Pearl Harbor

     Stopping off in Hawaii en route to American Samoa gave me an opportunity to accomplish a goal I have long desired. I went early in the morning to view the USS Arizona memorial.  Pictures are neither helpful nor proper for this site.  First, there is major construction at the mainland entrance; second, photos cannot capture the atmosphere you experience here.  The site has a number of exhibits illustrating and memorializing the sacrifices made by so many men and women.  Most people do not realize that Pearl Harbor was a major submarine base in WW2 (it still is - 2 nuclear attack subs were moored at the quay).  About 70 subs were lost in the Pacific War; a site here has each one noted by a granite stand with the boat's history and manner of loss stated.  Several are still unknown; they sailed out, they never came back.  Each boat contained 80 to 90 men  Reading these dedications is a most sobering experience.

     The USS Arizona still lies where it sunk.  Brightly colored fish swim around; the ship lies so close to the surface that you can see the deck through the water.  A sea turtle swam languidly over the fore deck.  Small drops of oil bubble slowly to the surface; there are still 1/2 million gallons within the ship.  The name of each sailor and marine buried there is engraved on the interior of the monument, which itself is anchored athwart the middle of the ship.  Visitors gaze at the long list in silence.  The list is not complete; to this day, survivors request to be interred with their shipmates, and their names too are added to the memorial.  So the count, already well over 1,000 names long, continues to grow slowly larger.  There are, it is reckoned, about twenty survivors remaining alive.  The United States flag still flies over the USS Arizona, and it always will.

      Moored close by the USS Arizona is the last battleship ever to be put into service – the USS Missouri. Another shuttle, this time by bus, brings you into the US Naval Base on Ford Island and the Missouri. It is difficult to imagine a more impressive structure. The USS Missouri is the length of 3 football fields end-to-end – think of the IDS tower on its side. You can walk through much of the ship on your own, but the short tours are a wealth of information. Being a guy, I must talk about the massive 16” gun turrets.  There are 3, each with 3 guns. They are simply huge, with foot-thick steel armor, and extend down into the bottom of the ship, 5 levels in all. What you can't see is all the pulleys, hoists, and other machinery needed to load the shells, then the separate bags of powder (up to 6) behind it, to propel that shell over 26 miles. All capable of being repeated by a skilled crew in 30 seconds for another volley. And all completely outmoded today. What I did not know was that these turrets are not attached to the ship in any way – they simply sit within a large circular opening in the deck. If the ship should capsize, the turrets fall out, down to the bottom of the sea – lose the turrets, but perhaps save the ship. The USS Missouri carried presidents, fleet admirals, and other dignitaries in luxurious quarters through WW2, Korea, and Desert Storm. Now it carries tourists, and memories.

     There is a place on the starboard side of the ship, the site of a famous photo from WW2. A kamikaze pilot was killed just before his plane struck the Missouri off Okinawa – the photo shows that plane with it's wingtip touching the side, a moment before striking the deck of the Missouri and exploding. The Japanese pilot's body was recovered (as well as his plane's tires – Firestones!). Not widely known is “the rest of the story.” The Missouri's crew threw the wreckage overboard, but it's Captain ordered that the body of the dead Japanese pilot not go with his plane. Overnight the crew sewed a Japanese flag and next day he was interred at sea in the naval manner, with a 6 gun salute and an honor guard. After the war, Navy researchers were able to identify the young man, and that flag was presented to his family. Even in war, there is recognition of our common humanity.

     Pearl Harbor still is our largest naval base in the Pacific. Aegis destroyers are in dock; two nuclear submarines lie low and squat in the water for resupply before another mission. I spoke on the shuttle out to USS Arizona with a young Navy submariner, here with his wife and small baby, awaiting assignment to his next post - a new nuclear attack sub now heading to Pearl. He was young, obviously competent, and very proud; he wore immaculate dress whites to pay his respects to those sailors who served before him on the Arizona. He matter-of-fact spoke of their ability to, as he put it, “put a warhead on the forehead” of any enemy, and of how he and his fellow sailors are the most highly trained in the world. I believe him.

     So it is that in the span of a single day one can see where WW2 for the US started, how it was fought, and where it ended – on the deck of the USS Missouri. That spot is memorialized with a gold plaque inlaid in the ship's wooden deck. Your tour guide will tell of the many calculated insults MacArthur employed when the Japanese dignitaries came on board to capitulate. A copy of that document they signed is there for viewing. Striking, to me, was that MacArthur had arranged for every available warplane in service to fly over Tokyo moments after the surrender was signed. All bomb bay doors were open, and all planes were fully armed. Any treachery or equivocation, which was considered quite possible, would have rather sudden consequences. Thankfully, those bombs were never dropped.

     A poem, penned by Eleanor Roosevelt, is engraved near where the shuttle to Arizona docks. I cannot remember it exactly, so I must paraphrase: “A man in this ship died protecting me. I must make my life to merit his sacrifice.” Indeed so.