The older scout and myself approached the Medical Officer who appeared to be in charge and we asked if we could help. So far I had just been a spectator, but the thought of actually helping a bloody torn up persona gave me a moment of fright. What could I do? First Aid training in the Boy Scouts and actually doing something for a seriously wounded person is something worlds apart. The Medical Officer thanked us for offering, but said they did not need our help. I was relieved, but not proud of myself for being relieved. The scream of the siren from the next ambulance cut our talk with the doctor short. We continued our walk and I noticed that the small fire in the Post Exchange had now consumed over half the building. A soldier shouted “They’re coming back!” and I looked in the direction he was pointing, which was across the runway and towards Pearl Harbor. I could see the approaching planes. This was enough to get me excited and I start running home. Before I reached my house, the Japanese planes were overhead and firing at the barracks I had a minute ago left. When I reached our house, my mother was out front looking for me. I could tell she was angry but relieved to see me. She wanted to know where I had been and why I left. My poor mother had only been out of the hospital a few weeks and was still recovering from a hernia operation. I did not answer, as we were running towards our improvised slit trenches. The attacking planes were again flying low. We noticed that the “eight to five” machine gun nest near our house was not set up. In fact, during the whole attack in the area I only heard one machine firing and that was for only a short time. This time there was no bombing, just strafing go Wheeler. One of the attacking patterns took the planes directly over head of use, and a few of the fired cartridges and metal clips, which I still have, from the planes’ machine guns fell about us. It appeared they were strafing the barracks and area I had just left and targets of opportunity. Shortly after the Japanese planes left, an American B-17 four engine bomber came in low over the field. The pilot banked the plane in order to get a better view of the damage. That was the last I saw of him. I believe he flew to a neighboring island. I thought to myself that those guys flew all night from the mainland to be greeted by this. It really saddened me. The Japanese, to my knowledge, did not attack any of the military installations at Schofield Barracks and from what I heard later, many of the people in the northern part of the post did not know that an attack was occurring. Later that morning, my father returned from his company and escorted us to the nearby Third Engineers baseball diamond and told us to get into eh players dugout. At this time we heard a shell whistle over head and explode in a large parade ground in front of the General’s quarters. My father said, “Oh God, the Japanese fleet has moved in and they are starting to shell us.” Later we found out it was an unexploded anti-aircraft shell, possibly from Pear Harbor. Mid afternoon we left the baseball diamond and returned home. That evening we stayed indoors and occasionally we could hear the sound of rifle fire from some trigger happy guard. Later that night we were told that the dependents were to be evacuated to Honolulu because the post was considered a military target. I believe we were allowed one small suitcase each. A civilian field worker’s truck came by for us. I had four long lengthwise wooden benches and an overhead framework that was covered with canvas. My seat was up front near where the canvas came together and I was able to see out somewhat. On the road to Honolulu, we skirted Pear Harbor and I could see a ship burning, which I believe was the Arizona. In addition, the sky would be lit up with occasional anti-aircraft shells exploding plus the orange arches of tracers being fired. I believe they were firing at our own planes coming in from the States. That evening fro the best part of a week we stayed in a school in Honolulu and then we were allowed to return to our quarters at Schofield Barracks. A month or so after the attack, a Nation Guard outfit from the States arrive. They had the new style helmets and the new vehicle” Jeep.” It seemed the National Guard got the latest in equipment first, so said my father. I continued to deliver the Honolulu Star Bulletin to the Officer Quarters, but slowly my route was cut to nothing, as the officer’s dependent were the first to be evacuated back to the States. Our turn came on Easter Sunday when we left on the English liner Aquitania, which had been launched right after the Titanic sank. The Aquitania was 5000 tons heavier and a few knots faster. Being a fast ship we crossed the Pacific in a zigzag pattern without an escort seven days and landed at Long Beach, CA. My father stayed at Schofield Barracks and later was commissioned an Officer. He later made the D-Day landing and I am happy to say he survived the war.
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