Kit Kittredge settled back into her seat with a contented sigh, her eyes dancing with anticipation.
The aspiring big-league journalist and current small city reporter for the Cincinnati Register and her best friend, Ruthie Smithen, both seventeen now, had come to the theater to watch a show that had come out in the spring, but was being replayed for the Christmas season. Kit had decided that Meet John Doe was her new favorite movie and with the big holiday just over two weeks away, both girls were ready for a couple hours of relaxation.
Christmas, however, weren't the only thing on the young journalist's mind. She was also elated that her good friend Jack, a head-strong reporter at the Register, had been chosen to report on the peace talks going on between the Americans and Japanese in Washington. After the movie, she intended to find out if he'd sent in another report, then she'd finish her Christmas shopping.
Ruthie appraised her friend critically, then rolled her eyes and laughed merrily.
"Aw, come on, Kit," she said, twisting a strand of her dark-chocolate colored hair around a slender finger, then unwound it, "Meet John Doe came out in March and we've seen it three times." She poked her vivacious blonde friend's ribs, adding, "And two of those were on the sly because we couldn't afford tickets."
"I'm glad that they're replaying it for the holidays," Kit replied. Squirming a little in her seat, she added, "And even more glad that my holiday bonus covers the cost. I felt like a childish fool sneaking in twice last spring."
Ruthie rolled her eyes, "I suppose you didn't consider a bribe?"
Kit's dimples flashed briefly, "If I could afford to bribe someone, I could afford my own ticket."
"There's more ways to bribe someone than with cold hard cash," she coughed into her hand, adding, "Tom Sawyer."
Again Kit's smiled, but had no time to reply before newsreels of the war in Europe began to fill the screen. Soon burning English cities, goose-stepping Nazis on parade, aerial dog fights, and Hitler's screaming speeches filled the screen. There were also a few scenes of Japanese brutality in the Pacific, but mostly the reels concentrated on Europe.
Finally, Ruthie shook her head despairingly, muttering, "Dear Lord, those poor people."
After a few moments of reflection, she added, "I'm glad that our friends don't have to go over there."
Another pause, then she spoke again, "Dad says that more people are working because we're sending supplies to the British and the Russians. I'm pleased with that, but seeing all those burned out buildings and the people huddled in bomb shelters makes me feel bad for being happy." She looked quizzically at Kit, "Do you think that it's wrong for me to be glad people have jobs when they're getting blown to bits?"
Kit hesitated, then slowly shook her head, "I guess I don't know, but I don't think they'll mind if we're happy to have jobs available and we're working again."
Ruthie was still anxious, "Do you think our supplies are doing any good?"
"I hope so," Kit replied, then smiled thoughtfully.
"What is it?" Ruthie asked, noticing her peaceful confidence.
"I was just thinking about King George VI." Kit replied, "A man from the New York Times stopped by our office several years ago. He said that King George had the most horrible stutter before he was King—apparently he'd heard the King—or Duke of York then—speak at Wembley Stadium a few years back."
Remembering, she added, "The New York Times man said that he could have died a thousand deaths for the Duke that day. I can't imagine being a public figure who stutters. It must have been horrible."
"Really?" Ruthie's tone was disbelieving, "I would never have guessed." She cocked her head, "What's that got to do with what's happening in Europe?"
"Think silly," Kit replied, gesturing toward the screen, as Hitler's voice blasting voraciously across the theater, "Hitler can talk up a storm and he's incited millions—if not billions—of people to do what he says. Say what you will, but the man has a way with words."
She paused to be sure that she had Ruthie's attention, then made her point, "But who won the Battle of Britain? Not the Germans, that's for sure. And who is the King—the voice, if you will—of the British?"
Ruthie's eyes glimmered with new respect. "Hmm, King George," she said, "I see your point, the British King has a lot of nerve."
As the final reel faded into a blank screen, she sighed, "I just hope they can win it."
Suddenly, instead of the film's opening scene coming into view, the theater's lights blazed on, sending shocked murmurs rippling through the crowd. The two teens stiffened in their seats, instinctually knowing that something was amiss. The murmuring continued as a bespectacled theater employee tore down the aisle, taking his place in front of them. His face was ashen and his hands shook. The room grew silent as a tomb, waiting for him to speak; the only sound came from the paper, softly rattling in his shaking hands.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced, his voice emotional, "I'm sorry to have to tell you, but the rest of today's shows have been canceled."
Another murmur circled the room—this one ringing with discomfort and unease more than shock. The crowd waited for more and the man proceeded to read the dispatch in disbelieving monotone.
"This morning, at approximately 8am Hawaiian time, the Japanese Imperial Navy conducted a surprise attack against our Naval Fleet at Pearl Harbor."
The audience gasped as one and the theater man paused briefly to compose himself. Though he'd already read the dispatch, saying the words aloud tore his heart. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tried to forge ahead, but the audience awoke from their shocked slumber. Confusion quickly gave way to out-right fury.
"How dare they do that!" an old colonel in uniform growled from the back of the room, his face taunt and his eyes flashing angrily. He waved his cane in defiance.
"I thought Washington was trying to make peace with them!" snapped a business man, his expression twisted with wounded pride.
"What a dirty farce!" his associate snarled beside him, "Talking peace while they load they're planes with bombs,"
"Where the heck is Pearl Harbor?" a young woman's voice cried out, shrill with anxiety, "My husband is in the Coast Guard off California."
"It's in Hawaii ma'am—the island of Oahu." a young man in uniform answered, dazed by the news, "I just got back from there." Then he added painfully, "Some of my friends are still there."
"Pearl Harbor?" a small boy wailed, panic-stricken, "My older brother is out there!" His mother held him tightly, trying to calm him, but her own face was ghostly white.
"Please, Please," the theater employee's voice rose to be heard. He held up his hands, gesturing for silence, "Please, I have more to read."
Seeing that most of the crowd wasn't paying the slightest attention to the man now, Kit, though numbed by the news, got to her feet and let out a loud whistle. Ruthie, unaccustomed to that sort of thing, even from her rambunctious best friend, was startled for a moment, then smiled.
Good ole Kit, she thought, that was just the thing that needed doing.
"Uh, thank-you, miss," the man stammered, startled by the young lady's outburst. The theater was silent again.
Kit settled back into her seat, nodding once. "You're welcome," she whispered.
The theater employee unconsciously pushed his glasses higher on his nose, swallowed hard, then continued, wincing as he read the list of targeted areas.
"Ford Island, Kaneohe Bay, Ewa, Bellows, Wheeler, and Hickam airfields have all taken significant hits."
"Good Lord, that's awful," he muttered aloud, taking a moment to add a personal side comment, before continuing, "I didn't even know Hawaii had room for all that."
He forged ahead with difficulty, "Causalities and damage is still being assessed at this hour, but the cost in both lives lost and damage to our fleet to the fleet is expected to be high."
Their messenger grimaced again, but pushed on.
"All enlisted men are hereby ordered to return to their duty stations immediately. All furloughs are canceled and you will remain on your bases to await further instructions. God bless us all."
After he finished speaking, the theater man just stood still, not knowing what else to do. The audience remained in their seats, trying to digest the enormity of the national loss and almost everyone unconsciously began nursing a rising anger toward their new enemy. Finally, three young men in uniform, sitting in a middle row, quietly rose to their feet.
"It seems as though our vacation just got cut short, fellas," one said softly.
"I hate it when my vacation gets ruined," another replied sadly.
"Yeah, let's go do something about those guys who ruined our vacation." a third growled.
Spontaneous applause broke out as the three men headed toward the exit. Right on their heels, several other uniformed men followed. Soon every civilian in the room was on their feet for an ovation.
The old colonel, who had spoken earlier, struggled to his feet and hobbled to the door. He leaned heavily on his cane as the young men hurried toward him, but somehow managed to stand erect and salute each one as they passed. "I wish I was going with you, boys," he lamented, "But the Kaiser gave me a few too many mementos to remember him by."
"Don't worry, pops," one of the young men replied, gripping the older man's arm respectfully, "We've got this one."
As the last of the men filed through the door, the audience began to talk amongst themselves. A few random curses were uttered, but most of the people just wondered what their government might do to respond to the awful tragedy.
Kit, remembering her friend's assignment, turned to Ruthie, "I'm going to the office. Maybe Jack has filed a new report."
Ruthie nodded soberly. "I'm going home. My cousin is here on furlough." She wiped her eyes, "I hope I can get there before he leaves." The two lifelong friends shared a long embrace, then quickly parted to their own tasks.
Kit ran the five blocks to the news office but made no attempt to catch her breath once she'd breezed through the door. She simply snatched the closet available telephone off a desk and began spinning the rotary dial.
"Don't bother with the phone, Kitty dear," James, her boss' twenty year-old nephew, said. He came to her side, his coat over his arm, "The wires will be overloaded, what with the news." He smiled understandingly and gripped her shoulder, "Jack will call the moment he can."
Kit, as if the tragedy was only now hitting home, looked sickened and bit her lip. "We got hit today, didn't we?"
"Yes, we did, Kitty," James agreed, speaking softly. He'd always been fond of her and he wanted to comfort her now, but he could hardly comfort himself.
How can I comfort her if I can't comfort myself, he thought mournfully.
Finally, he reached out and squeezed her hand. It seemed like a feeble gesture, but he couldn't think of anything else to do.
Suddenly she focused on his coat, "Are you going out?"
"Yes, Kitty."
"Where are you going?"
He grimaced slightly, not wanting to worry or upset her.
"I'm going to sign up," he said simply.
"Sign up?"
"Yes, a recruitment station has been set up at the YMCA. They're calling for people to join the service. A lot of guys are going in." He paused to read her expression and decided that it was blank; she was waiting for him to continue, "I heard the line is already three blocks long and the news has been out for less than an hour."
He smiled encouragingly, "I don't know which branch I'll sign up with yet, but I'm going to go in. I'm not going to sit around here when I'm perfectly capable of doing my part."
"We're really going to go to war then?" Kit asked softly, looking down at the desk.
"I'm sure we are, Kitty," James said, "President Roosevelt and Congress won't let them get away with this." He gripped her arm, lifting her distraught eyes to meet his determined ones, "It's going to take a lot of nerve to win this, but this nation has nerve."
Slowly, her expression began just as determined as his. She answered, "Yes, we do."
Author's Notes: I've been wanting to do American Girl fictions since I started my page, but I've found other stories to occupy myself with. Now, since the Fourth of July is here, I thought it would be a great time to post my first one. Happy Fourth of July to everyone! Happy Birthday, USA!
I put in the bit about King George VI because I really enjoyed The King's Speech.
I chose a theater setting for breaking the news about the attack on Pearl Harbor because my grandparents were dating then, and had just come out of the show when they heard the news. My Grandfather was already in the Army and he went home and changed into his uniform upon finding out. He went on to serve in both France and Iceland. He and my Grandmother married in 1943, when he was on a furlough and she worked as a typist at Fort Benning GA while he was serving.
My other Grandfather was a flight instructor for the Army Air Corp during the war.
I also used a few bits and pieces from other stories that I've read or heard of about people reacting to the new out of Pearl Harbor.
A Look Back: On Dec. 7, 1941, the Japanese Imperial Navy pulled off a surprise attack upon the US Navy's Pacific Fleet. In just under two hours, they are able to sink or heavily damage eight battleships, three destroyers, three cruisers, one minecraft, five auxiliary ships, 159 aircraft. 2,335 servicemen are killed and 1,143 are wounded. 68 civilians are killed and 35 wounded.
The US Navy had 8 aircraft carriers in 1941, but none happened to be in Hawaii on the day of the attack. They would have been the prime target, but they weren't there.
The United States declared war on Japan on Dec 8 and on Germany and Italy, Japan's allies, on Dec. 11. The British also declared war on Japan on Dec 8, following Japanese attacks on Malaysia, Singapore, and Hong Kong. They were already at war with Germany (Sept. 3, 1939) and Italy (June 10, 1940). The US, which had formerly been hesitant to get involved in the war, became untied in resolve to win after the attack.