Orange juice in hand

Deane S. Marcy

Junior medical officer

“At about 7:55 a.m., while drinking orange juice at the breakfast table (in the officers ward room), I heard what sounded like muffled explosions from a considerable distance away. I thought to myself that the Army must be firing their coastal defense guns target practice — over near Fort DeRussy. As I sat there the explosions seemed to come nearer, and I therefore (while waiting for my eggs) took my orange juice in hand and strolled leisurely up the port ladder, which brought me to the port side of the quarterdeck.”

Marcy continued, “At that moment I heard what I thought to be a plane diving, and looking toward Ford Island I saw a plane in a steep dive — a bomb was released from the plane just before it pulled up. The bomb wobbled and fell into one of the hangars. The hangar erupted into a terrific explosion, shooting flames, smoke, pieces of planes and at least one human body — all flying through the air and burning.”

“At about the same time I became aware of the USS Helena firing, and, while looking aft across the cofferdam, I saw a low-flying plane over the Helena, firing tracers which seemed to be coming right down my throat.”

Then, he said, “Looking astern, I noted a path of wooden chips approach and pass me, a few inches from my right foot. As it registered in my mind that these were bullets striking the wooden deck, I ran full steam (still carrying half a glass of orange juice) to the shelter of the turret overhang.”

Marcy said, “After collecting my thoughts and catching my breath … I stood up and ran for the nearest hatch and my battle station. I heaved the half-empty juice glass with all my might after a rapidly disappearing strafing plane.”

While rushing to his station — a berthing compartment below the armored deck — Marcy said he found several sailors sitting on the deck, reading Sunday papers and having a cup of coffee. “I hollered, ‘Get to your battle stations.’ They all looked up unconcerned, and one said, ‘What’s the matter, doc? You must have had a wingding liberty last night.’”

Before the attack, Marcy said, he and another medical officer, Lt. Richard R. Rall, had planned to have Sunday dinner together.

Later that day, “After the last attack and when all of the wounded had been taken to the hospital, I went to the brig (where all the fatalities had been placed) to identify the dead. There in the second row, third from the end was Dr. Rall — my first knowledge of his death.”

‘Red with blood’

Wallace James North

North was taking care of a personal letter-writing errand when, “as I reached the boat deck, I was looking directly at Ford Island and saw a huge explosion.”

“I then heard planes diving, and when general quarters sounded I hightailed it for my battle station because I knew that it was no drill. … My station was at the sky control up in the foremast, where I manned a pair of damage control headphones. My phones were dead on the other end, so I was free to look around.”

North said, “From that height I could see everything in the harbor.”

As powerful battleships burned or sank, North said, “It was like watching good friends die.”

He continued, “The Shaw blew up a short distance from us, and the Oglala went down behind us. My ship, the Pennsylvania, was in dry dock, so we couldn’t be sunk, but we were hit by one bomb. The two destroyers (USS Cassin and USS Downes), in dry dock with us, took hits, and they burned. The dry dock was flooded to put out the fire.”

Later, while hauling ammunition, North said, the Pennsylvania’s quarterdeck was “red with blood.” He added, “One boy wanted someone to wipe his eyes. He was badly burned. So I took my T-shirt off and tried” to clean his eyes. North then tucked his shirt under the burn victim’s head and “kept on going.”

During the raid, North said, “One plane came by the ship so close, I could see the pilot and co-pilot very clearly.”