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Pearl Harbor wasn't the only base attacked that unforgettable day . . .

MEMORIES

December 7, 1972

Lt. Colonel James Kinchloe studied the scarred wall of one of the older hangers at Hickam Air Force Base. Those scars were over thirty years old. He turned to his companion. "You were there, then, weren't you?"

HPD Officer Duke Lukela nodded. "I'd just made corporal in the old USAAF. I'd finished a course in airplane mechanics on the Mainland and had only been stationed back here a few weeks. It felt good to be back somewhere familiar. I got to see my family every few days. My Mom's cooking . . . . She was the greatest. Her barbecued chicken and pork had to be the best in the Islands!"

"What was it like? We only got the news on the radio and the newsreels, but that was bad enough."

Duke ran his hand over the scarred wall. " I was on duty that morning. It was like all hell broke loose. We had no warning; we were nothing more than sitting ducks." He closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly back to that unforgettable day: December 7, 1941.

"We'd been expecting a flight of B-17's – like the planes you flew – from the Mainland, so when we heard aircraft overhead, we thought that's what it was. Then the strafing started. I was inside this hanger and heard the bullets hitting the walls. We looked out and saw the Rising Sun on the planes and knew this was the real thing. It wasn't a war game. It was war and we were in it. You can't imagine . . . Nobody can who wasn't there."

Kinch didn't need to imagine what the sound and impact of shots felt like. He knew. He remembered the whine and thud of those bullets piercing the hull of the B-17 as they returned from a bombing run over Germany. Two of their engines had gone out and they'd begun that terrible death dive to the earth. He'd heard the order to bail out. He was one of the lucky ones. He'd survived with nothing more than a broken arm. A week in a Dulag, then Stalag 13 and Colonel Hogan. He'd never known such trust before. Hogan looked beyond the color of his skin to the man he was. He'd follow Hogan – his friend and commanding officer then and now – anywhere.

"I wound up at a POW camp in Germany," Kinch said, "But you've heard those stories. LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk love telling them. But I want to hear your story."

"Most of our planes were out on the flight line. They were perfect targets, just sitting there, waiting to be destroyed. Some of the pilots ran out, trying to get into the air, maybe get a Zero or two. They were mowed down where they stood." He pointed toward the old runway. "A few managed to take off, even shot down a few of the enemy." He shuddered at the thought.

The African-American officer gripped the cop's shoulders, steadying him as the memories grew to overwhelming proportions.

"Thanks, Kinch. For a minute I felt like it was happening all over again. Anyway," he continued, "Our chief mechanic ordered us out on the field, to help the pilots get those planes flying. We were dodging bullets as we ran. One ripped through my sleeve. Missed me by this much!" Duke held his fingers about half-an-inch apart. "We got a few more planes into the air, but by that time it was almost too late. The whole thing lasted just about an hour and a half, then the Japs headed back to their carriers. We just stood there amid the wreckage, too stunned to move."

"We were all stunned," Kinch reflected, "Even if we weren't there. I was in the gym, working out with my trainer. I had a big fight coming up, wasn't paying particular attention to the radio when the announcer broke in with the news." The officer shrugged. "Most of us didn't even know where Pearl Harbor was. I know I didn't. It was just some mythical tropical paradise. It was too far away to be real."

"Kind of like your home town, Detroit, was for me." Lukela managed a laugh. "All I could picture was factories turning out miles and miles of cars!"

"Yeah," Kinch smiled. "There was a world map on the wall and we went to look it up. Hawaii seemed like a world away. We'd all expected war would come. But my buddies and I always thought it would be with the Germans, especially after one of their U-boats sank that destroyer a couple of months earlier. Never thought that I'd spend the war in Europe sabotaging factories and blowing up bridges." He fingered the oak leaves on his collar. "Or that I'd wind up as an officer!"

"We'd heard the explosions from Pearl Harbor and could see clouds of smoke, but we had our hands full just fighting our own fires and seeing to our wounded to even begin to realize what had happened there. The sky was black with the smoke, burning planes, ships, oil. We could barely breathe. When we heard . . . the Arizona, sent to the bottom with almost all hands, And all the rest: California, Oklahoma, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Nevada

. . . so many ships, so many good men. A litany of loss. It seemed impossible that we'd ever come back, much less win that war."

"I know," Kinch agreed. "It felt like the news for the next few weeks was all bad. The Philippines, Hong Kong, Singapore. They were just places on a map, stuff you memorized for geography. It seemed like the Japs were taking over the Pacific like Old Scramblebrains was doing in Europe. Newkirk's stories about the blitz . . . I don't know how anyone made it through that."

"But we came back!" The excitement and living memories were evident in Lukela's voice. "I couldn't believe it when I saw those sunken battlewagons steaming out a year or two after the attack. And the carriers! They were at sea that day. They started the turnaround a few months later at Midway."

"We turned it around, every one of us." Kinch said, his voice filled with pride. "You, here in the Pacific; sailors, airmen, Marines, all of you. And us in Europe. We all did our part."

Duke looked at his watch, "Seven fifty-five. It's time." They turned and saluted as the colors were raised and the commemoration of sorrow and loss, courage and resurrection, victory out of defeat began,

Kinch reverently touched the scarred wall once again. "Well done, Duke."

"Well done, Kinch."

o-o-o-o-o

Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day

December 7, 2012

In Memoriam