Somethin that may be seen as either pretentious or...well I don't know exactly what else.
|-July 18th, 1945
It's been well over four months since I've seen my older brother arrive back from the war. Even though it seems hard to believe, its likely he's been long since dead. The fool...I willingly volunteered to fight in the war myself in order to protect him along with mother and our younger brother, yet he insisted that I go home while he participated in what is essentially suicide ! I don't know how the others will react when I tell them that Jiro is dead, but...I guess it's worth a try. After all, there was nothing that could've been done by either us or his fellow comrades.
-July 20th, 1945
The family was devastated after hearing that Jiro had died. But what do they know, they've always been protected and sheltered from the harshness of reality. They're not the ones who risked their lives for a worthless cause. They didn't fight for their idiotic country that sees nothing more than sustaining it's "honor" in its power hungry eyes. I know firsthand that war isn't something that should ever be taken as "fighting for a country" under any sort of circumstance, and by what ? By ending countless lives and causing massive amounts of destruction and sorrow amongst those who didn't even participate ?! War may be nothing more than a human being's natural longing for power by any means necessary, but that doesn't mean the slaughtering of hundreds should be seen as "winning" some sort of childish contest.
(The next four pages were to damaged to read).
-July 25th, 1945
Everyone's still sore about the loss of Jiro, and...to tell the absolute truth I'm beginning to see and feel the impact of our loss in a more..."profound" way. I mean, I'm not even sure how to describe it. It just feels like.. sort of an empty feeling ? After I wrote my previous entries, I'm starting to think that maybe if I didn't bother asking to participate in the war, Jiro would maybe still be alive. I'm starting to appreciate just how good a man he was. His overall outlook and attitude was something that has certainly started to become noticeable for me. Well, at least....
(The rest of the page, along with several others, were severely withered).
-August 8th, 1945
I just heard that Hiroshima was blown nearly to smithereens two days ago by some sort of new bomb the U.S has devised. Yet despite this great catastrophe, there are still thousands of people who are willing to fight till the bitter end ? I just can't believe these men ! If they didn't worry so much about "winning" back their "honor" after their several defeats, then the whole city would still be standing ! All I'm hoping is that it doesn't become too severe and that my family will be safe. I could honestly care less about my life.
-August 9th, 1945
I went outside to tell my younger brother to come in only a few minutes ago, and...I'm already hearing the sound of planes hovering over us. I'm so scared right now, not for myself but rather my family. My mother and younger brother are all that I have left, and I can't even imagine what could be carried on those planes. My emotions are just running amuck right now... I-I'm not even sure what I'm writing. I just hope that......
(The journal ends off there. These very few entries are the only ones that, miraculously, weren't either scorched or destroyed by the vast explosion of the bomb. Everything and everyone else however... were evaporated right after the explosion occurred. This is the only object that managed to survive it to some extent.)