Jim Downing - The Other Side of Infamy: My Journey through Pearl Harbor and the World of War

SOFT LIGHT REFLECTED by a nearly full moon bathes a peaceful Pacific island in a blanket of white. Azure ocean waves lap gently at still-warm sandy beaches. Koa trees in lush rain forests stretch for the sky while hibiscus flowers in verdant gardens wait for their next opportunity to bloom.

It is another enchanting Saturday night on the tropical paradise called Oahu, and most of the thousands of American servicemen and -women stationed here are ready to give in to its charms. Some who are advanced in rank enjoy a dance at an officers club. Many enlisted men partake of the pleasures offered in downtown Honolulu: taverns and shops with names such as Two Jacks, the Mint, and the New Emma Caf; a variety show at the Princess titled Tantalizing Tootsies; and a host of shooting galleries, tattoo joints, and the like. Thousands of other military personnel remain on their ship or base and listen to music, watch a movie, or write a letter to a loved one. Nearly everyone, it seems, is ready to relax, have a good time, and forget about worries and responsibilities for a while.

The date is December 6, 1941.

I am also on Oahu this night. I am a gunners mate first class and ships postmaster serving on a navy battleship, the USS West Virginia. After returning to Pearl Harbor on Friday from a thirteen-day patrol, I finished up my duties and left the ship at noon on Saturday. The harbor was packed all eight active-duty Pacific Fleet battleships were in port, along with small craft and Coast Guard vessels, 164 ships in total. The lines at the bus stop were so long that two buses came and went before I could finally catch one and head home.

I was eager to get home. Id married my new bride, a beautiful girl with auburn hair named Morena Holmes, on July 11. Newlyweds do not like to spend weeks apart.

We are staying with a civilian couple, Harold and Belva DeGroff, in Honolulus Kalihi Valley. Their large home also serves as local headquarters for The Navigators, a fledgling Christian organization dedicated to spreading the message of the gospel. Harold is in charge. Morena and I are active in the movement.

Which explains why on this Saturday night, I am not at a dance, in downtown Honolulu, or otherwise occupied. The DeGroffs are taking the weekend off. Ive been assigned to fill in for Harold and lead the evening meeting for more than a hundred men and women of faith, as well as a few others whove arrived to see what we are up to. The DeGroff home is built on stone piling about six feet off the ground. The huge crawl space underneath is our auditorium, complete with benches, chairs, and a sawdust floor. After a period of singing, quoting memorized Bible verses, and sharing personal stories, I deliver a brief message. Then someone gives a final prayer, and we send the crowd into the night.

Its been a time of enjoyable fellowship, a wonderful evening. None of us realize that several in our group will not live to see another day.

On Sunday morning, the aroma of fresh-cooked eggs and sizzling bacon greets me as I take a chair at the large table in the kitchen. There are eight of us seven navy men and Joe Bodie, an army corporal who snuck away from his base last night to attend our meeting. The guys stayed over at the house to enjoy a good nights sleep and the hearty breakfast that Morena, wearing an apron, now begins to serve.

The rest of the men are in uniform, but since Im home, Im wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Soon Ill get dressed for church. Harold will be back home this afternoon. Hell set up the radio on the front porch, and a group of us will gather for evangelist Charles Fullers