Hiroshima Bombing From Three Different Perspectives

The following three stories are from the perspectives of Scientist Otto Frisch, Sergeant Robert Caron, and Survivor Futaba Kitayama. You will get more information on these people later on. The event in which this is focused on is the Hiroshima Bombing.

Dropping Death: Sergeant Robert Caron

 By: Srinikesh Gundumogula

This is a story of Sergeant Robert Caron, the tailgunner of the bombing crew of the Hiroshima Bombing, which signified the end of World War II. A tailgunner is a person who guards a military plane at the back of the plane. Sergeant Caron was also a photographer, and his job was to take photos of the Hiroshima Bombing.

BOOM! The black, metal, shining bomb exploded midair, just before it hit the ground. The impact of the explosion instantly shattered houses and robbed thousands of people of their lives across a radius of what seemed like a mile. Before I could observe the devastating damage any further, a colossal, gray mushroom cloud enveloped the Japanese city and rose upward at the speed of a rocket, but somehow like a nasty living thing that squirmed its way into the atmosphere and blocked view for miles around.

.   .   .

It was now 2:30 a.m. on August 6th, 1945. The freezing, crisp air bit into my skin, forcing me to shiver involuntarily. The surrounding darkness made me uneasy, but I did not show my fear to my captain and crew. We were preparing to take-off for Hiroshima, and the strong yet delicate bomb, which had been named “Little Boy,” was precariously loaded onto the plane. Although I knew that the bomb had already been tested, the fact that I was about to drop the bomb on an unsuspecting city just a couple of months after it had been tested sent shivers up my spine. A small voice in my mind doubted the reliability of this bomb, and I wondered if the bombing would fail. I pondered about the second bomb, dubbed “Fat Man,” which was going to be dropped on the Japanese city of Nagasaki only three days after “Little Boy” had been detonated.

Snapping back to the present, I watched as the four-ton bomb and the detonation device were loaded and secured on the B-29. After this had been finished, Tibbets proceeded to prepare the crew.

“Okay, everyone. Get onto the plane and into your positions,” Tibbets commanded with a strong voice. “Also, Robert, don’t forget to record the bomb explosion,” he added after everybody had walked aboard the plane.

“Yes, sir!” I replied confidently, ignoring the chilling wind that pierced my cheeks as the vicious wind howled. With purpose, I strode onto the silver-plated plane and proceeded to head to the back. Once I was situated, I picked up my camera and hung it around my neck. As soon as I placed my communication headset over my ears, a confident voice resounded through the speakers.

“Is everybody ready in their stations? This is going to be a long flight,” Tibbets inquired. I could hear him shuffling in the background, probably setting the plane up for takeoff.

“Yes,” the crew and I almost responded in unison, anxious to take off and get the bombing over with.

“Alright then. Buckle your seat belts because we’re about to take off,” Tibbets’ gruff voice responded firmly.

As soon as he had finished speaking, the sleek B-29 plane, with the phrase “Enola Gay” painted on the nose, suddenly jerked forward, unbalancing me for a second before I recovered my composure. As the plane made its way for the runway, I gripped the tailgun, knowing that this aircraft could be viciously attacked at any moment, even in the dead of night.

The plane reached the runway and picked up speed, zooming across the wide, black road. Through the window, I could see the dark buildings pass by quickly, becoming a blur as the plane slowly sped up.

A couple of seconds later, the plane began to quickly take off, and I could see the land below me rapidly grow farther and farther apart from me. I was well aware that this was going to be a six-hour flight, but the time in the back passed by so quickly. The only thing I had to look at outside were the puffy white clouds as we zoomed away and the rising sun casting golden rays across the plane. The rays eventually, at one point, cast a glare across my window, forcing me to involuntarily flinch and blink my eyes a couple of times. Without me even realizing it, I began to slowly drift off, my eyelids fluttering heavily with sleepiness.

.   .   . 

Suddenly, a blaring voice that resounded through my headset made me jolt to attention.

“Crew,” Tibbets ordered through the speakers, “prepare the ‘Little Boy’ for landing!” He said the words “Little Boy” with a hint of humor in his voice. Instantly, I could hear shuffling near the middle of the plane as the crew prepared to drop the devastating bomb on the unsuspecting Hiroshima. As the sounds of shuffling ceased, Tibbets again reminded the crew, “We are almost at the dropping site. Get ready to drop the bomb in thirty seconds.”

I waited, my whole body tense and rigid, for this was the most important part of the mission. I gripped the tailgun until my knuckles turned white, fearing that anybody would attack the plane, but surprisingly, none came.

“3….2….1… Drop the bomb!” Tibbets yelled through the headset. As soon as he had finished speaking, I could hear the shaft being opened, and the plane gently lifted up as the heavy weight of the bomb fell off the B-29. I could see tiny, colorful specks of people scattered across the bombing site on a bridge across a river. As the bomb dropped to the ground, I got ready to let the crew know when to detonate it. The shining, gray bomb fell even closer to the ground, and I thought about how the scientists who made the bomb felt and what most of them thought of being tricked by the flimsy name “The Manhattan Project," which was the name of the project that was building the atomic bomb in Los Alamos, New Mexico. I also knew that the bomb couldn’t have been made without the scientist Albert Einstein, since he had discovered the science crucial to creating the atomic bomb.

Snapping back to the present, I yelled through the speaker, asking the crew to detonate the bomb, driven by fear of mistiming.

“Detonate the bomb, crew!” Almost instantaneously, the sound of the explosion was brought up to me.

BOOM! The black, metal, shining bomb exploded midair just before it hit the ground. The impact of the explosion instantly shattered houses and robbed thousands of people of their lives across a radius of what seemed like a mile. Before I could observe the devastating damage any further, a colossal, gray mushroom cloud enveloped the Japanese city, rising upward at the speed of a rocket but somehow like a nasty living thing, squirming its way up into the atmosphere, blocking view for miles around.

I brought my memory-filled, precious camera to my face and snapped a picture of the devastating cloud of doom. As the plane zoomed away, the gray mushroom cloud rose to a higher elevation than I was flying at. The sight of it terrified me, and I was saddened at the thought of the number of people who died from the devastating explosion.

"Sergeant, is everything okay back there?” The sudden and booming voice startled me, almost forcing me to let go of my camera.

“Yes, commander. We might want to pick up speed because the cloud of the explosion is expanding farther by the second and may damage the engine,” I replied through my headset as I placed my camera down and gripped the tailgun.

"Sure thing, Sergeant,” Tibbets answered. I could feel the plane jerk forward as he accelerated the plane away from the chaos.

As the plane zoomed away, I knew that this day would be remembered forever, whether it was for the good effects or the bad effects. The good result would be that World War II might end, while the negative outcome would be that Hiroshima would be non-colonizable and forever destroyed. I knew that no matter how far I traveled or how old I grew, this day would be engraved in my memory forever.