So far from the bamboo grove pdf download

My first air raid experience, and Father was not home! I felt very insecure.Д®ven with the war upon us, my parents insisted that I continue with all my special lessons, not only calligraphy but The Way of TeaГўВЂВ”an art of serving and receiving teaГўВЂВ”flower arrangement, poetry writing and reading, and Japanese classic dance lessons. My hands were still shaking from handling the shovel, and I could not hold the brush steady. When I did get home I was exhausted, and I could not concentrate on my calligraphy lesson. When the all-clear sounded I wanted to go home, but we continued to dig. My heart raced, and, face down, I breathed heavily, my breath scattering the dirt around my mouth. Enomoto yelled at me to put my head down. I had never seen an airplane, but when I looked up, I saw clearly: American planes in formations of three flying over us. Enomoto, shouted, ordering everyone to flatten on the ground.

The alert siren burst out our teacher, Mr. We were digging when our first air raid alarm came. We learned which siren was an alert and which an all-clear. I huffed and puffed, just wrestling with the shovel. I was given a shovel, but the handle was much taller than I and heavy. The pupils began digging ditches around the school in case an air raid came and we had no time to get home. Besides emergency items she put in important papers such as our health records, insurance policies, and even report cards from school. He said these should be left at the main entrance so that if a raid came we could each grab our own and run to the shelter.ДЇor herself Mother prepared a huge double wrapping cloth. He also told us to pack emergency rucksacks, with rice, dried fish, a mess kit, some changes of clothing, and a blanket each. It's wartime.вЂќ He sent Ko and me to find tall thin bamboo shoots and tie strings around bundles of them, to make a cover for the shelter. Whenever Father came home, he and Hideyo worked, digging a shelter in the thicket large enough for the whole family to crawl into. Mother often said she did not like killing, and I felt I was helping the army kill people, even though they were our enemies. For part of our school day we would do labor service for the army, collecting empty cans or going to the ammunition squadron to sort flawed bullets from large boxes, wearing stiff army gloves.

So far from the bamboo grove pdf download