‘I thought the sun had fallen': What a nuclear bomb survivor taught me
'There was a blinding flash of light before my eyes,' says survivor Seiichiro Mise, recounting the moment the atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. 'I thought the sun had fallen in front of my house.'
It was 11.02am 80 years ago, on August 9, 1945 when the plutonium-based bomb – codename Fat Man – was detonated by the United States, killing at least 40,000 people immediately, and almost that number again from radiation poisoning.
'Later, I heard voices coming from the school gymnasium, crying – give me water, give me water,' says Mise, who was 10 years old at the time. 'It was a terrifying picture of hell.'
Entering the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum, with its displays of burnt clothing and poems by grieving parents, is a different shade of hell. Who knew that bodies could be vaporised or human shadows scorched onto pavement? Or that today, the global inventory of nuclear warheads stands at more than 12,000?
It's day six of our 15-day Far Eastern Horizons cruise from Hong Kong to Tokyo aboard Viking Venus; while some guests have chosen to visit the old town or learn about Arita pottery, I've joined a half-day excursion to learn more about this pivotal moment in world history.
Days before docking in Nagasaki, I attended lectures by Viking's resident historian on topics as diverse as the 'nuclear weapons race in the lead-up to World War II' and 'America's foreign policy in action'. Billed as the 'thinking person's cruise', it's reassuring to see that Viking holds a mirror to the hardest truths.
It had all felt so distant, until Mise steps to the podium and demonstrates how he'd jammed his thumbs in his ears and shielded his eyes with his fingers. 'The smell of people burning has never left me,' he says.
While most 90-year-olds are taking it easy, Mise – alongside other survivors known as hibakusha – continue to show up every day, sharing with visitors stories about what they'd endured. 'We are activists,' he says. 'Our goal is to see a world free of nuclear weapons.'
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The Age
18 hours ago
- The Age
‘I thought the sun had fallen': What a nuclear bomb survivor taught me
'There was a blinding flash of light before my eyes,' says survivor Seiichiro Mise, recounting the moment the atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. 'I thought the sun had fallen in front of my house.' It was 11.02am 80 years ago, on August 9, 1945 when the plutonium-based bomb – codename Fat Man – was detonated by the United States, killing at least 40,000 people immediately, and almost that number again from radiation poisoning. 'Later, I heard voices coming from the school gymnasium, crying – give me water, give me water,' says Mise, who was 10 years old at the time. 'It was a terrifying picture of hell.' Entering the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum, with its displays of burnt clothing and poems by grieving parents, is a different shade of hell. Who knew that bodies could be vaporised or human shadows scorched onto pavement? Or that today, the global inventory of nuclear warheads stands at more than 12,000?
Sydney Morning Herald
18 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘I thought the sun had fallen': What a nuclear bomb survivor taught me
This article is part of Traveller's guide to luxury cruising. See all stories. 'There was a blinding flash of light before my eyes,' says survivor Seiichiro Mise, recounting the moment the atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. 'I thought the sun had fallen in front of my house.' It was 11.02am 80 years ago, on August 9, 1945 when the plutonium-based bomb – codename Fat Man – was detonated by the United States, killing at least 40,000 people immediately, and almost that number again from radiation poisoning. 'Later, I heard voices coming from the school gymnasium, crying – give me water, give me water,' says Mise, who was 10 years old at the time. 'It was a terrifying picture of hell.' Entering the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum, with its displays of burnt clothing and poems by grieving parents, is a different shade of hell. Who knew that bodies could be vaporised or human shadows scorched onto pavement? Or that today, the global inventory of nuclear warheads stands at more than 12,000? It's day six of our 15-day Far Eastern Horizons cruise from Hong Kong to Tokyo aboard Viking Venus; while some guests have chosen to visit the old town or learn about Arita pottery, I've joined a half-day excursion to learn more about this pivotal moment in world history. Days before docking in Nagasaki, I attended lectures by Viking's resident historian on topics as diverse as the 'nuclear weapons race in the lead-up to World War II' and 'America's foreign policy in action'. Billed as the 'thinking person's cruise', it's reassuring to see that Viking holds a mirror to the hardest truths. It had all felt so distant, until Mise steps to the podium and demonstrates how he'd jammed his thumbs in his ears and shielded his eyes with his fingers. 'The smell of people burning has never left me,' he says. While most 90-year-olds are taking it easy, Mise – alongside other survivors known as hibakusha – continue to show up every day, sharing with visitors stories about what they'd endured. 'We are activists,' he says. 'Our goal is to see a world free of nuclear weapons.'
The Advertiser
2 days ago
- The Advertiser
Living to 107: salt, a little scotch and doing your own thing
Clara (Win) Follett is turning 107 years old. Her secret? Salt and a little bit of scotch. "Good food is the main thing; we didn't have sweets and ice cream and all this muck," she said. "Work hard, use your brains, don't do what other people do, do your own thing." Sitting with her daughter, Sandy Owens, at Mayfield Aged Care, Mrs Follett reminisced about her childhood on a sheep farm in Merrriwa. Born on August 18th 1918, as Clara Winsome Collins, most called her Win from a very young age. The youngest of eight, with five brothers and two sisters, Mrs Follett spent her early years riding horses and hunting rabbits. "I didn't play with dolls, I played with hammers and saws and things my brothers played with," she said. "When I was 18, I used to roll my father's cigarettes, back when they had real tobacco." The 106-year-old hasn't smoked since the 1960s, but she busted out the cigarette rolling skills a few years ago, and turns out, she still has it. "She hasn't lost her touch," her daughter said. At the age of 10, Mrs Follett started school in Muswellbrook, but she skipped a few grades. "I knew more than the other kids, all my brothers and sisters had taught me," she said. After World War II, she married her husband, Albert Kinglesy Follett, in Muswellbrook. Thirteen years her senior, Mr Follett had grown up in Scone on a dairy farm. The couple settled on a dairy farm at Meadows in the Adelaide Hills district with their two children, Daryl and Sandy. After a few years, they travelled in a small caravan pulled by their trusty Holden from Shepparton in Victoria to Brisbane. Eventually, they bought a block of flats in Port Macquarie, in an area surrounded by vegetable gardens and rural properties. Once the children moved out, the couple jetted off overseas in the 1970s, visiting Italy, Greece, Portugal and the south of France before they settled in their last home together in Nelson Bay. "She lived in her Nelson Bay house until she was 102," Mrs Owens said. "She was mowing the lawn until she was 97 and still driving." The almost-107-year-old has four grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren. Clara (Win) Follett is turning 107 years old. Her secret? Salt and a little bit of scotch. "Good food is the main thing; we didn't have sweets and ice cream and all this muck," she said. "Work hard, use your brains, don't do what other people do, do your own thing." Sitting with her daughter, Sandy Owens, at Mayfield Aged Care, Mrs Follett reminisced about her childhood on a sheep farm in Merrriwa. Born on August 18th 1918, as Clara Winsome Collins, most called her Win from a very young age. The youngest of eight, with five brothers and two sisters, Mrs Follett spent her early years riding horses and hunting rabbits. "I didn't play with dolls, I played with hammers and saws and things my brothers played with," she said. "When I was 18, I used to roll my father's cigarettes, back when they had real tobacco." The 106-year-old hasn't smoked since the 1960s, but she busted out the cigarette rolling skills a few years ago, and turns out, she still has it. "She hasn't lost her touch," her daughter said. At the age of 10, Mrs Follett started school in Muswellbrook, but she skipped a few grades. "I knew more than the other kids, all my brothers and sisters had taught me," she said. After World War II, she married her husband, Albert Kinglesy Follett, in Muswellbrook. Thirteen years her senior, Mr Follett had grown up in Scone on a dairy farm. The couple settled on a dairy farm at Meadows in the Adelaide Hills district with their two children, Daryl and Sandy. After a few years, they travelled in a small caravan pulled by their trusty Holden from Shepparton in Victoria to Brisbane. Eventually, they bought a block of flats in Port Macquarie, in an area surrounded by vegetable gardens and rural properties. Once the children moved out, the couple jetted off overseas in the 1970s, visiting Italy, Greece, Portugal and the south of France before they settled in their last home together in Nelson Bay. "She lived in her Nelson Bay house until she was 102," Mrs Owens said. "She was mowing the lawn until she was 97 and still driving." The almost-107-year-old has four grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren. Clara (Win) Follett is turning 107 years old. Her secret? Salt and a little bit of scotch. "Good food is the main thing; we didn't have sweets and ice cream and all this muck," she said. "Work hard, use your brains, don't do what other people do, do your own thing." Sitting with her daughter, Sandy Owens, at Mayfield Aged Care, Mrs Follett reminisced about her childhood on a sheep farm in Merrriwa. Born on August 18th 1918, as Clara Winsome Collins, most called her Win from a very young age. The youngest of eight, with five brothers and two sisters, Mrs Follett spent her early years riding horses and hunting rabbits. "I didn't play with dolls, I played with hammers and saws and things my brothers played with," she said. "When I was 18, I used to roll my father's cigarettes, back when they had real tobacco." The 106-year-old hasn't smoked since the 1960s, but she busted out the cigarette rolling skills a few years ago, and turns out, she still has it. "She hasn't lost her touch," her daughter said. At the age of 10, Mrs Follett started school in Muswellbrook, but she skipped a few grades. "I knew more than the other kids, all my brothers and sisters had taught me," she said. After World War II, she married her husband, Albert Kinglesy Follett, in Muswellbrook. Thirteen years her senior, Mr Follett had grown up in Scone on a dairy farm. The couple settled on a dairy farm at Meadows in the Adelaide Hills district with their two children, Daryl and Sandy. After a few years, they travelled in a small caravan pulled by their trusty Holden from Shepparton in Victoria to Brisbane. Eventually, they bought a block of flats in Port Macquarie, in an area surrounded by vegetable gardens and rural properties. Once the children moved out, the couple jetted off overseas in the 1970s, visiting Italy, Greece, Portugal and the south of France before they settled in their last home together in Nelson Bay. "She lived in her Nelson Bay house until she was 102," Mrs Owens said. "She was mowing the lawn until she was 97 and still driving." The almost-107-year-old has four grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren. Clara (Win) Follett is turning 107 years old. Her secret? Salt and a little bit of scotch. "Good food is the main thing; we didn't have sweets and ice cream and all this muck," she said. "Work hard, use your brains, don't do what other people do, do your own thing." Sitting with her daughter, Sandy Owens, at Mayfield Aged Care, Mrs Follett reminisced about her childhood on a sheep farm in Merrriwa. Born on August 18th 1918, as Clara Winsome Collins, most called her Win from a very young age. The youngest of eight, with five brothers and two sisters, Mrs Follett spent her early years riding horses and hunting rabbits. "I didn't play with dolls, I played with hammers and saws and things my brothers played with," she said. "When I was 18, I used to roll my father's cigarettes, back when they had real tobacco." The 106-year-old hasn't smoked since the 1960s, but she busted out the cigarette rolling skills a few years ago, and turns out, she still has it. "She hasn't lost her touch," her daughter said. At the age of 10, Mrs Follett started school in Muswellbrook, but she skipped a few grades. "I knew more than the other kids, all my brothers and sisters had taught me," she said. After World War II, she married her husband, Albert Kinglesy Follett, in Muswellbrook. Thirteen years her senior, Mr Follett had grown up in Scone on a dairy farm. The couple settled on a dairy farm at Meadows in the Adelaide Hills district with their two children, Daryl and Sandy. After a few years, they travelled in a small caravan pulled by their trusty Holden from Shepparton in Victoria to Brisbane. Eventually, they bought a block of flats in Port Macquarie, in an area surrounded by vegetable gardens and rural properties. Once the children moved out, the couple jetted off overseas in the 1970s, visiting Italy, Greece, Portugal and the south of France before they settled in their last home together in Nelson Bay. "She lived in her Nelson Bay house until she was 102," Mrs Owens said. "She was mowing the lawn until she was 97 and still driving." The almost-107-year-old has four grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren.
