conversation I had with my father,” Ms. Yoshida said.
Shortly after starting work at the factory, about four kilometers from the hypocenter, she felt an intense flash and ducked under her desk. After a while, when she turned her eyes outside the building, she saw people running away, dragging their dangling skin which looked melted by burns.
Ms. Yoshida ran for her life with her classmates and made it to Nigitsu Shrine near her home (now in Higashi Ward), which was crowded with evacuees. There she met her mother, Akiko, who had escaped by crawling out from under her completely destroyed house.
On August 7, Ms. Yoshida went out alone to look for her older sister, Suzue, then 19, who was working at the Chugoku Military District Headquarters located on the grounds of Hiroshima Castle (now in Naka Ward). Numerous charred bodies lay on the side of the road. Feeling weak in the knees from “an eerie silence and the fear of nothing moving,” she turned back.
Her younger sister, Yukie, then 7, had been pinned under a fallen thick beam at home (about 1.8 kilometers from the hypocenter), and died. “But she had no injuries on her body and looked like she was sleeping.” Ms. Yoshida and her mother carried Yukie to the East Drill Ground near their home. They could only watch as her body was thrown into a pile of corpses and engulfed in flames.
A few days later, Ms. Yoshida and her mother went to the burned ruins of the Chugoku Military District Headquarters. Suzue’s boss was there and told them where her desk was. When they dug with their bare hands, many bones came out. Akiko held the skull in her arms and broke down crying.
“Mom, don’t worry. Let the two of us live together,” Ms. Yoshida told her mother. Since her father, who had gone to work in Eba (now part of Naka Ward), was missing, she thought, “I have to support my mother.”
They lost their home and spent nights in the open on the grounds of the shrine for over a month. Later, they could stay in the shed of her mother’s friend, who helped them.
Thanks to her mother’s hard work at the factory, Ms. Yoshida could graduate from Hijiyama Girls’ High School. After finding a job, she married at the age of 26 and had two children. On the 60th anniversary of the atomic bombing, she decided to write her memoirs to tell people that “such a family once lived.” She shares her atomic bomb experience with the students who visit Hiroshima on a school trip several times a year.
Her wish—no one else will face the same kind of suffering as we did—was passed on to Sanae Matsui, 66, her second daughter who lives in Minami Ward, when she was appointed by the city as a “Hibakusha Family Member Legacy Successor” this summer. Together with her daughter, Ms. Yoshida is passing on to the next generation the proof that three members of her family who died in the atomic bombing were once alive.
(Originally published on September 16, 2024)
