Backyard Adventures

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Remembering Pearl Harbor

Remembering Pearl Harbor
By DAVID LIPPMAN

Friday, December 7th 2007, 9:02 AM

AP

The deck of the destroyer USS Shaw explodes after being bombed during the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii on Dec. 7, 1941.

Getty

A B-17C Flying Fortess bomber lies crippled after a strafing run by Japanese fighters. It's the singular event that forced an entire generation to become the greatest in the nation's history. Sixty six years after the surprise attack on the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor plunged the country into World War II, David Lippman gives a detailed account of the events leading up to that fateful day.

December 6th, 1941
[The] lead domestic American news stories that day are a car crash in Baltimore, a train wreck in Kentucky, the death of a Civil War veteran, and the murder of a 12-year-old girl at a "petting party." In Seattle, a gun-toting burglar breaks into a local doctor's home at 4:30 a.m., and makes off with a purse's entire contents: 15 cents. As there are only 16 shopping days til Christmas, newspapers are packed with ads, which link consumer goods to the defense push ("This Christmas...Give the 8 Freedoms of (Glover) Pajamas That Really Fit!") The New York Times headlines its story on Japan's aggressive tone: "Japan rattles sword but echo is pianissimo." Life magazine says "Japan is desperate and getting weaker every day."

That afternoon, Japan sends a the first segments of a 14- part message to its embassy in Washington, ordering them to present their final demands to the United States at 1 p.m. Washington time, tomorrow. This message is intercepted and decoded by the Americans faster than the Japanese can do it.

This intelligence lands in the hands of Lt. Cdr. Alvin Kramer of the Navy's Cryptographic Department, who drives around Washington that evening, showing the message to top officials. The message indicates that the Japanese intend to break off negotiations completely, and is filled with inconclusive posturing.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt reads the document, and says "This means war." He then sends a personal message to Japan's Emperor Hirohito, begging him to start negotiations afresh. Other American senior officers are less certain that the message means war. Some senior officers, like Gen. George C. Marshall, Army Chief of Staff, and Rear Adm. Richmond K. Turner, Chief of War Plans, cannot be reached that evening. No warnings go out to Hawaii, or anywhere else, for that matter.

When Roosevelt's message reaches Tokyo (after a long delay by the Japanese telegraph agency), US Ambassador Robert C. Grew passes it on to the Foreign Ministry and asks for an immediate audience with the Emperor. Prime Minister Hideki Tojo, the fiercest militarist, denies the American request.

At Pearl Harbor, all eight battleships of the Pacific Fleet are in port, and all three carriers are at sea.

On the battleship USS Arizona, YN3 Oree Weller stands zone inspection in the ship's navigation office. He just manages to clean up dripping red paint before CAPT Franklin Van Valkenburgh inspects the space. Weller's space passes inspection, and Weller is handed his liberty card for that evening.

"A river of white flows down Hotel Street" that evening as thousands of Sailors descend on Honolulu's main entertainment area, filled with shooting galleries, pinball machines, taxi- dancehalls, and cafes named the Black Cat, the Bunny Ranch, or Lousy Lui's. However, both the Shore Patrol and the Military Police have a quiet night...one Sailor is jailed for a "malicious conversation," and another from USS California for using a shipmate's liberty card. Only 80 out of 100,000 military on liberty or pass are carted off to brigs and guardhouses.

Many Sailors and soldiers enjoy simpler pleasures. PFC Aloysius Manuszewski has a beer at the PX, and then writes home to his parents in Buffalo, N.Y. Officers' clubs hold small parties and Dutch treats. ENS Victor Delano spends a properly respectful evening at the home of RADM Isaac C. Kidd, who is COMBATDIV 2. It is the last night Kidd will be alive.

A lot of Sailors go Pearl Harbor's Bloch Recreation Arena, where the main event is the "Battle of Music," a musical contest between ship's bands. The contest is won by USS Pennsylvania.

The band of USS Arizona finishes second. The musicians are rewarded by being allowed to sleep late the following day. Not one member of Arizona's band survives the attack.

At midnight, Hawaii's stern blue laws kick in. At bars and clubs throughout Honolulu, the National Anthem is played. Sailors and Soldiers snap to attention, face the music, then race for the doors, buses, and liberty boats.

Some have to work. The swing shift at the Pearl Harbor drydock puts new steel plates on the destroyer USS Downes and aligns boring bars on the USS Pennsylvania's propeller shafts, while loudspeakers blare "Moonlight Serenade." Japanese midget submarines use the work lights to navigate towards the base.

Radio station KGMB is ordered to stay on the air after midnight to guide in a flight of 12 B-17 Flying Fortresses due in from the West Coast.

North of Hawaii, the attacking Japanese task force increases speed to 25 knots, and six midget submarines are released from their mother boats off Oahu, in a bid to cause additional chaos at Pearl Harbor. Among them is a midget sub commanded by Ensign Kazuo Sakamaki.

On the carrier Akagi, Vice Adm. Chuichi Nagumo sends a message to his fleet: "The fate of the Empire rests on this enterprise. Every man must devote himself totally to the task at hand."

December 7, 1941
Japan's first act of aggression that day is not the bombing of Pearl Harbor, but the laying of mines off the coast of Malaya to cover the invasion. Shortly after 3 a.m. local time, Japanese infantrymen of the Imperial Guards Division come ashore in Malaya, and run into stiff machinegun fire from British and Indian troops of the 8th Indian Brigade.

Meanwhile, at 9 a.m. in Washington, the last part of the 14- part message arrives. The missing piece does not mention the attack, it merely says negotiations have come to a standstill and must be ended. Another message follows: the 14-part telegram must be delivered to US Secretary of State Cordell Hull by 1 p.m. Washington time, 7:30 a.m. in Hawaii.

The Japanese Embassy staff have enormous difficulty decoding it and translating it into English. They do not know it must be delivered at 1 p.m. or why. Their typist, Katsuzo Okaumura, a junior diplomat, is a two-fingered typist at best, and makes numerous mistakes. Convinced his typing will lose him face, he wastes time re-typing the entire message.

Lt. Cdr. Alvin Kramer and Army Col. Rufus Bratton spend a hectic morning trying to alert someone in authority. Kramer fails, but Bratton finally locates Chief of Staff Gen. George C. Marshall, who determines that the Japanese mean to attack. He sends out an alert message to all Army commands, urging it be passed on to the Navy as well. But atmospherics prevent it from reaching Hawaii. Marshall orders the message sent as a telegram.

While this is going on, Vice Adm. Chuichi Nagumo hoists a battle flag on his carrier Akagi's signal block, the same one Adm. Heihachiro Togo flew at Tsushima in 1905. Shortly after that, his six carriers hurl 366 planes in two waves at Pearl Harbor.

The lead wave, led by Cdr. Mitsuo Fuchida, is guided in by KGMB radio, still playing Hawaiian songs.

As the bombers roar in, the Americans have more chances to be alerted. The US destroyer Ward, under Cdr. William Outerbridge, spots and sinks one of the midget submarines, with depth charges. But her captain's report is dismissed by his superiors. After all, this is Outerbridge's first patrol on his first command.

Army radar picks up Fuchida's incoming planes. But the fighter controller on duty, hearing the report, says, "Well, don't worry about it," figuring it is the incoming B-17s. The radar crews shut down their machine and go to breakfast.

Meanwhile, Marshall's warning arrives in Honolulu. It's not marked "urgent," so messenger Tadao Fuchikami rolls out on his Indian Scout motorcycle to deliver the telegram on his normal rounds.

At 7:50 a.m., Fuchida's lead Val dive bomber swoops in on Pearl Harbor to find the defenses unmanned, no AA fire or fighter patrols. "We've made it!" he says, and sends the famous "Tora, Tora, Tora," message, which is heard on Akagi and in Japan. His planes roar in on their attack courses, amazing American Sailors and Marines, who are busy preparing for 8:00 a.m. morning colors. At 7:53, the first bomb falls at the foot of the seaplane ramp at Pearl Harbor. In Washington, the Japanese are still typing up their message for Cordell Hull.

At Pearl Harbor, Oree Miller is reading letters from home in his office aboard USS Arizona. On USS Nevada, Lt. Joe Taussig, the Officer-of-the Deck, is wondering which size American flag to fly. On Arizona, SA Carl Christiansen waits with his brother, SN E.L. Christiansen, to go on liberty. E.L. remembers that he's left something behind, and goes below to find it. On USS Oklahoma, QM1 H.S. Kennedy, father of NASU's last CO, is standing by his rack after returning from his morning shower. On USS Maryland, SK3 Felder Crawford is reading the Sunday funnies, in which Navy Bob Steele deflects an unknown air attack on his destroyer. SN Leslie Vernon Short is addressing Christmas cards in the battleship's foretop. Pharmacist's Mate William Lynch, aboard California, hears a shipmate call: "The Russians must have a carrier visiting us. Here come some planes with the red balls showing clearly." In Ford Island's CPO family housing, Chief Albert Molter does some housework. On the north side of the harbor, 14-year-old Don Morton finds the fish are biting. At the front gate, the Marine guard stands tall as local photographer Tai Sing Loe readies his camera.

The Japanese swing in simultaneously from three directions, grooving torpedoes up the harbor. They sink five battleships in 20 minutes. Arizona meets her fate when a bomb hits her magazine, killing 1,177 Sailors, including Rear Adm. Isaac Kidd, and E.L. Christiansen. The force of the blast shakes Mitsuo Fuchida's plane overhead, and hurls Radioman Glenn Lane clean off the battleship's quarterdeck. Oklahoma takes 12 torpedoes and capsizes, trapping 125 men. Only 32 are ultimately pulled free. California and West Virginia are torn apart by bombs and torpedoes, and sunk. After a gallant effort to break out, Nevada is forced to ground herself on Barber's Point. 188 American aircraft, lined up in the center of their runways to guard against sabotage, are destroyed on the ground.

The immediate American reaction is shock, horror, and disbelief. Army officers at Hickam Air Base think the Marines are doing "realistic maneuvers" against the Navy. A Marine at MCAS Ewa yells, "Some Army pilot has gone nuts, he's diving on HQ and shooting!" A Navy officer shouts about another Army "SNAFU." But the Americans soon get the picture. A chief on Honolulu tells his men, "The war is on, the Japs are here!" One of his Sailors, charging up the ladder, mutters, "I didn't even know they were sore at us."

There are numerous examples of valor on both sides. One Japanese pilot flies his damaged plane into the side of the seaplane tender Curtiss, becoming the war's first Kamikaze. The tender survives to sail on Operation Deep Freeze II in 1956. Two midget submarines penetrate the harbor, giving destroyer crews a scare, but doing no damage before they are rammed and sunk.

American valor is enormous. Sailors, Marines, airmen, and Soldiers show no signs of panic, calmly manning their stations. Capt. Mervyn Bannion fights his battleship West Virginia until well after he is mortally wounded. Steward Dorie Miller, an African-American, mans a machine gun and knocks down an enemy plane, even though he was never trained to use the weapon. Ensign Nathan Asher, a Jew, senior officer on the destroyer USS Blue, conns his ship out of the harbor. Lts. Robert Taylor and Charles Welch get their antique P-40 fighters in the air and shoot down four enemy planes. Chaplain Howell Forgy tells his men on USS Honolulu that services are cancelled, but to "praise the Lord and pass the ammunition." AOC John Finn, lying in bed when the raid begins, runs out to the Kaneohe Naval Air Station flightline, sets up a machinegun, and opens up on enemy planes. "Although painfully wounded many times, he continued to man his gun and return the enemy's fire vigorously, and with telling effect through the enemy strafing and bombing attacks, and with complete disregard for his own personal safety," reads his Congressional Medal of Honor citation.

On Maryland, Leslie Vernon Short does a double-take when he sees the Japanese planes, and opens fire with the ready .50- caliber machinegun, helping to save his ship. On Arizona, Oree Weller races to his battlestation, a searchlight tower on the mainmast, reaching it just before the ship's magazines explode. The noise is deafening, the vibration like an earthquake. Weller calmly disconnects and stows his sound-powered phone before climbing down the mainmast, and swimming through oil-covered water to a rescue launch. SN Don Stratton is burned over 60 percent of his body, and has to climb hand over hand to the repair ship USS Vestal, moored alongside. On Oklahoma, H.S. Kennedy and his shipmates are trapped by rushing water. At the Navy Hospital, LT Harry Walker, the New Orleans' doctor, hobbling on an cast-wrapped leg, stays on his feet for six hours, tending the wounded. RMC Thomas Reeves manhandles ammunition in a smoky passageway on California until he falls unconscious and died. MM2 Robert Scott stays at his post, feeding air to the five-inch guns as water fills his compartment, and dies at his post. On Maryland, CAPT W.R. Carter, Chief of Staff for BATDIV Three, tells CDR W.F. Fitzgerald, "We can't do much good up here. Let's go down to the guns and give them a hand." The two officers then help man AA batteries. Yard worker Harry Danner drops his boring bars to man a gun crew. On the 110-foot garbage scow YG-17, BMC L.M. Jansen trains his craft's sole fire hose on the blazing West Virginia.

Some folks cling to routine. At Wheeler Field, an ordnance sergeant refuses to issue weapons without written authorization. LT Robert Overstreet bellows, "Hell, man, this is war," and the noncom gives in. Shipyard worker Ed Sheehan, urgently summoned to the Shipfitter's Shop, stops to punch the time clock before going to 1010 dock to burn holes in the capsized minelayer Oglala. Ensign Bill Ingram, who swims from Oklahoma to Maryland to man a flak gun, is rebuked by Maryland's OOD for failing to wear his cover at his battle station.

On West Virginia, Marine Corps Field Musician Dick Fiske blows "General Quarters" into the loudspeaker. On USS Maryland, the bugler tries to do the same, but the Officer of the Deck, finding the bugle too make-believe, tosses the trumpet into the harbor and yells into the 1MC instead. A Nevada bandsman, manning his AA gun, puts his trumpet to even worse use...he loads it accidentally into the gun and shoots it at the Japanese. At Schofield Barracks, Bugler Frank Gobeo can't even remember the call for "Stand to," so he blows "Pay Call," instead, which brings the men hurtling out of the barracks. On Nevada, a bomb blast costs ENS Joe Taussig his leg, but he determinedly stays at his post as OOD. American AA shells, improperly fused, whistle off towards downtown Honolulu, and hit flyweight boxer Toy Tamenahaha, who loses both his legs. Ashore, American naval officers can only stand and watch helplessly, among them officers from the blasted Arizona and Adm. Husband E. Kimmel, CINCPAC.

Some ships make a dash for it...most notably Nevada, which is forced to beach herself, but others make it to sea during or after the attack, among them the cruiser Phoenix, which will survive World War II to be sold to Argentina, becoming the General Belgrano. She is ultimately sunk by the British nuclear- powered submarine HMS Conqueror in 1982. USS Honolulu gets out after her deck crew jettisons her captain's beloved hand-crafted main brow, hurling it on the dock with a splintering crash.

Around 9:45 a.m., the Japanese withdraw. They leave behind battleships that are broken, crippled wrecks, spouting orange flame and black smoke. Arizona, her superstructure tilted crazily, is covered with oily clouds. At Kaneohe Naval Air Station, AOC John Finn recalls, "After the last plane passed over, there was absolute silence, other than planes crackling and burning."

When the Japanese aircraft return to their carriers, they expect to be refueled and re-armed for a second attack, to eliminate Pearl Harbor's drydocks and fuel tanks. But VADM Chuichi Nagumo says, "We may conclude that the anticipated results have been achieved." He fears counterattack by American submarines and carriers. He won't press his luck. He orders his fleet to withdraw.

While Nagumo makes up his mind, in Japan, Adm. Yamamoto, following the battle by radio, whispers, "Admiral Nagumo is going to withdraw." Minutes later, Yamamoto gets word of Nagumo's decision.

Later that day, the carrier USS Enterprise sails into Pearl Harbor. Had the Japanese launched a second attack, they would have caught her. Instead, Enterprise refuels during the night, is underway by dawn, and goes on to an unparalleled war record.

Marshall's warning message arrives hours after the attack begins. Army Gen. Walter Short, reeling from the disaster, sends a copy to his Navy opposite number, Kimmel, then tosses the message in the garbage.

The human toll is 2,330 Americans, including 34 pairs of brothers on Arizona alone. The Japanese lose 29 aircraft, five midget submarines, and 64 men. Ens. Kazuo Sakamaki, unable to find Pearl Harbor, abandons his malfunctioning sub, swims ashore, collapses from exhaustion in front of National Guard Sgt. David M. Akui, and becomes America's Prisoner of War No. 1.

In the United States, the news of Japan's attack floods across the country like a shock wave. Many football fans find out when a Brooklyn Dodgers-New York Giants game is broken up (as Bruiser Kanard tackles Ward Cuff's kickoff return at the 10-yard line) in a radio flash. Among those at the game in the Polo Grounds is Henry Kissinger. John F. Kennedy is at another football game in Washington, when he learns of the attack. Richard Nixon finds out as he's leaving a movie theater with his wife, Patricia.

Franklin D. Roosevelt finds out when he gets the call from Navy Secretary Frank Knox, while working on his stamp collection. Secretary of War Henry Stimson orders troops to set up AA guns on the White House roof, then plunges into a series of conferences to get the war organized. New York Mayor Fiorello La Guardia orders his city blacked-out and warns his citizens to stay calm, that the city might be attacked. CBS radio reacts by cancelling a performance of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado and replacing it with HMS Pinafore, "in honor of the Royal Navy."

Long lines pile up in front of recruiting offices. When one New Yorker finds the Army line too long, he switches to the Navy. More than 28,349 will enlist by year's end.

Brig. Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, just off maneuvers in San Antonio, Texas, gets the call from his boss, Gen. Walter Krueger, and tells his wife, "I have to go to headquarters. I don't know when I'll be back." It will be four years.

Excerpted from David Lipman's World War II Plus 55 Web site, http://usswashington.com/worldwar2plus55/index.htm

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