A+Japanese+mother+of+three+sons+living+in+HiroshimaBlock+D+Sem+II+2011

Rin Suzuki



**Name**: Rin Suzuki **Age**: 34 in 1937. Born on December 2, 1903. **Gender**: Female **Occupation**: Worker at a cotton factory. **Appearance**: Prominent facial structure/bones, pale skin, dark hair. **Location**: Hiroshima **Personality/Quirks/Unique Personality Traits**: Independent, detests cruel treatment of women, caring, shows little pain, headstrong, does not trust others easily **Family**: **Husband** Ryuu Tatsukichi **Brother** Mitsuo Suzuki **Three** **sons** Daiki Tatsukichi July 9, 1919 (18 in 1937) Sora Tatsukichi March 31, 1921 (16 in 1937) <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Haru Tatsukichi September 17, 1932 (5 in 1937) <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">**Education:** Did not complete high school <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">**Languages**: Japanese <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">**Main concerns at this time and in life:** Making money, supporting family, looking after youngest son, worrying about two grown sons who were drafted into the military.



<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">**June, 1937**

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">//Damn//. Today, another blade pierced my thumb. I watched the droplet of blood slowly form on the dirt covered surface of my skin. I bit my bottom lip to stop the scarce feeling of pain from traveling to the rest of my hand. Foolish of me. My hands ached to an extent where I no longer knew the meaning of pain, I suppose. I reluctantly kept working, of course, what other choice did I have? Another nine hours of my day spent at the cotton factory of Hiroshima. During the first session of work, I sat endlessly on a wooden chair and scanned the picked cotton for dirt and filth: spot, pick, cut, remove, spot, pick, cut, remove. For the latter half of my dreaded session, I was ordered to spin the cotton until I could spin no more.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I often curse the world for leaving me stranded in this terribly hot, suffocating, and disgusting factory, however, I am also content. I cannot complain when I was the one who brought this lifestyle upon myself.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Outrageous. I remember, years ago, when I saw those filthy old soldiers falling all over my dear friend Umi with their grimy hands, I knew she had lost all dignity and hope. Her eyes were no longer bright and shiny, instead they were dull and listless. What could I have done? At the mere age of 17, I could do nothing but watch her get led away by those dogs. With tears in my eyes, I grabbed little Daiki<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;"> and Sora's hands and walked away, never looking back, determined to make money for my own family in a way other than prostitution.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I don't know. While I was working in the factory today, I was in, yet, another daze. Perhaps if I were to have followed Umi and left my pride, then maybe I would be living in luxury. No…**no**. Ever since I left that dreaded bastard, I refused to sell my body; I've come to despise all men. It was an arranged marriage! How absurd. I do not know if I will ever be able to forgive my parents, marrying me off to an ignorant jerk when I was only 16. After my parents had gotten the money Tatsukichi promised them, I never saw them nor my brother Mitsuo ever again. Tatsukichi was handsome, I must admit. But he thought nothing of me except as a piece of meat. How humiliated I felt when I heard him stumbling home in the middle of the night with three or four different women every week. He constantly abused me verbally, claiming that I was an unworthy wife for refusing his so-called affection. When he offered me to his friends, that was the last straw. I took Daiki<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;"> and Sora and fled, leaving Tatsukichi behind for good. That damned son of a gun.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">At first, being a single woman in Hiroshima with two children during the 1920's was hard to cope with. I was looked down upon everywhere. I resorted to working as an onset geisha. However, the shame and mortification I felt drove me to a cotton factory, where I was fortunate enough to find work until today.

Daiki<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;"> and Sora grew up under my watch. I hope I was good enough for them. Just a couple of years back, Daiki<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;"> was taken away from me when the Japanese government drafted young men to send to Manchuria. It was only weeks later when Sora was engulfed by the Imperial Army. Although I pleaded them not to go, my sons gallantly agreed to become involved in order to support me financially. The government bribed them with money, they knew that my boys would agree to anything if it would help me. Unwillingly, I sent off my boys with a kiss and hug and as heart wrenching as it was, I did not shed a single tear. These boys have never seen me cry, and I wanted to show them that they could overcome whatever sorrows they would face in the near future. I was torn into pieces, but I yielded a poker face in front of my third son, Haru. Haru, just a child, was stricken with fear and I needed to stay strong for him. The government had taken away the happiness in my life. Even if it was to advance Japan's power, did they have to take my boys? Take away the joys of my life?




 * <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">June, 1939 **

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Japan's economy is dying, I can tell. I guess I can tell because it is the people like me who get hit the hardest with the changes in the country. More and more troops from Japan are being sent to China and more and more troops are needed to boost the defense of our country. But who will support these troops? Who is going to provide the money for these troops? I guess we are. Rather than the government making up for their own lost charges, we are the ones paying the debts of the country. Normally I wouldn't mind because I do love my nation, but these obligations are getting far out of hand. It was extremely unjust when I was forced out of my home to exercise evacuation drills and bucket relays for extinguishing fire.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I was in the factory when an ear-deafening alarm I had never heard of before rang repeatedly, rocking the whole region, creating a ruckus. The managers hurried out like ants, ushering us, the workers, outside and in a single file line. //What is going on?// I heard hundreds of voices murmuring, some whimpering, no one knowing what was to happen next. We were then taken along a long, winding dirt path that was tucked away in the far eastern end of the factory. Past the wires, past the farms, we walked and walked until we reached the mountains. My feet were sore and ached for comfortable shoes. The blithering heat cut into our skin and the sun scorched our heads. Uniformed officers were surveying our group and walked alongside us. I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he knew what was going on. Without even glancing, he muttered the words, "evacuation drill". Evacuation drill, huh. For a country that spends almost all of its budget on defense, we were issued to practice evacuating? Nonsense. As soon as we reached the place of evacuation, we were ordered to collect buckets of water and form a chain. We were to perform a bucket relay in case there ever was a fire. It took all I had not to retort and rebel. Buckets were passed along for minutes, perhaps hours. I started to wonder if this were to ever end. I wondered how long it would take before the newly formed cuts and blisters were to disappear. When we were sent back, I walked with an ill feeling that left a sour taste within my mouth. I could taste the bile and I bit back my tongue to stop me from shouting any profanity.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">It was just yesterday when our boss lowered our wages for the third time in the past two months. I gathered up the courage to ask him why because I was furious. The payment was hardly enough to sustain a manageable lifestyle. I yelled at him, unafraid to lose this job (he needed me anyway, I was the only one around here who basically knew the factory in and out) and demanded an answer. He simply stated that the government issued a rationing system of food and clothing that forced him to save money. That was it. He brushed me off like I was nothing, as if the lives of the workers didn't matter, as if we were all working mules.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I came home last night feeling like the factory was an industry worked by animals. //Us being the animals.//



<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">**March, 1942**

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Fight. Conquer. Expand. This is what our country has come down to. It was just a little over a year ago when we ran the British out of Hong Kong and took it for ourselves. No mercy was shown. The government even sent troops to Indochina and defeated the French people there. Japan was basking in its glory days.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I was weaving through the streets after shopping to vegetables today when I saw traces of confetti stuck in the cracks of the road. Pieces of red, silver, and gold were struggling to free themselves and fluttered in the breeze. This confetti was from mid January, when our troops successfully conquered Burma. The streets were wild with joyous celebration.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">In the midst of all the celebration and victories, old or recent, why do I still feel so...uncertain? Are we allowed to be taking so much power? Are we in any position to rule over the latter half of East Asia? Are we, the Japanese, doing the right thing? Perhaps it’s just my constant worrying about Daiki and Sora that is getting in the way of the triumph I should be feeling.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">On one note, I do feel somewhat at peace because of the fact that I have received a letter from Daiki. Thankfully, he told me that he had met Sora and the two of them were to be stationed in Manchuria together for a short while. He wrote about his determination and fears. //“I’m glad you’re not here Mom, the battlefields are like hell on Earth.”// My dear boys, I do hope they are doing well. There are nights when I lay awake wishing that I could hold them in my arms and smother them with love. I worry about them perpetually, not a day goes by where I do not wonder "//what if Japan never decided to go out and conquer the world?"// We were all happy before the warring periods; why make us suffer so? I imagine that they are both stick thin right now, I mean, our government cannot even support us, how can I expect our troops to have it any better? I pray that my sons will be able to come home once again with a smile on their faces after facing the ghastly events of war. I pray that they will one day be able to come home to a hot bowl of my udong and we could all eat as a family, just like the olden days.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Not only has the government torn my children from me, they have also made another absurd decision to pass the National Mobilization Law of April 1938. This was a while ago, and honestly, when I had first heard about it, I had no idea what it meant to me. That is, until late 1941. 1942 was just around the corner when my manager had abruptly shut down the factory one cold afternoon. After much confusion, we were told that some of us were to be dispatched to a military factory. A military factory. Thousands of Japanese and workers were to be transported from one factory to another, all herded like animals. It was demeaning.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Horrible. Absolutely terrible. I cannot even fathom the hatred I felt for the government at that point. I had become so accustomed to the cotton factory; I had no other choice but to call it my second home. After being sent to an electric power plant in northern Hiroshima, I knew that the years to come would be unyielding. I was ripped from my friends in the cotton factory and I had to start from scratch in the new plant. It was humiliating. They spoke to me and treated me as if I were a child. It was dehumanizing. And yet, I am able to bear it because of my friend Akane Ninomiya. I had met Akane on the first day of work in the new factory; she dealt with the harsh conditions of the factory with me and we quickly became acquainted. We often talked of our children and the hopes we had for them back when Japan was a thriving country. She wanted the best for her daughter, Erika, as I, for my sons, but our nation seems to be failing us.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">It is evident that the government is testing our loyalty to our country. They are taking advantage of our unconditional love for Japan and using it to fuel their expansion. Don’t they see that Japan is becoming torn apart in order to make room for those other countries? I highly doubt that the other countries will be able to commit to the sophisticated ways and lifestyles of Japan. Are we making a wise choice?



<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">**August, 1945**

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">//“Mama!”// <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">//“Haru? Haru! Where are you?”//

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I woke up that day sweating, gasping for air. I remember telling myself that Haru was at school, that it was just a dream. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I remember looking at the clock, 8:10, //Haru must have started school by now//. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I remember making my way towards the kitchen, reaching for a glass of water, when the ground shook and the glass fell. //What the hell was that?// <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I remember that the ground was shaking violently, everything was crumbling down before me. I ran out of the house towards the school. //Haru?!// <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I remember the smoke. The smoke was everywhere; it blurred my vision. I could not even see my own two hands stretched out in front of me. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I remember people were screaming, crying. Their cries of anguish still haunt me today. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I remember arriving at the school, half of the building in flames. I remember screaming my son’s name, over and over again. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I remember finding him, huddling in the corner, face burnt and charred. I remember kissing his tears away as I told him that everything would be ok. Everything was not ok.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">This was just over two week ago, on August 6. Currently, Haru and I found shelter in a medical ward. Haru is stricken with terror and I fear for his health. Around us, there are thousands of victims of the atomic bomb; thousands of victims, but only 13 doctors.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Government officials were in a flurry of panic as they tried to calm the public. Yes, the public where half the population was suffering from radiation. It’s ridiculous. I knew that Japan would suffer a fate such as this. We were all getting too cocky with our power; we didn’t use it wisely, and now the worst has come for us.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">The Americans dropped a bomb on Hiroshima as well as Nagasaki. Hiroshima, when compared with the world, is so small, and yet as of now, it seems as the the whole world is in ruins.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I no longer know what to do. Before the attack on Japan, I had control over my life. I could predict what would happen tomorrow, and I was able to face each day without fear. But now... I’m horrified. I don’t know if I will be able to survive. I live for Haru and my sons. That is, if my sons are even alive. Every night in this heart wrenching clinic, I lay awake, listening to the sniffles and whimpers and groans of everyone suffering.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I do not know how Haru and I managed to escape the radioactive rays. I remember running, running without stopping, determined to save my child.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">I miss Sora and Daiki. I wish they were here to help me. Their old mother needs them right now. I am in a numb state of mind. Everything I do, everything I see, it does not register in my mind. I look over the wastelands like I am soulless. I feel nothing. I try to write to my sons, yet I cannot grip a pencil. I recently wrote to Akane and asked about Erika―she was like the daughter I never had. In spite of that, I stumbled across my words and wrote a near pathetic letter. I am in a living hell. There seems to be no hope for Japan.



**<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">Works Cited **

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">"Atomic Bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki." //Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia//. Wikipedia. Web. 07 June 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atomic_bombings_of_Hiroshima_and_Nagasaki>.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">"The First Indochina War (1946-1954)." //The History Guy: A Resource for History, Military History, Politics, and Biography//. Web. 07 June 2011. <http://www.historyguy.com/indochina_war_first.htm>.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">"Hiroshima Before the Bombing." //TOP//. Web. 07 June 2011. <http://www.hiroshima-spirit.jp/en/museum/morgue_e11.html>.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">"Japanese Economic History 1930's." //Emayzine 2001//. Web. 07 June 2011. <http://www.emayzine.com/lectures/JAP1930.html>.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 110%;">"Women." //OLD PHOTOS of JAPAN//. Kjeld Duits. Web. 07 June 2011. <http://oldphotosjapan.com/en/category/women/>.