Hickam Airfield, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Sunday, December 7, 1941

6:45 A.M.

It was a typical Sunday morning in Pearl Harbor.

The native birds were singing as the sun rose over the Oahu Mountains in the distance, the rays of light shining on the tarmac of the airfield…

And through the blinds on the Angel Squadron's barracks and into the still closed eyes of a sleeping russet-furred female, her hind-end, covered only by a pair of regulation army shorts, straight in the air as she unconsciously drooled on her pillow, her snores filling the barracks. Nearby, a cream-furred female was brought out of a deep sleep by her friend's snoring, her blue eyes looking at the sleeping she-wolf with great agitation.

Grabbing one of her pillows, Sergeant Sarah Gomez, or "Sweets" as her squadron-mates and friends called her, chucked the soft object at her friend's face, the impact actually having a bit for force from her killer right "cannon." With a loud grunt, Corporal Cassandra Malone, or simply Candy, jolted up-write, having to pull down her white under shirt which had ridden up her torso, briefly revealing a flat, but tight, midriff.

Soon, blue eyes met brown as Candy stared daggers at her friend.

"What the hell, Sweets?!" Candy exclaimed through a yawn, taking the opportunity to stretch her body, through her legs over the side of her bed.

"You interrupted my beauty sleep."

With a roll of her eyes, Sweets stood from her bed, revealing a trim body, also covered by shorts, but topped by a white blouse that was simply left on after a night of partying.

"Yeah?" Sweets retorted. "Well Sleeping Beauty snores like a wild hog."

Casting a less-than-amused glare at her friend, Candy, after a few moments, couldn't help but smile, the smile soon being returned by Sweets. Before long the two girls were laughing as they began to walk out of the sleeping quarter toward the rec room, where the rest of their Squadron were seated on comfortable couches and La-Z Boys, dressed comfortably in their civies, or civilian clothing, eating breakfasting.

Upon hearing the last pairs of feet walking into the room, Lieutenant Colonel Eve Maverick, or "Mama Bear" as they called her, cast a playful smile at the two youngest members to be assigned to her squadron.

"Glad you could join use girls," she playfully chided from her La-Z Boy. The remaining squadron chuckled at their leader's little quip, the merriment soon dying down as the two late arrivals grabbed their breakfast and joined them. And it was only when they began to tuck into their meal of eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee that the two girls noticed that their squadron wasn't the only one in the rec room.

Off shooting pool in one corner of the room was a lovely grey furred bunny, the four-foot-eight beauty lining up her shot, one of her violet eyes closed and her tongue sticking out as she zeroed in on the cue ball, all while her companions, a lovely red vixen and beige lioness groaned or rolled their eyes at the meticulous rabbit's actions.

Sgt. Judy "Carrots" Hopps of Burrow Squadron was funny that way, as her dashing sailor tod would put it. And knowing her foxy lover, the smug vulpine was more than likely giving the details of their previous night's date to the husband of Lt. Vivian "Vixey" Johnson, Judy's immediate superior. And off course, Sgt. "Maid" Marion Hood had her own input, being the most vocal of the trio, a trait shared with her husband. But, to the casual onlooker, such as the ladies of the angel squadron, they thought it was quite a humorous sight to see a bunny and two foxes, both evolutionary enemies in the far in the primitive past, get along so well.

"Come on Judy," Marion laughed, slightly throwing off the bunny's concertation, a slight posh accent reminding the unfamiliar in the room that this particular vixen was on loan from the RAF.

"We'll be old and grey by the time your done."

"Oh knock it off, Mary," Judy groaned, though with a slight twinge of amusement in her voice before finally taking her shot, her keen eye for detail having insured that each ball went into a designated pocket. This in turn caused a few of the Angel's to let out a whoop or two, as well as a small clap, which Judy, being the big ham she was, accepted with an exaggerated bow.

And not too far behind, Marian fished out a ten from her pocket before begrudgingly slapping it in Vixey's outstretched hand, a triumphant smile on the younger vixen's face.

U.S.S. Arizona, Battleship Row

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii 7:00 A.M.

Commander James "Hutch" Hutchinson, clad in a black, double-breasted Navy uniform, watched as chairs were set out on the Arizona's deck for Sunday Service, his slicked-back hair covered by a standard officer's cap as he watched his men hard at work. But, his mind was currently on something else.

Or rather someone...his beautiful girlfriend in the Angel Squadron.

Captain Terra "Princess" Ramirez.

"Hey Hutch," a voice called, pulling the officer from his musings and causing the black-furred wolf to turn his yellow eyes toward a short-built grey wolf, clad in a white sailor's uniform, his friend, Ensign Carlos "Candu" Gonzales.

"What is it Candu?" Hutch called with a sign, a tired smile on his face as he wondered what his friend was going to complain about now.

"I was just wondering," Candu began, "why I have to be on Church duty when I don't believe in God."

Hutch, shaking his head with a chuckle, looked down at Candu he answered.

"Because you are a good sailor who follows orders Candu," Hutch responded, and to his relief, earning a soft chuckle from Candu as the short wolf resumed his duties. And as the Arizona's crew went about their duties, in a house across from the harbor, Lt. Col Able "Cloud" Adams and his beautiful wife Rachel were getting ready for Sunday service, Able dressed in a simple grey suit, white shirt and red tie, and Rachel in a stunning blue Sunday dress. Needless to say, both were definitely dressed to impress. However, but there was one little problem...

Their son, Little Matthew, was covered in mud.

"You just had to leave the sprinklers on, Able," Rachel said chewing into her husband, the woman's heels clacking against the hardwood floor as she followed the two rows of muddy tracks down the hall to the bathroom.

"Now I have to give him another bath."

If there was one thing Rachel hated, it was dealing with mud being tracked into the house.

Able sighed and stared at her, the not so subtle exhale causing the she-wolf to snap her had back to give her husband a deathly glare.

"What? Are you going to say that this is my fault?"

She asked tapping her foot.

Looking at her and his cute mud covered four-year-old son as he peaked out of the bathroom, the handsome wolf could only smile.

Yep, this is the image of the American dream, Able thought to himself.

Meanwhile, down the street from the Adams residents was the home of Lt. Col Humphrey "Rex" Chambers Sr. A former flying ace of the famous Lafayette Escadrille during the great war, Rex was known to all who known him as the Golden Thunder. And as Rex himself straightened his tie as he gazed in the mirror, the decorated veteran getting ready for church himself, he happened to glace to the side of the vanity mirror at a small arrangement of photos, smiling at one in particular of him and his squadron of pilots who had paved the way for victory near the end of the war. Still, the aging wolf felt a ping of sadness. Picking up a photo next to the one of his squadron, Rex couldn't stop the quiver in his lip at the image of his commanding officer, the monochromatic tinge of the photo making it difficult to imagine the brown fur and blue eyes of the smartly dressed officer, who had been the one who introduced Rex to his wife Melody, spoke in melodically tone.

"Jim, I miss you. I could never have asked for a better commander and father-in-law," he said in a broken whisper, a stary tear slipping down his cheek.

"I miss him to," came the sweet voice of Melody. Rex looked at his beautiful brown furred wife as she wrapped her arms around her man.

"But, he gave his life to save you, Rex," she said softly.

"He could have left me and you would still have your father," Rex sadly stated, as he still believed that he was at fault for Rachel's father's death.

"He knew what he was getting into," she replied, then kissed him on the cheek. Then what she said next, made Rex feel some overjoyed.

"I'm pregnant."

The aging wolf looked at her. Her beautiful hazel eyes were sparkling, which he had only seen when she was pregnant with his son Humphrey Jr. His heart began beating like a drum as he placed his hands on her belly.

"When?" he asked.

Rachel then kissed her husband.

"Since last week, the doctor said that it was damn near impossible, but here I am; pregnant and ready to let Humphrey know that he will be a big brother soon."

Rex was so happy, he couldn't control himself as he picked up Rachel bridal style and carried her to their bedroom where he began to make sweet love to her.

U.S.S. Oklahoma, 7:30 A.M.

Petty Officer 3rd Class J. Worthington Foulfellow sat around a deck of cards with three other fox sailors. Seaman Nicholas Piberius Wilde, Seaman Tod Fray Johnson and Warrant Officer Robin Kal Hood. Seeing four foxes really bothered the other crew members, but none of the foxes cared, since they were too busy with playing a quick round of poker before church services started.

"Wrap it up boys," came an authoritative voice, causing the quartet of vulpine to look up to the rather imposing sight of a Lion standing over them, peak cap at his side exposing the caramel brown mane beneath. And given the fact that military regulation meant that a Lion's mane was only to be relegated to the top of their heads, this look made the 35-year-old Chief Petty Officer Alakay Trumbull, Alex to his friends, look far younger than he was, a fact he was constantly reminded of by the smirking foxes, all having instantly relaxed under the hard blue glare of their superior.

"Better do what he says, boys," Nick said as he stood to his feet, clapping the annoyed Lion on the back.

"Yeah," Robin responded with a hint of an English accent, a reminder to those who knew he that he had actually moved to the states from London when he was only thirteen, so he never quite lost the accent.

"Don't want to cross the King of New York."

All Alex could do at that point was sneer at the laughing foxes, their revelry definitely earning them several stink eyes from their fellow crew mammals. But at the same time, the foxes also offered some sly winks to some of the ladies coming up from the female accommodations of the ship, backed by their staunch superiors, the older, professional women a buzz killing reminder that while women could enlist in combat roles, the genders were still segregated to keep things, for lack of a better word, "cordial."

Though, there really wasn't anything they could do about activities OFF ship.

"Delinquents," Alex growled under his breath as he turned on his heels, leaving the four foxes to their game, which went on for the next eighteen minutes without a hitch. But just as Nick was about to lay down his cards in what was certain to be his fifth win, he happened to look up and see an unknown number of planes…

Though something about them bothered him.

And it wasn't just Nick. Up on one of the Hawaiian mountain ranges sat a small truck…a mobile radar station. More specifically, the Opana Radar Site. And seated in front of the radar screen was Private George Elliot, a young horse, his brown fur radiating green from the radar screen in Front of him. And needless to say, the moment he saw a massive blip of green coming from the top of the screen, he was a bit unnerved.

"Hey, Joey," he called to his friend in a thick New Jersey accent, "come check this out."

Not a second latter, Private Joseph Lockhard, a white-tailed buck, came up alongside George, both their eyes going wide at what they were seeing.

"What the hell is that?" Joey whispered in a midwestern twang, the Pennsylvania native fiddling with dials to make sure they were set correctly.

"Don't know…get on the horn."

Not long after, both privates got an answer that somewhat settled their nerves. As far as the administration building was concerned, it was a flight of B-17s coming in form the mainland.

Not ten minutes later, on the deck of one of the Arizona's command platforms, set atop a tripod mast, grey-furred Seaman Alexander "Salty" O'Connor was mopping the deck alongside two other seamen, when all of a sudden, the lanky wolf heard the unmistakable sound of fighter engines in the sky.

Confused as to why the Navy would be having exercises on a Sunday, Salty cast his yellow eyes up, only for them to widen in horror as he saw several planes, each bearing the "Rising Sun" on their wings and fuselages, opening firing on the currently unarmed ships as explosions from bombs and torpedoes tore them apart. Salty actually had to duck before a round could go through his skull.

Back on deck, Hutch and Candu had just enough time to react before being gunned down. Unfortunately, some other sailors were not so fortunate, some being killed instantly or severely wounded.

"GET THE WOUNDED BELOW DECK!" Hutch ordered as he pulled a shell-shocked Candu to his feet. Within minutes, they making their way up stairways.

"When need to get to the bridge," Hutch told Candu, who could only watch in abstract horror as ships where being torn apart.

"I didn't know the Japs were sore at us," Candu said over the chaos.

"Where the hell have you been?" Hutch rhetorically asked.

Meanwhile, about two miles off the coast of Oahu, a trio of F4U Corsairs, launched from the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Enterprise, were en-route for Pearl.

This was a small part of the famous navy squadron, Rogue Squadron, under the commander of Commander Jaime "King" Ramirez. In the distance, the grey-furred wolf could make out puffs of black smoke in the air, which he instantly recognized as anti-air flack.

"Looks like someone got into the ammo, King," the cream-furred Lieutenant Samuel "Buckeye" Davis, though everyone just called him Sam or Uncle Sam, called over the com, the Ohio wolf letting out a chuckle at the response from his wing-man Ensign George "Hench" Mahony.

"It's gonna be hell to pay," the brown-furred wolf's thick Brooklyn accent laughed. But soon, the revelry quickly subsided as the group soon came under fire by a squadron of Japanese Zeros.

"FUCKING CHRIST!" King yelled as he banked right to avoid a head-on collision with one of the Zeros.

"Are those Jap planes?" Sam inquired, his eyes wide from what had just transpired. King, now realizing what the flack was, began issuing orders.

"ALRIGHT BOYS, IT LOOKS LIKE THE JAPS WANT A FIGHT… LET'S GIVE 'EM ONE! ROGUE TWO...BREAK RADIO SILENCE WITH ENTERPRISE!"

"COPY ROGUE LEADER!" Sam called before speaking into his radio.

"Rogue Two to Enterprise, Rogue Two to Enterprise...Keep Your Distance...Pearl is under attack...I repeat Pearl is under attack...This is no shit!"

And as soon as the message had been relayed, Sam dove in to join the dogfight.

Back on the Arizona, Hutch and Candu had made it to one of the gunner decks, anti-aircraft guns firing at the fighters and dive-bombers pummeling the harbor with ordnance.

"Come on Candu!" Hutch called, only to turn and see Candu's gaze skyward, eyes, wide with horror, trailing downward. Hutch turned just in time to see a bomb punch through the wooden deck, into the…

Below deck, main kitchen…

Newly appointed cook to the Arizona's crew was Pumba Maywell, a warthog. For the last five minutes, all he heard was, "Man your battle stations! This is no DRILL!"

But Pumba shook his head.

"That's what they all say," he laughed, thinking that this was nothing but another stupid drill. Just then…

CRASH!

Something came through the roof and landed into the ammo locker. The warthog jumped up, perplexed on what just happened. He could hear some crew members above him cry out in panic as they quick took off running, as if their lives depended on it. Pumba took one look down the hole to see the cause of his crew mate's fear.

It was a bomb!

Pumba's eyes went wide with fear.

"Son of a-"

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!" Hutch yelled, pulling Candu to cover as a massive explosion from the ship's ammo locker rocked the ship, through several men and women off their feet as the hull buckled, the force of the explosion briefly lifting the bow part-way out of the water before buckling inward, flames and shrapnel going everywhere, mowing down an unfortunate soul who wasn't fast enough to get out of the way.

Meanwhile, back at Hickam…

"THE JAPS ARE BOMBING US, THE JAPS ARE BOMBING US! GET UP, GET UP!"

The voice of Captain Garth "Macho" Reynolds of Alpha Squadron startled the girls, especially is girlfriend and Eve's youngest daughter, Second Lieutenant Lilly "Snowball" Maverick, who, after a moment to recover from the shock, quickly ran with the others to the barrack's ammo locker, grabbing all the ammo and firepower they could, from 50 Calibers, to M1911s, to Tommy guns, to M1s.

Within a few minutes, the girls were running out the building with Alpha Squadron, led by their leader and Garth's Father, Colonel Tony "Mad Dog" Reynolds.

Across the field, running across the tarmac from their barracks came Omega Squadron, led by Eve's Husband, Lt. Colonel Winston "Papa Bear" Maverick, followed closely behind by his second, Captain Humphrey "Joker" Williams, who was also the fiancé of Angel Squadron's First lieutenant and Eve and Winston's eldest daughter, Kate "Hot Shot" Maverick.

Just as the three squadrons convened outside of Angel Squadron's barracks, Sergeant Nars "Snake Shit" Fleetwood of Alpha Squadron looked to the sky upon hearing a terrifying sound.

"ZEROS INBOUND!" he yelled, quickly aiming his Tommy Gun at the fast-approaching aircraft, the other's following suit as they opened fire, the three squadrons joined by Burrow Squadron, which now fully consisted of Judy, Vixey and Marion, as well as a few other members of Burrow squadron, including a lovely otter, one Second Lt. Emily Otterton.

Unfortunately, it did little good, for as soon as the Zeros were right on top of them, they began strafing the tarmac, taking the lives of handful of other pilots that had come out to join the defense.

"We need to get airborne!" called Major Crystal "Claws" Santiago, earning calls and nods of agreement.

As everyone raced to find a plane or some cover, a group of pilots from the navy's once proud Husky Squadron were already in their planes. Ensign Kirby Wells had managed to get his corsair started and was already making his way onto the runway. Breathing a sigh of relief, the Siberian Husky began to accelerate. He was going to make.

However…

Lt. Balto "Howler" Jones spotted three Zeros closing in on his pilot. Thinking fast, he picked up his radio. "Hey, Kirby!" he spoke quickly. "You got three Zeros on your six!" Balto saw Kirby look over his shoulder, not a smart move, but the Siberian Husky wasn't slowing down.

Members of Angel, Alpha and Husky Squadron started praying for Kirby to get airborne or at least turn to avoid the incoming Zeros.

"Turn! Turn!" Balto shouted as the Zeros opened fire on the lone P-40.

Kirby gripped his control stick hard, pulled back and felt his plane get off the ground. But it was no good. The three Zeros had already locked onto him and unload a hailstorm of bullets into his plane. SSgt. Kirby saw his engine burst into flames. "NOOOO!" he screamed, before he and his plane was turned into a fireball which crashed just at the end of the runway.

He was gone.

Back across from the harbor, Rex rushed out of his house, just having finished getting his cloths back on. Zeros flew low enough for him to see the rising sun on them, and this, combined with the flashbacks of the first world war caused him to become paralyzed with shock. And there he stood, watching the sky as a Zero came in from behind to strafe the area. The bullets would have got Rex, if not for Able pulling him into cover behind a tree. The bullets sent the bark flying, but neither officer was hit.

"The whole island is under attack!" Able shouted in Rex's ear. This brought the aging wolf back to reality. He looked at a panic stricken Able as he went on.

"Those bastards will kill us all."

Rex frowned. He pulled back his hand and… SMACK! He slapped Able across the face.

"Snap out of it!" he shouted, then stopped a group of soldiers.

"You men, get over to the armory. Get guns and ammo and you too, Lt. Adams!"

And just like that, Able stopped panicking and began acting like a soldier.

Rex rushed to his car and took off to join in the defense of the harbor. However, he had no idea this would be the last time he would see his beloved wife.

U.S.S. Oklahoma, 8:00A.M.

After taking over four torpedoes, the Battleship Oklahoma was in trouble. As Nick fired his anti-air machine gun on the port side of the ship, his neat black dress uniform now torn and burned from the action it was seeing, he suddenly felt off balance. Looking down at his feet, the young fox sailor saw empty shell casings rolling past him. His green eyes suddenly went wide with horror as the realization of what was happening set.

"We're sinking! We're sinking!" cried Alex as the panicking lion desperately grabbed onto a rail for support.

At hearing this, other sailors began to panic and began to run to the starboard side of the ship. Nick abandoned his anti-air machine gun and began to head to the starboard side as well, but halfway there, he began to topple over. And with that, the young fox went falling into the oily water of the harbor, other crew members fell in after him.

On deck, Alex reached over and took hold of Foulfellow. Both officers couldn't believe what was happening, never in the history of Naval sinkings did anyone ever see a battleship capsize. And needless to say, Tod was panicking, the adult wailing like a little kit as he clung helplessly to the railing beside Robin.

"I CAN'T SWIM! I CAN'T SWIM!"

"THEN WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JOIN THE NAVY FOR?!" Robin sarcastically bellowed back before he suddenly lost his grip, the fox letting out a loud yell as he slid/fell down the deck that was now at a eighty-three degree angle. Within six minutes, the Oklahoma had rolled belly up and looked like a big metal dead fish. Sailors began scaling the overturn vessel to get out of the water, but this only made them targets for the attacking Japanese Zeros.

At the Naval command center, Admiral Husband E. Kimmel just stood at the window, the lanky grey squirrel looking at the horrific sight before him. The very Navy he had been given command of was in complete ruins, his career would soon be the same. Just then, something went through the window and struck him in the chest. One of his aids looked shocked as he picked up a stray bullet.

"It's spent, sir," he exclaimed.

Admiral Kimmel could only stare solemnly at the bullet.

"It would have been merciful if it had killed me."

However, at that exact moment a ray of hope shined through the darkness.

Hickam Airfield. 8:43 A.M.

As an Aichi Dive Bomber was coming in for a bombing run, it was suddenly shot to pieces by two P-40s, the cockpits manned by two pilots the group recognized as Second Lieutenants George Welch, a grey fox, and Kenneth Taylor, a rather small and lanky bison, clearly a runt, the two now making their way in the direction of Battleship Row.

"GIVE EM HELL BOYS!" Lilly cried with glee, earning a round of laughs and cheers from the others, only for the excitement to quickly die as they were once again forced to take cover from anther barrage from incoming Zeros.

And while Hickam was still being attacked, things were worse at the hospital. Rachel, along with other fellow nurses, were being swamped with injured sailors and more. The cries of dying men echoed off the walls, blood stained the floors, and every room in the hospital was being turned into a place to put all the wounded. As Rachel gave a shot of morphine to a sailor from the Arizona, the voice of her husband was heard.

"Bad neck wound! We got a bad neck wound!" a medic shouted.

Rachel turned and to her shock saw her beloved Able bleeding badly from the neck. He looked so weak, and he was shaking as if he was cold. This was the starting signs of shock, which most wouldn't come back from. When her eyes met Able's, he tried to speak.

"Am I going to die?" he asked gasping for air. Rachel was frozen with shock.

"Rachel! Please, help me."

Able pleaded with her.

Rachel then put her fingers into his neck wound and stopped the bleeding. She then cried out for a doctor. An old elk ran up. "My fingers have stopped the bleeding, what do you need?" Rachel asked him.

"C-Clamps," he said with a slight stutter.

Without wasting anytime, Rachel set to work trying to save her husband's life. She needed him to focus on her and not his wound, so she spoke to him. "Alright, look at me, Able. You're going to be alright."

She surely hoped so.