 Your war and Navy Departments present December 7th. Would you please repeat the last paragraph I gave you, Ms. Kim? Certainly, Uncle Sam. For tropical beauty, and I'm not excluding the opposite sex, this late island of Oahu has not paid as a vacation land. Fine. You paragraph. Imagine the transition, Jonathan. You hop a clipper in San Francisco and in less than 24 hours you're in paradise. Silence is the endless ringing of the telephone. Banished are measures hurray, scurry, worry, and company. Inaudible, the hub above labor disputes. Gone, the nerve-wracking feeling that the world in general is a whirling mess and that America in particular can't make up its mind which way it wants to spin, if at all. Yes, sir, Jonathan, when your corns begin to ache and bite, there's only one thing to do. Take your shoes off. And that's just exactly what I've done. On a flower-covered hilltop in Honolulu, T.H. Territory of Heaven. Hawaii. Romantic, mystical Hawaii. Where the air is choked with the fragrance of a million flowers. Air-choked with the fragrance of a million flowers. Yes, yes, yes, Ms. McCarty, right away. All right, we'll continue. Yes, Jonathan, nature has been most generous, but there is more on this sun-gilded island than flowers and trees. I'll say there is. Oh, yes, I might have known. Well, Ms. Kim will continue with this later. The mood is gone. Go on with your letter. I might suggest a few things to add to it. They won't be as lyrical as the air choked with the fragrance of a million flowers, but they'll be a satchel. You're not only an intruding jet, but a mule-eared eavesdropper as well. Thank you, Ms. Kim. Good morning, Mr. C. Good morning, Ms. Kim. You know, you're a strange fellow, U.S. One look at me and up goes you down there. Ah, that's no way to treat an old business partner. Old business partner, indeed. Well, let's say associate for many years. For many years, yes. A good long time. You were a youngster in knee pants when we first locked horns. You were tearing yourself into 13 parts over a book of rules you were getting up called the Constitution. As I remember, it was of you and pulled all 13 parts into one solid hunk of oak. Then again, when you were a lanky, cocky adolescent, not quite 90 years old, you chose upsides and started knuckling. Block clothe, you tell me. Took quite a bit of reasoning with both sides. Yes, and you've been reminding me of it ever since. Oh, that's my job. All right, what is it you want? I've come to go over the books with you. The year 1941 is nearly over and there's some balancing to be done. Can it wait? I'm on a vacation. You've done a lot of vacationing this year. The worst part of it you haven't been having any fun. Your heart hasn't been in it, now has it. Of course, certainly. Sure it has. You can't fool me with that star studded front of yours. You're not hitting on all 12. Something's eating you. Inside. Thank God for that. Thank God my small voice is able to reach you. That's what makes you every 130 millionth part of you a pretty decent fellow. Deep down on his knees. You're a wily old skellywag, Mr. C, but I... Well, you can't hoodwink me with your flattery. No, sir. I'm on to your ways and bide you host. If I don't, I'll be darned if I'm going to let you spoil my fun. You're not going to let me, but I will. Since I had to be saddled with a conscience. Why, dear Lord, did you have to hog time to such an irascible determined parasite like this one? There you see. Only a few minutes, but I got you praying already. All right, what's the use? Okay, let's take a look at the books. There you go, good boy. Now, where shall we start? Anywhere, but let's get on with it. All right, now let's say... Hawaii. I wonder how much you know about sugarcane and pineapples. Sugarcane and pineapples? I don't know exactly what's behind that lawyer approach of yours, but I know a good deal about sugarcane and pineapples. Oh, you do? Yes, I do. It's a pioneering story that compares favorably with the opening of the West. It's a story of a miracle in a narrowed, sun-smitten desert created by a handful of adroit men with indomitable courage. They and their dowty descendants put into cultivation 244,000 acres of guest-free, strong, vigorous weeds. Chuckful of sweet sap. An annual crop of two tons a century ago. A million tons today. Over $50 million worth a year. Big business. On soil less favorable for growing cane, they planted pineapples. 90,000 acres under cultivation in half a century. About 13 million cases of canned fruit shipped yearly. Big business, too. Where once was a village of grass-huts, a modern American city arose. Horolulu, the pearl of the Pacific. A modern, up-to-the-minute city. A territorial building. The municipal building. A library with its many branches. The University of Hawaii. The King Kamehameha School. Over 300 public and private schools. Horolulu Academy of Arts with its priceless collection of art and paintings. Lovely streets. And home. Beautiful houses of worship. Representing all denominations. Luxurious hotels. Royal Hawaiian. And the Moana. On legendary Waikiki Beach. A bustling port. A haven for ships of all nations. And the big fire. Castle and Cook. Alexander and Baldwin. Sea Brewer and Company. Theo H. Davies and Company. American Factors. The Big Fire. The Backbone. The Nerve Center. The Brain of the Territory. Grandson. Anse. Uncle. In-laws. Pailed together by blood ties and interlocking directorates. Stretch one and the other bleeds. Yes, sir. That, my dear Mr. C., is what was accomplished with a sweet weed and a spiny pineapple in one century. And that's what I know about sugarcane and pineapples. As usual, you're very well informed. You've covered the subject perfectly, with one exception. Labor. It took human hands to plow, till and seed that desert soil. To irrigate it, fight the pests, harvest and gather the crops. Of course it did. And they've done a good job, too. They? Who are they? Who are you? The natives. You're a great one to play ostrich when you want to. You know, as well as I do, that the majority of laborers were and are Japanese. Well, what about it? Oh, nothing. But just for the record, let's not overlook the majority of the population here. The Japanese. They didn't come here to spread the gospel or to venture in trade. They were brought here, as contract laborers, to supply the needed manpower for those janky pioneers who got here first. Back in the 1860s, they came in drivelets, later in buckets full. Some saved their money and went back to the land of their fathers. Others, seeking better working conditions and broader opportunities, went on to the Pacific Coast. Most of them, however, sank their roots, raised their families, buried their loved ones and settled permanently. There are a lot of them now. 157,000. 37% of the population of the islands. That's their 1941 telephone book, published for them in Japanese. And that's their newspaper, published by them. They have several daily newspapers of their own, a few semi-weeklies and weeklies. They have their own magazines, too. A goodly share still work in the sugar cane plantations. A goodly share still work in the pineapple fields. But they develop their big fire, too. Not as financially potent and powerful, but very solid indeed. Inch by inch, their son, grandson, uncle, aunt, cousin, began to penetrate into the industrial life of the island. And all the time, their numbers were growing. Merchants, fishermen, storekeepers, doctors, manufacturers, dentists, servants, nurses, and the infant madam. Yep, there are a lot of them. A lot of them, 157,000. And about 120,000 of full-fledged American citizens, don't forget that. Conduct themselves accordingly. Listen to what Dr. Shunzo Sakamaki, chairman of the Oahu Citizens' Committee for Home Defense, had to say at a patriotic rally. We are not assembled here this evening to put on an act or a show. We want to carry our full share of the burden of national defense. We are here to repledge, one with another, our unreserved loyalty to the United States of America. This we do freely, gladly, proudly. There are those who question our sincerity to doubt our loyalty. But if they would only pause and reflect, they would realize that there is no justification for such an attitude. After all, we were born here. Our homes, our friends, our livelihoods, our future are all deeply bound up with this native land of ours. We realize how fortunate we are to be living in this of all the lands of the earth. And we cherish our heritage as Americans. These are not mere words spoken for effect with tongue in cheek. And we wish to add, in unmistakable language, that if and when war comes, no matter with what other country, we will give our lives, if necessary, in defense of those democratic principles for which other Americans have lived and fought and died. As American, a spirit has existed in any new Indian community by gods, a hyphenated spirit. Yes, they express their loyalty and no doubt our loyal. They send their children to American public schools where they pledge allegiance to the flag and sing patriotic American songs. But they also send them to their own language schools, 175 of them, where they are taught Japanese loyalties, culture and morals. What are the three main concepts of Japan? Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama. In addition to their Buddhist and Christian churches, they brought with them their so-called religion, Shintoism, and devoutly follow its teachings. Would you please tell us who you recognize as a supreme being, as deity? In Shintoism, we worship the first Japanese emperor whose creation started the world of mankind. Doesn't that imply worship of his descendants, the present son of heaven, Emperor Hirurito? He is the mortal image of our immortal deity. Do you mind telling us what are some of the basic precepts of your religion? Not at all. Shintoism embraces many doctrines. It preaches honor of the ancestors, thereby keeping alive the fires of nationalism and preserving a racial and social bond with the unbroken and divinely descended imperial dynasty. To be a Shintoist is to be a Japanese. This is not, nor can it be, a matter of choice. It is a duty. And they obey their duty. You're forgetting to guaranteeing freedom of religion. Is it an infringement of those rights to prohibit American citizens from worshiping the head of a foreign government? What I ask you, my liberty-loving friend, would Tokyo think if the emperor's subjects openly worship George Washington as a god? Are you implying that all these people are disloyal Americans? Oh, no, indeed not. I wouldn't or would anyone undertake to separate the loyal from the disloyal. I'm only presenting the fact. There were about 66,000 American-born Japanese here. In that same year, Japan passed a law giving these 66,000 Americans the right to expatriate themselves from Japan. Yet up to 1933, only about 5,500 did. True, the expatriation procedure was made complicated and cumbersome by the Japanese government. Nevertheless, in that same period between 1924 and 1933, 39,000 children were born to Japanese parents in Hawaii. But 17,800 of the parents went to the Japanese consulate here and registered their two-week-old sons and daughters so that they wouldn't lose their Japanese citizenship. If that's Americanism, it's very hyphenated. All right, all right, so there are many Japanese here and they have their language schools in Shinto temples and many are hyphenated and some perhaps disloyal. But don't go getting the impression that I'm entirely unaware of their presence here. My police forces, federal and local, are constantly vigilant and backing them up is the largest naval fortress in the world. As long as the American flag flies over these bastions of military strength, no one needs sleep uneasily. And let me remind you, it's a bastion I'm very proud of just in case you've forgotten. I haven't forgotten, but neither of the Japanese. Ah, there you go again. No, this time I mean the Japanese imperial government through its consulate general and his 250 vice-councils, the Japanese consulate, diplomatically protected by the flag of the rising sun. In the vicinity of the Pearl Harbor, there is only a bridge, and there are still many Japanese in the vicinity. I see, let me tell you. On Monday, the biggest high school in the UK is... I'll show you a little bit. The way to run circles around it. They tell me these new cruises will do 35. Maybe so. Well, you know the old theory. Diving for lobsters. Snap into it, will you, baby? I'm in a hurry. What's the rush, Mike? Got a date? Yeah, a date with a sergeant. Century detail at the other end of the island. We're laying in a new landing field. You'll see it. It's over 9,000 feet long. I hope we don't miss that shoreboat. Oh, we'll make it all right. We always have. Hey, there goes one of those new army bombers. That crate's got plenty of firepower. Yeah, in the nose. A guy from Hickam told me that last week in a test, they sacked a pursuit on her. Her tails as blind as a bat. Of course, we're a sister. PewDiePie. I was a little lonely in Japan. My Japanese wife was in a hurry. I was able to get everyone to military service. I have a report from a woman from Hickam. Yes, have him come in. Thank you, madam. Good morning, Herr Heinemann. How is the gentleman? You seem in very good spirits today. Naturally. Of course I am. Have you seen the papers? An American destroyer was sunk in the North Atlantic from one of our submarines. My office can take credit for that. The information was picked up right here in Honolulu. I'm one of my best men. About telephone, the phone line. Long distance. And guess who? Ralph. Well, he didn't say so in so many words, but we've got a little code fixed up. And he's been transferred to a cruiser and is leaving on Friday for Iceland. Just imagine Ralph in a cold country like that. Why, he's a regular old beach boy. Poor darn private freeze to death. Now look, Margo, remember, not a word to a single soul. I really shouldn't have told you. It's a military secret. It certainly was a military secret. Unfortunately, we didn't get the cruiser. But we did get one of the destroyers. My congratulations. You owe me more than congratulations. So? Surely you are not forgetting the fine work we are doing, telling the world what incompetent stupid little children of the Orient you Japanese are. Honor, you've been playing too much around with the officers lately. Stop it. They're too smart for you. Tell your stories elsewhere. Get his shops, car games, surveying workers, talk to the public. Yes, Carl. And then this officer told me he came through here on the coolage on his way back. They'd give our Navy just about six weeks to wipe the Japs off the sea. He said the reason they're so secret about that Navy of theirs is that it's no good and they know it. I'll build a scrap metal we didn't want anymore anyway. I guess our experts know what a pile of junk it is. A friend of mine knows a Marine just back from China. Says the Japs never will make good pilots. You just have to have a flair for flying, I guess, and they ain't got it. This insurance fella, he's been in Tokyo for more than seven years. Saw lots of their planes flying over Tokyo. Slow, he says. Sure weren't anything like ours. A newspaper fellow who's been in Tokyo said their ships are just a lot of junk. Why, you said some of them just roll over and stink the first time their guns go off. And those Americans swallow it. As easily as they do, they are indigestible popcorn. Well, Peter, I have something highly confidential to discuss with you. Look at me. Excuse us, I'll go. Our San Francisco office informs us that Washington has sent here many FBI agents and that military and naval intelligence men are practically everywhere. Oh, not very. I have information that one of the highest military officers in the Hawaiian department has cautioned everyone not to do anything which might offend the Imperial Government of Japan and create any unnecessary feeling among the local Japanese population. No action will be taken. And no action has been taken. How do you know all this? It's no secret. The Army and Navy have been aware of the Japanese fire activities for years. They even have a little black book, a grab list of all suspicious persons if and when trouble starts. Why isn't something being done about it before trouble starts? I was going to ask you that, but I'll tell you. It's bad judgments to take a poke at a fellow's chin unless you're prepared to make it a 15-round scrap. Washington's on to Mr. Hirohito in company, but Washington has his hands full trying to keep the isolationists from disbanding the Army and at the same time put our factories on a war footing. So it's just the case of letting the Japanese push us around until you, every 130 millionth part of you, provides Mr. Ruschfeld, Mr. Stimpson, Mr. Howell, and Mr. Knox with good-sized clubs to back up their words with action. That's the kind of talk that's blameless to get us into war. Why, they, that warmongering, eh? As I've said many times, you're a strange fellow, you ask. You want peace, but you want it the easy way. You want to go on leading your way of life, but you don't want to fight for it. And if anyone suggests doing something about it, he's called a warmonger. Watch out, you ask. Someday one of these incompetent, stupid little children of the Orient will choose you. And when they get ready to square off, they won't worry about offending you. They'll pick their time and their method, and they'll come over here and blow that bastion of military might behind which you sleep so easily into smithereens. Now, you're hysterical. You're talking like a schoolboy. Remember, it's 3,400 miles from Tokyo to Hawaii. Oh, they may get cocky and try and pull a fast one into Philippines, or they might even be crazy enough to grapple with the British and Singapore. But it can't happen here. If their spies have been as active as you claim they have, there's one thing they surely must have found out that Pearl Harbor, Hickam, Schofield, Wheeler, Shafter, all adds up to two words, stay away, and they will. Well, they may. In the meantime, no matter the hour, no matter the place, there's a nearer here and an eye to observe. Patiently, bit by bit, information is collected. Patiently, bit by bit, it is sent out. The ever-present diesel-powered sandpan is used for other purposes besides fishing. The diplomatic pouch eliminates the need for secrecy. Thus, by short wave and diplomatic pouch, Tokyo is kept informed of all our ship movements and all our military activity. By patriotic subscription, they support the war in China. By low-cost tourist rates, thousands go back yearly to the homeland. In return, Tokyo sends over Shinto priests, educated writers, who go up and down the islands with monotonous regularity. For two-and-a-half hours daily, Tokyo broadcast programs in Japanese, featuring news reports and governmental happenings. Quite often, they get very chummy and allow their tourists and relatives to send their greetings back. And when Tokyo speaks, they all listen, rich and poor alike. So it's plainly a two-way proposition. Put them both together and it spells, Tokyo, I love you. You may see nothing but intrigue and conspiracy lurking behind every closed door and choking the airways with military information. I see islands of wondrous beauty, sky-piercing mountains, deep-driven gorges, dashing surf and miles of colorful coastlines, tropical skies, the world-famous landmarks, diamond-head, the upside-down falls, the polys, islands inhabited by people of many tongues, of many lands living side-by-side in neighborliness and friendship. My islands are of many races, many mixtures. The total population is 423,000. There are 7,000 of us. I am Korean. Portuguese, 8,000. Chinese, 29,000. Filipinos, 53,000. Hawaiian and Patois, 66,000. Caucasian, 103,000. Japanese, 157,000. A melting pot, yes. But one in which everything literally melts. To which people from the world over have brought their colorful traditions and customs and adapted them to our American way of life. Thousands of vacation-venturous years, once ruled by the great king Kamehameha, and over which now, in dignified splendor, flies the flag of the United States. It's all down there, Mr. C. If you'll only take time to look. It's amazing how much you can see. With your head buried in the sand. So long. Sleeping peace for the Uncle Sam? No problem. No worries. Everything in order. Ah, go away, Mr. C. I too. The whole world is tired. Why must you plague me so? Sam lay fast asleep. Warned of the fire that was licking across the oceans from without. Warned of the dangers that were threatening from within. Tired from wrangling with his conscience and fatigued after a long, dark night full of disturbing events, as indeed the year 1941 was, he slept in the early Sabbath comm. Safe and secure behind its military and naval ramparts, the city of Honolulu, like many another unsuspecting American community, was also asleep. At all the army and navy establishments on the island, after repeated warnings from the war and navy departments, a number one alert had secretly been in effect for 11 days. This alert provided suitable defense against possible acts of sabotage and uprisings within the island itself, but made no provision against attack or invasion. At Hickam Field, the army's bomber base, precautions were taken to safeguard the equipment against sabotage. Hence on this Sunday morning, the planes were concentrated in hangars or lined up row by row on the open field. See if the adjacent to Hickam Field is Pearl Harbor, the navy's hundred million dollar fist. Here on this morning of a tragic day of reckoning, capital ships, heavy and light cruisers, lay at anchor. At anchor too lay several destroyers, tenders, minesweepers and repair ships, 86 vessels in all. By seven o'clock the city began to stir, spot the atmosphere was serene and quiet. Hickam Field ground crews were at work. On a dock in Pearl Harbor, a few blue jackets idled away a few minutes. At Conny Roy, a field mess was being held. Shipmates, today is the third Sunday of Advent, the 7th of December, which means that Christmas is not far ahead. I don't have to remind you, fellows, that the old early is about to shove off carrying Christmas gifts and letters to the home side. Why not buy them a few presents? You want to get them, uh, get Mother of Pataki Lay, or Little Sister of Hula Skirt? I think they'd rather have something for Little Johnny out here in Hawaii. This is the time when you're going to be missed, so send them a present for Christmas. But that letter is so important, Hollow. Don't put that on. A few minutes past seven, an incident occurred at a temporary Army aircraft warning station. This station, as indeed the entire aircraft warning system, had officially closed at seven, but Private Joseph Loughart, who had been receiving training here, was granted permission to remain at the station. While listening, he discovered something coming over the detector that alarmed him. He listened intensely. Then, certain of his findings, he called the Central Information Center, and an experienced lieutenant answered the phone. Excuse me, sir, this is Private Loughart. He's approaching slightly east of north of Oahu, at a distance of about 130 miles. Thank you, sir. This incident, where it acted upon, would have given our forces brief but precious time for defense action, and may have considerably affected the events of this fateful day. Regrettably, Private Loughart's warning went unheeded. It was 7.50 a.m. by the clock on the Aloha Tower when the drone of planes was faintly heard. As the Pacific skies, like tiny locusts, they swarmed in from the sea. A very moment on a quiet Sunday afternoon in Washington. Japan's smooth talking, grinning envoys, Nomura and Kurosu, were blandly delivering to Mr. Hull a lengthy protestation of Japan's peace intentions. Yes, at this very deceitful moment, about 200 of Japan's messengers of death swooped in over our Pacific paradise. On they came, wave after wave, boldly, fearlessly. They had little to fear. They knew that our task forces were at sea, and they knew their disposition. They knew that no long distance airplane reconnaissance, no inshore airplane patrol was being maintained. They knew from detailed maps they carried with them the exact location of vital airfields, hangars and other structures. Each was given a specific objective and straight toward that objective he came. The country of an empire was on the wing, favored by our lack of readiness, with the sky and sea all their own, at 7.55 a.m. Hell broke loose. Change their mind, seems his mind. I don't think it is an attack by Japan. But you must have seen the Japanese plane. No, I did not. What about the bombing in Gunfire? I thought the Ironman Navy were having maneuvers. Look, Mr. Kida, you know that I know that you know that this is an attack by Japan. I have nothing to say. And judging by the smoke pouring out of your chimney, there will be nothing left to show. I have nothing to say. The second phase of the attack began and 50 minutes of perfidy, beaten off by our men, who against overwhelming odds, heroically and magnificently gave notice to the world that we had only begun to fight. When they sneaked in, they were about 200 strong, only about 150 when they departed. Behind them, they left about 50 of their planes. Most of them were scattered on the airfields in charred, twisted and mangled wreckage. A few had crashed into the sea and were washed up on the shore. Some were shot out of the sky and plunged headlong into the harbor. Grim tell tale evidence that the list of dead Japs might have been larger and the list of our casualties smaller had we been sufficiently on the alert. These two man submarines, three of which were accounted for, were especially built to operate in shallow waters such as are found in and around Pearl Harbor. This piece of underwater perfidy won't be forgotten. Yes, this as indeed the whole diabolical plan of the attack was conceived and aimed toward achieving one objective and one objective only. To catch us off guard, smash our fleet, cripple our standing as a sea power and put us out of business but if it failed, the tragic and terrible was the scene of destruction. Heart breaking, the sight of ships built to fight and die proudly, now left burning in shallow graves. Painful and lamentable the scenes of Hickam, Wheeler, Connoyoe with barracks, hangers and equipment to mass of battered debris. Always said President Roosevelt always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. Amazement in sorrow, in horror and disgust was also were President Roosevelt's words. Horror and disgust, amazement and sorrow, bitter, grievous, mortifying sorrow. For on this Sabbath day, 2,343 officers and enlisted men of our army, Navy and Marine Corps gave their young lives in the service of our country. Who were these young Americans? Let us pause for a few minutes of their hallowed graves and ask a few of them to make themselves known. Who are you boys? Come on, speak up some of you. I am Robert R. Kelly, United States Army. I came from Pendley, Ohio. My parents are Mr. and Mrs. James E. Kelly. I am Alfred Aaron Rosenthal, United States Navy. I lived in Brooklyn, New York. My parents are Mr. and Mrs. Henry L. Rosenthal. I am Theodore Stephen Zabo, United States Marine Corps. My hometown is Castalia, Iowa. Those are my parents. Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Zabo. I am Moses Anderson Allen, United States Navy. I lived on a farm in Cove, North Carolina. My mother is Mrs. Abby Allen. I am James Webster Late, United States Navy. I'm from Huntington Park, California. Folks are Mr. and Mrs. William J. Late. I am Antonio S. Defoyer, United States Army. I lived just outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico. My father and mother are Mr. and Mrs. Jesus A. Defoyer. I am Lieutenant William R. Schick, United States Army Medical Corps. My home was Chicago, Illinois. My parents are Mr. and Mrs. William H. Schick. My wife's name is Louis. You have a baby now, Lieutenant. He was born three months after Pearl Harbor. He's named after you, Billy. And you may be pleased to know he was born on your birthday. Oh, that's swell. Thanks. But tell me one thing, Lieutenant. How does it happen that all of you sound and talk alike? We are all alike. We are all Americans. We study nation effectively in disposses. The honors to report that our banners have struck an annihilating blow at United States people. The battleship Arizona, some are lost. Regrettably, that's correct, Mr. Tojo. The aircraft carrier Enterprise, cut flies are lost. Incorrect. That's the old target ship Utah. The battleship Oklahoma, capsized and lost. Capsized but not lost. Plans are underway for writing her. The battleships, California, Nevada, and West Virginia, finally damaged beyond repair. Temporarily damaged, but just a minute, Mr. Tojo, before you go any further with your facts, meet Captain H.N. Walden of our Navy. He is the Bureau of Ships and is an expert on salvage and repair. Together with hundreds of civilian technicians, machinists, welders, mechanics, engineers, many of whom were recruited from the mainland and working in complete harmony with Navy personnel, he began a 24-hour around-the-clock job of salvage and repair that will stand forever as one of the great achievements in maritime history. Above and below the water's surface, this epic of masterful engineering went on. Captain Walden has proved you a mighty tall storyteller, Mr. Tojo. He calls your facts by a rich Navy word, scuttlebutton. And from the very moment the attack was over, he set out to scuttle your kind of scuttlebutton. Three-year-old Captain Walden and his wife, three-year-old California, known affectionately to our blue jackets as the prune barge, with her ugly wounds temporarily bound, was refloated and towed to dry dock. Similar attention was given to the 28-year-old Nevada and the 21-year-old West Virginia. Here in dry dock, in record-breaking time, they were overhauled and improved from stem to stern, from hull to peak. Now dressed in their up-to-the-minute fighting garb and rare and to go, these mighty warriors and their proud crews stand out to see. Godspeed. Who is this saucy little gal, Captain Walden? Hi, George. It looks like it. Yes, it is. The mine layer, a glala, a 4,000-ton surprise package. Given up and reported as lost, this former Fall River Line passenger ship was righted and refloated. Taken to dry dock, this small, dauntless craft was refitted and repaired. Now, spanking new, this veteran of World War I again takes up her battle station. You see, Mr. Tojo, how poorly your facts stand up. Sorry to have interrupted. Lead, which is left of the Pacific Fleet, is now in the soldiery flight seeking shelter in the Panama Canal. Before you were lying, now you're fishing. All shipping rates between a lot of states may run and high are blockaded. And now you're wishing. No phantom ships leave, Mr. Tojo, but a huge convoy from the mainland. Three dozen ships, quite a number for blockade runners. They're loaded to the gunnels with reinforcements and supplies. And here's a tip, Mr. Tojo. More of these convoys are on the way. Yes, convoy after convoy. Men in ever increasing numbers. Supplies in ever increasing quantity. Well, thanks to Washington's Farsighted Program, we did manage, before December 7th, despite many internal difficulties and disagreements, to build up the strength of our armed forces and start our factories humming. Though the today, behind a heavy curtain of military censorship, Hawaii stands the greatest military and naval fortress in the world. Yes, virtually overnight, the island scene changed. War had come to America's tropical suburb. The Axis brand of war, a stab in the back on Sunday morning. The din of the last bomb had barely faded when Governor Pointexter proclaimed martial law for the civilian population. What kind of garrison material did these people make? Here is their vivid answer to Japan's sneakpunch. Oahu's Civilian Defense Committee, 4,000 men and women. Organized and trained before the 7th, and working in cooperation with military and Red Cross officials, this civilian army and its neighbors went to war. Windows were taped in order to reduce the dangers from flying glass. Vital installations were camouflageed and protected by sandbags and barbed wire. Barbed wire, mountains of it. Strong along every foot of Oahu's colorful coasts. Strong across its highways, around its schools and its public buildings. Yes, war had come to the people in our island paradise and the people dug in. Everywhere the earth was tangled, it provides shelter from shrapnel and strafing. Public squares, parks and playgrounds were uprooted. Sturdy concrete shelters were built and distributed throughout the city. An efficient air raid warning system was put into operation and for the first time in history, American school children were brought face to face with the grim reality of war. Even tiny little thoughts confused and bewildered were taught to march into zigzag trenches. How difficult to convey to them the why or wherefore of this strange game. Still more difficult to explain the need for these monstrous looking things. But the fathers of Hawaii did. For this war is a war of survival, a people's war. Even a little people's war. Yes, right down to striplings and infants. A bunny mask, but no toy this. For this child a grim memory of your treachery, Mr. Tojo. Well did the mothers of Hawaii as they waited in endless lines for these bunny masks, remember the gas attacks in China. Well did they know that what you tried in China you were capable of trying here. But Hawaii is prepared now even against this possibility. Everyone has a rubber gas mask and carries it with him. From children as they go to and from school to grown ups civilian and military alike the people of Hawaii needed no pep talks on the value of rubber. This pile collected by them unmistakably proves that yes, all the people pitched in the Japanese too. They volunteered in great numbers as blood donors. They liberally supported the war bond drive and everywhere this scene was commonplace. The younger generation did its share and fully justified Dr. Shunzo Sakamaki's faith and trust in his fellow Japanese. Those that were known to be disloyal or undercover enemy agents were immediately taken into custody. Many were forced out of business and in turn but despite the wild Tokyo inspired rumors and scuffle but not one single solitary act of sabotage was committed on the 7th. Your bombs Mr. Tojo brought many changes and in no small measure served to further the already complex life of the Japanese in Hawaii. As though to permanently erase their relationship with the homeland they wiped out or removed every vestige of the written Japanese word closed or the language schools empty and bordered up the Shinto temple gone the flag of the rising sun. This young American Japanese gave the best illustration that over Hawaii the rising sun had begun to set. Thus war came to Hawaii, USA. The Aloha Tower once the symbol of welcome and hospitality now stands clad in weird war pink. No longer do luxurious liners bring vacation bent tourists to these once happy aisles. The liners too have gone to war. No longer is Waikiki Beach the sun kissed playground of the Pacific. Barbed wire to its face too. Now a twilight the city streets are empty and deserted. Blackouts start each day promptly at dusk. Well you may crow Mr. Tojo. You've done a good job of stabbing in the back. You've darkened our city. You've destroyed our property. You've spilled our blood. Our faith tells us that to all this treachery there can be but one answer a time honored answer. All they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. So that's the story of Pearl Harbor before, during and after the infamous attack on December 7th. It's all true. I can take my word for it because I know I was there. I died there. Who are you parlaying with buddy? Oh just talking to some of our fellow Americans. Up here or down there? Down there. It's a waste of time. Oh they're all right. I ain't the way I size them up. I ought to know I've been watching them from up here for 24 years. Where did you get yours? On the Marne. Oh you're a veteran. Ah you rookies yeah but I ain't no veteran. Over there is man that fought the Redcoats with George Washington. I saw the general the other day. Over there the boys of 1812 the Indian fighters there's regiment after regiment of blues and greys. Back down Manila Boulevard there's some of Dewey's men. My outfit's built up here in the new sector. I reckon they'll be opening up some more sectors now. Plenty of room for all of you. Were you boys from this war and from the next? There isn't going to be any next. Oh where have I heard that before? Yes I know it's been said since the Bible was in its first edition but this time we're going to make the world safe for democracy. The world's safe period. Safe for us to continue our democracy. Safe for any other nation who may choose to live under a democracy or any other book of rules whatever its name just as long as they call a fair ball fair and a foul ball foul. Who's going to do your umpire? Every nation. Bushleague is in the majors alike. Even when they prove themselves able and worthy to rate being called a ball club I've heard all that before too buddy. And no reflection on you it was said better by a great man that's up here with us now Woodrow Wilson. And what happened? America decided they didn't want to play balls for the international league so they left Wilson out there on third base and they walked off of the field. When he tried to tell them that they're a big league club now and that they no longer playin' sand lot ball they sold him and his hopes and his ideals down the river. That was 1918 500 years ago this time you can bet your last Lincoln penny Uncle Sam's going to be right in there pitching. You taking any bets? The last shots fired they'll take all of the Rouge Belt the Wallace the Hull the Wells the Wilkie speeches they'll pack them away in moth balls they'll climb up on the bleachers they'll eat hot dogs they'll watch the other clubs slug it out Six will get you 12 at 15 or 20 years from now there'll be over enough new sectors in here. You better cut down on the odd soldier because when this ball game is over a lot of guys are going to be struck out that's true but a lot of guys are going to be coming back to home plate and they're going to ask a lot of questions and they're going to have a lot to say about who does what and when the whole flak of contracts and promissory notes is being dished out to them and they're coming back to collect my money's on them and on their Rouge Belt the Church and I check I'm putting my dough on a ball slugger called reason on a pitcher called common sense on an outfield called decency faith brotherhood religion teams like that are warming up all over the globe they're in spring training now when the season starts they're going to be all out there slugging pitching they're going to be a way to a world series pennant called peace yes all over the world in Australia Belgium Brazil Canada China Australia Cuba Czechoslovakia the Dominican Republic the free Danish Luxembourg Mexico the garage