The few remaining citizens huddled in shelters.
Shelters are unpleasant to visit, and even more so to sit in - almost unbearable.
I saw one sight which I will have difficulty forgetting. A little girl, sleeping on an iron bed. Next to her, almost on top of her, lay her mother, an immigrant from the Ural Mountains. No privacy on this fateful night, yet no complaints - only the desire to sleep without fear of katyushas. Next to them was the Ohana family.