Waving at the enemy

Verne Hansen

Then 10 years old

We lived up in Kahala Heights, so we had a good view of the ocean off Kahala, from Diamond Head to Koko Head. Turned on the radio, which was announcing the confusing reports of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. To get a better view, we (four neighbor boys, all about same age as I) hiked up the mountainside, about a half-mile up — just a grassy hillside with a few farms. Open fields. Mostly carnation flowers. Years later a road was built connecting Kahala Heights with Maunalani Heights.

We really couldn’t see much of Pearl Harbor — too far — just huge billowing clouds of black smoke. But we could see Honolulu Harbor, which had a black plume of cloud and flames.

Here we were, four boys standing out on the grassy slopes of that hillside. A lone Japanese Zero plane flew by at about the same elevation as us. Planes were a lot slower in those days, so we could see the pilot inside that glass canopy. So we all waved at him. He turned his head and looked directly at us and waved back. What a thrill that was, to actually make visual contact with that pilot. He waved back at us!

That image is burned into my brain, like it was yesterday. Of course, we were just a bunch of innocent little boys — too innocent and maybe dumb to know what war was all about.

As the morning progressed and the news came in on the radio of what was actually happening, the fear crept in. We were all glued to the radio, listening to all the reports coming in throughout the day and into the night. No one slept for a couple of days.

What is amazing is how much the peaceful tranquil Hawaii changed overnight and in months and years to come, with curfews and total blackouts, during which anyone smoking a cigarette outside at night could end up in jail.

Smoke in the sky

Warren K.H. Wong

Then 11 years old

I heard boom, boom, boom and did not know what it was. Our family at that time lived at 1907 Fort St. (now Pacific Heights Road). Two of my older brothers and I drove to the top of Pacific Heights. Looking toward Pearl Harbor we could see smoke in the sky from the anti-aircraft guns and realized that Pearl Harbor was being attacked.

Then, suddenly, a Japanese Zero flew over the mountain heading toward Pearl Harbor, and we could see the pilot with his leather helmet, and his cockpit canopy slid all the way back. I can still remember seeing the pilot’s face.

We drove back home and turned our old-fashioned AM radio on, and all I could hear was, “This is the real McCoy, take cover,” over and over.