LargeSlowTarget
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Joined: 9/23/2000
From: Hessen, Germany - now living in France
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Pearl Harbor, 0745 December 7th, 1941
A glorious sun filtering through the portholes into the wardroom of the Navy hospital ship “AH-5 Solace” announced another bright and calm Sunday morning. A small group of doctors and nurses was spread among the tables, enjoying breakfast. Since arriving at Pearl Harbor on October 27th, 1941, the medical staff aboard Solace had enjoyed a rather leisure existence, interrupted by the treatment of a few sailors injured in accidents, a somewhat higher number of sailors bruised in barroom brawls, and an even higher number with VD problems.
Visitors provided a welcome change from the daily routine. Early this morning, Navy surgeon Dr. Howard Owen Smith Jr. had welcomed aboard his colleague and old childhood friend, Army medical doctor Eric Haakenson. They had studied together, but then decided to pursue careers in different services. After years of practicing in different parts of the States, fate in the form of the military bureaucracy had posted both of them to Hawaii at the same time. Last Sunday, Smith had visited Haakenson at his post at Tripler Hospital, Fort Shafter, today it was his friend’s turn to visit him aboard the Solace.
Smith was still finishing his breakfast, while Haakenson had already pushed his plate and coffee mug aside and was busy checking the 8 mm camera in his hands. He had just charged it with a fresh spool of Kodachrome color film. Smith observed him with amusement. “Eric, you have already been a camera nut at med school and I see this hasn’t changed! I think you would be more successful as a photographer than you are as a physician!” Smith taunted his old friend.
“I see - you know as much about cameras as you know about surgery, my dear Howard” the Army doctor answered with a grin. “That is, not much. It’s not a camera for taking still photographs, it’s a film camera – for movies, you understand?” he explained.
Smith chuckled and took a sip from his coffee mug before continuing: “I cannot believe you have brought your camera with you today just for the “morning colors”. Why don’t you take your time to finish breakfast with me? As a doctor you should know that it is not healthy to eat in a hurry! And you can photogra… I mean film the “morning colors” another day. It’s the same ceremony every day, I don’t understand what is so special about it to make a movie?”
“Well, I want to show it to my fellow Army doctors - I have been told that “morning colors” is the smartest thing the Navy has to offer.” Eric grinned again at his friend. “Looking at what the Navy hired for their medical staff, it might be true.”
Smith exploded – with laughter. “Same old Eric, quick-witted and wisecracking like on the good old days!” he took it in stride. Then with a quick glance at his watch he turned serious again. “It’s 0750. We should go on deck now if you don’t want to miss the show, first call to colors is at 0755.”
Grabbing his film camera, Haakenson nodded and both men left the wardroom to go topsides. Working their way aft towards the fantail, they observed the harbor scenery. A low-pitched humming of distant aircraft was faintly audible. The sound seemed to come from several directions, but with the Naval Air Station located on Ford Island in the middle of Pearl Habor and with Ewa Field of the Marines and Hickam Field of the Army Air Corps nearby, the noise of aircraft engines was not unusual.
Solace was moored close to the eastern end of Ford Island. There were other ships all around her. Most of them Haakenson didn’t know by name, but he had spent enough time at Pearl and other Army installations shared with the Navy to be able to identify their types. To the northwest, a pack of destroyers were moored side by side to their tender, a bit farther away to the north floated a second tender with a similar pack of “tin cans”. Northeast of Solace’s bow sat a modern light cruiser, bristling with multiple triple-gun turrets – USS Phoenix. Just 50 yards due southeast rode the decommissioned old cruiser Baltimore, used as a receiving ship. On her port side were two destroyers of the obsolete “four stacker” class. To the south and southwest, a line of huge ships hugged the shores of Ford Island – battleship row, the pride of the Navy.
As they arrived at the fantail and joined the officer of the deck – a young ensign - and the sailors charged to execute the flag raising ceremony, the distant sound of droning aircraft engines grew louder. Looking up, one could see the tiny pecks of aircraft circling around the harbor. The Army doctor heard a sailor muttering: “Looks like the damned Army Air Corps is staging a drill! On a Sunday and during morning colors!”
Haakenson ignored the slight insult of his service branch and turned to his friend who was pointing to the battleship closest to Solace, about a hundred yards away. It sported an unusual main battery – a turret with two guns superfiring a turret with three guns on each end. “This is the Nevada, the oldest battleship of the Pacific Fleet – commissioned in 1916!” Smith explained. On Nevada, Haakenson could see the battleships’s band assembled on the large deck aft for a morning colors ceremony that would have all the trimmings – national anthem included. It would make an impressive movie – too bad that his friend Howard hasn’t been posted to a battleship, Haakenson thought fleetingly.
“The next one in line is the Arizona, just a few months younger than Nevada” Smith continued, “the other battleships further down the row are partly hidden by the corner of Ford…” His explanation was interrupted by a bugle call. At the same time, the "PREP" pennant was hoisted at the outboard signal halyard on the port yardarm – it was exactly 0755 on Sunday December 07th 1941 and the time-honored ceremony of the morning colors was only minutes away. It was the same scene on all ships in the harbor. Haakenson re-checked his camera and then started wondering how he would be able to film and salute the flag correctly according to regulations at the same time - he hadn’t thought about that.
His dilemma was solved all of a sudden by the roar of a rapidly approaching aircraft and a loud bang from the direction of Ford Island. Haakenson spun around to see a column of smoke rising from the hangars hidden behind the machine shops and mess halls on Ford Island. Obviously something had exploded on the other end of the island. A few more explosions followed and the same insolent sailor exclaimed in disbelief “Why are these stupid bastard of the Army bombing us?” More men – and women – arrived topsides, alerted by the noise, to stare dumbfolded at an increasing number of diving, banking and zooming aircraft and explosions and smoke rising all around them. It was the same scene on every other ship in the harbor. Across the strip of water separating them from Solace, Nevada and Arizona looked like beehives, with sailors running around like mad.
“Look!” - Smith’s outstretched arm pointed in the direction of 1010 dock. Haakenson saw several low-flying aircraft streaking over the Navy yard heading towards Ford Island and battleship row. Long objects were detaching themselves from the planes and splashing into the harbor water, then the planes zoomed over Ford Island and banked sharply away. A few moments later several explosions could be heard and huge geysers of water were rising above the masts of several battleships down battleship row. Only then the ugly truth began to dawn in Haakenson’s mind. Turning to his friend, Haakenson said in a calm voice: “The Army Air Corps doesn’t have torpedo planes, Howard. They are either Navy or not American at all.” As if to confirm, a plane streaked by very low, Haakenson could see the pilot looking at him, grinning and waving his hand, and he saw a huge red circle on the fuselage. “Damned it, those are Japs!” the sailor next to him shouted, finally realizing his error.
The sailors on the other ships had realized as well – the sound of bugles and pipes calling to general quarters could be heard over the noise of the planes and explosions, and on a few ships machine guns started firing back at the attackers. As a hospital ship, Solace had no armament whatsoever, so Smith and Haakenson could only watch the unfolding drama. No wait, he could do something – Haakenson raised his 8 mm camera. Scanning the sky, he spotted a group of 10 level bombers heading for battleship row. His friend’s involuntarily prophetic warning about not missing the show flashed through his mind as he started to film. The bombers were crossing Arizona from stern to bow and bombs started to impact below. Haakenson kept his camera glued on her.
Arizona exploded – with violence. A cataclysmic blast seemed to lift her bow into the air, then a giant ball of fire and thick black smoke burst from her innards and obscured the ship. An ear-shattering thunderclap momentarily drowned out the crescendo noise of planes, guns, bombs and what else.
Peering through his camera in shock and awe, Haakenson felt nonetheless relieved that his friend hadn’t been posted to a battleship. Then he felt someone grabbing him by the shoulder. “Eric, the captain has ordered our boats and launches lowered to rescue survivors. We will need every available doctor – let’s go, we need to get ready for emergency surgery!” Smith shouted in his ear. Haakenson stopped filming and followed his friend to the operating rooms. It was 0810 – the first wounded arrived aboard Solace 10 minutes later. The episode of calm peacetime duty at the lovely Hawaii outpost had come to a dramatic end.
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< Message edited by LargeSlowTarget -- 5/31/2020 12:17:10 PM >
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