Pearl Harbor -- Jack Hammett

Sunday morning, Dec. 7, 1941, was different. I was in bed with my

wife, Mary Jo, after a night out at Kapiolani Park listening to dance

band music. A lot of explosions like big guns going off jarred us out of

a deep sleep. We assumed it was the Army conducting their usual

maneuvers.

A quick look outside the door that served the common entrance for all

the rooms convinced me that something was going on in Pearl Harbor, just

12 miles down the hill. Remember, there were not any visual obstructions

then to keep from seeing all the way from our house to Pearl Harbor.

A tremendous explosion occurred just then, sending fire and smoke

hundreds of feet into the air somewhere in the naval shipyard. It was

later concluded that it was either the Battleship Arizona or the Cassin

and the Downs (destroyers in dry dock) going up.

All this took place in about the same time as it takes to read this. I

immediately yelled for Mary Jo to get my uniform and turn on the radio. I

looked southward to sea and saw two naval destroyers running with a bone

in their teeth back and forth about one or two miles off shore. At the

same time, I saw plumes of water going up adjacent to them, which I

interpreted as the near misses of dropping bombs. Mary Jo joined me on

the little porch outside the lobby and observed two or three planes

wheeling in large circles above our house and Diamond Head. They had the

well-known “red meatball” painted on their wings.

In the meantime, the radio was blaring out: “This is not a drill. This

is not a drill. Pearl Harbor is being bombed by Japanese aircraft. All

military personnel are ordered to return to their commands immediately.”

This kept being repeated over and over.

I ran down the street until a pickup truck came by driven by a

Japanese man. I immediately commandeered his truck and told him to drive

me to the Army-Navy YMCA. That was down in Honolulu -- about six miles

from our Kaimuki residence. It was also the gathering spot for taxi cabs

going to Pearl Harbor and Hickam Field bases. The commercial taxi cabs

were there with their doors open and the drivers were yelling: “Get

aboard for Pearl Harbor. The fare is free.” Several cabs were strafed by

Japanese planes, but ours, fortunately, was not one that was hit.

During this time, the second wave of Japanese bombers and torpedo

planes were still in the air. They were strafing us, but again, I was

lucky and not hit. Scared, but not hit. The nurses’ quarters at the Navy

hospital was being used as a triage station. On arrival inside the

quarters, bodies were laying all around. A lot of groaning, crying and

screaming was going on all the time.

Well, bodies kept being brought in -- some dead, some dying, some

barely hanging on. First aid was just that -- check breathing, stop

hemorrhage, treat shock, immobilize fractures, triage for further care.

We worked around the clock -- four hours on first aid, four hours on

identification of dead. We continued this way for 72 hours with little

rest.

The living casualties were easy. Either you thought they had a chance

or you didn’t. If you thought someone could make it, you moved him

immediately to surgery. If you didn’t, you moved him to the lanai (porch)

and made them as comfortable as possible while they died. There was no

shortage of morphine nor were there any restrictions on how much to use.

In an hour and 50 minutes, 2,403 military personnel died, more than

1,100 were wounded, not counting many civilians. The Pacific Fleet was

decimated, 18 vessels sank or were damaged and more than 300 aircraft

were lost.

And America came awake with an awful start. The motto of the Pearl

Harbor Survivor Assn. is: “Remember Pearl Harbor, keep America alert.”

But we didn’t. On Sept. 11, 2001, nearly 60 years to the day, America

took its first invasion by enemy forces on the mainland of the United

States since the War of 1812. It is estimated that close to 5,000 people

perished during that quick air strike. Billions of dollars in property

losses. The great United States rocked to its very foundations with

economical results.

My daughter, Deborah, five blocks from the World Trade Center, looked

up and saw a jet airliner crash into the second tower. What are the odds

of this coincidence? A father at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, and a

daughter at ground zero on Sept. 11, 2001.

She now, like many other innocents, has to live with the firsthand

witnessing of carnage that is too gruesome to explain. She volunteered to

stay and work with the Salvation Army for five days in the rubble.

Although my duty at Pearl Harbor had been treating injured and dying, her

task was voluntary to support those brave men and women who worked in the

recovery. For that, I am extremely proud of her.

* Costa Mesa resident JACK R. HAMMETT is retired from the Navy and was

stationed at the naval hospital at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941.