“I’m all right,” said Danny, sitting up with a groan. “Just need to get onshore and never leave again.”
As they puttered over to the capsized Oklahoma and picked up four more sailors, Joe scanned the horizon for Pop or Skipper. There was so much wreckage floating in the splashing waves around them that it was hard to pick out one thing from another. A number of times the thing that he was almost positive was a dog turned out to be a piece of debris or a floating shirt.
“Have you heard anything about a Marcus Dean?” he asked one of the coast guard officers. “He was a mess officer from the West Virginia?”
“Sorry, kid, haven’t heard anything,” he said.
Joe’s heart sank. He gulped and tried to fight through it. “What about a dog?” he asked.
The coast guard officer squinted at him. “A dog?”
“Look!” All heads turned to Seaman Norman, who was having a fit pointing over the edge of the boat. “Over there! I heard her, honest to God! It’s the same bark as before!”
One of the coast guard officers began trying to restrain Norman, but then Harper began pointing and shouting too.
Joe went to the edge of the boat and peered into the bobbing waves full of debris.
Whuff!
There! In the distance, he could make out Skipper paddling her way through the smoke and wreckage. She was dragging something with her . . . a person, someone big, by the looks of her struggling . . .
“She’s got my dad!” shouted Joe. And now, after all he’d been through, tears finally poured from Joe’s eyes and rushed down his face. “It’s Pop! Skipper saved him!”
Epilogue
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1941
2:20 P.M.
“Yesterday, December 7, 1941,” said President Roosevelt, “a date which will live in infamy . . .”
“Joe, turn that radio off,” said Mama. “The noise is tough on my nerves.”
“Never get tired of it,” said Pop with a laugh. He held Baby Kathy to his chest and bounced her as she cooed and giggled. “It’s rare you get to hear history as it happens. Heck, if I get the Navy Cross, I’ll be part of history!”
“Joe,” said Mama, “the radio, please.”
Joe went to the radio and turned off the rerun of President Roosevelt’s war declaration. He had to agree with Mama—he’d heard the speech at least a dozen times since it had been made. He wouldn’t mind a little quiet.
Joe weaved his way back to Pop’s bedside. Getting around the hospital room was difficult; the place had become a maze of flowers, balloons, and cards . . . along with plenty of dog biscuits and chew toys.
In the two days since the attack, over a dozen different sailors had come forward with a story about Marcus Dean and his wonder dog. If half of what Joe had heard was true, Pop had saved countless men, but he couldn’t have done it without Skipper’s help. The press had picked up the story and was running piece after piece on the hero dog of Pearl Harbor. Now every grateful family, newspaper, and local business wanted to make sure Pop was furnished with flowers and decorations.
It was Pop’s other heroic acts that had interested the navy. Pop had shot down fourteen Japanese planes (only now did they know it was the Empire of Japan who had attacked Pearl Harbor), and he had protected Captain Bennion through the brunt of the attack. That, plus his heroics with Skipper, had led to rumors that he would receive the Navy Cross, an award that until now had never been given to a black man. Mama said it was making him “a symbol of hope for black people everywhere.” Joe just thought he was the greatest.
“Besides, we got a family of Pearl Harbor heroes here!” said Pop. “The president’s talking to men like us!” He reached out one arm and pulled Joe in for a hug. Then he let his hand drop over the edge of the bed to scratch Skipper on the head. Skipper had sat diligently by Pop’s side since they brought him into the hospital, breaking only to let Joe take her for walks.
“Are you going to try to get a combat position, Pop?” asked Joe. “Once you get better, of course.”
“You know it,” Pop said, giving him an extra squeeze on the shoulder. “Now that we’re at war, I want to meet the guys who planned this attack and give them a piece of my mind.”
“Not so fast, buddy,” said Mama. “You’ve got a ways to go before the doctors declare you fit to serve, and you’ve got a son and a baby at home.”
“I know, honey, but I can’t just forget that there’s a war on,” said Pop. “Right, Skipper?” Skipper barked, getting a smile and another ear scratch from Marcus.
“Whatever happens, I’m just glad you’re safe for now,” said Mama. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Joe could see that even though the idea of Pop going to war pained his mother, some of the determination and moxie floating around had rubbed off on her. Mama’s home had been attacked too. She knew something needed to be done.
“Joe?” Joe looked up to see Millie at the door. On her blouse was the pin Joe had started seeing all around Oahu. It featured a rippling American flag and the words “Remember Pearl Harbor.”
“Hey, Millie,” he said. He was happy to see her, but his heart ached a little when he remembered why she was here. “Is Danny ready?”
“He is when you are,” said Millie. “Hey, Mr. Dean, congratulations on all your recognition.”
“I’m just happy we made it out alive,” said Marcus. “And I owe a lot of that to our friend here. Take good care of her.” Marcus put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Skipper leaped up and put her paws on the side of the bed, and Marcus leaned over and gave her a hug around the neck. “Thank you, Skipper. Be a good girl and go with Joe.”
Joe snapped a leash on Skipper’s new collar—a gift from a local pet store—and he and Millie walked Skipper in the hospital hallways. They were almost at the door when a voice made Joe stop in his tracks. He crept to a nearby room door and peeked in.
“Well, they need to change their policy,” said Seaman Norman to the ring of soldiers circled around him. He had his foot in a cast dangling over his bed via a sling. His own room was filled with cards and flowers, though his cards had more pin-up girls on them than Pop’s did.
“What, and let colored folks serve?” asked one of the sailors.
“Darn right,” said Norman. “We’re all in this together. We can’t act like one group of people’s any better than another.”
“Aw, come on, Norman,” said Mulvaney, the other sailor from the dock. “You were saying just last week that colored folks don’t have what it takes to serve.”
“You’re right, Mulvaney,” said Norman after a moment of silence. “I did say that. But I was wrong, dead wrong. Until Sunday, I didn’t know what I was talking about. When I was on that ship, I learned that brave is brave, no matter what color you are or where you come from. We’re not going to win this war thinking the opposite.” He sighed. “Wish I’d known that. It’s a cryin’ shame that it took Sunday for me to learn it. But I’ll never forget it.”
“Tell it again, Norman,” said one of the other sailors. “Tell us how it happened.”
“All right, one last time,” he says. “So we’ve just counterflooded the Wee Vee. I land on my foot wrong and pretty much break the damn thing. I’m hobbling down this passageway hearing the water behind me and thinking, Welp, this is it. And who comes running toward me but Marcus Dean and his dog!”
What! Marcus Dean? Joe felt a flash of anger. He’d saved Norman, not Pop! He considered running in there and telling everyone that it had been him who’d saved Norman—
No. He exhaled his anger and turned away. Let Pop have the story. Norman probably just didn’t want to admit that he’d been saved by a kid. Besides, it sounded like Norman had gotten the important part of the message. Joe was just happy to be alive and safe.
Downstairs, Danny was waiting next to his jeep. Someone had told Pop that Danny was being called a hero for leading the counterflooding charge on the West Virginia (even if the ship did eventually sink, despite their efforts
). Up close, Joe thought he seemed a little pale and tired to be a hero—he looked almost entirely recovered, but Joe still noticed his peaked complexion and the bandage on his forehead.
“You look good!” said Joe as they approached.
“Better than I did, anyway.” Danny laughed. He shook Joe’s hand. “Thanks for doing this, Joe. I think you’re making the right choice, and I know the boys’ll be grateful.”
Joe nodded through his sadness. “Yeah,” he said. “Skipper belongs with the navy. After what happened on Sunday, I figure you guys need a dog as smart as she is, especially if you’re going to war. Just promise me you’ll bring her home to visit, okay? Don’t let her fall in love with some French poodle and stay in Europe.”
“I’ll do my darnedest.” Danny laughed.
Joe knelt down in front of Skipper. She looked at him with attentive but worried eyes; Joe knew that she could tell what was going on. She whined a little and gave Joe a lick on the face.
“I wish I could’ve known you longer, Skipper,” he said. “Thank you for saving my life, and for helping my dad. We never could’ve done this without you.” Joe felt his eyes sting. This time he didn’t try to act brave—he just let the tears flow. “I’ll never forget you. And I’ll see you real soon, okay?”
He threw his arms around Skipper’s neck and buried his face in her fur, smelling the salt of the sea and feeling the beating of her heart. Then he let her go and took a step back.
“Up, Skipper,” said Danny, patting the bed of his jeep.
Skipper looked from Joe to Danny and back again.
“Up, Skipper,” said Joe, his voice cracking. This time Skipper obeyed, and she hopped up into the back of the jeep. Danny waved goodbye to Joe and Millie, hopped in the front seat, and got the jeep grumbling to life. Then he drove off, with Skipper looking back at Joe until they were out of sight.
Joe wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he said to Millie.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” she said. “It’s okay to feel upset. She was your friend. But I agree with Danny—this is the right thing to do.”
“I’m just going to miss her a lot,” said Joe. “I don’t think I’ll ever find another dog as great as her.”
“About that,” said Millie with a strange smile. “Come with me. Kai wants to show you something.”
They got on their bikes and rode through the streets of Oahu, weaving between crowds of people. Everyone was out in full force today, helping board up shops that had been hit with machine gun fire and collecting necessities like blankets and food for people whose homes had been destroyed in the attack. Memorial shrines had popped up along the main streets, and dozens of people lit candles and placed flowers in memory of their loved ones. The biggest crowds were at the recruiting office, where men and women were lined up around the block hoping to offer their help in the war effort. Almost all of them wore a pin with the slogan “Remember Pearl Harbor” on it.
Joe could tell that this was only the beginning. Sunday had left everyone feeling panicked, upset . . . and determined. They’d remember, all right.
“Look, there he is,” said Millie. She pointed to a shrine in front of a storefront full of bullet holes. Kai stood there with his shoulders hunched along with several older native Hawaiian people. They all circled a pile of candles and flowers surrounding pictures of older men and women. Joe and Millie stopped and watched as Kai draped a white lei over one picture and began to walk away.
“Kai!” called Joe. They came up next to their friend. Joe had never seen him look so sad. “What’s up? What were you doing?”
“It’s just a memorial for the man who owned that shop,” said Kai. “He passed away during the attack. My family knew him, but my parents were busy, so I came to throw a lei. It’s a tradition.”
“Huh,” said Joe. “I didn’t even think about Hawaiians having funerals.”
Kai’s expression darkened with anger. “Because all we do is surf, right? And dance the hula, and sell shell necklaces, and make rum drinks for stupid sailors on the beach . . .”
Then Kai broke down crying. Joe was stunned—he didn’t know what had happened, and he’d never seen Kai cry before, even when he’d gotten bumped or scraped while they’d been out on their bikes.
Without thinking, he hugged his friend, and Millie hugged them both. Joe even felt himself crying a little, just a few tears. A few days ago, he would’ve been embarrassed to let anyone see him cry. Today, he felt like he’d earned it.
“Sorry,” said Kai, pulling away from them and wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I didn’t mean to get angry at you. It just seems like sometimes, with everyone saying, ‘Remember Pearl Harbor,’ they forget about Hawaii. Like the Hawaiians who died are less important than the soldiers.”
“It’s all right,” said Joe. He remembered what Seaman Norman had said in the hospital. “We’re all in this together.”
“No matter what,” said Millie.
Kai sniffed. “Thanks, guys.” He gave Joe a sad smile. “Millie told me about Skipper. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” said Joe. “I think she’ll do well with the navy. I’m just sad that I don’t have a dog anymore.”
Kai and Millie shared a glance and a smile. “My bike’s over this way,” said Kai, waving them down the street. “Follow me.”
They rode into a nice suburb and down to the beach where the three of them had first met. They dropped their bikes, and Kai led them along the beach, smiling the whole time. Whenever Joe asked what was up, Millie shushed him. Finally, they reached a patch of tall grass on the edge of the beach, and Kai waved Joe forward. Joe crept up and parted the grass.
They were island puppies—three tiny dogs with patchy colors in their fur and long, pointed faces. They were wrestling, tumbling, and growling in high-pitched little voices. Joe felt his heart leap as he watched them fall all over one another.
“I saw their mom get caught by the local dog catcher yesterday and found them here,” said Kai. “I figure there’s one for each of us.”
“Maybe you can teach them to be as smart as Skipper,” said Millie.
“Maybe,” said Joe, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He got down on his knees, and the pups stopped playing and looked at him. He extended a hand, and one of them walked up tentatively, smelled it, and gave it a lick.
Joe thought about the past couple days, about all he’d been through and seen. He knew things were going to be different—for him, for Pop, for the entire world. But for now he could enjoy this moment, knowing that he’d done what was right, and that he was lucky for everything he had.
Nighttime. The ship lay quiet, the men inside having eaten, cleaned up, and headed to bed.
Skipper stood on the deck of the boat and felt the sea breeze move through her fur. She missed Joe, but she had to admit that she liked it here at night.
Skipper knew she wasn’t supposed to be up on deck, but she’d found a way to get out of her room in the ship, a crack between two pipes. The humans would have to get used to it—she was beginning to understand that this was her new home, on the ship with Danny. If that was the case, she had to know every way in and out of her room. She’d have to memorize every smell in every corner of this boat.
After all, these humans would need protecting when they weren’t ready for it. She’d have to be there whether they’d come to let her out or not.
She saw a flicker of lightning out on the ocean that made her whine. It had been an exciting few days, with meeting Joe, being on the ship during all the noise and burning, saving the human pups with Joe’s father, and now here, on a boat surrounded by human pups who all seemed to like her. She wondered what else might happen soon—what other scary things and hapless humans might cross her path.
No matter what, she was ready for it. These humans were her pups, all of them, and she’d protect them with everything she had.
For a moment she caught Joe’s smell on the air, and
she looked over at the lights on the island. She missed him, but she knew that Joe would be okay. He had Joe’s father and Joe’s mother to look out for him. And anyway, he was a smart pup. Resourceful, brave, and kind.
After enjoying one last breath of night air, Skipper headed back to the door down into the ship. She silently crept along the corridors, slipping between the pipes and into her room in the back of the kitchen. She lay down on the bed of towels the humans had given her and rested her head. She had better sleep. It was a tough time to be a dog, and tomorrow was another busy day.
Picture Insert
Battle Facts
Pearl Harbor isn’t just a dramatic setting—it was one of the most important military attacks in history. It was the most deadly attack by a foreign nation on US soil, and a turning point for World War II.
Here are some handy facts to know about Pearl Harbor and how it affects this story . . .
What happened at the battle of Pearl Harbor?
At 7:55 a.m. on December 7, 1941, the Empire of Japan attacked the United States at Pearl Harbor, America’s most important naval base in the Pacific, located on the island of Oahu in Hawaii Territory (Hawaii was not yet a US state at the time of the attack).
The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor with six aircraft carriers and five submarines, and they did so without provocation or any formal declaration of war. The attack focused on multiple spots in and around Pearl Harbor, including Hickam Airfield and Wheeler Army Airfield. The most concentrated attack was on Battleship Row, a collection of eight US battleships that were moored next to Ford Island.
The attack lasted only ninety minutes, but it cost over two thousand Americans their lives. Several battleships were destroyed, most notably the USS Arizona, which exploded and sank, and the USS Oklahoma, which capsized. The next day, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt declared that America would join the war against Japan and its allies, most notably Nazi Germany.
Soldier Dogs #2 Page 7