Hiroshima: The Last Witnesses – M.G. Sheftall
Most of the WWII nonfiction I’ve read has centered on the Allied experience. “Hiroshima: The Last Witnesses” shifts the lens to the Axis, focusing on Japan, and more specifically, the hibakusha: survivors of the Hiroshima bombing who offer an unflinching account of August 6, 1945.
Drawing on eight years of interviews and immersive research, M.G. Sheftall structures the book in four parts: the lead-up to the bombing, the moment of impact and immediate aftermath, the long shadow of its legacy, and finally, the intimate story of hibakusha Sayoko Yamaguchi. That last section alone is worth the read as her account is devastating, but also emblematic of a generation asked to endure a nightmare and then remain silent about it.
The book’s strength lies in this testimonial core. Most of the survivors were school-aged children conscripted to support Japan’s military efforts. Their stories are sad and often stomach-turning. One of the book’s most important contributions is its effort to dismantle the sanitized version of events many Americans grew up with.
We’ve been told people were vaporized instantly, without pain, but that’s not what happened. Sheftall describes how, in those first seconds, skin burned, people ran while still on fire and the city itself became a death trap. It’s graphic, but not gratuitous, as the horror serves a purpose — to correct the record, especially for readers who’ve been taught to view the bombings as a clean and necessary end to war.
Where the book sometimes stumbles is in its detail-heavy digressions — the physics of the bomb, the anatomy of radiation poisoning, the layout of Hiroshima’s neighborhoods and Christianity in Japan. These sections add context, but they also interrupt the emotional momentum. That said, the audiobook (narrated by Brian Nishii) helps balance things out. His restrained, matter-of-fact delivery suits the content well.
Sheftall brings himself into the narrative occasionally, describing how he gained the trust of the hibakusha as a white American. Normally I’m wary of nonfiction that veers into memoir, but here it works, especially when examining the biases we bring to history.
What makes the book especially compelling is its cultural analysis. He explores everything from the caste system to Confucian ideals to the decades-long public silence surrounding the bombing. The idea that “decorum throttled grief” — a stark contrast to Western responses to tragedy — is a reminder that emotional expression is not universal, even in the face of catastrophe.
There’s also a sharp political edge. While the book doesn’t attempt to fully litigate the morality of the bombing — and maybe no single book can — it does complicate the “ends justify the means” narrative. Sheftall includes chilling examples, like the U.S. flyers dropped after the bombing that read more like psychological warfare than humanitarian outreach.
More than anything, this is a book about what war does to people, and not just in 1945. Reading this in the context of ongoing conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza, I couldn’t help but see the parallels: the rhetoric, the propaganda, the dehumanization that makes destruction feel justified — even celebratory.
It’s a long book, and in some places, it feels like it. But it’s unflinching in all the right ways. Sheftall doesn't let you forget that this was a man-made atrocity and that its survivors weren’t symbols or statistics, but real people who lived through something unimaginable, and then had to keep living.
We need books like this. Not to wallow in despair, but to preserve memory and to remind us what happens when we stop seeing each other as human.
Rating (story): 4.5/5 stars
Rating (narration): 4/5 stars
Format: Audiobook (personal library)
Dates read: July 18 – July 24, 2025
Multi-tasking: Okay, my husband stopped reading the physical book because he couldn’t stand the digressions — and there are quite a few. The audiobook makes it easier to stay engaged; you can let your mind wander during the dense sections, as long as you give the witness accounts the attention they deserve.
