Remembering Pearl Harbor
I spent several years stationed in Hawaii, a wonderful duty station, coveted throughout the services. Upon arriving in February 2009, one of the first places we visited was Pearl Harbor. In addition to being one of the most beautiful places in America, it is also one of the most conflicting. While parts of the Harbor are still an active military base, others are a National Memorial honoring those who lost their lives on the morning of December 7, 1941. It is, at both times, one of the most joyful and sobering places I have seen.
Over the period we lived in Hawaii, we went to “Pearl” several times. Mostly when family or friends visited, and we ran them through the tourist route. Pearl Harbor never seemed to disappoint anyone. The museum, the ferry ride to the USS Arizona memorial, the memorial itself, and the Battleship USS Missouri all tell the story of the attack and WWII.
As a historian, or maybe it is just in my nature, I make it a point to observe others, hoping to catch something in their interpretation of history that I overlooked. I hope to broaden my own sense of things. The experience of Pearl Harbor is hard to nail down. It seemed that even in my own feelings, no two visits were the same.
Pearl Harbor is so many things to so many people.
My first visit as a tourist only hit the highlights - although it did include a great discussion and book signing with a retired Naval Officer who wrote on the Pacific Campaign. (I am a sucker for a book signing) During one Christmas, for the price of a few donated canned foods, the ferries that normally shuttle visitors to the USS Arizona, took us around the harbor at night to see the submarines and ships docked in the harbor. All covered in lights as the crews held a Christmas decoration contest. My wife and I attended a Marine Corps Birthday Ball hosted on the battleship, USS Missouri. Both visits were happy and joyful times, but the glow of the Arizona memorial in the dark of the harbor always called my attention. A reminder of the price that was paid on what should have been a normal joyful Sunday morning.
Beautiful and sobering.
My final visit was 7 December 2011. The 70th anniversary of the “day of infamy”. I had planned to attend the ceremony for months. My family had already moved to our next duty station and none of my co-workers were interested in going. So, I would go alone. Although it was my fourth or fifth visit, I wasn’t prepared for what I would experience.
The park was packed. WWII veterans, both American and Japanese, some Pearl Harbor survivors, were in attendance. Overwhelmed and at a loss as to where to start, I just followed the crowd. Soon the opening ceremony began with flyovers and speeches. It was then that I began to understand the gravity of what this visit meant. As the President of the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association spoke, he acknowledged that there were fewer than 100 survivors left alive. He closed with an announcement that the Association would be disbanded after the event. The impact of that could be felt across the crowd and many began to cry.
After the ceremony, I spent the day visiting with every Pearl Harbor Survivor that I could find. They were often surrounded by small groups who listened as the vets’ told stories. Not just of that December morning, or the recovery, or of the war, but of their friends, families, and life after the war. Their expressions ranged from laughter to reflection in the matter of seconds. I took in everything that I could that day, from everyone that I observed.
I left with a full heart.
I also left with a better understanding or what Pearl Harbor is. My initial thoughts weren’t too far off. It is different things to different people. To the average tourist, it may be a glimpse at a moment in American history. For the military service members who serve as ferry pilots and chaperones for Pearl Harbor survivors it is a solemn duty and reminder that their service can include the ultimate sacrifice on any given morning.
For those survivors and other WWII veterans, I will not attempt to put their experiences into words. Only they can do that. But they expressed that Pearl Harbor, to them, meant not just lives lost but also lives lived. Lived in remembrance of the friends they would never see again.
In total, 2,390 American service members and civilians were killed during the attack. 1,177 of those on the USS Arizona alone. Oil continues to leak from the wreck of the Arizona, a symbol of the tears it sheds for its wounds and lost crew. It is estimated that it will continue to leak for 500 years. The final Arizona survivor, Lou Conter, past in April 2024. He was 102.
Survivors may have their ashes interred in the wreck. On my final visit, I observed such an interment. A survivor, who after a full life lived chose to return to his ship. Laid to rest with his shipmates. Forever.
The attacked plunged America into a war that would span the globe for four years and cost an additional 400,000 American lives.
Less than two dozen military survivors of the Pearl Harbor attack remain. We are so very close to losing these treasures forever. The Pearl Harbor Survivors Association may have been disbanded, but their work continues through the Sons and Daughters of Pearl Harbor Survivors.
