Family eyewitness account of the attack on Pearl Harbor

On the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, I wanted to share a remarkable first-hand account from my mum’s cousin, Charlotte Anderson, who witnessed the bombing as a child living in Wahiawa Heights, O’ahu, Hawai’i.

I found this account quite by accident recently while searching through some family tree papers in my filing cabinet.

Charlotte wrote these memories later in life, reflecting on what she saw that morning, the days that followed, and how the war reshaped her family’s life. Her story is vivid, personal and deeply human, offering a window into history as it was experienced by one girl watching events unfold from her own home.

Note on historical language

This memoir is reproduced almost exactly as Charlotte wrote it. I have added subheadings to make it easier to read online and, in a few places, added brief explanations to give context.

The original manuscript used language that was common during the Second World War but is now recognised as offensive when referring to Japanese people. I have replaced these terms as I did not want readers to feel uncomfortable. I believe this editorial decision does not affect the authenticity or historical integrity of her personal account.

Early morning confusion

December 7, 1941 – “a day that will live in infamy” and surely a day that I will always remember.

We were living in our house on Karsten Drive in Wahiawa Heights, and the first thing I was aware of that morning was hearing Mom and Dad’s voices in their bedroom. The voices seemed different somehow. I went in and they were both sitting up in bed looking out the window that faced toward the Waianae Mountains and Kolekole Pass. I looked out too and saw a huge column of smoke just barely to the left of the Pass, and there were little ‘silver things’ circling around the smoke and diving into it.

We couldn’t figure out what was going on, but as the smoke was in the direction of Schofield Army Base and Wheeler Air Force Base, Dad suggested that perhaps the army was practise bombing in the gulch behind the bases.

Not really knowing what was going on, we decided to take an early morning drive to try to find out. We dressed, hopped in the car (Tippy, the Springer Spaniel too), and took off down the road.

An uneasy drive toward the bases

Along California Avenue where the tall trees were, we saw some Filipinos under their car. I asked Dad what he thought they were doing, and he said they were probably having car trouble and were trying to fix it (six guys under a car?!).

After our car emerged from the trees, my mother looked out and up and said to me, “Look! There’s a plane and sparks are coming from it!” I looked up and saw it too. Dad said, “They’re probably on manoeuvres and are shooting blanks.”

Continuing merrily on our way we decided to try to get onto the Post (into Schofield) and went to the first gate just past Leilehua High School. Strangely, there were no sentries at the gate so we went slowly through and turned left toward Wheeler Field.

We saw a bunch of soldiers running across the road, and one stopped and, seeing we were civilians, asked us what we were doing. When we admitted to just being curious, he said since we were not authorised, we’d better leave. That was usual procedure so we turned around and headed back toward the gate.

Just then, a couple of high-ranking military cars shot across our path and out the gate. My Dad made some comment about the high-ranking brass getting out in a hurry.

Shock at Wheeler Field

Still curious about the column of smoke, we drove past Leilehua again and then turned right onto the road that headed toward Honolulu. On our right was Wheeler Field where the army was in the process of constructing a series of outdoor hangars, simply three dirt walls to form a ‘U’. At this time there were only piles of dirt so we stopped between two piles and looked at Wheeler.

To our right the hangars were on fire and straight ahead on the ground were lines of planes also on fire. Over that was the column of smoke and there were planes circling and diving down.

We were horrified! Dad’s comment was that “someone” had made a “horrible mistake”.

Smoke over Pearl Harbor

We heard loud noises from the direction of Honolulu so continued down the road through Kipapa Gulch and up to where we could overlook Ewa and Pearl Harbor.

There were huge columns of smoke billowing up from Pearl Harbor and lots of silver things were up in the air. I remember Dad saying that perhaps someone mistakenly hit one or more of the oil tanks that lined the Honolulu side of the Harbor.

Mother then reminded Dad that we were having company around noon (a navy commander) and suggested that we had better get to the store and back home.

The attack reaches Wahiawa

Returning to Wahiawa, we stopped at our usual Japanese grocery store, there to be told that the island was being bombed and attacked by the Japanese.

Just after that had sunk in, we heard noise out in the street. Everyone rushed out and saw a plane headed our way (north to south or from right to left facing the street) with sparks coming from it. We all automatically ran back into the store and dropped down on the floor behind the shelves.

We heard the whine and ‘zing’ of bullets (just like the movies) as the plane came low and strafed (a word that later came into my vocabulary) the street.

The moment we heard the plane lift to leave, we all rushed out to the street. I was in time to see the plane start to bank right (toward Wheeler Field) and then nose-dive down and crash. I will never forget that sight and the sight of the big, red rising suns on the wings. Subsequently, we learned that a guard at the water reservation – one person who had both a gun and ammunition – got a lucky shot and hit the pilot as he was flying low.

Radio warnings and blackout

After that and after hearing a radio message at the store (our first radio contact) to remain home, we decided to return to the house. When we got home, we turned on our radio and heard, “This is the real McCoy. The Japanese are attacking Oahu. Stay indoors!” We were also instructed to boil all drinking water and not to show any lights at night. Dad spent the rest of the day blacking out (another new word) the most essential room: the bathroom!

Childhood fear in the dark

The only other vivid memory I have of that day was when I had to go to bed. I spent a long time lying on my bed looking out the window wondering if the Japanese were coming back and wondering if I would ever wake up again if I allowed myself to go to sleep.

The Japanese did not come back, but nobody knew from moment to moment if they would or would not attack again.

School closures and wartime routines

Schools were closed and people were asked to stay at home for a while. We heard that the army was going to take over Leilehua School so Mom went to get her records and as much PE (physical education) equipment as she could salvage.

While she was doing that, I picked up used 50-caliber machine-gun parts and made myself an 8-inch machine-gun belt. I also picked up two bullets in my classroom, one of which was definitely a very sharp, deadly Japanese bullet.

Dad had to patrol the neighbourhood which was a rather scary mission as we lived near an army reservation, and the soldiers had guns but Dad didn’t. Up at the end of Karsten Drive was the last klaxon air-raid siren in the relay from Wahiawa proper, and another of Dad’s duties was to sound that when he heard the one below.

The first time we had an air raid, Dad tore out of the house and headed up the road for the siren. Tippy (the dog) thought this was great fun and raced with him, happy until he turned the crank. She then made a beeline for the house and ended up under a bed!

Shelters, scares, and small moments of humour

The schools were closed until further notice so we more or less stayed at home.

At Christmas time there were very few trees and those few were too expensive so Dad took a wooden dowel, bored holes in it, and stuck Norfolk pine branches in the holes. Mom said it was the most symmetrical tree she’d ever had!

We were registered, fingerprinted, given shots, and issued gas masks. The day we were given our gas masks, we were fitted and then were made to go through a room filled with tear gas to test the masks. Just before exiting, we were asked to remove the masks to feel what gas was like so everyone came out crying.

Disrupted schooling and rationing

When school was to take up again in February, Leilehua classes were farmed out all over the area, in private homes and in huts out in the pineapple fields. It was decided that I would go into Honolulu to stay with Grammie and Gramp Lyser during the week and go to Punahou.

The US Engineers had taken over the Punahou campus so my Punahou fifth grade class was at Manoa Elementary and the sixth grade was at the Teachers’ College on the University of Hawaii campus. Both were within walking distance of the house on Beckwith Street, of course, as driving was limited.

Gasoline, tires, and liquor were the only items officially rationed, but shortages and high prices effectively rationed a great many other items.

Air-raid shelters and blackout life

There were many air-raid scares, but nothing ever came of them. My uncle Fillmore White dug an air-raid shelter in his backyard and there was a larger shelter behind my grandparents’ house that was to be shared by three families. Dad refused to dig one. He maintained that air raids were usually at night and he’d rather stay in his comfortable bed than go into a dirt shelter with spiders, centipedes, and scorpions! I remember a couple of times Mother, Grammie, and Alice (my aunt) were playing pinochle when the air-raid sirens sounded, and they simply picked up their hands, climbed down into the shelter, and resumed their game!

One night we had an air raid, and I was very upset at having to get out of my nice bed to go into the shelter. I was in charge of my cousin Don White (four years younger) and we were in the large shelter (since all the men had to go out on patrol), sitting on a bench. Everyone was there except Mrs Blaisdell, a quite large woman, and when she came and sat down, the bench slowly collapsed! We all got the giggles!

One funny thing that happened early in 1942 was that Mauna Loa, the volcano on Hawai’i island erupted. No one was allowed to show a light after dark under penalty of a strict fine. However, someone neglected to tell Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of volcanoes, fire and creation! You could read a paper outside at night from the glow from the volcano!

Learning to drive at ten

Since we lived in the country, Mom and Dad decided it would be good if I learned to operate a car. My friend Dolly Manley’s mother agreed too. So Mrs Manley taught me and let me drive her car, and Mom taught Dolly and let her drive our car! I was only ten, but I was tall and had no problem reaching the pedals. (When I was seven, Dad had let me sit on his lap and steer from time to time going up to the house from Wahiawa.)

After that I’m sure we had the cleanest car on the island as I offered to wash it so I could back it out; we had a long driveway so I’d back the car all the way to the road and then bring it forward to wash. Afterwards I’d back it all the way out and drive it into the carport! (The faucet was actually only one car length out of the carport!)

Wartime landscape and radio propaganda

Besides the blackout every night, other overt signs of war were gun emplacements on the hills and barbed wire at Waikiki. The latter seemed quite ridiculous even to us youngsters since we knew there was no break in the reef offshore, and no one with any sense would try to cross the reef!

Our neighbour above us in Wahiawa, George French, a bachelor, had a photography shop at Kemoo Farm. He often brought home chicken and champagne and asked Mom to cook for him (and us) so we’d eat outside in his glass-enclosed garage. Dad would open the champagne, aiming it toward our house, and Tippy would chase and retrieve the cork. After dinner we would go into Mr French’s house and listen to Tokyo Rose on his short-wave radio. (I got to lie on his polar-bear rug!) It was interesting to hear what she said the Japanese were doing to us on Oahu!

School life and Victory Gardens

At school we had bomb shelters and of course Victory Gardens. We grew vegetables and were able to take them home to eat.

If we went to school without our gas masks, we were sent home to get them.

When I was in sixth grade, I had to walk clear from Beckwith Street to the Teachers’ College on University Street, a long way but I walked part way with cousins Don and Barbara White, dropping them off at the houses where their kindergarten and first grade classes were held.

Another thing I remember was being out at Wahiawa when Leilehua was in session and going to the pineapple fields with Mom and her classes. They were in school for four days and spent one day of the week working in the fields as there were shortages of workers. The kids got paid minimally for the work, mostly weeding.

Preparing to leave Hawai‘i

At the end of 1942, Dad was offered a promotion if we moved to the San Francisco area. We had a lot of arrangements to make. Tippy had to travel on a special animal convoy which was only available every six months. We had to estimate the closer one to our departure which was not exactly booked to the day! Tippy also had to have a special dog house and three weeks’ rations. She left some time in April and arrangements were made for her to be taken to a veterinarian in San Francisco upon her arrival.

I’ll never forget when we went to pick her up about two months later. She saw us at the end of a long hall and tried to run toward us. It was slippery and she couldn’t get traction and spent a lot of time moving in one place. But all of a sudden she was speeding toward us and then couldn’t stop so slid into us, licking and crying all the time!

We sold the house in Wahiawa and since Dad worked for the government, the army came to pack us. I remember one of the soldiers asking Mom where all her sugar was. She said she only had very little as it was rationed in California and it wasn’t legal to take extra.

He said, “We pack it here; you unpack it in your next home. Who will know?”

Mom hustled to the store and bought fifty to one hundred pounds of sugar! We used it to repay friends and relatives on the mainland who helped us when we arrived.

Orders to depart

We were on 24-hour call and one day in May when I got home to Grammie’s from school, Mom and Dad said, “That was your last day at school. We leave tomorrow.” I couldn’t even call my friends to say goodbye.

Earlier Dad had received a typed cryptic note from the authorities giving him our ‘orders’, but I hadn’t known of this. The orders were as follows:

ANDERSON: Please use discretion in broadcasting the following:

Obtain medical certificates stating that you and your family are free from contagious and communicable diseases.

Either obtain this information from Tripler General Hospital or your own doctor. These certificates must be presented before you will be permitted to board the boat.

RADIOS, CAMERAS, FLASHLIGHTS, and ELECTRIC RAZORS must be packed in HOLD BAGGAGE and will not be accessible during the voyage.

Hold baggage must be at Pier 26 between 13 and 16 o’clock May 18th.

Cabin passengers must be at Pier 26 at 10am May 19th.

The voyage to San Francisco

So by the time I got home from school on the 18th, our baggage was gone and the next day Gram and Gramp took us to Pier 26. We got our cabin assignment, and we were lucky because Dad was classified as an army officer. We had a ‘stateroom’ – a two-bunk one with a third bunk shoved in between so no one could sit up in bed. But we had our own room with a wash basin.

One drawback was that the ship was the former German ship Orinoco which had been taken over in the Canal Zone and refitted as an army transport ship and renamed the USAT Puebla. Everything was still written in German: the water faucets, showers, restrooms, etc., all had their German labels. It was very interesting!

We had to carry our life preservers every time we left the cabin. Again we were fortunate as we met a couple of the ship’s engineers who played pinochle with us and who got us nice kapok preservers. These made sitting on the decks a bit more comfortable. There was no deck furniture of any kind.

We were in a convoy of four or five ships plus two escort destroyers and the usual four-and-a-half-day trip took seven days – zigzagging every ten to fifteen minutes! The ships conducted target practice the first day out with the destroyers putting out floating targets to shoot at. Our ship’s guns didn’t place shells too close to the target, but nobody seemed to care.

We had one sub scare when everyone had to get to their station in a hurry. Then one day a shell-shock victim jumped overboard. (We had a lot of war casualties aboard besides civilians.) The ship could not stop as that was considered too dangerous, but it did circle back which took a good forty-five minutes. The destroyer on our port side zoomed back, but all was in vain.

The other excitement was on the last day out when one of the booms got loose and fell with a crash across the deck. Fortunately, it hit an indentation which prevented it from hitting the hatch cover which had soldiers lying on it sunning themselves.

I will never forget the cheers as we steamed under the Golden Gate Bridge. As they say in Hawaii, it was “chicken skin” time – gave everyone goosebumps!

Arrival and a new life in California

We landed at Fort Mason in San Francisco on May 25, 1943, and went to the Hotel Californian. I remember looking out at the California “dim out” from our hotel window and remarking at how wonderful it was to see lights once again!

We stayed with Aunt Evelyn Rappley in Oakland while we spent time looking for a house and finally decided on 516 Manzanita Avenue in Corte Madera, Marin County, across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco. Mother and Dad were there for almost thirty years! I went to seventh and eighth grades at Larkspur-Corte Madera School, 9th to 12th grades at Tamalpais High School in Mill Valley, and then to the University of California at Berkeley.

I received my teaching credential (majors in physical education and English, minor in speech) in June 1954 and began teaching outside of Sacramento in Sutter County. I taught three classes of girls’ physical education, freshman, junior, and senior English, school paper and general business. I was there four years in a cute little teacher’s cottage for which I paid $35 a month! In September of 1958, I moved to Santa Rosa in Sonoma County to teach PE at Montgomery High School, a senior high which was just opening. I remained there for the next thirty-one years, living in Santa Rosa the first year but living the next thirty in Healdsburg, fifteen miles to the north.

— Charlotte Anderson (1 August 1931–6 March 2009)