<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1 id="Infamous_Day">Infamous Day:<br/> Marines at Pearl Harbor 7 December 1941</h1>
<p class="in0 larger b1"><i>by Robert J. Cressman and J. Michael Wenger</i></p>
<p>On the afternoon of 6
December 1941, Tai
Sing Loo, the colorful
Pearl Harbor Navy
Yard photographer, arranged
with Platoon Sergeant
Charles R. Christenot, the noncommissioned-officer-in-charge
of the
Main Gate at the Navy Yard, to have
his Marines pose for a photograph
between 0830 and 0930 Sunday
morning, in front of the new concrete
main gate. The photo was to be for
a Christmas card.</p>
<p>As war clouds gathered over the
Pacific basin in late 1941, the United
States Pacific Fleet operated, as it
had since May 1940, from Pearl Harbor.
While the security of that fleet
and for the island of Oahu lay in the
Army’s hands, that of the Navy Yard
and the Naval Air Stations at Pearl
Harbor and Kaneohe Bay lay in the
hands of Marines. In addition, on
board the fleet’s battleships, aircraft
carriers, and some of its cruisers, Marines
provided security, served as orderlies
for embarked flag officers and
ships’ captains, and manned secondary
antiaircraft and machine gun
batteries—seagoing duties familiar to
the Corps since its inception.</p>
<p>The Marine Barracks at Pearl Harbor
comprised a Barracks Detachment
and two companies, A and B,
the men living in a comfortable
three-story concrete barracks. Company
A manned the main gates at the
Submarine Base and Navy Yard, and
other “distant outposts,” providing
yard security, while Company B enforced
traffic regulations and maintained
proper police and order under
the auspices of the Yard Police
Officer. In addition, Marines ran the
Navy Yard Fire Department. Elements
of Marine defense battalions
made Pearl Harbor their home, too,
residing in the several 100-man temporary
wooden barracks buildings
that had been completed during 1940
and 1941. Less commodious but no
less important was the burgeoning
airbase that Marines of Marine Aircraft
Group (MAG) 2 (later 21) had
hewn and hammered out near Barbers
Point—Ewa Mooring Mast Field,
home for a Marine aircraft group
consisting of fighting, scout-bombing,
and utility squadrons.</p>
<p>On 27 November, having been privy
to intelligence information
gleaned from intercepted and translated
Japanese diplomatic message
traffic, Admiral Harold R. Stark, the
Chief of Naval Operations, and General
George C. Marshall, the Army’s
Chief of Staff, sent a war warning to
their principal commanders on
Oahu, Admiral Husband E. Kimmel,
the Commander in Chief, Pacific
Fleet, and Lieutenant General Walter
C. Short, the Commander of the
Hawaiian Department. Thus adjured
to take appropriate defensive measures,
and feeling that his more exposed
advance bases needed
strengthening, Kimmel set in motion
a plan that had been completed as
early as 10 November, to provide
planes for Midway and Wake. The
latter was to receive fighters—12
Grumman F4F-3 Wildcats of Marine
Fighter Squadron (VMF) 211—while
Midway was to get scout bombers
from Marine Scout-Bomber Squadron
(VMSB) 231. The following day,
28 November 1941, the carrier <i>Enterprise</i>
(CV-6) departed Pearl in Task<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">2</span>
Force 8 under Vice Admiral William
F. Halsey, Jr., Commander, Aircraft,
Battle Force, embarking VMF-211 at
sea. VMSB-231 was to embark in
another carrier, <i>Lexington</i> (CV-2), in
Task Force 12 under Rear Admiral
John H. Newton, on 5 December.</p>
<div id="ip_2" class="figcenter iscale60">
<p id="ip_2a" class="htmlonly ilarge">⦿</p>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_002.jpg" width-obs="1466" height-obs="1078" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>
National Archives Photo 80-G-451123</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Pearl Harbor Navy Yard, looking south, on 13 October 1941.
Marine Barracks complex is located to the left of the tank farm
visible just to left of center. Several temporary wooden barracks,
completed in early 1941, ring the parade ground.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>At the outset, apparently no one
except the squadron commanders
knew their respective destinations,
but the men of VMF-211 and
VMSB-231, meanwhile, apparently
ordered their affairs and made ready
for what was to appear as “advanced
base exercises.” Among those men
seeing to his financial affairs at Ewa
Mooring Mast Field on 3 December
1941 was First Lieutenant Richard E.
Fleming, USMCR, who wrote to his
widowed mother: “This is the last
time I’ll be able to write for probably
some time. I’m sorry I can’t give
you any details; it’s that secret.”</p>
<p>On the 5th, Task Force 12 sailed
from Pearl. Eighteen light gray
Vought SB2U-3 Vindicators from
VMSB-231, under 41-year old Major
Clarence J. “Buddy” Chappell, then
made the 1.7-hour flight from Ewa
and landed on board <i>Lexington</i>,
along with the “Lady Lex” air group.
Planes recovered, the force set course
for Midway. The <i>Lexington</i> departed
Pearl Harbor on the morning of
5 December. That afternoon saw the
arrival of Battleship Division One
from gunnery exercises in the
Hawaiian Operating Area, and the
three dreadnoughts, <i>Arizona</i>
(BB-39), <i>Nevada</i> (BB-36), and <i>Oklahoma</i>
(BB-37), moored in their assigned
berths at the quays along Ford
Island. The movements of the ships
in and out of Pearl Harbor had been
the object of much interest on the
part of the espionage system operating
out of the Japanese consulate in
Honolulu throughout the year 1941,
for the information its operatives
were providing went to support an
ambitious and bold operation that
had taken shape over several months.</p>
<p>Unbeknownst to Admiral Kimmel,
a Japanese task force under the command
of Vice Admiral Chuichi
Nagumo, formed around six carriers
and the most powerful force of its
kind ever assembled by any naval
power, had set out from the remote
Kurile Islands on 27 November. It
observed radio silence and steamed
via the comparatively less traveled
northern Pacific.</p>
<p>Nagumo’s mission was to destroy
the United States Pacific Fleet and
thus ensure its being unable to threaten<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">3</span>
the Japanese Southern Operation
poised to attack American, British,
and Dutch possessions in the Far
East. All of the warning signs made
available to Admiral Kimmel and
General Short pointed toward hostilities
occurring within the forseeable
future, but not on Oahu. War,
however, was about to burst upon
the Marines at Pearl Harbor “like a
thunderclap from a clear sky.”</p>
<h3><i>Suddenly Hurled into War</i></h3>
<p>Some 200 miles north of Oahu,
Vice Admiral Nagumo’s <i>First Air
Fleet</i>—formed around the aircraft
carriers <i>Akagi</i>, <i>Kaga</i>, <i>Soryu</i>, <i>Hiryu</i>,
<i>Shokaku</i> and <i>Zuikaku</i>—pressed
southward in the pre-dawn hours of
7 December 1941. At 0550, the dark
gray ships swung to port, into the
brisk easterly wind, and commenced
launching an initial strike of 184
planes 10 minutes later. A second
strike would take off after an hour’s
interval. Once airborne, the 51 Aichi
D3A1 Type 99 dive bombers (Vals),
89 Nakajima B5N2 attack planes
(Kates) used in high-level bombing
or torpedo bombing roles, and 43
Mitsubishi A6M2 Type 00 fighters
(Zeroes), led by Commander Mitsuo
Fuchida, <i>Akagi</i>’s air group commander,
wheeled around, climbed to
3,000 meters, and droned toward the
south at 0616. The only other military
planes aloft that morning were
Douglas SBD Dauntlesses from <i>Enterprise</i>,
flying searches ahead of the
carrier as she returned from Wake Island,
Army Boeing B-17 Flying Fortresses
heading in from the mainland,
and Navy Consolidated PBY Catalinas
on routine patrols out of the
naval air stations at Ford Island and
Kaneohe.</p>
<div id="ip_3" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 23em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_003.jpg" width-obs="364" height-obs="390" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Jordan Collection, MCHC</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Aerial view of Ewa Mooring Mast Field, taken 2 December 1941, showing various
types of planes arrayed on the mat and living accommodations at middle and right.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ip_3b" class="figright" style="max-width: 12em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_003b.jpg" width-obs="178" height-obs="219" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Jordan Collection, MCHC</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>The centrally located airship mooring
mast at Ewa from which the field derived
its distinctive name, February 1941.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>That morning, 15 of the ships at
Pearl Harbor numbered Marine
detachments among their complements:
eight battleships, two heavy
cruisers, four light cruisers, and one
auxiliary. A 16th detachment, assigned
to the auxiliary (target/gunnery
training ship) <i>Utah</i>
(AG-16), was ashore on temporary
duty at the 14th Naval District Rifle
Range at Puuloa Point.</p>
<p>At 0753, Lieutenant Frank Erickson,
USCG, the Naval Air Station
(NAS) Ford Island duty officer,
watched Privates First Class Frank
Dudovick and James D. Young, and
Private Paul O. Zeller, USMCR—the
Marine color guard—march up and
take post for Colors. Satisfied that all
looked in order outside, Erickson
stepped back into the office to check
if the assistant officer-of-the-day was
ready to play the recording for
sounding Colors on the loudspeaker.
The sound of two heavy explosions,
however, sent the Coast Guard
pilot running to the door. He reached
it just in time to see a Kate fly past
1010 Dock and release a torpedo.
The markings on the plane—“which
looked like balls of fire”—left no question
as to its identity; the explosion
of the torpedo as it struck the battleship
<i>California</i> (BB-44), moored<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">4</span>
near the administration building, left
no doubt as to its intent.</p>
<div id="ip_4" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_004.jpg" width-obs="556" height-obs="416" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>National Archives Photo 80-G-32463</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>While a Marine, foreground, looks skyward, the torpedoed
battleship</i> California (<i>BB-46</i>) <i>lists to port. In the left background
flies “Old Glory,” raised by PFCs Frank Dudovick
and James D. Young, and Pvt Paul O. Zeller, USMCR.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>“The Marines didn’t wait for
colors,” Erickson recalled later, “The
flag went right up but the tune was
general quarters.” As “all Hell” broke
loose around them, Dudovick,
Young, and Zeller unflinchingly
hoisted the Stars and Stripes “with
the same smartness and precision”
that had characterized their participation
in peacetime ceremonies. At
the crew barracks on Ford Island,
Corporal Clifton Webster and Private
First Class Albert E. Yale headed for
the roof immediately after general
quarters sounded. In the direct line
of fire from strafing planes, they set
up a machine gun. Across Oahu, as
Japanese planes swept in over NAS
Kaneohe Bay, the Marine detachment
there—initially the only men
who had weapons—hurried to their
posts and began firing at the attackers.</p>
<p>Since the American aircraft carriers
were at sea, the Japanese targeted
the battleships which lay moored
off Ford Island. At one end of Battleship
Row lay <i>Nevada</i>. At 0802, the
battleship’s .50-caliber machine guns
opened fire on the torpedo planes
bearing down on them from the
direction of the Navy Yard; her gunners
believed that they had shot one
down almost immediately. An instant
later, however, a torpedo
penetrated her port side and exploded.</p>
<p>Ahead of <i>Nevada</i> lay <i>Arizona</i>,
with the repair ship <i>Vestal</i> (AR-4)
alongside, preparing for a tender
availability. Major Alan Shapley had
been relieved the previous day as
detachment commanding officer by
Captain John H. Earle, Jr., who had
come over to <i>Arizona</i> from <i>Tennessee</i>
(BB-43). Awaiting transportation
to the Naval Operating Base, San
Diego, and assignment to the 2d Marine
Division, Shapley was lingering
on board to play first base on the battleship’s
baseball team in a game
scheduled with the squad from the
carrier <i>Enterprise</i> (CV-6). After the
morning meal, he started down to his
cabin to change.</p>
<p>Seated at breakfast, Sergeant John
M. Baker heard the air raid alarm,
followed closely by an explosion in
the distance and machine gun fire.
Corporal Earl C. Nightingale, leaving
the table, had paid no heed to the
alarm at the outset, since he had no
antiaircraft battle station, but ran to
the door on the port side that opened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">5</span>
out onto the quarterdeck at the
sound of the distant explosion. Looking
out, he saw what looked like a
bomb splash alongside <i>Nevada</i>. Marines
from the ship’s color guard then
burst breathlessly into the messing
compartment, saying that they were
being attacked.</p>
<p>As general quarters sounded, Baker
and Nightingale, among the
others, headed for their battle stations.
Aft, congestion at the starboard
ladder, that led through
casemate no. 9, prompted Second
Lieutenant Carleton E. Simensen,
USMCR, the ship’s junior Marine
officer, to force his way through.
Both Baker and Nightingale noted,
in passing, that the 5-inch/51 there
was already manned, and Baker
heard Corporal Burnis L. Bond, the
gun captain, tell the crew to train it
out. Nightingale noted that the men
seemed “extremely calm and collected.”</p>
<p>As Lieutenant Simensen led the
Marines up the ladder on the starboard
side of the mainmast tripod,
an 800-kilogram converted armor-piercing
shell dropped by a Kate
from <i>Kaga</i> ricocheted off the side of
Turret IV. Penetrating the deck, it exploded
in the vicinity of the captain’s
pantry. Sergeant Baker was following
Simensen up the mainmast when
the bomb exploded, shrapnel cutting
down the officer as he reached the
first platform. He crumpled to the
deck. Nightingale, seeing him flat on
his back, bent over him to see what
he could do but Simensen, dying,
motioned for his men to continue on
up the ladder. Nightingale continued
up to Secondary Aft and reported to
Major Shapley that nothing could be
done for Simensen.</p>
<div id="ip_5" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 38em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_005.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="508" alt="" />
<div class="caption">Oahu,<br/>
7 December, 1941<br/></div>
</div>
<p>An instant later, a rising babble of
voices in the secondary station
prompted Nightingale to call for silence.
No sooner had the tense quiet
settled in when, suddenly, a terrible
explosion shook the ship, as a second
800-kilogram bomb—dropped by a
Kate from <i>Hiryu</i>—penetrated the
deck near Turret II and set off <i>Arizona</i>’s
forward magazines. An instant
after the terrible fireball mushroomed
upward, Nightingale looked out and
saw a mass of flames forward of the
mainmast, and much in the tradition
of Private William Anthony of the
<i>Maine</i> reported that the ship was
afire.<SPAN name="FNanchor_A" href="#Footnote_A" class="fnanchor">A</SPAN> “We’d might as well go below,”
Major Shapley said, looking around,
“we’re no good here.” Sergeant Baker
started down the ladder. Nightingale,
the last man out, followed
Shapley down the port side of the
mast, the railings hot to the touch as
they made their way below.</p>
<div class="footnote">
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_A" href="#FNanchor_A" class="fnanchor">A</SPAN> Private Anthony, an instant after the explosion
mortally damaged the battleship <i>Maine</i> in Havana
harbor on 15 February 1898, made his way to the
captain’s cabin, where he encountered that officer
in the passageway outside. Drawing himself to attention,
Anthony reported that the ship was
sinking.</p>
</div>
<p>Baker had just reached the searchlight
platform when he heard someone
shout: “You can’t use the ladder.”
Private First Class Kenneth D. Goodman,
hearing that and apparently assuming
(incorrectly, as it turned out)
that the ladder down was indeed unusable,
instinctively leapt in desperation
to the crown of Turret III.
Miraculously, he made the jump with
only a slight ankle injury. Shapley,
Nightingale, and Baker, however,
among others, stayed on the ladder
and reached the boat deck, only to
find it a mass of wreckage and fire,
with the bodies of the slain lying
thick upon it. Badly charred men
staggered to the quarterdeck. Some
reached it only to collapse and never
rise. Among them was Corporal
Bond, burned nearly black, who had
been ordering his crew to train out
no. 9 5-inch/51 at the outset of the
battle; sadly, he would not survive
his wounds.</p>
<p>Shapley and Corporal Nightingale
made their way across the ship between
Turret III and Turret IV, where
Shapley stopped to talk with Lieutenant
Commander Samuel G. Fuqua,
<i>Arizona</i>’s first lieutenant and,
by that point, the ship’s senior officer
on board. Fuqua, who appeared “exceptionally
calm,” as he helped men
over the side, listened as Shapley told
him that it appeared that a bomb had
gone down the stack and triggered
the explosion that doomed the ship.
Since fighting the massive fires consuming
the ship was a hopeless task,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">6</span>
Fuqua told the Marine that he had
ordered <i>Arizona</i> abandoned. Fuqua,
the first man Sergeant Baker encountered
on the quarterdeck, proved an
inspiration. “His calmness gave me
courage,” Baker later declared, “and
I looked around to see if I could help.”
Fuqua, however, ordered him over
the side, too. Baker complied.</p>
<p>Shapley and Nightingale, meanwhile,
reached the mooring quay
alongside which <i>Arizona</i> lay when
an explosion blew them into the
water. Nightingale started swimming
for a pipeline 150 feet away but soon
found that his ebbing strength would
not permit him to reach it. Shapley,
seeing the enlisted man’s distress,
swam over and grasped his shirt
front, and told him to hang onto his
shoulders. The strain of swimming
with Nightingale, however, proved
too much for even the athletic
Shapley, who began to experience
difficulties himself. Seeing his former
detachment commander foundering,
Nightingale loosened his grip on
his shoulders and told him to go the
rest of the way alone. Shapley
stopped, however, and firmly
grabbed him by the shirt; he refused
to let go. “I would have drowned,”
Nightingale later recounted, “but for
the Major.” Sergeant Baker had seen
their travail, but, too far away to
help, made it to Ford Island alone.</p>
<p>Several bombs, meanwhile, fell
close aboard <i>Nevada</i>, moored astern
of <i>Arizona</i>, which had begun to
hemorrhage fuel from ruptured
tanks. Fire spread to the oil that lay
thick upon the water, threatening
<i>Nevada</i>. As the latter counterflooded
to correct the list, her acting commanding
officer, Lieutenant
Commander Francis J. Thomas,
USNR, decided that his ship had to
get underway “to avoid further
danger due to proximity of <i>Arizona</i>.”
After receiving a signal from the yard
tower to stand out of the harbor,
<i>Nevada</i> singled up her lines at 0820.
She began moving from her berth 20
minutes later.</p>
<div id="ip_6" class="figcenter iscale60">
<p id="ip_6a" class="htmlonly ilarge">⦿</p>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_006.jpg" width-obs="1493" height-obs="1034" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Naval Historical Center Photo NH 50931</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>View from a Japanese plane taken around 0800 on 7 December
1941. At lower left is</i> Nevada (<i>BB-36</i>), <i>with</i> Arizona (<i>BB-39</i>)
<i>ahead of her, with the repair ship</i> Vestal (<i>AR-4</i>) <i>moored outboard;</i>
West Virginia (<i>BB-48</i>) (<i>already beginning to list to port</i>)
<i>alongside</i> Tennessee (<i>BB-43</i>); Oklahoma (<i>BB-37</i>) (<i>which has already
taken at least one torpedo</i>) <i>with</i> Maryland (<i>BB-46</i>)
<i>moored inboard; the fleet oiler</i> Neosho (<i>AO-23</i>) <i>and, far right,</i>
California (<i>BB-44</i>), <i>which, too, already has been torpedoed.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ip_7" class="figright" style="max-width: 11em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_007.jpg" width-obs="173" height-obs="291" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Author’s Collection</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Col Alan Shapley, in a post-war
photograph taken while serving as an
aide to Adm William F. Halsey, Jr.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p><i>Oklahoma</i>, <i>Nevada</i>’s sister ship
moored inboard of <i>Maryland</i> in
berth F-5, meanwhile manned air-defense
stations at about 0757, to the
sound of gunfire. After a junior
officer passed the word over the
general announcing system that it
was not a drill—providing a suffix of
profanity to underscore the fact—all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">7</span>
men not having an antiaircraft
defense station were ordered to lay
below the armored deck. Crews at
the 5-inch and 3-inch batteries,
meanwhile, opened ready-use lockers.
A heavy shock, followed by a
loud explosion, came soon thereafter
as a torpedo slammed home in the
battleship’s port side. The “Okie”
soon began listing to port.</p>
<p>Oil and water cascaded over the
decks, making them extremely slippery
and silencing the ready-duty
machine gun on the forward superstructure.
Two more torpedoes struck
home. The massive rent in the ship’s
side rendered the desperate attempts
at damage control futile. As Ensign
Paul H. Backus hurried from his
room to his battle station on the signal
bridge, he passed his friend Second
Lieutenant Harry H. Gaver, Jr.,
one of <i>Oklahoma</i>’s Marine detachment
junior officers, “on his knees,
attempting to close a hatch on the
port side, alongside the barbette [of
Turret I] ... part of the trunk which
led from the main deck to the magazines....
There were men trying
to come up from below at the time
Harry was trying to close the hatch....”
Backus never saw Gaver again.</p>
<div id="ip_7b" class="figcenter iscale40">
<p id="ip_7b2" class="htmlonly ilarge">⦿</p>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_007b.jpg" width-obs="1010" height-obs="1533" alt="" />
<div class="caption">Pearl Harbor<br/>
7 December, 1941</div>
</div>
<p>As the list increased and the oily,
wet decks made even standing up a
chore, <i>Oklahoma</i>’s acting commanding
officer ordered her abandoned to
save as many lives as possible.
Directed to leave over the starboard
side, away from the direction of the
roll, most of <i>Oklahoma</i>’s men
managed to get off, to be picked up
by boats arriving to rescue survivors.
Sergeant Thomas E. Hailey, and Privates
First Class Marlin “S” Seale and
James H. Curran, Jr., swam to the
nearby <i>Maryland</i>. Hailey and Seale
turned to the task of rescuing shipmates,
Seale remaining on
<i>Maryland</i>’s blister ledge throughout
the attack, pulling men from the
water. Later, although inexperienced
with that type of weapon, Hailey
and Curran manned <i>Maryland</i>’s antiaircraft
guns. <i>West Virginia</i> rescued
Privates George B. Bierman and Carl<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">8</span>
R. McPherson, who not only helped
rescue others from the water but also
helped to fight that battleship’s fires.</p>
<div id="ip_8" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_008.jpg" width-obs="558" height-obs="366" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>National Archives Photo 80-G-32549</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Along Battleship Row, beneath a pall of smoke from the burning</i>
Arizona (<i>BB-39</i>) <i>lies</i> Maryland (<i>BB-46</i>), <i>her 5-inch/25
antiaircraft battery bristling.</i> Oklahoma (<i>BB-37</i>) <i>lies “turned
turtle,” capsized, at right. This view shows the distance “Okie”
survivors swam to the inboard battleship, where they manned
antiaircraft batteries and rescued their shipmates.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>Sergeant Woodrow A. Polk, a
bomb fragment in his left hip,
sprained his right ankle in abandoning
ship, while someone clambered
into a launch over Sergeant Leo G.
Wears and nearly drowned him in
the process. Gunnery Sergeant Norman
L. Currier stepped from <i>Oklahoma</i>’s
red hull to a boat, dry-shod.
Wears—as Hailey and Curran—soon
found a short-handed antiaircraft
gun on <i>Maryland</i>’s boat deck and
helped pass ammunition. Private
First Class Arthur J. Bruktenis,
whose column in the December 1941
issue of <i>The Leatherneck</i> would be
the last to chronicle the peacetime activities
of <i>Oklahoma</i>’s Marines, dislocated
his left shoulder in the
abandonment, but survived.</p>
<div id="ip_8b" class="figleft" style="max-width: 12em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_008b.jpg" width-obs="183" height-obs="194" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Naval Historical Center Photo NH 102556</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Sgt Thomas E. Hailey, 18 May 1942, one
month after he had been awarded the
Navy Cross for heroism he exhibited on
7 December 1941 that followed the sinking
of the battleship</i> Oklahoma (<i>BB-37</i>).</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ip_8c" class="figright" style="max-width: 12em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_008c.jpg" width-obs="180" height-obs="205" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Naval Historical Center Photo NH 102557</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Cpl Willard A. Darling, circa 1941, was
awarded the Navy Cross for heroism in
the aftermath of the Japanese air attack
on the battleship</i> Oklahoma (<i>BB-37</i>).</p>
</div>
</div>
<p>A little over two weeks shy of his
23d birthday, Corporal Willard D.
Darling, an <i>Oklahoma</i> Marine who
was a native Oklahoman, had meanwhile
clambered on board a motor
launch. As it headed shoreward,
Darling saw 51-year-old Commander
Fred M. Rohow (Medical Corps), the
capsized battleship’s senior medical
officer, in a state of shock, struggling
in the oily water. Since Rohow<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span>
seemed to be drowning, Darling unhesitatingly
dove in and, along with
Shipfitter First Class William S. Thomas,
kept him afloat until a second
launch picked them up. Strafing
Japanese planes and shrapnel from
American guns falling around them
prompted the abandonment of the
launch at a dredge pipeline, so
Darling jumped in and directed the
doctor to follow him. Again, the Marine
rescued Rohow—who proved
too exhausted to make it on his
own—and towed him to shore.</p>
<p><i>Maryland</i>, meanwhile, inboard of
<i>Oklahoma</i>, promptly manned her
antiaircraft guns at the outset of the
attack, her machine guns opening
fire immediately. She took two bomb
hits, but suffered only minor
damage. Her Marine detachment
suffered no casualties.</p>
<p>On board <i>Tennessee</i> (BB-43), Marine
Captain Chevey S. White, who
had just turned 28 the day before,
was standing officer-of-the-deck
watch as that battleship lay moored
inboard of <i>West Virginia</i> (BB-48) in
berth F-6. Since the commanding
officer and the executive officer were
both ashore, command devolved
upon Lieutenant Commander James
W. Adams, Jr., the ship’s gunnery
officer. Summoned topside at the
sound of the general alarm and hearing
“all hands to general quarters”
over the ship’s general announcing
system, Adams sprinted to the bridge
and spotted White en route. Over the
din of battle, Adams shouted for the
Marine to “get the ship in condition
Zed [Z] as quickly as possible.” White
did so. By the time Adams reached
his battle station on the bridge,
White was already at his own battle
station, directing the ship’s antiaircraft
guns. During the action (in
which the ship took one bomb that
exploded on the center gun of Turret
II and another that penetrated the
crown of Turret III, the latter breaking
apart without exploding), White
remained at his unprotected station,
coolly and courageously directing the
battleship’s antiaircraft battery. <i>Tennessee</i>
claimed four enemy planes
shot down.</p>
<div id="ip_9" class="figright" style="max-width: 12em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_009.jpg" width-obs="183" height-obs="224" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Marine Corps Historical Collection</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Capt Chevey S. White was a veteran of
service in China with the 4th Marines,
where he had edited the</i> Walla Walla, <i>the
regiment’s news magazine. White had
become CO of</i> Tennessee<i>’s</i> (<i>BB-43</i>) <i>Marine
Detachment on 3 August 1941. Ultimately,
he was killed by enemy
mortar fire on Guam on 22 July 1944.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p><i>West Virginia</i>, outboard of <i>Tennessee</i>,
had been scheduled to sail for
Puget Sound, due for overhaul, on
17 November, but had been retained
in Hawaiian waters owing to the
tense international situation. In her
exposed moorings, she thus absorbed
six torpedoes, while a seventh blew
her rudder free. Prompt counterflooding,
however, prevented her
from turning turtle as <i>Oklahoma</i> had
done, and she sank, upright, alongside
<i>Tennessee</i>.</p>
<p>On board <i>California</i>, moored singly
off the administration building at
the naval air station, junior officer of
the deck on board had been Second
Lieutenant Clifford B. Drake.
Relieved by Ensign Herbert C. Jones,
USNR, Drake went down to the
wardroom for breakfast (Kadota
figs, followed by steak and eggs)
where, around 0755, he heard airplane
engines and explosions as
Japanese dive bombers attacked the
air station. The general quarters
alarm then summoned the crew to
battle stations. Drake, forsaking his
meal, hurried to the foretop.</p>
<p>By 0803, the two ready machine
guns forward of the bridge had
opened fire, followed shortly thereafter
by guns no. 2 and 4 of the antiaircraft
battery. As the gunners
depleted the ready-use ammunition,
however, two torpedoes struck home
in quick succession. <i>California</i> began
to settle as massive flooding occurred.
Meanwhile, fumes from the
ruptured fuel tanks—she had been
fueled to 95 percent capacity the
previous day—drove out the men assigned
to the party attempting to
bring up ammunition for the guns by
hand. A call for men to bring up additional
gas masks proved fruitless,
as the volunteers, who included Private
Arthur E. Senior, could not
reach the compartment in which they
were stored.</p>
<p><i>California</i>’s losing power because
of the torpedo damage soon relegated
Lieutenant Drake, in her foretop,
to the role of “... a reporter of what
was going on ... a somewhat confused
young lieutenant suddenly
hurled into war.” As <i>California</i> began
listing after the torpedo hits, Drake
began pondering his own ship’s fate.
Comparing his ship’s list with that of
<i>Oklahoma</i>’s, he dismissed <i>California</i>’s
rolling over, thinking, “who ever
heard of a battleship capsizing?” <i>Oklahoma</i>,
however, did a few moments
later.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, at about 0810, in
response to a call for a chain of
volunteers to pass 5-inch/25 ammunition,
Private Senior again stepped
forward and soon clambered down
to the C-L Division Compartment.
There he saw Ensign Jones, Lieutenant
Drake’s relief earlier that
morning, standing at the foot of the
ladder on the third deck, directing
the ammunition supply. For almost
20 minutes, Senior and his shipmates
toiled under Jones’ direction until a
bomb penetrated the main deck at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">10</span>
about 0830 and exploded on the second
deck, plunging the compartment
into darkness. As acrid smoke
filled the compartment, Senior
reached for his gas mask, which he
had lain on a shell box behind him,
and put it on. Hearing someone say:
“Mr. Jones has been hit,” Senior
flashed his flashlight over on the ensign’s
face and saw that “it was all
bloody. His white coat also had
blood all over it.” Senior and another
man then carried Jones as far as the
M Division compartment, but the
ensign would not let them carry him
any further. “Leave me alone,” he
gasped insistently, “I’m done for. Get
out of here before the magazines go
off!” Soon thereafter, however, before
he could get clear, Senior felt the
shock of an explosion from down below
and collapsed, unconscious.</p>
<div id="ip_10" class="figleft" style="max-width: 12em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_010.jpg" width-obs="182" height-obs="211" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Naval Historical Center Photo NH 102552</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>GySgt Charles E. Douglas, 24 February
1941, later awarded the Navy Cross for
heroism on board</i> Nevada <i>at Pearl Harbor.
He had seen service in Nicaragua
and in the Legation Guard at Peking, as
well as at sea in battleships</i> Pennsylvania
(<i>BB-38</i>) <i>and</i> New York (<i>BB-34</i>).</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ip_10b" class="figright" style="max-width: 12em;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_010b.jpg" width-obs="180" height-obs="207" alt="" />
<div class="captionr"><p>Naval Historical Center Photo NH 102554</p>
</div>
<div class="caption">
<p><i>Cpl Joe R. Driskell</i>, circa <i>1941, later
awarded the Navy Cross for heroism on
board</i> Nevada <i>at Pearl Harbor. Driskell
had been in the Civilian Conservation
Corps in Wyoming before he had enlisted
in the Corps. When general quarters
sounded on board</i> Nevada (<i>BB-36</i>) <i>on 7
December, he took up his battle station
as gun captain of no. 9 5-inch/51 gun,
in casemate no. 9, on the starboard side.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>Jones’ gallantry—which earned
him a posthumous Medal of
Honor—impressed Private Howard
M. Haynes, who had been confined
before the attack, awaiting a bad
conduct discharge. After the battle,
a contrite Haynes—“a mean character
who had shown little or no
respect for anything or anyone” before
7 December—approached Lieutenant
Drake and said that he
[Haynes] was alive because of the actions
that Ensign Jones had taken.
“God,” he said, “give me a chance to
prove I’m worth it.” His actions that
morning in the crucible of war
earned Haynes a recommendation
for retention in the service. Most of
<i>California</i>’s Marines, like Haynes,
survived the battle. Private First
Class Earl D. Wallen and Privates
Roy E. Lee, Jr. and Shelby C. Shook,
however, did not. Nor did the badly
burned Private First Class John A.
Blount, Jr., who succumbed to his
wounds on 9 December.</p>
<p><i>Nevada</i>’s attempt to clear the harbor,
meanwhile, inspired those who
witnessed it. Her magnificent effort
prompted a stepped-up effort by
Japanese dive bomber pilots to sink
her. One 250-kilogram bomb hit her
boat deck just aft of a ventilator
trunk and 12 feet to the starboard
side of the centerline, about halfway
between the stack and the end of the
boat deck, setting off laid-out 5-inch
ready-use ammunition. Spraying
fragments decimated the gun crews.
The explosion wrecked the galley
and blew open the starboard door of
the compartment, venting into casemate
no. 9 and starting a fire that
swept through the casemate, wrecking
the gun. Although he had been
seriously wounded by the blast that
had hurt both of his legs and stripped
much of his uniform from his body,
Corporal Joe R. Driskell disregarded
his own condition and insisted
that he man another gun. He refused
medical treatment, assisting other
wounded men instead, and then
helped battle the flames. He did not
quit until those fires were out.</p>
<p>Another 250-kilogram bomb hit
<i>Nevada</i>’s bridge, penetrating down
into casemate no. 6 and starting a
fire. The blast had also severed the
water pipes providing circulating
water to the water-cooled machine
guns on the foremast-guns in the
charge of Gunnery Sergeant Charles
E. Douglas. Intense flames enveloped
the forward superstructure, endangering
Douglas and his men, and
prompting orders for them to abandon
their station. They steadfastly
remained at their posts, however,
keeping the .50-caliber Brownings firing
amidst the swirling black smoke
until the end of the action.</p>
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