“ ALL HANDS ON DECK!”, someone yells, as I rush to the port side of the ship, struggling to find a spot to sit, facing starboard. I then hear the broadcast, “Two minutes till burst”. 60 seconds left I hear. My heart is racing. I feel nervous all over. The broadcast now orders us to close our eyes. Drops of sweat follow the crevices of my nose. 40, 30, 20, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, BOMB GONE! I cannot see the bomb but I can see the bones of my fingers. The heat rushes up to my back like a wave. Now the broadcast is counting up “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,… open eyes, goggles off, face the burst.” I see the bomb, like a mushroom sprouting, the sky is a blue glow, with the orange – reddish colours of pending destruction.