HIROSHIMA-For more than half a century, Hiroshima has relentlessly tried to spread the message of peace. Now, nearly 56 years after the atomic bombing, a group of elderly survivors committed to telling their story is having to disband-they are simply too old and too frail.

Their biggest fear is who will carry on after they have gone. They also worry that Hiroshima will lose its status as a magnet for peace education, as memories of World War II fade.

Most A-bomb survivors are over the age of 70, and many are too feeble to continue talking in public forums, schools and auditoriums about their experiences.

Yoshiko Yanagawa, 71, has the status of hibakusha. She says she will never forget Aug. 6, 1945, the day ``Little Boy'' wiped out the city.

It took her years to come to terms with the bombing-Yanagawa said she feared she would become the target of discrimination or a curiosity item if people knew. But eight years ago, after four decades of silence, she took on the role of kataribe, or A-bomb witness.

She also joined Speakers from Hiroshima (Hiroshima wo kataru kai), a volunteer group of A-bomb survivors who give lectures to students visiting Hiroshima on school trips.

The group has been active for the past 16 years, during which 30 kataribe were at one time registered.

A total of 480,000 students from across the country have listened to the group's lectures at the Peace Memorial Park and other venues in Hiroshima.

But time is their worst enemy. Only 17 kataribe remain, and their average age is 74. The others have either died or retired.

The ones who are left, like Yanagawa, also have decided it is now time to retire and the group will break up at end of March.

Yanagawa says she battled on because ``I don't want children to be exposed to that hell again.''

Even so, she has reached her physical limit.

Yanagawa has been hospitalized twice during the past year.

Hiroshima has always seen itself as a beacon for the world's peace movement, driving home its anti-nuclear message year after year.

Even so, schools are losing interest in Hiroshima as a destination for school trips.

About 420,000 students on school trips visited the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum in fiscal 1995. By fiscal 1999, the number had dropped to about 350,000, mostly because Kanto-area schools decided Okinawa Prefecture was more interesting or they organized trips overseas.

Hiroshi Hara, 69, head of Speakers from Hiroshima, gripes about the attitude of the younger generation.

``Some students don't listen to our lectures, but teachers don't scold them. It fills me with a sense of emptiness,'' he said. ``Nowadays schools don't have any enthusiasm to learn about what happened in Hiroshima during the war.''

Some people say Hiroshima is losing its appeal precisely because it commemorates death, and the manner of people dying. They say Hiroshima needs to spruce up its image.

``Hiroshima people, both hibakusha and non-hibakusha, must work together to create new ways to convey the voice of Hiroshima and give outsiders a deeper understanding of the issues involved,'' said Minoru Omuta, former chairman of the Hiroshima Peace Culture Foundation.

He pointed out that A-bomb survivors have limited their activities to Hiroshima because it was the first city in the world to be attacked with an atomic weapon.

Omuta also noted that survivors missed the boat when it came to spreading their message through videos and the Internet.

``It is important that Hiroshima people overcome their reclusiveness and promote their messages to an outside audience more actively,'' he added.

Still, the clock is ticking.

``I feel the voice of Hiroshima is slowly disappearing, as we survivors pass away one by one. I think it is our responsibility to leave a legacy that will prevent another nuclear war,'' said Hitoshi Takayama who recently published an English-language book titled ``Hiroshima in Memoriam and Today.'' The latest fourth edition was published after an interval of 21 years.

Takayama, 70, is a former junior high school teacher of Japanese. He started to speak about his experiences to foreign tourists at the Peace Memorial Park in 1960s. For years previously, he had struggled against a malignant tumor brought on the radioactive effects of the atomic bombing.

It is estimated that about 140,000 people died in the initial blast. But another 70,000 people have died since then from ailments directly connected to the bombing.

In 1969, Takayama used his own funds to publish a 49-page English-language book titled ``Hiroshima in Memoriam.'' It carries the accounts of four survivors, including his own.

Donations from Hiroshima residents and offers of translation support from American missionaries enabled Takayama to revise the book in 1973, 1979, and finally this time.

The latest edition has 278 pages and carries the memoirs of 29 people or essays of support from well-known people such as former South African President F. W. de Klerk. South Africa remains the only country to voluntarily dismantle its nuclear arsenal.

The city of Hiroshima meantime also has been working to preserve the voice of survivors. The Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum has been videotaping witness accounts of the bombing for use as an educational material since 1986. Due to financial pressures, each video is only 20 minutes long. Even so, the experiences of 700 people have been recorded to date.

Since 1998, the city of Hiroshima has also offered a training program for young people who have no experience of war so that they can become volunteers for peace.

The 5-month program involves learning the history of the city through lectures and accounts from survivors. About 100 peace volunteers work as guides for the Peace Memorial Museum and in the Peace Memorial Park.

``My dream to be kataribe has finally come true,'' said Norio Ichikawa, 61, rejoicing that he had finally given his account on videotape. He was six years old at the time of atomic bombing.

Ichikawa spent 42 years working for a company in Tokyo before returning to Hiroshima two years ago. When he was in Tokyo, he never talked about his experiences of the bombing.

Yet, every year at 8:15 a.m. on Aug. 6, the moment of the dazzling flash that became part of history, Ichikawa has stopped what he was doing at work and entered a washroom to pay a silent tribute to the A-bomb victims. He did not want his colleagues to know because he feared they would start treating him differently.

``I never forgot Hiroshima. So when I retired, I made up my mind to live with the souls of my ancestors for eternity.''

``Nothing can replace kataribe as the voice of Hiroshima, of course,'' said Noriyuki Wakatsuki, associate chief of Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum in charge of videotaping and peace volunteer projects. ``During the 20th century, more than 210,000 people died of A-bomb-related causes. We have to hurry to record as many witness accounts as possible before they all pass away. After that, it will be up to young people to take up the challenge.''