I once met a man from Hiroshima who, as a boy, was sent out of the city by his parents to stay with some relatives in the countryside. They’d figured it was only a matter of time until the Americans started bombing it. One morning shortly after he arrived he saw an “oddly shaped cloud” rising in the distance. It contained the ashes of his mom and dad. I did not mention that I’d gone to school with the grandson of the man who’d piloted the plane and at that particular college we had been trained to do the exact same thing again if ordered. That grandson went on to command a nuclear bomber squadron.
Ed's Replacebook 