They didn't know what was coming. No-one did. Until it happened.
Repair men were surveying the damage on their battleships. They were alive. They were happy. So happy. Until...
Cleaners were whitewashing the walls, polishing the floors. Keeping the ship ship-shape. They were alive. They were happy. So happy. Until...
Cooks were ladling out fish broth into white bowls, some dribbling out onto the silver surfaces of the kitchen. They were relaxing as the day wore on. They were alive. They were happy. So happy. Until...
A mother was playing with her six week old son. Both laughing. Both now dead.
They were all happy. Then Pearl Harbour happened. The torpedos hit on the island, destroying everything in its path. Divebombs sank the American battleships, killing everyone inside.
The repair men were knocked off the boat. They sank to the bottom of the sea. Two of them were brothers, side by side. Dead
The cleaners were smashed into the walls, their internal organs crushed by the pressure waves created by the bombs. One woman was holding a locket with pictures of a brown-haired man and sweet child, smiling into the camera. Dead.
The cooks were blown up by their own munition store on board the liner. One was stretching out in order to reach out to the other. She almost reached him. Dead.
The mother and baby were directly bombed. The baby died in her mother's arms. The mother dies mid-howl. Dead.
All dead. All gone. Buried for eternity in the deep, blue sea.
There must be no God. How would he allow us to endure so much pain, and inflict so much more on others.
Or does he interfere and we don't know?
Who knows?