After the fierce fires subsided, the people looked out over a burnt plain extending in every direction. The surviving articles of dayly life lay burned and smashed where they had fallen. Unrecognizable bodies lay everywhere. The survivors hauled away debris, mourned over the bodies, and began eking out a life in the rubble. They hid from the elements in damaged air-raid shelters, huts of burnt tin sheeting, or emergency barracks built by soldier rescue teams.
For ten days starting immediately after the bombing, area towns and villages sent food to the city. Then, the food rationing system floundered. To prevent starvation, people supplemented rations with food from kitchen gardens dug near their makeshift dwellings. They went to the countryside to get food from farmers, typically by barter. Many survivors had nothing to barter. The food for sale was nicknamed "Eba dango" (rice balls from Eba). These "substitute" rice balls were mixed with grass or gulfweed growing along the railroad track in Eba and other suburbs. Such food staved off hunger, and nothing more.