Instead of writing about my day yesterday (I will make note of that on another entry), I would like to talk a bit about the significance of today, December 7, 2009. It is the 68th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. It is significant to me because it was significant to my Dad who was there that infamous day.
Here, in honor of my Dad is his account (abbreviated) of that day in his own words:
"Sunday, December 7, 1941 started with a BANG! In fact several of them. We were awakened by several loud noises and the sounds of planes flying around. We thought that the Air Force was holding maneuvers on Sunday morning and you can imagine the language we used for their ears. But, instead of the Air Force, we were visited by the Shore Patrol and were told that Pearl was being attacked and we should return to our ships.
My friends and I got into a car and drove back to Pearl with the Japanese pilots firing real bullets at us on the road! Sure didn't take long to get to the base where we were greeted with the sights and sounds of a war starting. And talked about scared, I sure did ruin a good pair of underwear. Got back to the ship without getting hit and thanked the good Lord for a very large favor. I was immediately assigned to a motor launch as part of a Fire and Rescue team and sent to pick up survivors, good white uniform and all. Didn't have time to change but that uniform could be replaced and some of those survivors in the water needed help NOW!
As we headed for battleship row, I saw the largest, hottest, smokiest fire I have ever seen. And that is where we were headed. The water was full of men who had been blown or had jumped in and were doing the best to save themselves. Most of them were burned so badly that there was small chance they would survive and these were the ones we were sent to rescue first. It was very difficult getting them into the launch but with a lot of main strength and awkwardness and a lot of luck, we did manage it.
We could take 10 or 12 at a time to the landing in the Navy Yard where medics and nurses were waiting. We would unload and return for another batch. Sometimes we were too late, so we left them in the water and found someone who was still alive. There must have been fifteen or twenty crews like ours and we worked five or six hours rescuing the wounded and taking them to the safety of the nurses and the medics."
Note: I have skipped some of the entry.
"When all the men in the water had been rescued and no more could be found, we got a chance to look around us a little. We had been so busy we had no chance to know what had gone on. Of course we heard and saw the U.S.S. Arizona explode and sink where she was. And we did see the U.S.S. Oklahoma slowly but surely roll over exposing her bottom and trapping some men inside. Later in the week, I was in the rescue party that cut a hole in her bottom and rescued a few survivors. The rest of the battle ships were sunk in place by torpedoes and bomb hits and all the topsides of them were badly burned by the gigantic fire which was fed by the fuel oil blasted out of the ships as they were hit. This fuel oil was very thick and floated on top of the water where it burned with a hot, smokey fury. Many of the men we rescued were burned horribly by this fire and I am sure many of them died as a result. I have never seen anything so terrible before, have not since and sincerely hope to never see it again.
Note: My Dad had a very precise and long entry in his journal about that day and the days following the attack. Later on, because he was certified as a diver, he was sent to many of the ships to try and rescue men trapped inside the hulls of the ships. He was a part of rescuing twenty to thirty men that were trapped. And after diving for many days in recovery efforts and salvage operations he then was part of a burial detail at the military cemetery in Pearl.
"It was a beautiful place if you could forget what you were there for. But, we were there to conduct services and bury the remains. The work load was so large that we had a sort of production line set up. It operated with all respect but got the job done speedily. A long trench would be dug with a ditching machine and we would go down it with the caskets, the remains, brass id tags, three chaplains, a yeoman and two or three men to place the remains in the casket. The casket would be sealed, the yeoman would read a name from his list, the appropriate brass tag would be placed on the casket, the proper chaplain (Jewish, Catholic or Protestant) would give a short prayer and the casket lowered into the grave. We would move on down the ditch, leaving a six foot space and prepare to place another casket. When we finished for the day, we all stood at attention, while a firing squad fired a twenty one gun salute, and the bugler played taps. (note: skips) I guess I worked at this sad assignment until word came I was to proceed to the docks for my next assignment."
So I remember this day and honor my Dad...
Here, in honor of my Dad is his account (abbreviated) of that day in his own words:
"Sunday, December 7, 1941 started with a BANG! In fact several of them. We were awakened by several loud noises and the sounds of planes flying around. We thought that the Air Force was holding maneuvers on Sunday morning and you can imagine the language we used for their ears. But, instead of the Air Force, we were visited by the Shore Patrol and were told that Pearl was being attacked and we should return to our ships.
My friends and I got into a car and drove back to Pearl with the Japanese pilots firing real bullets at us on the road! Sure didn't take long to get to the base where we were greeted with the sights and sounds of a war starting. And talked about scared, I sure did ruin a good pair of underwear. Got back to the ship without getting hit and thanked the good Lord for a very large favor. I was immediately assigned to a motor launch as part of a Fire and Rescue team and sent to pick up survivors, good white uniform and all. Didn't have time to change but that uniform could be replaced and some of those survivors in the water needed help NOW!
As we headed for battleship row, I saw the largest, hottest, smokiest fire I have ever seen. And that is where we were headed. The water was full of men who had been blown or had jumped in and were doing the best to save themselves. Most of them were burned so badly that there was small chance they would survive and these were the ones we were sent to rescue first. It was very difficult getting them into the launch but with a lot of main strength and awkwardness and a lot of luck, we did manage it.
We could take 10 or 12 at a time to the landing in the Navy Yard where medics and nurses were waiting. We would unload and return for another batch. Sometimes we were too late, so we left them in the water and found someone who was still alive. There must have been fifteen or twenty crews like ours and we worked five or six hours rescuing the wounded and taking them to the safety of the nurses and the medics."
Note: I have skipped some of the entry.
"When all the men in the water had been rescued and no more could be found, we got a chance to look around us a little. We had been so busy we had no chance to know what had gone on. Of course we heard and saw the U.S.S. Arizona explode and sink where she was. And we did see the U.S.S. Oklahoma slowly but surely roll over exposing her bottom and trapping some men inside. Later in the week, I was in the rescue party that cut a hole in her bottom and rescued a few survivors. The rest of the battle ships were sunk in place by torpedoes and bomb hits and all the topsides of them were badly burned by the gigantic fire which was fed by the fuel oil blasted out of the ships as they were hit. This fuel oil was very thick and floated on top of the water where it burned with a hot, smokey fury. Many of the men we rescued were burned horribly by this fire and I am sure many of them died as a result. I have never seen anything so terrible before, have not since and sincerely hope to never see it again.
Note: My Dad had a very precise and long entry in his journal about that day and the days following the attack. Later on, because he was certified as a diver, he was sent to many of the ships to try and rescue men trapped inside the hulls of the ships. He was a part of rescuing twenty to thirty men that were trapped. And after diving for many days in recovery efforts and salvage operations he then was part of a burial detail at the military cemetery in Pearl.
"It was a beautiful place if you could forget what you were there for. But, we were there to conduct services and bury the remains. The work load was so large that we had a sort of production line set up. It operated with all respect but got the job done speedily. A long trench would be dug with a ditching machine and we would go down it with the caskets, the remains, brass id tags, three chaplains, a yeoman and two or three men to place the remains in the casket. The casket would be sealed, the yeoman would read a name from his list, the appropriate brass tag would be placed on the casket, the proper chaplain (Jewish, Catholic or Protestant) would give a short prayer and the casket lowered into the grave. We would move on down the ditch, leaving a six foot space and prepare to place another casket. When we finished for the day, we all stood at attention, while a firing squad fired a twenty one gun salute, and the bugler played taps. (note: skips) I guess I worked at this sad assignment until word came I was to proceed to the docks for my next assignment."
So I remember this day and honor my Dad...
