Japan and the threat of Nuclear War

On Sunday evening we arrived in Hiroshima, having spent most of the day travelling back from the wilds of Mount Fuji. We had just enough time to visit the Atomic Bomb Museum in the hour before it shut. In fact, we really didn't have enough time, so we went back on Monday morning to check out some of the temporary exhibits that we had missed the first time round. I found it a little disconnecting trying to tie the destruction on show everywhere inside the museum's walls with the modern, flourishing city that was on the outside. One of the temporary exhibits housed a selection of items sent in my Hiroshima survivors and their families: scraps of clothes, half-melted toys, a rusted old tri-cycle, lumps of fused glass, watches that had stopped at precisely 8:15 am when the bomb went off. I still feel that I'm ill-informed to making any educated judgements on the use of the bombs. I should know more. In the airport again at Fukuoka, waiting to check-in, we met a guy, a Texan, who was kinda like our Japanese counterpart. He was teaching English in Japan and was coming over to Korea for the week. He asked us if we'd been following the news for the past for the days. We hadn't, so were of course very shocked to hear that North Korea might be planning to test a nuclear bomb as early as the very next weekend. After all we had seen at the museum over the past two days, it was especially disconcerting to hear of this so close to home. Little did we know that they'd probably already gone ahead with the test. The shuttle bus we took back from the airport was luxurious enough to have a TV playing at the front, and though everything was in Korean, we could work out what had happened easily enough. Though I have registered my location with the British Embassy over here just in case the world should come to an end and I require evacuation, most of us are not immediately concerned. Last time the North attacked, their ranks were swelled immensely by the Chinese and Soviet forces. If they were crazy enough to try again, they would be alone (while we would certainly not be) at a time when they can't even feed themselves or light their homes. I am not afraid.