When the sun set over Japan on March 11, 2011, around 120,000 buildings and houses
had been destroyed and another two 220,000 severely damaged, most of them beyond
repair. Most train lines were at a standstill. Major roads linking northern and southern
Japan to Tokyo were out. Hundreds of bridges were down. Thousands of people were
stranded in elevators. In Tokyo five million people were on foot trying to get home as
were millions more in other parts of the country. Mobile phone services were out. From
Aomori in the northeast to Chiba Prefecture in the south, 800 kilometers of coastline lay
in ruins. Smoke billowed from the Chiba oil refinery. Sendai Airport was littered with
smashed planes, helicopters, and cars. Industry had been wiped out. Six gas and coal
power stations were damaged and inoperable. Over thirty million people were without
water, gas, or electricity. Fires burned in towns and mountains along the coast. Hundreds
of thousands of people were homeless and 28,000 dead or missing. Families had been
torn apart with parents dead and children missing. Hospitals were overflowing with the
injured.
Although death and destruction had befallen the country, the Japanese people
acted calmly, orderly, and politely. There was no looting or rioting, no honking of horns
in traffic jams, no panic or screaming. Department stores in Tokyo opened their doors so
people could sleep and rest. Some even served them instant noodles, and reports later said
that nothing had been stolen. People opened their hearts to the needy. Their culture and
ideals shone like a beacon of hope through the darkness. For anyone who watched, it
brought tears to their eyes.
**
Mr. Saito reached the remains of the town just at dusk. He had traveled by bicycle,
knowing most of the roads would be damaged. He had passed large areas that had been
laid waste by the tsunami. The harbor, the train station, and all the houses one kilometer
inland had been completely destroyed. He had come across a dead woman near a love
hotel and taken her drivers license, her name Risa Kato.
He made his way to the emergency shelter that was set up in the community
center. The droning sound of a diesel generator filled the air, and people were rushing in
and out of the entrance. The mayor was an old childhood friend, having gone to school
together and spent summers hiking, swimming, and fishing. They had even dated twin
sisters together when they were in high school. Inside, the emergency center was bustling
with action. People were running from room to room carrying documents and manuals.
Others were either talking or trying to talk on mobile phones, while some were in heated
debates. Injured people lay in the corridors awaiting transportation to hospitals. He asked
a young woman, who was rushing down the hallway, where he could find the mayor, and
she pointed to a room two doors down.
The mayor sat surrounded by a group of men who were examining a map that
lay sprawled across a grey metal desk.
Saito cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Mr. Mayor!” he said in a loud voice.
Everyone turned and stared at Saito.
“May I have a word with you in private? It’s concerning the Daiichi plant.”
A murmur of protest broke out amongst the men and one said, “We should be
present at all meetings concerning the power plant.”
The mayor, a chubby, round-faced man with a receding hairline and thick black-
framed glasses, looked at Saito. “What do you know? We have received reports that
everything is fine and that the reactors went into cold shutdown after the earthquake.”
Saito’s expression hardened. “I’ve been there and seen the damage.”
There was an interlude of silence.
“How bad is the damage?” asked the man who had protested earlier.
Saito explained what he had seen, and raucous accusations about TEPCO
erupted.
“I knew we couldn’t trust them!” one man said.
“Pack of liars!” shouted another.
“More of their cover-ups!” spat another.
“Quiet!” roared the mayor and turned his attention to Saito. “What else?”
“I’d like to talk to you in private,” he said, staring hard at the man who had
protested.
“Everyone wait outside,” ordered the mayor, motioning to the door.
“But–” the man tried to protest.
“Outside! Now!” barked the Mayor, getting out of his chair.
The men quickly scurried outside.
The mayor closed the door and gestured for Saito to sit. “Good to see you. Hope
your family is safe?”
“They’re fine. They’re on a holiday in Okinawa,” he replied.
The mayor’s eyebrows arched. “Lucky for them!”
“Yes, they are very lucky to be away from all this.” His look hardened. “Half the
town has been destroyed. How many people are dead or missing?”
The mayor sighed. “We don’t know yet, but it’ll probably be in the hundreds.”
“Have you started distributing the iodine pills to the people?”
“No, I’ve had no such orders from the central government,” he replied, a little
taken aback by his friend’s abruptness.
“I suggest you get their authorization,” said Saito.
The mayor looked at his friend with a puzzled expression. “But why? The
reactors have gone into shutdown. There hasn’t been any leak.”
“That’s what they say. All the intake valves and pumps have been destroyed. I
saw them. They have no way to get water to cool the emergency generators or for parts of
the reactor’s cooling system, and they have lost power to the grid. If they don’t get
hooked back up to the grid in the next few hours, they won’t be able to cool the nuclear
fuel, and it will go into meltdown.”
The mayor leaned back in his chair. “TEPCO has said everything is fine—
nothing to worry about.”
“How many times have they lied in the past?” questioned Saito.
The mayor took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands.
“Several,” the mayor conceded.
“The people need to take the iodine pills as soon as possible, preferably twenty-
four hours before exposure. You remember the paramedic explained it at the evacuation
drill last year.”
The mayor nodded. “Do you really think there might be a leak?”
“I don’t know, but you should start preparing for an evacuation.”
The mayor sighed and took out his emergency satellite phone and dialed Tokyo.
“Do you mind?” he said, his eyes darting to the door.
Saito got up and left the room. He found a young girl serving tea from a thermos,
and she poured him a cup. He then returned to the mayor’s room, knocked, and entered.
“What did they say?”
“They said there was no reason to give them out. The reactors have safely shut
down and there is no risk of a radiation leak.” He paused and leaned back in his chair.
“They said that it would cause unnecessary anxiety and could lead to mass panic.”
“Do you believe them?” asked Saito in a low voice.
The mayor took off his glasses and looked Saito straight in the eye. “No. It
sounded all a little too rosy. They said the tsunami defense had protected the plant and
there was hardly any damage—that there’s nothing to worry about.”
“See! They’re lying through their teeth. I told you what I saw.”
The mayor got up, opened the door, and signaled for the men to come back into
his office.
The men filed into his office and sat down.
The mayor cleared his throat. “We’re going to start distributing the iodine pills as
a precaution.”
There was a stunned silence, and then the man who had protested earlier asked,
“Has there been a leak?”
“No, but I just got off the phone with Tokyo.” He explained the conversation he
just had with central government.
The men sat there bewildered by what the mayor told them.
“Any questions?” asked the mayor.
They shook their heads.
“Start the distribution immediately.”
The men got up, bowed, and left the room.
The mayor looked at Saito. “We need all the help we can get.”
Saito bowed. “What can I do?”
At 9:23 p.m. the central government ordered the evacuation of all residents in a three-
kilometer radius and for residents between four and ten kilometers to stay indoors.
**
“Status report,” asked Kenichi, entering the control room.
“We are detecting high levels of radiation from unit one,” said one of the
operators.
Kenichi moved to the console and checked the cooling system of unit one. “It’s
been shut down,” he said. “Who shut it down?”
There was silence.
Kenichi cursed and guessed that during all the panic someone must have
accidentally shut it down. But he also knew that if there was radiation leaking, two things
must have happened. Firstly, the water level inside the reactor must have dropped,
exposing the fuel rods and causing a partial meltdown. Secondly, the containment vessel
must have been damaged by the earthquake; most likely it was cracked. He switched the
cooling system back on.
“Do we have an update about getting power restored?”
“Negative. Power lines to all outside grids were destroyed by the tsunami.”
“Where’s Suzuki?” he asked.
One of the operators pointed to his office.
Kenichi strode into Suzuki’s office. “Sir, the situation is now critical. We have a
radiation leak in unit one, and power from the grid has not yet been restored. If we don’t
get power restored by the time the batteries run out, we will be seriously at risk of having
meltdowns in all reactors. I recommend an evacuation zone of thirty kilometers.”
Suzuki looked up. His eyes said it all. He picked up his phone and dialed.
“Yamada,” came the voice on the other end.
“This is Suzuki. We have a critical situation.”
“What’s the problem?” asked Yamada.
Suzuki pressed the speakerphone button and signaled for Kenichi to explain.
There was silence at the other end when Kenichi had finished.
“How long before the batteries run out?” asked Yamada.
“Five to six hours,” replied Kenichi.
“You can use RCIC (Reactor Core Isolation Cooling system) to keep them cool,”
said Yamada.
“That cannot run indefinitely and only while there is sufficient pressure and
steam in the reactors to drive the turbines. Once reactor pressure drops below a certain
level, RCIC shuts down automatically,” said Kenichi. “We should establish an evacuation
zone of thirty kilometers.”
“No, that would cause panic,” said Yamada.
“Sir, there are women and children living within a few kilometers of the plant.
We should at least start evacuating those people.”
“No. If the media gets hold of this, it will cause unnecessary panic.”
“Unnecessary panic,” blurted Kenichi. “You are talking about peoples’ lives.”
“I will talk to the prime minister. I have a helicopter on standby at Nagoya
Airport and will be in Tokyo soon.”
A tremor ran through the building, and Kenichi grabbed hold of the desk to
steady himself. “Sir, I think we should–”
“Continue what you are doing, and I will get back to you as soon as I have talked
to the prime minister.”
“Sir, I think–”
“Make sure the reactors are cooled; we don’t want any unnecessary damage,” he
said and hung up.
Kenichi looked at Suzuki, but Suzuki just shrugged his shoulders.
Kenichi stormed out of the office.
**
Mackeller circled the airbase looking for somewhere to land. Below, the runway was
littered with smashed cars, piles of wood and twisted metal. Most of the planes and
choppers had gotten airborne before the tsunami hit, but a few planes lay crumpled among
the wreckage.
“Down there,” said his copilot, pointing to a clearing amongst the debris.
Mackeller circled the area and then made the descent.
“Well, looks like your dream came true,” said his copilot, taking off his helmet.
“Seems so,” grunted Mackeller, flicking off some switches. “Let’s find out
what’s going on.” He opened the door and jumped down.
“Over there,” said the copilot.
Mackeller look through the fading light and saw some soldiers loading boxes
into a truck. “Let’s go,” he said, making towards them.
“Captain Mackeller,” he called and saluted as he approached.
“Colonel Black,” replied one of the men, saluting back. “We need all the help we
can get.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Mackeller.
We’ve been ordered to take as many supplies as possible to the tsunami victims.
How’s your chopper?”
“It’s fine. We just need some fuel,” replied Mackeller.
“We can manage that,” the Colonel said. “We’ll fuel you and load you with
supplies.”
“What’s the destination,” asked Mackeller.
Colonel Black scratched his chin. “Fukushima.”
An icy chill ran down Mackeller’s back. “Where in Fukushima.”
“Anywhere where the tsunami has destroyed a village, town or city.” He paused.
“Anywhere you can land.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mackeller, saluting.
Thirty minutes later, the rotors thumped overhead and the chopper lifted off.
**
almost dark as Sachie waded through the water to the stairs at the bottom of her house.
Although the tsunami had receded, it had left her neighborhood flooded in waist-deep
water. Her body shook in the freezing conditions, and she could barely make it up the
stairs. She opened the door and staggered in.
“Sachie!” cried her mother, running over and putting a blanket over her.
“Thank you.”
“Are you OK?
“I’m OK.”
“No, you’re not,” said her grandfather. He poured her some tea from a thermos
that still had hot water.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Here, change into these,” her mother said, handing her some clothes. “Your
head! What happened to your head?”
Sachie put her hand to the side of her head. “A roof title hit me.”
“I’ll bandage it when you’ve changed.”
She put down the tea and went into the bathroom and changed.
“Where’s Yukino?” Sachie asked, emerging back from the bathroom.
There was no need for words; their faces told the story.
“Haven’t you gone looking for her?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears.
“It’s too dangerous. There will be more tsunamis,” her mother said.
They all heard it; the distant rumble. The tremor hit and the house shook and
rattled, and her mother raced into the other room to her husband. Then the rumbling died
away.
Her grandfather limped over to her and whispered, “She went to the fishing
harbor.”
Sachie nodded and turned for the door.
“Wait!” he said, gesturing with his hand. He opened the wardrobe and took out
his angler pants and handed them to her.
“Be careful,” he said.
“I will,” she replied and slipped out the door.
A few minutes passed, and Kumiko came back into the room. “Where’s Sachie?”
“She’s gone to search for Yukino,” her father replied.
“What?” she said, heading for the door.
Her father caught her by the arm. “Let her go. Someone needs to find Yukino.”
Kumiko looked into her father’s eyes and nodded reluctantly.
“She’ll be fine,” he assured her.
“Mrs. Yagi!” she blurted. “I forgot about Mrs. Yagi.”
“Go. I’ll look after your husband.”
Kumiko rushed to the door and put on some rain boots.
The door had been torn from the Mrs. Yagi’s house. “Hello, anyone there?” she
shouted.
There was no answer.
“Hello, anyone there?” she repeated.
No answer.
Kumiko stepped into the house. It was twilight and difficult to see inside. “Yagi-
san,” she called.
“Yes,” came a faint voice.
Kumiko’s boots squelched through the thick layer of mud that coated the floor.
“Yagi-san,” she called again.
“Yes,’’ Mrs. Yagi called from the top of the stairs.
Kumiko looked up and saw Mrs. Yagi huddled at the top of the stairs. “It’s me,
Kumiko.”
“Is it time to go to Disneyland?” she called back.
Kumiko couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, we are leaving soon. I’ve come to get
you.”
“I’m ready.”
Kumiko climbed the stairs and found Mrs. Yagi sitting on the floor. She was
soaked, covered in mud, and shaking uncontrollably. “Come let me help you down the
steps.”
She led her down the stairs and through the bottom floor, which had been gutted.
Only an overturned table remained; everything else had been swept out of the house.
“We have to wade through the water. It’s very cold,” Kumiko said.
“Oh…we are already at Disneyland. I must have fallen asleep on the bus. I know
this ride. Isn’t it the Haunted Mansion?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Kumiko said, smiling. Out of all this destruction, at least one
person believed they were having a good time, she thought.
They waded down the lane toward Kumiko’s house; the sky in front of them
was now lit red by the blazing fires.
“The effects are very real these days,” Mrs. Yagi said.
**
“Quick, this way,” said Seko, helping the old lady up. “The fire is coming this way.”
An oil slick from the destroyed tanks had formed on the ocean and was now
burning, sending acrid smoke billowing into the sky. It had caught fire when one of the
surges had pushed farther inland making contact with some burning houses. It was now
spreading out of control, igniting buildings and setting the hills on fire.
Seko and her neighbors climbed the steep hill.
“We’ll be safe on the other side,” said Seko.
Black dots stained her white jacket. She put her hand out and watched the black
snow dissolve on her skin. She looked down toward the harbor as another surge pushed
the blazing ocean back into the remains of the town.
**
Hiro and the children reached the top of the hill. It was dark now, and a light snow was
falling.
“Line up,” said Hiro. He did a quick head count; eighteen from 120 had
survived. They were silent; all wore solemn expressions, the shock of seeing their
classmates killed etched deeply in their eyes.
“Look!” said Ryo, pointing down into the valley.
Hiro looked down and saw the light coming from a farmer’s house. “Let’s go
down there.”
The line of children followed Hiro without a sound.
They came out of the woods fifty meters from the farmhouse where some people
were standing around a fire.
“Good evening,” called Hiro.
The group turned to Hiro. “Good evening. Come over here, it’s warm,” a woman
called.
“They’re children,” shouted a man.
The people rushed over to the children and guided them to the fire.
An elderly man, who seemed to be the group’s leader, introduced himself. “I’m
Daisuke.”
“I’m Hiro.”
“Where did you come from?” asked the man.
“From Nakamaru Elementary School,” said Hiro.
The man saw the look in Hiro’s eyes and didn’t need to ask anything further.
The women were busy opening packets of noodles and dumping them into a
large pot of soup that was simmering on the fire, while the men began wrapping the
children in blankets.
“You’re welcome to stay here the night,” said the man.
“Thank you, but I must get the children to their evacuation zone. Their parents
will be looking for them.”
Without warning the ground jolted and then began shaking.
“On the ground!” shouted Hiro.
The children crouched.
The rumbling grew and a tremor went through the ground; roof tiles smashed to
the ground, and the children screamed—then silence.
“That’s why we are standing out here,” said the leader. “We’ve had at least fifty
aftershocks.”
“I understand,” replied Hiro.
The children got silently to their feet, and the women started to serve them hot
noodles.
“Please eat,” the leader said, handing Hiro a bowl of noodles.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the bowl.
“Are you sure you won’t stay?”
“I appreciate your hospitality, but I think I should get the children to their
parents.”
“I understand,” the man said. “You’d best follow the road, although I’m not sure
if the bridge is out.”
“I’ll deal with that problem when it arises.”
“I’ll get you some flashlights,” he said and went into the house.
Hiro walked over to Ryo. “We will be leaving after everyone has eaten. I want
you to follow up the rear and make sure we don’t lose anyone.”
“OK,” replied Ryo.
Hiro looked around. The children were huddled around the fire eating their
noodles in silence, except for the skinny boy and the two fat boys who sat a little away
talking, and Erica who was crouched by herself. Hiro walked over to her. “Are you all
right?” he asked.
Erica stopped drawing in the dirt and looked up. “I’m fine.”
“What are you drawing?”
Erica stood up, revealing a string of number fours scratched into the dirt.
Hiro looked at the numbers in surprise. “Why are you writing the number four?”
“I don’t know. I just keep seeing them in my mind.”
“Here are some flashlights,” interrupted the leader.
Hiro took the flashlights and thanked him. He then organized the children into a
line facing the group of old people.
“Thank you very much,” Hiro said, bowing deeply.
“Thank you very much,” the children repeated and bowed deeply.
“Take care,” the people said, bowing and then waving good-bye.
Hiro led them to the road.
**
“Help me,” came a woman’s voice from the darkness.
“Where are you?” called Kubo. He had climbed off the house after the water had
receded and was now making his way home.
“Up here!” the voice whimpered.
Kubo looked up and could make out the silhouette of a woman clinging to a tree.
“Hang on,” he called. He went to the base of the tree and took a firm grip of the trunk and
pulled himself up. “Take my hand,” he said, stretching out to her.
“Don’t let me fall,” the woman said.
“I’m a roof tiler. I am used to heights,” he called, hoping this would reassure the
woman.
A hand stretched out, and he took hold of it; it felt like ice. “I’ve got you. Now
slide slowly across.”
The woman slid slowly across, and Kubo grabbed hold of her and then lowered
her to the ground.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“No…it…wasn’t,” stammered the woman. She was soaked and shaking.
“Put this on,” he said, taking his jacket off.
“Thank you,” she said, pulling the jacket over her shoulders.
“My name is Kubo.”
“My name is Natsumi. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said beaming. Although it was dark, he could see the
woman was in her late twenties, pretty with short hair, her office suit torn and dirty. “I’m
heading to my house. It’s up on the hill. Where’s your house?”
“I live in Kamaishi,” she replied.
“You’ll never get there tonight. You’re welcome to stay with me and my three
daughters.”
“Would that be OK?”
“It’s fine. Anyway, you look like you need fresh clothes. You can borrow some
of my daught