Civilians, or people who are not in the military, were affected as well. More than sixty of them were killed. The attack was felt all around the island. Seventeen-year-old Keiko Nakata was working in her parents’ taro patch out in Kahaluu, a small farming community. Even though she was far away from Pearl Harbor, she heard the sounds of gunfire. She thought it was a drill until a bomb dropped into the neighbor’s yard.
Children all over the island were huddled together with their families, wondering what was happening. They listened in fear as the planes zoomed overhead. They cringed as earth-shattering explosions ripped through the air. Some even watched in horror as gigantic fireballs surged high into the sky. In less than two hours, the lives of all the people in Hawaii were drastically changed in ways they could never have imagined.
As the sounds of the Japanese planes faded off into the distance, more loud explosions filled the air. Pearl Harbor was on fire! Damaged ships lay partially submerged in the water. Oil seeping from the engines pooled on top of the water and caught fire, sending huge clouds of black smoke into the air. Thousands of sailors trapped in the wreckage faced the horrifying choice of sinking with their ships or jumping into flame-filled waters. Many who jumped were immediately burned by the oil. Surrounded by smoke and burning fuel, they struggled to breathe, struggled to stay afloat, struggled to stay alive. Those who were trapped on their ships pounded desperately against thick metal walls, screaming for help, hoping to be heard and rescued before their ships were completely submerged. No one knew if the attack was over or if more planes were on the way.
Three stricken US battleships after the attack
In the midst of the chaos, people rushed to help. Military personnel jumped into small boats, dodging smoke and flames, risking their own lives to pull survivors to safety. Civilians jumped into action, too. One of the most amazing rescues happened aboard the USS Oklahoma. A team led by Julio DeCastro, a Honolulu native, worked for twenty-five hours straight. They cut through a compartment on the ship and rescued the men who had been trapped with little air and rising water. All thirty-two sailors made it out alive. They were lucky. Many of the sailors trapped elsewhere on the ship did not survive.
Some of the injured were transported to the hospital on the base, while others went to the USS Solace—a fully equipped medical ship that functioned as a hospital at sea. It was docked in the harbor and, incredibly enough, it did not suffer any damage.
On land, ambulances wailed as they rushed people to the hospital. Doctors, nurses, and medics worked furiously, treating broken bones, cuts, bullet wounds, and severe burns. Many of the men were critically injured and needed extensive care. There were so many wounded that they didn’t all fit into the base hospital. Some patients were laid out on the lawns outside the hospital. Dining halls and barracks, or sleeping quarters, were converted into temporary hospitals.
Five-year-old Jean Lawson was living with her parents at Schofield Barracks. Her father was in the army and stationed at Pearl Harbor. Just like any normal Sunday morning, she was waiting to go to Sunday school. Suddenly, she looked up and saw planes buzzing right over her house. She heard loud clacking noises as empty casings from used gun cartridges fell like hail onto their roof. Her father hurried to his office at the nearby naval base, bullets flying all around him. Jean’s mother clutched her in her arms and ran to the barracks for safety. Once inside, Jean, her mother, and her grandmother were herded into a small room along with other women, children, and even a few family pets. A soldier stood guard at the window, rifle in hand. Jean didn’t know what was going on, but she knew she was scared. Later that night, Jean, her mother, and her grandmother were packed on a bus and evacuated to a schoolhouse in the hills for safety. Jean eventually left Hawaii with her mother and grandmother.
Within hours of the attack, Hawaiian governor J. B. Poindexter declared a state of emergency. Civilians were ordered to stay in their homes and off the roads. Armed soldiers patrolled the city, keeping the streets clear for military and rescue vehicles. Civilians were also told to stay off the phone so the landlines were clear for military or emergency calls. Panicked families could not contact loved ones to find out if they were safe.
Armed soldiers standing guard at Wheeler Field after the attack
Desperate for information, the people of Hawaii stayed glued to their radios. There were no televisions, no twenty-four-hour news stations, and no Internet in Hawaii in 1941. Radio was the only source of immediate news. But at 11:41 a.m., almost four hours after the attack began, all the radio stations suddenly went off the air.
The silence made the horror of the attack even worse. Many people kept their radios on, listening to static and waiting for news—any news. Others tuned to the police band, listening to police officers communicate with one another in hopes of getting more information. Rumors quickly spread. People said that the water supply was poisoned, the city of Honolulu was on fire, and Japanese soldiers were hiding in the hills and fields around Pearl Harbor. None of these claims were true, but without any connection to real news, it was impossible to know for sure what was real and what was a rumor.
Scared and confused, islanders listened to the wailing of sirens and ambulances and the rumbling of military vehicles. They waited in their homes, wondering what would happen next. Was there another attack coming?
As the day wore on, it was difficult to know what was really happening. The fear of the unknown was overwhelming. No one knew if the attacks were over, and everyone wondered if there would be another wave of planes. Would the Japanese invade the island?
At 3:30 p.m., the radio stations came back on the air with the announcement that Hawaii was under martial law. Then all stations went off the air again so that the Japanese couldn’t use the radio signals to find the islands and return for another attack.
Martial law meant that the military now controlled everything. A new military governor was in charge, and he had the right to put special laws into place that every person living on the islands had to obey. Effective immediately, no one could be outside from 6:30 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. Anyone who was outside during those hours had to have a military pass. Anyone without a pass could be fined or arrested. If someone was visiting friends and didn’t leave before 6:30, she’d have to stay at her friend’s house all night—and after 6:30, the friends would not be allowed to play outside.
Also effective immediately were nightly blackouts. All windows had to be closed and covered with dark fabric or paper. Streetlights and exterior lights on buildings and businesses had to be off. Very few cars were allowed on the road at night, and any that were had to shield their headlights. All these rules ensured that it was completely dark at night. If enemy planes returned, there wouldn’t be any light to help them find the islands. Block wardens patrolled neighborhoods, making sure it was dark. If they found any sign of light, they made sure it was put out. The wardens could even fine those who broke the rules.
Nightly blackouts were difficult and sometimes scary. Islanders who were used to enjoying cool breezes through their open windows now had to spend long hours in their dark, stuffy homes. Most didn’t have electric fans. Simple actions, such as taking a bath, eating a meal, or talking to family members were eerie and unsettling in the dark. For many it was a scary and uncomfortable situation that went on night after night: a constant reminder of the horrible attack.
June Yoshida, who was a small child at the time, vividly remembers the nightly blackouts. They were not allowed to use regular light bulbs. Instead, they had to paint the bulbs black except for a small circle on the bottom. The small amount of light that shone through the open area was all that she could use to read her book.
President Franklin D. Roosevelt signing the declaration of war against Japan
After the first blackout, islanders awoke to news. On December 8, 1941, US president Franklin D. Roosevelt formally declared war on Japan. The United States was now involved in World War II. Life changed for all Americans, and especially for those l
iving in Hawaii.
A newspaper headline from the day after the attack
Under martial law, the military controlled every part of daily life in Hawaii. School was immediately canceled, and some school buildings were turned into military hospitals. Students had no idea when classes would start again—if at all. This break from school wasn’t like a vacation. Christmas was a few weeks away, but war loomed over the holiday. The ship that was bringing Christmas trees from the mainland turned around after the Japanese attack, so the trees were never delivered. Mandatory blackouts meant shops and homes couldn’t display holiday lights.
The military told businesses when they could open and when they had to close. Movie theaters had only two showtimes: noon and 2:00 p.m. Restaurants stopped serving at 4:00 p.m. so workers and customers could get home before the 6:30 curfew. As more and more military people came to Hawaii, there were long lines at restaurants and shops, and public transportation was crowded. People had to plan extra time for their normal, everyday activities. They also had to know where to find a public bomb shelter in case of another attack or an air raid drill. An air raid drill was practice—in case of another attack. When people heard sirens wailing, they ran for shelter. Some ran to a bomb shelter, or to a bunker that gave them shelter. At home, every civilian had a bunker in their yard. Digging a shelter in the ground was another rule of martial law. Everyone had to have a safe place to go if there was an attack.
All communication was censored, which meant it was reviewed and sometimes changed. The military took over newspapers, magazines, and radio broadcasts to ensure that only approved information was shared. They controlled the telephone company and monitored calls. The military was afraid that people on the islands might accidentally share information that would help Japan plan another attack. That meant no one was allowed to talk about the weather or discuss anything about the construction or repairs taking place on the islands—especially at Pearl Harbor. Mail was censored, too. That meant that every letter going out of or coming into Hawaii was opened and read—and sometimes changed—before it was delivered.
A few weeks after Pearl Harbor was bombed, everyone in Hawaii over the age of six had to be fingerprinted and carry an identification card. If there was an emergency, people could be properly identified. The military also ordered citizens to carry a gas mask at all times in case the Japanese attacked the islands with poisonous gas. Joan Rodby, who was ten years old at the time, remembers getting her large, uncomfortable gas mask. When her school finally reopened in February 1942, Joan had to take her gas mask with her to her classes. Her school had drills to see how fast the students could put them on. If the air raid siren went off, they needed to have the gas masks on immediately. Breathing poisonous gas, even for a few seconds, would be deadly. Joan, like every other student, hung her gas mask off the back of her desk chair while she was in school. When she left, the gas mask was slung over her arm or hanging from her books. Joan said the gas mask was like having an extra arm with you all the time.
A student is fitted for a gas mask at her school in Honolulu
Military families considered “non-essential” by the government, such as the wives and children of military personnel, were sent to the US mainland. Families and friends were torn apart with no idea of how long they’d be separated. Nearly 30,000 women and children left the island.
Helen Griffith Livermont was thirteen when she was evacuated from Oahu with her mother and sister, leaving her army father behind. Helen left in April 1942, and the ocean liner taking her to the mainland was packed with other women and children who were leaving family and friends behind. The journey was scary. Several armed navy ships traveled alongside the ocean liner as it left Honolulu to keep it safe from the Japanese submarines that were rumored to be in the waters. Helen worried that their ship could be sunk, and she had no idea how long it would be until she saw her father—or Hawaii—again.
Martial law was put in place to make the islands—and the people who lived on them—safe. But the changes were difficult, and they served as constant reminders that Hawaii was an active war zone. The people who lived in Hawaii kept their eyes to the sky, always fearful of more attacks.
Martial law was declared on the islands not just to establish control, but also to keep track of the large population of Americans of Japanese Ancestry, or AJAs. Anyone of Japanese descent was treated with suspicion by military leaders, who thought that Americans of Japanese Ancestry would be more loyal to Japan than to America.
The government took immediate steps to prevent AJAs from communicating with Japan. The first few days after the attack, more than four hundred Americans of Japanese Ancestry were arrested. Many of them were legal US citizens. They were all jailed because they were of Japanese descent, not because they had done anything wrong.
Some who were taken into custody by the military were released after a few weeks. Others were held longer—some for four years, until the war ended. Those who remained in custody were sent to internment camps and kept against their will.
Japanese-American families arriving at an internment camp
The suspicion toward AJAs caused tension and fear among islanders with any Japanese heritage. Many worried that a government official would show up on their doorstep and take them or their parents away.
That happened to Ruth Matsuda. Within a few days of the attack on Pearl Harbor, several Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agents came to her house. They were there to take her father away. He owned a respectable trucking company, but because he had been born in Japan, the government was worried he was loyal to his former homeland. It was too risky, the FBI said, to allow Ruth’s father to remain free. Ruth’s father was very ill, and Ruth managed to convince the military not to take him away.
Internment of AJAs was not limited to the islands. Close to 120,000 Americans of Japanese Ancestory on the mainland United States were forced into internment camps. The interment of AJAs was a violation of their civil rights. These rights protect individuals from unfair treatment based on race or ethnicity. The US government ignored the rights of AJAs, believing it was necessary to keep the country safe.
In Hawaii, it was not practical to put all Americans of Japanese Ancestry into internment camps. Almost one-third of the population, more than 158,000 people, had Japanese heritage. There was no one place on the islands large enough to house that many people. Moving them off the islands was not an option. The military did not have the manpower or money to transfer them all to the mainland. Interning so many people would also cause problems for the local economy. People of Japanese ancestry ran shops and businesses. They were plantation workers and fishermen. Their skills were necessary to keep the economy going. Instead, the government chose certain members of the Japanese communities, such as religious leaders, business owners, teachers at Japanese language schools, and editors of Japanese newspapers, and sent them to camps.
AJAs who were not sent to internment camps still faced discrimination, or unfair treatment. They had earlier curfews and many travel restrictions. Many had problems being served in restaurants or gas stations. They were not allowed to live close to Pearl Harbor, where they might see military activity and report it to the enemy. If they objected to these rules, they were sent to an internment camp.
A Japanese family returns from an internment camp to find their home vandalized
To prevent suspicion, many Americans of Japanese Ancestry gave up their Japanese customs. They stopped practicing judo, a Japanese martial art, or attending Japanese language school. They didn’t display the Japanese flag, wear traditional Japanese clothing, or read books in Japanese—all things they were able to do freely before the war.
Despite the racism they experienced, many American men of Japanese ancestry were eager to defend the United States. They were patriotic and loyal and wanted to join the military. When the war began, Japanese American men over the age of eighteen flocked to recruitment centers to enlist. They were turned away. The US government class
ified them as “enemy aliens” and refused to allow them to serve.
Two years into the war, in 1943, the US needed more soldiers. The military ban against AJAs was lifted. President Franklin D. Roosevelt supported the end of the ban, saying, “Americanism is a matter of the mind and heart; Americanism is not, and never was, a matter of race or ancestry.” When the army called for 1,500 new volunteers in Hawaii, more than 9,500 Japanese Americans showed up, eager to prove their loyalty to America.
A Japanese American soldier is awarded the Bronze Star Medal for heroism in 1945
The Japanese Americans that volunteered became the 100th Infantry Battalion/442nd Regimental Combat team. It was an all Japanese American unit made up mostly of men from Hawaii. The unit fought some of the fiercest, most difficult battles in the war, facing horrible conditions. These brave men were willing to risk their lives for a country that mistrusted and mistreated them.
On December 7, 1941, when Governor Poindexter declared a state of emergency, he asked the people of Hawaii to be willing to help in any way they could. Islanders—including children—responded immediately, volunteering to help in many ways. Their willingness to help was rooted in kokua. Kokua means “assistance” or “a good deed.” Helping others is part of the culture of Hawaii, and islanders do so without expecting reward or praise. Kokua had always been important to the people of Hawaii, but now, it was more important than ever.
The day after the attack, children from church groups, Girls Scouts, Boy Scouts, and the Junior Red Cross showed up to work. They went to hospitals, first-aid stations, evacuation centers, canteens, and offices. Girls and boys ran errands and delivered supplies. They cooked, served food, and cleaned up for aid workers and volunteers in evacuation centers.
Pearl Harbor Page 2