Introduction

Part 3 Rescue and Medical Relief

Section 3 Medical Relief Activities

Chapter 1:Activities of Medical Institutions in Nagasaki City

1. Akunoura Mitsubishi Hospital
2. Urakami Daiichi Hospital
3. Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital
4. No. 216 Temporary Military Hospital
5. Nagasaki Medical College Medical Relief Team
(1) Nameshi Temporary Relief Center
(2) Mitsuyama Medical Relief Team



Immediately after the atomic bomb explosion, Nagasaki City Medical Association personnel and other relief workers initiated medical relief activities from the area neighboring the hypocenter zone. The main first-aid stations in the old part of Nagasaki were the Shinkōzen and Katsuyama Elementary School Relief Centers, while those in the district on the other side of the river were Inasa Elementary School, Mitsubishi Hospital (Main Hospital) and Goshinji Temple. In the northern part of Nagasaki, private houses in Hiramune (present-day Nameshi 1-chōme) were used as emergency clinics. In this area, the family of a veteran military doctor made outstanding efforts.
 As little as one or two hours after the explosion, Nagasaki Medical College personnel began treating the injured on the hillside behind Nagasaki Medical College Hospital. The staff of Urakami Daiichi Hospital (site of a former seminary) worked in a room that had remained unburned; the staff of Mitsubishi Hospital Urakami Branch worked in air-raid shelters in the Zenza-machi area.
 Four or five hours later, as the first relief party, the Isahaya Naval Hospital Relief Unit began treating the injured at Irabayashi Elementary School. The Ōmura Naval Hospital Relief Unit and National Obama Clinic Relief Unit (going by the name Obama-chō Relief Unit) entered the hypocenter zone and took an active part in relief activities.
 Thus, from immediately after the atomic bombing, dedicated relief activities were conducted in and around the hypocenter zone. However, the situation was such that the activities were limited to only part of the area. Under the worst possible circumstances, which involved frequent air-raid alarms and flyovers by enemy planes, the arrival of relief units was delayed. For this reason, the start of full-fledged medical relief activities was also delayed until August 10, the day after the atomic bombing. From that day, many navy and army relief units and relief teams from in and outside Nagasaki Prefecture, including relief teams from various universities, managed to reach the devastated area and to actively conduct relief activities. With regard to the organization of navy and army relief units, it seems that natives of Nagasaki Prefecture were preferentially selected to serve as officers and health officials, as well as the soldiers enlisted to work under their orders. The following is a description of the navy and army relief units, university relief teams, and relief teams from in and outside Nagasaki Prefecture mobilized to work in the devastated city.

1. Akunoura Mitsubishi Hospital

Before the atomic bombing, there were four Mitsubishi-related companies with factories in Nagasaki, i.e. the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Shipyard, Mitsubishi Nagasaki Arms Factory, Mitsubishi Nagasaki Steelworks, and Mitsubishi Nagasaki Electric Works. The Mitsubishi Hospital in Akunoura-machi meanwhile was geared mainly for the treatment of Mitsubishi employees and their families. Affiliated hospitals, called the Funatsumachi Branch Hospital and Urakami Branch Hospital, operated in Funatsu-machi and Mori-machi, respectively. However, the Funatsumachi Branch Hospital was destroyed by fire after the atomic bombing, leaving only an outer wall, and the Urakami Branch Hospital was also demolished and gutted as a result of the atomic bomb.
 The Mitsubishi Hospital, located approximately 3.5 kilometers from the hypocenter, was the only surviving institution, but most of the medical equipment was destroyed by the blast and the hallways littered with glass splinters piled up like snow.
 Immediately after the atomic bombing, all hospital staff carried out an emergency evacuation. When they regained their senses, the injured were already coming in, one after another, drenched in blood.
 Since the main Mitsubishi Hospital in Akunoura was the principal medical institution for Mitsubishi-related companies, which had tens of thousands of employees, it received requests to dispatch medical units from every Mitsubishi factory affected by the atomic bombing. However, the hospital was not prepared to meet such a demand. Over time, some of the surviving staff were finally able to give aid to the injured at the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Electric Works and other facilities.
 The following are excerpts from the memoirs of Ōbayashi Haruo, assistant director of the hospital at the time, and Kanemitsu Yasuo, a physician at the same hospital:

Several stretchers were being rushed into the hospital. We ran for the hospital too, assuming that quite a few people had been injured.
 In the operating room, more than 10 injured people were groaning, lying on the floor side by side. While we treated them, more injured people came walking on crutches one after another, and others were carried in on stretchers. By evening, there was no space to walk without stepping on an injured person. There were children with broken hands, a woman with a crushed head, factory workers with countless glass fragments sticking into the skin all over their bodies, and burn patients with skin peeled back, revealing dark red flesh...
 Information on the situation in Nagasaki began to arrive. The sight in the direction of Urakami area was disastrous. It was said that the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Arms Factory had been annihilated, and that most of the workers, including executives, had died on duty. Messengers from the defense unit headquarters asked us to dispatch a relief team to Urakami. Although we immediately responded to the request and sent a relief team, the team trudged back several hours later, saying that it had been impossible to get near the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Arms Factory, because the site was a sea of flames.
 Day by day, the number of patients continued to rise. Not a single bed was vacant in the wards; we transferred patients with relatively slight injuries to Akunoura Elementary School, which had been prepared as a temporary hospital. Meanwhile, at the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Electric Works, 70 injured people were suffering in an air-raid shelter. We could not just leave them untreated. Since our hospital was an arsenal and hospital, and we were prepared for a long battle, sufficient medical and sanitary materials had been secured. Since all lifelines including electricity, gas and water supply had been severed, however, we could not sterilize the medical equipment. This was a serious problem.
 In those days, there were branches of Mitsubishi Hospital in Urakami and Funatsu-machi. The Urakami Branch had completely collapsed and burned, and the Funatsu-machi Branch had also completely burned, and as a result all their patients gathered at our hospital.
 With air-raid sirens going off frequently every day, we had to repeatedly go in and out of the shelters. It was no situation in which to calmly perform operations. With many fatalities, at least one doctor had to devote himself to writing death certificates. Since most of these patients had sustained severe burn injuries, it took a long time to change their bandages; the doctors’ rounds started early in the morning and did not end until late in the evening. Patients complained of pain from the maggots infesting and aggravating their wounds, which had been inadequately sterilized in midsummer with temperatures over 30˚C. It took a long time to remove the maggots. For a patient with burn injuries all over the body, the process could take more than one hour.
 Patients complained of thirst. With no water coming out of the taps, we had to go out and draw spring water. We made the rounds of patients’ rooms holding large kettles full of water in both hands. The patients refused to let go of the kettles. To complete the rounds of the wards, we had to fetch spring water several times.
 Over time, many patients died, moaning in agony over the heat and suffering loss of hair, spots all over their bodies, vomiting and bloody stools. It was a grievous situation that made us painfully aware of the limits of the available medications. Quite a large number of seriously injured people could not even tell us their own names. The nametags sewn on the breasts of their work uniforms had been scorched along with their clothes, and were of no use.
 The stench of death wafted into the hospital from bodies that had gone unclaimed.
 The war ended on August 15. There were no more air raids. However, we received notice that women should evacuate because of the stationing of enemy troops. All female nurses, office workers and cooks disappeared. Even several female nurses who were over 60 years of age asked the hospital director Dr. Igarashi to let them go. Only men remained in the hospital. Doctors and orderlies had to do everything from applying bandages to disposing of feces, and the efficiency decreased significantly. Male office workers were engaged in meal service. In that situation, meal service meant making rice balls twice a day and delivering them to the patients’ bedsides; that was the only nutrition we could provide. About one week later, under these horrific circumstances, the number of female nurses and workers who returned to work gradually increased. I felt relieved to hear them say that they had returned out of worry over the plight of the injured.
 The roof of the hospital was damaged and the windowpanes had been blown out. With frequent heavy rains from the end of August, operations to drain water from the floors and corridors had to be added to our daily routine. In September, since patient congestion was significantly alleviated, we transferred patients to rooms with relatively fewer leaks in the roof. With lifelines including electricity and water supply restored, we were finally able to treat our patients under nearly normal conditions. 57

On August 9, the air-raid alert issued in early morning was changed to an air-raid alarm. Before long it was lifted, and I was relieved to take off my hot air-raid uniform and sit in a chair half-naked. As I took a deep breath and wiped away sweat at 11:02 – the hour that we would all come to know so well – I saw a blue flash in the northern sky and heard a strange thunderous noise. The next instant everything in the room was blown about. I instinctively jumped out of my chair and ran. One step ahead of me was Dr. Yoshioka, who fled from the room with his hands covering his head. I followed him, running down the corridor barefoot to an air-raid shelter. I realized later that so many pieces of glass were scattered in the corridor that no one could even walk through it barefoot. I found blood on my hand and touched my head to check the wound. It was not as serious as I had feared. All the people gathering in the air-raid shelter were overcome with trepidation. I tried to stay calm and to find out what had happened.
 I timidly left the air-raid shelter thinking that I could not just hide in the air-raid shelter forever, and that I had to discharge my duty as a physician, and I was taken aback at the devastation all around. The corridors had shattered glass piled up like snow. Doors had been torn off and blown away. Iron-framed windows had also been blown out.
 After awhile, the injured, drenched in blood, came to the hospital one after another. However, we could not treat them in that situation. I consulted with the internist Dr. Fukahori and the surgeon Dr. Take, who had just come out of the air-raid shelter; we decided to use the operating room to treat the injured. We hurriedly rearranged the desks, cleaned the floors, and made a passage for people. The hospital director was absent, having gone to attend a meeting at the company office. The assistant director Dr. Ōbayashi was taking a day off. The chief clerk Mr. Yamashita was also absent, having gone to see Dr. Yoshinaga in the hospital in Shiroyama. Dr. Fukahori, who had war experience, told me that in such a situation somebody had to serve as the ‘nerve center,’ and instructed me to stay there.
 Messengers all flocked toward the ad hoc headquarters. One of them asked for medical help because his manager had been injured by falling sand. We insisted that it was impossible because of the state of confusion at hand, but the messenger kept asking, ‘Then when will doctors and nurses be available?’ Even when we received a message from the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Electric Works saying, ‘We have many injured people. Please dispatch doctors and nurses immediately,’ we did not know where our doctors and nurses were. It was no wonder, because no one knew when the next bomb would be dropped. In addition, everyone assumed that the damaged area was limited to his or her immediate surroundings and that other places had been spared. We were at our wits' end when the hospital director returned to the hospital. Not only that, our assistant director came back, running from his home. We were truly relieved. However, the number of the injured at that stage was only a fraction of that to come.
 The situation with the injured began to change. Many people had sustained serious burn injuries. Any skin that had been exposed was all burned. Even the well-equipped Mitsubishi Hospital did not have enough medicine to treat these terrible burn injuries, and despite all the medical staff who had come out of the air-raid shelters, we were suffering from a lack of help. Messengers continued to come to our hospital one after another. All came to convey urgent requests for medical relief to deal with the many fatalities and countless casualties.
 Around sunset, we organized and dispatched an aid unit to the affected area. Both Dr. Yoshioka and Dr. Nagata were fretting over their own families’ safety but set out to treat the injured. Young nurses, who cheerfully bid us farewell in their anti air-raid clothes, were truly noble, especially when their destination was a sea of fire, a hell on earth.
 In the evening, we heard about the situation in Nagasaki from Dr. Fukuda of Mitsubishi Hospital Urakami Branch and other people who had miraculously emerged from the disaster alive.
 The Urakami Branch had collapsed and completely burned. The situation at both the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Arms Factory and the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Steelworks was too horrendous to behold. The urban area was still burning, and we were told that it was impossible to get through to the disaster area.
 There is a Japanese saying, ‘After the storm the sky is clear,’ but the storm of injured still continued when dawn broke. People who could walk to the hospital on crutches were in relatively good condition. A person who had been carried out of the disaster area might be the only happy individual among 1,000 people affected by the atomic bombing, because tens of thousands died instantly or while being left unattended. Many had died on the streets, with no one paying attention to them even when they begged desperately for help. Nagasaki Medical College, which was supposed to be the center of relief measures for citizens, had been completely annihilated. The utmost efforts of medical practitioners turned out to be only a drop in the bucket.
58

2. Urakami Daiichi Hospital

This redbrick three-story facility, located on a quiet hill in Motohara-machi 2-chōme approximately 1,400 meters northeast of the hypocenter, was a former Catholic seminary serving as a tuberculosis sanatorium during the war.
 The hospital, which accommodated 70 patients at the time of the atomic bombing, was ravaged by the blast, and most of its medical equipment and supplies were burned when the interior caught fire. Only the outer shell, made of brick, was left undamaged. The hospital was thrown into total chaos, with patients fleeing from the buildings in panic immediately after the blast. In the midst of this situation, hordes of injured people who had been exposed to the explosion at close range in the city rushed up the slope to the hospital.
 As a result of the complete destruction of Nagasaki Medical College Hospital, the Urakami Daiichi Hospital was the only medical institution left functioning in the Urakami district and the only place where the injured could seek some form of medical treatment in the wasteland.
 The following are excerpts from the “Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Report” written by Dr. Akizuki Tatsuichirō, director of Urakami Daiichi Hospital at the time.

Initiation of Medical Activities
 After the first night following the atomic bombing, the day broke on a rug spread in the hospital garden, upon which doctors, seminarians and nurses had slept in a row. ‘All right! Let’s get up.’ All got up all at once.
 The sky was clear. It was going to be another hot day. The happenings of the day before felt as if they had all been figments of a dream—a nightmare. It was a drastic transformation. Everything had changed.
 Although I was depressed, with my body battered, I desperately tried to regain my vigor. Urakami Daiichi Hospital had burned down. Medical instruments and medical supplies had all been reduced to ashes.
 There had been nearly 70 inpatients in the hospital, but they probably had no homes to return to. Dr. Kinoshita and Mrs. Tsujimoto, both of whom had suffered burns, were sleeping in the warehouse. Dr. Yoshioka had sustained injuries to his face, and Fr. Ishikawa was also seriously injured. Even with all the medical instruments and supplies burned and all the medical books lost, I was still a doctor, or at least I still had to try to be one.
 The people I had promised to treat were lying in agony. Where could I get medical supplies? How could I provide medication now?
 To tell the truth, I wanted to flee when I saw the crowds of sick and injured people. I felt chagrined at the loss of so many precious medical instruments and supplies. My duty bore on me like a nightmare.
 ‘Doctor, doctor!’ the seminarian Br. Noguchi cried. ‘Please come this way!’ I followed him to an underground passage below the kitchen. ‘It’s so hot in here. Are you all right?’ I said fearfully as I entered the underground shelter.
 Br. Noguchi proudly pointed deep inside the shelter toward two large wooden boxes. ‘That’s medicine!’ I said, dancing for joy and hugging Br. Noguchi with words of thanks.
 Continually thanking Br. Noguchi, I dragged the boxes from the shelter and opened the lids as calmly as I could. One look at the medicine and I knew that it would not be enough. It was only about 1% of the medical supplies stored at Urakami Daiichi Hospital. It was negligible. However, the few handfuls of gauze, antibacterial ointment and Mercurochrome that I removed from the boxes, however inadequate and insufficient, gave me some courage.

Medical Examinations
 At 8:00 a.m. on August 10 I began providing medical care in the still-smoldering ruins of Urakami Daiichi Hospital. It was a miracle that no one had died there as a result of the new-type bomb; the fact that we were able to begin providing medical care early the next morning was almost a miracle.
 Although I have never joined any particular religion, I started treating the injured with a feeling of thanks to God for what little medical supplies I had. That was my sincere prayer.
 The day before, I had promised to help Dr. Kinoshita, who was lying injured in the warehouse where rice bags had been stored. I applied antibacterial ointment to the burns on his face and the region from his shoulder to his chest and applied gauze. His burn injuries covered more than half of his body. The wounds were inflamed, and the pain was causing him breathing difficulties. I also treated the burn injuries of Ms. Tsujimoto, who was lying next to Dr. Kinoshita.
 Their burn injuries were so extensive and acute that the treatment took very long. They needed a lot of medicine, too. It was only two patients, but it was as complicated and time-consuming as the regular treatment of 20 outpatients.
 At this time a middle-aged woman came in, out of breath, crying, ‘Doctor, please take a look at our injured.’ Leaving many untreated patients behind in the hospital, I went out with the woman to see the injured.
 ‘A medical team came from Ōmura to Motohara-machi 1-chōme, the area below here, but left soon after,’ the woman said.
 ‘They were lucky. I can’t escape from this situation,’ I said to the lady, feeling loneliness and anger.
 ‘They must have seen a pile of corpses and been too frightened to stay there,’ said Br. Noguchi.
 The night of August 10 went by. We all slept on the grass. Everyone was worn out, especially the nurses Ms. Murai and Ms. Ogushi, who had been working for 24 hours. Wrapped in blankets, we slept outdoors in the hospital garden.
 I heard the roar of airplane engines from time to time. Trepidation overcame me. The critically injured must have thought that they were about to be killed when they heard those sounds.

The Injured Came Flocking to the Hospital
 At daybreak, a child was picked up by one of our staff members after crying all night for his dead mother. Our head nurse’s careful attention to the child turned out to be in vain. In the potato field ahead, a middle-aged man lay dead, burned black. He had probably reached there during the night.
 It was dispiriting just to think that I had to treat so many the injured, including patients, with only a handful of medical supplies.
 At dawn, the injured came in great numbers, probably thinking that they would be better off in a hospital with doctors. I established a clinic in a corner of the garden, close to the back gate. The clinic was just a hurriedly pitched tent with a large piece of fabric put up on four pieces of thick bamboo, which had been brought in by the parent of an injured person. Br. Noguchi brought desks and chairs formerly used by students and left unburned. The clinic was like a field hospital equipped with only tiny amounts of medicine, bandages and gauze. Kawano and I were engaged in treating patients. Nurses helped us while also having to cook rice and miso soup.
 Br. Iwanaga brought a woman and three children who had sustained severe injuries to the head and face. The mother was half-crazed, probably unhinged as a result of the terrible shock of the atomic bombing. Her eldest child, 13 years old, had a gaping wound in the occipital region, larger than my fist. Each of the children was in severe condition and could not be treated in ordinary ways. It took a long time to treat them. Without surgical equipment, stitching up the wounds was extremely difficult.
 Around noon, a military man walked by. Since he was wearing a brassard for military police officers, he must have been a top sergeant. Seeing me treating just a few of the injured, he yelled at me, ‘Why don’t you treat more people?’ It was so sudden that I could not understand what he was saying.
 ‘I’m doing my utmost,’ I replied.
 However, he yelled at me again: ‘People in this neighborhood don’t even know that you’ve established this clinic. All of them are going down the hill!’
 What an unreasonable thing. In this difficult situation, an officer scolded me and accused me of slacking off!
 I did not have any knowledge at the time about either radiation or neutrons. As I recall, many patients claimed that they were nauseous and their mouths felt inflamed, even though they had no burn injuries. I assumed that the symptoms were due to the fact that the patients had been living in air-raid shelters since the atomic bombing. Then many of them began to suffer bloody diarrhea. Their canker sores aggravated into bleeding gums and further into subcortical bleeding. The insides of their mouths turned purple in color. I shuddered to think that it might be dysentery. I had heard about outbreaks of dysentery on battlefields, in war-stricken areas and disaster areas. ‘If it is dysentery, this is going to be a catastrophe,’ I thought, but in fact it was far more serious than dysentery.
 Still, I had no idea what the cause of all these afflictions might be. Nobody could identify the culprit.

Motohara Relief Hospital
 The situation had changed, brutally and mercilessly, but despite the transformation evident in people and in the hospital, the sun rose again the following morning. I resented the fact that the sun came up as usual. The people around me, who had been sleeping silently outdoors night after night, felt sad when dawn broke.
 ‘It’s going to be a perfect sunny day again, right?’ With that, everyone began to consider what they should do that day in their respective stations.
 Kawano and I pulled ourselves together and set about treating the injured. Our only hope—the tiny supply of ointment, Mercurochrome, chloramine, gauze pads and bandages—was running short. Kawano went out in search of medical supplies. ‘Nagasaki Medical College was completely destroyed,’ he said, leaving for the city. ‘I‘ll get some burn injury medicine somewhere else.’
 In our clinic, the number of patients with minor injuries but strange symptoms like bleeding from the gums and bloody diarrhea had increased.
 ‘I’m bleeding like this because I inhaled poison gas,’ said one person.
 ‘Perhaps it is bloody flux or purpura,’ I said irresponsibly. In fact, what we were seeing was the first physical symptoms of radiation poisoning.
 The daughter of the Kinoshita family, who worked at Shiroyama Elementary School as a teacher, returned home breathing feebly, covered with mud and with wounds on her back from pieces of glass.
 It was the third day after the atomic bombing.
 I examined her back and found countless splinters stuck in her skin. There might have been 50 or 60 triangular or square-shaped pieces of up to one or two centimeters in size. Actually, they were impossible to count.
 The sharp edges of the glass had pierced the skin and stuck into the muscle. I grasped each piece of glass with tweezers in an effort to pull it out, but it was not easy. I had to use all my strength just to remove one piece of glass.
 The glass pieces had stuck deep into her muscle. I had never seen such wounds, with foreign material penetrating so deeply into the flesh.
 Mr. Takeuchi, the neighborhood association leader, visited us. ‘I hear that Urakami Daiichi Hospital has been designated a relief hospital,’ he said. The source of the rumor could not be determined.
 Trains were used to carry injured people from the Ōhashi-Sumiyoshi area to the cities of Isahaya and Ōmura. Although a ‘one-day first-aid station’ had been established in Yamazato Elementary School, thousands of injured were lying untreated in air-raid shelters throughout the Motohara-machi neighborhood. This was a problem.
 ‘Of course we need a relief hospital,’ I said, ruefully looking up again at the skull-like ruins of our hospital. ‘If this hospital hadn’t burned, it could have served as a good relief center.’ It was indeed a pity.
 ‘When will medical units come? Do their medical supplies belong to the army or navy?’ I addressed several questions to Takeuchi-san, but he did not know the answers.
 Shortly after noon, a guard unit of about 30 members led by two assistant police inspectors arrived at the hospital, apparently the guard unit from the Kawanami Shipyard on Kōyagishima. Mr. Takeuchi attended to them.
 ‘We are here on orders from our superiors to establish a relief hospital,’ said the two inspectors importantly. Standing before the inspectors, all strapping young men, I felt small and insignificant. A reinforcement unit with more than 100 members joined the 30 members of the guard unit to create the Kawanami Industries Volunteer Unit.
 The nearly 200 members broke into two teams. One team entered the burned-out hospital and cleared the first floor.
 The solid concrete first and second floors of the hospital building, each of which was 50 cm thick, were intact. The first floor was strewn with fragments of walls, ceilings, cabinets, medical supplies, machinery and bottles. The debris was piled up high, some melted and some smashed.
 Members of one team created a stretcher using two poles and a straw mat, and used it to clear the debris. Members of the other team also made stretchers and headed for Motohara-machi. After a while they returned, carrying several injured people on the stretchers.
 Members of the volunteer unit carried the untreated injured from air-raid shelters in the vicinity of Motohara-machi. ‘All right. One, two, three…’ Whenever the injured were carried in, we counted them at the entrance on the first floor of the burned-out hospital.
 People with burn injuries came to me. I saw some familiar faces from my neighborhood. With the injured carried into the hospital one after another, the count rose to almost 100. How on earth could that many people hide in air-raid shelters?
 The number of injured who were carried in exceeded 150. Every injury, contusion and burn was serious and affected the whole body. Some of the injured smiled in expectation of medical treatment.
 Around 3:00 p.m., when nearly 200 injured people had been carried in, one of the members reported to the leader, ‘That’s all the injured to be carried in!’ ‘All right, well done!’ answered the leader.
 I approached the leader and asked, ‘Who is going to establish a relief hospital? Where are you going to get medications?’ I was upset at seeing the seriously injured people who had been carried in here one after another.
 ‘You are in charge of this first-aid station!’ responded the leader, after all the work was done.
 ‘No! I am the only doctor here. How can I handle all of the injured here alone! No medicine is left. The medical equipment was all burned. This is a war-damaged area and I am a doctor of a hospital destroyed in the war. I can’t do it,’ I insisted, resolutely declining the order.
 One of the members ran outside and came back 20 minutes later with some medical supplies. ‘Please use these to take care of the patients,’ they said, handing me a package. Then they said, ‘good luck’ and left, all of them, including the leaders and members of the guard unit. Their last words were, ‘The relief hospital has been established!’ I, on the other hand, had been left with a handful of zinc oxide oil and iodine tincture to treat hundreds of moaning patients with serious burns and wounds.
 Over 200 seriously injured patients were lying on the floor. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that they were lying abandoned on the floor.
 Three hours had passed since the guard unit’s departure. The number of patients I had treated so far was less than 10. The rest of the untreated injured people amounted to almost 200. I was so slow that the injured became impatient and children cried out in frustration. At 10:00 p.m., I was still applying zinc oxide oil compresses to patients.
 One day when I returned to the hospital from an errand I found a naval doctor, accompanied by four medics, engaged in treating the injured. The doctor and medics continued the treatment, completely ignoring the nurses and me. Holding long tweezers with both hands, they wrapped the wounds with wide gauze pads soaked in yellow Rivanol solution. Their treatment never slowed and they were truly adept at the process. Seeing them, I felt admiration.
 The military doctors must have treated numerous patients with terrible burn injuries, like patients at military hospitals in Ōmura and Kawatana. After treating about 30 patients in approximately three hours, they said, ‘We’ve run out of supplies’ and quit the treatment. They were about to leave when I hurriedly spoke to the naval doctor: ‘The patients will suffer if you leave here once and for all. Please come back tomorrow or give me a truck to transfer the patients to better hospitals. If you can’t do either of those things, you can at least get me medical supplies!’ Before leaving, the naval doctor replied, ‘I can’t promise anything, but I'll do what I can for you.’
 The next day, he came back to the hospital. Although he did not show his feelings in his words or facial expressions, I believe that he sympathized with me as a doctor. He offered me what little medical supplies he could obtain, including Rivanol solution, potassium permanganate and long tweezers.
 ‘You should try to improve the conditions here, rather than transfer the patients to other hospitals,’ he said. ‘I don’t have enough medical supplies and equipment either, and what I bring is all too little…’ I owed him a debt of gratitude for his words and the courtesy he showed in coming all the way to the hospital.
 ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’ll do what I can to improve the conditions in this first-aid station.’ 59

3. Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital

Nagasaki City had prepared for disaster situations during wartime by laying out air-defense plans, establishing relief centers (first-aid stations) and work forces in each district, and also by conducting drills to educate each household and to rehearse for an emergency situation in which medical relief and accommodations would have to be provided for the injured.
 However, since the impact of the atomic bombing surpassed all preparations, measures could not be taken on the basis of the long-established plans and drills. Before the necessary personnel could be provided, the situation at relief centers became extremely chaotic with hundreds of people rushing in all at once. Since the relief centers in the hypocenter area had all been destroyed, people fled in great numbers to relief centers that remained unburned in the center of the city, particularly Shinkōzen Elementary School and Katsuyama Elementary School. The injured flocked to these two schools from far and wide, as well as to the first-aid stations established at Irabayashi Elementary School, Togiya Elementary School, Inasa Elementary School, Nagasaki Vocational School of Economics, Daikōji Temple, Goshinji Temple and Matsugae-machi Ōura relief center.
 After the fires had been put out in areas near the hypocenter, meanwhile, Yamazato Elementary School, Shiroyama Elementary School, Municipal Commercial School and the main building of Mitsubishi Nagasaki Steelworks served as makeshift relief centers and accommodated the injured. In addition, Akunoura Elementary School became a temporary accommodation for patients who could not be accepted at the Mitsubishi Hospital, and Zenza Elementary School was used as a replacement for the Nagasaki City Nagasaki Hospital.
 Military personnel such as soldiers injured while stationed in anti-aircraft units were accommodated at the unit headquarters in Minamiyamate-machi, the army hospital in Tokiwa-machi, and barracks on the skirt of Mt. Hoshitori. (Army personnel were later transferred to Saga Army Hospital.)
 The relief centers, which at first had been scattered around the city, were gradually integrated due to the inconvenience of meal delivery and treatment. Ultimately, Shinkōzen Elementary School became the only relief center remaining in Nagasaki. For many subsequent weeks, this relief center provided medical care as Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital.

Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital
 Located approximately three kilometers south-southeast of the hypocenter, Shinkōzen Elementary School had been damaged by the blast generated by the atomic bomb, windows smashed and furniture strewn about, but hundreds of injured people flocked there seeking shelter and medical treatment. Naruse Kaoru, chief of the Nagasaki City Defense Headquarters, was among the injured at City Hall and was rushed to this relief center, but there were already so many injured people there that there was hardly enough room for him to receive treatment.
 Relief operations were suspended there when fires broke out in the neighborhood and threatened to burn the school buildings, but the relief station luckily managed to escape the conflagration. The following is an excerpt from The Atomic Bomb, a record of events from the day after the atomic bombing (August 10) compiled by the Nishina Memorial Foundation.

Late in the afternoon of August 10, 249 members of the Hario Marine Corps Relief Team arrived and used the unburned Shinkōzen Elementary School as a billet (note: the Hario Marine Corps Relief Team report claims it was August 11). Members of the relief team cleared the second floor and piled broken desks and chairs in the north corner of one of the rooms.
 Three trucks from the same contingent arrived later fully loaded with medical supplies. (From the following day, the Hario Relief Team initiated activities in the three-story reinforced concrete office of the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Steelworks, where they established the relief headquarters. Most of the members transferred to this facility near Urakami Railroad Station.)
 Rumors that a relief team had been stationed in Shinkōzen Elementary School spread like wildfire, and crowds of people descended on the facility for help. We cleaned up rooms on the first floor, intending only to give simple treatment to outpatients. However, this was not nearly sufficient. In addition, in the area from Shinkōzen Elementary School to Nagasaki Railroad Station, there were large numbers of injured people who could not be left untreated. We had to place patients on the concrete floor, with no blankets or even straw mats, when they were accommodated at Shinkōzen Elementary School. Actually, we had nothing in the way of bedding. We arranged the injured in four rows, with their heads facing each other and soles facing each other. Approximately 60 people could be accommodated per room, totaling several hundred people from the first to third floors.
 On August 11, the military physician Captain Harada Yoshimichi arrived at Shinkōzen Elementary School as a member of the advance unit of the Sasebo Naval Hospital Takeo Branch.
 At that time, most of the patients were naked. Their clothes had been torn off and their burned skin peeled back, revealing crimson granulation. Their faces had been transformed to such a degree that we could not tell their gender. With no medical supplies or medications, we fetched ocean water from the harbor, sterilized it by boiling in a drum, and sprayed it over the patients with a watering can. On August 12, the main unit of the Sasebo Naval Hospital Takeo Branch, including 25 military doctors led by Colonel Ikemoto Kenzō and nurses arrived by train. They had planned to arrive in a truck fully loaded with medical supplies and other necessary goods, but the truck had broken down. Although they carried with them as many medical supplies and equipment as they could, it was not nearly adequate to treat the patients accommodated even in one room.
 On August 13 and 14, the situation at the Shinkōzen relief center became even more serious. The truck that was supposed to come from the Takeo Branch never arrived. Inpatients died one after another, and new patients were continually being carried in. Unaware that these people were actually suffering from exposure to radiation, we could only watch helplessly as their symptoms suddenly took a turn for the worse.
 The leading military physician Dr. Miake left for Takeo by train at dawn on August 15 to fetch medical supplies and other necessities. The supplies were loaded on a train along with 50 medical staff for dispatch to Nagasaki. Meanwhile, Dr. Miake loaded three operating tables, two sets of surgical instruments, charcoal braziers for sterilization, firewood, charcoal, blankets, bed sheets, laboratory coats, 20 stretchers, 25 boxes of gauze pads and absorbent cotton, medicine and splints on four trucks and left Takeo at 4:00 p.m. It was more like the transfer of a small hospital than merely the transport of medical supplies, but these were the kind of efforts necessary to establish a relief center in a school building with no medical facilities or equipment.
 The truck from Takeo Branch arrived at Shinkōzen Elementary School at 7:00 p.m. From that day on, a standard level of medical treatment became available to patients for the first time.
 The Shinkōzen relief center experienced several turning points on August 16. One was the arrival of the above-mentioned medical equipment and supplies; another was the arrival of replacement medical staff in the form of the second Hario Marine Corps Relief Team. Although the first team had continued activities from headquarters in the offices of the Mitsubishi Nagasaki Steelworks, circumstances compelled them to give up the office. As a result, the Takeo and Hario Units decided to amalgamate operations at the Shinkōzen relief center and to share responsibilities in running the hospital. The patients who had been lying on the ground or floor were transferred to newly installed beds. The hospital was equipped with an entrance for patients, reception, examination rooms for outpatients, operating rooms and inpatients’ rooms, with numbers on the doors and patients’ case histories recorded.
 The Shinkōzen relief center was now the Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital, admitting new patients everyday. The symptoms of radiation poisoning gradually became evident through the daily observation of patients, but how to treat them remained unknown. The symptoms unique to atomic bomb disease were progressing inside the patients’ bodies, but the doctors had neither experience nor access to related information. Every form of treatment was an experiment. We strove to save even one of the patients in critical condition; some of the medical staff even transfused their own blood into patients.
 The number of patients recorded from August 17 is shown in Table 1. The newly hospitalized patients spiked around August 20 because relief centers in other areas, including Togitsu and Nagayo, were integrated into Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital. Around August 25, when the number of newly hospitalized patients started to decrease, patients still living in air-raid shelters in the Urakami area were invited to come to the hospital.
 After August 21, the Nagasaki City Medical Association took charge of treating outpatients. Dr. Takao Katsumi, association director, dealt with the patients on a daily basis along with other staff.
 Most of the members of the Hario Relief Team returned to their original units on August 31, while those from the Takeo Branch returned to their own hospital on September 5, and after their departure it was decided that the Nagasaki City Medical Association would operate Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital.
 In addition, the academic investigation of atomic bomb diseases started at the end of August, and Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital became a meeting place for researchers from universities and other medical institutions.
 At the beginning of September, the American hospital ship USS Haven docked at Dejima Wharf in Nagasaki Harbor. On September 3, a group led by American military physician Dr. Beck visited Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital and observed an autopsy being performed by Kumamoto Medical College staff. Deeply impressed, the Americans provided new medicines including sulfaminum and penicillin and other medical supplies to Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital.
 The hospital became Nagasaki Medical College Hospital on October 6, and Professor Shirabe Raisuke assumed the post of hospital director. 60


Table 1 Number of patients at Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital

Date Outpatients Inpatients Newly hospitalized Discharged Fatalities
August 17 111
18 135 86 7
19 160 79 104 0 10
20 174 158 104 9 3
21 204 250 56 0 10
22 217 296 76 0 12
23 257 360 11 0 21
24 270 350 4 4 11
25 285 339 2 1 17
26 311 323 0 4 16
27 329 303 2 3 9
28 382 293 4 3 9
29 343 307 7 4 6
30 295 297 9 6 13
31 323 296 6 1 8
Total 3,991 3,936 370 33 154

Report by Hario Marine Corps Relief Contingent (figures excerpted as-is from original text)

Organizations that provided medical relief at Shinkōzen Special Relief Hospital:
Nagasaki Prefecture, Nagasaki City Medical Association, Nagasaki City Dental Association, Nagasaki City
Pharmaceutical Association, Sasebo Naval Hospital Takeo Branch Team (25 members), Hario Marine Corps
Relief Team (First Unit: 249 members, Second Unit: 239 members)
Japanese Red Cross Society Nagasaki Nurses Team and others (over 10 members)
Kyūshū Imperial University Medical School Sawada Internal Medicine Team
Kumamoto Medical College Department of Radiology, Pathology Team
Kyūshū Imperial University Radiology Class
Yamaguchi Prefectural Medical School Research and Treatment Team

4. No. 216 Temporary Military Hospital

Although Nagasaki Commercial College (present-day Nagasaki University, Faculty of Economics) was located only about 2.8 kilometers southeast of the hypocenter, the damage to buildings was relatively minor because of the shielding effect of Mt. Kompira. Even so, roof tiles were blown off, window shattered and equipment strewn around. After the atomic bombing, a relief center was quickly established there and hospital staff in the vicinity mobilized to treat the injured.
 On August 15, 107 medical and health care staff, including military doctors, designated the college for use as a military hospital and initiated activities the following day. (The medical and health care staff members were later reinforced, their number reaching nearly 200 by the time the report below was made.)
 The hospital had accommodated 395 injured people by September 2. The official report submitted on September 4 by the army physician Dr. Sasaki Yoshitaka, who served as the hospital director, is presented below.

Situation Report
 August 9, 1945. The atomic bomb attack on the areas including Urakami and Yamazato-machi in Nagasaki City instantly turned the northeastern area, one-third of Nagasaki City, into total ruins. Other areas also sustained serious damage, with considerable human and physical damage, as well as high attrition rates.
 This facility was temporarily established as a military hospital under the orders of Naval Headquarters on August 15. It is aimed at providing medical relief to war victims, with 107 medical staff including the hospital director dispatched to Nagasaki. The hospital has taken charge of 172 patients from the relief center operated at Nagasaki Commercial College by the Nagasaki City Medical Association. The staff members have been engaged in accommodating and treating the injured since August 16.
 Initially, the conditions of accommodation, clothing and meal delivery were extremely poor. These were quickly improved, the wards being repaired, clothing received from each unit stationed in Nagasaki City, and food supplied by the prefectural and municipal governments. Although the hospital has currently reached a tolerable state, the rooms accommodating patients had many leaks in the ceilings and cracks in the walls, which result in wind and rain leakage and a significant temperature drop during the nighttime. It took great pains to fix this situation.
 The initial medical staff has been gradually replenished thanks to the assignment of a Japanese Red Cross Society relief team. Currently, the hospital has no problem accommodating and treating the injured, with 199 medical staff including the hospital director and ample medical supplies.
 Of the 395 patients accommodated here as of September 2, 161 people died, 58 were treated and discharged, and 24 left of their own volition. The fatality rate, despite the meticulous efforts of attending medical staff and the use of up-to-date medications, suggests that a majority of the 148 patients currently hospitalized have a similarly poor prognosis.

The report continues with clinical and pathological data and views on the results of dissections, indicating that autopsies were performed at this hospital.

5. Nagasaki Medical College Medical Relief Team

In preparation for wartime emergencies, a medical relief unit comprised of 11 teams led by Professor Takase, general unit leader, was organized in Nagasaki Medical College. Several physicians, nurses and students were assigned to each team and kept on standby.
 The college had been designated to serve as the core of the medical relief system in Nagasaki, but the atomic bomb instantly destroyed the buildings and killed a large proportion of the physicians and nurses on duty, leaving the college in such a state that it needed to receive medical relief and was utterly unable to mobilize its own relief units. Feeling a sense of mission, several doctors, nurses and students who had managed to survive organized impromptu medical teams and worked to provide medical relief to the atomic bomb victims.

(1) Nameshi Temporary Relief Center
 At this facility, 16 members of the 6th Medical Relief Unit led by Professor Shirabe Raisuke provided medical relief to atomic bomb victims for a short period of time. The treatment of the injured lasted for one week from August 12 to 18. Dr. Shirabe Raisuke remembered the situation at the time of atomic bombing as follows:

On the morning of August 10, after carrying the college dean, Dr. Tsuno’o, and Professor Takagi on stretchers to the air-raid shelter behind the hospital, I decided to establish a temporary relief center in Nameshi, where my family had been evacuated during wartime, in consultation with Professor Koyano, who had escaped injury. Located to the northwest of Nagasaki, Nameshi was surrounded by mountains on three sides and had several hamlets including Hiramune, Shimoage, Terakawachi, Kinoshita, Kagehira, Nakagawachi and Kamiage at the foot of the mountains. Since Nameshi was only four kilometers from the university and a peaceful and quiet agricultural village with honest residents, I thought that we could safely provide medical relief there.
 In the afternoon, stepping on still-hot roof tiles and pushing my way through piles of corpses, I hurriedly returned to Nameshi, and made arrangements to borrow the front building of Nameshi Shintō Shrine and the half-collapsed building of the Iwaya Club, through the good offices of Mr. Kataoka, president of the local neighborhood association. The following day I asked the villagers to repair and clean up the temporary relief center and then returned to Nagasaki Medical College and examined the injured. I asked the military physicians Dr. Matsunaga Hajime and Dr. Akamine Kenjirō, who had graduated from the college and arrived to help deal with the situation, to take the injured to Nameshi. On the evening of August 12, they drove a motor coach, loaded with the injured and medications, to the relief center.
 We were able to secure the help of Assistant Professor Kido (then medical course professor), five students and nine nurses as staff members at the relief center. I asked the students to take up lodgings in the temporary relief center and the nurses in my leased house. As for the injured, I hospitalized Dr. Tsuno’o and Professor Yamane in the front building of Nameshi Shintō Shrine, and about 40 others, including students, in the public hall. However, they were not the only injured people. In my house, my eldest son Seiichi, who had suffered burns all over his body, was lying in bed, and dozens or even hundreds of other injured people had sought shelter in private houses. I also had to see them when asked to do so.
 It was so hectic that I could not even write down the name of each patient I treated. The number of patients I saw alone exceeded 100.
 The injured carried from the college had not only sustained serious injuries but were also suffering from high fever and acute diarrhea, and quite a few of them had bloody stools. We jumped to the conclusion that they were suffering from dysentery and transferred them to a corner of the room in an effort to quarantine them. Looking back on it now, it was quite an absurd thing to do.

After the End of the War
 Having gone several days without sleeping or resting, the able-bodied students and nurses were exhausted, even though the number of patients had fallen by half.
 I think that it was on August 17 that the situation abruptly changed and false rumors went around about the invasion of Japan by American forces. The rumors also had it that women and children would be in danger unless they immediately fled. The women and children of the village took shelter in the forest at Mt. Iwaya, bringing bedding and food with them. None could be seen in any house or in the road. The nurses also began to feel anxious, and they begged for a leave of absence, all at once. If something happened to them, I would never have been able to explain it to their parents. We decided to close the temporary relief center on August 18 and to transfer all our surviving patients to Shinkōzen relief center and Ōmura Naval Hospital. I felt very bad for the atomic bomb victims having to halt our medical activities and dissolve the unit only a week after its inception. It was a great pity from the perspective of a surgeon. 61

(2) Mitsuyama Medical Relief Team
 In the Mitsuyama district, a suburban area of Nagasaki, 12 members of the No. 11 Medical Relief Unit (physiotherapy section team), led by Assistant Professor Nagai Takashi, provided medical relief to the atomic bomb victims by means of traveling clinics. The implementation period lasted 58 days, from August 12 to October 8.
 The situation during the two months of activity and other data from the relief unit were compiled in a document entitled Atomic Bomb Rescue and Relief Report by the unit leader, Dr. Nagai Takashi, and submitted to the dean of Nagasaki Medical College. The following are excerpts from that report (Section 3, regarding the Mitsuyama Relief Team.)

Geographic Features
 The reasons for establishing a relief team in Mitsuyama are stated below.
 Since the valley runs to the east at a point north of the hypocenter, it was reasonable to assume that many injured people would flee to the area.
 Mt. Kompira and the plateau of Tenjiku Hill shielded the valley from the hypocenter. In addition, since the valley was located leeward of the hypocenter at the time of the atomic bombing, there would be no persisting radiation to further affect patients. This would make it convenient to observe patients. Moreover, the farming village where our relief team would be based had lost the market for its products due to annihilation of the city by the atomic bomb. This would allow us to provide for the nutrition of our patients, because we could obtain the village’s farm products, which had no other outlet. The main reason for selecting Mitsuyama, however, was the presence there of the old Rokumaiita Hamlet mineral spa, which promised to be effective for treating burn injuries. I wanted to test the efficacy of the spa on the patients. Under the circumstances, this was the only way remaining for us to demonstrate our capabilities as members of the physiotherapy section.

Transfer
 We left Urakami in the early morning of August 12, four days after the atomic bombing. The roads were still strewn with corpses, and moans emanated from the air-raid shelters nearby. A pungent stench hung in the air. Enemy planes frequently flew overhead. The people we saw on our way, many of them in bandages, were hauling their personal belongings. When we entered the valley of Mitsuyama, the scene before us changed completely: the brown, bleak wasteland of the hypocenter area changed into lush green mountain scenery. Everyone stopped and took a deep breath. Every breath I took seemed to gradually clear my body of stress. We found a house in the village of Kobagō Fujino’o, the former Kanayama Office, and decided to set up our base there for two months.

Start of Treatment
 We began treating the injured at 4:00 p.m. the same day. When I visited the neighborhood association president to ask him about the situation of the injured, I found him lying face-up with serious injuries. All he knew was that many local residents had been injured. So we made door-to-door visits. Every house was crowded with evacuees and included at least one injured person. Whenever we saw a mosquito net hung up in a room, we knew that it had been set up to repel the flies attracted to the wounds of the injured. We began our work in earnest, cleaning wounds, performing surgery, bandaging the injured, making notes on patients’ charts and giving families instructions on how to take care of the injured. It took until 10:00 p.m. to finish the rounds in Inutsugi Hamlet.
 On August 13, the scorching heat and the visits of enemy planes were still hampering our work. Whenever we heard the roar of engines, we had to take cover. Around the middle of the eight-kilometer route from Rokumaiita to Kawahira, we ran out of medical supplies. The head nurse and Ms. Tsubakiyama left for the ruins of Nagasaki Medical College Hospital hoping to replenish our supply.

Our Wretched State
 What could our medical team be compared to, as we walked along the desolate paths? We probably looked like a troop of gypsies down on their luck, having lost their homes, lodgings and everything except for the clothes on their backs.
 I was the leader, but I was walking unsteadily with a bandaged head, my right hand on a cane and my left hand on Ms. Tsubakiyama’s shoulder. Dr. Kiyoki was breathing hard and using a cane to support himself, enduring the pain in his chest from injuries suffered when buried under a pile of rubble. Dr. Se, vice leader, had a ghastly look about him. The diminutive female members of our group, including the head nurse, Ms. Hashimoto and Ms. Tsubakiyama, were all dressed in bloodstained work pants and carried baskets woven from reed leaves that were serving as doctors’ bags.
 On August 14, we made rounds in the villages on the side of the valley, including Azebettō, Kawatoko and Tobita. By sunset we could not walk without offering each other a shoulder, in pairs, due to hunger, fatigue and the debilitating effects of radiation poisoning. The mountain trail went up and down, making our progress slow and difficult. When we visited the houses of patients, however, the family members were invariably jubilant, and when we said goodbye, the sad expressions on their faces had disappeared. Just to see that was our driving force as we went further up the trail to the next doorway.
 In this way, the Mitsuyama Relief Team continued its work for the 58-day period from the time we left Urakami until October 8, and the area of activity expanded to other hamlets.
 The unit members had also suffered injuries in the atomic bombing. Some had escaped with only minor injuries due to the protection of concrete walls, but everyone, as might be expected, began to show the symptoms of radiation poisoning, including canker sores, lowered white blood cell count, hair loss, high fever and diarrhea. Some members could not move due to purulent wounds. Others fell ill one after another and were cared for all night long by their friends, who had returned from treating other injured people and then went again on rounds after dawn broke. By the time the members who had fallen ill got better and responded to treatment, the friends who had attended them fell ill. Working selflessly, the members bolstered each other’s strength mentally and physically, and then went out to treat others.
 After fulfilling its responsibility to complete a two-month-long period of activity, our relief team disbanded on October 8.
 I heard later that, in addition to the above-mentioned No. 6 and No. 11 Medical Relief Units, members of the No. 3 Medical Unit led by Assistant Professor Egami had gathered immediately after the atomic bombing and established a workplace in the fields halfway up Mt. Kompira. They worked until August 11, providing all-night treatment to the injured in cooperation with two students. It is likely that the other relief units organized by the Nagasaki Medical College were unable to engage in any systematic activity because of deaths, injuries and the collapse of unit leaders and members due to radiation poisoning.
62

___________________________
57 Ōbayashi Haruo, “Mitsubishi Hospital in the Atomic Bombing” in Genbaku zengo (Before and After the Atomic Bombing), edited by Shirai Hideo (1969), Vol.4. ^
58 Kanemitsu Yasuo, “The Atomic Bombing” in Genbaku zengo (Before and After the Atomic Bombing), edited by Shirai Hideo (1969), Vol.15. ^
59 Akizuki Tatsuichirō, Nagasaki gembakuki (Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Record) (Kōbundō, 1966), p.35-75. ^
60 Nishina Memorial Foundation (ed.), Nishina kinenzaidan hensan genshibakudan (The Atomic Bombs: Nishina Memorial Foundation Edition) (Kōfūsha Shoten, 1973), pp.105-8. ^
61 Shirabe Raisuke, Nagasaki bakushinchi fukugen no kiroku (Nagasaki: A Record of the Restoration of the Hypocenter Area) (Nihon Hōsō Shuppan Kyōkai, 1972), pp.102-3. ^
62 Asahi Shimbunsha (ed.), Nagasaki idai genshibakudan kyūgo hōkokusho (Report on Atomic Bomb Relief Activities at Nagasaki Medical College) (Asahi Shimbunsha, 1970), pp.69-76. ^