Sunday in hell, p.31

Sunday in Hell, page 31

 

Sunday in Hell
Select Voice:
Brian (uk)
Emma (uk)  
Amy (uk)
Eric (us)
Ivy (us)
Joey (us)
Salli (us)  
Justin (us)
Jennifer (us)  
Kimberly (us)  
Kendra (us)
Russell (au)
Nicole (au)



Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

  To cool the weapon, Townsend shot a hole in his World War I helmet, making a funnel out of it, so that nearby water on the ground could be scooped up and poured into the small hole in the water jacket of the machine gun, permitting them to fire away until all the ammunition was exhausted. Sergeant Townsend and Lieutenant Roesch later received the Silver Star for heroism in action.33

  Zekes and Vals Rake Ewa

  At the Marines’ Mooring Mast Field, Ewa (pronounced Eva), on the southwest coastal plain of Oahu, near Barbers Point, the first wave hit as the Japanese began their deadly assault on Ford Island and the ships in Pearl Harbor. At 0740, when Fuchida’s air armada closed to within a few miles of Kahuku Point, the forty-three Zekes split away from the rest of the formation, swinging out north and west of Wheeler Field, the headquarters of the Hawaiian Air Force’s 18th Pursuit Wing. Passing further south, at about 0745 the Soryu and Hiryu divisions executed a hard, diving turn to port and headed north toward Wheeler. Eleven Zekes from Shokaku and Zuikaku simultaneously left the formation and flew east, crossing over Oahu north of Pearl Harbor to attack NAS Kaneohe Bay. Eighteen Zekes from Akagi and Kaga headed toward what the Japanese called Babasu Pointo Hikojo (Barbers Point Airdrome) - Ewa Mooring Mast Field.

  In the officers’ mess at Ewa, the officer-of-the-day, Captain Leonard W. Ashwell noticed two formations of aircraft at 0755. The first looked like eighteen “torpedo planes” flying at 1,000 feet toward Pearl Harbor from Barbers Point, but the second, to the northwest, comprised “about 21” planes just coming over the hills, from the direction of Nanakuli, also at an altitude of about 1,000 feet. Ashwell, intrigued by the sight, stepped outside for a better look. The second formation, of single-seat fighters, the two combat units from Akagi and Kaga, flew just north of Ewa and wheeled right. Then, flying in a “string” formation, they commenced firing. Recognizing the planes as Japanese, Ashwell burst back into the mess, shouting, “Air Raid…Air Raid! Pass the word! He then sprinted for the guard house to have “call to arms” sounded.34

  The eighteen Zekes, two divisions of nine each, their belly tanks plainly visible, had descended from over the Waianae Mountains, rolled out of their turns into the string formation and came straight at Ewa from the north, northwest at an altitude of 1,000 feet, descending toward altitudes as low as 25 feet.

  Corporal Earl Hinz, who joined the Marine Reserves in Minneapolis in 1937, while attending the nearby University of Minnesota, had been called to active duty with his entire Marine reserve squadron on 16 December 1940. Ordered to San Diego to join with two other squadrons to form Marine Air Group Two as part of an Expeditionary Force, they arrived in Hawaii on the carrier Enterprise, and later were designated Marine Air Group (MAG) 21. He helped build the operating base out of dusty sugar cane fields near Ewa. By mid-July 1941, when ground and flight operations were in progress, the men at Ewa were quite certain war with the Japanese was imminent, but none knew where it would begin. They were still building and expanding the base when the attack came, and by the date of the attack, there were only two or three revetments built, and no airplanes occupied them.

  At 0755 the morning of the attack, Ewa’s bugler sounded: “Assembly for Colors.” It was customary to stand at attention when Colors sounded, but this time that posture lasted only moments before Earl Hinz and everyone else realized they were under attack by airplanes bearing the “red meatball” insignia of the Japanese Empire. No one at Ewa had to be told “man your battle stations.” Everyone dispersed at double speed, Earl to his station on the base’s only fire truck.

  They were in the cantonment area when “Assembly for Colors” and the attack came, and were about a half mile by road from base operations and the flight operations control tower – which was atop an approximate 100-foot steel tower originally erected as a mooring mast to service the giant airships (dirigibles) the Navy constructed in the 1930s. During flight operations, the fire truck was normally parked near the operations building, close to the control tower.

  As he was closest to the truck, Earl started its engine, while the crew chief jumped on. He headed down the road toward base operations and the runway where the Marine Air Group’s forty-eight planes were parked following Saturday’s inspection. The men realized halfway to the runway that the first wave of fighters had set fire to many of the parked airplanes - too many for one ancient fire truck to handle. Suddenly, the truck’s steering became sluggish, as though the rear tires were flat. A Zeke had made a firing pass on the truck and shot up its rear tires. He braked to a stop, they jumped out of the vehicle and took cover underneath it, waiting until the first eighteen Zekes ceased their attacks.35

  Lieutenant Commander Shigeru Itaya, from the carrier Akagi, led the 2nd Combat Unit’s nine, and Lieutenant Yoshio Shiga from Kaga, led the 1st Combat Unit’s nine from the carrier Kaga. They were targeted against Ewa and Hickam, and roared across Ewa, low, in the string formation, right down the short, wide, northwest-southeast runway, where all MAG 21’s combat aircraft were parked in neat, straight rows, wingtip to wingtip. With machine guns and canons chattering, they scored numerous hits and set fires among the parked aircraft, then pulled up, over the trees, Itaya’s pilots going straight through toward Hickam Field after one pass. Unlike Itaya and his pilots, Shiga’s unit reversed course to make blistering strafing passes on the parked aircraft from the opposite direction. They made at least eight strafing passes, concentrating their attacks on the aircraft.

  At one point during the follow-on strafing passes Yoshio Shiga found himself facing a lone Marine, firing back at the Zeke and its 7.7-mm machine guns with a pistol. According to author Gordon Prange, who interviewed the former pilot after the war, Shiga mentally “…paid him a good respect.”36

  After the first eighteen fighters had done their work, Earl crawled from beneath the fire truck, looked at the flat tires, left the vehicle and hurried on foot toward base operations.

  Ten or fifteen minutes after the initial attacks by Itaya’s and Shiga’s Zekes, two more fighter units followed, eight from the 3rd Combat Unit led by Lieutenant Masaharu Suganami from Soryu, and six from the 4th Combat Unit led by Lieutenant Kiyokuma Okajima from Hiryu. These fourteen had come south to Ewa from Wheeler, after their devastating attacks on the 18th Pursuit Wing. Val dive bombers leaving Wheeler with empty bomb racks also visited the Marine Air Station to complete their work with more strafing passes using their two cowling-mounted machine guns. The Zekes and Vals coming from Wheeler concentrated on buildings and people, not even sparing hospital tents.37

  Between the first and second attacks, which began at approximately 0835, when the Zekes and Vals came south from Wheeler, the Marines hurriedly began preparing for what they knew would be a follow-on air attack and possibly an invasion. Before the hard hit base could get reorganized to mount a successful antiaircraft defense from the ground, the Japanese returned. In the midst of the preparations for the third attack which ended about 0915, Earl was surprised to see the fire truck at its normal alert position near the tower, its tires obviously repaired or replaced.38

  At Ewa, one parked aircraft after another was destroyed or set on fire in the initial onslaught, exacting a toll of nine of eleven F4F fighters and eighteen of thirty-two SBD-1 scout bombers. Men rushed out of their tents and ran through the fire for their planes, intent on pulling them away from the fires. The area flamed with blazing puddles of gas spilled from tanks.39

  Ewa’s primary fire truck driver, Corporal Duane W. Shaw, who apparently had the tires repaired or replaced after Earl Hinz left for the base operations area, knew the planes already burning at the end of the runway couldn’t be saved. He hoped to save valuable equipment such as guns and spare parts. He raced the bright red truck out onto the exposed runway and was caught in the third attack. The 1930 vintage vehicle refused to go over 42 miles per hour, and was immediately attacked by fighters roaring low over the runway from the north. A strafing Zeke shot off the rear tires again, ending his valiant try in a screech of shredded rubber. When an officer complimented him afterward for having driven into a hail of bullets, Shaw said, “Hell, Lieutenant, I saw a fire, and I’m supposed to put ‘em out.”

  When their old fire truck succumbed to the relentless strafing attacks, its crew abandoned it, and went their separate ways on foot to get guns, ammunition and further orders.40

  By the time the final attack by Val dive bombers occurred beginning about 0930, Ewa’s Marines were well along in preparing to defend against further attacks. The base commander, Lieutenant Colonel Claude A. Larkin had issued a written order signed by the executive officer, Lieutenant Colonel William J. Wallace, outlining unit responsibilities for air and ground defense of Ewa:

  UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS

  HEADQUARTERS, MARINE AIRCRAFT GROUP TWENTY ONE,

  2ND MARINE AIRCRAFT WING, FLEET MARINE FORCE, EWA, OAHU, T.H.

  December 7, 1941

  1. (a) This group has been attacked by air and it is reported that the enemy is still in the vicinity so that a ground attack is probable.

  (b) The U.S. Army is covering and protecting all territory outside of the perimeter of EWA FIELD.

  2. This group will immediately take designated positions to protect this field by manning machine gun emplacements and establishing patrol around the field.

  3. (a) VMJ-252 man machine guns at the tower. When alert is sounded the remainder of the squadron will assemble in area No. 1.

  (b) VMF-211 man machine guns as shown on chart. When alert is sounded the remainder of the squadron will assemble in area No. 2.

  (c) VMSB-231 man machine guns as shown on chart. When alert is sounded the remainder of the squadron will assemble in area No. 3.

  (d) VMSB-232 man machine guns as shown on chart. When alert is sounded the remainder of the squadron will assemble in area No. 4.

  (e) HQ&SS-21 man machine guns as shown on chart. A patrol of twelve men, or as many as necessary, will keep continuous watch around the perimeter of the field during daylight. When the alert is sounded the remainder of the squadron will assemble in areas No. 5 and No. 6.

  (x) When alert is sounded all men will assemble with arms, ammunition and accouterments.

  2. Assembly areas will be prepared for defense and personnel will be prepared to attack on orders.

  3. One spare crew for all machine guns will be in reserve in the vicinity of machine gun positions.

  4. All personnel will draw gas masks.

  5. All personnel will keep dispersed in and out of assembly areas.

  6. Ammunition will be drawn from central ordnance, the guard house or squadron ordnance departments.

  Commander, Marine Aircraft Group 21

  Headquarters Office

  Message Center, Headquarters Office

  BY ORDER OF LIEUTENANT COLONEL LARKIN

  Official:

  S.E. RIDDERHOFW.

  Major, U.S.M.C.

  Operations & Training Officer.

  J. WALLACE.

  LtCol., U.S.M.C.

  Executive Officer41

  The attacks on Ewa weren’t yet over. The second wave would soon follow, but the base defenders would be better prepared for the final round, and the attack’s aftermath.

  Chapter 6

  Inferno, Carnage, and Valor: Attack on the Pacific Fleet

  ETERNAL FATHER, STRONG TO SAVE

  WHOSE ARM HATH BOUND THE RESTLESS WAVE

  WHO BIDS THE MIGHTY OCEAN DEEP

  ITS OWN APPOINTED LIMITS KEEP

  OH HEAR US WHEN WE CRY TO THEE

  FOR THOSE IN PERIL ON THE SEA

  From the Navy Hymn

  At a point roughly opposite Haleiwa Field, Commander Mitsuo Fuchida signaled the general attack at 0750. One minute later Lieutenant Commander Shigeharu Murata called on his torpedomen to execute their attack. Northwest of Ewa the torpedo bombers split into two groups of eight planes each under Nagai and Matsumura and continued their accelerated descent toward the west side of Pearl Harbor. Another flight under Murata and Lieutenant Ichiro Kitajima, composed of two groups of twelve planes each, flew southeast, then turned north and northwestward in a wide arc over Hickam Field and headed directly for the battleships on the east side of Ford Island. By the time the second two flights of twelve swung wide and roared over Hickam Field, they had descended to their target attack altitude of approximately 50 feet.

  Each torpedo group attacked in formations of twos and threes. Each pilot had been instructed to close in on his target, even at the risk of his life. He would make additional runs if his observer-bombardier thought he might miss. After several passes, if the observer couldn’t get a good sighting, the pilot would use his good judgment and choose another target. Forty Kate torpedo bombers were now rapidly approaching their low altitude dash to weapons release, two groups of eight fanned into flights of two or three, from the northwest - with their major targets moored on the west side of Ford Island; two groups of twelve subdivided and fanned into flights of twos and threes, from the east and southeast, their targets, the battleships.

  These latter two groups were the planes men at Hickam Field saw fly low and fast across the southeast side of the field just prior to the dive bomb and strafing attacks on the bomber command base - and two of the twenty-four Kate torpedo bombers were seen by 13-year old Peggy Littmann and her 16-year old cousin standing for a few moments outside his parents’ Navy officers’ quarters.

  Commander Fuchida, now opposite Barber’s Point with his high-level bombers, flashed Tsu, tsu, tsu on the Kate’s radio-telegraph, a signal similar to his earlier To, to, to, but this time only to his group. The deadly noose was closing around Ford Island, Pearl Harbor, and the United States’ Pacific Fleet.1

  Awaiting confirmation of the submarine sinking report from a PBY aircraft in VP-14, Patrol Wing TWO’s Lieutenant Commander Logan Ramsey stood near a window of the Ford Island command center, watching the color guard prepare to hoist the flag. Lieutenant Frank Erickson, U.S. Coast Guard, the Ford Island duty officer, was also watching Marine Corps Privates First Class Frank Dudovick, James D. Young, and Private Paul O. Zeller, 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.

  At about 0755 the scream of a plane diving over the station caught Lieutenant Commander Ramsey’s attention. He turned to Lieutenant Richard Ballinger, the command center duty officer, and said, “Dick, get that fellow’s number, for I want to report him for about sixteen violations of the course and safety regulations.” Each man looked out separate windows to follow its track. “Dick, did you get his number?” Ramsey asked. “No, but I think it was a squadron commander’s plane because I saw a band of red on it,” replied Ballinger.

  “Check with the squadrons and find out which squadron commanders’ planes are in the air,” Ramsey ordered. That exact instant Ballinger reported, “I saw something black fall out of that plane when it completed its dive.”

  Exactly at 0757 an explosion reverberated from the hangar area, and Ramsey’s expression immediately changed. At the same instant, Lieutenant Erickson heard two explosions in rapid succession, sending him running to the window. He reached it just in time to see a Kate torpedo bomber fly past 1010 Dock, coming toward Ford Island, and release a torpedo, which moments later struck the battleship California.

  Hearing Ballinger’s report of “…something black…out of that plane, brought an immediate reaction from Ramsey. Instinctively, he exclaimed, “Never mind the squadron commander, Dick. That was a Jap plane and a delayed action bomb.” Ramsey raced across the corridor to the radio room and ordered all radiomen on duty to send in plain English: “AIR RAID, PEARL HARBOR. THIS IS NOT DRILL.”

  At exactly 0758 one of the most famous radio messages ever dispatched clicked over the airwaves and reverberated around the world. Admiral Kimmel’s headquarters followed with a similar message, but it was Lieutenant Commander Logan Ramsey who first sent the words that waked the United States of America from its long sleep.

  As the dive bombers pressed their attacks, Ramsey dispatched a second message ordering all patrol planes to assigned sectors. The objective was to locate the Japanese Fleet. He was unaware how futile the effort would be. He called his boss, the Patrol Wing TWO commander, Rear Admiral Bellinger, who was at his quarters on his first day out of bed since his bout with the flu. “The Japanese are attacking!” The skeptical response came, “You wouldn’t kid about a thing like that,” and Ramsey had some difficulty convincing Bellinger he wasn’t kidding.

  The Japanese already had complete control of the air over Ford Island and were everywhere else savaging the Navy’s and Army Air Force’s capability to search for the carrier strike force. He frantically tried calling Patrol Wing ONE at Kaneohe, to get their PBYs in the air, but their situation was already worse than Ford Island’s. They were scrambling to save what they could. The sky over Ford Island and Pearl Harbor swarmed with Japanese planes. Within a few minutes Takahashi’s dive bombers destroyed about half of Ford Island’s complement of carrier-based planes, and made a shambles of the hangars. By the time Ramsey finished his call to Kaneohe the waters lapping at Ford Island, were alive with desperate rescue activity.

  Ford Island’s commanding officer, Captain Shoemaker, arrived at the seaplane parking apron, jumped out of his car and gazed at an appalling spectacle of flaming aircraft and the hangar burning fiercely. Scarcely one plane remained undamaged on the apron. He caught sight of a petty officer and some sailors ducking behind what protection they could find. He put them to work pulling untouched aircraft away from the fires. That was about all they could do, for when the Ford Island fire fighters arrived, there was no water pressure. Arizona had sunk on the water mains.

 

Add Fast Bookmark
Load Fast Bookmark
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Scroll Up
Turn Navi On
Scroll
Turn Navi On
155