The date was August 6, 1945 – an ordinary morning like any other. But as the sun rose over Hiroshima, Japan, nothing could prepare the citizens for the impending cataclysm.
A silver bird named “Enola Gay” soared across the sky, carrying in its belly the harbinger of a new era, a harbinger of death and destruction like none before. They called it “Little Boy,” an innocuous name that belied the terrible force it was about to unleash.
The world blinked, and in an instant, an intense light engulfed Hiroshima. A mushroom cloud rose above the city as the shockwaves spread, wiping out everything in their path.
That day the world bore witness to the grim reality of nuclear weapons. Just like that, the war was over. The world sighed in relief, but something had fundamentally shifted.